men: if she isn’t a size 2 with double Ds, perfect skin, long hair to her waist (natural hair only), white teeth (#fffff6 - #ffffff), hips 43.565 inches exactly, size 6 feet, able to pay all my bills but also spends all day cooking for me, and a virgin at age 24 who loves anal and sucking dick, i won’t even look at her 😒🙄
women: tall guys are hot
men: smh women are so fucking picky stop being such a stuck up bitch
Warning: I love nutrition. ITS SO INTERESTING WHEJZHCBAD(the only human being thatll ever say that, hi, im lea, nice to meet ya)
A/N: i totally did not spend hours of my time searching cool nutrition facts, don’t worry. youll get 1% of the info i collected in this one shot. enjoy!
A lot of people believe that two people of very different status’ can’t be together. (y/n) does, and denies her love for Prince Baekhyun. But the Prince does not.
I looked up from my mortar, and stop moving the pestle through the grainy paste of seaweed green spices. The spices had created tears in my eyes, and fingers to itch. However, added a nice tinge of freshness to the air.
“Are you alright?” the servant named Dee frowned, tilting her head.
I coughed, wiping my eyes with my cream sleeves. “Uhm- yes. Dieffenbachia plant and onions, you know. Contains a lot of chemical irritants.”
She nodded back at me hesitantly, but I know she had no idea about what I was talking about. I laugh silently to myself, still enjoying the fact that many were still so oblivious to medicinal herbs even during my years of work at the palace.
I wiped my hands off on my brown overalls, waiting for her to speak. “Miss (y/n), the prince has conceived an injury through reasons unknown. He requests for you to heal his wounds.”
I sighed loudly, irritated, yet not caring that one of his own servants was standing in the room. “If he needs medical assistance, I recommend him a palace healer. They have more experiences when it comes to his… issues.”
Dee gives me a pitied smile, knowing that I was the one who had to put up with him and his antics the most. “He specifically asked for you, miss. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do against that.”
And here we go again. The servant leaves, leaving me to prepare for my trip to the royal chambers. I didn’t bother changing out of my long sleeved shirt under my overalls- they would get even more stained anyway. Flecks of red would be added to the smudges of green and brown, and my light-colored sleeves would stain.
I grabbed a woven basket, the aged fibers almost falling apart at my fingertips. I pile in the basic needs- clean bandages, aloe vera salves, plantain leaves, calendula oil, you name it, I have it. Several glass pots and petri dishes as well.
I nudged in my favourite pot of mixed nuts for good measure.
I left my little station in the usual neatness that I’m used to. The long table in the middle is cleared, with only a few plant pots here and there on it. The lights that hung low from the ceiling are turned off, and all the cabinets were closed.
When I step outside, the first shock I got was the cold, hard wood under my bare feet.
“Follow me please.”
Honestly, I didn’t need to follow the girl. I’ve been to his Highnesses’ quarters so many times, for every little thing and call. Every cut, bruise, scrape he conceived through ‘training’ and ‘adventures’ was nurtured back to health by me.
Even if I didn’t specialize in his type of medical treatment- more in very severe damage like third degree burns and chronic wounds- the Prince still beckons me to his suite.
We passed through the catered flowered courtyard, courtesy of all the healers in the palace. This is the place where you could find me besides the warehouse. The plant pots, of all sizes- small, big, thin, thick- of all colors decorated the first and second floor. You can look down from the second floor by a fancy black railing, covered in ivy that hung down as if imitating curtains.
The sun shone brightly, but the right amount of clouds balanced it out and created a cool breeze. The perfect day for going outside and enjoying the weather.
The further we walked, the more expensive and luxurious the scenery became. From wooden tiles to marble tiles, the metal hinges and tools to gold and silver, the buildings piling up and becoming higher. The only thing that didn’t change was the nature present, still as bright and blazing as it always has been.
We go up an open stairway, lined with a carpet the color of dripping crimson. It felt soft against my feet, the surroundings becoming more packed in gleaming furniture as we neared the prince’s room.
