#the pressure is ridiculous regardless of why it's applied

[hellfridge]

Also, oddly enough, I feel like this also holds for allo folk?

Being a nonpartnering aro is funny because you’ll go “I would like to be single forever” and society is like “nooo you can’t be happy like that!” even though you are already single and happy about it. It’s so silly. What do you mean I can’t be happy staying single forever? I have been happily single my whole life. I am literally already doing the thing that people assume will bring lifelong misery upon me, and I’m happy. If I am doomed to lifelong misery, then where is that misery right now?

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #55] Secrets

warnings: he he he, healthy communication!! wahoo!! shower (act surprised), a lil jealousy from koo, mentions of past escapades with jimin, jk with a point to prove!!, jk is a very bad housemate in this one (but he's sexy so tis okay), scene of the crime: jimin's room, spanking, fingering, dominant koo, GASP! a bird!!! in the middle of business!!!!, hehehhe, confessions, a very lovely shag <3

wc: 14K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Every job you've ever applied for, and every resume you've ever sent, tells the same little white lie: great at working under pressure.

While it could be argued that you are perfectly capable of functioning through high-pressure situations, it's more so that you've just mastered the art of masking how stressed you truly are.

It starts in your head. The constant reminder of how much work you have to do, how much time menial tasks will take, and how it will impact the time spent on worthwhile jobs. Then, you deliberate over that: What is worthwhile? Who decides? You?

These insidious thoughts coat your brain like gasoline and drip down your spinal column. Make themselves known in your chest. Flood your heart, until it feels like it's gonna burst.

Your lungs are robust, though. They function normally. Filter out the smoke that inevitably fills them once you spark and find yourself ablaze with the catastrophic consequences of overworking yourself.

Still, you work, work, work until you're burnt from the inside out.

Leaning your head against the cold metal of Jeongguk's apartment complex elevator, the change in temperature is welcome. Respite. Comes with the territory of being close to him, you think, regardless of the steel doors. You hear a ding. Step back. Watch as they open, and consider letting them close again. Going back down. Away from him, and the inevitable conversation that is about to happen.

His voicemail had been ominous. You're not sure if it was intentional, but you do know he'll have just gotten home from therapy. You tell yourself that's it; he just wants to share how it went.

But you're not stupid. You know his voice well enough now to know his tells. He's annoyed, and it would seem that you're the person he's taken issue with. Nobody's perfect, and that extends to the both of you. It's not always gonna be plain sailing. You'd get bored if it was.

Taehyung's words have been ringing in your ears ever since he first spoke them aloud, echoing a statement you'd considered yourself: remember who you're doing this for.

Secrets have been kept for Jeongguk's benefit, but the closer and closer you get to his door, the more stupid it all seems. Perhaps that's why you'd been so insistent on keeping it hush-hush, though. You knew he'd have a problem with it. Likes to fight his own battles. Doesn't enjoy leaning on others for support.

That's the thing, though. He's trying to learn how to, now—trying to understand himself a little bit. Regulate his emotions.

With this, naturally, comes the establishment of firmer boundaries; the acknowledgement that his feelings are valued and justified, and deserve to be known just as much as anyone else's. No more burying his upsets just to keep peace.

Or at least, his therapist said something of a pretty similar sentiment during their session. If he's shelling out the amount of money he is on therapy in an overly beige, awfully pleasant office, then he may as well learn the lessons he's being taught.

He's always been a kinesthetic learner. Has to put theory into practice.

And if you've ever taught him anything, it's that his emotions are safe with you. Never belittled or ridiculed.

Which is probably why he opens the door with a smile. Forgets his upset, for he's blinded by stars.

You're a little less glittered up than usual, but there are sparkles on your skin regardless. There always is.

Easy, it is, for Jeongguk to be distracted by you. His thoughts drift to and fro, like tiny speckles of glitter in water. Ebbing and flowing from thought to thought, his brain is constantly in pursuit of you. No guided meditation video on YouTube or breathing exercise could ever calm him like you do.

Which is why your urgency (and hard-to-hide frown) confuses him as you ask, "Is Jimin in?"

His brows pinch together in an almost comedic fashion. Why would you want to see Jimin?

"No?" He questions back, a little childishly. It'd make you laugh if you weren't so nervous.

"Okay," you breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful for privacy as you step beyond the entrance to his apartment without waiting to be invited in. The door just shuts behind you, and Jeongguk remains in place, entertained by the thorny attitude you seem to have. Shoes off, coat up on a peg, you're at one with the furniture. Are exactly where you're supposed to be. Jeongguk loves having you here. Loves it so much. "Good."

As he turns to face you, a look of bemusement rests upon his pretty features. It's been a couple of days since you were last within touching distance.

He's forgotten all about his earlier irritation. Thinks the perplexion on your face is from—well, he doesn't really know. He just doesn't realise he's to blame.

"Hi," he smiles, all dreamy and entranced by the mere sight of you, and it makes you want to cry.

So pretty, is Jeon Jeongguk in all of his dishevelled glory, his busy day weakening his product's hold on his hair, dressed down in sweats 'cause he figured he wouldn't see you this evening.

Hair dark and lightly waved, it frames his features perfectly. A little grown out, the cut has lost its initial shape, which means he has to style it if he wants to look half decent, but you always secretly prefer him like this. As he bites down on his bottom lip, there's that fabled glisten; his lip ring doing the thing that always makes your stomach flip.

But your stomach is in bits, and he seems to wise up to this as his brows crease together.

"What's up?" he asks, strolling to close the gap between you both. Reaches out to place a palm on either one of your shoulders. Tilts his head like a sweet puppy as he asks, "Hey?"

And now you're confused, because he's the one who left you with a voicemail explicitly stating that you need to talk.

"You're annoyed with me," is all you say, because it's all you know.

The thing is, he doesn't seem annoyed. In fact, he appears perfectly lovely.

"But also," you add. "How was therapy?"

"Who said that?" He protests your first point. "And was fine—will tell you later. Tell me what you're on about first."

"Sure?" You check because you genuinely want to know how it went. "And you did!"

"Sure," he nods, but then lets his features snap back into a state of confusion. "But when did I ever say that?!"

"The voicemail?"

"The—Oh, no," he laughs. Like, really laughs. Heartily. Heavenly . Celestially . Lets a small space form between you both so that he can use his hands to express himself a little. "B, no."

In all honestly, he was annoyed.

Fresh off the bat from his very first therapy session, which he still wasn't convinced was the right thing for him, he'd been greeted home with a flyer to Taehyung's next show.

It wasn't anything bad, but it also wasn't anything you had clued Jeongguk in on. There were mentions of his friends and their respective businesses under the heading: Skills Auction.

Secrets had been kept, and from the looks of it, everyone was in on it.

He took it personally.

Didn't understand why you wouldn't tell him whatever it is that's going on. Considered the possibility that the reason went beyond inconsideration. That it was deliberate .

Once he noticed what the auction was for —to 'help with a local start-up'— he knew he needed to speak to you.

He chalked up two possibilities.

One: you really just didn't care to tell him, and the auction was to raise money for something totally irrelevant to him, or two: you deliberately didn't tell him, 'cause his restaurant is the start-up.

He's not sure which idea bothers him more; you forgetting him, or you keeping things from him.

That's a lie. Truth be told, it's the idea of you forgetting him that really shatters his soul.

You hadn't heard the voicemail until a little while later, so Jeongguk had the chance to simmer and dwell upon it all. Has found his annoyance wilting over the course of the afternoon, and now adoration blooms in its place with just a single look at you.

"But you said we need to talk," you say with a slight pout that you're really trying not to let show.

You hate feeling this feeble, but when the words 'we need to talk' echoed into your ear, you'd almost cried on the spot. Called a cab immediately. Have Jeongguk on your family location app (at his request during a night when he was behind the bar in Dionysus and wanted to make sure you got home safe), so knew he was home. Welled up a couple times in the taxi, too.

Your new fear of losing him is well and truly established, now.

"Because we do ," he says with a soft smile, as if he didn't use potentially the most alarming phrase he could have done. "But not like that ."

"Then why would you say it like that?!"

"Because I didn't think you'd take it like that!"

He's laughing, but he's also trying to soothe you. It's not that he's laughing at you, or at least, not in a mean-spirited way. He thinks it's all rather cute.

"Christ alive, B," he shakes his head, his smile not once ever faltering. "You think I'd have gone to all that trouble trying to get you, only to go and break up with you a week or so later?!"

The way you gasp is comical. Deserving of an Oscar, he thinks. There's a glisten back in your eyes, evidence that you're a little calmer than you had been, as you begin to playfully bend his words.

"Oh, so first you wanna break up with me, and now even dating me was trouble," you joke, knowing that he didn't mean it like that in the slightest. Given the fact you've already had one overreaction, a second one is amusing to you both. Far less serious, this time around.

"Fuck off," he laughs, pleased that your humour is back to biting point. He could have phrased his need to speak to you a little better, but honestly? To see you this worried? To know how much you care? Oh, it's nice. Such a simple declaration of how you feel for him, without uttering a single word. He thinks he should return the favour. "No. Don't twist my words, Byeol. You know you're my favourite thing ever—"

Or at least, he tries to. You're just in too much of a teasing mood now that your woes have been remedied to let him.

"So now I'm a thing , too?!"

It's been said before that the good is never easy, and the easy never good—and in his eyes, the way you get a little difficult at times like this just makes you so much better. You scratch that teeny tiny part of his brain that sits between his unbridled loyalty and complete adoration. A spot reserved just for you.

"Mhmm," he nods, closing the gap between you. Doesn't stop until he can smell your perfume. Cups your jaw, and presses an incredibly sincere kiss to your lips. Soft and hard all within the same second, Jeongguk is a man of complexities. Perfectly imperfect. Just right. "The prettiest thing. Mine, all mine."

The way he nudges his nose against yours feels like he's welcoming you home. Says a silent 'hello ,' or 'I've missed you so much.' Both would be applicable.

"So you don't wanna break up?" You ask, pedantic just for the sake of being so. You know the answer. God, you've never felt so sure of someone in your entire life.

"How are you both the smartest girl I know and also the dumbest?" he grins, before kissing you gently to make up for the fact he called you dumb (and also the fact he's about to call you stupid). "So stupid—" he laughs, tucking hair behind your ear. "—but so goddamn pretty, B. God, my gorgeous girl. Have you spent all afternoon thinking—"

"No," you pout, cutting him off because it's so embarrassing that you actually let your mind fret like that.

"You could have just called."

"Was scared."

"You know how crazy I am about you?" He insists, pulling you in for an all-encompassing hug. Squeezes. Might crush you. Good . You'd welcome it. "You literally never have to worry about that."

Arms strong, he keeps you enclosed as he waltzes you both to his room. Giggles along with you as the awkward footing makes it so much more clumsy than it really needs to be. Refuses to let go of you until you reach the foot of his bed. Gets you right where he wants you: on top of his sheets, trapped beneath his body, even if you are both fully clothed.

"So what did you want to talk about?" You ask, knowing that it's best to get it over and done with now. You aren't stupid—even if he did lovingly say you were earlier—and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. There's only one thing you've done recently that you haven't discussed with him, which you really should have done.

"Take a wild guess," he says with a slight smirk.

It's almost as if he knows you'll still think he's the sexiest man alive regardless of the fact you're about to be reprimanded.

In fact, the telling-off might make him even hotter. The way you bite down on your lip is accidental, but the thoughts of being bent over his knee are a little too tempting.

Jeongguk's usually good at reading your tells but thinks you're just cutely holding back the truth, so he doesn't think much of it, as if he isn't highly aware of how naturally your legs wrap around his body and how perfectly his chain dangles just shy of your chin. He's too hot. Too goddamn hot for you to think straight most of the time.

He's also been in this position too many times before, and knows exactly what it leads to, for him to not get a little excited . You both ignore it, for now.

Instead, you pout. Close your eyes. Whine a little, but are interrupted when Jeongguk starts kissing you again. Couldn't help himself. You look too cute. He really likes how you've done your hair today. Your outfit, too. The way he can't figure out what colour your glitter is, 'cause it shines differently depending on the light. The fact you're wearing his favourite of all your perfumes. And you. Just in general.

God, he just likes you so much. Forgets everything whenever you're near. All he wants is to indulge in the way it feels to be with you. Never let it go.

Lips pressing into yours, the rest of his body kind of follows suit. While one of his arms supports him by the side of your head, the other hand roams. Feels. Squeezes and strokes wherever it can; the base of your throat, the curve of your waist, the fullness of your chest. It's not without reciprocation, though.

Your hands are just as familiar as his - one in his hair, the other squeezing at his ass. A rhythm is set. Hips languid. Effort minimal. The way you rut against one another is lazy, neither of you really aiming for sex—but also neither of you would be mad if it was the inevitable outcome, either way.

Eventually, though, he pulls back. Is a little out of breath. Lets his nose nudge against yours as he shakes his head.

"No," he smiles. "Can't distract me."

"You started it."

"True," he admits, stealing a single kiss and then rolling off you to stare at the ceiling. There's just a single bird above you, now.

It's taunting Jeongguk. He knows exactly what it says. Has only lasted so long because it was strung up after that first Busan trip. Has a little more longevity than the others did.

He reaches over to grab your hand. Ignores the fact his sweats are making his desire for you abundantly obvious. Instead, he links his fingers with yours and holds them on his stomach. Says, "Jimin left the flyer for Tae's next show on the counter."

"Shit."

Jeongguk laughs. It's quiet, but you can feel his chest thud a little from the contractions of his lungs.

He isn't really sure what reaction he was expecting, but is pleased that you aren't trying to deny anything. While you both may bullshit a little from time to time, you'll always admit to it if you're called out on it. You're only human. Not saints, but not sinners, either.

"Yeah, B," he says with a small laugh. " Shit ."

There's gasoline in your heart again, but then Jeongguk squeezes your fingers, and it seems to pump the fluid out. Clears your system. Assures you that everything is okay.

" Skills Auction ," Jeongguk quotes the flyer.

"Mhmm."

"To help support a local start-up, huh?"

You glance across to him, brows a little furrowed, penance prevailing. You really do feel shitty for not including him in on the plans, even if your intentions were good.

"Mhmm."

He twists his head now to meet your gaze. Tries to read your expression. Doesn't try too hard, cause he'll get distracted again, no doubt.

"So why are all the boys listed? Or their workplaces, at least?" Jeongguk asks, and you know exactly what he's talking about.

Advertising space in the local paper, thanks to Namjoon. Custom furniture, courtesy of Min's Studio. A year's free consultation with Jimin's interior design firm. If one of your friends has a sought-after skillset (of which they all do) then they've been roped in. Even Taehyung; a chance to win an original work of his.

Perhaps 'win' is the wrong term.

It's an auction, after all. Bids will be made. But you hope they'll be made competitively. Drive the prices up. Force people to spend pretty pennies—which is exactly why people from Shilla Finances had been added to the guestlist.

They're assholes with money to burn, and they all like to win. You reckon if you have them competing against each other, you'll rake money in.

Before you get a chance to start explaining, he adds, "And where do I fit into all of this?"

"Good question," you say quietly. There's no point in denying it, now. You're not stupid but nor is he. "Look, before you say anything— I was gonna tell you."

"But you haven't ," he reminds you of your wrongdoing. Just like that time he lied about texting a girl to hang out all those months ago, and you refused to go easy on him, he's gonna make sure you learn your lesson. "The show is next week."

With a nod, you know you need to be straightforward with him about your plans. "But I haven't, you're right."

It's not without reason.

Jeongguk is stubborn at best; proud at his worst. Hates accepting help. Even Yoongi had to convince Jeongguk to let him in on the business proposal to take to the bank—and Jeongguk feels ever so embarrassed that Yoongi saw him put in so much hard work only to achieve absolutely nothing. Makes him feel inadequate.

But the restaurant is Jeongguk's dream .

And if you can help him achieve his dream, of course you're gonna try.

Ever since he got the call from the bank, there's been a quiet disappointment in his eyes whenever moments of contemplation have washed over him. Sloped shoulders, firm pouts. It's been hard to watch.

Jeongguk doesn't have the capital to purchase the retail unit outright now that it's for sale, and the bank wouldn't wanna take a chance on an inexperienced businessman like him. Fresh out of university, he doesn't have the credentials built up, yet.

But what Jeongguk does have—and what you'd argue is his absolute strength when it comes to his business plans—is people who love him and want him to succeed. People who will do all they can to help him out in times of need, just like he would for them.

And so when the idea to do a skills sale came into your head, you just sort of ran with it.

The concept is simple: get punters to bid on prizes. Highest bidder wins. The competition aspect will surely propel prices, and the prizes are things that money can't buy, or at least not easily.

The funds raised, once small fees are settled?

Jeongguks, to help with the restaurant start-up. A gift from you all, really. Not just you, even if you are the mastermind.

You didn't even realise how much momentum the entire thing had gained until you were putting together the finishing touches with Taehyung earlier that day.

The collection he's showing is small. Postcard-sized, intricately detailed moments of time spent with his friends, captured in an abstract medium. They're reasonably priced—a little lower than his going rate, to ensure sales—and after the costs of his materials is deducted, the proceeds will go towards the 'start-up'.

The start-up or Jeongguk's dream. Whatever you wanna call it.

The rest of his friends have all donated their time and efforts free of charge. You've even managed to rope in a few companies to partner with the auction. Bartered with Taehyung, and asked if the commission he once promised you as a thank you for helping with the show could be redeemed in the auction—and he agreed.

It's the hot ticket item, you think, although you are severely underestimating how much companies will pay for front-page advertisements in the city paper. They're often booked out well in advance, so for Namjoon to swoop in and reserve it off thanks to an unpaid invoice leaving a slot free next month? Oh, it's like Christmas come early.

And so you tell Jeongguk everything; how the ball started rolling, and how you've been unable to stop it. He listens, and doesn't say a word. Is conflicted.

"I know I should have told you what I was doing," you stress, eyes on the ceiling, just like his. "I just thought you'd tell me no—"

"I would have done."

" Exactly ," you say. "Like I wasn't trying to meddle, I just want you to have options, yanno? Money is the only obstacle. And I just—you've done so much for me. I wanted to return the favour."

"B, there's a favour, and then there's this ," he gently says. He's still holding your hand, so at least he's not mad. That's something.

"I know." Truthfully, you do. It's why you've been so torn up. You knew you should have told him earlier, but also knew he'd probably feel guilty accepting help like this. "I just saw how disappointed you were after the bank called, and like, the only thing standing between you and getting that restaurant going is money and—"

"But it was my call to make, B," he interrupts softly. "What happened with the bank was shitty, and yeah it really sucked for a while, but I would have figured it out. Like, what if I didn't even want to run a restaurant anymore?" You know he does. "What would I do with the money then? They'd start calling me a fraud, or some shit like that. Sue me, probably, for false advertisement. Run me into the ground before I even have a chance to get something going."

With a nod, you don't try and defend yourself. You know he's right—but you also know Jeongguk's achieving his dream regardless of his current difficulties. He's too determined not to achieve his goals.

Instead of trying to reason any of this, you offer an apology.

"I'm sorry," you promise. "Tae said something earlier that kinda made me realise I'd had tunnel vision with it all. I know it'll sound like bullshit, but I really was going to tell—"

"I hate that I didn't know," Jeongguk cuts you off. His interruption is stark. Leaves a cold tail of wind as it escapes his mouth. "I mean, I'm the only one, right?" He frowns, now. "Everyone else knew. They had to, if they're on the flyer. And I just wasn't told. By anyone."

"It's my fault," you say, quickly coming to the defence of his friends. You masterminded it, after all. "Gguk, I literally begged them to keep it quiet until I figured out how to tell you. It's on me. Yoongi said I should tell you. Jimin straight-up told me I was being dumb. The only reason they didn't tell you is 'cause of me. It was a bad judgment call on my part. I'm sorry."

Jeongguk could pretend like he cares about the secrecy.

He doesn't.

He understands why the secret was kept, and why it began. He doesn't see it, really, as deception or as a lie. Is familiar with the concept of surprises, and how they work. Trusts you not to ever lie about personal matters, but does find it a bit baffling nonetheless.

The thing that does upset him, though?

Being left out.

"Just feel stupid," he mumbles. Rubs his thumb against yours. Finds respite in it. "Everyone knew except for me. Feel like a charity case."

"I didn't even think of it like that," you quietly admit, turning to face him again—but he's avoiding your gaze. "Just wanted to fix things for you. Take the pressure off. I should have told you. I really am sorry I didn't."

Jeongguk purses his lips, and his lip ring flips ever so sweetly in the corner of his mouth. He's so handsome, even when he's pouty.

You both show affection and care through acts of service. It's nothing new. He understands the thought process and the good intentions that come with it.

With a sigh, he leverages the grip he has on your hand and pulls you a little. Encourages you onto his lap. It's a position you ease into without difficulty, knees either side of his waist, ankles by his hips as you straddle his body.

Jeongguk holds onto your thighs while your hands ball at the material of his shirt. Eye contact is shamefully avoided, until he sighs once more. "Look, I see what you're trying to do, B. And it's sweet, and I appreciate it. I really do. You just can't keep shit like this from me, okay? Not if it directly concerns me."

You nod, watching your own hands as he clasps them in his own.

"We're a team, right?" He gently says as he encourages your body to lay on top of his. Wraps his arms around you. Holds you close as you nod again into the crook of his neck. "You can be team captain all you like, baby—just don't keep me on the reserves bench. If there's a homerun to be had, I wanna be the one hitting it. Okay?"

"I really am sorry," you say again, 'cause you kind of feel like he's the one trying to make you feel better, which isn't the point of an apology at all.

Thing is, Jeongguk isn't annoyed. Really.

He's a little annoyed at himself for not thinking of the idea first, and a little sad he didn't get the chance to work on it with you—but he's honestly been feeling so stuck about the restaurant for weeks. Spent most of his first therapy session talking about how gutted he was over it all.

And so even though yes, you should have roped him in—or hell, even asked his permission—it kind of feels like you've thrown him a lifeline.

"I still wanna speak it over with Yoongi," Jeongguk tells you as he rubs his hands up and down your back. "Just get his opinion on things—and hey, there's no guarantee we'd actually make any money, right? From the auction?"

It feels different, now, thinking about the restaurant as if it's something that could come to fruition again. Raising the funds for a deposit on the building would alleviate one of the biggest financial burdens. Sure, there's no certainty he'd get approved for a mortgage, or if the bank would even still consider a loan for the refurbs and start-up costs, but it's better than going in empty-handed.

"Totally," you nod, thinking that Yoongi is probably the best person to discuss this all with. "And, actually, that's something else I need to speak to you about."

"Go on," Jeongguk purrs.

"Well, the goal is to raise capital without the need for investors," you say of your thought process behind the auction. "Get their money in exchange for goods or services—not for a stake in your business. Thing is—"

"All the rich twats we know are from Shilla Finances?" Jeongguk grimaces as he references Seokjin's workplace. Can always tell whenever one of those wankers is at Taehyung's show. They all wear Invictus, or 1 Million, as if Paco Rabanne is the scent master of class and wealth, and not just responsible for the cloud of air that hangs in a high school boys' locker room after gym lessons.

"Yeah," you grimace right back. "Chances are, they already know about the show—we always have a few in attendance. Tae's pretty popular with them. I'm pretty sure one of them mentioned some of his work being in one of their meeting rooms at the last show."

You say chances are, because you haven't sent out personal invites yet. That was one of today's tasks, but after speaking with Taehyung, you chose against it. Knew that he was right. That you did have to speak to Jeongguk before going through with it.

"They've got money," he assesses. More than him, by a long shot. Pool their resources, and fuck it—he really might be able to make enough for a deposit on the unit.

"They do," you nod, then begin to explain your theory.

It's not foolproof and there's no guarantee any of them would care particularly for the things on offer, but Taehyung's kind of dominating the local art circuit at the moment. There's a buzz around him that everyone wants to get in on. For flashy, wealth-obsessed wankers who love to keep up with the latest trends, an original commissioned piece from Taehyung would make them the talk of the office for at least a day or two.

"Get investors without getting investors," Jeongguk muses. The idea of being tied to your ex in even the smallest of ways makes him feel physically sick, but this a loophole he could grow to like. "Fuck it. Do it. Invite them. What have we got to lose?"

There's something intrinsic about the way Jeongguk groups you in together with him like this. Your burdens are his burdens; his battles, your battles. He really does view you as a team and intends to keep it that way.

"You sure?" You question, just to confirm it's what he actually wants.

He nods. Adjusts you slightly so that he can look into your eyes as he says, "I'm sure, babe—but if your ex is there, I'm taking you straight to that janitor's closet again."

The boyish charm to his smile makes your eyes roll, but his sentiments do get you a little flustered nonetheless.

"For a chat?" You tease, knowing perfectly well what he means.

Jeongguk just smiles. Plainly states, "No. For a fuck."

"You're so romantic."

"I am," he agrees, ignoring your sarcasm. Smirks as your hair pools around his face, nose nudging up against his. "Gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk straight, and then I'm gonna hold your hand all night to make up for it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," he purrs, pressing a fleeting kiss up to your lips. "Gonna introduce myself to everyone as your boyfriend. Oh, you know the curator? Yeah, she's my girlfriend. I'm her boyfriend. Gonna make sure everyone knows, B. I'll bet you that all those finance bros fancied the shit out of you when you were with your ex. Bet you they're hoping they can make a move on you now. Fat fuckin' chance. Over my dead body."

His tendency to get a little jealous has never been a secret, but you must admit you enjoy seeing it boil to the surface every now and again.

"You're so dumb," you giggle as he begins to press kisses down your throat.

Oh, the jealousy is potent . Has his tongue flicking against you; teeth nipping at your skin.

