#but duke is still connecting the rest of the dots

[lesbian-batgirl]

The fact that two of his brothers were able to figure out his identity should probably tell Dick something.

Grayson #15

#dc comics #dick grayson #duke thomas #in full fairness to dick this is after the entire world figured out he was nightwing #but duke is still connecting the rest of the dots #panels.txt

[burning-omen]

Loki Laufeyson x Royal! Gn!reader headcanons

(a/n: pretend I've posted more than once this year PLEASE! Also the request is over a year old at this point so uuuuhhhh)

Warning: mentions of stitches and blood, mention (1) of possible sex.

Requested by anonymous: Hey, I think you are taking requests atm? If you're not I'm very sorry, could I request being royalty and dating Loki would include headcanons, and gn reader maybe?

Your relationship with Loki was a secret.

Mostly because, as the current ruler of (kingdom), it was in your best interest to keep up a modest and disciplined appearance.

Dating a terrorist didn't exactly scream modest or disciplined.

recovered terrorist.

Well, with your current position, dating was completely off the table anyways so you might as well go all out.

You could have been dating the most normal, sainest person in the universe and they would have still called for your immediate removal.

Luckily, you and Loki could keep a secret

You met when he, very gracefully, crashed into the side of your castle. Having nearly broken your window, only to land- unconscious- on your balcony.

It was late, but as luck would have it, you were awake- reading of all things.

After calming your guards, who'd burst in upon hearing the massive collision, you went out to see what hit you.

When you saw the man you thought that he was an assassin, but the giant gash on his forehead (from hitting a massive, stone castle at 200 miles an hour) led you to think that the man was harmless- and probably going to die due the blood loss soon anyways.

You did eventually decide to bring him in, patching him up with a hand-me-down sewing kit and laying him in your bed.

He was enraged when he woke up, having been knocked out of the Bifrost by Thor roughhousing.

You didn't know who Thor was- or what a bifrost is- but the way he raved about his ‘moron of a brother’ made you laugh

He didn't stay long after that, letting himself rest in your bed and be dotted on by a sovereign (yes, he was royalty himself but being cared for by maids and servants just felt different, it felt static and practiced- you were different, your touches were elegant, but unknowledged in the act of serving- you were warm and caring- and still carried an air of hard earned superiority. It was odd), before leaving.

The next time you saw him was on the news years later, despite your family and your kingdom as a whole being old fashioned, you were still allowed some modern luxuries- like a television.

The knowledge that you'd rescued a god was rather jarring, but not as jarring as the fact that he was trying to take over the world.

Skipping ahead, the two of you met again over a decade later. For him, the time had passed like nothing, considering how long gods live, for you, that decade had dragged on longer than you could have ever predicted.

You met at a ball, despite being the current ruler for over a decade your parents, who were thoroughly retired, insisted that you'd still mingle with the lower lords and such.

After hours of small talk with various dukes and lords and princes, you met him again.

You talked, far longer than your parents had ever taught you to talk to a single person at a social gathering. You had other people to meet, other connections to make, yet you stayed with him.

The party ended in a blur, you were eventually pulled away from Loki to see the guest off.

By the time you got back to where you last saw him, he was gone.

A bit defeated, you returned to your room, the guards posted by your door wishing you a good night.

To your surprise, when you entered your bedroom- he was there, sitting at your desk, a book in hand and a gentle, yet focused look on his face.

“Lord Loki, what a surprise.”

“I don't think our conversation was quite finished yet, I figured you wouldn't mind me waiting here for you.”

Despite your last meeting being brief, the two of you were able to click together like old friends. Talking into the late hours of the night.

As you stood behind the dressing screen, tossing your royal party garnets- or “the itchy ones” as you so affectionately named them as a child, over the edge, running your mouth about all the current drama that has been accumulating within your court.

“Lord Isolles, the short man with the long, gray mustache, half of his children are illegitimate, born completely out of wedlock, and he's married too, their mothers are various other duchesses and princesses, I guess he's very popular with the older women in my court-”

Stepping from behind the dressing curtain, practically running for your wardrobe, quickly scavenging for something less uncomfortable to wear than your previous outfit, then running back.

“-I don't see what they see in him but 70 is a bit out of my age range.”

“You do know that I'm over a thousand years old, right?”

“Yes, but you're a god- so it's different.”

You did, eventually, end up in your bed (sexually or not is up to you).

In the morning, he was still there, his back facing you. Without much consideration, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to your chest. You felt his stir for a bit before settling. One of his hands resting over yours.

He is a surprisingly heavy sleeper. Though, after a while of dating, you kinda figured out that it was a biological thing, considering the other asgardians you end up meeting, including his brother, who just confirmed what you already thought.

The two of you stroke each other's egos to the point that it's concerning.

He will kneel at your feet and praise you in your (empty) throne room as long as you are willing to do the same for him.

Matching crowns, jokingly calling him your consort until it stops being a joke, Loki purposefully getting captured by your guards just so he has to stand trial before you, being wildly inappropriate the entire time, you enjoyed it- of course you did, he was a bastard but he was a lovable and entertaining one.

You wanted to kill him afterward, but he was forgiven eventually.

“Various” lords and lady’s visit you only for it to just be Loki in disguise

He likes to think that it's his way of giving you a break on your busy days.

If you wear Asgardian style royal attire he absolutely swoons, actually, if you wear anything he gives you he’ll swoon. Be it a pendant or a full outfit.

Taking you to little Asgard to meet his brother, because despite everything he does love him.

Telling you about his mother and how much you would have loved each other.

Eventually moving into a bigger room to make space for him so he can stay with you permanently.

#loki laufeyson #loki marvel #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x gn!reader #loki laufeyson x gender neutral reader #loki x reader #loki x gn!reader #loki x gender neutral reader #gn!reader #marvel x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral!reader

[fryingpan1234567]

Give me… give me Tim Drake being a teenager™️

He’s a high schooler, right? He’s like sixteen?? Ain’t no way that mf stays home all the time

Cause listen. I myself am an avid lover of shit horror movies and reading by myself and whatever, but if I don’t get out of the house with my friends all the time I lose my mind (granted my house isn’t a mansion and I’m not a superhero but we’ll move past that)

He’s got Conner and I’d HOPE he’s made at least some sort of acquaintances at school, especially because he’s a rich badass with a motorcycle. And he knows how to root out people who are trying to use him for anything so the people he hangs with are good ones

Going to the mall as a group and showing each other really ugly clothes and going “You’d look fabulous in this”

Damian gets busy and asks Tim to take Titus for a walk and Tim’s friends are like WHAT I LOVE HIM (Dami doesn’t get him back for the rest of the day)

Whenever Bruce calls him with the group he’s gotta be like “guys guys shut up” and they’re in the background making obnoxious noises

But it’s worse because a lot of the times it’s about a case so Bruce will be like “Tim there’s been 4 murders report to the scene immediately” and his friends are pretending to fuck in the background

CONSTANTLY making fun of him spontaneously disappearing

But still covering for him when he does

Steph and Duke are in the group too, even tho Duke is a year or two younger

Conner flirts with everybody so no one connects the dots that they’re dating until one day Tim runs up filming for his Snap story, goes “VIBE CHECK!!” and drags him into a kiss he was NOT prepared for, and then runs off again in front of the whole group

Everybody is big brain with a caffeine addiction. They became friends for a reason, obviously

They fight over who gets to go on Tim’s bike w him when they go places. His extra helmet that’s reserved for his friend group has a big purple sticker on the back that says ‘WHORE’ in glittery cursive. If he takes literally anyone else on his bike (a rare occurrence but still) he’s got a regular black helmet

(Steph loves the whore helmet)

Please picture Timothy Jackson Drake (attempt to anyways) smuggling banned food onto campus to stuff in his and his friends’ lockers because they’re too lazy to leave every time they want food

#Tim Drake #Red Robin #dc #something came over me #also I was writing more DC x Riordanverse aka my excuse to ship Percy and Tim and I got some good stuff bro I’m back on the wagon #anyways gn

[loeyshandtattoo]

hindsight (chapter 2) | park chanyeol x reader

a/n: it took me awhile revising this chapter and i had to have a clear vision and connect the dots of the rest of the plot that i had already established, but here it goes anyway and is a bit longer than the previous one, and has more chanyeol appearance compared the last time it was sort of like the pilot episode. i hope you all love this, to all who where anticipating for a new chapter and i hope i served you all justice today

warning/s: alcohol consumption, mention of cuss words, some angsty shit i guess

word count: 4.2k words

IT STILL BAFFLES me how and when Baekhyun learned of my puppy love for his best friend. Admittedly, I have liked him ever since Baekhyun introduced him to me, and it only grew when the teasing part started; he would call me ‘cute’ for some reason because he likes seeing me turn red in embarrassment.

Back in my last year of Middle School, I learned that Chanyeol was dating the new girl from our school. I just thought that any guy like Park Chanyeol would just kiss and drop her, until I discovered that it was serious. I could still remember how broken I was that night. After attending the academy, I went straight home, moped around my room, and cried for days. Even though Angel and I were the best of friends, that was one secret I never told her.

Because Chanyeol dated my best friend.

She was the new girl.

When Angel was just starting out as a freshman and he was a sophomore while I was already in my last stretch of middle school, that was also the time that I had a chance to befriend the girlfriend of the guy I was going through my entire teenagerhood because I was the younger sister of Baekhyun, and I admit that I befriended her so that I could see the bad side of her, and just like the namesake herself, she was the purest and kindest person that I have ever met, and she deserves someone like this man she is with.

For the past two years that Angel and I have been friends, she still has no idea.

When I finally surpassed the feelings that I had for Chanyeol, the timing also had its ways, just so happened that was also the perfect timing to break up, and that was when I was already midway my freshman year, and as I have entered real high school, I also learned how much important of a phase it was and through my first years of high school, I had figured out that the football team was chasing after me, and they were taking turns on trying to court me and luckily, with the help of Baekhyun, he told me to turn them all down as they were only placing bets on me, which I learned the next day, Chanyeol had to beat all the athletes from the socccer team for that reason, which had Baekhyun skeptical as well, and while I just thought it was his older brother instincts that came out.

"Young Miss, You may finally rest now; I have removed all your makeup." Annie spoke with the most comforting voice. The room was dimmed, which turned my room into a relaxing ambiance. My mother was very strict with bedtime procedures, especially with me since I am her only daughter, and she was concerned that the next two years of my life would be filled with nothing but debut preparations. Upper Elites practiced this debutante ball every year as a symbol of family presentation to the world of Aristocrats of the Upper East Side, and it was one significant thing that Lower Elites did not have aside from inherited wealth, which is a debutante ball. Aristocrats have admired the same European practice, as takes us back to the reign of Queen Charlotte of UK, although debutante balls are a symbol of matchmaking functions, it also serves as a function that a woman is ready to take her place to become a lady and prove it by attending different galas, functions and charity events as well as the talk of her future, and even so the event will merely take two years later, the madhatters are preparing for it because of mother’s connections, and since our family is one of the nine dukes, it was important to make a presentation—to build image and I was representing the House of Yangban—the Korean Aristocrat, and the roots of the Secret Royal Family, the most important figure of the Elite High Society.

"Did Baekhyun leave?" I asked her. She nodded, bowed her head, and walked straight to the door to finally leave me alone.

He had to return the Rolls-Royce to him anyway.

"The bouquet does not reflect Sweet Sixteenth, Charity, Mother complained as she went over the selection of bouquet setups, and here I was following her around since I should also be concerned with the preparations for it, but the majority of the plans were made by Mother, and even so, the slightest bit of opinion does not qualify for it.

I was about to open my mouth, gathering up my courage to say that I would also like tulips and that they would also be a good addition to the bouquet. "If you were thinking about tulips, dear, it won’t go absolutely well with the rest of the flowers that I think suit the best." I just seriously gave up.

"You can do it next year," Mother added.

But she said the same thing last year, and Mother went all out with the Lily of the Valley, which had me wondering if I was already getting married at that time as it was a White Party, she said.

"Cali, dearest, I’ll have the driver pick you up and pick up the custom-made Vivienne Westwood dress that I had requested for you. I bet you will love the black, and don’t worry, there are lace embellishments and different trendy stuff that I had mixed there for you." She spoke happily.

Well, that would have gone better if she had consulted me before naming her price. As I was waiting in the foyer for the driver, I dialed Angel and decided to ask for company. "Yeah, sure, I was just sitting at home." I smiled as I heard the honking of the limo as I held my Dior saddle bag, checked the time, stood up straight, and exited the building.

I entered the limousine, "Upper West Side, please," and opened my phone.

BE THERE BY TEN. HURRY UP. JUST KIDDING. TAKE ALL THE TIME YOU NEED.

"Your Mother outdid herself again, I could say." Angel chuckled as she admired the party venue. This time, my mother chose a high-rise and rented the entire penthouse for my birthday. Men were wearing their tuxedos, and women were wearing their a-line dresses that vary in length. As I was a girl of morals, they said, it ended until my knee, but Angel and I had different plans earlier, especially when we picked this black dress.

A blank expression was maintained on our faces when the custom-made dress was presented to us. "This is your birthday dress, or am I stand- corrected?" Angel quizzed. The hem reached below the knee, and the sleeves ended at my wrist. "This was the dress my mom was praising earlier?" I sighed.

"That is it; I am going home." I had lost all hopes for everything for my birthday.

"Oh my, Calista. It does not look that bad at all. Tell you what, I have a plan tonight." Angel convinced me to do as I was told, and here we are rotting away in this dreadful party filled with people from the Yangban house and the Upper Elites, exclusively, and Angel was my request plus one in the guest list, and Mother was still a bit skeptical about it since I was inviting a lower elite, and she will only be the only Upper Elite in that party.

I saw Baekhyun drinking his scotch whiskey again. "Good. There you are; I was stalling time." Baekhyun spoke.

"Huh?" I quizzed.

Then he dragged me out of the party venue and into the elevator that was obviously going down. "My little sister won’t be spending her birthday like that, Baekhyun said, and as we were nearing the ground level, the door opened, and outside the building there was a limousine waiting. That took a lot to process; I breathed it in and exhaled it out again.

"Mind telling me where we are going?" I asked Baekhyun. The limousine was not yet moving, meaning we were waiting for someone.

"We are going to show you how we really celebrate our birthdays, Lower Elite style." Angel spoke as she and Baekhyun high-fived across me. My jaw slacked as I saw their proud faces and decided that we should just go ahead with whatever they were planning, and I hope it does not involve something troublesome.

The neon lighting and the loud sound blaring into the party venue were enough information to take me to where I was taken by Angel and by Baekhyun, where I saw that they had taken me into a club. "You idiots brought me into a club?" I was so ready to scold them, and they assured me that everything was fine.

"Come on, I’m here anyways, so drink like you know how." Baekhyun assured me that everything is under control.

"Do they serve wine here?" Baekhyun laughed at that thought. "Hope not," He said as he entered the club and disappeared into the crowd of people.

I glared at Angel, and she smiled. "Don’t worry, your brother assured me that he limited the drinks you can take, and all of the people from school are here; many are from lower elites, but for sure they won’t talk around, especially since your brother is there, Angel said as she grasped my elbow as assurance.

Then I saw Angel bring out a skimpy-looking black dress and say, "I demand you wear this, birthday girl." She winked at me, and I widened my eyes at the look of the dress. This was the backup plan that she was telling me earlier.

Roaming around my birthday party was difficult; it turns out Baekhyun invited the whole school into this club for my birthday. Baekhyun feared that I was a bit old for not being open to alcohol, and so here I was sitting on a bar stool as I watched Angel turn into the polar opposite of how I used to think of her before. "Bitch, you drink?" I saw her on a totally different level, and she smiled and dipped her thumb and index finger into the bowl of salt and grabbed a pinch and consumed the shot glass of tequila and grabbed a lime wedge from the bowl and sucked onto the acidic fruit.

"Yeah, and this bad boy is called Tequila." Angel proudly spoke as she downed another shot glass.

"You only knew me two years ago, Calista. After dating Chanyeol, I learned how to drink," she narrated.

Yeah. They both dated, but that was ancient history.

"Here, drink one glass, and let's say that you have passed the test." Angel encouraged me, and I kept refusing, but still she was continuously offering me the glass, and I just gave up, and I looked at her as she eyed me, anticipating as I tasted the liquor down my mouth and burned my throat.

"The fuck! It’s bitter; you guys actually like these?" I asked her, and she nodded.

"You grow to like it, Cali," she said as she sipped her mocktail and offered me hers. "How about this one? Try it!" She offered me her glass, and this time I wanted to try it again, and it was sort of tolerable and much better now. Angel clapped for me happily and ordered from the waiter: "My friend here says that she’s also ordering the same thing that I am having." Angel spoke.

As the barista prepared the drinks, I glanced at the situation and saw that everyone was partying their guts out, and there I saw Baekhyun with his best friend, of course, dressed in his tuxedo as well and drinking his whiskey, and they were all going berserk, and I laughed at how silly they were behaving.

"Here you go, ladies." The barista offered us the drinks, and I politely thanked the barista, and I heaved a breath before taking a shot. "Don’t take it that way!" Angel scolded me and passed the lemon and salt. "You drink it like this, Angel said as she grabbed her lemon and demonstrated what she claimed to be the right way, which led me to do the same thing.

Which had me take a lot more, and I could still remember blowing my birthday cake and everyone singing happy birthday, and then all went black.

Happy Birthday to me, I guess.

"Good morning, Young Miss." Anne wished me a good morning with a smile.

There seems to be no headache at all, and that got me suspicious. I was heavily drunk last night, and the least I could expect was an excruciating headache next thing in the morning, which I didn’t seem to have. "It was very unlikely of you, Young Miss, to wake up this late, Anne said as she arranged all the mess on the floor. The contents of my clutch that matched my outfit last night were scattered around the bedroom floor.

"Your Mother was expecting you earlier to join her for breakfast, but you did not seem to respond earlier this morning, Anne added.

It hits differently when something so insane like being drunk hits you, but one thing’s for sure: I love the feeling, and now I feel something for Angel.

"I’m really sorry, Anne. I sort of had a bad sleep last night, and all the slumber is still kicking in." I spoke to Anne with a smile as she left for my privacy, and then I heard Baekhyun calling me from the hallways of the house with a panicked tone.

Then I dazed at him as he stood by my door, and he rushed inside the room, closed the door with a slam, and locked the door. "Where were you last night?" He asked me.

"What do you mean where was I last night? I was with Angel and you the whole night in the club?" I tried to knock some sense into him, and he scoffed. "No, I was not; I was with my classmates, and I was looking all night for you after the party, but Angel told me you just vanished." He spoke.

If Baekhyun did not take me home last night, who else did?

"And why in the world do you smell like man’s perfume?" Baekhyun quizzed, and I was taken aback and took a whiff of my hair as I tried to recollect from my mind’s memories of last night who I possibly was with last night.

"Please..." I mumbled and prayed, hoping that it was not someone that I did not know and someone that could have possibly molested me. As I closed my eyes, I recalled the memories; however, they were blurry, but some familiar voice spoke to me.

"I’ll take you home." It was a man’s voice, and it was oh so familiar, but the face was something that I couldn’t distinguish.

"Your Royal Highness, we have to be discreet as much as possible; this lady has an aristocratic background, and we must not raise suspicions." A man possibly in his fifties spoke with the man from before.

"Were you sure enough?" Angel asked me as we walked down the school hallways. As we conversed about that night’s events, she could hardly believe that the man that I was referring to could possibly be someone from the secret royal family. The Secret Royal Family of Yi was the one that established all the luxury lives that we are benefiting from, and all of the aristocratic houses are very thankful to the family for giving honor to our heritage as royalty. "I am sure that the man addressed him as ‘Your Royal Highness," I exclaimed.

"The only people in our world who address them with an HRH title are members of the secret royal family, even if we don’t see them at all. It’s like God to us," I added.

Then, as we walked through the hallways, I saw Baekhyun and Chanyeol, and they had their books in hand. I looked over at Angel, and she was admiring him. From the very start of their breakup, I knew Angel still had the deepest feelings for him, and through her actions, there was no question. The way her eyes still glimmer with hope when she sees him along the hallways and everywhere just pains me enough to just sacrifice what I have left because I don’t want to be suspicious anymore, but what Baekhyun said that night as we went home from the charity event was also convincing.

"Calista, you know about these situations. You should learn how to gamble your feelings away even if it means not ending up with your feelings being returned," He said as he held on to the wheel.

That night was extremely windy, and the way our hair flew and the fabrics of our clothing reacted to the gush of wind as Baekhyun drove hastily—even though I told him to slow down, he just never listens anyway.

"How about Angel? I can’t hurt her." I cried to Baekhyun, and he sighed, "Calista, if Angel is your true best friend, she will understand you no matter how much it hurts, just like you have always understood and sacrificed your feelings for Chanyeol. I bet she will do the same." He explained.

I scoffed. The rules of the girl code are strict but simple: the ex of your best friend is off limits. "Either way, Chanyeol will clear it up for the both of you; just trust me and him," He added. Chanyeol, as I have learned and experienced through my years of childhood with him and my brother, was the gentlest man ever known to mankind until he reached the point where popularity took the best of him. We rarely had interactions, which made me miss his attention when I was young, and I rarely see him because I started attending the academy when I entered middle school. The yearning to see him again made me realize how much I had fallen for him.

Then we bumped our shoulders, which earned a painful groan from both of us and elicited a quick ‘ouch, and we looked at each other. "Sorry, I mumbled, and he assured me it was fine, and I looked over to Baekhyun, then Angel.

She looked down to her feet, and from that moment on, I felt bad for Angel. She is my best friend, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. From the start, I knew how much feelings she harbored for Chanyeol even more than I do. What they had is something that I can’t penetrate my way through, but still, even if their relationship is no longer valid and I don’t like the way my best friend is clinging to her last bit of hope that they will come back together as a couple, it is something that I can just do for her and not hurt her anymore.

Then, after that, we simply walked away and looked at Angel. "Hey, are you still affected?" I asked Angel, and she nodded. "I just can’t believe that he just called it quits with no valid reason," Angel explained. I just tried to be there for her, console her on the spot, and assure her that everything would be fine, even if it cost me my feelings for him.

I should not be talking about him at all.

"No, I am not going to any stupid party, you dipshit." I told Baekhyun, and he continued to plead that he go with me to that year-end party for seniors, and I kept refusing. "And I am not a senior, so that means I am not invited!" and here I am still reasoning out with my brother why he should not bring me to a party filled with throwing questions here and there about which university they will be attending next year, and how can you just say that you are Baekhyun’s younger sister and you’re just a High School sophomore?

Baekhyun scoffed. "But you want to drink, am I right?" He offered. "Done and done!" Baekhyun agreed. After the incident one night, he refused to let me consume alcohol anymore, and here he was saying that the alcohol ban on me was lifted. But here he was, walking towards me and sitting on my bed.

"If you fear seeing Chanyeol, I think it’s the perfect time that you become honest with your feelings about him, even if there is nothing there; he deserves to know whether or not he accepts your feelings; it is something that you have let out of your system, and in that way, you have no regrets." Baekhyun spoke.

"Because what I want you to do is choose yourself; let your heart win this time."

"Now go and do your thing where you dress up for ten minutes even when it is not." Baekhyun joked and made me chuckle. One thing about Baek is that he has this force that makes me want to always be with him, the relationship between the both of us, and how it will always be the two of us.

He asked me to dress up and do my makeup. Now, what kind of girl could ever disagree with that? And even if I did not, I could not miss the opportunity to play dress-up.

The year-end party was taking place at Chanyeol’s place, and of course his having the most solid reputation known had urged him to do this, and the fact that we are here in the Upper West Side is like a crime for us aristocrats, but since we feel like we have some sort of entitlement over everything, it does not matter at all, and here my brother is ditching me again for the people he knows as if he does not go to school almost every day.

Then I looked around the place as I wonder that the place has not changed ever since, and I grabbed a mocktail that was being served, and I saw the huge flight of stairs and decided to do a bit of exploring around the house as if I have memorized every nook and cranny of this house, which actually I do, and as I have finally landed on the second floor, looking for someone that I have been looking for all night. However, my search was cut short when I heard someone talking along the dimly lit corridors of the house. "What do you mean you have fallen in love with someone else?" Some girl spoke.

"I liked her ever since the start; I needed to date you at that time," The guy answered.

"That is extremely unreasonable to call it quits with me two years ago with no valid reason, and my mistake was letting you get away with that, and now you claim that you have fallen for someone before you even met me. How far can you go with all your stupid excuses?" She yelled at Chanyeol, and I know who the girl was, and it was Angel.

"Because she’s aristocratic and I needed to let go of all my feelings for her, is that enough proof for you, Angel? Is that already valid for you?" He replied with pent-up frustration, and I saw Angel go teary-eyed. "That night when I said I love you and when you did not reply, did you even mean it when you said that you’ll grow affections for me so that you can return it?" Angel was getting desperate at this point, and she clutched Chanyeol’s chest, and he sighed, "I did mean it. Then she cut him off and kissed him.

"Please, mean it when you say that. I love you so much, still." And continued doing it right in front of me.

I clutched my chest, where my heart is located, as I watched them do it right in front of me as the session got heated. I decided to go back down where everyone was and wanted to escape right at that moment. I should be happy for Angel for finally earning his love back, but when she is already at the point where she is happy, it just comes down to me being the complete opposite, and I decided to escape here and just cry my heart out.

Chanyeol pushes her away. "I like Calista, Angel. I’m sorry." He apologized, and Angel looked at him with tears that were threatening to fall.

"You could like any girl, but why does it have to be my best friend?" Angel sobbed and covered her face with her palms.

"That is why you wanted to talk to me?" Angel asked.

"My intentions were pure, Angel. I told you that I liked someone else, and here you are feeding your delusions when I already told you the reason why I called it quits two years ago," Chanyeol reasoned.

Chanyeol recalled that time when Baekhyun told him that if he loved his sister that much, he should do what a man should and settle his issue with Angel, which he did because he respected them both, and before he proceeds with anything with Cali, he should do what he feels is right—to be brave enough to recognize his feelings and settle it with Angel, but the night turned out to be different than what should have been.

#exo baekhyun #exo imagines #exo smut #exo x reader #park chanyeol x reader #baekhyun x reader #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fic #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader

[k-dokja]

FESTIVAL MELODY — first companion piece for Festival Arc, featuring Daniel.

A/N: The fact I wrote the previous piece like crack and this one smooth as butter is going to be my 13th reason.

Learning that you were present because of your interest in Duke's music was a pleasant surprise and a vouch of confidence for your mutual acquaintance. However, had it not for the coincidence of you being assigned the cleaning duty the same day as him, he doubted there'd be this encounter.

All in all, Daniel couldn't complain about his bout in life at this very moment.

Turned out, your time spent here was not a total waste and Daniel had never been more impressed in his life after he heard the demo Duke played. But even with his words of compliments spewed towards the other boy, he found himself lacking in front of your technical advice.

“You produced music, too?” Duke asked once you were done with your pointers, to say he was impressed would be an understatement.

“I... grew up on a lot of music classes, I know a bit of everything,” you sighed, “but I don't excel at any... except singing, maybe.”

“Still, it would be a great help to hear your feedback later,” Duke added. “If you wanted to, of course.”

You smiled, surprisingly kind. “Sure.”

By then, Daniel was a bit out of place with his complete ignorance towards any musical knowledge. Even as the conversation went on about the melody side of the song, the one where Daniel had to sing, Daniel couldn't stop thinking he was punching above his weight again.

Still, he sang and waited for the response. On Duke's side, he smiled, but you, you remained with your neutral expression. Always hard to read.

“Your natural singing voice is good but...” Duke glanced towards you, inquiring for your input.

You caught on quickly, drawing out a sigh, “It is good but your pitch is all over the place,” you “your breath control is abysmal, too. You're trying to sing, not to croak.”

Daniel scarcely got the chance to wince before you toned down your criticism. “But, with enough practice, you can improve incredibly,” you inclined your head towards him, indicating your silent approval, “you have a lot of potentials, it's simply that your groundwork is... rough.”

As the two other boys absorbed the information, you were given the chance to continue. With an offer that he didn't expect. “I can help you train,” you said, “I’ll be helping Duke anyway.”

“C-Can you?” Daniel sputtered, “I mean, if it's not too much of a bother.”

Once again, you smiled, “It’s not like I will do anything else for the festival, might as well give a helping hand.”

Although you were kind when you extended your offer to assist, Daniel soon floundered under your tutorage. Strict and blunt would encapsulate your method of education, yet it was effective in how he had improved faster than expected. From what you told him by the end of the session, however, much was needed to be done still.

But his throat was raw and overworking any further would damage it, so you advised him against practising at home and let himself rest.

He'd discover, later in his original body, that there was the chance for him to practice without worrying about harming his vocal chord. It was a necessary shortcut with only so many days left before the festival, he'd be foolish not to utilize it.

As it happened, surprises had the tendencies to follow each other. It would not be long until the second one followed.

“You sing?”

Your sudden appearance at the store was nothing out of ordinary. But after spending the afternoon with you at Duke's place, somehow, he was under the impression it would be a while until he saw you again. Never mind your shared class.

Daniel didn't mind your presence so much as he minded what you discovered. If you managed to connect the dot while you were there, he didn't know which hole he'd crawl into. “Gah—w-when did you arrive?”

“About three songs ago,” you shrugged apathetically, placing your purchases on the counter.

Snacks and energy drinks again, you probably intended on staying up late. “S-Sorry, I thought no one was around, I should've noticed.” Daniel hastened to check out your products, not wanting you to wait any longer because of his mistake.

You, however, couldn't care less about it. “It’s okay,” you shoved your hands into your pockets as you waited, scanning the empty interior of the store, “must be lonely around here if you sing to fill the void.”

Save for the drink machines and the freezer humming in ambiences, much of the store set in an unsettling silence reserved for a late-night shift. Daniel had grown used to it by this point, there was far more to dread out there than the company of his own self.

”Y-Yeah,” he ducked below the counter, fetching a plastic bag for your contents. “it helps with the silence.”

You dipped your head in understanding, but from your spaced eyes, your mind was elsewhere entirely. “You know, I'm helping a friend with vocal training,” you mentioned, “he has the same problem as you.”

It was a surprise to hear that from you. Surprise to hear anyone say that about him, and more than anything, you were the one saying it. Daniel didn't know how to feel. He might have misheard it for all he knew.

“A friend?” Daniel stuttered, unable to believe his ears.

“Well, no, more like a casual acquaintance,” you twisted your lips together, “he’s a classmate of mine, he's helping another guy with his festival performance.”

It would not be a lie to say his heart dropped down to his stomach after your clarification, but it was understandable, there was nothing substantial about your acquaintance with him. “I... I see,” Daniel forced a smile, more awkward than intended, “well, I hope everything will go well!”

