#its my birthday. i can afford it at least today

[arnold-layne]

it’s my birthday! i am turning 23 :)

the best gift would be leaving a little comment on my two ongoing fics:

in darkness shall you be reborn

as we were falling

or taking a peek at my masterlist

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

[haechwrites]

sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH

prince!lee donghyuck x baker fem!OC (no name!)

synopsis: prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.

wc: ~17.1k

warnings: pet names used only so i don't have to namedrop lol. no other warnings tho!

A/N: this is my second longest fic i've actually finished hehe i'm really happy with this one and now i wish i had a prince haechan lol

-- some things to note first:

THIS FIC IS WRITTEN IN FIRST PERSON. if you see ♔, that means it's in haechan's pov written in third person!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As a child, life is all about the simple pleasures. It didn’t matter that I’d come home to a dark house carrying the faint snores of my mother. I was still reeling from the sweet taste of mangoes on my tongue, the slight dusting of sugar in my hair, and the lingering soreness from laughing in my cheeks. I’d quickly wash up, give my mom a quick peck on the forehead, and tuck myself in bed. Before I know it, the sun greets me again and I meet my grandma outside as she leads me to the palace. This was my routine and for my young brain, there was nothing ever wrong with it.

My grandma is the head baker at the palace. Since the separation of my parents, I have spent my days with my grandma at work. It was all I knew and I was content with it. Every sunrise, I’d have 30 minutes before I had to meet her outside. Together, we’d walk to the palace’s servant entrance and my grandma would give our favorite guard, Doyun, a warm smile and a promise to slip an extra pastry in his meal for letting me tag along. I’d walk past him with a finger to my lips asking him to be sworn to secrecy. He’d always return it with a wink and a small laugh. It was our little promise, though I’m sure no one would actually mind an extra guest on the grounds – especially a mere 7-year-old. 

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! pls like, reblog, reply, whatever!! if u want hehe

[sunlightmurdock]

Ceasefire | 1.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, slight angst at the end, smut, handjobs, oral (f receiving), fem-dom themes

…

“You can’t sleep over.” It’s less convincing the fifth time that you’ve said it, now that your jeans are on the floor and his tongue is leaving a trail of scorching fire from the valley between your breasts to the dip of your navel. Still, he agrees just as compliantly as he had the first time that you said it. It’s a soft sound of agreement, just a hum really — real words would interrupt the adventure his mouth is on, and he just can’t afford that risk.

Teeth dragging across the flesh of your bottom lip, your groan is muffled but nonetheless, it’s out there. He chuckles against your middle, hands pressing into the softness of your waist.

“I’ll leave real early.” He promises into your skin.

It’s pointless trying a sixth time. If you had really wanted him gone, you wouldn’t have finished off those beers, or let him move things upstairs. You wouldn’t be nestled in against your pillows, basking in the way the warm muscle of his tongue knowingly works its way down your body. The hair of his mustache bristles against your skin, tickling where he sucks and nips. He knows this drives you crazy. He knows exactly how you’d want him to continue, working lower until that trimmed facial hair is bristling against your clit.

“Before eight.” You tell him.

“Why? — It’s not even a school night.” Rooster jokes, closing his mouth around your skin, kissing tenderly. Your back twists off of the mattress, keening into the feeling on his teeth grazing the plush skin of your hip. Eyes closed and actively ruining your underwear, you still breathe out a soft chuckle.

“Because I have thirty children coming tomorrow and expecting a Bluey themed rager, and I don’t think my daughter would appreciate my boyfriend crashing her birthday party.”

His tongue halts against the band of your underwear. By the time you realise what you’ve said, Bradley has already pushed himself up and is grinning down at you.

“You just called me your boyfriend.” He points out. Sitting there with that silly little grin on his face, dog tags dangling between his sun-soaked pectorals, studying you like you belong in the Louvre.

Sandalwood and vanilla fill your nose, proving to you that at least one of your senses can take in something other than him. That pretty smile and those big brown eyes might make you feel like a schoolgirl, but at least you’ve got your wits about you enough to inhale a deep breath of those scented candles flickering away on your dresser.

If you can manage that, just the one deep breath, taking in those undertones of bergamot and cedarwood, you can manage to find your footing even under the weight of that perpetual puppy-dog look on his face.

Lifting your leg, Rooster’s gaze drops from your face, his grin stretching so wide you wonder if the corners of his mouth are aiming to meet his earlobes today. He watches with that big, dumb smile on his face as you press the tip of your toe against his washboard-esque, toned middle.

“Yeah.” Just that one word makes it so clear that you’re daring him, but, in case there was any doubt on the matter, you make it that much clearer for him. One eyebrow quirked, the corner of your mouth twitches. “I also said that I’d let you sleep in my bed tonight. Makes me think it’s your turn to do something nice, don’t you think?”

His lips part, like he’s going to answer you. That look behind his eyes tells you that he’s really thinking about it; trying to think of something witty and sexy — but that hasn’t ever been his strong suit. His whole life, he’s been putting his foot in his mouth and spitting out the wrong thing. But, he doesn’t need to form a word to give you the answer you want.

Lids lowering over darkened eyes, a low growl rumbles in his chest as he drops down onto the bed beside you and grabs hold of you, manhandling you onto him. Even when he’s got you where he wants you, your thighs hugging either side of his jaw, he doesn’t grow any more gentle.

It’s the perfect view, watching the way his eyes close in delight as he drags your soaked sex down onto his mouth. The veins in his tanned hands, snaking all the way along his forearms, up into his biceps as he clutches at your thighs. His blunt nails mark your skin as his tongue greets you.

He hums into your flesh, pulling you tight against his mouth, licking a slow line upwards, savouring your taste. Just like that, he blinks slowly and stares up at you. It would be cruel, with him working so hard, not to give him a little show. His eyes widen slightly as your fingers gently card through his curls, swiping them off of his forehead with a tender touch.

“You like that, Bradley? — Letting me make a mess on your face?”

He blinks slowly, gripping your thighs so tight he might actually leave a mark. Your mouth spills open into a sultry oh that has his cock twitching in his boxers. Your hand strokes gently along his temple, following the curve of his eye socket before it heads back for your own body.

Rooster watches you all the way, licking languidly at your sex. Your hand travels your naked torso, inching its way upward until your fingers curl into the flesh of your tit. Leaning your head back, you hum graphically and swipe your thumb over your nipple.

“That’s it, baby,” You tell him, feeling the way his talented mouth stutters. “Making me feel so good. You’re gonna be a good boy and make me cum on your mouth aren’t you?”

This time, his hands abandon your thighs. Good boy, baby. It all makes him hard, but his muscle reminds you how much of a man he is. He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands, angling you impossibly closer against his face and burying himself in your soaked cunt.

Nose bumping into your clit, your arousal soaking his face and the deep rumble of his groan sending vibrations through your body. This is getting him off just as much as it’s getting you off and Bradley isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. He wants you to know it.

His lips latch around your clit, those pretty brown eyes widening as you lean back and brace one hand against his abs, taking control. You rock yourself against his mouth, fingers searching across the rigid planes of his firey hot stomach for purchase.

“Keep talking.” He demands, pausing just briefly to spit out the instruction before he’s tonguing at the sensitive bud between your legs once again. This time, he keeps his attention right there, squeezing his eyes shut, groping at your ass.

A devilish smile crosses your face as you reach forwards with your free hand and grab a hold of those pretty auburn curls. He lets you guide his mouth, switching between sucking at your clit and making you jolt against his mouth, and trailing his tongue through different cycles of literature until you’re moaning his name.

“That’s it, Bradley — just a little more, you can give me a little more, can’t you?”

Of course he can, and he’s so desperate too. One of his hands abandons its quest to bruise your ass and two of his fingers are trailing through your arousal before you can even ask him for more. You’re soaked enough that they slide in easily, curling against your plush walls, twisting until he finds your g-spot.

“Oh, fuck — that’s it. Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.” You beg him, riding his face as his fingers thrust into you, his tongue lapping eagerly at your increasingly sensitive clit. All at once, he sends you hurtling towards your orgasm, and you’re more than happy to give him all of it. He couldn’t stop now anyway. Even when you’re spent, and panting hard, trembling as you lift yourself off of his jaw, he’s following you away.

He chases you backwards until you’re planted in front of him and he’s kneeling between your legs.

“Mm, you’re such a good boy, huh?” You sit up, kissing his mouth softly, feeling the way he presses into you like he’s proud to share the taste of you that’s on his tongue. He hums happily as you card your fingers through his head. His mouth hangs open as you turn your head and kiss softly at his earlobe. “Now fuck me like one.”

You wish you could blame him for him still being here now, at ten. It’s not his fault, really. It’s just that there’s something about seeing him asleep in your bed that makes you so hot.

Physically hot, like a flush that spreads through your body and won’t go away until you’ve gotten what you wanted. Too warm from the very beginning, light peeking in from behind the heavy curtains and Rooster draped over you like a blanket — it’s becoming a cherished part of your morning routine to have to push him off of you.

After sex, Rooster always sleeps like a baby. He doesn’t even stir when you pad off to the bathroom. Your ex-husband had always been an early riser.

Now, these sunny mornings are all your own. Brushing your teeth and taking time for yourself. Fixing yourself a cup of coffee before wandering back upstairs to check if the man in your bed is blinking those pretty brown eyes yet.

No. All heavy breathing and tangled sheets, he has twisted himself onto his back and is snoring softly. One hand under the pillow behind his head, the other strewn out across the side that you usually occupy.

Even better than the mornings to yourself: being the one who gets to wake him. Your mouth starts off on his knee. By the time you’re licking at his chest, nipping your way towards his mouth, he’s humming tiredly and reaching out for you.

One of his hands finds your face, smoothing your hair back softly as he blinks his eyes open. He was smiling before he had even opened his eyes, feeling the chill of the room as you had pulled the covers slowly off of him. Your warm mouth, licking and biting along the ridges of his abs as his fingers spread across the sheets.