"Nah, you're just right," Jeongguk husks against your neck. "I am proud. My pride does get in the way. But when my girlfriend looks like you? Fucking hell, when my girlfriend is you? Jesus, B. Hard not to be proud."

"Stop," you smile, pulling back, knowing that you're both gonna take it too far. "You'll give me a big head."

"Then you really will look like a disco ball," he tells you with a straight face, but just can't help himself from letting a grin escape.

"Fuck off," you laugh, but he simply doesn't let you. Pulls you in for half a dozen teeny-tiny kisses, then decides they're not enough, and gives you half a dozen more. They're fleeting and they're fast, but they're all for you. You know it's only a matter of time until you'll be under his sheets instead of on top of them. "Wait, wait, wait—are we good?"

"Course we are," he says as you sit back up on his lap, and your assumptions about his state of desire are proven correct. "Just don't keep shit from me, okay?"

You nod. Know that the way you felt earlier when you listened to his voicemail was enough to scare you into never doing it again. "Promise."

"Then, yeah," he assures you, stroking your thighs, and looking at you with the softest eyes known to man. "We're good, B."

Amazing, what a little bit of open communication between you both can do.

Has you thinking maybe you should admit how terrified you were on the cab ride over—but then he's pulling you up with him, grabbing the pair of towels he keeps neatly folded on a shelf, dragging you to the bathroom.

He's already had one today, and so have you, but he doesn't care. Wants you naked. Wants to prove how 'good' you really are together. Wants to give you reasons to never keep shit from him again. Reward you for your honesty, as if you're a puppy in need of training—which is funny, 'cause when his hair gets all wet beneath the shower and his eyes are so delightfully wide, he's the one who looks like a puppy dog.

The way he leans into your touch as you shampoo his hair? Gets a little whiney when you scratch at his scalp? Oh, he's such a puppy dog. So cute, and cuddly, and—

"Oh, fucking hell," Jeongguk cuts off your train of thought when he turns to face you. Body covered in soapy bubbles that drip down your skin like honey, he's somehow surprised by how badly he wants you. As if he doesn't always want you.

He's never wanted to be shampoo before, but— fuck —he wants to be on you like that. Doesn't care to think about the physical logistics of it all. Just gets your back pressed to the wall, a hand on your waist while the other holds your throat. Forgets the pretty kisses he usually greets you with. Gets his tongue in your mouth, and your whines in his throat. It's messy, and it's feral, but fuck if it isn't just so indicative of how much you crave each other.

It goes beyond that, Jeongguk thinks. Not a want, but a need.

Even though you'd been playing it off like a joke earlier, he's highly aware of the fact you thought he might end things earlier. He never wants to give you that kind of complex. Wants you to know that a few words would never be enough to break what you have together.

So even though Jeongguk is like a puppy dog in how sweetly he adores you, he's also fierce in how defiantly he wants you.

Hair up and out of the stream of his shower, you didn't want to wash it twice in one day, which actually makes things a little easier for him. Means he won't have to wait out your conditioning time. Instead, he reaches across, and shuts off the shower.

Nudging his nose up against yours, he mumbles, "We don't have to, but I totally wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to fuck right now."

"Huh," you hum, letting one of your hands drop from his waist, to delicately trail around the base of his incredibly hard cock. "You wanna fuck? Hadn't noticed."

When he laughs, you feel the air escape his lungs and settle on your skin. It's something so innately human that reminds you Jeongguk is real; that he's yours, and that you'd be a fool to waste such opportunities.

"Said I'm not opposed," he corrects you. "Up to you. I can make you feel good, B, or we can get dressed and do crosswords like an old married couple."

"You've never done a crossword in your life," you guess, narrowing your eyes.

"And I don't really intend on starting now," he smirks.

"Well then you're in luck," you concede.

"You wanna fuck?"

"That rhymed," you say as he pulls back to grab the towels. He gives you yours first, wrapping you up before he reaches for his own. "Maybe you are good with words. Maybe you should do the crosswords, instead." He raises a brow as he shakes his towel through his hair, not caring for the fact he's stark bollock naked. "Jimin's still out, right?"

"Company dinner," Jeongguk says, as he finally begins to wrap his towel around his waist. "Probably won't get home till the early hours."

You nod. Accept this reality. Say, "Good."

And then Jeongguk is left to watch on in a state of disbelief as you rid yourself of his fluffy white towel and toss it his way before walking to the door. Turning to glance over at him as you push down the handle, you're amused by how endearing his surprise is.

"Well, are you coming, or what?" You tease.

Barely a foot out the door, and Jeongguk's wrapping his arms around you. Covering your modesty, while also letting his towel fall to the floor. You're giggling as his lips press wet kisses against your throat, the pair of you so adorable it would make anyone else sick.

"What if he snuck home, huh?" Jeongguk playfully husks against your skin. "Then what?"

"Then it would have been a nice surprise for him," you tease right back. "Give him something to think about when he—"

"Don't," Jeongguk almost fucking growls .

While this might have been true a year ago, Jimin would most likely feel incredibly awful seeing you in such a state of undress, now. Doesn't associate who you are now with the girl they all met at Dionysus way back when. His encounters with you weren't particularly unique, nor meaningful. He doesn't think of them.

Thinks of you now like an add-on of Jeongguk. Both annoying. Both people he's entirely comfortable around. Both improve his mood during bad hangovers. Both are responsible for many of those hangovers. You're a package deal, and he'll forever be grateful for Jeongguk not being weird about things, like he knows many people would have been.

In a similar fashion, Jeongguk doesn't think about it—except for rare occasions, for no better reason than to let himself lean into a little bit of toxicity.

"Don't what?" You feign innocence, but you recognise the look in his eye; a little wild and ever so dark, even if there are still stars in them. "It's not like he's never—"

"I don't care what he has done," Jeongguk cuts you off, and hooks his arm around your waist. Doesn't give a shit. Picks you up, and gets you over his shoulder. You yelp, as if it's not exactly what you were anticipating—but what does surprise you?

The direction he takes you in.

"Gguk—" You laugh, but he's having none of it. Those earlier thoughts of being bent over his knee are remedied as he spanks your ass to assert a little dominance.

"Don't give a fuck what he has done," Jeongguk repeats as he kicks open the door to a bedroom that doesn't belong to him. "'Cause we both know you never fuckin' came in here, did you? Huh? You ever orgasm in here?"

Part of you is in a state of shock. He cannot seriously be thinking about having his way with you in his housemate's room. Anywhere else? Fine. Sure. Have already been there, done that, got the t-shirt. But Jimin's room?!

That part of you is silenced by the keenness that comes with such a sordid act. Of all the times you've ever told yourself fucking Jeongguk is wrong, you know that this time, it really is.

It's a confusing paradox; he's your boyfriend. Fucking him is a-okay. But fucking him here ?! Oh, God, you're going to hell.

"Where's that smart mouth of yours gone, huh?" He smirks as he uses his spare hand to pull out Jimin's desk chair. You're lowered down from Jeongguk's shoulder, and he's pleased to see how wide your eyes are. Likes how needy you look. Steals a kiss. Husks, "Not so loud now, are you, baby?"

How you're even supposed to articulate a response to that when your heart is in your throat, you'll never know.

Jeongguk presses his tongue to the back of his front teeth. Breathes out a stifled laugh as he smirks. Shakes his head. Says, "Knees."

And— fuck —you don't know when you became this pathetic and feeble, but his display of dominance has really done something to you. There's no pushback. No defiance. Just compliance as you do as he says and get to your knees. Eyes on his, always.

"Wait here for me, baby," he says softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Is tender in how he's touching you, but the obscured light filtering in through Jimin's blinds makes him look so much more sinister than usual. You're surprised by how much you like it. "Don't move. Okay?"

You nod, Jeongguk's hand still gently cupping your cheek as his thumb traces your lip, then pushes into your mouth. The wet warmth of your tongue makes him fuckin' twitch. He wants you so fucking badly. Doesn't know why he's torturing himself.

When he leaves, you don't move a muscle. Just listen intently to try and work out what he's doing. You hear the manual lock of the front door go first, so even if Jimin does get home early, there's no way he's getting in. Part of you knows Jeongguk likes the risk factor of shit like this, so it's nice to know where his boundary lies. The pad of his footsteps grows quieter, so you can only assume he's in his room.

You sit on your knees, palms on your thighs. Your poise is well-maintained; a little feline in how you hold yourself. The one thing you do change is your hair. Fix it into a ponytail, instead. You know he likes having something to hold onto, and all you want is to give him the things he enjoys in life.

There's a coolness to the air in Jimin's room. Your nipples are hard, and you know there's a mess between your legs already—which only doubles with anticipation as you hear Jeongguk heading back in the direction of Jimin's room.

Unbeknownst to you both, the closing of Jeongguk's bedroom door creates a stir in the air. Wraps around the only bird left hanging—and then all very suddenly, Jeongguk's ceiling is empty, the final fear nestled in his sheets.

When he enters, unaware of what's just happened, he's so pleased to see you did as you were told… almost .

"It's different," he says of your hair, lifting the ponytail to run his palm down it. You're a little bit disappointed when he doesn't yank it, and kind of question your sanity when you realise what you wanted him to do. "Pretty."

He's pleased to see your cheeks apple as he compliments you, your smile a little shy. As he stands in front of you once more, you notice what he's carrying: the tie of his you're far too well acquainted with.

"Lift your hair up for me, baby," he says, and has to admit, the way you just comply to his every whim makes him so fucking twitchy. Wrapping the tie beneath your ponytail, he brings the ends to the top and ties a pretty (even if a little messy) bow. "Keep that safe for me, yeah? Gonna use it later."

You nod, 'cause what else are you gonna fuckin' do? Say no? Fuck that. You can't remember the last time Jeongguk made you feel this submissive. As much as you like switching up the roles, there's something about relinquishing power to him that really shatters your hard exterior. You wanna be vulnerable for him.

Sinking into the desk chair, you half think Jeongguk is vying for a blowjob—of which you desperately want to give. He notices your eyes, and the way your lips hungrily fold in on themselves as you look towards his cock. Smirks in satisfaction.

"Not yet, baby," he tells you. Holds out his hand to help you up, and uses the other to pull at the lever on the bottom of the chair, lowering it as much as he can. There are no armrests to the chair, making it perfect for what Jeongguk wants—and what he wants isn't so dissimilar from your earlier desires. "Told you not to move, didn't I?"

You stand in front of him, looking down at him in a somewhat odd shift to the dynamic—yet he's still entirely in control as his hands stroke up your figure. Warm and wide, you love his hands. Always have done. Always will.

Nodding, you give no verbal response. Don't feel like it's needed.

"But your hair changed, didn't it?"

There's a softness to his voice that makes everything about this so much more intense than an overtly masculine display of dominance would give. It's the way he holds power, in abundance, without raising his voice or scaring you, that makes your heart feel like it will beat out of your chest.

Again, you nod.

"Not very good at following orders, are you?"

This time, you shake your head.

Feels like there's not a single thought up in your brain right now. Everything has been pushed to the side to make way for the anticipation of what's to come.

Jeongguk's tattooed hand trails down you arm, then wraps around your wrist. Pulls you closer. Turns you slightly, until you're standing next to him, staring yourself out in the mirror. He glances across to it, meets your gaze, and says, "See. Told you so. Pretty."

You hide your smile well, you think. Watch your face in the mirror, and realise that it's impossible to hide how Jeongguk makes you feel, for it blooms over your entire being.

"Just 'cause you're pretty doesn't mean you can break the rules, though, B," he reprimands you, and encourages you to lean over his knees.

The chair's height isn't ideal, and you thank your lucky stars Danbi forces you to pole every other week so you at least have a little power in your legs to keep yourself supported.

Jeongguk wises up to the height issue pretty quickly—but he wants you looking in the mirror, so knows a little compromise has to be made. He supports your body with his forearm, holding you up across the front of your shoulders, his hand curling around your arm to keep you steady.

The sight in the mirror is sin; how Jeongguk is surveying your body, eyes trailing down the dip of your spine to the pert rounding of your ass. The strain on your legs means your brows are already a little furrowed, one of your hands resting on the edge of the seat for extra support, while the other grips onto the arm of his that's keeping you steady.

As his eyes rake down your body, his hands stroke. Grapple. Soothe. Get reacquainted with that ass of yours that he loves so much.

"What's the word?" He asks.

It's a simple phrase only ever uttered in moments of impiety. Lets you know whatever he's about to do goes beyond the realm of your usual encounters and it only serves to get your heart racing even faster.

The whiplash of your earlier upset, and current desperation just makes you so much more pliable for him. So agreeable. You'll do whatever he wants. Are his to use as he pleases—which is funny, because all he wants is to please you .

"Chess," you say, breath so shallow it's almost a whisper.

"Good girl," he says just as softly. He's teasing, and he damn well knows it. Is gentle in how he speaks to you, 'cause he knows he's about to be anything but gentle. "See, you do know how to behave, don't you?"

You nod—then find yourself gasping as the hand that had been softly stroking your skin cracks against it. The force makes your body jerk, but he steadies you just as quickly as he spanks you.

"Words, baby. Tell me."

You try again. Give a pathetic 'yes' , only to be sent reeling once more.

He has the audacity to laugh, and it just makes you fucking drip . The glisten of your pussy leaking onto your inner thighs gets exposed with every spank, and Jeongguk just can't help himself. Lets his middle finger swipe between your soaked folds, before sinking it into your entrance with zero resistance.

The way you moan is like a fucking symphony, he thinks. Mozart would have a field day with the noises you make. Vivaldi would name a season after you. He wishes he had his phone on him. Wants to record your sounds; your bated breaths, your soaked cunt, your desperate gasps, moans, whines—all of it.

Long, slow strokes; his middle finger pumping into you elicits the most pathetic noises from you, eyes fastened shut from how euphoric it feels. It's too bad. He wants to see them. Wants the intimacy that comes with it.

"Eyes open," he tells you.

You try, but it's just too good. You can't help but let your eyes roll back into the pleasure, lids closing as you succumb to the way he feels inside you. You hear the softness of a small laugh, but the words that follow are stern.

"Open, or I'll stop."

"You're so fuckin' mean," you whine, forcing your eyes open—and it really is a struggle, especially when he begins to increase his pace.

His middle finger continues to fuck itself into you, his speed building, the noise of it all so fucking lewd. Shivers run through your body, thanks to the loss of autonomy you always seem to have whenever he's inside you.

"Watch your language, or I'll stop," he threatens, but glances over to the mirror to meet your eyes. You're so headstrong, so stubborn, and yet for him? Oh, you're pathetic . He loves it. "And I can be meaner, baby. Trust me."

"Gguk—"

He pulls out from you quickly, delivering a sharp spank to your ass. The crack echoes into the room, your body jolting, a pathetic whimper mewling from your lips as he steadies you.

As quickly as he withdrew from you, he sinks his finger back into you. Gives you no fuckin' respite. Keeps his momentum up.

"Don't call me that," he husks. If you were to have any cognitive thoughts in this moment, you'd be a little confused. It isn't a name that usually has too much of an effect on him. You just don't realise that that's the issue; he wants you to address him by names only you can say. "Who am I? To you, who am I?"

"My— oh, fuck —you're my boyfriend," You whimper. Admitting it like this gets you feeling all kinds of fucked up. "Shit. Gguk— fuck ."

"Yeah, I am," he grits, a little aggressive in the way he's fingering you, but in such a way that makes you feel like a fire has been sparked inside you. All pleasure, no pain—until he reprimands you for your foul language again.

He pulls out. Spanks you. One cheek, then the next. Is quick in his succession, giving you next to no time to register the sensation, and then is plugging you again with his fingers.

Is gritting his teeth as he growls, "And I'm making you feel good, yeah?"

Clutching his arm so tightly you're gonna leave nail marks, you nod. Gasp. "So good."

His cock is so hard; his tip hot as it throbs, resting up against his lower abdomen. Is trapped between his body and yours, and with every movement he dictates out of you, he's also getting a little friction. Is all desperate and needy, in the way it leaks a pretty bead of precum from the slit, smearing on his skin. Yours, too.

He ignores it as best he can. Is only thinking about you.

"That's right," he says a little breathlessly, a little surprised by just how much he feels like he's out of control, despite having complete authority over you. "So watch your language, and don't call me what everyone else calls me. You've got privileges, baby. Use them."

And then it clicks.

You've got privileges, baby.

It's different to the usual teasing. He doesn't want you to stroke his ego. He wants you to hold his heart.

"I'm sorry," you breathlessly plead for forgiveness, as if he actually gives a shit about your sailor's tongue, and isn't just looking for an excuse to spank you. A second finger of his pushes into you, desperate to elicit more delicate moans. This time, you do watch your language. Do exactly what he wants of you. "Oh, God—" you almost feel like you're gonna cry. "—That's it, babe. God, that's it ."

Babe .

He might actually fuckin' nut from just hearing you call him that.

If he were to really be in control, he'd tell you off for such blatant blasphemy, or some shit like that—but he doesn't care, and can't think straight enough to pretend he does.

"So fuckin' hot," he mumbles instead, as his fingers keep up the pace that's gotten you all shaky for him.

You're really not supporting yourself anymore. It's his hold on you that's keeping you locked in position. Every couple of strokes, your legs shake just a little bit more, and your whines are so breathless he knows you're nearly there.

"Tell me how I make you feel," he husks, voice soft. "Tell me how close you are."

"Close," you whimper, because it's all you can manage. "So close, babe."

"Gonna cum all over my fingers, aren't you?"

"Gguk—" you gasp, mind numb, body burning. He doesn't reprimand you, this time. Keeps his pace. You try and muster an apology for disobeying him, but find it impossible. "Oh, fuck —"

"It's okay," he grits through clenched teeth. You manage to open your eyes for a moment, and just a single glance at his face—his knotted eyebrows, tense jaw, parted lips, damp hair, undeniable beauty—seals the deal. The shaking of your legs gets harder to handle. Knees weak, you really do sound like you might fuckin' cry. "Be a good girl for me, yeah? Cum for me."

It's a request, not a demand, but the pace at which he's fucking you with his fingers makes it impossible to refuse.

The sensation of pleasure that waves over you travels from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, sparking as it reaches its climax. Body tense as your muscles struggle to deal with the lightning that's cracking through your veins, you shudder for him. Don't have to fake a single thing.

Jeongguk's no stranger to what it's like to have you like this, but each and every time it happens he's stunned. Can't form a single cognitive thought, let alone a sentence that makes any sense. Just curses.

"Fuck," he exhales, a fucking laugh stifling in his throat as your orgasm soaks him. You didn't squirt like you sometimes do, but it doesn't matter when he makes you as wet as he does. His fingers and palm were already coated, but you're all over his thigh now as well as your own. "God, this pussy, B," he praises. "So fuckin' perfect."

You give an exhausted giggle, the laughter making your pussy get even tighter around his fingers. Body well and truly spent, it's a miracle you haven't actually fallen to the floor—but his grip on you is so protective, he'd never let that happen.

What he does do, is slowly pull his fingers from you, and stroke at the peachy pink marks left by his palm. "You okay?"

Nodding, eyes closed, you're all pliable for him. Limp and lethargic. Need a moment to recover before you can return the favour. There's a serenity to you, he thinks, as he watches you in the mirror.

Though he doesn't wanna break the moment, he also wants you in his sheets. You look so sleepy, and honestly there's nothing he'd love more than a lazy little fuck with you right now; like a pretty bow tied on top of a present just for him.

Easing you up, Jeongguk makes sure to keep you supported, moving you into a straddle position over his lap. Your ass is closer to his knees than his cock, and it's deliberate, 'cause he doesn't trust himself. Arms draping over his shoulders as his hands grip your waist, you let your foreheads meet, noses not quite nudging.

"Hey," he greets you with a soft whisper. Fixes the issue of your noses not nudging. Cranes his neck a little to get his stroking up against yours—but then pulls a little higher, so he can press a pretty little kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Hi," you reply, dreamy and dulcet in how wrecked you sound.

Nose nestling back against his, you let his lips press down into yours. In search of refuge, they're so pouty that it takes next to no effort.

You grant him the shelter he's seeking; give him a home between your lips as if you don't know you're silently stealing his soul in the process.

Pulling back, even though he really doesn't want to, Jeongguk gets to his feet, wrapping your body around him as he does so. Your arms are secure over his shoulders, legs around his waist.

Head nestled into the crook of his neck, he's reminded of his tie as your hair presses against his jaw. Had intended on using it way before you came undone but kinda got carried away. It's no huge loss. Will just use it later, he's sure.

With a smile, his arm holds you securely in place as he tucks the desk chair back in place.

"We leaving?" you ask, as if you really care.

"Want you in my bed," he simply says, without clarifying. Could be for sex, could be to sleep. Again, you don't really care. Just wanna be stuck to him like glue.

His job in Jimin's room is done. Just wanted to settle that little part of his brain that would sometimes taunt him about your time spent in there. Wanted to rewrite your memories, and is pretty certain he achieved his goal.

Careful as he carries you through the apartment, he knows he's definitely gonna get some negative karma points for what he just did. If Jimin ever found out, he'd probably skin him alive. It's boyish, how Jeongguk smirks to himself, and tightens his grip around your body, thinking to himself that it was worth it.

Setting you down on his bed, he doesn't notice the slight sound of crumpling paper—but you feel it. Chirp a little confusion, which has Jeongguk asking, "Wassup?"

Adjusting slightly, you reach behind yourself.

Jeongguk looks up, just to check on the birds—and that's when he realises.

Bird in your hand, you look up towards him with a loss of autonomy. Forget you have ownership over the birds, too. Don't even think to open it, or at least not until Jeongguk panics and snatches it from you without saying a word.

"Woah, woah, woah," you laugh, your fucked-out soul finally returning to your body. You reach for his hand, but he pulls it back. Doesn't let you take the bird. "Excuse me?!"

"No can do," he shakes his head. "It's wing's broken. You can't look at it. Not yet."

An odd thing for him to say, you think.

Very odd indeed, considering he strung it up after your first trip to Busan, and has had ample opportunity to make any amendments, if he wanted to. You don't know any of this, though.

"Why—"

"Just because!" He interrupts, but he's smiling, at least. Is also naked, and given the fact you're sitting at the end of his bed, he should really be more careful about how vulnerable he is right now. You could sack-tap him, if you really wanted. Forcefully regain access to the 'broken' bird.

Silence lingers between you both, the tilting of Jeongguk's head puppy-like compared to the feline narrowing of your eyes.

Chalk and cheese, you really are ever so different and yet intrinsically fated. Aligning stars and strings of fate are weak in comparison to whatever it is you have between the pair of you.

Glitter and gold, are you and Jeongguk. Cosmic and yet entirely of this earth. Exactly where you're meant to be. Feet on the ground; heads in the clouds.

"Let me see it," you implore, reaching out to pull him onto the bed with you. He complies to this, at least. Even though he's on top of you, he ignores the nakedness, and the almost guaranteed sex he was about to have. Can't think about that right now. "There's nothing to be scared of, remember? It's just me. Just us."

Jeongguk lets the angle of his head drop ever so slightly as he shakes it. There's almost a sense of shame that washes over him; as if there's nothing more embarrassing than the words scrawled onto his bird.

"You're never normally this nervous over birds, Gguk," you smile, reaching up to rake your fingers through his messy, still damp, hair. A smile tweaks at his lips as you do so, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You can't help but notice the glisten of his lip ring from your peripherals. Even now, it still makes your stomach flip. "Nothing you could ever write on those birds would change the way I feel about you. You know that, right?"

Jeongguk barely registers the fact he's speaking out loud when he says, "That's kinda the issue."

With a groan, and a pitiful laugh, he rolls off you. His back thumps against his bed, and just like that, you're a pair of stars looking up to the skies once more. It's as if you're both aware you're meant for more than this world.

But Jeongguk's spent years staring at the ceiling. Never realised it wasn't the plain white paint that was keeping his attention, but his inevitable pull to the galaxies above and beyond.

It takes a second for the realisation to sink in, but once it does, it's stark: there are no birds left on Jeongguk's ceiling.

"How is it an issue?" You laugh, finding his sudden shyness endearing. It's not entirely unlike him, but he's usually far more confident in himself when it comes to the birds. Just a natural consequence of working through so many of them together. "Unless it's a break up bird—but you told me there weren't any."

"And there aren't," he laughs right back, sighing once the joy settles into the atmosphere around him. "It's just…"

You wait for him to carry on, turning your head to look at him. There's a smile etched into his cheeks, eyes starry as they look up towards the nothingness above him—and when he turns to face you too, it's like a meteor shower is happening right before your very eyes.

Silent as he passes the bird to you, silent permission is granted. What's his, is now yours.

"Read the damn bird," he quietly implores you, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. He doesn't need to. Is just preening for the sake of it. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because he needs distraction.

It's kind of funny. His heart was all out of sync when he strung the bird up, but it's calm now. Almost as if it was waiting until the right time. It fell at this very point in time, because divine intervention can exist. When it comes to you and Jeongguk, it seems like it always has done.

A hundred and one crossed paths brought you to this point; placed you right here, right now.

Maybe if you had paid attention during mindless Tinder scrolls and actually replied to the rogue guy who had your favourite Wave to Earth song as his 'anthem', Jeon Jeongguk could have been a casual hookup instead.

If you'd have been the one working on the till instead of serving tables at the cafe you used to part time in, Jeongguk might have dropped his change when he was distracted by your glitter.

Perhaps if you'd have paid more attention to the kind strangers grabbing you their favourite vodka in the supermarket aisles, or the boys you kissed at parties during your reckless university years, you'd have never ended up in Dionysus that night. Or at least you would have, but Jeongguk wouldn't have been a stranger.