“Your highness, the healer is here,” the servant knocked politely on the door, three soft knocks against the smooth oak.
Silence came in response.
As if used to this, Dee opens the door carefully, the handle making a ‘click’ and therefore acknowledging that we were entering.
Prince Baekhyun sat there, on his bed, legs spread out, eyes closed, and head tilted upwards to the strays of sunlight.
He looked like a god.
The sun caught the night black strands of his hair, the glossy look of his skin, giving his cheekbones a blinding glow that made me question his humanity.
He only turned his head to us, as if moving the rest of his body was too much effort. I bite the inside of my cheek as his messy locks fall in front of his eyes, champagne pink lips slightly parted, giving us a glimpse of the natural whiteness of his front teeth.
A god of deception, a god of beauty, a god of love.
“Thank you,” he nodded at her once in that royal way of his, that smooth voice rippling over my skin like lead-infused water. I hold back a sigh of content as my ears ring with approval, before I notice that those fiery beautiful eyes were on mine. Not on the girl next to me who he previously responded to. I gulped, before letting our eye contact go and I scan his body for those injuries instead.
It isn’t a distraction from him, I promise myself.
“I’ll leave you to it,” she said formally, but only another girl would have noticed how her voice pitched higher. She leaves without a second look at me, and closes the door behind her.
He’s wearing a simple get up of black pants and brown boots that passes his ankles, a black button up loosely hanging from the prince’s shoulders. The first two buttons are opened, revealing his smooth and untainted collarbone.
I silently understand why girls throw themselves at his feet.
I see no injuries so far, besides the fact that his boots are dirty and had left small prints of mud on the floor. The prince’s hair is ruffled in an undignified way, meaning he was probably doing a form of physical exercise.
He also smells like the fresh air.
I realize I had been staring, and a smile was creeping its way up the edges of his Highnesses’ lips.
“Your highness,” I stammered, lowering down my head, and I inwardly groan. Why didn’t I change clothes like I always did? Why didn’t I change into a dress so I could properly curtsy in front of a royal family member?
I swear, I always get like this. Annoyed, at first with their rich air. Muster up enough courage and confidence to face someone with a high status, and then lose all that the second we come face-to-face.
The prince seems even more amused by my flustered behavior, and that real smile erupts on his face like a pending volcano. “Hi (y/n)!” he waves excitedly at me like a little child, his eyes closing along with the action like they usually do.
Prince Baekhyun always surprises me with his childlike aura around me. When it comes to the servants and nobles, he’s as handsome and serious and charming as he has to be- but around me, the Prince is rather different. Same thing with his lovely mother, the Empress.
I don’t meet the prince of the Byun Empire’s eyes. “What injury do you need help with, your highness?”
He pouts, bottom lip curling slightly. A smile almost slips onto my face at the movement. “You’re so cold, (y/n). You didn’t even greet me back!”
The Prince’s whining was something I still have to get used to in my years of knowing him. “I did greet you back,” I correct, not bothering to put more of an argue-tone to my voice. I shrug. “I greeted you first.”
“With a stupid ‘your highness’!”
“Protocol, your highness. Protocol.”
I was failing horribly at hiding my own teasing tone.
“(y/n)!!!” he grumbles, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Why can’t you just call me Baekhyun? B- A- E- K- H- Y- U- N. Now you try.”
He was messing with me on purpose, and he knew it too well. The Prince seems to enjoy my exasperated expressions.
“Highness,” I say, walking towards the wide oak window sill, placing my basket there so it was within reach. I could see the birds chirp outside, all perched on the golden tower tops and faded porpoise roof. “I would rather we start on treating the wounds. May I ask you to show me where they are, and how they were conceived?”
I take out the pots with leaves and petals, placing them on top of the bandages. My hand went out to steady a wobbling jar, and before I know it, I knocked something over with a single finger- and it landed safely on the soft gauze.
