#but anyway cut to a few years later in middle school during the suite life on deck’s run

[seilon]

having the sudden realization that the suite life (+ on deck) put me through a bisexual crisis way before i fully considered not being straight and i just. chose to ignore it

[holy-hyuck]

NCT Dream Reaction: They See You Wearing Their Clothes

warning: there’s like a swear word or two in jaemin’s

by the way, would you guys want me to add shotaro and sungchan as a bonus into these since they’re not in a permanent unit yet?

also no, i absolutely do not have a crush on jaemin, what are you talking about?

Mark

It was so cold, so unbelievably cold in Mark’s apartment. You told him to fix the heating but he’s been too busy binging Netflix to bother. Shivering in your thin tee, you rummaged through Mark’s closet for something warm to wear. If he wasn’t going to get the heating sorted, you were going to steal every last one of his hoodies until he had no other choice.

Throwing the black, oversized hoodie over your head, you made your way downstairs and plopped on the couch beside him, making him turn his attention away from the TV screen and towards you.

“Is that my- Is that my hoodie?”

“Yes, it is. Actually, it’s now mine, at least until you get the heating fixed.” You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

Laughing, he threw his arms around you and started mumbling into your neck.

“Gosh, you’re so cute, you have no idea.”

You let out a whine, surrendering. This was not how this was supposed to go.

Renjun

You stayed over at the Dreamies’ dorm with the intent of catching up with them since their busy schedule meant you barely saw them - especially your boyfriend. A sleepover and a movie night seemed like a great idea.

The boys already had a table stacked with snacks and drinks.

You made the awful decision of wearing denim shorts, which meant twisting and turning for the first thirty minutes of the first movie Jeno picked until he had to go to the toilet and you paused it.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, seeing your discomfort.

You shook your head, looking over at your boyfriend. “Do you have anything comfortable I could wear?” you asked, a puppy-like look on your face (or at least an attempted one), and he obliged, bringing you a pair of his sweatpants.

Once Jeno exited the toilet, you changed into your boyfriend’s clothes, coming back into the living room. Upon seeing you, Renjun burst into laughter, the already slightly baggy (on him) sweatpants completely drowning out your legs so it looked like you were wearing a trash bag over them.

“Y-You l-look great-”

He managed between laughs, covering his face, his head falling back into the couch cushions as he nearly fell on Jaemin. He was hoping his hand also covered his blush because - although he wasn’t sure what exactly it was - something about you wearing his clothes made him feel fuzzy inside and he hoped to see you in them again - just maybe in different circumstances.

Jeno

Out on the beach with your friends was the best way you could think of to spend the last weekend off before school. You sat on the sand, watching Yeri and Jaemin splash each other with water, their swimming suits soaked. They've been at it for the past fifteen minutes, and it all started because Jaemin drank one espresso too much and threw Yeri into the water.

You sat next to Jeno, both of you watching your friends laugh, and next to him sat Renjun, who typed on his phone like his life depended on it. You and Jeno didn't speak much; you were a bit awkward around each other, you'll admit, but that's only because two months ago, you kissed during a game of spin the bottle, and it was a little more heated than you would like, and now maybe, just maybe, you've developed a crush on the black-haired boy.

It was weird - you've known him for three years, and never looked at him that way. Only after the kiss, you started seeing him as this handsome guy with crescent-shaped eyes when he smiled, and not just a friend who wasn't ugly.

Your two friends finally got out of the water, making their way to their towels and drying themselves off. You shivered, the evening weather finally catching up to you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you rubbed the skin harshly, hoping to generate some heat, and hoping you'll be making your way back home soon.

Renjun noticed this and shoved Jeno with his elbow, gesturing to you. When Jeno gave him a confused look, he rolled his eyes and started tugging on Jeno's jacket in an attempt to take it off. They had a little fight to the right of you, but you were none the wiser and ignored them until Jeno cleared his throat. You looked in his direction to see him taking off his jacket and draping it across your shoulders before giving you a small smile.

"You looked like you needed it."

You smiled at him. "Thank you." Both of you looked at the sand beneath your feet, heat rising to your cheeks.

To your left, Jaemin and Yeri exchanged a look and simultaneously rolled their eyes. You were both so goddamn oblivious.

Haechan / Donghyuck

You clipped your hair back with the lonely bobby pin in your pocket, pulling the jacket around you tighter to brace yourself for the ruthless winds outside. Exiting the shop with Donghyuck by your side, you picked up your pace to make it home before it became any colder or windier - which it did, a minute into your journey.

The wind made your eyes water and you shrunk yourself, head down, ignoring your boyfriend, who began failing to catch up to you.

Suddenly, you felt something warm wrap around your neck and turned around to find your boyfriend securing his scarf around it, unzipping your jacket to tuck it underneath, then zipping it back up. It left his neck exposed due to the low-cut t-shirt he wore under his leather jacket, and you frowned at the sight of it, opening your mouth to protest before he interrupted you.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. You look like you need it more than me.”

Wrapping his arm around you, thus offering you even more of his body’s warmth, he led you towards his apartment, where he made you hot cocoa and cuddled you until you felt warm again.

You still didn’t take off his scarf, and he never asked for it back.

Jaemin

Maybe you didn't remember much from last night, however, when you woke up with a white, oversized denim jacket hanging from your desk chair, you were reminded of Jaemin - a loud and charming boy from one of your classes - lending you the covering after he walked you home after one too many drinks. In your defence, you bet with your friend that you could handle more shots than her, and won (the vomiting-in-the-garden part doesn't matter).

You got ready and rushed into your lecture hall, sitting somewhere in the middle and eyeing the students to spot the black-haired boy. When you managed to finally do so, he was already talking to one of his best friends, and the professor had started the lecture.

At the end of the lecture, you went up to Jaemin, who again, had busied himself talking to his friend. But when the other boy, Lee Jeno, saw you, he slapped Jaemin across the chest to get his attention.

Finally, Jaemin turned to you, taking a second or two to take in your appearance, his denim jacket hanging loosely on your shoulders. He almost laughed, his smile getting bigger than you've ever seen it. In the background, Jeno was laughing his ass off at Jaemin's reaction.

You cleared your throat. "Sorry, I just saw it on my chair today. It's yours right?" You took the jacket off of you and handed it to him once the boy nodded his head. "Thanks for last night, I don't know how I've survived but you certainly made it easier. Anyway, I'll see you later. You too, Jeno."

The older boy waved his hand at you and walked to Jaemin as the two of them watched you leave. "They looked good, huh?"

Jaemin looked to Jeno and smiled. "Fucking gorgeous."

Chenle

You may or may not have gotten too comfortable during your last few weeks of university, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie every day around your house, only swapping out the bottoms for a pair of jeans when going out. Honestly, you couldn't even remember the last time you put any effort into your appearance.

However, the dreadful day came when you had to meet Chenle's friends. You weren't dating for long, only a couple of weeks at most, so you felt the need to impress both them and your boyfriend. Thankfully, the plan to go to an amusement park were cancelled and swapped out for a movie night, so you felt okay with throwing on a hoodie and calling it a day. Spotting a bright blue coloured one in the corner of your bed, and realising it's Chenle's, you quickly pulled it over your head and rushed out of your house after realising you were late.

You were shaking the whole way to Jisung's house, hoping to calm down by the time you got there. He graciously let you inside and introduced you to two other guys and a girl, and you hoped they would spare you the embarrassment of wiping their hands after touching your sweaty palm.

"I like your hoodie," the girl said.

"Oh, thank you. It's Chenle's, actually," you replied after a beat. "Um, where is he?" You looked around, unable to spot the blond boy.

Suddenly, you heard a high-pitched scream coming from your right, an exclamation of "cute!" yelled your way, right before being tackled to the ground by the man-child in question. He pulled the hood over your head and grinned down at you.

"I'm guessing you like it?"

Jisung

Grabbing a book off Jisung's bedside table, you plopped on his bed with nothing but his thick, blue robe on. Admittedly, it was warm and cosy; definitely something you would have to steal. You skimmed through some of the pages of the history textbook before becoming bored and chucking it next to you.

Standing up from the mattress, you wandered around his room, waiting until he finished his shower.

"Hey, have you seen my-" Jisung came out of the bathroom, holding a towel to his chest, "-robe?"

He sighed, looking at you in his garment as you smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Can I have that back?"

You skidded across the room to stand in front of him, going on your tip-toes and giving him a peck on the lips. "Nope."

Jisung shook his head at your antics before going to change into some clothes.

[saturnsummer]

the fairytale she never had (will you believe again?)

when sol is invited to a wedding, sol doesn’t think her best friend would follow her. 

aka: solhwi attending a wedding

notes: it just struck me one day, and i really wanted them to see each other outside of the law school moments! while law school defines them, they are certainly people with social activities.

 i adapted this from a similar prompt i saw from a fic many years ago for a separate fandom, and i always wanted to write something similar. this was honestly not met to be multi-part, but i write too much anyways. so multi-part it will be.

 also, it might sound depressing in the initial part where sol is talking about the wedding invitation, but it gets explained later on. 

as always, enjoy! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me!

ao3 link

words: 4135 words

I: 我愿变成童话里, 你爱的那个天使 (i am willing to be the angel of that fairytale you love)

--title inspired by fairytale (童话) by Michael Wong!--

Sol absolutely hates weddings. 

She hated the big social crowds, the way drunk men in tuxedos staggered around with women in one arm and a drink in another. She found no purpose in dressing in lavish gowns, then eating dinner for the next two hours without even feeling full. 

Sol couldn’t blame anyone but herself for this. She can’t help but remember her mother’s failed marriages. The way her biological father left them in the middle of the night, with all their hard earned savings. The way her stepfather, Byeol’s father, would come home drunk and violent towards her mother. It was a memory she couldn’t erase. More than a decade later, she still wakes up in a cold sweat, worrying for her mother and small Byeol’s life. 

She long ago gave up on the concept of love back then. She wasn’t opposed to anyone dating or talking about it, and she certainly didn’t mind short flings. But marriage? Eternal love? The fairytale that everyone hopes to achieve? Sol threw those ideas out of the window. 

So when Sol received a thick, cream-coloured card and envelope, embossed with rose gold foil and flowers, a pretty silver wax seal and her name written in careful strokes of a calligraphy brush, she was stumped. 

Her friend, Im Jiyoon, was getting married. Jiyoon was a good friend of Sol’s, and they occasionally met up for quick meals. Jiyoon was an accountant and climbing the ranks in her company. They lost contact for a period when Sol was in juvie, but they reconnected when Sol was just starting law school. It was only polite that Jiyoon extended invitations to her high school classmate. 

Sol had mixed feelings. The wedding was on a Friday night, which made things good since she didn’t have to wake up early, fitting her schedule properly. But she had nothing to wear. She could borrow a dress and shoes from Yeseul, but the last time she borrowed a shoe from Yeseul, she almost broke her ankle. And she had so much work to catch up on. Yet, not showing up felt rude of her. 

Jiyoon was nice, don’t get her wrong. She was smart, resourceful and lovely to be with in high school. Sol wanted nothing more than for her high school friend to marry the love of her life. But she hasn't been to such social events in years, and being so focussed on school, the legal clinic and contributing to her family, she found it difficult to understand why she needed to go, besides doing it out of courtesy. 

“What’s that?” A familiar voice pipes from behind, drawing her out of her thoughts. There’s the familiar shuffling of several pairs of feet as Sol turns her attention to the one who spoke. Behind her, was Han Joon Hwi with his bag just being set on the table. The rest of the group was just settling in for another study session.

“Ah, nothing important.” She monotonously says before sliding the card in her files. Joon Hwi’s hands catch the card before she can slide it fully and stop her from hiding it from him, or the rest of the group. The rest draw their attention to the expensive card and Sol only stays silent. 

“A wedding? Your friend’s?” Yeseul asks as she picks the card up with perfectly manicured fingers. Turning and feeling the thick paper between her fingers, Yeseul knew it was no cheap manufactured paper. This was expensive, premium, and each card looked handmade from the brush calligraphy. 

“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m going.” Sol says as Yeseul returns her the card and successfully stores it away in her bag. 

“Why not? Don’t you want to be there?” Joon Hwi asks, cocking his head to the side in utter confusion.

“There isn’t much point, is there? I have school and the legal clinic and things to revise for. And besides, I don't have anything to attend in. I just rather send her a gift and treat her a meal.” Sol simply explains. Everyone bombards her with more questions, but she diverts their attention to her paper and the cases they are reviewing today.

Joon Hwi, however, couldn’t get Sol’s reasoning out of his head. He knew Sol well enough to know how much she values her friends, and that she would be willing to drop everything for a friend. Her loyalty was unmatched. It didn’t make sense that she would be held back by her vanity or school work that caused her to not attend such a joyous occasion. 

When everyone is done reviewing the cases and the session ends, Sol is the only one who has her books and papers still scattered all over the table. She still has to review her notes and catch up on a few lectures before she can officially end her day. Joon Hwi was long done, but he stayed put, bringing out a past report he’s done and glancing through it, hopeful to catch any mistakes. The others have headed back or gone to the cafeteria for a meal. 

“Han Joon Hwi, you don’t have to stay for me, you know?” Sol says, her eyes not once looking up as she stays concentrated highlighting her book with a fluorescent orange highlight. She sticks it in her hair when she’s done, raising her head to meet Joon Hwi’s eyes. Joon Hwi only smiles, letting his eyes crinkle. 

“Why don’t you want to attend the wedding?” Joon Hwi asks, still smiling. Sol scoffs. 

“I already said. I’m too busy-” Sol is cut off by Joon Hwi with his teasing. 

“You sure? I think it’s about the groom, though.” Joon Hwi smiles brightly, earning an irritated series of clicks of her tongue from Sol, clearly successful in being teased.

“None of that sort! Who do you think I am, Han Joon Hwi?” Sol rebuts back, throwing her eraser across to him in annoyance.

 Joon Hwi catches it with a laugh, but doesn’t lose eye contact with Sol. A few moments of silence follow, as she looks at the file with the card. Slowly, she draws the card from her file, holding it carefully between her fingers. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to be there. I… it’s my first time going to such a social event in such a long time. And the last time I met Jiyoon was a year ago, back in our 1L.” She says softly, letting her fingers brush her calligraphed name.

“I just… rather not go, you know? Treat her to a nice meal somewhere, maybe a couple drinks. Besides, I’m sure she’s just doing it out of courtesy.” She lets out a light laugh. 

Joon Hwi’s heart softens. He’s witnessed Sol in her different elements. The courtroom, where she’s a powerful woman in command, dressed professionally in a suit and hair in a perfect ponytail. The day-to-day her, where she’s comfortably dressed in jeans and her tanned coat, hair in a bun and post it notes on her jacket. She was always so bold, so confident and so full of fire. It never occurred to him that she would be uncomfortable in social events. She was always the life during dinners, with Bokgi. She laughed loudly, engaged in conversations and seemed so comfortable. He remembers how she would help out the old halmeonis with her neighbourhood on some days when he sent her home, or the times she bought ice creams for Byeol’s classmates. She seemed so extroverted, yet so closed off. Eying her, Joon Hwi reaches out and clasps his hand over hers in an attempt to comfort. 

“I never went to school events, you know? Especially since juvie made me miss it. When I redid my high school year, I didn’t go too. There wasn’t much of a point, since I didn’t have a date or many friends to begin with. If it was Dan, she would have gone, being the popular girl she was back then.” Sol softly says, a small smile ghosting her face.

She remembers the day prom arrived for her school. She was expectant, hoping that the boy she liked would invite her. Or maybe the girls that she occasionally had lunch with will invite her to hang out. But all she got was a stone cold silence the weeks leading up to prom. When everyone buzzed on what they were wearing to prom night, she silently put on her headphones, drilling herself into her science assignments. Of course, she wouldn’t be invited.

She knew the rumours floating in school. How Dan was the perfect one, how she was the failed one. She knew everyone knew she went to juvie. She knows how the boys snicker at her when she walks past them, or how the girls gossip and whisper when she’s eating her lunch. Besides, it didn't help that she was poor. She can’t even afford a dress of her own, let alone go to the event.

Realising what she’s said, Sol quickly draws her hand away along with the card and slots it away in her file. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to blabber on. You must think it’s stupid, I think so too. Anyways, do you have the notes Professor Kim...” Sol quickly apologises and diverts her attention to her notes. But Joon Hwi was no longer listening. He was shattered by how the woman sitting in front of him has never been treated like how she should be treated. It was no secret to Joon Hwi that he cared for his friends, but cared a little more for Sol. He was the one that left post-it notes on her table and pretended he didn't. She was the only one that he would let steal a mouth or two from his ramyeon. He could read her moods just from her eyes. He wonders sometimes, if he sees her more than a friend. 

He won’t hide that she’s beautiful. The way her eyes slant in an elegant fashion, her smooth, slightly tanned skin, and her winning smile that he always found his heart beating faster for. He loves the way she smiles at her extra pickles, the way her eyes light up when she sees Byeol, or the way she argues and practices. The tenacity and desire she has to improve inspires him to work as hard as her. 

This is why when Sol spilled the beans, he couldn't help but feel all sorts of emotions. Anger, towards the people in her school, for not realising such a wonderful student. Anger towards her for degrading herself. Sadness, for her not being able to experience such events. 

As Joon Hwi ended the session with her and returned to his room, he made a promise to Sol. He’s convinced it will work, and he begins planning in his head. 

He will show her the fairytale. 

-----

A week passed. 

Sol had to give a reply in a few days and she has not figured out what to say. The wedding was in a month. She knew Jiyoon would be busy... Sol figures that she should just treat Jiyoon after her honeymoon, knowing how she would be away with her husband as newlyweds later on. 

“Still thinking about the wedding?” Joon Hwi nods at her, her head in her hands. Sol, looking defeated, nods. So much for trying to hide. They were at their pantry area of their dorms, Sol stirring her ramyeon, as Joon Hwi slurps his. It was 3am, and they just finished studying. The next day was a weekend, so it didn’t really matter if they slept late, since they got the privilege of sleeping in.

“What do I tell Jiyoon? I don’t want to sound rude.” Sol mumbles, lazily stirring her soggy noodles.

“Go to the wedding.” Joon Hwi says suddenly, continuously slurping. 

“What?!”

“Sol, how many weddings can you even go to in your life? Are you sure you want to miss this one? Besides, you said you haven’t been to social events. Don’t you want to experience it?” Joon Hwi says, adrenaline building in his voice. 

Sol falls silent. She can’t deny that she wants to experience the feeling of being dolled up, the fun that everyone talks about, and the enjoyment that everyone goes through. And Joon Hwi is right; she wants to celebrate with Jiyoon. But her fear of social events and the past was holding her back. 

Joon Hwi could tell the change in her eyes. He gives a sweet smile, knowing that he said enough to change her mind. 

“Joon Hwi, but what if she doesn’t even-” Sol begins doubting herself as she shoots off her doubts and worries. Joon Hwi calms her down with logical reasons, calming her nerves in between his mouths of ramyeon. 

“But... I’ll be alone there, right?” Sol asks, her voice so soft, Joon Hwi barely picks it up. Her ramyeon is still untouched, and the noodles have gotten soggy and cold. Sol is silent for a moment, as she realises how right she is, for once. It wasn’t like she could ask a date, she doesn’t even have one. And her friends from the study group were out of the question. They don’t even know Jiyoon. Joon Hwi quickly brings up his bowl to his face, hopefully covering it as he feels the heat rising to his face.

“I’ll be your plus-one.”

Sol’s eyes light up and her head rises. Did she hear that right? Han Joon Hwi, her plus-one? 

“Oh, no! No, I didn’t mean it like that! Joon Hwi, no, I can’t-” Sol can’t find the right words to say. He can't? He shouldn’t? He doesn't need to? Sol can’t deduce her own reasonings for this argument. She knows her roommate likes him, and she definitely doesn’t want to be the target of her roommate’s stares if she catches wind of this. Besides, Joon Hwi doesn’t like her. She knows, and she doesn’t want him to get any wrong ideas. He’s her best friend, and confidante. She knows, deep down, his heart is someone else's. 

“I want to.” 

Sol freezes as Joon Hwi finishes drinking his soup. Placing the bowl down, he does as best as he can to lock eyes with Sol seriously, showing her he wasn’t teasing. No, this was out of his sincere heart. He knows how nervous she gets in a new environment, and him being next to her was bound to calm her nerves just a little more.

Sol could see the genuine care and want in his eyes. She knows this isn’t one of his jokes or teases. For a split second, she catches herself thinking if he meant something more. That going as a date, was more than just keeping her company, but for something to develop… 

Her face is flushed red as she looks at her puffed noodles and lukewarm soup. She picks her chopsticks up but is stopped by Joon Hwi’s hand as he shifts the bowl toward him, away from her. 