“Shit, Hyde…” He’s already rock hard and straining against his boxers — as he wakes up most mornings, struggling not to push his hips up eagerly in search of your touch. “Can you take this off?”

Smiling at him, you compliantly peel the nightie over your head and lower your mouth. He bites his lip as you watch him through your lashes, licking at his navel. You follow his happy trail, your mouth so close to his skin that his erect cock strains against your throat through his boxers.

From the second that you’ve got your mouth wrapped around him, he hisses sharply and digs his heels into the mattress for leverage.

“That feels so good.” He pants, brows drawing together as your bob your mouth slowly along his length. Chest heaving, he almost squeezes his eyes shut but he can’t stand to tear his gaze away. Neither can you.

Never in a relationship before have you cared about pleasing a man quite like you have with Rooster. It’s hard to help, the addiction to those flushed cheeks and parted pink lips comes quickly.

He shudders as you rake your nails along his taut stomach, letting his head fall back, moaning unashamedly. He’s never afraid to let you know how good you’re making him feel.

But, you’re interrupted. Your eyes flicker up to his, his head lifting swiftly off of the pillow to stare at you with wide eyes as your phone rings through the room. He whines softly as you pull your lips off of him and lean across to grab it.

Pressing it to your ear with one hand, Bradley stares with wide open eyes as you stroke his cock with the other. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he settles back down against the pillows and exhales softly. He trusts you, sure, but he hopes this phone call is a fast one.

“Hi, how’s it going?” You smile at the sound of your friend’s voice. Bradley curls his fingers into the sheets, pressing his mouth firmly closed. He swallows thickly, watching your hand move in a twisting motion along his cock.

Your smile fades at whatever you’re being told on the phone. He whimpers under his breath. “Oh no, really?”

“Hyde.” Rooster whispers, shifting his hips uncomfortably. You take no notice.

“No, of course,” You hum, giving an understanding nod of your head as your thumb swipes through the pre-cum gathered on the tip of his cock. Bradley’s lips part and this time his mouth hangs open. Heat spreads across his cheeks. “No! It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known that he would get sick.”

“Hyde.” Rooster whines quietly, staring at the way your hand works around his cock. The way your breasts are right in front of him and your nipples are hardened in the morning air.

“I’ll figure something out. Really it’s okay.” You promise, far more focused on the phone call than you are on the man in your bed. Rooster grits his teeth and closes his eyes. His breathing grows deeper as he tries to calm himself down long enough for your conversation to come to an end. It’s no use.

Your gaze flickers back down to him as he grabs the pillow from your side and presses it tight over his face, making you stop mid-sentence. “Totally, thanks for—“

He grunts into the pillow, jolting as he cums hard into your palm and across his stomach. Your mouth drops open, staring down at the mess he has made in your hand, lips twisting up into an amused grin.

“Letting me know. I’ll call you later.” You finish, hanging the phone up quickly and tossing it out of the way. Rooster groans hard, panting as he pushes the pillow away.

“Fuck... I tried to warn you.” He mumbles, his entire face pink now. Your mouth twitches, smiling softly as you lift your hand and lick it clean. He groans as he sits up and kisses your mouth eagerly. “What was that?”

“My friend. Her kid is sick, so they can’t make it to help set up the party. I should get up, I’ve got so much to do.” You sigh, pushing yourself out of bed and heading for the bathroom. Rooster’s hot on your heels and not just because he has to clean himself up.

“I could help.”

“I don’t want to risk you being here when the kids get home. It’s not the right time for you to meet them.” You explain, stripping out of your underwear and turning the shower on. Rooster shrugs his shoulders as he cleans himself up.

“I could call the guys, get it all done faster. We’d be out of your hair before the kids get here and you don’t have to do it yourself.” He offers. Jake and Javy — you hadn’t thought of them. The look on your face alone has him smiling. He nods, leaning forwards and kissing your mouth softly. “I’ll call them.”

Thirty minutes later, you’re pulling open the door to two of your smiling students. As they step past you, you swallow at the thought of them being in your home — Rooster is one thing but inviting the whole class home is another. They grin at you from the other side of your front door, and it’s a little too late to change your mind.

“Nice place, Hyde!” Coyote compliments as he looks around the living room. Rooster jogs down the stairs pulling his shirt over his head, stumbling into the garment. Jake shoots you a smirk.

You inhale deeply and exhale. “Alright, this party starts in three hours and we’ve got a lot to do. Javy, you’re on balloons. Jake, you’re on banners. Rooster, can you figure out the bounce house with me?”

They all give you curt nods. This isn’t the first time that they have heard you give orders, they know what to do. Standing behind you, Javy reaches behind the couch cushion and lifts Rooster’s belt from behind it. Jake’s lips quirk up into an amused smirk. Rooster presses his lips into a line. This is your kid’s big day and as much as he loves his friends, he isn’t going to let them screw around.

As you turn and walk outside, Rooster snatches it back and shoots his friends a look each. They’re left in your living room with an array of orange and blue decorations.

“Crazy that if this works out then Rooster’s going to have two kids on his hands.” Javy muses as he drops down to the couch and pulls the balloons into his lap to begin inflating them. Jake cranes his neck to stare through the window into the back yard.

“One of them’s practically a teenager too.” Jake hums as he picks the birthday girl banner up from the coffee table. “Not to mention having to deal with Cyclone on holidays and special occasions.”

This makes them share a look. Then, their attention turns back outside. Rooster’s got his hands on your waist — Jake and Javy can’t hear but he’s telling you that everything’s going to be okay. You’re smiling at him, leaning into his touch.

Maybe it’ll be worth it.

The three hour countdown weighs in heavy. Bradley’s determined not to let the burden fall on you, even after it takes forty minutes just to figure out how to inflate the bounce house.

“Do I sound— Woah!” Javy whoops, voice distorted and cartoonish from the helium. Jake snickers from his spot on top of a chair, pinning balloons around the doorframe in an arch of pinks, yellows and whites.

At the sound of laughter, Rooster marches into the room and scowls seriously at the two of them.

“Can you idiots behave for five seconds? Put the helium down. Damn it, Hangman! You’re supposed to be grouping them in bunches of three.”

You’ve seen Rooster in action. He’s a good pilot with the potential to be a great one. He could be a great leader, but he’s got a temper that he’s trying hard to keep under control in work. Today, you see exactly what you knew he could be.

Taking charge, ordering his friends around your house with confidence, but still a personable touch. He cares for them. He wants them to get it right. He wants to get it all right, for you, for your daughter.

“So, you’re going to bring us birthday cake as a thanks on Monday, right, Hyde?” Hangman asks, frowning in concentration as he straightens out the birthday banner. Rooster, holding the other end, peers back over his shoulder at you and smiles.

“I guess that’s the least I could do.” You answer, watching amusedly as Jake tries to tug the banner straight and Rooster fights him every step of the way. Behind you, the doorbell buzzes. “One sec.”

You trail through the house, listening to Javy singing softly along to early 2000s pop as you pass by. Twisting the door handle, your face instantly drops. Beau is standing outside, wearing his regular jeans and t-shirt combo, with a cast wrapped around his wrist.

Beau swallows as you step closer, blocking the door with your body. He raises his hands in defense.

“I’m not here to start trouble, I swear.” After snapping his own wrist like a twig trying to hit your boy toy, Beau figures he should try to lay off all the anger before the Navy sticks him in one of those therapy groups. You stare at him, waiting for him to explain himself. He’s not welcome in your home after the shit he pulled this week, and he’s not coming in without an explanation.

Truthfully, he doesn’t even know why he still rang the bell after he saw the cars in the driveway.

“I heard Lindsay couldn’t make it, I thought maybe you could use a hand… I see now that, uh… — Look, never mind. I’ll go.” Beau mumbles, already starting back towards the door. Already shaking his head. He isn’t looking at you, he’s looking at Rooster. You hadn’t even realized that Beau could see him past your shoulder. Your boyfriend, setting up his daughter’s birthday party.

He thinks back to last year. Taylor’s pirate-themed birthday party had been incredible. Beau had thought he was doing you a favour by staying out of your way. He wonders if he had asked, if you would have let him help.

Probably not. You know him well enough to know that he would have complained, and criticized — the two of you could never pull together something like this.

Beau looks over your shoulder, watching the way that your boyfriend isn’t even fazed by his presence. He’s too busy making sure that Taylor’s day is going to be special.

“Is he… — Are you going to introduce him to the kids today?” Beau stammers, eyes flickering back to you. There’s a sense of pleading in the grey of his irises. Watching you move on is one thing, but watching his children grow accustomed to someone new is something that he just isn’t prepared for.

You shoot a quick glance over your shoulder at the three guys in your living room, then back to your ex-husband.

“No, not today,” You tell him calmly. “I was thinking next weekend.”

He stares back at you. Even over the music and the guys chatting, it’s like you can hear your ex-husband’s heart thundering in his chest. But you’ve spent too long sparing his emotions to back down and change your mind about this.

“Would you like to be there for it?” You try.

Quickly, he shakes his head. His attention is back on Rooster. He studies the way that Rooster takes a moment to survey the room, then goes right back to adjusting. You’re not even watching and the kid still won’t cut corners.

“No.” Beau decides. He pushes his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and meets your gaze once again, steely and calmer than you have seen him in a while. “But I’m… okay with it. He seems like a good guy.”

You raise your brows at him.

“I’ll come back later, once the kids are here. The party looks great. You… you did great.” He tells you, voice growing low and croaky. You offer him nothing but a polite nod and watch him turn away.

…

Tags: @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @khaylin27 @stoncms @shanimallina87 @cool-ultra-nerd @angelmavmurdock @gingerbreadandpaper @mizzzpink @whisperofsong @throwinsauce @perpetuelledaydreaming @n3ssm0nique @thedroneranger @abaker74 @marantha @ghxst-heart @diamond-3 @shawnsblue

[rip-quizilla]

The Boy is Mine (Hannah's Edition)

Thank you @carolmunson so much for coming up with this awesome prompt! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

Click here to read the original prompt, here for the masterlist of everyone's different takes on the idea!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Eddie's romantic night with Chrissy doesn't go as planned, so you do what any good neighbor would do and pull him out of his pity party.