“Me too,” you mirrored back his smile, ignorant to his inner turmoil, “I’d like to see them succeeding.”

As you collected your bag from the counter and turned on your heels, an idea surfaced in his mind. One that couldn't risk any indecision. “Can you... Can you give me some pointers as well?” Daniel spat out before his brain stopped him from overthinking. “I’d like to improve, too. I-If it's not too much trouble, of course.”

You stopped from leaving with trepidation setting a frown on your brows. He had thought you would turn him down then and there with how you tensed up at the question.

He was glad to be wrong. “...I guess I can,” you said, “but I must warn you, I'm a strict teacher.”

Daniel smiled in relief. Your method was no news to him, he should be able to endure it. In any case, this turned out better than expected. “That’d be great, thank you!”

This festival was looking up for him already.

By the tenth day of practice, Daniel found that your guidance on top of his extra hours managed to bear fruits. Even Duke was blown out by the result, Daniel couldn't help but feel a bit proud about it.

“It was all thanks to you,” Daniel directed his smile towards you, hoping to turn the credits of this incredible outcome towards you.

Instead of his two bodies, of course, but your helping hand contributed immensely to his improvement. He couldn't thank you enough.

“No need to butter me up, you did that all by yourself,” even as you waves him away, a grin began to creep up your lips, “but I guess I'm an incredible teacher to be able to turn a complete novice into a fledgling amateur.”

You cackled afterwards and Daniel realized he had never heard you laugh before. Even if it was an evil attempt at maniacal boasting, you sounded cute somehow.

What mattered now was Duke. After all, none of this would've come to be without him in the center of it. From what he had seen, you had spent a number of hours helping him with the instrumental, too. Daniel had seen a variety of equipment you lugged around for the additional sounds.

One of them was the lid of a massive pot. Neither you nor Duke could explain what was it for when he asked.

By the end of it, the outcome far exceeded any expectations set by the three of you. Confidence was brimming in the room, even Daniel sensed the chance of success looking at the horizon.

Everything would turn out for the best, he was sure.

#daniel park #daniel park x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[organic-guacamole]

episode 209 spoilers below

I'm so late today but here it is

I love EJ, he's finally learning to be happy. I'm so proud.

Ms Jenn = every boomer during zoom calls, like jeez yes we can hear you stop shouting at me.

LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKE ABOUT QUARANTINE "these dark times" "you mean spring break?"

ah yes, remember when we thought covid was just gonna give us a longer spring break? good times

SEBLOS

damn the passive aggressiveness from Carlos and the absolutely over it tone from seb✋

CASWELL COUSINS!!!!! THEY'RE THE BEST!!!!

we needed more if this kind of goofiness for the first part of season 2 that only such an iconic duo can provide.

old old movies-

is it even that old, or is Nini being a gen alpha rn-

i choose to imagine EJ being scared of the movie and hiding in Ashlyn's shoulder while she keeps a straight face and then EJ pretending to be tough afterwards

aww redlyn are soulmates.... yknow, if gingers had souls

(please ignore me)

y'all saw how EJ's face *lit up* when Gina logged on? how dare you tell me he doesn't like her

ofc she's no damsel in distress, she's Gina porter, she's amazing.

so do we think she'd be the type to just glare at suspicious people? or bark at them

do they not know that Rini broke up? or is Ms Jenn just wanting Nini to suffer through her heartbreak to make her a better actress....

speaking of, why is Nini in the call? she's not in the show anymore. Unless she is, even after the rose and the song got cut, which would be so unfair to all those that auditioned properly before she even came back but whatever, she's the main character I get it 🙄

big red is a hero honestly, Nini better thank him for changing the subject like that

I can't-

i won't work you over the break-

this woman would 100% work her kids 24/7 if it was legal and idk how to feel about it.

YES GINA USE THAT CHARM

QUEEN

FRENCH QUEEN

SHE LEARNT FROM THE BEST (antoine obvi)

smh the airport lady, eavesdropping on Gina's call.

The way she was so happy to answer EJ's call, "eej"

I love them your honour.

EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YES PLEASE

great now we need to see Gina, Ashlyn and EJ having a complete spa day and EJ getting really into it and Gina and Ashlyn take pictures of him when he's laying down in a robe with a mask and cucumbers on his eyes.

finally we get to see Gina's side of portwell

the way she considered it as flirting, this is the sign she asked for in episode 6 come onnnnn

no is Asher/jack really doing tiktok dances in an airport-

Ricky is me. I am burrito.

oh Lynne, sweetie, I'm sorry but the blonde hair is not it

is that even the same lady or-

THE BEAN

THE CHICAGO BEAN

THE BIG OLD METAL BEAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY 😭

jetlag is my go to excuse for anything... I haven't travelled in 2 years.

"welcome to the Lynne and Mike gossip show. where we talk about our depressed son that we both neglect in certain ways! And now a word from our sponsor, Nord VPN..."

SO MANY CANDLES

WHAT DEMON IS LYNNE TRYING TO SUMMON IN HIS ROOM-

is Nina becoming social media obsessed EJ from season 1? AND SHE LIED ABOUT HAVING SONGS TOO PLEASE WHY ARW THEY RECYCLING THE SAME PLOT-

Gina smiling at the picture of her family on Instagram makes me so happy, idek why.

EJ's nails are so pretty, we needed to see it more (unless he had it on for the rest of the episode and I just.... didn't notice🧍🏽‍♀️)

oh not the tiktok kid✋

yes ma'am end this strange mans whole tiktok career

sir take a hint and leave

GINA NO DONT SAY YOUR LAST NAME HE COULD BE A HUMAN TRAFFICKER

Ricky, walking in style✨

weird kid, ok then Lynne, can't you see he's this close to the edge?

not all your fault baby Ricky, Nini sucks a bit more

RICKY YOU DIDN'T COME DOWN HARD ON THE SONG-

YOU ASKED WHAT IT WAS ABOUT AND SHE SHUT YOU DOWN-

PLEASE DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF

ok but the deleting comment thing was very bad

still don't know if I like Jack honestly

hmmm so Nini's calling herself Nini instead of Nina in her little egg seat, while trying to write a song without inspiration.... Nini, honey, Ricky was your muse, he inspired you to write all those songs, even if it wasn't good for the relationship.

that doesn't mean you gotta get back with him, or that you can't write a song that not about him butttt it'll take some time

the rainbow sticker in her box and her rainbow shirt-

anyways wbk she's not totally straight

Jack are you a criminal?

quick, Gina, check his ankle for a tracker

THE YES AND PRACTICE STRIKES AGAIN

the way Gina wasn't into it in episode 6 but she's used the technique twice now

stole her grandma's Pomeranian-

Jack where the hell did you pull that out from-

the fake crying killed me, that looks like so much fun though

anyone wanna raid a first class lounge with me?

wait so is jack not gonna go in with her?

wouldn't he go in too? help look for the credit card? SO CONFUSED

the first class lounge guy was so into the drama though, watch his face when they start arguing 😭

sorry to break this to you Kourtney, but you haven't even blocked the second act yet soooo...

take that as you will

I love how all of them are totally dissing the dance off

that's the most realistic part of this show tbh

shouldn't Nini have asked how she knew....since the start? why is the fact that her best friend has knowledge of a North high secret now dawning on her...

Howie is sweet honestly, at least he's trying to help. but I stand with Kourtney, don't take him back just because he sang an amazing song, and is giving you a heads up on what's gonna happen...

KOURTNEY IS ME TRYING TO LEAVE AN ONLINE CLASS

I hate school

ooo Nini's writing a song about bad internet connection 🤩🤩🤩

I never lie, except when I do-

son that is the creepiest thing you could say to a stranger that you've been "helping"

2 truths and a lie👀

he's an Ariana fan 100%

called it.

OLDER BROTHER-

WHAT-

free spirit? damn so brother porter was in that horse movie

so has she been kissed or not?????????

I feel like she's moved more than 15 times though so possibly

but then if she's moved so much, and before east high she never opened up to anyone, she's never been kissed then?? damn

same though Gina so let's be besties please

heartbreak president is a great song title idea, give Nini a call rn

but wait

is the no strings attached feeling thing about her telling Ricky she liked him? she thought she was moving away so she thought it'd be no strings attached???

guys I think I figured it out insert the "I've connected two dots" meme

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT

IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND'S

OMG I LOVE I LOVE

NOT THAT I KNOW OF???

ma'am did you just kill me

yes you did

Lynne and Ricky have such a weird relationship

YES IT DID SUCK

TODD SUCKS

LYNNE SUCKS

yeah I get that you wanted Ricky to like Todd BUT THAT WASN'T THE TIME

right so we already know that Ricky was so desperate to keep Nini cuz he didn't want to be like his parents, and now Lynne's talking about this-

Richard needs a long hug

yes Lynne, it is your fault. thank you for finally admitting it.

YES DYE YOUR HAIR

BLOND HIGHLIGHTS RICKY WILL RISE AGAIN

"sometimes the best, last thing you can do for someone you love, is let them go."

gotta admit I teared up at that point

not me thinking big red was calling ms Jenn cupcake for a hot second-

Carlos please omg, you're at the "beach" and they're leaving for the pool?

also, why not just do the call from the hotel room please omg

"don't ask me"

"Carlos"

OMG WHAT HAPPENED

big red wants the tea

O M G

SEB IS JEALOUS

JEALOUS SEBBY IS MY FAVOURITE THING IDC

I'm surprised ms Jenn knew how to give Nini permission to screenshare tbh

So lily's been stalking the East high kids and spending time editing this video while she's supposedly in an immersion trip.... right

EJ and Ashlyn's picture is so chaotic, what even is happening there

"slacking off" bestie its spring break, obviously they're confident enough that they'll get it done in time so why not focus on your own musical.

jealous seb = sassy seb

please what if those guys Carlos is posing with are his cousins or something and that's why he's so confused about Seb

6 YEAR OLD EJ I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM

Nini saying she's obsessed with her ex, that's not weird at all 👍

I can just tell Matt had a blast harassing Julia with those puppets.

Jack please dont be like that, "yet"

chances are you'll never see eachother again 🥰

(honestly sometimes I really miss those friends I made on trips and stuff when we'd spend the day or week together, only to never see them again....those were the good days though)

Ashlyn and Nini should write more songs..... something better than this one at least

Nini: "im good"

cue the Tia Mowry (please I can't spell) crying gif

oh I forgot Ricky was in the show for a hot second

1. where did Gina get to film this without people being around

2. did she just... randomly change her clothes???

ok but the transition between Carlos and EJ

*chefs kiss*

now everyone shut up, EJ's singing

oh i think I'm pregnant

HIS MUSCLES

YES KOURTNEY

I love how big red and Kourtney went from being "the best friends™" to the couple in season 1, to kinda close themselves and having their own plots

sebby makes me so happy

props to biggies editing skills honestly

PORTWELL BEING SIDE TO SIDE I CANT

AND SEBLOS OMG

big red lives for the drama

"wow" so true Ricky

no he is not cute, stop it

"holding" ok that's kinda cute

yeah EJ's a lucky guy😌

jokes aside, it's not that hard to exchange numbers-

keep in touch if you want

ok I really like Jack now

if he comes back in season 3, maybe have him be LGBTQ+ ?

like the only out characters they have rn are Seb and Carlos and they're like the sterotypes, yk?

I'd love to see jack kinda break the mold

Ricky's breaking my heart

that song just hurts

the only thing

now I don't hate Lynne????????

HOW DARE THEY WRITE IN A PROPER REDEMPTION ARC FOR HER

UGH IM SUPPOSED TO HATE HER FOREVER

I mean I don't live her now but she's good

but honestly

"mom can I show you something"

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL

THE PICTURE AND EVERYTHING OMG

I'm sobbing please help

Gina saying she's just waiting for the right guy and then EJ coming to the airport to pick her up late at night without her asking, offering to bring her back in the morning so she won't have to Uber, bringing her a granola bar (WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE FORGOT TO PACK) and without expecting anything in return???

ms ma'am you've got a keeper right there

her smile at the end was so heartwarming I really can't.

this episode was great.

it felt really short but I liked it, great character development for Ricky, Lynne and Gina.

Cant wait for next episode to see more of EJ being the ideal boyfriend /hj

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts spoilers #ej caswell #ricky bowen #gina porter #seblos #nini salazar roberts #jack hsmtmts #carlos rodriguez #seb mathew smith #kourtney greene #big red #ashlyn caswell #caswell cousins #portwell will be the death of me #guac's episode text blocks :)

[collectivefandomstuff]

that cryptologist thing is awesome XD mind sharing a few examples of his work and of Bruce getting tired of failing to decipher it at all? XD

Ok, so weird cryptic messages starts showing up around Gotham, right? Nothing too unusual because it is still Gotham, but Bruce notices. Strange messages usually mean one of three things; supervillain, organised crime, or both. These messages are a bit different than normal though. For one, Bruce can’t figure out the code, mostly because it keeps changing. For another, nothing nefarious ever seem to be connected to them. Because there’s no immidiate threat, this mystery becomes more of a side project that he entertains whenever he doesn’t have to deal with Killer Croc or Mr Freeze or some other very real problem.

When Tim first finds out about it, Bruce has found 5 messages. One seems to be braille, another morse code, and the rest are all a jumble of numbers and symbols. Tim refuses to help (”I have to go to Hong Kong tomorrow because someone left me in charge of their company Bruce”) but he points out that the morse code, if you convert the letters to numbers, seem to be spelling out pi.

Bruce becomes convinced that the Cryptologist is obsessed with the idea of infinity and eternal life.

Babs takes pity once when she’s bored and manages to crack one message. She calls him and asks where he’d found that one. Bruce tells her that’s the one he found spray-painted on the wall of Pedro’s Diner. Babs says that that makes sense since, to her knowledge, the message said: “You haven’t had french fries until you’ve tried Pedro’s!”

Bruce leaves “the Cryptologist” alone for a while after that.

Jason, on the other hand, started this project because he had some downtime on patrol once and was feeling huffy. He made a code based on some poster he saw outside a closed down theatre and scribbled “Batman? More like Bratman, am I right?” on the back wall of a strip club.

It becomes a habit mostly because he finds it insanely cathartic, even more so when he realises that Bruce is actually finding these.

-

At one point, Jason uses the original braille but writes in Vietnamese (which the original braille is not conducive to).

Batman finds a pattern of dots along a wall by the docks, painted in stark yellow. It takes him a while, but he figures it might be braille. Problem is, it still makes no sense. He spends three days trying to get it before he’s distracted by Killer Croc.

(The braille spelled out “row, row, row your boat, gently down to Arkham, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Batman is a fraud”)

Another time, Batman finds a code carved into the side of the Opera house. He spends weeks monitoring the building, worried that the code might mean an impending attack. Jason finds out about the surveillance and spends the same weeks sneaking around by the Opera house wearing increasingly worse “suspicious” outfits. He’s caught by Steph one night (Batman outsourced the surveillance due to Bane causing trouble). Steph takes one look at Jason’s fake handlebar moustache and goes “oh I’m so getting in on this”. After that there’s two strange figures loitering around the Opera.

(The Opera code is a mixture of coordinates, the first letter of the locations spell out a message that, if you change the letters to the third letter after that one in the alphabet, tells you that “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen, Tod und Verzweiflung flammet um mich her!” When informed, Steph thinks this is a little morbid and convinces him to add “nine out of ten Gothamites want to know: do the butts match?”)

Jason’s pièce de résistance is when he graffitied the Police station. Big, bold, rainbow letters splashed across the façade of the GCPD, without witnesses. This means that, not only is Bruce stumped, but now Gordon is involved. As is the press, on account of this code being rather more conspicuous than previous ones. It doesn’t take long before pictures start pouring in to the Gotham Gazette showcasing the other codes. And before anyone can say “Vicky Vale insinuates that there’s treasure involved”, the hunt is on. Around the city, people are scrambling to figure out these secret messages. Meanwhile, Gordon and the GCPD, and Batman are all working overtime to unscramble them first. Jason is having the times of his life, leaving nonsense clues and sending cryptic letters to Vicky Vale. Tim, well involved at this point, takes to Reddit and 4Chan to set the internet on fire with red herrings and conspiracy theories. Steph, Dick, and Babs, who’ve all been let in on the secret one way or another, respond to Bruce and James’ requests for help with endless incompetence. Damian and Duke refuse to get involved to begin with. Rumours about the hidden treasure of Gotham spread across the country. Two Face is so caught up in trying to win the hunt that he messes up and gets brought in by two beat cops.

It finally ends (sort of) when Batman is busting yet another megalomaniacal plan to blow up the city, a simpler feat then usual due to the sheer amount of people running around the city, posting pictures online of suspicious activity. He fails to apprehend the villains, Penguin and Riddler, but they both complain loudly from a distance about these new bozos flooding the city. Batman can’t help but grumble that it isn’t his fault. Riddler scoffs and asks “isn’t the Red Hood one of yours?” Batman frowns and demands to know why that would even matter. Riddler and Penguin both look at him incredulously. When the Riddler speaks, it’s with a careful tone Batman isn’t used to hearing from him:

“Maybe because “Red Hood was Here” is written in 13 feet tall letters on the Police building?”

#asked and answered #lovely asks #the cryptologist #long post #batfamily #jason todd

[dropsofletters]

hate everything

— summary: the heir of a fashion brand and a modelling company has nothing to do with a duchess, but xu minghao spends more time in her castle than anyone else she ever knows. perhaps, his presence is so perpetrating that even after falling in love and breaking her heart a thousand times, he stands. she may hate everything, but she doesn’t hate him.

— title: hate everything — pairing: xu minghao x reader (ft. joshua hong) — genre: heir!au ; duchess!au ; royal!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; slowburn!au   — type: angst ; fluff ; romance ; drama ; suggestive ; humor (with a happy ending though!) — word count: 25,984

December 17th. Five years ago.

To wear a dress is a tradition. No matter how harshly the fabric tightens around her ribcage, or how badly her legs ache whenever she has to bend over and place another faux kiss on a person’s cheek. To have something as expensive as the cloths that drape over her should be a blessing, the quartz pink lace of her sleeves falling off her shoulders, a corset placed on her waist to become an image to look at—a product, maybe. The skirt leaves more to the imagination, flared and eccentric, and she’s starting to wonder if someone would realize if she only slipped away from these hells that should’ve been crafted in Hell—

Royals are used to this. The children of those enigmatic individuals train the entirety of their lives to be three things: charismatic, beautiful…and fake, overall. One would know when she’s an outsider; part of it but also a branch of the many more important people in her family-line. Therefore, her Father being a Duke and his daughters becoming, inherently, Duchesses of their own shouldn’t be of higher importance than anyone else in this goddamned party, but they are. Because, over everything, they are there for something—to be coquettish and courted, find a man of wealth of the highest society to decide either of them is worth their time.

She pushes her chest forward when her Mother steals a glance at her, quirking an eyebrow in the process, silently telling her to act like a lady. Maybe, Princesses are used to this, but she’s not quite ready to call herself anything remotely close to that. Instead, she brings her cup of lemon water up her mouth, opening her lips a bit wider so her immaculate lipstick doesn’t get ruined and scrunches up her nose as delicately as possible in the process. The children’s table is filled with snacks and sodas, and she can’t help but feel envious of such exquisiteness.

The high ceilings showcase twirls of gold and blue, curling onto themselves to give the view of a wider space. Instead, the white and champagne walls are covered in pictures of the real Royals. Her family, though not as close, definitely more wealthy and more important than she is, mingling and chatting as if it’s their job. It probably is. Some people stay at the center, dancing with glee, finding more people to talk to, all of status. Not that she does anything other than stay seated on her designated table and let her sister do her job.

Socialize, in this case.

Socialize and find some connection that will leave her family in a better position.

She breathes in softly, her fingertips playing with the itchy fabric of her skirt, feeling the strands of her hair start to hurt against her scalp after holding up such hairstyle for so long. This is not who she is, but it’s who she is designated to be. Normality has not been set for her, neither has fame made its way towards her. She is nothing more than just another dot in a world where she doesn’t quite fit in—Royal, but never a known Royal. It’s up to her to make herself become a paragraph, more than the simplistic end of a sentence.

When she feels the presence of someone behind her, she doesn’t think much. Around five hundred people, if not more, have attended the main castle’s grand event and, of course, there is not of space left. But when a soft breath mingles on the back of her neck and a manly scent, almost musky, makes its way through her nostrils, she realizes whoever this man is has decided to get close to her specifically.

“Why aren’t you enjoying yourself?” There it is, that voice, dulcet, soft, breathy into the air as he tries to whisper only to her over the music. It reminds her of words written on the back of her notebooks in high school and crushes that were destroyed by the imminent existence of graduation. The schools she attended to, since the beginning of her life, had been considered the best of the best but the only good thing she remembers is—

“Joshua.” The name comes to her easily, and she doesn’t even have to turn around to see one of the many Princes of a land not too far away from hers. Well, not hers—her family’s, or something of the like. Joshua is, technically, perhaps the fifth in line if he were to ever reach the throne, and he spends most of his time out of his small land than doing Royal work. “What are you doing here?”

Joshua holds a glass of what seems to be wine on his right hand, his brown hair pushed away from his youthful face. Only twenty and looking like he owns the world, and perhaps, he does. A fitted suit falls on his slim body, his waist accentuated, the back of the jacket trailing a bit downwards, its rich black color contrasting well with his olive skin. His eyes fold romantically at the same time his lips curve onto a smile. “Hi.” He says first. “Well, uh, I was invited? Isn’t that the only reason why I would be here?”

“I haven’t seen any of your brothers here.” And most people would say that they don’t know the names of all the Hong brothers, but she does. It comes with the number of times she has spent keeping her sighs locked in front of Joshua, a daydream that has been unattainable for the entirety of her life. “That’s—I figured you wouldn’t be here.”

“Now I’m here.” Joshua breathes out, taking a sip of his wine. “Why the long face?”

“Ah—” Her hands indeed come grasp at her cheeks, eyes widened as she tries to come up with an excuse. “I don’t really like parties, that’s all.”

The statement has his eyebrows raising, youthful above all. “That’s a big statement.”

“There’s a lot of people here,” She says, hands coming to rest on top of her dress, curling around one another only not to reach out for him. Not that she has ever heard of Joshua being a lover of many girls, but…he has never quite shown signs of wanting to be with her. “And no one really wants to talk to me, so. Also, the drinks…I don’t like them. I’m hungry, too—”

Joshua’s smile transcends into full-on laughter, throwing his head back just as he extends his hand forward. “You just haven’t gone to a good party.” He says, waving his fingers into the air. “Come on, stand up.”

The feeling of his hand sliding into hers feels like the satin covers of her bed, slipping away from her in a rainy morning when the maids ask her to join them for breakfast. When her family is not around and she gets to enjoy the solitude of being both warm and cold. Joshua does as much as interlocking his fingers with hers, and she both wants to smile and die at the same time. “What—? Why?”

“I’m taking you to a good party.” Joshua decides out of the sudden, walking with grace as they move towards the entrance, but she has to stop him at that moment, heels digging onto the tile flooring in a way that almost has her falling.

“J—Joshua…” She chuckles a bit when he looks at her over his shoulder, finishing the last few drops of his wine. “My family is here with me. I just can’t leave like that—”

“Tell your sister to cover up for you.” Joshua says, shrugging his shoulders. “Come on, we both know we’re Royals…but we’re not that important in this event. If we leave now, we still have the rest of the night to enjoy.” His words are calm, like everything he does, never does he look like he fears the world may eat him alive for his actions. “Besides, I’ll make sure to take you home safe and sound.”

One of those opportunities that falls from the sky, graced by heaven, suddenly seem to be covered in a veil of doubt. Her family would love for her to go out with someone of importance like Joshua—but parties aren’t her kind of thing. She has gone to many of them as she has grown up, drained herself of all possible social skills because of how tough it is to try to be liked by everyone. “…Are you sure this is a good party?”

“Listen,” Joshua breathes out, a pout on his lips. “My oldest brother is going to get married in January and my friends want to throw a birthday party for me before I have to go back to my land. That’s all that’s going on.”

“But, your birthday is on December 30th—”

“And I’m leaving on the 21st.” He tugs at her hand then, and maybe, this is enough to tug at her heart strings, as well. “Come on, we haven’t hung out since I graduated and that was almost two years ago.” Knowing how to speak, because someone like Joshua Hong has taken charisma classes since the day he was born, perhaps, he adds: “I’ve missed you. It’s all up to you, of course, no pressure.”

Missing him is something she has done, as well. With every arranged dinner with someone that she doesn’t like, and every moment she spends wrapped in between her blankets watching romantic comedies, in the rare occasion that she exchanges her historical films and enthusiasm for something more of the like of youth. Joshua Hong is someone she met when she entered her teenage years and has become, instead, her longtime dream.

“…Only if you take me home before three in the morning.”

Joshua nods. “I can do that.”

“And if you promise we’ll grab something to eat on the way there.”

“My friends are waiting for me outside. I can ask them go get some drive-through on the way to the mansion we’re hanging out at.” He always has a solution to life, so simplistic and sure of himself, and maybe that’s what drags her closer to her sister, asking her to cover up for her as her heels click against the floor. Now, the least of her worries is how pompous this dress is, but how nice of an opportunity has settled on her lap instead.

Throughout her entire life, she has had a conceptualization of love that feels like a fairytale. If she didn’t get to live the entire fairytale of being a Princess, then she may as well expect to get a Prince in return. The way the wind blew on his hair as he talked to his friends, taking small bites of the fries they shared, his eyes glistening when he looked at her—it all felt like love. The young kind. The one that makes her feel like she only has one more day to live and he’s willing to give it all to her. His jacket rubs her skin when he gets her closer to her, music blasting loudly, and for once, she’s not the daughter of the Duke and Duchess, or another Duchess in that raunchy Royal stance—

She’s just another person in this world.

“…Hey, you okay?” The question breathes in between the two, the limousine able to take up the group of six people. Joshua, however, only seems to have eyes for her. Maybe, it’s that little string of hope that tells her that the butter-like words and the fluttery feeling inside her chest mean something. They have to. “I’m here for you if you need anything, okay? If you want to leave, we will.”

So far, nothing seems to bother her. Instead, she lets him wrap his fingers around hers, sending a hum his way. “I like this. They’re nice.”

“They are.” He conquers, looking out the window once again. Petrichor and a Prince, the sprinkles of the unwelcomed rain now becoming a mere memory. His lips wrap around a tranquil smile when he says: “You’re an adult now. People become nicer as you grow older.”

But that’s not what she has heard the maids at her small castle say. People only grow worst with time, like weeds—they hope someone falls so they can hold onto them. Twenty and ready to bite into the world with expertise, she accepts his words as truth. “I see.” She conquers. “Maybe, I’ll get to know people like that now that I’m going to university.”

“Didn’t you want to go for history in university?” Joshua asks, and she remembers the talks that they used to have when he was a senior in high school.

“That’s the dream.”

“Say: That’s the plan.” Joshua corrects. “If you make it a certainty, you won’t have time to hesitate.”

That may be the key to happiness—not hesitating, not doubting, not blinking twice when a man like that offers her his jacket and holds her hand like he never wants to let go of her. Joshua has become a plan, not a dream. “That’s the plan.” She whispers, earning a chuckle from Joshua.

“Good.”

###

The wicked, Mother used to call them. Those who live their lives for anything other than socializing in the most antique of ways are considered to be outcasts. From Royals, one can only expect utmost beauty—from normal people? The raunchiest. Those go to cheap parties. Those drink horrid alcohol. Those embark in love stories that only last mere months, and drop their secrets out at the appearance of whatever person seems trustworthy enough. Mother always considered people less than her, but she never understood her. Why is it that out of this group of six people she should feel better? Because she doesn’t enjoy a party? Because this mansion is bigger than her own and hence, she has to find something she is better in than the owner of said house?

The son of the owner of the house, Zhang Wei, barely pays attention to the pristine flooring or the worker that trails right behind him to serve him another glass of wine. He’s twenty-one, the oldest of the group, and somehow, so lost in his own world that he doesn’t notice anyone but his own phone. According to Joshua, he’s not as much of a lightweight as others, and the frown perched on his enigmatic and perfectly crafted face comes from the longing of his lover, living seas and seas away from him. Zhang Wei is a sight to look at when he’s seated on the red, leather couch of his living room, the clean wood under his feet looking dirty with how shiny his designer shoes were.

Heejin is the drunkest, as of now, twenty years old just like Joshua, long hair cascading down her back as she insists on holding onto Kyle, one of her closest friends, whose bottle-like glasses make his brown eyes look much smaller. Finally, Seungcheol has lost himself to the karaoke machine nearby, taking the bottle from the worker’s tray to bring it up his lips, taking a nice swig of the alcohol before smiling brightly. Life is good for all of them, so why should she judge?

“Let me help you out,” She doesn’t notice the reason behind Joshua’s words, or why he places his glass of rosy champagne in between her fingertips as he drops to kneel in front of her. His fingers softly glide across the bottom portion of the fabric of her skirt to showcase her feet. “You’ve been fidgeting since we got here. I’m sure Zhang Wei’s sister has a pair of flats that is more comfortable for you.”

“Ah, they were supposed to make my legs look better.” Though, that doesn’t seem to phase him, lifting a thoughtful eyebrow that reminds her of the times she would catch a glimpse of him studying in the school’s library. She’s free from such place as of now, thankfully, for the only memories she wants to keep include Joshua and some history classes in between.

“No one can look at your legs with this cupcake you have for a dress.” He jokes and her laughter rips through her even when Seungcheol’s singing voice covers all sources of it. “Besides,” Joshua starts again, throwing her white shoes somewhere on the wood, clicking obnoxiously. “Your legs are already good as they are.”

It’s in the magic of acceptance that a true gentleman earns a heart. Somehow, Joshua reminds her of the men in the shows her maids watch. Damn, she spends a lot more time with them than she does with her Mother. “You say?”

“I confirm.” Joshua finishes, settling himself down on the seat beside her before taking his cup once again. “Besides, it’s not like I could not notice. You always dress the prettiest for all the events we go to.”

She has to giggle at that. “Thank my stylist.”

“Why do you doll yourself up so much?” Joshua asks, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not like it matters. What other people think of us, that is.”

Oh, and that’s only one of the many things she loves about Joshua. How in syntony and acceptance he seems to be with the fact he’ll never reach the throne. “Mother says we should always look our best. You never know who you’re going to find.”

“Are you looking for someone?” Joshua asks, eyes inspecting her vision, lips wrapping around the glass in a way she wishes would rest upon hers. A first kiss from him would be a symphony to dance to, a bite onto the cleanest of apples. “Like—”

“No.” She replies quickly, interrupting him in the process. “Well, no—ah, not really. Depends…”

Joshua chuckles. “Depends on what?”

“On, well…” On you, Joshua Hong. “Depends on the situation. I’m not looking, rather…waiting.”

