#beware: another long and boring reply

[ryuichirou]

💙 anon here!!

How are you both?! I hope all is well for you guys!

Here for another anon ask so here we are cause I love my little TwistedS!uts.

So 💙 anon here for the anon asks:

What are the twst characters kinks you think they have.

(You guys can list all characters or any you guys want in general)

That is all from 💙 anon!

Remember to drink plenty of water and eat your meals!

Hi 💙 Anon! You’ve been waiting for a reply for quite some time, sorry for the wait. I hope I’ll get to some other old asks as soon as possible, there are some very fun ones in our askbox…

This one is pretty fun, for example! It was interesting thinking about every character in that way hehe, although I skipped a few that I had nothing to say about… but still, this ended up being a pretty long list, and I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for your concern and support, have a great day! And don’t forget to drink water and eat too~

Alright, so these dirty pervs.

Riddle – subverted powerplay (when he is more dominant at the beginning, but then Something happens), size kink; he isn’t really aware of/doesn’t admit either of those.

Ace – he is a baby dom that still has a lot to learn; he is also into using someone else’s dirty clothes for masturbation.

Deuce – probably praise kink, but he is yet to discover his own kinks, he is kind of shy when it comes to that.

Trey – teeth, duh. Overall, he is pretty orally fixated, but teeth is his weird thing. He likes both touching them and admiring bite marks.

Cater – hard to tell, but I feel like he has some surprisingly intense kinks that we are unaware about. Voyerism, exhibitionism, group sex, maybe something else…

Leona – anything rough, but nothing too bdsm-y. He is actually quite masochistic, but he’ll never admit it.

Ruggie – “anything you want as long as you’re paying”, but in actuality he genuinely enjoys leaving bite marks and receiving good scratches on his back.

Jack – he’s probably the most vanilla out of the entire cast, but he still gets quite feral due to his wolfy instincts.

Azul – quite dominant in general, but if we have to pick one kink, it’s probably bondage, ropes, his own arms/tentacles, anything that restricts his partner.

Jade – also into ropes, but he is more sadistic about it. He is very meticulous in general, so I can see him using needles, certain drugs and other dangerous experimental things. Oh, and sensory deprivation, blindfolds… also, sometimes he also wishes he could use his unique magic more often.

Floyd – he has a new kink every week, he does whatever he feels like doing, but his love for choking and gagging is pretty consistent. Scratching and biting is also something he loves to do. And also extreme creampie. Right now he is intrigued by water sports, so beware everyone.

Kalim – he isn’t aware of his kinks, for the most part he does whatever he wants, but he tends to enjoy hair pulling way too much for Jamil’s liking. He also likes dressing his partner up and having sex in a pool.

Jamil – spanking (but only when he is in a very good mood), hair pulling (hello) and edging; all these options are inconvenient to him, but he can’t help it and kind of hates it.

Vil – he enjoys some elements of roleplay and sometimes gets a bit carried away. He can also be surprisingly bratty at times. Body worship is good, but he gets bored of it quickly, so he needs some kind of a twist to that kink…

Rook – this guy has way too many. The most notable ones are voyeurism (duh), primal play and actually brat-taming.

Epel – muscles. Just… muscles. He is sure that he is just fascinated by them because he also wants to be big, but nah, the boy is way into muscles.

Idia – he also has quite a bunch of them, although a lot of them are purely theoretical, like he just loves reading certain doujins and watching hentai and stuff… But in general: robot fetishism (let’s be honest), tentacles (let’s be honest), dirty-talk and humiliation.

Ortho – doesn’t have any kinks per-se, but he is fascinated by the idea that people can get aroused because of the weirdest things. So he actually has phases when it comes to kinks, and he learns a lot during those. Right now he is very into sensory deprivation! What an interesting concept, isn’t it?

Malleus – he is surprisingly into whatever his partner is doing, his only requirement is for him to go all-out. He is quite intrigued and wants to be entertained. If I had to pick one kink for him, it’s probably wax play, it just feels right.

Lilia – waaaay too many kinks; even if he isn’t all that into it, he’d probably done it. He used to be very into sadism, blood play,  knife play, all this stuff, but now he is more into exhibitionism, sex toys, somnophilia, to name a few.

Silver – sexual servitude; he is very submissive and a little bit masochistic.

Sebek – stuck between being a dom and being a sub, and doesn’t even realise it. He is really into verbal degradation, you can’t shut him up. At the same time, I can also see him cuckolding in very specific scenarios so…

Crewel – come on, we know it. I’m pretty sure he practices bdsm and petplay quite regularly.

Trein – enigma of a man that is suspiciously reactive to dirty talk.

Crowley – yes, Crowley. Crowley is an exhibitionist; he is just way too good at hiding it. He is also much more messed up that we’re giving him credit for in general.

Neige – body worship, phone sex; I can’t explain either of these, to be honest.

Che’nya – absolutely cursed chaotic beast, he has too many kinks, but his most favourite one is probably tickling, because he is that cursed.

Rollo – more kinks that he cares to admit, but he never acts upon any of them, that would just be disgusting. But if we’re being honest, he is quite masochistic, so anything where his partner takes power from him and punishes him would make him feel good.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Buyer Beware: A Yuri story

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

“This is patrol craft nine-three-zero calling command; sector Sigma-twelve is clear, moving to next patrol.”

Mince flicked off the transceiver and started entering the new patrol coordinates into the nav computer. As he entered the final digit the computer flashed green as he felt the engines vibrations through the decking spin back to life.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to make that report each time we clear a sector.”

Mince looked up from the nav computer to see his partner waking from his nap and stretch out. Crumbs fell off him like the rocks of an avalanche and Mince could see the stains of several pastries still splattered across it like the finger paintings of a child. Had a senior officer been attached to their patrol ship Vicon would be hauled out and lashed until his uniform bore a new shade of red for such lack of discipline, but all of the officers were needed for the war effort and honestly Mince had grown tired of trying to change Vicon’s mind.

“It’s protocol to make routine reports.” Mince replied dryly as he got up from his pilot’s seat and went to the back of the cockpit to pour a fresh mug of Savatha Juice.

Vicon laughed and tilted his cap back over his head. “I doubt anyone in command even remembers us out here, let alone has someone reading out reports.”

He thumbed his right hand over his shoulder at the wall behind him adorned with a propaganda poster showing a Xinda soldier hoisting a cartoonish representation of a Marketh warrior up on a spear while females and children gathered behind him. “That thing’s almost as old as I am, and we’re still not even close to winning this war.”

Mince grabbed his mug and returned to his chair just as the jump drive finally kicked in and the ship was lurched forward at incredible speeds. On some level Mince wanted to tell Vicon that he was an idiot and that of course they would win the war, but he couldn’t deny that this conflict had gone on far beyond what was originally expected.

A minor skirmish over a colony world between the Marketh and his people the Dril spiral out of control nearly some twenty years ago resulting in nearly two decades of on again off again warfare. Every time the Dril thought they were going to have the upper hand and finally overcome the Marketh they would suddenly counter attack and drive them back. What was even more confounding was that the Dril navy vastly outnumbered the Marketh and had established a blockade around their entire territory hoping to starve them into submission, and yet still they had continued their fight. Military analysts had expected them to run out of war material five years ago, but every Marketh soldier was still equipped with a fresh uniform, combat supplies, shredder rifle, and at least five magazines worth of ammo.

“I’ll grant you it’s gone on too long,” Mince conceded as he took a sip of his drink, “but in the win so what does it matter?”

Before Vicon could reply with another snarky remark the ship jittered and exited out of the jump.

“Beginning scan now.” Mince said dryly.

“Who are you saying that for Mince? I’m the only one her-“

Vicon was interrupted by the loud chime from the return scans. This surprised Mince just as much as neither had expected there to be anything in the sector.

“We are reading a Cubato cargo hauler moving past the third planet.” Mince looked at the data being fed to his terminal by the scanners, quickly analyzing each strand of data like it was a letter from his wife. “It appears to be functioning order and we are detecting no distress signals on any frequency.”

“Cubato?” Vicon pondered, finally taking the moment seriously. He pushed himself forward, koc and began checking his own terminal feeds. “This system is still listed as off limits by high command, and the Cubato should be well aware of that.”

The sensor terminal chimed again and the pair looked down to see a second icon appearing at the opposite edge of the sector. It was far from hiding its presence and was making a straight path towards the anchored ship above the third planet. Unlike the first ship however, this second mystery ship was already in their database.

“New contact is registering as a Marketh light frigate.” Vicon called out as the two blips drew close together.

The terminal let out a series of beeps and chimes as new data began flooding in. Vicon took a close look at it then turned to Mince who nodded. “Several small containers are beings floated across from the Cubato hauler into the hold of the frigate, and if I’m reading this right each container is registering power signatures known for Marketh weaponry.”

Vicon leaned back in his chair as the realization hit him. “This is how they’ve been able to maintain the war.” He said to Mince who still looked confused. Vicon pointed to the Cubato hauler and continued. “The Cubato have been supplying war material to the Marketh and keep them in the war.”

Without warning the scanning terminal began ringing out warning alarms as the Marketh frigate suddenly broke away from the hauler and began making a b-line straight for their patrol ship.

“BLARGERSULTUFF!” Vicon cursed as he began rapidly entering keys to spin up the jump drive. “They must have finally seen us on their scanners.”

“Data collection finished,” Mince added as he strapped himself in, “command is going to want to see this; it could change the war.”

The alarms began ringing louder as the Marketh frigate began firing from extreme range. The chances of being hit by a plasma lance from that far were minimal, but it was never a zero percent chance.

“Jump drive ready, get us out of here!” Vicon shouted as the first plasma lances started flying past their ship.

Mince smashed his fist into the jump button and the ship lurched into a jump just as a lance strike came mere inches from hitting their cockpit. ------------------------------

A knock at the door drew Yuri’s attention from his novel and he put it aside on the waiting nightstand beside his chair.

“Come in.” he announced and the door slowly opened to reveal one of his aides shuffling into the room.

“Pardon the intrusion,” they began formally, “but there has been a recent development with operation Siberian railroad.”

Yuri hefted his cup as he listened and his aide brought over a fresh bottle of wine to refill it. He swirled it for a moment before taking in the scent while he nodded to his aide to continue.

“It seems our contact in the Cubato government used a third rate smuggler on the latest transaction with the Marketh and a Xinda patrol craft stumbled upon the transaction.” The aide pulled out a small folder from under his arm and set it on the nightstand beside Yuri. “The Marketh were unable to destroy the ship before it fled from the sector and reported their findings to Xinda command.”

Yuri picked up the folder with his free hand and casually skimmed through the documents in silence while he continued to swirl the cup of wine in his other hand.

“I had expected them to at least make three trips before they were caught, but in a way this unforeseen interruption speeds things along nicely.”

He casually tossed the folder back on to the nightstand and smirked at his confused aide as several pages spilled out on to the floor.

“I thought the plan-“his aide began before Yuri cut in to save several back and forth questions and answers.

“Was to continue arming the Marketh so the war could be prolonged?” Yuri finished. He took a final sniff before judging the wine ready and took the first sip.

“I intentionally diverted our higher grade smugglers to other tasks leaving our Cubato contact no option but to hire a third rate smuggler who just so happened to be in the area.” He took another sip of the fine vintage and looked at his aide still hoisting an expression of bafflement.

“I wanted the Xinda to stumble upon the transaction, thus confirming the involvement of the Cubato government in breaching the Xinda embargo and further infuriating the Xinda government with their arms dealing with the Marketh.”

He set the glass down and stood up, casually straightening out his finely tailored clothes and walking over to his aide. He felt like a teacher nurturing a bright pupil that was so close to solving the problem of their lifetime.

“Even with the arms dealing the Marketh were set to lose the war in another three years; but now with the potential entry of the Cubato people into the war when the Xinda attack them, the war will be escalated further and continue long into the future.”

“But what guarantee do we have that they will go to war with the Cubato?” His aide asked. “For all we know this could be easily resolved with a diplomatic negotiation.”

Yuri tilted his head in consideration of his aide’s assumption. “True, but you are forgetting the contacts we have in the Xinda government who are as we speak stoking their respective public into frenzy over this outrage.”

He put a hand on his aides shoulder and leaned in to whisper “Not to mention the anger that will wash over them when the two pilots manning the patrol craft are found dead in their homes; seemingly murdered by Cubato weaponry.”

The look of bafflement faded from his aide’s face as it was replaced with one of horrific realization. Yuri let go of his aide and returned to his chair and novel. He took one last sip of wine before setting the glass down and flicking through the pages to find his previous place.

“The goal of Siberian Railroad is to ensure that neither the Xinda, Marketh, nor Cubato ever gain enough strength to pose a threat to humanity nor her interests for that region of space. I personally find it so much easier and cost effective to have our enemies fight each other than waste time fighting them ourselves.”

With that final comment Yuri had found his page again and motioned his aide to leave. Compared to this latest Sherlock Holmes novel he had acquired planning a three way galactic war was but child’s play.

[asksoldieron]

SO-1: Here We Go Again!

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

I'll edit in the real art once I make some!

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for This Seems Familiar (SO-1) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Woo. It's been a while since I posted this one now. As of this writing it's still lacking an illustration, but I went through and edited for continuity. I don't think this one changed much. (Mainly I needed to add the gumballs, and that's not until later. It's very important about the gumballs. Why? You'll see 😁.)

There may be a little quality loss here, but I'll need yet more distance to see it. The main thing is that I wanted to pen an opening that wouldn't be too confusing to new readers, or too boring to old ones. That's tough! And I don't have any beta readers who aren't already familiar with the story.

I should say, I didn't. And now I don't again! But earlier this year, I joined a group for autistic writers and... Ohhh-kaaaay. That was an experience I will not repeat.

I got fed up and finally cut ties when I found out they were affiliated with a local group that offers ABA for autism. You'll still find a lot of "favourable" articles about it on the internet, including from our "friends" at Autism Speaks! People just love it because it makes autistic kids stop acting autistic! Not "being," no, it just trains them not to act that way and inconvenience the rest of you. Often with punishments! Ha-ha, yeah. That's fine. This is fine. A disability is just like any other antisocial behaviour, you can just cut that shit out!

But I didn't know that about them, and I've been trying to make friends and connections. A group of autistic writers? And we don't have to meet in person? Sign me right up!

It was more a group for one particular autistic editor and her longsuffering friend, and the editor had all the inflexible dogmatism media tells you to expect from people like us. "I think everyone should stop masking because it's hard for me!" she said (I'm paraphrasing) once. "If we all just stop doing it, there won't be a problem!" Ha-ha. Yeah. They kill people like me when we don't behave up to a standard. Maybe not like her, because she's small, feminine and white, but people like me and my family.

That's the level of insight I was getting, but I stuck with it because I'm a people-pleaser!

We only had "time" for a couple pages of the first draft of this instalment (even though not many people were there and not all of them wanted to read words aloud, my god) and I got pressured into sharing first, having never been there before with no idea how I was meant to act. She proceeded to critique it as if it were a short story (not true) and as if that were all, or almost all, of it (clearly not true, I was sharing my screen at the time). I dunno if you wanna open it in another tab and look, but I began with Erik in the first draft. 1000 words into that is 1/5 of a standard instalment length and you've barely met him by the end.

I went back and added Miss Doubek (whom I was going to save for #6) at the beginning, so you could see the world through the eyes of someone a little less impaired. Because this writer group and editor convinced me y'all needed me to hold your hands a little tighter or you'd nope out.

"I don't understand what's happening" is like a kick in the groin to me. Growing up, I did not have a big enough vocabulary to express my big stories and big thoughts, so I heard that a lot. I still do sometimes! I'm overly specific and complex, especially when I'm upset, and I get aphasic and shut down. But, no, they didn't understand. The editor's poor friend was willing to hazard that there was obviously something wrong with Erik and she was beginning to suspect he was being held against his will - as one should. I solve that little mystery for you by the end. But I didn't get to read the end. I didn't even get to John coming home.

The editor told me (and, if I ever die of an aneurism, it will have been these words in my brain that killed me) "People don't say 'I know.'" That shut me right down. I was expected to keep talking and I probably did, but... Wha? Buh? I say "I know" all the time! One of my top ten ways to sort out my thoughts or rephrase and repeat what someone's trying to express so we're both on the same page. "I know [this], are you saying [that]?" But I removed it, and I don't think I put it back. (I think I ended up referencing the brain damage earlier instead, because I thought you needed to see a reason Erik might bit a little off, even if that's not the real one.) I'm still feeling self-conscious about using that phrase, in text and IRL!

By the grace of god, I didn't have a total meltdown and gut everything, but I wrote poorly and without joy for a long while. Trying to meet the standards of someone who had no idea what I was doing and didn't care to learn. She was an editor! I always wanted access to one of those!

Yeah. This helped solidify my now-militant belief that 1) Traditional publishing is not for me and 2) Stuffing art into a tiny box will kill it, so 3) Maybe we should be a little more grateful that people share the things they love with us.

I am clueless. I have sinned. I have issued unsolicited criticism on the internet, with the best of intent. But I am gonna try like hell not to do it anymore. Y'all don't need to be ruin your week. Unless you say you want help (and I will take you seriously, even if you don't mean it, so be careful!) or you're hurting others, I will back off and accentuate the positive. Even if the best I can come up with in the moment is "You made a thing!" (Ha-ha, nonverbal blues.)

Wow, that came out kinda sad. But I'm OK now! Tired of website glitches, but loving the writing part. I'd rather write another instalment than do any of this other stuff I got on my plate, but that's not in the cards for a few more days...

[Back to the Site?]

[collapsedteam]

Gadgets for Skipping Class (Ch.1)

Title: Gadgets for Skipping Class

Author: Collapsed LIL @collapsedteam

Characters/Pairing: Eustass Kid, Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law

Tags: One Piece, AU - High School

Rating: PG-13

Chapter/Status: 1/2 (read Chapter 2 here)

Word Count: 6,477

Summary: Kid’s only occupation is inventing gadgets that will help him skip class.

Notes: The prompt was to write a YA story with Eustass Kid. Rating is mainly for coarse language.

AO3 / FF (You can also read the story under Read More)

Chapter 1

At three o’clock, the bell rang through the school corridors. The classrooms were immediately flooded with the dragging of chairs, the zipping and unzipping of bags and the footsteps of teenagers eager to escape from another day of lectures. In a certain class, a blue-haired boy wrote hastily his last notes of the day.

“Hey, Traffy,” said a sunshine boy behind him. “D’you wanna go stone skipping?”

The other boy shook his head. “I’m going to take this homework to Eustass,” he explained. “And I’ve already told you a million times not to call me ‘Traffy’.”

“Can I come?” His friend ignored the boy’s look of disapproval.

Trafalgar Law was not the best at making friends. He was sullen, rude and barely talkative—at least when he did not feel comfortable with those around him. But he had found two exceptional classmates on his first day of class one year ago and, although he still came across as sullen, rude and barely talkative to them, they could see past all this and appreciate the words behind the sharp comments and the nasty looks.

Law sighed and shrugged.

On their way to their friend’s house, Law stopped several times to look back and see his friend falling behind, turning his attention to all kinds of irrelevant trivialities—a horned beetle that he cupped in his hands until the little creature got bored with peeking at the world through the holes between the boy’s fingers and flew away, a tin can that he kept kicking with a surprising capacity to not hurt his bare toes and an even more surprising terrible shot. Law put an end to this activity when he was accidentally hit on the ankle with the can and threw it away in the nearest garbage can. Luffy, the sunshine boy, stopped one last time to buy himself a bag of chips and then followed Law down the street leading to Eustass Kid’s home.

It was a small apartment organized around a long, narrow hallway, with several doors on both sides. Kid’s room was the one at the far end, behind a wooden door with a black and red sign on it reading ‘Beware of the punk’.

Law opened the door slightly and he and Luffy peeked inside. Kid was sitting on his bed making a botch of what looked like an alarm clock.

“What’s that?” Luffy shoved Law aside and got into the room.

“What the fuck?” Kid almost jumped out of his bed.

Luffy leaped onto the bed and started examining the clock as Law entered the room behind him.

“What are you fiddling with now, Eustass?” the blue-haired boy asked.

“What? Why are you fuckers here?” Kid cried out.

Luffy was still examining his friend’s invention as Law approached a desk against the wall opposite Kid’s bed.

“I’ve brought you your homework.”

Kid watched his friend put some sheets of paper on the desk. “Anything for tomorrow?” the red-haired boy asked.

“Almost everything,” Law replied, flicking through the sheets.

“Then throw them away.” Kid waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not going to school tomorrow.”

“You know we have an exam, don’t you?” Law looked at him with his ever-tired eyes.

“Precisely.”

Luffy moved his eyes away from his friend’s clock for the first time since he had stepped into his room and examined the red-haired boy. Everything seemed normal in him—from his particularly pale skin to his baggy clothes. He had even felt like painting his nails and wearing his customary red lipstick. Luffy put his right hand on Kid’s forehead and moved his face so close to his friend’s that their noses almost touched. Kid shoved Luffy’s arm away with a quick move of his hand and kicked him away, irritated and flushed.

“Fuck off, Straw Hat!”

Luffy had earned his nickname the first week of school two years ago, when a teacher had asked him to remove his straw hat in class and he had merited a month of detention for refusing to do so. Well, and because he had also broken into the teachers’ lounge to get it back.

“You don’t look ill.” Luffy ignored his friend’s words once more. “D’you have the runs?”

Kid rolled his eyes. “No, you dumb fucks. It’s all a scheme.”

Law gave his friend a strange look and leaned on the edge of the desk, his feet still on the floor. “Will you heat up the thermometer with a bulb?”

Kid flashed a sarcastic smile in his friend’s direction. “It’s a bit more sophisticated,” he explained. “My family won’t take their eyes off me with a thermometer—I don’t blame them—, so I have to be cautious.” He reached across his bed and took a white short-sleeved shirt on his nightstand and turned it inside out. “Look.”

Luffy bent over to see what his friend was trying to show them. Law did not move an inch.

“Look what?” Luffy asked.

“I’ve added some copper conductive threads that carry an electric current to these mechanical switches embedded inside the shirt’s sleeves. This should do the trick.”

Law raised an eyebrow; Luffy’s eyes travelled from one friend to the other, as if he expected to infer the meaning of those words from the look on their faces.

“What?” he asked again.

Kid pointed at the different components of his device as he repeated the information in words that would not make his friends frown. “These little friends here connected to these threads will heat up when I tell them to and will trick the thermometer—and my family—into thinking I have a fever.”

Law examined his friend’s face as if he were trying to solve an unfathomable riddle. Luffy pressed the switches insistently, trying to feel the heat in his fingertips.

“Are you sure about this?” both boys inquired in unison.

“‘Bout what?” Kid asked, his eyes skipping from one to the other.

“This is not hot.” Luffy sank his forefinger even more insistently in a switch.

Kid stared at his friend’s finger for a moment and looked again at Law, who had not averted his eyes from Kid’s face.

Law shook his head. “You’re not gonna make it.”

Kid grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

*****

“Hey, Traffy!”

Law stopped his feet on the classroom’s threshold and turned his head left to see Luffy rushing towards him.

���Could you lend me a couple of things?” Luffy asked. “I’ve left my case at home.” He finished his request with a big smile on his lips as he stopped uncomfortably close to his friend.

Law sighed. “Fine.”

Luffy’s smile widened even more, which could have seemed impossible to anyone who did not know him as well as his friends—or his enemies. The sunshine boy started unzipping his friend’s backpack as they stepped into the classroom.

Luffy bumped suddenly into Law’s back and looked up to see the other boy’s nape. He would have asked what the matter was, had he not noticed Law had had his attention drawn to something inside the room. Luffy ran his eye over the room and saw Kid sitting at his desk, his legs leaning on it, his head bent backwards, facing the ceiling, and his chair tilted back on two legs.

Law and Luffy treaded silently towards the place where their friend seemed to be having a nap and sat on their chairs, Luffy next to Kid and Law right in front of him. They remained silent for some seconds, waiting for Kid to say something, convinced that he was aware of their presence but was just willing to ignore them. Law was the first to break the silence.

“You should say something before I tell you that I was right yet again.”

Kid groaned as he dragged his feet down from his desk and folded his arms over his chest. When he hung his head, he was visibly annoyed and stared vacantly at his desk. “My gadget shorted.”

His friends waited for him to say something more, but apparently that was all his humor allowed him to explain.

“It… became smaller?” Luffy queried. He and Law were not particularly versed in any vocabulary related to technological devices.

“No, you dumb fuck,” Kid answered with his usual courtesy. “It started overheating as I was having my temperature checked. I managed to keep my cool longer than I expected, but I had to end up removing my shirt before I got some serious burn. Such a high temp on the thermometer wouldn’t have been credible anyway.” He stopped for a second. He raised one of his eyebrows and curled his lip, as if an awful idea had just gone through his head. “Come to think of it, a serious burn would have taken me to the hospital… Fuck my lack of endurance,” he groaned.

Law rolled his eyes. “I told you it wouldn’t work.”

Kid eyed his friend, who was sitting sideways on his chair, one arm on the back and the other on his desk.

“Give me a break—,” Kid began to say.

“It’s always the same old story,” Law interrupted. “Not a single one of your inventions has ever worked and in the meantime, you keep failing all your tests because you spend more time working on useless devices and making up fruitless plans than studying.” Law’s voice always sounded angry whenever he reprimanded his friends, but it also showed hints of worry and care, even if he did not want to. Still, displaying such strong emotions was not the norm in Law, and that prevented Kid from answering back right away.

After a moment, he managed to utter some words back. “That’s not true! Remember my gadget to dislocate my arm? It worked!”

“Yeah, you tried it here!” Luffy squeaked. “It was so cool!”

“He actually broke his arm!” Law retorted.

“And I managed to skip two whole days of class. I call that a success.” Kid smiled proudly.

“Hell, yeah!” Luffy cheered as he high-fived his red-haired friend.

“You’re both idiots!”

The three boys were interrupted by the sound of the teacher’s shoes stumbling into the classroom. Law turned round to face the blackboard while Kid snorted in anticipation of the hellish day he would have to endure.

*****

During the following weeks, Law and Luffy attended a series of morning performances starring Eustass Kid. Not many of them managed to get complimentary reviews, but the boy did not seem to become discouraged. Every failure was like a new challenge for him—he could not use the same invention twice, because his family and teachers knew better than to trust him with something when they had already been fooled.

Before a history test, both friends had the honor of attending Kid’s underpants’ premiere when a gadget that was supposed to damage the boy’s uniform overfulfilled its role and burnt his pants. Kid had been forced to take the test anyway, and Law had taken a different route home that afternoon.

They had also gone through a stink bomb that was supposed to go off in class right before an exam, but which blew up during lunchtime. Surprisingly enough, on that occasion, Luffy was the one to get mad at Kid for ruining his meal. As for Law, he was deeply grateful to him, because he did not have to eat his sandwich that day, although he never admitted it.

Probably his most successful gadget was what he had named ‘The Down Runner’. He had taken the wireless battery charger they used at home and had reversed the functioning of the power bank, making it power-hungry and causing the battery of any mobile phone placed on it to drain. He did not have to wait for too long until the day his family had used it over the night to charge the phone they used as an alarm clock. Of course, his scheme had been an absolute success—he managed to skip almost half of his classes that day. Still, he had not been able to use it again and had spent more than a month closely watched.

*****

The incessant sound of pages turning and pens scribbling kept distracting Kid from his notes. He was not the kind of boy who focused on tiny details, but the library had always had that effect on him—every dragging sound of a chair, every drop of a pen, every puff, every cough coming from a distant table and spreading through an air saturated with confused thoughts and teenage anxiety crammed his mind like words crammed the pages of the surrounding books.

But Law was different. How could he spend so much time reading without getting tired? With his notebook and a pencil next to his book, only his eyes travelled from word to word while his right hand waited its turn to turn the page or note down any useful piece of information.

Kid leaned forward. “Hey, Trafalgar.”

Law hummed in his usual tone without moving a muscle. Then he blinked quickly a couple of times, as if he had just remembered where he was and had disturbed himself with his own voice. He looked around, but no one seemed to have paid any attention to him, so he turned his face to Kid and said in a lower voice, “What?”

“What’s that you’re reading?”

Law looked at the book in front of him, put his eyes back on his friend’s face and raised an eyebrow. “Moby Dick. We must read it for language class,” he added for good measure.

Kid leaned back again against his chair and said nothing. Law went back to his book, and Kid tried to concentrate on his notes.

He had managed to keep his focus for almost half an hour when he started hearing an insistent clicking. He looked up at his friend, who was struggling with his pen with a frown.

“Hey, Trafalgar,” he said with a grin on his face after some amusing seconds, “what are you doing?”

“This pen’s not working,” Law answered as he kept pressing the plunger, not managing to push the tip out of the barrel.

Kid reached across the desk and took Law’s pen, brushing the palm of his friend’s hand slightly with his fingertips. He unscrewed the lower barrel and removed the ink cartridge nonchalantly. After having examined the retractable mechanism on one end of the pen, he put the parts back together, pressed the plunger a couple of times and handed the pen back to Law, who had not taken his eyes off Kid’s hands during the entire process.

“Here, try it,” said the red-haired boy.

Law did as he said. Since everything seemed to be working fine, he gave his friend a half-quizzical, half-thankful look and went back to his book, skimming through the page in search of something.

Kid waited undecidedly for a short while and finally spoke, “Hey, Trafalgar.”

“Hmm?” Was the answer again.

“You wanna be a doctor, right?” Kid asked.

“A surgeon, yeah,” Law answered right away without looking up from his notebook, as he jotted down a quote from Dr. Bunger.

“And how are you supposed to benefit from knowing about some boring book by some old guy from the Middle Ages?”

Law looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. He knew Kid was a very clever boy―he could easily grasp the functioning of any kind of device with just a little bit of information and tamper it despite not having seen it before. Still, Kid was also convinced that was all he needed. “I don’t know,” Law finally answered, “but I know it can make me no harm.”

Kid scrutinized his friend’s face unblinkingly, as if trying to read his thoughts through those tired eyes that had caught his attention so powerfully the very first time he had seen them. He then shrugged. “You’re a total weirdo, Trafalgar.”

“You know I am.”

*****

“Hey, Traffy,” Luffy said behind his friend, who was going over his notes one last time before the exam. “What’s the difference between a clause and a sentence?”

Law turned around to help his friend when Kid ambled into the classroom and along the aisle that separated the rows of desks and chairs on which his friends sat, whistling merrily as he hung his backpack on the hanger and sprawled out on his chair. Law and Luffy exchanged glances for a moment, and the latter finally opened his mouth to say, “Won’t you study anything?”

“Don’t need to.”

“Are you finally writing it off as a dead loss?” Law asked as curt as ever.

“Nope,” Kid retorted without losing the smile on his face. “I’ve got the ultimate gadget that’s going to spare me from all of my duties.” He suddenly lifted his shirt to expose his belly. Law averted his gaze slightly startled and Luffy leaned forward curiously. Kid waited proudly for his friends to say something. Luffy moved his hand closer to poke his friend’s abdomen, but Kid immediately slapped it away.

“The belt, you moron!” he cried out.

Both friends curiously regarded Kid’s belt, which looked like a perfectly typical one.

“How does it work?” Luffy asked, not sure if he had to trust Kid this time.

“Well, it should have already taken effect… but it’s undoubtedly my most ambitious project until now and we still got one hour until the exam, so I won’t be losing my shit.”

“Yeah, but how does it work?” Luffy reiterated.

“I’ve been repeatedly told that I totally suck at acting. Well, with this belt, that won’t be necessary. I will get a stomachache for real.”

As usual, Luffy eventually became really interested in his friend’s invention and Law just whispered some swear word as he turned around to face the blackboard while the teacher got into the classroom.

As he listened to the teacher’s lecture, Law kept hearing his friends constantly murmuring behind him and, once the class was over, he turned around to find Luffy with a half-amazed half-worried face and Kid grinning with a frown.

“What’s wrong, Eustass?”

“It’s finally working,” he giggled as he pressed his lower right abdomen with his hand.

Law was really surprised to see that it was working in such an effective way. It was not that he did not believe that Kid was perfectly able to create any kind of sophisticated gadget, but he could not fathom what type of mechanism that belt had to have such a powerful effect on his friend’s health.

“You haven’t told us how it works,” Law inquired.

“Oh, it’s quite easy,” he boasted. “I’ve attached some electrode pads to the belt and hacked an EMS machine. That stands for ‘electric muscle stimulation’,” he added.

“I know that,” Law said impatiently.

“Of course you do,” Kid groaned as big drops of sweat began to run down his forehead. “Well, they send an electric charge into the muscles, charging the muscles fibers and causing a contraction.” Kid writhed in pain again with a nervous smile.

Law got up and walked hurriedly to his friend. He squatted next to him and lifted Kid’s shirt, startling both Luffy and Kid and making the latter blush, and began to unfasten Kid’s belt.

“Traffy, what are you doing?” Luffy asked letting out a guffaw but convinced that he would have done the same if the situation had gone on for ten more seconds.

“Yeah, Trafalgar, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” Kid blurted out, his blushing beginning to spread across his ears.

“There’s no way this shit’s causing such a great pain,” Law stated as he tore the belt off. “Does it hurt you if I touch you here?” Law pressed Kid’s lower right abdomen with his fingers.

“Argh!” Kid yelled. “Fuck you, Trafalgar! I already told you this is what the belt’s supposed to do.”

“You wanted to get a stomachache, and this is definitely not where your stomach is.”

“And where is it?” Kid giggled. “In my head?” He looked at Luffy and both boys laughed nervously, but Law was not in the mood to show even the slightest sign of exasperation. His grave face made Kid start seriously worrying about the situation.

“The pain should’ve stopped right after removing the belt. What other symptoms can you feel?” Law asked looking into Kid’s eyes.

Kid swallowed anxiously. “Well, I feel a bit nauseous—”

“And maybe a bit feverish,” said Luffy, who had placed his hand on Kid’s forehead, suddenly becoming serious, as he always did when his friends were in trouble.

Law moved his lips as if he were repeating some kind of soundless spell and finally whispered, “Appendicitis.”

“What?” Kid looked terribly troubled.

Law rose to his feet and shot to his backpack on the hanger.

“What did you say, Trafalgar?” Kid whimpered while his friend rummaged in his bag.

Law took his phone out, dialed some number and waited. Kid and Luffy would not stop staring at him. A few seconds later, Law was calmly explaining his friend’s situation on the phone.

*****

Law and Luffy waited inside the hospital room for their friend to wake up. After calling for the ambulance, Law had hurriedly explained everything to the teacher, who had accompanied them to the school’s front gate. The ambulance arrived in ten minutes and, after a brief examination by the paramedics, they had taken Kid to the hospital. After class, Law and Luffy had headed there, where they had met Kid’s family and were told that Kid had been operated on. Kid’s family thanked both boys for their diligence and warned them that Kid was sleeping at the moment, but they could go in and wait for him to wake up.

They were both sitting on a couple of chairs opposite Kid’s bed. There was another bed in the room, but it was not occupied. Luffy unwrapped a chocolate bar and started to eat it. Law reminded him not to jump onto Kid when he woke up and took his notebook out of his bag to start working on his homework. He pressed the plunger on his pen, but the tip did not come out of the barrel. He sighed tiredly and tried again. The pen did not seem to be working, but he kept pressing the plunger, hoping it would magically fix itself.

“I wonder how you manage to fuck up all your pens,” said an amused voice.

Law and Luffy raised their heads and saw Kid looking back at them with a smile and a frown on his face.

“Hey!” Luffy run to his friend but braked before he reached the bed, suddenly remembering Law’s words. “How are you?”

Kid groaned and started mumbling something while Law got up and stepped next to the bed, across from Luffy. He handed his pen to Kid as he listened to his grumbles and light jokes. Kid unscrewed the barrel to repeat the same procedure he had followed the other time.

“How did you know about this disease?” Luffy asked, much more relaxed now that he saw Kid was in high spirits again.

“It’s one of the first diseases I studied,” Law answered. “It is also very common in teens and young people, so I thought it was a good idea to know about it, in case I had to diagnose myself at some point.”

How did he do it? Kid was fixing Law’s pen with his eyes fixed on it, but he could not stop thinking about what had happened. Law was always so bad with mechanics and had never understood Kid’s inventions. Hell, he did not even know how to fix a simple pen. Still, he would always listen to his explanations and try to understand them, even though he clearly thought Kid should be filling his time with other occupations. And he had even asked him how that belt worked to help him. Apparently, some medical knowledge would have been useful in helping Kid know what his mechanical device could and could not achieve.

Kid let out a deep groan. His friends stopped their chatting and looked at him.

“I guess having broader knowledge of things other than mechanics would help me work on more efficient gadgets.” He stopped for a second. “Maybe I should take a break from inventing things for a while. Not like they have been actually working, anyway.”

Luffy’s tone of voice made his disappointment clear as he started raving about how Kid’s gadgets were one of the few things that could make school tolerable.

Kid did not pay much attention to his friend—he knew he would be happier if he could spend time at school with both of them and that he would soon forget about the gadgets. The red-haired boy looked at his other friend out of the corner of his eyes. Law had not let out a single sound or moved a finger since Kid’s words.

“You weirdo,” Kid whispered.

He could not tell if he had heard Law chuckle or if he had just imagined it, but it made him turn his head to his friend anyway. He would have sworn it was the first time he had seen Law’s teeth behind such a heartfelt smile.

[addoration]

fanfic writer 20 questions

i wasn't tagged but @zebsfloppyears invited anyone who wanted to do this to do so, n i was bored. hope u dont mind vienna!

1. how many works do you have on ao3? 79. i have 79 works. and im working on a long fic rn so i probably wont be uploaded another fic for a while to make that number rounded. its bothering me. 2. whats your total ao3 word count? 232,222 3. how many fandoms have you written for and what are they? 7 fandoms! most.. prolifically? if i may use that word.... for loz breath of the wild, and his dark materials. 4. what are your top five fics by kudos? 1. finding words enough - i legit dont remeber much of this but basically link is mute and revali speaks on his behalf. ppl seem to love it. rated G. 2. making cocoa for spencer reid - just a lil criminal minds family piece between rossi and reid, idk. bit of a character study! rated T. 3. magic might stain the air - my first merlin fic i posted (out of 2. lmao) but i really hate this one becaue i rushed it and i could have done so much better!!!!! rated M, beware tags. 4. snow on snow, snow on snow - i rllyy dont remember this one at all. lmao. link/revali pre-slash, rated G. 5. whenever we feel - we evaporate - i think? this was my first fic on ao3! and it's the first part of a lil aziraphale/crowley series that became dearly beloved to me but i never really got back to. rated T.

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not? i do now!! i didn't used to because i had an ocd thing about seeing the number go up when half of them were my responses, but thats an obsession that has since left me. i want to apologise to everyone who commented n didnt get a reply sdfghjsf i feel so awkward n i cant respond to comments made years ago now lmao. now i love responding to comments, its such a joy to communicate with my readers and thank them for their kind words!!!!

6. whats the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? i dont write angsty endings; the fics can get as angsty as possible but they must always end happily. sorry :/

7. do you write crossovers? no, i don't. they're not for me!

8. have you ever recieved hate on a fic? not hate exactly.... but i do recall one comment telling me they thought i had rushed the work and it was a bit sloppy (not in so many words tho). i totally agreed with the commenter but i was a bit :/ at reading that yknow

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind? i have been known to write smut occasionally, though i dont think i have a "kind" or a "brand".

10. have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of, but (as vienna said in their answer), it's not something that i think about or check for!

11. have you ever had a fic translated? nope! i welcome it though.

12. have you ever co-written a fic before? nope! in theory i would be open to it however i am probably very difficult to work with lmao

13. whats your all time favourite ship? such a hard question because it rlly depends what fandom im currently in, but. baruch/balthamos live rent free in my head. as do aziraphale/crowley, espeically my specific brand of them which is queerplatonic <3

14. what's a wip you want to finish but dont think you ever will? lmao if you had asked me a week ago, i would have said my current longfic, when you catch him, he burns through your heart, like a shooting star burns the skies but im actively up and working on that again, so. i guess something i dont imagine i'll return to any time soon is my series of harth/link fics, you hold my touch in you, simply because it's been a while now, and i dont imagine that such a minor npc as harth will be in botw's sequel, so... how will i rekindle my desire to write for them. idk! it's all up in the air though - i haven't necessarily abandoned any of my unfinished fics, theyre just on indefinite haitus.

15. what are your writing strengths? i would like to think that my poet's voice shines through my prose and therefore that my description is sufficiently good! lmao i have to sometimes physically stop myself from writing 5 paragraphs waxing poetic about the scenery. also honourary mention to dialogue. im pretty proud of some of the lines of dialogue ive written.

16. what are your writing weaknesses? hhghgh action. handling a big plot sensitively. ive been really struggling with making sure ive got hold of all my threads in my long fic. i dont think ive let go of any yet but im constantly paranoid that ive dropped one lmao. also i find action so hard!! the pacing of it, the choice of words, the making sure the reader doesnt get bored by not over or under describing whats happening! hhg.

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? if this means in the sense that a character is speaking a different language in the fic, then. i've seen it done a few ways. personally i ofc want to understand whats being said, so i like it best when the line is written in english but perhaps put in italics, with a tag saying smth like "they said in french/whatever langauge". ive also seen it done as typed in the langauge followed by the english translation in italics. either way works, i just don't rlly like it when it's completely untranslated!! even having like a lil dictionary in the end notes works.

18. what was the first fandom you ever wrote for? good omens lmao. i wrote fic before that but im not going into that, and i dont even think i could find it again bc it's lost in the depths of ff.net. i was also 13/14. so yeah :/

19. what's your favourite fic you've ever written? ppl dont really like this fic bc it's gen/not shippy and possibly also bc it was inspired by music, but. i have a real soft spot for my fic rose quartz and cool safflina. (botw, T) i wrote it while listening to la dispute's album panorama, and i think having the music helped me write with such a good flow. it's a very poetic piece, though. not for everyone. i also rlly like the great frost of 1684 (good omens, Gen) though neither of them are anywhere near my popular works' stats.

20. who do you tag? low pressure tagging @snidgetwidgeon, @itcantbe, @cyraclove, @unmaskedcardinal and everyone else who fancies it!!

[dravencroft]

@angryowlet-blog replied to your post:

im not the anon, who pretty much said what i would had ofc, but U ARE AN ARTIST! and u have every right to be upset/bothered/etc if someone who agreed to pay u in fact, is ignoring u w/o said payment – from what im understanding w/the posts? pls correct me if im wrong? but pls never think ur art, that u put so much detail/love into and devoted ur time, is not worth anything, bc let me tell u, it is, ok o/ and if said person who is avoiding payment never pays or at least, gives a solid reason for not replying back to u, or paying, then i wouldnt ‘do business’ w/them ever again. no one should be using u for ur art, and that is was it sounds like happened. trust me, i legit cried w/what u did for me, and like… im still amazed and i plastered them everywhere possible ^^;; again, never think ur not an artist <3<3<3

I apologize in advance for contradicting you, but I can’t consider myself an artist. This is simply my own opinion, and I’m not asking anyone to agree with me, but I have always believed that calling yourself an artist is a special and personal thing: it doesn’t matter how objectively good or bad you are at it, you’re the one who chooses if you’re an artist or not. And I don’t consider myself as such. I feel like it would be an insult towards all those people who actually think of themselves as artists, and thus are artists. I guess this doesn’t make much sense, but right now I don’t feel like arguing or trying to explain myself better, I’m sorry. 

Besides, when that person asked me to draw for them I told them I would gladly do it for free. They are the one who insisted to pay me (”I don’t even know you and you’re doing this for me, paying you is the least I can do!”). I don’t really know why they disappeared without paying and I don’t mind it; what makes me upset is the fact that I don’t even know if they are satisfied with what I did or not. I want to make people happy, I don’t care about getting something in exchange, so I wanted to at least know if what I did was okay to them, simply this. I guess I exaggerated by complaining so much, but I always whine and whine and whine...

[goldenxbby]

cold cuts in the moonlight

part 2 and part 3

εїз pairing: fezco x f!reader

εїз warnings: not much just blood, slight arousal, and poorly explained art history... BEWARE 

εїз word count:  5669 hehe

εїз summary: fez doesn't know where else to go except outside your window.

εїз a/n: this is like my very first time writing and sharing a fic so pls be nice i don’t know what i’m doing. this is based off everything we’ve seen in the first epi of season two of euphoria about an hour after the big fight (ahhh). i couldn’t decide whether to make the pov lexi or y/n so i just half based it off lexi so it can be used either way. also i plan on making this a series so if literally anybody likes this i shall try and post again.

She had just finished washing her face using the self-care tactic as a form of distraction since absolutely no one was answering their phones. She thought at least there was some normalcy compared to the commotion from this night's party.

returning to her dark room she flopped onto her bed grabbing her phone connected to its charger. She went straight to her messages for the 5th time tonight to look over Fez’s text. At the party when he put his number in her phone he sent himself a “:))”. It made her giggle when she first looked at it, but his time it sent a pang of worry and nostalgia through her heart. 

She missed the warm fuzzy feelings she had felt on that couch with him almost an hour ago. The moment before she saw Fez’s smirk turn to a tense stare. When his eyes had those little twinkles of light swimming in a pool of deep blue she so badly wanted to dive into, and not a complete shield of darkness blocking out the person who made her cheeks blush and whole body warm from head to toe. She worried where he was, what he was doing, what he was thinking, what he was thinking of her- no shit that was stupid why would she even be in his mind right now? She was a speck in the night he had. He must have had a million more important and interesting things running through his head than her boring self. He probably had already forgotten about her. 

Well, shit. Now her heart had shifted past her stomach and all the way outside her body, probably touching bedrock. She needed another distraction or she knew she would start her self-loathing monologue and that would definitely make this night even worse.

Opening twitter was a mistake. Having to look at the car crash that was her drunk and definitely high east highland peers tweeting about the pummeling and sharing videos of Nate Jacobs being unconsciously dragged out who knows house sent fear down her body. Not because what Fez did scared her she was more shocked than anything. No, she felt fear because seeing how everyone reacted to the fight made her realize her reflex after seeing Fez almost murder Nate in front of everyone was to be concerned about him. A man she barely knew and had shared maybe 6 sentences of conversation with. A conversation that left butterfly’s in her stomach and cheeks hot, a conversation that made her feel desired, listened to, comfortable, excited and seeing feelings she’s not sure she’s felt in a long time… or maybe ever. 

God, how was she falling for a guy who will probably never speak to her again? A guy that she barely knows. Why was the thought of falling make her feel thrilled? 

All those ideas took a pause when Rue's name popped up on her phone with a text notification. 

“rue: you talk to fez?”

Getting a text from Rue that wasn’t a reply was surprising, but getting one about Fez was even more. Staring at her phone with the idea that Fez might have also been thinking about her and even went out of his way to text someone he trusted about it made her bite her lips trying to hold in the joy. 

Oh, fuck those thoughts came back. What if she was totally delusional? Why the fuck would Fez talk about her? I thought we registered that he already forgot about her? He clearly wasn’t asking Rue about her. Rue probably saw them on the couch. Duh, they were at the same party and anybody that saw them together would be asking her the same question. The duo was extremely contrasting from the outside and she knew that but she also knew it felt like one of the rarest connections anybody would be lucky to have on this earth. 

Shit, she needs to reply. Rue can see she’s read the text. Trying to think of something that wouldn’t give a tell of her emotions was hard under the time constraints she gave herself. She landed on “wdym?”. Jesus the fuck was that? She never texts like that she knows Rue knows she has to use urban dictionary to talk to anybody their age. One message and she’s already failing at coming off as normal. 

*ding* 

Oh God is Rue gonna bully her now she must know somethings up? With all her anxiety right now she can not take Rue's teasing. Uneasily opening her phone with her eyes closed and holding her breath she finally takes a peak.

“rue: he asked for your addy?”

 Holy. She felt holy at that moment. Like all her dreams were manifestations like she must be God's favourite like an angel would appear out of nowhere and grant all her deepest wishes. And then it actually happened, it actually fucking happened. Unbeknownst to her at the time though. 

A soft tapping from her window barely took her out of her thoughts. Looking up from the phone she was disassociating into, she saw some of the light from the moon above her had been blocked in her window. Getting up and pulling her curtains to the side with a squint she saw him. 

His expression completely different from the hostile glance he gave her leaving the party earlier. The look he was wearing now staring down at her held innocence in it somehow. He quickly changed his questioning pout into a sincere half smile when she whispered “fez?”. That half tug of his lips and her name leaving them made her almost jump to open her window. 

You know when the Roman Empire fell and everyone was in such deep poverty that they became obsessed with the church? And all the paintings at the time were of saints with those golden halos? 