“Get yourself a fresh one. This is the first meal all day, isn’t it?” Joon Hwi calls her out, covering her noodles. Sol wants to argue for her soggy noodles, but she falls silent knowing how he revealed her secret. She hasn’t eaten all day after running reports and studying. Grumbling, she does as instructed and boils another bowl of ramyeon. When she’s back at the table with a fresh, hot, spicy and red bowl, she dives into it, wondering how she managed to survive the whole day. 

Joon Hwi only gives a small smile looking at the girl slurping her noodles with delight and looking at her. Joon Hwi wasn’t lying. He did want to be her plus-one for the wedding. He knew that more than just being a comfort for Sol, he wanted to make this one day a day she could look back and smile at. That she could be pretty, relaxed and happy instead of stressing over her grades, exams and family. 

“Fine.” Sol says as she continues slurping the spicy noodles. She blesses the spiciness of the noodles, such that she could blame her pink blush on it. Joon Hwi, clearing the cold noodles and getting water for both of them tilts his head in confusion. 

“Come with me to the wedding, if you want to.” She mutters softly, almost shy to let him know. To hide her blush and hide her confusion, she lifts the still hot bowl to her face. She drinks the soup, but chokes on the spiciness. Joon Hwi lets out a light chuckle before passing her a bottle of cold water. Sol looks at him with narrowed eyes of annoyance, but graciously takes the water. 

As he watches Sol eat her first bowl, then a second, as Joon Hwi munches on some crackers, he only smiles and laughs at whatever Sol was complaining about her reports and her frustrations at her cases that she picked. He lets out comforting words, but is rebutted back with Sol saying he will never get it because he’s smart unlike her. 

As he went to bed that night, he only gave a giddy smile, burying his face in his sheets. He scored his point of taking Sol out on a date, and was already counting down. He officially succeeded in the first step of his plan. 

The rest of it required a little bit of help. But he knew who to ask. 

-----

“Yeseul! What is it that you need to wake me up on a weekend? I was up until 4am last night!” Sol grumbles as she places her phone on speaker, rubbing her eyes. It was 8am, way too early for Sol to process any emergencies. Well, if it was Yeseul, she would do it any time. 

“Sorry, unnie. But it’s urgent. Could you meet me in 10 minutes at the lobby?” Yeseul’s bright voice echos. Sol notices her roomie’s bed made, pillows nicely fluffed and sheets tucked in neatly in pure perfection. She isn’t surprised, considering how she gets up early anyways.

“Fine.” Sol says and hangs up, getting a fresh change of clothes and heading to the bathroom to wash up. She throws on a hoodie, grabbing her only tanned ochre coat and grabs her bag, before jogging downstairs to the lobby. There, Yeseul is standing there, with a sling black bag and with one of the many nude heels she has, hair styled to perfection.

“Unnie!” Yeseul waves her hand over. Walking closer, Sol notices two other familiar friends behind as she scoffs. 

“Joonhwi? Bokgi? What are you doing here?” She asks, her hand playing with the strap of her bag unconsciously. She was surprised to see Joonhwi, but even more Bokgi, who usually spends mornings sleeping in. Joonhwi only gives his usual cheeky smile and drags a drowsy Bokgi with him out towards to the main entrance of the school. Dumbfounded, Yeseul takes this moment to link her arm with Sol’s as she leads her out and catch Sol up to their agenda today. 

“What?! You’re bringing me where?” Sol exclaims, her voice echoing throughout the lobby. Yeseul shushes her as she drags a shocked Sol out of school. Yeseul didn't need the whole school to know where Sol was going. 

“Unnie, please? You need a dress for the wedding, and don’t think you are going to go in one of mine or your old ones! Besides, you promised to go shopping with me one day, right?” Yeseul defends herself as Sol sighs. 

Yeseul wasn’t wrong. The wedding was just a week away and she had absolutely nothing to wear. She owned a couple pairs of flats, but they were so old, it would be embarrassing to attend with those. And her dresses were either too big or too small. She was so caught up with school after submitting her reply to Jiyoon, that she would have forgotten about the wedding if it wasn’t for the post-it on her bedside wall. 

“But...but...” Sol couldn’t find any reasons to counter. She knew Yeseul was right. Besides, it’s a weekend. And they had no upcoming tests or projects, so there was no harm in doing something besides studying in the copy room. She nods, defeated, earning a smile from Yeseul. 

“Wait, then why is Joonhwi and- Who’s car is that?!” Sol’s thoughts are cut off when she sees a familiar black sedan waiting by the entrance as Sol and Yeseul just exit. In the car, she manages to see a Joonhwi in the driver’s seat and Bokgi riding shotgun. 

“Yah! Han Joon Hwi! Isn’t this my roomie’s car?” She shouts as she strides a couple of steps when Joonhwi rolls the window down. 

“She loaned me the car for today. Don’t want you carrying so many things back from shopping today.” He replies curtly. Bokgi opens his passenger side door on the right.

“Bokgi-”

“Noona, sit in front. I’m too tired to watch Joonhwi-hyung drive.” Bokgi mutters before he climbs into the backseat with Yeseul. Sol wordlessly settles into the seat next to Joonhwi, who only looks at her with a smile. Sol catches his odd looks and pauses.

“What?”

“Ready for shopping?” He has his cheeky smile on again. Sol glares in annoyance before turning behind to Yeseul. 

“Did you make him drive?” Yeseul shakes her head and spills out her defensive explanation.

“Oppa called me up yesterday! He just said he needed my help to accompany you shopping for a dress!”

“Then, why is Bokgi here? Trying on dresses too?”

“Noona! I’m listening!” Joonhwi only laughs and shakes his head.

“He’s just accompanying me.” Joonhwi says as he begins to drive off. 

Well, Joonhwi wasn't lying. He waited till their quizzes and projects were over before executing this. He knew Sol was busy, and had waited for the busy season to pass before calling Yeseul. He explained that he knew Sol would not go shop for a dress, and he needs her help to accompany him and her. She willingly, too willingly, agreed. 

Next, he asked Sol B if he could borrow her car, knowing how Sol was not going to go home with just one dress and one pair of shoes when Yeseul was involved. Sol B was skeptical, but just passed the keys over to him. Besides, she was going to be in school studying all day; she didn’t need the car. Bokgi joined in, as Joonhwi couldn’t spend hours on end waiting for the ladies to shop. On further thought, Bokgi just might help him out with something. 

“I could go myself with Yeseul. You didn’t have to wake up for this.” Sol mutters just loud enough for him to hear, fiddling with her fingers. Joonhwi returns with a light scoff.

“As if you’ll do it.” Sol glares at him from the side and is ready to punch him, but retracts her hand, knowing she might literally kill everyone in the car. The ride from the school to the bustling heart of Seoul is a rough twenty minute ride. Bokgi takes this time to catch a wink and Sol does the same, but she can't seem to do it. 

Something about Joonhwi bringing her out to buy a dress specially made her heart flutter a bit more than usual. She knew that Joonhwi cared for her. The ways that he left rolls of gimbaps and energy drinks as opposed to coffee on her table during her tough days. The moments when he would offer his jacket as a pillow wordlessly when she wanted to rest her head after hours of studying. The unspoken synchronisation between them was just a showing of how they understood each other inside and out. 

Sol thought nothing of it. She knew him as long as she stepped into school when he saved her from Professor Yang. They spent almost everyday studying, having classes and eating together. After all, they are best friends, and don’t best friends do this? They look out for each other, right?

He is going to be my plus-one at Jiyoon’s wedding. He’s taking me to shop for a dress. 

Sol wonders, truly for the car ride as she stares outside at the blue skies and empty streets of Seoul, if Han Joonhwi meant more than friends to her. If… she wanted more. 

Deep down, she couldn’t deny hoping for more. She liked the way he looked at her, eyes crinkled and smiling in half moons, the sweet smile that she couldn’t help but return. She has never had many relationships, considering her experience in school and afterwards. She was just too busy; too focussed. Seeing how this man cared for her just made her feel so… special. 

She has never felt that way.

[promptprophet]

Welcome back

I am not dead, although I am ready to throw down. Okay so there is a lot under the cut, but by every star in the sky I have been gone from all of my blogs for a while due to some roccuring issues. If any follow my main at @prophet-rebellion then you may have noticed that.

Some pro-tips:

1. Do not attend a gathering with family that does not believe in Covid. Because if they are anything like mine, someone will tell them they tested positive, your Uncle will encourage them to come anyways and not tell a single other person - and then, surprise surprise, everyone ends up with Covid.

2. Do not let your advisor plan your schedule entirely. Even if they are the Dean of your department. Because if they are still like mine, they will give you six classes. Which would not be an issue of 18 credit hours if it were not for the fact that 5 or the 6 are writing enriched. The only one that it not is math-based which is not my strong suite anyways.

But, in other news - I took a toll for the worst at one point. It has since gotten better. Granted, I had to be the biggest pain-in-the-ass to the campus physiatrist because he wanted to revoke some of my medication. Just because I am somehow making all As for the moment does NOT mean that I do not need my ADHD medication.

Speaking of! Yours truly got formally diagnosed with combination ADHD, depression, and anxiety. And after a lot of trial and error, we have found a medication and dosage that actually helps with the latter two! ADHD is still a work in progress because he is fighting me on it. He also doesn’t want me taking my meds unless I have a face-to-face class that day - as if it is some 9-5 weekdays only issue and I do not have class outside of those times, or online ones. But! A work in progress!

Also, Covid gave me the perfect chance to drop an incredibly toxic group of people in my life. One one hand, my mental health is so much better for it, and so is my own sense of self worth. On the other, it is definitely hard to do and hard to adjust to suddenly losing so many people. But I have reconnected with my 14 year old sister for the first time in 5 years - she wants to have lunch. Which is nice considering I have no spoken to my sisters in 5 years for her, 6 years for the older one (the middle). And I am also trying to reach out to my brothers more. It is interesting, because I did not know them until later. I am the oldest out of 5, 2 half-sisters of my mom’s side, 2 half-brothers on my dads, ironically enough.

I am also seeking out a competent doctor even with Medicaid, because I know need two more surgeries. This will make surgeries 4 and 5. It should have been 2 at most. But 5? And that is minimum, not counting if anything goes wrong again. It is taking longer, because I refuse to see my prior surgeon, and the only opening this past winter break as when I had to have my wisdom teeth removed, so, that did not happen.

Given circumstance I have managed to find a place to stay during breaks. Which is great because as some of you may recall I was kicked out after I turned 18 in 2019, and the room I rented over that summer was terrible (maybe leaving a known alcoholic with no regard for privacy alone with a just then 18 year old girl is a bad idea - if the number of times he barged into my room unannounced to try and get me to drink with him was anything to go by), but it was so my parents could travel full-time. Which, they are doing now and I am happy for them because my mom has 10 years maximum if she is lucky before needing oxygen (Smokers Lung), and my dad is dealing with medical injuries he got while serving - they discharged him because they would never heal right.

I have also picked back up with my job on my college campus! So money! And have secured a much better paying job over break than my McDonalds job, meaning I am not so hard pressed for cash. Which is also great because the last week of summer I had to dish out $2500 for my truck after it broke down in Tennessee and we had to get towed back to North Carolina.

So! Down to business! Now that I know what was wrong with me, and I no longer have issues with suicide, I’m on medication, and last semester I had a therapist that was a major help to me. I am actually in a better spot to be here. It has certainly taken a lot of work, and 2020-21 has thrown just about everything that it seems to have been able and hell, I am still looking for a third job.

Speaking of, god damn, the commissions! Jesus H. Christ, I wanted those done by January! And it’s March! Although I have been making progress on them, that is absolutely true - I am working on them a bit oddly though, switching between which ones I do to try and stop burn out and also because I was not drawing while mentally at my lowest. So to anyone who commissioned me who may not be looking at those messages, but sees this, I am sorry, they are being worked on. And I understand this is a ridiculous amount of time to wait for them and thank you all for being so patient.

I have also been considering if it is a good choice for me to come back to this page, and yes, I think that it is. Having something that I do every day has proven to be very helpful, and the amount of joy and love I have for these pages and the followers on them is immense. I was trying to clear out storage on my phone and I have an album just of prompts or asks that you guys have sent that continue to make my day. It really does mean the world to me.

I cannot be too sure if many have noticed my absence, if Prompt Guy did either. But I am stopping it now. I am finally in a good place. And yeah, I have a lot to do still - if all goes according to plan then I graduate next year. So after this I only have two more semesters before I graduate with my Bachelors in Business, with a focus on Entrepreneurship at the age of 20. And I better because I cannot afford to be in college much longer. I want to be back here, and return to my regular postings and interactions. I am getting those commissions done no matter what - that is a constant guilt over my head. Trust me, I know that it is there. I know. But I joined as an admin because I had followed this page the day it was created. And then I saw it had gone dead with no posts, so I applied as an admin. I got it. And things went very well. Well, I intend to hold back to what I wanted when I was first on this page, bringing it back to consistent postings for everyone.

I am here. I am back. And I am staying.

Also, I apologize if there are any typos, I have been doing a lot or writing for homework and personal work (trying to stop burn out and the threat of school ending my love to write) and my eyes have been strained the last few days, so everything is a bit fuzzy. Speaking of fuzzy! Turns out I needed glasses! So I have glasses now!

Yours truly, Prompt Prophet

[stxrrywildflower]

can’t help falling in love (two)

pairing - george weasley x reader

summary - you invite george to be your date to your sisters wedding

warnings - mentions of family/home issues

word count - 1.9k

series masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

traveling by the floo was always a surprise.

you’ve only ever used the system twice in the past; both times being to get from your home to the weasley’s. you almost always ended up there during the different breaks scattered throughout the year.

it only took a few seconds for you to reach your desired destination, the floo usually worked okay with minimal issues.

you stepped out of the fireplace first, feet hitting the living room hard as you stumbled slightly.

george made his way out right after you. his lanky body made it a little more difficult for him to get out of the sizeably smaller fireplace than the one back at school.

“blimey love, you okay?”

“i’m here on one piece so i guess so,” you answered. “you?”

“same,” george replied.

it took a few moments for you and george to adjust to your surroundings before you could actually take in everything.

you were alone in your living room, no one occupying any of the various chairs or couches. the rest of the house was quiet as well. a wave of confusion washed over you. where was your entire family?

“what’s this?” george asked. your bags had been abandoned on the floor the second george had noticed the various muggle trinkets and machinery around the room.

“that’s a television georgie, we watch programs on it. i can show you later if you want,” you offered. george beamed at your response, already jumping up to look at the next item.

of course he still didn’t notice the very apparent lack of people.

but it was still pretty sweet to see him so excited over the things you grew up with. it was no secret arthur was into muggle tech but seeing the interest spark in george was something special.

“merlin, is this baby you?” george held up one of the framed photos that normally sat on the bookshelf. you snatched it away from him in an instant. “yeah no you aren’t seeing that,” you answered. george held his smile to himself. “i’m sure your mum will show me some later.”

commotion was clearly heard from the outside of your home just as you set the photo back down.

“come on, i think my family’s in the backyard,” you informed george. “but uh just be warned, they can be a bit much, my sister especially.”

george nodded. “i’ll be nice but if they say anything rude, i’ll slip them a puking pastille fred and i made.”

you smiled at that. “thanks georgie.”

“so, are you ready to head out? or do you want to see some more things in here?”

george took note right away of your stalling. there was a strong guarantee that the second he gave his answer, no matter yes or no, you would retaliate with something else   

“do you have a bathroom i can use really quick?” george figured that it would be most beneficial for you to go out alone before he was introduced, especially due to his affiliation as your date.

“yeah i can take you there now,” you spoke before adding a “someone’s got a weak bladder.” he rolled his eyes at your joke.

george followed you around the house like a lost puppy. he didn’t know where to go or the layout of the home and certainly didn’t want to leave your side. you promised him a tour later once everything calmed down.

“bathroom’s right here. meet me outside when your finished.”

you then maneuvered your way down the hallway until you reached the door leading to the outside.

“hello,” you spoke as you stepped out, already fiddling with your hands out of pure nervousness.

“y/n!” your family had exclaimed once they saw you.

you stepped out onto the deck alone, shifting slightly uncomfortably under all of their gazes.

your mum and dad were the first ones up. you accepted their only slightly awkward hugs before leaning back against the railing once more. your grandfather was next, his expression a lot more excited. he was always a lot more comfortable with the magic thing, he had married another witch after all.

“cressida, greet your sister,” your mum had spoken to your sister  

“of course she’s in her school uniform. couldn’t even change for the occasion could you?” your sister spat without warning.

“good to see you too cress,” you mumbled as you looked down at your attire. since you and george had come directly from school, you still had to use your uniforms when taking the floo. as much as you wanted to say her sudden words were a shock, they really weren’t.

“where’s grammy?” you questioned.

“out at the store,” your grandfather answered. “she’ll be back soon i’m sure. i know she’s buzzing to see you.”

a smile passed over your face at that just as the entire group outside went quiet once more. you were not about to start a conversation nor did anyone else make the first initiatation.

“so y/n,” your dad started. “how’s school going?”

“oh no dad i don’t think we should talk about-” you were cut off by the door opening. you let out a breath. ‘saved by the bell’ you thought to yourself.

george stepped out on the deck, greeting you with a warm smile before making his way over to where you stood. his hand snakes around you to rest on the railing.

“everyone, this is george,” you introduced, motioning for him to step forward. “george this is my mum, dad, grandfather, and then cressida or the bride-to-be.”

george shook each of their hands respectfully. you were already quirking your eyebrow at his sudden manners. usually by now someone had some prank played on them, especially when george met new people.

“so this is the boy you brought home. i’m so glad to meet my daughters boyfriend,” your mom beamed. “we don’t know a lot about her life at school but i’m glad to finally be meeting you. how long have you two been together?”

you paled. not once did you think your family would assume the two of you were together. you didn’t even prep or have time to make up a story.

george smirked at your near panicked expression. “since the beginning of this year. so that’s what, seven months? but we’ve been friends since first year,” he answered cooley.

you faked a yawn, wanting to get out of the conversation before your mum could come up with questions george couldn’t answer off the top of his head.

“oh dear, you two must be exhausted from your trip. you two are upstairs in your old bedroom. everything’s already ready with your bedsheets and setup. feel free to take a nap before dinner tonight.”

“thank you mrs. y/l/n,” george thanked before turning to you. “ready to go love?”

you nodded, “yeah let’s go.”

the two of you headed back inside. george stopped back in the living room to pick up your bags before meeting you again. he followed you up the stairs and down the hall towards you room which, thankfully, was away from the other rooms on the floor giving you at least a little bit of privacy.

“i hope you don’t mind sharing a bed,” you spoke as you twisted the doorknob.

“you’re joking,” george groaned when he saw the room. “how are we supposed to fit?”

“george come on, it’s fine. this bed is barely bigger than a twin, i’m sure we can squeeze. it’s not the first time we’ve shared anyway.”

“not the first time?”

you took your bag out of george’s hands and placed it in the corner. normally you wouldn’t unpack for such a short weekend but you abe clothes that needed to be hung up to prevent wrinkles.

“don’t you remember the burrow last break?” you questioned. “you and fred almost blew up your room and then molly kicked you out so your room could air out. take a guess where you ended up.”

george grinned at the memory. “ah yeah i remember that. we did make some really good whiz-bangs though. and hey, we only shared because you were sleeping in percy’s old room and he has a bigger bed. when was the second time?”

“after hogsmeade,” you answered. “you thought it would be so funny to push me into the snow only to realize way too late that it was a half-frozen puddle and i got soaked.”

“and then you sat in between fred and i by the fire to warm up,” george finished the story. “yeah that was funny.”

you rolled your eyes. “maybe you should unpack instead of dwelling on my suffering.”

“alright sounds good, girlfriend,” george made sure to add extra emphasis on the final word.

“don’t think you’re off the hook for what you did.”

“and what is that exactly?”

you let out a huff, throwing the shirt you were folding down. it was beyond annoying that george was completely going around the situation.

“george, what were you thinking? i didn’t even think my family would conclude that we were together. why would you say we were dating? seriously, in what world would that be a good idea to tell them that. merlin, everything’s already going wrong.”

“love it’s fine, trust me.”

“it really isn’t,” you groaned, moving your hands up to run through your hair.

“why is this such a problem to you? babes, you invited me to be your date.”

of course george was already starting on the pet names. “don’t you think this is a little weird? i mean what if there’s mistletoe?” you questioned.

george broke out in a short fit of laughter. you frowned, visibly upset at your friends approach to the situation.