Eddie was an idiot.

He had done everything he could think of to make tonight so romantic that Chrissy would finally see him as something more. See that he was worthy of a girl like her. That he could treat her right, the way a gentleman should. 

Up until now, their relationship had been casual; nothing was set in stone or exclusive. She was free to go on dates with whomever she wanted, they didn’t talk to each other at school or do boyfriend-girlfriend things. Eddie had been fine with that… until he wasn’t. 

He wanted Chrissy to know that he could treat her just as well as her country club boyfriends could. He could be romantic. He was worth more than making out in the back of his van and secret notes stuffed in lockers. 

Today was her birthday, so he’d pulled out all the stops- he’d cleaned the trailer, bought her flowers, made pasta with the fancy parmesan on top. He’d even baked her a birthday cake. Sure, it was funfetti cake mix from a box, but it was more work than Eddie usually went through for a cake. 

“Make yourself comfortable, food’s almost ready!” he gushed when Chrissy had first entered the trailer. She’d taken a seat on the couch, eyes wide as she looked around the kitchen and living room. The coffee table had been cleared of its usual magazines and ashtray, newly set with old yellowed doilies as placemats and silverware, worn porcelain plates with little powder-blue curly cues along the edges…

“Eddie,” Chrissy had said, bewildered. “What…what is all this?”

He’d barely heard her over the cacophony of sizzles and bubbles that surrounded him in the small galley kitchen. “I hope you like Italian,” he threw a smile over his shoulder as he stirred the bubbling tomato sauce on the stove. “It’s your birthday, I wanted to make you a proper dinner. Even baked you a cake!” Eddie smiled, but then widened his eyes in alarm when he remembered that he’d put the cake in the oven and forgotten to set a timer. How long had it been baking for? Eddie couldn’t remember. 

“Shit…” He hissed, yanking open the oven door as angry smoke plumed into the tiny trailer. Eddie waved an oven-mitted hand, frantically trying to clear a path for his vision to see if the cake was at least salvageable… which it wasn’t.

Chrissy sat frozen on the couch, hugging a time-tattered throw pillow to her stomach and toying anxiously with the fringe at its edges as she watched Eddie place a blackened tin of burnt cake on the stovetop. It was like watching a train wreck; Chrissy couldn’t look away, no matter how painful the scene before her got. 

“Eddie, it’s okay,” she said, voice overly soft and sweet, as if she were breaking bad news to a volatile toddler. “You don’t have to-”

“Wine!” Eddie interrupted, excitedly (desperately) remembering the wine he’d bought. He’d read somewhere that red wine paired well with spaghetti and meatballs, so he’d run to the nearest gas station he knew never carded and bought the best red wine he could afford- which was the only red wine at the gas station- but he thought the label looked pretty, so it must be good right?

"I ran out of, like, nice cups,” Eddie said, voice strained as he did a little hop to reach the matching plastic steins on the highest shelf. “Is this okay? My uncle used to be into fancy beer that was apparently too classy to drink from a can, so he got these things. Kinda makes you feel like you’re in an old-timey tavern when you drink out of ‘em, though, which is cool-"

“Eddie-”

Chrissy’s voice sounded strained, pitying- Eddie didn’t like that. It wasn’t how he wanted her to feel on her birthday. “I don’t drink wine much, so hopefully I got the right kind! I mean, wine is wine, right? Can’t be that bad-”

“Eddie!”

He froze. He turned to her, bottle in one hand and a stein in the other. His heart thumped out a warning in his chest. 

“Eddie… if I gave you any kind of false impression, I’m so sorry-”

Nope. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, princess! I’m sorry I burned the cake, that was my bad- I forgot to set the timer, and-”

Chrissy winced at the pet name; he’d only used it a couple times before that, so Eddie had assumed she didn’t have a problem with it… liked it, even.

“When you asked me to come over, I didn’t realize it was…” She took a short deep breath, huffing out the exhale. “I didn’t realize you meant it as a date.”

“I know,” he replied. It was immediate, reassuring. “I know this isn’t what I usually do, and I’m sorry for that. You deserve more than… than secret makeouts after cheer practice, and lying in the back of my shitty old van.” Eddie smiled at her, hopeful. “I can do better than that, and I’m trying-”

“I don’t want better than that.” 

Eddie stopped, stunned. Chrissy winced again. “That came out… wrong. I… I mean, I do want something like that, maybe someday. But…”

Her words trailed off, lips retreating into each other as she bit them nervously, unsure of how to communicate what she meant. 

Eddie knew how though.

“...But you don’t want it with me.”

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with guilty regret. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. If I had known you felt this way-”

“No, don’t worry about it princess.” There was venom in the name now, a bitterness that rivaled the smell of burnt funfetti that still wafted around them. “No harm done. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie-”

“Go home, Chrissy.” He turned his back to her, reaching for the knob on his stove to switch the burners off. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

The venom had left his voice; he’d channeled all of it into the word princess, and now all that was left was resignation. It wasn’t her fault for not liking him; he wasn’t even sure he’d ever liked her. He’d just known that if he could get a girl like her to like him, it might mean he was worth a damn. 

But she didn’t. So he wasn’t. Which wasn’t a surprise to him.

“Go home. Celebrate your birthday. It’s okay.”

And she did. She got in her car, brows pinched with painful sympathy, and drove back home. The spaghetti got cold and the cake was tossed in the trash, leaving Eddie with far too much pasta for himself, an unopened bottle of red, and a container of vanilla frosting. 

And then there was you.

Your trailer sat parallel to the Munsons’, a modest one-person camper on the opposite side of the dirt path the Forest Hills considered a road. You kept a plastic lawn chair and a rainbow beach umbrella in your front “yard” for days when the sun was warm enough to relax outside. Today was one of those evenings where the light was still bright enough for you to see your notebook, perfect for watching the sunset and sketching whatever caught your eye.

Today’s trailer park still-life didn’t disappoint. Your neighbor, Eddie, sat on the concrete stoop eating vanilla frosting- all by itself- with a spoon as he stared dejectedly at the horizon. Sad as the scene before you was, you loved the sketch that was taking form in your small spiral notebook of the forlorn metalhead. As if the picture couldn’t get any sadder, beside him sat an unopened bottle of cheap wine that you had every confidence he planned on drinking without a glass. Sure enough, you watched as your neighbor let out a heavy sigh, put down the frosting, and grabbed the bottle of wine. 

He started wrestling with the foil over the top of the bottle, sighing with relief this time when he finally removed the foil but groaning to himself when he saw the cork in the top. You couldn’t help but laugh when he whipped out a knife from his back pocket. 

“Please put that away,” you called over to him, closing your notebook and placing it on your seat as you stood up. “You’re going to hurt yourself!” 

Eddie glanced up, seemingly surprised you were there in the first place; he must not have even noticed you. You disappeared into your camper before he could say a word, reappearing a moment later with a wine key in hand. 

He made no move to stop you when you took the bottle, easily twisting the corkscrew into the soft stopper and leveraging it out in seconds. You smiled at the satisfying pop that echoed against the metal walls of the Munsons’ trailer. 

“Thanks.” Eddie said, accepting the wine from you with a nod. 

“You can thank me by promising you’re going to eat something more filling than frosting before you down that.” You nodded to the freshly opened bottle in his hand with an eyebrow raised.

Eddie stared back at you, his expression hard as he raised an eyebrow to meet yours. “I’ll be fine.”

Oh. You didn’t like the self-destructive undertones of that response. 

“Didn’t take you for a wine drinker.” you mused. “Let me see that label again?”

Eddie sighed, handing it to you begrudgingly. You recognized the label; it was the only cabernet you’d been able to afford in your early days of being legal drinking age. You’d never gone to college, choosing the starving artist life over classes you didn’t care about and student loans you’d be paying for over a decade. Technically, you still referred to yourself as a starving artist, but at least now you had a decent savings account and could afford a nice bordeaux now and again.

“Man, this stuff takes me back.” Eddle looked at you curiously, so you elaborated. “I used to get these constantly, it was the only wine I could afford to buy in my early twenties.”

“That can’t have been too long ago.” Eddie replied, a bit of a smile dancing on his lips. You smirked, handing him the bottle back. 

“It wasn’t,” you said wryly, “but it wasn’t yesterday either.” 

Eddie chuckled, taking a swig of the wine before immediately twisting his face with wrinkled disgust. “Oh my god,” he half gargled the words, promptly spitting the wine into the dirt beside him. “This tastes like shit!”

You laughed, taking the liberty of grabbing his bottle and taking a gulp for yourself. The taste was familiar, but certainly wasn’t pleasant. You cringed slightly and shook your head. “That would be why it’s so cheap.”

Eddie stared at you, aghast. “And you said you like that?”

“Never said I liked it, just drank a lot of it.” you giggled as the young man shook his head with his tongue hanging out, face scrunched up like a baby whose parents had handed them a lemon slice. You cocked your head, still smiling. “You know, whatever’s bothering you isn’t going to get better after a bottle of shitty wine and some frosting.”

That sobered him up quite a bit. Eddie’s gaze turned cold as he frustratedly grabbed the frosting and resumed shoveling it into his mouth. 

“Yeah, well…” he harrumphed around his heaping bite, “...beats going back in there and cleaning up the biggest disaster in the history of failed dates.” 

Your smile fell, empathy plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.” 

So Eddie told you about Chrissy. How he had delusionally hoped he could be boyfriend material. He relayed the events of the evening to you in all their excruciating detail, and the entire time he waited for your face to mimic hers, to display the same sympathetic pinch of her eyebrows that said Oh, you poor, poor boy. How did you not see this coming? How could you have expected any outcome other than this?

But you didn’t. The only thing he saw in your eyes the entire time was understanding. 

“I’ve had my fair share of disastrous failed dates,” you sighed. “Yours is by far not the worst.”

Eddie laughed ruefully. “Oh yeah? What could be worse than a guy who misreads an entire relationship so bad that he fools himself into thinking it was even a relationship in the first place?”