Well, Fez’s halo was white right now under the moonlight and he was swiftly becoming the saint she’d obsess over to divert from the poverty that was being away from his company. That’s all she could think about as the words “What are you doing here?” left her mouth. 

Fez's face dropped down looking at the ground then back at her the questioning unknowing look coming back to his face. “Ima be honest wit you, I’m acting on my gut rn instead of my head.” he chuckled. Making her smile up at him. She gained a confidence she’s only ever felt around Fez “We’ll does your gut wanna come in?”. All the self doubt she had held minutes ago was completely gone and the only thing filling her head was… just Fez. She could only think of him and trying to keep him with her for as long as possible.

 “…yeah.” he clearly took some time to think over his answer. Like his confidence had dissipated now having to actually go through with the wants that brought him to his current spot. Moving to the side to let Fez in she’s confused when he doesn’t enter. But looking back she noticed Fez taking his shoes off and then handing them to her with a “Not tryna get yo floors dirty ma.” which makes her giggle and whisper “Thanks.” while taking them. Bending down and out of his view, she places them next to her dresser and by the time she’s standing up he’s in her room. 

If Fez could have seen where she had been crouched over he wouldn’t have stood so close. Like there was barely fucking millimeters between them. If he had more room then maybe just maybe the wind wouldn’t be knocked out of him. Feeling her body heat radiate off her, her beautiful big eyes looking into his in the darkness, looking at her lips that must hold magnates in them because he had to force himself to stay right where he was and not smash his against hers.

 All that forcing and not breathing left silence in her room with only her breathing being heard. Since it seemed he wasn’t talking anytime soon she tries to think on her feet to not seem as awkward as she truly was. And all that came out of her mouth was a soft “Hi.”. This made Fez’s lost look change to a small smile. He replied “Hey.”. 

Is she really blushing at that? Jesus, how embarrassing is it that a small word like hey from his lips which were painfully too far away for hers could cause her to blush so fucking hard right now? To try and conceal her cheeks she looked down which probably wasn’t the brightest decision. 

It was so blaring she would have been confused why she was only just now looking at his beaten up hand, but Fez’s face existed so she didn’t question herself. Without think she let the sentence slip “Can I?” and looks back up to his doll like eyes. 

His smile was now gone and she could tell he was biting the inside of his lip but before she could feel like she violated his comfort he nodded his head. Finally stripping his gaze from her and looking to the side.

She went back to surveying his fist and let her hand go to caress his knuckles. Hearing him take a breath in she looked back at him worriedly, but he was already looking down at her. “Fez, are you okay?” she questioned sympathetically. Switching his sight again Fez replied “Life’s been worse ya know?” which immediately caused her to respond with almost an eye roll “That’s not answering my question.”. 

At first, she thought fez was taking his regular time to communicate as it was well known to anybody that had a conversation with Fez that he wasn’t necessarily a fast talker. But then the silence grew and he still wasn’t looking at her, so she opened her mouth with nothing prepared to say just hoping it would come to her in the moment like an idiot. 

She didn’t have to worry about what to say though because Fez finally spoke and looked back into her eyes with a new intensity that caused her to gulp saliva that wasn’t even in her mouth. 

“You know it doesn’t matter how high I get… I can never run away from that feelin of stress in the back of my head and let life slip away…” he paused “and I hate going to those stupid party’s, they’re always filled with annoying kids that either say two words to me buying shit off me or say the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.” he laughed lowly “…but when you sat next to me… I…” his eyebrows contorted “I felt this comfort… like shit was alright, right now, and when you spoke it was like entertaining like every time you left I was waiting for you to come back and tell me another crazy fucking fact.” he finally smiled again but then looked down to his feet “I just cant be at home rn… you know?” taking a breath in he found her eyes “and I felt like if I’d wanna be anywhere else it be wit you”. 

Five hours, five minutes, five seconds ago she would have never thought she would have heard anything so touching, so romantic from anybody… especially Fezco. That confession left her brain completely blank. It was usually running at 200 mph but she always just chose not to share what was going on in there… since no one would listen anyways or maybe they never heard her? That felt better to believe at least. 

Oh, she should replying now, right? Shit- okay what the fuck do you say to that? Fuck fuck fuck. She was really regretting never putting herself out there with guys before (I mean it’s not they were going for her either so it wasn’t fully her fault). If she had an ounce of experience she’d know what to say to Fez but she really couldn’t think of anything like her brain was literally empty. But she can’t leave him hanging or he’ll think she’s disinterested and she was the complete opposite, so she must speak like now.

“You need water.”

Great, that was really romantic. Really communicating her feelings, isn’t she? Fez replied blinking slowly at her “huh?”. Well, the words have already started spilling out her mouth why stop now right? “When’s the last time you drank water tonight?” she questioned. “I don know?” Fez said back clearly confused about where her detour was going. “Exactly, you need to stay hydrated, stay here and I’ll get you some water.” she spits out at an unnatural speed. 

Running past her bed through her door she leaves Fez alone in the darkness of her room. Smiling at her cute and obvious awkwardness, Fez goes to sit on the end of her bed. Shuffling a little he looks down at her comforter. Sliding his hand on it to feel its softness he laughs to himself at the contrast of his roughed up hand touching her frilly and flower covered blanket. It hit him then, the pang in his heart realizing that steering himself into her perfect life with his mess of shit you could try to call a life, (you know based on the technicalities) would be selfish of him. That his danger vs her innocence would ruin her like the blood that had stained the white long sleeve shirt he was still wearing. 

Looking away to shake the realistic thoughts out of his head, Fez searched her room. Not looking for anything in particular just searching for something to take his emotions away. It landed on a polaroid of her from winter formal on the corner of her mirror. 

God, she was so beautiful he wished he could jump into the picture and transport back to that night. He'd grow a pair of balls and ask her for a dance instead of watching her from the sidelines all night. Maybe even get a kiss. His eyes kept moving around her room watching the decorations she chose to place all over. The clutter covering every surface, like her make-up and hair shit and stuffed animals and books of course she had a healthy selection. 

Then his eyes found it. Something he recognized. The deep green knit was perfectly folded on her dresser. He had forgotten about the clothing item. Not out of disinterest but just from everything else going around him at the moment didn’t leave much space for him to think of it. But she did. And she cared enough to take it with her and neatly fold it in her space. 

Her room was like a window into her brain, her otherworldly brain. everything around him made him feel like he wanted it to become a part of his daily routine, being here physically or through reminders like his clothing. He wanted to become a part of this.

A knock makes his head whip towards the door. It's soft and he can tell it’s coming from her. He walks up and before his hand reaches the knob he hears her voice softly whisper his name. Smiling at the call he opens her door fully and sees her with way more than a water. She smiles sheepishly as he gives her a questioning but humorous look “I couldn't open it with my hands full.”. He lets a laugh slip through his lips “I see dat.”. 

She walks past him into her room as he closes the door and dumps all the content onto her bed except a plate that stays in her hand. They both look down at the pile and she explains “I thought if you hadn’t had any water in awhile you probably haven’t eaten either, so I tried to make a sandwich, but I like never make them so I thought it probably won’t taste too good, so then I put chips so you don’t starve because of my terrible sandwich making skills…” Fez laughs switching his gaze to her “and then I thought your hand must hurt really badly, but we don’t have ice so I grabbed peas to work instead, and I realized that I hadn’t had water in a while either so grabbed one for myself.” she breathes out and smiles at her work while her smiles at her. 

Looking up at him she speaks “Well sit down.” and motions to her bedside. “uh sorry.” Fez murmurs and sits, grabbing the water while she hands him the plate of food “thanks.”. Without replying she reaches for the pillows he rests on shifting and fluffing them to properly support his back. Noticing her putting on the caretaker role Fez chuckles “You know I didn’t come here for you to take care of me?” she retorts back taking her hands from the pillows “I know but you deserve to be taken care of.”. Fez doesn’t want to fight her on what he deserves and doesn’t as he knows she definitely believes he’s a better person than he actually is and is strong minded enough to argue with him over the truth he’s known all his life, so he falls silent looking at his lap. 

A dip in the bed forms as she goes to sit next to him. Handing him the plate and grabbing her water bottle and the frozen peas she sits next to him. The cold of the peas reminded her whose hand they should be in. Without thinking she grabs his and places it on her thigh to properly hold and support it, which causes Fez to place the plate on his lap. She lays the peas on his knuckles as softly as possible and he winces. A “sorry.” escapes her mouth as she looks back at Fez’s face. “It's okay just the adrenaline’s startin to wear off.” he jokes. She nods, thinking “Oh I think I have some ibuprofen in here!” Fez goes to say it’s fine but is cut off before he even begins to speak seeing her turn and bend down searching in her bedside table. “I know it’s in here.” she states. His eyes instantly go to her ass that’s basically on full display at this moment. His eyes widen and to catch his breath he looks away while also trying to adjust the plate on his lap as high as humanly possible.

“Got it!” she exclaims and goes back to her original position while pouring two pills into her hand. She then ushers her hand in front of Fez’s face expecting him to take them out off her palm with his fingers. But her whole body tenses as he connects his lips to the side of her hand using it as a funnel and quickly sipping water. Not to help them go down his throat though, as he’s mastered dry swallowing, but to help the cottonmouth that’s formed from looking into her eyes while connecting his lip to the side of her palm, damning himself for ending the interaction too quickly. 

She tried to act as nonchalant as he appears so she goes back to iceing his hand on her lap. Laughing at herself thinking about how what she was doing wouldn’t be called iceing rather peaing, which helped her slip back into the same comfort she felt sitting next to Fez on the couch earlier that night. 

“So do you wanna talk about what happened or for me to entertain you?” she looked up at him smirking. Fez smirked back replying “Entertain.”. Looking up at the ceiling she took a second to think of what she could possibly entertain Fez with. “Hm, well I know you enjoyed the history shit.” Fez laughed at her almost forgetting where his hand rested “Yeah that pee shit was wild.” his remark made her add teeth to her smile. “Well, something almost as wild as the pee shit was like… well you know about medieval art right?” his smile then grew “Do I look like I know anything about art?” he threw back to her with a quirked eyebrow. She laughed “Well arts easy like that though, you don’t really need to know about it or what it means you can just make up what you think it means.” he looked jokingly judgy towards her. 

“Arts like the OG pick your own adventure story, you know? Everyone can believe what they think it means and it’s all valid and different and even the artists original meaning doesn’t matter, and it’s even better than pick your own adventure stories cause the longer the piece of art is on earth the more meanings it can have it’s like infinite.”. Fez whispers almost under his breath “fearless…” she laughs at his comment adding “Even like something like… a leaf, that can have so many meanings in art like nature or life or death or delicate or weak, it’s never ending.” she contently smiles at him. 

“What do you think it means?” Fez asks, his eyes quickly scan her eyes then lips then eyes again. She looks straight on not being able to handle his intense stare “Uhh well the way it’s captured matters like its context, but if you asked me to just picture a leaf and what the picture I created in my head means I’d say…” she closes her eyes and Fez uses that as an opportunity to taste her sandwich just in case it’s actually bad then she wouldn’t have to see his reaction. “I’d say it means to me humankind… the way it has those lines that look like a skeleton and how they are ever changing, but are resilient through difficult circumstances and flourish after the hardest times in their lives… and all inevitably die.” she opens her eyes looking over to Fez who looks almost starstruck, which she first takes as a huge compliment but then realizes that his reaction was definitely towards the sandwich half hanging out his mouth. It made her giggle “You weren’t even listening were you?”.

She could barely speak through her laughter, but Fez swallows as quickly as possible bringing his eyebrows together “Nah nah I was.” replying “Oh really?” she looked doubtful towards him. This caused Fez to sit up straighter and state “Yeah, but I disagree with the skeleton thing I think they look more like our nerves than our bones.”. She turns away not out of embarrassment more out of trying to hide the smile that had formed from seeing that he listened. Someone actually listened to her. 

Placing the peas back on his knuckles as he continues eating her sandwich “Sorry for doubting you it just looked like you were really into the food.” she looked back at him sharing her smile “I mean yeah it’s a good sandwich.” Fez complimented. “Thanks, I tried to make it like I’ve seen my mom do I just don’t make ‘em cause the cold cuts gross me out.” she shared.

“Why would you touch ‘em if they gross you out?” Fez asked genuinely “Cus I’m not trying to starve you out of my own selfishness Fez.” she joked. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special y/n.” he smiled and took another bite which caused her to blush and look down at her lap to hide from him. 

Looking at her reaction caused Fez’s heart to warm like it was in front of a bonfire. This warmth that grew over his body made him reflex his fingers to hold onto her thigh, fully grabbing it. She went blank feeling the electricity from his touch and dampness in her pajama shorts.

“…The medieval art?” he asked, afraid he made her uncomfortable but not wanting to let go of her. “Oh yeah…” she looked up at him “Um, in a lot of medieval paintings like especially family photos women would carry ferrets.” there, she was back and he relaxed probing her to continue “Ferrets?”. She laughed “Yeah they’re like weasels, like longs furry slinky’s.” Fez almost coughed up the bite of food in his mouth from her remark which cause her to laugh “They always had these ferrets with them cause they were like a good luck charm for fertility.” Fez's eyes widened. She nodded “Yeah, wild and they would even have them in their rooms while fucking. Hoping it would help bring them a baby.” with a suggestive glance Fez asked, “You learn all dis from reading?”. 

God she was praying the absence of light in her room could hide her obvious tomato coloured cheeks. “Yeah it seems weird but at least I know to never get a ferret as a pet.” she laughed. “You ont like kids?” he questioned becoming serious all of the sudden. Blinking at him she replied “Hm? no? … I just- I wouldn’t want one anytime soon…” she said worried she offended Fez with her lame joke, but he moved past it quickly. 

“You know the more time you spend with kids you realize they smarter than adults.” taking in his words she answered with a small “hm”. 

“Like life distracts us and complicates shit and maturity is just stupidity adults hide behind.��� Fez claimed. “Well if that’s true then everyone that goes to east highland are extremely mature.” she jokes causing Fez to chuckle but quickly reply “Except you.”. taken aback she lets out a breathy “really?”. She quirked her eyebrows at Fez “Yeah ma you one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.”. 

That would have been a minimal compliment from anybody except Fez, who was raised by his grandmother, one of the only people he’s ever loved, he believed she was the smartest woman in the world and claiming y/n wasn’t far behind was like saying his vows for Fez. With a genuine “thanks fez.” she looked down again shyly. 

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Hm?” Fez’s question caused her to look back up “You went off on me not starving but what about you?”. Fez’s care made her whole body temperature go up at least 50 degrees “I- I already brushed my teeth.” she stated pointing at her lips. Fez scoffed dramatically “So did I.” which made her smile. “I care about my hygiene y/n.” Fez rolled his eyes to make her laugh even more “Sorry Fez.” she joined in on the joke making her movements more comical. “So have a chip to earn my forgiveness.” He angled the plate towards her “But it’ll make my breath stink.” she argued “And the mustard on that sandwich hasn’t made mine?” he pushed. She looked into Fez’s eyes deeper, confessing “Fez you could smell like literal dog shit and I wouldn’t care.”. he wasn’t sure if that statement was supposed to make his dick twitch but the knowledge that her seemingly sarcastic joke was her way of saying she liked being around him, made blood continue to rush to his groin. 

Fez picked up a chip and silently placed it on her lips which she rolled her eyes at, but took in her mouth. “Mhm that’s good.” she moaned as she grabbed more from his plate. Fez was just trying to make it look like the feeling of her lips on his fingers didn’t make him feel like he could hear angels sing and almost completely forget about the bloody things he had done a couple of hours earlier. 

She went on to explain to Fez how one of Amrita Sher-Gil’s portraits was basically the first diss track, as she felt he enjoyed her ramblings on fertility ferrets in medieval paintings enough to talk about one of her favourite painters. 

Fez could tell she was getting tired since her speech almost started to become as slow as his and seeing that she ate all of the contents on his plate a while ago he thought he’d suggest for her to get some rest. “Ma, I don’t wanna keep you up you should get sum sleep.” Fez turned his head towards her resisting the urge to cup her face. She yawned “Fine, but you have to stay.”. 

Fez looked into her eyes contemplating leaving in case she’d do something she’d regret “…fine.”. She smiled jumping up like she had gained all her energy back. Grabbing his plate and now thawed bag of peas she ran on her tiptoes out of the room. 

With the click of the door, Fez was left in silence. He felt his phone vibrate grabbing to unlock it. 

“ash: where tf u @????”

“fez: im out.”

“ash: u think it a good idea bein' out rn?”

“fez: ill be back in the morn.”

“ash: where r u fez”

“fez: ill be back in the morning.”

“ash: fuck FINE”

Fez was so annoyed with Ashtrays interrogation he didn’t hear her door open. "What are you doing?” Fez jumped a little “I was texting Ashtray” she came closer standing in front of the bed. “No I mean what you’re wearing, I thought only psychopaths wear jeans when they sleep?” now fully in bed, swaddled in her comforter she looked up at him waiting. Fez anxiously chuckled. if she asked him to cut off both his legs right now looking at him like that… he’d do it. 

“Aite close your eyes.” he said standing up. She quickly covered her eyes with her palms. "You have boxers on right?” She felt the bed dip and comforter open “Yes I have boxers on.”.

Taking her hand off her face, she looked into his eyes “I ain’t a man whore y/n.” Fez smirked at her which made her smile. “I know that.” she whispered as their faces were now as close as they were when he first came through her window. they smiled and looked into each other's eyes till Fez said softly “come er.”. She happily scooted into him, holding onto his upper waist and laying her head on his chest trying not to be too loud when sniffing in his scent. Fez held onto her waist and shoulder, keeping her as close to his body as possible looking down at her she said “you know for a non-man whore you sure do give it up fast for the first night.”. Fez laughed at her like her jokes could never get old or stop completely surprising him. She continued “if you wanted to cuddle me so badly you could have just said that at the beginning and we’d be here way faster.”. “am I really giving off that vibe?” Fez laughed. “no I’m just teasing you.” she said scrunching her face. 

He looked into her eyes like he wanted to devour her which made what he then said surprising to y/n “You know this ain’t a date right?”. With her confidence now depleted she felt embarrassed and rejected even though she was joking before and had her legs tangled with his. She scoffed trying to play it cool “Yeah Fez, jeez I’m not a kid.” he looked confused saying “Nah nah I know I mean… if I took you on a date, it be like a real date like to the diner or sum romantic shit.” he ended confidently. “oh.” she looked down now blushing then looked back up at him “Well if you asked me to go on a date to some romantic place like the diner… I’d say yes.”. fez smiled with his teeth “Would you go on a date wit me y/n?” he questioned with audible excitement. “I’d love to… but you can't ghost me, can't leave after tonight with no texts and expect me to wait by the phone for you.”. “Pft like I’d do that?” he played but y/n’s face became humourless “Fez.”. “I promise, I promise!” he said almost lifting his hands up to show defeat “good.” y/n smiled rubbing her cheek into his chest. With her eyes closed, she finally allowed herself to lull to bed. 

Fez felt regret at that moment. He wished he would have lied to y/n. He should have convinced her he wasn’t hungry. Maybe if he didn’t down the sandwich she made him he’d be able to grow some balls and kiss her. But he was too insecure about his breath and wanted the first time he kissed her to be perfect. So he just looked down at her in adoration knowing that if he hadn’t of acted on his gut tonight he wouldn’t be falling asleep with a smile on his face and the girl of his dreams in his arms. 

Then it hit him. How innocent she was compared to him, how cruel he was compared to her delicate nature. Scared that by bringing her into his life he would break her like the leaves she once talked to him about. But he never felt the way he does about her for anyone else, in all honesty, he never thought he would. Fezco always imagined having a girlfriend as something that would do more bad than good. Sure he has had casual sex but he never muttered more than five words at them just wanting to get from point a to b not really caring who with. Dealing with a whole girlfriend on top of all of his other extreme stressors seemed pointless. He'd never thought he would want to open up to someone that deeply or have feelings for someone that was even close to love. But with y/n… he wanted it all. To learn everything about her, to share everything about himself with her, to become a part of her life, to spend more moments wrapped in each other’s arms, to listen to her ramble about her random interests, to laugh with her, to make love with her, to love her and to protect her… He knew if he was going to allow himself to try his wants with her he’d have to promise to himself that’d he would protect her in any way possible.

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - Mind’s Quest: Arriving With The Crowd

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Please beware of roller-coaster emotions from this. A sweet moment yet has a deep meaning between them, is ready to serve you~

*) I put [...] on my thought about some scene.

Translations under the cut~

Part 1

??: Lucien, MC, we met again.

On the way when Lucien and I get off from work, suddenly a familiar voice came from behind us.

We spontaneously turned around and saw our neighbor, Mr. Zhang, carrying a supermarket bag and beckoning to us with a smile.

Mr. Zhang: Recently, I saw you two commuting to and from get off from work together every day. It's a really good relationship.

MC: Mr. Zhang also helps your wife buy vegetables every day.

Mr. Zhang: My wife’s legs are not good, so I will run more errands. It’s not the same as when you are young.

Mr. Zhang: I remember MC said last time that you were going on a business trip, when would you leave?

MC: I will leave tomorrow.

Mr. Zhang: Oh my, it's no wonder! Then I won't bother you, so I'll leave you two.

Lucien: Okay, I understand, please be careful Mr. Zhang.

Mr. Zhang smiled and looked at us again, then strode away.

I received an outdoor reality show a while ago. I planned to go to the countryside of a neighboring province to shoot for three months. I heard that the signal over there is not very good and it is inconvenient to communicate.

In order to make up for the time when the two places were about to be separated, Lucien and I made an appointment to spare some time every day before departure.

Almost all the spare time was used by us when commuting to and from get off work, visiting the supermarket, and buying breakfast.

Even if it is somewhat "inseparable" in the eyes of others, I still feel that this time is far from enough.

When I was thinking about it, Lucien gently squeezed my hand, recalling my thoughts.

Lucien: How do you plan to spend the last night at home?

MC: Speaking of it, it might be a bit boring...

MC: In fact, my luggage hasn't been packed yet, so I'm always worried about what's left.

Lucien: Let me check it with you later.

Lucien: There is a distance between the shooting location and the urban area, so you still need to prepare well.

MC: Okay.

I looked up at the bright evening sky, and couldn't help but move closer to Lucien, entangled his arm.

MC: But the weather is so good today, let's go slowly.

Lucien: Alright.

As he said that, Lucien slowed down, we dragged a long shadow and walked slowly towards home.

--

Early the next morning, Lucien escorted me to the station.

After taking the luggage out of the trunk, I stood still and did not move.

Standing at the gate of the station, the dismay of parting suddenly surged up.

Lucien turned around with a sense and helped me stroke the messy hair in my ear.

Lucien: This time it's my turn to help you take care of the green plants. Don't worry, I will take care of them.

Lucien: And for you, if you need my help over there, remember to tell me.

MC: Okay.

I opened my mouth, but couldn't say anything more. Lucien sighed lightly and pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: It's ok, the words you want to say, I understand.

Lucien patted my back lightly, as if he wanted me to feel at ease.

I gradually calmed down, feeling the breath in his arms a little greedily, wanting to save a strength for myself.

None of us spoke, just let time pass quietly.

A radio alert sounded vaguely in the station, and the restraint on my waist was loosened. I also let go of my hand and raised a smile to Lucien.

MC: Phew... Recharge completed.

Lucien: It seems that the big producer is ready.

MC: Um! I will work hard, strive to go and return early.

Lucien: Okay, I'll wait for you to come back.

I waved to Lucien, pulled up the luggage and walked into the station.

After passing the security check and walking far away, I couldn't help but look back.

At the entrance of the station people were coming and going. I don't know who they are going to go to or who they have just said goodbye.

Lucien still stood on the spot, looking at me from a distance.

A train came into the station, and the crowd quickly engulfed him.

But knowing that someone is watching, has filled me with confidence.

--

Exclusive Radio

Lucien: The question just now is almost like this.

Lucien: After you go back, you can adjust your opening report based on today's discussion.

Lucien: Do you have any other questions?

Student A&B: There's none.

Lucien: Okay, that's all for today.

Student A: Huh? There is another hot search on the news.

Student A: "The villagers broke the news that the film crew was polluting the environment...This film crew seems to belong to the company "Miracle Finders", right?

Student B: Yes, I saw their propaganda a few days ago, saying that they are going to the neighboring province to shoot a reality show.

Student A: Local villagers said that they dumped sewage into the river and also posted photos.

Student B: This is too unqualified, right? Do you want to destroy people's environment in the name of local customs?

Lucien: ....

Student A: Wait a minute, Professor Lucien is the consultant of "Miracle Finders" .....

Student B: It's, Professor Lucien, we didn't have other meaning...

Lucien: It doesn't matter. It's a matter of fact. If the film crew really makes a mistake, it is normal to be criticized.

Lucien: But I want to know, did the photos on the hot search actually capture the scene where the show crew dumped sewage?

Student A: Not really, only pictures of the river.

Lucien: Then we better not draw conclusions so quickly.

Lucien: There is no objective fact of "the program group dumped sewage" in this photo, only the result of "the river water was polluted."

Lucien: People can stand from different angles and use this result to infer many different stories.

Lucien: There is only one true fact.

Lucien: How do you prove it, are the stories you heard were the facts?

Student A: I.....

Student B: Look, the program group issued a statement to refute the rumors!

Student B: They also did a picture comparison. It turns out that the picture on the hot search is a picture several years ago.

Student A: Huh? Then someone maliciously spread the rumors.

Student A: ... Sorry Professor Lucien, we were a little impulsive just now.

Lucien: There is no need to apologize to me, it is essentially the fault of the rumors.

Lucien: However, since the thesis is about to start the topic, you can use this matter to remind everyone.

Lucien: Whether you are doing research or encountering social events, don't be too impatient. Set your mind down and analyze the logic carefully.

Lucien: I will also look at your logic loopholes during the defense. So, I hope you will prepare it well.

Student A: Good professor, we must prepare carefully!

Lucien: Well, let's go back.

(Lucien left the room and close the door behind)

Lucien: Huh? No phone, no news...

Lucien: Forget it.

--

Part 2 - Main Story

I settled down at the shooting location and confirmed some shooting-related matters. It was too late when I got back to my senses.

--The whole day's hard work hits my body, but the unfamiliar environment makes me sleepless.

I unlocked the phone and saw that the conversation with Lucien was still staying in the report after arriving.

Suddenly I wanted to talk to him, so I raised my arm to find the signal direction and knocked on what I saw today.

MC: "Today, I was dealing with emergencies, the network was unstable, and the scene was very chaotic..."

MC: "But fortunately, I saw a very interesting book on the way, specially introduce words with special meaning."

MC: "For example, this one."

I posted a photo of a page in the book with the Greek word "pathos" on it.

T/N: The Greek word pathos means "suffering," "experience," or "emotion." It was borrowed into English in the 16th century, and for English speakers, the term usually refers to the emotions produced by tragedy or a depiction of tragedy. "Pathos" has quite a few kin in English. A "pathetic" sight moves us to pity.

It means the sense of yearning and longing for those who are absent.

I waited for a while, but Lucien didn't reply, he should have fallen asleep.

I confidently continued to type on the keyboard and talked out all kinds of experiences in one mind.

MC: "The villagers are very kind and hospitable and helped us a lot."

MC: "The air is also very fresh, and a faint fragrance of green grass can be smelled everywhere."

MC: "But there are so many bugs! Thanks to you reminding me to wear long pants yesterday."

I told everything from morning to night, and when I was about to say something, my phone suddenly shook.

A video call invitation appears on the screen.

I sat up, scratching my hair twice before press the answer button.

MC: You haven't slept yet...

Lucien: Well, just after finishing the report, I received your self-thinking message.

Lucien: I thought I couldn't wait for your good night today, but I didn't expect to receive a "big gift before going to bed".

MC: I don't know if you're still awake, is it bothering you?

Lucien: How come, I didn't feel disturbed.

Lucien: It should be said that I am very happy to see you share these experiences, in every detail.

Lucien: It seems that I am also experiencing these with you.

Lucien picked up the phone on the side and swiped, and smiled in a good mood.

Lucien: The book you took is also very interesting. The author has developed such a rich interpretation just around the word "pathos".

Lucien: This is the first time I know what this word means in Greek.

MC: Does this word exist in other languages?

Lucien: Well, I remember that this word is often used in English to convey the appeal of artistic works. It also means "sympathy" and "suffering".

MC: When you say this, you feel that there is a subtle connection between these two interpretations.

MC: Missing or longing for someone you care about can be considered "suffering", right?

Lucien: Maybe it is true.

Lucien: When the person you care about is not around, everything about her becomes more conspicuous, which makes people more aware of the fact that she is not around.

Lucien: Just like today.

Seeing that I was a little confused, Lucien pointed to his mobile phone.

Lucien: I saw some people on the Internet saying that the villagers at the filming location are somewhat dissatisfied with you.

Lucien: Is this the emergency you dealt with?

MC: ....I thought my actions for solving the problem were fast enough to keep you from discovering it.

Lucien: I thought you would talk to me about this sooner, so I have been waiting for your news.

I was stunned for a moment, and then quickly smiled at Lucien.

MC: Don't worry, those on the Internet are all rumors, I’ve already solved it.

MC: In fact, we get along very well, and we promised to let the guests help a family draw portraits tomorrow.

Lucien: Well, then I won't worry about it.

Lucien paused, and suddenly moved closer to the camera, seeming to want to see something clearly.

Lucien: Why you keep supporting your arm like that, is it not comfortable?

MC: No, because the signal at this spot is better...

MC: The accommodation conditions here are actually pretty good, and the rooms are clean and tidy.

MC: Except for the occasional signal, you have to looking for the angle yourself.

Lucien: I can imagine how you would look for a signal while holding your phone.

MC: You're teasing me again!

Lucien: Alright, I won't teasing you. It seems that you can sleep well tonight.

I lay down again holding my phone and patted the hard bed underneath.

MC: Newcomers may still have to get used to the bed for a few days.

Lucien: In this case, I will lie down with you.

Lucien turned off the top light and walked to the bed to lie down. I followed and turned off the ceiling lamp, leaving only the small lamp beside the bed.

The screen went dark, and Lucien's face also looked a little fuzzy.

We lie on each other's sides, looking at the screen, as if we were lying face to face.

Lucien kept looking at me. I was a little embarrassed by him, and my eyes began to drift around.

Lucien: Where are you looking at?

MC: ... I can't sleep, I want to divert my attention.

Lucien: It's better to close your eyes first, and I'll help you.

Seeing Lucien's encouraging gaze, I closed my eyes, and his low voice quickly came from my ears.

Lucien: Next, can you tell me what sound you can hear over there?

I pricked my ears and listened carefully, perhaps because my vision was blocked, my hearing became extremely sensitive.

MC: There is the barking of puppies and the roar of the machine.

MC: The alarm bell of a car rang...It was a bit noisy.

I subconsciously covered my head with a quilt, remembering that Lucien was still watching, and then secretly revealed half of my face.

Lucien: I seem to forget to remind you to bring earplugs.

Lucien: If you bear with it, the owner should wake up soon.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, the noise outside the window stopped, and the world returned to silence.

Lucien: Is it quiet?

MC: Well, it feels quieter now than before...

We were silent in unison. Maybe the night is getting darker, and there is no other sound in my ears for a long time.

I don't know how long it took before I vaguely caught a tiny movement.

There are small ups and downs in the steady, it is Lucien's breathing.

I brought the phone closer, and subconsciously let my breathing keep up with his rhythm, as if we were in the same space.

My mind slowly calmed down, and my consciousness gradually drifted away in this sudden connection.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Hm?

MC: Good-

Did I say "good night"? It was too late to confirm, and my mind was gradually empty.

I do seem to be a little sleepy.

I don't know how long it took, Lucien's breathing gradually became even longer.

The girl on the screen is asleep, but she seems to have not released the phone yet.

Lucien sighed almost inaudibly, then curled the corners of his mouth again.

She was right, "The yearning and longing for those who are not around" does make people suffer.

Lucien gently stroked the sleeping face on the screen with his fingers, and spoke softly.

Lucien: Good night.

--

Part 2 - Memory Silhouette

Half a month has passed since the shooting. On weekend mornings, I was putting on makeup while chatting with Lucien.

MC: Professor Lucien has worked hard, and accompany me to get up early on weekends.

Lucien: It's okay, I just came back from buying breakfast.

MC: Huh? You finally remember to have breakfast on time!

Lucien: I heard that the spring limited soup dumplings from the Huxin Road store will be off the market in a few days.

Lucien: Thinking you might like it, I bought it.

Lucien: However, I forgot that you were not at home and accidentally bought two portions.

Lucien fiddled with the bag on the table and sighed softly.

I touched my flat stomach and sighed.

MC: I knew I should have eaten it again before I left, now I have to wait until next year...

Lucien: Then wait until next spring, we will buy it the first day it goes on sale.

MC: Okay! Then if you want to eat more today, just eat one for me.

Seeing Lucien nodded with a smile, I just patted the sunscreen on my face and closed my makeup bag.

Lucien: How do you feel that your dressing time has become shorter today?

Lucien: It usually takes at least half an hour before you come knock on my door.

I hummed twice, leaned close to the phone and tapped on the screen.

MC: Professor Lucien may not be aware of it. Make-up takes time and it takes time to remove makeup.

MC: At days, moving bricks are precious as moving gold, and I’m sleepy at night, so I don’t want to bother to remove my makeup.

MC: And now, it’s more important to be able to concentrate on talking with you for a while.

Lucien looked at me, smiling at the corners of his eyes and eyebrows.

Lucien: It seems that I was too accustomed to this intention before, and I will cooperate more with your time in the future.

Lucien: Speaking of this, I found a lipstick at home yesterday, which should have been dropped by you.

Lucien got up and disappeared from the screen for a while, and when he returned, he had the lipstick in his hand.

He opened the lid and showed it to me. I recognized that this was the one I carried with me before. The paste had already bottomed out.

MC: Actually this one is about to run out, just throw it away for me.

Lucien: Do you like this color very much?

MC: Yes, it's very versatile.

Lucien thoughtfully twirled out the remaining lipstick. I looked at him with a curious expression and couldn't help but smile.

MC: Lucien, in your eyes, are the various lipstick look similar?

Lucien: Just looking at it, it's a bit difficult to tell.

Lucien: But after you apply it, I can see the difference.

[Not me crying over this conversation ㅠㅠ]

MC: Unexpectedly, Professor Lucien is also have a talent for such things...

Lucien: This is not my talent.

Lucien: You make these colors look clearer and more beautiful.

[UGLY SOBBING]

It sounds like a joke, but his tone is very sincere.

I was a little embarrassed to look away, and my heart was filled with sweetness because of his attention.

MC: Do you have any favorite color?

Lucien: I have. What I see now is the one I like the most.

My cheeks were slightly hot, and I was about to say something when the phone alarm rang suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

Lucien: Is it time for assembly?

MC: Mmhm, how can time pass so fast...

MC: Then I'll go out first.

Lucien: Be careful on the road and take a break.

Lucien waved his hand as I did, and the sunlight shining in the room reflected his smile more clearly.

After finishing the call, I also subconsciously glanced out the window.

Although we can't spend this weekend together, but fortunately, we still enjoy the same sunshine.

--

Part 3 - Main Story

It has been a month since the shooting started, and the daytime sunshine gradually warmed up.

Three poles on this day, we set up the machine under the sun, but a guest did not wait.

Perhaps because of the sweltering weather, the guests were not very enthusiastic about their work, and even began to find all kinds of excuses to try "ask for leave".

Physical discomfort, temporary travel, family affairs... all sorts of things like

The reasons for yes and no are endless, which makes us very embarrassed.

I communicated privately a few times, hoping that they would cooperate with the work, but within a few days, the old drama will repeat itself.

Today was another morning without anyone. My colleagues took turns to the residence to persuade. I also made a few calls to the guests’ agents.

Fortunately, after some coordination, the guests finally came forward, and we started the machine in the afternoon.

But in this state, the shooting process becomes a bit difficult. The venue is not cool enough, there are too many retakes caused by the wear, and I don't like interactive sessions...

Little things that did not constitute a problem have become problems. I tried my best to explain from them, so that my colleagues and guests did not quarrel.

In order to ensure the quality, I temporarily decided to stop work ahead of schedule after the key parts were taken.

I took advantage of the break time and prepared to go to the nearby supermarket to buy some supplies to comfort everyone.

Along the way, the villagers who came home passed by, and the sound of conversation and the roar of tricycles filled the evening breeze.

Although they looked tired, everyone was happy on the way home.

I suddenly remembered the days when I left work with Lucien before I left. At that time, I also had the same happiness as them. It was expectation and stability.

I don't know what Lucien is doing now. Did he leave work on time? Did he eat well? I took out my cell phone, but found that there was no signal.

I turned off the screen, walked silently to the entrance of the village, and suddenly a bright light shrouded my head.

The street light was on, and the warm light spread on the road outside the village. In front of the platform not far away, a bus full of passengers was pitting in.

Looking at the scene in front of me, I seemed to be gently pushed by a force and changed the direction of advancement.

I got on that bus.

--

Clerk: Welcome!

MC: ....

Originally, I just wanted to take the bus to relax, but I didn't expect to sit at the terminal --- the railway station accidentally.

The power that clamored in my heart drove me to buy a ticket for the fastest return to Loveland City.

When I walked out of the Loveland City Railway Station, it was raining heavily outside.

I watched the pedestrians passing by in the rain, and the reason for escaping gradually returned to my brain.

I walked into a nearby 24-hour store and sat down. I was looking at the night view outside the window and combing my thoughts. My phone suddenly vibrated, and Lucien's messages popped out.

Lucien: "Are you done?"

MC: "Well, it's finished."

I thought about it and added another sentence.

MC: "it's raining outside."

Lucien: "It's a coincidence, it's raining in Loveland City."

Listening to the patter of rain, I calmed down a bit and dialed the video call.

Lucien quickly picked it up. With the light on, I saw the familiar room behind him at a glance, which seemed to be my living room.

MC: Lucien, are you at my house?

Lucien: Mmhm, the rain is a bit heavy, let me move the green plants on your balcony.

Lucien: Are you still outside?

MC: I'll go out to buy something for everyone, and I'll go back when the rain drops a bit.

Lucien: It's already a bit late, so be careful when you go back.

MC: Don't worry, I am fully equipped.

As I talked, I nodded vigorously, as if to prove something, and as if I just wanted to convince myself.

Under the bright light, Lucien's dark circles were obvious, and his face looked a little pale.

There was a bit of sourness in my heart, I subconsciously moved closer to the screen.

MC: Lucien, what have you been up to lately?

Lucien: There is a study at the end, and the things at hand are a bit trivial.

MC: Is it very hard? You look a little haggard.

Lucien: In order to avoid blemishes as much as possible, it is indeed a bit harder.

Lucien: But it will be over soon, don't worry about me.

Lucien: But you seem to be very busy lately. Have you encountered any difficulties?

MC: There is a little problem...but fortunately, it is not difficult to solve.

I hesitated for a moment, thinking that I secretly ran back to Loveland City like this, I always felt a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject.

I glanced at the room behind him, and suddenly caught a bright color near the window sill.

MC: Lucien, what's on the windowsill...?

Lucien: Recently, a new flower shop opened near the research institute. There are many type of flowers and they are very beautiful.

Lucien: So I bought some privately and put them in your house.

MC: Well, I want to see it too.

Lucien switched the camera to the rear, and I saw a row of flowers on the windowsill, almost in full bloom.

It can be seen that these flowers are taken care of by Lucien very well, but the colors are all gorgeous, and they are inevitably dazzling when they are placed together.

always feel that this is not in line with Lucien's style, so I spoke with some doubts.

MC: Lucien, did you choose this all?

Lucien: I just chose the type of flowers, and the clerk helped to match the others.

Lucien: What's the matter?

MC: Nothing... they are bloomed very well.

MC: Is it time-consuming to raise so much?

Lucien: It does take time to change the water and pruning, but once in a while, it can be regarded as a kind of rest.

Lucien: Sometimes it is a little more comfortable to do things according to your own will, right?

I vaguely think that he meant something. Did he find out what he sneaked back into? It shouldn't be so obvious....

Just as I was thinking about how to respond to him, Lucien turned back to the camera and met my gaze.

Lucien: What about you, is there anything you really want to do now?

MC: Yes, I really want to go home, and immediately sleep for three days and three nights, and then go to eat hot pot and soup dumplings.

MC: I also want to watch movies and dramas instead of the ones I made myself.

Lucien: I thought that at least one of these wishes was related to me.

MC: Of course it is related to you. These are all things I want to do with you.

MC: It’s just that sometimes I don’t dare to think too much. It would be a little sad if I remember that you are not around.

I lowered my eyes, on the opposite side, Lucien did not speak for a while. Only after a while, I heard his voice again.

Lucien: In fact, every time the flowers bloom and wither, I also get annoyed.

Lucien: It would be nice if I could see it with you. If I raise it with you, it might be able to bloom longer.

Lucien: I am used to witnessing these moments with you. When you are not around, it is really uncomfortable.

I looked at his slightly bent eyes, and the bottom of my heart loosened for a moment, like a seed coming out of the soil.

MC: Then next time there are flowers blooming, please send me a picture.

MC: Although the network on my side may be delayed, it can be considered as a witness with you.

The smile on Lucien's lips deepened, and he nodded gently.

Customers opened the door one after another, and I glanced out the window. The rain had stopped.

Worried about revealing my position, I hurriedly moved closer to my phone.

MC: Lucien, the rain stopped on my side, I'm going to catch the last bus first.

MC: Let's continue tomorrow, go to bed early. Good night!

Lucien: ... Alright, pay attention to safety. Good night.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, I hung up the phone in a hurry, and quickly bought a ticket to the neighboring province.

The sky was still gloomy, but my mood faintly became lighter.

One-sided thoughts may be troubles, but if this trouble gets a response, it turns into some kind of power.

The feeling of wanting to escape disappears. Between parting and reunion, I will run as soon as possible.

Because I know he is waiting for me.

--

Part 4 - Main Story

The filming work has been going on for two months, and the sense of summer has gradually become clearer.

It wasn't until the evening when the heat subsided. Colleagues walked to the restaurant one after another. I took out my mobile phone and walked to a place where there was a signal, and left a message to Lucien.

MC: "I have finished work, is Professor Lucien still busy?"

The words "The other party is typing" appeared at the top of the dialog box, but soon stopped and changed to a video call invitation.

I hurriedly picked it up and Lucien's figure appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white coat and seemed to be still in the laboratory.

Lucien: Sorry, I may have to work overtime today.

Lucien: When checking the data, we found some problems, and we need to "rescue" them.

MC: Is it serious?

Lucien: Fortunately, it's just a bit time-consuming to process.

Lucien rubbed his eyebrows, and my heart tightened suddenly as I looked at his tired face.

MC: I remember that you were finishing up last month, is it almost to the deadline?

Lucien: It's less than a week.

Lucien: This time I brought a newcomer, and there are a lot of things that need to be run-in in the details.

MC: They might feel a little nervous, it's the first time they take on an important job.

MC: But with Professor Lucien, everyone will be able to find the way out smoothly.

Lucien smiled and moved a little closer to the screen.

Lucien: I find that in your eyes, "Professor Lucien" always seems to be very powerful.

MC: Not only "Professor Lucien", in my eyes, Lucien is omnipotent.

MC: As the saying goes, those who can do more work, but you can't force yourself too much.

MC: Maybe you can’t rest assured now, but I have a tip to make you feel better.

Lucien: Oh? I really need it. Please tell me your advice, teacher MC.

MC: When it's really difficult, just give yourself a wish.

MC: In this way, every day we are moving towards that final wish and we have overcome many difficulties without realizing it.

MC: For example, arrange a vacation or travel, as long as it is something you like to do!

Lucien looked at me for a while and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher MC. I understand.

Lucien: In fact, this wish has always existed, maybe I'm just too impatient.

MC: What is Professor Lucien's wish?

Lucien blinked at me and skipped the question.

Lucien: If I remember correctly, your filming is also coming to an end.

MC: Well, the part of the reality show has basically been filmed, and I will go to the neighboring city next week to make up some empty shots.

MC: It is estimated that I will be able to go home soon to appreciate the flowers and plants that Professor Lucien has taken care of!

Lucien stretched his brows, and the smile in his eyes became deeper.

Lucien: Well, they are also looking forward to seeing you.

--

The neighboring city’s framing plan is based on the theme of "going home from work", for which the on-site director summoned a group of extras.

However, it rained suddenly before the filming started, so we had to buy an umbrella temporarily and distribute it to everyone.

I looked at the monitor and thinking about the moving line. I saw the light of the traffic light blurred in the rain, like a wet oil painting.

Considering that the theme of this reality show happened to be related to painting, my heart moved and decided to change the shooting plan.

MC: Please use an artistic way to express the theme, we will do slow-motion processing.

Think of this block as the background of the painting. You can use the props to simulate the people in the painting.

The actors seemed to be very interested in this suggestion and tried them.

MC: Let's try it first.

The camera moved slowly on the slide, the light slid between the transparent umbrellas, and the crowd moved closer to the camera and dispersed.

I seemed to catch a glimpse of a somewhat familiar figure in an instant, but in a daze, the figure disappeared again.

...How could Lucien be here? I must have saw it wrong

I blinked vigorously, forcing myself to concentrate.

Some of the people in this "painting" singing, some strode across the puddle, and some pulled out a stack of papers from their bags and threw them into the sky.

The night scene oscillated in these chaotic lines, and seemed to be lit by the warm atmosphere.

A piece of A4 paper flicked in front of the camera. After a brief loss of focus, the familiar figure suddenly appeared in the line of sight.

MC: ....?

I refocused, but found that the scene in front of me was not an illusion.

A narrow gap was opened between the crowds, and I saw Lucien holding the umbrella, walking towards me.

He didn't make any movements, but just followed the crowd forward.

The light-colored coat was stained with some rain, which did not weaken his refined temperament at all.

This is the "Professor Lucien" I am most familiar with. He walks in the crowd calmly, as if he just got off work.

The splendor in front of me instantly lost its sound, and my eyes could only follow him closely.

But why is he here, why did he join the group acting team?

Doubts and surprises are intertwined in my heart at the same time, I really want to run to him immediately. However, at present, the only thing I can do is to look up from behind the camera.

It seemed that I had been waiting for a long time, and the moment I looked at him, I looked into his full of emotions-eyes.

In the next second, he took out a familiar lipstick from his pocket, twisted his fingers apart, and slowly started writing on the inside of the umbrella.

Perhaps it was because the people around him were acting in an exaggerated manner, and his movements did not appear abrupt.

I subconsciously stared at his umbrella and slowly pieced together what he had written.

P-A-T-H-O-S, is the word we talked about.

The continuous rain water glides along the umbrella surface as if soaking it.

There is a faint bitterness in my heart, it is the smell of yearning and longing.

After a brief gaze, Lucien passed the equipment and stopped beside me, as if accidentally covering the umbrella over my head.

I came back to my senses and refocused my attention on the shooting until the group actors had all gone.

MC: Cut!

MC: Xiao Fu, tell the actors, just follow the feeling they just did, and take another shot later.

My colleague walked to the side to greet the actors. Seeing the atmosphere loosen, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the person behind me.

I took a straight step forward, squeezed his sleeve, and poked his cheek again. Lucien leaned down cooperatively, and let me touch him.

MC: Am I really dreaming...

Lucien: Do you need to check again?

The smiling eyes are so near. As if bewitched by the light, I opened my arms to embrace him.

The faint fragrance of green grass enveloped my breath, and I couldn't help but move closer.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Mmhm, It's me.

He was holding an umbrella in one hand, and he held me tightly on my shoulder with the other. I didn't care if there were other people beside me, and buried my face in his arms.

A real touch came from under my palm, and the tips of his hair flicked gently in my ears, itchy.

At this moment, without the barrier of the screen, even if I bury my head in his arms, I can clearly outline his appearance.

Lucien gently patted me on the back. I don't know how long it took before I heard his voice.

Lucien: Is it confirmed now?

MC: Hm.… It is indeed our Professor Lucien who has replaced the actors.

MC: But why are you here?

Lucien: Now I'm here, will it affect your work?

MC: No way, you just provided a super awesome picture.

I remembered the busy work he said before, and subconsciously stroked the back of his hand.

MC: Is your research over?

Lucien: It's just ended today.

MC: Why didn't you take a break first...

MC: It’s a few hours’ drive from Loveland City to here.

Lucien: Compared to the past few months, a few hours is nothing.

Lucien: Besides, someone suggested before that I should give myself a wish to face the problems.

Lucien: Now that the problems have been resolved, I will come to realize this wish.