“Waiting,” He repeats, a gush of air blowing towards her face straight from his mouth—alcohol in his scent. “Yeah, that sounds like you. You’re the person anyone would love to wait for.”

“Am I?” She asks, trying not to sound impressed. Flirty, she aims to be, but she sounds far more robotic than intended. “Oh, wow.”

A laugh that doesn’t make it out his mouth accompanies his next statement. “Go look for a pair of shoes with Heejin. At this point, we all have to dance to Seungcheol’s singing.”

“Okay, but wait for me, okay?”

The connotations of such sentence only fall on her later, opening her mouth to say something before Joshua smiles widely. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for a while?”

Heejin doesn’t even have to be called by the time she wraps her slim arms around her shoulders, placing her cheek against hers as she speaks loudly. “Ah, I love all of you guys so much.” Her voice trails with the amount of alcohol inside her body, her cheeks tainted in a deep red, her nice profile cold to the touch. “Who are you again?”

She has to give a tight-lipped smile then. “Care to help me find a pair of shoes? My heels were killing me and I need something comfortable.”

“Ah, of course!” Though, even through her drunken hues, her sweet personality comes through and shines a light. “…I know exactly where to find shoes here.”

“Good.” Heejin clings to her hand with glee, moving her to the spacious and curved set of stairs as she throws a glance over her shoulder to look at Joshua. The man, however, simply lifts his hand to greet her, leaving her with a small—

“Have fun.”

She’s meant to be having fun, she reminds herself as she roams the mansion for the third time because Heejin can’t quite concentrate when she is this drunk. She’s meant to be having fun, she says in a low breath, when Heejin opens as many doors as possible until they reach the one that belonged to Zhang Wei’s sister, apparently not there at all. In the faint distance, she can hear Joshua’s voice singing into the microphone, epitome of youth, somehow calling out for her attention because she should be there. Wasting ten minutes of her time with him just for a pair of shoes just doesn’t sound like the best idea.

“Shua never mentioned you. It’s the first time I hear about you.” Heejin says, and she doesn’t know if her words are meant to prick or not, but they do. For someone as important to her as Joshua not to care enough to talk about her hurts. Maybe, this group of people are just not close enough to him, and that’s why he doesn’t talk about her. “Are you a Princess?”

Heejin trudges inside the sky-blue room, bumping onto a few things, dropping her jacket on the bed and she immediately picks it up. They can’t leave anything behind that tells anyone they were there taking shoes, after all. “Ah, no,” She says, following after her towards two huge, white doors. “I’m the daughter of a Duchess. That technically makes me a Duchess, too—”

“So, a Lady.”

“Yes, a Lady.” The doors open gleefully, gates to heaven that welcome a spacious wardrobe. Shelves in pristine white, bathed in bright lights, hold different types of jewelry and shoes, all organized by color and by brand. “What about you?”

Heejin may be surprised about her curiousness, twirling her brown hair in between her fingers after absentmindedly trying to put it up on a ponytail. She fails, too drunk to even do that. “I don’t have a Royal title.” She starts. “None of us besides Joshua do.” But she doesn’t forget to put some penny for her thoughts. “My dad owns four hospitals in different continents. My mom is…I don’t know, I think she’s a fashion designer. I haven’t talked to her in so long.” Though, the champagne in her system must not let her linger on the thought.

“…I see.” She mumbles, a smile on her face. “Ah, and what happened to Zhang Wei’s sister?”

“She’s at university.” Heejin replies, moving away from the walk-in closet and towards the balcony. Opening the doors wider, she now starts to unzip her dress, her eyes widening in the process. What the fuck is this girl on? “Uni…it’s overrated. It wants to make us all feel dumb. I failed my exam—”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t get naked.” After rushing towards her, she trails the zipper up once again, keeping the red, taut fabric against her body. The harsh breeze of the balcony moves her just as much as Heejin does when she pushes her off her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I want to go for a swim.” Dare she point towards the pool some good meters down that balcony, on the fucking second floor, and definitely with a good space in between its railings and the pool itself. The lights must be catching the attention of her drunken mind. “It’s going to be fun. Come on, I’ve bungee jumped, this is going to be just as easy—”

“Heejin, no.” She says, tugging at the woman’s arms when she leans her weight against the railing. “It’s dangerous. You could fall and—”

“I’m not going to fall. I said I’m a professional—”

“Heejin!” She never raises her voice. The last time she did so, she ended up being told to act like a Lady, anger flaring through the room. This time around, however, fear replaces the highness of her tone. “You could split your head in half. Don’t. I’ll take you to the pool if you want to.”

“I’ve done this before. Don’t be a prude—!” The whine on Heejin’s voice gets more persistent, and even when she pushes Heejin’s back towards her chest to bring her away from the balcony, the young woman’s toned legs flimsily move to push herself away.

“Joshua!” She calls out in a scream, in hopes of having someone support her with whatever the hell Heejin, the now discovered daredevil, wants to do. “I’m calling Joshua and we’ll take you to a swim, just—” More moving around from Heejin, perhaps trying to get away from her grasp. “Joshua! Come help me out here!”

Why is it that he’s gone when she needs him the most? Fear clinging at her throat, heart beating, eyes staring at Heejin as she slips away from her hands and works on taking her dress off again.

“Stop it, Heejin! Get over here!”

The doors of the room open with a harsh bang, thoughts of Joshua listening to her clouding her mind in a second, still battling to keep Heejin’s dress up the woman’s body. Instead, she watches a young man barge into the room. The short strands of his black hair done a mess from the sleep that still lingers on his features, a straight nose and plush lips that accompany somewhat aloof eyes, that only manage to widen a fraction when he watches Heejin on the balcony, using only one hand to tug at her wrist and bring her inside the room.

“I was trying to sleep and you were being loud, Heejin.” The soft timbre of his voice is surprising, the black t-shirt on his body reaching his hips, the rest of his legs covered in pajama pants in plaid figures. He must know Heejin far better than she does. “What did you think you were doing?”

Heejin stares at the man in front of her when he sits her down on the soft, almost cloud-like mattress, bringing one hand up before waving it across his face. “Minghao, I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

“It’s been a year since I started living here, Heejin. Use another excuse.” The man says, putting down Heejin’s hand with a soft touch before turning to look at her. “She was causing you trouble?”

“She was trying to throw herself into the pool from the balcony.” She says, well aware that it sounds like an atrocity, but she can’t bring herself to say anything but the truth. Her fingers twirl against one another under the weight of his watchful gaze. “I’m sorry we woke you up.”

“…You better.” He breathes out, though the initial annoyance of his entrance seems to be dissipating. “I’ll make her something to eat and then, I’ll ask Zhang Wei to take her home. If he’s not too drunk.” Minghao seems to be deep in thought at that, shaking his head in the process. “Who am I kidding? I’ll call a cab.”

“Okay.” She adds, a small smile on her features as she moves towards the door, shoeless, with her hair done a mess, and with the sleeves of her dress somewhat disorganized after so much tugging and pulling with Heejin. “I’ll go look for Joshua and ask me to take me home.” Though, she stops herself, turning around to look at Minghao. “Wait, why should I leave Heejin with you? I don’t even know you…”

“…I’m Zhang Wei’s cousin.” Minghao indicates, asking Heejin to stand up soon after before walking behind her, as if dragging her away from the room. Though, what surprises her the most when the door closes behind all three of them is that he manages to say her sister’s name, quirking an eyebrow in the process. “Yeah, you both look alike.”

With Minghao walking in front of her with more certainty, definitely knowing this mansion like the palm of his hand, she stutters out an answer. “And how do you know my sister?”

“I’m good friends with her.”

“I have never seen you with her.” She retorts, not quite trusting how knowledgeable this man seems to be about everything. Even Heejin grew quiet when around him, following after his every step.

“Your sister says you’re not around much.” She can’t deny that, either. For her, she’s always being prepared to find someone that betters her title—and that takes a lot of socializing and going around with her parents. “Shouldn’t I be the one who is suspicious about you? You were inside my cousin’s room and I don’t even know you.”

“I came here with Joshua and Heejin was looking for something there.” She excuses herself, leaving out the obvious—she was there to look for shoes, and Minghao may have not noticed just because of the length of her dress.

Just when they reach the bottom of the stairs, she expects to see Joshua already there—at the edge of his seat, ready to know what happened. Instead, he’s laying back on one of the many couches in the living room, his glass on one hand and his phone on the other, avidly talking to someone in a low tone, even over the music.

“Tell you something,” Minghao instructs, taking this time to show some expression on his youthful, innocent face. He may be eighteen or nineteen at most. “I’ll call a cab for you two, as well, and you’re going to go home. It’s late and you’re too drunk. This can only go wrong.”

She thinks about it for a moment, and she crosses her arms over her chest when she calls out for— “Joshua!”

The man pushes his phone away from his ear, smiling softly when he asks: “Yes?”

“I want to leave.”

“We were going to an after-party, though—”

“I want to leave.” Something of the like of pride flashes through Minghao’s face when he takes his phone in between his hands.

Joshua breathes out softly, blinking at her as if he’s trying to study her, before saying something on the phone and hanging up. She’ll never know who he was calling. “Okay, we’re leaving. There’s no need to get harsh.”

With one arm around her shoulder and a kiss to her temple, she figures out she forgives him for not appearing at the balcony.

Because Joshua is that. A silent conversation in a cab as he texts someone for an after-party, mainly because he wants to enjoy his youth as it barely begins. He’s the promises he breathes out, the words that he says, the comfort that comes with being with him—because he’s known, and he’ll always be. One day, he could even be her home. It leads to nothing, as of now, but something about this night tells her that the quietness in between the two will sort into something else. Tranquility, maybe. The tranquility that she has never gotten in that castle she lives in.

His fingertips trail down her arm when he presses one last kiss to her cheek, opening the door to the cab and getting back inside after she stands in front of the castle. The fountain by the entrance welcomes her as quickly as the guards do, and she can’t look at Joshua without needing to go back with him. Instead, she stares at the time in her phone.

Three in the morning.

Three in the morning and she watches Joshua leave to another party, and the Duke’s car parking out and way from the castle. Once again, she’s left in solitude—it’s in her blood to wait for people to arrive to her, for her nights to be filled with the questioning of what could have been. What’s not enough, and what does not meet the expectation of those around her, for them to always want something else.

It’s three in the morning when she gives a smile to the guards, trying to forget the feeling of the concrete under her bare feet, and once again, she’s greeted with the usual. A compliment on her liveliness, even at such a time.

It’s three in the morning and she’s lying.

###

August 3rd. Three years ago.

Dinners always go like this.

First, a sip of the richest drink. Fruit directly from mother nature, crafted by the hands of those who work for her.

Lips moistened, the fork and knife cut through whatever is served. In the rare occasion her Mother is not looking at her, she mixes the vegetables with the main course, adds a bit more of sauce. She lets herself enjoy it at those times.

Two chews, slow, steady, and she nods at whatever the Duchess says. The table is long enough for her to feel like she’s miles away—in this family, it always feels like that.

When she swallows, she always tries to look for a middle ground, something that doesn’t make the food go up her esophagus out of nervousness. When her eyes connect with her sister’s, she finds it. The only person in that entire table that knows her well.

Then, it’s inherent. She looks for the Duke, her Father, blocks every thought of her mind that wonders if his long trips and getaways include another family, an affair, or if he’s simply doing his job. Trust earns itself, and it lacks, thereof.

The process repeats itself until her plate is finished and she can excuse herself away from the table.

Her name is called, catching her attention away from the plate underneath her. Tomatoes sliced to perfection are left on the white ceramic when she connects gazes with her mother’s—eyes the same shade as hers, but much colder. “…How’s everything going with Joshua, my love?”

Maybe, her family was never of a higher stance in the Royal timeline because they deserved it. The only way she becomes a loving matter in this castle is when Joshua’s name lingers in between, and she can’t hate him for it. Kisses shared underneath the moonlight sealed their relationship long ago—after that December they saw each other last, and he continuously texted and called her, opting to go visit her on January to make it official. A relationship that most called expected, while she thought of it as a blessing.

Placing the fork and knife down, she interlocks her fingers together, catching a glimpse of her favorite maid and, perhaps, her best friend, Hana, standing a few meters away from her mother. Instead, she decides to answer as simplistically as possible. “We’re doing excellently, Mother.” Though, that much is not a lie. Joshua’s been working on investments to depart, or grow away, from the Royal family, and that has made him spend more time in her land rather than his. “Two years and still going strong, that has to say something.”

“It does not say much.” The Duchess says, extending her gloved hands towards her Father before resting it on top of his extended hand. “It feels like he’s not so sure about you, honey. Your Father asked for my hand after nine months of dating. If a man is sure about what he wants, he’ll make it happen in a second.”

The shots are fired, then. Though young and full with the will to keep up with her duties as a Lady, her Mother aches for more. It’s in the line of women like them—marry someone of importance, and after her relationship with Joshua became serious, all the hopes of marriage fell on her shoulders. Her sister, on the other hand, had managed to go for university…just like the two of them had dreamt of doing. History slipped away from her hands, and she doesn’t think she’s making history of her own.

“Mother,” Her sister says, an eye-roll to her statement. “Just let her be. Not everything has to end with marriage.”

“I—I think…” She stutters, wetting her lips with a bit of the orange juice in front of her. It does nothing to ease her nerves when under the gaze of the Duchess. “I think Joshua and I are fine as we are. We still have to live this part of our lives and marriage is such a serious thing—”

“Love.” Her Mother interrupts, cutting through the air with certainty. “You need to be someone of importance. I’m not going to be here for you forever…and you must find the strength to keep going. Richness. A kingdom. Something. We have given you education, now you must harvest your future.”

Though, she has never thought of her future as one that revolves around a man. It shouldn’t be like that. For, the times that she doesn’t spend with Joshua, she does a lot more than what anyone can see—study in the library, bask herself in books, do some appearances in the local schools to teach about history. The real kind. The kind that teaches people to be kinder, to want to change the world. Their land may be small, but while she is there, they won’t lack the proper information to continue growing as a society.

“Right?” The Duchess asks the Duke, and the man can only hum.

“That Joshua guy…he’s nice, but if he hasn’t asked for your hand in marriage, at least as a promise, I can’t see this going anywhere.” But, what does the Duke know about relationships? He’s barely even here to start with—

“That’s why you should try to be better. Make him notice how good of a wife you could be.” That’s what she has always been—a trophy. Words that are knives and cut right through her. No matter how much she takes in one morning with the stylists to doll herself up, or how precisely she tries to speak, there is always something else to try out. A new posture. A new class. Anything to be able to take a man’s attention. Sometimes, the tip of her tongue itches to just say: fuck that.

“I think he likes me as I am, Mother.” She replies, her hand tightening against the fork and the knife to continue eating. She’s hungry, so she may as well continue biting on her food even if she’s talking with her family. “I don’t have to be better.”

“Then, he’ll leave you.” Her mother says, as if it doesn’t hurt. As if the thought of Joshua just taking his things and going back to his land, for real, doesn’t pierce through her and leaves her breathing ragged, obstinate. “Darling, he’s always going back and forth. Business stuff, sure, but still…in one of those many trips, he’ll find someone he’ll deem better.”

“If he loves me, I’m his only option—”

“Men don’t work like that.” The Duchess spites, though she is quite thankful that she has vegetables inside her mouth, moving softly with her chewing, because she would have inherently said what everyone knows in this castle, even the workers. It’s not men that don’t work like that, it’s your man. “He’ll get bored pretty soon.”

“If that day comes, I’ll move on.”

“And do what?” The Duchess asks. “Recite the entirety of our land’s history to children for the rest of your life? Come on, darling, I taught you better.” But most of the things she learned came from the workers, the maids, the butlers, the people that lingered around her while her family was socializing— “You have to seek for a title. A Prince’s Wife, and he has been making far more money recently—of his own, too. Joshua is the perfect image of the man you have to marry.”

“Can’t we just stop talking about this?” Her sister questions, throwing her napkin on the table. “Really, it’s fucking annoying. She can do what she wants—”

“Language.” The Duke mumbles in between bites of his meal, never once lifting his gaze. Not like he cares. She continues staring at her mother, the woman shrugging her shoulders.

“It’s her choice.” But those words don’t sound like they would come from the Duchess. “But that man is the only man that she has loved, and the only one that has loved her. If she doesn’t get married now, she’s going to lose it all. Richness. Love. Opportunities. I’ll just sit back and watch it happen, then.”

Hana clears her throat, moving towards her side before dragging the plate away from under her gaze. Not that she does much, leaving the fork and knife in the air as she tries to think of who she is. What she has become other than a people pleaser, leaving all thoughts of her dreams behind to live for others— “Lady, you have finished your plate. May I give you another serving?”

She hadn’t even realized, but instead, she stands up. Moving the fabric of her black dress down her thighs, she juts her chin forward. “I’ll eat in the kitchen.” She replies, lowering her gaze when her Mother quirks an eyebrow at her. “May you please ask the chef to make me some mashed potatoes? I’m craving that.”

“Of course, Lady.”

Though, she can’t give more than a few steps behind Hana before she hears her Mother calling out her name. “You’re not leaving like that, are you?”

Sometimes, she likes to believe there is regret in the Duchess’ voice, that something in her strict way of being means that she cares. Probably, she does—cares about the status of her daughters, more often than not squinting her gaze at her slightly younger sister for being…in love with too many people. Instead, she tries to follow after her words, lowering her face the slightest to press a kiss to the crown of her head. Her scent doesn’t feel familiar. “May you have a nice meal, Mother.”

Her heart only feels heavier after those words.

###

September 20th. Three years ago.

His breaths mingle in the oxygen around her, though not clear under the golden lights of the event hall’s bathroom. His chest presses against her back, each muscle curving and contorting to match hers—and it has always been beautiful, how Joshua seems to be made just for her. With his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed to utter perfection, his teeth do wonders on his bottom lip, capturing it until it turns red, only letting go of it when he opens his eyes and pulls away from her, leaving her vacant. His lips flutter against her neck, that spot that he knows makes her ticklish, but somehow always slips his mind.

Joshua, over everything, prides himself on how good he is at hiding. Living a normal life while being a Prince comes easily for him—never once missing the opportunity to be young and free. With the mirror right in front of them, she tries to remind herself that she is a Lady. Golden, creamy dress falling off her shoulders, the see-through sleeves loose yet tightening around her wrists, small dots littering around the fabric. Her boyfriend pulls the skirt down after he zips himself, up, as if that does something to hide the fact that her hair is done a mess, her pink lipstick has suddenly disappeared (if she doesn’t count the remaining bits on her chin), and there is the tiniest layer of sweat on her forehead when she clears her throat.

The image on that mirror is of a woman sedated by a physical connection. Not of a Lady, per say. Not of the conceptualization that the castle has given her.

And she loves it.

It was not something she had done—afraid that someone would walk in, too much of a pillow princess for her to ever think about even doing anything outside of the bedroom, but trying it out just came to her head. There, in Joshua’s land, visiting a ball and not being the center of attention of people’s judgement, the thought of conversations they had in the past slipped inside her head and she ended up dragging him to the nearest bathroom. For a moment, Joshua seems to be happy, arms wrapping around her waist as she does quick wonders on her purse to grab her lipstick.

“…The best part is that I had to listen to Chopin as I did that.” The joke appears in between them as a whisper and she can’t help but chuckle, taking the tube of lipstick and smearing a bit across her lips.

“Nothing sexier than Chopin.” She speaks out, not quite remembering the moment that said piano expert’s music played from the ball on itself. Whatever. Instead, she concentrates on making herself look more presentable. “But we have another issue at hand.”

“What?” Joshua asks, chin pressed to her shoulder as he stares at her. With time, he has only gotten better—eyes more profound, lips rosier, voice more of a lullaby than anything.

“You need to stop doing this.” She instructs, lifting her upper lip the slightest to show bite-marks, the most subtle of darkening spots that come from the deepest of his kisses. “It’s hard to hide and it’s embarrassing because anyone could notice.”

“It’s not noticeable.” Joshua conquers, a pout to his voice. He pulls away the slightest then, fixing the collar of his shirt, silence falling in between them until he frowns deeply. “Babe, what the fuck?”

Annoyance lingers on his tone, and she has to look over her shoulder to see what bothers him. One glance at his face says nothing, his neck is not littered in hickeys—for, she is not much of a fan of marking him in any way. Lower, she realizes what the issue is, her pink lipstick ended up on one portion of his white button down. “Oh shit, sorry.” That’s all she can manage to say, but Joshua sighs instead.

“This is an expensive shirt, babe.”

She has to roll her eyes at this. “Everything you own is expensive, Shua. I’m sure it’s fine—”

“I have to talk to some investors in, like, twenty minutes. This is not a good look.” One last glide of her lipstick should be enough, she tells herself, sparing Joshua a look over her shoulder before sighing.

He wasn’t saying that when they got to this bathroom ten minutes ago. “I already said sorry,” She starts. “Besides, we have water here. We can just pat it out and see what happens—”

A smile appears on his features when she opens the water faucet, droplets cascading in a rapid motion before he closes the tab again. “Babe, this is a Louis Vuitton.”

She quirks an eyebrow then. “And you’re Joshua Hong. They’re just names, what’s the matter?”

“You don’t just pour water on it.”

Though, she has spent enough time with the maids to know the basics about washing clothes or taking a stain out in a rush. “Joshua, how do you think they wash clothes? With water—”

“I’m sure it’ll only ruin it more. Like, drag the stain or something.” Joshua replies, always thinking ahead of himself as he closes the buttons of his golden jacket, staring at himself in the mirror. He fixes the strands of his black hair that had fallen out of place in his forehead before clearing his throat. “I’m sure that would do.”

He’s not wrong, but— “Then, why start that whole drama about your Louis Vuitton shirt?”

“It wasn’t drama.” Joshua whispers, turning to look at her before running his hands over her arms, her legs trying to regain their composure to walk in those high heels. “I just—I’m very nervous, okay? I’ve been doing well with my investments, but it’s the first time I try to invest in something that isn’t music related.”

She lets him touch her, because there is something magical about Joshua. Knowing that he was a first—that she was lucky enough to get the person she liked on the long run, maybe the comfort and familiarity of him. Joshua spends days in his land and days in hers, basks in her presence in both sides, makes it known that he is trying to secure his future, build an empire for himself. Not a single minute goes by without the man thinking what to do next. He’s always had it together.

Crossing one leg over the other, she grasps his face in both of her hands, inspecting who should be hers. What, sometimes, he calls hers. Why is it that the name itself seems to sound lovely to her but doesn’t fit him at all? Joshua Hong is not hers. He is inherently his.

“You always do great.” She whispers, one step forward before meeting her lips with his. Kissing him always feels passionate, like he can’t get enough of her—but time passes too quickly when he does. Rushed, he is, eager to taste more, to have more. For someone as quiet and posh as him, Joshua knows what he wants. When she pulls away, breath taken away, she hears the soft lull of the piano outside. “Besides, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ve gone over what you were going to say a bunch of times and you’ve met up with them before. This is only the last step.”

“The last step is always the hardest.”

“But whatever the outcome is, you can always say you tried.”

Joshua opens the door to the bathroom then, the apples of his cheeks lifted when he asks: “Since when did you become so wise?”

Maybe, the words of the Duchess had gotten to live inside her head—what if Joshua did not feel the same as her? What if all those kisses, nights of passion, comfort, were only livelihoods for him? Ways to spend time in her land? Ways to feel like he has a home to go to even when he’s always around, from lands to countries. “I don’t know. History books make you sound posh sometimes.”

“Remind me to start the habit of reading.”

He always says the same thing, a resolution of each year they’ve spent together—but it never happens.

The public loves them. They adore the way Joshua seems to shield her from any eyes with a hand around her waist, or how he seems to take care of her utmost necessities—if her glass is empty, or if she’s hungry. What they don’t know is that this is not the realistic version of them. It’s the happy one—that one that bathes in longing after not seeing each other for an extended period of time, the happy couple that is not so happy because they avoid arguments at all cost. They don’t know that she’s wary of the eyes that linger on him or the way he talks about his life as immaculate. He hasn’t gone back to his castle in years. There is a part of him that doesn’t speak about the heartbreak that came with knowing he was last in line when it came to being a possible King.

He never talks about that. Closed-off. Perhaps, masking it as something he’d rather ignore. Joshua likes covering it up with a veil and let it dust, while she loves talking about her utmost feelings whenever she can. Hana, for example, is an excellent listener as well as a storyteller.

She wishes she had a better dress by the time they get to the center of the room to dance, burgundy walls and brown tiles, gliding against her heels and leaving her legs to touch the coldness of the atmosphere surrounding them. Something longer, perhaps, to feel like a Princess when Joshua is looking directly into her eyes. He smiles then, pulling her closer to whisper something onto her ear.

“Hey, you’re stepping on me.” He says, a chuckle following after his statement before pulling away the slightest. “Skipped those dancing classes, didn’t you?”

“You’re just invading my space, that’s all.” She replies, a bit of embarrassment in her tone when she pinches his shoulder. “Stop talking like that. You’re also not Prince Junhui from the eastern lands.”

He shrugs, something that irks her endlessly. What’s with this overconfidence tonight? “It doesn’t matter.” He conquers, looking down at his feet after. “Try not to ruin my shoes, too, okay?”

“Shua!” She yells in a whisper, eyes widened. “You’re being an ass right now.”

But, as per usual, Joshua gives her one of his enchanting smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips that sneaks a few gasps and sighs of content from the couples watching them. One of the most gorgeous and awaited lovers for the night. “You know I’m just joking,” Though, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. “And I love you just as you are.”

“I love you, too.” She tells him, a flutter to her chest, but why is it always hard to believe him?

###

September 25th. Three years ago.

“My Lady!”

Hana’s dulcet voice has aged with time, she realizes, a tad different from the unrestrictive strength of her energetic self twenty-something years ago, when she was assessed as her maid and protector. She’s a little bit over her fifties as of now, her short hair bouncing with each step she takes towards her, the length of her black skirt making it difficult for her to walk through the green fields at the entrance of her castle. With wrinkles covering her features and a thin layer of sweat living on the bridge of her nose, her eyelids and her neck, she realizes one thing.

Or two, rather.

One, she really missed home.

Two, she really missed her mom—Hana. The only woman that had grown alongside her, heard about her crush on Joshua when she was a teenager, gave her advice when she went on her first date, and would click her tongue whenever she spoke about some of the issues they had and pushed to the very back not to be talked about.

“Hana!” She breathes out, letting her luggage fall down on the floor to be taken by the butlers, arms extending to encage the taller woman in between her grasp, basking on the familiar scent of oil from the kitchen. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Though, the woman pushes her weight away from her, a mocking smile on her rounded features. “Ah, I doubt it. You were with your boy, the apple of your eye, Prince Joshua.”

“The love is different.” With one arm around her shoulder, she starts to walk forward. “How have things been in the castle?”

“Pretty dull without you, actually.” Hana includes, lowering her body when a few branches come across their way. She rests her hand on Hana’s head, just in case, aware of how important this woman is for her. Not a single line shall shatter the vase of stone that is Hana, fundamental to anything she does. “Though, we have had visitors to keep us entertained while you were gone.”

Some days that she is not unhappy about missing, actually. “Visitors? What were they this time?” She prompts. “Another businessman? Are we talking aristocrats or—?”

“An heir, actually.”

“Like Joshua?”

Hana hisses through her crooked teeth, licking something on the inside of her cheek in a way that brings a smile up her features. They are getting closer to the park by the side of their little castle, perched there for the two sisters to enjoy while they were younger—thus, nowadays used for the gossiping and chattering needed to coexist in such a harsh world like this. “Not to make you feel bad, my Lady, but I would not compare this young man to Prince Joshua. I don’t make the choices in your life, but Prince Joshua is as bland as the chef’s chicken water after he washes the meat.”

For a second, she tries to think how others would. What about Joshua Hong seems to be bland? His lack of expression, perhaps, his preparation, the way he always seems to fit in with everyone. If a lot of people like him, that must be that Hana is on the wrong.

“He is not bland.” She says, letting her dress trail on the green grass, not caring if the fabric gets stained. “Mind you.”

“Oh, I am minding me.” Hana says, moving her neck slightly as she lets go of her. “There is nothing substantial about the man is all I’m saying.”

“Why?”

“Darlin’, I know you love him…” The maid says, twirling her fingers around the necklace that rests on her sternum, all the angles of her body highlighted by the action. “But I have this little patting, bickering bird on the top of my head that gives me the feeling that he’s not the love of your life…and you’ve given up so much for him.”

Rather, she has given up a lot for everyone. Mother was over the moon the moment she confirmed her relationship with Joshua, fingers threaded with his, promises made a reality. Father? He didn’t care much—said what he had to say, only to leave. Education be forgotten for the duties of a Lady, for becoming the perfect example of what the real Royal family should have been like. That meant that her dreams of studying history went down the drain, replaced by endless hours of eternal love for Joshua Hong.

Sometimes, it is tiring.

Tiring to a plus-one.

To be the woman of a man. Someone’s someone.

She lets it go. If she has to be someone’s, she’d rather be his.

“That’s what I always tell her.”

The sound of her sister speaking to her has her perking up, a smile appearing on her features to cloud any moment of rainy thoughts that translated onto her face. Eyebrows well raised, shoulders way back, she extends her hands to grasp her sister in her hold, only to be met by crossed arms and a strong frown.

“And it fucking disgusts me that we planned on going to university together and now I see her beyond happy for spending some days with her long-distance boyfriend.”

She spits it out as if it is venom, as if every meter that separates Joshua and her physically have becoming everything and the factor of their issues. “I’m sorry,” She puts her hands down, a bit of a bite on her tone. “I hate that I have been pushed to be like this, but this is what I was meant to do—”

“S—Since when going after a man is what you have to do?!” Her sister asks, the wind moving the flowers on her dress as she steps forward, fingers curling around the air like a vice, a threat to their conversation. “I expected you to come here having broken up with that asshole!”

“He isn’t mean to you, why call him an asshole?” Born under different circumstances, her sister never waited a second to speak back. She always thought of her as the light of her days because of that—a word would never go unspoken by her. However, this time around, it hurts. Expected romanticism has translated into real love, what was once looking for a man has now become expecting for him to come back.

It’s devastating for her sister, apparently. “Because he took my sister away.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here.”

“Barely.” Her younger sister spits out, curling an eyebrow on her forehead. “What is it about you right now that connects to your old self? You spend every given second trying to follow after Mother’s awful rules of marriage and it’s starting to look pathetic.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” One step forward has Hana grasping her by the forearm, but she tugs at her. “I’m your older sister, I get to make my decisions without having you question me as if I’m some fucking child.” She spits out, looking up and down her sister’s features before the woman scoffs.

“And what? Are you an example for me?” She asks. “You’re nothing like an older sister anymore. It’s about time you wake up and realize the world is not going to change for the better if you marry a man just because you have to.”