“it’s the middle of april. i doubt there’s going to be any mistletoe. besides, we only have to play the part for less then three days. we won’t do anything that makes each other uncomfortable, okay?”

you nodded. you had to admit, george’s words did bring you some comfort. “alright fine, but don’t expect anything from me.”

“well what about cuddling? i mean we are sharing a bed after all.”

you threw a shirt at him. “we’ll talk later weasley. i still need to explain how a muggle wedding works.”

you and george unpacked in sync while you went over everything he would need to know for the weekend.

he seemed to get everything with minimal questions. george seemed especially excited about the wedding reception.

“wait so i need a suit?”

“yeah but i already have you covered. my dad has something that’s your size,” you explained. “what about your dress?” george asked.

“oh don’t worry about that, it’s a surprise,” you beamed. “cress and i aren’t close enough for me to be in her bridal party so i can pretty much wear what i want.”

george nodded. “sounds good. what’s the plan for today and tomorrow again?”

“we have dinner at eight with my entire family tonight. my sisters fiancé jasper will be there too. he’s a lot nicer than her and actually understands, to an extent, me being a witch,” you spoke. “and then we have to be at the wedding venue by four tomorrow and the reception starts at nine.”

“is your grandmother going to be at dinner tonight? i haven’t seen her in awhile.”

you hummed. “oh yeah she’ll be thrilled to see you. don’t be surprised if she mixes you up with fred though.”

george shrugged, a slight frown on his face. “eh it’s fine. it happens all the time.”

a genuine yawn escaped your lips after he finished his thought. “tired?” george inquired. “i didn’t really sleep well last night, too stressed,” you revealed.

“why don’t you lay down and rest for a bit. i have something to work on in the meantime,” george offered. you raised your eyebrows. “and what is that?”

“just a new prank. i don’t want to give too much away but it’s going to be really good.”

you shrugged. “okay, just don’t blow up my room please,” you added. you shrugged off your robes, folding them up to place in your suitcase as you grabbed a pair of more casual clothes.

“i’ll be right back, i’m going to get changed.”

you returned a moment later, tossing the rest of your uniform in your suitcase. “comfy?” george asked, motioning down to your new attire. “very,” you answered as you headed over to the bed.

george leaned down to press his lips to your temple after you got under the covers. “sleep well love.”

your cheeks flushed at the platonic gesture. “thank you.”

george waited a few minutes before he looked at you again, feeling an overwhelming sense of protectiveness as you slept. you were his best friend. it wasn’t strange to feel like that...right?

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

tagging: @goldenxreid @wilburxpancakes @blakeprentiss @criminaly-supernatural @blakes-dictionxry @mrs-dr-reid @weasleytwinsfav

[ryukoishida]

QianQiu/Thousand Autumns Fic: In which gang leader!YWS and school teacher!SQ falls in love.

Title: You’re a Problem I Encounter Fandom: Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Characters/Ships: YanShen Rating: NSFW eventually Chapter: 1/? Summary: Yan Wushi was the proud leader of Huan Yue Group, one of the most influential syndicates in the underground world, who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn. His accidental encounter with the pure-hearted school teacher Shen Qiao was a problem he didn’t expect to get entangled in. A/N: A syndicate!AU that literally nobody asks for. It’s also been awhile since I last wrote a fic, so please excuse awkward/bad writing. Sobs. List of Chapters: [1] [2] [3] 

-

i. First Encounter

“Tie the pretty boy up nice and tight,” Sang Jingxing ordered his subordinates in a lazy drawl, his face half hidden in the shadow of the poorly lit room, but even the darkness couldn’t conceal the cruel smile crawling along the lips of the deputy leader of He Huan Group. As he stepped away from the wall and began walking towards his captive, his grin widening when he saw how much of a mess his men had made of the young man, his foot crushed the discarded glasses that’d been knocked off the man’s face during the brief but vicious fight.

There were no windows, just a lone, bare lightbulb swinging back and forth from the ceiling casting a meager glow of light in the underground chamber.

Glancing down at the half-conscious man bound at the wrists behind his back, Sang Jingxing grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his neck to crane back.

“We don’t want you running back to your daddy so soon again, do we?”  

The only response he received was a pained groan. A sound that sent trills of excitement down Sang Jingxing’s back.

It had taken four trained men to finally take Shen Qiao down. By the time the scuffle ended, Xiao Se had an impressive bruise on his right cheek, Yan Shou had bloodied scratches along one of his arms, Huo Xijing had been elbowed directly in the solar plexus and was still recovering on the ground, and Bai Rong was smart enough to retreat just after receiving a blow that barely missed her eyes.  

After a valiant attempt at escaping, Shen Qiao was no match for the sheer number of guards Sang Jingxing had assigned to keep him under surveillance in the end.

“At least not before we get what we want, isn’t that right, my dear?” Sang Jingxing turned towards the woman with an overly saccharine smile.

Yuan Xiuxiu rolled her eyes at her partner’s theatrics, but after working and managing He Huan Group together for so many years, she was used to his antics by now, so she merely ran a hand through her wavy hair and replied, “I don’t care what you do with the boy – torture him, fuck him – do whatever you want. Just don’t go overboard. We still need him alive if we were to negotiate with Qi Fengge.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Sang Jingxing said to Yuan Xiuxiu’s retreating back as the leader of He Huan Group slammed the cell door shut behind her without another word.

There were no windows, just a lone, bare lightbulb swinging back and forth from the ceiling casting a meager glow of light in the underground chamber.

“Ah… Shen Qiao. Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it was to steal you away under Qing Fengge’s nose?” he’d released his grip on Shen Qiao’s hair, and his head lolled forward like a broken, ragged doll. Blood streaks on his face made his complexion more pallid, and the only sign that he was still breathing was the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Sang Jingxing continued, circling his captured prey like a hawk. “I get that you’re his adopted son, but you aren’t even meant to be his successor, so why does he spent so much of his resources on protecting you?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer, but he wanted to have fun with the boy first before he dived straight into business. With a leering, animalistic gleam in his eye, Sang Jingxing reached out towards Shen Qiao’s bruised face, thumb roughly brushing against the man’s lower lip as he tried to force his finger past the seam of his lips.

Though Shen Qiao was in no shape to fight back, he was not a man who surrendered as long as a drop of strength still remained inside him. He twisted away from his captor’s hand and swiftly angled his head to bite Sang Jingxing’s finger with a snarl, hazel eyes bloodshot from what little adrenaline still lingered in his system during the fight.

Sang Jingxing hissed in pain, fury flashing across his eyes as he yanked his hand back, and Shen Qiao felt a sharp blow across his cheek just a short second later. Taste of iron flooded in his mouth.

“Playing hard-to-get is cute the first time around,” Sang Jingxing muttered while inspecting the teeth marks Shen Qiao had inflicted on him, before he put his hand on Shen Qiao once more, “but I don’t have that much patience, even for a beauty like you.”

He wrapped his fingers around Shen Qiao’s neck and started to squeeze with real intent to hurt.

“Yan Wushi, how did you—!” Yuan Xiuxiu’s muffled high-pitched exclaim transmitted through the thin walls of the basement and was interrupted by a distressed scream.

Before Sang Jingxing could react or shout for backup, he heard the men who were stationed outside the cell yelped in surprise and agony, and two successive bodily thuds later, the cell door was busted open.

Two men strode in with confident steps. The one leading had a cold, lethal look to his maroon eyes, the streak of star-silver locks a stark contrast to his otherwise dark, slicked back hair. In between his index and middle fingers was a small silver blade, still dripping with fresh blood of his latest victims; he wiped the blood off with a clean handkerchief that the younger man standing just half a step behind him handed him with the kind of easy elegance that one couldn’t simply mimic.

“Sang Jingxing, has He Huan Group lost so much money these days that you can’t even afford decent guards anymore?” the older man sneered.

“Leader Yan,” the utter of the respectful title was pleasant enough, but they’d been rivals long enough to know that there was no amiability in this exchange, “what’s the meaning of this?”

“I heard you got yourself a new plaything,” Yan Wushi said, glancing over at the barely conscious Shen Qiao with one of his eyebrows raised, “is that him?”

“What is it to you?” Sang Jingxing asked, narrowing his eyes. His flexed his fingers instinctively, his muscles taut and itching to reach for the revolver tucked inside his suit jacket. If anything, at least he was certain that the bullet would find its target faster than Yan Wushi could cause any real damage with his infamous silver blade. It had been awhile since they last confronted each other face to face like this, but Sang Jingxing could never forget the scars and humiliation of defeat from their last meeting.

“Oh, calm down,” Yan Wushi chuckled, the other man’s subtle signs to initiate the first attack all too obvious under his trained observation, “I’m not here to pick a fight, unless you’ve already forgotten what that was like the last time that happened.”

Sang Jingxing pressed his lips tight, silent anger threatening to boil over in the form of whipping out his revolver and pulling the trigger, but he didn’t dare — not when he knew he’d already lost. The fear of losing once again to this man – this monster – was simmering at the back of his mind, and he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to get away with just a long, ugly cut along his back this time.

“That’s what I thought,” the corner of Yan Wushi’s lips curved up slightly into a cold smile, “let’s not waste any time here. I’ll take what I want, and then we’ll each go our separate ways, hmm?”

“Yu Shengyan,” the leader of Huan Yue Group commanded his assistant with a nod towards the bloodied man still tied up in the chair a few steps away from them. Without further instructions, Yu Shengyan quickly ran over to Shen Qiao and started to cut the ropes loose. With practiced swipes of his switchblade, it took him only a short moment before he freed Shen Qiao.

At this point, Shen Qiao had already completely fainted, and when released from his restraints, he fell forward limply into Yu Shengyan’s arms.

“What do you want with Qi Fengge’s kid anyway?” Sang Jingxing asked. Though he’d given up on trying to keep Shen Qiao in his possession, curiosity still got the best of him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Yan Wushi only said with a laugh.

Carrying Shen Qiao on his back, Yu Shengyan followed his master out of the dank basement cell, thrilled that he got to witness Yan Wushi scaring the shit out of Sang Jingxing and his minions, but mostly confused about the purpose of this confrontation. He didn’t know what to expect when Yan Wushi had suddenly ordered him to come to He Huan Group’s headquarters. To be honest, the young assistant had been half-expecting the gang leader to start a bloodshed for one reason or another — after all, it wouldn’t have been the first time Yan Wushi went off the rails due to the most miniscule of reasons — but he’d never thought they’d be rescuing a stranger.

They were rescuing him, right? Yu Shengyan was hesitant as he carefully placed the unconscious man into the back of the car before slipping into the driver’s seat. Glancing over at his master out of the corner of his eye, the young man almost felt sorry for Shen Qiao, for he recognized that particular look on Yan Wushi’s face.

It probably would not bode well for the man still unaware of what he’d gotten himself into by getting accidentally entangled into Yan Wushi’s life.

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 2/4 - The Importance of Being Idle

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Things get easier between you and Frankie as the storm outside rages on.

Authors notes: Hello! Sorry this took so long (I forgot I had a lab report due this week so I was busy panic writing 6000 words the patient few days!) anyways this is soft makes my heart happy 🥺 thank u for all the support in the story💕💕

Tw: Swearing, dead sibling mentioned (I think that’s all)

Work count: 4.9k

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 2

You don’t know when,or how it happened, but sometime during the night you had found your way over to the heat being emitted from human furnace Frankie Morales. Your limbs were wrapped lazily around him, with your leg over his and your arm resting idly on his chest. You blink into the light emitting a dissatisfied grumble realizing you had woken up. You hear a sigh from above and with one eye still closed, you tilt your head up to see Frankie currently hyper focused on winning whatever game he was playing on his phone.

"You could have woken me up you know.” You say, detaching from him and rolling over onto your back rubbing your eyes. “How long have you been awake?" you ask, yawning.

"Few hours, you’re quite the sleeper, slept through all 4 alarms that went off." He responds, still fixated on his phone.

"Shit, sorry about that. My mother used to say I could sleep for England" you state, earning a soft chuckle from the man beside you. Even after years of working on hospital hours, waking up was always a struggle for you, no matter the time of day. After a few moments of contemplating whether you really had to move, you rip off the covers and scoot out of bed. Tearing open the curtains you let out a dissatisfied groan when you see a snowscape where the parking lot once was. You turn around arms crossed, eyes glazed over inadvertently boring into him. You hear him say something but it doesn't register.

“What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the trance and moving towards your over packed bag to retrieve clean clothes.

“Nothing.” he says, eyes back on his phone. You raise your eyebrows and head into the bathroom to get changed, emerging in sweats and a vintage band shirt that you’d tied at the waist.

"The clash? Nice." Frankie says, as he passes by you into the bathroom, closing the door.

"Ya London Calling" you respond sitting down on the bed and pulling on some socks, not fully listening to what he had said. "I’m going to ask the front desk if we can renew the room, doesn't look like we're going anywhere anytime soon. I can see if there's another one available if you don’t wanna share" You say, when you hear the doors lock click open, knowing he may still be mad at you for not pulling over sooner.

"I mean I don't mind sharing, unless you’d be more comfortable..." he starts, mouth hanging open downturned slightly, as he rinses his hands.

“I’m fine sharing, nice to have some company plus it's cheaper this way.” you say, grabbing the room key off the nightstand.

"Let me know how much it is, I'll pay half" he says, stretching out his back, cursing the mattress for being too soft.

"I feel like you should be paying more since you get the good half of the bed.” you offer, pointing your finger at him.

“I think they call that extortion,” he says, grinning “Oh, see if they have any food while you're down there I’m starving” he calls as you exit into the hallway and make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was looking to re-book the room from last night” you say to the receptionist who you recognized from last night. Suppose she got stuck here as well, you wonder if she’d gotten any sleep.

“For how many more nights?” she asks.

“How long do you think this storm is going to last?” You ask.

“At least a few more days, but then the roads will have to be cleared, so maybe a week? We can book you in for two more nights then go from there though, no one else will be coming in”

“That’d be great,” you say, taking out your credit card. “What about food, is there any way we can get some stuff to make sandwiches or something?” you ask

“Well the culinary staff was trapped here by the storm, another reason why so many rooms were booked, so they’ll be able to have food sent up.” You nod, the hotel was upscale and you hated to think how expensive the food was going to be, but what choice did you have?

“It's past breakfast, but we may have some spare sandwiches leftover, let me just go check.” she offers, returning a few minutes later with a couple of boxes.

“Thank you so much!” you say taking the boxed up food from her.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh yes” you say, “booze, can I buy that here?”