I looked into his eyes and suddenly understood what his "wish" was that he didn't tell me that day.

MC: But we have to go back to the countryside after the filming today. Is such a short time enough?

Lucien: Not enough.

Lucien: But the moment I saw you, I still thought it was worth it.

Lucien: I just don't know.. Does this suit the "going home" theme required by the big producer?

I looked at his questioning expression, and couldn't help but gently squeezed his face again.

MC: Totally suitable.

MC: Lucien, welcome back.

--

Part 4 - Memory Silhouette

After a brief reunion, Lucien will return to Loveland City.

After the filming was over, my colleagues took the equipment back first, Lucien and I got on the bus to the station.

There were not many people on the bus at this time. We sat side by side by the window, and the neon lights circling outside the window passed by.

This short reunion still made me a little dazed. I stared at Lucien's reflection on the car window, as if I couldn't see enough.

The bus stopped for one stop, opening and closing the gap between the doors, Lucien turned around, with a helpless smile on the corners of his lips.

Lucien: Suddenly holding it so tightly, are you afraid that I will run away?

He raised our tangled hands, and I realized that I had just accidentally used some strength.

I let go hastily, and reluctantly hooked his finger again.

MC: It's a bit, after all, "sweet dreams" are always too short.

Lucien: If this is your dream, don't worry, it won't slip away easily.

Lucien gently folded his fingers and clasped my fingers.

Lucien: Speaking of it, I'm very curious, why didn't you choose the Loveland City for your shooting this time?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: Loveland City is a bit far away from us, and suitable shooting sites have not been approved for various reasons.

MC: But there is another reason that I don’t want to shoot in Loveland City.

Lucien: Hm?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: At first, everyone was back at their home. If they were in Loveland City, they might not even want to work.

MC: Especially knowing that I'm in the same city as you, I can't help but feel sorrowful.

Lucien smiled and stroked the back of my hand lightly.

MC: But how do I remember that you seem to have sneaked back once halfway through?

MC: Huh?! How did you know..

I looked up at him in surprise, but Lucien smiled and clenched my hand, pulling me closer.

Lucien: When you called me that day, it was in the store, right?

Lucien: There is an activity label on the shelf behind you, and I saw the words Loveland City.

Lucien: Moreover, the call that day was particularly smooth. Normally, your signal in the village should not be so good.

MC: ... Then why didn't you break through me?

Lucien: You look a little shaken, I have been waiting for you to tell me why.

Lucien: But you didn't, and you comforted me in turn.

Lucien: So I guess, at that time, you didn't really want to escape, you were just pissing off, or wanted to calm down, right?

The stop announcement of the bus intervened in our conversation, and after a short stop, we continued to move forward.

The night scene outside the window quickly receded, and only Lucien's smiling eyes stayed on me.

I secretly sighed in my heart. Maybe it is because he always looks at me like this that he can always guess any of my thoughts.

MC: I should have guessed it a long time ago, nothing can be hidden from you...

MC: But thanks to you chatting with me at that time, I didn't really waver.

MC: Knowing that someone was waiting for me to go home, it instantly became full of energy.

Lucien: Silly, you have worked very hard.

Lucien: Compared with the past, you already become stronger and braver.

Lucien: Instead, I need to get strength from you now.

I looked at his slightly frowning eyebrows, and there was a burst of soreness in my heart, and I leaned over to embrace his waist.

MC: Can this give you a strength?

Lucien: Hmm... But maybe you have to hug a little tighter.

MC: You are shameless.

With that said, I moved my body and moved closer to him.

A muffled chuckle came from the top of his head, and the temperature between his arms soon covered his back. I leaned on his shoulder and suddenly thought of something.

MC: By the way Lucien, who told you about the filming location?

Lucien: If I told you, would you blame that person?

MC: Of course, it's not right to disclose the itinerary privately

MC: But criticism belongs to criticism. Since it was revealed to you, I will still personally thank this person

I reluctantly rubbed his chin and buried my face in his shoulder.

I felt Lucien resting lightly on the top of my head, and a slight vibration followed his voice.

Lucien: I'll tell you when your work is all over.

Lucien: Now there are only two weeks left, and we can enter the countdown to go home.

Lucien: I hope that when you see me again, you can still be as happy as you are today.

MC: I will definitely be happier than today.

The bus kept entering and leaving the station, muting our tail sound in the slightly bumpy carriage.

I counting in my mind, there are three stops, two stops, one stop left. I'm going to say goodbye to him again.

However, the rainy season is about to pass.

I think it will be a clear sky on the day of reunion again.

--

Part 5 - Main Story

The three-month shooting is finally over.

Before the hottest day came, I quickly packed my luggage and returned to Loveland City.

As soon as I got out of the station, I immediately looked around, looking for Lucien's figure.

The moment I dragged the box in the crowd, a familiar call suddenly came from my ear.

??: MC!

I turned my head and saw Lucien standing outside the security line of the station, his eyes gazed deeply on me.

MC: Lucien!

MC: Excuse me, please let me-

I dragged my luggage around the crowd, and ran towards him. Seeing Lucien, I rushing towards him, I simply let go of the luggage and jumped into his arms.

Lucien: .... Be careful.

Lucien warned me like this, but his arm had already hugged me tightly.

Rarely, he didn't lean over to hug me and carried almost all of my weight in his arms. I had to stand on tiptoe so I could barely touch the ground.

There was a slight suffocation in the chest, and none of us willing to let go.

MC: Lucien... I miss you so much.

Lucien: I miss you too.

A low breathing sound came from my ear, Lucien let go of me a little bit, his fingertips slid from the top of my head to my shoulders, followed by his eyes inch by inch.

Lucien: Our big producer seems to be tanned, tired and thin.

MC: Really?

I also raised my hand and stroked Lucien's cheek, rubbing it with affection.

MC: Our Professor Lucien has also lost a lot.

MC: It seems that I have to eat more delicious supplements these days!

Lucien smiled and nodded, and pulled the two luggage behind me.

Lucien: Then let's go home.

MC: Well, this time I really "go home"!

--

After returning to my home after a long absence, looking at the familiar furnishings, I finally let go of the tension that had been in the past few days.

Tired from the long journey, I quickly changed my clothes, walked into the room and opened the curtains, and at a glance I saw the flowers that Lucien kept on the windowsill.

It is a new variety that has never been seen before, and it is still in full bloom.

Lucien walked up to me and was slightly taken aback at the scene on the balcony.

Lucien: ... It seems to be brighter than I imagine.

MC: Imagine?

[DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT 1 KILOGRAM OF ONIONS??!]

Lucien's eyes flickered. I thought maybe he didn't know much about flower arrangements, so I volunteered to pick up an empty vase.

MC: It’s okay, just a little adjustment.

I picked a few flowers of similar color from a few bunches of flowers, trimmed them briefly, and put them in the empty vase again.

MC: Look, is this better?

Lucien: It looks a lot better.

Lucien: Before, I just followed the maintenance instructions to raise it, but it turned out that it needed to be adjusted like this.

MC: The most important thing is to keep the flowers well, I just add a little ornamental.

Lucien: In order to make flowers and people happy, it is best for us to raise them together.

Lucien: If you raise it next time, can you please help me arrange the flowers?

MC: Of course, it's on me!

I raised my head confidently, Lucien rubbed my hair with a smile.

Lucien: In return, I have a small gift for you.

Lucien turned around, picked up a small box from the coffee table and handed it to me, opened the box and there was a lipstick inside. The authentic rose red reminds me of the handwriting printed on the transparent umbrella on that rainy night.

Lucien: Choosing lipstick for the first time, I don't know if you like it.

MC: It looks so beautiful...Why would you think of buying lipstick?

Lucien: I just think this one should suit you well.

Lucien: Want to try it?

MC: Yes!

I picked up the mirror on the table and was about to turn the mouth red, and suddenly met Lucien's gaze from the mirror.

MC: You, why are you looking at me all the time.

Lucien: Can't I watch it?

MC: Not really, just a little embarrassed...

I turned around while I was talking, only to find that he was still looking at me in good time.

MC: .... Lucien!

He was amused by the way I was bulging. He seemed to think a little bit, and came over to take the mirror from my hand.

Lucien: Sorry, it's been a long time since I looked at you like this, I really don't want to miss any of your expressions.

Lucien: But if you are not used to it, I have a compromise.

Lucien: I'll help you put it on, how about it?

This fresh proposal made my eyes bright, and I quickly turned to face him.

MC: Okay, I won’t miss any of Professor Lucien’s special offer!

MC: But did you even know this...

Lucien: I'm not that good, and I may need you to be a "guinea pig."

Lucien: But I will try to be careful.

MC: It doesn't matter, Professor Lucien's "fault tolerance" here is very high.

Lucien: It seems that this is a special treatment for me.

Lucien: Come, sit by my side.

Lucien took me to sit on the sofa, tucked the hair beside my face behind my ears, and then focused on the lipstick.

He opened the lid skillfully, and squeezed it unnaturally

His gaze rested on my lips for a while, and I opened my mouth slightly in cooperation before he made the first stroke.

The moisturizing paste pushed against the lower lip, Lucien lifted my chin unconsciously, extending the color stroke by stroke.

His movements were very light, I was a little itchy, and was blocked by him, so I couldn't move, so I kept blinking and looking around.

Lucien seemed to have not noticed my struggle, so he put on lipstick slowly and didn't forget to look around, as if admiring his own work.

Lucien: This color really suits you, and looks better than I imagine.

MC: Is it "imagination" again?

Lucien: ,After all, it is a gift for you. Since I bought it, I have been imagining the way you put it on.

Lucien: Now, I can finally see it with my own eyes.

Lucien's fingertips gently rubbed along the edge of my lower lip, as if tracing its shape.

I caught a glimpse of the flowers behind him, and my heart trembled slightly.

I don't know how Lucien faced his longing, maybe it was a short daze interspersed with his busy work, maybe it was a "wish" in my heart...

I didn't deliberately think about it, but I felt that it was like a shadow.

I gently held his face and looked at him seriously.

MC: Lucien, now I am back.

MC: Whatever you think of or what you want me to do, you can tell me directly.

MC: After all, during this time, I have also accumulated a lot of wishes about you...

MC: Just as we "compensate" each other!

Lucien looked at me in silence for a while, and finally raised the corners of his mouth.

Lucien: Since I got my wish just now, now it's your turn.

Lucien: What do you want me to "compensate" for you?

I spread out Lucien's hands, seeing that there was still the lipstick that he had just rubbed off on his fingers.

I suddenly realized that it is precisely because there is no barrier at the moment that we can directly leave marks on each other.

And the long separation that I experienced made me want to be more greedy at this moment, leaving more proof of existence around each other.

I followed my heart to stood up and kissed his lips.

Lucien: ...

The newly applied lipstick rubbed against the corners of his lips, like a small blooming flower, dotted on his fair skin.

This color is really beautiful.

MC: If I want this kind of compensation... is that okay?

Lucien met my gaze, raised his hand and rubbed the corner of his lips, and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Of course you can.

He hugged me up and let me sit on his lap.

Sunlight spreads on us through the gauze curtain, adding warmth to the narrow distance.

Lucien: I thought before that you might need to adjust to your original life for a while... Lucien: Now it seems that I am the one who has been worrying too much.

I took the lipstick from his hand and made a few letters out of thin air.

MC: Remember the "pathos" we talked about before?

Lucien: Yes, I remember.

MC: Later, I read the book carefully and found that there are actually two kinds of misses described by this word.

Not only do I miss the other person when we are separated, but even if the other person is right in front of me, I still long for him.

MC: So, although we are not in the same place in the past few months...

MC: But to me, I never felt separated from you.

Lucien raised his head slightly and looked at me, his eyes seemed to be filled with shards of light.

Lucien: So, even if I am a little greedy now, is it okay?

MC: It’s okay.

Lucien: I not only want to see unique colors, but I also want to leave colors related to me in it.

Lucien: Is it okay?

He took my shoulders and seemed to draw something on my shoulders with his fingertips.

I lowered my head and looked over. The little red he rubbed with his fingertips just now was drawing another "flower" on my shoulder.

MC: Of course, after all... this color suits me very well.

Lucien stared at me deeply, his gaze slowly sliding from my eyes to my lips.

In the drenched sunlight, he held my face and dropped a feather-like kiss on my lips. The soft touch feels like a kind of gentle comfort, which makes me fall into it bit by bit.

I closed my eyes and felt him pull my chin slightly. I opened my mouth slightly, and his breath quickly swept through my perception.

The jaw was clamped by him, and a slight pain melted into the hot breath, which made the kiss look a little eager.

I put my arms around the back of his neck and responded carefully, the pain quickly dissipated, and he asked for it even more with burning sensation.

The faint scent of rouge faints between the lips, I don't know if it comes from the lipstick on his lips or mine.

The shoulders were gradually clasped by him, and the cold air from the air conditioner came in through his fingers and was warmed by his palm.

Every skin that touches him is conveying pleasant sensations. I keep my eyes closed, but my eyes are full of brilliance.

The wet and rainy season that I have just spent alone is all illuminated by the snuggle at this time.

I don't know how long it took, the temperature on my lips slowly faded, I opened my eyes and saw a mess of rose red on Lucien's lips.

MC: Lucien, the lipstick--

Lucien: It's all spent.

We reached out to each other at the same time, trying to wipe off the fainted lipstick. But no matter how you rub it, it will leave a shallow trace.

We looked at each other in embarrassment and couldn't help laughing together.

MC: What to do.. am I ugly now?

Lucien: No, it's cute.

The eyes of the person in front of me are like water, and the sunlight seems to have washed away the complexities in these eyes, showing a bit of pure satisfaction.

Lucien embraced me again and stroked my hot cheek patiently.

Lucien: Any other wishes?

MC: There are a lot more, I feel I can't finish it for several days.

Lucien: It doesn't matter, I will be with you for many days.

Lucien: Those missing seasons, let us make up for it together

--

Notes from me: I can’t helped but giggling and crying over this date. The writer really gave us how Lucien’s feelings towards MC. They will loved each other for sure, with any circumstances ahead them. My wish just, please give them a happy moment like flying kite maybe? Anyway, thanks for visiting my blog and always reading Lucien’s date, and give him love~ xoxo

[hanibalistic]

FOR MY LOVE, SINCERELY, FOR YOU. | BANG CHAN, LEE MINHO, SEO CHANGBIN, HWANG HYUNJIN. 

genre | fluff, little angst, romance undertone, platonic relationship, royalty au

synopsis | you are a royal baker doubling as a love-letter mentor for the prince who is trying to court the neighbour princess, while his princely cousin slowly falls in love with you.

word count | 32k+

warning | violence (one scene), this is an unfinished piece so if you get attached then beware of unanswered plotline (this is a joke but just in case)

tag | @fluffyskzclub​

note | this was an unfinished piece abandoned in 2020, a rather big project i had. i am posting it here because i am unlikely to finish it anytime sooner (for one, i find it hard to replicate the writing style i utilized for this piece), but it felt like an injustice to let this piece dust away alone.

The smell of cream puffs wafted before your sensitive nose. You took a few sniffs, letting the luscious smell of sugar linger, then you smiled in satisfaction at the plate of dessert displayed before you on the kitchen table.

It was a big day for your dessert baking career. You were about to grant a full round table of royalty your newest recipe for the first time after so long of not being allowed to follow your own baking recipe in the palace kitchen.

After being appointed as a new palace baker amongst many other older cooks, with the promise that your father would receive top quality medical treatment back in your hometown, all you have baked were measly desserts made by following the head chef's recipe.

It all started with those little bake days you did at your mother’s flower shop, where you would prepare limited tray of one random dessert, a tasty little extra for the frequent customers and those who spend over a certain amount of money at the shop. Your mother didn’t like it the first time you did it, but considering how much your desserts have always helped boost the shop’s sales, she allowed you to hold these bake days occasionally.

You had baked your signature lemon tarts one morning, the crusty layer of bread circling around the gleaming, lemon filling, paired with a small tent of whip cream and a raspberry on top. It caught the king’s attention. 

You were unsure how that had happened but just about two days after the bake day, the court messenger dropped by and asked you to attend a meeting with the king, and the king had asked you to enter the palace kitchen so the royal family could enjoy your dessert every day.

However, unfortunately for the royal family, none of them have ever tasted your dessert before because of how strict the head chefs were about you utilizing your own cook book. No matter how many times you have attempted to sneak your own spin in those atrociously boring, mediocre steps of his, someone was always there to call you out on your ‘wrongdoings.’

It was beyond infuriating to know that the palace kitchen has more ingredients and more baking utensils than anywhere else in the kingdom, yet somehow, you were not allowed to bake according to your own cookbook because apparently, you were too young and too inexperienced to have your own desserts be presented to royalty.

Mind them old folks in the kitchen, but the sole reason why you were here, and the sole reason why the king was willing to bargain for your cooperation, was because he really, really, really loved the lemon tarts you baked for your mother’s flower shop. 

You wish you could tell the head chefs about it, but there was no way for you not to come off as conceited, and you doubted the adults would listen a mere teenager like you, so you stayed silent.  

But then the Lord shone through the clouds and gave you this opportunity to shine tonight! You have concocted a plan soon after you were told that you and another cook—Changbin, you remembered—would be in charge of making the dessert for this grand event. 

The neighbor royal families would be visiting for dinner so they could discuss the courtship of one of the princesses, meaning you would’t just be making dessert for one royal family but several others as well! And oh lord, the audacity of the pastry chef when he told you to follow the strawberry cake recipe weeks before the actual day, you really had to laugh.

There was nothing wrong with a plain strawberry cake. Simplicity can be best at times, but not with the recipe he gave you, never. Besides, you have already got another idea in mind about what dessert you could make: your newest recipe, crafted after you decided to take a bite of the dry rose petals in the royal garden—rosewater cream puffs!

Your rosewater cream puffs; made with soft and crispy bread baked with delight and care, pumped full of rich and fluffy cream fillings you crafted with sun-drowned water, ones you mixed together with the rose petals you picked from the forest nearby.

Now, of course, you would have never been able to bake your own dessert with the entire kitchen staff watching your back almost every step of the way. However, since they have appointed another chef with you this time so they could focus on their own dishes instead of worrying about you pulling weird stunts, you needn’t be as alert as you used to.

Besides, the angels were totally on your side when they have appointed Changbin out of every other chef in the kitchen. He may seem intimidating but, believe it or not, he was actually quite the gentleman. 

At least, from what you have experienced, was that he doesn’t bark at children like the others have done with you. Granted, you haven’t been the most obedient one, but even then, Changbin had been extremely patient with your rebellious retorts and dreamy rambles. And when you told him how you’ve got it all handled, he believed you and went ahead to help out the old gardening lady with the crops and livestock. 

"Now, lastly," you said as you grabbed the clean sifter next to you. You hung it on the edge of the table before you pulled at the corner of baking paper. You tugged it up and carefully poured the content into the sifter. “Some powered sugar and we are good to go!”

You would be serving eighteen cream puffs exactly for the eighteen royalties eating above you in the dining room, but aside from that, you have also made extras in anticipation of them asking for more. It was a habit—people have always asked for more of your desserts, they can never just have one piece.

However, if it turned out that your rosewater cream puffs were not of their liking, which could be possible due to this being an experimental recipe, then you would at least have extras left for when you need to make some changes later. Would you have hoped to ask for some constructive criticisms? Yes, but you doubted you’d be off the hook long enough to ask the royalties for it.

You were moving onto your fifth cream puff when the door to the baking room creaked open. Your arms froze for a second in alert, wondering who could possibly be behind you. Could it be the head chefs asking you for the progress? Could it be the maid already asking for the tray of dessert to be delivered? 

Either way, they end in your eventual demise, because not only were you not finished yet, you didn’t make the strawberry cake the pastry chef asked you to.

“Hey, [Name], how’s the cake going?” Changbin asked, taking off his gloves and hanging them on the handle bar nailed behind the wooden door. 

You breathed out a sigh of relief at his voice, your eyes closing and your heart slowing down to a resonable pace. Then you glanced down at the tray of cream puff before you, your brows furrowing with a curse after you did so. The sudden pause caused a tad of the powered sugar to go slightly off track; it would likely be unnoticeable to the royalties, but to you it was one hell of a problem.

Your lack of response worried Changbin. He raised a brow at you as he tied the apron around his waist, his fingers fumbling clumsily with tying the ribbon behind his back. Shifting his gaze to the wooden table, his brows gradually furrowed the more he took into account the ingredients gathered on top.

Milk, eggs, butter, sugar, flour. The normal things. Whisks, wooden bowls, spatulas, a… a sift? Dry rose petals, a bowl of pink-colored water, macaroon sheet template—oh no.  

“[Name], please tell me you made the strawberry cake like you were asked to–“ Changbin paused before the table, his eyes casting down at the little cream puffs with pastel pink fillings oozing out of the crusty bread tops, and he immediately gasped in horror. “Oh my god, you didn’t! You–kid, I swear! Chef Park is going to be furious about this!”

“I know,” you replied without much care, making your way to your sixth cream puffs carefully with the powered sugar in your hands. “Which is why I plan to hide it from him.”

“That isn’t the point, [Name],” Changbin exclaimed with curled fists. He stood awkwardly beside you, watching as you finished up with the tray with a content smile before turning to look at him. Gosh, he felt like he was talking to a brick wall; anyone who has tried to convince you to do as the head chefs say always feels like they are talking to a brick wall.

“What is the point?” You asked, dusting your hands off and wiping them on your apron without breaking eye contact with him. Then your attention left him so you could transfer the cream puffs to a steel plate.

“These are going into the king’s mouth, you know that right?” He said. “Not just our king, but other kingdoms’ as well. The only reason why you are instructed to use the house recipe is because���“

“Because none of you trust my ability to bake something good on my own,” you cut him off with a disappointed glare, one that made Changbin feel a sudden tumble of his heart. “Everyone here always think I’m going to mess up, that I am going to accidentally poison the king–“

“Hey, hey, hey!” Changbin raised his index finger in the air, his eyes were wide in alert as soon as you spilled those dangerous words. He looked around the baking room carefully before turning back to you with wide eyes. “I taught you before, none of those sayings inside the palace! You don’t want to get misunderstood and thrown in the dungeon, do you?”

“No,” you said, frowning as you turned to him then. “But my point still stands. None of you trust me to be a good baker and I really don’t like that.”

Changbin heaved a sigh. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the newbies that joined the kitchen staff, he had been too busy taking care of the royal farm that he barely went into the kitchen unless it was his shift to cook dinner. Heck, he didn’t even know you existed until he found you by the farm entrance with chef Park standing angrily next to you.

He could still remember that day. You had said something insulting to chef Park and he decided to take you out of the kitchen as punishment. You ended up having to take care of the farm with him for a full week, and oh, heavens, were you one grumpy kid. 

But you did change for the better after he took you to the orchard for some fruit picking, you were smelling and knocking the fruits like you knew what you were doing. And perhaps you did know what you were doing, he just never stopped to see if you did.

“I’m sure nobody thinks that. I know I don’t think that,” he said after a moment of silence. “We just don’t want you to mess up in here. You’re making food, [Name]. If any of them so much is get a stomachache then you’re done for.”

You arched your brows faintly in agreement. You hadn’t really considered that. Being a mere kitchen staff in the palace, and not an important one too, makes you very susceptible to the king’s irresponsible anger and his absolute power. You could die by the royalty’s hand with just a snap without ever getting a chance to fight for yourself. 

But it wasn’t like you were baking poison! The maids have told you all you needed to know about this damn family’s tastebuds and allergies as soon as you arrived, and you have got them all memorized already. You wouldn’t make such a trivial mistake!

“Excuse me! I’m here to collect the cake!”

Changbin met your eyes briefly. You could see the panic raising in those browns when you smiled mischievously at him. Then, before he could stop you, you turned to the table and grabbed a hold of the steel, dome plate cover. You cupped it over the cream puffs before holding it up carefully and approaching the maid standing by the door.

When she gave you a weird look, her judgemental gaze eyeing the plate, you gave her a playful wink and smiled. “The appearance is a surprise. Let’s spice up the dinner a little for the royals, huh?”

You took a side-step when you felt Changbin approaching. His chest bumped against your head as you perfectly blocked his path, and you could feel the heavy sigh he let out as he held up his arms in hopes to still stop the maid from leaving the baking room. You rolled your eyes then, annoyed at his stubbornness. 

“Look, Changbin,” you said as you turned around, “There is no strawberry cake here. And even though you don’t specialize in dessert, I’m sure you know you can’t make a good one under ten minutes, so why not just let the cream puffs go?”

He glanced down at you, his eyes ablaze with both exasperation and horror. Oh, whatever he should do now? If the pastry chef found out he didn’t monitor you after being told to, and you actually broke out of the house recipe and made something on your own for the dinner, both of you would surely be in big trouble! Not to mention he had no idea if the cream puffs were even edible at all!

Sure, they smelt nice when he entered the room. The aroma of the roses strong and eloquent, plus the light sprinkle of sugary scent mixing together with it just made it a whole lot better. But just because it smelt nice does not mean it would taste the same.

“We’re not gonna get into trouble,” you muttered after seeing his expression, the guilty finally hitting you as you watched Changbin pinch the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh. “Well… maybe not with the royal family, but I think chef Park might get a little mad.”

“You don’t say?” He rolled his eyes and let his arm drop to his side. Glancing away from you, he looked towards the table and widened his eyes at the extra cream puffs sitting on top of a wooden tray. A thought popped in his head and he held out his hand, his palm opened. “Let me try one.”

“Wh–what?” You looked at him, his words not processing through.

“I said let me try one,” he repeated, his hand moving in a beckoning motion urgently. “You already sent the cream puffs up, there is no point in me stopping the maid now, so might as well see if we’re only getting an earful or if we’re going to get a death sentence.” 

“They’re not going to die eating my desserts,” you retorted with a glare, not liking the way he phrased his thoughts.

Changbin heaved another sigh as he glanced away. You kept missing the point, it seemed; the problem didn’t lie in your dessert being good or bad, it was the fact that he didn’t know and he needed to try. But coming from somebody who kept having their skills undermined by others, it would make sense for that to be your initial response. 

“Can I please have one of your cream puffs, [Name]?” He asked again, more politely this time.

You stared at him for a while longer, your lips pursing as the guilt that previously surfaced in your chest magnified with the defeated look on his face.

Changbin had always looked so tired. His eyes are often sharp, but never without a tinge of unexplained wistfulness behind them that made them softer to look at. His arms are strong and scarred; some of the stories he told you about and some he kept hidden with a vague smile. His hands are rough and calloused from all the years of picking vegetables and rubbing metals, but they don’t lack tenderness when he pats your head at the end of the day.

He took care of you the most out of anybody else in the palace, albeit only meeting you a couple of weeks after you’ve suffered the wrath of the head chefs. And you have genuinely taken a liking to him because he has treated you well, therefore when times come when you’d realize you hadn’t exactly returned the favor to him, you would always feel bad. 

“Okay.” You gave him a curt nod before turning around to the table. You grabbed a small wooden plate from the corner and set it before you. Taking one of the extra creme puffs, you placed it on the plate before taking the sifter and lightly patting the powered sugar on top. 

You couldn’t stop it, though. You couldn’t stop being a brat in front of him, stubborn and rebellious, because you knew Changbin wouldn’t actually get mad at you for anything. And he just kept taking it, all your spontaneous antics and your informal retorts. 

He just takes them, with a lot of patience and understanding, as a parent would their child.

The burning in your chest was overwhelming. Ahh, you haven’t been able to act bratty in front of your dad in a long while now. Ever since he has fallen ill, you’ve only tried your best to take care of him. No more tantrums could be thrown and no more active jokes you could play on him anymore because of his weak heart.

There wasn’t anything terrible about that, for sure. You were more than happy to help nurse your father, but sometimes your childish mind just wanted to be spoiled by a father figure. Pretty sure everybody does once in a while. 

You slammed the sifter on the table, startling Changbin. Forcing a smile onto your face, you handed him the plate carefully. “Here, try it and tell me if you like it!” You said quickly, holding down the sudden wave of tears that was threatening the flow out. “Remember be honest!”

“When have I not been honest with you?” Changbin flipped your forehead with a frown just before he was about to take a giant bite of the cream puff. 

As you rubbed the spot with your hand and reached over to give his arm a harsh slap, he stumbled back with a faint laugh before grabbing ahold of the cream puff again. He held it before his mouth, the sweet smell of roses attacking his nose immediately, prompting him to take a bite of it. When he finally did, the powered sugar and the cream filling stained on his lips, his eyes widened in shock.

The cream filling was rich in its rosy taste, but it wasn’t so sweet that it would make your teeth sick. The sugar also managed to blend in very well with the naked taste of the crusty bread instead of overshadowing it, the two creating a well-crafted symphony on top of his tongue. 

“Oh, heavens–“ he paused to lick the cream off his lips, his brows furrowed as a moan of satisfaction left his lips while the cream melted instantly in his mouth. He glanced up at you then, his eyes simmering with surprise and, visibly, proudness. “Kid, did you make this by yourself?”

A glimmer of hope punched through your lungs at his response and you nodded, your hands curling into each other before your chest. “Yeah, I made those,” you said. “Do you like it?”

“Do I like it–please, I love it!” He exclaimed, sucking off the remaining cream on his fingers. “This is delicious, wow. Much, much better than a plain strawberry cake, I reckon.”

“I knew it!” You clapped your hands together in excitement, thrilled to see that Changbin has taken a liking to your baking. “Oh, I’m glad you liked it.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole table upstairs likes it too,” he commented with a short laugh as he set the wooden plate down on the table. He rubbed his hands on his pants, not bothering to grab a towel hung all the way at the back of the baking room. Looking at you, he tiled his head and asked, “Where did you learn to make that?”

“By myself!” You replied triumphantly. “It is years and years of experimenting with different ingredients! I did try a few different approaches with these rosewater cream, though. It is so easy for the filling to get too sweet if I so much as ground the petals the wrong way.”

Changbin leaned against the edge of the table, watching as you started to ramble on and on about your experience with creating this recipe. A proudness was born within his chest, spreading through his body with a rush as he watched you discuss what you had been trying to tell others was your ultimate passion. 

It was a shame that nobody ever listened simply because you were too young, perhaps things would change after tonight. 

“Hey, [Name],” he cut you off with a soft call, his hand reaching out for your head and giving you a few light pats. “Good job on the cream puffs.”

Your eyes widened a little, your voice falling mute at the tip of your tongue as you tried to think of something to say. You haven’t gotten a compliment on your baking in a while, not to mention this came a little too sudden for you to comprehend it fully. You just knew you were happy to hear it, especially from Changbin as well.

Before you could regain your voice and show him some gratitude, the door to the baking room burst open. You turned to look as Changbin spun around to look behind him. You grimaced at the newcomer, stepping back slightly at the bulging vein present on his forehead. 

Oh, chef Park was definitely angry about the dessert not being what he asked for. Judging by the look on his vein, and also that angry vein on his forehead, you were going to be in big trouble.

“What the hell were you thinking, [Name]?” He shoved past Changbin without giving him another glance, strutting straight towards you with an accusing finger. “You little brat, you can’t do one thing right, can you? I gave you a recipe, I told you to follow it, and you go ahead and serve… cream puffs? You serve them cream puffs?”

You stepped back when he got too close, your brows furrowing in discomfort as your heart raced in fear. As much as you hated to admit, chef Park’s authority scared you a little because of how much of a threat he could be. He could make your time in the palace a living hell, and there is no guarantee that you’d ever get out of here. You could be stuck with him until the day he dies!

“What’s wrong with cream puffs?” You asked daringly despite being afraid. It seemed that your annoyance was overriding fright in your chest.

“There is nothing wrong with cream puffs, what is wrong is that I don’t know how you made them,” he pointed out. “God, who knows what kind of atrocity you made? You better be the one to take the blame because I am not having my career be destroyed by a fucking seventeen-year-old!”

You scoffed out a laugh, your eyes rolling to the side condescendingly before you turned back to look at him. “You’re one to talk, chef Park,” you retorted, curling your hands at your side. “Serving a strawberry cake is too plain for this occasion. Not to mention your recipe is boring–“

You gasped when you felt a hand swipe across your cheek. Your hand instinctively went up to cover the spot where you got slapped, your eyes wide with shocked tears as you turned back to look at the man in front of you. He didn’t seem fazed, he seemed rather neutral about it, like he had planned to do that all along, and it made you want to wipe that shit-eating smirk off his face.

“Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Changbin stormed over to your side before you could properly react, a hand grabbing on the chef’s shoulder and shoving him backward. “[Name]’s just a kid, can’t you act a little civil with them?”

“Jesus, Changbin, don’t be so soft,” chef Park said, rolling his eyes. “They’re old enough to know they shouldn’t disrespect elders.”

“And you’re old enough to know that violence doesn’t solve anything,” Changbin pressed on, his voice almost coming out as a growl as he held himself back from punching the man right in the jaw. “With all due respect, chef, but you need to grow the hell up.”

The man relaxed a little then, his eyes squinting as he stared at Changbin in contemplation. Your heart jumped at his calculative gaze, now more scared for him than you were scared for yourself. Changbin didn’t have to do that, he should have just stayed quiet at the back and let you take all of it alone. Now you’ve got him mixed in the mess you made too.

“Changbin, need I remind you my position is a head above yours?” Chef Park said, his tone more obnoxious and patronizing than anything you have ever heard. Not even the king spoke to you like this when he was bargaining for you to stay as a baker in the palace, how was it his turn to speak like that?

Changbin glared at him, his tongue tied and his head unsure of what he could say. He knew if he says anything more, he would be done. His stay in the palace would most likely be over with just a single report from the chef, and all the years of him earning his trust would go to waste.

Perhaps he should have thought through this twice before he acted out, but seeing you get slapped across the face so unreasonably had stirred a fire within him. He was angry, genuinely angry, for the first time in a long time, and he didn’t care what would happen to him. He just knew if that fucker thinks he can lay his hands on you then he’s got anther thing coming at him.

This altercation was, thankfully, interrupted with a timid knock on the door. Chef Park looked behind his shoulders in annoyance before he spun and headed for the door. You watched his back, your lips finally loosening up and quirking down because of how upset you were. And, upon this distraction, Changbin immediately turned around to check up you.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, the back of his hand delicately running down your red cheek.

You nodded as you moved away slightly, your eyes squeezing together in faint irritation.

Reaching up to grab his hand, you held onto his pinky and ring finger before letting your arm fall to your side. Your eyes were squinted when you faced ahead, your lips pursed into a forced smile as you said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Changbin looked at you, his eyes shifting across your features and landing on your red cheek. Looking at it made him sad, and the story behind made his anger fume, but even then he listened to you. With a small nod of agreement, he looked away from you and at the opened door where chef Park stood talking to a maid.

He acted strangely, you found out. The second the door was opened, his face dropped and a smile immediately made its way to his face. A fake smile, you could tell, because that man has probably never genuinely smiled once in his life. He was talking lightly, his eyes shifting at the maid and behind her rapidly as if he was seeing a ghost. 

After a moment, he finally took a gentle step back and gestured towards you. You shivered—what was it now? Have the guards came to arrest you for poisoning a whole table of royalties? Have you made the worst dessert to ever be created in mankind that the king felt the need to come down to the kitchen himself, just so he could criticize you?

It was none of those, apparently. Waltzing into the room were three people, two boys and one girl. 

The girl wore an expensive ball gown dress, the light pink mesh material sewed of blossom petals on top as they flowed over the thick fabric underneath. Her top was off-shoulders, exposing her pretty bone structure adorned by a piece of bright jewel necklace. 

If those weren’t indication enough that she was the princess being courted for, then the tiara decorating her pretty little head would be.

Standing behind her was two boys. You knew one of them, he was the prince—your prince, as a matter of fact. Lee Minho; with big, glimmering eyes and a well-defined nose, and with lips that curl into the greatest cherry smile that never failed to woo another’s heart. He was an undeniably gorgeous man, you’d say. 

You have only seen him when you were lurking in the shadows with trays and buckets. You didn’t care for him much.

Standing next to him was someone you’ve met once before, as in an actual encounter where a conversation was held. That was Hwang Hyunjin, Minho’s close cousin who always came to visit as if he didn’t have his own extravagant garden to run around in. And whenever he came over to stay, he would usually stay for a whole month before his departure. 

You two met under an unforeseen situation. It was exceptionally bright that morning, the sun blazing a heated trail on the flowers in the royal garden. The flying insects all came around to rest among the bushes, hiding away in the flower buds and collecting pollens. It was a sunny morning that day, and Hyunjin decided he could go for a walk alone before the scheduled horse-riding session with Minho.

You were told to collect some fruits in the orchard so the baking team could make the desired dessert for the evening, a step you assumed would be the only one you’d be asked to take part in because you had pissed off chef Park once again. 

But, instead of heading straight to the orchard as you were told to, you took a sharp turn outside the back entrance of the kitchen and headed straight for the royal garden with your vine basket. You were trying out a new recipe during that time, the blackberry lavender cake. 

It wasn’t anything special, per se, so you were hoping you could add your own spin to it and see if you could make one that could be easily differentiated amongst all the other ones. That was one of the importance of making desserts: always make sure you incorporate your own style in the taste, let people know they’re eating your food.

You had planned to find some fully-bloomed lavender in the garden first, then you would head to the orchard and find yourself some blackberries. After you’ve collected what you needed, you would set out and get whatever the chef asked you to get.

You didn’t even know Hyunjin was in the garden before you heard him yell from faraway. When you approached close enough, you almost burst into laughter at how he was panicking over a butterfly flying around his perimeter. His arms had flailed about the air, not wanting to hurt the butterfly but still wanting to keep it as far away as possible.

It didn’t register to you that he was a prince at first, even with his velvet suit and jewel-filled fingers. All you knew was that he was a stranger yelling at the top of his lungs, in early morning, because he was afraid of a damn butterfly. 

Without thinking much, you had approached him from behind and touched him with your hands, steadying his movements as you carefully lured the butterfly over with your finger. It landed peacefully on top, its wings halting to a slow stop. Hyunjin had moved away from by then, and when he finally looked at you with a clearer sight, he immediacy swooned (inside his heart, obviously).

How could he not? A butterfly was sitting on top of your finger, the breeze was blowing gently against your hair, and the sun was shining down your eyes with its satisfying lights—you were completely engulfed by the beauty of nature, the delight of a new morning, and he thought he has never seen anybody more beautiful. 

“It is just a butterfly, Your Highness,” you had told him, with a gentle smile that showed a hint of playfulness in them as you set the creature free. You held your vine basket close to your waist and spoke, “There is no need to act with haste.”

With that, you left him both bewildered and bewitched at the heels of your feet. All he could really do was stare at your back as you left, his infatuation a foreign feeling he didn’t understand. He has seen so many princes and princess in royal balls before, all dolled up and styled with glitter, but none of them has ever struck his liking as much as you did.

And you had managed that with such a simple attire under a dirty apron, a head of messy hair, and an unbothered demeanour. 

Hyunjin could remember you vividly, even as he stood behind his friends in the small baking room where it was dimmer and confined. He hasn’t really stopped thinking about you after that morning, and he hoped that you remembered him as well, even if he was just the weird boy you met in the garden once.

“Good evening, chefs,” the princess spoke first, taking a small step towards you and Changbin with her silk gloved hands clapped together before her chest. 

Almost immediately, despite the bafflement Changbin was feeling, he dipped his head and bowed with a polite greeting. Glancing to the side where you stood, his brows furrowed when he saw that you haven’t moved an inch, and he quickly reached his hand up to press against the back of your head and made you bow with him.

“Get yourself together, Princess Rose is here,” he whispered to you quietly, hoping to god nobody could make out what he was saying.

You hummed faintly, pleasantly surprised that her name matched with the dessert you made. Then, with a reassuring glare, Changbin finally allowed you to stand back up straight by loosening his grip against your head. You dusted your hands off on your apron as you flashed Changbin a faint glare, then you smiled at the three royalties standing before you.

It was a rare sight you dreaded to see, simply because how much of a hassle it could be to meet royalties. 

You habitually waited for the princess to speak first.

“I was just upstairs eating a full and delicious meal prepared by the amazing cooks in this kitchen,” she said, giving Changbin a nod of acknowledgement as a slow smile crept up her face,“but, what I am very surprised by was the cream puffs served at the end of dinner! And I just had to come down here personally and ask for the baker behind those cream puffs!”

You stared at her. Well, she said all of those, but she still hasn’t asked you for your name yet. She only said she needed to ask, she hasn’t actually asked yet, therefore you wasn’t sure if you should reveal yourself or wait a little while for her to finally break the question out to you. 

Her eyes scanned past Changbin to you, and they brightened. Walking forward, her curls bouncing against her shoulders in the lightness of her steps, she smiled at you and asked, “Did you make those cream puffs?”

“Yes, I did, Your Highness,” you said, her sheer excitement spreading to you and causing you to relax. You gently let your guard down, your shoulders slumping as your hands met each other in front of your tummy. 

“Oh! How wonderful!” She beamed at you, “I absolutely loved the cream puffs, were they made with roses?”

“Rose petals, yes!” You replied, almost as enthusiastic as she was now that you were prompted to talk about your dessert. Many people have lent you compliments before, but none has ever stopped to ask you more about them. This was certainly a first. “I ground the petals up and mixed them in with water before adding them to the dry ingredients, it gives the cream filling that rosy taste to it!”

“Wow, that sounds like hard work!” She nodded in approval, her brows raising and her eyes widening to give you a look of affirmation.

You blinked your eyes rapidly. Oh? That was quite an unexpected reaction. Not so much what she said, though. People have told you the same things before; about how difficult it must be to come up with your own baking style, and to actually gather the ingredients so you could start making a dessert. 

It was the way she said it. It sounded something more like a validation than a judgement. It wasn’t “oh god, I will never be able to do this,” instead it was more of a “oh, it is so cool that you can do this!”

And it was hard work! You had to ground the petals for a certain amount of time and with a precisely calculated amount of strength. Your arms were already aching a minute into having to hold the wooden bowl at a forty five degree angle, all the while mashing out the rose juices with the rounded tip at the back of a spoon.

To hear another act so nicely toward your passion was, needless to say, refreshing. Besides, you would see the painful way chef Parker was scrunching his face at the back, wanting so badly to deflect Princess Rose’s words but unable to for many different reasons.

You have never met her before, but if Prince Minho does end up wedding her and she marries into this kingdom, you have not a single problem accepting her as your queen.

“You surely flatter me,” you said as you dipped your head at her politely, a proud smile adorning your lips. “But all the hellish process is all worth it if it meant earning your lovely approval, Your Highness.”

Changbin held back a snort, his head lowering in hopes to hide an eye-roll. What pretentious words you were spilling out of your mouth! You have never spoken to him that way before, he was sure you have never spoken to any other palace staff that way before despite most of them being well older than you. 

If you could just add a hint of respect in the way you normally act, you would be so popular among everybody.

Minho’s eyes had been focused on the curls of Princess Rose’s hair the entire time, something about the way they waved made his heart flutter. He was that much infatuated with the girl he was supposed to compete the affection for among five other capable candidates. But for a moment, he allowed himself to remove his attention from her and instead, onto you.

He has never seen you around before, unsurprisingly. But he didn’t know the palace recruited kitchen staff as young as you. He couldn’t pinpoint your exact age but he could tell you hadn’t lived a day past nineteen, with your acne skin but youthful features, your badly kept but a headful of hair, and your small but invigorating body frame.

You weren’t pretty, but you were youthful. Looking at you made him feel nostalgic, it made him long for the days of his younger years when he didn’t have the pressure of the throne weighted on his shoulders. Now he’s got even more stress because of the courting selection process, his mind filled with concerns about his love not being reciprocated and having Princess Rose be engaged to another. 

How Minho wished he could go back when things were less complicated, when he was free to do anything he so pleased. He should have learned how to bake a cake, but that activity have always been looked down upon by royals. He doesn’t bake cakes, he only eats them.

“I was hoping you would have some extra cream puffs left to spare, chef!” Princess Rose asked, her brows furrowing slightly as she tilted her head. “The plates were all licked clean because of how good they are, and I wasn’t able to get an extra. I was hoping someone would spare one for me.”

You raised a brow at the way Minho tensed up behind her. There were three things you noticed from that single movement. 

One, Minho messed up his first test in the courting process by not giving up his own cream puff. But, judging by what she told you, nobody else did either, so that should not cause too much damage to his romantic health bar yet. 

Two, Hyunjin wasn’t paying attention this whole time. His eyes were dazed but focused somehow, and you were unsure what he was focused on because as soon as you tried to catch his eyes, he looked away with a clearing of his throat. His plump lips pursed together as he eyed Minho, who looked at him with mild concern, before he dared to return his gaze on you.

He did it discreetly that time, not so much straightforwardly staring at you, and he could only slowly ease back into the longing stare when he found that your attention had reverted to Princess Rose again.

Three, Minho cared more about Princess Rose than Hyunjin did. That could just be a false assumption, though, from the way Hyunjin did’t react at all to her words while Minho did such a dramatic flinch.

Whatever it was, you hoped all the best for Minho. Both because you were quite fond of the princess and because you’d love for her to find true love.

Smiling, you gave her a nod and stepped aside to gesture toward the table. The ingredients were still presented on the table, but you knew she had overlooked all the utensils and sped her eyes straight to the tray of rosy pink cream puffs. 

“How many of them would you like, Your Highness?” You asked, moving closer to the edge of the table and grabbing the sifter in your hand, prepared to add the powered sugar to the remaining cream puffs.

“Let’s see…” she hummed, her body moving swiftly in anticipation but you could tell from the way she was curling her firsts that she was still trying to maintain her image, “I would like three more, please!”

“Not a problem, Your Highness.” You flashed her a smile before your eyes looked behind her shoulders at the two princes. You raised your brows, your head tilting to the side as you threw caution to the wind for a brief moment to speak casually. “And the two princes standing behind Her Highness? Would you two like some extra cream puffs too?”

Startled at your sudden question, Minho nodded with his eyes darting around your vicinity. He did remember liking it, perhaps not as expressively as most of the others did, but he did adore the rosy taste of the filling. It was sweet, a very darling contrast to the actual meal he had.

“Yes, I would like one, please,” he requested, his voice smaller than it needed to be with you. 

Hyunjin, unlike his cousin, was quick to jump on the enthusiastic train after Minho’s voice dropped. He clenched his hands together behind his back, his eyes lighting up at the chance to speak to you again, and when he spoke, his voice was unsettlingly formal and an octave lower than usual.

“I would like to have the rest of the cream puffs, please,” Hyunjin said, giving you a charming smile. 

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes widening awkwardly at the way he seemed like he was anticipating something from you. But since you had no idea what he was thinking of, you only gave him a quick nod and returned to work on the cream puffs.

During the meantime, Minho took the chance to nudge his cousin in the ribs so to catch his attention. When Hyunjin glanced to the side at him, he flashed him a playful glare and a gradually blossoming smile. It was a wordless way for him to ask Hyunjin what in the fresh hell was that sudden attitude change he did to you?

Hyunjin shrugged, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “What?”

“You’re acting weird,” Minho replied lowly. “Why are you suddenly talking like an adult?”

“I am? Heavens, I did not notice, truly,” Hyunjin said, placing a hand over his heart. “I have always talked like this.”

“Stop lying, I have known you for years,” Minho hissed out. “You have never used that voice before unless you are trying to appeal to somebody!”

Changbin moved his body so his back faced the three royalties. Pretending to look over you pouring powered sugar on the dessert, he finally allowed himself a moment of rest and rolled his eyes freely. Did the two princes just assume everyone in the room was deaf or did they overestimate their ability to whisper? 

He, and you, and possibly Princess Rose and chef Park, could hear their conversation clearly anyway. There was no need to whisper like that. It made them look stupid.

“Sorry to interrupt your lively discussion, Your Highnesses, but here are the cream puffs you asked for,” you said as you turned to them, your hands full with the cream puffs.

You gave the single one, supported by a baking parchment paper, to Minho first. Then you handed Princess Rose a smaller wooden tray of cream puffs, smiling faintly when she gleamed at the dessert in her hands. Lastly, you turned to Hyunjin and handed him the remaining of the cream puffs on a rectangular tray. He smiled at you, you politely returned it.

“Thank you so much!” Princess Rose beamed, holding the tray in her little hands like it was one of her many tiaras. She looked up at you, her eyes sparkling in a way that made you sweat; it was too cheerful and too jumpy for you. “Ah, I am so glad that you chose to make this. And of course, credits to chef Park for appointing you this position, I wouldn’t have had the chance to taste this if he hadn’t.”

You caught your lower lip between your teeth, your cheeks jutting out uncontrollably when chef Park was forced to give the joyful princess a smile, seemingly all in agreement to what she said. He must be furious, having his opinion denied by a royalty in such an energetic way after he just slapped you for defying him. 