If he'd have attended an event with Namjoon two years ago instead of bailing for the chance to grab coffee with Hayun when she was in town, he might've seen you rolling your eyes at the pompous chatter of the city's wealthy. He'd have laughed. Might've struck up a conversation. Probably would have felt guilty afterwards, as if he was doing something wrong. Maybe it would have made him realise Hayun wasn't right for him a hell of a lot sooner.

See, you've been orbiting one another for a while now. Since the dawn of time, really. Your paths just took a little while to align. Now that they have, they'll stay on this path forevermore.

Astronomers have learned that skies are largely made up of binary star systems; two stars orbiting one another. Half of all stars in the sky, or so they say. Some are so close that they even share the same atmosphere.

Collisions of these orbiting stars are rare, and almost impossible to predict. TESS data from NASA predicted such a collision would occur in the constellation of Cygnus, only for the data to have been incorrect. No merge to be seen with the naked eye; no new Red Nova to fill the skies.

Jeongguk half thinks perhaps astronomers had predicted his orbit incorrectly, too; as if they'd aligned him with a meteor when he should have been with a star.

S'why he thinks it took him so long to wise up to his inevitable collision with you.

Now that things have been recalibrated, and the data checked, it seems ridiculous for him to have ever thought a meteor was the correct pairing.

A star is what he needed. What he found in you.

As your fingers hook beneath the paper, and a coy look is thrown his way, Jeongguk realises that none of it matters.

He could blame this on the stars, or the astronomers, or the powers above—but you and Jeongguk are the product of conscious choices. Bad decisions, and good ones, too. Some pretty fuckin' fantastic ones, if you ask him.

There's a speck of glitter on the paper as you unfold the bird. It seems to take hours, Jeongguk thinks - he just doesn't realise he's impatient for you to know what is written inside it.

You give him one final glance before you look down at the paper, drinking in those dark brown eyes that are glittering with the reflection of you, then let your eyes drop.

Part of Jeongguk wants to snatch the paper back, again.

To make a fuss and make a nuisance. To tell you that it was just a fear, and that he didn't really mean it.

But that's the thing.

He's not scared.

And he really did mean it.

Lips parted, there's an endearing confusion lacing your features. Though his handwriting isn't anything to write home about, it's perfectly eligible. He knows you've read his words.

Tell B I love her.

Eyes flicking up to meet his, all wide and without reservation, they're accented with sweetly furrowed brows that just confirm to him that what he had written remains inexorably true.

He is in love with you.

It's sort of charming, how delicately he bites down on his bottom lip, nerves taking hold of his face.

So pretty, is Jeongguk whenever he's unsure of himself. He's strong far more often; confident in a way you don't think you'll ever truly master, but there's something about how dainty he becomes with vulnerability that makes your heart swell.

And God, you don't think your heart could swell any more. If you're not careful, it'll burst, and out will pour liquid gold; origami birds swimming in the essence that makes you live.

It takes you a moment to gather any words, so scared of saying the wrong thing.

"Do you?" You eventually manage to ask; not because you don't believe his words, but because you can't help but second guess.

Are so scared of looking foolish, that even though you know it's not some kind of sick joke, you just want to be sure that he's sure. That the way he felt when he strung that bird up is how he feels now. That the bird was strung up with intention .

There's a timidness to your voice, and that scares him . "Do you want me to?"

Part of you wants to laugh. It's such a cop-out. Can't answer a question with a question.

But you also can't let him doubt himself. Not now. He's given you the moon, and it's time you give him a little something in return.

"Yeah," you say quietly. A shy smile cracks on his pouted lips. "Yeah, I want you to."

And so it comes naturally when Jeongguk matches your tone, and shyly admits, "I do."

He breathes out a laugh, as if he can't believe he's just said it, then realises he hasn't said anything. Not really. He's not verbalised it, and so—

"Love you, I mean," he corrects himself. "Like, I— Well, I mean— Fuck. I just love you. Like, I really fucking love you, B."

"You love me."

"I love you."

"You love me," you say, giggling now.

Oh, it's all so sickening. Disgustingly sweet. Adorable, how your soft hands clutch his sharp jaw, pretty kisses being gifted to his lips.

"You know I do," he mumbles into your lips. "God, you know I do."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you—now are you gonna say it back, or are you gonna keep laughing at me?"

"Not at you, Gguk," you grin. " With you."

"If you could hurry up and make grand declarations with me instead, it'd be much appreciated."

"Why?" You beam. "You think I don't?"

"Well, you've never told me you do."

"Hold that thought—" you clamber off of him and hurry to his desk. Pull open the drawer, with zero questioning from Jeongguk, 'cause what does he have to hide? You know him better than he knows himself. There's no part of him, not even secrets hidden at the back of his drawers, that he wouldn't share with you.

Taking a moment to pause, you reach up, loosen the tie around your hair, and toss it back to him.

"Eyes," you instruct. "Cover them."

Reaching to grab the silky material, Jeongguk just does as he's fuckin' told. After being so dominant with you earlier, he takes solace in letting you lead. Is so pretty, when you glance back, eyes covered, nose dewy, lips pink and perfectly aligned. Gorgeous.

Rummaging for a second, you pull out a fresh sheet of origami paper, and reach across to steal a pen from his pot. It's a black biro, nothing special, but the worlds you scrawl onto the paper? Oh, they're etched from stardust.

Turning to face him, as you fold up your very own bird, you climb back onto his bed, right where you left him. Straddled over his waist, you let the bird drop from your palms onto his chest.

"Oh no," you feign distress, carefully pulling down the tie to ensure it doesn't catch on his lip ring before it rests at the base of his throat. Nod towards his chest where the bird sits. "It fell."

Jeongguk can't hide his smile as he reaches for it. Holds it up to get a good look at it.

"Long lost brother of Perry," he assesses, still amazed at how uneven your folding can be. "Takes after his mother."

"Should read it," you say. "Then you'll know it really takes after its mother."

Of course it does. Is full of adoration for him.

A little hesitation prolongs Jeongguk's opening of the bird. It's like the build of a rollercoaster, and he's trying to ride the high before the drop. He keeps his eyes on yours as he unfolds it. Doesn't look down to read it.

Just looks at you.

Says, "I should have told you sooner."

The smile already on your face blooms a little wider. You just shake your head. Think he timed it just right—or that the birds did.

"Fell when it was supposed to," you promise.

And you're right. Even the birds you thought were too bold, or extreme at the start fell when they were meant to. After all, they lead you here.

Glancing down to your bird, Jeongguk inhales a sharp breath. Knocks his head to the side, hair ruffling against the pillow. His smile grows. Grows and grows and grows. Dimples make themselves at home, and stars litter his eyes.

The words are clear as day; biro on paper, ink on skin, stars in eyes.

I love you.

Looking back up at you, he cheekily asks, "Do you?"

With a roll of your eyes and a smile that Jeongguk thinks is so pretty he should learn how to write poetry, you sink into an all too familiar position with him.

The way your bodies move together is intrinsic; like trained dancers who have been rehearsing their steps for years. When you lead, he follows, much like he is now as your nose nudges up against his. Lips close enough to brush, you giggle. Almost pull back, because you feel all bashful and shy, but know that you can't. Not now.

"Of course I do," you whisper. It's so dumb that he even has to ask, but neither of you have been entirely foreboding about your true feelings. Always kept them squirreled away. Safe. Free from the prying eyes of those who wouldn't understand.

That's the thing though; astronomy is complicated, and tricky, and well above your pay grade, but everyone can see the stars. Everyone loves them regardless. They look to them. Wish upon them. Put faith in the way they move, even if the science makes no sense to them.

The same could be said for the pair of you; Galileo and his Saturn.

"Say it," he teases, lips brushing against yours.

"Say please," you tease right back.

"Not gonna beg you to love me."

"Hmm," you hum a noise of contemplation. Even though he's joking, you realise that there could be a little honesty behind the jibe. "You're a tough bargainer."

"And you love it," he says, because he needs to hear you say it.

There's really no need to play coy. Not now.

So you don't. Just nod. "And I love it."

"And you love me," he chances.

"And I love you."

The way Jeongguk kisses you now goes beyond just a simple meeting of lips. All-encompassing, he cares not for breathing, nor for the fact you're separate human beings. Your lips, your tongue, your moans, he wants it all. Needs it.

And you need him.

"Fuck me," you mumble into his mouth. "Please."

"Yeah?" He asks as if you're not already adjusting, amorous in the way you refuse to part.

Nodding into the kiss, you line yourself up with him. "Yeah."

The first push is slow; a welcome intrusion. You're still a little tender, and he doesn't personally care to be rough with you. Just wants to be with you. To fill you. To be as close as he can, as he mumbles candid declarations into your ear.

You beat him to it, though, as you sink down onto his incredibly hard cock.

"Fuck," you moan, all breathless and feeble despite no real action taking place. Clutching at his jaw, you rest your forehead against his. Swallow back another moan. Swear, through stifled breaths, "I love you."

He laughs. Oh God, he laughs, and you think he's never sounded more beautiful.

"Don't say shit like that," he smiles. Is breathless, too, when he laughs. "I'll die."

And die he does, not even five minutes later, in a mess of slow thrusts and deep confessions that he never thought would see the light of day. With their freedom comes his liberation; the knowledge that he can love and be loved in return. That it's reciprocal.

The way he comes undone for you is celestial; pretty whimpers and kisses that blossom and fall like cherry trees in the spring. Heaven on earth, even when committing acts that'd land you a permanent prison in hell. He'd take it, if it meant he got eternity with you.

That's the thing about love. There are no limits. He'll follow it to the edge of earth; the end of time. You'll encourage him on the chase, not because you're running from him, but because the idea of ever stopping fills you with dread. If eternity is an option, you want it. Want it with him.

Hips jerking beneath you, his back arching ever so slightly as his shoulders press into his duvet, Jeongguk is heaven-sent. There's a shudder to his chest. A haze to his dark eyes; stars sparking with every jolt of his muscles. Neck thick as he strains, the vein that runs up the side of his throat is begging for kisses.

Nodding, you encourage him.

"Please," you mewl, grinding your hips for him. There's a serenity to your skin; dewy and warm, just how he likes you. Cheeks pink, lips even pinker, he wishes he could preserve this moment forevermore, but has no idea where the fuck his phone is. Has to revel in it instead. Pay attention to every single one of his senses just so that he can recall it in his memories for years to come. But then you speak, and he can't compute fuckin' anything. "Cum for me, babe. Show me how much you love me."

He pulls you back down, not to kiss you, but simply hug you as his hips thrash up into you. Something about the way you call him babe just makes him feel so adored. Precious. Pink. Arms strong around your back, he presses kisses against the curve of your neck. Promises, "Oh, God, I love you."

He repeats it like an oath. A sacred prayer. Again and again, until he can't take it any longer. Asks where you want him to finish, and doesn't get a verbalised answer. Just gets your lips on his, whines in each other's mouths. Tongues, too. Teeth clashing, and absolutely no fucks given. It's frankly a mess, but fuck if it isn't the most at-one with another person he's ever felt. Just makes it so easy to unload himself into you; to fill you with everything that he is.

Hand gripping at the base of your ponytail, he pulls you back. Wants to look at you as the final ropes of his cum escape his body and find a home in yours. Eyes hazy and a little fucked-out, desperately trying not to get distracted by the glitter sparkling on your skin, he nods to let you know he's done.

Repeats, once more, "I fuckin' love you."

And then you're bashful. Giggling, as if he's just said the most sordid thing in the world. He winces a little from the pressure around his sensitive cock, but doesn't pull out. In fact, he keeps his hands firmly on your hips, keeping you in place.

Leaning down to deliver an incredibly sweet kiss, one that he'll want to lick from his lips forever, you whisper, "Good. I am your girlfriend. Would be super awkward if you didn't love me."

He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Laughs, now too, then taps your thigh to encourage you off of him, but doesn't let you get too far away. Pulls you in for a hug as soon as you're beside him.

"This shit'll never get old," he says, as he toys with your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. "God, why did it take us so long?"

It's a good question. One that you could theorise answers for—but you're sleepy, and you need to shower again.

"Stupid," is all you reply, pulling away and grabbing a fresh pair of Jeongguk's boxers to slip on just for a little dignity before you walk to the bathroom. He did finish inside you, after all. Is never the neatest of situations. Turning as you reach the doorframe, you're so incredibly enamoured with the way his eyes have followed you, chin pressed to his chest, face a little round from the angle. He's so cute it's hard to remember quite how domineering he had been earlier. "You coming with?"

"Shower?" He asks, to which you nod. "Go start it up. I'll sort the sheets, then join you."

"Want a hand? With the sheets?"

Shaking his head as he gets to his feet, he shoos you off. "I'll be, like, three minutes."

And because you're pathetic and hopelessly in love with the man in front of you, you say, "I'll miss you."

"Gross," he replies with a smirk. "Almost like you love me, or something."

"Nah," you shrug, matching his playful energy. "We're just friends."

"My cum is literally inside you right now."

"Okay, fine ," you exaggerate. " Best friends."

"Get the fuck outta here with that best friends shit," he laughs, as he sets about stripping the bed. "Go. I'll join you."

Eyes trained on you as you walk away, Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head. Hates how much of a softie he's being, but just can't help himself.

"Hey, B?" He calls after you.

"What?" You yell back from the bathroom, door ajar to make things easier for him. Expecting some dumb remark, you're grinning from ear to ear because of how easy all this is.

Things are finally falling into place.

As his voice echoes through the apartment, it seems like they're falling right where they were always supposed to.

"Love you."

[kvntsugi]

stella

"Realistically, just because we work hybrid and got called into work today doesn't mean you should slack off too much on your attire, Yunkyoung." My face mimicked a grimacing expression that dawned on my face. Whilst I have worked with the pink-haired girl for a few years at this point, what she did was no surprise. Especially due to the fact it's only a few people (me and literally just her) in today for some unknown reason.

The sound of a pen clicking as she leaned against my cubicle, my eyes leering back towards the dual setup monitors and resuming the clacking sounds of the keyboard typing away on excel. One column over the other and comparing quarterly data, analyzing assets of certain stocks to get the best ROI for our company.

"It's not like it matters, no? We're the only ones here besides the cleaning staff. And you seem to have everything under control - I know how you been working, Oppa." Yunkyoung's sweet voice spoke out so melodicly, they were music to my ears. Feeling her soft palms on my shoulders with an eensy bit of pressure applied that formed goosebumps in my forearms.

How could someone who seemed nonchalant seem so carefree and upbeat? If she doesn't work, then how could our tasks be done for the day? She's probably different when she's conversing with others, or even doing anything else but her job. Maybe even a nepo-baby at this point but she's so deep in the company she might as well be grandfathered in. She didn't have a CTA certification either, I'd bet money on that.

Small moves going about with her thumbs being applied down, my eyes forming crescents and feeling relaxed when slumping down into my seat - the WPM on the keyboard getting slower as my fingers didn't follow along to the thoughts in my head for the work I had to be done.

But regardless - Seo Yunkyoung. She was teh daughter of the company president, and is also my 'boss.' On paper that is, but in retrospect, I think most of the team still regards me as the head and treats me with more respect than from what I've seen from chatter and other people's circles.

"Why, what's wrong?" Her voice spoke up with her hands stopped moving in conjuction. As if it were a big surprise I stopped working since there was always some efficient routine going about. If I tell her to continue what she was doing as I felt comfortable, she might just stop talking to me and not believe me with how far out the comment was.

"No… nevermind, don't worry about it." My lips tugged out from side to side with fingers picking up the pace on the tapping.

"Alright then, report every detail to me. And we are getting another new hire in the office today as well; HR told me last week in an email and I specifically recommended you for the on-hire process.

"…Okay." Speaking out casually as I tried to ignore her.

"Also!" Yunkyoung's voice rose as she smacked my shoulder, causing me to wince out in a feigned amount of pain. "Don't go around trying to seduce her because she might be young and pretty!" My body turned out in the chair and gave her a puzzling look, head tilted off to the side and lips became agape at her ridiculous request - not that I had any plans to seduce any said new-hire. But the face she thought I would have the audacity to do such a thing.

"All men like cute and young girls, so I'm warning you in advance. She gets canned immediately if that happens." Her dainty finger pointing out at me and nearing my forehead, she was asserting her position over me when I tried to roll back in my seat to get some space between the two of us.

"Yeah, yeah. Obviously, I wouldn't be doing anything. No point in risking my career." Shrugging my shoulders out at her, unsure of why she would accuse me of such a thing. I've never once in the past three years of working here have I crossed a line with anyone.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, so watch yourself." The pink-haired girl spoke as she walked away, not having other words to speak to me about when she was nearly across the hall and into her office. My arms crossed against my chest and leaning back against the comfort of the seat to try to get an idea of why she would suddenly speak of this. I'm already too tired to think about training someone else, and it seems like it's someone she might even know if she's making disparaging comments like this.

Would she be coming in soon? Or when exactly should I be expecting a new face in the boring slums of the office?

Still, if something bad happens. Good things are bound to happen as well, or whatever uplifting phrases are the norm nowadays. As I chipped away and widdled down my research a reminiscent sound rang out. The messenger app the office used to communicate with one another.

"The part-timer is coming up now, and I've assigned her to help with your chores for the day." Yunkyoung. Nobody else would have sent someone like that. And what chores do I have, exactly?

The sound of a shuffling pair of feet came and rang in my ears as Yunkyoung gave me a wide grin when passing by my desk, our eyes gazing at each other with her orbs forming crescents that looked all too adorable and familiar. There shouldn't be too much of an introductory party thought, right? Since it was only the two of us here?

"Ahem, excuse me!!" Yunkyoung's voice rose as time seemed to go by quickly, not realizing that she might have introduced herself already to the new girl. Unsure at her actions though as it was just us two and she could have just spoken normally instead of whatever voice she was trying to capture. "Let me introduce you to Kim Yeonhee. She'll be working in our department starting today."

My eyes peered at the new girl who sported a blonde pigtail look. Her top spoke volumes with how contrasted the color was to everything else in the office. It was a breath of fresh air but if this was how her wardrobe was - it was something I had to acclimate to. Not one to complain too much though, always a big fan of change and if someone kickstarts it I'm all for it.

Standing from my seat and giving a courtesy bow and extended my hand to the foreign girl, trying to make her feel welcome with my rugged expression and attempting my best grin out in hopes she wouldn't get frightened off.

++

"She doesn't seem too bad, right?" Yunkyoung pulled me aside during our lunch break, going to the roof to enjoy a bit of the sunlight and escape the dungeon that was our workspace. I leaned back against the railing with a coffee in hand that the gracious Yeonhee grabbed for me as I wasn't too sure what else to make her do. She didn't know any of the basics; no excel, quickbooks, or any of that sort. But hey! She was pleasant on the eyes, maybe as much as our boss was. "I picked someone who's a hard worker so you could get some rest. "

The shorter girl got closer to me and dragged me by the tie to pull me in for a chaste kiss. My arms drooped down to our sides and wrapping her small frame around my grasp, keeping her in close and forgetting what I was about to say, all thoughts went out the window as our lips became one. Despite being a polar opposite of the girl I was addicted, no matter how much complaining and whining I would do. It all came down to this in the end and I have no regrets.

My motivation to work slowly declined and vanished into the air, her lips was so intoxicating. She was so… aimlessly flirty, for a girl that was an extrovert it was all but a surprise when she came to me. Or if I succumbed to her and I was twirling around her fingers. My cheekbone was getting embraced when I felt the inches lessen more between us, chest to chest with my breathing getting heavier. Running my hands up and down on her body and landed on her rear that I envisioned, it's been far too long since the last escapade I did with her. When my lips parted, her long freshly varnished nails found their way to the buttons of her shirt.

"I've noticed you checking me out, silly. Don't play dumb." She spoke with utter confidence with how it oozed out of her voice. She continued to smirk at me while undressing her shirt until the last button was undone.

My hands going up like she was an officer and I was trying not to be guilty of my crime. "My bad, and I thought I was being discreet." A toothy grin came about from me, making the girl giggle at my response. She put both of her hands to my jaw and pulled myself in for another kiss - longer this time. My eyes fluttered to a close to let the darkness envelop over me and hearing the sounds of lip-locking and having the wind be an adlib to the music that drew to my ears. The plastic cup of coffee fell to the floor beneath us and my hands found it's way towards her back, finding the clasp of her bra and un-doing it. Her bosoms weren't the biggest, but they were perfect for her stature. And in general, she was absolutely divine and sculpted so beautifully.

My hands immediately went towards her chest and cupped them from the underside, massaging them in a circular motion but both in different directions from one another, feeling her perky nipples spring against the palm of my hand as I couldn't take my eyes off her face and how it contorted when getting played with. Her nipples kept rising in time with my loving touches, tensing and becoming utterly stiff, and they were begging to get licked and sucked on.

Her hands reached to the back of my head, which I took as an open invitation. With an open mouth, feeling the insides of it begin to drool and seep out, having to gulp down a small pool of saliva that formed in the pit of my mouth and throwing my face between the peaks of her chest. They were a delight for me - and any man in general. Taking a deep breath and inhaling her scent, feeling her body and humming out gleefully at the mixture of perfume residue and sweat that built up.

My wet tongue embraced the soft and stiff nipple, making a diligent attempt to suck it off. But it was still stuck no matter how hard and long I sucked that little meat marshmallow. Letting out moans against her supple skin and feeling it reverberate out and showcasing how much I enjoyed it. Her moans were stifled out by the fact she didn't want to be all too loud. Not wanting the newcomer nor the public to hear how ratchet she could become as they were still in the eyes of the public - if one were to look up at spot them that was.

Making a trail of kisses from the middle of her chest and stopping right below her belly button. My hands following right along and hiking up her tight skirt and using a bit of elbow grease to fully cup them above her waist.

"No panties today, Yunky?" A curious brow raised up from me and slipping my dominant hand between her inner thighs and discovering the forbidden secret that now only us two know.

"Hehe, oops. Might have forgotten to put a pair on today!" Her words were feeble and ineffective, but she spoke out in such a bright, girlish voice that made her seem like a naive, innocent girl. This sort of acting made me fall more her and just shrugging my body in a non-caring manner.

Taking a glance down between her thick thighs and noticing the girl was sporting a beautiful and clean-shaven pussy. Her lower lips were small and thin but still distinct enough to realize that it was her curved shape. How healthy and pink it was and… well soaked? After a caring caressing of her bosoms. Everything was easily spotted enough and picking out apart from one another.

Yunkyoung was my own oasis. Maybe my personal one with how things were being drawn out. Dipping my head in deeper down and slurped up more of the pink-haired girl's sweet juices - as much as I could. Playing with her clit and flaps with my decadent tongue. My wet muscle was doing a fabulous job (or so I thought, with how many moans she slipped out and grabbed onto my hair.) Her pussy tasted to divine, so heavenly and never wanting to leave, but I was on a limit. Lunch time was almost over and we couldn't spend the full allotted time doing this when there was a newbie on the insides. It was too unfortunate that he couldn't fill her insides with white, but there should be another time when they handle the rest of this.

Making small kisses on the innards of her thighs and sliding my tongue against her skin. SMall purple marks on her white skin to let her know who was just there. Maybe even Yeonhee could spot it if she was diligent enough to notice any differences.

"Why -- why'd you stop?" Yunky's voice got so whiny as I pulled my body up, my legs felt wobbly from standing on my heels for the past half hour and needing to get the blood pumping in them again before they slept on themselves.

"Yeonhee's gonna start searching the office and realize we left and came back together if she's smart enough." Rolling the cuffs on my sleeves up and wiping any lingering liquids on my mouth before gazing down at her. Seeing what a disheveled mess she was and buttoning up her blouse one by one, making sure to leave her bra behind as a treat for me when we get back to the daily tasks at hand.

"Besides, knowing you, you might need some time to doll yourself up again so I might just head back down first so it doesn't look too suspicious to her." My body slumped down to grab the littered cup of coffee that was previously on the floor, walking on over to the trash bin, and turning around to spot the girl one final time in her state. Seeing how she was looking at herself in the camera on her phone she had those worries to think about now before finally heading back over to my desk.

Stepping back into the fray of things and seeing Yeonhee diligently work on her tasks I gave out to her before the break, seeing how she might have just ignored her lunch in itself to try to get an inkling better at the job.

"Alright, Yeonhee." Making sure my voice was loud and clear as I stood above her cubicle. Just thinking about this got my head hurting already and I can't seem to communicate properly. My hand going up to my forehead to try to wane off any of the pain. Yunkyoung did mention that she picked up a hard worker to help with my work. All Yeonhee has to do is work hard.

"So what do you know how to do? You don't know any of the basic office programs on your computer, you can't make paper copies…" With each thing I listed out, she shook her head, hands on her lap with her pleading eyes looking up at me. Why did Yunky choose her - or the company in general? Surely this isn't another case of some family problem going on…

"Wow… this is why young children -"

"You're saying boomer stuff now." My head whipped over to the girl with a shocked expression, eyes widening at her words with her hands covering up her lips. "Oops."

[medusasea]

Hate Sink Wiki Rant

This wiki should not exist. To be fair, at least as a concept it is not as bad the quality Wikis, who acted like media pieces are factually good or bad, when it is actually subjective and while it is totally fine to express your opinion, labeling art as good or bad should be left to decide for each person and not expressed by communities as common knowledge. For example, it's fine if reviewers individually or as a team label something good, bad or in between. It's fine if a circle of people have the same opinions about a piece of media as long as they are not pressuring anyone to agree and as long as said piece of media isn't (seriously) harmful. What is not wrong is to create an entire wiki space that labels subjective concepts as good or bad as if those were objective, universal standards. The reason why the idea of a hate sink wiki isn't as bad, is because it adds characters who were meant by the authors to be hated, in other words it is based on author intentions, rather than quality. If for instance an author confirms they wrote one of their characters as a hatesink, than the label hatesink objectively applies to said character, regardless of the quality of writing. The problem with this is that authors don't often confirm their intentions with their characters, making it hard to tell if a loathsome character was meant to be this way at times.