“Who said we’re getting married? He hasn’t even asked—”

“Has he talked about it?” Her sister asks, only to have her shaking her head.

“I don’t see why—”

“Has he talked about the future with you? The longtime future when his cheeks are saggy, his hands are wrinkly, his voice can’t sound the same—?” She stops, jutting her chin forward to further emphasize her words. “Has he?!”

Her chest heaves up and down, trying to recoil in a memory that doesn’t exist. Joshua has never talked about such thing. He doesn’t even know if he wants to get married or not.

If I ever get married, he has said.

It has never been: if we ever get married…

When we get married? No.

“No.” The answer rips through her throat in a way that makes her ache, though her tone is soft. Her sister smiles sadly then, flaws pointed out to her when she shakes her head.

“Then, he’ll never ask.”

“Give your sister a break, she just arrived here.”

That voice sounds oddly familiar, but the time in her head doesn’t go back to the time it sounded against her eardrums until she looks up at the man that pulls her sister away from her. The oxygen goes back to her lungs, only to be stolen by him—wavy black hair curling against his forehead, straight eyebrows and monotone eyes still looking breathtaking on him. Something about the guy that saved Heejin, Xu Minghao, as tranquil as ever, relaxes her on the spot, beauty beyond what transcends through him…but in the lake that patters each drop to create him, mellow and peaceful.

His jacket moves with him, black as coffee, his oversized white button down on his chest making him look more elegant. Since the last time she saw him, perhaps hanging out with her sister like he always does as her best friend, he has grown quite a bit.

“Minghao, you’re a guy.” Her sister says, turning to look at her friend, much taller than her. “A man will make plans with you only if he wants to keep you long time, true or false?”

Minghao keeps his straight expression, though a glint of pity appears on his irises when he interlocks his hands behind his back. “Ah…I’d say true.” An answer from a man has her heart dropping to the floor. Not that she wanted to get married right now…but knowing that Joshua did not even consider an option, according to popular opinion, made her feel undesirable. "But, then again, that shouldn’t be something to criticize her for. Every sailor decides which ship they want to sail."

At times, she wonders if the ship that has already sailed will make her happy. “He is right.” She includes, finally connecting her gaze with Minghao’s when he turns to her. “Thank you, Minghao.”

“Just…this is none of my business,” He raises his hands in the air momentarily, letting them drop to his side in a gracefully dance. “Be careful.”

His cousin is good friends with Joshua, and the sentence alone scratches at the insecurity inside of her. “Why should I?” She asks, trying to keep levelled, though her eyes feel like they’re permanently blinking under the weight of her tears.

“Sometimes, when a man doesn’t express a lot of emotions is because he doesn’t actually feel them. It’s the same for both men and women—overthinking is just too much thinking at times.” The advice rushes through his lips, though his voice is calm. One step forward brings him closer to her, pulling the sleeves of her dress down to keep her warmer, fingers barely skimming over her skin in a way that has her looking down at the connection in between the two. “Welcome back, Lady.”

She breathes out her name, looking into his eyes in the process. “You never call me Lady.”

“Maybe, I’ll call you Princess one of these days.” Minghao retorts, a shrug coming after. “Does it change you as a person? Whether you’re a Princess, a Lady, or just plain old you?”

She thinks for a moment, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Then, it isn’t worth it to marry someone just for a title. Or push it, rather.” Minghao finalizes, lowering his face to smile up at her, soft and strong, something so inherently him. Epiphanies, perhaps, made into a person—contradiction over contradiction that complexes him beyond her understanding. She’s an intelligent woman, just not intelligent enough to figure him out. “Come on, a smile?”

His voice is much too soft, and it’s only broken through when her sister scoffs. “Come on, Minghao.” She says, nearing them with dragged steps. “I think I’ve bothered her enough. The smile won’t be real if you get it out of her like that.”

One look at her sister tells her that she’s sorry, but instead of awaiting the moment she says so, she gives a small smile. “I’m here to prove you wrong, aren’t I?” She retorts to the youngest.

“Much to my distaste.” The youngest answers, tugging at her friend’s blazer. “We’re going to study, want to tag along after you’re done unpacking?”

“I’d love to.”

###

October 10th. Three years ago.

He’s out again.

And it’s not the fact that hundreds of people get to see his smile, the brightness of it and how blinding it can become, that has her seated in front of the castle, phone placed in between her fingers, grasping it to her chest as if one simplistic ring of the device could make her feel alive again. It’s not that Joshua has the most beautiful set of eyes she has ever seen—and she has always wondered if they’re emotionless, or he’s just really good at controlling what he feels. That’s not what has her jealous.

It’s not that Joshua always dresses to the nines, loves feeling like he is the most watched man in the room—but never says it. Mighty may be the person that gets Joshua to confess something with much of a reaction, even a surprised gasp. He relishes in keeping levelled, while she feels too much. Another press of the button on her phone tells her that it is twelve at night and Joshua is still out.

He has been out all day.

She counts the texts again. Sent by her? Twenty-three. Sent by him? One.

It was seven in the morning, and Joshua had the audacity to send a picture of himself, sprawled in his bed when he’s here, in the same land as her, one hand covering his forehead, fingers threading through his dark locks, half-closed eyes and a dizzy smile. He said ‘good morning’, and the burn in her stomach told her that she had fallen in love again.

He never answered to her ‘good morning’, her ‘good afternoon’, her ‘hey, you just saw my message, why aren’t you replying?’. The ‘haven’t you eaten?’ that mocks her.

Keep sucking ass, Lady. It looks wonderful on you.

Wealthy enough to throw the phone against the concrete under her, she wishes she had the lack of composure to do so. To feel all the hatred and uselessness that racks like books inside of her, mocks her for being able to stand so much. A boyfriend of years that doesn’t even answer her texts, that had planned going out with his friends upon landing on her land just because he wanted to meet up with them. Now, when he said he’d be with her at seven, he continues to be in some raunchy club with his friends.

Seven is the worst fucking number in the world right now.

Doubts clash against her ribcage when the flimsy fabric of her nightgown clings to her skin. Her hair, less from perfect, suddenly becomes an insecurity. Her eyes. Her nose. Her lips. The way she had let go in comfort for him—in the feeling of acceptance that he had once bathed upon her but now bites her back. What if he’s in that club with one of his friends? What if one of those friends are interested in him?

She swallows thickly, trying not to scream when she hides her face in between her legs, but she does. Harsh enough to be heard by someone, but not someone in the castle. What kind of Duchess is waiting for her boyfriend in front of a castle, dressed and ready to sleep, only to be left behind like some toy?

She grabs the phone again, and types with all the will in the world—

To: Shua.

I deserve better than you.

But she deletes it.

She can’t tell him that.

She doubts him, but questions the jealousy that creeps up on her as well. Maybe, he is just having fun—his world shouldn’t revolve around her.

When she stands up, her mind is only set on grabbing something to eat. Call it a third dinner, perhaps, but she needs to concentrate on something else. The entrance doors of the castle open up for her like magic, all thanks to the guards, as she makes her way towards the kitchen. A good cardio away from her, but the smell of the leftover baked potatoes that lay on her refrigerator calls out for her attention even from meters away.

Though, upon entering the kitchen, someone else has half of his body placed inside the refrigerator, long limbs grabbing something in his hands that he can’t quite decipher. Not her refrigerator, but the one designated for her sister’s food instead—used by her chef, and apparently, by Xu Minghao.

Her body splays against the marble island by the middle of the kitchen, the low yellow lamps making her eyes hurt…or is it that, maybe, Minghao in his university-student form is really a sight to look at? His hair is pushed away from his face, haphazardly in the process, like he didn’t have time to do it. Some glasses rest on the bridge of his nose and the red turtleneck sweater on his body is as bright as the apples that he holds in between his hands. Two on each hand.

“Am I getting robbed by Snow-White?” The question leaves her, though in a badly joked manner, before she could fully think about it. Maneuvering his feet up, Minghao closes the refrigerator’s door with one swift motion before laughing at her words.

“That’s your sister’s fridge, and we have a final tomorrow that I feel like I’m going to fail.” Minghao confesses, putting the apples down on the island before leaning his weight forward. Everything about him feels like a silhouette of what could be in an art museum. “Something about math being part of a business major’s life just doesn’t sit well with me.”

For what she can remember in the times she has seen Minghao and her sister studying together, he is— “You’re excellent at math, though.”

“…I guess.” Minghao says, biting down on his lip. “I’m good at a lot of things, if I do say so myself, but there’s that gut feeling that tells me I’m going to fail.”

“Why so?”

“The professor hates me, for one.” The enigma instructs, extending his palm on the island to draw little circles on the surface. Had his hands always been this pretty? “I told him that one of his equations was wrong and that was all it took for him to have my head on the next test.”

Shaking her thoughts away from Minghao’s hand, she looks up. “But you corrected him, that means you were smarter than him.”

“It means he made a mistake. We all do.” He finalizes, ready to grab the apples on his hands and say his goodbyes until she interrupts him.

“…Do you think we should forgive people just because they make mistakes?” She asks, making Minghao stop on his tracks, his back turned to her as she plays with her hands. “As in, forgive them every time they do?”

“Not always.” Minghao, always one for an answer, debates as he turns around. “Some mistakes are worth standing someone for. Others are just not.”

“What kind of mistakes would you apologize?”

“Forgetting something, for example.” Though, he doesn’t seem to be thinking deeply about it. “Or…if someone accidentally ate something I left on the fridge or something like that. I’m not one to forgive people for deep shit.”

“Conceptualization of deep shit?”

“Mhm, depends.”

“Not everything in life is relative, Minghao.”

“But, oh why, it is!” The heir conquers, looking at her for a second before smiling softly. “What we see is not what we really think it is.”

“And how do I know what it really is?”

“You listen to what your gut says.” He says. “Life is difficult, but we have the answers inside ourselves to make the right decision for us.”

For a moment, she wants to pretend like her gut has always told her Joshua is the right man for her. But, that’s not the truth. The right man didn’t open doors for her, but loved to be with her whenever he could. The right man didn’t spend every single second with her, but made every minute they spent together the reason why she misses him when being with other people. The right man made her feel unique—like that one imperfection on her skin isn’t worth that much thinking from her, or that the curves or lack of in certain places aren’t something to hold onto as if they conceptualize her.

The right man doesn’t spend an entire day not answering to her texts.

The right man chooses to visit his girlfriend first when he has spent weeks without seeing her.

The right man doesn’t leave her standing, on her nightgown, inspected by a man that studies her eyes from too close, shoulders going up and down with each breath before his smile erases and he says—

“This is about Joshua, isn’t it?”

Not having the heart to deny it, she nods. “He hasn’t answered in the entire day.” She admits, hard to say it out loud without feeling judged. By his actions, nonetheless. “…And, well, he did say yesterday he was going out to the beach with his friends from here once he arrived, and that he’d be going to the club after that, but he said he’d be here by seven—”

Minghao’s jaw tightens, placing his hands on her shoulders to make her turn around. “Then, go to bed—”

“What if he comes home?”

“He will not.” Minghao boldly replies for what he thinks of Joshua’s thoughts. “Not only has he stood you up, but he preferred going out with his friends than meeting up with you, his girlfriend, when getting to your land. I think that’s enough for you to go to sleep or cut ties with him immediately.”

That makes her stop on her tracks, no longer moving towards the stairs but instead, thinking about his words. Leaving Joshua, that is. “…I can’t.”

“Can’t you or don’t you want to?”

The question weights her down. Both sound pathetic at this point. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what it is,” Minghao stands in front of her, fixing the glasses on his face before sighing. “You’re waiting for him to change. That, one day, he’s going to wake up and choose you over the world. You think about all those things that people say about people just needing to go through phases, and you think this is a phase—”

More than anger, disdain bubbles up inside her. “He is young, maybe this is a phase—”

“It’s not.” Minghao says. “He chose them over you. He chose partying over you. That has to say a lot about what he thinks of you.”

“…I guess.”

“Think about it.” The heir concludes his advice with that, putting an apple up to his mouth before giving it a big bite. “I’ll go study. See you later.”

With that, he leaves.

###

October 11th. Three years ago.

She liked delicacy, but that never meant she liked it when people thought she was made out of glass. Invisible, easy to break, easy to taint when breathing against it—she’s strong, even if the hits of life have left a stain on her one too many times. Punches to be taken just for the sake of it.

Let the glass that represents her be broken, at the edges that people managed to ripped but never broke her entirely. Her first friend, a young boy that flew away from the land when he was six, and left her with the memory of him. Her second friend, a young girl when she was nine, that pushed her around to make her feel miniscule—always better than her, prettier than her, smarter than her, with nicer clothes than her. It was over after four years. Then, five years went by of people that were not that good either, always coming back with that sense of hope that told her…one day, the right people will come around.

What if they never did?

Because the right man is standing in front of her at this moment, the smell of lasagna cladding the room and making her feel disgusted. Thick sauce, white and red, with meat. It all deserves to be trashed down, like the rest of the gifts Joshua carried all the way here on his forearms, his face void of any imperfections even when he must have knocked himself out yesterday with as much partying as he did.

The right man, Joshua Hong, has taken a piece of her. That edge that keeps pricking her whenever she passes by, and she never falls asleep like how it happens in fairytales. Needle-deep, it makes her wonder of his whereabouts. Makes her tighten her fists against the fabric of her dress, cross-legged on the bed as she watches him open one bag.

“I brought you something—”

“You never answered.”

Joshua stops then, leaving the plastic white bag on her cream sofa before smiling at her. Once he nears her, seated in front of her, Joshua places both of his arms around her waist, face to face with her. “But you didn’t speak, babe.”

From the moment Hana let him inside her room, just five minutes ago, she had not been able to organize her thoughts. Her guts tell her that there is something inherently wrong with this—with Joshua and how he is acting.

“Not speak?” She breathes out, each word more pointed than the other, looking up at him from a tilted position. “Is my lack of speech really an issue when I texted you like crazy last night? Called you just to see if you were okay and alive or breathing? Is that silence to you?!”

Her voice raises, enough to have Joshua pushing himself away from her, eyes widened when he replies: “Hey, I told you I was going out. That’s not—”

“What kind of boyfriend goes out with his friends when he had not seen his girlfriend for weeks and she’s right there, waiting for him—?” She asks, willing to break at that moment. If Joshua has to smash her body into pieces with one throw of reality at her, she’ll take it. “Really, Joshua? Don’t you have some sense of guilt in you?”

“I was doing business.” Joshua says, always too little, never enough, returning to the packages of gifts before scoffing. “It’s not like I didn’t remember you—”

“What?” She asks, getting closer to the bags on her sofa. “Some gifts are supposed to make me feel better?”

“I guess. I was thinking of you when I bought them.” Never does he lift his tone the slightest, and it irks her.

Placing both hands on her hips, she nods. “I’m at the wrong here, because my boyfriend ignoring me for an entire day and, over that, deciding to make business in a beach and a club is supposed to be a normal fucking thing—!”

Before she could lift his hands to grasp her head, Joshua connects his fingers to her wrists, keeping her in place to look her in the eyes. “Stop it with the dramatics. I don’t have to ask you for permission to go anywhere.”

“Oh yeah, you don’t.” She says, voice inherently low. “But it’s really low of you to prefer that over spending a night with me. An entire day, even.”

His back faces her at that moment, taking the gifts out of their confines as he speaks. “Well, I’m here right now, I don’t know why you don’t settle for that.”

Settle.

When has he ever settled for her?

Instead, she covers her eyes, tugging at her skin in a way that would have had her mother swatting her palms away. She can’t do it right now. “Joshua Hong, listen to yourself for a second. This is unfair for me.”

“Don’t you think I want to see you every day?” He questions, though she can’t see him she feels his lips resting on her momentarily. “I want to see you at every given second of the day…but I have other important things to do.”

Other important things to do.

The worst part is that he says it as if she’s not important.

Though, that’s not true. The worst of it all is when she lets go of her face, vision filled with stairs and blurriness, but mostly the picture of him in front of her, finally, when she says:

“I understand.”

But her gut feeling tells her she doesn’t.

###

April 23rd. One year ago.

The birds chirp freely for an early celebration, sunflowers mingling against her cream dress. Today, the big gowns are changed for something more simplistic—a prideful sister that embarks into a new road of success when looking at her sister graduate. In something that she likes, first and foremost, and definitely as if she was a Princess with the big celebration that Mother prepared. Though, for someone that complained that her youngest studied too much and lacked a man because of that, it surprised her that she had even planned anything at all.

Yesterday was the real event, students gathered together for one last time to close one of their chapters of adulthood. The last one in the educational stance, for those not approaching further education. Her sister preferred something more private then, asking her to tag along with Minghao to have some drinks and talk about life with people with as much power as them, given the university that she goes to, but with less of a stick up their asses. Good was an understatement for how well the night went.

Taking the cherry from her drink, she tosses her head back, relishing on the dulcet taste as the shadows the sun creates on her skin rest on her chest. Dress in the color of cream, off the shoulders, just tight enough to make her look like the adult she is, but loose enough to let her breathe. People mingle by the center, children bustling around, parents talking in between themselves, and Mother making herself the center of attention, even when her youngest sister is by her side.

A lot has changed for her sister. Meanwhile, nothing has for her.

One can only take so much scolding from their parents about not getting married, but like her sister had once said, Joshua is not quite ready. She doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready, but letting go makes a tingle go down her spine—perhaps, one day, he’ll want to. The possibilities are what make her stay, but it’s what makes her doubt the most. Downing the rest of her drink, she tries to think of something else other than the man talking business with some people in the corner, pristine as the day she met him and promised herself that it’d only be a tiny little crush.

“Enjoying yourself?”

The sound of that voice is oddly familiar. She remembers it more slurred yesterday’s night, throwing his gown somewhere on a couch to relish on drinks and good memories. Now, Minghao voices out his thoughts like he normally does, as if he had not been hungover this morning.

Letting the birds do their music when she looks at him, she shakes her head. “My juice is finished. Joshua can’t stop talking business with those men and you…my friend,” She lets her gaze go up and down his body, the sunflower shirt making her smile widely. “Are probably spring made person with that shirt.”

Tugging at the black fabric of his blazer to show the shirt, a few buttons opened to showcase his sharp collarbones and the hint of curved, yet slim pecs, Minghao looks down at himself. “I wanted to look the least professional I could.” He confesses, returning his gaze to her, though a bit squinted because of the harsh sun. “Your boyfriend may be perfect with business talks, but I am not. I can only pretend I am interested in what someone in saying about themselves until I actually tell them straight on that their lives aren’t that important.”

Hiding her laughter behind her glass, she drops the seed of the cherry inside before sighing. “Well, you’re a heir. You were prepared to be a businessman. I think that’s what makes you less interested in that.”

“That and years of studying.” Minghao finishes, taking a bite of a cookie he found on the food table nearby, munching for a few seconds before talking again. “Besides, Joshua has expanded far more than I have. My family owns an haute couture fashion brand and a modelling agency, it’s way different from Joshua’s musical takes.”

And then again, she has always wondered why she has never seen Minghao with some tall, skinny model that hangs on his arm like a beautiful match for him. “I don’t know…” She answers, puckering her lips when looking at Joshua. “At least, you don’t like the socializing but love the fashion aspect of your business. Joshua…he loves socializing with people nowadays, even if he doesn’t speak much. He just has to hang around people.”

“That’s what going out to too many parties does to you.” Minghao says, grabbing another cookie before offering it to her. “Cookie?”

“With chocolate chips?” She asks, already taking it in between her hands before taking a big bite. “I imagine how disturbed those businessmen would be if I went over there to hug Joshua and they’d saw a piece of chocolate on my teeth.”

“Devastated, perhaps.” Minghao says. “I doubt they have ever had a woman actually show themselves naturally to them. No posing. No falseness. Just plain old reality.”

“Do people really show themselves as they are in the business industry, though?” Rhetorical at most, she questions, shaking her head in the process.

“They don’t.” But, something seems to glisten in his eyes. “But you do.”

“Not really—” She tries to defend, heart picking up at the way those brown eyes look at her as if she’s different. “Mother has made my life miserable until I became the perfect image of what she wanted. Well, not really, I am not married yet but—”

“Even so,” Minghao interrupts her. “You may have to go around and throw some pleasantries to other people, but that doesn’t make you faux in any way.”

“It does.”

“No, you’re one of the most genuine people I have ever met.” Those words have her looking at him as he walks backwards, pushing his hair away as he chews on a new cookie. “It just so happens that you think being nice is not a personality trait a person can have, even yourself.”

“Well, I haven’t met a lot of nice people—” And still, she keeps around them.

Minghao, on the other hand, waves his hand in the air. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Xu Minghao.”

The smile on her face is forever petrified after that.

It must be a pleasure for Joshua’s business associates to see her smile so brightly, his hand placed on her waist as she holds onto his chest for leverage. Perhaps, she loves the way he sees her the most when he is around people—as if he has seen the answers to all his prayers on her very own irises.

This time around, Joshua impresses more than usual. A bowtie, hair pushed away from his face by some gel, and a black suit that leaves everything to the imagination. Nothing quite creative there, just plain old classic that makes him look good enough to desire.

“You two seem to have a great relationship.” One of the businessmen says, his beard practically connecting his chest to his jaw, rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose, wrinkles giving his age away, perhaps making him look older. “I remember when I was like that with my wife. Lots and lots of good times, you know?”

Joshua looks at her chuckling, pleasantries over all, and she stares back as he lets go of her waist. “Well, then we’re lucky, Mr. Kim,” Joshua says. “Because she is going to be my wife soon.”

Her face falls then, just like Joshua’s hand does to search for a box inside his pocket. People around them start to go quieter, watching the movements he does as he opens the velvety box with carefulness.

“J—Joshua—”

Both of her hands come up to her mouth when Joshua shows the ring. Rose gold with one big platinum diamond in the middle, surrounded by medium sized speckles of brightness. She’d count around thirty diamonds, all engraved around the ring that reads his name on the inside.

Her name is breathed out, as if it’s poetry—never one for romanticism, it takes her aback that he has gone back to that breathy tone that once enamored her. He doesn’t drop on one knee, instead pushes the ring halfway into her finger before asking.

“Will you finally become my wife?”

Say no, her guts say, wrenching, wanting nothing more than to run away. The right guy would have never done this—

But the time she has waited for him, the years she has spent liking him and the will to continue with this just for the same of accommodation has her nodding slowly, extending her hand even more to let the ring fully engulf her finger. Fit like a glove.

“Yes, Joshua, of course.” She says, cheers coming soon after when Joshua wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the curve on the bridge of her nose before leaning down to capture her lips in one of those overly-passionate kisses of his.

The last person she sees before closing her eyes to kiss Joshua is Minghao, a tight-lipped yet tranquil smile on his face as he claps slowly. It almost feels like he is saying…

Glad you found the wrong one for you.

###

August 1st. One year ago.

Joshua’s land has always been different to hers.

More up North, this time of the year welcomes its freezing cold, perspiration coming from every window, words tangled by the smoke that leaves people’s lips, and, of course, how to forget the marvelous fog that barely lets her look out of the window to sip on her cup of tea as people rush around to show her yet another color scheme for the wedding.

Greeneries are mostly what she is used to seeing. Not mountains, not hills, definitely not the lack of flowers that has her pushing herself away from the window to look at one of the workers in Joshua’s castle. Upon her visit, the wedding preparations have resumed, and with Joshua somewhere in the castle preparing for a presentation tomorrow, she’s left to make decisions on her own.

“Lady, Lady, Lady!” The overexcited, chirpy, and tall woman with the fringe in front of her moves it away to showcase her color scheme, all tones of the rainbow making her squint her eyes harshly. God, she’s tired of this. “You said you wanted yellow for your wedding.” Of course, because it reminds her of sunflowers, and there has never been a flower more beautiful. Home has sunflowers. Her grandmother’s castle had sunflowers. Hell, sometimes she likes to pluck one inside her hair. “But I need to know which shade you want for the overall theme—”

“Sunflower-toned yellow.” She says, bringing her cup up to her lips only to be met with lukewarm tea. She likes it piping hot, but no one seems to listen to her around this castle.

“So, is that like a toasted yellow?”

“Have you seen a sunflower before, Yerim?”

“Of course.” The older woman says, pushing her hair off her shoulders before looking down at the color scheme. “But are we talking Dead Sunflower-toned yellow or—?”

Okay, fuck this.

“Just—” Raising her hands in the air, she takes one of the many papers that Yerim had displayed. “I want this yellow.”

“That’s not sunflower yellow, My Lady.” Yerim instructs, going after her as she tries to get out of that living room. Not that it should be called that way, each and every single moment of certainty she had to get married to Prince Joshua now seems to die down upon the appearance of the wedding preparations. “That’s pee-colored yellow.”

“…Yerim!” She speaks a little too loud, startling the woman when she places one hand on the railing of the stairs, ready to go up to Joshua’s room and embark in a trip down the sets of history books he keeps in his shelves. “I don’t mind if it’s pee-colored yellow. I just want it to be yellow.”

Yerim puckers up her lips then, perhaps annoyed but unable to say it. “Well…don’t come around and tell me I didn’t tell you when all your invitees tell you your decorations look like pee.”

“I’ll be glad to hear them say it.” The sarcasm drips from her tone, releasing a sigh that has her feeling guilty. The woman is only doing her job, but the doubts of not knowing how this wedding is going to go—or perhaps, that she doesn’t fully believe Joshua is settling down for her, has her fuming internally. “Yerim? Sorry for acting like this. You know better than I do, and I am so thankful with your job.”

“Not to worry, Lady. I dealt with each of the Hong weddings and you have been the kindest.”

Damn, she can’t imagine how the others are. Instead, she decides to give her a soft smile. “I’ll be up in Joshua’s room if you need me.”

“Check his pee and see if that’s the color you want!”

“Yerim…”

“Yes, My Lady?”

“You’re pushing it.”

Missing her land is something she would have never thought she’d do. She doesn’t miss the situation she normally finds herself in, trying to please her parents and the landers alike, but that is far from what makes her ache when she looks around the castle, trying to remember the way back to Joshua’s room. Hana would have already been by her side. Her sister would have come visit, finally independent and away from the castle. Maybe, Minghao could tag along, her best friend over everything and anything—

Through the elongated hallways, with white walls and squared floorings, she finds the door to Joshua’s room on the far end, near the elevator that would have made it much easier to go up instead of using the stairs.

Instead, she opens the door with quick motions, not surprised to see Joshua seated in front of his personal desk, spacious enough for it to be considered the size of an office, a contract up to his face as he sports his best set of glasses. With the buttons of his shirt half undone, and his trousers hugging his legs nicely, she guesses he must be done with his online presentation.

“How was the presentation, love?” She asks, not missing a beat to go to the shelves next to Joshua’s office, surprised to see the width and tallness of some of them. Dark wood, bright under the sunlight, and filled with books like a library would have them.

Joshua finishes reading something on the contract before looking at her. “It was fine, babe.” He says, though, something in his voice tells her he is about to complain. “I thought I could make myself clearer, but I am not very good with introductions.”

She looks through the history books, trying to get to one she hasn’t read. Maybe, she should catch up on his land’s history. “You do just fine. You just get nervous.”

“I just don’t know what to say—”

Her fingers graze the spine of each book. Read. Read. Read. Read. “You’ll learn with time. You’re still young.”

“I’ve been in this business for years.”

“Well, you started extra young, and you’ve gotten so much better.”

“I guess, but—”

The spine of one book stops her from listening him, Joshua’s name written on it. She gets it out, surprised to see another book fall backwards, the number two following his name. When looking at the cover, she realizes that this is his diary—written there, only for her to see, is Joshua’s diary. Followed by a sequel, and then a third book, and then a fourth—

“Joshua, I didn’t know you used to write diaries.”

Those words are enough to have him up his feet, perhaps a little bit too slow for seduction, but quick enough to have him closing the book before she reads the first page, lifting her chin with his finger when he moves forward, making her walk backwards in the process.

“Old, stupid things that I used to write when I was younger. I stopped writing them years ago.” Joshua instructs, a movement on his eyes to sense his nervousness, though his lips are distracting when they land upon hers. His arms grasp around her waist, bringing her closer until he was waltzing around with her, sending her closer to the bed. “I used to write about you, too.”

“You did?” She asks, the voice of hope that comes when she realizes she likes Joshua for a reason. Most of the time, she doesn’t get to see it—but it exists there.

He hums, biting her bottom lip before letting her fall on the bed, the mattress jumping a bit at her weight, though she doesn’t pay attention to it, vision centered on him when he whispers. “Yes, about how beautiful you are…” His knees plant on the bed, right in between her legs, arms extending on each side of her head. Now hovering over her, he looks down at her lips. “And how much I wanted to do you on my bed.”

“Joshua!” She chuckles, hiding her face in his neck when he says those words. “You don’t get to say that!”

“I do.” He replies, pecking her cheek before descending for another kiss. Somehow, those diaries are left forgotten for a moment—whatever he has written in there is his business, after all, and with some chapters about her in those books, she can’t ask for anything else.

###

August 4th. One year ago.

When sunflowers rest in between her hands to pick the organic, natural decorations of her wedding, she doesn’t expect her human sunflowers to have surprised her with a flight to Joshua’s land.

Minghao. Hana. Her sister. All in that order.

Truthfully, she has never been more thankful for Hana. For a woman that only got to marry once, only to lose her husband soon after, she surely knew about wedding preparations. Everything that she had not been able to explain is now being jotted down by Yerim, seated on a bench in the corner of the flower shop, not once losing focus.

Her sister, however, despised the atmosphere—giving the excuse of going to grab something to eat before disappearing completely. Perhaps, she’s doing something she really loves doing, playing tourist and rummaging around the land of the Prince she hates so much.

However, one person fits perfectly in this boutique-like flower shop, his white t-shirt something simplistic for him, but the brown pants reaching his waist and the beige cardigan something to remember. His hair moves thanks to his hand, picking up another bouquet of flowers—roses, this time around—, smelling them, and putting them down.

“How’s the family, Minghao?” She asks, far more comfortable with him than she was four years ago. Minghao raises his head then, giving one of those smiles that make his cheeks plumper before shaking his head.

“Mom and dad love the retirement; I can tell you.” Minghao whispers, the adoration in his voice not making her jealous. She wishes she had a relationship like that with her parents, but over everything, she is happy for him. “And I am absolutely thrilled to be picking up calls like crazy.”

“Those people are lucky they get to talk to you.” She says, looking at the cherry blossoms in one little vase before clearing her throat. Better swallow her pride now before he leaves. “I missed you.”

Minghao remains quiet for a few seconds, his hand rubbing against her back soon after. “I missed you, too.” He replies, a sweet lullaby when he sighs softly and goes over to pick another bouquet of flowers. “How’s Joshua?”