It wasn’t the best revenge, but it was good enough and amusing to watch from the side. 

When you caught Changbin’s eyes, you found that he was trying his best to hold in a bright smile. His eyes widened at you and his head tilted to gesture towards the awkward man by the door, fumbling to keep up with the chatty princess. You could only giggle under your breath, pulling a face before allowing a smile to fully appear on your face.

Hyunjin clenched the edge of the tray unconsciously, his eyes once again lingered on your grin. He couldn’t hear your laugh, it must have been feathery light, and for once he despised the outdated rule of servants not being able to act freely around royalties. He wanted to hear it, he wanted to hear you laugh. 

How were you doing this to him? His heart a pitter-pattering mess as he looked at your mundane features, not at all like himself or the princess in this room, yet his cheeks flush at the mere sight of you ever sine that morning in the garden. It seemed to have gotten worse now that he learned how good of a baker you are. 

Delicious food and a naturally endearing face? Oh god, how could Hyunjin ever handle this.

“Hyunjin? Let’s go, mother might be wondering where we are.”

The boy snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Minho, his eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to a new face. When he did, all he could find was Minho smirking at him with a somewhat understanding look before turning to look at your direction.

He followed his eyes, your frame coming into sight then. You weren’t paying much attention to them anymore since they didn’t ask you for anything else. Instead, you had turned to clean up with table with Changbin’s help, lecturing him to gather certain utensils and dumping them at the sink. Removing his eyes from you, he looked at Minho again and he frowned.

“What?” He asked, shrugging.

Minho stared at him for a moment, wondering if he had caught onto the wrong idea. He swore that Hyunjin was staring at you, in the way Princess Rose was looking at those cream puffs and in the way he used to look at her—filled with infatuation and longing curiosity. It was a terrible crush. 

Hyunjin could be denying it, but he could also be assuming things wrong. He couldn’t tell for now, so instead of pushing into the matter, he only patted Hyunjin on the shoulder and turned away to find Princess Rose. He left Hyunjin standing there, confused and frustrated at his own confusion, wondering what Minho meant with that knowing smirk of his.

With his mind filled, Hyunjin tilted his head to the side with mumbles escaping his lips. He spun around after sparking you one last glance, opting to reach for the rosewater cream puffs and popping one into his mouth. The sugary taste engulfed him in a loose but warm hug, and he felt giddy all over knowing that you were behind these sweet little puffs.

The baking room was reduced to silence again after the three royalties left, the only sounds that resonated in the room was from the water faucet and the cashing of baking utensils. You and Changbin have both shut your mouths as well, realizing that chef Park was the only authority still standing around.

His posture was rigid, and it wasn’t solely because his bones were getting older and older by day. He was proven wrong straight to your face, immediately after he belittled you so harshly that the staffs outside could have surely heard him. He knew he wouldn’t tell a soul about what Princess Rose said tonight to save face, but in a way he’s already been humiliated enough.

The last person he didn’t want knowing that the princes and princess liked those cream puffs was you, and you had been present through the entire event.

You wiped your wet hands on the towel, drying your skin roughly before looking back up at chef Park. Your eyes were dull, bored even, but the way you smiled showed triumph, and he hated it. That shit-eating expression of yours could go straight to Hell if he could control it. 

Damn brat, just because the princess liked your dessert now you suddenly think you’re all that, huh?

“You better not be expecting a compliment,” chef Park spoke first, glaring at you. “Like it or not, the main problem doesn’t lie in whether the dessert is good. It is the fact that you can’t follow instructions.”

What a liar. He barely mentioned one thing about you not following his recipe. It was all about your baking being terrible and him losing his career. Seeing that your cream puffs were fine and that you actually do have skills lined up your sleeves, he suddenly turned a blind eye to it and switched the topic he was mad about.

Chef Park couldn’t hide that obvious grunge he held against you for the life of it. He would find something to get mad at you for no matter what, and frankly, it has made your days in the palace a living hell. If it wasn’t for the good companions you’ve met around this place, and your daily mischief where you would bake instead of finishing tasks, you’d be miserable.

“You won’t be cooking for the next week, take that as a light punishment for breaking my rules,” he huffed with an eye-roll, holding a hand up when you glared at him and tried to talk back. “You won’t get out of it, [Name]. I’ll only extend the days the more you try to talk yourself out of it.”

You pursed your lips together and stayed silent, your nails digging into the heel of your palm as you forced your words to fall dead at your tongue. 

He was right; since he has the authority over you, no matter how much you try to appeal to the situation, you wouldn’t succeed. He hates you, plain and simple, and if he wanted you out of the kitchen, he’ll do it. The only thing he couldn’t actually do was get you kicked out of the palace entirely. 

That would be up to the palace butler, and lord, did chef Park hated that thorough bastard. Chan probably wouldn’t kick you out for the world considering his keen senses on detecting a false or angry report. He could see straight past chef Park’s bullshit with just a snap of his fingers,

Besides, Chan have always had soft spots for the younger palace staffs, even more for you since you were the youngest one. Acting like he was your blood brother, that nosy fucker. Let him find out what chef Park did to your pretty little face and he would be done for, which was the sole reason why he got you out of the kitchen and into maid duty. 

If you stay outside the palace, you stay away from the butler. You didn’t know Chan has that kind of authority amongst the staffs yet, but he wasn’t planning on running that risk of you blabbering about what happened.

“Have fun doing laundry, [Name],” chef Park said with malice laced all over his voice, then he pushed open the door and left.

Your shoulders slumped when he was gone, your eyes as sharp as kitchen knifes watching him leave. You wanted to explode, you wanted to scream at him for giving you another week out of the kitchen again. Another week of cleaning bedsheets and folding expensive clothes, another week of doing chores alone because you still haven’t made any maid friends, another week of sneaking into the kitchen at night just to bake something easy because you missed it so much.

You hated life here, you should have never agreed to coming here. You should have pulled the age card, telling the king that you wanted a few more years at home before entering the palace, that would have probably been a good enough reason to shoot him down. But coming here means medical treatment for your father. And even if you could say no to the king, you could not deny his wealth. 

“He kicked me out again!” You whined as you turned around to look at Changbin, your feet stomping against the floor childishly. There were almost tears in your eyes, but you didn’t feel like crying so you simply started to throw a tantrum. “What is his problem with me? I swear, he never liked me! He’s only been against me since day one!”

“You did tell him his recipe is boring, multiple times too,” Changbin pointed out as he placed the last clean bowl on the kitchen counter before moving away from the sink. He dried his hands on the apron, his brows furrowing slightly as you frowned at him in disapproval. 

“That’s because it is!” You exclaimed a retort.

“You do realize he became the pastry chef for a reason, right?” He reasoned, “How can he get to where he is with boring recipes.”

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right words to retort but slowly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was absolutely correct, and you have been extremely biased in your opinions. While you didn’t really think his recipes are boring, just very general steps for good ingredients, you only kept saying so because you hated him and he was being unfair to you.

You didn’t mean it half the time, but those words probably still hurt his dignity.

“Are you on my side or his, Changbin?” You asked lowly, squinting your eyes at him with a grimace.

Changbin laughed. He approached you and placed a hand on top of your head. His smile was graceful but lacking a lot in sincerity this time. It was meant to be more  playful than heartfelt, you knew, a smile that told you not to take him seriously from this point on because he was joking around. 

“I’m obviously on your side,” he muttered with not an ounce of strength in his voice, causing you to kick his ankles lightly. He laughed, loudly this time with his voice full. “No, seriously, kid. I am.”

You looked up at him, your chest habitually warm as he patted your head. It was a silent form of praise, you learned that from your mother constantly doing it to you when you were much younger. Now that she couldn’t be with you as much anymore, Changbin took it upon himself to give you the parental encouragements you needed as a youngster. And on rare occasion when you do see Chan, he’d ruffle your hair up as well. 

Now that you think more clearly about it, without the previous anger blinding your emotions, perhaps you didn’t hate the palace life all that much. If everyone could be just like Changbin and Chan then this place would be paradise on Earth. But, as you learned, your average person could not be as capable as Chan nor as friendly as Changbin, and that was really unfortunate.

“I know,” you said, nodding at him.

“You just can’t say thank you to people for once, can you?” Changbin asked, removing his hand from your head after shoving the side of  it slightly.

“I will when you’ve done something good.” You shrugged with a smile.

“What-“ he huffed, his lips quirking up into an incredulous smile as his eyes widened in a faint glare. “When have I ever done wrong by you, huh?”

“If I tell you then there is no point,” you hummed as you turned around, leaving his side for the hanger nailed to the wall by the door. You untied the knot behind you, releasing it with a swift pull, then you looped the apron out of your neck and hung it back on the knob. “When you did something wrong, sometimes it’s better to realize it yourself.”

“That’s not good communication,” Changbin mumbled under his breath, following your action. He looked at you then, his eyes rolling back for a moment as he shook his head at you, completely defeated by you. “But sure, I will apologize when I find out what I did wrong.”

You only grinned, the childish gleam in your eyes haunting him as he bid you goodnight and urged you to head to bed early. Then he left the baking room, his voice booming from outside as he called for someone in the main kitchen. Your grin dropped quickly, eyes blinking as you shifted your weight and pressed a hand to your cheek in the midst of your mindless thoughts.

Sometimes you just stare into space because you could, because your feelings need a permanent image to gather itself together for the better. One need not to always be thinking about something, sometimes your eyes settle and your mind simply register the colors, the object, never the meaning, and that would be enough thinking already. 

But your mind bounced out of the headless state today when your eyes caught sight of a peculiar piece of paper stuck on the edge of the table corner, hidden underneath the counter shelf with only its tip peaking out. Your brows furrowed at the wavering object and you moved towards it slowly.

Leaning down, you pulled the piece of paper out from underneath. It was a thick parchment paper, with faint red linings printed on it that matched the redness of the wax seal stamped in the middle of the envelope. The symbol of the king’s crown was intricate and detailed, you stared at it carefully in hopes to have it memorized, wondering if you could ever redraw it using frostings.

You looked up after you finished admiring the wax seal. This could not have been a letter written by any kitchen staff. The royal seal is only available to royalties, therefore one of the three that just came by the room must have dropped it without knowing. 

Curiously, you flipped the envelope around in hopes to find who the letter was addressed to. Dusting off the dirty stuck to the paper, your eyes finally registered the name written prettily on top of the paper, with a spot of spilled black ink next to the cursive name.

To Princess Rose, with love.

A love letter, but from who?

You hummed at it as you flipped it around again, your eyes fixed on the wax seal in the middle. You could always just stick it back if you peel it off, or you could just lie about the wax seal falling off after you tried to get rid of the dirt underneath the counter table. That way you could not only find out who wrote the letter, but you could also read the content.

Your fingers hovered over the red seal for a short moment, then you carefully peeled it off.

Hyunjin had finally returned into the palace from the garden. Right after wrapping up dinner time with the rest of the royal families and seeing them off in their gold carriages, he took the tray of rosewater cream puffs from a maid and headed straight for the garden. 

He wanted to enjoy the dessert at the stone pavilion that stood tall behind the water fountain, surrounded by wall shrubs with white flowers growing along it. The peace and quiet covering that corner of the garden had always calmed his mind, and the moonlight cascading on the rolling water flowed as freely as his mind could as it filled itself with the thought of you. 

Those cream puffs were as amazing as he remembered first trying it, and he seemed to like it even more now that he knew you were the one who made them. How unfathomable, he had no idea your hands could wove ingredients into such magnificence. As if you weren’t appealing enough already, catching his eyes and stealing his attention. Now you have caught your way to his tummy as well.

Hyunjin was able to finish the cream puffs quickly, much fortunately because not a second later he had heard the sound of Princess Rose giggling down the path to the pavilion. He almost groaned at her voice, his brows furrowing in exhaustion just from hearing it. If it wasn’t for the sugar in his mouth, he possibly would have cursed out loud.

It wasn’t that he hated Princess Rose, absolutely not. She was a very nice lady; she was pretty, very positive, has an elegant upbringing, and needless to mention, an actual royalty. He could see all her good sides and he understood why most princes would be attracted to her, including Minho, but sadly, he just wasn’t one of them. 

No matter how many times he had to pretend he was okay with joining the court selection, no matter how much his parents were anticipating his victory in this romantic race, he just could not bring himself to feel anything special for her. And it has been so difficult for him to pretend to be in love with her when he already has his crush on you occupying his mind on a daily, so difficult that he’d be happy to never see the princess again.

Turning his head, he wiped the powered sugar off his lips and proceeded to dust his hand off on his pants. He got ready to face the princess, prepared to strike up a conversation and offer to walk her back into the palace (hopefully, or else he’d have to walk her around the garden and he really did not want to do that) when Minho came out of the shadowy corner with her.

They were chatting happily. Minho’s posture was relaxed but Hyunjin knew his fingers were twitching rigidly behind his back, while Princess Rose was being simply herself, a beaming girl excited to drown under the moonlight with a beautiful man. 

Hyunjin breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight, knowing that those two were probably out to have some alone time with each other and Minho would definitely not welcome him to join. He discreetly tried to waltz his way out of their path, sneaking into shadows and hiding behind stone columns wrapped around in vines, and he only relaxed after he reentered the palace. 

His mind lingered at the sight back in the garden for a moment, his lips quirking up funnily when it hit him that Minho was making a move in trying to appeal to her more. Oh, he surely hoped his cousin wins her hand in marriage. Minho has been in love with Princess Rose since their childhood days, an affection she was far too oblivious to sense even within close quarters. 

Surely, this courting period would jolt her right out of it. Those love letters Minho would be writing to her would be one of a kind.

“Oh–good evening, Your Highness.”

Gasps! Hyunjin could recognize that voice anywhere, it was practically engraved in his brain.

Turning slowly to you, who he saw out of his peripheral vision, the muscles under that velvet blazer tensed up and his lips widened into a suspiciously big smile. His eyes darted around for a moment, finding out that he hadn’t stumbled into the kitchen but instead you had come out of the palace library. 

Thank god, he hasn’t lost his mind completely yet. Mindlessly bringing himself to the kitchen would totally prove that. But judging by his increasing heart beat, he was probably close to reaching that point now. 

“Good evening… uhh, chef!” He greeted back, waving absentmindedly.

“Did you just return from the garden, Your Highness?” You asked then, clutching your hands behind your back where the lost letter was held. When he gave you a questioning look, you reached on hand up to your head and tapped at it. You whispered, almost a hiss, “There is a leaf stuck in you hair.” 

“Oh! Oh, right, of course!” He quickly reached his hands up to pick at his locks, hoping to find the leaf you were talking about. When his fingers couldn’t grasp anything dry, because the leaf has already fallen out with his exaggerated movements, he opted to ruffle his brown locks altogether. 

Your smile dropped slightly at his choice of action. It was sudden, but it was just like the way he had swatted at that butterfly that day. A little clumsy and overall, hilarious to watch. But since you weren’t supposed to laugh at royalties, you had to keep your lips sealed up and put on a bland face in order to not break down in giggles in front of him.

Hyunjin, sadly, had taken your neutral expression too seriously and started to panic a little. What did that mean? Why did you stop smiling at him? Was he acting weird? Yes, he was acting weird! He must be acting weird! That’s not good! Oh no, Hyunjin, pull yourself together! 

He quickly cleared his throat as he pulled at the hem of his blazer and stood up straight, his shoes meeting each others’ heel. His smile didn’t fade, it only became more charming than skeptical, and his dimple showed from the way his lips quirked. It was like he did a personality turn in a mere one second, and suddenly he felt like an actual prince again.

“Sorry about that. I just finished your cream puffs and I think I might be having a sugar rush,” he said, a casual huff in his voice. 

“Oh,” you laughed out then, clapping your hands together soundlessly, “I see. Well, it’s never too bad to get that kind of rush once in a while, they aren’t too harmful.”

“Your sweets are too delicious to be harmful, chef,” he replied, almost flirtatiously if you weren’t so dense to believe that he would never try to flirt with you. But even then, you giggled at his words simply because he kept calling you by a title you haven’t received yet but hoped to in the future, and that made his heart all excited and happy.

“Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness,” you said with a polite dip of your head. 

“Yeah, of course, you deserve it! They’re really good!” He gave you several enthusiastic nods of approval, his eyes widening in emphasis that he meant his words more than he has ever meant anything else in his life. 

And you could only thank him again, much more meekly this time due to the sudden step he made towards you. He smelt of sweat, possibly from the heat outside the garden and how he had to wear such thick fabrics under that weather, but you could hardly concentrate on that when he body stood so close and he was all up in your face about it. 

Hyunjin was such a pretty man. You couldn’t believe you have never stopped to appreciate his features in your own time, even if you two have only met each other thrice by now. The whispers and coos shared between the palace maids, starting from the swoons from the younger ones to the motherly praises of the older ones, weren’t just here for show, you realized.

His eyes were surely a brilliant shad of brown, reminding you of the perfect brownies you have once baked for the neighbours’ kids. Looking into them reminded you of their innocent giggles, it made your heart swell in nostalgia. 

And his prettily plump lips made his smile magnificently bright, shaping his face perfectly like colouful frosting fitting perfectly into the surface of a cotton cake. It feels satisfying to watch and such a serotonin boost, much like that vanilla cotton cake you baked for your father’s birthday. 

You smiled even more fondly at him then, remembering the warmth of your hometown and letting your heart lean into the longing. It only made you smile; sometimes sadness displays itself in the form of a smile, you thought that meant you are slowly embracing the fact that you’re getting over it. 

After allowing himself a moment to watch you in silence, because it seemed you were also doing the same, Hyunjin finally broke the moment by faking a cough. When he caught your attention, he pointed behind you at the big double doors and asked, “You came from the library?”

“Oh, yes, I was just inside to borrow something from the butler,” you said, smiling.

“Ah… is it Chan?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah. I assume you two have already met each other, Your Highness?” 

“Yes, he has worked in this palace for a long time,” he said, rolling his eyes slightly. “He just used to watch over me and Minho when we would go outside to play. If you ask him about me, he’ll probably tell you how insufferable I am.”

“Well, I am sure you used to be as charming as you are right now, Your Highness,” you said humbly, causing his eyes to soften. He sure hopes he’s charming enough to linger in your head.

“Oh, actually, I do have a small question to ask you, Your Highness!” You abruptly said after a moment of silence, almost preparing to take your leave when you remembered the letter in your hands. 

Hyunjin blinked in confusion, waiting patiently as you clenched your fingers softly around the envelope before finally moving your hand back to the front so he could see the letter. He furrowed his brows at the red seal, recognizing it as the royal seal and only getting more confused as to why you have it in your hands.

“I found this on the kitchen floor, I was wondering if you dropped it when you came by?” You asked, handing the re-sealed letter to him before timidly shrinking back on your spot.

Hyunjin looked at the envelope, his brows furrowing more as he wracked his brain to think. Seeing the words ‘To Princess Rose, with love.’ was able to snap him out of his thoughts quickly as he snapped his fingers with a yell of realization. You jumped, your eyes widening as he turned his head to look to the side.

He looked anxious now, his fingers fluttering against each other in mild panic and stomping his feet gently against the ground. This was what Minho talked to him about, the love letter! He was supposed to hand out his first letter to the Princess Rose so when she leaves, he could keep sending her love letters until the courting period ends and she has to pick her husband. 

“Oh, no,” he muttered under his breath before turning to you. “Thank you for picking this up, I’ll return this to Minho so don’t worry about it!”

“Oh, I wasn’t really–“

“Goodbye, I hope we can see each other again soon!” He gave you not another second to finish your sentence and immediately sped off to the direction where he came from. But before he could go too far, he stopped with a few stumbles and turned back around to ask loudly, “Chef! I forgot to ask for your name!”

Your face heated. What did he need to be so loud for, it was such a trivial problem! Oh, even though nobody was around to witness this, it somehow felt embarrassing! Hopefully, Chan couldn’t hear him from inside the library, it’d be weird to have to explain to him that the prince suddenly just asked for you name when they never do.

“It’s [Na]–“

“What? I can’t hear you!” He leaned forward, turning his head to the side to show his ear.

You pursed your lips together in faint annoyance before you took a step closer to him and said firmly, “It’s [Name]!”

Hyunjin flashed you a smile, his head nodding. “Okay,” he said, “I hope to see you later, [Name]!”

You clutched your hands together, feeling your red face still permanent even after Hyunjin turned around the corner and left like the wind. Gosh, why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? He was never in your mind before, and you weren’t about to be so shallow to develop a crush on him simply because of his gorgeous face, were you?

You shook your head with a light curse, reminding yourself that Hyunjin was a prince and you were just a palace baker, and you spun on your heels to leave before Chan could open the library door to ask about the commotion. 

Minho was panicking. The second he reached his hand in his pocket and realized the emptiness of it, he started to panic. 

He had the whole night planned out in front of him weeks before Princess Rose even arrived to the kingdom for a night’s stay. He had spent days and nights roaming about in the palace library, flipping open one too many romance books and hoping to find the right words to ink down on the love letter he would give to her tonight. 

First the dinner, the garden, then he would give her the first love letter within the next ten love letters he would write over the course of a full month. 

But he couldn’t find the letter in his pocket. The letter he so desperately stuffed inside his tiny pants pocket before leaving his room to welcome the carriage, the letter he had been worrying so hard about for the whole night, the letter he kept wishing had not gone wrinkled in the confine space was gone, vanished, evaporated in air particles he could no longer see nor touch. 

And god, was he humiliated to have to keep Princess Rose waiting while he awkwardly laugh to fill the delay.

Seeing the way he kept fumbling with himself, the princess tilted her head to the side and furrowed her pretty brows. She gave Minho a few more seconds to search himself before she opened her mouth to ask, “Are you okay, Minho? You look ghastly.” 

“I’m fine, Rosie. Don’t worry,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head as his movements halted to a stop. His cheeks were red, but it was hard to see with his back turned on the moon. “I am just… I’m just finding something.”

“Oh? What is it? Maybe I can help you look for it,” she got off the stone bench and approached him, her eyes gazing around at the floor carefully. 

“It’s not–it’s probably not on the ground?” Minho grimaced as he looked around the ground, hoping that he hadn’t dropped his precious letter on the floor and let the wind swipe it up in the air. 

“What is it, though?” Rosie pressed on, leaning forward to stare up at Minho. “I can help you find it. It seems important to you.”

“It is,” he sighed, a faintly annoyed look gracing over his angry brows before he softened a little upon her face. 

Pursing his lips together, he realized there wouldn’t be any harm in asking for her help. This could be a treasure hunting game of some kind; tell her about the love letter he wrote, ask her to find it with him, and the reward would be her receiving the love letter. It could be quite fun searching through the garden, the moon and the night sky already helped with setting the mood enough to not make this feel like a mundane chore.

The only regret Minho has was not playing it cool and pretending he had this plan all along. He knew Rosie didn’t much mind it, she never really did mind his occasional clumsiness much, but swerving out of his original plan really irked him.

“Actually, yeah, I would love your help,” he said, looking at her. “I think I dropped a–“

“Love letter delivery!”

Like a lightbulb going on, alarm bells rung in Minho’s ear briefly upon Hyunjin’s panting but cheerful voice. He whipped his head to the side, his eyes widened in bewilderment as he watched Hyunjin halt to a tiring stop. Sitting right between his fingers was the envelope he had been hoping to see.

“Love letter?” Princess Rose turned to the side so she could face Hyunjin fully. She walked near the boy and reached her hand out, demanding the letter to be delivered as he so loudly announced a moment ago. 

Hyunjin looked at her, his jaw dropped slightly in reluctance. His eyes gazed past the princess and at Minho, asking for permission. When Minho rolled his eyes and gave him a casual shrug, he learned two thing: (1) it does not matter what Hyunjin does, because either way Minho thought he ruined the mood for him anyway and (2) yes, please give Princess Rose the letter so this humiliation event could stop.

“Here you go, princess,” Hyunjin said lowly as he placed the letter in her hand before bowing, with a hand over his heart and the other behind his back, the one he saw Chan doing to the king’s friends before. “I shall take my leave now. May you have a pleasant night, princess.”

Minho scoffed as Hyunjin swiftly turned around and walked away. He bet that boy immediately started running with his arms flailing about the second he turned the corner and just headed straight back into the palace, and he was over here acting all coy and gentle in front of Rosie. 

His attention reverted to Rosie when she turned around with her brows raised in question, the love letter clutched tightly in her hand. There was a very faint blush on her cheeks, but Minho could’t tell if it was just the makeup or the shyness that was causing it. Even when she approached closer to him, the dark night seemed to have draped a veil over her face and he could not tell clearly.

“You wrote me a love letter,” Rosie mused, waving it about in the air as an amused smile spread across her face.

“Yes, I did,” Minho replied in a grunt, putting his hands on his hips, “I am supposed to be courting you this month, right?”

“True,” she said, carefully tearing the wax seal open and removing the letter from the envelope, “but you are the only contestant to hand me a love letter so bonus points for you.”

“I thought the bonus point should already be added from me being your childhood best friend,” he joked, his tone holding a hint of mischief in it. 

“Correction, childhood friend,” she said as she walked over to the bench and sat down. She placed the envelope to her side and held the thin letter in her hands. “You’ve lost your title as best friend, that belongs to a princess now.”

“Ouch, my feelings are hurt, Rosie,” he said playfully, putting a hand on his heart and feigning to be in pain. 

Rosie lifted her gown and kicked Minho’s feet, not hard enough to make him stumble but hard enough to sting with her heel. She only smiled when Minho threw her a glare, and she returned to the letter in her hands. As she unfolded the paper, she spoke casually, “If I like the letter then I’ll add you more bonus point then.”

Minho kicked the rocks at his feet as he waited. His eyes nervously looked around the garden, embracing the scenery around him as he took in everything he has never paid much attention to. The carefully trimmed bushes, the wavering flowers, the reliable trees, and the clear path along the garden—the staffs sure take a good care of this place, he never took notice, and he would surely forget soon when another conversation strikes up with Rosie.

How beautiful the royal garden was has never been the kind of trivial things he has to let his mind linger on. Pretty things as such are like candy; he takes it in, and he forgets it until he gets another glimpse again, and never once does he take into account how the beauty comes to be because all he has to do is drown himself in it.

The silence was engulfing him whole, not in a comforting way as his own room would, but anxiously. The sound of silk curtains waving by his room’s window turning into the thunderstorm raining down in his chest, lighting strikes zapping down and just barely burning his lungs to create this exhilarating feeling inside of him. 

He was trying so hard to read her face, to see what she thought about the letter, to know if she liked it. But Rosie kept a straight race the entirety of her reading the letter, and the initial reaction she gave Minho was a bland expression. There was no smile, her eyes were empty, and her brows seemed neither happy nor angry.

Minho’s heart jumped as his mind raced to recall the days of him writing the letter. Has sleep-deprivation caught onto his brain and started spilling words for him? Or was his writing so purely bad that even Rosie couldn’t bring herself to pretend to appreciate it?��

He couldn’t speak when she suddenly stood up and walked near him. With wide eyes, Minho watched as Rosie raised her fist in the air before she landed a knock on his shoulder. Her hand stayed there, her fist slowly spreading out so her hand covered his chest, and she glanced down on the floor.

“You… you…” she muttered under her breath before looking up, with her rosy cheeks and shy smile, “you get extra bonus points.”

Minho took a second to huff out a relieved sigh, and it was both from how adorable he thought Rosie looked acting like that and from the fact that she liked the love letter he wrote. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the sweat lining up his forehead and wiping it away, then he finally smiled down at the princess.

“You liked it?”

“Liked it? Heavens, Minho, I loved it!” She exclaimed, her hands leaving his chest and going to clutch the letter. She looked down at it once again, a smile blossoming on her face as she re-read the words before sighing dreamily, her hand pressing the letter to her chest. “I mean, I had no idea you could write like this!”

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I did look for a lot of references.”

“Oh, but even then!” She said, looking down at the letter, “how my eyes rivals that of the depths of the ocean, how they contain all the secrets you wish patiently for me to reveal about myself–Minho, that is very romantic!”

Oh that was, indeed, a very pretty sentence and it absolutely did reveal his deepest affection for Rosie, but just hold on a minute.

Minho’s hand dropped to his side as his brows slowly furrowed, his mind paused to think again, recalling his time spent sitting at a desk with the quill pen in his hand. And he thought about it long and hard only to come to a terrible conclusion: he did not write a single thing about ocean in the letter.

“I’m sorry, what ocean?” He asked, leaning forward slightly in hopes to look at the letter.

Rosie smiled cluelessly at him and she repeated, “My eyes? The part where you said my eyes rivals that of the depths of the ocean?”

“Oh, that…” Minho giggled nervously.

He wrote no such thing. 

Minho watched with a grimace as the white carriage moved away from the palace front yard where he stood, along with a few palace staff and Chan standing just to his side. 

It was finally time for Princess Rose to leave for her kingdom in order to create a fair ground for all the other contestants in the courting period. Minho would definitely be visiting her sometime during the month, knowing fairly well the other princes will do so too, but he’s also got the love letters he would be sending her way over the course of the month. Therefore, he shouldn’t do too bad on it. 

The only problem he has right now was to find out who switched his letter out with something else, and his first suspect was none other than Hwang Hyunjin.

“Chan!” Minho called immediately after the carriage was out of sight. He turned abruptly to the side where Chan stood, annoyance surfacing to his face and causing the rest of the palace staffs to quickly scurry away from the front yard. 

Chan breathed in deeply at the prince’s voice, already sensing that there would be some sort of trouble happening under the palace roof today. For a second he looked at the fading carriage with longing, wanting nothing more than to jump on the wagon and ride back home where he could sleep until sunset. Taking care of palace duties could really take a toll on him sometimes, as capable as he is. 

But well, too bad that he got picked because he had an honest face and the previous butler trusted him the most. He would be stuck here until he could find himself a suitable replacement for this position. 

Chan put on a soft smile as he turned to look at Minho, and he asked, “How may I be of service today, Your Highness?”

Minho furrowed his brows, his grimace deepening at his friend’s formal tone. “Cut the crap, jeez,” he waved his hands dismissively, “you sound disgusting.”

“That, I believe, a lot of guests beg to differ,” Chan said jokingly, adding a somewhat seductive wink at the end of his sentence and causing Minho to roll his eyes. 

Even though he wasn’t wrong, and that lots of gentlemen and ladies who have walked through the palace doors for balls and parties have openly discussed Chan’s more than gorgeous features and top-tier politeness, he didn’t need to say that. Not to mention that stinking wink he did, ugh, it just makes Minho shiver. 

“I’m going to pretend I never heard that but do invite me to your wedding if there will be one,” he said before jumping right back into the original topic. “Do you know where Hyunjin might be?”

“Prince Hyunjin…” Chan hummed as he turned to look at the palace, his eyes squinted as if he could see right through the walls and pinpoint Hyunjin’s exact location. 

And perhaps he could. After all, he had taken care of him for years before due to his frequent visits, he might still be able to recall Hyunjin’s never changing morning routine if he tried hard enough. Giving it another thought, mentally listing all the things Hyunjin does in the morning and about how long it takes for him to finish each tasks, Chan finally turned to look at Minho again.

“I could be wrong, but it is likely that he would be on his way to the garden right now,” Chan said. “And since he usually likes to grab a snack for that, he might be near where the kitchen is at the moment.”

“Got it, thanks!” Minho mumbled under his breath as he sped past Chan and ran inside the palace, leaving the butler completely bewildered.

And, just as Chan predicted, Hyunjin was walking along the hallway with his hand holding up a plate of cake. His brows were furrowed and there was a pout on his face that he couldn’t wipe off. 

He spent his entire morning in the library. He had laid on the velvet couches, all four of them plastered across the corners of the reading area, with a different book in his hands every other minute. 

He never actually paid attention to reading them, he only flipped the books open to read a few lines before he would close it and drop it on the tea tables. His short attention span never quite allowed him the time and space to finish one book entirely.

But he loved the library even then. It is quiet as the garden is, and while it couldn’t refresh his mind like the garden could with the flowery scent and the bright blue sky, the library has always given him a mysterious, candle-lit atmosphere. 

He loved the carpet floors and how his footsteps could never be destructive walking around it, and he loved the concept of books lining up the shelf, each one of them a different emotion stained with ink. 

The library is so alive to him, filled with people’s quiet minds, waiting for him to discover. 

After his hazy morning delight, all spent drowning in pages and admiring certain phrases he found beautiful, he started thinking about you. A gentle thought, one that could waver off easily if he tried, but he never tried because he Hyunjin loved thinking about you. 

You and your mellow words, spoken in such a gentle voice, your formality that he genuinely disliked, your passionate hands that could make brilliant desserts. He smiled with the poetry book pressed close to his chest. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was see you, which would be convenient for him since you two were located under the same palace roof now. 

He finally got off the soft surfaces and decided to head to the garden so he could admire the flowers and, well, daydream about you again, and he had stopped by the kitchen in hopes to find you there. 

He wanted to talk to you again, and perhaps he could humbly ask for a tray of snack from you to enjoy during his long visit to the garden too. But you were nowhere to be found when he arrived, not when he glimpsed into the kitchen and not by the other kitchen staffs who worked inside.

He did get himself a plate of strawberry cake, though, which he was quite in the mood for. But nothing beats being able to eat the dessert you make, and he knew that you didn’t make this cake as chef Park was the one who handed it to him while telling him about how he spent the whole morning making it.

As he made his way across the hall, putting pieces of the cake into his pouty mouth, rapid footsteps were making their way towards him from the other side. When Hyunjin finally registered the noises, he looked up from his plate and stopped when he found Minho racing towards him from the other end of the hall.

His pulled a face at the way Minho was panting by the time he approached him, watching his pathetic face contorting while stabbing the fork into the cake and popping in another piece. Hyunjin’s mouth was full when he spoke, his voice slightly muffled by the small pieces of strawberries and the soft cake in his cheek.

“What are you running for, you idiot?” He asked, a hint of irritation present in his voice as he waved his fork around the air. “See? Now you can’t breathe! You look stupid, and for what reason, Minho? For what?”

Minho looked up at Hyunjin, huffs of breath leaving his lips as his gaze hardened in confusion. “Who put roaches in your cake, Hyunjin?” He asked as he stood up, looking at Hyunjin with a permanent frown as he pushed aside his own problems to ask about his attitude. “You’re so grumpy and for what reason, hmm?”

Hyunjin scoffed, stuffing his cheek with yet another piece of cake before he complained, “Shut up! I’m just disappointed, that’s all.”

“Why? Is the cake bad?”

“No, it’s a normal cake, and I’m not going to explain it to you so just leave it,” Hyunjin sighed, his voice much gentler now that he has calmed down from the heat of not being able to see you just then. He poked at the frosting with the fork and eyed Minho carefully, his brows raising in question, urging him to speak. 

Minho gathered himself then. He has been thinking about the love letter all night, feeling both furious and defeated because he was torn between being happy that Princess Rose liked the love letter, thus liking him better, and being upset that his feelings weren’t the ones delivered to her but somebody else’s words. 

He wasn’t sure if the process mattered more than the result this time. 

“Did you write my love letter?” Minho asked, going straight to the point.

Hyunjin stared at him for a long moment, just munching on his cake and looking directly into his eyes with his own hollow and dead ones. And it took Minho a light-hearted shake of his head before he finally spoke in that bored, nonchalant tone of his.

“That’s a stupid question, Minho,” he said with a snicker, “if you said it is your love letter then who else could have written it but you?”

“Hyunjin,” Minho called once, firmly, his fists curled to his side and a sarcastic smile on his face.

Hyunjin laughed, holding his hand out in mock defence as he took a few steps back. Alright, he didn’t register how Minho was being serious but hearing his teeth gritting against each other was a good enough indication. He was still smiling in amusement when he forked up the crumbs of the cake and shoved them in his mouth.

As soon as he dragged the fork away from his lips, he spoke with an incredulous grimace, “Okay, okay! No, no I didn’t write your letter.”

Minho pressed on for a little more, not believing in Hyunjin just yet due to how playful he was being. “Are you sure? Nothing like… how Rosie’s eyes are like the ocean?”

“Eww, god no, that’s cheesy!” Hyunjin gagged, his nose scrunching up in pure disgust. 

He couldn’t even begin to think of Princess Rose in a romanic way, let alone write something about her pretty eyes being akin to the ocean when they’re not even blue. That kind of creativity wasn’t reserved for her, it was reserved for you, someone who he was actually fond of.

“Well, she liked it so cheesy or not, it worked,” Minho scoffed as he crossed his arms. “Except I wasn’t the one who wrote it, and if it wasn’t you either then it has got to be the person before you… say, who gave you the letter, Hyunjin?”

“Huh? Uh… [Name] gave me the letter…” Hyunjin’s voice trailed off slowly to a halt as he watched Minho’s expression morph into confusion. He waved his fork in the air and explained, “The one who made those cream puffs yesterday. They said they found it on the kitchen floor, I think they tried to ask Chan about it too since they came out from the library when I saw them.”

Minho tilted his head to the side, his mind racing to piece of puzzles together. It could not have been Chan who helped him write the letter. If he wanted to help then he would have done so weeks ago when he saw Minho turning and flipping pages of multiple romance books in the library. Why would he suddenly rewrite the whole letter for him? 

Besides, Chan wouldn’t head inside the kitchen for no reason. His duty laid outside the kitchen, where the main rooms of the palace were located. You definitely picked it up after he dropped it and looked inside because curiosity got the best of you. 

What Minho couldn’t understand was why you rewrote his letter? Have you planned to sabotage his undisclosed plan to court Princess Rose? 

“[Name]…” Minho muttered under his breath, his chest heaving in frustration as his brows knitted to the middle. Whatever reason it was, you already did what you should not do; your crimes didn’t simply lie in rewriting Minho’s love letter, you obviously tore it open and read it as well. And he has to settle that with you. 

Sensing Minho’s displeasure, it took Hyunjin a short moment to realize he might have just snitched you out accidentally, albeit he wasn’t aware of what you did and neither could Minho be sure, it seemed. Placing the fork on the plate and casually dropping the plate on the side table, carefully pushing it into the corner and against the flower vase landed on top.

Hyunjin placed a hand on Minho’s shoulder and laughed awkwardly, trying to deescalate his rising emotions. “I’m sure they didn’t do anything, though. Maybe you wrote something and you just forgot!”

“I’ve been facing that letter for weeks, I’ll never forget it,” Minho mumbled under his breath as he brushed Hyunjin’s hand off and started walking towards the direction of the kitchen. 

Hyunjin panicked. Minho seemed genuinely annoyed and he might have just put fuel to the fire by trying to defend you. He had no idea what Minho planned to do if he found out you did tweaked his letter, and he wasn’t sure if he has the power to stop whatever Hell could be descended upon you, so he made another mistake by stopping Minho in his tracks again. 

His hands tugged at the older’s collar, stopping him from moving forward. When Minho turned around to throw him a glare, he felt a shiver run down his spine and he immediately let go of his red silk shirt. 

“They’re not in the kitchen, I dropped by and they weren’t there so no point heading to the kitchen!” Hyunjin said nervously, clapping his hands together and rubbing his smooth skin.

Minho furrowed his brows. Fake smile, anxious eyes, and fidgety hands—he wasn’t lying, Minho knew. Hyunjin have always been the better liar of the two, he wouldn’t break a sweat if he had to lie to an entire crowd about some bullshit idea. Bluffing was his thing. If he was acting like this then he was just nervous and nothing else.

Unless Minho was wrong, of course. Since this situation matters you, and Minho suspected that Hyunjin has developed an enigmatic affection towards you (one that he needs to talk to him about because oh, no, a prince with a kitchen staff? The atrocity of that was immaculate), it could be possible that Hyunjin has thrown all caution to the wind and started to lose his head a little.

How disappointing. It wasn’t like Minho was going to do anything cruel to you. Did Hyunjin actually think he’d send you to the chamber over some stupid love letter? Hurtful, atrocious, obscene. Hyunjin has no faith in his tolerance at all even after all these years of him enduring his bullshit. 

“Well, I still have to find them somehow,” Minho muttered under his breath as he dusted his hands and continued to walk forward. “I need an explanation to why they rewrote my love letter!”

“No need to do that because I wrote it! I was the one who wrote it for you!” Hyunjin quickly said, catching up with Minho. But judging by the way Minho only kept walking, he knew his hasty lies were left both unheard and revealed. 

There was a moment of silent as the two walked towards the kitchen, Minho leading at the front while Hyunjin followed closely behind. Glancing behind his shoulder, Minho found the younger prince to still be fidgeting with the hem of his clothes, his eyes nervously looking around the walls and down at the pattered carpet, and a defeated sigh escaped his lips.

He wondered if Hyunjin noticed it himself; the way he stares at you, and the way his mind get all hazy whenever your name is mentioned, and how his movements always turn so abrupt and sudden when you are within presence. Minho wondered if Hyunjin realizes how his crush on you was only progressing when he should be suppressing it.

A relationship like that wouldn’t work, a prince and a kitchen staff. 

Even if Hyunjin was willingly to give up his royal status to be with you, which was a problem of itself, you most likely wouldn’t let him do such thing. 

It’s a tie bound to break.

You dropped the vine basket on the ground, the squelching of the freshly washed laundry a sound that reminded you of the chore you were supposed to be doing. You looked down at the wet clothes you were supposed to hang on the strings tied to the wooden poles in the backyard, groaned, and sat down on the curb by the bushes.

It has been a tiring day, much more tiring than when you still had kitchen duties, where you'd be asked to anything but bake even though you were appointed as a baker. But cleaning the dishes and gathering fruits in the orchard could still, to some level, be an enjoyable task for you.

Cleaning the dishes lets you at least smell the food in the kitchen, and picking fruits gives you time to think up new recipes. You could still somehow string baking into those kitchen duties you were often asked to do. But scrubbing the royalties’ clothes using a giant tub of soapy water and having to hang them all at the backyard? Not fun at all.

It was just tiring, and it was lonely because you have zero to none maid friends who’d talk to you.

You were the first one to finish washing all the clothes. It could possibly be your carelessness in not making sure if you’ve cleaned the clothes thoroughly, but you believed it was mostly your profound desire to get the hell away from the giant tub of gossiping maids, all with their sleeves rolled up and their mouths blabbering about the latest palace gossip. 

Lord, you would actually explode if you have to hear one more person giggle about how Changbin’s arms have been looking extra muscular recently, or how Chan is apparently the hottest man they’ve encountered aside from the two princes, who they try not to speak of too much because they are totally out of their league.

It was a nightmare back there. You wanted to say so many things; if only they knew Changbin talks like a baby and throws mini tantrums when he takes care of the farm animals. If only they knew Chan… uhh, you didn’t know him well enough to find any flaws in that man so you would let that one slip, but one thing you knew for sure was that Chan was definitely not as serious as everyone portrayed him to be.

Taking a giant bite of the bread Changbin snuck out for you when you walked past the kitchen with the dirty laundries, your shoulders slumped again as you relaxed against your knees and looked ahead at the yard. It was much plainer-looking than the royal garden, understandably since the backyard was mainly used to dry food and clothes. Only the palace staffs walks around this area, the royalties usually spend their time somewhere else.

Today seemed to be an exception though. As you munched on your bread, your feet tapping against the grassy ground rhythmically, your train of thoughts was interrupted when you saw two figures approaching. Not two figures in dark, plain clothing, but two figures in clothes made out of velvet and silk.

You squinted your eyes, knowing fairly well that those two weren’t any palace staff. And judging by the way they were speeding towards your direction, and how there were two of them instead of one, the king wasn’t part of the mix. Therefore, those two would be Prince Minho and Prince Hyunjin.

Quickly taking your last bite of the bread, you wrapped the napkins around it again and dropped the remaining piece on top of the wet laundry. You stood up and dusted your clothes before looking up, all just in time to find Minho stopping before you with his brows furrowed in dismay. Standing behind him was Hyunjin, who gave you an apologetic grimace when you two caught eyes.

You pursed your lips in slight confusion, but still you politely placed your hands together and bowed. “Good morning, Your Highness–“

“You switched my letter.”

You couldn’t even begin to get mad at him for cutting you off, not that you could have ever expressed your annoyance to him anyway. The fact that Minho has found you out baffled you, and you didn’t even try to deny it because he probably already knew the truth, which would be the only reason why he searched for you out of every potential candidates.

Perhaps you should have made an even more intricate lie, but you didn’t really think of that last night, especially not with how urgent you had wanted to get rid of the envelope in your hands. Now your carelessness came back to bite you in the ass, how wonderful. 

“I did switch your letter, Your Highness,” you admitted, keeping a neutral face to hide your palpitating heart. You have never met Minho in close quarters like this before and you have no idea how unreasonable he could be with the kind of power he has, therefore you needed to make every move with the utmost caution. 

Be polite, be fragile, be agreeable. That’s the way to go. If only you took your own advice every time, though. 

Minho heaved a sigh, his hands curling into fists as a sudden rage overtook him. Why did you do that? He has never done anything to you before! “How dare you open my letter when it isn’t addressed to you!” He scolded, “Have you no manners?”

“I apologize for doing that, truly, I harbour no ill intention for doing such thing aside from my immense curiosity.” You bowed before standing back up, but you kept your head low as you waited for him to respond.

“There is no point in apologizing, you have already switched out my letter and I already gave yours to Princess Rose. Even though she loved the letter you wrote, I hated that she didn’t get to read mine,” Minho said, relaxing slightly at your timid posture. “If you weren’t trying to sabotage my plan to court Princess Rose then why did you switch out my letter?”

You licked your lower lip. Oh, you were hoping he would just give you a punishment and let the issue go. The fact that Princess Rose liked what you wrote—ha! obviously—in the love letter has probably made Minho significantly less angry than he probably would have if the letter didn’t work out in his favor. But even with his semi-reasonable state, you were unsure how you could break the truth to him.

It might be rather hurtful, especially when you heard from the maids just then how Minho has been stuck in the library flipping books and looking for references for the love letter. 

"Why did you rewrite my letter? Tell me this instant.” Minho wasn’t yelling, which made it so much more intimidating.

You huffed out a gentle sigh as you looked up. A bitter taste lingered in your mouth as you shrugged, your eyes kindly refusing to look into Minho’s while your head turned to the side slightly. 

“It’s…” you started, your voice trailing off to a hush before you continued, “Your love letter was really bad… Your Highness…”

Hyunjin, who had been listening from behind, took a step forward upon your reply. There was a smile on his face, and his eyes were sparking with amusement when he learned closer to you. He clamped a hand on Minho’s shoulder and gripped it tightly to prevent from being shoved off, then he asked, “What did you say?”

You cleared your throat and repeated, your eyes darting between Minho and Hyunjin, “I said Prince Minho’s love letter was… really… uhh… bad.”

“No way! How so?” Minho quickly asked, his voice showing a hint of childish complaint in it. His lips jutted out in a pout, showing that he was genuinely upset that you thought his letter was bad. And that was coming from someone who wrote a love letter Princess Rose really loved. “I spent so long on it, though! How is it bad? I even searched through books and looked for references!” 

Oh god, now that you thought back to it, you didn’t know where you should begin. From what you could remember, there was simultaneously not that many flaws and so many flaws in this love letter. 

Reading it was a roller-coaster ride that went straight down, a journey of you spiralling more and more into despair when you realized all the elite education Minho has received was for nothing, because the love letter he wrote was almost abominable. Unless Princess Rose’s standards were extremely low, that letter would probably not bring him to the final round of this courting race.

Looking at Minho, your brows furrowed slightly at the grim anticipation on his face. Did he really expect you to talk him through the mistakes he has made in his letter? Could he not see that you’ve got a task at hand? Just because he could hold you off from doing it doesn’t mean he has to, the consequences of wasting your time wouldn’t be for him to take.

“I would explain everything to you but I have actual chores to do, Your Highness” you said as you leaned down to pick up the vine basket, “so I apologize, but I am going to have to ask for permission to leave.”

“Woah, no way,” Minho scoffed as he held up his hand. His brows were still furrowed in disbelief, but you could sense that a part of him was also curious to why you thought the way you did about his love letter. And maybe, just maybe, deep down there was a part of him that feared his lack of writing skills. 

“I have full ability to exempt you from a day’s work, and I will do that if you agree to explain to me which part of my letter sucked.” 

You clutched the edge of your basket. Somehow your eyes flipped from looking at Minho to Hyunjin, and your chest relaxed a little when his warm gaze stared right back at you, a gentle smile spread across his face. 

He had his hand on Minho’s shoulder, gripping it tightly as if to prevent his cousin from doing anything rash. And he didn’t have to be here during this confrontation but he was, not just because he was looking for some fun on a boring afternoon but because he wanted to make sure Minho wouldn’t act out. 