Now despite my criticism I must admit that I agree with some of their pages. I agree for instance about characters like Sho Tucker and Umbridge being hatesinks even without the author's confirmation. However, many of their pages stretch the definition of hatesink and they disallow pages of characters who are way more vile, annoying or pathetic that some of their existing pages.

They add for instance Suzy Johnson. While she is extremely selfish and manipulative, she is not a murderer, she is only doing evil if you get in her way or if she considers so, her evil deeds are always played for laughs and don't ruin lives and she shows some genuine kindness and relatability when she doesn't think she could lose Jeremy's affection. Now, I don't claim she is a very sympathetic or noble demon, for the most part she isn't, but she is on the lower scale of villainy and her evil schemes are smart and funny, making her way more redeemable, funny and complex than an actual hatesink. Meanwhile, they disallow Junko Enoshima, a mass-murderer and hopecrusher, because she is funny. In this case I do agree with their decision, but the fact that they decided Suzy is a hatesink, despite also being a funny a villain and way less evil than Junko, show's how murky their standards are. They also do not list Angelica Pickles, despite her being generally more annoying than Suzy as she screams more and she has a bigger ego. Also, while bot characters are goofy, Suzy's plans are way more unrealistic and ridiculous than Angelica's, making Angelica feel more like a realistic mean little girl thus more detestable. Not to mention that Angelica is almost always in Rugrats while Suzy appears in only 3 episodes, giving the latter less time to set an impression. I can also list more a lot more characters more annoying than Suzy who didn't make it to the wiki: Sarah from Ed, Edd n Eddy, Millie from Kid vs. Kat, Jake Spidermonkey from My Gym Partner's a Monkey. I don't think those characters should be listed as hatesinks either, though I think it is debatable wether Angelica and Millie are suppose to be hated, since they are just jerks at worst, albeit exaggeratedly bad, and they did show redeeming qualities, I still wouldn't say we can surely label them as hatesinks. I feel like the internet started recently to overhate on Suzy and I don't get why. Now, I understand hating her, I don't even hate her and even I feel like she could've been better written, but I feel like some people give her more shit compared to other characters that are way more vile or annoying than her.

What I find ridiculous is that they sometimes even add very minor characters who are standard jerks or bullies. They added Bufford's past bully who appeared in only one episode for only a few minutes and the worst he did was standard bullying and trying to eat Bufford's goldfish, the latter being a stupid act played for laughs. Sure, he only had only one funny moment that was at the same time an attempt to kill a pet, and sure, it's very bad that he was beating up and picking up on smaller kids. I totally understand if you hate him, I sort of do myself, everyone should hate bullying, but it's not much worse than what kids typically do. I don't claim everyone was a bully in their childhood, but what kid didn't get into fights or acted bratty at times? Sure, he is worse than a typical kid, but again, it's nothing outright evil and we only got a few minutes of this guy. He didn't get enough screen time to leave a lasting impression. We also don't know about his motivation. For all we know, he could be a troubled bully. There was nothing to imply that, but there was nothing to debunk that either. Hating him is understandable, but what makes the wiki contributors so sure that this minor character who is nothing more than a standard and stupid bully who barely got screen time was intended by the creators to be so leave lasting hatred within the audiences to the point that it is worth writing an entire page describing why this character was meant to be hated.

This Wiki should not exist. It might not label quality levels to media, but writing an entire wiki on how to interpret an author's intentions isn't much better, unless maybe they limit themselves exclusively to what authors themselves have to say. This is telling people how to interpret media and I wouldn't have a problem with it if they didn't treat it like it's a fact. TV tropes pretty much has the same problem. I think they should've kept only the definition on hatesink and not listed any examples, again, unless the author confirmed a character to be a hatesink.

[haileyufanime]

A Place Further Than the Universe (1-4)

A Place Further Than the Universe is more than just a heartwarming story about four girls traveling to Antarctica. It’s a deep exploration of dreams, self-discovery, and the power of friendship. The first four episodes subtly highlight not only issues that people face in Japan but also themes that people everywhere can relate to in their own personal lives.

One major theme in the show is the pressure to “fit in.”  For example, Shirase faces constant criticism and ridicule from others because she wants to travel to Antarctica. Her mother disappeared during an expedition to the South Pole, and people don’t understand why Shirase is so determined to follow in her footsteps. This reflects how, in Japan, society often expects people to follow more conventional paths. When someone pursues an unusual or unconventional dream, they can feel judged or isolated. However, this is not just something that happens in Japan, it’s a struggle many people around the world face. Whether it’s pressure from family, friends, or society as a whole, it can be difficult to chase your dreams when others don’t understand why you’re doing it. This applies greatly to me and my life as my goal is to become an officer in the United States Marine Corps. Many people, including family members, have shamed me for not understanding why I want that to be my career. It is not “typical” or “conventional,” especially for a woman. However, I refuse to let the need to fit in stop me from living my dreams, similar to Shirase.

The characters also deal with loneliness and feelings of being disconnected from others, which is something that everyone, regardless of culture, can relate to. Yuzuki, a famous child actress, feels isolated because her career keeps her from forming real relationships. This feeling of being alone, despite being surrounded by people, is something that many young adults, in particular, can understand. The show beautifully illustrates how important it is to find meaningful connections with others in order to heal and move forward emotionally.

Like the characters, many of us find ourselves at crossroads in life, wondering whether we are making the right choices or following the right paths. The show reminds us that pursuing our dreams is often uncertain and filled with challenges, but with courage and the support of others, it’s always a journey worth taking.

Picture from: https://www.baltana.com/anime/a-place-further-than-the-universe-hd-wallpapers-104054.html

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Keep it alight

Little fic based off this post.

"Wei Wuxian... why won't you tell me what happened?"

There was no reply. Wei Wuxian continued to stoke the tiny flames of the fire he had just managed to light up, in the little cave he had found for himself and Jiang Cheng to take shelter in.

It was useless to seek shelter in a cursed place like the Burial Mounds, of course - but it was instinctual, human nature, to at least attempt to find some form of safety, some illusion of it. Soon, night time would come and they'd be torn apart regardless - yet, what else could they do? Await in open space for death to take them?

"Wei Wuxian... what's the point in keeping secrets now? We're dead anyway. No matter what you did or didn't, it's pointless now."

"There's nothing to say." Wei Wuxian finally spoke, uncharacteristically flat. "I came to rescue you, I got caught and Wen Zhuliu melted my core too. What else could have happened?"

"That's not what I remember..."

"What could you remember? You were delirious. You are now too."

"Maybe..."

The fire struggled to stay alight in the damp cave, flickering light and trace warmth into the little space, but it was slowly starting to succumb to the darkness. Wei Wuxian stubbornly insisted on keeping it alive - at least he had something to do that way.

"You're bleeding again."

Wei Wuxian knew, but there was so much he could do, hoping that applying pressure on the area would temporarily stop the blood flowing out. Wen Qing had stitched him well - he knew, he had to be awake and entirely feeling for the whole procedure - but he had no time for recovery because that bastard Wen Chao just had to show up. Of course his stitches had torn.

"Which one of us do you think will die first?"

"Shut up. What's the point in you saying things like that?"

"Since when are you telling others to be quiet? Are you turning into a Lan now?"

Wei Wuxian's thoughts briefly shifted towards Lan Zhan and he suddenly felt even worse than before.

"You should give up."

Wei Wuxian's head almost whipped in Jiang Cheng's direction, angry.

"The fire." Jiang Cheng clarified, "it's not going to stay alight. Give up."

"No."

"Why are you so difficult? We're dying. What's the point of a fire? It won't keep anything away."

"Why don't you shut up? I'm trying to think."

"Of what?

"A solution, Jiang Cheng. I'm not just going to sit here and wait to die."

"What else is there to do? We have no swords, no spiritual powers, nothing. And when we die, because it's inevitable, our souls will be trapped here forever."

"And I'm trying to fucking avoid that, if you would just shut up for five fucking minutes!"

The outburst only served to make Jiang Cheng laugh, more unhinged than amused. Wei Wuxian could only glare at him in return, colder than he had wanted to. After all, it hadn't been Jiang Cheng's fault that they ended up in that situation, it had only been Wen Chao's. Or... his own. For agreeing to the surgery. If he hadn't, at least he would have had the power to stand up to that bastard. But he had to try that surgery. If it had worked...

But the way Jiang Cheng was so ready to give up, throw his life away... it angered Wei Wuxian more than anything Wen Chao could have possibly ever done.

"Even if you find a way, what are we going back to?" Jiang Cheng pressed. "I can't lead the sect anymore. You can't cultivate either. A-Jie is weak. With no Jiang leader, there is no Jiang sect. We'll be swallowed up by the Jins. Do you want to go back to a life like that? Sucking up to Jin Guangshan?"

"And it's better to die here then?! Jiang Cheng, what the hell happened to you?!"

He laughed again in reply. "I'm just accepting the reality of it all. It's you who's being ridiculous."

The fire finally extinguished, plunging the two into absolute darkness.

"Anyway, at least I get to see my parents again..."

"I won't let you die."

"As if you can do anything about it."

Jiang Cheng couldn't see it, in the dark, how Wei Wuxian closed his eyes and slowly allowed the dark energy around to absorb into his body. How it hurt, how it ate away at his wounds, seeking blood, seeping into his veins. How, as night fell, he fell asleep but was not awoken by monsters wanting to kill him.

How Wei Wuxian was slowly attempting the impossible.

[tibbinswrites]

Day 3 - Rainbows

They were everywhere. Plastered in shop windows, strung up across the street, at every booth and stall. It seemed like everyone they passed was rainbow-coloured in some kind of way. Clothing, bags, hair, even beards. Flags waved proudly above and around them. People were smiling, laughing, kissing, holding hands. Like Dean. He clenched on so tightly to Cas’ hand that he almost felt the bones grind beneath skin. He expected Cas to say something, but he didn’t, so Dean held on.

It was his first pride. At forty-one years old he was at an event that was full of young people who’d already figured themselves out. Sam (with glitter on his face) looked down at him with a soft expression.

“We can go, if it’s too much.” he said quietly. Whatever was showing on Dean’s face was apparently so pathetic that Sam didn’t have the heart to mock him.

It was too much, and Dean wanted to go. He wanted the quiet of the bunker, of the Dean-cave, where he understood how everything worked. There, neither Sam, Cas or Jack cared that he was broken. They loved him regardless, and Cas let Dean love him too, in a way that he hadn’t thought he was allowed to.

Jack, immediately distracted by the colours and sounds, rushed off towards the nearest stall, chatting animatedly with the… guy, girl? Person, person behind it, who had a multicoloured mohawk and a yellow, white, purple and black striped shirt. They looked briefly taken-aback at Jack’s overly-forward approach (and probably thousand questions), but responded just as eagerly. Jack was beaming. Eileen (with her own glittered face) followed him after a moment and Sam turned to look with a soft smile before turning back to Dean, his ‘whatever Dean needs’ face replacing it.

“I’m fine.” Dean lied, hoping that his shirt was thick enough to hide the sweat he could feel building down his back and under his arms. “Besides, Jody’s brood will be here soon, it’ll be good to see them.”

Sam paused for a moment but nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“That’s what Cas is for.” Dean muttered.

Sam’s smile was fleeting but warm. Eileen called his name and Sam turned to see his fiancee wink at him, holding a free string of condoms. Sam flushed red and went to join her, pressing a kiss to her glittery cheek and signing something back which made her laugh.

Jack was darting from stall to stall, apparently interrogating everyone, but in such a disarming, truly curious way that nobody seemed to be taking any offence.

Cas remained by Dean, letting him crush his hand, standing stock-still barely inside the cordoned off entrance.

His mouth felt dry and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t belong here. Everyone else looked so comfortable. There were couples everywhere, of all kinds, thruples too. There was even a string of six that all kept trading kisses and fond looks to each other. Even those on their own looked relaxed. Either waiting for friends or making new ones.

There were drag queens in the most flamboyant, ridiculous and amazing costumes. Huge feather boas, sequined everything and more glitter that Dean had ever owned (which was, admittedly, not much) on every exposed inch of skin.

“How about we go get a burger?” Cas said after a while, pointing at a food truck that looked a little quieter than most of the other, closer, places.

Realising that he’d spent a good long while lost in his own panic, not moving, he figured he should do something other than loiter by the entrance. This was Cas’ day too and he probably wanted to go enjoy himself with everyone else.

“Yeah,” he said, so, his feet feeling like lead, they made their way over to the truck and got a burger and bottle of water each. There were a couple of park benches set up nearby, so they sat there, next to each other, and ate. Letting go of Cas’ hand was more difficult than he’d expected. It had taken him months to get comfortable with the idea of holding Cas’ hand in public, weeks more to get comfortable with the practice. Cas winced as the pressure was finally released. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Cas shook his hand out before digging into his burger. Between mouthfuls, he went on, “We all convinced you to come here because we thought it would be good for you to break down some of the stigmas you’ve held for years about why you can’t be like one of these people,” he gestured around them, “but I don’t think any of us ever thought to ask if you were ready. This is clearly difficult for you. I’m sorry we pressured you into it. If you want to just sit here and wait for Claire and everyone to come before heading back to the bunker for dinner, that’s perfectly okay. None of us are going to judge you. This is a big experience and we’ll take it at your pace.”

“I love you.” Dean said immediately. That was his gut reaction to a lot of things Cas said, and if Dean had learned anything over the past year, it was that Cas always appreciated hearing it. Even now Cas’ eyes crinkled warm, and the edge of his mouth curled up.

“I love you too.”

They finished their burgers in silence and Dean, bolstered a little by Cas’ reassurance, began to really look around at what few booths he could see from where they sat. One of them was for struggles with high school, another was selling flags, another was about the history of Pride. He was curious about that one, he admitted. He didn’t know much about this community he was supposedly a part of. The kind of community that was so vastly different from the one he’d been raised in. A community that John had scoffed at, disrespected, with only Dean to hear him most of the time. But shifting his gaze from the stalls to the people, he had to admit that it was less overwhelmingly rainbow than he’d first thought. There were people in biker jackets and boots, people his age looking similarly nervous, without an angel of humanity to hold their hand. A teenager who looked close to tears carefully glanced around before darting into the high school booth. There were people on their own, some with an air of defiance, others completely comfortable, still others with a cloud of sadness over their heads; here, but with no family who could, or would, join them.

It was an odd thing to take comfort in, the pain of others in this place of joy and self-love, but this more than anything reminded him that they were all just people. People with their own struggles and burdens. People came to Pride anyway, either in defiance of everything that tried to tell them to disappear, or to find comfort in those with similar stories. He wondered how many people out there had fathers who forced them away from their family to try and ‘fix’ them; he wondered how many were in their forties and only just now ready to admit that maybe they weren’t the person their father had wanted them to be, that that person actually went against the values they’d been taught, and the ones they’d figured out for themselves. He was so used to feeling alone in this aspect of his life that it hadn’t even occurred to him that there would be others. He saw a man who must have been in his eighties holding his partner’s hand and brandishing a sign with fervour. Never too old to come out, and he couldn’t help but smile. He nudged Cas and pointed. “Guess that applies to you too, huh? And I think I’m slow. It took you millennia.”

Cas smiled at the men and then shook his head. “It took me millennia to find you,” he said pointedly. “Gender and sexuality was not something I ever thought about before. They don’t mean much to me. And it’s fascinating to see a celebration that both says ‘these things don’t define us’ and ‘these things are important’. It’s all about being comfortable with yourself and fighting for the world to learn to be comfortable with you too.”

“Kind of the meaning of pride, I suppose.”

“Whoever said that was a sin was sorely mistaken.”

“I mean, Pride of the seven deadly was a huge asshole.”

“Hubris is not the same as pride. I’ve always thought that sin should be renamed.”

“Take it up with Chuck,” Dean said with a grin which Cas returned.

“Thankfully, he has no more say in it than I do.”

“Let’s go look in that history booth.” Dean said suddenly, already standing and holding his hand out for Cas to take. Research was always the best first step after all. And if it was right next to the stall selling pink, purple and blue pins, then that was just pure coincidence.

[capricores]

FOURTH HOUSE: childhood observations (by mode)

* i focused more on the rougher manifestations of these placements in this post! i will make a positive manifestations version of these placements soon. also note your whole chart will influence this, and especially the individual sign of your fourth house (and planets located in the fourth), i am just grouping by mode for ease. also this is entirely based off my own research, interpretations, experiences, etc.

✨ mutable (pisces, gemini, sagittarius, virgo) fourth houses often experience childhoods in which one or both parents (or guardians) were absent. it may not be physically, it’s also often having emotionally detached and/or distant parents/guardians. mutable fourth houses usually had childhoods in which they had to learn to care for themselves and be independent at young ages; which is why as adults they generally have no problem living on their own, caring for themselves, making their own home & adjusting to change wherever they go (especially true if they also have a mutable moon and/or venus). unfortunately they also often struggle with emotional processing and expression in adulthood due to the emotional or physical unavailability of their family. it often even manifests as an attraction to toxic partners/friends who provide nothing emotionally/only drain them.

they are also likely to experience childhoods that involved a lot of moving around (cities or countries, schools, etc), which is why many mutable fourth house individuals feel as if they don’t truly have a “home”, and feel comfortable moving around freely in adulthood, and don’t have an immense need to stay stagnant in one physical place for too long (this will apply more to sagittarius and pisces). however this can also manifest in a more stressful way, feeling as if they “lost’ their childhood, or have no home nor stable place to go to when they are overwhelmed and in need of comfort. they must spend a lot of time and effort learning where they can find comfort, and how to build their own safe spaces.

the child’s intelligence was likely placed on the forefront during childhood, especially if the individual has gemini/virgo in the fourth. college/university may have been especially pressured for sagittarius fourth house individuals. you may have had a childhood in which you were encouraged to share your thoughts, ideas, opinions, etc freely and were praised for such. but on the other hand, you may have been forced down a certain path (school-wise), and had far too much stress put on you throughout childhood regarding your grades and perceived intelligence.

mutable fourth houses tend to come from “odd” situations; and usually quite unstable home environments. i’ve personally noticed mutable fourth houses are the least likely to want to talk about their past, family, childhood; because they’re sometimes ashamed of the “strangeness” of their past and the uncontrollable things that occurred in their childhood, because of their parents/family/etc.

✨ cardinal (libra, cancer, capricorn, aries) fourth houses tend to have parents/families that were over-involved in their lives; often controlling. i find that they likely had parents that put ridiculous amounts of pressure and responsibility on them from a young age. these placements didn’t get much time to be an actual child, as it’s likely they weren’t shielded from the harshness and rough realities of the world/others like they should have been. due to this, cardinal fourth house individuals tend to know exactly what they want for themselves in the future; specifically in terms of their home life, and future relationships; they usually end up developing unmatchable work ethic and boundaries as adults. however, they have to learn to embrace, accept and express their inner child; otherwise they will drown themselves in stress.

capricorn and aries fourth houses specifically were likely to experience a lot of strictness/control, and an authoritarian, sometimes aggressive, nature in their homes. they may have felt a lot of tension in their home growing up, and as if their parents/guardians were pushing them too hard in everything they did; trying to piece together their lives for them and leaving them with no say. their may have even been a lot of fighting between family members in their homes, or passive aggression, if this placement manifests harshly. this is why they tend to grow up fiercely individual and with a refusal to let anyone ever tell them what to do. they can easily hold their own regardless of the situations they’re placed in as adults.

cancer and libra fourth houses i’ve noticed had perfectionism and high standards placed extremely hard on them from a young age, especially from mother figures. although i find them the most likely of all the fourth house signs to be “babied” throughout childhood, i’ve also noticed this babying being turned into too much focus on this child. to the point where the child has so many expectations, high standards, etc., to meet due to the unrealistic projections and pressures from their parents. cancer and libra fourth houses often experience their parents trying to force certain futures onto them, that they themselves weren’t able to achieve/fulfill. in certain manifestations, this fourth house placement actually makes it so the cancer/libra fourth house individual has to be the parent to their own parents/siblings/etc. they may be overly forgiving, nurturing, and giving to their family (this will be heightened if venus or neptune are in the fourth as well).

cardinal fourth houses likely had a very perfectionist home environment and childhood, as i mentioned, and may have even been heavily pressured about their appearance, and how they come off to the public and represent their family. “image” was of huge importance throughout their past, and may have led to them being insecure adults or adults who are far too hard on themselves. it’s possible their parents had a picture perfect home/seemingly very peaceful home to the public/outsiders, that was actually a disaster/toxic environment behind the scenes. negative cardinal home environments can also leave individuals scared to initiate things and act on their own/without a push, despite this initiation being in their nature; since they were so used to being pushed by family members in various directions.

✨ fixed (leo, scorpio, taurus, aquarius) fourth houses can have their childhoods/pasts summed up in one word: intense. in true fixed fashion, their home environments were likely very strong: whether that strong is a good or bad word, depends on the manifestation of the placement. fixed signs, much like cardinals, likely experienced very controlling and sometimes aggressive (more likely for scorpio/leo) environments in the home. regardless of the sign, the parents/guardians were likely very stubborn, pushy and may have not allowed the child to have their own independent thoughts, goals, desires, ideas, etc. due to this, fourth house in a fixed sign individuals usually grow up to have very unshakable goals and opinions, and are able to hold their own in very serious and tough situations (such as loss, heartbreak, confrontation, etc). these individuals also sometimes must provide financially for themselves (and even their family) at a young age, because their family is unable to do so for them. it’s common for these fourth houses to get jobs at younger ages than most people around them generally would. i’ve also found those with fixed fourth houses (esp taurus/scorpio) had family members who tried to control and manipulate them via money/material items/finances; OR who tried to manipulate money out of them.

scorpio and aquarius fourth house placements specifically go through a lot of change and transformation during their childhood. they tend to experience immensely unstable home environments; due to the influence of uranus and pluto. it’s likely something major and traumatic may have even happened during childhood, that essentially changed their life forever (of course depending on other placements and just, life in general). they may have been the types to move around a lot during childhood, or have a lot of sudden swings in their life. the swings may have been smaller things, such as their parents/guardians being very moody, changing jobs a lot, etc; or larger things, such as famliy members losing jobs/income, sudden death, divorce of parents, etc. scorpio and aquarius fourth house individuals tend to, like mutable placements, end up “raising themselves” and/or feeling very alone and detached as a child; and as an adult (they really have to work on “building their own family” via friendships/etc).

similar to libra and cancer mentioned above, leo and taurus fourth house placements are likely raised with intense ideals and expectations from their parents; and are driven to a constant state of achieving unattainable perfection. this can result in becoming adults with huge insecurities that are far too hard on themselves. their home life throughout childhood is usually quite abundant (this abundance isn’t always good, however), or they have parents/family members with very material/money-focused mindsets. they may have frequently experienced their parents putting their careers, image, belongings, etc., before their own child(ren), leaving them feeling quite abandoned or unloved. this is why these individuals often go on to seek validation/love from others in the future for their self-esteem, especially if they have strong leo personal placements. leo and taurus fourth houses likely had huge pressure from their family to make something significant out of themselves. not necessarily a pressure to just do well in school, but to do something huge; such as become famous/widely-known, obtain scholarships/the highest grades, get a super “distinguished” or high-paying job, etc. 

[melancholyofinvisibleshores]

I really like the personal aspect of this one @bliss-bliss-bliss-bliss, but I think we are approaching this conversation from the wrong angle. You see, we both value respecting someone's identity and see new ways of expressing that as a way of language evolving to accommodate humanity's needs. To us, language is a tool capable of changing to work better and it does not confer validity to reality.

None of that applies to op, who seems convinced that reality has to fit in pre-made labels, regardless of how well they work to describe someone or not. In this worldview, labels are not just a matter of self-expression and communication, but they are ontological rules set presumably by the enlightened powers of the divine gay lords, and we have to abide by them because otherwise, some unspecified damage will occur. This also explains the "words that have been used as slurs can't be reclaimed" mindset: it is a result of giving ontological value to a term. Now, this is ridiculous of course: DON'T HAVE AN INTRINSIC ONTOLOGICAL VALUE AND THEIR MEANING CAN CHANGE. THAT IS WHAT THE POINT OF RECLAIMING IS: CHANGE THE MEANING TO EMPOWER YOURSELF AND WEAKEN THE ENEMIES.

Now, about this little thing. Ok first of all: not the meaning of narcissistic, or self-obsessive. You can feel cool about any aspect of yourself whenever you want; it just means that you are living your best life, not that you have a personality disorder, that's ableism. I also like the implication that sexuality is less important than personality... I don't even know the logic here, it just seems anti-sex prejudice bleeding into sexuality discourse and it's kind of insensitive towards people who reclaimed their sexuality and find it a defining aspect of their personhood (I heard a lot of victims of abuse talk about this but I think it applies to other experiences, as well).

Second, the fact that there is no reward is not and was never the reason behind the use of the queer label. I said it in response to the fact that you were trying to shame people into being normal, hence the comment. Let me rephrase: the "plz just be normal or you will look bad" game doesn't work on queer people, they never strived to be normal and never will, give up.

Third, queer people exist in ways that are not aligned with the canons of hetero/cisnormative society, which is already othering them or shaming (and threatening) them into submission. No one "others oneself", you find a way to love the things that made you different and "other" and destroy the shame. It's a middle finger to the pressure to conform that people make in the face of adversity, it will never be an act of passive self-flagellation. Furthermore, no one is going to think less of gays because some people call themselves queer; there are just more words to use (people can just say "I am an old school gay bear, ya know" & no one is going to kill them for it).