“The question of the day.”

“It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t ask.”

“Why?”

“Because Joshua is the reason you’re here. And you’re the reason I’m here. It’s a connection.” Minghao instructs, elbowing her side to get a few words out.

There is only so much she can take out of their relationship right now. No fights, thankfully, but the lingering voice inside her head tells her that it is not enough. Spending hours in his bed, twisting and turning, breathing out his name like a mantra, letting him kiss her until her lips ache isn’t exactly what she imagined for a lover. Conversation, silence even, can be even better at times.

“Ah…alright, I guess. We haven’t had a big fight in a while.” She says, letting her fingers play with the flowers as she walks sideways, followed by Minghao. “But there’s this lingering feeling that tells me there’s something he is hiding from me.”

“How so?” Minghao asks, studying her expression as she speaks. She will never understand how observant he is.

She stops on her tracks, Minghao’s chest colliding against her back and making the two of them stumble a bit. His hands wrap around her waist, keeping her in place as they both apologize at the same time. When he lets go of her, perhaps a bit nervous at the same time, she can’t help but chuckle. “Well, I—I discovered some diaries in his bookshelf. His. Like seven. The moment I mentioned them to him,” A snap of her fingers has Minghao looking down at her hand, the rose-gold band making a wild appearance. “Boom, he was trying to shut me up. Whenever I bring it up, I end up…” She pushes her lips together, not wanting to say much.

“You two end up fucking.”

“Minghao!”

“What, can’t a Lady fuck?” Minghao questions, laughter shaking her when the man shakes his head. “But that’s not something he should be doing to shut you up. Tell him that.”

“But what if it’s nothing?”

“Then, why wouldn’t he want to tell you?”

“Ugh, Minghao.” Pressing her index and middle finger to her temples, she sighs. “You need to stop making sense. You are too intelligent for my own good.”

His tan skin glows under the rare sunlight when he chuckles, shining brightly when he shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m just trying to be a good friend. That’s all I can do.” Though, the last sentence seems to have something else to do with them. She breathes in deeply, biting her bottom lip when Minghao rubs one thumb against her cheek, once, before pinching her cheek. “Check those diaries, or get it out of him. I don’t trust it.”

“Don’t you trust it or him?” She asks, trying to bring a smile up her face but Minghao shuts himself up.

“I think you know the answer.” He finalizes. Instead, he turns to the set of flowers. “Maybe we should go for white flowers for your bouquet? Since the wedding is going to be yellow themed and all. Bring some contrast—”

###

August 10th. One year ago.

The picture was flawless in her head. One of those dreams that she can’t recall if had been a reality or were just part of her imagination. Joshua, the new boy in the school, would fall so head over heels for her one day that he’d kiss the ground she laid upon. He’d make a rose out the words he told her. He’d turn chivalry into his way of speaking, love her for who she truly was, with so much adoration that each year would be stronger. Each and every single year, they’d grow into a sweet tune of comfort that could only come with so much love that she’d feel at ease. Not complete, for that was all her doing, but something of the like of that.

Then, years later, she should have imagined that there were risks to take with such a happy ending. Seated on that spacious desk, with Joshua fast asleep on the bed, she uses the light of her phone to illuminate all seven diaries. Three in the morning and a good reader, she thinks she can get through them—or, at least, skim through the most important stuff—, before he wakes up. It’s that sense of craziness and curiousness that bleeds out now that Minghao is back to her land that she truly feels like she needs to act upon the words he says.

The first few readings are cute. Joshua at fourteen, a bit dreamy eyed, a ton of stupid, and clearly not in love with anyone. She even finds herself trying not to laugh at some of those, at the notes he wrote on paper for his love for music, and all of the like.

Though, when Joshua turns sixteen, everything changes…and it’s not the presence of someone like her that does it.

Heejin comes up a lot in the first few pages. Beautiful, delicate, daughter of a businessman Heejin who owns a bunch of hospitals. Long dark hair, a beautiful smile, and carefree nature. Heejin who stole his first kiss. Heejin who went out on a date with him. At first, she believes that this truly comes with the passage of time. So what if Joshua had a little thing when he was a teen with Heejin? Now they’re much older, still friends, but he has been in a relationship for so long—

Second book, Joshua is seventeen. He has his first time with Heejin.

Third book, Joshua starts his relationship with her and it’s at this moment that she can’t stand reading that woman’s name—

“I wonder if I will ever feel like how I felt with Heejin with her.”

Joshua tends to make a lot of mistakes on his diaries, scraping them over with lines before continuing, but this one line came with so much confidence that she finds herself looking for more. That’s only the third book, there needs to be more.

Her eyes itch by the time it’s five in the morning, going through the fourth diary and feeling tears welding up quickly. Joshua speaks about not getting over Heejin, speaks about the uncertainty of his feelings—writes his name down with what seems to be love, initials and all, thinks of her as beautiful. As the most beautiful. Lusts and loves, adores and worships. Joshua’s goddess has always been Heejin, and it only further intensifies the feeling of hatred inside of her when she continues reading.

It’s by the sixth book that she realizes Joshua does not only love Heejin, but he also started seeing her again on the 8th of October, last year.

Seeing her like he would when he was younger.

Even better, now he’s wiser, a bigger liar, a bigger asshole.

She doesn’t know what takes over her, but she questions a lot of things. How dare he? First and foremost. How dare he take her first kiss, her first time, her entire train of thought? Make her lose her dreams, concentrate on him, lead him on as the front-man while she was in the background? How dare he write a hundred texts to her saying how much he missed her, how he wanted to kiss her, how she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid his eyes on, when he had always wanted Heejin?

How dare he keep bringing Heejin to every event? And how does Heejin even dare ask her for updates on her wedding preparations when she has seen it all? Seen the man she is about to marry fall so deeply in love with her that he’d risk a long lasting relationship just to be with her again, that he’d use her just to get over her, just to get over the fact that Heejin wanted to be free and while that was what made him fall for her, it’s also what kept them apart?

How dare he say that he had written hundreds and hundreds of pages about the beauty of her when there is only two?

The chair clanks against the floor when she stands up, abruptly, taking those two pages and crumpling them at the same time that she hears Joshua gasp away.

“Babe, what are you—?”

He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence, the ball of paper ending up in between his lips as he fidgets to get away from her, whining in the process. “Shut the fuck up, I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit.” For the first time, she forgets she is a Lady. Tonight, she is someone sleep-ridden and heartbroken. Enough tears had been dropped for this man. “Thank you for those two little fucking pages in your diaries about Heejin, I very much appreciate my goddamned fiancé being head over heels for someone else.”

Joshua gets the crumpled paper out of his mouth, throwing it to the side as he stands up. “I can’t believe you read them—” And above all, there is a bit of resentment in his tone. “What about my privacy?”

“What about my dignity?” She asks, tears brimming her vision, but she won’t let them drop again. “You and your best friend have been having fun behind my back, but that’s not the worst part—you’ve used me to get over her.”

“I—I didn’t use you!” Joshua tells her, extending his hands forward before sighing. “Babe, can we just talk about this? I swear I didn’t use you.”

“Don’t swear.”

“But, I really do swear—”

“Don’t swear!” She screams, her throat hurting at the ripping motions of her vocal cords before shaking her head. “Don’t swear when I know it’s a lie—”

“Everything with Heejin has always been impossible—”

Yet, he still wants it. It has always been her. “So, you decided to be with me instead? I was the second choice?”

“No, God—” Joshua says, lowering his weight until he is kneeling in front of her. Never had he kneeled for anyone, a Prince above all, not even for his proposal, but now that he has been caught, he’s crawling like an ant. “I’m so…so sorry.” Kisses scattered across her thighs, enough to have her eyes closing tightly.

How many times has he done this for her?

“You were always the first choice! I just…I didn’t know how to…You…You were so in love with me, I didn’t know how to react.”

“So, instead of telling me you didn’t feel the same, you went on and cheated on me.” This time around, she pushes at his shoulders, soft enough to pull away from him before giving a few steps back. Her fingers wrap around that band, the one that she had been so doubtful to put on, and for a reason. “Take your ring and never talk to me again, Joshua Hong.”

“Hey, no, no—!” Joshua says, for the first time in his life lifting his voice, tears clouding his vision when he reaches for her wrist. “Don’t leave me, babe, you have given me everything.”

“And you gave me shit in return.” She finishes, shaking her head as she rushes out of that door. She can hear footsteps behind her, quickened, but she moves with the need to breathe. If she doesn’t get out of there as soon as possible, get on a plane and go back to her land, her lungs will contract so badly they will stop working—

When she reaches the entrance, she doesn’t hear Joshua rushing behind her anymore. He has stopped searching, stopped running, and it doesn’t surprise her.

It was never her he had been looking for.

###  

December 22nd. Eight months ago.

The only time she has gone out of her room since arriving from Joshua’s land has been to grab pen and paper.

In fairytales, when a member of the Royal family locks themselves up in their rooms, it’s for a Prince to find them. What a surprise, it is, that she has locked herself to avoid anyone seeing her after making a fool of herself with that man for so long. The first few days, her Mother complained about Joshua calling her and telling her that she had broken off the engagement, calling her stupid for even letting go of such a man. Chivalry is dead, she said, and she believes it may be. With the passage of time, the only people that tried to get to her were Hana, her sister and Minghao. Only Hana managed to greet her, for she didn’t have the ability to face those who had seen her such in love with a man like that.

The pen glides across the paper with ease, her utmost desire coming to life now that she has become a mess of reading and writing. She knows what she wants, knows that it isn’t what she had. Being Joshua’s plus one had never been her thing, but the parties before and the pleasantries were much worse. This time around, she lets those professional words and charisma that she had been taught speak for herself, opting out of the Duchess position.

Perhaps, no one will care. It’s a certainty that not a lot of people remember her anymore, but she doesn’t want to be a Royal anymore. She will live here as long as she can before moving on to something else. That’s as much as she knows, but it will be more difficult once the news goes along. With one final movement of her wrist, she signs the letter, putting it inside an envelope before turning around to look at Hana standing by the door.

With her hands interlocked in front of her, Hana looks at her with worry. “Don’t mind it,” She says, standing up and letting her pajama pants drag against the flooring. Fuck all those dresses she used to wear. “I personally asked for you not to be fired. I know you need the job.”

“I—I won’t go anywhere if you don’t go.” Hana says, voice much stronger than intended before cowering onto herself. “You’re like my daughter, I can’t leave you now that you’re all saddened—”

“Ah-ha.” She tuts, moving her index finger from side to side before giving her the envelope. “I am not going anywhere without you. I’ll see what I can sort out for us with the money I have saved until I can give us the life we deserve. No more of this bullshit we have gone through.”

“Language.”

“Well, I am not going to be a Lady for much longer so…” Once again, she drags herself inside her bed, her home for the past few months, plopping her thumping head down on the pillow before smiling dizzily. Hana opens the door to the bedroom, and she watches the shorter woman about to leave until she asks her. “Hana?”

“Yes, sweetie?” Hana retorts, turning around with a much more dulcet expression than the worried one she had sported earlier.

“Will I ever feel better?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Hana says, taking the brief time to go over to her to press a kiss to her forehead, speaking against the skin. “You’re only one step away from happiness.”

“How about a hundred?”

“One big step, then.” Hana concludes, moving over to the door and closing it with some last few words. “But closer than you were before, honey.”

###

August 15th. Present day.

She has figured out that not a lot of people look up at her window to see if she’s there in that damned castle. It’s as though once she became an invisible matter, no one cared.

Books read, words written, and she still has a lot of work to catch up with. While locked in that room, she has managed to do something different with her life—past the drama that followed her departure from her title, and some speech through the walls to be able to stay for a few months while she gets her life sorted out, a new light has appeared in her life. Not that new, if she’s honest, she has always imagined herself doing something like this, but being a teacher’s assistant in one of the educational spots in the land wasn’t exactly out of her mind even when she was a Duchess. It’s tiring, revising tests is starting to worsen her vision, but it’s so worth it.

Most of the time, she spends it by the window, seated on the straight couch there, legs extended as she feels the weather of the day bask her. Today, it’s awfully gloomy for her land, fog coming up to people’s faces and blending them in when they enter the castle. None of them stare at the opened curtains of her window, neither do they care about her existence. With a sigh, she returns to the task at hand, revising one more test before she gets lost in the real dream that had always been part of her.

Studying history, technically, as a career.

Honesty is the best policy and she knows she got this job, partly, because she used to be a member of the Royal family. She still is, in what blood consists of when pumping against her arteries and keeping her alive, but she no longer holds that sense of pride on it. It’s been months since she has last seen her sister, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she needs to heal. Become the woman that would be powerful enough to eat the world alive, contrary to her brittle self.

Signing herself for a university interview feels odd. It’s been a while since she has been out in the world, and perhaps, she doesn’t miss it as much as she makes herself believe. She had put herself out there too many times before, fired by the bullets that ripped straight to her heart and made her recoil to herself. What are the odds of everything going alright if she tries again?

When she looks down the window, she sees two figures that she misses deeply. Her sister, whose hair is longer, sporting an all-black outfit that makes her look both professional and youthful, lips tainted a deep red. Minghao, by her side, is speaking to her as she rushes towards the entrance, holding an envelope on her hands that she can only imagine is something for her Mother. Nonetheless, Minghao is left behind, enough for her to inspect him from afar.

Minghao’s hair is much longer than remembered, a green shirt under a gray suit that somehow looks great sported by him. From a distance, she can see him inspecting around, from the gardens to the entrance, to the people bustling around before looking up. His eyes connect directly to hers, the first person on the passing days turned months of her solitude, on lockdown.

Had his lips always looked like petals of roses? She questions herself, watching him purse his lips as he lifts his hand to wave at her softly. Glasses cover his eyes for the most part, tainted thanks to petrichor, but he sees her. Knows exactly where to get her, texts ignored by her as a way to put the pieces of her heart together and he waited.

She doesn’t wave back, instead resting her hand against the window, tapping her fingers against the surface as if she was able to touch him. Minghao had always made her feel better, no different in the way a smile sneaks up on her features and sits there to stay.

The man mouths, pointing at the place he is standing by: “Want to come down?” She reads, concentrating on the flower on his lips, the noir poem of his existence that somehow has turned dulcet.

Though, she is not ready, shaking her head in hopes of slowing down the process of Minghao getting too close to her. She still needs time. “Not today.” She says, lips parted enough for him to understand every word before he nods.

“Some other time?” He breathes out, only understood by her when he repeats it again and without the hint of doubt, she replies:

“Definitely.”

With that, Minghao sighs deeply, a cloud of smoke gathering by his nose before giving a few steps forward, opening the weighty doors of the castle and closing them behind him. Her heart is racing by the time she looks at the empty spot he left behind, suddenly much brighter than the gloomy day.

###

Minghao knows where she is, and he makes it known.

Somehow, studying feels even worse when there is pressure on her shoulders—trying to get into university like a normal student, not like the Duchess she used to be. With her back hunched, she sits on her bed, readying herself for the moment three weeks from now when she’ll have to face the world again, and not only that, get judged by it again, but for something else, her intelligence, perhaps.

Breathing the answers into the air about this certain question, she stops when she realizes she has forgotten someone’s name. It passes her enough to have her closing her eyes tightly, cursing herself for not being able to remember. She used to be so good at this, but it seems like she has lost some of the talent she had, or the confidence that had once been within her when it came to history.

Two taps at her window make her lift her gaze, heart shaking in fear of what it could be. Birds passing by, perhaps, her room is high enough in this castle for it not to be reached by anyone, but the persistent sound follows her even minutes later, something thrown at her window before leaving her in silence, repeating the action only seconds after. It’s only after the fourth time the noise comes by that she stands up, anger raking through her when she goes to the window.

Opening the window, she looks around, lowering her weight the slightest to be able to inspect the sides. Left, nothing. Right, nothing. The castle looks the same as it did earlier, birds gone to other portions of the garden, but just as she’s about to push herself back inside her room, she hears her name being called, a tone not dulcet enough, but somehow warm in the way he speaks.

When she looks down, she is not surprised to see Minghao. Well, part of her really is—whenever he has the time, he makes himself be known, reminding her that he is there for her. Notes left under her door, that she reads when she gets the time. Books that he places outside of her door, never once knocking, but mouthing to her from the window to check the outsides of her room. It has been like this for days, perhaps even weeks, she has lost the passage of time when it comes to him.

She leans her weight against the windowsill, quirking an eyebrow at him. “What were you throwing at my window, Minghao?” She asks, not a single tone of annoyance in her voice anymore, and Minghao takes this moment to cross his arms behind his back, the yellow sweater on his body highlighted because of this. Yellow has always been her favorite color.

“Pebbles.”

“You could’ve broken my window, then.”

“If that’s what it takes to get you out of there, I will.” Minghao shrugs his shoulders, always too honest for his own good, and that’s what she adores the most about him. He pushes one of his legs forward and back, a dance of nervousness that only goes past his lips when he decides to let it go. “It’s been months. I want to see you.”

But she doesn’t feel quite ready. What if he suddenly realizes that she has played with time for far too long, that each step she takes she doubts, that right now, she doesn’t know where she starts or ends, or if she even started at all? “I’m isolating myself until I get my mind together—”

“I understand that, but—” Minghao lifts his hand to cloud the sun that basks on his face, making him glow. He has always had that with him, that’s for sure. “I could help you if you’d just let me.”

She chuckles at that, interlocking her fingers as she speaks to him. “Why?”

Minghao doesn’t hesitate, and that’s something to envy. Hardships of her life, all the pain and tears, suddenly seem to be left in the past when he smiles softly at her, like he does, never quite showing his teeth and yet, saying everything she needs to hear. “Because I miss you.” He tells her, loud enough for the people around them to hear, or perhaps, no one cares about them. It’s better if they don’t.

“I miss you, too.” She breathes out, wanting nothing more than for it to be heard. She misses one of her closest friends, her sister’s best friend, her confidante. Over everything, she mixes Xu Minghao. “…We’ll see each other someday, I promise.”

“Someday soon?”

“Sooner than you think.” She tells him, lowering her gaze to avoid his penetrating gaze. “I’ll text you…ah, we can text and sort something out.”

“I’m okay with that.” Minghao says, though, when she looks at him again, he is looking down at his watch. “I have a meeting right now, so I have to go. Check outside your bedroom, okay?”

Patience follows after him as he moves away from the castle, but she isn’t quite as patient anymore. Scrambling to close the window, she walks over to the door, opening it in one swift motion, being met by one of the workers in the castle, holding up a tray filled with her favorite food, two red apples reminiscent of him, and of course, a note from him.

“Until we meet again – Xu Minghao.”

She can’t wait.

###

Never was it her virtue to wait for the right time, the perfect moment. This time around, it isn’t any different. Instead of waiting for the day of her university interview, she texts Minghao much sooner—asking him how his day went, thanking him for all the pleasantries, gratefulness above all, and when he answers, there is nothing that stops the conversation.

It was only a matter of time until she decided to meet him again, and when he said he planned on having a picnic meeting with her—not a date, mind her—she thought it was perfect. With the moonshine draping against the curtains of the castle’s living room, the world in silence as it’s well over dinnertime, she tugs at the fabric of her dress. It has been a while since she has worn one of those, even when she hated them to bits, but this one makes her feel at ease. One that Hana made for her when visiting her sisters, the time away giving her inspiration for her favorite Duchess. Short, yet flowy, in a daylight sky blue that has her feeling a bit too bright for the night.

Everything on her is much cheaper than what she was set to wear as Duchess, but the movement of her feet is more lightweight the more she reaches the door. Minghao had said he was waiting for her outside, but each step falls harsher than the last. Not only will she meet with Minghao, who has very much grown onto himself as a person, physically and mentally, but it is the first time she will be out of the castle in months.

Maybe, she should stop.

Shame is an emotion she tries not to feel, but her life has been set, plotted, written and read according to what other people said. With her hand connecting to the doorknob of the entrance door, a few guards sparing her glances before looking away, she wonders what people would say. The Duchess is out again. The ex-Duchess. The one that left Prince Joshua for a supposed cheating scandal. Maybe, too old to study in judging eyes, or too privileged to do so.

It almost makes her stay, but she tugs at the door before she could even think in any other way.

There, in the usual spot that gives her a clear view of him from the window, is Xu Minghao. A businessman by now, owner of very big companies, an heir that knew how to divide his life perfectly. With his back turned towards her, he only notices her when the door closes, the moon making perfect shadows on his face. Maturity had taken over his features, his hair falling down his forehead, and surprisingly, a full smile appears on his face when she nears him, arms taking a mind of their own to wrap around Minghao’s slim frame.

Never had a hug felt this good, as if she belongs in these arms—unjudged, unashamed, without a hardship in this violin tune of line that only dizzies her. Minghao doesn’t waste much time to wrap his arms around her body, hiding his face on the juncture of her neck before breathing in deeply. His eyelashes flutter against her skin, as if taking all of her in, the tickling sensation nicely welcomed when she tugs at the fabric of his white sweater, tucked inside a pair of stylish, painted jeans, with figures that she hasn’t quite detailed.

“I’m so happy you’re back.” He breathes out, taking her face in between his hands when pulling away and, as always, his thumb rubs against her cheek, pinching it soon after when he lets go.

“I never left.” The confession weights with guilt on her chest, because she did. Months of not talking to him just for the sake of healing, when he could’ve been there by her side while she did so. “…So, picnic time?”

“Yes.” Minghao replies, extending his arm for her to take before walking side to side, the fabric of his sweater rubbing against her bare forearm. “Read the books I gave you?”

“All of them.”

“What did you think about—?”

Lips pushed together to keep himself silent, Minghao is not a man of many words—not until he is interested, and what a surprise it is that not a single moment in that lake, as they gave bites of each other’s foods, he seemed to stop himself from talking. It’s at that moment that she realizes she is necessary for some people in this life, and likewise with him, or rather, not necessary…wanted, desired, wished to be there.

There’s no better feeling.

###

Water always makes her feel better. In all forms and shapes. Knowing there is something deeper than what she feels, something stronger than her and yet, feeling so weak against her fingertips, gives her the force to know she has been through worse than waiting for the response of a university. Though, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t spend most of her time helping the maids around the castle, trying to find something to do that distracts her before she goes absolutely crazy.

Hana has always been a bit strict when it came to certain fabrics, and only now she realizes how difficult it is to wash a gown by hand, much more her Mother’s, that seems to be never-ending as four people, including her, try to get it washed. She knows Mother won’t use it again, but she doesn’t have the heart to remind that to the groups of people working for her. It would only make them feel worse, and she’s there to feel better.

The laundry machine roars behind them, though she pays more attention to the faint sound of music playing in the background. Water drips down her hands when she rubs the fabric against itself, trying to get rid of any stain or smell, though there is a party in between the staff. Candles lit up, cake sliced, a song too upbeat for her danced by her workers. Some are buzzed, even in this early moment of the day, for it’s the ex-Duchess’ birthday.

Her birthday and it doesn’t quite feel like it.

In the past, she liked her birthday, but today, she feels nostalgic. Only getting older, but not getting anywhere—well, she’s in the process, but it feels like her growth will last forever, and she’s too impatient to wait for it. Smelling like smoke, detergent and soap, she thanks the few people that gave her such pleasantries, that congratulated her as if they were part of her family, because they are. Careless, she isn’t, and even though the smile on her face is weakened, it means well.

One day, she’s going to hold onto every birthday as if it’s the last—one never knows, but somehow, today, celebrating is not in her vocabulary. It hasn’t been in a while.

“I think someone is looking for you.” Hana says, already reaching for her hands with a towel to wipe them away from the soap and water. She widens her eyes, unaware of why Hana is so rushed to get her out of the laundry room and towards the living room. “Oh my, darling, why are you this untidy?”

“I was doing laundry, Hana, that’s why.” She replies, looking down at her black tank top and leggings, not looking like how she used to be on a normal day, always prepared for an event. “Why? I get to be comfortable on my birthday—”

Hana stops her as they are reaching the living room, turning around to release her hair from its confines on a ponytail, tugging her shirt down to show more of her cleavage and using that towel to wipe all the droplets of water from her body. “Because you will want to look good for this visitor.”

She scoffs. “I don’t want to look good for anyone other than myself.”

Hana stops rubbing at her skin then, lifting her hands in surrender before looking at her pointedly. “Okay, look like a mess, but when you do regret looking like one in front of this visitor, I am going to say that I told you so.”

“If that happens, have my heart.” Her hand extends on top of the left portion of her ribcage, moving forward with her slippers sliding against the tiles, resounding obnoxiously as she reaches the main area by the entrance. Spacious enough to be considered a house of its own, but the closer she gets, the more noticeable the person by the door becomes.

She stumbles back slightly, though the smile on her face is more taken aback than angry. Minghao stands there, a bouquet of sunflowers in between his hands and a small black bag holding tightly onto his fingers, turned white under the pressure of his gift. With a deep green turtleneck, a leather jacket and a pair of ripped, oversized, light-washed jeans, he looks more like the birthday person than she does.

“Minghao? What are you doing here?” She asks, once again retreating at the sound of her slippers. Fuck, once they’re wet, they sound like they’re smacking against the floor far more than usual. Still, she keeps walking forward, Minghao giving her a once-over that goes unnoticed, mostly. “Not that you’re not welcome, but you said you had a meeting with your PR team.”

“I did, but now I’m here.” Minghao finalizes, giving the bouquet of sunflowers to her before she looks down at it. One note reads her name, written in his expert handwriting, a brief ‘happy birthday’ wit a heart making her feel more at ease than ever. Who cares if she looks a little bit unprepared? “Happy birthday.” He says, one arm wrapping around her shoulder to rest his cheek against her head. She chuckles at that, enveloping her arm around his taut waist to take the warmth of him, the hug sideways and yet, meaningful.

“Thank you. It hasn’t been exactly the happiest, but it hasn’t been sad either.” She conquers, pulling away from him before pointing to the kitchen. “Want me to serve you some coffee?”

“Do you have tea?”

“I do.”

“Let’s have tea while we wait for the cake I ordered for you.” Minghao replies, going after her towards the kitchen. Though her grin is perceptible, she can’t help but groan.

“Goodbye to my night of sleep with the amount of sugar I’ve eaten today, and it’s not even night.” She says, going over to the shelves to look through her repertoire of tea. “Black?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’, the chair creaking under his weight when he splays his gift on the island, unable to stand straight. “But, before you start, I brought you something—”

She stops then, moving towards him before taking the black bag in between her hands. Gifts are not something she enjoys regularly, much more because she was bathed in them instead of being given sentimentalism, but from Minghao, she finds it hard to deny that she is head over heels with the idea of him giving her something.

“Thank you.” She says, opening the bag as she speaks. “It must be heavy; your fingers are all red.” Though, her words come to a halt when she gets a canvas out of the bag, the plastic falling on the floor when she inspects it in front of her line of vision. Blue merges into a moonlit sky, railings of a balcony crooked yet enigmatic, strokes made from his heart and soul, a pool underneath, the doors open ajar. She knows this place.

Minghao explains it for her when she can’t find words to say, reminiscent of the first time they met. He was, what, eighteen or nineteen then? “That’s the place in which we met,” Minghao whispers, pointing at the canvas. “Well, where you met me. I always saw you around the castle, but you never paid much attention.”

How could she not? She will always blame herself for not getting to know Minghao sooner. Still, she lifts her gaze, unable to voice out what she truly feels. Adoration. “Why didn’t you just try to talk to me?”

He shrugs, pulling the sleeves of his jacket down before taking it off, draping it on the island in the process. “Way back then, I thought you’d never connect with me. We wouldn’t be, well, good friends or anything, in my head.” Minghao tries to come out with proper answers, crossing one leg over the other. “I am glad I woke up that night.”

“Because you met me?”

“That,” Minghao says, resting his hand on his palm, his index and middle finger parting on his cheek. “And that you noticed me.”

“You painted this?” She asks, only to receive a nod from him. Looking at it once again, she can’t believe he remembers the balcony of his cousin’s house that perfectly. He moved away from there years ago, after all. “Minghao, I am the lucky one for getting to know you, not the other way around.”

“Ah, perception. Another thing of life that is relative.”

“…There you go.” She chuckles, knowing fully well that said words belong to Minghao. Always thinking ahead of what is in front of him, so realistic that it almost becomes complex to understand. She puts the canvas down on the island, taking the time to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her chin on his shoulder. His hands hesitate to rest on her waist, getting closer and closer until he engulfed her completely. “I’ll put it up in my room. Thank you.”

The tea that brews later will never be as warm as his presence, as his smile, the way he seems to remember things about her that she even forgot telling him. Xu Minghao is not only a realist, but the only reality that she is happy of living.

###

While she had never noticed just how loved Minghao was around not only businesspeople, but with normal individuals as well, it seemed like the world had put him on a pedestal. A deserved one, at that. Earning himself the opportunity of a documentary for his strenuous, gorgeously planned work in the business industry as one of the richest heirs in the entire continent. Not that she was told beforehand, but when Minghao texted her to join him while he recorded around the land, she took her textbook and followed after Minghao’s staff for the rest of the day.

The sun beams down on him, in the middle of the bustling city with the cameraman, Jeon Wonwoo, on one knee as he tries to get a good shot, the rest of the team working with the lights, with the microphone, making sure that everything Minghao wears is still on place. The high-waisted striped pants and the button down a standard for fashion just by looking at it, yet so incredibly creative that she finds her breath stolen the moment she saw him earlier. Never had she been able to look at Minghao this closely, or this sentimentally, when he raises his head and answers one of the questions one of Wonwoo’s team has as he walks, showing the land that had welcomed his business after he moved in here.

Small as a land, but productive for him as a businessman.

This time around, Minghao doesn’t have a camera hanging from his neck and she has long forgotten the textbook that rests in between her arm and her ribcage, walking behind the team to hear Minghao’s answers, must of them have been simplistic enough, something for him to showcase how it was to move in here, how he grew internationally, what he wants for his future and what he imagined in the past. All equaling to something Minghao could respond easily, his own photographer taking pictures of him from afar for the previews of the documentary.

He props his sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose, quirking an eyebrow when Wonwoo, instead of one of his team, is the one to ask him a question: “What is the most important lesson you have learned in your life?”

Minghao giggles a bit to himself, as if a million thoughts crossed his head and he couldn’t pick one. When that smile settles on his face, she details him. Rosy lips and brown eyes that capture her when the apples of his cheeks become prominent and he answers: “Be patient. Work hard for what you want. What is meant to be for you, will come to you even if it’s the last day of your life.”

The way he looks over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling behind those expensive yet flimsy pink sunglasses, tells her a million things and none at all. Not that she minds it, this uncertainty doesn’t dull in insecurity, but rather blinks with curiousness. Her heart, against her ribcage, begs for an answer…but maybe, in another life, she’d let that one voice inside of her speak with confidence. This time around, she knows better than to ponder, than to hang onto that smile that makes her feel a thousand things all at the same time. For once, she doesn’t think Minghao as a friend that she wishes to keep by her side, but she sees him as something else. Attractive, for once, a pull so strong that she finds herself stopping when he looks ahead once again, taking the questions like a champion.