Everything Hyunjin did were discreet, but he was looking out for you nonetheless.

You only gave him the faintest nod before you turned back to Minho, and you raised a brow. “Do I even have a choice, Your Highness?” 

“No,” Minho said. “But I am still going to ask you politely.”

You heaved a sigh and nodded. “Fine. But, instead of exempting me from today’s work, I would like to ask for another favor if I could, Your Highness.”

Minho frowned, finding it annoying that you were trying to bargain in a situation where you have done something wrong. “What is it?”

“Chef Park has kicked me out of the kitchen to do maid chores for a whole week under unreasonable circumstances and personal grudge,” you muttered the last part under your breath, keeping an eye-roll to yourself. “I would like you to ask him to put me back in the kitchen, without revealing that I asked you to.”

“Huh…” Minho blinked unexpectedly. He turned to share an equally confused look with Hyunjin, just now realizing that you were, indeed, not fulfilling your role as a baker but instead, was doing a maid’s job. Looking back at you, he hummed. 

Whether there was a serious reason why you were kicked out, one he couldn’t fathom with the delicious cream puffs you made yesterday, he didn’t care. His love letter problem was infinitely more important right now.

“I will do that.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you said, bowing with a bright smile hidden in your action. When you looked back up, your expression bounced back to a neutral politeness, and you sighed. “It won’t take all day, there isn’t too much explaining to do, really.”

Minho frowned. He did not believe you. You wouldn’t have changed the entire letter for him if there really wasn’t much problems to explain, there were obviously a lot of things wrong for you to go to such drastic length to re-write it for him.

And boy, he was determined to find out what went wrong.

You brought the two princes into the palace, entering through the main gate instead of the mini door at the side where the palace servants usually go in and out through. 

The palace was separated into two parts, one much larger than the other, with the larger part being the grounds that the royalties mostly stayed on. The smaller part of the palace was located at the back corner of the structure, housing the bedrooms and bathrooms for the lower palace servants who were unable to leave home for the night. 

There were several doors leading into the that particular part of the palace, and they were all built in remote corners that only the servants could navigate to. You were unsure if any royalties have ever accidentally stumbled upon one of those little doors that cut down the red carpets laid out on the floor, but you were certain that none of them has ever tried to look for nor enter those doors. 

Minho has lived under this roof ever since he was born. He thought his younger self had roamed through all the secret passageways there were in his home, but he has never once arrived at this corner of the palace where you just led him to. 

It was all paintings and flower vases one second, then as you turned a sharp corner, suddenly the walls became dull and the floor boards turned up with wooden scratch marks. It felt like a foreign place to him. The way the palace was structured really made it feel as if the dorm wing didn’t exist, and it didn’t exist to him until just now.

You pushed open the wooden door and revealed a long hallway of closed doors. There were tiny torch holders lining up between each door, empty and waiting for the night’s arrival. Minho and Hyunjin shared a curious look with each other, both have never been around his part of the palace before, and together they followed you down the path. 

They have never noticed how loud their footsteps were before. For so long, the noises they make were drowned out by thick carpets and vibrant grass fields; the sudden loud clicking of their heels were making them feel rather self-conscious, especially when you were walking with such silent grace. Even with a full basket of heavy laundry in your hands, you made no sound as you walked.

 “Where are we, exactly?” Minho raised the question as he caught up to walk next to you.

Your steps didn’t halt when you replied, his question not at all surprising to you, “The dorms, these are all our rooms. The staffs who can’t leave for home because it’s too far away stays in the palace.”

“Oh…I should have figured…” Minho muttered under his breath, looking around at the small doors you three walked past. Then he looked back at you, his brows raised. “Why are we here?”

You came to a stop then, spinning on your heels so you faced the door. Pressing the vine basket against the side of your waist, you removed a hand from the edge of the basket and reached for the rusty doorknob. A loud squeak sounded through the hall when you pushed the door open, the weight of it heavy against the wooden floor.

Hyunjin poked his head over Minho’s shoulder so he could take a better look inside the room. He couldn’t get a full view of it yet, but he could see the dust lining up the window pane where the sunlight shone in, illuminating most of the plain room.

“I just need to fetch the letter you wrote, I have kept it with me since yesterday,” you explained as you dropped the basket by the door. “We can talk in my room, but I doubt you would want to be in here so we can find a place of your liking, Your Highness.”

Hyunjin got even more curious then. This was your room, this was where you sleep every night and wake up every morning. Somehow he wanted to know what it looked like, to go more in-depth instead of only looking at the windows staring back at him from across the wall. Would he be able to certain tell-tales about you? Perhaps your clothes, or the blanket you use to keep yourself warm at night? 

Even though he knew he couldn’t expect to see anything extravagant in a servant’s room, he wanted to walk inside anyway. 

“No, we can talk here. This is fine,” Hyunjin said as he waltzed right inside without further warning. And when he turned around to look behind his shoulders, he threw a small glare at Minho and said, “Right? We can talk here.”

Not quite understanding what he was trying to do, but also not having any preference over where he could get his writing skills criticized, Minho gave a shrug and walked inside the room as well. And just as Hyunjin was doing, his eyes started to scan the insides once he got more access to it. 

There was a single bed sitting on the far corner, sticking to the wall. A small table with two big drawers was placed near the bed with a candle holder being the only thing sitting on top. And that seemed to be all there was to that side of the room. Turning to the other side, there was only a closet and a chair right next to it. 

The room was small, but it was spacious because of the lack of furniture placed. It was much better than what the two of them have expected for a servants’ room. 

“Woah, this room is bigger than I thought it would be,” Hyunjin commented as he turned to you, watching you fish something out of your closet drawer.

“Yes, that should be the case since I share this room with someone else, Your Highness,” you mused as you closed the drawer before standing back up straight and looking at him, the piece of letter clipped between your fingers. Seeing Hyunjin’s raised brows, you gave him a faint laugh. “It would probably be quite a disaster if I have to share an even smaller room with Felix.”

Minho hummed, both in acknowledgement and amusement as he watched Hyunjin tense up next to him. Hyunjin gulped down a knot of dismay, repeating the boyish name under his breath as his eyes shone lightly with a burning heat. 

Oh, there must be a lot of question popping into his head at the moment, the word sharing a room and the name Felix not colliding very well for the sake of Hyunjin’s poor, young heart. They have both met the young fellow before due to him being a close acquaintance of Chan, and Felix was undeniably a very charming boy whose only downside seemed to be that he’s a poor servant of the palace.

“Oh–oh, so you share a room with Felix, huh?” Hyunjin laughed out awkwardly, his eyes squinting as they darted towards the single bed. His brows twitched, wondering if you had been laying in bed with Felix this entire time. Platonically or romantically, either way he couldn’t bring himself to show enthusiasm over it. 

“But… uhh, but there is only one bed?”

“Yeah, there is.” You nodded innocently, your eyes gazing at the messy bed with a grimace. Felix didn’t make the bed again, for the third time this week. You reckoned he must have a lot of work to do. 

Hyunjin laughed again, his voice forced and fake. You were far too casual about it than he wanted. Perhaps he was overreacting? You could possibly be taking turns on the bed instead of snuggling up to each other as he dreaded. 

When he asked the next question, his voice was squeaky in a way that made Minho snort from behind. “Do–umm, do you guys share the bed or something…?” 

You blinked at him, bewildered. You have never thought of that before. Ever since you moved into the bedroom with Felix, he had insisted on letting you sleep on it while he would wrap himself up with the extra blanket and pillow on the floor. But sooner, when you realized the heavy workload Felix had to endure during the day, you proposed the system of taking turns.

It took you a lot of convincing, and a night of you stubbornly staying on the floor, for him to finally agree with the system. He was so persistent on letting you use the bed, his kindness so overwhelming that even if his back was aching from the work, he’d still choose to sleep on the cold, hard floor.

“No, we don’t share the same bed,” you said, shaking your head before you raised a finger at the ceiling, “but that is an interesting approach, Your Highness. Not only can we both sleep on a mattress, we can also huddle for more warmth.”

No, no, no. Hyunjin did not mean to suggest that! He did not mean to suggest using cuddling with Felix as a solution to your problem.

“Surely, Felix wouldn’t mind if I ask.” You smiled, snapping your fingers. “I shall heed your advice, Prince Hyunjin!”

No, don’t listen to him! Oh my lord, what has he done? If you weren’t sleeping with another before then you certainly would now, and within Hyunjin’s striking imagination, the only thing that could happen with you cuddling Felix would be you falling in love with him. 

And since you often spend more time with Felix than you do with him, there would be virtually no way for him to ever try to gain your affection back!

“Well, I mean–wouldn’t that… wouldn’t that be a little awkward?” Hyunjin huffed out, “Surely, laying with another in bed, even through friendly means, is pretty intimate, don’t you agree?”

“That is true.” You hummed in thought, nodding your head in agreement before you suddenly bursted into a fit of giggles. “Oh, but Felix is quite a dreamy boy–not as much as you, of course. But I reckon I would not mind it that much if I have to lay in the same bed as him, Your Highness.” 

Oh heavens, how could he have done this to himself. Why couldn’t he simply shut up and let the envy dwell in his heart. This was a new level of self-sabotaging, even the devils would need a crash course from him. 

“Well, I–“

“Hyunjin!” Minho cut the boy off with a loud slap to his shoulder. He came up from behind, prompting Hyunjin to face him before he threw the younger prince a strong glare. 

It has been fun watching Hyunjin mess his non-existent romantic life up, it was probably the most entertaining thing he has seen all week aside from his encounter with Princess Rose, but for the sake of not letting Hyunjin embarrass himself even more, Minho had chosen to lend a helping hand. 

Besides, he wasn’t here to talk about you and your sleeping habit.

Looking back at you, Minho exhaled through his nose and his eyes froze at the letter in your hand for a moment. Then his gaze went dark, the previous anger he felt resurfacing at the reminder that you switched out his letter. 

Crossing his arms, he shifted his weight to stand taller, and he spoke, “Well, about the letter?” 

“Right, I have it here,” you said, waving it in the air. 

Minho quirked his lip for a brief moment. He wanted to snatch it away from your hands, he wanted to read it for himself and see exactly which part of the letter was bad. He swore the way he remembered it was that he had felt very proud of himself when he wrote the letter, and he was truly beyond the moon when he finished it. How could it have been bad if he loved it so much?

You gave a a scan once more, refreshing your memories of all the thoughts you had when you first read it, so you could better explain it to him where he went wrong. A few seconds passed and you finally looked back up at the princes, one looking sulky while the other annoyed, and you couldn’t help but heave a sigh at how your day has come to this weird moment.

All you wanted to do was eat some bread before lunch time. You should have headed to your spot and started clipping up the laundry instead, at least you’d look busy then. 

“Here, you should have it back, Your Highness,” you said as he handed Minho the piece of paper.  After he took it gently out of your hands, you looked back up at him and said. “And I shall tell you what went wrong.”

The hard part, right.

You didn’t know where you should begin explaining it to him. On a level, he didn’t make too many mistakes. His mistake was collective, it was one mistake he repeatedly made instead of several mistakes he made once each. But that collective mistake was able to render the love letter a shallow piece of art that held almost no significance to a lover.

“Your Highness… a love letter…” you began, your thoughts cogged up in your head and you were trying very hard to find the root of everything you wanted to say to him. You licked your lower lip, your hands flying up to your chest so you could do gestures along the way. “Your love letter isn’t bad in a sense that your writing was terrible, it is bad because it read as a shallow comparison.”

The letter had consisted of Minho comparing Princess Rose to an array of things. Starting with her hair, to her eyes, to her lips, then her overall demeanour. But that was all there was to the letter, just him making drastic comparison that amounted to nothing much but a compilation of pretty objects being put together in a single passage.

“There isn’t anything wrong with the way you chose to write the letter, but there is something wrong with the way you decided that all you needed to do was create comparison,” you said. “A love letter is not a school assignment to test how many vocabularies you know, or to test how good you are at creating similes, Your Highness.”

Minho took in your words intently, his mind processing each words and the connotation behind them with utmost concentration. You made sense to him, everything that you said made sense and did not seem like you were simply trying to make up something to scold him for. He did make a lot of comparison in the letter, but he didn’t realize how that could be bad until you told him just now.

Clutching the paper in his hand, he clicked his tongue and glared down at it. But why was it bad to create a metaphor? To write down some type of simile? What was so bad about comparing your lover’s hair to the softness of silk, or comparing your lover’s laugh to the heaven’s choir?

“So are you saying similes are inherently bad and I should never use it in a love letter?” He asked, genuinely confused.

You sucked in a breath, shaking your head as your eyes squinted in thoughts. “No, I am not saying that.” 

“Do you care to elaborate?”

“I was going to–Your Highness…” your voice trailed off quickly when you realized your sudden outburst, but as you eyed up at Minho, it didn’t look like he noticed the disrespectful tone in your voice. He was far too focused on the question at hand, and a part of you admired him for his willingness to take criticism. 

“When you write a love letter using comparisons like that, you have to…” you hummed, licking your lower lip as your hand bounced in the air, your thumb and index finger pinched together. 

“Similes are… they are completely fine to use. In fact, I used a few in the letter I wrote as well. But that is where the problem lies, Your Highness. You see, anybody can write a good comparison if they just slap a bunch of pretty words together.”

Words like soft, tender, gentle, galaxy, ethereal—language does not lack pretty words like those, and they can be as deceiving as they are romantic. Anybody can use it, anybody can say it. And sometimes when things are repeatedly being used, they lose their significance unless one puts their own spin into it. 

“What you really need in a love letter is sentiment! You need something to tie your comparison back to what you feel for the person you are writing to,” you explained, holding your hands out before your chest as if you were holding a heart. “Recall how I described Princess Rose’s eyes. I did not simply compare it to the blues of the ocean, I also mentioned how its depth is the way I wanted to unravel her heart.”

Hyunjin’s mouth hung open slightly as his head cranked upward in a slow realization. He wasn’t able to follow with your conversation, but when you started to explain the elements of a love letter, he reckoned he didn’t need to read Minho’s letter to understand what you were trying to convey. 

He understood it, seemingly better than Minho could since Minho still had a rather uncertain expression on his face. Marching forward, he placed his hand behind his back and spoke to break the thoughtful silence, “I get it! When you compared Princess Rose to the ocean, you are also comparing your desire to understand her as deep as the ocean goes!”

“Absolutely correct, Your Highness!” You clapped your hands together and grinned at him, your eyes glimmering with approval that Hyunjin felt a startling tug at his chest. He was smiling secretly to himself then but you couldn’t notice as you turned to Minho, raising a brow as if to ask him if he needed more clarification.

Minho looked at you, his brows still knitted together but it wasn’t due to hatred but more so confusion this time. He tilted his head, his fingers automatically clutching the letter he almost forgot his has in his hands. Then he started to mutter words under his breath, inaudible words you assumed were just him repeating the points you’ve made.

“Okay… what are you saying is…” he gulped, his eyes rolling away to avoid the faint intimidation of your gaze. “I should link everything back to how I feel about Rosie?”

“Yes, Your Highness, that is all,” you said, giving him a firm nod. “When you make a comparison, you want it to stand out among others. It has to mean something to you before it can be considered valuable, or else it is just a jumble of pretty words you can find in a book.”

“And that would be very shallow, Minho,” Hyunjin added, giving Minho’s back an encouraging slap. 

Instead of answering, Minho had his letter brought up to his face and his eyes were reading every single line of it. Your explanation, plus Hyunjin’s added example, finally solved the puzzle for him. He was able to grasp the key of sentimentality as of now, an important element he didn’t know a love letter should own. 

The only problem lies in whether or not he could successfully utilize the advice. 

“Oh… I should rewrite this letter and send it to Princess Rose,” Minho said to himself after he finished re-reading it. He folded it carefully and slipped it inside his pants pocket, making sure he shoved it deep enough that it wouldn’t fall outside this time. 

His eyes searched the ground before they looked up at you. He wouldn’t admit that to your face, but you truly helped him big time. Although he was still upset that you had switched his letter out and read through the monstrosity he wrote, he was glad you made the decision not to let him embarrass himself in front of Princess Rose.

With an awkward hand gesture, something akin to a wave but not nearly visible enough to be one, he said, “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem. I wish you all the best in your writing process, Your Highness,” you bowed at him, “If I am not of need anymore, I shall take my leave.”

You stepped away from the princes and headed to the door. You picked up the laundry basket again, the fabrics inside stopped dripping water through the twisted vines. You looped the handle over your forearm and twisted the knob, opening the door in preparation the leave. But before you could take a step, a voice halted you.

You pursed your lips together in annoyance. Whatever was he going to ask? You thought he understood everything already! There was joy in seeing how passionately Minho loved Princess Rose and how much he really wanted to write a good love letter to her, but this was taking up your work time and you haven’t gotten through even one of your laundry basket yet.

Putting on a faint smile, you turned around and asked, “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Would you share with me what you wrote in your letter? I want to use it as reference, to set an example!” Minho asked, his eyes widened in screams of silent pleads. 

You heaved a sigh, your chest rising and falling visibly as you turned around slightly to face him. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but that I cannot do,” you said. “If I tell you, you will be compelled to copy it. The love letter needs to come from you, Your Highness. Your love should be without outside influence.”

You took your leave much quicker this time around, not hoping to give any of the princes a chance to stop you once more. If they do, you were seriously going to have to ask them for one more favor and exempt you from today’s tasks as a maid. You left the two princes in your room, one bewildered while the other in deep thoughts. 

Hyunjin was surprised to find you to have such a romantic mind. The mere fact that you seemed to have such profound opinions in regards to love and intimacy made him fall for you even more than he was already falling. And your perception of love was something he desperately wanted to find out, to go in-depth about and to understand. 

Maybe you two would have something in common, or maybe your ideas could rival that of his own. All Hyunjin wanted to do was venture inside your head and understand you from inside out. He always knew he was going to be in love with your mind and today just proved him to be absolutely right. 

He wondered if he would have been able to write a good love letter on your standard. It should not be hard to create comparisons of you, he could think of countless things right off the top of his head. But the feelings… it might be hard to express himself through words simply because of how strongly he felt for you. 

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Hyunjin took a look around the room and his eyes landed back on the single bed in the corner. He frowned then, his affection immediately being replaced with envy and defeat as he recalled your plan to ask Felix about sleeping together. 

God, that couldn’t happen, not on his watch at least.

“Minho–“

“Yeah I know,” Minho cut him off with a dismissive wave. 

He saw the way Hyunjin was glaring at the bed. Linking the previous panic Hyunjin had with you wanting to ask Felix about his suggestion, and the fact that Hyunjin got all fussy over Minho being angry at you, it was a no brainer that Hyunjin wanted to ask if there was anything that could be done about the lack of proper beds in this room. 

But he wasn’t in the mood to discuss that. The only thing occupying his mind was your lecture, and he kept repeating it in his head so he couldn’t forget what you told him. Sentiment, feelings, love—include those things and don’t be bland, don’t be shallow. 

“You know…?” Hyunjin muttered under his breath as he caught up with Minho, who had already left the room and started to walk back from where he came from. Judging by his quick steps, there were a lot of concerns popping into his head and Minho was racing to solve them all at once. “Are you okay?”

“You wanted to ask about the bed, right?” Minho pointed out suddenly, not stopping in his tracks as he continued to walk forward. “I can do something about that, but under one condition.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked quickly then, leaning in close an anticipation. It was anything to put a pause to your potential romantic life that involved him as the side character. 

“Write the love letter with me.” 

After finishing up with the wet laundries, you went ahead to take off the already dried off ones from a few days ago and headed back into the palace. You spent most of your day changing out mattresses and blankets, going from one empty room to another so you could make sure the palace stayed clean and golden. 

Nobody ever uses those rooms, though? At last not within your knowledge! They were mere guest rooms but there has never been any guest who would come by and stay the night, all aside from Hyunjin, and he only occupies one of the many guest rooms in this palace. You genuinely believed there was no point in cleaning them, it wasn’t like the neighbouring duke would pay the kingdom a surprise visit.

When you were finally done with you last guest room, the night has already descended upon the sky and dinner time has long passed. Walking along the hallway where the curtains were already drawn to seal the night, your stomach grumbled as did your throat, and you scurried out to the backyard where you returned the vine basket before heading straight into the kitchen in hopes to find some leftover food to eat.

You turned on the kitchen lights after pushing open the door, your hand patting along the wall to find the small button switch. The light flickered for a moment before it settled and illuminated a small portion of the kitchen. You eyes scanned the empty space, finding the silence welcomed but lonely. 

Everyone has probably gone to their room by now. It has been quite a long day due to a lady’s surprise visit (oh, so you have jinxed it). While she didn’t choose to stay for the night, the kitchen staff did need to replan their dinner and cook up something special for the queen’s friend. It all happened within a close timeframe, you heard, which was why you assumed everyone must be burned out after today.

Turning to the main kitchen area, your eyes didn’t notice the body hunched over the kitchen counter until you specifically turned towards the direction. A short squeal escaped your lips when you jumped, your hands flying up to your chest at the sudden impact. You had not expected anybody to still be in the kitchen, let alone an empty and dark one.

It took you a while to recognize the person, but seeing the bulging arms sticking out of the short-sleeved shirt and reliable back that breathed softly in his slumber, you could safely conclude that the person was Changbin. You frowned upon the realization, confused as to why he hasn’t returned to his room yet. If you had to guess, it would be him getting cleaning duties and falling asleep half-way.

But that wouldn’t explain the turned-off lights, unless the rumor about the castle ghost was real, which you heavily doubted.

Moving closer to his side, you faced his back and gave his shoulder a light poke. “Changbin!” You hissed, in a voice so low it wouldn’t wake anybody up in a crisis. When you received no response from him, you continued to poke his shoulder and call out his name, until you got fed up at your stupid method not working and you finally hollered his name out loud.

Changbin snapped his eyes open at the call, his body sitting upright immediately and his back tensing up with alertness. Panic grumbles left his mouth as he looked around the kitchen for expected danger, and when he did a double take on you, he paused quickly and finally relaxed. His shoulders slumped and he pursed his lips together, giving you a soft glare.

You shrugged, sheepishly smiling at him as you waved. “Good evening…?”

“Yes, good evening. Glad to see you’re finally done with the laundry,” he said, sliding off the stool and heading over to the stock shelves at the wall. “Sit down, I’ll cook you something to eat. You gotta be hungry, you haven’t eaten anything since this afternoon.”

He grabbed a two eggs in one hand, holding onto them tightly, then he reached over to the sink counter for a clean bowl before dropping the eggs inside. Putting the bowl next to the stove before looking up to check on you, he found you standing rigidly on your spot, unmoving and just staring at him. 

Your eyes were unreadable, much to his surprise. They were always so expressive.

“Are you okay, kid?” He asked then, his voice trailing slowly in a questioning tone. “I’m cooking you egg friend rice, do you not like that or?”

Your eyes traveled past his hands to his face, and you pursed your lips. It was a rare sentiment that suddenly overwhelmed you; nobody has specifically cooked a meal for you in a long time, the last time somebody did that was your mother, but you haven’t been able to see her ever since you moved to the palace. After that, you have only been eating the leftover portion of meals that weren’t sent off to the royalties or were made extra for everybody.

A personal meal. Something about that made your skin prick. It could very likely be that you missed your mom, but a part of you knew it was because you hadn’t expect Changbin to do this. He wasn’t obligated to take care of you like this, to stay up late and make you food, possibly even deal with the dishes when you’re finished and send you off to your room before he’d go back to his own.

“Aren’t you tired?” You asked, frowning at him despite not intending to. 

Changbin huffed out a low chuckle as he poured some rice into a bowl before proceeding to wash it by the sink. “Yeah, today was pretty exhausting,” he said.” But what then? Am I supposed to just not cook you dinner?” 

You pulled at your fingers, unsure what else to say besides words of gratitude that you were never skilled at expressing, so you didn’t say anything. You shrugged and approached the stool he previous sat on. You got on top, your feet perched on the handle and your shoulders hunched as you waited for him to finish cooking you your dinner.

“So do you plan to tell me what happened today?” He asked as he brought the washed bowl of rice over to the stove. 

Without removing his eyes from you, his hand moved to turn the stove on and poured the ingredients he prepared in top. The loud sizzle interrupted your train of thoughts and you tilted your head at him with confusion evident in the widening of your eyes, leaning forward slightly so you could talk to him through the noise.

“What happened today?” You asked.

“Felix came by and told me there is a new bed in your room,” Changbin said, laughing slightly. “According to him, it is said that Prince Minho requested the bed for you too, so what did you do that peaked his interest?”

The pleasant surprise startled you. Your jaw dropped slightly and a breathy laugh escaped your mouth in response to his words. You had almost forgotten about the encounter you had with the two princes today, even the fact that you had asked Minho to get you out of maid duty and back into the kitchen flew from your mind because of how busy you had been trying to tug in the four corners of a bed sheet. 

Your brows furrowed in thoughts then, a soft hum sounding at the back of your throat as you recalled the afternoon in your dusty little room. It couldn’t have been Minho who requested an extra bed for you, could it? 

From what you remembered, Hyunjin was the one who reacted strongly to you and Felix only having one bed in your shared room. Besides, Minho already agreed to helping you with chef Park’s problem, he wouldn’t do more than what he was asked for. He didn’t have to. 

If anyone was going to show you such generosity, it should be Hyunjin. 

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes swirling with perplexity. 

But he did suggest the idea of you and Felix sleeping on one bed. Perhaps he suddenly decided it wouldn’t be a good idea? And since he doesn’t have as much authority over how this palace wants to treat its servants, he asked Minho to be his spokesperson? Or you could be overanalyzing this; could you not humor the idea that the prince has decided to do two good deeds today?

Changbin was done pouring the egg fried rice into a bowl by the time you were almost done contemplating the true motif behind the extra bed. You were deep in your little world, your chin perched up on the heel of your palm and your eyes glaring at the table like you just stubbed your toe with it. He laughed to himself, wondering why a simple question required such serious thinking as he put the bowl in front of you.

“Hey!” He hushed as he tapped your nose with the hand tip of the spoon. When your eyes finally focused at him, he flashed you an amused smile. “What did you do, kid? You didn’t offend the prince, did you?” 

You glared at him as he gestured towards the fried rice before you. Taking the spoon from his hand, you shook your head and stabbed the utensil in the food, mixing it around before shoving a spoonful in your mouth. It was then when you decided to respond to him, “Why would he send me an extra bed if I offended him, Changbin?”

“Hey, I’m just asking!” He flicked your forehead after washing his hands at the sink. “And please, heavens, [Name], eat with your mouth closed.”

The droplets flickered down your faced and you wiped them away with your hand, continuing to eat without muttering another word. Just as Changbin suspected, you were extremely hungry, and watching you stuff too much food in your cheeks was the only joy he experienced today. 

He pulled out a stool from underneath the counter and sat down. His heart was clenching at the sight of you, eating freely with rice stuck to the corner of your mouth and spoon shamelessly clanking against the bowl. And he couldn’t tell if he was more remorseful or glad that he was able to be given a second chance as such. 

Changbin has never told you his past before and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell you for sometime. He wondered how you would react to it. He wondered how you would react to him having a child outside the palace, one he wasn’t allowed to see because he chose the palace life instead of his past lover. 

He regretted his choice, but back then choosing to work in a palace is a much reliable and stable job than anything else in his little town. He was young back then and it didn’t occur to him that there were other options open. The castle was the way for him and he just left.

Now his lover has moved on, his child has never met him before, and he has lost his title as a dad. 

A father, yes, but certainly not a dad. 

He was afraid you would realize how much he was projecting his guilt and reminiscence on you. Ever since you first got introduced to him, your childish and bratty antics kept growing on him until he found out how he was getting a taste of how it would be like to take care of a kid he never got to raise. 

He hasn’t really stopped treating you like kin since then, even though he knew you’re not his child. 

It was a battle with himself. For once, he couldn’t accurately guess how you would react to something, and he was scared that you could possibly be repulsed by it, so he kept putting off explaining whenever your curiosity strikes and you ask about his past. But he hoped he’d be able to come forth one day, and properly thank the lord for bringing you to him because he couldn’t imagine how much he’d still dwell in his past.

“Changbin! Stop being weird!” You finally yelled, kicking him under the table as you glared at him in mild concern. He had been staring at you eat, so intently you almost thought he was looking at the castle ghost behind you. “What the hell are you looking at? The air?”

“I was just thinking about something,” he responded in disbelief, surprised at your sudden toe. “Am I not allowed to think anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, you did,” you said, pointing at him with the spoon before bringing it to your bowl and scooping up a spoonful of rice. You stuffed it in your mouth before speaking, his previous scolding completely leaving your brain. “What are you thinking about?”

“How disgusting it is to speak with a mouthful of food.” Changbin smiled pointedly at you, causing you to groan out in annoyance. 

And, like he suspected, your spiteful-self immediately started to shove your cheeks full of rice before you started rambling nonsense. He could barely understand your words, your voice completely muffled by the food in your cheeks and with your trying to speak without spilling anything. You looked goofy and ugly, and he could go on. 

Your rebellious act came to a quick halt when a piece of rice rolled down your throat unexpectedly. You choked, feeling an itch in your throat that prompted you to cough like you were on your death bed. 

Changbin burst into laughter as he watched your face go red. In the midst of you hitting your chest repeatedly, he asked, “Do you want some water?”

You threw the spoon at him, in which he blocked with one arm held up to his face. His laughter only increased while your coughs slowed down to a gentle trail, and he got off the stool so he could pour you a small cup of water. You quickly snatched the cup away from him, dunking down the liquid and sighing dramatically when you were finished.

You slammed the cup down on the table then, your head turning sharply to him as your eyes glazed over with an irritated burn. “I could have died.”

“But you didn’t.” Changbin shrugged. “I told you to eat with your mouth closed.”

“There is no correlation to me choking on food and me eating with my mouth closed,” you retorted as you jumped off the chair and went to grab yourself an extra spoon. “I can still choke on food even if I’m eating properly.”

“Really? Care to show me?”

You dropped the spoon in the bowl and smiled up at him. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You can do that after you finish the food,” he said, pointing at your bowl. “Come on, it shouldn’t be taking you this long to finish eating a small bowl of fried rice.”

“If you wanna go sleep, you can just leave,” you mentioned, giving him a light-hearted shrug to further prove the point that you didn’t really care much for company at the moment.

“And have you use it against me later? No thanks, you’re gonna say I left you alone in the kitchen or something,” he grumbled, leaning his head against his hand and scoffing.

You didn’t say anything this time as you’ve got food in your mouth, and you’d rather not repeat that embarrassing, hazardous incident once more. But you did roll your eyes at him, indirectly telling Changbin that he was being dramatic and that you would never do such a terrible thing.

(Except you would, and he knew that you would.)

The kitchen was rendered silent again. The only sound resonating across each corner was the faint noise of your teeth clicking against the wooden spoon and your occasional chewing noise. Changbin looked at you again, his gentle eyes grazing past your cheeks and your small hands. His mind flew back to his home, but he doesn’t really see the faces he used to see anymore. 

Like kin, even though he knew you’re not his child–

He felt fine staying in the palace. And he was fine with taking care of you here.

–well, you were damn well the closest thing he has to one. 

Chan could see you racing towards him from faraway. Trailing slowly behind you was Changbin, his hands holding onto two filled water buckets. 

He kept his eyes on the mailman despite your speedy approach, his polite smile never fading as he patiently waited for the old man to take out all the letters—the ones addressed to the palace from the citizens—from his big, dirty pouch bag. He was the third of the many town mailman that would come by today with complaints or family letters, and Chan could recognize him well to the the mailman from your town.

He sure hoped there was something of your interest in that god forsaken bag today. More specially a family letter, one which you have been waiting for since the past two months.

“That is all for today. There is quite a lot to go through, I’m afraid.” The mailman’s hoarse voice gave Chan a gentle stung, it reminded him of his old man back home who had passed away without a last goodbye. He didn’t even realize the weight on his hands until he looked down to find his once empty basket to now be filled with envelopes. 

“Thankfully, I only sort the letters,” Chan joked lightheartedly as he bowed to the mailman. “Court business is completely out of my field of specialty.”

“Well then, my regards to the crown prince,” the mailman said, dipping his hat with an old and trembling hand. “He is going to have to deal with an entire kingdom soon, and I sure do hope he will become a good king.”

Chan only flashed the mailman a purse-lipped smile. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to insinuate, and he had not the faintest idea whether the king and the palace council were doing a splendid job in running the kingdom. While they seemed to be satisfying the rich and the royal, he could not tell if they were also minding to the average and the poor.

He was only a butler. He has lived in the palace and enjoyed as much luxury his job status could give him for a long while. Whatever goes on outside the palace life, he wouldn’t know and neither would have the time to sit down and chat about it.

“I shall see you next week again, sir,” he replied with a polite bow. “Thank you for your delivery, once again.”

“Of course,” the mailman said, a hint of laughter evident in his voice. “There isn’t much clumsy old me can do but send some letters these days. Gives me something to do after my wife passed away, and I like seeing you kids run around working sometimes.”

Chan wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he smiled and he waited for the mailman to take his leave. He listened for the creaking of the folding step, the gentle whipping of a horse’s back, and finally the stuttering movement of those round wheels bringing the mailman back on its path to the palace gate. 

His eyes trailed after the envelopes in the basket; another batch he has to go through so he could separate the complaint letters from the family mails sent to the staffs (royal letters are sent by designated palace messengers, not mailmen). The silver seals all sat prettily, some unevenly, on top of the white papers, and Chan could not help but admire them for a while.

That was, until your loud voice rang through his ears.

“Chan! Chan! Bang Chan!”

You bratty kid, why were you calling him by his full name again?

Calculating his timing just right, the second he stood up from his bowing position, he stretched his arm out before his chest and turned to the side. Your springing legs were forced to a quick stop as his the heel of his palm met your forehead, and you stumbled back when he lightly shoved at your head for you to back off.

“[Name], what did I say about addressing me by my full name?” He asked, exhausted from all the nagging you never listened to. “And you have to yell it this time? What if the king hears it? Do you understand how awkward it would be for me to have to explain the commotion to him?”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed and completely uninterested in what he has to lecture you about palace manners. Changbin has done a great deal of that already, not that any of his warnings has helped in any way. “Oh, whatever, the king is old! He’s probably going deaf at this point!”

“[Name]!”

“No point talking to them, Chan. This kid never listens.” Changbin’s gruff voice appeared from behind you. He set down his water buckets, the ones the maid asked him to fill up using the water pump from outside the front yard, and he quickly whacked you across the head. 

Ignoring your whines of curses, he looked at Chan dead in the eye then, something of a veteran father whose dealt with his child’s antics for too long and has become immune to them. “You gotta smack them.” 

Chan widened his eyes. You seemed more agitated than before, your eyes glaring daggers and impossible profanity spilling out of your lips like a mantra. He met eyes with Changbin, who ignored you completely with a smile. The disbelief in Chan’s eyes almost made him laugh; Chan has only ever met you under the warm and comfortable atmosphere of the palace, of course he wouldn’t expect you to be such a vulgar child.

“For the record, I didn’t teach them this,” Changbin mentioned as he pointed at you, and you smacked his hand away with an annoyed groan. “Weeks of scraping cow shit at the barn taught them this, which, for the record–“ he turned to look at you before shifting his attention back to Chan,“–you should probably keep chef Park in check.”

Chan raised a brow, curious to the reason why Changbin felt the need to lower his voice, and to why he was asked to keep an eye out of chef Park. He knew almost every staff working in the palace; perhaps not in detail for every single one of them, but he remembered their names and their families. Chef Park has never come across as trouble to him before, he wondered why.

“I will,” he said dubiously, but he kept the thought in mind.

“Good.” Changbin flashed him a nod, and then he sighed. He reached down to lift up the water buckets again, a huff leaving his lips. “I’m gonna head back and hand these to the maids. I’ll meet you back in the kitchen, okay?”

You gave him a brief nod and an annoyed grumble, still quite mad that he decided to smack you across the head. Changbin scoffed out a faint smile before he turned away, leaving you to talk to Chan about what you needed to ask him for. Chan spared a short glance at Changbin’s back before he turned his attention back to you, his brows furrowing.

“Where did you two come from?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

You shrugged. “Outside the palace gate where the water pumps are.”

“And that’s a two person job?” 

“Well, it… was…” you sheepishly twisted your feet against the ground, your fingers finding each other before your abdomen. A childish smile slowly graced your face and you looked to Chan hesitantly. “But then I got tired holding the bucket so–“

“You made Changbin hold them for you,” Chan muttered with a deadpan manner. 

“Technically speaking, I didn’t make him do it,” you defended confidently, speaking in a factual tone. “I kept whining about how much my arms were hurting and then he decided to take my bucket to shut me up.”

He sighed then, his eyes rolling to the side as his head shook. Not in disbelief, that was something Changbin would totally do for you. It was in defeat in the wake that there was probably no winning for him in any sorts of situation. 

“He should have smacked your head and told you to carry it yourself,” Chan commented. 

“This is why I don’t like you that much,” you confessed, both honestly and as a joke.

“Oh sure, you don’t,” he announced to himself, his voice holding a hint of magnificence in them as if he was mocking his opponent in an argument. Shaking the basket in his hands, Chan glanced down at it with a smile before he looked back up at you. “I guess none of these letters are of any importance to you as well?”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” You exclaimed as you leaned down to push at the edge of the basket until it hit the floor. Standing back up straight, you gave Chan a faint smile before you said, “I just want to see if my mom sent me a letter, since she hasn’t sent one in a long time.”

Chan hummed in thought, his eyes rolling skyward as he recalled the past months. He did remember handing you letters from your parents for a time period. It started with thick envelopes that would be delivered weekly, then as time passed by the letters became thinner with more time spaced out in between each reply. He couldn’t remember when you stopped receiving them, but he knew at some point, the reply stopped.

“I mean, I guess it was kind of my fault for not writing to my mom for almost a whole month once,” you mumbled to yourself, rubbing your hands together. “But that was a busy month for us. You would remember, right, when the duchess came to visit and we had a royal ball!”

That was the first time you were given the opportunity to make a plate of dessert on your own. Chef Park probably hated the idea of letting you in charge of a full plate of dessert, but the kitchen had needed to prepare a long table full of snacks for the ball, and there had not been enough pastry chefs to go around.

You had been instructed to make some sugary cookies for the ball, but with you being you, instead of making a boring plate of common dessert, you have decided to make honey jasmine macaroons instead. Not that sugary cookies are bad, but you would much love to bake something that could match the bubbly, extravagant atmosphere of a royal ball. 

Long story short, your plate of macaroons was licked clean by the guests, but chef Park hadn’t factored that into consideration and simply scolded you for disobeying him. Sometimes you would like to think that he was simply being envious of your ability, hence the reason why he didn’t tell anybody about the people liking your macaroons.

After that day, you haven’t been able to bake for the royals on your own until the rosewater cream puffs.

“Oh, yeah, I do remember,” Chan said, nodding. “Did you stop writing to your mother after that?”

“Well, I stopped writing during the time the duchess was living here,” you replied, calculating the timeline in your head. “But after that month, it took me longer to bounce back to writing a letter, so I think it was a little more than a month. I did write her a letter eventually, but I haven’t heard anything from her after that letter.”

He hummed thoughtfully, understanding your situation but not being able to explain to you why you haven’t received a reply letter yet, because he had no idea either. The only thing he could do was to make suggestions, some kind of excuse like your letter getting lost or your mother being too busy with the flower shop. Or, even better, he could try and look through the new basket of letter and see if your mother had sent you one back.

Looking down at the basket, a frown slowly made its way to Chan’s face as his mind processed just how many letters were in the basket. It would take a long while for him to shift through all of them just to separate the letters for the court and those for the staffs. Then he would have to find the letter sent by your mother specifically before he could hand it to you.

He was still in the middle of going through the first basket, a process he would hope not to interrupt. He wouldn’t want to mess up the areas from which the letters came from, considering how the court solve the complaints from one town to another instead of doing so altogether. Therefore, just to eyeball how long it would take him to find out if there is a letter for you, it would take at least an hour.

“Well, I will make sure to keep an eye out for your letter,” he said, glancing back up at you.

“What–can’t I get it now?” You whined. 

“Are you going to look through the whole pile now?” He asked, holding the basket up to you. “Because there are a lot of letters. You might accidentally skip through yours if you rummage through it, so it’s better to wait for me to pick them out and divide them first.”

You grumbled under your breath impatiently, your lips pursing into a hard line as your brows furrowed childishly. “Ahh, but how long is that going to take? I wanna know if my mom wrote me something so I won’t have to think about it!”

“I know, but I still have other work to do around the palace and this isn’t my only basket,” Chan said, his voice low in a coaxing way. 

And he knew you understood how busy it could get for him around the palace. The unsatisfied expression that lingered on your face was just there for you to vent, it didn’t particularly mean anything and he didn’t have to take it to heart. Except he always does, not severely but having to see you get let down weekly for the past months has made him grow susceptible to your angsty features.

Softening, Chan let go on one side of the basket and he pinched your cheek gently. “I’m sorry, but I promise I will try and get through it all as fast as I can,” he told you, with all the sincerity in his voice. 

“Hmm… Fine.” You pursed your lips together with a nod, leaning your face away from his hand. “I have to go back to work now, I’ll see you later.”

“You can count on it,” he said, his hand reaching back down to pick up the basket handle.

Flashing him a small smile, your legs brought you a few steps backward before you finally turned around and headed to the backyard. Your steps picked up, and Chan watched your back fade until you disappeared into the discreet corner of the palace. He looked down at the basket of letters then, his forehead creasing in a moment of thought.

Please be in there. He hoped. Please let your mother’s letter be in there.

You had planned to head straight back into the kitchen, but the sight of Changbin chatting with the maids by the laundry poles made you stop. With amusement, you found a spot under the shade of the old tree and you watched on, finding immense fascination in seeing the way he discreetly—almost discreetly—flirted back with the young maids. 

Perhaps it was you who never paid enough attention. Granted, you didn’t get to see much of Changbin interacting with other people. Whenever you were present in the picture, he was always too busy trying to keep you in check, he’s got no time to really speak with others. It was a peculiar sight, one that you planned to tease him about when he decided to leave the backyard and head back to the kitchen soon.

As you turned, preparing to flee before he could see you looking with awful, stupid intentions, a hand tapped at your shoulder and you spun around. The smile that welcomed you was familiar, you just saw it this morning when you woke up, and you quickly returned it as Felix waved excitedly at you.

“Hey, Lix,” you greeted as you eyed him up and down, your brows slowly furrowing at the dirt stained on his cheeks. His shirt was wrinkled, which you didn’t notice this morning but you were sure it hadn’t been as bad as it looked now. “What have you been doing?”

“We went out to the forest to gather more woods for the next few weeks,” he replied after heaving a sigh, exhausted from all the labor work he’d done all morning. “The court prophet said something about a thunderstorm coming so we were asked to fetch more wood for fire, since we won’t be able to head out if the storm actually hits.”

“A thunderstorm,” you snorted, your eyes widening a fraction at such an absurd idea. Whatever would happen to the weather in the middle of a hot summer, a thunderstorm was the last thing you would have predicted. “I wonder why. The North star clashed against the moon, perhaps?”

“Oh, [Name], you know I’m not one for analysing the stars,” Felix laughed out, rubbing his rough hands together and reaching a hand up to swipe at his face. “But I don’t mind a thunderstorm, I won’t have to head outside for duty for once. You, though–“

“I’m not afraid of storms,” you cut him off quickly with a roll of your eyes. 

You knew he would bring that night up. The thunderstorm approached during the middle of the night, when the palace has become quiet and empty. It was loud, and since the dormitory part of the palace was built differently—with lesser care, one could say—it made everything sound like they entered an echo chamber.

You weren’t terrified, but being away from the comfort of your own home and stuck sleeping on a foreign bed was nightmarish enough for you to be afraid of it that roaring night. Felix had awakened with the sound of whimpers, and he happily stayed up with you that night. 

“The echos of the palace walls simply scared me too much last time, but I promise you I am not afraid of a little storm.” You said, slightly annoyed. 

Felix could only laugh, his hand still furiously wiping at his cheek because he had no idea of knowing if he had gotten rid of the dirt. “Well, we’ll see when another one strikes us within these weeks,” he said.

“You will find your accusation incorrect,” you said as you reached up to swat his hand away. A frown adorned your face as you gently scrubbed off the black dirt on his freckled cheeks, a click of your tongue displaying your annoyance. “And for the love of god, bring a wet towel with you at all times.”

“But they’re heavy.”

“They’re clean and cool,” you said. “Good for wiping your face and good for the hot weather.”

Felix hummed in doubt, unsure if he was fully convinced to take an extra object with him to finish his duty. He didn’t much like the idea of having wet trails down his back, especially when he would be draping the towel over his shoulders instead of holding onto it. So he retorted with something that made you both frown and laugh.

It was an endearing frown, perhaps due to the laughter Hyunjin could almost hear from the other side of the yard where the grass field was. It was a spot far from where the chores were, but not far enough for the workings to be invisible to the eye. He and Minho sat under the tree, the shade covering most of their body besides their feet that poked out from the shadow.  

Minho wanted to find a place to sit down and write his second love letter to Princess Rose, but when Hyunjin suggested for a trip to the garden, Minho only grimaced about the dullness of it. It was always the garden. He wanted somewhere else, a new place where he could get inspirations from. 

Hyunjin wasn’t very sure what Minho thought could be inspiring about watching the palace staffs run around washing clothes and transporting woods, but alas, Minho sat down under the large tree and began tapping his pen on the parchment paper. He followed suit without much complaints. It wasn’t like he’s got anything better to do around the palace anyway. It was either he leave for his home, or he stays here and follows Minho around. 

The letter Minho was writing has been blank for a while. He kept pressing the tip of his pen against it but never actually scribbled anything down. His mind short-circuits every time he is about to write something; just when he thinks his brain had thought of something worth-while, his heart tells him to hesitate.

Hyunjin was done persuading him that the letter would be nothing more than a mere draft, that he need not hold any fear. Pretend it like a diary and simply let his feelings flow, Hyunjin told Minho, but the advice was not taken with each huffs of heavy sigh leaving the prince’s mouth. And Hyunjin was quite tired of trying to rid Minho of his anxiety, so what he did was that he turned away from his frowning cousin.

The sight that welcomed him was you, almost immediately within the crowd of similarly dressed palace staffs. And he was happy to see you. You stood under the shade in your natural glory, as always, and you were grinning towards a direction Hyunjin couldn’t bother to tear his gaze away to check. 

He was debating if he wanted to pull you out of work once again, just so he could spend some time to talk to you. He has the power to do that, and if he doesn’t then Minho certainly does. But whatever excuse was he supposed to give to get you out of the kitchen? He didn’t want to come off annoying. He was also too shy to drop hints that might indicate his fondness toward you.

He could think about something work related! Perhaps another dessert that he wanted to eat? He was very fond of those cream puffs you made, he would love to try out the other desserts. 

The dreamy smile on his face was permanent for a long while until Felix showed up. His smile gradually faded as his eyes watched your friendly interaction, and his plump lips pursed into a thin line as a bitter taste dropped at the tip of his tongue.

Annoyed, and definitely jealous. Annoyed because he couldn’t blame Felix for being friends with you and he couldn’t blame you two for being close friends, jealous because, well, obviously because he has a majorly, royally problematic crush on you. 

“Hey! Lover boy!” 

Hyunjin slowly looked to his side. The nickname Minho just playfully gave him not settling on his good side whatsoever. He needn’t be reminded of how terrible his crush on you was going; not to mention he barely had any chance to begin with. His royal status was a screw-up from the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Minho stared at his cousin for a short while before he breathed out a defeated sigh. He had pretended to not notice Hyunjin’s infatuation for a long time. It all started with his unusually frequent visits to the palace; something Minho deemed solely because Hyunjin and his parents’ relationship was never the best. But things changed when he realized how observant he has become.

Hyunjin wouldn’t spare the palace halls another glance, so when he started to look around the corners as if searching for something, or someone, Minho’s suspicion started to raise as well. He didn’t know when he concluded that Hyunjin has fallen for somebody in the palace, he just knew he did. And it was only recently when he finally found out who the token staff was.

Those rosewater cream puffs really caught the boy by the throat. 

“You like [Name],” Minho pointed out boldly.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and scoffed. He leaned his elbow on the knee of his crossed legs, putting his chin on top of his palm as he stared ahead at you. His mood went even more sour when he watched Changbin ruffle the both of your heads. 

Jeez, make it look more like a family, why wouldn’t you? The scene looking exactly like you three were having the “Oh, hey, I brought my boyfriend home!” kind of conversation—ugh! He could shiver in annoyance just from thinking about it. 

Hyunjin looked away from you, a huff brushing past his lips strongly as he spoke, “This pisses me off!”