“That, we have plenty of!” she smiles.

~~~~~

You re-enter the room with the boxed up breakfasts, a case of beer and two bottles of wine

“Here food” you say, sliding the boxes off the beer and onto the counter next to the fridge.“We missed breakfast, so it’s probably cold, and I booked the room for another two nights, but we can go from there” you say, reiterating the receptionist's words as you place the drinks in the fridge.

“Planning on sharing that or?” he laughs watching you strategically maneuver the booze into the fridge

“Hey, I get a week off work, I'm going to be drinking. Do I wish it was on a beach in sunny south Carolina? Yes, but this will have to do, and I hate drinking alone so congratulations you’ve just been conscripted” You say, as he empties out one of the breakfasts onto a plate placing it in the microwave for a few minutes.

“Here. Do you want this? You say peeling the sliced ham off your sandwich” waving it infront of his face.

“Not a fan of ham?” he asks, taking it and adding it into his own.

“Not a fan of meat in general, I’m a vegetarian”

“Course you are.” he laughs.

“Bold words coming from a guy wearing a baseball hat inside, in the middle of winter” you say, throwing a balled up napkin at his head.

“So what exactly do you do? Santi never said.” he asks, leaving you to question what Santiago had said about you.

“I’m a doctor, well almost a doctor one more year of residency, hopefully” you say, crossing your fingers.

“Shit, aren’t you kinda young to be a doctor?” he asks, looking you up and down with raised eyebrows.

“Older than I look, but thank you. How about you?”

“I was a pilot, me and Pope served together for a while, but I’m mainly just teaching now. How’d you two meet by the way? I’ve never seen you round base before, I’m sure I’d remember you hanging around” he says.

“He basically lived at my house growing up, well until he went into the military when I was in middle school. ”

“I thought you said you weren’t young” he laughs “So you didn't serve?”

“No, my brother did though, he was a few years older than Santi but they were inseparable.” you state, preparing yourself for the imminent conversation.

“Who?” Frankie asks, slightly offended that Pope had a secret best friend he never introduced to him.

“His name was Parker '' you say, hoping the past tense clues Frankie in.

“Ya I’ve met Parker! Good guy what branch is he in these days?” he says, not picking up on your word selection or how your mouth hangs slightly ajar or how your eyes have gone vacant.

“Was in” is all you say, you avert your gaze staring down at the floor “he passed five years ago in active duty”

“Shit, I’m sorry I…” he stumbles over his words trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Not your fault how were you supposed to know, besides I'm sure you’ve lost your fair share of people.” you say offering him a not very convincing, but reassuring smile. You let the awkwardness hang in the air, not wanting to speak first.

“What... kind of doctor are you?” he says, hoping to cut the tension he’d caused.

“Medical, diagnostics.” you say, exhaling as the easiness you felt around Franki came back.

“So like House?” He asks.

“Ya cane and all.” you laugh, his lopsided grin having returned to his face, as he leans in to grab your plate.

“Hey, I uh.. I need to make a phone call.” He says, washing the dishes in the sink.

“I'll make myself scarce, give you some privacy. Is it fine if I'm in the shower or did you want me to fully vacate the premise? I can go down to the gym for a bit.” you offer.

“Showers perfect.” He says, mentally questioning his word choice there. He waits to hear the water run before pulling out his phone and dialing his mother who was currently watching his daughter for what was only supposed to be a few days.

You let the water wash over you turning on some music to drown out the conversation Frankie was having, not wanting to pry on his personal life. You did find yourself wondering who he was calling just simple curiosity, nothing else. You had decided you liked Frankie despite the rocky start, the more time you spent with him the more you felt like you'd known him for years. You could see why he and Santiago got along so well they were two sides of the same coin, his calm nicely balancing out Santiago's rashness. Or should you call him Pope? What kind of nickname was that, and Santiago was anything but a saint. You made a mental note to ask Frankie for the origin stories later he may be more forthcoming about it than Santiago. Lathering your hair you close your eyes, allowing Frankie’s image to come to the forefront of your mind. He had an old beauty, a kind of beauty that was suited to a ruler of a long forgotten empire. You begin to feel the water run cold, had you really been in the shower that long? You turn off the tap and dry yourself off redonning your sweats and tying the Clash shirt into a crop. As you exit the bedroom you’re met at the door by Frankie who hands you a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” you say smiling up at him.

“Take it as an apology for being an ass yesterday, I was tired and shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum about it, you don’t control the weather”

“Well I guess I should apologize as well for not listening to you, especially considering you’re the one with training in navigating radars.”

The rest of the day is spent in relative silence breaking into conversation every once in a while about nothing in particular. You sit on the couch reading while he sits in the chair across from you book in hand as the news plays faintly in the background. The storm had been dubbed “snowmageddon” by the anchors, not particularly innovative but it got the point across, 20cm had fallen and another 30 was being predicted you groaned internally thinking about how long it was gonna take you to clear off your car. At least you'd have military help. Dinner comes and goes and he doesn't ask you many questions, unsurprising considering how the last conversion had turned out. Instead you tell him about the weirdest cases you’d ever seen come through the hospital and he tells you about the incidents that got him and Santi sent to the hospital.

“Alright I'm going to turn in” he says, as you look up from the rabbit hole you'd currently found yourself stuck in.

“Shit ya good call” you say closing your phone and rubbing your eyes. Once again he beats you to the bed, giving him a prime position to watch in amusement as you dig through your bag.

“Lost something? Seriously, how deep is that bag? What are you looking for?” he inquires.

“Normal pyjamas” you mutter, all concentration currently being used to find something appropriate to sleep in.

“What pray tell are normal pyjamas?” he asks, a confused look plastered across his face.

“Let's just say a certain king of sleepwear was packed for someone who was suppose to be at the wedding”

“Who?” he asks.

“Ah ha!” you cry victoriously, pulling out your day-to-day sleepwear. You exit the bathroom in the silk sleep set you’d gotten a few years back. Frankie’s eyes widen slightly when he sees you emerge, the pyjamas leaving little to the imagination. If those were your normal pyjamas he didn't want to think about what the other ones were. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable by coming off as a creep. Which he was already feeling like by ogling you as you bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. His eyes dart down to look at his hands as you walk around the bed to bed, only looking up once the covers are pulled up over you. He turns off the lamp and settles into the mattress, placing his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

“Please for the love of god, stop moving” he mumbles after 15 minutes of patiently waiting for you to stop wriggling. Your eyes open as you shift again, completely aware of how annoying you must be to him.

“I know I'm sorry, I‘m just..” you move one more time, balling your fists up and slamming them into the mattress in frustration.

“Not comfy” he finishes for you, eyes opening staring up at the ceiling.

“Ya especially since someone took my side of the bed” you bemoan.

“Look, you’ve already slept wrapped around me once, so you can... do it again. If it’s the easiest way for you to sleep.” he says hoping the offer comes off as sincere, and not weird. You chew your lower lip for a second before accepting the fact that it was the only way you’d be able to sleep. He lifts his arms above his head allowing you to position yourself comfortably on top of him, before lowering them down. One hand on his stomach and the other wrapped around your shoulder.

“Don’t even think about trying...” you start, eyes batting sleepily up at him.

“I know you don’t know me well, but i'm not like that. It's not good or fun unless everyones fully and consensually on board.” With that you ease into him, trusting his words. Breathing deeply you drift off to sleep to the smell of clean laundry that you’d come to associate with Frankie.

Day 3

“Hey I'm going to the gym if you need to make a call or whatever” you say, pulling on your sneakers, feeling refreshed from the good sleeps you’d had the past two nights.

“Thanks,” he says, watching you leave before calling to check in on his daughter.

“Hey mom how is she? Good good ya, put her on would ya? Hey darling how are you! Yes I'm going to be home soon. Were just stuck in a big snow storm, did you see it? I wish you were here then we could build a snowman together! Yes just like Elsa and Anna. Yes we can watch them when I get home and absolutely I will try and save you a snowball. Alright, okay, I love you.” He says, a few minutes was more than he’d expected from the kid, toddlers aren’t known for their keen telecommunication skills after all.

“Hey mom, thanks again for watching her. This storm came outta nowhere. We're going to miss the wedding, I know they’re gonna be pissed. That’s not a swear Mom! No, I'm not alone. One of Santis friends she's a doctor. Yes, I mean I don’t know! Why does it matter? Look, I'm hanging up now. I am. No I won't be doing that I love you, I'll call later.” he hangs up shaking his head. Despite what everyone around him thought, the last thing on his mind was dating, his kid was his number one, scratch that, his only priority especially since her mother disappeared in the night. Leaving nothing but a note about having other reasons to live. Whatever the hell that meant. He hears the key unlock the door and watches as you re-enter, not stopping to make conversation, bee-lining straight for the shower. Knowing he’d have a good half hour to kill he dials his phone again.

“Hey Pope” he says, taking the opportunity to call his friend and deliver the bad news.

“Hey ‘Fish where the hell are you guys?” he shouts from the other end, evidently in a crowded room.

“Trapped by the storm, we're not gonna make it.”

“Shit Gen’s gonna lose it, and Stella if it wasn’t for her four sisters Y/N would be in the wedding party they were roommates for years.” He stresses.

“Damn, ya man i'm really sorry, she's in the shower, but I can pass the phone to her when she's out?” Frankie offers.

“No man, don't bother her. I'll text her in a bit. Hey you guys sharing a room?” he questions, the agenda behind it obvious.

“Wasn’t much of a choice, rooms were all booked up.”

“You're sleeping on the floor I hope” A protective tone taking over.

“You know my back’s bad Pope.” he explains calmly, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

“Catfish you better keep those hands to yourself, she's not one of your nightly conquests”

“Man I haven’t been like that since my kid came along” He chuckles, knowing full well that those days were long behind him.

“I'm a serious ‘Fish, she's too good for you, and she's in no place to be fucked over by another guy alright?”

“Look I know she'd never go for me Pope and I'm flattered you think she would. Glad i'm still handsome in your eyes.I’ll call you later” he laughs, ending the conversation on a lighter note.

“Hey” you say, pulling your Boston University sweater over your head, drying out your hair with a towel.

“Pope says hi” Frankie says, hanging up the phone

“What's the nickname mean?” you question, ready to get to the bottom of it.

“That's top secret information” he taunts, shaking the phone at you.

“Oh I'm sure I could figure out a way to get it out of you.” you smirk, raising your eyebrows

“Hey! I have military training!” he exclaims, offended at the insinuation.

“Militarys got nothing on me.” you retort, slapping him on the shoulder as you pass by.

“Well, if the plan is to ply me with alcohol, it may just work” he confesses.

“Perfect” you say, heading to the fridge opening up the wine bottle “let the games begin” you say tossing him a beer bottle watching as he uses a lighter to open it before bringing it to his lips.

“So tell me what does Pope mean?” you ask after a few hours of meaningless conversations and playing a drinking game that went along with the forensic files repeats you were watching. “Is it a dick thing” you whisper yell, causing Frankie to burst out laughing.

“Why? You wanna know what it looks like?” He asks forehead creased the trace of laughter still etched on his face.

“Ew No! but I am asking if it looks like a Pope?” you say trying to hide your amusement with a stern look.

“Which Pope?” Frankie asks in an equally serious tone, curious as to where you were going with this.

“Francis?” you ask.

“Nope” He answers after pausing for a moment.

“Fred?” You ask, now entrapped in a bizarre game of guess who, but in reference to what holy figure most resembled your friends penis.

“Was there a Pope named Fred?” He asks unsuccessfully, stifling a laugh.

“Probably? There were like three Popes at once at one point in time.”

“No his dick doesn't look like the Pope, now can we please stop talking about my best friend's penis!” he exclaims.

“Fine, but this isn’t over.” you say chewing your lip trying to think of other possible explanations when a phone ringing interrupts you thought.

“Shit, Sorry I have to take this,'' he says, pulling out his phone and walking to the next room, forgetting to close the door, leaving you to inadvertently eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Good night sweety I love you to the moon and back I'll be home soon.”

Your eyes go wide as you feel your stomach sink, of course he was married, he was too nice, too easy, something had to have been off. A ick comes over you at the thought of being unknowingly draped over a married man, and you suddenly begin questioning Frankies motives.

“Sorry about that. It's my daughter she uh, I didn’t say goodnight to her last night and she missed it” he says with a slight chuckle, pride evident on his face.

“How old is she?” you ask smiling at how he lit up at being asked about his kid.

“Three” he says, grabbing another beer and grunting slightly as he sits back on the floor next to you.

“Good age” You offer, shaking off the feeling of betrayal and disappointment that had come over you for a brief moment.

“Ya she's perfect” he beams.

“I bet, I mean I don’t know what your wife looks like, but if she's got your eyes watch out world.” You offer turning to face him only to see that his smile had faded, replaced instead by a somber hurt.

“Her mothers not in the picture” He says, clearing his throat and taking a long drink.

“Shit Frankie I'm sorry” you say quickly, feeling like a prize idiot for making assumptions about his character.

“Hey I brought up your dead brother, only seems fair you bring up my ex who abandoned us.” He says with a shrug. “Don’t, don’t look at me like that” He says, shaking his head and knitting his brows together tired of being looked at like he was broken. It was horrible when it happened. It was fucking shitty that she had left her daughter without a care, but now? Hell, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Watching his daughter grow up was worth it.

“Fuck” you say, scrunching up your face “I hate when people do that to me.”

“You need another drink?” he offers, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness into the room, one he was accustomed to after telling his dates about his kid, not that this was a date.

“Ya I need it to wash the taste of foot out of my mouth” you laugh, feeling worse than when your brother was inadvertently brought up.

“Seriously don't worry about it. Speaking of a palette cleanser you wanna watch a movie or something?” he says pouring the rest of the wine into your glass, before grabbing another drink out the fridge for himself.

“Ya but it's gotta be horror, the only thing i'm in the mood for.”

“Didn’t think bringing up my ex was that scary.” he laughs, handing you the glass.

“No, but talking about Santiago's penis was.” You deadpan, causing Frankie to snort out his drink. “What? Do all the girls say that about it? A real nightmare?” you continue, giggling as he coughs through a laugh. “Was it the inspiration for the creature from the black lagoon?” for some reason the stupid bit your doing causes Frankie to double over subsequently encouraging your own laughing fit. After the ache in your side subsides Frankie sits down on the couch next to you. Using his sleeve to wipe any spillage from his beard.

“Any preference?” you ask, leaning your head back against the couch. He shakes his head. “Alright, the Conjuring it is! I gotta pee first though, need anything before we start?” you ask, walking towards the washroom.

“Just you.” he calls out, as the door closes behind you. Fuck, why the hell did he say that. He shakes his head at how desperate it sounded. Jesus christ, he was embarrassing.

You were just tipsy enough that the bathroom's bright lights made you feel wobbly. You cross your arms as you pee, thinking about the words you’d just heard, about how he needed you. Well maybe that was a reach, but it was okay to pretend just for a night? In all honesty, even though this wasn't a date, it was definitely the best time you'd had with a guy… ever, something about him was just so easy. You flush the toilet and open the door washing your hands, hotels were so weird, why wasn't the sink in with the toilet? You felt like you needed to wipe the handle down after every use.

You flop back onto the couch next to him, closer than you’d been when you left, but leaving enough space between you. After a few jump scares that catch even the pilot off guard the two of you found yourself snuggled into each other. You knew the movie was getting to him, because the arm wrapped around your shoulder pulled you closer into his side whenever the ominous music began to play. He wouldn't say the movie was getting to him per say, it was just in his nature to protect others. Even if it was just a stpid movie he wanted to make sure you felt safe. After the movie ends you quickly separate from each other and clear up the glasses, leaving them to ‘soak’ overnight. Frankie gets to the bathroom first, again. Thirsty, you wander back out to the kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water jumping when you think you see a shadow move out the corner of your eye. It was strange, how you loved horror so much while watching it but the second it turned off, any sounds, or hat rack or shadow scared the living daylights out of you. At least this time there would be another person with you. After getting ready for bed you switch off the lights and make your way to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, watching you lift up the bedskirt peering under the bed. “Are you seriously checking under the bed right now?” He laughs, unable to get over how you, a medical professional was afraid of ghosts.

“Better safe than sorry!” you exclaim eyes wide as your head pops up.

“You can't believe in this shit can you?”

“Hey man you get sleep paralysis then tell me that shit isn’t plausible” you respond pointing a finger at him, before pushing yourself off your knees and up onto the bed.

You crawl under the covers and sit up parting your hair to braid it before going to bed.

“Can I ask you a weird favour” he asks, you panic slightly, fuck he was too good to be true, no way a guy was that sweet without an alterior motive.

“Yes, but proceed with extreme caution” you say.

“Can you teach me how to braid hair? I want to be able to do my daughter's hair but I’m pretty terrible at it. Her teacher once asked if she'd gotten caught in a bush on the way in.” Your heart jumps slightly, at the sincere revelation. How, how could one guy be this sweet, and thoughtful and not creepy?

“Of course I can show you.” you say and you proceed to give him a step by step tutorial, followed by a demonstration prior to actually letting him have at your hair so he can try and replicate the motions. Once he got the motion down you’d mistakenly tried to show him how to french-braid it down from the top.

“Be honest doc, how bad is it.” He says.

“Well, maybe we shouldn't have tried a french braid quite yet.” you say laughing feeling the matted mess currently on your head. You turn upon hearing him groan, watching as he leans back into the pillow bringing his hands up to hide his face.

“For someone who's a pilot i'm shocked you can't do this.” you say, hand reaching up to salvage your hair.

“Are you judging me?” he says, sitting back up when he sees you struggling to untangle the mess he’d made.

“Maybe a little.” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand grazed against yours. You drop it to the side upon contact allowing his fingers to work gently at removing the knots.

“Are pilots supposed to be good at braiding?” he asks.

“I just assumed if you could weave in and out of the sky you'd be good with your hands.” you laugh as he frees the last of your hair from the prison he'd made. He watches as you effortlessly put your hair back up into tidy braids.

“You make it look so easy,” he says.

“Well practice makes perfect, but look on the brightside, now you have a sure fire pick up line that'll work on all the MILFs youll be dating!” you exclaim turning back to smile at him.

“Malo '' he mutters, pushing your shoulder slightly as you giggle, dramatically falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers up over you. It doesn't take a moment before you're back around him, breathing silently, and fast asleep. He wasn’t far behind you, he never used to sleep well in hotels, or at all really, not after the mission, but something about this place made it easy. He's sure it's nothing to do with the idle hand on his chest or the rhythmic beating of the heart belonging to the person draped over him.

[ingek73]

Why Meghan Markle Is a Champion for All Women

By Brittany Alexandra Sulc, updated on May 1, 2021

March is women’s history month, and the women of decades past deserve our celebration. Without them, we wouldn’t have the right to vote, own property or have a say in our own reproductive rights. The thing is, if that’s our bar for women’s liberation, it’s really low. The life of Meghan Markle is a perfect example.

This woman, who’s as close to a real-life, modern-day princess as a person can get, has been harassed, scrutinized and picked apart by the media and the royal family alike. In celebration of International Women’s Day, Meghan Markle’s bold moves are proof of how far we’ve come. Our treatment of her is proof of how far we have to go.

Meghan Markle is a new kind of royal, and not everyone’s a fan.

Let’s roll the tapes, shall we? Meghan Markle was born and raised in Los Angeles, California, and identifies as mixed-race. At age 11, Meghan confronted Procter & Gamble about a national dish soap campaign that she believed was sexist. A few months later, the company changed its ads.

She excelled in school, graduating from Northwestern in 2003 with a double major in theater and international studies. She went on to become an actress but met initial resistance because of her "ethnically ambiguous" looks. While she waited for her acting career to take off, she supported herself by teaching bookbinding and working as a freelance calligrapher. In 2011, she landed a lead role in USA’s "Suits," which she continued for several seasons through 2017.

She met Prince Harry in 2016, and the couple hit it off instantly. Less than two years later, they were married, and the following year, they welcomed their first child. At first glance, that sounds like every American girl’s dream. After growing up with Disney, "Princess Diaries" and the "Prince and Me," we all secretly loved the idea of being a princess. Meghan Markle lived out our dreams, but as it turns out, they weren’t as idyllic as we imagined.

In the five years since Meghan Markle met her prince, she has:

Struggled to gain acceptance from the royal family.

Been the target of harsh criticism and constant rumors from the British press and numerous tabloids. It got so bad that Prince Harry filed a defamation suit against one of them, which he recently won.

Had every detail of her past and personal life examined under a magnifying glass and exploited.

Faced significant backlash over her supposed choice to break with royal tradition.

Essentially, she dared to be American, middle-class, mixed-race, feminist and human. And she was punished for it.

Meghan Markle’s split from royal life was a symptom of a society stuck in the past. During Meghan’s time as an active member of the royal family, she faced a markedly different response from the media than her sister-in-law Kate Middleton. Meghan Markle’s previous divorce was picked apart, despite the fact that it happened years earlier. Something as innocuous as rubbing her pregnant belly, a pretty universal expecting-mom habit, was called "vain," while Kate was praised for doing the exact same thing.

Tabloids constantly portrayed Meghan as a rebellious villain set on breaking from tradition. In an 84-minute interview with Oprah, which was a scandal in and of itself, Meghan insists that couldn’t be further from the truth. She did her best to support the royal family, but they failed to return the favor.

When they had the opportunity to go on public record and deny slanderous rumors about her, they declined. In the interview, Meghan Markle stated, "They were willing to lie to protect other members of the family, but they weren’t willing to tell the truth to protect me and my husband."