“Oh don’t be like that,” you scolded him, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s not even true! From what you told me, you had a relationship with this girl, even if you hadn’t officially defined it. She gave you no indication that she didn’t want a traditional, romantic relationship with you, and it wasn’t wrong in the slightest for you to want that with her. The way tonight went down sucks to say the least, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong here.” 

Eddie was quiet, and you were keenly aware of the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. When he made no move to speak, you continued.

“For all you know, that was the first time that someone had done something so romantic for this girl. It’s possible she was so overwhelmed at your thoughtfulness that she simply didn’t know how to break it to you that she didn’t feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t appreciate what you were trying to do for her-”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” he griped. 

“Well it should!” you retorted, voice rising an octave. “You showed that girl that she is worth flowers and Italian food and wine and birthday cake! So many people walk around like they don’t deserve things like that, but in reality we all deserve to know what it’s like to have someone care about us like that.” You huffed out a deep breath; you were working yourself up over this. “Now, at least that girl knows the standard that every guy should have to live up to from now on.”

Eddie’s eyes were trained on you, ignited by the passion with which you spoke about the worthiness of love that everyone apparently had. He wondered if that passion came from a place of experience, or a place of longing for the sorts of romantic gestures that he’d tried to gift to Chrissy.

“Has someone done those kinds of things for you before?”

Now it was your turn to go quiet. You looked down at your lap at the wine bottle in your hands, remembering how many failed dates had left you home alone with this exact bottle on your counter. How many works of art had come from that loneliness, and how many times those works of art had sold for just enough to pay for that week’s meals. At least something useful came from all those lonely nights.

“No,” you whispered, “that’s why this Chrissy girl is so lucky. Even if she didn’t want what you were offering her, she at least knows how it feels to be valued like that. Let’s hope she chooses not to settle for less.” You took a swig of wine as Eddie eyed you curiously. “Lord knows I settled for less a few times, and look where that got me.”

“Drinking shitty wine in a trailer park?” Eddie supplied.

You smirked at him. “Well, I could also be eating frosting with a spoon.”

Smiling wryly, Eddie looked down into the half-eaten container of frosting, then offered it to you spoon and all. You eyed it for a moment, then accepted.

You wrapped your lips around a generous bite of the sugary substance while Eddie took another crack at the wine. He cringed of course, but muscled through, sighing as he stared at your little camper across the road. 

“So does this mean I’m destined to become you? Single and doodling under a rainbow umbrella?”

Eddie’s tone held no malice; nothing but sarcasm and mock dread for his future, but you shoved him with your shoulder nonetheless. 

“Hey, now, don’t be mean.”

“Do you at least have a cat or something?” he leaned into your shoulder, lazing his weight into you like a sleepy child. “I don’t exactly want to be a crazy cat lady, but one or two cats might sweeten the deal if I’m fated to be a trailer park bachelorette.”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” You laughed through the words, pushing him off of you and handing him back the frosting container, but not without licking the spoon clean and bopping him on the forehead with it. He may have been a little too focused on your tongue as you cleaned the spoon, but you didn’t notice.

“If you must know, I do have a cat.” you said. “His name is Fibonacci.”

Eddie nodded. “I’ve seen him in your windowsill. He’s gray, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him. I have to open the windows whenever I paint because of the smell, and whenever I do he assumes his favorite spot to soak up the sun and keep watch over his domain.”

That earned you a chuckle. “His domain, huh? He own the whole park?”

“He certainly thinks he does.”

“Well, now I know who to kiss up to in case I’m ever late on rent.”

You glanced at Eddie out the side of your eye, admiring the way the light played on his curls. “Y’know, Fibonacci and I are pretty close.”

“Oh you are, huh?” he quipped. He seemed to know where this was going, and chose to play along.

“Kissing up to me is basically kissing up to him.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded sagely. “It is.”

The two of you were facing each other now, the air between you shifting from neighborly to something more. 

“And how might somebody go about kissing up to you? Hypothetically.” Eddie’s voice was a smidge deeper now, and the timbre felt warm in your ears.

“Coffee.” you replied, “At that little cafe on Kerley. They agreed to hang some of my pieces there.” Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance but eyed Eddie with contact that conveyed anything but. “Hypothetically, if someone took me there for coffee and gushed about my shitty artwork, that would definitely land them in my good graces.” You paused, then added, “And by proxy, Fibonacci’s graces.”

Eddie’s grin was blinding as he beamed. “I guarantee your artwork isn’t shitty.”

“Ah, you’re very good at this gushing thing.”

“I’m just getting started.” Eddie placed the frosting container on the stoop behind him, forgotten. He wasn’t hungry for empty calories anymore. “You free Sunday morning?”

Your smile matched Eddie’s now; you couldn’t fight it if you tried. “Pick me up at 10?”

He winced, jokingly unsure. “That’s pretty early for such a long drive to your place, but for you I’ll brave the journey.”

You giggled, standing to make that very journey back across the road. “Oh, aren’t you sweet.” 

“The sweetest.” 

And he was. Eddie picked you up on Sunday, 10 o’clock like you’d planned, with a bouquet of daisies in hand. You immediately began protesting, thanking him profusely but simultaneously insisting that he really hadn’t needed to go through the trouble-

“You remember what you told me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. That was enough to shut you up. 

“You said we all deserve the flowers, the home-cooked meals, the birthday cakes- right?” 

You nodded, clutching the flowers as your face began to hurt from the brilliance of your smile. 

“Well,” Eddie shrugged, “you shouldn’t settle for less.” 

[leota-nexus]

[SakuraBot Mode: ACTIVATED]

Crawling outta the rubble to post I think my first selfie on here? I actually exist! Or something!

I was trying on the bodysuit for a WIP cosplay, grabbed the skirt for a laugh, & completely stopped in my tracks because damn now that's a LOOK!! 💮🤖💖

...Alright I've been trying to edit this post down for a couple days because I don't want this to come off like an advertisement but I gotta be a heartfelt sap for a moment. It's my nature, can't help it. 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♀️ Skirt review & personal ramblings under the cut:

Shoutout to @shopwitchvamp seriously. This skirt immediately replaced the cargo pants I've been living in the last few years. The fabric is so lovely & comfortable, the deep pockets are amazing, AND I can temperature-regulate in this crazy unpredictable weather!!! Hell yeah!

My partner got this skirt for me as a birthday gift because it reminds me of the digital sakuras in Night City that I keep using for virtual photoshoots but also in this Hot Topic Hello Kitty kinda way that just speaks to my millenial soul (🖤🎀🖤) I mean, obviously I'm in love with the design but the weight & texture & movement really made it an insta-fave in a very meaningful way for me.

And then I realized this is the first new piece of clothing I've owned since pre-pandemic. My body's changed so much that basically nothing fits. I had one pair of pants left that was at its limit and for years I've wore it like a uniform everytime I went outside with a baggy shirt to cover up. I got this skirt and suddenly I was styling outfits again, like wtf?!

So my partner & I realized how desperately our depressed neurodivergent asses needed:

new clothes that actually fit

with comfortable textures & fun patterns

that are actually functional & made to last

preferably from small businesses we respect

...And now we text each other about WV restocks lmao

The only problem is that because we couldn't afford anything from the Feb preorders, we figured we'd save up & see what came back in stock next month. Except it came in a month early. So LUCKILY we've already been saving up for this because now I'm waiting for my second skirt & partner's first joggers to be delivered today! And then they restocked more yesterday! And then they announced more restocks next week! Oof ouch our wallets but at least today's payday and now we actually have fun comfy clothes that fit to celebrate our 10 year anniversary together in a few months! 💕

Thank you, WitchVamp! We love you! Now if you'll excuse me I need to go sit by the front door like

"C'mon package... Maybe if I just... ~Booweeoop!~ No? Alright, check the tracking number..."

[ladybirdswritings]

BEAUTY AND THE HYBRID - Klaus Mikaelson Fanfiction

summary: the slip of burlap rope brings an unsuspecting girl into the arms of a vicious, bloodthirsty creature.

warnings: mentions of ab*se, stockholm syndrome, captivity, dea*h, and violence.

next chapter <3 | ao3 | tag list

one

"Oh fuck yeah!"

"Birdie!"

My face tints a rose-like pink, burning at my cheeks as I scold my sister with wide eyes. She is happy today, and that's rare for us. Regardless, happy or not, her sailor's mouth never fails to mortify me. The patrons of this syrup scented diner stare for a moment, but return to their meal soon enough.

Birdie is fourteen today, and her eyes are eager and swimming with starvation as she inhales the powdered sugar air. I can't really afford this, not right now at least. Probably not tomorrow either, but today is her birthday. She'll only be fourteen once and- mom would have done the same thing. In fact, mom did do the same thing. Many times for me. When I turned twelve, we snuck into a cake shop and ate each sugared treat cased in glass displays. That was my favorite birthday.

I am not brave enough or- stupid enough to steal from anyone else. I have done enough of that this week.

"Dude, they have french toast coated in chocolate syrup."

Birdie is drooling now, I smile at her.

"Whatever you want, Birdie."

It's sad, how this is like Christmas for her. A warm meal at a shitty Mystic Falls Diner for the big one four. I will do more, soon. This however, it will be dealt with if I just take over Riley's night shift at the Grille- she won't mind the time off anyways.

The waitress is a strawberry blonde, her legs seem to go for miles. Her eyes are a pretty blue and her smile is tinted pink. Birdie wastes no time.

"Chocolate syrup french toast please! Heavy emphasis on the chocolate syrup... Ooh! And a stack of four pumpkin pancakes with whipped cream and lots of bacon and eggs on the side. Some orange juice too."

The waitress stifles her grin as she jots Birdie's order down on yellow pad paper.

"And for you?"

Birdie looks at me hopefully. I gaze into her eyes for a moment and pretend that my next words will be a request of pumpkin pancakes too.

"Oh that's everything, I'm not hungry."

Guilt floods them,

"I can hold off on the pump-"

"No Birdie, really I am not hungry."