Fourth, I am really sorry to hear that people don't respect your identity and I find it really creepy and weird (I never met a single person that didn't stop calling someone queer when they said that they disliked it). However, this has nothing to do with the point you were making in the post (you know? the thing I was responding to?): it was specifically about other people not being normal and you dictating what other people should use as a label (& random hate on pansexual people). AND YOU PROVE MY POINT BY SAYING THAT BEING MISLABELED HURT YOU. LIKE. YOU UNDERSTAND THE PROBLEM ON AN EMOTIONAL LEVEL. NOW THINK: MAYBE QUEER PEOPLE FEEL THE SAME WAY WHEN YOU INSIST THAT THEY AREN'T WHAT THEY SAY THEY ARE. PANSEXUAL FEEL BAD WHEN YOU INSIST THAT THEY ARE BI. WHY ARE THEIR FEELINGS AND THEIR IDENTITY LESS VALUABLE THAN YOURS??? YOU STILL HAVE GIVEN NO REASON ASIDE FROM YOUR PERSONAL DISLIKE. PLEASE. THINK.

I was also going to address the reclaimed use of "bitch" and the f-slur in some context, but honestly I can't believe someone in 2023 still considers bitch primarily as a derogative against women. There are so many pop songs about being a bad bitch (in the cool sense) and so many memes about this sort of thing... Same thing about the f-slur being reclaimed in a lot of gay spaces... It just is, but whatever, I'm tired. Not gonna lose sleep knowing there is yet another anti-queer person around, y'all are the sad norm.

queer queer queer. SHUT THE FUCK UP. just say gay. just be normal and say gay i’m begging you.

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!

[g3nosarchive]

i've noticed a bunch of people are still trying to argue w me over the aave links and stuff i had in the beginning of that post, and in general still confused when i, or others say, don't use aave if you aren't black.

before i start here are some links for y'all who ignore these type of posts

a tumblr post i found that does a great job of explaining

another list of aave

powerpoint on understanding what aave is

regarding that post i linked of a twitter thread with black users calling some aave words slurs - i know it's sarcasm/ satire. no those words are not slurs (w the way tiktok and twitter ran them through the mud they might as well be) but they are aave words. if the post isn't serious enough for you, there's a good 3 links w a lot of information that could help you instead right above it. stop dming me / sending me asks on it and check the original post where i even added an explanation. the rest is going under a cut

1. if you're a foreigner (to america) i'm not expecting you to know not to use aave because you weren't born over here and you might think it's just slang or an informal way of speaking. it is not. aave is more than a dialect - it's actually considered a language and has been around for centuries. thinking of it as merely informal language is erasing the history behind it and adding to the stereotype that black people who speak differently are dumb and uneducated (and that black people who speak "white" or formally are not black enough).

grammatically, aave is correct (there's many studies and articles on this), and like any other language it has it's own rules to follow. regardless of whether you can use aave correctly or not though, now that you do know you have to make an effort to reduce/ stop your use of it. ask yourself, why do you use aave? in what situations do you use aave? what message are you trying to give by using aave? how are you trying to portray yourself by using these words?

if you are using aave to come off as aggressive, cool, hyper-masculine, to apply pressure, when you are angry or have lost control of your emotion, or when you want to scare someone, that in itself is a micro-aggression and prejudice (a step away from racism tbh).

what you are saying is that you have some deep-seated stereotype/prejudicial thought in you - black people only come off as that aggressive, threatening type of people. your anger can only be expressed as 'angry enough' when you say it like a black person does. when you speak, act, or present yourself in a way that black people do, you are taken either as a serious threat, a source of fear, or somebody who seems so cool and different and special.

do you see the problem with that train of thought? thoughts like this contribute to police brutality, medical ignorance towards the issues of black people/ doctors and doctors-to-be thinking black people can't feel pain, the belief that black women are either apathetic or angry with no in-between, the demonization of black culture, the hyper-masculinity forced onto both black men and women (especially including trans women) and a lot more.

2. the difference between using a southern-american way of speaking vs aave. many make the mistake of thinking being from the south means you are automatically using aave. that is wrong; while it seems hard to differentiate between the two, they are not the same thing and have a noticeable difference. the two do share some words between each other, like 'y'all' or 'ain't' but what you have to remember is not all aave is part of 'speaking south'.

southern accents typically draw out their words so if you're from the south, just speak like you normally do and avoid picking up terms you hear solely from black friends/ online (especially twitter or tiktok). I'm not the best on explaining this particular issue so here's this tumblr post.

in addition to this, before you start asking your black friends or your random token smart black blog, go to google. so many things could be fixed with a simple search on the internet. if you can say that you went on google, you checked articles, you checked twitter threads and hell even tumblr posts and still don't understand, that's the only time you should be asking questions (asking a minority group to educate u on issues specific to them is a micro-aggression and you shouldn't be asking anyone who has made it clear they don't like being your personal wikipedia; black people are not your reusable resource.)

3. you were born in the hood or around black people... and? you still need to make an effort to reduce your use of aave. because people think it's okay for them to talk like black people, you get this ridiculous number of non-black poc thinking they have some pass to start saying our slurs. you have people thinking aave wasn't even created by black people, that hispanic groups and nb drag queens and nb gay men created these words (when in reality, non-black gay men are notorious for putting on a blaccent or acting like black women to solidify their break from socially acceptive masculinity but otherwise to keep a sassy, harsh way of speaking. black* LGBT used their rightful terms and had it stolen, butchered, and the history behind it nearly rewritten by non-blacks. while hispanic ethnic groups and black people have been forced into the same run-down communities as each other, we do not have the same struggle, and yet some think they can be us and not actually be us, own what is ours and not even know where it came from and etc, leading to cultural appropriation from hairstyles to our words).

4. when somebody calls you out for using aave as a non-black person please don't throw in some excuse in there. just apologize, thank them for letting you know and subsequently educate yourself on any other words you might be using that's considered aave. saying it's hard to correct is unnecessary; nobody needs to know all that. just show that you understand and change your actions.

if you are non black and reading this thinking 'i don't do any of that' read it over. there is a high chance you do but you wanna pick and choose which post applies to you or not because nobody's called you out yet, or you're different.

ok to reblog, nonblack people stay silent

[leggomylino]

Roses Are Red | Bang Chan

Genre: fluff, a little (ridiculous) drama, and a whole lot of crack

Pairing: Bang Chan x princess!reader

Au: royal / fantasy au

Word Count: ~11.2k

Warning(s): some censored language…?, author rambling on and on, some underdeveloped plot what can I say this is mostly for laughs and giggles

Summary: Royal Gardener Christopher Bang only ever wanted to make music all his life, but being orphaned due to a senseless war against the Fire Nation left him at the hands of the kingdom to decide his fate. When tending to some of the many royal roses one day, he happened upon the kingdom’s princess, Y/n, and love at first sight was quite the understatement. However, what they are both unaware of is that she may already be betrothed to another…

A/n: Requested by @hanniiesuckle17​ | Masterlist linked down below and in bio!!!

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17​ / @distrikt9​ / @hanstagrams​ / @hyunsunq​ / @smolboiseavey​ / @jisungsjheekies​ / @iluvlix​ / @straycozy​ / @stay-nctzen​ (Let me know if you’d like to be added! Comment, ask, or DM me! <3)

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Howdy y’all

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in this format…

I know many of you are still waiting for me to finish light switch and let me tell you it IS still...under construction ._.”

I can’t stay loyal to one story at a time and life gets hectic ya dig?

...But I promise that EVENTUALLY MAYBE SOMETIME SOON I’ll get around to carving the second half of it

N E way let’s get this ball rolling! ->

So once upon a time in a far away land…

...Did you just roll your eyes or yawn? >:(( Don’t do that this is totally exciting

Okay so once upon a time in a far away land

There was a princess named Y/n <3 yes, that would be you, sis

She was the cream of the crop, the bees knees, the peanut butter to everyone’s jelly

...Well maybe like 90% of the jelly

There’s always gonna be haters or skeptics nothing we can do about that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway you were basically loved by almost everyone in the kingdom, for your kindness, hospitality, forthcomingness, honesty, bravery, generosity, and sophistication

Also, you were quite beautiful <3 like now teehee

But there was only one problem

Besides the fact that 10% of the jelly jar had peanut butter lodged in their brain

And that was that your father, the king, refused to let you go outside. Like ever. The only time you saw the sun and felt the wind through your hair was from your highest-Rapunzel-tower window, during required festival appearances or during emergency evacuations because THE FIRE NATION WAS ATTACKING!!!! 🔥 (╯°□°)╯🔥🔥🔥

This, however, rarely happened...er, maybe just once, but it was a false alarm because your half-brother Felix had stayed up too late playing video games (YES there is technology in this medieval au sorry not sorry) and he was just...seeing things

He’d been really stressed because his mother, your actually kind and not at all wicked stepmother, had been lowkey pressuring him to find a lovely princess consort or young fletching maiden

He didn’t necessarily have a problem with that, except for the fact that the whole thing was a huge problem that was stressing him out...marriage??? What was that again??? He kinda just wanted to run around the forest practicing archery with his friends, Dark Knight Changbin and Court Jester Jisung (read: pizza and video games)

BUT THIS WASN’T ABOUT HIM, THIS STORY IS ABOUT YOU (ง'̀-'́)ง

...Which is what I was getting at

You see

Felix was a great brother regardless of his mistake of screaming about a false Fire Nation attack and throwing you out of bed at 4 am

Besides being fun and great support/company, he also had this...friend...

A boy named Christopher Bang (♥‿♥)

He often went by Bang Chan tho, and he was ALSO your kingdom’s royal gardener

You know this because you often enjoyed watching him tend to the roses outside your tower, and occasionally would hide in the closet when you were SUPPOSED to be at violin lessons but instead dressed Felix up as your stunt double to spy while Chan watered and changed out the soil of the daffodils in your room

Daffodils were your favorite flower next to tulips and cherry blossoms and sunflowers

And 

Almost every other flower in existence that Chan had anything to do with (♥‿♥)

...What could you say, you were hopelessly in love

But he didn’t know that

And the odd thing was

He felt the very same way about you

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Can we finally get to some real-time story now?

Okay well

Channie’s pov now here y’all

Bang Chan had been the castle gardener for what felt like eons

His parents had disappeared to fight in the war with the Fire Nation and never came back…

:(((

So from a young age, before he was old enough to count, his mom and dad entrusted him to kingdom’s orphanage with care

The local nuns raised him well, and blessed him many times over

He grew up with two best friends there -> a shy boy named Han Jisung and a more confident one named Seo Changbin

The three of them were transferred to work under the kingdom after the local coming-of-age ceremony given to all children when they turn 15

And I totally didn’t steal half of that from an anime or anything...well, just a bit; 25%

So the three of them were whisked off to be given roles of their own to fulfill in order to contribute to society

Changbin was given the title of Dark Knight for his bravery and supreme combat skills

Jisung was awarded the title of Court Jester due to the fact he always made everyone laugh, despite his naturally shy and more introverted demeanor

And Bang Chan, as he preferred to be called, was granted the title of gardener...because...well, they actually denied his musician application, believe it or not

Now, before you get mad

I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!

ARE THESE GUYS FOOLS OR SOMETHING???

WHO WOULD DENY SUCH A TALENTED--

...Well, they were ignorant buffoons, unfortunately (｡•́︿•̀｡)

So he was forever stuck as a royal gardener because, he worked hard, the court knew it, and their predecessor gardener at the time was kidnapped by the Fire Nation

No one knows why and it’s not important (sorry random garden dude)

He’s okay though...we think

Anyway

So Bang Chan fit the role

And now at 23, to this day he still fit the role

It was the same mundane routine every day

W a t e r  t h e  p l a n t s

C u t  t h e  v e g e t a b l e s

S n i p  t h e  t h o r n s

T r i m  t h e  v i n e s 

C h a n g e  t h e  s o i l

U G H ! ! !

It got to be downright tedious and vexing repeating the same routine like a Zombie by Day6

Which is the song he often hummed with a lull in his eyes as he w a t e r e d and c u t and s n i p p e d and t r i m m e d

And c h a n g e d eua;bhuisahfvirs WAIT A SECOND

(Oh, we’re backing up to age 16 for a sec)

He’s outside the tallest tower s n i p p i n g the thorns on another rose bush when

He looks up to see what time of day it is and stretch his aching back

And he sees

Up in the window

A g i r l ? ? ?

……

Who is she

She’s GORGEOUS

WOW

HE HAS TO SQUINT BUT HE’S STILL GOT 20/20 VISION AND HE KNOWS A CUTE GIRL WHEN HE SEES ONE

HE’S GOT TEENAGE BOY RADAR

Wowza

She’s h o t 🥵🥵

Like the sun beating down on his face right now

Hot hot

Bruuuuuuuuuuuh--

OUCH! The thorns…

He can’t be getting lost in the waking daydream glancing out her window above him, he’s got a job to do

Flashforward to a few days later, when he makes an excuse to go back to Tower C and tend to the roses that don’t need tending to

She’s not there :((

Darn

He looks left and right before burying himself into the bushes so he can wait and see if she shows up

But this poor boy is so overworked that he falls asleep

Poor guy needed a nap anyway 😔😔

He’s having a peaceful dreamless sleep when a song enters his mind

It’s actually a song he wrote, when he applied to be a castle musician

He wakes to hearing the song above him

The sweet, sweet melody just wafting daintily through the air

It’s coming from somewhere above him

...But he’s snagged in the thorn bush and can’t get out 🗿💧

O o p s 

Rip

Maybe the bushes did need some work after all--

By the time he rips himself out and basically lost half of his shirt in the process, the song is almost over, coming to a soft decrescendo into a gentle pianissimo

That’s fancy music talk for slowly growing softer and more quiet and ending with a soft, maybe slightly breathy tone

Thankfully it’s cloudy that day so he doesn’t have to squint this time

And BOY IS HE GLAD ABOUT THAT BECAUSE GOOD GRAVY

IT’S HER AGAIN

THE LOVELY MAIDEN HE SAW TWO DAYS AGO

WHO IS SHE?!?!

“Oh, that’s Princess Y/n.”

JISUNG?!?! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM

Boy deadass just pops out of a rose bush like a weasel 🗿💧 what the what

His court jester hat has a few loose thorns in it, and it’s fallen askew to cover half of his face

“...That’s Princess Y/n?” Chan askes, totally in awe

You have such a lovely voice

And he’s bewildered as to how you know his song, seeing as it was a confidential piece he only played for a private group of royals once when auditioning

Jisung just nods, fixing his hat only to have a few of the bells bounce around and whop him in the face

One jingled all the way right into his eye…

But he carries on unaffected; must be used to it <_<

“Yeah, her dad is a total overbearing crazy-protective psycho. ...Well, maybe not psycho, but...he’s crazy protective of his daughter. He’s scared if she takes one step outside, some Fire Nation goon is gonna come popping out of a bush like Team Rocket in almost every old school pokemon episode and kidnap her like Pikachu.”

“...I thought Pikachu always got away.”

“...Oh yeah. 🤔 Bad example then.”

“You are a bad example.”

“Oh yeah?! Well you’re...a good example!”

“...Jisung that was a compliment. And thank you.”

“.........”

...Moving on

“What can you tell me about her?”

“OOOOOOO...Why? You got a crush on her, bro?”

“...I’m just...curious why the king would wanna keep her locked away in a tower like a Christian Anderson tale.”

Jisung sighs and places his hands on his hips like a lecturing mother. “Are you serious? I just told you, His Majesty is crazy overprotective of his only daughter...also, wouldn’t you wanna keep a beauty like that locked away if she were your daughter???”

Chan gives him a disgusted look. “No? Because I’m not an insecure psychopath?? Everyone deserves to be happy and free…” He glances up to the tower. “That can’t be healthy being held prisoner in a giant dungeon like that.”

“True, true...I’d still keep her locked away, though.”

“Jisung!!! Seriously?!”

“WHAT?” (ง'̀-'́)ง “I KNOW HOW TEENAGE BOYS ARE!!! THEY’RE GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS BEFORE I LET ONE OF THEIR GRUBBY LITTLE--”

Chan clamps his hand over his friend’s mouth. “I’m gonna stop you right there. Goodbye, Jisung.”

He looks at you one last time, marveling at your beauty with a hint of pity in his eyes before walking away

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You hadn’t noticed that day, seven years ago, being too lost in a daydream over whether you wanted tea or a nice iced latte with your lunch...despite how loud they were being

It was one of the few enjoyments of your day

One the few things you got to look forward to: choosing what to have for a meal

Choosing what to wear that was within your parent’s standards

Choosing whether you wanted to wile away the hours reading a book or watching Royal TV or scribbling some poorly drawn comics of what your life COULD be like were you NOT a princess with an overbearing father…

S i g h

You’re hanging upside down on your giant canopy bed in a very unladylike fashion when Felix enters the room. You must have not heard him knock, and he’s like

😳😳💧

To which you “oop-” and quickly throw yourself over in an upright position

“...Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine.” He laughs a bit and closes the door behind him. “So, whatcha up to?”

“......”

Did he have to ask you that? The question sort of burned. What were you supposed to do??? “Just...chillin.”

“Like a villain?”

“In the...millen.”

He laughed at your attempt to carry out the rhyme. “What’s a millen?”

You shrugged. He sat down at the dining table you normally ate at, crossing his feet over the table. “Well, I’ll do you one better. I came to ask if you’d like to accompany me to--”

“WHERE?!?!?!”

\(ಠAಠ)/

You’re right there in his face, shaking his shoulders before he can get another word out.

Felix, wanting to take you OUT OF THE PALACE?!??!?!?!?

THAT WAS HUGE

THIS WAS HUGE

OMGRAVY WHAT WOULD YOU WEAR?!

YOU DIDN’T EVEN CARE WHERE YOU WERE GOING, JUST THE FACT THAT YOU WERE GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE WAS ENOUGH

...You should still probably let him finish, though

Felix (@-@) <- was dizzy for a moment, but once he got his head back on straight, he explained that he’d ask your father if the two of you could go shopping together-- just for a few hours

Felix was the sweetest brother ;-; the sweetest BOY ಥ_ಥ

You were going to have so much fun browsing the shops that you’d only ever read about in novels and seen on TV

The two of you would get popcorn and ice cream and feed the pigeons and do rain dances around the park fountain

And you’d come back with so many souvenirs and nostalgic timepieces from your little journey (╥﹏╥)

It was going to be the BEST. DAY. EVER!

*insert that Spongebob episode here*

……

Or not

Because

Shortly after the two of you skipped hand-in-hand like Hansel and Gretel down to the Royal Throne room

Your father gave the two of you a big fat N O

Jerk…

His booming voice declared, “NO BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE SEEN BILLOWING ABOUT THE CITY STREETS!!! That’s like asking to be kidnapped and used as a means of war!!!”

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUASDFGHJKL;;SVBU;IABV;SIFABVIFARHVS

HE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING BUT WAR AND TAXES!!! IT WAS SO ANNOYING!!!

So, the two of you are forced back to your room alone…

And Felix comforts you and apologizes a thousand times over, words that should coming out of your father’s mouth instead

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

~LATER THAT DAY~

Well, it’s more like evening now

The sun is setting comfortably over the horizon

And Felix has just returned from his shopping trip without you 😔😔

Now before you get angry and call him a traitor, he actually had a fit and refused to go

He even came close to knocking over a table

But that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly and his mother was present

It was his mother that insisted he had to go in order to make a required public appearance for the kingdom and “hopefully find a lady that spotted his fancy” or whatever

Yeah, Felix rolled his eyes too

But he had no choice ://

If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t enjoy himself at all

He spent the whole time thinking about you and looking wistfully at the palace in the distance, to the tower you were most likely glaring wistfully back from

He was now tromping tired princely feet up the winding steps to at least give you a nice gift he’d brought back for you, and some flowers he’d gotten from a recently opened flower shop called Christopher’s Garden

A very nice not-yet-elderly couple ran the shop in honor of their lost son, who they hadn’t heard from since they returned from war

The story was quite sad and bittersweet

……

Shhh we’ll get there later it’s called foreshadowing（∩‿∩）

He’s about three-quarters of the way there when he’s suddenly ambushed by-- you guessed it-- Team Rocket!1!1

Jk it’s Jisung and Changbin

They’re the new Jessie and James of this story except they’re actually good

“Felix!!!”

“SH*T!!!”

Oop

They nearly gave him a heart attack!!! >A<

He almost beats them with the flowers, too, until he remembers last minute they’re for you

“WHAT DO YOU WANT NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”

“I CAN’T MAKE ANY PROMISES BUT WE NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING”

“WHAT IS IT”

Changbin sighs in his heavy, overzealous knightly gear. “Maybe the two of you can keep it down before you wake the princess?”

Felix shrugs. “Eh, Y/n is always up at this hour. She’s actually a night owl, but don’t tell the king that. Or her teachers.”

Bin smirks. “Noted--”

<_<

Felix has to smack him, which is a hard two second decision but you’re his sister and family comes first 😔😔 But he makes it up by giving Bin a flower, which he awkwardly accepts

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Jisung nods his jingle bell hat all over the place like a bobblehead. “Yeah, okay, so-- check this out!”

He jumps a few steps ahead so he can have room to put on a one-man show. Changbin groans and crosses his arms, while Felix eyes him curiously

“I have this friend, right? Well, we do, actually! Me and Changbin!”

The Dark Knight tilts his head. “You mean Chan?”

“YEA-- I mean, yeah!” He starts bouncing around, mining walking around the garden surrounding the palace walls. “So...I never told you this, but a few years ago...more like seven, I was going for a walk when I spotted him outside the princess’ tower! And I stopped and went ten-thousand stealth mode!”

He mimes diving into the bushes. Changbin rolls his eyes.

“He’d totally fallen asleep in the rose bushes, so I--”

“Could you maybe not talk like you’re twelve?”

“......”

Before the two can start quarreling like a couple of twelve year olds, Felix takes on a responsible air, stepping between them

“Hang on...your friend? Was loitering outside my sister’s room?”

Jisung pops his head over Changbin, which really isn’t that hard. “Yeah, he’s the royal gardener! But like, I don’t think the roses needed tending to that day...and after I revealed myself, he was asking a LOT-- well a few...questions about her. Hint hint, my boy’s in love.”

“Love?”

“Love, bro. Like the real sappy stuff.”

“...Love.”

“...Yes.”

“Your friend. Is in love with my sister.”

“...That would be what I just told you, yes.”

“...Wait. Chan as in, Bang Chan? ...OUR friend Chan?!”

“That’s him!”

“Okay okay hold on,” Changbin waves his arms through the air. “Love is a strong word...and this is Chan we’re talking about. He loves just about everybody. He’s nice and empathetic to everyone. Just last week I had to turn away two maids and a palace chef who’d gotten the same mixed signals.”

Jisung shrugs. “Yeah, well…”

“Also this was seven years ago?!”

“...Yeah…”

Changbin deadpans. “So you got me all hyped about jumping Felix for some love story that probably isn’t even real. Seven years is a long time, Jisung. He may have forgotten about her already-- NOT THAT SHE’S SOMEONE TO BE FORGOTTEN.”

He had to finish that last sentence real quick from the look Felix was giving him. The boy sighs, shifting his gifts into one arm so he can run a small hand through his wind-blown hair. “...This is kind of crazy Jisung, even for you. Why are you bringing this up now of all times?”

“...Well…”

👉👈

“I overheard a royal meeting I shouldn’t have about an hour ago...and your dad was talking about having Y/n engaged.”

“What?!?”

“To the Fire Nation king.”

“WHAT?!?!”

“People often refer to him as Zuko, for reasons unknown, but his real name is Minho.”

“.........”

With fever and a newfound energy, Felix tries bursting up the steps to your room. But unfortunately, Team Rocket stops him.

“MOVE! I have to talk to Y/n about this!!!”

“Hang on! The whole reason I brought up my homeboy in the first place was to maybe stop this suspiciously dangerous and shady deal! If Y/n has already fallen in love with someone else, maybe the king will have a change of heart!!!”

Felix groans, glaring harshly in a manner that isn’t really like him. “Han, her father keeps her locked away in a plush-tailored dungeon and refuses to let her go outside, not even on a short shopping trip with her own brother. He doesn’t want her to be seen, and he certainly doesn’t want her falling in love.”

“Well--!” Han balls his hands into fists. “I WAS TRYING OKAY?! I LIKE Y/N TOO, SHE’S A TIMEPIECE GAL WHEN I’M ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO BE WITHIN TEN FEET OF HER!!!”

“Dang…” Changbin groans. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to ask her out this weekend?”

“......” “......”

The glare he gets from both men is a definite no

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

So what are we to do about a situation like this?

Well I’m glad you asked because we’re about to find out

IRONICALLY right at that moment, you were supposed to be in a late-running math session on how taxing the economy works but 

Instead you were blissfully hidden in the closet, watching Chan plant a newly discovered breed of roses on your balcony the author forgot to mention you even had

It was an indoor balcony of sorts; fenced in with mesh and curtains to keep the bugs and trespassers out

There was a cute little garden table with comfy chairs and a small bookshelf

As well as a mini bar and even a small stereo system B))

You’re the princess sis

This was your world since you weren’t allowed to experience the real one

To explain, you had a window right next to it that you often looked out, since your balcony was more or less closed off…

Hopefully that makes sense ._.”

Alright anyhoo

So Chan is planting some gorgeous purple roses that only ever existed in Animal Crossing until now

The most lusciously soft and purpley purple that ever was and ever would be

And here’s you, hunkered down in the closet like a stalker spying on him with one eye and a slit through the cracked door

 WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN

Bang!

The door flies open!

A wild Felix appears!1!1

Uh-oh

He’s probably looking for you, but given the equally wild look on his face

He’s probably not aware of Chan’s job, coming in to tend to your plants when you’re scheduled to be absent

Wait they’re friends right

So he isn’t gonna kill him...right?!