When she appeared on the cover of almost every British tabloid, the royal institution asked her to lay low, despite the fact that she had left the house only twice in the previous months. It was all about appearances. Speaking of appearances, there was also a discussion about how her son would look when he was born. Specifically, whether his skin would be dark. Between blatant racist and sexist remarks to controlling isolation and a lack of support from "the firm," Meghan Markle’s mental health suffered. Whose wouldn’t?

In the 21st century, we’re still prioritizing appearances over mental health and human welfare. It needs to stop.

Meghan Markle endured all of this while pregnant, breastfeeding and adapting to motherhood. She went on to experience a miscarriage as well. Miscarriages are quite common, and they often happen without any apparent cause. Still, pregnancy is a physically taxing feat, and it’s possible for stress to impact a woman’s ability to sustain a healthy pregnancy. It’s insane that in 2021 we have cause to wonder whether the world stressed a so-called princess into a miscarriage.

How we treat people has a profound effect on their well-being. A modern-day "princess" felt so alone, so mistreated, that she didn’t want to be alive anymore. This is in her own words. She was so miserable that she didn’t feel like herself, experiencing terrifying, concrete thoughts about ending her own life. She felt trapped in a very similar way many of us felt during 2020’s lockdown, isolated and out of options. She sought help and was told no repeatedly because of how it might look, even when her life was at risk.

She attended an event in a beautiful, sparkling blue gown, because she did not trust herself to stay home alone. Harry clung to his wife’s hands in love and fear, while she cried every time the cameras turned away. The pictures show only her smiles.

Meghan Markle is the kind of princess we should all support.

To say that the situation was unacceptable was an understatement. It could easily be said that it was abusive. The dark, controlling nature of royal life was thick with racist overtones. The accusation that the couple abruptly left the royal family was, according to their interview with Oprah, entirely false. And we believe them. They left because, after two years of asking for help, they received none. Harry feared that he would lose his wife due to the toxic treatment by Britain’s oldest institution — much as he lost his mother Diana. The institution was more afraid of losing the favor of the tabloids than of losing the first person of color in their family to depression.

When the couple relocated to Canada, protections for them and their son Archie were cut off. Their location was already public knowledge, so they relied on Tyler Perry’s generous support to stay safe. When death threats are a common occurrence, safety is a pretty big consideration. They later moved to California, where they’ve spent the last year restarting their lives almost from scratch.

Meghan Markle entered the royal family with the intention of being a devoted part of it. There was no sinister plan to steal a prince from his royal lifestyle. Meghan and Harry left out of necessity. In many ways, it was an escape. Leaving simply wasn’t done, but they bravely did it anyway.

Love her or hate her, Meghan Markle deserves your respect.

She had no obligation to live the life Queen Elizabeth, the media, or anyone else expected of her.

In Markle's interview, she stated that during the wedding, her wedding, it didn’t feel like her day. It was a day for the world. The expectation was that she married a centuries-long institution, but she chose to, very simply, marry the man she loved instead. She’s now raising a beautiful family with him, passing on values they truly believe in. That’s a happily ever after we should support.

Whether or not Meghan Markle is a perfectly poised picture of royalty is irrelevant. She’s human, and it’s time we treat her like it. She elected to do what was right for her and her family despite scrutiny from the media and the royal family. Despite opposition from the literal queen.

It should not need to be said in 2021 that all women deserve respect, but apparently, it does. All women deserve respect, especially women like Meghan Markle. Meghan Markle represents us all. She represents the woman who wants privacy in the days after giving birth to her first child. The woman who gets upset with her sister-in-law, then has to defend herself against a twisted version of the story making national news. She represents the women whose health and happiness came second because of damaging stigmas. She represents the woman of color who doesn’t ever get a fair shot, no matter how hard they try to do everything "right."

Like her or not, every woman can see a part of herself in Meghan Markle. That’s why it’s so important to support each other. While the royal family didn’t speak out in support of Meghan Markle, 72 female members of British parliament did. We can only hope that the next time a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman of color joins Britain’s royal family, they think twice about how they treat her. Then, they treat her right.

[chromosome23hq]

august 11th, 1997, 6:05 am, silverhouse apartments

One fine morning, with a mug of coffee in one hand and a watering can in the other, Billie Foster was not prepared for the crack of a gun to kick her into a vision. A crowd. A masked figure. Mayor Peter Webber, now with a hole in his forehead. So many lives altered in one fell swoop that the crowd overwhelmed her. A small stampede had Billie stumbling back into her apartment. Coffee in her monstera and water soaking her feet. She didn't get a chance to see anymore details, only a masked figure and an untimely death.

It’s not something Billie can just ignore, especially when it comes to the death of a public figure, much less the mayor. She needed to tell someone, an officer of some sort who can protect the mayor from anything. It’s when she remembers them, the Omegas. It’s a part of their job description to protect the weak and innocent, which includes the mayor. A heavy and deep sigh leaves between her lips. This is not how she wanted to start her morning. 

august 14th, 1997, 11:45 am, somewhere in the city

This has to be the most boring protection assignment in the world. For the past few days, all Yazmín Navarro Montes’ (also known as Siren) done is escort Mayor Peter Weber everywhere to defend him against an assassination threat. He still has his bodyguards, but extra cushion with Yazmín here, as Prism described it. Of course, it’s unspoken that this also works as great publicity. She had wanted nothing to do with it, which meant Prism had to pick her for this. Her luck always worked that way. Today, she’s starting to wonder if this threat was real at all, or a phony stunt to benefit the mayor and the Omegas. There’s been no suspicious figures lingering around his office or home, no attempts, and no threats sent to him. 

Still, Yazmín doesn’t slack on her job. She always has an eye out, ready to push the mayor out of the way or stop a would-be killer. They’re outside for a few minutes when something starts to bother her. There’s water everywhere she can sense, then suddenly there’s a spike. It’s nowhere near winter, but something freezing just entered the vicinity. No one stands out in the crowd, until—

Already running behind schedule after sleeping in late, Ethan Sato pays no heed to his surroundings as he cuts past a gentleman on his journey to class. He’s cursing himself internally, vowing for the umpteenth time to start going to bed earlier, when his internal monologue is drowned out by a wave of terror. Ethan stops in his tracks, his heartbeat thundering, panic squeezing down on his chest. Breathe, he needs to breathe. He takes in one, shuddering breath, knowing that this—whatever this is—isn’t his, then turns around and he sees—

“Oh, my God.” He claps his hand over his mouth. Behind Ethan is the Mayor, haloed by his own blood as he lays on the footpath. It takes Ethan a solid minute to process what he sees, what he feels, before he scrambles backwards, yelling, “Help! Somebody help!”

As soon as his co-worker had walked in, Jaewon Oh had scampered off for his break. An entire hour away from inane questions was exactly what he needed. Deciding to take a stroll to his favorite nearby coffee shop was done automatically, he ate there almost everyday. Unfortunately for him, his hour was coming to an end and so he made his way back with an extra sandwich in his hand. 

He was contemplating whether or not he could get away with leaving the store early when he saw it. Or, rather, them. A person in a mask appeared seemingly out of nowhere and Jaewon, curious, watched as they walked ahead of him with purpose. something about this didn’t feel right, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on but there was a sinking feeling in his gut. 

Should he do something? No, yes? He was just about to shake off the feeling, not wanting to get involved in business that wasn’t his own, when he saw a man ahead of him go down. It took him a moment to register that it was the mayor and said mayor had just been shot. The masked figure was running and Jaewon watched, frozen to his spot, as they did so. On the sidewalk ahead of him the mayor lay dying, the particles of energy around him turning a meek gray as the life left him. 

Jaewon took several steps back and pressed himself against a storefront, brows furrowed. it couldn’t have been a normal bullet, a gun going off was loud. this had been too quiet. suspicion rose in him, humans could quiet a gun, sure, but not to that extent. could … could it have been a mutant? Jaewon looked back at the scene that was now filled with people, all as terrified as they were shocked, and wondered. It certainly seemed like a possibility. shit, he’d just witnessed the mayor getting shot, the mayor being killed. Soon enough police sirens would echo down the street and detectives would go looking for bystanders. Not wanting to be questioned, he quickly walked in the opposite direction and stewed in his own theories.

Sitting on the stairs of a building that had been ‘under construction’ for five years now (he’d been keeping track of time—the crew seemed to have abandoned it), David Castillo withdrew his flask and took a swig, eyeing the passersby—trying to find who best to focus on. Woman with the dog thinking about how the groomers screwed her poodle’s nail polish up completely? (he didn’t agree, they looked marvelous)—she walked by too fast. Man with the shirt that read ‘D.A.R.E - to keep kids off drugs’ and was already thinking about that sweet weed he would score later? Also too fast. 

That was the only problem with a staircase in the middle of an ‘under construction’ type of place!

Voices swirling around, from those thinking about their affairs to those thinking about their loyal spouses, he shook his head viciously. 

And then a strong voice emerged. 

Strong emotion.

Strong passion.

Strong thought.

‘Got ‘em.’

Followed by screams—real ones.

And a silence. Even amongst the screams... a silence.

It’s too late. 

There’s barely any noise between the mayor standing in front of Yazmin, and dropping to the ground. Blood is everywhere. Some of it’s even on her suit, her hands. She had bent down to hold the wound without thinking, before realizing it’s all too late. 

There’s people running away in the crowd, and that’s how she knows the shooter isn’t far ahead. She’s running before the bodyguards do, head going through anyway she could to slow them down. Every option can lead to civilian injuries or worse. Shit! Yaz speeds up, water rising from her side pouch and striking out toward the assailant’s ankle as they round the corner. It misses by an inch. 

As she enters the alley, she sends a dozen sharp edged droplets at the wall with a yell for them to stop. But no one’s there. The only evidence that remains is a spray painted symbol.

august 17th, 1997, 5:34 pm, ramer cemetery 

Peter Webber is found dead on sight. Upon inspection, they’re unable to find a bullet but water is found. Because of Yazmín’s ability and past criminal record, the suspicion falls onto her. Banks and schools are closed early that day, and remain that way until the funeral. National news channels cover it nearly twenty-four seven, wondering how the mayor of one of the most prominent cities in America was shot in broad daylight and by who. All channels in New York cut into their current programming to broadcast the funeral, from the funeral home to the drive to the cemetery. Crowds line the streets during the procession to show their love for the beloved mayor, as well as grieve his loss and the loss it is to the city. His children and wife thank those for being there with them through this difficult time. The vice mayor, who was sworn in days before, tells the city they’ll get through this together and follow the vision Mayor Peter Webber had.

august 18th, 1997, 9:30 am, new york city hall

This isn’t the first time that Han-Byul Song (also known as Prism) stands surrounded by cameras, microphones, and journalists waiting for what he has to say. But he can say that it’s the first time dealing with them like this. Individuals who once looked at him as if he was like them, now they see him as something else. It doesn’t sit right with him, none of this sits right with him. However, he’s a professional and never the type to let someone see him when he’s at his lowest. With a straightened back and squared shoulders, Han-Byul begins his statement. 

“Ladies and gentlemen of the city, my name is Prism and as you all know, I’m the current leader of the Omegas. We are tasked with protecting the lives of the innocent, both mutants and non-mutants. Recently, we were given the mission to watch over and protect Mayor Peter Webber, sending one of our own to act as one of his bodyguards.” His eyes fall on Yazmín, the young mutant standing beside him with a cold stare and a rigid body. “Despite our best efforts to protect the mayor, we—” Failed. The words fall from his tongue but it doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it. He can see the questions that are ready to leap out of their mouths, the hunger in their eyes, beasts. They were all beasts. “However, this doesn’t mean that our mission ends here. We’re now undergoing an investigation to look for and capture the person behind this. Once we find this individual, we’ll bring justice to all of you but also Mayor Webber.” 

There are questions, lots of them, and he answers, some of them. There isn’t enough or maybe that’s what he tries to tell himself as Yazmín takes his place to read over her apology. He’s listening but also not, he’s mainly just watching her and the crowd. Even though she was there acting as a bodyguard, she’s a suspect. Just because of her ability, just because she’s a mutant, just because they needed a scapegoat. 

OOC INFORMATION:

Mayor Peter Webber died on August 14th, 1997 and his funeral was held on the 17th. Various radio talk shows and news articles report on his death. Your muse can react however they want to this! 

The masked killer is Daichi Kato (played by Admin Kashia). No muse is aware of him killing the mayor, outside of Magneto. Yazmín is under the suspicion of partaking. 

This marks the true beginning of The Brotherhood showing themselves to everyone, which also means they’re recruiting people in. Your muse has the decision to join them but be aware of the true purpose of The Brotherhood! The spots are unlimited. 

If you play a Xavier student or staff member, things will be tense as Charles plans on what to do next.

And that’s the way the pussy crumbles.

[snake-eggs]

Robert Knox is trying to rule the world with evil fashion and he is also probably giving his own daughter an extremely dangerous and potentially lethal illness without her knowledge just to win the Global Innovation Race

Yes, hello, it's me again, back with some more details about Miami that really are not important in the slightest... But, I love wandering around Hitman levels and listening in on dialogue and picking up on little details peppered throughout the World of Assassination, so I thought I'd share some more of my findings from not actually playing the game.

As many of you already know, there is a laboratory on the top floor of the Kronstadt building where whitecoats are working on some sort of biochemical suit. The suit Sierra is wearing monitors bodily functions including stress levels, brain chemistry, and her vitals. I also get the impression that maybe there's an audio or video feed as well, because one of the scientists comments that the suit lets them know everything that's going on in and around the person who is wearing it.

It should also be noted that Robert Knox bought Sanguine fashion after the deaths of Novikov and Margolis, and Sanguine is a luxury clothing company that makes dresses and suits for the ultra elite. It's not hard to imagine that by combining the suit tech with Sanguine's fashion, Robert Knox could have access to the locations, actions, and health data of the world's most powerful people.

Well, that sounds terrifying! I thought to myself. Good thing we're murdering this guy, I guess.

Anyway, I doubt I'm the first person to notice that little subplot, but amazingly it's not the only suit-related scandal to be found in Miami. Because not only does IOI have some really deviously brilliant ideas about what their targets get up to in order to gain power, but they also have some deviously brilliant ideas about the interpersonal lives of their targets.

When Robert Knox cycles through the laboratory on the top floor, he will tinker with the suit and check out its readings while mumbling to himself. Dialogue from him and from the scientists reveals that the suit not only monitors biochemistry, but can also make chemical injections to alter behavior and performance on the person wearing the suit. In this case, Robert Knox was injecting Sierra with dopamine reuptake inhibitors and increasing adrenaline production during the race in order to "give her an edge" and hopefully increase her performance in the race. On top of that, Robert Knox mentions that the suit has a significant radiation leak and that the effects on Sierra's health are unknown but prooobably won't be that bad, right?

Oh, also Sierra Knox has no idea that the suit is even capable of making injections 🙃

Again, I think it's probably a good thing we're going to kill this guy and I carry on with my day.

Now cut to a few weeks later. I'm on the train and spacing out, thinking about this one war movie we had to watch way back in middle school that was about a bunch of soldiers on a submarine facing a nuclear meltdown or something. One of the soldiers in the movie had vomited shortly after having been exposed to radiation in the submarine.

Wait a minute, I said to myself, immediately recalling some other dialogue from the Miami level. Why? Because I have spent so much at that stupid virtual racetrack that the entire thing has been ingrained in my memory like a Sherlock-style mind palace. I am instantly teleported from the real life train to the virtual club. Over the sound of Draufganger blaring across the dance floor, I recall a reporter stating that it was rumored Sierra was having stomach issues just before the race.

Now, a movie I barely remember from seven or eight years ago was hardly a reliable source for information on the symptoms of radiation poisoning, so I whipped out my phone and found that the first symptom of acute radiation sickness is in fact nausea and vomiting. AND that after that initial stage, the illness becomes latent and patients will feel better for a few hours to a few weeks before the more severe symptoms begin. Sierra was racing the day before, presumably in the radiation-riddled suit, and felt sick shortly afterward. Then she felt better during the race. Because I am now way too invested in the lives of fictional (and dead) Hitman side characters, I can't help but notice that this could easily line up with symptoms of acute radiation sickness. Which is of course beyond dangerous and often lethal.

Anyway, I'm not saying that Robert Knox is trying to rule the world with evil fashion and that he is also giving his own daughter an extremely dangerous and potentially lethal illness without her knowledge just to win the race, but I definitely think Robert Knox is trying to rule the world with evil fashion and that he is also giving his own daughter an extremely dangerous and potentially lethal illness without her knowledge just to win the race.

Also there should totally be a way to kill Sierra with radiation poisoning.

[pls-let-me-out]

Invisible string

Chapter 1, 17th and 18th of December

Spending Christmas’ Eve with a complete stranger wasn’t in Will’s to-do list, but sometimes fate really doesn’t care about one’s opinion, and strange shit happens. That’s what happened to Will, he was just chilling, with text-books spread all over the place, hoping anyone would just come and save him, when the doorbell rang. Not fifteen minutes later, Will was moving across the globe to meet his soulmate.

 Will had spent most of his day with Princess Hazel. She had talked him through the procedures, telling him what he’d need to do when the Prince came home.

‘I’m sure he’ll be happy to finally meet you,’ she had said more than once. ‘He’s reserved, really reserved. Don’t let his demeanor fool you, though. He’s a sweetheart.’

She had given him such a sweet, little smile, that Will couldn’t do anything but believe her. It hurt him just to think about meeting his soulmate, but what could he do? He had no chance of leaving.

Then he met Prince Niccolò. It wasn’t love at first sight, not with the way Will’s heart crumbled.

Will had been stuffed into a navy suit, and a long grey French coat, worth more than his apartment’s lease. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, when Queen Persephone sent a glance his way, and he finally stopped, blushing a deep red. The bells rang and a sleek, black car pulled in the driveway of the palace.

It stopped before the fountain. Will’s heart was thumping in his chest, so fast and hard it was a mystery how no one else heard. It was the 17th of December, but the sun was too hot on his skin.

A body-guard pulled the door of the car open, and the Prince stepped out. He was wearing a black military uniform, the only touch of color were the embroidery buttons of the jacket, one of which the Prince was just pulling close, and the medals hanging on his chest.

Their eyes met. From the very first second, Will knew he couldn’t walk away. The mark on his shoulder burnt as though on fire, but not nearly as hot as the tears on his eyes.

The Prince had stilled, too, completely taking in Will’s appearance.

Somewhere, the bells rang again, and cameras went off.

 It was a long ride to the airport, but this time Will wasn’t alone. It was four in the morning, the air was cold, and the silence heavy. They were heading to the Royal Family’s chalet in the Alps between France and Italy, Will hadn’t understood the name of the place. He was half-asleep when they told him, anyway. He wasn’t even sophisticated enough to have ever heard of it, to be honest.

In the reflection of the car window, Will saw that the Prince was giving him his back. He was wearing a suit, still completely black, and an obsidian ring shone on his middle-finger. He was already in the car by the time Will reached the parking lot.

Will wanted to talk, but he didn’t have anything to say. He closed his eyes, and faked sleeping. He actually dozed off at some point, and was awoken by the Prince shaking his shoulder. He wore a black face mask, that only left his forehead and eyes uncovered. Will couldn’t see whether his eyes were black or brown, nor differentiate between the pupils and the irises. His heart jumped up in his throat.

“We’re at the airport,” the Prince said, before hopping down the car.

He had left a blue face mask behind, and Will wondered whether it was for him for half a minute, before deciding he would just take it. It was soft under his fingers, and smelled of oranges.

He and the Prince had only taken a few items with them, the Queen had said many times that their belonging would arrive later in the evening.

They sat beside each other during the short airplane ride, little more than an hour and a half in the air. The Prince was tense in every place they touched each other. Thigh, arm, and shoulder. Maybe he was always like that, he often seemed like a statue.

“We haven’t been properly introduced to each other,” Will said, finally raising his eyes from the ground. His voice was steady, despite the thumping of his heart. “I’m Will.”

“Niccolò,” the Prince replied. “You’re American, right?”

“Yeah. Someone told you?”

“Your accent.”

Will nodded. He didn’t find anything to say for a long moment. “Texas.” He cleared his throat. “That’s my accent.”

“I’ve never been there,” the Prince said. He yawned discretely. God, he probably thought that Will was some sort of uncultured peasant. “I heard it’s horrible, though.” Will blinked at him, and the Prince blushed a deep red. “No offense.”

“None taken. It’s not –it’s not horrible if you’re a white supremacist, though.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely no. That’s why I moved to New York.”

The corner of the Prince’s lips twitched. “There I’ve been.”

“I go to school there.”

“You go to college?”

Will nodded. “You just ended your military service, right?”

The Prince’s face turned dark, as though a shadow had fallen upon it. Nodding, he looked out of the window, clearly putting an end to the conversation. Will tried not to let it get to him. It wasn’t like he wanted to be there, anyway.

 “It’s a mansion,” Will said as soon as he could see the ‘chalet’. “Like, it’s bigger than the mountain peak.”

Prince Niccolò gave him a blank stare. “No, it’s not. This is not even the mountain peak. Have you seen the mountain peak?”