“Here, let me help,” the Prince speaks behind me, voice gentle. I turn back to him to decline his offer(and maybe scold him, a prince, for trying to help a capable healer ), but the only thing I register is the pained groan from him.
A hand shot up to his shoulder, massaging it. His face was twisted into a lasting wince, lips pulled back and posture stiff.
My mind goes into immediate alarm.
I scurry over to him, a fierce scolding expression in my eyes. I slap away the hand on his shoulder, my fingers snapping against his sturdy yet soft knuckles. I was too worried to notice that I just touched his Highness, and that the goosebumps had already started to prickle at my arms and legs.
I look up at him, upset. I rotate a finger in the air, signaling him to show me his back. He sighs; hopefully knowing there was no way he could counter or disagree with me now.
I stare at the injury.
A thick scrape from the beginning of his shoulder made its way down his shoulder blade, longer than a foot and as wide as my hand. Bits of mud flecked the outside of the injury, mixed with flecks of his pale skin, some that were still hanging from the wound and now painted red.
It had taken a piece of his shirt as well, the torn black flap hanging loosely on the side.
“Why didn’t you tell me beforehand that your back was heavily scraped! Then Dee could have warned me to bring better remedies than the ones I have now! These can only provide for minor injuries, but this one has a much large surface- how did you even hurt yourself like this- and the walk back to the warehouse takes longer than ten minutes and I have to come back as well-”
“I could come with you,” he suggested slyly, interrupting and facing me again. Those eyes were playful, obviously light and comical about the situation. I searched for his pupils, the ones I could never find in those dark orbs.
I shoot him a dangerous look. “No. I’ll do as much as I can now, and I’ll quickly run back and forth later. I’ll bandage you as well, to prevent any bacteria from infecting it…”
I unfold the brown package of the plantain leaves, the parchment crinkling under my fingers. I take out several oval plantain leaves, a bit larger than my palm each.
The ripped cloth covers some of the scrape, I realized with a bite to my lip. He’ll… he’ll have to… What will he reply? Will he be disgusted with me? Oh god, no (y/n), please don’t overthink it more than it already is. You’re treating a wound. You’re a doctor. Act like it.
“Uhm… your highness?” I faltered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hesitance and uneasiness in my voice.
“I… your tunique is in the way of the treatment… will you please take it off for me?” the more I talked, the more squeaky and nervous I became.
“Oh… already at second base, huh (y/n)?” the blackette teased, exactly I expected him too.
I huff, all the uncomfortableness having faded away once I realized this was Prince Baekhyun, the man that I’d known for more than four years. Of course he was going to crack a perverted joke.
And then I was exposed to my future emperor’s bare, flawless back.
His skin was as pale as his face, defined with muscles built up with years of training. His shoulder blades were clearly outlined, and I could see the curve of his spine. He was so perfect- and yet he wasn’t, with faded whiter scars flecked here and there. I grazed a finger over one nearest to the wound, shaped like a crescent moon. The Prince stiffened, and I instantly retreated my hand.
Stupid move (y/n), stupid move.
I grab some of the plantain leaves, the freshest and therefore the greenest for the first layer of the wound- the ones that work best. I smooth them out on the injury, careful not to touch any of his skin. Yet I feel his muscles ripple under my touch, even through the leaves and layers. I suppose he has the same reaction to my touch. No (y/n), no.
He was my superior by so many descents, at the top of the hierarchy and me at the bottom.
Yet the time we spend together… why… why was he always the one that called upon me?
I shoved those thoughts away, pressing them against the back wall of my mental capacity. The one I never visited, where I stored my unfilled hopes. Like the time I was hoping for a promotion, or that one of my family members would finally come meet me.
Next, I cut out stripes of the bandages- so they went over the injury, like a white rectangle that was stuck to his chest.
With a shaking hand, I went for my tea tree essential oil, stored in a dark flask with a cork. I bite my lip- I would have to touch his skin, to disinfect the surrounding flesh.
“Your highness?” I whisper, my voice slightly muted to his ears since I was standing behind him. Being much shorter than him, it’s like I always talking to his back.