Or does this mean he was gonna kill him that much more?!

OH NO

FELIX NO PLS

You’re holding your breath and waiting for the right moment to pounce and topple your half-brother to the floor when apprehensively

He checks his surroundings quickly before shutting the door behind him

……

What the what is this about--

“We need to talk,” Felix starts, pacing to the dining table where he usually sits. Chan freezes, blinking a few times into the roses and the air above them before turning a blank stare the prince’s way.

“Okay,” he states back, “what’s on your mind?”

“About Y/n…”

About you?

“Princess Y/n? What about?”

Yes, what about you?

“...Jisung…” he sighs. “Look, I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. Let me start by apologizing about that.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. You’re the prince, and I’m the gardener. We’re both quite busy with our—“

“Jisung told me you like Y/n.”

………

…………

……………

I’m s o r r y

WhAT WAS THAT

WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!

Okay okay hold up

Han Jisung was the court clown and notorious for pranks and lying his ass off

Surely this was just a (albeit cruel) joke…

...Right?!

…

Bang Chan’s ears are turning red

Redder than the roses outside your window

He’s biting his lip, like he wants to say something, but is trying hard to suppress said something

His hands are clenched down into the dirt…

“...Well?” asks Felix. “Is it true?”

“...It’s…”

!!!

WHAT WHAT IT’S WHAT

TELL ME FLOWER BOY WHAT IS IT

SPILL THE BEANS ALREADY

Haha get it…

Beans……

Like seeds……..

...Anyway

“......”

He nods, softly, barely. Bang Chan nods his approval at Felix’s proposed statement.

Is this even real right now…?

Is this allowed?! 😩

Instead of jumping the guy like you thought he would, Felix instead smiles, so brightly it would be enough to scare off the Fire Nation and save thousands of lives

“Oh wow. Oh f*ck. You like my sister. This is...shouldn’t I be mad right now?”

He begins to pace

“...But I’m not. I’m genuinely okay with this. Better than okay. It’s...weird.”

“Probably because Y/n may be saved from marrying Prince Hellhole of the Underworld now.”

The two of them (and you still in the closet) jump at the sound of a new voice wafting in from the ceiling. Looking up, a set of bells can be seen hanging out if the air vent

...Has that always been there?!

Oh my gravy what if Han Jisung has spied on you before

What if someone else has?!

EW

Felix scowls angrily at the vent before lifting a pen off your desk and throwing it with surprisingly good accuracy

It must have hit something because next thing you know Jisung is saying “ow!” and climbing down at the Prince’s demand

“What the hell were you doing up there?!”

“Detective work.”

“You’re banned from doing detective work anywhere near this room.”

“What about Changbin?”

“What?!”

“Oh uhhh...nothing.”

The clanking of heavy armor trying to escape travels across the ceiling…

And Felix huffs.

“CHANGBIN I KNOW THAT’S YOU.”

~~~

So I’m gonna do a mini skip right here to get the ball rolling

After Bin is dragged down and everyone (minus you) is accounted for

The four guys are sitting around your dining table, a sinister(?) plot coming to notion

“Okay,” Felix begins, “So what we know is, according to what Jisung overheard, this arms race war of sorts against the Fire Nation is coming to a rock and a hard place for both sides. And to resolve this issue, it would appear that Y/n is being offered as a bargaining chip. A wedding to unite the two kingdoms.”

…… 

Everyone is pretty silent

You included, not that you can say anything at the moment…

But just because you’re silent on the outside doesn’t mean you don’t have a million thoughts racing through your head

Let’s get to the most pressing one that’d likely catch your attention first: MARRIAGE?!?!

With whom?!?!

How dare some old geezers try and pawn you off without your permission?! To the enemy?!? To a man you didn’t even know?!?!

WHAT IF HE WAS REALLY OLD

OR GROSS

OR BOTH

OR WHAT IF--

Han suddenly has something to say

Then again when does the boy not

He lunges across the table to grasp at Chan’s hands. “PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO MARRY THE PRINCESS SO SHE WON’T BE SENT AWAY AND I CAN STOP AWKWARDLY CATCHING YOU SPYING ON HER OUTSIDE!!!”

!!!

OH UH

WHA?!

Chan’s ears are turning red again. He’s got a brow quirked like he doesn’t know what Jisung is talking about, but averts his gaze all the same in a guilty manner

Felix is tapping his fingers against his forearm in an attempt to ignore that confession

And Changbin is just sitting next to Chan half confused and half annoyed

“I- I can’t just… Jisung what you’re asking is…”

“It’s too much,” Bin cuts in. “Jisung you can’t just ask someone, much less tell them, to marry a person they have a far-longing crush on, but really know nothing about. They’ve never even spoken to each other before, I can assume, and you’re telling them to spend the rest of their lives in a commitment? That’s intense.”

Jisung pouts. “Yeah, but…!”

“What if we just faked a marriage?”

Three stunned faces (four if we’re counting you) turn eyes upon the eldest and only prince. He smiles warmly, sending a warily comforting shiver down your spine that you have trouble placing as good or bad.

“What do you mean?” Changbin asks.

“I doubt the king is going to accept Y/n’s wishes in all of this, so we can’t just have her or Chan ask to be wed. But if they’re already married…”

Jisung’s face lights up. “Then there’s nothing the king or Fire Nation fools can do about it!!! That’s BRILLIA--”

“But it would just be a ruse. We’ll have a fake license made, and I can supply the rings. I’ve got plenty of underground connections~”

You’re looking at Chan’s face to see what he thinks of all this, but unfortunately his back is to you, and Changbin is blocking 90% of your view…

You can, however, see that his ears are still a flushed scarlet, as well as the base of his neck

“Would you be okay with that?”

He jumps. Felix and the others blink expectantly. 

“...Huh?”

“...Are you okay with being my sister’s fake husband for a few hours?”

It’s gotta be the awkwardest question you’ve ever heard coming out of your brother’s mouth, but then…

“Yeah. If it’ll protect Y/n...let’s do it.”

……

It’s the first time you’ve heard him not refer to you as the princess, but rather, just yourself

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

OKAY WE’RE GONNA TRY AND START CRAMMING THINGS WITHOUT CRAMMING TOO MUCH BECAUSE HNNNNN I DON’T WANT THIS TO BE TOO LONG AND DRAWN OUT ಥ_ಥ

SO ON THAT NOTE

Meanwhile in a diabolical castle not too far away but still kinda far 

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

We’ve got an evil firelord named Zuko over here

But he’s not really evil :(( In fact he’s not evil at all!!!

His name isn’t even Zuko it’s Minho

And he’s just kinda mean is all…

Just a smidge | |

“My Lord Zuko!!!” An attendant bows, groveling at the steps to the throne

He’s some weird guy with an eyepatch

Not important but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Fire King growls, swirling a glass of something strong

“I told you that’s not my name,” he states, tossing the glass after a single gulp. Dang. Intense.

The attendant :((, covering his face like a scared manchild. “PLEASE FORGIVE ME YOUR GRACE!!!”

Minho rolls his eyes. “If I do, will you man up and give me the details on the Nation of (Your Kingdom Name Here)?”

“Oh, yes, yes! Thank you, sire!!!”

“...S u r e.” He blinks a few times, only sparing the slightest hint of a smile when one of the three cats wandering the kingdom jumps onto his lap. “Well? Get on with it.”

“Yes, sire, right away!” Patchy pulls out an enormously large scroll that should NOT have been able to fit in his pocket similar to the mechanics of Animal Crossing (seriously how is it you’re able to fit a giant whale into your pocket and like a freaking tarantula and a hive of wasps like idk about you sis but I would NOT be putting those things in my pocket-) “It would appear that the Princess of (Nation) has given her consent to marry His Royal Highness of the Tallest Order Fire Nation King Zu-- ...L-Lee Minho of the Tallest Order of the Nation of Fire and All Things Cat Related.”

Minho is nodding, a pleasant smirk on his face. Things were just going swimmingly for him. “Perfect. Just as I thought they would. Seungmin? Jeongin?”

From the shadows, two boys stepped forward. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Please plan my arrival to the Nation of (Your Nation) at once. I’d like to arrive no later than the end of the week.”

“...Sire, with all due respect…” Seungmin swallows. “That’s in two days. Normally, I’d have to send a carrier pigeon to customs since you banned technology after that one disapproving cat commercial, and as you know, your cats are constantly eating both the birds and the notes…”

“......”

“......”

Minho shrugs. “And? So? Just write a new note and buy more birds. There’s no time to waste!”

Seungmin and Jeongin share a look. Arguing against the King would be suicide, so…

“...Yes, Your Unreasonable Grace.”

“Grea-- wait what?”

Comically, they both vanish before any more words can be said.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Moving right along here

That night, after the sun has fully set and you’re getting ready to tuck yourself into bed

There’s a strange sound coming from the window…

. . .

Creepy but probably nothing

It’s just the wind, right?

You choose to ignore it and continue organizing the pillows (and dolls?) on your bed in a fashion that suits your fancy when

Tap Tap Tap

. . .

It’s either an incredible coincidence that wind can tap in such a rhythmic fashion, and not so sporadically, or…

There’s someone at the window

...No, really

SOMEONE IS OUTSIDE SIS

THERE’S A FREAKY LOOKIN’ SHADOW RIGHT THERE

On the twelfth floor tho?!

…

Should you answer it

Survey says no

Are you going to?

The stars say yes

BUT FIRST WE MUST ARM OURSELVES BC WE AREN’T TOTAL DUMDUMS 😩

You grab an ornate candlestick from your nightstand and start heading that way

Slowly, carefully, one foot at a time

The closer you get, the more prominent the shadow outside the window becomes…

It almost looks kinda like…

...A tumbleweed? A scarecrow???

……… 

You’re scared

SOMEONE COMING THIS HIGH MUST BE SKILLED AND DETERMINED AND HAS TO KNOW IT’S YOU OR MAYBE IT’S A THIEF THAT--

“Princess? Princess Y/n?”

!!!

Gasp you know that voice

It’s… …

Without a moment to lose you ditch the candlestick and unlock the hinges, tossing the windows open to…

Watch your beloved…

...Almost fall and crack his head open ._.”

Chan is laughing nervously hanging onto the windowsill with a faint pink mark on his cheek from where the window popped him

You cry out nervously and with an effort on both parts, manage to hoist him inside

Where he clichely falls on top of you 🌚🌚 Teehee 🥴

You can feel the heat rising to your face and swirling around your head that’s already been spinning with thoughts for a while now

And Chan, catching his breath over you, practically mirrors that reaction

I Am You

I see me in you--

Okay sorry

Chan laughs the whole thing off and rolls himself off like Nishinoya performing his famous Rolling Thunder, and helps you up while profusely asking if you’re alright, if you need to sit down, you should probably sit down, oh I’m so sorry Felix told me you stayed up late so--

Ah wait

“He told you that? When?”

You’re now sitting on the side of your bed, and Chan is standing a few feet away with windblown hair that could easily be mistaken for a tumbleweed through the dead of night

The fact that you’re staring at it makes him a little self conscious, but really you were just thinking about how cute he looks

“Uh, he told me a few hours ago. We were just...chatting, and um…”

……

He cuts himself off and sighs into his hands

“I’m so sorry. You probably don’t even know who I am.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I do.” You smile. “You’re the gardener. Your name is…” You blush. “Christopher Bang. You take care of the roses at the base of the tower and you planted the purple ones on my balcony today. You’re also a friend of my brother’s.”

“Wow, okay yeah.” He smiles back. Seeing him smiling at you while acknowledging the other, the faint flicker of candlelight (Felix broke your lamp during a karate stunt to make you laugh)...it’s almost too much to handle. “That would sort of explain why you let an absolute stranger into your bedroom at night.”

………

Oop

He had a point there

Blame the author sis she’s got three other WIPs rn and wanted to get this done while doing a semi-decent job (｡•́︿•̀｡)💧

“I-I just...have a strong sense of adventure,” you lied. Kinda. Reality was, you really WERE longing for a chance to explore and have just a little excitement in your life instead of the same boring gray stone walls each and every day

Lucky for you, that’s exactly what Chan was here for

The next thing you see is his hand in your face (a still-respectable distance away), offering you quite the gentlemanly smile. He managed to fix that windblown hair of his in the seconds you spent spaced out over your longing to leave this place

“Come on. I actually came here to ask if you’d like to go somewhere with me.”

~~~

A little disclosure here

Normally, you should never, EVER let someone you don’t really know into your home (much less your bedroom) late at night, and you certainly should not agree to go somewhere with them