Will bit his tongue. I need to shut up, I need to shut up, I need to-

Then the Prince clicked his tongue, the sound made the blood in Will’s vein rush in anger. “Did–”

Will didn’t let him finish. “You said it was on a mountain, and this is not a mountain! This –this is a village. We are in a village, not a mountain. A village at the foot of the mountain, but still a village. Seriously, did you take me here to kill me? Is that why you wouldn’t even tell me where we were going?”

The Prince blinked slowly, completely unmoved by Will’s rant. Will, who was flushed and panting, as though he had had to run there, instead of having taken the car alongside the Prince.

“Was that sarcasm?” the Prince asked. “Is that your humor?”

“No, that’s–was that sarcasm?”

If that was someone else’s life, Will would have laughed. With tears in his eyes, and cramps in his stomach, because holy shit, that is not something that’s supposed to happen. Who would ever be kidnapped one week before Christmas, to go live with his so-called soulmate, who is the Prince of a small island between Italy and Greece, then dragged to a fucking chalet?

“No, that was me replying to you.” The Prince’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Were you sarcastic when you asked me if I was being sarcastic?”

“Are you being –no wait. You are mocking me!”

The Prince turned to the side. “I would never do that. You are such a put together person, it would be hard to find reasons to mock you.”

Even without seeing his face, Will knew the Prince was smiling. He wondered what his face looked like when he did, whether his nose scrunched up. It wasn’t a strange thought, really, he had just noticed that the tip of his nose moved a lot when he talked, it was only realistic that the whole thing would also–

No. That was a mistake. Will couldn’t do that. Thinking about the Prince’s nose would make him human, and Will couldn’t do that. No sir.

So, Will said the only thing he could think of.

“I want pizza for dinner.” Then the Prince gave him a bewildered expression. “Thank you.”

“It’s not even midday!” The Prince was saying, but Will had already reached the door.

He realized a bit too late that he didn’t have the keys. It was embarrassing to say the least, but he just stood there and made no move to turn back.

 The Prince’s voice turned lower when he spoke in Italian, Will heard it when he was NOT eavesdropping standing just outside the living room on the first floor, but just minding his business. By not hiding. And he was always silent, thank you very much. He hadn’t been careful not to step too loudly, nor knock into anything. He never did.

Since Will couldn’t understand Italian, he just waited until the Prince didn’t talk for a couple of minutes before dropping in the room.

“Where you watching me,” the Prince asked, although it sounded more like an answer than a question. He was sitting on the floor, just in front of the fireplace,

Will’s skin heated up, as he crossed his arms. “No, absolutely not.”

“I saw you.”

“There was nothing to see.”

“You were standing there, not moving, with your ear against the door.”

Will’s silence lasted a bit too long. “You must have confused the coat hanger with me.”

“The only coat hanger is attached to the wall next to the door, on the other side of the floor.”

Will clasped his hands. “So you agree with me that this house is massive!”

“You were–”

“You seem to know a lot about me. Were you spying on me?”

The Prince stuttered. Will almost pitied him for a second. He had lived with his siblings for years, there was no way he’d lose an argument. From what little he’d heard about the Prince from Hazel, he guessed they didn’t fight nor bicker often. He had no practice in front of Will. For once in his life, he was glad for his sister Kayla’s habit of being nosy as fuck, which had given them countless occasions to fight.

“Your pizza will be here at twelve,” the Prince ended up saying, after some grumbling in Italian. Or Greek. Will didn’t know much of either, but it was probably Italian.

“Why? Won’t you be eating it too?”

“Italian pizza is different from American pizza. You, like, share one with multiple people, right? Italian pizza isn’t supposed to be eaten in slices. You eat a whole one.”

“Like, you don’t cut it? You fold it in half and stuff it in your mouth? I’m seriously confused.”

“Of course you cut it!”

Will shook his head. It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. “When will yours arrive, then?”

“At twelve.”

“You –you seriously need to work on your communication skills, man.”

Once again, the Prince’s unblinking stare settled on Will. “Right.” He cleared his throat, the air around them shifted to awkward.

Will supposed it wasn’t surprising, they were strangers with a house all to themselves, after all. He dropped on the floor in front of the Prince, so close to the fire his skin heated up immediately. He drummed his fingers on the hardwood floor, the sound echoed in the silence.

“So, are you like giving me a tour?” he asked.

The Prince tilted his head to the side. “Couldn’t you just look up the city on Google Maps?”

“I meant of the house. I mean, if you’re as put together as you don’t look, I guess you have it–”

“I look very much put-together.”

“You are sitting on a floor, when there are multiples sofas, you look at me like a deer caught in the headlights whenever I talk, and your nose scrunches up when your lips move downwards.” The Prince opened his mouth, and Will silenced him with a wave of his index finger. “Don’t fight me on this, it’s happening right now.”

The Prince’s silence prolonged for a moment, before he brought his fingers to his nose, smoothing it out. Will felt a strange kind of pleasure with the knowledge that the Prince was blushing.

“Wait, what were you doing before coming in here then? I thought you were exploring.”

“I don’t normally snoop around people’s houses. Or chalets. Or mansions.”

The Prince looked at him from under a thick layer of lashes. “Castles?”

Will shrugged, a grin pulled at his lips. “When the occasion arises.”

For a moment, it looked like the Prince may laugh. He didn’t, and Will tried to keep the disappointment hidden. He shouldn’t even be disappointed, damn.

“So, where is my tour?” Will continued.

“I haven’t been here in ages. I’m not even sure I remember where things are supposed to be.”

“Good then!” Will clasped his hands, a smile erupted on his face, as the Prince flinched. “We’re exploring!”

“But–”

“I can snoop around if the owner of the house is with me.”

“Your logic baffles me.”

Will rose to his feet, so fast his head started spinning, and bent down to grab the Prince by the shoulder. “Come on! We don’t have forever.”

“We’re literally stuck here for a week,”

Will tried pulling the Prince up, but he seemed cemented on the floor. “Time flies when you have fun!”

“We’ve been here for half an hour and it already feels like a lifetime.” Despite his words, the Prince stood, his legs wobbled for a moment.

“Wow, rude.”

Despite his words, Will didn’t let go of the Prince’s wrist –his hand had fallen there somewhere during the run, and honestly, why not?– and stopped only when he reached the hallway. Their hand-bags were still by the door, which made sense, since neither of them had tried moving them.

“So, we’ll act like you are a mannered guest instead of yourself–”

The Prince snorted. “That’s incredibly bold to say for someone who believed me to be a murderer less than an hour ago.”

“I was just ranting, and honestly–”

“So that wasn’t sarcasm.”

Will waved his finger. “Don’t try luring me into that loop again.” He exhaled heavily, and let go of the Prince’s wrist to put his hands on his hips. “So, that tour.”

The Prince rolled his eyes, and pointed to the stairs on the left. “The second floor. Go there, and you’ll easily find your way to the attic.” He pointed to the direction they had come from. “That’s the living room, and–” the only other door. “I honestly don’t remember. I think there’s like a corridor? You can reach everything from everywhere. The chalet is all connected, so–”

“Wait, wait, wait. Is this the tour?”

The Prince slowly blinked. He probably spent half of his time doing just that, it was in equal part amusing and annoying. “Yes?”

Will tsked. In the back of his mind, he was aware he was acting like a child, especially when he started stomping his foot on the ground. “In a tour, you need to walk around. Point at the rooms, and tell me something about each of them. Something that will make me smile.”

“I don’t even know what makes you smile.”

“I know, that’s what we need this bonding experience for! So you get to know it.”

The Prince rolled his eyes. “You are probably one of those people who just smile when they see cat videos on Instagram. God, you probably even laugh when you see dogs stumble and fall.”

“I’ll let you know, I actually cry when dogs fall, because they are pure souls, and don’t deserve such treatment.” He sighed. “So, my tour…”

Will wasn’t surprised to hear the Italian grumbling at this point. What surprised him was that the Prince actually gave up, and started stomping toward the mystery door.

“So you only came to the living room, where I was?” the Prince asked.

Without paying much attention, Will nodded.

“So you stayed here? Like an insect when you draw a circle around them?”

Will shook his head. “I’m sorry I have manners and don’t sno–oh my God. Oh my God. Is that –is that you?” Will pointed at the pictures on the wall, eliciting a groan from the Prince. “In a onesie? Oh my God!”

“Who else would it be?” he asked.

“Babies all look the same, you could have told me that was the neighbor’s daughter, and I would have believed you. Oh God, is that a –is that you dressed as a princess? This is priceless!”

“Oh, shut up,” the Prince said, covering his face with his hands.

Will giggled. “You were adorable. What happened to you?”

“Gee, thank you. I may not be a mannered host, but you aren’t the perfect guest, either.”

Will flashed him the finger. “Be glad I haven’t mentioned how you’re still not out of your emo phase. Anyway–”

“I have never gone through an emo phase.”

Will raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Wednesday Addams. Whatever you say.”

The Prince huffed. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here.”

“Thank you, I’ve always been told I was a pleasure to have in class.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Yeah, that was a lie. I was always considered too loud and–”

“Always considered?” He scoffed. “More like always was.”

“I will tell your sister about your behavior.”

“My sister? Let’s hope she doesn’t ground me.”

“Well, I’m sorry your father scares me!”

The Prince’s lips started twitching again, and Will wondered why he didn’t just smile. It was far easier than fighting it, to be honest. Plus, he had some freckles on his nose, and Will wanted to see whether they’d stretch or not.

The doorbell rang, a loud sound, that had Will jump in the air.

The Prince snickered. “Come on, pizza is here. Try not to faint when you see our shadows.”

Will stuck out his tongue at him, but the Prince was already in the hallway.

 “You’re giving me the real tour later, right?” Will asked, sitting at the kitchen counter.

The Prince rolled his eyes. “I swear to God, I’m going to put you in the dungeons.”

Will gave him a saccharine smile, and lied through his teeth. “Funny. I looked it up on the Internet, you can’t do that.”

Once again, Will was put under the Prince’s unblinking stare. “You are in a city you don’t know, in a country you don’t speak the language of, with a stranger.”

“I know you, now. You are a bit grumpy, but also a big, big softie.”

The Prince’s face scrunched up, as though Will had put a lemon in his mouth. Would he be offended if Will took out his phone and took a photo? Probably, but it wasn’t really Will’s problem, was it? Unfortunately, the Prince turned his face back into careful blankness before Will could act.

He turned to open the fridge. “We only have water.”

“It’s freezing outside, don’t take it from the fridge.”

Without taking his eyes off Will, the Prince stepped away from the fridge, revealing all its emptiness. Will looked at the fridge. Then at the Prince’s exhausted expression. He couldn’t control the laugh bubbling up inside of him, especially when the Prince took four glasses and filled them with water, not to make more than one trip to the sink.

“I was wondering–”

“If the word tour leaves your mouth, I swear to God, I will close myself in the bathroom.”

“I mean, sounds more like a treat than a threat, but okay. That’s not what I was asking, though.”

“Will this bonding experience ever be over?” The Prince groaned. “Can’t I ever just eat?”

“I’m not stopping you from eating, so –oh, wait. Are those your manners? Are you not eating because I’m not eating either, and that’s what a good host would do? Aren’t you the–”

“I’m jumping out of the window if you don’t shut up,” he grumbled, finally opening the pizza box.

“Rude. Does anyone stay here when you’re not? Like, did we throw someone out?”

“No, I don’t think so. Wait, are you asking me so you can call someone to rob us?”

“That would be pretty idiotic of me, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, like the Queen wouldn’t protect you. You just had to look at her once, with your blue eyes, and your puppy enthusiasm, and she was gone for you.”

The Queen. Will hadn’t wanted to assume, he knew mixed people that could pass as white, and he knew it was rude to ask. So, since the King was white, the Queen black, and Hazel black, he had just thought the Prince was white passing. It must have been written on his face, because the Prince reached over to open Will’s box for him, as though he didn’t want to look at his face.

“She’s not my mother, you know,” he said. “I’m just the King’s bastard son.”

Will gasped. “No one says things like that, anymore.”

“Not where you are from, they don’t.” The Prince took a slice of pizza, and motioned over for Will to do the same. “Listen, you are part of this, now. I’m not going to lie to you, it has both pros and cons. You will never have to worry about money, rent, whatever you used to before. But you have to be extremely careful. Whenever you do something wrong, people will be there to judge you. Things as little as leaving a party too early or too late, you will be seen anyway, and people will try to tear down every single move you make, until even you doubt yourself. Until even you can’t like yourself.”

Will cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like.”

The Prince shook his head. “You don’t.”

Will’s throat closed. He should have told the Prince. He should have looked in those brown eyes, and simply said that his parents weren’t exactly farmers. He opened his mouth. He was about to say it.

“It’s the first time I eat pizza so close to Italy, you know?”

The Prince didn’t pressure him for more, he just rolled his eyes, cheeks dusted with pink. “You really have no idea where we are, do you?”

“Yes, I do! In the border between Italy and France.”

Will’s smug moment was cut short by the Prince’s scoff.

“We’re in Livigno, genius. It’s in Italy. Well, technically it’s on Switzerland soil, but it’s an Italian city.”

Will shrugged, willing his blush to disappear. “You should stop lying to yourself.”

“Says the guy who treats borders between countries like they are no man’s land. ‘Where are you Will?’ ‘Oh, you know, just in the border.’ You should have been given bodyguards, seriously. You are a public danger!”

Will shook his head, but there was no way of hiding the stupid smile on his face. “Going back to pizza–”

“Pizza and tour, two words that will give me nightmares and scar me for life.”

“So, now that we’re talking about tours again!” Will moved so fast on the high stool he bumped into the pizza box and sent it flying to the floor across the room. Luckily, the pizza didn’t fall out.

“Was that you sending the pizza on a tour?”

“No, that was a threat for you.” Will pointed at the floor, where his pizza was looking back at him. “Take me on a tour, or you’ll end up like the pizza.”

“In your stomach? Because I’m not calling the restaurant to order another.”

“Wow, I see the length you’d go for me. I’ll remember it.” He popped down the stool, and bent to take back his food. “Look! It’s not even smudged. You should give me the restaurant’s name, I’ll put on a nice review.”

When he turned, he found the Prince stubbornly looking at his food. “I can take you to the village later. Do you ski?”

“No. Do you?”

“Well, yes. There’s this hotel where you can use one of those sled with dogs. I can call and see if they have a spot for us in the next few days, I’m not sure, though.” He looked up, to see Will staring at him with wide eyes. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Not caring about the dough on his fingers, Will put his hands on the Prince’s cheeks, and squished. “Do you think they have puppies?”

“What the–what are you doing to my face?”

“I’m forcing you to look at me, because I honestly think that I’m more interesting than food. So, do they have puppies?”

Will squished tighter, and the Prince’s words turned out muffled. “How would I know?”

“How would you not know? How can you go anywhere without checking whether there’s puppies or not?”

“You’re here with me. Did you check?”

Will threw his hands in the air. “I just admitted that I didn’t know what city we are in, so make a wild guess, darlin’.”

The Prince shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “We wouldn’t go there today, anyway.”

“I want the tour of the house first, anyway.”

“Sure thing, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, peasant.”

For a second, Will thought he’d gone too far, taken the jokes too lightly, and the Prince would never talk to him again. Then, the Prince just shook his head.

“You are so bad mannered it’s literally scary.”

“My Texan grandmother would be heartbroken over your words.”

“My Italian grandmother would tell you not to talk while you eat.”

Will rolled his eyes, stuffing another slice of pizza in his mouth. “She would love me. I’m lovable. Lovely. I would sweep her off her feet.”

“I’d tell her you called me a peasant and she’d hate you forever.”

“Would she?”

The Prince’s lips twitched, he took a large gulp of water before responding. “No, not really.”

Will scoffed. “I’m far too bright for your lies.”

“Sure thing, principino.”

“What does it mean?”

The Prince sighed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 “I’m calling Persephone,” the Prince said. “That was her doing. Or Hazel’s. I hope to God it wasn’t my father, or I’m fucking retiring as Prince, and they can find someone else to fill the fucking spot.”

So the Prince stomped away, Will heard his angry steps on the stairs, as he went to retrieve his phone. Will just stood there, watching the only bed in the whole house as though he had never seen one before.

During their tour, they had discovered that every bed had disappeared, except for the one in the Prince’s room. A queen size bed –which Will would have found hilarious, in any other circumstance– with far more pillows than necessary.

Outside it was already dark, although it was only five in the afternoon. Will could almost see people on the streets in the village, which wasn’t more than fifteen minutes by foot, or so the Prince had said.

Without anything else to do as he waited for the Prince to return, Will decided to snoop around a little. He stopped in front of the desk in the corner of the room, remembering he couldn’t snoop around. Then the Prince would know that Will was a snooper, a serial snooper, which he had denied being. With a heavy sigh, Will fell on the chair.

There was a trunk in front of the bed. It looked pretty old, probably the first thing in the whole chalet that had a story, and it was in the Prince’s room. Will couldn’t help but wonder what was in it.

The Prince reappeared at the doorframe, heavily panting, leaning forward on his knees.

“Geez, did you run all the way back to your island?” Will asked, a hint of a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you don’t even know the name of ‘my island’,” he replied, making quotation mark with his fingers.

Will stared at him without blinking, much like the Prince often did. “Maybe you don’t know it, and I don’t want to give you any clues.”

“Why wouldn’t I–do you even hear yourself when you speak? God, you’re giving me a headache. A headache!”

The Prince sat on the bed, taking off his shoes to fold his legs underneath himself. He passed his hand through his dark hair, sighing heavily.

“What can I say, it’s part of my appeal,” Will replied, shrugging. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning, darlin’.”

The Prince sighed again. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

Will stretched his arms over his head, arching on the chair until he started seeing black and foggy. He spoke around  a yawn. “So I win.”

“You don’t win shit, don’t you –whatever. That’s not what I needed to say.” He finally took his hands off his face, revealing his frown. “Persephone –that’s the Queen, in case you didn’t catch her name either– said that the other beds needed changing.”

“We can order one on Amazon. Wait, does it exist in Europe?”

“We’re in Asia.”

Will’s eyes widened, and only then did he notice the Prince’s grin. He put his hand on his racing heart. “You’re an asshole.”

“It’s not my fault you have no clue as to where you are, principino.”  The Prince shook his head, and passed his hands through his hair again. “Anyway. She said we can’t get other beds for a couple of days, so we only have this. I’ll just sleep on the couch downstairs. By the way, your suitcase was lost, so only mine was delivered.”

“Lost.”

“Well, as you can imagine, it probably never left the island. Persephone must have told the bodyguards to bring it back to the palace.”

“But why would she do that?”

“She reads too many books, that’s why. She probably thinks sharing clothes is a bonding experience, or whatever.” He fell on his back, making the pillows bounce. “We can buy clothes tomorrow. I don’t want to go out now.”

Will scratched the back of neck. “I didn’t really bring that much money.”

“I told you, you don’t need to worry about it anymore. You can just use one of my cards.”

“I’d much rather not do that. Just–I don’t want to use your money.”

The Prince looked at him for a long moment, but he didn’t insist.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, you stay here. It’s your bed.”

“You’ve been calling me a bad host all day,” the Prince said. “Let me sleep on the couch. I insist.”

“No, you’re sleeping here. It’s your house.”

“Listen, for the past two years, I’ve mostly slept on the ground. I can handle sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“I’m letting you sleep on the couch in your own house.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in my own house.”

“What if we slept together? No wait, that got out wrong. Like, what if we share the bed? No wait, that’s like letting the Queen win. We’ll share the couch!”

“How is that any different?”

“I’ve seen the living room, darlin’. There’s like three couches. I’ve seen couch-sellers with less couches, plus the fireplace is there! It’s perfect. We can even make a blanket fort! It’ll be like a cool sleepover.”

The Prince rubbed his closed wrists on his eyes. “I haven’t done blanket forts when I was a kid, I’m not going to start now. So get it out of your head.”

“You are no fun.”

“Whatever.”

“So, are we having a sleepover?”

“It’s not a sleepover, are you going to call the whole week a sleepover? Because I’m already finding it annoying.”

“Yeah, I know, it’ll give you a headache. Anyway, we need to bring the blankets and pillows downstairs, and take pajamas. Did you bring any?”

 As it turned out, the Prince was quite a bit taller than Will, which he had noticed, but not given too much thought to. Just taller enough that he needed to roll up the pants. The Prince also gave him a pair of sponge socks and a sweatshirt in which he literally swam, and told him where he could find a toothbrush. The neck of the sweatshirt kept falling over his shoulder.

When Will got out of the bathroom, the Prince was also wearing a pajama. Will shook his head, feigning disappointment.

“And you say you have never had an emo phase. You say that to my face, then give me black clothes, as you wear black clothes, and have only brought black clothes.” Will waved his index in front of the Prince, who tried to take a step back, but was blocked by the bed. “I may not know much about Europe. European princes, hell, I didn’t even know your island existed. But! I know everything about emo phases. So don’t you dare lying like that to my face, ever again.”

“You are so weird it’s scary.”

“Thank you. So, blanket fort?”

“Absolutely not.”

[adragonhoardingstories]

Daminette AU (Part 3)

There had been a lot of instances where she had needed to save both her soulmate and in that moment, her own life. There had been a particularly memorable one when she had opened her eyes to find herself in the middle of the Indian Ocean, with her arms and legs so sorry that she could barely move them. But that wasn't even the best part. What was, was that little Marinette who had never had to swim before had to learn it by sheer willpower and following the waves brought them both back to land. 

But anyways, she found out that Talia didn't like her very much - whether it was because she usually helped her soulmate out of situations she created to teach him a lesson or simply because of their first meeting - Talia didn't like her. 

In the last few years, the forceful switch hadn't occured that much, but they occured enough time for her to figure out that her soulmate was the vigilante Robin and for him to know that she was Paris' Ladybug. 

They didn't actively look for each other, knowing that their paths would cross when they were both ready.

Not many people knew of their bond. Right now, on her side, only Adrien and her Nona knew of it. Her parents had but…well that list had been cut down.