I'm starving. My stomach growls in protest, luckily quiet enough for only me to hear. Birdie believes me, at least I hope she does as she sinks back into the booth.

The waitress smiles sympathetically, nodding once before scurrying off.

Birdie is impatient, drumming her fingers on the cherry wood as we wait. It isn't just the food she's impatient for. She groans.

"Ahhh- apple! C'mon- can't we just take a two second peek at what's in the big dumb thing?"

My brows twitch in discomfort and urgency, and I lift my finger to hush her. Maybe what that man said was all just to scare me, maybe he thought it was funny. It is the month of halloween after all, I have learned in my years here how serious all of Mystic Falls takes it. Still, I don't wan't to take any chances.

I shake my head at her,

"No. Not happening. That dude told us to keep this locked tight under all circumstances."

Birdie only rolls her eyes at that,

"Pfft. That guy was probably just trying to scare us. Ooh! I bet its drugs, or illegal weapons! Or illegal drug weapons!"

I shush her again.

"It doesn't matter what it is, it's not ours. I'm not opening it. I need it safe till midnight, till I get the payout and we get the hell out of Mystic Falls."

Birdie frowns, eyes gazing at the lonely jack-o-lantern glowing golden on the concrete outside.

"You think all that money is gonna buy us real fancy meds for dad? Like ones that'll get him better quickly?"

I wince at the question, I want to say yes but I truthfully don't know. He's worsened this month, I only hope these days. So does Birdie. It's her birthday, I can't make her sad.

"I'm sure we'll figure it out, we always do. Dad's gonna be fine. We're gonna have lots of money, money for medicine and money for unlimited pumpkin pancakes until you're at least forty three."

Birdie nods in agreement with that statement, "fuck yeah." she whispers. She tries to keep it discreet but, I hear it anyways. I ignore it.

The strawberry blonde waitress returns, juggling Birdie's food on a golden arm. She places four plates down in front of my lanky sister, her eyes light up like a million fireworks have ignited within them.

"Brought you a coffee pot sugar, its on the house."

The waitress, Karen, she smiles softly and it's warm like the coffee pot. She throws pink packets of sugar and small cups of cream in front of me. It'll keep me awake, I'm grateful. I thank her as I pour the bitter drink into the mug and breathe in the aroma.

Birdie is devouring her food as if it will up and leave her.

"My my, all this food. Today a special occasion?" Karen inquires, I nod with a warm grin.

"It's her birthday."

Karen gasps, "A birthday!? Well how old are you sweetheart? Old enough to pay the bill?" She jests.

Birdie shakes her head, teeth crushing a mixture of chocolate whipped pumpkin toast topped with bacon and egg. Whatever she could fit in her mouth. "Nope. Fourteen." She speaks muffled with a mouth full of food- her words are hardly audible, masked by her chewing. I repeat it to the waitress.

"Well then, a birthday calls for a special treat don't it? I'll go get one."

I nod gratefully, "Thanks. Hey um- do you guys have a bathroom?"

She points to the right and I slide out of the booth-gripping the white oak case in my hands. I'll bring it with me. I would be a fool to lose it, let alone leave it with my very occupied sister. I almost don't believe it's anything of importance, probably just some cruel prank. My intuition reminds me just how too good to be true it sounds. Yet, I am hopeful this month. So I'm playing along anyways.

My eyes are glued to the case as I walk right, so much so that I don't see the polished boots in front of me. I gasp, accepting the fate of the floor before it even greets me. We never meet. I clutch on to the fabric smelling of maple and bourbon. It tethers me, lifting me to my feet.

It is silent, I meet ice blue eyes.

Christ...

They bore past my very being, into something I don't even see myself. My soul, maybe. He is tall, tall enough that it makes me feel quite small. He has golden brown hair that curls at the tips, and golden brown stubble that surrounds pink lips. His eyes, they're all I see.

I stumble, he steadies me again with two strong hands.

"Holy shit!" Birdie calls, maybe amused- maybe relieved. She saw that, everyone saw that. My cheeks are pink again, as are the tips of my ears. The man's eyes wander around us, and it seems like that is enough for everyone. They all mind their business and return to their meals. As if he just cast a spell to detour their gazes.

His hands still grasp me as his eyes devour my composure.

"Are you all right?" His voice is like honey, stuck in a glass pot but glazing sweetness dripping from the very lid. It is deep, accented. He isn't from here.

I can't speak, I feel like I am crushed under his boot, the same one I tripped over. I only nod.

He releases me, slowly.

His eyes remain on mine, until they don't. He peers at the white oak case with an expression I cannot begin to describe. I watch him for a moment, analyzing. Fear strums at my core... its familiarity- I think. Or maybe I am just paranoid. I gulp, bending down to collect the case in my hands in an instant before he gets the chance to. I gaze at it, praying my fall didn't disrupt whatever lay inside.

He gazes at it too.

I have to speak now, otherwise I will be stuck frozen here.

"I apologize I um- I should have been paying more attention."

He doesn't tear his gaze away from the case. Not at first, for a moment that seems far too long for me to stomach. He breaks, eventually and a part of me is relieved but it seems a bigger part of me wishes he would just return his stare toward the case again. His eyes feel like they're burning through me. Like as if I try and speak again, my voice will falter to nothingness.

"You're alright, sweetheart. On you go."

Sweetheart. It calms the nerves. I nod gratefully, but his eyes returning to what is grasped in my hands just reminds me of why exactly I should be stepping rather than shaking. A gulp, then I am on my way, feet clashing against the noir tiles. Birdie is accompanied by the waitress, I catch glimpse in a napkin holder and sigh in relief as I push through the faded blue door.

I am eager to release the case from my burning hands, I was gripping it tight enough to callous my reddened palms. I throw it on the ceramic sink as the faucet squeaks, my trembling hands splash my pink face with warm water. I heat even more.

The mirror greets my pallid features, sunken in with exhaustion and hunger. It also meets my eyes, swimming with a melting pot of emotions. My breaths are shallow and labored, and my heart is pounding on its cages.

I splash my face again and yet? I cannot shake the feeling that this won't be the last time I see that man again...

[contractbound]

On Birthdays...

Months-old thoughts on my birthday (and birthdays in general), ranging from my current-day speculations on my "birth" to my relationship to the concept over the centuries. Taken from private messages and reformatted more into essay form (albeit a messy one, riddled with author's notes written today).

December 2023 ; 1459 words

In the present day, I oftentimes wonder what that day in April (I can never remember which day) means for me in specific. (Author's Note: Turns out it's the 17th. I was reminded by my friends wishing me a happy birthday on call at midnight last night.) Is it actually the day I came into existence, or does it have some other kind of significance? Since its specifically listed as my birthday, I'd assume it's the former, unless it's a symbolic "birth" in some way, shape, or form.

There's also the issue of how Tey/vat's days and months may differ from Earth's, and the accuracy of this birthday. I mean, it's probably the closest equivalent we have, since I'd imagine there's a "language barrier" (so to speak) between Tey/vat's time and Earth's time that's too severe to overcome. I probably couldn't figure out a "truer" birth date for myself even if I tried (though being canon divergent is always a possibility as well).

Also, thinking about my "birthday" within my and Gen/shin's general canon makes me wonder how I came into existence in the first place. Did I just spawn in? Did I have any form of "parent" or creator? I could be wrong, but my current theory is I simply manifested somehow (as in without the direct and intentional influence of outside sources), more or less fully grown, just obviously naive because I was new to the world. (Author's Note: Cloud Re/tainer's story has since more or less confirmed my suspicions by citing adep/ti as having been "born amongst the elemental energy that courses between heaven and earth", which aligns with my speculations. I find this information very interesting.)

Leaning fully into the topic of canon now, it's probably not that hard to guess how I might have regarded my birthdays during my time on Tey/vat. One thing I was very good at was staying in eternal stasis, specifically in a state of not caring for myself. It's not like I could even afford to care, most of the time. As such, for most of my life I had never once given my birthday any importance, and I doubt I ever acknowledged or even remembered it much, at least not without prompting from other people. (Author's Note: To an extent, I know I'm lying about not being able to afford to care for myself. I definitely couldn't afford to do so earlier in life, but after Mo/rax took me in, it was less of an issue. At times, it was even encouraged. Like I mentioned before...prompting from other people.)

Still, even if I never gave it any importance, I probably still had different views on the concept of "birthdays" depending on what stage in my life I was at.

Very early in my life (I'm not sure the exact timeline but I'm talking the first few centuries or even decades), I doubt I had any awareness of the concept of a birthday, or what significance it had. I was probably more or less aware of how much time i had existed for, but human concepts were not even on my radar.

Once I'd gotten into the habit of looking into people's dreams, I might've gotten glimpses of birthday celebrations, among other aspects of human culture. But since it would only be small zero context glimpses, I don't think that would have given me a thorough grasp on the concept anyway. I'm going to go with the assumption that I regarded birthdays with a little bit of acknowledgement and importance, but not at all towards myself because I wasn't aware that it could apply to me. My understanding, curiosity, and enthusiasm would only have been directed towards others and towards the concept itself.

Under my former god, they gave me a better look at human life and culture, and an even more potent look into their dreams. Something as specific as birthdays were likely never a focus, but would still be one of the many things I'd get to learn more about as I gained a further understanding of humans and how they worked. Unfortunately, this god was one that, at least during the war, resented human life, only seeing it as something to make an example of or use to their advantage. That's a tangent, however.

Basically, they weren't the best teacher for this kind of thing. While that phase of my life greatly deepened my understanding of dreams and anything about humanity that was revealed to me through them, the principles and beliefs drilled into me were cruel, and I acted accordingly. Overall, I'd say I gave the concept of birthdays minimal acknowledgement. The only importance given to it (if any) would probably have been according to the god's agenda. I still wouldn't be applying the concept to myself at all, and honestly my perception of time was probably completely demolished as well.