This is just common knowledge, I know

But, for crack, time, and in the spirit of classic fairytales, I’m going to allow it to happen :)))

~~~

AND SO, Y/n chooses to defy common sense, and takes the hand of the boy she really likes (▰˘◡˘▰)

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

To make things slightly less weird and insanely unnatural, Chan gives you a note from Felix. It’s got his secret seal of approval that he only uses when addressing letters to you, one that only the two of you know about, so it’s gotta be legit and valid

🙄🙄

Just pretend it makes things A LITTLE bit better for me, okay?

“Author do you know how illogical this all is and that, like, ANYONE could figure out--”

YEAH OKAY JUST GO WITH IT PLS 😩😩

The note says:

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒴/𝓃, 𝒴𝑒𝑒𝓉! 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝓁��𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 ;) 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇...𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉, 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃...𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓂, 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉? 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒. 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒢𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓊𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓋𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒫.𝒮. - 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃, 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝒴/𝓃!

𝒜𝓁𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓃, 𝓃𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒾𝓉. 𝒴/𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝓃𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎, 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒. :)

-- 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝑜𝓀𝒶𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓍 (ℱ )

...Well, there you had it

Now, onto the date! …

WAIT DID THIS COUNT AS A DATE?!

uHHHHHH

ಥ_ಥ 💧

IDK SIS JUST GO WITH IT FOR NOW, GO GO GO!

Chan is about to take your hand and wisk you out the window like Rapunzel or some Romeo and Juliet au (hey btw??? That ain’t a bad idea someone request this from me)

He nearly forgets about the height difference and the fact that he don’t have any rope or long flowing locks to grab onto to :D so instead the two of you opt for an idea that comes to you after nearly tearing your room apart to look for rope:

THE AIR VENT!!!

You have to move some furniture around but it’s not like anyone is gonna come into your room or find out about you missing anyway

Reader: “Chan came into my room tho--”

SHHHHH THAT’S DIFFERENT IT’S CALLED PLOT CONTINUATION

Now

After getting lost for approximately ten minutes in the winding air ducts, Chan manages to get his poor sleep deprived brain together and leads you down the right path, coming to a purifying viel(?) he knocks out of the way to kick the door open to outside

AND THEN

IT’S THE MOST GLORIOUS AND MAGICAL THING

IT’S

（ つ﹏╰）

SIS IT’S OUTSIDE

IT’S THE OUTSIDE WORLD

YOU DID IT--

……

You can’t do it

Chan jumps out easily onto the grass to some East side of the palace, but you just sit there, hunkered down in the opening space of the vent

Just staring at it

The grass

The trees

The tumbleweed that is Chan’s hair blow by

It’s almost too much…

Your body won’t move. You’ve been locked away in the palace for so long now...something inside of you is telling you it’s morally wrong to change that now.

“Hey wait author I have a question”

I’m kinda in the middle of telling a semi-deep part of the story but okay sure

“If Chan and I were on the twelfth floor how is it that we made it to the--”

SHHHHH AGAIN JUST HUMOR ME AND DON’T OVERTHINK THINGS

Chan is watching you with some sort of softness in his eyes illuminated by starlight. He holds his hands out to you.

“It’s okay. If you need me to, I can carry you for as long as I’m able.”

…

But you refuse

You need to cross this bridge

And then you need to burn it 🔥

NO GOING BACK SIS

NO GOING BACK 😤😤

...Except you’re always open for an excuse to be close to Chan so 🤪💓

You jump in his arms without much of a second thought, and without thinking he spins you around, and a moment later

Both of your slippered feet hit the ground below

Soft earth enveloping your heels

Blades of grass tickling your skin

It’s so WEIRD BUT

It’s a good kind of weird

A kind of weird you’d love to get used to

Hand in hand the two of you slip off after that, out into that starry starry night that looks like a Van Gogh painting

It’s beautiful and blurred yet sharp and soft yet bright and you feel like queen of the world as you’re running through Central Park, riding on Chan’s shoulders

Dancing around the center fountain

Nearly blowing your cover when a racoon runs by

It’d be kinda bad if someone saw you, much less recognized who you were 😅

The two of you lay on the hillside, where Chan makes up stories about the stars and you smile at the sound of his voice, and the feeling of wildflowers against your cheek

You’re so enthralled that you scarcely notice when his voice trails off as he’s watching you, admiring your beauty as he often has in days gone by, only this time it’s up close and nearly surreal

The girl of his dreams lying in a bed of flowers

Not palace-tainted ones either -> wildflowers, flowers that are free to billow any way the wind takes them

And the moonlight casting perfectly angular shadows over your body

He has to get a hold of himself and tear himself away with a sharp breath

……

But he’s adding the image to a memory in his heart, that’s for sure

He takes a moment to mull over it a few more times before dusting himself off, standing, and reaching out to you. Something you also want to get used to other than being in the Great Outdoors. “Come on,” he says, “We’ve almost used up all our time, and I haven’t even been able to show you the town yet.”

SHOPPING~! (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

...Ah wait it was night time 😔 You’d have to settle for just seeing the sights and playing pretend

“We’re gonna do something called window shopping.”

“Window shopping?” You ask, taking your first steps down main street. “What’s that?”

Surprisingly, there were a few stragglers still out and about at this hour, so you had to keep your head down and wander as seamlessly as possible off to the side of the road.

“Window shopping is when you wander around a shopping district just to look at the stuff on display. You shop with your eyes and pick out things you like.”

That sounded kinda fun

Of course anything with Chan sounded like a good time to you (♥‿♥)

And so, still hand in hand, the two of you quietly walked the cobblestone streets, examining clothes and trinkets in the large glass windows of stores and commenting lightly on things you liked/disliked

And, over a short span of time, you felt a gentle shift as Chan entwined his fingers with yours

ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ ┌(˘⌣˘)ʃ

You wander the streets for a while longer, taking a left here, a right there, when after pacing a little ways down a side street connecting to a sleepy neighborhood, Chan stops quite abruptly

His arms and posture is rigid af, so it almost yanks you back a bit, and a little startled you look up to see what it is he’s gawking at

…

It’s a flower shop

And the big sign across the roof’s edge says, “Christopher’s Garden”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Christopher’s Garden was the name Chan’s parents had wanted to name the flower shop the two of them had dreamed of opening together

Chan knows this because of the letters he’d receive at the orphanage during the war

The last letter he received was when he was eleven years old; a simple “hello we miss you” update with a miniature bouquet of pressed wildflowers

Flowers he still kept in his small room at the palace, tapped to the inside of the box where all his letters are stored

Faintly, he reaches out towards the sign, like it’s the only thing around him; suddenly there is no village, no night time, and there almost isn’t a Y/n either

Not that you aren’t important…

He just simply can’t believe that…

…

This couldn’t be real, it had to be a coincidence

A cruel one, but still

A coincidence nonetheless

And he’d continue to think that had he not lowered his hand, and found the face of an older man staring back at him

A man with burn marks on his cheeks and the scars of war apparent in both his features and his eyes

He has to grip the doorway to keep himself from falling backward

For it may have been many years, but he could never forget the face of his own son; not even after time had aged him

The parental spark was just there, a father’s intuition

…… 

As if seeming to understand, Y/n lets him go

She retreats stage left, one, two paces

And watches with heartfelt joy as the two men embrace somberly beneath the moonlight.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You wanted to stay and watch

You really really did

You wanted to be that support beam for Chan, but

In a way, you also didn’t want to intrude on such an important family moment

...And you were more or less due back at midnight 🙄 Cinderella much?

You’re racing along the alleyways right now

Slippers puffing a muffled breath with each step along the pavement

Buildings casting shadows and jagged shapes of light along the way

A random cloth you borrowed from behind a grocery masking your head

You found it lying over some crates of produce; and you may or may not have borrowed a few plums for the road, too…

...You’d have someone pay them back with interest 🤷

You probably should have told Chan you were heading back, but

He needed his family, right?

This was really important to him, you could tell he obviously hadn’t seen his dad, uncle, or whoever that man was back there in a while

You could catch him up later, right?

He’d probably spend the night there and be back by morning or mid-afternoon

You’re just now reaching a fork in the road

You could keep going straight or make a slanted right venturing toward the front gate, which connects the pastures of hills (making up Central Park) to the palace

……

It would probably be better to stick the backways, but you didn’t know the area that well…

If you went back into civilization, although it was after curfew and despite your disguise, someone may still spot you

What to do what to do what to--

“So you’re the Princess of (Kingdom Name).”

!!!

Did

Did someone just--

ARE THEY TALKING TO YOU?!?

RUN?!

DO WE RUN ...

“You don’t have to be frightened.” the voice says, stepping closer. “I’m here to take you home.”

……...

🚩🚩🚩

:)))))))) 

Yes okay now we RUN 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

You make a break for it down the straight path, letting your veil fly away from your body and temporarily blind whoever’s following you

You also make good use of those plums you stole, tossing them like bombs over your shoulder

“Argh--! Dang it, sh*t, I can’t sEE--” Your pursuers flail about before shredding the cloth to bits, whipping the fruit off their faces. “AFTER HER!!!”

!!!!!!

DID HE JUST SAY--?!

HHHHHHHHHHHH

The sound of heavy metal clanging against cobblestone bounces off the space behind you as you’re pounding, scrambling, flinging yourself in a zigzag pattern in case someone is trying to snipe you

IT’S WHAT ALL THE RIDICULOUS HEROES IN MOVIES DO, OKAY?!

IT’S MORE OR LESS EFFECTIVE

But alas there are so many boxes and wheelbarrows and junk in the way...

MOVE FASTER YOU CAN HEAR THEM GAINING ON YOU

But wait who even is “them” anyway???

Do you even need to know?! It was probably some councilman your stepmother or  father pissed off

You’d seen it all on TV and read plenty of horror stories in books to know there were endless reasons why someone would be targeting you for vengeance

...And, also…

……

Blast it all

You could hear your father’s voice echoing:

“NO BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE SEEN BILLOWING ABOUT THE CITY STREETS!!! That’s like asking to be kidnapped and used as a means of war!!!”

“A means of war!!!”

“A means of war!!!”

…………………………………...g u l p 

ಥ_ಥ

YOU JUST WANTED TO HAVE A GOOD TIME OKAY

THAT’S ALL

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN 😩😩

HE SHOULD TRY SITTING ON HIS ASS DAY IN AND DAY OUT IT’S MIND-NUMBINGLY BORING 🔥🔥🔥

But boy were you getting your fill of excitement now

If you could just make it back to the palace, maybe you could use this as an excuse

Say you were kidnapped and made a grand escape

...It wasn’t a TOTAL lie…

“Oh Princess~ Princess Y/n, slow down, won’t you please?!”

LIBSDIBVISAFBILSFIL

NOT ON YOUR LIFE BUDDY 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

WE AIN’T ABOUT TO DIE

GOTTA

HURRYYYYYYY

~ t r i p ! ~

Oh-- ...

THUD

Owowowowow… (｡>︿<｡)💧

………………

……………………………

ಠ_ಠ

You slowly look up to the enemy

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ❤️ “Guess who? ...Oh, wait, we’ve never met before.”

………………..

Crap.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

The plan was going to be very simple: swoop in, rescue the princess, and take her back home to appease to the King and speed up the royal wedding of the century

Unfortunately, nothing was ever simple in the Fire Nation

That and, well, Minho had spies everywhere

He’d seen your photograph

He knew what you looked like

And when one of his minion’s squeaked saying they spotted a certain soon-to-be-and-technically-already-so engaged princess and coming-soon queen of the Fire Nation running around after hours with another man, well

He just couldn’t have that

It simply wasn’t allowed

The king had promised him your hand

And that’s exactly what he was going to get

“Tie her wrists tighter. Yes. Now a little closer to the left…”

He smiles at you from inside the back of the carriage. He was about to make this go his way faster than he could have hoped for.

He leans forward, now dressed in some ridiculous royal garb festive with plated armor and flapping ribbons, patting your knee with smooth-lined fingers that shouldn’t belong to someone ruling the Fire Nation. And he knows this, too. He was and still is the youngest king to ever hold the throne. “Don’t worry, Princess, I simply wish to escort you home. This is, however, a pleasant time for us to get acquainted. Since I will become your husband in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

To this, the Princess of (Your Castle) makes some sort of a scoffing remark beneath her cloth-covered mouth and fidgets herself away, as far back against the plush carriage interior as she can. Even beneath the pale moonlight and faint swaying torchlight outside, bobbing in the hands of soldiers, he can see the scowl of disapproval and hatred on her face.

That would have to change real’ fast. No way he was tolerating a disobedient bride for long.

A rapping comes from outside the window. Carefully, Minho opens the small glass door, pulling the curtain aside along with it. “What is it?”

Seungmin’s face appears in the open space. “We may have a problem. Two, actually.”

“Yes, yes, what are they?”

His first attendant licks his lips nervously. “Well for starters, Jeongin is going to have a mental breakdown if Doongi scratches his face one more time. Your pets--”

“My family.”

“...Your family is getting antsy being cooped up in the carriage for so long.”

A hissing can be heard in the distance, followed by Jeongin’s muffled scream. Minho sighs.

“Fine, Fine…” He glances tentatively at his soon-to-be bride. “We’ll stop at the next fork in the road and switch passengers. I will ride with the children and Jeongin can accompany Princess Y/n until we arrive.” 

“Very good, Your Majesty.”

Minho makes a face, suddenly. “...It shouldn’t be long now, yes?” ((After all, you and Chan did WALK into town.)) “What’s taking so long? How much farther?”

Seungmin looks a bit grave. “...That’s...the other thing I wished to speak to you about.”

“???”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You can hear the shouting from your new location inside a smaller (yet still quite plush and fancy) carriage that’s covered in cat fur...and a pitiful attendant with a bloodied face

“So we’ve been traveling in circles this whole TIME?!?!”

Oof

That kind of anger didn’t bode well for whoever’s plan this was

“Ahh…we’re so sorry, Your Majesty! But the guard won’t let us through! They refused to take us seriously when we proclaimed to be the Fire Nation escorting the Princess home…”

The Fire King let out a groan.

You zoom your attention on the boy before you, holding a dampened cloth of alcohol to his face and hissing as it makes contact with several wounds. Poor guy is young, and he couldn’t be too much younger than you. Give or take three to four years.

“M-mm-m, mm mm-mm mm m.”

He looks at you like you’re speaking in tongues. Which, quite frankly, you may as well be. “...What?”

“Mm mmm, m-mm-m, mm mm-mm mm m!”

“.........”

Peering left and then right, he makes sure both curtains are closed before leaning forward and pulling down the cloth over your face. You cough a bit, spitting out pieces of string and fabric and the dry taste in your mouth. “...”

“......” Jeongin seems to be admiring you in a new sort of light. It’s a bit weird, but flattering. “Um, what was it that you tried to say?”

You look him dead in the eye, which is somewhat hard to do, but your anger helps you manage. Jeongin winces backward, something twitching in his mind. “I said, if I were you, I would blow this joint.”

“.........” Jeongin glances down at his shoes, staring hard at the laces. He seems to be taking your words quite seriously, though you’d half meant them as a joke. “...I’m in no position to do such a thing. Just thinking about it is treason.”

“Treason? For having thoughts? You don’t have any mind readers in your country, do you?”

Slowly, he shakes his head no. It was kinda cute how seriously he was taking your words...and a bit sad, too. “No, we don’t dwell in psychics or anything supernatural. But the author of this story has been kinda thinking about making a supernatural au for some time now--”

“Huh?”

“Hmm?”

“.........”

A rapping comes at the carriage door. Jeongin acknowledges it with a nod. “...Never mind.” He opens the window. There, again, was Seungmin’s floating head alongside a ball of fire.

“His Majesty Pain-in-the-Ass is being difficult again. Imagine that. He wants us to make camp and then plans on playing the martyr card come tomorrow morning.”

“...He expects us to camp out in the woods?”

“That’s the order.”

Jeongin groans. He leans back in his seat, tossing the rag down in frustration. “...Maybe I really should consider running away…are you hiring, by chance?”

It was meant to be a joke. But you take it all too seriously.

“Why, yes, actually, I am.” :))))))))))

“....................”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

And so that is how you have now ended up here

In front of a roaring fire

All comfy cozy in the new fleece pajamas Jeongin and Seungmin sewed for you out of one of Minho’s extra capes and some “spare” fabrics

Sipping some freshly pressed apple juice and flipping through King Minho’s edition of Royalty Daily

Seungmin, to your left, is fashioning you a new pair of slippers that you can wear both indoors and out and will feel as if you never stepped out of bed

And Jeongin, to your right, slowly moving an electric fan around your face, in a pleasant manner that wasn’t at all distracting

It was glorious, really ٩(˘◡˘)۶

You never imagined being so relaxed in an enemy camp held hostage, even if you were a Princess…

...The only thing sour was the sour look of King Minho brooding at the other side of the fire.

“What is the meaning of this?” he hisses, eyes flitting back and forth between his two former attendants and you in-between. “Why aren’t the two of you doing your normal duties?”

“We are doing our normal duties,” Seungmin explains, snipping the thread he was working with.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Are you defying me right now?!”

Minnie scoffs. “Defying? You? Wouldn’t dream of it, Sire.”

“......” Minho dramatically rose from his seat, snatching a slipper off the boy’s lap. “Then what is the meaning of this,” he demands, shaking it about. You notice from a new angle of lighting the cute white polka dots patterned along dark pink fabric. Adorable. “Why are you...restyling my slippers?!”

Seungmin gives a reputable glare, snatching the slipper right back in the sassiest way possible, and dusts it carefully, as if it were tainted by the mere touch of another. “These are not for you, dear King. They are for My Lady, Princess Y/n.”

O-O

Now surely you can imagine, the look on Minho’s face is not a good one. “They’re… They… Y-Your whAT?!?!”

“SHHHHHHH!!!” Jeongin chimes. “Lord Zuko, you must keep your voice down! The Princess is trying to read, and she has sensitive hearing!” >:((

“.........”

(✿︶‿︶)

*Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp*

You sip that apple juice like it’s the sweetest tonic out there

And Minho, stunned, can only watch...until he throws down his foot and starts having an unroyaly absurd hissy fit

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR PRINCESS?! SHE’S MY BRIDE, AND THE HOSTAGE!!! And what do you think the two of you are doing?! What are you saying?!? Have you...are you telling me you switched sides?!?!”

“Well…”

“We aren’t telling you, we were hoping you’d get the memo by watching.”

!? “ARRRGH!!!”

._____.

The three of you watch with second-hand embarrassment, along with a couple of nearby guards, until

The King has to pause mid-fit

For a rustling in the bushes pulls his attention aside-- along with the others.

Minho seems to gain his composure surprisingly quickly. With serious glint in his eyes, he pulls his sword, in unison with the surrounding army he’d brought.

Behind you, Jeongin respectfully pulls you close, Seungmin brandishing his own blade and standing protectively before you.

You’re confused, almost, at how high the tension had magically become

You can feel Jeongin’s heartbeat against you back, and the silence amid the rustle is deafening

A single bead of sweat rolls down your neck…

And then evaporates when a field mouse screeches at the glinting of sharp metal objects and flees. 🗿💧

“Oh...false alarm…” the Fire King sighs. His army groans, reupholstering their swords and spears

And then jump in surprise at the ambush that comes after

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

I know we’re 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ flying through this story kinda fast now but just hang tight

Cause a few familiar faces had come to save the day B))

Familiar faces known as Sir Changbin, Newly-awarded Knight Jisung, and brother who loved you a little too much, Felix

The way your brother’s sword clashed with Minho’s as your new attendants hurried you into the awaiting cart was a sight to behold

And you could still hear the screams of startled men even now :(((

Luckily Felix held a philosophy unlike your father to not cause any permanent damage at all costs, so no casualties occurred; just a lot of smoke-bombing and a few cuts and bruises

Then there was Jisung, who had to hang on to the roof bc he went flying during the ambush and landed in a tree and there just wasn’t enough time to get him inside so Changbin had to snap a branch and let him fall on top...but

You know

No casualties :))))

“Are you okay?!?!” Felix is demanding, checking you face, your neck, your hands. You sigh and shake your head, which at first he takes as a no and has a small panic attack but you give him a little shove followed by a hug

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I was gone for so long...but thank you for saving me.” <3

Felix hugs you back, though a grim look resides on his face. “I’m gonna have a serious talk with Chan. I can’t believe he just left you out in the city-- or the forest-- to find your own way home in the dead of night when you’ve scarcely left the palace before!”

!!!

You jump back, startling him a bit. “Chan didn’t leave me! Please...don’t be mad at him.”

“Wha?” He lists his head. “Then what happened?”

“......” Oops. “I...I left him. I thought I could make it back on my own.”

His arms cross. “And what the heck made you think that?”

>:((((((((

At this, you almost felt a sense of defiance. Almost.

Felix didn’t think you could make it on your own?! You?!? A twenty-something year old young woman?!?!?

...Well he was right because you had absolutely no sense of direction except where the shampoo was in your royal bathroom 😔

BUT HE DIDN’T HAVE TO RUB IT IN Y’KNOW?!?!

“I--!”

“You? Yes?”

“......”

“......”

“......” Sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you...but first you have to let my friends go.”

The screen pans over to Seungmin and Jeongin, tied back to back with apples shoved in their mouths. Seungmin stared a hole into Felix’s head while Jeongin was actually making some decent progress getting a bite out of the apple to free himself...until some juice went down the wrong pipe and he started choking.

“RhUK--!!!”

“Your friends?” The prince huffs. “These are the Fire Lord’s attendants. I’ve met them on two occasions in the past. Trust me, they aren’t your...friends.”

You stamp your foot, to which everyone comically flinched. Outside, Han howled at the branches slapping him in the face and the dust in his eyes. “They work for me now, and they’re my friends!!! 😤😤 So let them go right now or I’ll push them out and roll out of here right beside them!”

“!!!”

Felix couldn’t have this, so

He gets to untying, and once freed, the four of you sit on the empty cart floor: you and your attendants on one side, Felix on the other. He exchanges a few words with Changbin up front and Han still on the roof before settling down for your story

“We should be arriving to the west gates shortly. Also, Han is fine, so don’t worry about him. Tell me everything that happened.”

You do. You start from the beginning, with Chan, and the wonderful time the two of you shared. Then you tell him about the village, and how lovely window shopping was, and the moment that all came to a halt. You explain Christopher’s Garden, the aging man who sleepily walked out the front door, the exchange that occurred between him and Chan...the way they embraced. You’d felt so happy but out of place, you decided to venture off and give them the privacy they very much deserved.

Then you come around to Minho. How you’d tried to run, but only made it so far thanks to your new mortal enemy, rocks. You’d become a hostage, and you quickly rush through the rival king’s evil(?) plan to lie his way to victory.

And, of course, you mention the proud and wise decision of his most loyal and trusted adversaries switching sides and how good you are at making friends (ღ˘⌣˘)♥ so that happened

By the time you get through the whole (short? Not really) story, the six of you have arrived at (Castle’s) West Gate.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

M E A N W H I L E

In the past tense bc the author’s random switching is a meme

A certain evil(?) king named Minho was angry

You can understand, right?

I mean, his future bride had escaped, his former friends(?) betrayed him, and he got his ass beat pretty flawlessly by some punk prince who didn’t even injure him that badly...ON PURPOSE

This was a DISASTER

A TOTAL NIGHTMARE

😭😭😭

SCREW THIS HE WAS GOING TO BE VICTORIOUS WITH CHAMPAGNE POURING OVER US AND ALL HIS FRIENDS AND HE WOULD BE GLORIOUS NO MATTER WHAT

In fact, he was following the trail with a few uninjured guards as he spoke

“Keep following the tracks,” he demanded from the window of his carriage. Doongi, Soongi, and Dori all meowed in agreement. “I want those fools hand-tied and the princess back in her station before the sun rises. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, Sir!!!” They all cried. Minho scoffed, closing the window and falling back exhaustively in his seat

He messaged his temples...since Jeongin wasn’t there to do it for him

How did this happen?

How could he lose?

How could he let you and the others just escape like that...and fall for such a subtle, dumb trick?

Also…...there was the matter of his childish behavior from before

In front of the princess, his future wife

His friends

His army

……

That really hadn’t been like him at all

He just...was so stressed lately

And exhausted

Did he mention exhausted?

What time was it, like, 1 am???

That might be fine for you, but normally this king had his ass under covers by 11 pm

He could scarcely keep his eyes open were it not for all the rocks and potholes and--

…

And the curious young man that just stumbled out into the road.

Minho leaned forward, staring through the open front window, squinting in the darkness to make out a face; was that one of the boys? Was that Seungmin, or Jeongin perhaps?

It certainly didn’t sound like it-- the sap was calling out a name, and seemed to be dressed in tattered old clothes. Probably a peasant looking for his lost sheep or dog.

But then his men pulled the carriage closer, since that previous battle had spooked all the horses away, and Minho was able to make out a name: “Y/n!!! Princess, say, “here I am!!!””

…………

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Gottem.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

To be continued...maybe.

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

[faulty-writes]

[ Happy Holidays! This piece was made for the FYEAHBNHA Secret Santa Event. I was assigned the lovely @erascrhead​ for my secret santa. So, that being said. I hope you enjoy this piece. I tried to make it fluffy and romantic. ] 

[ Upon entering his third year at UA, Tenya begins to wonder about his future and comes to the conclusion it’s not complete without you. Given you had been dating Tenya for a long while, that doesn’t shake his fear of losing you. All it would take is one simple question to ensure that wouldn’t happen. ] 

Tenya felt his throat tighten as he looked at you, his breath evaporating into the cold winter air. Light snowflakes fell from the sky which dusted the ground and powdered the surrounding trees in white. He was wearing an oversized blue sweater, which matched with the light blue scarf that was currently wrapped around his neck. He was also wearing a pair of earmuffs and his glasses were resting on the lower bridge of his nose which was tinted red. 

The lenses were slightly fogged up and his cheeks were flushed. He tightened his grip on the styrofoam cups he was currently holding, feeling the warmth of each one against his palms. He had informed you to sit on a nearby bench while he got the hot chocolate and was thankful a street light illuminated the area. Not many others were out, but you saw a few couples pass by as you waited for Tenya. Maybe it was a romantic night, you certainly felt some type of positive tension in the air. 

Tenya’s footsteps echoed as he approached you and a smile was present on his face. He noticed your reddened nose and admired the way the snowflakes stuck to your hair. As your significant other, he took pride in observing every last detail about you. Perhaps that was strange, but he could not help it. He felt as though it was his duty to provide you with such attention. You were by far the most important person in his life, given he foolishly took too long to see that. 

It was due to his own insecurities and slight paranoia regarding your feelings for him. He declined your invitation to "go out" several times until his closest friends. Izuku, Uraraka, and Shoto argued him down. He recalled how sincere of an apology he gave after your first date ended and he found himself completely taken with you. Somehow, you stole his heart away and he vowed to treasure you from that day on. For your love was a privilege he felt as though he did not deserve. 

Yet, he would never let go. For without your love, he was nothing. Not a man, not a hero. Only a foolish powerless human who allowed a diamond to slip through their fingers. You were absolutely everything to him. His life, his love, and his future. He knew he needed to treat you with the utmost care, which is why he took it upon himself to ask you on this date. From your past experiences with Tenya, you knew he put an immense amount of thought into dates. 

Whether they were simple, elegant, or something in between. This happened to be a simple date, despite the bitter cold. “Here you are,” he said as he took the seat next to you and felt his heart skip a beat when you smiled at him. Over the past two years, your relationship had grown. Quite beautifully if Tenya was being honest, however, he had been preoccupied with thinking what would occur after the two of you graduated. 

The next logical step was to allow his Pro Hero career to bloom, one of his goals, in particular, was to become the next leader of the Idaten Agency. Just as his older brother, Tensei was. However, he also wanted to ensure that he wouldn’t lose you. He understood following your dreams and accomplishing great things. But, he didn’t want separate paths to end his relationship with you and had come up with a rather desperate solution. Well, perhaps desperate wasn’t the correct word. 

But regardless, he hoped your answer would be yes. “Thank you, Tenya,” you reached over, carefully taking the hot chocolate from him. Sighing in content before blowing on it. You then carefully tried to take a sip. “Ah!” given you should have known better, you stuck your tongue out. Feeling a slight burning pain on the tip of it, “Hm? Are you alright, my love?” Tenya questioned, but you heard the slight chuckle he gave as you shook your head. “I bubrt by bongue,” you said, trying to ignore the way the snowflakes continued to fall. 

One or two managed to stick to your tongue, however, they quickly melted. Tenya placed his hot chocolate next to him on the bench and reached over to cup your face. You got lost in his eyes for a moment, they always seemed to be filled with kindness and a sense of home. Deep down you knew you loved Tenya, though like most. You also feared that you weren’t good enough for him or that he’d find someone better. But, you also knew that was foolish. 

Tenya was a gentleman and it was highly unlikely he’d break the promises he made to you, which revolved around always loving you and putting your happiness first. Taking how self-disciplined he was into account, you believed him. Though that didn’t stop your self doubts, still you reached up and laid your hand over one of his. You knew to most this looked ridiculous. Nothing more than two teenagers in love, but it was the kind of love you’d never trade. 

“Allow me to heal your injured tongue,” he teased as he leaned forward, “Mm,” your breath hitched when he brushed his tongue against yours and slowly pressed your lips together. Tenya was always passionate about such things, the only difference was that he did not ask for consent. At the beginning of your relationship, everything always seemed to be a question. He even asked permission to hold your hand which in a way was sweet. 

Still, you were happier now that he took the initiative, and yet, he was still a tad cautious. Tenya kept a secure hold on your face and you slowly melted into the kiss. You reached up and ran your free hand over his shoulder before threading it through the back of his hair. You were a little thankful Tenya had grown his hair out, though you did like the texture of his undercut. It was much more fun taking a handful and tugging it, at times Tenya shared his dislike toward such action. 

But that never stopped you from continuing to do it. A shiver ran through you as Tenya’s hands lowered, running over your neck before he pulled away from the kiss. You could feel the cold air against your moist lips and momentarily turned your head when you noticed the snow was coming down harder. Tenya’s hands left your person and he too, glanced up, “I suppose we should leave soon, I hope you are not too cold. Please, allow me to keep you warm,” Tenya insisted as he inched closer, you could feel his thigh press against yours and a comforting arm wrap around your shoulders. 

You smiled and took a sip of your hot chocolate, luckily it didn’t burn your tongue this time. Still, you leaned close and nuzzled your head against Tenya’s chest, you could feel the tip of his nose bury itself into your hair. Tenya loved your scent, it brought him a sense of comfort. However, his thoughts were broken when he heard you sniffle and you reached up to wipe your nose. Tenya’s posture stiffened, "My love, do...do you require a tissue?" he knew it would be rude to state such out loud, but he'd rather not have any bodily fluids including mucus on his person. 

Then again, perhaps it was his fault. He felt somewhat guilty convincing you to go for a walk in the cold. Despite that, he thought it would make a wonderful set up for him to pop the question. You sniffled and shook your head. "No...I'm fine, Tenya. Thank you, my nose is just running from the cold. I'm sure the hot chocolate will fix it," you took another sip, finding it rather soothing as it landed in your stomach. Giving you a warm fuzzy feeling but that could also be caused by being so close to Tenya. 

“Ah, I see. If that is the case, I trust you are comfortable,” he said, gently running his hand up and down your back. “I am,” you couldn’t help but chuckle, once more you were reminded how much Tenya cared about your well-being. “You don’t have to ask that you know,” then again Tenya always seemed to be asking some type of question. At times it could get annoying, but you knew he meant well. “Apologies, I do not wish to be so repetitive in my endeavors,” he replied and you tilted your head, a pout present on your face. 

“Tenya even if you repeat yourself from time to time, it isn’t annoying or anything. Yeah, you ask a lot of questions. But, that’s what I love about you. Always asking questions, seeking knowledge, always concerned about my well-being. You’re so sweet,” you said with a somewhat dreamy expression as you looked into his eyes. His glasses had a few flakes stuck to them, which was an adorable sight. You smiled and leaned forward, pecking those soft lips of his. 

“I love you, Tenya,” you spoke softly, enjoying the way your frosty breath evaporated into the air along with Tenya’s. He reached over, allowing his hand to brush through your hair before delicately cupping the side of your cheek. “I love you too, Y/n,” he spoke sincerely before glancing to the side, something you found odd considering Tenya always looked people in the eye when speaking to them.

He was very well trained in manners and it was attractive, but his sudden odd behavior? Not so much. “Is something wrong?” you questioned, pressing your hand against his chest as you leaned away from him. Tenya was still glancing away and you frowned before placing your hot chocolate on the ground by your feet. You gasped when Tenya grabbed your free hand, his touch was urgent and judging by the pressure he applied. You knew something was either wrong or he needed to tell you something.

Either way, his sudden action made you jump. “Tenya?” you leaned back up, your eyebrows lowered in concern as you looked at him. He turned his body to better face you and reached up, clasping his other hand over yours. This concerned you all the more and you shifted your eyes to your now sandwiched hand before looking at Tenya once more.