Bullshit.

This is absolute bullshit.

She’s not this kind of fool, but why is it that she now realizes that Minghao has one of the best eyes she has ever seen and that, when with him, this feeling of attraction doesn’t make her feel disgusted? It doesn’t make her feel brittle or insecure, but the experience tells her not to give that step forward.

She doesn’t like Minghao. It can’t be.

She’s not able to like anyone after what happened to her.

Whatever this is, it isn’t what she is thinking. What’s the use of falling if it’s not going to be real? Minghao was just looking over his shoulder, there is no way he would have waited for her—

Love never waits. People never wait. They’d rather have someone than not have anyone at all.

Besides, it’s not like Minghao is not a handsome man. There is no way that his heart kept with only one person for this long.

Yeah, she’s just assuming, and assuming is never good. Minghao has his heart well reserved, given to someone that she doesn’t know, and she can’t feel that way for someone who has treated her so fairly, such like a friend. She doesn’t need another reason for a headache, not when her life is sorted out or halfway there. Love is a waste of time, just a touch of lips, souls and bodies that brings to nothing at all. A game that no one wins.

With that in mind, she keeps walking, listening to Minghao and feeling each portion of her heart ripple with electricity. He’s a charming man, she’s not the only person that sees it, and definitely she isn’t thinking of him in any other way that isn’t as friends.

###

The first test in university is always the worst. Just seeing her classmates’ grades has her throat getting dry, seeing all the people who have failed—and those who have barely passed is just enough of a headache to have her closing the laptop momentarily, only to have the person beside her sighing deeply, taking a seat next to her on her bed to open the laptop again, pressing on the spacebar with rapidness as he wraps one arm around her.

Minghao is not her leverage—she has learned never to lean on someone, but what a blessing it is to feel him next to her when she is at her worst. Woken up at night because of the worries for this one text, he’d always reply to her midnight worries, albeit a bit annoyed at times, but caging it in because it’s her. She’ll never understand how he does it, being this nice and not asking for anything in return.

“Come on, whatever the grade is, it’s not a definition of who you are.” Minghao says, pressing his index finger to her adjacent temple, looking for her name through the masses of people in the picture. “Besides, what you learned will stay here and that’s what will keep on with you. No matter how many people did better or worse than you, you still learned, and that’s the important part.”

She lays her head on his chest, the fabric of his simple shirt rubbing against her cheek when she breathes out through her nose. “Yeah, but I studied so hard.”

“That’s what matters.” Minghao says, leaning his weight forward before pointing towards the laptop screen. “Besides, you’re the best grade in your class.”

The sound of those words shadow everything that has gone wrong in her life, light like him, in the way he says it so plainly but means the world to her. She lifts her gaze then, tears that she planned to drop gone in a second when she takes his face in between her hands, her head still pressed to his chest when she pulls his face down to look straight into his eyes, showing a lot of her teeth in a smile that plasters her happiness into the air. “Minghao, are you kidding me?!”

“I would never.” Minghao smiles back, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze to her eyes, clouds of pink rain scattering across the apples of his cheeks and if she is not mistaken, the lullaby in the ballad of Minghao’s heart turns into an upbeat tune. Something that she would hear in a club or in a party, rushed beyond her understanding, making her raise her eyebrows when she lets go of her face and his face stops flushing.

“Your heart is racing.” She says, awfully aloof in her deliver and Minghao can only let out one of his nervous giggles, nodding in the process.

“I am usually good at controlling my heartbeat.” He confesses, one of his hands resting on her shoulder, rubbing circles there yet not moving her from her spot. “But I am not doing so great today.”

“Why do you have to control your heartbeat?”

“…Well,” Once again, he smiles, this time around pulling himself away from her to take one of the cushions on her bed, playing with the fabric, fisting it in between his hands. “I normally have to do it around you.”

Does Minghao have to control his heartbeat around her? Why would his heart race on the first place?

At the mention of such words, she opts not to take the answer out of him. If Minghao said what was possible that existed between them, she wouldn’t know how to act. Her gut tells her to step forward and place his hand on her chest, show him that it has been weeks since her heart has started to go crazy for him. Instead, she goes for the easier route, the one that isn’t accompanied by heartbreak.

“Either way.” Minghao finishes, pushing his weight off her bed before clapping his hands together. “Now that we know you’re a genius, we should go and grab something to eat, don’t you think?”

Is that something else falling from his eyes? That glint that she has always talked about, always gushed about internally, perhaps it could mean something…just like it could mean nothing at all. Who knows? She doesn’t answer.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

###

Three months pass and her heart doesn’t want to shut up. It dances to its will whenever it sees Minghao, just like it does now that he is seated across from her in the sofa of her new mansion. His hands extend on each side of his body, inspecting the place with certainty, with the eye of a critic because he was the one that helped her the most with the decorations. All props should go to him.

Hana has her own room, locked away and excited to be able to start anew and not have to work for anyone in the process. Not that Mother was too pleased about her decision, but she could not bring herself to care, not when Minghao nods to himself and hums in the process, a big smile taking over his face.

“It’s perfect for you.”

The rows of bookshelves, the vintage atmosphere, the delicacy that meets both feminine tones and real masculine ones, they all come together with pinches of yellow, her favorite color. Minghao doesn’t notice it, the way she isn’t even inspecting the mansion but looking at him instead, taking the seat beside him and placing her arm over his abdomen, taut and contracting thanks to the action.

“And it’s all thanks to you.”

“No, no. I helped you decorate,” Minghao corrects, turning to look at her before sighing. “This was all your doing. You bought the mansion. You planned what you wanted. This is years-worth of dreaming given to you by yourself.”

Always finding the perfect words, Minghao manages to engrave himself inside her head. Not that he has ever left, the cause of her dreaming, also the cause of her absolute denial. It’s in the fact that she fears getting hurt that keeps her away, that ignores the way his eyes trail down to her lips from time to time, how he stops himself each time is beyond her. Maybe, he senses more than what she actually realizes, and it’s at this point that she notices that Minghao won’t ever talk, do anything, even remotely speak about what he may feel about her if she doesn’t get it out of him.

She has known him for years, and never had she felt this…lukewarm. She used to think that love was meant to be feral, rip at her, bite at her heart, make her feel heartbroken but in love at the same time. It’s what she saw, it’s what she believed in. However, with Minghao everything has always been different. She doesn’t hate herself in the process of liking him, neither does she think of herself as less when being around him. All the kisses she has given in the past seem to be forgotten when she tries to think of giving him a kiss.

If she has to die, she wants her last kiss to be with Xu Minghao. Those petal-like lips engulfing hers to give her hope of knowing that whatever life she got to live, she made the best out of it.

Which is why, for the first time, without thinking and with an intake of breath, she whispers out the words that she had not even internalized. Certainty clouds her, it’s so full of confidence even in its mumble, that she finds herself surprised by what she feels, the way her eyes want to concentrate on everything about him.

“I like you, Minghao.”

She is a woman of words. It’s what she has read, what she has expected for her. Big confessions, grand apologies, bunch of excuses and lies, people that kiss up to her even if they don’t mean it. Minghao loves the silence of patience, waits for the right moment to let those words fall down on him like rain, his features softening, the slightest bit of surprise passing his wide eyes before he leans forward, just a breath away from her, but he stops.

He stops because he knows she likes words, and they both compromise silently at that moment.

“I’ve liked you for a long time.” He tells her, lowering his weight slightly until their lips are centimeters away from each other. “Can I kiss you?”

With a nod of her head, she realizes the difference between the kiss of love and the kiss of desire is huge. Not a lot of pressure, he seems to melt against her, softly parting his lips to relish on the sentiment more than the quickness of it all. Minghao splays his hand on her waist, bringing her closer when he uses his other hand to touch her cheek. A rub of his thumb against the skin, and a soft whisper of her name against her lips once the contact is finished.

It doesn’t take a lot of words to know then Xu Minghao loves her, and after all this time, she may say one thing…

She hates a lot of things, but she will never hate him.

#the8 scenarios #minghao scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #minghao #the8 #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #minghao au #minghao fluff #minghao angst #heir!au #duchess!au #there we go one of my best tries at modern royal!au lol

[hoodharlow]

I Know Where Tonight is Going

AN: Ya seeee it’s been forever since I written on Cal and Claudia. But hopefully it was worth the wait. Big thank you to @d-oaks​ for beta reading and editing.

Requested?: Yesss by my bby @myloverboyash​:  You dont show up on my dash anymore so I didnt see this til now but 44 with Calum! 💜🥰 [”Sorry, did that hurt?” “No, I’m just a little sore from last night.”]

Warnings: shmooooot and a hospital scene

Word Count: 4.6k words

Claudia refreshed twitter as she made her way up the steps to Calum's house. It's been over a month, yet Twitter is still in a frenzy over pictures of Calum and Claudia leaving Bad Bunny's YHLQMDLG release party. The pictures were similar to the ones from the G'Day USA Gala.

They were caught leaving the hotel where the gala was held. They left right after Calum cut the cake Mitchy ordered because Claudia had an assignment due before midnight and couldn't connect her laptop to the hotel's wifi, and her hotspot was being wonky. They were walking hand in hand to his car. They were being playful in the rain. Claudia hiked up her dress and splashed in a few puddles with her trusty Doc Martens. Calum approached her and pulled her close to him. They kissed briefly before he hoisted her over his shoulder and helped her into his car.

Somehow a paparazzo was able to sneak into the hotel's parking lot and managed to record a video of the whole thing. They were even able to zoom in when they were kissing. Her face was hidden because she wore Calum's hoodie.

A lot of fans were making up theories of who the 'hooded girl' was. Some were able to connect the dots that she was the same girl Calum left with at Taylor Swift's birthday party. Some were investigating all the pictures of the hotel 'party', but they came up empty because Claudia always knew when to get out of frame like when he was on tour while Andy recorded.

When the Miami pictures were released, Calum's fans got annoyed once more because the paps only managed to get Claudia's backside. Claudia and Calum found it funny that they didn’t notice it was Claudia. She had posted a video of herself and Gaby, Bad Bunny's girlfriend, singing along to Becky G on her Instagram story. Then Gaby posted a video of Claudia dancing on her lap, showing off the same backside the paps got. 

She locked her phone and knocked on Calum's door. She heard Calum shush Duke before he opened the door. Claudia was going to greet him, but she saw that he was on the phone. So she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. When she walked past him, he gave her ass a rough smack. 

“Ashton, Claudia’s here. We’ll see you later.” He said. He hung up without waiting for Ashton to respond. 

Claudia immediately wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you." She said softly. 

For the past two weeks Calum had been in Europe for  promo for the album that was coming out in a few hours. He was so jetlagged that didn't even remember that the album was going to drop in a few hours until Ashton reminded him of the album release party that management planned. He flew in last night, but Claudia was studying for midterms and finishing an important paper for her research methods class. He decided not to pay her a visit. 

"Missed you too." He mumbled on her lips, "How was your midterm?"

"Good, I'm mostly done with the others too. I didn't finish editing my paper last morning— more like this morning," she giggled. "So I'm going to finish it later. What time do we have to be at the venue?"

"Around eight." 

"Oh, that gives me time to nap before finishing my paper." She said to herself. She looked up at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Nap with me?"

"Of course." Calum nodded. He leaned forward and kissed her. 

He helped carry her things to his room. 

Calum subconsciously made room for her at his place. In January, he emptied a drawer for her to put some leggings or jeans for when she slept over, so she can change into something there instead of driving to her place to get ready. His argument that she could sleep an extra ten minutes before leaving. 

Now he made room in the closet for her. He cleared a shelf in there for her to store her things like her overnight bag and backpack. He hung the black bag that held her dress next to his suit. He looked back and made sure she was in bed before he tried getting a peek of her dress. All he knew was that Soni had altered the prom dress Claudia wore her senior year. 

"Cal, get in bed. You'll see the dress later." Claudia yelled from his bed.

She was in one of his shirts and a pair of bright red Calvins. He took off his shirt and tossed them to the end of bed. He climbed in and laid next to her on his side.  

Claudia laid her head on his arm,  earning a groan from him.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” She asked, lifting her head off his arm. 

“No, I’m just a little sore from last night.”

"What were you doing?"

"What I always do when I can't see you." He shrugged. It took him a second to realize how that sounded. He quickly added, "I worked out."

"Ah ha," she agreed skeptically. 

She pushed him on his back and attached herself to his side. Her head on his chest while her arm hugged his stomach and one of her legs was wedged between his. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her head, so he could play with her hair until she fell asleep. 

Calum woke up an hour into their nap. Claudia was still fast asleep at his side, so he decided to order lunch for them. Without much movement, because the slightest shift would wake her, he grabbed his phone to order their go-to orders from Sam Miguel's. 

Claudia stirred, adjusting her grip on Calum. Her hips moving ever so slightly against his thigh. She let out a breathless moan. Her face scrunched up, her mouth slightly opened as another moan escaped her lips. Calum felt a wet spot forming where she was rubbing herself against his thigh.

Unsure what she was dreaming about, Calum decided to wake her. 

"Claudia?" he gently shook her shoulder. 

"Hi," she said into his chest. She kissed the tattoo on his stomach before she sat up and stretched. "Why'd you wake me?"

"You pulled a Petunia and dry humped my leg." 

"I did no such thing."

"I'm sure your panties say otherwise." He smirked.

Claudia dropped her shoulders in defeat. "I thought it was just in my dream."

"What do you mean?" Calum asked her. He pulled her over so she straddled him.

"This is so embarrassing," she giggled to herself. She hid her face into his chest.

"Claudia, this is a judgment free place."

"I know," she sat herself back up and met his eyes. She toyed with his necklace before speaking again. "When you were playing with my hair, Ithoughtaboutridingyourfacethatresultedinasexydream."

"What? I didn't hear the last part." He had; he just wasn't sure she said what she said.

"I said I thought about riding your face that resulted in a sexy dream." 

"How?"

"Since you're sore, I was gonna ask you if I could… you know… ride you. But it got me thinking how much I missed your mouth and stuff." 

"Let's do it." Calum said too enthusiastically.

"Now?" 

He nodded eagerly. 

"I'm down to try it, but I wanna wear something sexy. I'm literally in your shirt and some boring panties." 

"As much as I love all your lingerie, nothing gets me more turned on than seeing you in my clothes. You have so many options, and you choose one of my ratty t-shirts. I don't know, it makes me feel special."

"You really want me to ride your face, huh." She giggled. "Fine."

Claudia leaned down and captured his lips. They kissed until Calum got restless. She pulled away and made her way forward.

Claudia settled above his face, holding onto the headboard as he looked up at her from between your legs with the most loving eyes.  He leaned upward, his tongue ghosting over her clothed core as he tapped the growing wet spot. She dipped her hips closer to his face, pressing her dripping core against him.

She didn't notice his fingers moved her panties out of the way, until he dipped his tongue into her.

Claudia moaned loudly, resting her head on her arm as she held onto the headboard. He brought one of his hands to her core and slipped his ring and middle finger in her. His other hand made her way to her breasts to play with her nipples.

Claudia threw her head back and moaned his name. 

“That's my pretty girl,” he groaned lowly. 

“Fuck, don’t stop, right there,” Claudia panted. She wiggled her hips on his face, riding his tongue as she came.  He sucked her clit through her high, something he's never done before, making her a moaning mess.

 “Holy shit, Cal,” she sighed breathlessly. She crab crawled back to straddle his lap.

“Told you Tumblr was right when they said I was the oral king.” He grinned proudly. 

“Don't ruin Tumblr for me."

Calum ignored her comment and pulled her down for another kiss. In a matter of seconds, Claudia wanted him again. 

“Someone’s ready for me,” he smirked as his thumb toyed with her clit.

"Shut up," she murmured against his lips. 

Having enough of his teasing touches, she sat up and slipped off her shirt and panties. Calum pushed down his sweats. Claudia climbed back to his lap and stroked him. She missed having him on her hand, feeling how hard and heavy she was able to get him. 

“Ready?” she asked. 

He nodded eagerly.

She lined herself up and coated him with her arousal. She took a deep breath and slid down his length. 

Calum moaned out, enjoying how tight she felt around him. His fingers digging into her hips. “Fuck,” he breathed, pressing his head back against the pillows as he tried to control his breathing. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

"I know." Claudia smirked at him, placing her hands on his chest. She slowly rode him, until she found a comfortable pace for them.

“Fuck, Calum,” She moaned, rolling her hips against his as he began to meet her thrustsl. His hands went to her ass as he controlled the pace Claudia rode him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “You’re beautiful.”

“Fuck, Calum, you feel so good,” she whimpered, resting herself on his chest as she lazily rode him. He pulled her lips in a rough kiss, halting his movements as he pulled away.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"A little, but I wanna get us off." She said, trying her best not to yawn.

“Claudia, you’re practically falling asleep on my cock.” He said, twisting her soft curls. “We can do this another time.”

“But you didn’t cum.”

“It’s okay, you need your rest.” 

He tried lifting her off him, but Claudia whined. “I wanna stay like this. I like you inside me, makes me feel complete.”

Calum pulled the bed’s duvet over them. He continued playing with Claudia's hair, until she dozed off. Soon after Calum matched her breathing and fell into a deep slumber, forgetting about the lunch he ordered for them. 

***

They were running late. Mostly because of Claudia. She knew she was going to get it when she decided to wear only her lace teddy as she got ready and casually dropping her makeup brushes where Calum just happened to be looking. Neither were surprised when Claudia ended up on her knees with Calum in her mouth.

"Claudia fuck," Calum sighed, hearing her make choking sounds around his cock. 

She pulled him out of her mouth and laid her tongue flat on the tip. Then she slowly swirled her tongue around it. Her nails dug into his thighs once she slipped him back in her mouth, taking him inch by inch. 

"Claudia!" Calum moaned out as he came. Neither expecting him to cum so soon. Claudia kept going. She bobbed her head, swallowing every last drop of his release. 

Claudia pushed back and smiled at Calum. "Crossing that off the list."

"What?" Calum asked. He was still hazy from getting his soul sucked.

"I always wanted to suck your dick while you're wearing a suit." She shrugged. She got up from where she was kneeling and tossed the pillow she used for her knees back on the bed. 

"And you thought now of all times to do that."

"I felt bad that you didn't cum earlier, so I decided to make it up to you." She said as she touched up her lipstick.

"By first torturing me with lingerie?"

"Your dick got sucked, no?" she giggled. She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "How was it?"

"Best head I've ever had." He said truthfully.

"Really?" she asked shyly.

Before Calum could answer his phone rang. 

"'Llo?" he answered.

"Where the fuck are you two?" Ashton yelled on the other side. 

"We're on our way." Calum said, laying back in bed. 

"You have fifteen minutes to get here or we're getting a new bass player." 

***

Calum leaned against the railing of the VIP area and overlooked the main dance floor. Claudia had her arms around her cousin as they danced with Gaby and Claudia Sulewski. He chuckled to himself, remembering how his Claudia and Claudia Sulewski made him and Fineas take a picture of them recreating the meme of the two Spider-Men pointing at each other.

He finished off his drink and drummed the railing before going back to the bar to get a refill. He ordered another beer and a water bottle for Claudia. As he waited for the drinks two men approached the bar.

"Did you see how the dress hugged her ass? You just know she likes it from behind." One of them said to the other.

"Yeah, but the skinny one next to her was hot too. The one you said seems high maintenance."

Calum immediately felt disgusted hearing them talk. He looked over to the bartender that was supposedly fixing his drink; they were leaning against the bar talking with one of the servers  that held an empty tray of food. 

"There she comes," one of them said. 

Calum looked forward to the giant mirror behind the alcohol shelves. The only person making their way to the bar was Claudia. He got up from his seat and went to her. 

"Hey!" She said linking her arm around his elbow. She looked up at him and her smile dropped. "What's wrong?"

"Those fucking shitheads were talking about you." He mumbled. 

"Oh them?" she subtly gestured to men at the bar that ogled her in plain sight. "Yeah they went up to me and la Güera when we were dancing, but we shooed them away. They're so creepy. Before they approached us, they just stared. Like what do they get out of that?"

"I can get security. They don't have the passes from management or the other executives. They're probably just influencers." He suggested. 

"Nah," She waved him off. 

Hand in hand they went back to the VIP area. Claudia went over to her cousin and the other girls. Vanessa, Claudia's cousin la Güera, is a YouTuber. Her and her best friend, Paulina, mostly run a makeup and beauty channel. 

Claudia doesn't watch her channel mainly because of Paulina. Since their freshman year of high school, they have had an underlying rivalry. They were in the same group. Paulina was even there at the baby shower a few weeks ago when Claudia dropped the bomb that Paco cheated on her. Actually she was the one that he hooked up with when he cheated, but that was a topic for another day. 

The pair of cousins weren't expecting to see each other at tonight's party. Vanessa wasn't at the baby shower, so she didn't know that Claudia was dating Calum Hood. When she showed up thanks to one of her sponsors that invited her to the party, she was pleasantly surprised to see her there. 

When Vanessa told Claudia that Paulina wasn't with her, Claudia nearly did a backflip out of excitement. She even asked Calum if she could bring her to the VIP area where they were. 

The evening wore on. Calum was ushered away to greet important people from the band's label. Every so often he would look over to Claudia making sure the creepy men didn’t get near her. As he made way back to the VIP area he got a text from Danny asking if he was with Claudia. He turned on his heel and went to the lobby where the music wasn't too loud to call him. 

"Hey," Danny answered after the second ring.

"What's up?" Calum said. He didn't know how he should talk to Danny since he and Claudia aren't on speaking terms after their fallout at his baby shower. The last thing he wanted to get in the middle of a fight with Danny and Claudia. From what Junior said, it was a place he would rather not be.

"Mede is in labor." He said frantically.

"Wha— how? Claudia said she's not due until late April."

"Her parents came over. Shit happened and now we're at the hospital."

"Fuck." Calum scratched his head. "Which hospital are you at?" 

"UCLA Medical Center."

"We'll be there in a bit."

"No, it's fine. It’s your album party. I just wanted you to tell Claudia.”

“No, we’ll be there." Calum said. By the tone, there was no way for Danny to disagree with him.

Calum hung up and seconds later he spotted Claudia coming from the entrance of the venue. Her ever present smile grew ten times more upon meeting Calum's gaze. She linked her elbow with his and pulled him back to the party.

"Hey, la Güera just left. You won't believe what she told me. Like I kinda expected it, but still I'm surprised. Of all people, she's—"

"Mede is in labor." Calum said, cutting her off. 

"What!"

***

Claudia was slipping on her Vans when Calum pulled up to the hospital. She was pretty sure she left them there a few weeks ago when Calum took her to an outdoor movie that resulted in them having sex in the backseat. 

She ran to Danny once they went to the maternity ward. With him still sitting, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"How are they?" She asked him.

Immediately Danny broke into a sob. He clung to her as he cried into her stomach. 

"I'm so fucking sorry, Claudia." He whispered. "I'm sorry for not protecting you, for being a shitty brother and for everything Paco said.

Claudia gently pushed him away, so she could sit next to him. She held his hands in hers, gently rubbing his knuckles with her thumbs like their mom would when they would cry. "Danny, I don't care about that. It's in the past. Right now we have to focus on Mede and the baby." She said softly. "How are they?"

"I don't know. When Deacon Pepe and Marcela showed up at our place, Mede almost had an anxiety attack." Danny took a deep breath before continuing. "We ordered take out and Marcela made a comment about Mede's eating habits and how spicy food isn't good for the baby. She got mad and then they argued. Mede fainted causing her water to break. Right now they're trying to stabilize her, so they can induce labor."

"Fuck," Calum mumbled. The twins looked up at him, earning a look from Claudia. He leaned over to Claudia. "Sorry. I'm gonna get a hoodie from the car." She nodded and pulled him for a quick peck. 

"Have you called mom and dad?" She asked him. 

"Yeah," he nodded. "They're on their way. Junior and Marlene too."

"¿Y Paco?" 

"What about him?"

"Have you called him?"

"No. We haven't talked in weeks." He confessed. "A few days after the baby shower we got into an argument. He said he didn't cheat."

"He didn't." Claudia said. Danny looked at her like she grew three heads. She dropped her shoulders. "Him y la Güera are talking. I ran into her earlier at the party. Anyways she told me everything. Paulina lied. She said that she tried a few times to get at him, but she never succeeded."

"You believe it?" He asked her quietly.

"Weirdly enough, I do." 

They stayed quiet. Danny curled up on the small couch and rested his head on her lap. She noticed his eyes get heavy when she started to play with his hair. She took off Calum's jacket and draped it over him like a blanket. 

"Daniel Santos?" A doctor announced minutes later.

Danny sat up when he heard his name. "That's me." 

He was shrugging off Calum's jacket as Medelyn's mom went up to the doctor, bombarding them with questions. 

"I'm sorry, I need to speak with the baby's father." the doctor told her.

"That's my daughter!" She yelled at the doctor. 

"Doña Marcela, estamos en un hospital no en un pinche mercado donde puede andar con su gritadera." Claudia snapped at her. 

Medelyn's mom gave her once over and went back to her husband. Medelyn's mom angrily watched Danny talk to the doctor.

"Who's the lady glaring at Danny?" Calum asked, walking to Claudia and handing her a pink tie dye hoodie. 

"Mede's mom, you missed the scene she tried to cause." She said slipping on the hoodie. She pulled up to her nose and smiled at him. "Smells like you."

"I practically doused it in my cologne and slept with it every night while I was in the UK." He said, pulling her close. 

Claudia draped her legs over his thighs and curled up at his chest. She watched Danny talk to Medelyn's parents. She assumed he was just repeating what the doctor told him. Then he made his way to Claudia and Calum.

"What happened?" Claudia asked him.

"They stabilized her and the baby and are getting her ready for a c-section." He told her. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. "I have to go in now. In two hours tops you're going to have another nephew."

"Can't wait. Hopefully the baby isn't ugly like you." Claudia teased. 

"Just wait until you two have kids. I just hope they get Cal's looks." 

"You think I'm attractive?" Calum smiled proudly.

"I mean you're not bad looking." 

***

Claudia dozed off while her and Calum waited for her parents. Remembering that he had to post something about the album he posted a series of pictures that were taken during the time the album was recorded. In the middle of the pictures he slipped one of him and Claudia FaceTiming while he was in the UK but tagged her podcast account. The last slide of the post was a video of him, Mali and Claudia's brothers taking shots on Thanksgiving. He captioned the post saying that he was very excited for CALM to be out. 

Almost an hour later Danny came out from the delivery room. Calum sat up straighter and nudged Claudia awake. He caught her when she rolled off the seats before face planting on the ground. He turned around and saw Medelyn's mom approach them. 

"They're both okay. The procedure went well. They're just checking Sebastian since he was born three weeks early, but they're good."

"Can we go see Medelyn?" asked Medelyn's mom.

"Yeah, two people at a time." Danny said. He turned to Claudia and Calum. "I'll take them then you two."

"Yeah, we'll wait." Claudia said. 

They went back to their seats. About half an hour later, Calum heard Diego and Soni's voices echo through the hallway. Seconds later they emerged with Junior tailing behind them. 

"¿Ya nació?" Soni asked them. 

"Yeah, Mede's parents are with them." Claudia nodded. 

"Mi'ja, baja los pies." Soni scolded, pushing Claudia's feet off the seats and sitting next to her. She looked over to her. "Es el vestido?"

"Yes." She nodded excitedly. She stood up, slipping off the hoodie she showed off the dress."Mira."

Ever since Claudia was little, Soni always altered her and hemmed her clothes. Mostly her jeans since she was tall for the 'regular' length but shorter than the 'long' length. Occasionally she'd make Claudia a dress for Christmas, but nothing like her prom dress.

When her and Calum went down to San Diego for the baby shower, she was going to dress shopping at some thrift shops in HillCrest for a dress for the album party. She told her mom that she wanted to wear the same color as her prom dress, and Soni convinced her not to because she was going to fix her prom dress. Claudia still didn’t know how she did it, but she loved her dress. It used to be a strapless trumpet dress with a lace cover around the shoulders. Soni added thin straps, managed to remove all the lace and the back part of the dress, therefore making it backless. What really was the cherry on top for Claudia was that Soni added a slit to the down mid thigh.

"Yo supe que se te iba ver bonito." Soni said, admiring how it looked on her daughter.

While Claudia showed her mom pictures of the party, Calum joined Diego and Junior. 

"I'm gonna go check in at the hotel, so Marlene and the kids can rest." Junior told his dad. 

"You guys can stay with me. I have a few guest rooms at my house." Calum offered. "There's enough for everyone."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, there's a room for you and Marlene then one for the kids." Calum nodded. He turned to Diego. "Even one for you and Soni."

"And one room for Claudia, right?"

***

Calum opened and closed the refrigerator, still not believing it was fully stocked. When he left for Europe it was empty, save for some frozen foods and drinks. He knew it was Claudia's doing. It would explain what she was doing when she came over the day before. Other than sending Calum to an early grave, by sending him pictures of herself in lingerie and videos touching herself on his bed.

He turned on his heel and went back to his room. He found Claudia staring at her phone. Her face was unreadable.

"Everything alright?" He asked when he sat next to her.

"Yeah, I just got an email from UCLA and I'm too scared to see if I got rejected from their graduate program." She handed him her phone. "Read it for me?"

"Yeah."

Claudia crawled onto his lap and watched as her phone loaded the email. 

"Your wifi sucks." Claudia mumbled as two minutes went by.

"Shut up." He mumbled.

Then the email loaded. Claudia hid herself into his chest and waited for Calum to read the email. She felt his hand wrap around his waist as he gently rubbed her back. 

He stopped rubbing and pulled her away from his chest. He had the biggest grin on his face. 

"I'm so fucking proud of you." He simply said. 

"I got in? Are you sure? Maybe you—"

"Nope," he cut her off. "You got in."

"Oh my god!" She squealed, wrapping her arms around him. 

After applying three separate times, her senior year, when she transferred and now for grad school, Claudia finally got accepted to her dream school.

Claudia pulled Calum into a kiss. In  a matter of minutes, they got needy for each other. Without breaking their kiss, Calum gently pushed Claudia on the mattress and with his cock, he showed her how proud he was that she got into her dream school, three times over.

Taglist: @another-lonely-heart​​​ @sunshinebabycal​​   @calumscalm​ ​@karajaynetoday​​ @cherryxwildflower​​​ @myloverboyash​​​  @idontneedanyone​​​ @findingliam-o​​​ @5-secondsofcolor​​​ @spicycal​​​ @sexgodashton​​​ @fckingpernico​

#calum hood smut #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood fluff #calum hood fan fic #calum hood oneshot #calum hood imagines #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fan fiction #calum hood series #El Novio series

[sohotthateveryonedied]

I’ll Make a Million Mistakes

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.”