After being taken in by Mo/rax and having all the other Yak/shas with me, I was a lot more closed off towards the world. I was no longer curious or adaptable, and only wanted to focus on fulfilling my contract (i.e being nothing more than a weapon). The other Yak/shas did not share this sentiment, and were endlessly curious about mortal life. Of course, Mor/ax didn't share my sentiment either. Being our god, he had no intention to completely distance himself from the humans he had to protect and govern.

In the case of the other Yak/shas, if they knew their "birthdays", or picked some for themselves, I don't doubt they'd want to celebrate themselves and each other whenever the day came. Thinking about it, I get the feeling that if our birthdays were symbolic, chosen dates, we'd pick the days Mo/rax took us in...but that's tangential.

The others wouldn't let me off the hook until I told them my "birthday", and then when the day rolled around, wouldn't let me off the hook until I celebrated with them. I was stubborn, and considered it frivolous, but couldn't avoid them without feeling at least a little bad....so I let it happen. I was forced to acknowledge the occasion known as the birthday and give it importance. Not just as a general concept, either, but specifically mine and those of the people closest to me.

Well, I say "forced", but honestly, i came to enjoy it over time. Not that I'd ever admit it then.

As for the general concept and human customs, I closed myself off from that and stopped feeling curious. It really felt best to distance myself from mortal affairs as best as I could, and not involve myself more than necessary. Still, it was hard to completely distance myself when I had the others to forcibly involve me.

In the centuries following Fu/she's disappearance, I was completely closed off and truly lived only to fight, save for a few foolish personal endeavours. I could probably ramble on about this period of my life in general, but specifically in the context of birthdays, I don't think I have any insight.

Finally, in the time after meeting Aether...in many cases, it was like being back with the others. He developed a stubborn interest in me, and made me open my eyes to the world around me again. For the first time in centuries, I allowed my birthday to be acknowledged and celebrated.

The first time he wished me happy birthday and prepared a celebration for me, it was probably quite jarring. Honestly, I don't know if I ever got fully used to it. But I did eventually come to enjoy it. Over time, I opened up and let myself be curious again, and with Aether living regularly among mortals, I got to learn more than I ever had, with no strings attached, no ulterior motives. I doubt I ever came to fully embrace/understand mortal traditions, maybe calling them frivolous or confusing, but inside I enjoyed learning, and most of all sharing it with him.

Overall, this is probably the most (healthy) acknowledgement and importance I'd be giving to my birthday, and slowly I'd be letting myself be curious about birthdays as a general custom too. I'd also come to look forward to Aether's "birthday" as well, whether it was actually the day he came to be, or something symbolic.

I could never forget any other friends I'd let into my life, either. My social circle grew over time, and I had bridged many gaps between myself and the people around me. Most memorably, I grew closer to the other adep/ti, and occasionally joined their festivities.

Perhaps between immortals, the concept of a "birthday" works differently from how mortals go about it, but the sentiment stays the same.

[katsushika-division]

ARB Birthday Special: Rintaro Himura

 ~~ July 16th ~~

“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”

Login Lines:

“Eh? What the hell are you here for? My…birthday? …Fuck it is today, isn't it?”

“To be honest, I don't care much about celebrating my birthday, but I guess thanks for reminding me.”

Voice Lines: 

“I can't believe I forgot my birthday. *sighs* Whoop de fucking do. It's just another day. I don't see what the big deal is.”

“Let's see what people sent me today for my birthday. Death threats from people whose loved ones were my victims? Check. Fucked up love letters from rabid fangirls saying they want my children? Check. Honestly, I prefer the death threats over the love letters.”

“God, when was the last time I had a decent birthday anyway? I can't remember. I'm pretty sure it was at least before my bitch of an egg donor ran out.”

“No wait. The first birthday I had after Akari was born that…was pretty special. Akari was a couple of months old by then, and she was already trying to say more than that "goo goo gaga" shit. I guess she was just waiting for the right moment because on my birthday she said her first word. Rin-nii. I remember feeling so proud back then.”

“Eh? What the hell do you want, Old Man? Damn getting soft, aren't we? Well, aren't I fucking special? *smirks* Made it my mission to personally annoy you till the day you die, Old Man. Alright, alright, thanks for getting me something then.” 

“Damn Old Man, this is actually pretty useful. God knows how many times I've crushed them. Eh? You’ve been smoking these motherfuckers for how long? So you can't tell me shit about smoking. Alright, you got yourself a deal, Old Man. A mistake I'm sure multiple fuckers regret. *pauses* Also…Akihisa…thanks for everything.” 

“Goddamn it, Touya, it's just my birthday. You don't have to make a big deal out of it. Fuck…alright Touya, we can celebrate it. Just stop staring at me like that, you little shit. Do I even wanna know what you got me, Touya? *sighs* Alright, let me see it then. I swear if it's a knife from your collection.” 

“Oh shit, this is actually really nice. At least it's something that actually suits my style. *sees pricetag* Uhh…Touya? How the hell did you afford this? *blinks* Oh gross! I did not need to know that you fucking sex fiend.” 

“There you are, Akari. I haven't seen you at all today. Don’t tell me you’re trying to avoid your big brother. *pauses* Akari just…just having you back is the best gift I've ever received. Well, I'm kinda curious now. What did you get me?”

“This is a cool figure you got me Akari. *jumps* Oh fuck it just moved and…it's flying around now. *whistles* Holy shit you built this Akari? Wow…I'm stunned. I've never seen anything like it. Ouch! Motherfuck just shot fire at me?!? Huh? Well, that'll come in handy. Shit, I was never good with names but…how about Astaroth? He does, doesn't he? Well then let's get along Astaroth.”

Akihisa Lines:

“Rintaro, I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to give you something considering it's your birthday. *snorts* Hardly, but I suppose I'll make an exception just for you today. Have I ever told you how much of a little shit you are? You know you could be grateful that I even got you something, Brat.” 

“I know how much you hate it when your cigarettes get crushed so I got you this case for them. Perhaps one day you’ll reach a point where you give up smoking those cancer sticks. I’ve been smoking longer than you've been alive, but I’ll make you a deal. You cut back on smoking, and I’ll do the same. Don’t want you dying too early. *sighs fondly* Seems like it was yesterday you were forced into my prison cell. *ruffles hair* Don't mention it, Rintaro.”

Touya Lines:

“Rin-chan~! Happy Birthday! Nuh-uh, birthdays are really special. That's what all those movies say. It's also your first birthday since we got out of prison. So we have to celebrate it! *pulls out puppy eyes* Yeah! I have so many things for us to do today. It's gonna be so much fun! Ah! I got you a present too! *giggles* Here!” 

“I saw the jacket in the window of a store one day and thought it would be perfect for you. Hm? Oh, I just told the store owner I would [CENSORED] and [CENSORED] if he gave me a discount on the jacket. What? You asked!”

Bonus! Akari Lines:

“Rin-nii Happy Birthday. *nods* Ah, yes, that. It's your birthday and the first one we've been able to celebrate together in a long time. So I wanted to make sure your gift was perfect. You deserve something besides that Rin-nii. So here. I hope you like it.”

“Not quite Rin-nii. Watch this. Activate. *giggles* It's your very own dragonbot. It's just something I've been working on for a while. I was just waiting for the right moment to give it to you, and what's more perfect than today? Of course! Just in case you don't have your lighter in you. Oh, also, he doesn't like being called it. He's got feelings too, ya know? Now you just gotta name him! *smiles* He likes it! Promise you'll take good care of him, Rin-nii.”

[shizuokadivision]

ARB Birthday Special: Reika Aichi

~~ February 13th ~~

“It did not occur to them that a woman could be dangerous. How foolish they were.”

Login Lines:

“What’s this? A gift? Little early for Valentine’s Day, isn't it? My…birthday? I see.”

“I had forgotten all about it. Thank you for reminding me, but I wonder what you could've gotten for the woman who can buy anything with a snap of her fingers.”

Voice Lines: 

“I’m not surprised I almost forgot my birthday. I've been too busy planning the Valentine's Day Gala I throw every year. It is one of the biggest social events of the winter season here in Shizuoka.”

“Birthdays haven't been the same to me ever since Mama died. Mama could never afford to buy me any gifts, but every year, she would make me a red velvet cake. We would eat it while watching whatever movies we had on VHS. I would give up all my wealth just to have her back.”

“The kids at my charity foundation wished me a happy birthday when I walked in today. They even threw me a little party. I say ‘party’ loosely as they had just decorated a little corner with their drawings. It makes me feel…happy in a way I haven't been in years seeing them enjoying themselves”

“Also many members of Shizuoka's upper class have wished me a happy birthday along with sending me many gifts. I would say that I'm pleased to get them, but we both know that they’re just pitiful attempts to stay on my good side. As if I wouldn’t kill them if they cross me.”

“You actually got me a gift, Kanon? I'm surprised it's not exactly something you do. Well, look at that you do have some shred of emotion left in that black heart of yours. Now, then what did you get me?” 

“Did you just give me the plant from ‘Little Shop of Horrors’? Kanon, why is it rubbing its head against my arm? You know what? I'm not even surprised that you made me a sentient plant monster. I guess you need a name then? How about Rita Hayworth? Swallowing a man in one bite? Kanon, please tell me you're joking.” 

“Dang Sakura, I'm feeling the love here, but what can I say? I have expensive tastes. Please tell me whatever you got me isn't as *pauses* ‘unique’ as Kanon’s gift. *snickers* Is the big bad yakuza boss scared of a few plants? Hahaha! Alright, let's see it then.” 

“Wait a second….this is a ticket for a retreat for widows and widowers wanting to mingle!? “Concerned friend” my ass you fucking bitch. Oh, so this is how we're gonna play? Alright just wait till your birthday comes around Sakura. Then we'll see who has the last laugh.”

Kanon Lines:

“Congratulations on surviving another year of this wretched existence, Reika. As amusing as the look on your face is, do you have so little faith in me? Honestly, Reika, you're one of the few people I will even consider entertaining these notions of festivities for.” 