“What pisses you off?” 

“This! This stupid, invisible crown on my head!” He gestured towards his hair, his finger going in a circular motion. Then he shifted down to complain about his silky clothes, and his gold belt, and his cotton socks matched with leather shoes. He hated all of it, anything that labeled him as a prince he despised. 

“Would you rather walk around in thin rags then?” Minho shrugged, smiling in amusement. His attention was focused on the letter in his hand. When he scribbled something down, he held it up to Hyunjin’s hand to stop him from replying. “What do you think about this?”

Hyunjin yelped, swatting Minho’s hand away before snatching the paper from his hand. He carefully glanced at the paper, rereading the sentence his cousin wrote at least three times before he grimaced with an honest answer. “Good, but change the structure, it doesn’t sound eloquent enough.” 

“I was thinking maybe I can express the insanity I feel through incoherent sentence structures,” Minho hummed, receiving the letter just as Hyunjin huffed out a disapproving grunt.

“You’re not the person to pull that off,” Hyunjin commented.

“I’m not,” Minho dragged out in acceptance, running the pencil across the sentence before he placed the paper back on his knee. He twirled the pencil between his fingers, his brows furrowed, then he jumped back on the original topic. “You know the materials they wear can’t keep you warm during winter, right?”

“They can’t–they can’t?” Hyunjin borderline yelled, the panic slightly bubbled up his head. He glared at Minho, his brows furrowed in concern. “Hello–what if they get sick? Do you guys at least distribute extra duvets?”

Minho didn’t answer his question. The sheer fact that Hyunjin has the capability to care and to question the treatment palace staffs receives was startling enough for him. It was not to say Hyunjin would be so heartless not to care about other people, he was a boy with a kind soul, but he also was not brought up to think too deeply about people unlike him. 

He would give sympathy to those less fortunate than him, but his mind wouldn’t register the option the help if he wasn’t there to witness the problem himself. 

“You know how much of a problem it is for you to like them, right?” Minho spoke, turning to look at the working maids. His eyes were careful as he scanned past them all, his head unable to name a single one of them but still could recognize a few faces he has seen multiple times before. “You and [Name]. It’s not an easy match. The royal court won’t allow this.”

Hyunjin pursed his lips together. His chest was burning at the truth, hating it with all the might his lean body could muster. “They don’t have to allow it. I doubt [Name] will develop any feelings for me anyway.”

“Oh? That’s an interesting view,” Minho said, widening his eyes at the letter. “Why so?”

Hyunjin sat in silence for a moment, his mind working to think up a reason. It was all tangled in his head; there wasn’t just one reason, there were plenty, as much as he hated to admit it. He didn’t know where he should start. Should he start from problems steaming from him, or problems steaming from everybody around you?

Just to name a few right off the bat: your statuses were different, he was born with royal blood while you were born as a commoner. Not only would royalties from all the neighbouring kingdoms give him the sting eye for falling in love with someone much lower than him, his parents and his relatives likely won’t allow it as well. 

His bloodline was a huge, painful problem; an unbreaking stick in all of his relationships, platonic or romantic.

Now, setting his royal status aside, who was to say that you’d fall in love with him? Hyunjin knew he was good-looking since everyone around him told him that ever since growing up, and he’d like to believe he’s got enough charisma to charm the other equally rich, if not richer, marriage candidates from other kingdoms. But nobody has ever talked of his personality before.

Long story short, Hyunjin hasn’t done anything outstanding as a mere prince. Every charitable accomplishments were credited back to the king, as it should be because the king (and his council) regulates everything. He has taken no part in political or social management of his kingdom even though he was born as the crown prince. 

What if he wasn’t good enough? How would he know if his personality was the type that would make people fall in love with him? He wouldn’t be able to tell. Even in royal marriage, almost everything was arranged or based on economic measures. Royalties don’t like each other for who they are, he learned that the hard way. And no one has ever told him he’s got a killer personality, at least not genuinely, he supposed.

You have told him he was charming, but you didn’t know him. He might not be somebody you would want to have around. 

“I barely spend time with them,” Hyunjin replied casually after the spacious, panicking round of overthinking in his head. He licked his lower lip, discarded the thoughts in his head, and he picked himself up. “You can’t fall in love with people you’ve never spend time with. I would want to get to know the person more and more, just have them reveal everything to me as time goes.”

Because wouldn’t that be so nice? To reveal yourself to someone who’s willing to stay. 

“Well, aren’t you a romantic,” Minho grinned out, finding amusement in the way Hyunjin seemed to be turning into some sappy, all knowing lover of the century just because he, too, has fallen in love with somebody. 

And Hyunjin was always rolling his eyes and scoffing at Minho for being overdramatic about everything regarding the princess—the audacity. 

Hyunjin could only scoff. The laugh he let out was sardonic at best because he didn’t know what other reaction he could have. How does one properly display defeat? Through what kind of expression could he use to show that he felt stupid for still letting himself fall even though he knew that the relationship would end in nothing, just nothing. 

But it wasn’t like he had a choice. Hyunjin’s heart has always done what it wanted to do; if it wanted to fall in love, it would do so disregarding all types of circumstances. He was a boy who’s got his heart thrusted out for everyone, full and beating. He couldn’t change it, he just fell for you. 

Hearing the lack of response from him, Minho turned away from the love letter in his hands and he glanced at Hyunjin briefly. There was this dazed look on his face, a blank but remorsefully thoughtful look. He could tell Hyunjin was beating himself up over liking a palace staff, one who didn’t even serve his own kingdom too!

Sympathy surfaced in Minho’s chest. He wondered how that felt. He wondered how it was like to fall in love with someone so blatantly out of your reach, someone who was accustomed to putting up a wall between yourselves due to the status quo, someone who your family and your subjects wouldn’t approve.

Minho wondered how it felt to fall in love with someone who could’t reciprocate the feeling for so many reasons, and despite all the power the crown holds, there is still nothing to be done.

It must be exhausting. 

“I’ll support you two.” 

Putting the paper and pen down to indicate that this would turn into a rather serious conversation. He sat up, crossed-legged with a confident smile as he watched you vanished into the palace with Changbin. Minho knew, subconsciously, that he still held certain ill-feeling towards what you’ve done to his love letter, albeit if was for his own sake. And he has to admit, he has known you for no more than a long, embarrassing conversation of you lecturing him about the topic of love.

But he was so sure, somehow, that you are definitely no so bad of a love interest for Hyunjin. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked, staring at Minho with wide eyes.

Minho turned to him, the grinning softening on his face. “I said I’ll support you two. When I become king one day and I’m in power, I’ll publicly display my encouragement for you, seeing that you do successfully woo the brat in the future." 

Hyunjin physically brightened at his words, finding solace in knowing that while knowing his romantic goals might be far-fetched, Minho stood with him instead of going against his wishes. It was nice to be able to get it all off his chest; having to hide that he was in love with a kitchen staff around the palace with watchful eyes and soundless walls was terrible. He’d hate to have the news spread all over the place.

Bringing his legs up to his chest, Hyunjin smiled ahead of him, watching the maids move around with laundries baskets in their hands. He scanned their faces, none of them able to reach your level of gracefulness when you walked and the brightness of your smile as you talked to others.

“I want to be able to fall in love with who I want to,” he said with a faint smile. “I want to be able to fall in love with [Name].”

Minho hummed, “You can. Didn’t you already?”

Hyunjin felt a sickening rush of affection consume his veins, the thought of you fulfilling his head. The butterfly, the cream puffs, the single leaf on his hair. His smile widened; Minho was right, he already did.

[wistfulcynic]

till we be dead ourselves

I saw a thing today that made me a bit cross and reminded me of how unsatisfying I've always found the Brothers Jones reunion in the underworld. This is the result. It's not anti-Liam but it does change him quite a lot from canon, so if that's not your jam you may want to skip this one.

Basically, this is the Brothers Jones I would have liked to see.

Also, at least part of the inspiration came from chatting with @thesschesthair and @winterbythesea about alternative POVs on our OTP. So here, guys, have a Liam. Beware, there are feels. 

SUMMARY: Liam Jones has been waiting for his brother for three hundred years. When he finally arrives, he's not as Liam remembers. Some not-typical or particularly respectful of canon Brothers-Jones-in-the-underworld feels, plus a dash of Captain Swan.

words: 2025 rating: T tags: not canon compliant, underworld AU, brothers jones. Major characters are already dead. 

on AO3

-

till we be dead ourselves: 

He’s been waiting a long time for this. Three hundred years. 

Well, two hundred ninety-three years and eighty-six days, to be precise. He knows because he looked it up. He had to. It’s not easy keeping track of time here; some seconds tick so slowly they’re torture while years can pass in the blink of an eye. 

Years, such as they are. There aren’t really years in this place, or truly ‘time’ at all. There’s not really anything. This is nothingness, a void, a repository for whatever souls are made of, and different to each one. They’re trapped here, these souls, until they finish whatever business still remains for them, and over the centuries he’s seen so many come and go—some sorrowfully confused by what they need to do, others firmly certain. 

As for Liam Jones, he’s always known why he’s here. His unfinished business is Killian. 

On the day Killian arrives Liam can barely contain his excitement. Not just because he may finally be free of this place but because he longs to see his little brother again. He’s missed Killian, and also he’s keen to know what the devil took him so long. How is it possible that his brother’s life stretched on for over three hundred years? 

He walks quickly through the town—an odd little town, unlike any he encountered while alive. His afterlife has manifested it for only a few years. Before that it was ships and ports and then it was jungle. Ships and jungle, jungle and ships for so very, very long. He’s come to realise that his afterlife reflects what his brother does Above, though what precisely that consisted of he is not privileged to know. He’s hoping Killian will tell him. 

He knocks on the door of a large, blue house and waits, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. When it opens he turns with a smile that freezes on his face. 

The man framed in the doorway is his brother, unmistakably him, yet Liam finds he’s not prepared for how much Killian has changed. He feels foolish for being taken so by surprise; of course Killian is not what he remembers. He’s not still the eager young lieutenant he was when Liam died, obviously not. He couldn’t be. 

But the man before him is… hard. Jaw set and eyes cold, with an aura of both danger and command. A man not to be trifled with. His face is still youngish—mid-thirties, perhaps—but his eyes are ancient. Tired and bitter and heavy with the weight of ages, and abruptly Liam feels very, very young. 

“K-killian?” he ventures. 

Killian’s brow wrinkles in confusion that lasts an uncomfortable beat or two, and then it clears. His eyes widen. “Liam,” he breathes. “Is it really you?” 

“It’s me, brother.” Liam attempts a smile again. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Bloody hell.” 

Killian pulls him into a hug which he returns warmly, though the sound of curse words on his brother’s lips has stunned him. He smells of leather, and of the sea. And rum. Liam blinks through a fresh wave of astonishment. Killian has been drinking. Drinking rum. 

Killian pulls back from the hug but keeps his hand on Liam’s shoulder. His eyes are crinkled by a smile that Liam can’t help noticing barely touches the depth of sadness in them. “It’s good to see you, brother,” he says. 

“You’ve changed,” Liam blurts, then curses his impulsive tongue when the smile fades from his brother’s face. 

“Aye,” Killian says. “It’s been some time.” 

“Three hundred years, give or take,” Liam agrees. “How? How was it that long?” 

“Perhaps you’d better come in, Liam,” Killian says. He steps back and holds the door. “We’ve rather a lot to discuss.” 

-

Liam spends that first night in his brother’s house. Killian seems at a bit of a loss for what to do with himself in all the space and curiously reluctant to speak of why his afterlife has manifested such a dwelling just for him. Of course the dead don’t truly sleep, but Liam passes the night deep in thought, still in shock over what he’s learned about life his brother led. 

Killian is Captain Hook. A pirate. A man whose name Liam has heard in hushed whispers on the lips of many a soul who’s passed through this place. None of those whispers spoke of anything good. 

He cannot reconcile his little brother, even three hundred years of bitter loss and violent struggle later, as the cruel and vengeful villain of those tales. He cannot. It’s simply not possible. 

“Much of what they recounted was likely exaggerated,” Killian said wryly, “or hearsay. But I’ve done much I’m not proud of, Liam. I killed men without a second thought. I plundered lands across the realms. I have not led a good life.” 

“Then why are you here?” Liam demanded. “If you were as bad as all that, you wouldn’t end up in limbo.” 

“Perhaps I may have done enough in the past few years to warrant a chance at redemption,” Killian reflected. “I suppose we’ll see.” 

“And do you know what your unfinished business is?” 

Killian swallowed visibly, then nodded. “I believe I do.” 

-

Over the next week Liam keeps an eye on his brother. It’s not that he’s concerned—well, yes, it is that he’s concerned. There’s a restless energy to Killian that makes Liam uneasy, worried that he might do something rash. So he watches, from a distance, as Killian sets about finishing his business. He watches his brother seek out many of the men who bore the tales about him, those who still remain at least. He sees the fear in those men’s faces, and the anger. Sometimes he hears their voices, raised and vicious. It pains him to witness these things—not least the shame on Killian’s face—but he forces himself not to interfere. 

His brother is not a man to be trifled with. 

One day he observes Killian deep in conversation with a woman, dark-haired and statuesque. They stand close together in the manner of those who’ve shared a deep intimacy, and even from a distance he can see that they are crying. Killian pulls the woman into his arms where she weeps into his shoulder, and before they part he presses his lips to hers. 

It’s farewell. 

With every interaction Killian’s burden lessens, though he remains weighed down by things Liam can barely fathom. Each night they meet at the blue house, where they sit together and talk. They have three hundred years of catching up to do. As they talk Killian drinks, and Liam has begun to as well. He senses his brother could use company in more than conversation, and it’s not like alcohol can harm the dead. It doesn’t do them much good either, but the phantom rum seems to soothe Killian, and loosen his tongue. 

Though not enough, Liam comes to realise, for Killian to speak of why he’s really here. 

-

Her arrival sparks an uproar such as Liam has never experienced, even in all the time he’s passed in this place. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t be here. It’s not possible. 

Yet here she is. 

Word of it spreads like wildfire; Liam is polishing glasses at the bar where he inexplicably works when it reaches his ears. 

“They say she’s alive,” says one of the regulars, in hushed tones. “Alive, and here.” 

“That’s impossible,” Liam scoffs. “None of the living can come here. And even if they could why would they want to?” 

“She’s here to rescue someone,” the regular replies. “Her true love. That makes it possible, or so they say.” 

“And the man died in sacrifice,” another adds. “Huge sacrifice, before his time.” 

Before his time, Liam thinks. That should rule Killian out. Yet he can’t shake this feeling, this creeping suspicion born of Killian’s refusal to discuss how he died, or how he lived these past few years. There’s a reason this town is his afterlife, and Liam’s too. There’s a reason he’s alone in that big house. 

He sets the glass down, and the rag. “I have to go,” he says. 

-

It couldn’t be more obvious that the woman doesn’t belong. She’s visibly, ostentatiously alive, so full of life she glows. It draws the souls—ghoulishly, Liam thinks—but none dare approach too closely. The woman looks as though if anyone could kill a soul that’s already dead, it’s her. 

She heads down Main Street and Liam follows. Past the diner and the library, around the corner and up the street where Killian lives. A tight knot forms in Liam’s chest as she walks up to the blue house then stops, with her hand on the gate. 

The door flies open and Killian appears on the porch. He stares at the woman, who offers him a smile that strikes Liam as far too tremulous for her take-no-prisoners demeanour. 

“Swan,” Killian chokes. His voice sounds broken. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to save you,” the woman replies. She opens the gate and takes a few steps forward. Killian stumbles off the porch to close the distance between them. 

“You shouldn’t have come,” he says. “You shouldn’t be here, not here. Not you.” 

“I had to, Killian!” She looks up at him imploringly. “You shouldn’t have died like that. You shouldn’t have had to make that choice.” 

She takes his hand and laces their fingers tighter. Killian’s breath catches. “Come back with me, Killian. Come home.” 

“I can’t,” he whispers.

“You can. I know a way.” Her voice drops as she steps closer, but Liam can still hear her words. “Don’t try to make me live the rest of my life without you, Killian Jones,” she says. “I won’t do it.” 

“Swan—” 

“I won’t do it,” she repeats. “I love you.” 

Liam can see the moment Killian breaks. He snatches the woman into his arms, holds her tightly as she clings to him and magic twines palpably around them. This is not what he had with the brunette, Liam realises. That was love, yes, and intimacy. It was grief, deep and terrible but of a normal sort. 

This is agony. This is two souls that should never have been parted and the connection that still binds them, so powerful it can draw a living woman into the land of the dead. 

No wonder Killian couldn’t speak of her, Liam thinks, or of the circumstances of his death. The pain must have been too great. 

Liam’s been dead so long he’s forgotten how sensitive a subject it can be. 

The man died in sacrifice, he recalls. Huge sacrifice, before his time. 

He died for her. And now she’s here to bring him back. 

-

“This feels too soon,” Killian says, as he hugs Liam tight. “I only just found you again.” He pulls back and gives his brother a shrewd look. “And I sense that when I’m here again, you no longer will be.” 

“No,” Liam agrees. His business is finished now. And Killian’s not coming back, not to this place. Not if Emma Swan has anything to say about it. The next time Killian Jones dies it will be with his life’s purpose fully met. 

He’s glad they had this time, though, and not just because he needed it to move on. He’s glad he got to know his brother as a man, a flawed and troubled one, yes, but one who has goodness at his core and is finally where he needs to be. It only took three hundred years for him to get there. 

He’s also glad Killian is still shorter than he is, for all that Liam appears ten years younger than his brother now. He’s glad because he can still wrap his arm around Killian’s neck and ruffle his hair. He does so now, though Killian’s indignant “Oi!” of protest twists his heart. He sounds so like his younger self, that boy Liam spent centuries waiting for and will never see again. 

“I love you, little brother,” he whispers. 

Killian swallows hard, and nods. “I love you too.” 

[julesherondalex]

Hello! Have you read azriels pov? If so what are your thoughts?

Hi! 💕 Excuse the late reply but I took a week to read acosf and some more days to actually clear my head on this topic and come up with theories. Beware, this is a long post. Let's jump right into it. 🔎

My thoughts on the Az POV

The first thing coming to mind when I think of Azriel's POV is the fact that Az isn't in a very good place mentally right now. He's jealous, frustrated and angry. He doesn't sleep much and longs for someone while thinking it's so wrong. This only adds to his low self-esteem - he's feeling like he doesn't deserve Elain anyway, he's done "unspeakable things". He feels so low of himself that his presence taints Elain's. I feel like if we're reading his POV, we should keep this perspective in mind.

Now, when I first read the chapter, I'm not gonna lie, it felt wrong somehow. While I was hoping for the tiniest bit of elriel crumb, we got actual steam, sexual tension, and the confirmation that both are attracted to each other and Azriel thinks of Elain with longing and need. They've been exchanging glances and the occasional brush of their fingers and we clearly saw in acosf those encounters are somehow "charged". There has been something in the air for a long time. It's gotten to the point where Az seems to have forgotten Mor. (On a side note: I don't think he's ever addressed his feelings for Mor so unless he does that, I don't believe he's truly done with the Mor chapter, sadly.) The POV had all this Elriel confirmation, the steamy scene, Rhys ordering Azriel to stay away, the Gwyn scene and the regifting.

At first, I was livid with the POV because at face value it reads...not good for elriel and twisted all the softness, fateful, healthy moments into something that is pure lust and just...obsessive. Unhealthy. All of this is - intentionally - contrasted quite well with how Azriel feels in the Gwyn scenes. Yeah, I was disappointed as. hell. and feared for my ship.

Then, I came on here and talked to my friends, my mutuals, and voila - I'm definitely feeling better, safe in my bet for elriel again. As safe as it gets with us not knowing Sarah's plans 😅

The thing is, I don't believe the POV should be read at face value. We/I automatically assumed there's a romantic connection between Az and Gwyn - which might very well be set up - but in reality, we also only have a single scene they talked to each other and had an understanding, it seems. Okay. But this could also be platonic given they've known each other for months and it didn't mean anything all this time.

However what makes me hold on to my hope for elriel is the fact we have 4 books full of foreshadowing. Sarah began laying crumbs for the sisters' stories in acomaf, and since then, we had lots of moments in favor of Elriel. I feel like it wouldn't make good storytelling if all of this were thrown away with a single POV, and certainly not the instance a new side character pops up and has a understanding with one of them.

With the POV, Sarah actually set up lots of things and the plainest being: ANGST. For Heaven's sake, I was so sure elriel was going to be endgame from all we got till acosf that maybe Sarah knew and wanted to shake things up. Without angst the next book would've been boring, right? We know (and after acosf it seems even more clear) that Elain has no interest in Lucien or the mating bond whatsoever. Are we really thinking that in her story Elain will magically realize she's been silly this entire time and everyone else was right, having a mate is wonderful and she'll get together with him? Don't get me wrong, I would absolutely love them getting along and being bffs. It hurts me so much what Lucien must go through. But I just don't think Elain will get together with Lucien romantically. The bond rejection has been set up for a long while. In my opinion, there's no way the bond will be accepted. Acosf only made this clearer, but we've been also saying this before acosf.

With Gwyn as a potential love interest, sjm brought in the unexpected, and quite frankly, successfully made us (me) panic. And now I think that's what it was supposed to do. I think the Azriel POV was meant to set up the forbidden romance trope, steamy scenes between Elain and Az (the virginity comment by Nesta during acosf hasn't been for nothing y'all!), jealousy and misunderstandings.

Now, we get that steamy scene and I don't think there's anything wrong with it beyond Azriel's thoughts of how lowly he sees himself. Up until that point in Rhys' office, there wasn't anything truly problematic with the scene in terms of elriel. They are attracted to each other, and both wanted to act on it.

The Rhys conversation was what put things off at first glance. Made it seems like it was purely lust for Az. All the talk of Rhys thinking Az thinks he deserves to be Elain's mate. For the record, only a minute ago Az didn't even believe he deserved to touch her. Her presence tainted by his. For the life of me, he doesn't think he deserves to be Elain's mate. Come on. Not Az. That assumption is OOC.

He does question the mating bond between Elain and Lucien and whether the Cauldron might have been wrong. He questions how that aligns with the fate of the Archeron sisters with the Illyrian brothers. That's entirely different and valid, if you ask me.

What I will say is that the regifting was bad. It was an asshole move and I don't believe for a second that neither female would be okay with it. So why did he do what he did? He would know it to be a shitty thing to do. There are a few options here that come to my mind: 1) he enjoyed the moment with Gwyn, whether romantically or platonic, and decided to make her happy with the necklace (but then again, if Gwyn knew where it came from, I bet my ass she wouldn't have accepted it) 2) Az wants to stir shit up, kick something off - which might happen if Elain ever sees Gwyn wearing her necklace. It might give him the opportunity to speak up and talk to Elain. 3) Az isn't ready to let go of the necklace - therefore of Elain - and he can't bear to give it back. He can't let Elain go that easily. Keeping it might hurt too much, so he regifts it to Gwyn out of a hunch.

I'll leave it to you to add to this list and decide which one is the most probable option but I think we all know I'm going with 3) because it makes absolute sense to me even though it's shitty (but all of the options are tbh). Az would never give a potential love interest he's serious with a gift he's given to another female who rejected him. Duh. Gwyn also deserves better than that.

Let's sum up:

We have Azriel who's feeling shitty right now, frustrated with fate and his endless longing for mutual love. He can't have what he wants with Elain and it manifests in the bond between her and Lucien. He can't bear it, yet Elain seems to bring him back from his obsessive longing for Mor. Rhys orders Az to stay away from Elain, and unwittingly sets up the forbidden romance trope (thank you for that Rhysie). With Gwyn coming into this, it distantly seems like we have a love quartet, but also a set up for misunderstandings and jealousy. I feel like Sarah is cackling with delight because she got to us so easily with her messy Az POV. She knows what she's doing y'all.

What do I expect from the next book?

I expect forbidden lovers, and surrender. I expect misunderstandings and jealousy. I expect a rejected bond, or an Unmade bond. I expect a grand, epic arc of choice and deciding ones own fate. The themes of choice and fate even find their ways into this Azriel POV. It's Az who points them out. Again, I think Sarah knows what she's doing, and she'll give us some grand scenes and I believe elriel has the best chance to deliver them.

Could I be wrong with all of this? Sure. Could Elriel be doomed to sink with the Az POV? Maybe. All I'm saying is that we have so much foreshadowing and a grandiose set up of angst, we have an overall scheme of choice and we have a pairing that would, simply by getting together, decide their own fate against all odds. And at this point, there are lots of odds against them. If this doesn't make the perfect set up for their story, I don't know what does! 💙

Before anyone comes for me, I will say that I love Gwyn and absolutely adore Lucien. I think they're both great, so no shade for them. If you ship any of these with Elain or Azriel, go ahead and do you! This is just my opinion and I would love anyone sharing your thoughts!! It's so exciting that this fandom is alive again lol. 👌🏼😁

On another note: Thank you to @rhysanoodle, @high-lady-elains and @silver-flames for keeping me sane and providing your theories. A lot of this came from discussing with them and reading their posts. 💙

[jksofficialwifey]

Royal Spies and Everything Nice

Summary: It's hard being a princess who's also an undercover spy, but with the help of your rival and sort of boyfrienemy Prince Jeon, maybe you'll make it through alive.

Tags & warnings: fluff, angst, some violence, just beware- jk. Rivals2luvers, some shrek characters make an appearance cos i smoke cracK das wut i smoke. Smut in the end, a lil cussing etc.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Commissioned for @nochusyn 💋 tysm for being so patient ilyyy and im so happy i didn't d13 so i could finish this! Shsh xx (if y'all wanna commission me just message me here on tumblr!)

Wc: 10k+++

A/N: I almost di3d writing this so pls read it n check it out char- begging? Lol jk. But fr, I was so sick with 39.5 fevers and I didn't even know when i would finish it but I'm so happy I finally did today! This is also like a late jk bday present. Ily all and JK always! 💜

Once upon a time in the futuristic land of Royalea, a secret spy academy was made for royals to train and become professional spies. After years of suffering from invaders and having their kin kidnapped and slain by the same invader rebels, the royals wanted to put a stop to it all, they wanted to protect their children, their future heirs.

They had learned from their past mistakes and devised a plan to become stronger. They strictly trained their children at a young age to help in preparing them to face all kinds of enemies. So that when the time comes, they will be able to protect themselves. They won't be the ones cowering in fear, feeling helpless and begging for mercy at the hands of their enemies.

They will be the ones invading other lands and eradicating anyone who threatens to come in their way. That is how they innovated their land. With their newfound courage and mindset. Within just a few years of establishing the academy, they had the latest gadgets and technology the neighboring countries would envy. Their princes and princesses trained brilliant in combat. To them, it didn't make their heirs any less poised and graceful just because they knew how to fight. Those times are done, and they knew what was most important having witnessed the chaotic events that happened before.

Although most of them thought that- not everyone did. A few royals still wanted to live the traditional way, they preferred to raise their royal children by the book and with grace, as they say. They reasoned that their heirs' responsibilities were to lead a land, not play as guards. They were curious about the superb technology their land had now, but they limited their use of it. Your parents were one of those traditional royals.

The queen was about to enjoy the morning's prepared feast, when she caught you in the corner of her eye wearing a cloak heading for the door. You were probably planning to sneak out before breakfast again. "Y/N, come back here dear. You were trying to sneak out again right? Where have you been running off to these days? I hope it's not where I think it is, because I've told you not to go there-" The queen had ranted but you cut her off. "It's not where you think it is okay? But even if it was, why won't you let me go anyway? How will I be safe If I don't know how to defend myself?"

"You know why we forbid you to go to that place. You're safer here. You don't need to become a brute to be safe. That's why there are guards to protect you, you have your own knight Hoseok to protect you-" The queen rambled and explained only to be interrupted by you again. "Well I don't want to just rely on the guards and my knight, your majesty. I wanna be able to protect myself whenever and wherever. You say I'm safer here, but you can't always assure that. I don't know why you won't just let me be a-" It was the queen's turn to interrupt you, "And I don't know why you keep on insisting to disrespect and disobey me. Don't finish that sentence or you'll regret it princess. Actually, If you won't listen to me then maybe you'd be better off inside your room the whole day. Guards, please escort Princess Y/N to her room and make sure she doesn't leave the palace."

"This is so unfair! Why are you doing this to me?" You exclaimed. "You know why, my child. It's because I only want to keep you safe. I'm doing this for you so don't dare to disobey me again, or you might have to stay in your tower for a year again." The queen warned. You didn't bother to retort anymore, it was futile.

You were bored, your breakfast was sent to your room but you didn't have the appetite to eat. You were supposed to be assigned to a new mission today, it just sucks that your mother had seen you on the way out. All of it sucked. This castle you're in, your mother, (though you loved her deeply, she can sometimes be so difficult and strict.) everyone on this planet, Prince Jeon, wait… Jeon Jungkook. That's it! Maybe if his panties aren't in a twist today- maybe he can help you get out. It won't hurt to try though, so that's what you decided to do. You took your phone and messaged him.

To Agent 🐰: 9:18 am

Hey bunny I need your help.

To Agent 🦊 princess: 9:19 am

And why should I help you? 🤔

To Agent 🐰: 9:20 am

Because I'm stuck here and I can't fight you if I can't get out. So come here and get me 😜

To Agent 🦊 princess: 9:21 am

Touché. But what's the magic word princess? 😉 you need to say it.

To Agent 🐰: 9:22 am

Ughh. Fr? Fine. Pls help me my furry prince and hurryyyy.

To Agent 🦊 princess: 9:23 am

I'm otw my princess. And for the Nth time I told you I'm not a furry!

Jungkook arrived to the palace after a while, the queen was always delighted to see his presence. "Prince Jungkook, It's a pleasure to see you. If you don't mind me asking, what brings you here today?" the queen inquired. "It's a pleasure to see you too your majesty. I actually came here to see Princess Y/N, is she busy?" Jungkook said albeit knowing you were stuck in your room.

"Oh not really. Let me ask the maids to get her for you."

"Um, if you don't mind your majesty, I can just go into her room myself. If that's okay?" Jungkook asked. "Of course that's okay dear. You know where her room is right?" Jungkook nodded.

Jungkook was taking a little too long, you thought. If only you had another choice, you wouldn't conspire with that annoying prince. After a few seconds, you heard someone knocking on your door. Could it be him? "Jungkook is that you?" you inquired. "No, I'm not Jungkook miss. I'm just your friendly neighborhood spiderman." you opened the door and there stood the handsome ebony haired prince. "Spiderman your ass, what took you so long? I've been waiting here for ages!" You whined. "Sorry princess, I did try to hurry a little for you. Anyway, what's the plan?" The prince said as he sat and made himself comfortable in your bed.

"Hmm. I was thinking maybe you could convince my mother to let me go out with you today," You looked at him directly, trying to convey what your plan is with your eyes. "Even though I'm supposed to be grounded. Maybe you could tell her that we're gonna practice archery, or we're gonna conquer other lands, whatever just do your thing. As gross as it is and I don't know why but, she's quite fond of you so- help me get out of here." Jungkook stares at you and notices how your long brown wavy hair falls over your face. He always thought your hairstyle matched perfectly to your face. You were actually kind of perfect to him. But he'll never tell you that of course, even if you or someone threatened to kill him.

"And what do I get by helping you princess?" He smirked. He loved teasing you and making you irritated, he thought it was kind of cute how your face would turn red from anger after he irritated the shit out of you and when you get flustered. Everytime he teased you he couldn't help but think you were sort of cute. "You can get the satisfaction of me letting you get more points on the top spies leaderboard." You replied smartly.

"As if you'd let me do that without chewing my ear off. Please give me something that's actually factual."

"Fine. Hmm, how about me promising not to insult you for a week even if you annoy the hell out of me?" You suggested smiling a little manipulatively at him. "Eh, that's lame. How about you do me a dare and maybe I'll agree to your planposal." He retorted and smirked arrogantly. You hated when he smiled like that, he's always so cocky and just because he looked handsome as hell- not that you'll admit it out loud ever, doesn't mean you'll fall for his insufferable cute ass. Wait did you just say handsome and cute? Ew. You meant evil. Yes that's what you meant… Anyway.

"Please don't say planposal ever again," You rolled your eyes at him. "Regardless, it depends on what the dare is. If you want me to run around naked and flash the whole kingdom then that's not gonna happen baby." You told him strictly.

"Don't worry princess, as satisfying that concept is for me, I don't wanna be the cause of blindness and curse the whole land." What the heck did he mean? Did he just insult me? "Whatever, Jeon. Just tell me what you want." You demanded.

"I want you." What? Did his last tiny brain cell die and now he's talking nonsense?

"What?" you replied flustered by his weird statement.

"I want you to do this mission for me. That's my dare. Why are you flustered though? Did you think about something else?" He taunted and smirked again, It's like he never stops being cocky when he's around you.

"Of course not. I'm not delusional like you. And what mission is it that you can't seem to do it yourself? Is Prince Jeon a little scared?"

"I'm not scared. It's just no fun to do it myself when I can have my princess to do it for me. That's my condition though if you want me to help you get out of here. I'll help you escape, and you'll help me when you're out. Is it a deal?"

"Hmm, tell me what mission is it and maybe I'll agree." You proposed. "You'll know when you do it, so I'm not telling you right now. Also, I want you to do another little thing for me." He grinned evilly. You have a feeling you're gonna hate him even more for what he's about to make you do. Nevertheless you agreed, if that meant he'd help you get away from your mother today. [INSERT PIC]

You were finally able to get out of the palace thanks to Jeon Jungkook's annoying face. You don't know how he charmed your mother, but at least she bought the act that the two of you were practicing your archery skills. You got what you wanted, but at the cost of your ego. You couldn't believe you actually praised Jeon Jungkook in public and embarrassed yourself on social media. Anyhow, the two of you were now on the way to the academy riding your respective monocycles. (the ones the guys in Men in Black used to ride, if you've seen the movie.)

It didn't take long for you to arrive, and before the other royal spies could see that you two came together, you already told Jungkook to maintain some distance beforehand, and act as if you didn't just hangout awhile ago.

You parked your monocycle and just as you were about to go inside the academy, you noticed how Jeon Jungkook gathered the attention of some girls and even boys too. Maybe it was the way his hair still looked perfect and fluffy in the wind, or the way he walked so gracefully just how a prince should. Either way, you couldn't deny how popular he was. He was every prince/princess' dream guy. No one could resist him, and maybe you couldn't too, maybe that's why you loathe him a lot.

In Prince Jungkook's defense, it wasn't his fault he was born so damn beautiful. He didn't pretend that he didn't notice the stares and the attention people gave him. But he also wasn't so cocky about it. He was still quite humble if he might say, and he was a shy guy too. He didn't actually care about everyone's attention, well maybe except one. It was still confusing to him how you always thought he was cocky because he was popular, as if you weren't cocky and popular too? He wondered if you noticed the other princes gawking at you when you walk by, or the insecure princesses rolling their eyes because they can't be you. You weren't even just a princess, you were one of the best spies in the academy too.

You were practicing your knife throwing skills when you noticed a presence beside you.

"Go on continue, don't mind my gorgeous presence here." He said.

"What are you doing here Jeon? And what do you want? I'm busy," you retorted. "I just wanted to remind you about our deal princess. The mission I want you to do, it's at 1800. Just wanted you to be ready."

"I'm always ready Jeon."

"I know but you might need a good luck from me personally for this one, that's why I came to see you before you go. Good luck my princess, be safe." He said and left you wondering if the mission was truly as dangerous as he hinted.

♡

It turned out that the mission was quite harder than you expected. You had to overthrow a mad king, but not just any mad king- he was a retired superspy too. It didn't help that his army were giant killer robots, and although you've trained at a young age, it was still a little difficult to defeat them alone. You understand now why Jungkook made you do this mission, it was a trap.

That insufferable prince- he'll see when you get out of this hell hole, if you get out of here alive he'll really get his ass kicked. "Ballsacks!" you cursed as you barely dodged the laser beam the giant robot just shot at you. You were debating now if you should call reinforcements but you didn't wanna lower your pride for him even more. You didn’t wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing you're failing this mission.

Just as you thought you were gonna get crushed by one of the ginormous robots- to your surprise, the nasty thing got blown into bits.

"I knew these bubblegum bombs would come in handy someday," the voice spoke. "It's really unprofessional of you to leave your gadgets behind princess. You should be thankful I decided to bring them here to you." Of course it was the insufferable agent rabbit.

"What are you doing here Jeon?" you inquired rudely.

"What does it look like I'm doing Y/N? I'm saving your ass from getting killed." he retorted, and you were taken aback when he called you by your first name. It was a rule that agents should call each other by their codenames, you wondered if he forgot about that. "How dare you call me by my name! You know that isn't allowed. Call me by my codename you idiot, and I don't need you to save me, I can save myself thank you very much." You retorted.

"You called me by my name first! Whatever, and sure you can, you were obviously not about to get crushed just five minutes ago. I didn't even get a sincere thanks from you 'cause in case you forgot, just like how you forgot your gadgets, I saved you princess." he said snarkily. "Well, I didn't ask you to, but fine thanks a lot! I'm so grateful you saved me. Happy now?" So what if he saved your ass this time, it's not like he saved the world? And you were only in this predicament because of him anyway. This was his mission and he made you do it, maybe it was your fault for underestimating the mission hence, you only brought a few gadgets- but that's not even such a big deal. So why is he blaming you and making such a fuss about this? You really despised his ass.

"That still sounds so insincere princess, but sure I'll accept that, we have bigger robots to fry right now anyway-"

"Don't stop attacking them annihilate them fast!" The mad king exclaimed as he instructed his gigantic robots to attack the two of you even harder. You heard his minions reply and called him Agust, maybe that was his name. Jungkook and you were hiding at this point, their attacks were getting stronger and you really needed to finish this mission fast but that's still a problem for now. Luckily Jungkook thought of a plan, and he decided you should use the remaining bubblegum bombs to destroy all the massive robots, but you had to chew the gums first before blowing it on them.

You blew the last one on the king and successfully eradicated his existence for good. It was satisfying to defeat him albeit it wasn't that easy.

"Ugh, finally we can go home now." Jungkook whined. "Yeah, mayhaps I can't believe we could work as a team." You added. "A team? I did all the work though? Without me you'd probably be-" you cut him off, "Yeah sure, whatever but I still helped blow the gum bombs! Anyway, we better leave now my mother's probably worried."

"I would be too, if I had a daughter like you." he remarked. "What's that supposed to mean Jeon?" You glared at him. "Oh nothing, nothing my princess." there he goes again smirking like a cocky idiot. Gross. He didn't even stop grinning when you rode your monocycles all the way home.

~♡~

"Prince Jeon, Princess Y/N, It's late. What took you so long?" The King inquired. You were surprised to say the least that it wasn't your mother, the queen who was waiting for you when you arrived. "Sorry if I took her out so long your majesty, we decided to visit my kingdom after practicing archery and got distracted. We didn't realize the sun had already set when we were done, my apologies." Jungkook smoothly reasoned.

"It's fine, next time just don't stay out too late. Though Y/N dear, what happened to your dress? It's as dirty as a peasant! Is that how a princess should behave and carry herself? You're lucky your mother isn't here and on an emergency meeting right now, or you'll be grounded for life!" Your father added. "Dad I-" you were about to defend yourself and explain when Jungkook cut you off.

"It's actually my fault, your majesty. Please don't blame Princess Y/N. We were playing at the castle, and mayhaps we had too much fun. I apologize again, your majesty." Jungkook looked at you in a conspiring way, as if to tell you to ride along with his story. "Very well. You should stop apologizing son, accidents can happen." Wow. Your father didn't get mad at the obnoxious rabbit prince, but he got mad at you, how fracking fair. It's totally fine. You truly felt great. "Although you both should always be mindful of how you look and your actions, you are royalty after all." The king added.

"Of course dad, even though I didn't ask to be born like this…" You quipped, voice lowering a little as you finished saying it. "What did you say Y/N?" "Nothing dad, can I go eat dinner now? I'm hungry as heck. Bye Jeon, have a safe trip on the way home." You told Jungkook and were already heading to the dining area when your father decided to say something that stopped you from going there completely, "Mind your language dear, also it's truly quite late, aren't you starving Prince Jungkook?" The king inquired, staring at Jungkook to check his reaction. "Um, It's late your majesty I should be heading home, and I don't know if Princess Y/N wants me to eat with her…" You glared at him and mouthed 'What the fck Jeon? You frackin pig!' well obnoxiously he looked like a rabbit with his big bunny teeth, but the way he was acting now- he was like a starving pig. The king ignored what Jungkook said and told him, "Nonsense boy! I'm sure Princess Y/N will be delighted to have you join us for dinner. I already ate actually, but I'd love to join you both for dinner again I could get some snack- you can't always have enough snacks!" The king exclaimed enthusiastically.

"But dad-" you try to dissuade him to no avail, "No buts my lovely daughter, Prince Jungkook will be joining us for dinner. You should probably change your clothes before you eat dinner, Jungkook and I will head to the dining room first. Come along now Jungkook," The king beckoned as Jungkook followed him to the dining room. You were planning to have a peaceful dinner tonight, but of course Jeon Jungkook would ruin that as fracking always. When will he ever stop annoying you?

You went to your room begrudgingly, and changed into some casual clothes that were still appropriate for dinner but also for having an annoying guest eating with you. After a short while, you finally joined them to eat. You sat beside Jungkook and your father was at the center of the table. It wouldn't have been awkward if your father didn't start to ask obnoxious questions.

"So Prince Jeon, what have you been up to these days? Searching for potential wife candidates?" The king inquired. You glared at your father. Jungkook almost choked on a piece of steak he was eating, but he managed to answer after drinking some water. "Uh, I've been busy with my duties your majesty. Ensuring the safety of my people and thinking of ways to stop the remaining rebels. I haven't really had the time to look for potential wife candidates."

"Oh. It's good to hear that you prioritize the safety of your people Prince Jeon. But you're not getting any younger. Soon enough, you'll need a good wife to be your future queen and help you lead the kingdom. Do you have anyone in mind right now?" The king probed. "Dad- stop being so nosy." You said, annoyed and a little embarrassed. "I'm not, I'm just asking the boy if he has an idea or a person in mind to be his future queen. So do you, Prince Jeon?"

"Um- as I've said your majesty, I'm too busy to think about marriage right now. I'm still young though, so I'm not that in a hurry to get married." Jungkook replied a little uncomfortable but still respectful. "That's comprehensible. I think Y/N here," Your father said while looking at you, "is the same too."

"Although, I have someone in mind for her already." The king announced, making Jungkook feel something weird inside him. Jungkook wondered what the king meant- or who he meant? For some crazy reason, he can't imagine you marrying someone. Or someone else… Of course not that he wants to marry you! But- maybe it wouldn't be so bad at all too. "Okay, this conversation is over dad," You told the king. "We're done eating and Jungkook has to go home, so goodbye everyone I'm going to my room now." You stood up and went to your room in a hurry.

"But Y/N I'm not done talking you brat! I still haven't finished this delicious croissant-" The king quipped disappointedly. "She's quite a disrespectful brat sometimes, I wonder who she got it from- forgive my daughter Jeon."

"It's okay your majesty, I was about to leave too. I'll be going now if you don't mind-"

"Wait-" Jungkook stood up and sat again because of what the king said. "I hope you're not mad at her, she really is a little hard to handle." The king looked at him pitifully, "Oh, I'm not your majesty. Though I won't disagree with you on that statement- about her being hard to handle I mean…" he joked.

"Yes, she is quite stubborn. But I'm sure you can handle her quite well." Jungkook was confused again, what did your father mean? "I'm sorry your majesty, I don't really get what you're trying to say?" The king looked him in the eye gleefully and said, "I'm saying, I like you- for her. I think the both of you would make a perfect match." Jungkook blushed, oh. So that's what he meant.

"Don't you agree Prince Jeon?" The king teased him further. "I-... Yes I suppose so, your majesty." He shyly replied. It would be rude to disagree, or say awful stuff. "That is- if you're not secretly a couple yet, are you not?"

"No!" Jungkook replied a little too loud. "I meant- no we aren't yet your majesty. We're not secretly seeing each other…" he backtracked, calmer now. "Oh, you aren't yet. That's alright, the two of you are still young- there's still a lot of time. We're just excited for your wedding and to see our grandchildren! But all in God's perfect timing- anyway sorry for keeping you here, have a safe trip home Prince Jeon! Hopefully you'll be calling me dad soon." The king whispered the last bit as Jungkook was finally on his way out of the palace, but he still heard it to his dismay, and it didn't help in making the forming blush on his cheeks go away. The thought of getting married with you isn't so appalling to him- but having kids right away… it was weird to think about. The whole conversation was weird to think about and yet it was the most constant thing on his mind the whole night.

~💜~

You were lucky the queen was still on an important meeting as you made your way out of the palace, or so you thought- when your father, the king shouted your name in your lawn. Of course he made you go back to your room, and unless you had important things to do outside you won't be able to go out. And because of that, you resorted to call the bunny prince for help again. So now, you're waiting for him to be your knight in shining armor and take you away from the palace again. After an hour of agony, he finally arrived and managed to convince your father with a shitty excuse to let you go with him. If you weren't seeing things, you might've thought they were whispering some secret information to each other. Your parents always looked like they were so elated to see that prince in the palace. Your dad was being weird now too. Men are such eerie creatures, you thought.

"Hey Jeon. What were you whispering about to my dad a while ago?" You called to him as you rode your speedy monocycles. "What?" Mayhaps he didn't hear you, as the wind gushed too loud. "I said- nevermind." You didn't bother to ask him what they talked about anymore, maybe it didn't matter anyway. You were nearing the academy, and you parked your monocycle right away when you arrived. Not bothering to look at him and see his fangirls flocking over him again.

You were practicing with throwing your dart knives when you overheard a girl and a familiar someone talking. "Baby! You're always so hot and perfect! you're on the top spies leaderboard again, marry me please!" Her rat-like voice annoyed you, so you decided to stare at her in hopes that she'll feel a little embarrassed at least. But to no avail, she only continued her mouth breathing sentiments."I don't mean to be rude Princess Fiona, but I'm not ready to get married right now." or ever with you, Jungkook wanted to add- but he only did in his mind.

And of course, the cause of this headache inducing fiasco is no other than Prince Jungkook, why are you even surprised? Why can't they be annoying somewhere else? Probably a million miles away from you? "Oh, I don't mean right away silly. Maybe in a few weeks or months? I just know we're meant to be my prince." Gawd, you're actually praying for her future husband. Hopefully he can stand her annoying rat-ogre voice. "I'm sorry Fiona, I really think I'm not the right guy for you. Although I heard Lord Farquaad seemed to have feelings for you." Jungkook suggested. "What? Lord Farquaad? Ew, he's a midget gross. Is that why you won't marry me? Are you jealous baby? You don't have to be!" she squealed and giggled, you had to stop yourself for aiming at her face, it wasn't the knife's fault and you were against animal cruelty anyway.

"No," Jungkook sighed, she wasn't getting it. "I'm not jealous. I just think you're better off with Lord Farquaad, and I'm better with…"

"Better with who? Oh please tell me Prince Jeon who's better with you rather than I?" She seemed to look around at other girls, hoping to find the answer to her question when Jungkook still couldn't reply. She only stopped when she noticed you looking at her too, so you looked away from her and turned your attention on a laser gun that was displayed instead. You were planning to tune them out fully, when she spoke something that triggered something in you. Something you didn't quite like.

"When you said you were better off with someone else, did you mean to say you were better off with someone like Princess Y/N? Are you serious Prince Jeon? She's not even that pretty, or that great of a spy." Hearing her utter those ill-founded words made your blood boil, how dare she point out your flaws and insecurity? You were already one of the best spies, yet you still trained to be a better spy everyday, even if you being a spy was against your parents' wishes- maybe that's why you couldn't control your next actions- you threw one of the dart knives at her direction.

Lucky for her, it missed her face by a centimeter. Actually, if you wanted to hit her you could've, but you just wanted to shut her up. And shut her up you did. She was too shocked to speak at first, too in awe at what happened. Until she regained her senses and confronted the perpetrator. "You! Y/N how dare you try to impale my face with that dirty knife! My father will hear about this!" she pointed at you looking mad and ogre-like at the same time.

"Oh stop being too dramatic Fiona, maybe it was an accident, I'm sure Y/N didn't mean to throw it at you." Jungkook said glancing your way, though it looked more like he was trying to save your ass rather than comfort the ogre like princess. "But I did though Jungkook. I meant to aim it at her to shut her up," You replied looking Fiona directly in the eyes. "See Jungkook? She didn't even deny it!" she exclaimed.