“I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.”

“Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.”

“Y’all need Jethuth.”

Bruce likes to think of himself as a patient man. Even more, he’d like to think it’s a trait he earned all on his own, but anyone who’s met him would testify that he inherited his patience from the man who raised him, and Bruce would have to agree. This level of restraint he possesses is an acquired skill—one that is reserved for the world’s best butlers and for fathers of six. Karen from the PTA wishes she were on Bruce’s level. His exceedingly calm temperament is the only reason Bruce doesn’t melt into a puddle on the ground now, his bones turning into a milky froth because Jesus fucking Christ, hasn’t he had a hard enough night as it is? No person should have to spend two hours solving riddles because Eddie was feeling manic tonight and then be forced to come home to human children. Duke smiles around a mouthful of bloody gauze. “In my defenth, I’ve never even had a cavity before.” “No, you just got your tooth knocked out.” “Teeth.” “What?” “Ith acthually teeth, plural. I lotht two of them.” Bruce facepalms. “Goddamn it.” He ignores the giggles from his other kids, all of whom apparently decided they needed to be present for this conversation. He’s picking his battles tonight.

“Ith not my fault!” Duke points over at Tim, standing against the Batcave’s wall minding his own business. “Ith hith fault.” “It is not. Bruce, don’t listen to him.” “Oh, yeah? Who knocked me into the railing in the firtht plathe?” “That was Jason’s fault. He’s the one who threw the football.” “Actually,” Jason chimes in, “that was Cass. I was an innocent bystander.” “Liar,” Cass says. “Don’t call me a liar.” “Liar.” “You’re the liar. She’s framing me, Bruce, I swear to god. I’ve never done anything wrong to my siblings in my entire life.” Dick makes a spluttering noise. “You once threw a pineapple at my head because I was breathing too loudly!” “And I don’t regret it one bit.” Bruce sighs. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He gently grasps Duke’s chin, being mindful of his sore jaw. “Where?” Duke pulls out the wad of gauze and opens his mouth wide. He points at the space where his front tooth used to be, then a canine on the bottom left which now consists of half a white shard. “Ith thith one and thith one.” Bruce hums. “I can get you a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll put a couple of caps in and you’ll be good as new.” He’ll have to rearrange a few things in his schedule. At least now he has a valid excuse to skip racquetball with Clark. There is no logical reason a bumpkin from Kansas should be better at racquetball than Bruce is, there just isn’t. “Tho my thmile ithn’t permanently ruined? Thath a relief. Thethe babieth are my betht feature,” he says, all the while bloody saliva dribbles from his lip like a deranged vampire. Best feature, definitely. “Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.” “I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.” “Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.” “Y’all need Jethuth.” “At least it’ll make for a good story one day,” Tim says. “Everyone loves scar stories.” Jason snorts. “People actually like death stories more, but go off I guess.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jay. Find new material.” “You want new material? Check this out.” Jason tugs down the collar of his sweater. He shows off the mostly-faded autopsy scar sliced up his torso and to his shoulders. Bruce winces. Dick yawns. “So? You got autopsied. Big whoop. Scars don’t count if you’re dead when you get them.” He tips his head down, parts a section of his hair with his fingers to show off the fresh scar on his scalp. “Talk to me when you get shot in the head.” Tim rolls his eyes. “You realize how stupid this is, right? We shouldn’t be arguing about who has the worst bodily trauma.” “Why,” Jason says, “because you know you’d lose?” “Because I’ve got you both beat.” He pulls up his t-shirt to display the surgical scar on his abdomen. “Missing spleen. Beat that.” “I lost a kidney. Kidney trumps spleen any day.” Cass rolls up the leg of her shorts to show off her bullet-riddled thigh. “Connect the dots. I win.” “But have you lost a vital organ?” Tim asks. “No.” “Spleens aren’t that vital,” Dick says. “Fuck off, at least you still have one.” “I would prefer to keep my organth,” Duke says. “Juth thaying.” “And you will,” Bruce assures him. “Probably.” “Probably?” “Look, I’m tired. We’re all tired. Can we schedule the scar contest for a later time when I’m hopefully not here to witness it?” Maybe he can ask Alfred to drug his tea from now on. At least then he can rest easy in a drug-induced slumber, knowing all the while that he’s missing the kind of petty arguments no parent should have to hear. “No one said you had to be here,” Dick says. “Anyway, Bane once slammed me against a wall and now my hip throbs when it rains.” “At least your wrist doesn’t click when you move it at the right angle.” Jason shakes his wrist next to Tim’s ear. Tim cringes. “You’re all amateurs,” a new voice says, and Bruce wants to die. Damian and Stephanie appear to have returned from patrol, still in their uniforms. “Try having your entire spine replaced.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “Great, it’s time to hear Damian talk about how much better than us he is. My favorite activity.” “Shut up, Drake. You’ve never experienced pain.” “I got blown up once! I still have burn scars all over my neck and shoulders!” “Eh. I’ve had worse.” Steph grins and holds up her left hand, just happy to be included. (Note to self: ponder whether Stephanie is secretly a golden retriever in human form.) “I have no feeling in these three fingers.” She pokes them to demonstrate. “And should I mention that I was tortured by Black Mask once? No? Because power tools were involved, in case anyone was wondering.” “Do I need to reiterate that I once died in an explosion?” “Jason. Little wing. I’m begging you to shut up about your death.” Cass points to a spot on her ribcage. “Two ribs made of metal. Got shattered during a fight. Four years old.” “My dad used to burn me with cigarettes every time I was bad, so...seven times a week, more or less.” “Oh, same!” Jason and Steph high-five. “My grandfather broke my arm in two places when I made a mistake during a training drill. He made me fight assassins for three hours straight afterward without so much as an ice pack.” Duke looks horrified. “Are you guyth okay?” “No offense, but none of you should talk unless you’ve gone through childbirth.” Stephanie rolls up the top portion of her Batgirl suit just enough to show off the scar across her lower belly. “You think getting blown up is hard? Try spending three hours in labor and having a baby ripped out of you. That’s hard.” Jason wipes away a fake tear. “Boo-hoo, someone had a baby when she was a teenager. Human reproduction doesn’t involve being beaten to death with a crowbar.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jason!” “Indeed,” Damian agrees. “Being stabbed by your clone is far worse than being caught in a little explosion. And I can take a crowbar beating in my sleep.” “I’m gonna kill him, Bruce. I’ll kill him right now. Just say the word and I’ll do it.” Bruce sighs, closing his eyes. “Duke, there are painkillers in the medicine cabinet if you need them. I’ll text you the time of your dentist appointment. The rest of you, please refrain from talking to me for the rest of the night.” Bruce walks away toward the manor, silently praying that he can forget this conversation ever happened. “Hey, who wants to see where Killer Croc bit my ass once?”

#whumptober 2020 #no.28 #accidents #batfamily #batfam #duke thomas #dc signal #batman and the signal #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #black bat #batgirl #orphan #tim drake #red robin #idiot duckboy #stephanie brown #spoiler #damian wayne #robin #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

[kimberly-spirits13]

Batboys with S/O That Confesses Their Love Drunk HC (Request)

Dick Grayson:

You’re drunk during movie night together 

It wasn’t a party this time which made everything perfect 

You were watching some romance where the couple was lost forever and died and you were just hysterically crying next to Dick 

“Babe what’s wrong?”

“You go out every night to save people, the world sometimes, and I never know if you're going to come back. I always want you to come back cause I love you.” You had managed through sobs

Dick doesn’t totally know what to so he takes you in his arms and doesn’t let go 

You suddenly stop crying and are just quiet until you told him again that you loved him

He tells you that he loves you too but that you need to sleep and you’ll have a terrible hangover in the morning 

That wasn’t a lie

you do manage to tell him you love him when you’re not drunk

It was easier this time considering 

Jason Todd:

This time you were both at a party 

It was getting loud and there were fireworks 

Jason didn’t react well

You were drunk but not enough to not know what’s happening 

You took him into a quiet bedroom where you held onto him tightly 

When it got bad you finally told him that you loved him and he looked at you with tears in his eyes and started crying more 

Cries himself to sleep and wakes up with you still wrapped around him and then remembers what happens 

Smiling the rest of the day even if the night brought back some traumatic things 

Literally happiest man alive and he won’t tell you why if you forget until you connect the dots for yourself 

You’ve gotta tell him sober after that lol

Tim Drake:

There was a game night going on downstairs in Wayne manor and eventually, he brought you upstairs 

He knew that you’d not feel well in the morning and didn’t want it to be worse

The boys thought it was hilarious and were implying that you two would do “adult things”

Ya know 

You explained to Tim going upstairs as he carried you that you knew that he wouldn’t do that when you weren’t fully aware of everything and that he’d never take advantage of you like that since he loved you and respected you 

Eventually, when you were laying in bed and Tim was just a stuttering mess at this point

He laid down in the bed and before you were out cold, you told him you loved him and he said he loved you back which made you smile like a dork at him

He was just blushing and smiling until he fell asleep

Woke up and totally remembered everything happening and will never let it go

Damian Wayne:

You two were just in your room drinking and talking 

It was just champagne but you were both drunk 

No matter how much Damian didn’t want to admit that he was drunk

Then the conversation shifted to his nightly activities and the future of you two

You told him that you wanted to be with him for the rest of your time on that Earth 

He said he’d have it no other way 

Then he went into that the only reason that he comes back sometimes at night is because of you and maybe Jon and his animals 

Mostly you though 

You told him he was the only reason you probably haven’t pitched yourself off of a roof yet 

Added in you loved him

he said he loved you two and the last thing you remember is knocking out wrapped up in each other’s arms

Duke:

You guys were listening to a new album from an artist you both liked and were drunk 

He was swaying around with you on the wooden floors just listening to the song and he said that he loved you first 

You were grinning ear to ear and said that you loved him too

He picked you up and spun you around, pulling you into a kiss

Very happy all around

Sweet as can be 

Duke’s just an adorable baby drunk so he has an adorable reaction to this kind of thing 

Luke:

You had one too much during your night off of working 

To be fair, it had been a long week with too many working hours 

Luke was finishing up some things while you sat next to him watching a tv show with a glass in hand 

“You know I love you right?” You had said offhandedly.

“Is that Y/N or the beverage talking?” He asked looking at you and smiling.

“You're a genius, figure it out for yourself love.”

“Well in that case I’d say it was Y/N.”

“What a surprise, you got it right again.” 

He sits you in his lap and finishes the work very quickly 

When he’s done he just plays with your hair and you talk about the week no matter how late it gets 

Eventually does drag you to bed

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #headcanon #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x reader #nightwing #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #robin x reader #duke thomas x reader

[krisrix]

Venite adoremus

FIC PREVIEW

In a wild series of overestimations and underestimations, I find myself without a finished chapter 1 of my @carryonthroughtheages fic to present to you all tonight... I’m so sorry!! I’ll try to get it up soon. In the meantime, please accept this small preview of what’s to come:

December 1726

Bleeding bloody hell.

I do my best to stave off the vulgar words ready to tumble free as I openly gawk at the man standing before me, both of us poised to advance upon the same residence. The croaks of my befuddlement at his presence leak out like dying crickets as I struggle to find a single appropriate thing to say.

“What are you doing here?” is what I blurt. While it’s a good deal better than greeting him with profanity, this is not an auspicious start for the evening.

Basilton arches one of his cruel eyebrows at me, and the back of my neck grows hot despite the winter chill. One might imagine that after seven years of having the misfortune of his acquaintance, I might be inured to the gesture. Heaven knows I’m as familiar with the catalog of his expressions of distaste as I am with the constellations which dot the night sky.

“Good evening, Mr Llewellyn,” he says with polite enunciation, and I know it to be spiteful; he rarely has the decency to call me anything other than my middle name, ‘Snow’.

Shame burns high in my cheeks as my namesake leisurely collects around us. I clear my throat and try to greet him anew: “Good evening, Your Grace.” I tip my head, disturbing the snow gathering on my hat. “I’m, ah, surprised to see you here.”

“Yes, I inferred that much.”

Duke Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is an infuriating specimen of a man, and it’s rare I ever mind saying so. As a matter of course, Basilton and I have spent a not-insignificant portion of our lives reminding anyone who will listen exactly how much we detest one another. Penny has all but barred me from mentioning Basilton in my letters. Back when he and I were only squabbling boys at Eton, our rivalry still in its infancy, Penny wrote:

‘As to the matters of the Marquess,’—for that was his title at the time—‘I should hope you take only the appropriate amount of offence when I profess to you that, regardless of all my deep sisterly affections for you, I cannot possibly bear to read another correspondence so heavily burdened with details about him. Save for in the circumstances of utmost importance, of which I can predict no such circumstances at all, I implore you to keep your mentions of him to no more than one-tenth the sum of words gracing the rest of your letter. Ideally, should you care enough for me to do the favour, you will also confine these words to a postscript. If you cannot comply, I am afraid you will leave me no choice but to burn all of your letters, for I can no longer bear the headaches they cause me.’

I begged Penny not to make me do such maths in my letter writing, which she was all too pleased to remind me of a mere year later when I became irretrievably invested in mapping the movements of the heavenly bodies. Given that this chosen course of study then only brought me further into Basilton’s very own path, for he too sought out such knowledge, my letters were well-calculated from then on. I had no disillusions that my dear childhood friend Penelope Bunce wouldn’t be good on her word.

In turn, I have become very skilled in slipping references to him in my letters in ways Penny might not berate me for. Then, I pour my unfiltered thoughts out into a diary before bed so that I have a private account of Basilton’s many misgivings. It’s important I keep a record—know thy enemy, and all that.

Faced with him right now, numerous possible complaints tumble about in my mind, but this is neither the time nor the place for such musings. Which brings me back to my initial query: “What brings you to London, Duke?” I ask with what little formality I can muster. Last I saw him, we were parting ways at Oxford when Michaelmas term came to a close. I assumed he’d be travelling to his estate for the holidays, and that I would be bestowed the Christmas miracle of not having to be reminded of him for a magnificent four weeks.

Basilton’s gaze slides away from me, which feels like both an insult and a relief. “Have you been drinking already? Surely even an addled mind could deduce why someone might be approaching another’s front gate.” Basilton gestures grandly with his walking cane, deploying a small tap to the iron structure as punctuation. “Open this for me, won’t you?”

“B-but—” I sputter. “You— This is the Teague residence!”

“How fortunate for me, seeing as I am a guest of their gathering this evening,” Basilton replies tersely, tapping the gate again.

“You were invited?” I grip the gate, though it is more for support than to submit to his demands. The sounds of music and laughter drifting out from the house sounded so pleasant when I initially turned onto the street, but now it hangs in the air like a mockery.

Basilton pulls in a long, slow breath through his nose; I tense in preparation for the imminent scathing words. “While I’ve never had good reason to think you a very smart man, Snow, I did at least expect you to maintain a certain level of basic mental capacity. Has this past term so thoroughly shaken you that your brains have dribbled out your ears?”

I suppose it was a rather foolish question. It’s not as if he’s the smell-feast between us, slipping into parties uninvited in search of food and connections, two types of nourishment we are all so enslaved to. And while I greatly enjoy using my mouth for the former, the arse kissing is where my abilities cease. It’s common knowledge by all those who know me that my command of my tongue is not ideal. I inherited not even half the persuasive oratory skills of my father.

My tongue feels fat and traitorous in my mouth as I continue my attempts to wrangle it. “I-I’m having a hard time fathoming what connection you could possibly have with Mr Teague’s household.”

“The same as you, surely.”

“Trixie?” My loudness causes Basilton to flinch. It’s a reaction I don’t elicit from him often, but one I like very much. Emboldened, I wedge myself between him and the gate. “You’re lying!”

All pretence of niceties has been stripped from him now. Baz’s face twists up into the wicked sneer I’ve come to know well over the years. “Why in God’s name would I be lying, you dundering blockhead?” he roars, drowning out the sounds of the party. The party which is happening without me. A party I was very much looking forward to!

“Because she is my friend, and you don’t know her!” I yell back.

Baz scoffs. “Perhaps you don’t know her all that well, then.”

Damn him!

Trixie Teague has been an acquaintance of mine since I was a young boy. She, Penelope, and I were neighbours up in Lancashire. Penny and I were always thick as two thieves, and while Trixie didn’t join us often, she was welcome. (On my behalf, at least. Penny’s, not as much.) We didn’t keep in touch once I came south for my studies, so it was a very pleasant surprise to have spotted her in London by chance one day. Her family relocated here two years ago, and I’ve enjoyed having her familiar face around whenever I’m in the city. She knows me. From before all of it—the posh schools, the politician father, the powdered wigs …

Zounds, I’m not even wearing a wig! This was supposed to be a relaxed, joyous evening of drinking and laughter to ring in the Christmas season! Before I have to attend all those important parties riddled with posturing and courting and intricate table settings.

And now, here is the villainous Duke to show me up and make a fool of me.

Like he always does!

#COTTA2020 #carryonthroughtheages #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #simon snow series #my writing #wip

[socialwriter]

Ch. 2-Diamonds are a girls best friend

Listen alongside- this and this

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

TW: Prostitution, sexual activities, mentions of homelessness, cursing, health issues

2.2k+ words

A/n- This is the second chapter of my moulin rouge series, I hope y’all enjoy, mwah

 The curtain rose, and JJ's mouth instantly went dry when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked onstage. Immediately, butterflies erupted in his chest. He realized that this mission of his was going to be much harder than he had initially anticipated…

Y/n strut on stage, hips swaying from side to side slightly. She had the routine down pat, knowing how to maximize tips for the night. Leaving the men of the audience wanting more, that’s how you keep them coming back for more. You push and push them, but don’t let them over the edge. Eventually, she landed center stage, the spotlight hitting her making the jewels on her body and costume glimmer. The entire audience was quiet, anticipation evident by the atmosphere. 

You were ready to begin. 

The silky notes left your throat, as looked up at the audience through your eyelashes, flirting with every man in the room all at once. Your eyes skimmed the audience, creating a connection with each and every person watching. After all, the larger the connection, the larger the tip. Though, your attention always drifted back to those middle booths. The money makers. You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Topper before the show had begun for the night.

----

You’re putting the finishing touches of makeup on for the night, painting the red rouge on the lip when a knock was heard at the door. You breathe in, putting on your sultry look, preparing for an early customer, only to relax when you see it's just Topper likely here to tell you to break a leg. “There’s my star.” He said, a grin on his face as he opened his arms towards you. 

You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless walked over to him to give him a small hug and air kisses. Topper had always been able to see the shine and glimmer in you that you hadn’t been able to see in yourself. To yourself, you were just like any of the other performers, nothing special, but he saw something more in you. He had taken you in when you were left homeless at 14, giving you a job as a waitress before letting you perform when you were of age. He picked you up, dusted you off, and made you a beautiful star, though he said you didn’t need his help doing the last part.

“I’m just doing my job Top.” You retort, pulling away from the hugs. He just grins at you and shakes his head, surprised that after all these years you still had never learned to take a compliment. “And that’s why we pay you the big bucks.” He muses, before the smile falls on his face and he becomes serious. The mood change is abrupt, taking you aback. It looked like this wasn’t just his ritual check in before he started the show.

“I need your help.”

“When don’t you.”

Topper huffs and rolls his eyes, clearly not in the mood for jokes anymore. “Listen, you’re the first girl I’m telling this to, but we’re running low on money. We can’t afford the drinks, the costumes, the lights. Pretty soon we’ll be going under if we continue on this path.”

A small gasp escapes your lips and you look down, tears threatening to spill. This place and Topper had given you a home when you had nowhere else to turn to and now it may be in ruins? You saw other girls, in similar positions you had been in, depending on this place to pay the bills. Some of them had families and children to care form, and now they might suffer because of this place going under. “I hate to break it to you Top, but I don’t have any money to keep this place a float.

Topper shook his head instantly. “I know you don’t, trust me, I don’t think anyone that works here does. But one of our patrons tonight can save us, and I need your help convincing him to invest in us.” That was no shock to you. Topper had often asked you to pay special care to the top paying customers to ensure that they always came back for more, but never had the stakes been so high. “Who?”

“His name’s Rafe Cameron, Duke of Monroth. He’s been coming here on your nights off for the past few weeks, but I think we’re going to need you to give him the final push to give us the money. He always sits in a middle booth, as per usual with the bigwigs. Can you do this for me, for everyone here doll?”

You nod, a determined look in your eyes. “This Duke isn’t gonna know what hit him Top.”

---

You smile, eventually walking around the venue, collecting your bills on the different beats of the song. Everything was a show, and the people had to be entertained at all times.

When you start to approach the booth of the three bohemians, JJ pats down his pockets before realizing he doesn’t have any money to give. “Gimme some money.” He whisper-yells at the two men seated next to him, you were only one booth over. You were currently giving a show to someone who you didn’t realize yet was Rafe Cameron, and he was thoroughly impressed, enjoying the show but not tipping a cent. 

“I only have a $20.” Pope whisper-yells back, but you’re already walking, so JJ grabs the 20 dollar bill from Pope’s hand without his consent and grabs your wrist ,spinning you around. You’re shocked to say the least, and about to pull away from the rude customer. You may dance around and perform sexual acts in front of men, but you drew the line at consent. However, when you turned around, your breath hitched as you met the most beautiful blue eyes that you had ever seen. The unknown mystery man hands you $20 before getting on one knee and kissing the back of your hand. The tip is huge, and with the chivalrous attitude, you connect the dots in your head that this must be the duke Rafe Cameron. It looked like you would be seeing more of those mesmerizing blue eyes later tonight.

You start to walk away from who you assume is the duke, but not before turning around and blowing a kiss his way. JJ is practically swooning at this point, his eyes glued on you the entire time as he makes his way back to the booth with Pope and John B. “Man..you’re good.” John B mumbles, looking at JJ with only respect in his eyes. Pope, however, is a little less impressed, muttering, “You owe me $20” under his breath.

You stuff the 20 in your corset, making your way back to the stage before it feels like a ton of bricks have been piled onto your chest. You stumble upstage and lean on a wall, hoping that the dancers in front of you will distract the audience from whatever is happening to you. It's hard to breathe, and you don’t know what's happening, until you feel a hand on your shoulder and see Sarah’s worried eyes, Kie glancing over at you with concern in her eyes while she dances. Focusing on Sarah seems to pull you out of whatever funk you’re in and let you focus on breathing in and out again. Eventually, you feel like enough oxygen has filled your lungs as you start to walk back to the front of the stage, nodding to Sarah to let her know you’re ok. She reluctantly allows you to walk forward and finish the number, but makes sure to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night.

After belting out the final notes to the song, you’re met with applause from everyone, and you smile at them all. “I hope you all have enjoyed your time at the Moulin Rouge thus far. Now, who’s ready to dance?!” You ask the audience, earning whoops and hollers in response. The rest of the girls and yourself all start to walk off stage, the real performance of mingling with customers just beginning. 

John B and Pope, seeing you walking off stage, stand up abruptly. “Now’s your chance pal. Talk to Y/n, and we’ll distract Topper. Good luck bud.” John B says to JJ, before both boys leave heading over to Topper. “Hey Top, looking spiffy as always, that a new tie?” JJ hears Pope shout, causing him to chuckle and shake his head. Before he can start looking around to find you, you’re already in front of him, a light sheen of sweat on you from the rigorous performance that you had just given. “Hey handsome.”

JJ gulped, scratching that back of his head nervously. He had expected to have to pull you away from some rich scum to talk to you, and he had no clue as to why he would be the first man you approached. “Me handsome?” He asked, pointing to himself. Way to make yourself look like an idiot, JJ.

You just giggle, twirling some hair around your finger. You had half expected the duke to be some arrogant asshole that immediately wanted to get into you pants, but he was different. You catch yourself getting butterflies in your stomach at his goofy smile and pretty blue eyes, but try to push down the feeling. Your profession was not one for love. “Yes you, silly.”

You lean down so that your mouth is right next to his ear, your lips just barely brushing against his skin. “Care to dance?” JJ’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks you in the eyes. “Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?” 

Smirking, you shake your head at the blond, holding out your hand for him to take. “I like to switch things up, what can I say?” 

JJ takes your outstretched hand, standing and following you to the dance floor. “I’m, uh, not really a dancer, I actually do more music.” You look back at him, surprised by the information. Most men kept their mouths shut during this part, wanting the physical and nothing more. But not the man stood in front of you. He seemed genuine, nervous sure, but like he wanted you for your soul and not your body. You can’t help but smile at his awkward stance, glancing at the other girls and how they're dancing with their customers for the night. “Well, that means that you already got the hard part down. If you’re dancing to the beat, then you’re already doing better than most of the guys in here.” You tell him, smirking when his face turns a shade of pink. “Now come here.”

You pull him close, wrapping a leg around his hips so that your chests are pressed together, and your hands go up to his shoulders, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. JJ clears his throat, uncomfortable with how close you are, considering your dress is riding up so that your ass is almost hanging out. “You, um, you don’t have to do that, you know.” He says, looking you in the eyes. The smirk you had on your face falls, and you lower your leg. It looked like all the usual tricks wouldn’t work, like you had thought they might. Apparently this Rafe guy needed an emotional connection, which would be harder. You’d trained yourself to block out emotions, but this guy was demanding you to be vulnerable and be the real you, not the act that you put on. 

“Where did you come from?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can even really think of what you’re saying, and your eyes widen slightly, heat rising to your cheeks. You rest your head on the blond’s chest, praying that he hadn’t seen the blush on your face. But JJ had, and it made him fall in love with you even more. Seeing the real you, the real woman, the real person, not the performer and the act that you put up. He was determined, in that moment, to make you his, no matter the cost. “America.” He joked, causing you to snort, shaking your head before pulling away. Instantly, you both crave the other's touch. “I’ll be in my dressing room, hope to see you there.” You tell JJ before walking away, giving him one last parting glance. 

John B and Pope see you walk away from JJ, so they decide to quit pestering Topper to see how the mission with JJ and you was going. “So how’d it go man?” Pope questions. JJ is left speechless for a moment before glancing back at the two. “She invited me back to her dressing room.” John B and Pope both grin at JJ, the former patting him on the shoulder. “Well done, you go up there, talk to her uninterrupted, and we’re in for sure!” 

JJ nods, sending the two a half hearted smile before sneaking another glance at you. You approach Topper, a smile on your lips before you remember that you have to do this for professional reasons. “I’ve invited him back to my dressing room.” You inform Topper, causing him to grab you by the shoulder and kiss you on the cheek, grinning. “That’s my girl, I knew you could do it.” You can’t help but look back at the blond haired, blue eyed man, and resent the fact that you can’t help but blush when you see that he’s already looking at you.

Tags: 

@normatural @sarahcxmeron @bricksatanakinswindow @ssjiara @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @the-crackhead-next-door @perfektionsmakel @teamnick @danicarosaline @gracie-jo15 @jjmbanks​ @meandmymessyminds​ @keepingupwiththepogues​ @jjaybank​ @x-lulu​

#outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fluff #outerbanks x you #outer banks x y/n #obx netflix #obx x reader #obx jj maybank #obx imagine #jj maybank #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron #topper thornton #jj x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #female reader #moulin rouge

[maddrmatt]

Kairi’s Epic Journey: The Quest for Sora

New to this fanfic? Click here to properly begin!

Chapter 21: Inferno in the Ice Palace

Arendelle

Towering before them was an immense palace made of ice attached to the side of the mountain.  A staircase made of ice lead up to the double doors which made up the front entrance.  The light of the sun shimmered off the crystals.

It was quite a sight that would be usually be considered beautiful.  But the beauty was marred by all the damage that was scattered all over.

The walls, once pristine, were now dotted with char marks, cracks and holes of various shapes and sizes.  Pieces of the railing on the staircase were missing and the steps themselves were now cracked and broken.  One could only imagine what the inside of the palace looked like.

Kairi couldn’t take her eyes off of it even as Marshmallow bent forward and allowed her, Anna and Olaf to slide off of him.  She walked over to Elsa who looked just as stunned to see her ice palace in such a state.

“I’m so sorry, Elsa.  It must’ve been so beautiful,” said Kairi sympathetically.

“My condolences as well, Your Majesty.  It is bad enough that those ruffians are squatters but they’re also vandals as well.,” said the Duke.

“How could anyone do something like this to a work of art?  This is a crime against ice,” asked Kristoff as Sven nodded in agreement.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.  They’ve gone too far!  We should go in there right now, drag them back to Arendelle and throw them into the dungeon,” said Anna furiously as she attempted to stomp toward the palace before being held back by Elsa and Kairi.

“Take it easy, Anna,” said Elsa.

“I won’t take it easy, Elsa!  Mistreating Marshmallow was bad enough.  But now they’ve ruined one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever created with your powers.  We cannot let them get away with this,” shouted Anna.

“And we won’t.  But we can’t be reckless about this,” said Elsa.

“Your sister’s right, Anna.  We still have no idea about who or what we’re dealing with here,” said Kairi.  ‘For all we know, they could be the kind of people the Heartless would obey.’

“If there’s anybody even in there,” said Kristoff who was kneeling by a trail of tracks leading up to the staircase.

“What do you mean, Kristoff?” asked Kairi.

“Take a look at the tracks,” said the ice harvester beckoning everyone to come over to where he was.  Once everyone had gathered around him, he continued.

“When we stopped earlier, the tracks were all leading up here.  But now I’m also seeing some that are leading away from here,” said Kristoff pointing to several tracks that indeed looked like they were heading away from the ice palace.

“But how could we have missed them if they’ve already left?  We didn’t see any other trails besides the one we followed up here,” said Kairi.

“I have no idea, Kairi. And there’s another thing that’s baffling me.  If they wanted the ice palace for themselves, why would they damage it like this? Surely, they’d know by disrupting the integrity of the ice like this, they’d only be putting themselves in danger,” said Kristoff.

“Are you certain of that?” asked the Duke.

“Trust me, Your Grace. If there’s one thing I know best, it’s ice,” said Kristoff.

“This mystery is getting more mysterious every minute,” said Olaf with several of the others nodding in agreement.

Elsa gazed up to the ice palace’s doors.  “Well, one thing is for certain: we’re not going to get any answers unless we go in there.”

The queen then turned to the group.  “All right everybody.  Here’s what we’re going to do.  I’ll lead the way into the palace.  If there’s any damage to the floors, I can use my powers to fix them, so it’ll be safe for us to move around in there.  They’ll also protect us if there’s anyone still in there,” said Elsa.

“Don’t count Kairi out, Elsa.  She can help just like Sora!” exclaimed Olaf.

“What on earth is he talking about?  What kind of help can she offer?” asked the Duke.