“As for my gift, let me introduce you to Pulcher Monstrum, a hybrid of various carnivorous plants amongst…other things. Ah yes, I was quite inspired when I saw that. Don't worry about that Reika, it's sentient to a degree and appears to like your presence. Oh, do be careful replanting. It's small now due to being in a pot, but I've estimated that when you place it in the ground, it'll grow big enough to swallow a man in one bite.” 

Sakura Lines:

“Happy birthday, Reika. Has anyone ever told you you're a fucking pain in the ass to get a gift for? Fuck no, I was there when she made it, and if I'm being honest, she gave you the least dangerous one of the bunch. The others ate a man alive. Shut it, Reika. Anyway, it isn't much, but hopefully, you appreciate what I got you.” 

“Pfft! The look on your face Reika! Hahaha! *mockingly* I'm just doing my part as a concerned friend and getting you back on the dating scene. Maybe you'll even find a husband that can last longer than a couple of months. Hahaha!” 

[striving-artist]

I'm...not sure food-based punishment IS okay? (I don't mean "you need to eat this because it's (supposed to be) healthy for you even if you don't like it", I mean "I am specifically making you eat a food you don't like because you did a Bad Thing"). Idk i think food as a punishment (and even reward) system could foster a lot of unhealthy eating habits or attitudes towards food.

But i've also never had kids and don't plan on doing so, so my opinions on that are all theoretical

Got a whole whole bunch of answers in various forms. Hallsy, I’m using yours to post because a bunch of comments went beyond the scope of that post so I don’t wanna clog it up.

(Crap this is long because I was working through my own thoughts and I don’t feel like editing)

— TLDR: parenting is hard, long as it’s not malicious, I’m probably not grabbing my pitchfork. —

One: didn’t know he told his kid they were normal apples. That’s nine new layers of wtf.

General Consensus seems to be that any tying of food to punishment (or reward) is shaky ground. And a lot of general statements on kids and food, all fascinating. Couple of comments for intuitive eating, which I think is a mostly great thing… but feels a little disconnected. It isn’t always applicable if you’re broke. Same thing with offering kids a different option if they don’t like that food. If you can only afford the single vegetable on sale and covered by Snap(they’ve improved the system but it’s still imperfect) that week, or if you’re eating whatever the food bank had, disliking a food isn’t enough reason to not eat it. I’m an adult, still hate veg, and still make myself eat some.

If they truly hate it, sure, you’ll avoid it and won’t make them eat it. But when the choice is Kid eats Zero Produce or Kid eats French Cut Green Beans, most parents are gonna insist they eat the beans. Kids are not logical or consistent. Yesterday they adored beans, today, they’re having a tantrum. Planning for their moods is hard, and I often side with the parents.

I also got a lot of general vibes of “the parents should never make a mistake in child rearing” that made me uncomfy. I wish that was a option. Really. But its not gonna happen. Ever. Not only does advice and recommendation change over the years, parents are humans. If you get home after two eight hour shifts in a row and need to make dinner, I can’t blame you for only making one meal choice or being a little snippy when they decide corn is the devil. Heck, less than that.

Legumes make my stomach real unhappy. I didn’t understand why but I knew I didn’t want to eat them. As in, they once said I couldn’t leave the table til I ate the dinner (chili) so I stayed there til midnight. (this was when dad realized this wasn’t just me being a brat and he’d make sure there was a spare stack crackers and extra cheese) But there were three kids, and it took til I was out of the house before it mostly stuck in my moms head that I hated legumes. (It’s cool. I never remember her birthday, she still sends me legume recipes) I know it made her batty that I fought every vegetable. My family loved veg and fruit. I had to be bribed to eat other than my four acceptable ones. I would also have found me very frustrating and probably said “eat it or not, but I’m not making you your own meal” pretty often. Parenting is exhausting y’all.

There’s also the factor of multiple kids. My siblings faves were meals I despised. (See above, chili, which the whole family loved) And vice versa. I’d i was happy, they were suffering. Cooking full alternate meals wasn’t an option(god we were poor) and yeah, they’d give me more of the part I hated least, and I never went to bed hungry, and it wasn’t done as punishment, but my child brain sure as heck thought it was.

The most damaging food based childhood thing wasn’t punishment, it was how hard they tried to avoid wasting food. Again, I get it. They bought the food that was on the cusp of going bad, it couldn’t sit in the fridge for five days. But that meant my dad pushed this No Leftovers thing. And, if you put it on your plate, you had to eat it. All three of us, to this day, have trouble leaving food on the plate even if we’re full. Again, not great, good intentions, he didn’t want us to starve, caused some issues, but not punishment because it wasn’t intended or treated that way.

Specifically on the punishment via food thing, I still find a weird grey zone here.

Say you have four meals planned for the week. One is your middle child’s top five foods. Middle child fights a kid at school. You decide to change plans and not cook that one tonight. (It’s me, I am middle child) that’s definitely in the Punishment category, because you’re withdrawing a promised Good Thing. But I’m totally cool with it now. I took that kid down hard, no, I don’t get to have my fave that night. Or the next.

That’s in the pile of ‘until you X to make up for it, you can’t have Y’ which is a solid thing to me? “Until you apologize for stealing all the crayons from your brother, you can’t keep coloring.” That’s instructive and reinforces better behavior. It being food makes it shaky. I get that. It’s why I asked for opinions in the first place.

I think I’m drawing my line between foods you dislike vs hate. You’re not starving, you’re just not happy about dinner.

And seriously, fuck that guy for the sneak attack spicy apples. If you and your kid show mutual affection via pranks, I’m probably okay with it, cause it’s one bite, they spit it out, and begin plotting revenge. Also, if they’re old enough to pull pranks, they’re old enough to understand that it’s not malicious. But dude. Wtaf

[one-abuse-survivor]

its my birthday today and theres so many emotions lol. my birthday has always been ruined by my family. either by my sister being jealous of my gifts and my parents giving her gifts and letting her choose the actitives for the day, my parents arguing non stop resulting in me being a messenger, or them making a big scene in a store because they dont want to buy me a cake or banners because i dont deserve it or im 'too old' for one/them. the last one hurts the most as when i was 16 i was so close to not even having a cake or a celebration at all because my parents were arguing, but i had to watch all my friends get big sweet 16 cakes and have parties and decorations and it made me feel like, what have i done wrong? it wasnt even a money thing either, like we could afford stuff, my dad just would not let my mum buy me stuff because id been naughty and didnt deserve a birthday. it makes it worse when tonight, im working a night shift and my coworkers and the person im helping's family are throwing me a pizza party and giving me a birthday card and it just makes me wanna cry so bad - in a good way! but its sad because how can people ive known for just over 6 months care so much as to do all of that, and my parents couldnt. im hoping i dont sound spoiled or ungrateful about my parents btw, im sorry if i do, i dont mean to be. it just feels so surreal that they even like me enough to do that?? im not even that good at my job yet so how do i even deserve a celebration at this point?? birthdays suck lol

Nonnie, let me start by saying you do not sound spoiled or ungrateful in the least. Everyone deserves to feel loved and appreciated, and birthdays are often an occasion when people show that sort of appreciation toward others. The fact that your parents ruined all your birthdays and told you you didn't deserve to have a birthday because you were "naughty" is really cruel, and it sends a message that you're not enough; that you're fundamentally bad, and there's nothing you can do to change that. It's cruel, it's emotionally neglectful, and it's abusive.

You deserved so much better than this. You deserved to feel loved, appreciated, and worthy of nice things. What your coworkers did for you on your birthday is what you've always deserved. The fact that your parents never allowed you to be celebrated is a reflection of who they are, not you. I hope that becomes easier to believe with time.

And I also hope you know it's okay to celebrate and appreciate yourself. It's not something you have to earn or be worthy of. It's something you can totally just do. On your birthday, or whenever you need it. You're allowed to have nice gestures toward yourself.

Hope some of this helps to read. Sending a big virtual hug ❤

[disco-cola]

dudes i need to rant cause yall know this is my online diary so i honestly feel so lost my life has no direction and hasnt had any for the past years and the years just seem to fly by in the blink of an eye and with every year i get more anxious about my birthday and getting older and my lack of achievements well at least if you define achievements by university degrees and work experience which is sadly still the standard instilled in this society and if you struggle with anxiety and or depression and cant function you are worth less (or even worthless) and you constantly need to justify and excuse yourself and the future seems so dull not only bc of my era-struggling™ but because i literally have such a hard time with the vicious cycle of getting a job and being sucked even more into this exploitative capitalistic system (idk what its like where you live but where i live rents have risen beyond any realistic affordability, grocery prices too but work wages and unemployment "benefits" from the state have not and even people working full time living with a partner who is also working full time are struggling to pay their rent and pay for groceries and electricity and make ends meet and for what you would have to work even more than forty hours a week to be able to afford a decent lifestyle as of right now but people are already working and worrying themselves sick to not fall down behind into poverty and get a pension plan which again is the vicious cycle im talking about retirement age will probably get even higher but how are you supposed to even work until at least 67 years old when you already destroy your body and soul decades before that? people are burned out several decades before that and still so many old folks now have worked so hard all their lives to only get such little pension they still need to work despite being sick, or go collect bottles (in countries where you get a few cents for returning plastic bottles at least) or even beg. honestly its sick this cant be the essence of life. it keeps me up at night. i dont wanna do this. i dont want life to be like this. i used to wanna go into the music business so bad when i was like 18 and be a manager or in a band but ever since my era-struggle™ despite the fact i dont like whats mainstream today but i also dont think i could last a day in the fast pace of todays business with social media and cancel culture. i just couldnt. i barely can now from my current position and deleting all social media and getting a nokia or motorola flip phone like i had as a child or a landline phone seems more and more appealing. my old friends are moving into the big city and we are drifting apart. they work so much they dont have time. but i also realize that i am starting to exclude and seclude myself and dont crave much human contact anymore. it honestly drains me. even grocery shopping or walking my dog during daytime drains me at this point. i dont wanna move and live in a big city anymore like other people my age. my suburb is too much for me already. i have fantasies of escaping from here daily. i literally just wanna go move to a small beach or mountain village and open a dog daycare. this is literally the only thing i can see myself doing in the future that does not give me anxiety and makes me wanna run into oncoming traffic.