"Which I only did because of what you spoke about me. You had the audacity to insult and slander me, yet you got scared of almost getting what you deserved. Please Princess Fiona save it for someone who cares, it's not me or Jungkook but mayhaps another ogre does." You kept your knives and walked away from them. "Come back here you bitch! You still have to pay for almost murdering me!" she screamed wanting to follow you, but Jungkook held her back from doing so.

"Fiona stop harassing Y/N. You won't follow her nor will you continue to insult her, if you as much touch her hair or be near her- you'll be hearing from me. And I also won't hesitate to tell your father about what you're doing." Jungkook reprimanded her and left the fuming princess to follow after you.

Jungkook found you at another training station trying some new gadget that was actually quite useful to distract and even escape rebels, if you were in a hurry. You didn’t seem to notice him yet or you pretended not to, so he made his presence known by speaking first.

"That seems really handy, you could totally make use of that a lot when needing an escape for extremely hard missions." You were still ignoring him so he spoke again. "Not saying you always escape hard missions-" You interrupted him. "Then what are you saying Jeon? Just because I needed a little help from you on that difficult mission, doesn't mean I'll always need someone or something to save me. For the record, I don't always rely on gadgets to defeat enemies, I've successfully completed a lot of missions without them."

"I know that Y/N, I'm just trying to give you some advice." he retorted. "More like you're trying to prove to me that you're always right."

"But aren't I babe? I'm indeed always right,"

"Don't call me that, hearing you call me it just gave me a disease." You chided. "Oh really? I bet you secretly like it though, just like you like me." He boasted. "Wait what? Where did that come from? Are you on crack or did your last brain cell finally decided to leave you?" How dare he assume and say such horrendous things? He's probably hallucinating or something.

"Excuse me I don't do crack, but you don't have to deny it. I get it you're shy, and you were jealous of Fiona that's why you acted up a while ago-" he's truly insufferable. "Me Jealous? Please don't delude yourself, wake up from that dream it isn't healthy." You wanted to leave his delusional ass once more, but he prevented you from doing that when he cornered you to a wall and got too close for comfort. "I can prove it you know, that you're jealous," He was breathing hotly on your face, staring deeply into your eyes and slowly, he seemed to inch his face closer to yours- as if planning to steal a taste of your lips, you were so flustered that you decided to close your eyes. Waiting and kind of hoping to feel his soft lips on yours, but it never came.

Because just before Jungkook could kiss you, you heard someone cough, and the both of you decided to break apart from each other. "Ehem. Agent Y/N and Agent JK, I'm going to assign mission partners, you should both probably be at the assembly hall so you don't miss it." Your instructor said looking at the two of you weirdly. You both awkwardly looked at him back and nodded.

💜

"Agent Fiona and Agent Farquaad, you'll be partners for this mission and probably the succeeding ones too." Your instructor announced, Fiona grimaced seemingly disappointed with who her partner was but not bothering to say anything. Meanwhile, Farquaad had a smile on his face as he was partnered with the gal he liked. When your turn came, you couldn't believe the luck you just had to be partnered with the guy you wanted to avoid the most.

"Agent Y/N and Agent JK, you’ll be partners for this mission and the succeeding ones, as you both are the best spies in this academy." Your instructor said with gleam in his eyes. Did he plan this? Did he think you and Jungkook got along well because of what he almost saw a while ago? What the hell? What is he doing? You were having an internal monologue, as you were still having a hard time processing the fact that you'll have to spend more time with annoying Prince Jungkook again. You couldn't believe it, you wouldn't. Your mental breakdown was interrupted by someone's disgustingly familiar voice speaking to you,

"So, partners huh? I'd say I'm glad to be partnered by a top spy in our academy, but I'm not really sure I am. Maybe 'cause I loathe it as much as you do?" You glared at him. "As if I'll be partners with you," you retorted and stormed off to find your instructor to plead with him.

"Um. Excuse me sir, can I please switch partners?" you pleaded to your instructor when you found him. "Agent Y/N… I'm sorry, but I chose your partners for a reason. Also, Agent JK is one of the best spy princes. I don't understand why you don't wanna be partners with him?" He replied.

"I know sir, but- we just don't get along that well, and actually, I think I can handle a mission on my own just fine." you explained. "I'm one of the best spies as you've said, and we all know that's true so… Please?"

"I'm really sorry Agent Y/N, but my decision is final. Your partner is Agent JK, and if you have problems with each other right now, then hopefully this mission will help you guys resolve it, and make you feel closer." Your instructor paused for a bit, you didn't know why but he was seemingly and suddenly in deep thought. "If you don't mind me asking and I don't mean to be nosy, but are you guys having a lovers quarrel or something?" he inquired.

"W-what? Of course not sir! Me and him lovers? Not in this lifetime. Why did you even think of that if I may ask?" you were flustered but curious. Did your instructor think of that because of what he saw a while ago? You didn't even know what truly transpired between you and Jungkook in that moment, you just knew that it felt right and wrong at the same time. "I think you realize that I saw you both a while ago, you two were pretty close to each other. I just thought you might be dating. It's a little disappointing that you aren't but that's okay." you fought another blush that threatened to show in your cheeks because of what your instructor said.

"But sir- why would it be disappointing?" you asked dumbly. "It's a little disappointing because you two look great together. You're both compatible in my opinion," he said looking at you seriously. "You're both top spies, both popular within the academy and even outside of it, you're both competitive, but you complement each other. Should I tell you more?" you didn't know if he was asking rhetorically or if he really wanted you to answer that question, so you just looked at the walls of the academy instead. But you also thought about what he said, did you and Jungkook really complement each other?

"If you don't have anymore questions Agent YN, I'll be going now. I still have some tasks to do, but remember that I'm rooting for both of you." he smiled at you knowingly, and your instructor went back to his room. Whether he meant that in regards to you both being spies, or the concept of you and Jungkook dating, mayhaps it was both- you didn’t know. But you were more scared than curious to ponder about it and find out.

You still went home together with Jungkook despite of the awkward air around the two of you, even if you didn't wanna be partners with him mayhaps you didn't have any choice, so why bother complaining about it anymore. You both chose to stay silent during the ride on the way home, not really talking until you arrived at the palace.

👑

"You got home late again. What have you both been doing that's taking up your whole time and day?" The king inquired immediately when you both arrived. "Dad- we were just…" You replied until Jungkook cut you off again, he seemed to be doing that frequently these days.

"We were just hanging out as usual your majesty. Actually- we're hanging out too much because…" Jungkook hesitantly took a peek in your direction, "Because- we're dating." what in the name of crippled hairy ballsacks is he on now? Mayhaps he's really lost it and now cursing you.

"What the hell are you talking about Jeon?" you yelled and glared at him. He looked like he was trying to talk to you telepathically with his eyes, because he obviously can't do it with his mind. "Y/N- can you just play along-" he whispered to you. Your father wasn't all too happy with the way you screamed and cursed though, so he reprimanded you again. "Princess Y/N! Your language!" he also yelled brows furrowed in disappointment. "Have you forgotten your manners? A princess doesn't act like a tasteless fool!" he chided, you ignored him and pretended that you didn’t hear him. You just wanted to go to your room and disappear forever.

"And you Prince Jeon, is what you're saying the truth?" The king said as he looked at Jungkook pointedly. "Are you and Y/N truly dating? Why haven't you told us this? When did you both even start seeing each other?"

"Your majesty I can explain. Please don't be furious at us- or at least at Y/N that much-" Jungkook reasoned. "We wanted to keep it a secret for a while, as we were afraid of your reaction."

"Well aren't you afraid now? You just confessed your relationship in front of me." The king said. "We still are. Though I thought maybe you needed to know now, because secrets aren't meant to be kept forever." Jungkook explained.

"And is that truly the reason why you keep visiting Princess Y/N here and having all your rendezvous?" The king inquired again. "Well obviously dad, didn't you hear what he said?" You retorted smartly. You decided you were going to go with whatever this ballsack show Jungkook wants to play, if that meant your real secret won't be found out. (that is if they don't know of it already and are just letting you go for now.) Anyway, If this fake relationship is your escape pass then so be it. You were still planning to confront Jungkook about this shit show later though.

"Stop being sassy you brat, I wasn't talking to you, I was clearly asking our prince here." your dad scolded you. "Did you even court her properly Prince Jeon? I hope you did everything you can to truly deserve her heart."

"I- I did…Your majesty. I can tell you all about how I wooed her during dinner. That is if you'll allow me to stay for dinner?" Jungkook somewhat smoothly replied. You gave him a grim warning look- because he was really pushing it. Though mayhaps, you supposed him staying for dinner wouldn't be so insufferable- since you could talk to him after, and discuss what's going on in his heinous mind.

"Alright, Prince Jeon. You can stay for dinner, and maybe you can convince me if you're truly fitting for my dear Princess Y/N." The king replied.

👸🤴👑

Your father and Jungkook chatted amicably, though the king interrogated Jungkook a lot about your relationship. The king asked about how you both realized you were in love with each other, which was awkward because you weren't really in love. You let Jungkook do all the talking since he's a better liar in your opinion. Your father even had the audacity to ask when was your first kiss together? To which Jungkook almost choked on his water, while his cheeks burned red. It didn't seem like he'd stop interrogating Jungkook soon, so before he could ask Jungkook more personal questions like, if you'd slept together already- (It was common for the new generation of royals in your land to sleep around even before being wed.) You decided to interrupt and end their conversation.

You excused yourself from the table, telling your father you were full, and took Jungkook with you. The king surprisingly allowed you to go without a lot of fuss, but he did shoot you both suggestive looks. When you got to your room, Jungkook seemed to be relieved that you stopped the king from torturing him even further. Maybe using the word 'torturing' was a bit harsh- but that was kinda what Jungkook felt when your father asked him all those personal questions. Not that he was truly in pain, but more like he felt weird thinking about all the little white lies he told the king. He wondered if in the future it might come true? Would he still feel awkward or would he enjoy it? He was interrupted from his pondering when he heard your adorable voice, he realized you were talking to him.

"Hello?? Earth to rabbit prince? I was asking you a question but you seemed to be on planet mars or something," You commented while sitting on your bed. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about some stuff and things…" He was thinking about the possibilities of you and him- was what he wanted to say, but he'll probably never say it even if he was blackmailed by an enemy. "Stuff and things huh? Are you the main lead of Walking Dead now? Anyway- I was just asking you why you suddenly decided that we should fake date?"

"I-" Jungkook sighed while sitting on the chair near your bed, "I thought you had the idea why already," he simply replied. "Well, maybe I do have an idea." you told him. "But is my idea correct? Did you do it so I could go on missions without having a hard time sneaking out on my parents?"

"I guess. Mayhaps, I wanted to help you in a way." he shyly admitted, avoiding looking at your direction. "For real though? Why? What's in it for you?" you inquired, curious as to why he did such things to help you. "I don't know, maybe just because," was his curt reply. "Just because? What kind of answer is that? It doesn't make sense. I still want to know Jungkook," you probed.

"Maybe it's just because I can okay?" you looked at him still unconvinced. "Fine- maybe because I feel a little bad for you. You have boomer parents who still think you should stick to being a prim and proper princess, when we both know how much you want to be an amazing superspy too. And you already are," He told you, looking at you proudly. "But, I know how much you want to protect yourself and the people you love. I know that you love being a spy and going on missions. So maybe, that's why I made the whole fake dating show." He proclaimed.

"Okay...that seems comprehensible. You didn't have to do it, but you still did anyway. So I wanna thank you for that." you told Jungkook honestly. "Actually I was mad at first, I was confused about what your plan was. I didn't realize you were doing it for me. But when I did, I guessed it didn't seem so bad after all." you confessed looking at him shyly. "It's okay, I didn't tell you about it beforehand too. So I can understand why you were mad." he replied.

"Uh… yeah. Though, I'm still sorry for being rude. I guess we'll have to get along because we're partners now anyway." you suggested. "Okay, I guess we should try to be friends since we're partners now." Jungkook replied. Maybe being friends with Jungkook wouldn't be so bad.

👑

Your first official mission with Jungkook was at a nearby kingdom. It was reigned by the Kim family, and now ruled by their obnoxious tyrant son, Kim Seokjin. His beloved parents have been deceased for a few years now, that is why he's became king, and is doing whatever he wants with the land. Your mission is to teach him a lesson; and that is to learn how to share his wealth to his people. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He's using up all the land's wealth for his selfish needs, and leaving his people to die of hunger and starvation.

Meeting King Seokjin was quite amusing. He didn't even spare you a glance as he sat on his throne, and looked at his face in his handheld mirror. He seemed to focus on his face only, quite a narcissistic trait. He also didn't seem to take you both seriously when you told him that he should change his ways- before it's too late. That is why you had no choice but to make him listen to you even if you had to exert a little force.

You had shot the wall near where he was sitting with your laser gun, (you also finally decided to bring a few gadgets just in case.) therefore catching his attention, finally. "What the hell? Are you deranged? Why did you do that you imbecile! You could've hit my beautiful face! I could have you killed for trying to scratch my gorgeous face you know!" King Seokjin exclaimed. "Well we had to get your attention you narcissistic king. You won't listen to us." Jungkook answered him for you.

"Stop acting like a spoiled child, and help your people. They need you." You retorted. "Who are you peasants to even tell me what to do?!! Actually, how did you both even get inside here? Guards!" the tyrant king screamed. "We're just people who were sent to teach you a lesson. Your guards are asleep if you must know. We kind of knocked them out, sorry about that your majesty." Jungkook quipped.

"Who are you heathens? I don't have time for your tomfoolery, so if it's money you want then just tell me how much and maybe I'll give you some." King Seokjin proclaimed. "We don't want any of your dirty money. What we want is that you learn how to share them with your people." You chided. "Share my money with commoners? What kind of ridiculous thing are you talking about? I'll never share my wealth with useless peasants! Never!"

"The useless peasants you called are the ones feeding you, and are the source of the food you eat. You don't even pay them for their rice and crops, you only know how to take but never give back." "I don't care what you say! I'm not sharing my money with slaves or anyone else even til I die!" he screamed. It seemed like he truly wasn't gonna cooperate or change his ways, so you had to resort to doing things by force yet again.

"Fine, you're really not gonna change? Then we'll just have to make you then." You announced to him. "Oh. please make me!" King Seokjin mocked. "Oh we really are, until you learn your lesson you selfish king." Jungkook retorted. And before he could reply or notice, you were both tying him up on his chair that he loves sitting on. And when he realized what you had done, it was too late and he couldn't move anymore. "What are you doing? Let me go! You'll pay for this you crazies!"

"I think we won't be paying for anything unlike you, your majesty. Now if you don't want us to carry you and leave you outside for the townspeople to beat up- you'll give us the money to pay your people." Jungkook demanded. "How dare you threaten me?! I'm not scared of you buffoons! And I'm not giving you any of my money! If you don't untie me this instant, you'll truly regret it! I promise you both!" He exclaimed. "I see you still won't cooperate with us, Okay. Let's go agent Fox."

Jungkook motioned for you to untie King Seokjin on the chair, only to tie him up again as Jungkook carried him down his throne. You were about to go out and leave him on the streets for the townspeople to beat up, when he suddenly screamed and begged you both not to. "Wait! Are you really gonna leave me out there to get beaten up?! Please don't! They'll ruin my beautiful face! Ok- Okay! I'll tell you where my money is and share them to my people! Just put me down please!"

"Are you seriously gonna help your people now? Do you promise?" Jungkook inquired. "Yes! Yes I promise! Now please put me down." King Seokjin replied. Jungkook put him back on his throne and you both waited for him to do what he promised. After getting some money from his secret vault, he then fulfilled his promise of paying the people he's been indebted with for so long. You both went with him to visit the townspeople he neglected and left to starve. Surprisingly, he paid them without so much fuss and no complaints from him. Even the townspeople were shocked at his sudden actions.

After giving the people the money they deserved, You were both surprised to be invited by the King for dinner. He explained that he wanted to thank you for making him realize his selfish ways, and he wanted to show you how grateful he was by letting you enjoy a good meal. Not wanting to be rude and mayhaps you were both kinda hungry too, you accepted his offer of dinner.

The dinner with the king went well. Mayhaps too well that is. You were just finishing your dessert when you felt a little light headed. You didn’t wanna think about it too much and ignored it, but then you felt dizzy. You decided to ask Jungkook if he felt the same weird feeling you felt but when you looked at him sitting beside you he was already knocked out on the table. Something seems amiss. "Excuse me King Seokjin, there's something wrong with your food. Did you put something in it?" you asked struggling to stay conscious. You knew you were right, when you looked at the treacherous king. He was grinning. "Oh. Did I? It's such a shame you caught on too late my dear. Have a nice slumber!" You were really gonna kick his ass when you regain your strength. But for now you had no choice but to succumb to the darkness inviting you so enticingly. Your last memory being King Seokjin's taunting and laughing face.

You woke up confused and unsure of where you were, til you remembered the events of yesterday. The narcissistic king. The dinner. Jungkook. You guys blacked out. It was morning you guessed, but you couldn't really see anything since you had been blindfolded. Your other senses were more alert since you couldn't see, but you just wanted to feel if Jungkook was there with you. If he was near you. "Agent Bunny…? Are you here? Are you near me?" you called, you were glad the crazy king didn't tape your mouth to shut you up so you could call out for your partner. You were starting to get nervous because you didn't hear Jungkook respond right away. What if King Seokjin did something to him? Where did he take him?

You wanted to escape at that moment and find Jungkook, but you realized your hands were tied up. You couldn't do so much but try to thrash around and be free. Your gadgets were probably confiscated too, so you couldn't use them. You were still trying to escape when you heard a muffled sound that made you stop. Was it Jungkook? "Agent Bunny! Was that you? Are you okay? I'll get us out of here, don't worry!" Jungkook tried to reply, but of course all you heard was his muffled voice. You thrashed again as if it'll help you, when the traitor king made his presence obvious. "Oh you should worry. If you don't stop moving around, the rope that's holding you might snap. And you wouldn't want to know where you'll be falling into." he chided.

The rope that's holding you? What did he mean? Weren't you sitting down on a chair? Wait- is that why it feels weird and unstable? Are you… hanging in the air? Ballsacks. "Fine, since I'm feeling a little merciful today, I'll let your partner or is he your boyfriend? give you a little warning." the king said as he removed the cover on Jungkook's mouth, "Y/N- I meant- agent Fox! stop moving! The rope that's holding your chair is weak, If it snaps you'll fall into a piranha tank!" In Jungkook's haste to warn you, he forgot and called you by your real name again.

You didn't really mind his mistake that much right now, until the obnoxious king taunted you. "Wait- did I hear that right? Did your boyfriend just call you Y/N? Is that your name princess? It is isn't it? A dreadful name for a dreadful girl!" You weren't actually tasked to kill him but you just might. How dare he slander your name? Just he wait til you get out of here alive, you'll absolutely kick his ass! "Shut up you're the dreadful one Kim Seokjin! How dare you call her that, and insult her name!" Jungkook defended you.

"Yada yada. You're the one who should shut up. Do you want to be muffled again?" the king threatened your partner. "Let us go you foolish king! What do you gain from doing all of this anyway?" You inquired. "And what if I don't huh? What are you gonna do about it? Nothing! You can't do anything you tied up fools! You asked me what do I gain from this? A satisfying revenge! And now your boyfriend is gonna see you get eaten by piranhas, but he won't be able to do anything but watch." He retorted.

Of course it makes sense how Jungkook was able to see where you were right now, the king didn't blindfold Jungkook like he did with you. But he covered his mouth instead. "You're wrong, King Seokjin. I'm gonna save her and you can't stop me!" Jungkook screamed furious at the king. "And how are you planning to do that? You can't even get up from your seat. I'd tell you I'd like to see you try, but I've already wasted too much of my precious time for this nonsense." King Seokjin yawned seemingly to show his boredom and annoyance. "Guards! Pull the rope and bring her down." He ordered to them, but before they could pull the rope and feed you to the piranhas- a commotion happened.

And there stood, two people you didn't expect to see. "Our instructor was wondering where you two were ya know? Tsk. For supposedly being the best spies you two are getting rusty." Fiona the ogre looking princess said. "Anyway, sir told us to find you guys and save your asses, that's why we're here. I don't like you but sir asked us to save you both- so it's whatever." Fiona said as she got rid of the guards who were still trying to pull you down. Of course Agent Farquaad came with her too, and he was the one who helped untie Jungkook. Seokjin was still shookt at how his plans crumbled ever so quickly, that he just stood there mouth agape.

For the first time in your life, you were kinda relieved to see her. You finally got out of your restraints and you wanted to face King Seokjin right away, but Fiona's next words stopped you. "Now that we've saved you both, our job here is done. Though next time, try to do your job better idiots so we don't have to do it for you." she told you as they were about to go, you didn't have the time to get mad at her so you just ignored her, but before they actually did she told you one last thing. "Oh I almost forgot, there are rumors about rebels planning to attack this dumb king who hostaged you. They might be on the way here now. We'd love to help ya guys, but we have other rebels from another city to take care of. So ttyl!" and then she scurried off with her partner.

Well it's not like you can't fight the rebels yourselves, but an earlier warning would've been nice. You moved closer to Jungkook who was keeping an eye on the now submissive king. "So bunny, what's the plan now?" you inquired. "I guess we wait for them to arrive and defeat them all." was his reply. You nodded in agreement, of course that's what you're going to do.

The rebels arrived not long after, and it was quite a taxing battle, but nothing you weren't used to. They carried high tech weapons too, but you managed to steal some from them and use it on them. Just as one rebel almost shot King Seokjin, you managed to pull him to the side just in time and save his plumpous ass. To say he was shocked that you saved him, was an understatement. He was literally in awe that you still saved his life, even if he had tied you up and almost fed you to the piranhas.

The act was actually enough that he started to mayhaps have a change of heart. After a hundred butts kicked and a few exhausting hours later, you finally defeated the rebels. Police reinforcements came to collect most of them (because a few rebels always manage to escape) and took them to jail, meanwhile you've never wanted more but to get back home already and just lie on your bed for a month. Your partner looked exhausted too, but still undeniably handsome. Not that you'll ever admit that to him. You were actually missing home, even though it's only been a day. Your parents would probably- oh glob, your parents! They're probably worried sick now. You hope you'll still be allowed to go out after this.

You were so busy worrying if you'll get grounded, that you didn’t notice the narcissistic King coming up to you. "Hey." He called out, breaking you out of your thoughts and surprising you. What did he want now? "I just wanted to say, thanks for saving me. You shouldn't have, but you still did anyway. And I'm sorry for everything. Promise, I'm being sincere this time." He seemed sincere with his apology, even though he couldn't really look you in the eye that well. You could say he was embarrassed? Or guilty? Maybe both. Still, you wanted to tease him and so you probed. "Are you really being honest now? Or is it another act of yours to deceive me again?"

"I'm being sincere this time I swear, I really felt awful about what I did to you. What I did to you both." he corrected. "I realized how selfish and crazy I've been, and I'm honestly sorry for that." "Well it's great that you realized your mistakes. I forgive you I guess, I don't wanna hold grudges for too long anyway." you replied. "Really? Thank you so much! I swear I'll prove to you that I'll change for real this time." he exclaimed getting your partner's attention, making him check up on you both in case something's wrong.

"Is everything alright with you two?" Jungkook asked. "Yeah bunny. He was just apologizing that's all." you replied. "Oh ok. Wait- he apologized? For real? How unbelievable." he then sent an accusing look at King Seokjin. "Yes he did. He seemed genuine so let's just let bygones be bygones." "Yeah. You sure he won't drug us to sleep again?" "Jungkook-"

"I won't. I should've never, it was truly wrong of me. I'm sorry for taunting you and for every wrong thing I've done. Believe me, I really do feel shitty for hurting you guys who saved me." King Seokjin heard your conversation and decided to apologize to Jungkook too. "If there's anything I could do to make it up to you guys, just please tell me. I'll do it in a heartbeat." "Hmm. Maybe there is something you could do." Jungkook suddenly had an idea.

👑

"Princess Y/N! Where have you been? we've been worried sick about you! Your mother couldn't sleep waiting for you!" Your father said when you finally arrived home. "Dad it was just a day, we were invited by our friend King Seokjin to stay for the night because it was getting late." you reasoned.

"King Seokjin? Is he the gorgeous man standing next to Jungkook right now?" your father inquired. "Yes dad," "Who is he? Why didn't you both tell us about him?" "He's our new friend, we helped him and he felt grateful so he made us stay for the night."

"It's amazing how you can plan quite a perfect lie my dear, you may have fooled your father- but we both know you can't fool me." the queen finally appeared. "So tell me Y/N, where were you really?" "Mom… I can explain-" "Were you at that spy academy of yours? Or going on those nonsense missions weren't you? I'm very disappointed in you Y/N. I thought you had quit being a useless spy. But of course, you had lied to me." she scolded you. You didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that she was disappointed in you, or the fact that she thought and probably still thinks- you're a useless spy.

"She isn't a useless spy, she saved me for crying out loud!" you were surprised to see King Seokjin was actually defending you. Maybe he truly had changed. "It's true your majesty. She isn't a useless spy, in fact she's one of the best spies in our academy. She's one of the best spies I know." Jungkook added. "Spectacular, but I don't recall asking you both for your opinion. So I suggest you both stay out of this. King Seokjin it's nice to meet you but you can go home now. As for you Prince Jungkook, you should probably leave too. I had a feeling you influenced her, and I was right." the queen reprimanded.

"Jungkook didn't influence me! I wanted to be a spy on my own. I just don't understand why you won't let me. Do you not love me mom?" you exclaimed. "Enough Y/N! Not another word from you, or you'll be spending your whole life in your tower. You're grounded for a year, and that's final. Guards, escort Princess Y/N to her tower and make sure she stays there for a year." you can't believe your mother right now, she had done this before when she first discovered what you were doing in the academy, and now she's doing it again. "Darling, don't you think you're being a little too harsh on our daughter? Locked for a year in her tower? Isn't that quite too much-" the king interrupted but the queen silenced him. "No I'm not being too harsh on her, you're too lenient on her that's why she keeps being a brat. She needs to learn how to listen to me, I'm her mother and the queen after all.

You lashed out on some of the guards on the way to your tower, you were just so upset you couldn't believe it had come to this. You could've escaped them easily, but you didn't want to be disowned by your family. So you decided to take your punishment.

You scrolled through your phone for the nth time today, and you were bored. Luckily, she at least let you had your phone. You wanted to see if you had new missions to do, but you felt conflicted too, because you can't disobey your mother this time. You were just planning to take a nap again when a strawberry hit you on the face. You looked at your window to find out where the strawberry came from, and you were in awe to see it was your bunny prince on a drone airplane. "Jungkook? How did you- why are you here?"

"To get you out, of course. Who else would help you other than me?" he cockily said. "You didn't even tell me you were coming. Anyway, thanks for wanting to take me out of here, but I can't. Even if I really want to escape, I can't anymore Jungkook." you refused. "You can't or you shouldn't? I know you're afraid of disappointing your mother again baby, but I think she'll understand. Besides, I think she was just angry at that moment. She probably wants to let you go back to your room now."

Your heart warmed at his pet name for you, but you still can't agree to go with him. "Exactly, Kook. Maybe she'll want to end my punishment sooner, but what if she finds out I disobeyed her again? She'll be furious, and I don't want my punishment to be extended." "Well what if she doesn't find out? I'm sure she can't see me when I'm this high on the ground. And I promise I'll bring you back home before they check on you. Come on princess, do you really wanna stay here alone in your tower, for a year?" he persuaded. "I don't… but ugh, I hate you Jeon Jungkook. Fine, just let me get my stuff." you caved in. How were you supposed to say no when a guy as annoyingly handsome as prince Jeon asked you?

You hopped on the airplane drone and went away with your handsome prince. You and Jungkook just flew around the land, it was awe inspiring to look at the villages and people from above. When he finally brought you home you felt a little glum that the day had to end. You were relieved that you weren't caught by the queen though. You were relieved to have Prince Jeon with you. You texted your instructor about your current situation and why you can't go on missions for a while. He told you he understood, he truly is the best instructor.

Jungkook came to see you again the next day. He didn't take you away this time, he just stayed with you and you two talked all day. Jungkook visited your tower everyday, and you couldn't help but fall for him each passing day too. One night, the two of you finally shared your first kiss and it felt amazing. He didn't come back the next day though, which made you feel worried that he didn't feel the same way. Unbeknownst to you, he was actually planning how to get you out of your current situation- while he couldn't stop thinking about your kiss too.

"Y/N, it's been 3 months since you've been locked here in your tower. I don't mind visiting you but, don't you miss going on missions with me? Don't lie, I know you do. We need to get you out of here." Jungkook declared. "Jungkook is that why you didn't come yesterday? 'Cause you were planning my escape from here?" you inquired still a little upset, he didn't come to see you yesterday. "Yes actually. Why? Did you think about something else?"

"No… I just thought- nevermind it doesn't matter." "Of course it matters princess, tell me what's on your mind." he asked you moving closer to touch your cheek fondly. "I thought you didn't like our kiss… And that you thought it was a mistake. Am i right?" you asked honestly.

"No you aren't baby. I loved our kiss, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I'm sorry I made you think that way, I really was just busy pondering how to get you out of here. But I have a plan now, and that's why I'm here to ask you if you'll agree with it."

"You do? You have a plan? Why do I have a feeling it's gonna be chaotic… But fine- I wanna hear it anyway,"

"Run away with me."

Ballsacks, he's kidding right? Your Jungkook is kidding right?

💜

You made a decision that day that changed your life. You ran away with Jungkook and lived at his palace. You were finally free to go on missions without worrying about what your mother would say. Jungkook kept your existence at the palace a secret at first, putting you in a secret room no one else knows but him. But of course as all secrets do, all secrets will be revealed. His parents found out that you were now living with them, and they were shookt but thankfully they let you stay.

They advised you to tell your parents though, so your parents would stop worrying about you. You did tell your parents about your whereabouts, you missed them after all. But you also told them you couldn't live with them, if they can't accept you for being a spy. You only talked to your father, the king. As your mother didn't seem interested to talk to you. You hoped she'll accept you for who you are someday.

3 years passed and you've decided to return to the palace, your home. You're full of nerves as you're worried about how they'll react to you coming back, but also because you have an important thing to talk about to them. You had returned to inform and personally invite them to your wedding. Your relationship with Jungkook grew stronger over the years, and one lovely night he proposed to you, which you accepted of course. That's why you're now getting married and elated to be one with him.

You're with Jungkook as you faced your parents. They looked quite surprised to see your presence again after a few years. Your father smiled at you and he seemed happy to finally see you again. Your mother on the other hand, still looked indifferent as before. "My dearest princess, I'm so glad you came back." your father told you. "I'm happy to see you too, dad." you smiled at him. "Actually, I'm here- I mean we're here, because we wanted to tell you something very important. Jungkook and I are getting married."

They didn't seem surprised to hear that actually. You guessed they figured out why you came today. "We want to personally invite you to our wedding. It'd be great if you both were there." you added. "Of course we'll be there. It's a good thing we didn't have to push through with the arranged marriage we planned for you guys before. It's spectacular that you fell for each other naturally." the queen surprised you all when she replied. She didn't seem to mean it with malice but with all honesty.

"Wait- you were planning to make us have an arranged marriage?" you inquired, you weren't mad anymore just shocked that your parents had planned to wed you with Jungkook after all. "Yes. Well it was because Jungkook's parents are our friends, and your marriage would be great to strengthen our kingdom. We're sorry if the knowledge infuriates you now."

"It doesn't. I'm just surprised that's all. Anyway, mayhaps we're truly meant to be as I'm still marrying him now." you said quite fondly. "The preparations have started as the wedding is in 3 days, the stylists will come soon so please tell them if you need something. I already picked yours and dad's clothes, I hope you don't mind. Can I stay in my room for tonight? Jungkook can take the guest room." you asked. "Wait Y/N. I wanted to apologize for being a cruel mother to you." the queen's words stopped you. "I'm sorry for locking you in the tower which made you runaway from us."

"I'm sorry for not believing in you, I always knew you were a great spy- I just didn't wanna acknowledge it because I was scared of losing you. And I did anyway. I guess I'm just sorry for being a bad mom and for everything my dear. I hope someday you'll be able to forgive me." you could feel the queen's remorse through her words and facial expressions, and you realized there wasn't really anger anymore. You were just sad for the lost time. "Thanks mom, that's all I've ever wanted to hear. I just wanted you to be proud of me. And you aren't a bad mother, I understand now why you did those things. Though they're quite questionable, but I forgive you. I already did a long time ago." You hugged each other and were finally glad to be on good terms again.

👰

Your wedding day came, and everything went perfect. You wore the loveliest wedding dress, and Jungkook wore the fittest suit. You only invited your close friends and family, you actually just wanted a simple wedding. The selfish but now kind King Seokjin, came too. Along with your fellow agents, Fiona and Farquaad. They all watched as you two sealed your newly formed union with a short but sweet passionate kiss.

After the glorious event, you were now inside Jungkook's room fidgeting and anticipating- what to do for the remainder of the night. You had just finished taking a relaxing bath, and were now dressed in your nightgown. Were you finally gonna do it with him after abstaining for years? Thoughts ran through your mind while waiting for Jungkook. He had to go somewhere for a bit because of some emergency prince duties. He was even busier now, that they want him to take over as the new king. But surely he'll make time for you on your wedding night right?

You were getting sleepy waiting for him when after a while, the knob to his door slowly turned. And then came your prince- and husband, the person you've been waiting for. "I'm sorry I took so long baby, the council and the advisors were just so-" "It's okay Kook, just come here and lie with me," you called. You didn’t even realize the implications of your words until you said them, and you couldn't take them back. You blushed furiously at seeming so desperate.

"I will my love, I'm just gonna take a shower first, then I'll come join you in bed" he chirped. After Jungkook's long agonizing shower- (or it just seemed long to you, when he really didn't take that long) he finally joined you in bed. Though, you couldn't face him because you were so embarrassed of your daring words awhile ago, that you may or may not have meant. You pretended to be asleep, but of course Jungkook knows you too much to know you were just pretending. "I know you're awake baby, don't pretend to fall asleep on me now. Not when we haven't made love yet."

Jungkook's words made you a little wet, okay maybe a lot. How can he be so irresistible? You tried to take a peek at his face but failed miserably, as your attention went to his beautifully sculptured body. He was lying so close to you without any clothes on! You almost saw his dick if not for the sheets covering it. "Like what you see my love? I didn't put any clothes on yet, 'cause It would be stupid if I'm just gonna take them off in a bit. I've really been waiting for this night Y/N," he said, touching your back through your nightgown tracing your curves.

"I'm finally gonna claim you and make you mine, can I make love to you now my love?" Jungkook sincerely inquired, and you gave him your permission because you wanted him to. You wanted him to make you his and you wanted to make love with him too. And you showed how much you loved each other all through the night. You loved it when he treated you so delicately, and he wasn't in a rush. You loved it when he sucked your perky nipples until they were so sensitive and swollen. You loved it when he thrusted inside you while kissing you at the same time and holding your hand. You loved your partner in crime Jeon Jungkook, the most loyal agent and bunny in the world. Your prince and your husband. And you're pretty sure he loved you too.

And they loved happily ever after. Fin. 🧚🏻‍♀️

A/N: tysm for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog and leave a nice comment! 🥺💜

Btw! This is the pic dat's should've been on the insert pic but tumblr luvs to f- me raw in the ass, so it re-arranged it. I'm only on mobile so i can't do sht so im very sorry!

[palbabor-writes]

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura. 

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask? 

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items. 

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question. 

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide. 

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly. 

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative. 

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city. 

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world. 

Now? 

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers. 

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies. 

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.” 

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.” 

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines. 

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you? 

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger. 

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence? 

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail. 

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite. 

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’ 

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him. 

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura. 

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time. 

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you. 

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible. 

He’s been changing a lot lately. 

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection. 

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice. 

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her. 

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something. 

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off. 

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner. 

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start. 

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is. 

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him? 

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command? 

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident. 

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed. 

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this. 

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you. 

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice. 

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).” 

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers. 

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).” 

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling... 

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms. 

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling. 

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing. 

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?” 

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on. 

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement. 

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right? 

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things. 

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and... 

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his. 

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open. 

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again. 

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost. 

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this. 

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care. 

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip. 

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for. 

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way. 

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)  

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @evesmores​

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

[yodawgiherd]

Cabin at Nighttime

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Aaand there is the second part of modern cottagecore, more M-rated, so beware if that is not your cup of tea.

For Mikasa, it was like watching movie scenes unfolding in front of her eyes. It could happen anytime around the cabin, during any activity, if there was a pattern to it then she failed to see it. Yet while the images bled to reality, Mikasa always knew that is real and what isn’t - the underlying feeling of sadness and abandoned duty that followed these visions made them easy to identify. When she walked to the edge of the small forest, she saw dream Eren chopping wood, his hair in that unfamiliar undercut. She saw him carrying a huge fish, a proud smile pulling at his lips. She also witnessed a lot of intimate moments, hugs, and gentle kisses scattered all around the cabin, and if it wasn’t her as one of the actors Mikasa would feel like intruding. It was so precious, what the two of them had, but there was that sadness every time, the feel that it was just a utopia, a daydream. The dread wasn’t caused only by the mission they ran from to be together, but a new faint feeling tingled its way into Mikasa’s bones.

It was a few scenes. In one, Eren was coughing into a handkerchief, and when he pulled it away from his mouth it was tainted red. In the next, Mikasa was watching him struggle with a log, tears in her eyes before she quickly crossed the distance to help him. All these visions were drenched in that sad feeling, in the helplessness, it made her own eyes water. Not from the pain this time, but from the tragedy of it all.

“He was dying.”, she said out of nowhere, making Eren look up from the small fire he was cultivating.

He knew right away of who Mikasa spoke.

“Why? Was he sick?”

“Yes…” a tingle, “Or no, it was more like… a curse?”

“Curse?”

“Yes, a curse that was killing him, and he didn’t have much time left.”

“Was there no cure?”

Mikasa shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of hopelessness. Eren must have felt it because he abandoned the fire in favor of sitting next to her, wrapping her shivering form in a hug. Closing her eyes she pressed her body close to his.

“Poor guy,”, Eren stated, “Ran away to be with the love of his life and still got cursed to die young. Dude can’t catch a break.”

“Eren..”, she frowned at him but he kissed it away with an easy smile.

Mikasa had to remind herself that Eren didn’t feel the presence like she did. Sure, he was the understanding and supportive boyfriend who did everything in his power to make her feel better, but he didn’t have these nightmares, these visions. His mind wasn’t weighted down by the impending doom, creeping around the corners of the cabin.

So why stay, one could ask. Why stay in the place where Mikasa saw ghosts around the corners? The answer was simple – it was a gut feeling. Mikasa felt right here, almost as if she came home after years and years of being abroad. Yes, there was sadness and guilt but there was also joy and happiness and it all mixed in an addictive way. Most importantly, she knew that it was correct to be here, the universe demanded it.

To be completely honest, Eren had a tiny fear that he might be bored at the cabin, his brain hardwired to all the action living in a city brought. It turned out to be completely wrong because he was anything but. Instead of twiddling his thumbs, he was now fuzzing over Mikasa ever since her small collapse, making sure that she has everything she could ask for. As a doctor, he knew that these visions might be a symptom of a mental illness, but she wasn’t showing anything else apart from them. Mikasa wasn’t delusional, she didn’t confuse reality and her dreams, she could answer his questions clearly and correctly. For now, he kept it as an open topic, making a mental note to ask Hitch about it once they get back to the city. He could call her, but the situation wasn’t urgent and he would very much prefer to hear her opinion over a few drinks.

The place was something else, and if Mikasa didn’t like it so much he would probably call it a shack instead. At least it had running water, a fact that Eren was very grateful for. With technology and the hustle of the city far beyond them, they spent their time doing downright childish and primitive things. They swam, splashing around in the cold ocean water like careless kids. They hiked, taking in the natural beauty of the countryside. With Mikasa not having another one of her episodes, Eren even left her alone for a bit and tried fishing, only to discover that he is terrible at it. Staring at the bait, unmoving in the water, he couldn’t suppress a groan. Damn water creatures, they must be plotting against him. His evening got marginally better once he returned, seeing Mikasa preparing the outside table for dinner.

“What did you catch?”, she asked with a smile, obviously seeing that Eren wasn’t carrying any fish.

“My love for you.”, he replied before producing a small flower he picked, offering it as a gift.

Mikasa accepted it, putting it into her hair, and the hour spent being taunted by fishes just didn’t matter anymore. It was the 21st century, so they weren’t dependent on Eren’s ability, or rather inability, to fish - the food they brought would do. Cooking it over the small fire, they ate in relative silence, taking in the embrace of nature they found themselves in. After that, Eren produced a few more sweet treats from his bag and to Mikasa’s delight prepared hot chocolate and marshmallows. The shadows grew long and the evening steadily progressed into the night while they huddled on the bench, bundled in a blanket and with Mikasa once again shamelessly abusing the heat Eren’s body produced.

“Did you have any more visions?”, he asked cautiously, rubbing her shoulder.

“A few, but they were very faint.”, she snuggled closer into his embrace, “But I have this strange feeling while I’m here.”

“What’s that?”

“I think… I feel like Mikasa was pregnant.”

“Well damn, the brats were faster than us?”, Eren snickered, “Guess they didn’t have careers to focus on.”

“They did.”, Mikasa disagreed, “They had a whole mission of saving the world. They abandoned it to be together.”

“Romantic.”, with a gentle hand, Eren dragged his fingers through Mikasa’s hair, loving the silkiness of the natural black and the few artificially red strands, “Yet sad at the same time.”

“Very sad.”

“It does bring an interesting question.”, Eren continued,  “Would you abandon your career to be with me?”

Mikasa thought about it, deeply and carefully. She loved fighting, loved the freedom she had in the ring, loved working on herself and her body. Overcoming obstacles and winning against impossible odds made her feel strong, invincible. But despite all these facts, despite her loving MMA so much, she knew the answer.

“I would. Both fighting and modeling, for you I’d do it.”

“I think I would too, even if it would be tearing me up inside. If I couldn’t help people anymore, couldn’t set them free from their injuries…”, he took a deep breath, his chest expanding where Mikasa leaned on it, “Still, you are way too important for me. I would drop it all to be with you because living without Mikasa in my life is not worth it.”

Mikasa fell asleep out here, bundled up with Eren, but she woke when he carried her inside and put her to bed. Why? Because that old thing creaked terribly.

“Sorry…”, he murmured, making her snicker.

“Hardly your fault.”

“I’d prefer if you slept peacefully.”

“Is it because of the visions? I told you not to worry, only the first one was painful.”

She got up, stretched a bit, and went to change into her sleeping clothes. Eren mirrored her actions, and for a moment the only sounds in the cabin were the rustles of fabric.

“Would you look at that.”, he remarked once they were both changed, “There is only one bed.”

“Guess we will have to share.”, she plopped down on it, making the bed creak again, “I hope that you will not try to take advantage of the situation, good sir.”

“I wouldn’t dare ma’am.”

To her surprise, Eren did just that, lying down and pulling the covers over himself at a respectful distance from her.

“I wish you a good night, lady Mikasa.”

Eren’s back to her, Mikasa looked with a raised eyebrow as he did exactly nothing. When the silence stretched, she poked him in the shoulder.

“Hey Eren, you know that it was a joke right. I would very much prefer if you did something very inappropriate to me.”

He turned, the moon reflecting in his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“What, are you scared that sex might bring back more of the memories?”

“I don’t rightly know.”, he confessed, “You had a headache from touching a bench, I have no idea what your triggers are.”

“Babe, stop worrying for a second,”, Mikasa grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging his face to hers, “And kiss me, you fool.”

He did so, and then it was the familiar dance. Clothing was torn and thrown away from their bodies, careless where it would land, littering the interior. Only once they were bare to each other did Mikasa roll on her back with Eren falling on top, their mouths not leaving one another for a second. She opened herself up to him, letting him have all the control when he pinned her hands above her head, their fingers entwining together on the aged sheets. There was no resistance from her when their groins touched, when Eren pressed his hardness against her heat, forcing her body to arch so beautifully. Their lips mashed together, hard and bruising, and soon the lack of air made them pant. Mikasa breathed with tiny soft moans that somehow tugged at his heart at the same time as his groin. His love and adoration for her were absolute, both physical and spiritual. That was until he felt something very cold rub against his legs. Despite his primal hunger for her, Eren tore himself away from Mikasa’s lips.

“Geez, your feet are freezing.”

Her response was a giggle and even more insistent cold rub.

“Then warm me up.”

Seeing her smile and hearing her laugh was intoxicating, making Mikasa happy was very high on Eren’s priority list. Angling his head he licked a long stripe, all the way from her collarbone to her pierced earlobe.

“All right.”

And then he was kissing her again because he loved her more than anything, even with her freezing feet. There was no one else he could even imagine doing this with because no one was like Mikasa. He knew her body, he knew it so well, yet Eren traced his touch all over it, letting his hands go down from the restricting hold on her wrists. She was pinned beneath his weight but Mikasa did not mind it at all. And exploring he went, down her face that put the sun to shame to the small yet perky breasts that were now heaving with her breathing. Groping the area shamelessly Eren indulged himself, playing with Mikasa’s chest until her breaths grew even more desperate. Her nipples were coming to life underneath his touch reacting wonderfully when he thumbed the nubs. Soon he had them fully erect, just as his cock was. The pinch he planted on the left one made Mikasa groan into the kiss, a sound that was so sexy that Eren forced her to do it again by pinching the other one. Down the plane of perfectly defined abs that belonged on a statue and not a living person, and down still. Smugly ghosting over the apex of her legs, Eren’s hands anchored on her thighs instead, caressing those beautiful muscular limbs. Mikasa could feel him smirk into the kiss, he knew that he was ignoring the place where she wanted him the most. Patient, compliant for now, she would let him keep the lead. He never let her down before.

Reversing his descent, Eren slid his hands upwards over the toned legs, taking in a handful of her ass. It fascinated him and it would never stop doing so, because Eren was a weak man and the thing that he was groping was the most perfect ass that there was, fueling his primal desires to no end. A thing to worship, caress and care for every single day.

And still they kissed, breathless and growing more and more aggressive. Her tongue traced his upper lip, prodding inside and sliding alongside his wet muscle. Then it was Eren attacking, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. Raw and dangerous yet sweet at the same time, it was like kissing and being kissed by a wild animal sometimes. Mikasa was practically panting when Eren left her mouth to bite her neck, pressing his face into that silky skin he loved so much. The pale was now marked by him, imprints of teeth and reddening marks he sucked into it, definitive proof of his conquest.

Above him, Mikasa let out a breathy laugh at all that. Sure, the bites hurt but they were immediately soothed by Eren’s tongue and lips, leaving only a pleasurable tingle behind. He could be rough but he was always there to kiss the hurt away, to let her know how loved Mikasa was. Eren could hurt her but it was a beautiful pain.

A new sting originating from her chest let Mikasa know that he was now at her breasts, ravaging them. He nipped at the underside, knowing she’s ticklish there, mixing her breathing with airy giggles. The dark nipples were already hard from his previous actions, and they felt great in his mouth when Eren pulled them in, sucking Mikasa’s breasts. And then the bite came a clamp of his teeth against the super-sensitive bud that had her crying out and arching from the bed. A pinch and roll on the other and Mikasa was shaking beneath him, her mouth open in cries and pleas.

Down he went, kissing everywhere he could, making every inch of her flawless skin as his. Her stomach, her beautifully muscled stomach, her sharp hips, the lines that guided him to the place where the fire originated in. His lips were here and there, scrape of teeth against the hipbone and gone before Mikasa took full notice, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. To say that it was driving her crazy would be an understatement. Eren had the gall to call her a tease?

She was almost begging, she almost reached down to push him there when Eren’s mouth arrived at the apex of her muscular thighs, taking a handful of her cheeks and spreading them open for him. Mikasa assisted him more than willingly, biting her bottom lip to keep the excited noises in. Eren went down on her so many times but it was something she always looked forward to, the amazing pleasure he could provide with his mouth was an experience to be enjoyed a hundred, thousand times over. It would do her no good to squeal like a schoolgirl because Eren would surely tease her for it later, but it was hard to keep it inside. Brushing the midnight bangs from her eyes Mikasa looked down, wanting to see him because Eren pleasuring her was an incredible sight. Many times she was tempted to snap a picture, a quick photo of his mouth between her legs, but didn’t do it yet. Maybe one day.