“Baekhyun,” he corrected, not hiding the smirk that started to form. I could see it peek out from his defined cheekbones.
“I’l… I’ll have to use oil to disinfect your wound, if that’s alright?” my voice trembled by a bit, but I think he noticed. The black haired man’s lips went from a smirk to a gentle smile, nodding.
“Of course (y/n), you’re the healer here.”
Normally I never had to apply oil. I normally just bandaged the injury, my fingers only barely scraping against his skin, or put on some ice, and give him advice on what to do and what not to do.
His permission seemed to decrease my frazzled nerves a bit, but my fingers were trembling as I smoothed the translucent oil over my finger tips. The liquid felt cool to my burning touch, caused primarily by my embarrassment.
I retracted my fingers from nearing his back, holding them just above my lap so none of the oil smeared against my overalls.
Should I be doing this? Should I really be doing this? Why… this is way out of my comfort zone. Maybe I should stop and call a palace healer. Yes, if I want to save somewhat of my dignity I should do that. I opened my mouth to talk.
“(y/n), are you okay?”
The bothered tone of the dark orbed man send unwilling shivers up my spine, hyping at the top and stilling at the bottom. Another flood came as he turned around, this time ten times as intensifying and powerful as the last shivering wave.
His bare chest was right in my view.
The Prince pressed a finger against my stubborn chin, the muscle easily giving in as my eyes met his.
They were hooded, beautiful, perfect. “Are you okay?”
I cleared my throat. “I… I think we should get a palace healer. They’re more capable,” I moved away from him, heading towards the door. “and they have the supplies we need…” my back was now against him, and I refused to look back at him. I had to get out of here.
The door handle was so close. The room seemed to be suffocating me- my breaths were getting shallower by the minute, and I was itching and aching for fresh air. “… I’m going to call Dee so she can get you some proper treatment-”
My own back slammed against the door so hard my bones rattled seconds afterward. My head was swimming and drowning at the same time, and I could make out a blurry, yet faultless and furious, face staring back at me.
It took me only half a second to register that it was the Prince.
“I don’t want a palace healer,” the man growled, coming closer to me, arms at both sides of my head. He had trapped me- like a bird in a cage. “I don’t want Dee…”
Closer he came, until I could almost feel his skin against mine. “I want you…”
His coral lips were softer than I had imagined.
So plush and warm, like a humid cloud and a hot summer’s day, far on the horizon, alone and perfect. That was the perfect way to describe the feeling of Baekhyun’s lips on mine.
The black curls brushed against my forehead as his hand crept upwards. Before I knew it, I could feel his calloused and rough fingertips against my jawline, cool against my scorching skin. With a gentleness that left me breathless, he tilted my head so our lips fitted even more perfectly.
With brushes so sweet and sinful, he kissed me as if he wasn’t a royal and I a healer- that he was supposed to get married someday to a princess, that I wasn’t supposed to marry the son of a baker downtown.
He didn’t care, and through every touch of his pink lips against mine, he evaporated my worries.
I moaned; I couldn’t help it. No one could have. Baekhyun’s presence was so overwhelming- even more so now that our bodies were only inches apart, kissing sensually. I opened my mouth, and his tongue dived in between my own lips- his wet muscles brushing against the soft skin, making my knees weak.
His tongue teased mine playfully- just like he really was. Baekhyun was utterly benign- a perfect gentlemen, confident, loving, not having a single thought about crossing any boundaries.
I almost kissed him back.
His lips stilled.
I continued talking now that I could properly do so without mumbling. “You’re a prince. I’m a healer, our status’ are so different. What if your father found out that you’re in a relationship with some like me? What shame would you deliver to your father? To your country? As the future ruler of this empire, Baekhyun, I’m begging you- forget me.”
And I slowly realized he wasn’t listening to me.
“You… called me Baekhyun.”
The brightest, most magnificent smile split into his face like a hurricane- uncontrollable, sudden and becoming larger by the second.