And she also had had to tell Viperion, Ryuuko now renamed Draka with a makeover and Queen Bee, now Vespa how had a costume change too so that they wouldn't be caught unaware in battles. 

It hadn't been only once that their bond had activated during an akuma attack. The first time that it had happened, her soulmate had been taken unaware and hadn't known what to do but fortunately he was a good fighter and had the foresight to tell her now former-partner the facts and he guided him through what to do to defeat the akuma. 

Viperion especially became quickly attuned to when they changed and it was his job to give Damian a rundown of the akuma while the other covered for him. 

On her soulmates' side, from what she knew only his mother had known and now his elder brother along with his butler knew too.

The first time she had met his brother had been a fun switch to say the least. 

They had switched in a middle of a fight when he was Robin and Marinette, during all these years had gotten used to having to take care of threats that wouldn't stop halfway when they switched, so she didn't hold back. 

None of her adversaries who she later found out were the Joker's henchmen had been dead but they had been near. 

A man in a domino mask and some sort of spandex outfit had come to lecture him when the fight was over - about how he thought they were making progress but he just had to kill them didn't he?

Marinette hadn't known what was happening but she knew she wasn't going to let her soulmate take the fall for this like she knew he would if she didn't say anything in that moment. 

She cut through his tirade with the same simple first words she had said to Talia years ago. "I'm not Damian."

He man instantly went on alert while her hand found the katana but except from that, she made no move to draw it. 

"I apologise if I've done anything wrong. But I'm not Damian." She repeated. "I'm his soulmate and our bond consists of us  swapping bodies, it's a rare bond - it's called the soul switch - the point is, I've had had to save both of our skins almost everytime we switched before. If he's in a fight, the enemies are to be taken down or he gets punished, that's the M.O we go with. I wasn't aware of any... development…So I apologise, it's not his fault for whatever I've done wrong."

The hero, Nightwing or his brother Dick, as she later found out, had been…well shocked was an understatement. It was the last thing he had expected, he had thought what a lot of people had thought about her, that Damian had no soulmate.

Fortunately, the fight hadn't taken long - she had fought harder adversaries for Damien before so his brother had taken her to the Bat Cave and they had simply talked. 

He was nice enough to catch her up on who he was and what had been happening to Damian recently. 

Both of them had made up a strategy so that if they switched during a fight, one of them would have to say a specific codeword and their partners would know to catch them up. 

It became a bit more complicated when more people were added to Damian's team and he didn't want to tell anyone else but they made it work. 

While it was more dangerous given that Damian didn't have a magic suit, it wasn't more difficult than an akuma attack. 

Having his brother in the know was different, they were actually able to talk, leave message for each other in the hands of their friends and learnt about their partners. 

One of their switches had happened some time after her parent's death. She had gone to the bakery to salvage whatever she could. 

Instead, what she got was the possibility to talk to Grayson and just unload everything in a place where no psychotic terrorist could take advantage of her emotions. 

After that, well she could understand why Damian trusted him so much. 

He was an incredible listener and an even better advice giver. 

She had not only been able to talk about her parents but once she started talking, she also unloaded about her deteriorating situation at school. 

In the meantime, as soon as Damian saw the fire, he had started searching for whatever he could find, because why else would they switch then?

When Damian was back in his own body half an hour later, he made Dick promise him to tell her something.

That's how, the next time they switched, Marinette received an explanation from an unwilling brother about her soulmates' past. And then he revealed to her that Damian had recognised his mother's work. Talia Al Ghul had been the one to kill her parents. 

She didn't hold it against him. As far as she was concerned, that woman was a monster who didn't even care for his own son and her actions did not mean anything to her in regards to Damian. 

She made sure to make Dick promise to tell him that but they both knew that his soulmate wouldn't be coerced so easily. 

That had been two years ago

[incomprehensiblelentils]

Lentils’ 2020 Christmas Movie Rankings

My wife and I watched a lot of Christmas movies this year, and I thought it would be fun to rank them based on which ones I think were most watchable and enjoyable. I’ve left out a few that we watched during this time period, which are classic Christmas movies (Miracle on 34th Street), action movies set at Christmas (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Iron Man 3), or older romances set around Christmas (While You Were Sleeping and You’ve Got Mail), because it’s not fair to rank these amongst, well, some of the movies we saw.

my top 5, for those of you who don’t like reading (which is fair): The Princess Switch: Switched Again, Dashing in December, The Princess Switch, Jingle Jangle, Happiest Season.

my top 3 Chaotic Christmas Movies: A New York Christmas Wedding, 12 Pups of Christmas, The Princess Switch: Switched Again. Please watch these movies if you enjoy chaotic plots. Please especially watch the first two I listed because holy shit my summaries do not properly convey the chaos.

The Princess Switch: Switched Again (2020): Some people on the internet have been VERY RUDE about this movie and I’m sorry they don’t appreciate a true chaotic holiday gem when they see it. This movie involves two Vanessa Hudgenses, Scheduled Vanessa and Spontaneous Vanessa, who are distant cousins and not twins, switching places to try to facilitate Spontaneous Vanessa getting back together with her ex the baker, but Scheduled Vanessa is intercepted by a third cousin Vanessa, Horny Vanessa, who wants to take Spontaneous Vanessa’s place as queen. I don’t want to spoil anything that happens in this movie so that you can experience the batshittery for yourself, but I found every second absolutely delightful. It also has two very good romantic couples who are cute and who genuinely seem to like each other, which is not something I can say for every movie on this list!

Dashing in December (2020): This movie has gay cowboys, is set on a ranch, and features a squaredancing scene, so if that isn’t your bag, you are probably not going to like it very much. I found it deeply charming and the only reason it isn’t #1 is that three quarters of the way through, the lead suddenly turns back into a giant jerk for no real reason and that was very upsetting. But it all works out in the end. The main romance is very cute, there are horses, the horsemanship doesn’t totally suck ass, and there are some fun side characters. It’s not reinventing the wheel, but it’s pleasant.

The Princess Switch (2018): Again, some people are mean about this movie and they shouldn’t be because it is CUTE GODDAMMIT. It is absolutely The Prince and the Pauper but with two Vanessa Hudgenses, but also, it shows the aforementioned two good romantic couples falling in love and they are delightful. I am not saying this is a great masterpiece of romance, but the filmmakers actually tried to give these characters reasons to like each other, which, again, is not true for some of the movies on this list.\

Jingle Jangle (2020): I kind of feel bad putting this movie on the same list as TV movies that were obviously just shit out by Hallmark or whoever, because this clearly had a lot of love and heart put into it, and it really shows. I was so immediately charmed by this movie that I didn’t even mind when it immediately went in very silly directions. I don’t know if the plot makes sense at all (a cute robot shows up for seemingly no reason other than that cute robots are fun!) but it doesn’t have to, because everyone is having so much fun and there’s so much joy in this movie that I was just happy to be along for the ride. Also, I would love to see an entire movie in the stop-motion style from the opening scene.

Happiest Season (2020): I absolutely understand why some people didn’t like this movie, and I don’t want anyone to feel like they can’t dislike it, and also, it’s MY movie, and I love it, and I’m not interested in fighting about it. It helped me come out to my parents and also featured two of my faves kissing and that’s all I need. 

Noelle (2019): I was previously under the impression this movie was bad, and I don’t know why, because it’s a little embarrassing and cheesy at times, but it’s sweet. I suspect what will make or break it for you is if you like Anna Kendrick, and because I like Anna Kendrick, I like watching her play a neurotic Claus sibling trying desperately to fix the problem she accidentally caused. One weird thing though: this movie tried to convince me about halfway through that she was both spoiled and selfish, and I don’t actually think that’s true at all. I think she was a little naive and sheltered and wanted people to like her way too much, but she’s not really shown to be a selfish person - she’s constantly paying attention to other people in the real world and her brother is the one who refused to admit that he wasn’t cut out for the Santa gig and instead fucked off to “find himself” or whatever. It was weird! But anyway, I liked this movie a lot.

I’ll Be Home For Christmas (1998): So this movie...one Christmas Eve when I was in high school, I was having trouble falling asleep for whatever reason so I went downstairs to get some water. My mom happened to have the TV on and this movie was just starting, and she invited me to join her. Fun fact: this movie went to theaters and it stars Jonathan Taylor-Thomas and Jessica Biel. It is one of the dumbest movies I’ve ever seen in my life and at no point does anyone in it actually behave like a human being. It’s about a smooth-talking jackass who has to be bribed to come home for Christmas and then, after one of his dumbass moneymaking schemes lands him in hot water, he gets abandoned in the middle of the California desert wearing a Santa suit and glued-on beard. He then has to beg, lie, and cheat his way home for Christmas dinner so that his dad will give him a vintage Porsche they fixed up together. I have no defense for this character; he is insufferable and only becomes marginally less so by the end of the film. But also, I have to watch this movie every year (usually with my mom, although not this year for obvious reasons) or it doesn’t feel like Christmas. 

A Cinderella Story: Christmas Wish (2019): We own this on DVD and have seen it three times. In our defense, we wanted to support Gregg Sulkin from Runaways and Isabella Gomez from One Day at a Time, both of whom feature prominently in this movie, and also sing songs. This is just Cinderella But At Christmas, and if that doesn’t sound like fun to you, I don’t think anything I can say will change your mind. I will say that the songs are amusingly autotuned, there’s a disabled dog that’s very cute, and I personally think that the leads have slightly better chemistry than some of the pairs on this list. But it is literally just another Cinderella Story movie.

The Knight Before Christmas (2019): This movie is Thor (2011) But At Christmas, and it would have been slightly higher except I always forget about the plot where at the end the knight becomes a cop. Bad, obviously! But anyway, the plot of this movie is: nice but clueless dude crash-lands on Earth for Reasons and bumbles around trying to figure out what’s up, while falling in love with a nice lady. That’s just Thor and you know I’m right. And for as dumb as this movie is, at least it’s ambitious. I have learned that Christmas movies can do one of two things to please me: a) have actors that have decent chemistry and charm and are fully committed to whatever nonsense is going on, or b) have absolutely batshit chaotic plots. This movie is like a 4 out of 5 on the chaos scale and I like it a lot, besides the copaganda. I hope this also gets made into a trilogy and Cole isn’t a cop anymore.

A Christmas Prince 3: The Royal Baby (2019): I will get into my problems with the first two Christmas Prince movies later, but my main criticism is that they are kind of boring and not chaotic enough. This one decided to make up for that by incorporating a missing ancient treaty, a curse, and a ghost, as well as a subplot about Girl Power (I use this semi-ironically) and a subplot about cousin Simon potentially committing treason again. I was so excited that things were happening in this movie the first time I watched it that I may be a little biased, but oh well. Oh, I was also absolutely terrified it was going to be racist and it is...mostly not? There are a few questionable moments but like mostly it’s fine.

Christmas With the Prince (2018): I wanted to watch this because the summary on Netflix did not match the summary on Google at all, and that’s because, uh, they’re both sort of right? Ostensibly this movie is about a pediatric oncologist who comes back into contact with an old almost-flame, who just happens to be the prince of a tiny European country, because he fucked up his leg and needs somewhere private to stay. And apparently a pediatric oncology ward is the best place for that? But then after they fall in love this random Russian lady shows up and is like “that’s my fiance.” This happens maybe twenty minutes from the end. Anyway, this movie isn’t great but I liked the lead guy way more than I thought I would and it has some cute kids in it.

A New York Christmas Wedding (2020): I...am at a loss for words to describe this...motion picture. On the surface it is a cute idea: a young Black woman, Jennifer, is getting married to her boyfriend on Christmas Eve, but she’s given a chance by her guardian angel (stay with me) to go back in time and redo her life, after losing touch with her childhood best friend, Gabrielle, who she was always in love with but never confessed her feelings to. She wakes up in an alternate timeline, where she and Gabrielle have been together for years and her beloved father is still alive. Then the movie, uh...veers off into some very odd places! They go to their Catholic priest and ask him to marry them, and he is like “but the Bible” and they are like “but that’s bullshit” and he’s like “shrug” and then later during a sermon he’s like “actually that IS bullshit, everyone gay in this church come stand up here with me. We love you. Also we’re going to perform a wedding now” and then he marries Jennifer and Gabrielle. And then Jennifer’s angel shows up and is like “you have to choose between this life and your old life now” and then uh...I really hate to spoil this next thing. It is the weirdest choice I’ve ever seen a movie make and if you’re even the slightest bit interested in this movie, I think you should experience this plot point for yourself. I’m going to put the batshit spoiler in ROT13 in case you want to avoid spoiling yourself. (GJ: fhvpvqr) Wraavsre'f thneqvna natry erirnyf gung ur vf gur fba bs Tnoevryyr, jub va gur bevtvany gvzryvar tbg certanag nf n grra naq ure snzvyl frag ure gb n ahaarel. Fur zvfpneevrq naq fhofrdhragyl qvrq ol fhvpvqr. Uvf anzr vf Nmenry Tnovfba. Anyway, uh, this movie isn’t very good, unfortunately, the adult leads have no chemistry and Gabrielle’s adult self is actively unlikable (the teen versions of them are cute!), but I think it’s 1000% worth a watch for the sheer chaos of it all. I...recommend it for that, I guess? Oh, also there’s a sex scene that plays a slow sexy version of “O Christmas Tree” in the background and I felt like I was losing my mind. 

A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding (2018): As I said in my commentary on the third movie in this series, the worst sin this movie commits is being kind of boring. It also manages to make the romantic hero, Richard, even worse than in the first movie, where he was just kind of useless and petulant, because in this movie he is actively failing to do anything to revive the failing economy of his country. I have seen people complain that the prince in The Princess Switch and Cole in The Knight Before Christmas have no personalities; they are delightful compared to the wet paper bag of a man in this movie. Rose McIver is adorable and I don’t think any of this is her fault, she’s doing her best in these movies, but woof.

12 Pups of Christmas (2019): The Google summary of this movie, which we found on Hulu, is this: “Struggling to keep his dog GPS locator company afloat, Martin expects his new hire, Erin, to help him save the company and find homes for 12 puppies that were left behind after a photo shoot. As they work together, Erin and Martin begin to discover each other's positive qualities and find love just in time for the holidays.” My wife and I love dogs, so we put this on, expecting cute dogs. This movie contains approximately 80% chaos and 20% cute dogs. It opens with our heroine, a canine therapist, coming home from work to have dinner with her fiance and best friend. We find out that Erin and fiance are moving to California soon for her new job (they live in New York). Fast forward a few days to their courthouse wedding, at which point her fiance and best friend confess to having an affair, and she is dumped. Heartbroken, she moves to California alone, and ends up moving into the company-provided house. It is just a two-story house (??) that the CEO’s sister owns (???) and rents out to employees (????). Also Erin is, as the Google summary says, expected to come up with some grand idea to save the company. And there are 12 random puppies also. They are cute puppies. Oh, also Martin, the CEO of the dog collar company, hates dogs for some reason. Martin’s sister is aggressively friendly towards Erin in a way that I interpreted as sapphic. At one point, after they find a home for dog #3, Erin’s former BFF shows up on her doorstep (?????) begging to be let in. She insists that the fiance was also two-timing her, and she has proof that he had FIVE OTHER GIRLFRIENDS ALL AROUND THE COUNTRY - “that’s why he’s a traveling businessman”!!!! Erin never asks to see her proof, but I guess she believes her, because she lets her inside and then makes her take care of the remaining eight dogs out of spite. I guess they make up at some point. Anyway, somewhere in here Erin and Martin are starting to fall in love and also come up with a way to rebrand the business, so hooray for them. We also learn that the reason Martin hates dogs is that his beloved childhood dog, uh, ran away? Disappeared? Got eaten? He insists that “not knowing [what happened to him] was the worst part,” but I was out here expecting to see the child finding an actual dead dog like it’s John Wick or something so this was a little anticlimactic. They go on a business trip to New York talk with Important Japanese Investors, during which they fuck (it is? romantic? allegedly?), and then the morning of their meeting Erin’s shitty ex shows up in the hotel lobby to bother her. Martin decks him square in the face for not leaving her alone, and then someone calls the cops, because I guess this movie said ACAB, and both dudes get arrested and Erin has to do the presentation alone. And then in the last five minutes Martin gets out of jail and Erin says that she gave the presentation to the investors...in English, and their translator was twenty minutes late, and so the investors understood none of what she said. Thankfully we are spared actually seeing this “joke,” but they do play racist music over her explanation. Then Martin reconnects with his rich dad who bails out the company instead, and also he adopts the four remaining dogs. This movie was fucking bananas and very bad and I need more people to understand exactly how bad. Watch this movie.

A Nutcracker Christmas (2016): Amy Acker has two Christmas movies and this one seemed more palatable than Dear Santa, so here we are. I like to watch Amy Acker be cute and dance, and she has an adorable teenage niece in this movie that she’s helped raise. In this movie she’s a former ballet dancer whose sister (hilariously, one of the Wynonna Earp lesbians) died in a tragic car accident, and she never got to dance the part of the Sugarplum Fairy. Spoiler alert: she gets to by the end of the movie. Unfortunately the love interest is basically Satan incarnate and does not deserve her at all, so unless you like yelling at romantic leads I can’t really recommend it. 

Godmothered (2020): This movie is just, uh, Enchanted but worse, and also it should have been sapphic and it isn’t? Poor Jillian Bell is doing her best and is adorable, but it’s not enough to save this movie for me. If Disney were not cowards she would have fallen in love with single mom Isla Fisher. Oh, it also ends with the very white younger daughter doing a public cover of “Rise Up” by Andra Day that the audience joins in on, which, considering its use in the BLM movement the last couple years, felt, uh, not great to me.

A Christmas Prince (2017): It’s maybe not far to compare this to the rest of the Netflix Christmas Cinematic Universe, because it was the originator. But also, it’s pretty boring. Sorry. Simon, or Fiddles (Fake Hiddles/Tom Hiddleston) is the best character.

Married by Christmas (2016): Apparently an alternate title for this is The Engagement Clause, which is sort of funny. Anyway, this has Jes Macallan and we, being big fans of Legends of Tomorrow, lost our shit when we found this on Christmas Day and had to watch it. The plot is that Jes’ character runs the family business, but their shitty grandma died and left a clause in her will where the business goes to the husband of whichever granddaughter gets married first. You would think that Jes’ sister and her fiance would postpone their Christmas Eve wedding to give Jes time to set up some kind of platonic wedding for business purposes, since Jes’ entire life is this stupid business, but nope, they immediately turn into monsters who are determined to get their hands on the business for ???? reasons???? It’s not very good, as you can tell by how low it is on the list. Jes Macallan is not a convincing straight businesswoman. I wouldn’t even really enjoy this movie as an Avalance AU.

A Princess for Christmas (2011): Here we are, the worst one Christmas movie I watched this year. I don’t actively harbor any ill will towards Katie McGrath, although I confess to feeling a bit “her?” but it’s fine. I was hoping this movie would enlighten me to her appeal. Instead, this movie actively got on my nerves in multiple ways, including trying to pass Katie McGrath off as a normal American retail worker instead of an Irish vampire/sorceress/supervillain/fairy/whatever she is. Her accent is shockingly awful, which I’m not sure is actually her fault, is there a reason her family wasn’t just British? That wouldn’t have saved the movie but it would have made it just slightly more palatable. At every turn it makes the worst choices, including a scene where Katie’s character puts on a rap song and she and the prince dance to it in an attempt to show them “loosening up,” and then the mean grandfather comes in and demands that they “turn this ghetto music off.” YIKES. I know these movies are the whitest movies ever by design but was that racism necessary? The only Black people I actually saw in this movie were some of the servants, I think? Speaking of the servants, at the end of the movie there’s a grand ball and Katie’s dress gets fucked up, and she’s about to leave the country, and then the servants are like “don’t go! We pooled our money to buy you another nice dress!” which, also yikes! This movie has a real classism problem. It also was so boring I zoned out of it multiple times, and I have sat through Manos: The Hands of Fate and Birdemic multiple times. This movie has no chaos whatsoever and I hated all the characters. 0/10 do not recommend under any circumstances.

[antiquecompass]

Untamed Spring Fest Day 9: Shower

Jiang Cheng always knew Lan Academy fostered a healthy appetite for competition among its students, urging them to do their best in an attempt to be their best, but even he didn’t expect their take on field day to be so brutal.

Jiang Cheng thought Andover was bad but this---he’d been attending these events at Xichen’s side for over ten years now and somehow each year kept getting more and more competitive, more and more challenging. It was as if, with all the increased free time he had in his semi-retirement, Lan Qiren had become the ultimate obstacle course taskmaster.

Then again, this was nothing compared to the mud pile tug of wars and any rugby match ever at the Cloud Recesses, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

But this was madness.

And apparently Lan Academy.

It was raining in sheets, windy, sideways, turning the formerly bright and sunny obstacle course into an actual mud pit. Any sensible person would’ve called it off, but neither rain nor sleet nor snow seemed to stop the students of Lan Academy on Field Day.

Especially not when Lan Qiren had the whistle.

“It’s---this is like Hell Week. For SEALS,” Jiang Cheng said as he stared out among the gathered group of Lan Academy Seniors in their official gym clothes, all ready to go as soon as  the whistle blew.

“Isn’t it great,” Mingjue said. He had a clipboard and a stopwatch in his hand. Slap the man into a track suit and he’d look like a professional coach and was acting like one as well. “My money’s on Jingyi this year, but that Ramos kid is pretty tough, and Sizhui’s the quiet and devious type. Ava’s my dark horse--tiny, but dangerous.”

Jiang Cheng turned to his husband. “Where’s all your peace and love school community spirit now?” he asked.