It was oddly satisfying, watching Eren between her spread thighs. The tiny part of her recalled those hurtful memories, the “I’ve always hated you Mikasa”, that pain that belonged to someone else. It was her Eren’s perfect copy who said that but look at him now. Fully devoted to her, to Mikasa’s pleasure, ignoring himself just so he can make her feel better. Hate was miles apart from what Eren felt for her, judging from his actions.

“Something funny?”, he asked, hot breath blowing over her womanhood.

Mikasa must have been smiling, she realized, smiling because she got to have this, not hate and suffering.

“No, I’m simply appreciating how nice you are to me, how attentive.”

He grinned up at her, keeping eye contact while he stuck out his tongue, licking her sex in a single wide stroke, all the way from the bottom to the top.

“This? I’m doing this solely for myself.”, his next words were a sultry whisper spoken so close to her sex that it looked like he was talking to her pussy, not to Mikasa, “I adore how you taste.”

Maybe to prove his point, maybe because he did enjoy it Eren dipped his head down to lick at her again. It wasn’t a service, it was an exchange, because Eren was in turn blessed by the sight of Mikasa’s bare stomach, tense abdominal muscles contracting with every whine and breath falling from the raven’s lips. His actions were slow and languid, licking her outsides but not dipping in yet, getting her properly worked up first. There was no rush, was there.

The two fingers that appeared by Mikasa’s lips were not a surprise and she took them eagerly into her mouth, sucking them. Once properly wet, he pulled them out and repositioned his hand between her slightly trembling thighs. Pulling his head back, Eren pushed them in and they both disappeared into her with a wet sound, making Mikasa moan out loud. A beautiful sound, that.

Eren's fingers dutifully re-explored every inch of Mikasa's sopping wet sex, made so by both her juices and his mouth, gliding from one area to the next with ease that comes from years of practice. And as always it drove Mikasa insane, her hips shifting because that smug bastard wasn’t doing what she wanted. Knowing her ticks so well, Eren ignored Mikasa’s clit that was begging for his attention beneath its hood, not touching her there in the slightest. Why? Because he loved seeing her desperate.

“Please…”, it finally came from her trembling lips, music to his ears, “Please, Eren…”

“Please what?”

“Please… do it”, her chest contracted, “… do it properly.”

It would be shameful to admit that Mikasa’s pussy was throbbing at this point, her clit so poor and unattended, but it was the truth. Eren had a thing for driving her arousal high, much higher than necessary, before doing it right. She was begging now, in that small voice that he could never say no to, and he didn’t want to in the first place. But when he moved down to obey and his cheek touched her inner thigh, Mikasa groaned.

“You have a stubble.”, she accused him, “Scratchy stubble at that.”

“It would appear so…”, to tease, Eren rubbed his face against her sensitive skin making Mikasa yelp and frown at him.

“Shave. Tomorrow.”

“I…”

“No buts.”, Mikasa reached down, grabbing his hair and angling Eren’s face back down, reminding him of his mission between Mikasa’s thighs.

“Now go on, please.”

Right. Spreading her open with his fingers, Eren dipped his tongue in, the tip of the wet muscle sliding inside her. She was scorching hot, faintly pulsing around his tongue and Eren knew that he can make these contractions much, much stronger. Delvin deeper he licked everywhere where he could reach, wiggling his tongue inside of her. At the same time his fingers attacked her clit, rubbing the tiny circles she liked, and Mikasa was finally being given the proper oral treatment. The insistent swirling of his tongue combined with the expert touches on her slowly stiffening nub as Eren was teasing it from under its hood. Letting her head fall on the bedding, she let her lover know just how much she appreciates him by moaning because that’s what he always wanted to hear. The sounds that Mikasa could make in her turned-on voice were better than any music.

He switched it up, sucked on her clit while fingering her, two digits moving in and out at a murderous tempo. The tip of his tongue stroked the bud languidly, teasing it from beneath the hood, and then his lips were wrapped around it again and he sucked. Hard. Mikasa lost control of both her voice and her hips and they were moving on their own, riding, fucking Eren’s face. Her thighs moved too, wrapping around his head and caging him in with no chance of escape.

Trapped, imprisoned by her muscular thighs, Eren had no other way out than to keep pleasuring her, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t love when Mikasa got demanding. Surrendering to her, he crammed a third finger inside her tight pussy to join the two already there, feeling the stretch as she accommodated him. Mikasa was so incredibly hot like this, sweaty and moaning while her body shook and her beautiful face contorted in the intense pleasure he was giving her. This was heaven, this sight was paradise, and Eren was so incredibly blessed to be allowed to do this to her, to this goddess that was in his bed. He needed her to cum on his face, he needed to taste her and he needed it now.

Putting all of his experience and skill to action, Eren fingered her hard while abusing her clit with his mouth. And when he curled the fingers and pressed into that one special spot, when he let his teeth graze over her clit, Mikasa lost it. She came hard, mind-shattering orgasm ripping through her body as she drenched Eren’s face and he lapped at the sweetness, tip toying with her throbbing clit. Those strong legs squeezed him too and her hips lifted from the bed, beautiful muscles forced to contract by the waves of pleasure flying through her entire being. She was delicious and Eren made sure to lick everywhere where he could, even sucking her cum from his fingers. Yes, he adored the taste, but while he was so diligently pleasuring her through the orgasm, drawing it out and making it even better, Mikasa had another vision.

Normally, her sight went white while cumming, but now there was something else imprinted over the otherworldly nothingness. Eren’s face was hovering over her, but it was the one with short hair and not her version. His face was sweaty and a bit embarrassed when he spoke.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold myself back.”, not-Eren said in an ethereal voice. “I finished so fast…”

“Don’t worry.”, a phantom hand reached out to caress his cheek, “I don’t mind, it felt nice.”

“Not good enough,”, the other Eren disagreed, “I promise that I’ll make it up to you. I’ll get better with practice.”

Mikasa felt herself blushing, not only in one reality but in the other too, while the other Eren dipped his head down to kiss her. And that’s when the vision broke. Eren must have noticed it, must have heard her speak to his other self because his head shot up from between her legs.

“Hey? What’s wrong?”, he asked, eyes widening in alarm, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I..”, she held unto him, tightening her legs around his form and preventing Eren from fully pulling back, keeping him in, “Another memory, that’s it.”

“I thought that this was a bad idea. Am I going to get blueballed by myself? That would be somewhat next-level play.”

Mikasa chuckled.

“It wasn’t a bad memory, just unexpected.”, she reached out to smooth her fingers over the bedding, “Let’s say that we aren’t the only ones who went to town in a very similar cabin.”

“You did say that Dreamkasa was pregnant, so it’s only logical.”

She frowned at him for using that stupid nickname, but Eren’s cheeky grin didn’t budge as he climbed up her body until they were face to face again. His was wet, she noticed, as Eren never did mind having her essence all over himself. Mikasa would never admit it out loud but it was pretty hot.

“It was super sweet, they were inexperienced and oh so careful with each other.”

“I’d call myself a lot of things, but inexperienced is not one of them. Not with you around.”

“It felt good, I’m sure of that.”

“Better than me?”

“Oh Eren,”, she giggled, hands coming up to circle his wide shoulders, “Are you getting jealous of yourself?”

“Just..”, he moved low, his hot breath ghosting over her neck as he punctured the word with a bite, beginning a slow journey upwards.

“Answer”

Lick

”The”

Nip

”Damn”

Bite

”Question. ”

Kiss

”Mi”

Suck

”Ka”

Lick

”Sa”

Bite

And now he was at the top of her ears, teeth clicking against the piercings lodged into the goth’s vulnerable cartilage. He knew that the neck and ears were Mikasa’s weak points, and he abused the knowledge, fanning the fires of her just-orgasmed body.

“You! Of course that I prefer you.”, getting some self-control back, Mikasa pulled at his long hair to get Eren to face her, “I spent so long training you, what kind of teacher would I be if you sucked at sex.”

“Teacher? For a woman who almost died of shame after showing me her boobs for the first time, you have certainly grown. Miss possessive.”

“Of you? Always.”, she pecked him on the nose, “You’re mine.”

His hand went low, groping her naked ass.

“And you mine.”, he replied in a heated whisper, “All of you, even this ass. Did you know that it’s a perfect fit for the golden ratio?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your ass is a Fibonacci perfection.”

For the sake of her mental health, Mikasa decided to ghost over that comment as Eren could be somewhat strange with his compliments. She knew he meant well, and that was good enough.

“Okay, it’s yours. Why don’t you stop stalling and make me feel good, hm?”, her voice was sultry now, eyes half-lidded, “Show me how much you have learned…”

A challenge.

“Didn’t you just come?”

“So?”, single fine raven eyebrow raised, “Can’t you do it again?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Aah, but I believe that you will sate me,”, her divine hand went low, squeezing his cock between those strong and dexterous fingers, “Right?”

He breathed hard against her naked skin, thoughts clouding. How could Mikasa make him so desperate with a single touch, that was a question Eren could never answer. Maybe trying to take advantage of his weakened state, Mikasa hooked a leg over his waist and pulled, attempting to roll them over. When Eren resisted she stopped, not wanting to force herself on top. There was a time and place for measuring strength, and this old and creaky bed wasn’t it.

To get an explanation for his actions, Mikasa tugged at his hair, getting Eren to look at the question written on her face.

“There is no way I’m letting you be on top.”, he answered the unspoken query.

“What? Why?”

“Miki, if you don’t remember, let me refresh your memory.”, his touch was back, one hand tracing the outlines of her abs while the other squeezed her thigh, “You literally broke a bedframe by riding me, and it was a much firmer than this squeaky one that’s here.”

“But I…”

“I’m not sure about you, but I don’t want to spend the night on the floor.”

Mikasa sighed, ceasing her efforts to roll him over.

“Fine.”

“Don’t you worry…”, Eren drawled out the words, kissing her neck again, “I’ll take good care of you.”

And he was inside her, pushing in with one sharp thrust that made her eyes roll back and mouth drop open. He abused that fact straight away, dropping his tongue between her lips and letting her taste herself. She was everywhere, in every crook of his mouth, every part of his face, every inch of his tongue, reminding Mikasa of how strongly he made her cum. Back and forth he fucked into her with determination, sliding in easily as her sex was drenched. Her black nails were at his back, carving into the skin, marking him with bloody wings over the tattooed ones. The sounds were wet, her moans thick, but Mikasa was Mikasa and she was a beast, impossible to tame and difficult to please.

“More…”, she half-moaned into the messy kiss. “Harder…”

With a groan and a primal need ignited in his lower belly, Eren pushed up into a kneeling position. If Mikasa wanted more, if she wanted to be fucked harder, then who was he to question his queen? Picking her legs up he put them on his shoulder, both on the left, creating a rather tight passage to squeeze through. Holding her ankles together with one of his hands, Eren anchored himself with the other and resumed the moves from earlier, picking up the pace.

Mikasa’s vision was beginning to swim. Her sounds were rising, her chest was heaving more and more, the way she panted for air was making Eren harder than diamonds. She wasn’t idle either, her hands moved, playing with her own breasts while he watched. It was arousing as hell to see, the way her slender fingers rolled the erect nipples between them, when she pinched and moaned out loud. Now it was Eren who wanted, no, needed more, overtaken by a desire to give Mikasa everything she deserves.

He needed to be closer to her heat, closer to that divine being that Mikasa was, so he pushed forward to do so. One of her legs back on the bedding, Eren kept a firm hold on the other as he spread her as wide as she could go. Mikasa groaned at the burn his move produced in her muscles, her legs being forced into a very wide angle, but it was a slight ache and easily forgotten in the heat of passion. Mikasa’s ankle was now practically resting above her own shoulder as she was half-doubled over, this position possible only because of how flexible she was. She was completely open to him, wanting nothing more than to be fucked senseless, and Eren did his best to deliver - truly rutting into her, his hips slapping into her ass again and again and again and…

She was going to have welts on her butt tomorrow.

Mikasa was moaning in sync with his thrusts, her Ah-Ah-Ah so much sweeter and better than whatever Eren’s foul mouth could produce. She was loud, no shame in how she let her pleasure vibrate out from her throat and that was music to Eren’s ears. After all, there was no need to keep silent as the animals were the only ones who could hear them. If they did mind the sounds of their lovemaking, they didn’t say so.

Intertwining their fingers, Eren marveled at how small Mikasa’s hand looked in his, how delicate. But when she squeezed and the strength reminded him that she is no helpless flower, very far from it.

It was wet and loud and powerful when he moved in and out of her, his cock soaked by them, by whatever they were doing together. The bed creaked beneath every time he thrusted, but they didn’t care. It felt like heaven to move inside Mikasa because she was so hot and so incredibly tight that Eren could never wish for more. Years, eternity, he could spend it all right at this moment when he is fucking her raw and throbbing pussy, repeating the moves over and over, disappearing and appearing out of her pulsing sex. He could spend eternity, but his physical form disagreed. It was getting too much to handle because it was so perfect, and Eren was not the only one on edge. He could feel it inside, how she pulsed more rapidly, how impossibly tighter she grew, so much that even pulling himself out to push in again was an exertion, a workout for his abdominals.

Eren didn’t understand her dreams, her visions, he didn’t understand why they happened. He didn’t have the faintest idea why he would ever, in any reality or timeline, want to hurt Mikasa. She gave him two things in her existence - undying love and devotion, and Eren could never reject these gifts. But then her muscled sheath squeezed all around his member, deep inside her, and he was reminded of one more gift that loving Mikasa brought.

The best and most intense sex one could ever ask for.

He needed help, anything to push her over first because the wave was approaching and Eren knew he can’t win. Dropping his hand low he located her clit and pressed against it, the effects almost immediate as that nub was more than sensitive at this point. Mikasa’s eyes shot open, a loud groan falling from her mouth when Eren rubbed her weak place at an almost feverish pace. The bed’s creaking was very loud too, the wooden headboard banging against the wall, almost as if the old furniture was protesting against being so shamelessly soiled. He could feel Mikasa’s wetness leaking, trickling down his shaft and down over his balls that kept slapping against her ass, and he knew that she’s right there on the edge.

If he wanted to edge her, if this was one of the nights where he tied her up and tortured her, now would be the time to stop. But tonight was not such a night, so Eren kept moving, stimulating all her weak points, and that was good enough. Her body arched beneath him into that perfect bridge, while she made that adorable face only orgasming Mikasa Ackerman can do when the second climax overtook her. One day, one day he will snap a picture of it in the perfect moment and that will be his gift to mankind.

Her moaning got louder as she came, most likely stirring a few animals from their sleep outside, but Eren loved it. He adored how loud Mikasa could get when she let herself go, when she stopped caring who heard and let her pleasure truly show. Normally she was the silent type, and it was quite a shame because her voice was beautiful and Mikasa could carry a tune perfectly. It took a long time before she was comfortable enough to sing for Eren, but when she did it was an amazing experience. The few times when they visited a karaoke bar were still lodged in his brain.

Now, Eren was making her sing quite a different tune, and it was an achievement for him knowing how good she was feeling, so good that her insecurities melted away and she was loud. But that was not all, as making Mikasa cum first was better for a multitude of reasons – it made him feel great mentally, it made her happy, but also for the selfish reason of being inside her while it happened. There is no way to describe how amazing it felt when she climaxed around him, as her body contracted and released, rapidly repeating that pattern, how her walls collapsed around his shaft and massaged, milking him. In short, it was like the most expensive sex toy in the world made specifically for his cock. Unable and not willing to resist Eren came inside her, filling her with several spurts. Way too much to fit, some of it dribbled out and down on the poor bed, making Eren smirk. They would have to change the sheets and maybe burn the ones that were here now. Filthy didn’t even begin to describe it.

For now though, he pulled out and collapsed on his back next to his sweaty lover, listening to her agitated breathing. The haze covered them both like a blanket, the pure euphoria that occurs after climaxing, nothing but unbridled happiness. Mikasa closed her eyes for a second and Eren wondered if there aren’t more visions going on in her brain, but he wouldn’t pry. If she wanted to share them with him, she would, but they were hers. With a rustle of sheets she turned towards the window, staring out into the darkness and stillness of a forest night, pondering something. At first, Eren wanted to speak up but then the moonlight shimmered over her porcelain skin and his eyes were drawn to the wings on her back. There was no better symbol for her - she was an angel, incredibly free, and when Eren was with her he felt like he could fly.

Mikasa felt his lips at her back, pressing gentle kisses against the skin before he picked up her wrist and did the same there, nuzzling it.

“What are you doing?”, she asked, not even bothering with looking away from the dark forest.

“Admiring your tattoos.”

“Again?”

“I’ll never stop doing it.”, another kiss to her wrist, “They are beautiful, just as you are.”

She giggled and rolled over to rest on his chest, shifting their position. Now they were cooling down from it all, Eren’s hand wrapped around her and gently caressed her hip.

“Hey Miki?”

“Hmmm?”, she hummed from his chest, not stopping the movement of her little finger that traced patterns into the skin.

“What if we bought this.”

“What, the bed?”

“No…”, he snickered, “The cabin. It would be nice to have a getaway from the city and the location is amazing.”

“I thought you didn’t like it.”

“Eh, I’m warming up to it.”, he squeezed her slightly, “Plus with you here, the cabin can be ugly as sin, you are the only beauty I need in the whole world.”

Mikasa snickered and kissed the underside of his jaw for that.

“Way too cheesy.”

Ha, like that would make him stop.

“Well, I am a firm believer in Mikasa supremacy. You could say that it’s my religion.”

Groaning, Mikasa hid her face in Eren’s neck to mask the crazy smile on her lips. Must have been her jittered hormones after the intense sex, the endorphin high always such a wild ride. Because yes, it was cheesy as hell but it felt great to see how much he adores her, about as much as she loved him back.

“Can you stop simping for me and tell me more about the sudden cabin-buyout plan?”

“I’ll never stop simping for you Miki, but I will tone it down if it will make my queen happy.”, squeezing her again, Eren continued with the original train of thought,  “We can rebuild it you know, upgrade it so it’s up to the living standard of the twenty-first century. It’s the location that’s amazing, this close to both mountains and the ocean and not that far away from the city.”

Mikasa pondered Eren’s proposal for a moment, but she knew the answer already.

“Sounds good. We could have gatherings here too, invite friends to take a breather with us.”

“While I’d prefer being here only with you, I guess that we can tone it down a bit if guests were over.”

When she didn’t understand what he was implying, Eren grinned down at her.

“You are quite loud during sex, and the walls are thin…”

The slap she planted on his chest was a loud one, but it did nothing to stop his laughter. Bickering back and forth over nothings, Mikasa didn’t even remember how they ended up kissing but here it was. Soon there was the familiar hardness poking her stomach and with her own embers smoldering, Mikasa was more than up for it.

She rolled on top, proving that if she wanted to Eren had no chance of stopping her. Staring up into her twinkling grey eyes, his smile turned into a small frown on the prospect of spending the rest of the night on the cabin floor. Eren loved Mikasa to death, but she was very bad at controlling her strength in the heat of their passionate lovemaking, and when that combined with how unnaturally strong she was furniture was bound to get destroyed. Or him, for that matter, if the pain in his neck and the scratches Eren could feel on his back were any proof.

“Miki please don’t, I beg…”

“Shh, I promise that I’ll be gentle. Somewhat.”

She leaned back, pulling Eren with her.

“Sit up,” she demanded.

Her desired position was with Eren sitting and her in his lap, bodies all entangled together. Mikasa loved the closeness it brought, like this she could feel every breath, every twitch from her lover. Bracing herself up on her knees, she reached blindly behind herself and found Eren’s length, easily identifiable by how he hissed when her fingertips brushed over it. Yet that hiss was nothing compared to the sound he made once she began angling him, because she let the tip pass over her pounded pussy and then he was close to the other opening, the realization making his eyes wide.

“You want to…?”

“Shut up.”

Mikasa could never do this if he wasn’t so wet, but Eren was drenched and she wasn’t much better, some of the wetness found its way down when she squirted before. Still, it made her grit her teeth when she began sinking, feeling her ass stretched to its limits by his invading girth. Anal was always more difficult, and now when there was no lube or plugs in beforehand it was hard to accommodate what Eren gave her. This was something else yet she kept impaling herself, unyielding. Huffs of breath through her nose, whole body clenching, she worked herself down on his shaft, penetrating her tight muscle ring inch by inch.

The muscles in his neck bulged and Mikasa knew that he’s fighting himself not to thrust up into her, into that tight heat that was sliding down in such a slow, torturous tempo. It didn’t help that he could feel some of his cum leak out of her other opening, now unattended, pushed out by how her inner muscles were forced to work again. Why did this filthiness turn him on so much, that was a question Eren didn’t want to answer.

Instead, he focused on her, on how she felt around him, sinking lower and lower, taking it like a champ. It was Mikasa’s show, Eren was more or less an observer right now, letting her do what she wanted. Yet he had to praise her because there was nothing else like this in the entire world, no one else could be this amazing.

“F-Fuck Miki… You feel too good.”

“S-Shut up…”, she repeated, having trouble speaking too, being stretched so much in that other place.

To stop herself from speaking and to shut Eren up too she mashed their faces together into a messy and wild kiss. And then finally, after several more up-and-down slides, she was fully sitting on his lap, his cock lodged deep inside her ass. It made her pant, the physical exertion, her abdominals fluttering. Watching those muscles move erratically, bathed in sweat as they were, that was a fucking beauty on its own. Eren didn’t even dare to move now, lest he disturbs the short rest Mikasa was taking, her head on his shoulder and the hot breath washing over his back. That was until she nudged his face with her nose, getting his attention.

“Help me…”, she moaned weakly.

“O-Okay... Okay…”, thinking was hard with her all around him, but Eren managed, “Let’s do this together.”

Mikasa nodded and braced herself on her knees while Eren grabbed her hips, lifting her. Together they moved, with Eren helping her along the ride. It was slow, way slower than how she rode him normally, but anal was always different. Mikasa circled her hips, rocked them back and forth, stretching herself more around his girth. Breathe in, breathe out, the unpleasant sting was fading and being replaced by pleasure as her butt got used to having Eren’s cock inside of it. Slow yet picking up speed, it was under Mikasa’s dictatorship with Eren playing the role of a helpful lackey. Willingly.

Her knees scrambled on the bedding and she was pushing herself up by the hands on Eren’s shoulders. Mikasa deemed herself ready for the next stage of her plan, which was finding a better purchase on the bed. Her feet finally found their place and she was squatting now, right on Eren’s lap. And then it was time to truly ride him.

Up and down she bounced, propelled by her powerful thighs, her ass sliding all over his cock, squelching it in its tight embrace. The repeated penetration finally convinced her muscles to give way, albeit just a tiny bit. It was igniting a primal need in her, the way he rubbed her insides, the tiredness burning away. Maybe it was because of her athletic body but Mikasa caught a second wind, spiraling down into a nearly animalistic state. The need for more was back, stronger than ever, so slapping her ass down onto Eren’s poor hips, she grinded into him hard.

“Come on, come on…”, it was coming through her gritted teeth, her gray eyes scorching Eren with the intensity.

“You keep saying how much you love my ass, right?.”, Mikasa practically growled the order, made wild by the overflowing feeling, “Show me.”

Normally, such words would never leave her lips but they were both far beyond normal. She was wild but Eren was no better, teeth clenched to match her. Bracing his feet against the bed he did as she asked, thrusting up to meet her descent half-way. He moved up, Mikasa moved down, their hips slapping into each other in the middle with a smack. Her ass sat down on him hard, crotch loudly protesting against being crushed like this. To help, to assist his feral goddess, Eren slipped his hand down to that squelching wet place. Spreading her open he toyed with her clit, and the multiple stimulations made Mikasa practically howl like a beast. She was an animal right now, an animal in heat reduced to its primal instincts, and Eren was fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to be her chosen mate.

Close, so close, the electricity was everywhere inside her, tickling her brain. Eren attacked with his mouth too, his teeth sinking into her neck before coming up to claim her lips. The kiss was bruising, the way she bounced on his lap too, and several things were nearing their breaking point. Mikasa, because Eren’s fingers at her clit were a godsend. Eren, because Mikasa kept grinding her ass down on him with fervor, her butt clenching so hard around his length that it hurt, reminding him how incredibly strong his lover was. And also the bed, because the old thing was not constructed to withstand this amount of wild pounding. It was a race, race on who would break first, and fortunately for all that was Mikasa.

With a last slam of her hips that pinned him and shook the bed so much that it nearly fell apart, Mikasa’s head tipped back, a wild scream tearing out of her throat as she squeezed him so hard that Eren swore out loud. It was the wild contraction of her muscles that pushed him over the edge to follow her, his cock spurting inside her with his second release, filling her ass with a smaller load. Done, finished and over, Mikasa slipped out of his hands and fell to her side, pulling herself away from his body. They laid there, side by side, catching their breath. The whole world seemed to take a breather, the animals outside wondering what kind of terrible duel took place in the usually peaceful cabin.

“God damn, Miki,”, Eren finally managed, “If I knew that a cabin would drive you this wild I would take you here ages ago.”

She chuckled, but a gust of wind from the opened window made her shiver. The sweat was cooling down and it was rather cold outside. Instinct at this point, she rolled back towards Eren’s heat, laying her hand on his chest, tangling their legs together and leeching shamelessly.

Mikasa was tired, tired from her performance and the long day, tired in the best possible way. She stilled completely and didn’t move, their bodies mashed together in one sweaty and dirty mess. Breathing hard, she could feel Eren’s chest contract beneath her, betraying that he too needed a small break from their intensive lovemaking. Yet resting while there is the mixture of your climaxes running down your thighs is hardly hygienic, so Eren stroked Mikasa’s back to get her attention, fingers tapping the bumps of her spine.

“C’mon, let’s abuse the running water and get cleaned up. This bed needs all its sheets changed or burned and I’m pretty sure that you shouldn’t be sleeping with a double creampie between your legs.”

She took a shuddering breath.

“Eren, I hate you and your dirty mouth so much.”

“Nonsense. Remember how hard you came when I ate you out?”

Done, Mikasa hid her face in Eren’s shoulder, ignoring how his body shook with the laughter.

The shower was surprisingly big, for a rundown shack like this, and it wouldn’t be Eren if he didn’t take advantage of the fact. Mikasa gasped a bit when his finger slid into her still-sensitive sex, looking at him over her shoulder.

“I told you to wash my back, not finger me.”

“I have to my sure that every part of you is clean.”, he leaned closer, “Before I make you filthy again.”

Closing her eyes, Mikasa decided not to fight her fate and let herself enjoy it. The feeling of Eren’s finger was soon joined by another one, and now there were two explorers inside her, poking and probing at the walls. Curling his hand Eren’s palm pressed against Mikasa’s clit, rubbing it slightly and getting her worked up properly. Her lover was right when he called her insatiable because Mikasa’s libido could be nigh bottomless. She blamed Eren – he knew her too well, knew her body better than his own at this point and all of her weak points were etched into his memory. He knew how to touch, how to stroke, where to press and rub and in what intervals. Mikasa’s body was a terrifying weapon, powerful and deadly in the ring, but Eren could turn it into a putty mush in his hands, all her lean muscles melting underneath his touch.

Okay, she could go again. She wanted it too because his fingers managed to re-ignite the fire between her thighs, stroking it higher and higher with every press against her clit. Reaching between her legs Mikasa tugged his hand out, turning to face Eren.

“Pick me up.”, she ordered him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Do I have to?”, he faked a pained expression, “You are so heavy.”

But Mikasa didn’t want jokes now.

“Eren, don’t.”

It was the tone in which she spoke those two words, her icy commander voice that would make him fall to his knees in the middle of a crowded street if ordered him to. It was the one that allowed no argument nor question, only blind obedience.

“Yes, my lady.”

With a grunt Eren picked her up, letting Mikasa wrap her strong legs around his waist. He was grateful for the assistance, as Mikasa’s body was heavy, but if there was one thing Eren could do after all that gym-going, it was holding up his girlfriend. The water beating down on their bodies, her eyes locked to his as she manipulated her hips blindly until his tip was resting against her folds.

“Ready?”

A single nod being the answer, Eren eased his hold on her and let gravity assist them. Of course that Mikasa had to do something, wouldn’t be her if she didn’t. Bracing on Eren’s shoulders, she let herself go slow, super slow, torturing him with the tempo. In hopes of appeasing her, he dropped his head to her exposed breasts, tonguing the red marks he left behind earlier. Mikasa’s tits would be littered with bitemarks come morning, and she was silently very grateful that there were no swimwear photoshoots on her agenda anytime soon. Sure, the makeup artists could cover the marks Eren left on her and Mikasa’s neck often had to be worked on but having them tap their brushes against her chest was something else entirely.

This time around it was no wild pounding, they were both way too exhausted for that. It was slow lovemaking with Eren pulling her up and letting the gravity push her down on his cock, over and over, until the familiar heat awoke and slid into her whole body. Mikasa came with a gasp that she hid in Eren’s shoulder and he was quick to follow, the last bits of his essence squeezed and milked out of him by her inner muscles. And then it was time to truly get cleaned and rest, although Mikasa had a faint feeling that she might not be able to walk tomorrow.

And yes, the morning proved that she was right in that assessment, but Eren was no better. With how hard Mikasa rode him, he had bruises and welts all over his hips, and his neck looked like someone was trying to choke the life out of him. Well, Mikasa did, because her thighs moved on their own while she was cumming and squeezed the poor man between them hard, but Eren was used to it at this point. With both of them out of commission, the next day was spent doing nothing and lying around, giving their bodies time to heal. Still, it was totally worth it.

Two days later, everything was falling into place. Mikasa’s visions were less and less frequent until they stopped completely, letting her know that there was nothing more the cabin could show her right now. All she could do was wait, her visions would come when the time was right.

With the closeness of the mountains they went skiing too, Mikasa acing it as she did anything that is a physical sport. Eren had his issues, not nearly as perfect as she was, but after a few hours of training and guidance from her, he could hold his own on the treacherous devices strapped to his feet. Exhausted from the skiing, they practically collapsed as soon as they were back in the cabin in dire need of rest.

Eren was fast asleep when Mikasa woke, slipping from his embrace and out of the creaky bed. Making a cup of coffee for herself, she opened the door and watched as the sun slowly climbed from the horizon and up. It was so beautiful here, so peaceful, and she knew exactly what to do. Mikasa was meant to be here, this was the place where she would get her last dream, the last piece of the puzzle, the final chapter of the story. Here, she would know what happened to her other self, how she ended up. And taking a sip of the hot beverage, a tight smile spread over the raven’s lips.

Mikasa was looking forward to that.

A rustle of sheets behind her indicated that Eren was stirring about. It was like an instinct at this point – when he couldn’t feel Mikasa next to him his sleep was usually mediocre at best as if his mind is constantly checking if she’s there with him, safe and sound. Mikasa didn’t turn, keeping her eyes on the rising sun even when she heard his bare feet tapping against the wooden floor behind her. Soon she was enveloped in a warm hug from behind.

“Hi.”, he whispered into her ear, kissing her cheek after.

“Morning. There’s coffee if you want some.”

“Hmmm, later…”, he yawned behind her, “I’ll keep hugging you for a bit longer.”

With a smile Mikasa put her hand on his, intertwining their fingers. And feeling it, feeling the fingers splayed on her stomach reminded her of something, a faint feel of memory hitting her again. They stood like this, exactly like this, with Mikasa gazing out and Eren behind her, but there was one significant difference. There was a baby bump on her midriff, beneath their intertwined hands.

Mikasa took a sharp breath through the nose once she realized that, looking down. There was no baby, of course, her and Eren’s hands were nestled against her firm abdominals. But in her mind’s eye, she could see it, and to her surprise Mikasa liked that image. The implant in Mikasa’s arm burned for a second, reminding her of its presence and function.

Her mood was completely shattered when Eren rubbed his cheek against hers, his stubble scratching her and reminding Mikasa of the night before.

“Eren, the shaving?”, she reminded him gently yet didn’t pull away, enduring the feeling.

“Hmmm.”

“I could shave you, you know.”

“That would be nice.”, he pressed a quick kiss to the side of her neck, “Thank you.”

“Could cut your hair too…”

“As long as you don’t give me an undercut.”

“Why’s that?”

“Miki I love you but I don’t want to be reminded of Levi every time I look in the mirror.”, he shuddered behind her, “When he sees us kissing my life flashes in front of my eyes.”

“You have to overcome the fear of my brother.”

“It’s not fear, it’s respect.”

“Oh? And why do you respect him that much then?”

“Because he is so similar to you! It’s like a shorter and much grumpier male version of you who doesn’t love me at all. And that is scary, because I know how much stronger than me you are, and I’d go as far as saying that your brother dislikes me.”

“Just stronger?”

“Well, way more beautiful too, but that doesn’t count with Levi.”

“You have it all figured out, huh.”

“For sure. You are stronger than me and Armin is smarter, so if we ever get into a real conflict I’ll argue with you and fight Armin.”

She laughed at that, marking Eren’s mission of making his angel happy as complete. With that he buried his face in Mikasa’s neck completely, filling his nose with the pleasant smell of her natural scent. She was giggling, the heavenly sound in his ears, and that was simply the best way to start a morning.

“All right then.”, she reached out to pat his cheek, scratching it gently, retaliation for the agony his beard caused her, “Just don’t shit your pants when Levi walks me down the aisle.”

His voice was muffled against her skin.

“You want him at our wedding? Ugh…”

“Eren, he is my brother. Behave.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Giving up on morning Yeager, Mikasa took hold of her coffee with both hands and took another long sip. Maybe roused by the sound Eren raised his head.

“Let me have a taste?”

“Sure, here…”, she almost handed him the cup before realizing what he meant, “Oh..”

With a grin Eren took a hold of her chin, angling her head so he could kiss her. It felt nice, especially when his tongue swept against the seam of her lips and she let him in, touching it with her own. And when he pulled back and smacked his lips, Mikasa smiled because of the raw happiness she felt.

“How is it?”

“Good, I feel like I need a cup myself.”

“Do you?”

“Maybe, let me have another taste to be sure.”

So Mikasa kissed him again and they stood there tangled together while the sun steadily climbed over the horizon. And everything felt right.

[suphoshi]

FRAGILE | Park Chanyeol x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,766

Warning: None! (do beware for grammatical errors though lol not proof read at all)

-

You’re pregnant, can’t see your toes, and the world is falling apart.

Chanyeol still loves you.

-

You stared at yourself in the mirror with downturned lips.

Your stomach hung lower than ever before and when you looked down, you couldn’t even see your toes anymore.

Was my hair always this wiry?

Whoever said pregnancy was a beautiful thing had obviously never seen the hair growing on your legs.

“Babe, I’m home!”

You whined immediately at the sound of his voice and turned around to lock the bathroom door. It had been an hour since you went in there, all to surprise Chanyeol. You hadn’t had sex for going on a month because your nausea was almost constant, and he had been on a week-long business trip. You wanted to do something nice and you couldn’t even stop looking in the mirror long enough to shower.

Was my ass always this big?

“Babe?”

His voice was closer, and you sat on the toilet, holding your head in your hands.

“Don’t come in here!” You yelled.

Thankfully, you had locked the bathroom door because despite your request he tried to get in anyways.

“What’s wrong? Let me in.”

Tears fell down your cheeks and your lip trembled, staring at the chipped paint of your toenails. It only made you cry harder.

Were my ankles always this swollen?

“Go away!”

The doorknob turned again. “Why are you crying? What happened?! Are you hurt?!”

“Not physically!” You retorted.

“What does that even mean? Get out here right now.”

You hauled yourself back up (was it always this hard to move around?) and walked towards the door, pulling it open and staring up at him.

He looked so good. Too good for you. Your face crumpled, lip jutting out. “I used to be so pretty. Now look at me.” He looked you up and down at your request and you closed your eyes, a sob sneaking past your lips. “I’m a hairy fucking potato sack.”

He was quiet, but only for a few seconds while you cried.

“Babe,” you heard his unmistakable laugh as he pulled you into his arms, hands wiping the tears from your cheeks even though they were nonstop. “where is this coming from?! You’re not a hairy potato sack!”

“I can’t even bend over to paint my toenails anymore!” You cried.

His chest rumbled with more laughter and he pressed kisses to your tear-soaked face without contempt. It warmed your heart in the same way it broke it (How can he stand being with me like this?) When he was satisfied with that, he pressed your face into his chest and rocked you back and forth like a child.

It was nice.

Thirty minutes passed before your legs started cramping up and you whined against him, pulling your head back, chin resting on his chest. He peered down at you with a smile that you weren’t ready to reciprocate.

“My legs hurt.”

He moved without question, leading you to the bed and sitting you down.

“Want to tell me what happened?”

You teared up again and he kneeled down in front of you, resting his head on your knees.

“I just wanted to look nice for you since we haven’t had sex in a decade, but I looked in the mirror and just-” you paused, looking at him incredulously. “I don’t know how to make this look nice! And I couldn’t bend down to shave my legs or paint my toenails. And I was going to wear your sweatshirt to be sexy, but I’m scared it won’t even fit! I don’t even know who I am anymore, I feel like I was swallowed by another person!”

He smiled and it took every bit of restraint you had not to slap him. How could he sit there looking pretty and smiling while you were having a complete meltdown?

Before you could yell, he stood up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, turning around and walking into the bathroom.

“Don’t move.” He yelled back just as you were turning around to grab the tv remote to throw at the back of his head. When he returned, he was holding his sweatshirt that you took into the bathroom. He pulled it over your head in silence, fixed your hair when your head poked through and then walked away again. You stood up to fix it, shocked to see that you weren’t as big as you’d imagined since you were still swimming in it, belly only somewhat showing.

“Okay, so” Chanyeol walked in again, but that time he carried a big bowl of water and some towels. He sat it down at your feet and reached into the pocket of his hoodie to pull out a few different colors of nail polish and a razor. “I’ve never shaved my legs, but I figure it’s like shaving your face. Right?”

You stared down at him and felt tears bubbling in your throat.

“Also, do you want…” He looked at the bottom of each different nail polish. “tickle me pink, oh so blue, or the devil’s red?”

When he looked back up at you from the floor, the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You wiped at your face with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “I’m being so annoying and you’re still being nice. What’s wrong with you?”

He stood up and sat on the bed beside you, grabbing your hand tightly. He waited for you to regain some composure and look at him before speaking.

“I love you. And that’s not conditional or when I think you deserve it. I love you crying, whining, yelling, and even when you can’t bend over anymore. I love you from this life to the next. I love you snotty nosed and mascara stained cheeks.” He brushed his thumb across your cheek, and you leaned into his hand. “I love every crazy little corner of you.”

You smiled despite the tears and he lit up, kissing you with so much love that your chest hurt.

When he pulled back you shoved at his chest playfully. “When did you get so cute?”

He scooted back down to the floor and grabbed your foot, propping it up on his knee.

“I’m always cute.” He said with an effortless smile.

You somehow loved him a mile more.

-

“Breathe.”

It was so simple, just breathe. In and out. Chest rises and then falls. Smell the roses, blow out the candles.

Just breathe.

Why was it so hard? Why couldn’t you just breathe?

“I can’t-”

You were cut off by warm hands on your cheeks,  silencing all of your thoughts, a deep inhale of reality that calmed you and reminded you the simple mechanisms of in and out all at the same time.

Your eyes, wide and frantic and scared.

His eyes… calm, loving, and gentle. His thumbs brushed the stray tears from your cheeks and the smile he put on for you left you in shambles.

“You can. Just breathe, like this.” He took a deep breath in and you mimicked him, shaky and full of fear. He released it and again, you followed suit, more tears falling despite the waves of calm that rushed over you.

His breath smelled like mint leaves. He always smelled like mint leaves.

When he smiled, you almost forgot how to breathe again. “See? You can do it. I told you.”

You smiled back, proud that you could do it. Proud that you made him smile. When his eyes lowered down to the all too large baby bump that projected from you, you melted. He rested his hands there and smiled even bigger.

“And you,” he started, and you immediately laughed. “Stop giving your momma a hard time, okay?”

“Yeah, if you could just get your foot out of my rib cage, I think I will be okay.”

Chanyeol’s laugh was harmonious and real. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you leaned into his chest, let him hold you as tight as he could, press more kisses into the top of your head.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

“I love you.” You mumbled in reply.

Two hours later, he was packing your things into the car.

“I think- I think we can wait a while longer, okay? Yeah, let’s wait! I don’t want to go yet.”

You were talking to yourself only. Panic rose in your chest the longer he ignored you pleas, fear bubbling over with the tears rolling down your cheeks as Chanyeol worked on setting up the car seat in the back. You shook your head to no one, gripped your stomach and took a step back, ready to run away.

“Let’s just go back inside Yeol, I can’t go today.” You whined, annoyed that he wasn’t paying attention to you. He simply sighed in response, still fiddling with the car seat.

“We’re going to the hospital, you’re in labor.” He mumbled, finally stepping back, and putting your bags in the back.

“No, I’m not!” You shouted and he shot you an annoyed look over his shoulder.

“Your water broke three hours ago!” He yelled and you tossed your head back, crying to the sky since he wasn’t listening.

“Please, let’s just go back inside! I’m not ready, I can’t do this, I just can’t!”

You were sobbing, fingers trembling, when Chanyeol grabbed your face, pulling it back to his level. He didn’t give you more than a second to process what was happening before he kissed you with every bit of love he held in his heart. Every fear you held dissipated. Every worry on your shoulders lifted. Your heart fluttered; stomach flipped.

He rested his forehead on yours when he pulled away and his eyes bore into yours. He was the loveliest human being you had ever known. Every bad day you’d had for the last few months, every second worth of pain and turmoil you had felt, he took it all onto him in a second and carried all of your sorrows. All of your worries.

His smile brought you sunshine.

“You’re going to be the best mom ever.”

You cried out loud and he laughed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Let’s go get this baby out of you.”

-

Hours, days, weeks later, Chanyeol made sure you knew how loved you were. On your dramatic days, your angry ones. Even the really really depressing days when you hated yourself. His love filled you up and emptied you out over and over and you would never get tired of waking up beside him.

Life was so warm by his side.

Your sunshine.

-

A/N: Hiiiii! So parts of this were actually supposed to be for TG pt II, but it felt so cheap for some reason for my TG Chanyeol and OC. I think I like it much better as a little drabble lol (or not drabble w/e ya want it to be). I wanted to get this out bc I know I suck on updating TG, but i hope this will hold you guys over for a little while!! Writers block has been eating me a l i v e, and it is so frustrating on top of medical issues I’ve been having and my own anxiety/depression stuff. But I’m happy for those of you who will still read my stuff, and I’m so so sorry if I’ve disappointed any of you bc the wait has been so long. Love you all long long time and I hope y’all have the loveliest day!!!! or night <3<3<3

[olympiansally]

I often think about how in ep 26 Light is just silent and alone. I wonder what he was thinking?? I like to think that he mourned for L and regretted killing him but he pushes all of these thoughts deep down. I just want to hear light go "fuck maybe I shouldn't have killed that bastard- WAIT NO WHAT ARE YOU THINKING STOP THIS IS PERFECT EVERYTHING IS PERFECT"

Hmmmm ok so i do have thoughts lmao

This is actually a very cool topic for me because it goes into Light’s emotional complexities which are great and i can talk about for days lmao

And like basically, I agree, but I agree with lots of thought that might not all be coherent and I went into them deep so beware LMAO

So like, even thought Light is very straight forward with his morality and tends to know what he wants in terms of goals and such, I tend to think that Light doesn’t quite grasp the depth of his feelings most of the time. Partially, that has to do with him dismissing feelings as something that’s bellow him, going as far as to say that “that’s how idiot happen”. So a lot of the time, Light either just goes with the first emotion he senses in him and tries to “fix it” so he doesn’t feel anymore or just tries to ignore them all completely.

This instance you’re talking about fits mostly into the first category I think and we see him basically focus all his energy on a single emotion so he doesn’t feel the rest. So, you might not like it, but I actually don’t think Light was mourning L then. Not yet anyway.

The way Light tends to function with feeling isn’t all that smooth, so when L dies and he starts feeling A LOT, Light just grabs onto something he feels enough of to quiet all the rest, but also not so much that he wouldn’t be able to handle and then hyper focusses on fixing that one emotion he’s now feeling. Which is why I don’t think Light was grieving yet, I doubt he would have allowed himself to even acknowledge that he was feeling any type of grieve or sorrow over L being death right away. I mean, that’s a boy who has to be hit over the head repeatedly with his feelings before he relents and faces them. So in this first moment he has to choose something else to focus on and there’s an emotion that I think he would accept and that is close enough to actual grief that he’d be able to channel all his sorrow into it and try to deal, and that’s LOSS.

So now you’re probably like uhh Lu, isn’t loss pretty much just grief tho??

To which I answer kinda, but also no, making it PERFECT for Light at that moment. He absolutely feels the loss of having killed L (he’ll eventually even grow to regret it, but not yet). But loss isn’t necessarily in the realm of grief and here is where Light pretty much just manipulates himself into feeling AT A LOSS rather then feeling WHAT he lost. And that is a feeing he can totally handle. Up til then he’d directed all his energy towards L, towards their game, towards beating him. So now that that’s done he has no idea what to do next. He is lost as in, without direction in those first moments after L dies, so we have Light wandering around without purpose or motivation because he has no idea what to do next now that L’s gone. In truth I don’t even think Light thought he’d get that far, he probably didn’t think he’d get to kill L (which is another topic that i also have loads to talk about but i’ll refrain or this reply won’t ever end jsjwjajsjsk).

In a way, he mirrors L’s own behavior after he had to accept that Light wasn’t Kira (even thought like, he is) and has to let him out of detainment.

Obviously there’s going to be some lawlight here because, well, I can’t help it lmao. But I think it’s VERY telling and of huge narrative significance how completely aimless they both get when they’re disappointed in each other. It just shows how completely they depend on one another to drive them, to give them purpose.

L gets depressed (as he puts it) when he thinks Light isn’t Kira and therefore isn’t the worthy opponent, the equal, he had thought he was. Similarly, Light gets utterly lost when L dies because he feels like L disappointed him, he was supposed to keep challenging him, but now he’s gone. They both loose all motivation when they feel like the other won’t be able to challenge them anymore and while Light eventually gets L back in the game during the Yotsuba arc, L is now dead and can’t bring back Light’s motivation. So Light desperately looks for something else to motivate him and goes into that whole “perfect world” spiral moment.

At the same time, I think when L died Light just felt A LOT in a way he couldn’t deal with. Not only are there MANY emotions, but they are highly conflicting ones. That is actually very well represented in L’s death scene, as Light jumps to catch him and cradles his body as he dies, but also shifts into that creepy grin as the feeling of victory takes over.

Since Light doesn’t know how to deal with ALL THAT he basically distracts himself with finding new purpose and with building his new world and shelfs his feelings so he can deal with them when he’s ready (and uh he never will be)

I also think that from a more subconscious perspective Light gets that desperate to start seeing his new world and rushes to make it happen because that’s how he deals with the fact the HE killed L. It’s his end that justify the means and he need it badly. The perfect world has to happen because there needs to be a reason, killing L needs to have been worth it (and eventually part of the reason he spirals is because he realises it just wasn’t worth it, from a more ship centric perspective). He sacrificed his only true friend, his equal (his soulmate jskwka) to achieve this goal so it NEEDS to be worth it and to be perfect.

So like that’s how i interpret Light’s actions right after L dies. I think in time the bottled up emotions definitely start to spill over and he starts facing what he did but that takes quite some time. I truly think Light would try to avoid feeling for as long as he possibly could and that he just pours himself into building the new world work at first. But the more he works on it, the more he realizes that he wanted L to see it too, wanted the only person who understood him to also understand WHY he was doing all he did. And the more he realizes he can’t have that, that L will never see it, that he’ll never know and that he’s actually GONE, the more Light himself starts to slip and take risks until he eventually loses. Because the truth is that Light refuses to grief L so bad that he becomes haunted by his memory and weighted by guilt.

So no, I don’t think that Light was mourning and regretting in episode 26, but he absolutely SHOULD have been. To me, personally, the fact that he refuses to and suppresses his feelings is what eventually puts him in the state of mind that makes him lose, because his attempts at winning become desperate. It stops being that he wants to win and it starts being about how he has to, how he feels that if he fails, then he killed L for nothing, which he absolutely cannot face. I think he only truly starts to mourn L and to regret killing him once he starts getting bored and lonely, when he notices that building his new world without L to oppose him feels more like a chore then the excitement he had with L and in the end he truly regrets because he understands that without L it just isn’t worth it. So like, in a way, his refusal to mourn L is what makes him unhinged enough to make mistakes and lose.

Oooff that was a lot kajwkajwja

But like you made me THINK so there it is

I also wanted to say that I love the way this fandom does asks, i mean these comments that get us rambling and analyzing things in length are very much awesome, so thanks!!!

If you can’t tell I had a lot of fun rambling about these boys so feel free to ask more stuff anytime 🥰