His hands landed on my waist, a pressure so sweet and comforting. I squealed as he lifted me up in the air, twirling me around like a father would do on his daughter’s birthday. My hair flew hazardly in different directions, the only sound echoing in my ears was his overjoyed laugh.
“My name sounds beautiful on your lips…” he whispers lovingly against me, having stopped his joyous movements.
Baekhyun’s arms were wrapped around me, my soft body wrapped against his hard one. He leaned down so my forehead touched his, a small smile on his face. “You have no idea… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to be mine. How long I’ve waited to be allowed to kiss you; to hug you, to love you… and now you’re here in my arms…”
His voice was deep and layered with all sorts of happiness. Excitement, contentment, exhilaration.
“What do you mean… how long you’ve waited…” I manage to speak, the words hushed and raw in my throat. After those words heart-melting words, my mind was in a frenzy and my stomach in a pile of goop.
He grinned at my confusion and breathlessness. “My father. I asked him if I could take you as mine, meaning standing beside me in the future. Of course, first he replied with all the ‘you need to marry a fair and beautiful princess!’ crap, but after months of convincing and mother’s sweet-talking, he managed to give me his approval.”
My head was spinning. Baekhyun… wants me? Like, this isn’t? But no, his eyes were as light and real as they always were. And his mother… sweet-talking? I couldn’t help but feel a little bit flattered that his mother also approved of me.
He grinned, dark eyelashes as prominent as ever.
This was too much to take in at once.
I pushed myself off the ground and kissed him again.
Until we were panting, our cheeks and lips pink, the temperature of the room having increased by a couple of degrees.
“I should… probably finish bandaging that wound…”
I turn around, and then finally notice the purple flowers, and I stop, wide-eyed.
They were bold in the sunlight shining right on them. How hadn’t I noticed them before? Obviously freshly picked by the deep black dirt, the tiny lilac flower petals jumbled up in bushels in the plant pot. The inside was yellow, only adding to the effect of it’s beauty.
“You notice know?” I hear Baekhyun whine, his arms coming to rest around my waist. “I had it all planned out…”
I laugh. I couldn’t help it. How much love I held for this man was too much to bear for just a person. That’s why there are two of us. “Heliotropes mean eternal love…”
“That’s right,” he whispers, as he sinks his teeth in the shell of my ear.
I screech, jerking my body away from him as a hand goes up to my ear. “Hey! Why did you bite me?”
“Revenge for not noticing my confession earlier,” he says smugly.
I turned back to the purple flowers.
I deadpanned when my eyes landed on the bush next to the purple heliotropes. “Why did you choose the other plant?”
Baekhyun looks at the cute potted ball of red fluff, standing out and giving the room a cosy feeling. It went well with the oak wood and golden imagery. “Aren’t they pretty? I found them in the botanical gardens when I was walking there a few days ago! And they’re red!” he beams.
“Baekhyun…” I sigh. “Red arborvitae mean… unchanging friendship.”
He stares at me, not even trying to hide his surprise and bewilderment.
The young prince looked so cute, dark brown eyes wide and curls of black brushing against his dark eyebrows.
“Well… we’re in love and best friends?”
I hit him on his chest, making him laugh.
“Okay mister, enough. Turn around and let me bandage you up properly, will you?”
I restart the process of the tea tree essential oil, now having rubbed off my fingers. I confidently rub it against his skin, while Baekhyun takes the lead in telling me some… bad pickup lines.
“You’ve got me acting like ivy… I keep coming back.”
“Hey, (y/n), have I ever told you we fit together like mortar and pestle?”
“What’s your ph, baby? Cause I think we might be soil mates.”
“I’m already regretting this…” I mumble to myself. I finish up quickly, and the torture ends. “Okay, Baekhyun. For quicker healing of your injury, try to eat food that are rich in vitamin A and C. Meaning oranges, broccoli, spinach, carrots, whatever. Also: nuts. Nuts are rich in unsaturated fat, which is good for the growth of the nerve system, brain, and spinal cord. Not to mention that that fat is also really good for your heart.”