“Y/n, I must confess there has been a lingering question preoccupying my mind,” your heart sank with fear when you heard those words, the first thought that came to mind was the possibility of Tenya asking if you were truly happy in your relationship or something relating to the two of you going your separate ways. The thought of losing Tenya was terrifying and you opened your mouth to speak but he quickly pressed a finger to your lips. 

That did nothing for your fear which only increased when you saw the serious expression on his face. A lump formed in your throat as he lowered his finger. “I...have been lost in finding the courage to ask you, but as a hero. I know I must push fear aside and embrace the consequences of doing so,” you raised your eyebrow, “W-What?” Tenya glanced down and you took notice of how he latched onto his bottom lip.

Yet another uncharacteristic trait, “Tenya...what’s going on?” you reached back, holding onto the bench with your free hand. Effectively creating distance between Tenya and yourself. However, he still had hold of your other hand. “Please, do not be afraid. I didn't mean to scare you, I...must confess I am feeling rather nervous myself,” he explained which further confused you. “Tenya I don’t understand,” you said as you shook your head, “What is this question, and what’s going on with you?” Tenya chuckled and you felt a tinge of anger fill you, what was so humorous about this situation?

“Perhaps I will better explain myself this way,” he glanced down, taking note of the snow that covered the ground. It looked to be about an inch thick and Tenya reached up to remove his scarf. He then folded it in half twice and placed it on the ground in front of you. “Uh…” your eyes widened as he then used his scarf as a cushion to kneel in front of you and the sight alone was incredible. Especially the snowflakes that peppered his hair and stuck to his delicate eyelashes. 

His cheeks were still colored red and you watched his breath continue to evaporate as he spoke, “Y/n, my love. I am quite aware I may be doing this in an untraditional manner. However, I am most certain you know of my feelings for you,” he said as he reached out to take your hand again, you glanced down and threaded your fingers together. You then shifted your gaze back to him.

“You are my most treasured above all, I hold you in such high regard. I only wish to protect and love you with all that I am capable of. I wish to be the ideal image of a strong male whom you can rely on and know you have made the correct choice in spending your life with,” you held your breath, your gaze shifting from his face to that hand that slipped inside his pocket.

“I have been thinking about the events that will take place after we graduate and proceed to follow our dreams to become Pro Heroes. However, I am afraid I cannot accept my future beyond graduation if you are not a part of it. Forgive my selfishness, but I want you with me always,” you gasped as he pulled out a small blue box, “Tenya,” you whispered his name as your attention focused on the box and that silver ring that rested inside.

It almost seemed as though the falling snow made it sparkle, “Whether my hero career blooms to allow fame and fortune or backfires into dust, I do not care. As long as you are by my side, for the lingering question plaguing my mind is...would you do me the honor of taking my hand in marriage?” you swallowed and the cold air irritated your moist eyes.

You knew others might view this as a mistake, getting engaged during your third year. You hadn't expected this, but Tenya was proving he could still be full of surprises. Your mind was racing, still trying to process Tenya's question. He truly wanted to marry you and had already put an immense amount of thought into the decision. Part of you wondered if he was asking because he was too afraid of losing you. Given you would never stray and it's not as though you'd be getting married right away.

Although, marrying him and becoming a part of the Iida family would be a dream come true. Though you were a little worried about living up to the proud lineage Tenya always spoke about. But, you had met his mother countless times. His brother, Tensei as well. They were welcoming and even if they disapproved of you, it was highly unlikely Tenya would end your relationship. You watched Tenya’s expression drop and realized you had been quiet. "I-I’m sorry, I was thinking…" you said, slightly embarrassed that you had let your thoughts consume you.

"Thinking...?" Tenya repeated as his chest tighten. He was afraid this would happen, perhaps he came off too strong. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to-'' you held your hands up, "No!" you exclaimed before realizing you had raised your voice. "Sorry, I...Tenya…" you squeezed his hand, despite your fingers being numb from the cold, "Yes, I'll marry you,” a cry left his lips when you tackled him, luckily Tenya’s reflexes were fast and he quickly reached behind him.

His hand slipped some as he pressed it against the snowy ground. “My love, please be careful! I do not wish for you to get hurt. The snow is-'' you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, effectively silencing him with your lips. His words became muffled and you could feel his glasses being pushed up. The cold metal frame pressed against your cheek and you pulled away with a soft pant. Keeping one hand on Tenya’s cheek which felt warm due to your actions, it was almost adorable how easily flushed he became.

“Quite the troublemaker, aren’t you?” he chuckled before standing on his feet once more. “Be careful,” he warned, he kept a secure hold on your hand as he helped you up. “There, now I believe it’s not a proper agreement until I place the ring onto your finger,” you reached up to wipe your eyes before Tenya took your hand, it was no surprise he knew the correct ring size. It slipped over your finger with ease and you took a moment to admire the way it shined before looking back to Tenya.

You smiled and placed your hands on his shoulders, “Thank you, Tenya,” you said and he shook his head. “You do not have to thank me,” he replied and slowly tilted his head up. Watching the snow continue to fall. “Perhaps we should return to the dormitory and share the good news with our dear friends,” he suggested as he reached up to adjust his glasses. His arms found their way around your waist and silence filled the air as you two stood there surrounded by snow. A sigh then escaped Tenya which caught your attention, “Hm?” you blinked as he lowered his head and reached to grab your hands.

“I do hope you aren’t too cold,” he said before looking past you, he dropped your hands and walked over to the bench. You watched as he leaned over to grab your cup of hot chocolate. “I do not wish for you to waste it,” he said and you lightly chuckled as you took the cup. Noticing how luke-warm it was, though it made sense considering it was covered in a thin layer of snow. He reached over to take his hot chocolate as well, though he had yet to take a sip from it. Your heart was still racing as Tenya walked back over to you and took your hand once more.

You wondered if you’d get used to the added weight of the ring. “How do you think the others will react?” you questioned and Tenya took a moment to answer, “I am almost certain they will support us, however, if they disagree with our decision. It will not shake or dismiss my choice,” he said and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the serious tone of his voice. It made your heart soar knowing the lengths Tenya would go for you. When he began to walk, you quickly followed his lead.

“Oh, wait!” you suddenly cried out and pulled your hand away from his. He looked concerned for a moment as you ran back to the bench and leaned over to pick something off the ground. “You forgot your scarf,” you pointed out as you held it flat in your palm, Tenya’s eyes widened. It wasn’t like him to forget...well anything, but the positive response from you had caused his mind to slip. “Ah, yes. Thank you, I believe I will be needing this,” he took it, though he didn’t wrap it around his neck.

More than likely because it had been on the ground and was therefore considered dirty. He smiled as he reached up to cup your cheek, brushing it with his thumb. “What would I do without you,” he stepped closer, his eyes tracing your face before settling on your lips and he slowly bent down. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. Sighing in content when your fiance’s lips pressed against yours.

[ninbayphua-moyan]

Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds

Thunderous grey clouds hung heavy in the sky as I made my way towards the lecture hall. My body ached with a bone-deep exhaustion and each leaden step I took felt heavier than the last. I stopped, wanting to turn back, but time and time again, my body refused to obey as my legs carried me towards my destination.

          Half an hour later, I found myself standing outside the empty lecture hall despite the countless hesitations along the way. Sighing, I sank to the floor and closed my eyes, too tired to remain upright. That’s what university does to you. It sucks out your soul, your passion, and your youth, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk of a human being.

           A familiar voice calling my name pricked my hazy, sleep deprived brain and I cracked open my heavy eyelids. My facial muscles moved like clockwork, automatically forming a smile to greet my friend.

           “You look like a corpse!” Chu Ying exclaimed worriedly at the sight of the heavy dark circles beneath my vacant eyes.

           “Haven’t been getting much sleep this week…” I replied with a nonchalant shrug as I quickly scrunched up my eyes until they turned into little crescents of laughter, “assignments due soon.”

           Seemingly convinced by my explanation, she gave me a look of sympathetic encouragement and left. The second no one was looking, I let the smile fall. Amazing what a simple smile could conceal. You could probably murder someone, smile, plead innocent and everyone would believe you. Sighing softly under my breath, I grabbed my bag and joined the gathering crowd of students as they trickled into the dimly lit lecture theatre.

           My laptop sat quietly on the desk, an empty word document laid open on its illuminated screen as the lecturer’s monotonous voiced droned on and on in the background. I should have been taking down notes but my mind was too preoccupied with my issues with the Undergraduate Office to focus on what the lecturer was saying.

           A rhythmic vibration drew my attention towards the phone sitting on my lap. Glancing at the pop-up notification, a wave of anxiety and hope surged through my body as I registered who the sender was – the Undergraduate‘s Office. Quickly, I pulled up the email and immediately felt my heart sinking after reading the first line.

          All seminar groups are full and we cannot move students.

          Lies.

          Another notification, this time, from my personal tutor.

          It’s only week 3, relax.

          Disappointment. Betrayal. Frustration. Anger. I clenched my trembling hands into fists as the tsunami of emotions threatened to explode and spill out of my shaking body. Half of me wanted to storm over to the Undergraduate’s office and let loose the unbridled rage coursing through my veins at the unfair treatment. The other half of me wanted to lash out at my tutor’s condescending advice. My body trembled at the barely, ever so barely contained anger.

          Sixteen thousand pounds. That would be eighty-four thousand two hundred and seventy-nine ringgit each year in school fees. Fees which didn’t even include the amount I needed to spend in order to buy the books required for the modules. Sixteen thousand pounds per year just to get an education, an education that I wasn’t even getting at this point and her advice for me was to relax? How could I when my parents worked their entire youth away, saving every cent just so they could send me, all the way to Britain to get a proper education! Did they even know what the stakes of sending me abroad to study was?!

          My father’s average yearly income is twenty-four thousand ringgits, barely twenty-eight percent of my yearly school fees. Was it that unreasonable to want to be in a class that will allow me to learn and improve after paying for that much money out of my parents’ own pocket?! Why would anyone in their right mind come half way across the globe, paying that ridiculous amount of money, and being so far away from family and home for years, just to fool around? If that had been my intention, I wouldn’t even have bothered going to university in the first place, let alone coming all the way to Cardiff!

          University will be fun they said. You’ll meet open-minded people passionate about learning they said. Hah! That’s the biggest misconception if there ever was one. First of all, the university doesn’t care about whether you actually learn anything so long as you're paying the fees. The majority of lecturers or seminar leaders will only do the most minimal amount of work required and by that, I mean three hundred words of prose only per weekly assignment. What kind of creative work could anyone produce under three hundred words? In prose! Some don’t even bother with critical commentary which is just as essential as the creative pieces. Not only does the lack of practice in writing critical commentaries and limited word count for the creative pieces inhibit students from developing any work of significance, it also underprepares students for the three-thousand-word portfolio due at the end of the semester.

          Secondly, British universities are also especially discriminatory towards outsiders or people of colour, often treating minorities and international students with hostility or disregard. I’ve experienced this discrimination first hand upon requesting a seminar change. Despite having emailed the Undergraduate Office at the same time with the exact same reasons, I was denied the change whilst my British classmate was immediately allowed to swap seminars. The office even went so far as to lie about the class being full even though I was told by the professor leading that very seminar that it wasn’t. So much for the integrity of the institution.

          At the end of the day, international students are nothing but cash cows to British universities.[1] Not only do they have to pay double of what British students pay in terms of fees, they also have to deal with the discriminations that come alongside being an outsider. I understood that in this day and age, education was a business, and that the university itself was, essentially, a business, but doesn’t actual passion for learning still count for something? Or was I wrong in believing in that as well? Oh, so naïve, so very naïve!

          Old memories started to surface amongst the turmoil of emotions. My father and his worn-out clothes, refusing each time to buy new ones for himself just to save a little more money. My mother mending them as best she could whilst we slept, never once complaining. Images of my father’s prematurely greying hair and bloodshot eyes as he worked his health away to provide for his children’s future. My mother’s back bent low, labouring away at some project or another in order to make ends meet. Yet, they never once showed us how tired or how tough things were. There was always enough food on the table and they always had a smile on their faces around us. Sometimes, I noticed that they would eat a lot less than usual but whenever I asked, they merely joked and said they were trying to lose weight. They could have enjoyed their youth, their honeymoon, but they decided to save it all, sacrificing their health and comfort just to ensure mine by sending me here.

          I remember the times where they would secretly check their wallets whenever I begged them to buy me a book. Oh, how those very books painted and fuelled my illusions of Britain’s perfection. If only I had known the reality of it all before applying to study here. But it’s too late for regrets now.

          A sharp stinging pricked the back of my eyes, tears threatening to fall as my body shook with suppressed, uncontrollable rage. Maybe if I was a little braver…maybe if I fought a little harder…maybe if I confronted them a bit more…maybe…maybe…maybe…

          Then as quickly as they appeared, the tsunami of emotions faded away, leaving behind an empty husk. My clenched fists loosen and fell limply at my sides as a quiet, bitter laugh escaped my lips. Nothing was going to change. No matter how hard I fought, the end results will remain the same so what’s the point of even trying in the first place?

          As the cold hard reality of the situation finally presented itself, I slumped against the chair, my empty laptop screen staring blankly back at me. Resignation dragged me deeper and deeper into the murky depths of my mind. I was drowning. No one knew and no one cared. But that’s fine. The ending remains the same regardless. Always the same…

          The sound of rustling papers and loud chatter momentarily draws me out of the murky waters. Realising that the lecture had ended, I gathered my things and shuffled towards the exit, my mind returning once more to the depths of the void. Outside, the rain was pouring. I plodded down the streets drenched to the bone as my legs moved mechanically towards my flat. A stifling numbness engulfed my mind as I trudged on in silence, the howling wind battering my shivering, rain-soaked body from all sides. Rounding the corner, I pulled out a key-card and entered the cramped grey flat. Out of sheer habit, I grabbed the letters from my letterbox and stuffed them into my coat pocket before heading upstairs.

           Entering the dingy room, I dropped my backpack on the bed and sank to the floor. Hugging my knees to my chest, I stared vacantly at the bleak wall. My phone rang insistently in my pocket but I didn’t answer, too tired to move. The crushing weight on my lungs forced out whatever little oxygen I managed to draw, making each breath a struggle. The clamouring voices in my mind grew louder and louder, growing in intensity yet forcefully contained, like built-up pressure without release on the brink of implosion.

You’re useless

          I’m…not…

You can’t even stand up for yourself or fight for what you believe is right

          Yes I can! And I’m trying! I’ve –

You’re a disappointment to your parents and your family

          I’m not! I swear! I –

You’ll never amount up to anything

          That’s not true! I –

You’re pathetic

          No –

Nothing but a Failure

          Stop saying –

Human garbage

          Please! Just –

Waste of space

           “SHUT UP!”

           Silence. Nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing in the darkness.

The world would be better off without you

          I don’t know how long I had stayed there on the floor but by the time I came around, my dripping wet clothes were nearly dry. The chaotic calamity within had finally died down and I was filled with an eerie calmness. A deafening silence blanketed the air, pierced only by the hypnotic rumbling of trains across tracks. Ah yes…the railway…my ticket to solving everything…just two blocks away…and it’ll all be over…permanently…

          Forcing my lethargic limbs to move, I wobbled onto my feet and stumbled towards the door. A tiny parcel fell out of my pocket and the handwriting on it made me paused. It was my mother’s. Even under the dimness of the moonlight trickling in, there was no mistaking that immaculately cursive hand.

          Letting go of the door handle, I kneeled down to pick up the neatly wrapped package. Then, slowly, as if afraid it would fall apart at the slightest touch, I began unwrapping the parcel. Upon opening the box, tears welled at the corner of my eyes. Six little cylindrical bundles of haw flakes were carefully packed within, each attached to a tightly rolled up strip of paper. Gently untying the scrolls from the sweets, I began reading them one at a time.

          Jie![2] I got you your favourite sweets! Wanted to buy you more of them but Ma said there wasn’t enough space in the box. Don’t worry, I’ll send you a big box of them once I’ve saved up enough money.

– Di[3]

          My heart ached as I thought about how much it must have costed for them to ship the parcel all the way from Penang to Britain. And with the little amount of pocket money…it must have taken Di-Di months of saving to be able to afford buying that one bundle of sweets…

          Jie, just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you have to hold everything in on your own y’know? It’s okay to rely on others a bit more from time to time. Enjoy the sweets you idiot, you’re crazy about those haw flakes. No idea why you like them either, they aren’t even that nice.

– Mei[4]

          Tears pricked the back of my eyes as my sister’s grumpy voice echoed in my ears. I could even see the disbelieving eye roll at my odd preferences in sweets after the last sentence. How I’ve missed our senseless squabbles and late-night chats….

          A-Yun, being an international student in the UK isn’t always the easiest thing, especially when you’re a minority there. You’ve already taken the necessary steps and have done all you can in that situation. Remember, it’s the end result and not the process that defines a victory. Remember what Sun Tzu mentioned in The Art of War? ‘The most important rule to victory is to know when to pick your fights and how to fight it’. Not all battles need to be fought to win the war. Never forget our family values and never lose sight of your goal. Don’t worry about finances, let me handle that. Just focus on your studies and aim for that first-class honours. The best revenge is to succeed despite their efforts to stop you. Continue to work hard and don’t give up. Know that regardless of the outcome, your Ma and I are proud of you and that we love you very, very much.

– Ba[5]

           A sob catches at the back of my throat as tears flowed freely down my cheeks. Acute pangs of longing weighed heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

          A-Yun[6] ah, if it ever becomes too much to bear at Cardiff, come home. Ma will make you your favourite dishes. I know you want to do well but don’t overwork yourself. Remember to get enough rest and try to change your bad habit of skipping meals. Two boiled eggs alone don’t count as a proper meal either!

– Ma[7]           

          A sheepish giggle escaped my lips despite the tears, Ma’s exasperated voice ringing in my ears. I could almost picture the look of indignation on her face as she judges my terrible meal choices before proceeding to fill my bowl with steamy boiled dumplings.

          Ah…Ma’s famous boiled dumplings…the saltiness of minced pork marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil…the refreshing sweetness of spring onions and carrots contrasting the pork’s saltiness…flecks of finely chopped hei-mu-er adding a chewy texture to the tender meat whilst thin sheets of delicately wrapped dough encapsulated it all…the slight bitterness of the herbal broth complementing the savoury dumplings…[8] My stomach growled in protest as I smiled fondly at the memory.

          Wiping away the remaining tears, I unrolled the last strip of paper. Elegant brushstrokes painted familiar characters in horizontal lines. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled sitting on A-Gong’s [9] lap in the garden as kid, watching him practice calligraphy. I remembered how he used to read his poems aloud as I gaze at his hands guiding the bamboo brush across the ivory sheet, entranced by its flowing movements. Each word written was like a piece of art, each stroke of ink painting a meaning of its own.

Tranquil night’s darkness, the moon shines bright, From the mud the lotus rises, its petals pure despite. Vermillion red blossom like wildly raging flames; Elegant, virtuous, delicate, yet exquisitely untamed. The wise once said that adversity yields flair, An upright heart, oblique shadows don’t scare. Dripping water with time wears the stubborn stone, Sturdy wood too can be cut with rope saws alone! [10]

          A strange tranquility wrapped itself around me as I read the poem, A-Gong’s calm and mellow voice resonating in my ears. It was almost as if he was standing right before me with the usual toothless smile and twinkling eyes on his wizen face. Tenderly cradling the small box of sweets, a faint smile graced my lips. Their vermillion red and gold wrappings shone with a certain warmth under the soft light of the moon. Gently unwrapping one of the thumb-size bundles with shaking hands, I popped a disk-like piece into my mouth.         

          Immediately, a wave of warmth spread throughout my cold and hollowed body, almost as if it was infused with the life-giving heat of home. The familiar tart sweetness of the hawthorn berries cleared the heavy fog that clouded my mind and for the first time in a long while, I felt energy slowly seeping back into my worn-out soul, reigniting the snuffed-out fire within. Strange how something so small, barely the size of my thumb, could bring so much comfort and hope. That night, the moon shone a little brighter than usual, and the normally barren sky seemed to be exploding with billions of twinkling stars.

NOTES

[1] Alina Schartner & Yoonjoo Cho, ‘“Empty signifiers” and “dreamy ideals”: perceptions of the “international university” among higher education students and staff at a British university’, Higher Education, 74 (2017), 455-472

[2] ‘Jie’ means older sister in Chinese

[3] 'Di’ means younger brother in Chinese

[4] 'Mei’ means younger sister in Chinese

[5] ‘Ba’ means father in Chinese

[6] ‘Yun’ is written as ‘云’ meaning ‘cloud’

[7] 'Ma’ means mother in Chinese

[8] Hei-mu-er is the Mandarin term for black cloud ear fungus, a type of mushroom often used in Chinese cuisines.

[9] ‘A-Gong’ means grandfather in Chinese (specifically, the Hainanese pronounciation)

[10] This is a self written and self translated poem I wrote. The original Chinese version can be found here.

[11] ‘Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds’ is a play on 守得云开见月明 meaning the moon will shine brightly again when the clouds part, and 麻雀虽小五脏俱全 meaning though a sparrow is small, it has all the vital organs.

Author's Notes:

So this is one of my earlier prose pieces from uni (all the way back from first year lol). I don’t usually post prose? Not prose of this length at least. Anyways, I thought I’d take the leap and try posting them online now since I decided to start doing that for my poetry pieces? The rest of my prose pieces throughout uni somehow ended up becoming interlinked with several recurring characters though there are some inconsistencies since they were initially intended as stand-alone pieces rather than a series of somewhat loosely linked short stories. I’ll be posting them in story timeline sequence (or at least as closely to a sequence as I can since I didn’t exactly plan out the timeline of these pieces either) rather than in the sequence it was written in so there might be a slight fluctuation in writing style cuz they do kinda change over the years? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 1~ 

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 

Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.

[timep3tals]

Tony embarrassing Peter at school with the nicknames and bringing him lunch ect??? 💙❤💙

Sometimes, being half-spider was really inconvenient. 

For one, Peter was acutely aware of bugs. Specifically flies. It was single-handedly the most frustrating part of being who he was, now, because Peter didn’t want to be aware of flies, he just was. His whole body hummed with focus when one strayed too close to him, and it’s especially irritating when he has bigger things to focus on (i.e., a gun being pointed at him) and a fly buzzes past.

Once he’d nearly gotten shot for it and had to explain to his incredulous mentor that it was the fly’s fault, not his. Tony still chewed him out, but there was this look on his face that suggested he thought it was more hilarious than anything.

(He was still pissed about Peter almost getting shot, though, don’t misunderstand.)

Regardless, there were downsides, like the super-strength. The idea of super-strength is cool in theory, but Peter had to be constantly aware of how much pressure he applied. The longer he was Spider-Man, the more he was able to push it to the back of his mind, but he’s still accidentally lost control too many times and snapped pens, door handles, and nearly this one guy’s hand. So, he still donated a large part of his mind to monitoring his strength.

Probably the most annoying part of being half-spider, however, was the ridiculous appetite.

Peter could eat May out of their apartment, if he allowed himself to eat every meal until he was content. Of course he didn’t, because it never really occurred to him he wasn’t eating enough. He’d already doubled his meal intake! But his super-appetite had caused some issues recently. Namely, Peter going into hypoglycemic shock because his sugar had dropped so fast, so rapidly, he nearly killed himself on patrol by fainting half-swing.

Tony had been frantic when he showed up on scene, and the video of Tony shoving crowds of people out of the way to get to Peter was still circulating around the internet. May cried when she realized he’d been, however unintentionally, starving himself.

He’s totally cool now, though! One hundred percent fine and dandy, though if you asked May or Tony, they wouldn’t tend to agree. Tony had really taken this incident to heart, and decided therein it was his sole duty to make sure Peter felt perpetually full.

It was nice to be well fed, of course, but sometimes it was, well, absolutely mortifying.

Today, for example. Peter had forgotten his lunch, accidentally, of course; he’d over-slept from studying, and forgot to snag his specially-made lunch Tony had put together for him, since Peter had spent the night at the compound. Once he’d realized, he reasoned he could eat a few more of his protein bars than normal and be totally fine. It was one lunch, and the whole fainting episode had been nearly eight months ago.

Tony disagreed.

Not ten minutes into lunch, where Peter had grabbed a tray and was munching on sad, soggy apple slices, the doors to the cafeteria swung open. Normally this didn’t even cause anyone to blink, but a hush fell over the room so fast Peter’s ears rang in the sudden quiet.

He looked up, MJ’s in-depth analysis of Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead tapering off with the rest of the voices, and felt his entire face go a snowy white.

Tony Stark was standing at the entrance of the cafeteria in all his five-foot-nine glory with Peter’s insulated, Avengers lunchbox in hand. Tony’s sunglasses were permanently in place, despite his being inside, but Peter could still see his eyes searching through the waves of faces. Peter started to slouch down in his chair, but the frozen shock on the student body persisted, and the movement had the opposite effect of catching Tony’s sharp eye.

“Peter Parker,” Tony said, voice echoing through the silent room, and Peter felt tears start to prick and burn. Why him? “You forgot your lunch.”

“Oh my god,” Peter whispered. 

For someone who was so painfully out of place, Tony’s confidence didn’t waver for a second as he strode over to Peter’s table. The eyes of everyone in the cafeteria followed him. A low hum of voices started up, but still quiet enough to hear whatever it was Tony Stark had to say to resident loser Peter Parker.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you didn’t take your lunch today?” Tony asked as he dropped said lunch in front of Peter’s really sad, pathetic tray of cafeteria food. “I’m not blind, piccolo.”

“No, it was an accident, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. He wanted to beg for the man to leave, but knew from experience of asking Tony not to embarrass him, Peter would only guarantee his own doom. “Honest. I slept in by accident, I forgot to grab it after breakfast.”

Tony pushed his glasses up. Peter squirmed when he was pinned by those intense brown eyes, wishing Tony had kept his sunglasses down for once. Apparently, whatever Tony saw was enough to satisfy him, though, and a grin found Tony’s face instead of the severe, disappointed grimace he’d been boasting before.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said. “I’ll see you after school, ‘kay? Happy’s picking you up. May had another unexpected night shift, doesn’t want you alone. We’ll have a movie night, I’ll even rope Pepper into this one.”

Then he dipped down and pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, loud enough for the obnoxious ‘muah!’ to be heard by the whole student body. Peter could feel his soul exit his body as the entire cafeteria took a deep, shocked breath. Tony ruffled his hair once, smirked at Peter’s blood-red cheeks, and strolled out like he didn’t just break everyone’s minds.

Peter’s eyes dropped to his lunchbox in favor of looking out across the cafeteria of eyes and saw a sticky note attached to his lunchbox. It read, No more forgetting food, or else no lab privileges for a month. Love you, kiddo. -TS

And when his entire school lost it’s shit following Flash’s loud, “What the fuck was that?”, Peter couldn’t help but smile.

I love you too, Mr. Stark.

Tag List: 

@keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @riseuplikeglitterandgold @just-the-daydreamer @roaringgay @serendipity–goddess @tony-wheres-my-supersuit @baloobird @spider-beep @swagfictonreadingnerd @tcny-stcrks @josywbu @zuusiee @as-clear-as-crystal @an-adventureland @hannah-emily-zhang @spideynamu @soupgromlin @spideygirl2003 @fleur-dw

[oursubjectisntcool]

If I ever open my own PR firm, I'm going to name it "8 Mile Strategic Communications".

Hear me out:

So I used to work in church communications, right? Believe me, it's harder than it looks: trying to navigate a presidency during which the world's perception of the church condensed into a racist, gun-toting, anti-immigration hypocritical hierarchy, when in reality it's a spiritual hospital filled with and run by well-meaning but screwed up people who are trying with varying degrees of commitment to make the world a better place through life-giving salvation. And I would stand by these people sooner than I would be convinced to stand against them. But let's hone in on the screwed-up part for a second: as one of the few "mega-churches" (hate that term) in America, there are bound to be administrative failures, spiritual hypocrisies, and hastily-executed plans that put the church leadership in hot water. There are biblical concepts that they teach from the pulpit that I 100% agree and almost always come off as controversial. Sticking to your biblical guns is going to get you in hot water with the world sometimes, so long as your consistent, I'm good with you. But when the aforementioned oopsies start being used to accuse leadership of among other things: liberalism, trying to establish a new world order, selling church property to the mosque down the street, wanting to kill white people (seriously??) or any of the other crazy accusations I heard leveled at the leadership in recent months, we should be able to respond and say these things aren't true and you're being ridiculous by even considering them.

You wanna know what's holding them back from doing exactly that (in the humble opinion of this communications professional)? There's apparently a certain decorum in communications that needs to be maintained in a church setting: deleting negative comments on social media posts, trying to save face, backroom meetings where major arguments erupt, lack of transparency. There are all these things that people accuse the church of but because we are broken, screwed-up people, there is a perception in leadership that we don't have a leg to stand on to fight back. And we may not crumble because we're kingdom-minded and not earth-centered, but our reputation crumbles and it's just added to the list of reasons why people stop coming to church. Why would people in need of a Savior go to a building where all this supposed church family is doing is tearing each other down?

Let me get to my point:

You remember that scene from 8 Mile at the end where B Rabbit defeats his opponent? Do you remember how he did that?

The whole point of the battle rap format is you win by picking apart your opponents weaknesses, hypocrisies, physical flaws, etc. and cleverly forming on-the-spot rhymes out of those chinks in the armor. Then your opponent is so embarrassed that he/she is unable to think straight that they can't come up with equally or more clever retorts or are straight-up stumped.

B Rabbit didn't just destroy his opponent Papa Doc by revealing he wasn't as gangster as he proported himself to be ("his real name's Clarence!"), he started by pointing out his own flaws and OWNING THEM.

"This guy ain't no motherf***ing MC I know everything he's 'bout to say against me I AM white, I AM a f***ing bum I do live in a trailer with my mom My boy Future is an Uncle Tom I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob Who shoots himself in his leg with his own gun I did get jumped by all six of you chumps And Wink did f*** my girl I'm still standing here screaming, "F*** the Free World!" Don't ever try to judge me, dude You don't know what the fuck I've been through"

TLDR he basically lays out all the means by which Papa Doc could possibly lyrically attack him and shows that he is unbothered by these things because his life is screwed up but it's his life!

He ends the battle to thunderous applause with this phrase:

"I'm a piece of white trash, I say it proudly And f*** this battle, I don't wanna win, I'm outtie Here, tell these people something they don't know about me"

I won't ever advocate using a secular - let alone an extremely vulgar - example like this to try to teach the church because the Word of God is "quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. (Heb. 4:12)" and way more life-changing than an Eminem movie.

HOWEVER,

Why can't we at least partially apply this to how we conduct the church and our reputation in the world? Just lay it all out - that way at the very least, no one can come after us for hiding anything. "Yes we preach and believe XYZ, yes we've messed up, yes a lot of people have left our church, yes we've lost a ton of money in tithes.

But regardless of all of that, we live out the fact that:

1. God is a loving and powerful Father who created us to have a relationship with Him

2. Our screw-up-ness from birth prevents us from having a relationship with this God

3. We can't do enough good things to earn us a seat at the table with God, let alone a relationship with him.

4. Jesus subjected himself to all the same pressures we face and yet didn't cave to any of them and lived a life completely 1000% on point. Yet, he paid the mass punishment that we earned by our screwed-up-ness.

5. Everyone who recognizes that Jesus is God in human skin and understands/accepts that his perfect life is enough to bridge the gap between us and God lives forever, even when he dies.