“You’re just going to have to trust us on this, Your Grace.  Just know that if the situation calls for it, I’m ready to do all that I can to help,” said Kairi.

The Duke’s eyes gave a skeptical gaze for a brief moment.  “Hmm.  Very well. But what are we to do if those ruffians return and catch us by surprise from behind?” asked the Duke.

“That could be a job for Marshmallow.  He can stay out here and keep watch.  Will you, big guy?” asked Anna.

The giant snowman looked a little hesitant.  But he assented to Anna’s request with a nod and a grunt.

Kristoff noticed Marshmallow’s hesitance.  “I guess he’s still a little nervous.  Can’t say that I blame him.  I think after what happened earlier, he’s not looking forward to facing his attackers again.”

Kairi gave Marshmallow a pat on the hand.  “Don’t worry, Marshmallow.  We won’t let them hurt you again.”

“And to make you feel better, I’ll stay out here and keep watch with you, little brother,” said Olaf walking to the giant’s side.

“That’s probably a good idea, Olaf.  Is everyone else ready?” asked Elsa.

“As we’ll ever be, Elsa,” said Kairi with everyone nodding although the Duke’s nod was a little more reluctant.

“Good.  Then let’s go,” said Elsa as she turned to the staircase and waved her hands.  Her ice magic flowed over it and restored the staircase to its pristine condition.

Elsa then ascended the stairs.  Following her was Anna, Kristoff, the Duke, Kairi, Sven and Pluto.

Suddenly, just as the Duke stepped on the icy steps, his feet slid.  He quickly gripped the railing and gazed down at the abyss below. He gave a whimper of fright.

“Be careful on the steps, Mr. Weasel Town.  They can be pretty slippery,” called Olaf from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes er thank you for telling me,” said the Duke as he regained his balance.

Olaf then looked up to Kairi.  “You doing okay yourself, Kairi?” he asked the Princess of Heart who was having a little trouble on the ice herself.

“I’ll be okay, Olaf. I’m just not used to walking on ice,” said Kairi.

Then, much to their dismay, Sven ended up slipping.  He fell down with a grunt and slid backwards.  He collided with Pluto and the two animals ended up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Kristoff shook his head. “Looks like Sven still hasn’t gotten the hang of these stairs yet.”

Pluto gave a glare to the reindeer.  Sven gave a sheepish grin in response.

Shaking his head, Marshmallow reached downward and picked up the dog and the reindeer.  He set them down on their feet.

“Maybe it’s better that you stay down there, Sven.  You can help Olaf and Marshmallow keep watch,” said Kristoff.

“The same goes for you too, Pluto.  Don’t want you both to be slipping all over the place,” said Kairi.

The dog and the reindeer looked disappointed.  But they gave nods to show they conceded.

“We’ll come out for you all once we’re sure it’s safe,” said Kairi as she turned around to see Elsa had reached the door.

With a wave of the queen’s hand, the doors automatically opened.  She gasped in horror as she took in the state of the entry room of the palace.

The frozen fountain in the middle of the room was shattered to pieces.  The two staircases had several broken steps and railings. A huge piece of the wall was torn out revealing the sheer drop on the outside. There were holes in the floor that looked like they had either been put there by force or melted by fire.  The scene was reminiscent of the aftermath of a wild and destructive party.

“Be careful wherever you step, everyone.  Wait until I refreeze the floors and then only step where I step,” said Elsa as she entered with the others behind her.

As her sister used her powers to restore the floor’s strength, Anna took in all the damage done to her sister’s palace.  The more she saw, the more her rage grew.

Finally, she shouted in the loudest voice she could muster, “Listen to anyone in here!  This is the princess of Arendelle!  Whoever you are, I command you to show yourself and explain what you have done!”

Anna’s voice echoed throughout the palace.  The group waited to see if Anna’s demand would be responded to.  But the only response was silence.

“I don’t think that was going to work, Anna.  Judging from all this damage, it looks like they take great pride in destruction,” said Kairi.

“And I’m still thinking that for all we know, they could already be long gone by now,” said Kristoff.

“We should still investigate the rest of the palace just to be sure.  Even if no one is here anymore, we may be able to find some clues as to who was responsible for this,” said Elsa.

“But, Your Majesty, this place is quite immense.  Not to mention you’ve made it clear that we need to stay with you so you can keep the floors from collapsing.  So, how are we to do that?” asked the Duke.

“The Duke does have a point, Elsa.  This place is pretty big,” said Kairi.

“Actually, though it looks big on the outside, it really isn’t on the inside.  There’s really only one other room: the one upstairs,” said Anna pointing to the large double staircases leading upward.

Kairi was surprised. ‘Elsa builds a giant palace with only two rooms?  I guess that does make sense since she intended to live up here all alone when she ran away.  There’s really no need for too many rooms if you’re keeping yourself away from everyone.’

“Come on, everyone. Let’s head up to the top floor and see if anything or anybody is up there,” said Elsa as she made her way to one of the shorter staircases that lead up to a landing connected to the longer staircases.  

After using her powers to repair the staircase, she led the group up onto the landing.  Then they made their way up the left staircase leading to the top floor.

The ascent up the stairs was not a pleasant one. Nearly everywhere on the surrounding walls were the same signs of damage that they had seen in the first room.

‘How could anyone be so heartless to do something like this to such a wonderful place?  It’s very heartbreaking,’ thought Kairi as she looked around at the various holes and cracks in the walls.

Then something caught the Princess of Heart’s eye. Actually, it was the lack of something that caught her eye.  “Everyone, there’s something very unusual about the stairs.”

“What do you mean, Kairi?” asked Anna.

“So far, everywhere we’ve been, there’s been damage all around on the walls and floors.  And Elsa’s had to fix the damage to the floors so we could walk on them,” stated Kairi.

“Go on,” said Elsa.

“So, why hasn’t she needed to fix these stairs? There’s no damage at all to them,” said Kairi.

Everyone then realized what Kairi was getting at. On this long ascent, Elsa had yet to use her powers to fix anything they had walked on like she had earlier.

“You’re right, Kairi.  After everything we saw downstairs, seeing something completely undamaged is strange,” said Anna.

“But they smashed up the stairs leading into the palace and the smaller staircases in the first room.  Why didn’t they do any damage to these ones?” asked Kristoff.

“I don’t know, but…” Kairi stopped midsentence as she sniffed.  

“Hey, can you all smell that?” she asked causing everyone to sniff the air themselves.

“You appear to be right, young lady.  There does appear to be a peculiar odor in the air.  In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it almost smelled like something was on…” began the Duke.

“Fire!” interrupted Anna pointing upward where a thick cloud of smoke had gathered.  Everyone gasped in horror.

“How is this even possible?  How can something that’s made out of ice catch on fire?” asked the Duke.

“There’s no time to wonder about that!” exclaimed Elsa as she ran upstairs towards the smoke.

“Elsa, no!  You can’t breathe in that smoke!” exclaimed her sister.

Elsa stopped just as she entered the cloud.  She gave a few coughs before backing out of it.  ‘Anna’s right.  I could suffocate in this smoke.  But how am I going to get to that fire to extinguish it?’

Fortunately for Elsa, her answer came very soon as Kairi stepped up to her, summoned Destiny’s Embrace and pointed it at the smoke.  “Wind!” she cried.

At Kairi’s command, a gust of wind burst out from the tip of her Keyblade.  It pushed the smoke upward, clearing the path for them.

Elsa smiled at Kairi gratefully before turning back to her sister and the others.  “Anna, you stay behind with Kristoff and the Duke. Stay out of the smoke no matter what. Kairi and I will deal with that fire,” she said as she continued her ascent up the stairs.

“But…” began Anna.

“Don’t worry, Anna. I won’t let anything happen to her or this palace.  We’ll call for you when the fire’s out,” said Kairi as she followed after Elsa.

Anna was about to follow after them.  But before she could, Kristoff held her back.

“They’ll take care of it, Anna.  Trust them,” he said assuredly.

The Duke, in the meantime, was completely taken aback by what he had just witnessed.  “Was that…a giant key?  She has magic too?!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, Your Grace. Kairi does have powers of her own though they are a little different from Elsa’s,” said Kristoff.

“And you can take it from us that like my sister, there is no reason to assume the worst of Kairi,” said Anna with a hint of warning in her voice.

The Duke said nothing more.  But he nodded to let Anna know that he understood her point.

Anna then gazed up the staircase where her sister and her new friend had gone.  “Elsa, Kairi, be careful,” she whispered.

________________________________________________________________

Further up the staircase, Kairi and Elsa continued their ascent to the top floor.  Kairi kept up with casting Aero spells to push back the smoke.

It wasn’t too long before the staircase came to an end and they entered a hallway.  Midway through it, there was a doorway from which a bright orange glow could be seen.

The two of them made their way to the doorway and as soon as they got there, they had to shield their eyes from the glow.  When they uncovered them, they beheld a horrific sight.

In the center of the room of ice, a large pile of wood had been erected and set ablaze.  Water dripped from the ceiling and the chandelier as the heat from the fire melted it.

The queen was horrified to see a blazing inferno set in the middle of the room she considered to be the heart of the palace. “Kairi, I don’t know if my powers are strong enough to extinguish a fire this big!”

“We have to try, Elsa.  While you use your ice magic, I’ll cast some Water spells with my Keyblade.  Hopefully, that’ll be enough to put it out as well as soak the wood and stop it from catching fire again.  Ready?” asked Kairi causing Elsa to nod in agreement.

The two of them approached the fire. Fortunately for them, the holes in the ceiling allowed the smoke to escape so it was not as thick as it was coming up.  Kairi pointed Destiny’s Embrace at the burning wood while Elsa held out her hands, palms forward.

“Stream!” cried Kairi as she unleashed a blast of water from her Keyblade while simultaneously, Elsa conjured blasts of her ice magic.

The two of them cast many magical attacks on the fire and appeared to succeed in extinguishing the flames where they struck. But, much to their dismay, it turned out to only be temporary.  Apparently, the fire’s temperature was so intense that it was able to overcome the dampness and reignite.

“Kairi, it’s not working!” exclaimed Elsa.

Then, they heard what appeared to be the sound of cracking.  It could only mean one thing: the floor on the verge of collapsing.  If the fire wasn’t extinguished, the burning wood would fall through and put the rest of the ice palace in danger of destruction.

Elsa stopped casting her magic on the fire and fell to her knees.  Placing her hands on the floor, she channeled her magic into keeping it from falling apart.  She pored all her strength into it.  “Kairi! I don’t know if we can stop it!”

“We can, Elsa! Just keep the floor up for now!  I have an idea!” shouted Kairi as she stepped in front of the queen.

Then, to Elsa’s surprise, Kairi continued to cast Water spells on the fire as she had been doing before.   Even though it had been clear that it was futile, she kept on using the same magic.

“What are you trying to do, Kairi?  We already know that’s not going to work,” said Elsa.

“Trust me!  It shouldn’t be long now!  Just be prepared to use your powers on my signal!” cried Kairi.

Elsa’s confusion remained.  But seeing no other way, she decided to put her full trust in the Princess of Heart.

As Kairi continued to bombard the fire with apparently ineffectual Water magic, she thought, ‘I really hope this works.  Grand Magic is our only hope of stopping this fire!’

Finally, after a couple more Water spells, Kairi felt the power of the now ready Grand Magic coursing through her.  She pointed Destiny’s Embrace at the fire and shouted, “Waterza!”

The biggest blast of water so far burst out from her Keyblade.  At the same moment, Kairi stepped to the side and shouted, “Now, Elsa!  Freeze it!”

Elsa raised her hands and pointed them at the fire. Summoning all her strength, she unleashed a powerful wave of her magic.

The Waterza spell hit the fire splashing all over it.  In less than a second, Elsa’s power hit it as well.  The combination of the two magical attacks caused the pile of wood to be completely coated in ice, causing the fire to finally be extinguished.

Kairi let out a big sigh as she fell to her knees beside the queen.  Her Keyblade vanished into thin air.  She looked over to Elsa and gave a smile of relief.  “We did it.  It’s out.”

“That was a great idea as well as some amazing magic, Kairi,” Elsa said in between deep breaths.

“Thanks.  I’m just glad I was able to pull it off in time.  Truth be told, I’ve actually never done that level of magic outside of training before and certainly not in a situation like this,” said Kairi.

“You meant you couldn’t have done it right from the start?” asked Elsa.

“No.  It doesn’t work like that for me.  To perform Grand Magic with a Keyblade, you have to build up the power for it by casting the weaker spells repeatedly first,” explained the Princess of Heart.

“I guess one kind of magic isn’t quite the same as another.  But anyway, thank you so much, Kairi,” said Elsa.

Then, from the direction of the staircase, they heard Anna’s voice call out, “Elsa?  Kairi?”

“It’s okay, Anna!  The fire’s out now!  You can all come up!” Elsa called back.

The sound of running footsteps were heard and it wasn’t long before Anna came into view.  Kristoff and Duke trailed not far behind her.

Anna immediately rushed up to them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Are you both okay?  I was so worried for you both.”

“We’re fine, Anna. The palace is saved,” said Kairi.

“I know you both were doing what you had to do to save it.  But that didn’t make it any less scary.  Promise me you won’t run into fire ever again?” asked Anna.

Elsa chuckled.  “I promise.  I actually hope it’ll never come to me doing that again.”

Anna laughed too.  But her laughter ceased when she gazed at the frozen remains of the bonfire, the melted chandelier and the various holes in the ceiling. Kristoff and the Duke were equally stunned.

“My word.  From the looks of this, the blaze must’ve been immense,” said the Duke.

“It was, Your Grace.  The fire was so powerful that my magic wasn’t enough to stop it.  The whole palace would’ve melted right off the mountain if it weren’t for Kairi and her own magic,” said Elsa smiling at the Princess of Heart.

Anna gazed at the frozen woodpile with anger in her eyes.  “This is definitely the last straw.  It’s bad enough they chased Marshmallow out of his home and smashed up everything downstairs.  But they tried to outright destroy this place!  They’re going to pay!” she roared.

“Calm down, Anna.  As much as we’d all like to see that, truthfully, I don’t think it’s going to happen,” said Kristoff.

“But Kristoff…” began Anna before Kairi interjected.

“Kristoff’s right, Anna.  Think about it.  If whoever was responsible for this went as far as to set a fire this big to destroy the palace, I don’t think they were planning on sticking around.”

“But we didn’t see any trace of anyone leaving coming up here.  They couldn’t have gotten by us.  Where could they have gone?” asked Anna.

“I don’t know, Anna.  It doesn’t look like we’re going to get any answers anytime soon if at all.  I think the only thing we can do right now is make repairs to the palace and then head back to Arendelle,” said Elsa.

“But Elsa, what if they come back?  What if Marshmallow won’t be so lucky to get away next time?” asked Anna.

“I think we can assume that if they believe their fire succeeded in destroying the palace, they’re not likely to return,” said Elsa.

Anna sighed.  “I guess that’s a fair assumption.  All right.  I guess there really isn’t anything we can do now other than start fixing this place up.”

“Anyone have any ideas on how we’re going to get this out?” Kristoff asked pointing the frozen woodpile.

“Good thing we have a giant snowman who’s the right person for that job.  Speaking of which, someone ought to go and tell Olaf, Marshmallow, Sven and Pluto what’s going on and that it’s safe to come in,” said Kairi.

“I’ll take care of that,” said Anna as she made her way out of the room.

But just before she could leave, the Duke ran up to her.  “Your Majesty, allow me to go and notify the snowmen and the animals of the current predicament.”

“That won’t be necessary, Your Grace,” said Anna.

“Please.  I came up here hoping I could help convince the scoundrels responsible for this of their error.  But since that appears to be no longer possible, I wish to be of service to you and your sister in any way I can,” said the Duke in tone that sounded almost like begging.

Anna gave a roll of her eyes before she said, “Okay. You can go and tell them what’s happened if you insist on making yourself useful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said the Duke with a bow as he left the room and headed for the stairs.

Anna turned around and once again, gazed at the frozen remains of the bonfire.  She let out a heavy sigh.

Kairi rose to her feet and walked up to the princess’ side.  “Anna? You okay?”

“I will be, Kairi.  It just doesn’t feel right knowing that the people who did this will probably never answer for it,” said Anna.

“I know what you mean,” said Kairi as her thoughts turned to how little Xehanort paid for all the suffering he caused.  ‘Although, I guess being utterly defeated by Sora, Donald and Goofy despite having the χ-blade must’ve been quite humiliating for him.  Still, after everything he did to me and my friends, I would’ve preferred that he got a lot more comeuppance than that.’

Then Anna smiled.  “But I guess there is a bright side to having this all resolved now. Once we get this place back to the way it was, we can focus on finding something to help you find Sora.  And since you’ve helped save Elsa’s palace, it’s now more important that we do that.”

Kairi smiled.  “I appreciate that, Anna.  But don’t feel like you have to help me to settle a debt.  Like I told you before, Sora would have done the same thing.”

“Well, he certainly would’ve been proud of what you did here today,” said Elsa who had come to Kairi’s side.

In spite of Elsa’s praise, Kairi’s spirits dropped a little.  ‘I hope he would be.  But I really hope he’ll be even prouder of me when I succeed in finding him and make up for failing to keep him safe.’

Then the three of them noticed Kristoff had been walking around the room and looking over every detail.  An expression of concern was on his face.

“Kristoff?  Is something the matter?” asked Anna.

“Something doesn’t seem right here.  After looking over the room and from what I know about ice, I’m thinking that this fire may not have been burning for too long,” said the ice harvester causing shock to the three girls.

“What makes you say that?” asked Kairi.

Kristoff pointed to the ceiling.  “Look at the holes.  They don’t look too big.  If this fire had been burning longer, they would have been a lot bigger.”

“But Kristoff, Kairi and I heard the floor cracking. I had to use my powers to keep it from collapsing.  Wouldn’t that be a sign that this fire was burning for awhile?” asked Elsa.

“Being directly under the fire, the floor had not only the heat affecting it but also the weight of the wood. That would have caused it to melt faster,” said Kristoff.

Kairi then realized something herself.  “And we didn’t see any smoke coming from the palace when we were outside!”

“So, that means that the fire was probably set sometime after we stepped into the palace!” exclaimed Anna.

Then, from behind them, the sound of slow clapping was heard followed by an unfamiliar female voice saying, “Congratulations, Your Majesty, for figuring out our ploy.  Unfortunately, it will do you little good since you have put yourselves right where we want you.”

All of them turned around and gasped.  They were no longer alone.

Standing behind them was company of seven strangers all dressed in the same crimson colored cloaks with stylized flames around the hems and sleeves.  On their chests was an emblem of what appeared to be a light blue reptilian creature baring a fierce expression with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth and its body surrounded by violet flames.  They were all wearing black gloves and boots.  They had hoods over their heads and their faces were wrapped in dark red strips of cloth with only their eyes uncovered.

Upon seeing these strangers and their almost familiar garb, horrible memories flowed through Kairi.  Memories of Xehanort and his Organization approaching her, Sora, Riku, Mickey, Axel, Aqua and Ven in the prelude to the battle that would leave her with many scars.

Then they noticed that two of the strangers on the far left had the Duke of Weselton in their clutches.  They held him with his arms behind his body with one hand each while holding their other hands over his mouth as he struggled to get free.

The Duke managed to get his mouth uncovered and he frantically shouted, “They were waiting in the entry room!  They somehow got past…”

“Keep him quiet!” shouted the stranger in the center who appeared to be the owner of the female voice who had spoken earlier. At her command, the ones holding the Duke put their hands back over his mouth.

The woman then stepped forward.  It appeared that she was the leader of this mysterious group.

Now that she was closer, Kairi and the others could see that her left eye was covered by a black eyepatch.  Her remaining green eye stared at them venomously.

Anna stomped toward the leader with a look of pure anger on her face.  “So, you’re the ones responsible for all this!  Why are you doing this?  What gives you the right to come in here and…”

Before Anna could finish her angry inquiries, the leader raised her hand as if she was making a signal. In response, the two strangers on either side of her made fast throwing motions toward the floor right in front of the princess.  

Whatever they threw moved too quickly for anyone to see what it was other than giving off a bright orange glow.  But whatever they were, the spot on the floor they struck suddenly burst into a small flame.

Anna stopped in her tracks as the rest of their group stared in shock.  A couple of the strangers let out evil chuckles as the fire burned for a few moments before going out.

“Did they just…” began Kristoff.

“…throw fire?” finished Kairi.

The leader scraped her fingertips over her right palm and produced a small fire in her hand.  “Oh, we can do a lot more than that.  In fact, our power over fire enables us to do the most incredible feats much like a certain queen’s ice magic.”

Elsa stepped forward while trying to remain calm despite the tense situation.  “Who are you?  What is it that you want?”

“I am Eimyrja and we are the Order of the Flame,” said the leader as she gestured to the others behind her.

Then she pointed accusingly at Elsa with her free hand.  “And what we seek is justice for your crimes, Queen Elsa of Arendelle.”

________________________________________________________________

Onto the next chapter!

#kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #sokai #kairi #marshmallow #anna #olaf #elsa #duke of weselton #kristoff #sven #pluto #original characters #maddrmatt

[theobsessor1]

A Silly Idea

summary:  Deceit should know better, going through with another one of Remus’s ideas. He thought it would have been a one time deal, just something for them that night to experiment with his more reptilian side. But he’s starting to regret it with the growing nest of eggs, and horrible uncertainty of feelings swirling in his chest...he might be in some trouble here. 

pairings: qp Demus, implied intrulogical

Warnings: implied eggpreg, implied mpreg, implied mpreg, (i dont go into detail about any of this) 

 Word count: 1959 (wish to support me buy me a coffee :3)

Chapter 1 of “Say Something” series

Deceit growls as he pops back into the subconscious. He could never understand those-those buffoons! He just wanted to help Thomas, just like any of them, refused to listen to him!

They were such idiots!

He sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair, tossing it to the coffee table as he comes around and plops himself down on the couch with a huff. 

Conjuring himself a glass of wine in one hand and summoning the television remote in the other. Planning to spend the rest of the evening mind-numbingly watching the tv and drinking wine till he passes out. 

A perfect plan for his dreary mood. That is of course what he planned but not everything seems to want to go his way today. He surfs through the channels as movement in his peripheral catches his attention. A short flicker of his tongue snatching the faint scent of blood and some kind of soap confirms that Remus has appeared on the other side of the couch. 

“HelloOoOo my fave pair of snitties!” 

Deceit scrambles to not spill his glass as Remus drops onto him, burying his face into the snake sides chest all the while cackling and wrapping his arms around the other in a tight grip like an octopus entrapping its prey with its tentacles. 

“Really now is that all you see me as Remus?” Deceit fakes an offended scuff “Just some over glorified snits for you to use as a pillow?” he tries to keep from smiling, lips twitching with a slight smirk as Remus giggles...or well his equivalent of giggling. 

Remus takes a moment to settle, keeping his head resting on the other dark sides chest as he finds a comfortable position for his legs. He can hear the creative sides stim toy, the joints of it crackling slightly as he uses it, can feel the side glancing up at him as he takes a gulp of wine before returning attention back to the television. There’s a strange unnatural whining growl that comes from the duke “I could knock their skulls in! Ripp off their arms and feed them to dogs! Or just steal their kneecaps!” Remus makes a quick gesture of snatching something “They would have to listen to ya if they can’t escape!” Deceit lifts an eyebrow, shaking his head. 

It’s the same thing almost every night, coming back frustrated and drowning his anger in alcohol, Remus threatening the proclaimed light sides...always the same. 

Deceit gently shakes his head “Thank you Remus, but I must decline… They might listen to my words but they would not hear my meaning...They never do.” 

Remus takes the time to think for a moment, eyes darting at all the channels Deceit is still scrolling through before he finally just settles on a nature documentary, seems the topic for the day is snakes. 

“...You wanna talk about it?” he finally asks, offering up an ear to listen, and let him babble like Deceit would offer him. The snake side can hear him fidgeting more fervently with his stim toy, trying to keep quiet and allow him to vent. It’s a kind gesture, but Deceit was tired of venting. 

Tired of it all. 

He wanted change. 

“What is there to talk about...Virgil fights against me, Patton is trying to do what he sees right, Roman is lost, Logan listens but follows the rest of the flock.” Deceit can’t help but sigh, he can’t fault them for how they act. Yes he gets angry at not being listened to, but they are only trying their best...even if their best isn’t the greatest...hell they have recently been ignoring one of their own!

Remus growls faintly, unhappy as he gives Deceit a tight squeeze. Mumbling to himself in the ways that would get one labeled as a madman. 

Deceit hums chugging down the rest of his glass before willing it to refill, a smirk playing on his lips “Speaking of Logan, how are those secret adventures to his room going?” He attempts to change the subject with practice ease.

He holds in a snicker as Remus’s cheeks become dusted pink, the intrusive side hiding his face in the other’s chest. “I tried to gross him out again, try to spook em, ripping out my heart and dropping on the book he was reading. And the delicious nerd had the audacity to get excited and ask to dissect it!” he humbles into Deceit’s chest before looking up at his scaled face distraught and still blushing lightly “It was horrible!” 

Deceit lets himself laugh this time, chuckling at Remus’s demise, “oh it sounds absolutely dreadful.” 

Remus nods before hiding his face again, hips wiggling slightly with a frustrated shriek that causes Deceit’s ribs to seemingly feel like they were rattling, he merely runs his hand through the duke’s hair letting him scream it out. 

It takes a few minutes for the side to finish, mumbling something about gross feelings, Deceit’s ears ring softly from it, but he doesn’t mind. 

The room settles back into a comfortable silence for the moment, the only sounds being of the creative sides’s stim toy and the television’s narrator drowning on about the process of a female snake going through pregnancy. 

“Dee-Dee can you lay eggs?” Deceit startles, giving a surprised blink, too used to sudden outbursts. Remus had quickly sat up, staring at him with wide mischievous eyes and large maniac smile on his face.

“Ree, if you hadn’t noticed, I’m male and that’s a female snake on screen. I highly doubt I could.” He replies almost fondly to the strange idea. He can see the other’s eyes flickering over his face as his thoughts raced. You could almost see them flashing through his eyes if you stared into them.

“But what if you could?” Would you eat it, cracking it open to slurp out the insides?” 

Remus cackles bouncing slightly “Or-or maybe keep it around and let rot. Turning it into a festering ball of stink!” 

The snake side couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose “As delightful as that all sounds, I don’t think I would do any of that. Though you’re welcome to do so with yourself.” He can’t help but raise an eyebrow as the side moves closer, breath smelling of his latest snack. 

“Do it with me! Let’s make an egg!” Remus moves closer, softly knocking their foreheads together and shaking his head to nuzzle their noses against each other's. “I bet they would be massive! What do you think we would make, some mysterious mix of snake and octopus wriggling inside ready to devour souls hehe!” 

Deceit can’t help roll his eyes, he loves Remus, but really he is not going to willy nilly and start making eggs with him. Remus probably didn’t even actually care about making eggs the sneaky bastard. 

He gently pushes the Duke away “Remus-” 

“Pleeeeeese Double Dee, just some egg making between two bros cause they gay!” ugh, well now how was he supposed to say no to that. 

“Alright fine, I’ll sleep with you tonight-” Remus’s face had gone from pouty to instantly a wide smile that would unsettle anyone “But only once! And then we go to bed after.” 

Remus lets out a dramatic groan as he climbs the back of the couch and flops onto the ground on the other side “Fiiiine, you’re no fun…” 

“Oh yes, I’m such a party pooper aren’t I” Deceit drawls sarcastically before quickly downing his second glass of wine, disappearing the glass with a small poof before standing up and walking around the couch to his fallen friend “Really would think you’d be grateful, considering I’ve let you change my anatomy before~...” Remus had never let go of that one special snake fact he learned from Logan. 

The creative side bolts up from the floor with the sound of bones popping “hmm I do so enjoy that little change~” he purrs towards Deceit, childishly wiggling his eyebrows before grabbing the snake sides hand to tug him off to his room. 

One would be surprised by how clean the duke’s room actually was, save for the mystery stains of course. One could never be sure if its blood, paint, ketchup. Or many other things in the splattering of dark colors in the carpet. 

Everything sat neatly in its place, bed against the back wall, with sheets semi neatly made, weapons rach against a side wall next to the closet and a desk on the other side of the room. Littered with papers with chaotic scrollings and detailed doodles all over them. A couple of shelves lined with Shelves sat over it, lined with grotesque clay figures, disfigured to missing limbs or pouting out guts. 

Remus lets go of his hand to scramble onto the his bed, snapping away his clothes and summoning a bottle of lube on the bedside table. Looking to Deceit with eyes like a predatore ready to eat him alive. 

Deceit can’t help but smile heatedly as he returned the look “So, where do you want me~” 

******

Two weeks!

Two weeks after Remus’s silly idea! 

He foolishly hadn’t thought he was serious about it but here was evidence on his bed that Remus had indeed changed up his anatomy somehow. 

Two weeks of feeling strange. The first couple of days, just extreme hunger and then a complete loss of appetite the rest of the time. Feeling uncomfortable at all hours, only lessened when he was in his snake form. 

He hadn’t understood why it had been happening at first, but with what sat on his bed in front of him...Well he can connect the dots. An egg on his bed, feeling tired and sore...he’s thankful he’s imaginary. 

The egg was surprisingly aesthetically pleasing, going from a bright green-yellow color on top mixing and shifting into a dark olive green to the bottom. The egg was seemingly layered almost like a pinecone and large enough to take up Deceit’s whole hand… well it hadn’t been that size when he first laid it, thank Thomas.

 It had only grown bigger a moment after...Would it keep getting bigger?

Deceit ran a gloveless hand through his hair, hardly any clothes on as he had just woken up for the day and, spending most of his time as a snake, he hadn’t needed them. 

What was he supposed to do with it now? Remus hadn’t said anything after their night together about the eggs. He wouldn’t put it past the duke if he had forgotten, with that mind of his often racing so fast, jumping from idea to idea. 

He could always just bring it to him and remind him of it...but for some reason that made his gut twist unhappily with this strange tightening feeling in his chest.

...He supposed making a nest for it wouldn’t hurt? It’s not like something would actually hatch from it right?... He hoped nothing did, anyway. Surely he wouldn’t be good for the child, if it hatched. 

With another huff, he conjures up two large fluffy blankets and small throw pillows making a nicely sized nest in the corner of the room. It looked like a comfy sitting nook for reading, to disguise the fact that the egg was there.

It’s fine... It will be fine. He fed himself the lie, willing it to wash over him and calm his nerves. Tasting its bitter scent. 

The snake side forces himself to turn away and get dressed for the day, he still has a job to do. He can figure out a better plan to deal with the egg later. 

It was just one egg. No harm.

Everything was fine. 

It’s fine.

#egg fic #Say Something #Demus #deceit sanders #remus sanders #sander sides #writing is hard #intrulogical