“Ah, this is why I love you, (y/n),” Baekhyun grins sweetly, leaning his head down on his palms and elbows on the windowsill where I was reaching for my supplies.
I place a jar of nuts on the table in front of his face with a bang!, trying not to be affected by his words. However, for the first time in my life, my cheeks turn a dusty shade of red. “Eat,” I say sternly, looking him straight in the eye. “I would recommend the walnuts. They reduce inflammation. Cashews for hair and weight loss. And lots of pistachios for anti-depression…”
I trail off as I see the incredulous look in his eyes.
“Uhm… I’ll leave some calendula oil here too. Good for skin care. I mean, I have so much calendula in my office, come by anytime for more,” I say nervously, tapping my fingernails against the wood.
“I’ll gladly do that,” Baekhyun says teasingly, and I roll my eyes.
He pulls me into his chest, my head resting against it as his steady heartbeat reaches my ears. The dark eyed man body temperature was just right, arms around me and head resting on the top of mine.
I open my eyes, noticing the Heliotropes once again and breaking into a smile.
The Prince notices my stare. I look up at him, so close we could almost kiss again.
“What kind of flowers would you have gotten me?” he breathes shallowly against my lips, breath brushing against my skin. I close my eyes, falling further into his soft, warm embrace.
I think about it.
“White jasmines,” I breath back against him, not bothering to open my eyes just yet.
I can feel him smile, I can just tell. “And what do those mean?”
It was little over a year the next time you saw him. The sky was as grey and dreary as ever. You sighed, longing for the gentle kiss of the sun.
The year had been a long and stressful one, constantly testing your limits and patience while ripping your sleep schedule into shreds in the process.
You sit in your bed wrapped in a mess of blankets and sheets with a fresh cup of white tea, the sweet aroma relaxing your tense and over worked muscles.
In your apartment room, was a large window that let you look upon the city and its miserable residents. Life for you was neither sad nor happy. You were stuck right in the center where the only word that seemed to possibly describe it was ‘lonely’.
You were tired and longed for something more. Something new. Something that made you feel. Wishful thinking came hand in hand with the ache of longing as well. Your wish was for colour, as the only ‘colours’ you had ever truly known were the tasteless grey of the walls in your apartment, the gloomy shades of black clouds threatening to release another rain storm, and the ash that filled the hearts of those around you. They were tired, and so were you.
You brought the warm cup to your chapped lips and took a sip, wincing when the scorching liquid met the torn and dry skin. Perhaps you should consider investing in some chapstick…
As you watched the world through your window, you noticed small droplets of water beginning to gather on the glass. The rain was having yet another visit with the the city, you thought. The light sprinkle of rain soon turned to a downpour of rivers that would surely create the scent of rain you used to enjoy. Hesitantly, you considered going out and actually doing something for once, even if it was raining. You never had time to yourself, as work was always asking everything of you (and you always complied). But on rare occasions, you had days where you wouldn’t be asked to go in. Well known to some people as ‘a day off’.
With hesitancy suddenly gone and washed away by the downpour, you made up your mind. You were going out today.
Carrie stood among them stolidly a frog among swans. She was a chunky girl with pimples on her neck and back and buttocks, her wet hair completely without colour.
At sixteen, the elusive stamp of hurt was already marked clearly in her eyes.
she was far from repulsive. Her face was round rather than oval, and the eyes were so dark that they seemed to cast shadows beneath them, like bruises. Her hair was darkish blonde, slightly wiry, pulled back in a bun that was not becoming to her. The lips were full, almost lush, the teeth naturally white. Her body, for the most part, was indeterminate. A baggy sweater concealed her breasts except for token nubs. The skirt was colourful but awful all the same: It fell to a 1958 midshin hem in an odd and clumsy A-line. The calves were strong and rounded (the attempt to conceal these with heathery knee-socks was bizarre but unsuccessful) and handsome