[hekaates]

open letter to ems (part iii) — @officialjimmybuffett

Hey bitch. Happy birthday.

It’s June 21st, 2023. Your birthday is not in a while, a long, long while. But I want to say I love you because I know no person who…update it’s October 23, I have no idea what I was going to say, but I thought the sentiment was noble, even if it was incomplete. Just know that on June 21st you did something that made me remind myself that I love you and that I’m glad you exist in my life. Maybe that could be enough.

I carry no poetry and no string of pretty words that could explain this concept further. Have fun with the least competent paragraph I’ve ever written.

It’s December 15th, if you don’t mind. I’d like to restart this letter with a new opener. Here we go, drumroll please:

🥁

🥁

🥁

Dear Emma,

We met on the beachside, did you know that?

At least, in my version, we did. That’s why every time I think of you I imagine the hot summer breeze and the waves crashing by my windows (one day, when we’re both old enough to afford to know each other, I’ll let you sleep in the bed where I met you and when you wake up we can get ice cream cups and make henna tattoos — just remember to put on sunscreen (you’re ginger you will probably need it).

When I was a child, my grandmother gave me my first notebook, in the cover there was this girl with pink hair surrendered by a neon city. The first story I ever wrote was about her. It had two sentences. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've never finished a story in my life. What was the first story you’ve ever written? Did you ever finish yours? It’s weird to think that, somehow, that notebook brought me closer to you.

I’ve been to New York two times, New Jersey once, just to eat a red velvet cupcake in Carlos Bakery…do you think our cars passed by each other?

Today (April 10th), everything that is supposed to go right goes slightly wrong, and I rather blame mercury’s positioning in the astros than my own incompetence. There was an eclipse in America and I missed it. I am exhausted just from my existence. Sometimes I think you are the cure for my sorrows, other times I am certain of it.

Update: it’s not mercury, it’s iron. I haven't eaten meat in 3 days. You sent me a message telling me to eat meats, I send you a message back saying I'm letting a guy with a rifle and motorcycle call me angel. Maybe there is no better way to describe our dynamic. Maybe if we met in another life, which I am pretty sure we did, I’d still be running around in chaos, and you will still be the savior from my demise.

If we were characters in a show, I know people would ship us together— two deck swabs in the crumbling ship, two vampires hiding in an old theatre, a soldier and a scientist turning blue to save a planet that isn’t their own— then they’d make YouTube compilations of our funny moments (“yah?” “…yeah”). Dare I say, we would be the best characters, Emmy nominations for both our actresses (I’ll let yours take the prize though).

I love you, Em. I send my love to you. And you send it back round to me.

Yeah. I won’t be watching the show. But that’s a pretty fire line, a pretty fire delivery too.

There’s no other version of this story, by the way. At least, not for me. There is no other version of me that is content with a life that doesn’t involve you, that doesn’t, in its own way, revolve around you and your phantomly existence, even if you are always destined to be in the other side of the world, even if the closest thing I’ve ever gotten to your hands were reaching them in my dreams. You are my ghost. My angel. My protector.

It is my biggest privilege (and my greatest sorrow) to be haunted by you.

written in purple glitter ink and with a love that overflows my heart and pours over every word ever written,

lui

p.s every statue in Vienna reminds me of you. there is no other explanation. you are what I think of when I think of art.

[chicwishblog]

Chicwish Review: Discovering Affordable Luxury in Fashion

In today's fast-paced world, buying things has never been simpler and affordable, especially with the increasing use of online fashion portals. But it can also be challenging for customers to select the best product or service due to the large number of suppliers and the intense competition. This is when product reviews are useful as an accurate way to judge the quality of the product or service particularly when they are available at affordable rates.

Online reviews are crucial since they boost a business's visibility in search engine results pages, sales, and reputation. Reviews are significant since 59% of prospective buyers read two or three reviews before making a decision. A majority of customers these days would like to visit a physical retail location, try an item on, and then buy it. Nonetheless, the rapid rise of internet stores has fundamentally altered how people explore and buy clothing. Many online clothing stores boast that they offer the best products at the most competitive costs. Chicwish is one among them that offer quality clothing in an affordable way.

Since its introduction, Chicwish has made it possible for fashion fans to select from a large selection of clothing at reasonable prices. Without a doubt, Chicwish offers everything you could possibly need, including lingerie, dresses, loungewear, shirts, bottoms, and swimsuits. Chicwish is dedicated to providing exquisite, one-of-a-kind designs while upholding moral principles. The company's goal is to lower the cost of luxury for those who value style and the environment.

The greatness of the store's domain is demonstrated by the large number of Chicwish reviews that can be found online. These testimonials confirm Chicwish's reputation as a pioneer in the online apparel industry, which it works hard to uphold by providing stylish goods at reasonable costs to everyone.

Let's look at some of the most-read Chicwish reviews on the internet at verify brand’s commitment to offer the best possible combination of quality and affordability.

1. “I just have to see how your clothing fits first! This was a gift for a very special friend for her birthday and she is going through treatments next week for cancer. This pink sweater/coat in PINK will be special in more ways than one. I hope to come back for more. Love your advertising and the pieces that I've looked at. LOVE. There's a lot to consider with all the sizing in different countries and want it to fit another person I am buying for. The reviews didn't have enough information in them to tell anything about sizing to be sure. I know you are targeting a younger age group but don't forget us older ladies like to look just as good!” – Stanetta C.

2. “Since discovering Chicwish, my mother and I have made at least 5 orders between the 2 of us, and they have never failed to reply quickly and efficiently. I love their designs and their quality is solid, as long as you know what to expect based on the pictures.” – Aria C.

3. “Finally a skirt that fits great! Not to mention gorgeous. It's beautiful for spring and carries right into the summer for brunch, weddings, etc., or just because. Dress it up or down.” – De B.

4. “I discovered this website last year and I fell in love with its products, but while reading the reviews on the internet, I wasn't very sure how it would turn out. I eventually decided to order one dress and set myself up for no expectations. I ordered before the holidays and during the vacation time, I didn't check the order status at all. The order arrived at my door in about a month (I live in Finland) and I had to pay customs for it, so please take that into account when ordering. But I must say, I was very impressed with the dress, the quality, and the fit. It became very fast my favorite dress and I will definitely be ordering more from Chicwish :)” – Claudia J.

5. “At first I was a little cautious, didn't make good experiences with Asian online shops. But the clothing is not only *really* cute (been looking for something like this for ages), the quality and fabrics are awesome too! Takes a few weeks to deliver, but I think it's worth it.” – Kerstin E.

The Conclusion

Whether you are looking for casual clothes or formal wear, Chicwish is one name you can always trust upon.  Chicwish is a top-rated clothing store where you can explore all types of clothing at affordable rates.

[1d1195]

omg i had a phase where the ONLY show i would watch was gilmore girls. that was fun it has a special place in my heart

LMFOAOAOSKS SAM HAHAHAHA you’re so right tho neither of them felt like good fits for her. my mom was just telling me today how every time she sees him online she thinks his smile looks so forced😭😭

OH AND DING 3 ???:?:???? I WAS SHDBSJSNNSDJD 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 THE WHOLE TIME I KID YOU NOT. HES SOOOOOO UGHHH. THE WAY HE NEEDED TO KNOW ??? AND WHEN HE GOT SO ANGRY HE WANTED TO GO STRAIGHT TO THE GYM ???? AND JUST THE WAY THEYRE SOOOO INTO EACH OTHER IM OBSESSED (when he asked to kiss her cheek i think i passed away🪦)

im really happy to hear the vacation went well !! i think you deserve a good relaxing something every now and then. treat yourself to a spa weekend or a massage soon girl (or whatever you consider relaxing cause i’ve actually never tried either of those lmfao)💖

i’ve actually been up to a lot recently! or more than usual lol. it’s pretty dull in my life buttttt i have two childhood best friends who each have a wedding coming up soon. one of which i know for sure will be in may and the other isn’t decided yet but it’ll be soon as well bc it’ll be a lowkey thing. it’s crazy for me to think that we’re at the age where we can start getting married n stuff😭 ive known these girls my whole life its just insane

todays my birthday !! (it’s 2am rn tho so i won’t process that fact until i wake up) i’m not going to do much, maybe go to target and get some skincare bc i went to see a dermatologist yesterday lol who’s the person who said they lived in the uk and wished they had a target?? i saw a tiktok video of a group of australians going to target for the first time and it was SOOO FUNNY😭😭 target is the best i could seriously spend hours there

wishing you alllll the best✨✨✨✨

~🎶

I watch it every fall/winter 😭 I just finished my rewatch actually 🤣

I’ve never been to the spa or had a massage. I do really want a massage but I’m poor and can’t justify the cost. Honestly I enjoy lounging on the couch hahahaha

That’s so nice you get to see some old friends! That’s so lovely! I have been trying to be better about seeing my old friends (and doing terrible at it). My middle school bff has a 1.5 year old kid. That shit is wild. But it’s always like no time has passed when I see them! Hope you have fun spending time with them! What do you have planned?

I’m so weddinged-out. I’ve always been a funeral girl (my family is generally older so 🤷🏻‍♀️) I hadn’t been to a wedding until I was 17 and then the next one when I was 22. Now I’ve been to 6 weddings in two years. I’m tapped out physically, emotionally, and mostly financially. I think there will be at least 2 more in the next two years too 🙃 Also I’ve been to about…idk 6000 baby showers. I cannot afford to have friends 🤣

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🎉 💕🥳 I hope you had the most amazing day you deserve it all and more!!! 💕

My 🛼-anon is our friend from England who hasn’t been to target! I’m glad you feel the same way about target. I grew up without a target nearby so I’m not sure if I’m just romanticizing how lovely it is 🤣

Hope you have a fabulous birthday week can’t wait to hear about your skincare routine and all the fun things you do with your friends!!!

Xoxo

P.s. I’m glad you liked Ding 💕I love a “who did this to you” kinda vibe 😉