The venerated Headmaster Lan shrugged from his safe place under one of the large white tents. He waved a little Lan Academy flag and gave an undignified whoop.

Field Day at Lan Academy was clearly in the Twilight Zone.

“You see this rain, yes?” Jiang Cheng asked. He’d never seen it rain like this at Lan Academy before. “Actual rain showers. Sideways rain showers.” He held up his phone. “Flash Flood Watch rain showers.  Aren't you worried about possible injuries?” Jiang Cheng said.

“Everyone’s consent form is signed and they’re always offered the chance to leave the course at any moment. There’s no shame in using good sense,” Xichen said.

“Do you hear the bullshit coming out of your mouth right now?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Xichen slapped him in the stomach. “Language, my heart. There are children about.”

“And our nephews are about to inhale at least three liters of mud,” Jiang Cheng said, pointing out to the field.

“Not if they keep their balance,” Xichen said.

“You’re enjoying this,” Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen grinned. “Just reminds me of my final field day as a student here. Had to scale Gusu Hill in rain just like this--we got up it, with teamwork.”

Jiang Cheng shook his head and cursed again. “This is just like Hell Week.”

“Not even a little bit,” Xichen said. “Except for the learning to work as a team part.”

He raised his hand and signaled the start of the race. Lan Qiren blew his whistle. And the seniors were off in a mad, mud-filled scramble.

**********

“You have a fan club.”

Jin Ling looked up from where he was preparing his bow to turn and see his parents and siblings all in the middle row of the bleachers, waving and cheering him on, big, glittery signs, and Lan Academy flags, and even his father shaking a white and blue pom-pom.

At a normal archery match they couldn’t be so enthusiastic, but here, in the old Lan Academy gym turned into an indoor range on one side of and a rock-climbing wall on the other, they were free to show their support.

Jin Chan scoffed from the other end of the range.

Jin Ling ignored his cousin. His uncles were right; Jin Chan wasn’t even worth a single breath.

Coach Wen raised his hand and the crowd silenced. Jin Ling could still hear whispers of some members of the crowd; most of the Jins, the ones who remained loyal to his grandfather; the ones who disapproved of his father staying home to raise his children and being far more involved in the business of the Jiangs and the Nies than the Jins,  were there to support Jin Chan. And Jin Chan knew it, which was why he was being extra-arrogant today.

Jin Ling couldn’t give a fuck.

He had his immediate family--the best of the Jins here. He had the Lans. He had Lan Academy. He had the Song-Xiao clan (though, to be fair, they were also here for Yating). He had Mrs. Ouyang, who had made a rare trip to visit this time, on the last of Zizhen’s Lan Academy Field Days. He had his cousins and uncles. He had the Delaneys. He had Zizhen himself.

Jin Ling remembered all of this as he prepared to take his shot. He’d done this over and over again for years, indoor and outdoor ranges, all over the world.

The signal sounded.

Arrows flew.

Jin Ling was the only to hit dead center.

They repeated it over and over again until the competition was done. Jin Ling was the only one to manage to keep a center grouping. April was a close second. Yating a close third. Jin Chan was at the very bottom of the results.

“It’s not like this is a real competition anyway,” Jin Chan sneered.

It still felt damn good to Jin Ling when that Lan Academy gold medal went around his neck.

**********

Ouyang Zizhen laughed at the two mud monsters who were once his best friends. The track events had been pushed back to the later afternoon. Luckily the rain showers had finally stopped, and while the track was still wet, it was manageable. Jingyi and Sizhui had obviously not been so lucky.

“You two tied, didn’t you?” he asked as he continued his warm-up.

“We had to sacrifice Ari,” Jingyi said. “But it was a worthy sacrifice in the end. Ava nearly got us, but she came in fifteen seconds behind us..”

“Congratulations,” Zizhen said. “But please go let one of the coaches power-wash you two. If you get mud on the track, Sophie will yell at you.”

Even under the mud, he could see Sizhui wince. Sophie McKim’s wrath was a thing to be feared. Especially on the track. Especially during the relay.

“Do your dorm team proud,” Jingyi said, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder.

Zizhen smoothly stepped back. “I’ll take that show of support and spirit. Please go de-earthify yourselves.”

“It’s not like we aren’t going to get just as dirty during the final event,” Jingyi said. “I’m pretty sure they’re adding mud to the field at this point.”

“Lans! Get your muddy asses off my track! Now!” Sophie yelled, her ponytail up high, her face screaming that a murder was about to happen.

“Shit,” Jingyi said as he scrambled away.

Zizhen laughed as Jingyi managed to clear three entire hurdles before cutting across the center to the other end of the bleachers and towards the locker room where Molly Lan stood with a hose at the ready.

“And that’s the love of your life,” Zizhen said, looking at Sizhui’s stupid grin.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Sizhui agreed. He nodded at Zizhen one last time and then followed in Jingyi’s footsteps, minus the hurdles and the enraged Sophie McKim.

Zizhen was in his final set of stretches when someone tossed a water bottle at his feet. It landed perfectly--perfect toss, perfect aim, perfect landing. He looked up and saw Jin Ling waving from the stands.

“How?” Zizhen asked.

“I’m just that good,” Jin Ling said. “Do us all proud and don’t suck at this,” he said, before going back up into the stands, sitting down next to Zizhen’s mom.

**********

After the final awards ceremony; after the final bell signalling the end of the day; after many tired students and proud parents left for family dinners out to enjoy the start of the long weekend, the true--though unofficial--final event of Lan Academy Field Day took place.

It was a tradition almost as old as the school.

A rugby match free-for-all featuring the seniors, some of the staff, and a few chosen alumni. It always ended in mud and grass stains, torn shirts, cuts and bruises. The rugby game took the teamwork required for the obstacle course and relays, the patience of the archery competition, the reflexes of the tennis and fencing matches, the cheering crowds from the soccer, dodgeball, basketball, and baseball games, the strategy of the chess matches, and combined them all together and ended in this one final match.

It was also one of the few times of year anyone saw Headmaster Lan out of his Lan traditional outfit or one of his suits. Their kind, supportive, caring headmaster looked like a giant on the rugby field, his broad shoulders on display as he leaned on his best friend, and stared out over the other players.

“I swear he never looks that intimidating at home,” Jingyi said as he lounged on the bench next to Sizhui.

“It’s because we hardly ever see his competitive side,” Sizhui said.

And Lans, for all their beliefs and teachings, abhorred losing.

“It’s probably the one time of year he can get his aggression out against the staff,” Zizhen said.

That was the one catch: the Headmaster would participate, but only on the students’ team, and only if they formerly asked him to before the match.

Not a year had passed since becoming headmaster that Lan Xichen wasn’t asked.

At the end of the bench, in between the tub of Gatorade and another of ice water, Jiang Cheng sat with his head in his hands, for once united with Meng Yao, as they both glared down their foolish husbands.

“What are you assholes trying to prove?” Jiang Cheng finally yelled.

“Cursing is forbidden at Lan Academy!” an entire chorus answered him.

[spac3bar7end3r]

Grow as We Go (Together)

Sterek / Stiles left / Derek followed later / Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings / they live together but not like roommate-they were roommate kind of story / 2396 words

prompt: “I’m with you, you know that.”

read on Ao3

Living with Derek is not how Stiles thought it would be. Well, Derek changed. Stiles also changed. That part is pretty obvious. Don’t get him wrong, change is not a bad thing and it’s been five years since they saw each other. It’d be weird if things don’t change. Plus, Derek is a good roommate. He even waters Stiles’ plants every day (and Stiles has a lot of plants).

 The thing is… the thing is, Derek seems a bit distant, and Stiles doesn’t mean physically because his apartment is narrow as hell. Their body parts always touch one way or another because of how cramped it is.  Derek often stares blankly at the television, staring distantly at the thing that’s not there. Sometimes the tv is not even turned on.

One thing that does not change is Derek’s cooking. Derek can cook. Stiles knows that since that summer break in high school that he got stuck with Derek after Scott got a girlfriend. Derek cooked for his pack and Stiles, and it was fantastic. Stiles always prepared food for his dad since young but it still could not compare to Derek’s cooking at all.

Stiles likes Derek’s cooking. He likes Derek’s grumpy face. He likes it when Derek sighed heavily as if Stiles was annoying but he still came to Stiles every time he had trouble, when he was sad or when he was lonely. Stiles misses that. Stiles misses them. He did not feel like getting mad at Derek for not appearing in front of him sooner. Stiles himself wasn’t stable enough for many years after things had gone to shit at Beacon Hills…after his dad passed, so Stiles didn’t have the heart to get mad at Derek for not strong enough to come to him on time.

 And what does ‘on time’ mean anyway?

 Stiles knew things are changing after Derek died and got back to life, but one thing that he doesn’t want it to change is Derek’s humanity. Stiles doesn’t want Derek to think that he is broken. He is not. So what if his heart is not beating anymore? Stiles’ heart can do both of their works. It beats too much and too fast for one person anyway (Don’t talk science facts with him though—it’s just meant to be rhetorical).

 So…Operation: Getting Derek’s Life Back Together So They Can Be Together.

 6 AM

Stiles wakes up at six per usual. He walks down to the living room where Derek currently is. The guy is staring blankly at the tv screen again. It is turned on this time though, blasting morning news and weather forecast. Stiles doesn’t pay attention, the person on tv all wear suits and put gel in their hair.

“They said it would be colder than usual.” Derek nods to the screen. Oh, so he was paying attention after all.

“Yeah?” Stiles flops down to the couch next to Derek. “Are you cold?” Stiles nudge Derek’s shoulder with his, it doesn’t radiating heat like it used to.

“Not really. I don’t feel anything anymore.” Derek shrugs. “Because I’m—”

“Because you’re a sourwolf, like always. What’s for breakfast today? Or is it my turn to cook?” If he was going to say he’s broken or he’s dead then Stiles is going to cut him off again like these past few days. Stiles asks and pretends to stretch himself as if he’s going to get up from the couch and cook, but actually he’s comfortable leaning on Derek and thinking maybe he should take a nap here.

“You know It’s always my turn to cook. I like to do it.”

“See? You ‘like’ to do it. You still feel something, don’t you?”

“…” Derek doesn’t say anything and Stiles thinks that he’s either contemplating if he feels something, or he’s just annoyed with Stiles (like usual—which is a good sign!).

 7 AM

           They’ve been sitting on the couch for almost an hour. Well, in Stiles’ case he’s actually spreading on the tiny couch and almost lie on Derek who is just sitting there and says nothing.

           “How do you feel about bacon pancake?”

           “Wow, Derek. What do you mean how do I feel? If you don’t know my answer then I’m gonna drool on you.” Stiles talks back while his eyes still stare at the screen. Stiles opened Netflix and chose Ghibli because he knows Derek loved Ghibli. They always watched them together when Derek couldn’t sleep alone at the loft in Beacon Hills.

           “Good.” Derek pats on Stiles' head before pushing Stiles away a little so he can get up and cook. He almost asks Derek to come back but the promise of bacon pancake stops him.

 Stiles is not sure if there was a smile on Derek’s face or it was just his wishful thinking.

 9 AM

           The breakfast was divine, obviously. Derek is awesome. Now they are watching the Ghibli film again but this time Derek sits on the floor and Stiles is lying on the couch, his hand lightly combing through Derek’s soft hair.

Derek is leaning back. He looks so comfortable that Stiles thinks he’s sleeping so he stops but then Derek opens his eyes and nudges Stiles’ hand with his head, so Stiles continues.

 Both of them fall asleep.

 12 PM

           Derek got up to cook. Stiles gets up to find his phone and texts some funny meme to his friends then comes back to the couch in the living room. He’s browsing something on Netflix again and settle on a popular sitcom. Since it’s a weekend he doesn’t plan to do anything at all and allows himself to be lazy.

           Derek comes back with two burgers. Stiles doesn’t even know how he did it. He made it from scratch! Derek could be a food blogger or something. Stiles decides to keep the suggestion in his mind to see if Derek will be interested in doing it in the future.

           “Not to be dramatic, but I almost cry.”

Derek smirks. It was not the same smirk Stiles always saw but it’s there.

 3 PM

           “I used to come here with Laura,” Derek speaks up when they’re walking in Central Park. Stiles decided to ask Derek if he wanted Derek to take a walk and he said yes, so they came out. Derek also made hot cocoa in a thermos tumbler. He’s the best.

They walk around talking about nothing, and Stiles swears he can almost see Derek cracking a smile during the walk.

 6 PM

           Stiles brings Derek to the bookstore and they start to talk about books. Stiles pulls one book from the shelf, turning to Derek, “This book is the first book my dad bought me because he wanted me to stop running around too much and I’ve been obsessed with books ever since.”

           “This book is Laura’s favorite because it’s so corny that she laughs every time she read it. She said she hated it, but I know the truth.” Derek offers one of his past as well.

           “She and I would be good friends then,” Stiles says.

           “Yeah, you guys definitely will.” Derek looks down at his shoes before walking to the other shelf.

 7 PM

           Things change abruptly when Stiles bumps into someone after they went outside from the bookstore and walked around the block and that person is a freaking werewolf. Aaand Of course, Stiles’ luck is never great because said werewolf is so offended by Stiles knocking him or maybe because he can feel Derek’s wolf’s intimidating presence.

           “Go away.” Derek whispers.

           “Like hell I would, you omega.” The other werewolf spits at Derek. Stiles is pretty sure if Derek was his own self, he would probably beat up the guy now.

           “I’m not an omega.”

           “So you’re what? I didn’t smell pack on you, and this weak human is obviously not pack.”

           “I am.” Stiles walks up. He doesn’t think throwing a fight in the middle of a street would be a good idea.

           “I am his pack. Go away.” Stiles waves his hand and before he knows it, the werewolf pulls his wrist violently. Stiles’ body is pulled toward the guy and Stiles can hear Derek’s growl.

           “Go. Away.” Derek repeats what Stiles said but his mouth is full of fangs, eyes glowing blue.

           “Wow, dude. You’re also a killer. You can’t even keep your cool going mad like this. Are you sure you have a pack? This human is—”

Derek is already pouncing on him before the guy can say anything.

           “Der, stop. This guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Don’t get mad at—Wait, what?”

Derek gets mad.

Derek is getting mad.

Derek can definitely feel something.

           “Derek, are you…angry?”

           Derek stops. He throws the other werewolf on the ground and walks away from Stiles.

           Stiles looks through his bag before he grabs the tiny jar hidden in a small pocket inside. He opens the cork lid with his mouth then throws the magic powder, that he made a while back as a protection against dangerous supernatural creatures he occasionally bumps into, to the werewolf.

He bares his human teeth, saying “Don’t come to me or my pack again.”

           The werewolf cries because the powder burns his skin, and Stiles just walks away.

 It’s good that New Yorkers are so used to weird shits happening that they just walk past them.

  9 PM

Thank god (or whoever up there) that he went straight home.

Derek walked away from Stiles, but at least he came back home.

 He’s hiding though.

 Derek is hiding in the closet, and Stiles has to respect him for it a little bit because that closet is cramped as fuck. It was already here when Stiles moved in and he doesn’t want to know how smelly it is for a werewolf.

           “Come on, Sourwolf. I know it must smell bad in there. Sometimes I even throw my unwashed hoodie in there.” Stiles widens the door and looks at Derek who tries really hard to make himself look small on the ground.

“I like it here. It smells like you.”

           “Like sweat and anxiety?”

           “Like home.”

Stiles scratches his head. He sits down on the floor, looking in the hazel eyes. “That’s sweet, but dude, we need to talk.”

Derek looks like a dear in a headlight. “No.”

           “Der.”

           “No.”

           “You’re not as lifeless as you pretend to be, aren’t you?”

           “No!”

           “You know I’m not gonna hate you if you say yes to anything I ask, right? And why would you even think that anyway?”

           Derek looks up. His face shows hopefulness (a liiittle bit, but Stiles counts that as a win).

           “What if I’m starting to feel something again and you kick me out?”

           “Are you kidding? I would be so so happy if you feel something again. We could be happy together! I can make you laugh and you can get so annoyed with me again!”

Derek sits straighter.

“C’mon, Wolfman, tell me what’s happening. I’m with you.”

Derek perks up at the last sentence. He slowly looks Stiles in the eyes.

“…Last week when you made a joke about ducks when we went to that Chinese restaurant at the corner, I started to feel something. My heart still doesn’t beat, but I feel like smiling when you smile or laughing when you tell your stupid jokes.”

Stiles raises both of his eyebrows, head tilting.

“Dude, that’s not fair! You mean you find my jokes hilarious and you pretended that it didn’t make you laugh. For days.”

“Well, I—"

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you like me like this because I wasn’t as grumpy or as angry as before. I’m more…manageable?”

“You what? Like hell I like you like this, Derek. I don’t want to manage you. You are not a plant or a..what, flipping Neopets or something.”

“I think I—"

“Dude, let me tell you, I like you being grumpy, I like you being an—wait let me tone it down, I like you being confident with yourself and not afraid to show it. What I don’t like is you thinking that you’re broken or you are something less just because you what, have no heartbeats? I like everything that makes you you. I always like you, no matter what or where or when. Like, I like you when you have blue eyes, red eyes or hazel eyes. Are these hazel eyes? They said your eyes were green in your license.” Stiles thinks he knows what he’s talking about but then he’s starting to ramble and he can’t stop.

Derek laughs and it was a fucking good sound. It is the best sound Stiles ever heard Derek made in weeks. Stiles almost cries (or maybe he’s pretty sensitive right now because of his pretty long-ass heartfelt speech earlier. He’s pretty sure that counts as a love confession).

Derek finally stands up, and he has to lower his head down because he’s in a small closet. Stiles holds Derek’s wrist and leads him to the center of the room.

 “I’m with you, you know that.”

           “No, I didn’t before.” Derek shakes his head, smiling bitterly to the ground. Stiles walks closer to Derek. At first it was just his right hand, slowly touching Derek’s chest. This is where it’s supposed to move, to beat, to show a sign that the organ beneath the skin is doing something, but Derek’s heart is not beating anymore. Stiles retracts his hand then he moves his face close to Derek’s chest. His lips lightly touch the skin where his hand was earlier.

           “I always thought you were on Scott’s or someone else’s side. I’m scared that you won’t want anything to do with me.” Derek murmurs. He leans on Stiles’ head and sighs.

           “Dude, I so want it. And well, I mean, I like Scott and all but we’ve gone our separate ways now. Plus, I’m pretty sure we’ve got our own side.”

           “Have we?” Derek asked

           “Yes, you, me, and my plants.”

           “We include the plants too?”

           “Why not? They are my babies.” Stiles challenges Derek. Derek smiles and just says, “Alright.” And Stiles just grins stupidly back at him. They’ve got this.

 “So can I kiss you now?”

“I don’t know. Can you?” Derek raised his eyebrows.

And yes, Stiles totally can. 

[venus-viz]

Helpless

Sirius x Reader

Overview: FluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluff Sirius decides he wants to send you love letters while you guys are attending Hogwarts.

Word Count: 2,448

Warning(s): One curse word, that’s it. You’re safe here.

Note: The first two settings of this one shot take place during 5th year. You’ll know the setting of the third when you get there. Hope you enjoy reading. <3

Key:

(O/N) = Owl Name

Gif not mine

(No reposting, please!)

     The hundreds of fluttering wings entering the Great Hall cut off everyone’s conversations as they excitedly waited for whatever mail they might be expecting.  

    (Y/N)’s parents were busy on business trips as they had described in their previous letter, so she stayed focused on the delicious pancakes in front of her. Sweet, fluffy pancakes-her mind seemed to have gone numb because Lily was practically shoving her to the point where she could fall off of her seat. “Oi, Earth to (Y/N)!”  

    Finally snapping out of her daydreaming state, she turned to the redhead that glared fondly in her direction. “Something’s arrived for you, you were too braindead to notice.” (Y/N) pouted in response but took the piece of parchment from Lily’s outstretched hand.  Marlene attempted at peeking over her friend’s shoulder, trying to see the contents of the letter. Her actions didn’t go without (Y/N)’s notice, who blocked Mar’s view. A familiar fancy yet rushed handwriting filled the paper.

“Dear my darling dove,

I stole some parchment from Moony, I’ll have to be quick about this so I can send it before he murders me. I heard you talking to Evans about how you think getting sent love notes and letters is romantic, so I thought I’d start surprising you with some. I’m going to guess you smiled at that comment. Merlin, imagining it is making me want to see you already. Your smile is the only thing I continue living for, really. I got a little cheesy there, didn’t I? I’m not the best at writing but I want to make you feel like you’re loved, like you’re special. Being with you is one of the most wonderful things that’s happened to me, you’re truly the light of my life. Shit, I think I hear Moony. Going to have to cut this letter short, love. I promise the next ones will be worthy for a goddess like you.

Sincerely,

Your favorite Gryffindor”  

    There was a smile spread on (Y/N)’s face as she finished reading and looked over to a beautiful pair of grey eyes, the usual smirk on her boyfriend’s face. Sirius seemed to be satisfied with himself, winking over at her. Such a simple action but it sent butterflies coursing through her. The things that boy did to her. It will be one hell of a ride if he planned on sending more of those.      

     She then became suddenly aware of the giggle fits next to her as well as how dumb her loving expression must’ve looked to those around her. Marlene snickered. “I don’t think you need to tell us who it’s from anymore.” 

                                                          - - -

    Sirius had certainly lived up to the idea of sending love letters. He hadn’t missed a day so far. He’d sometimes even send more than one. However cheesy or cliché they were, she loved receiving them, nonetheless. She started to laugh softly to herself, remembering the rant he had went on during one of the letters about how he was certain Prongs secretly wanted him and not Lily.

    The weather outside was perfect. The warm sun wasn’t too intense, and a gentle breeze made the grass fly in the wind. A great day to work on Potions homework.

    (Y/N) sat herself under a tree that provided her with shade, the same tree she and Sirius would usually cuddle under until getting scolded for being out after curfew. Grinning at the thought, she opened up her Potions book, dipped her quill in some ink and got to work.

    Meanwhile, Sirius looked down upon her from the Owlery, admiring who he perceived as the most beautiful girl to ever exist. Letting out a love-sickened sigh, he leaned his head on the palm of his hand. He had started to forget the purpose of his trip when (Y/N)’s owl began pecking him lightly, an annoyed expression on their face. “Gah, okay, okay, you can stop now! Mangy bird.” He grumbled, scribbling words onto the parchment he had brought with him. (O/N) looked none too happy at his words, making their point clear as they poked him slightly hard on the head. Sirius scowled playfully in return. “I hear you, just let this dry for a moment.” During his waiting time, he decided to look out at where his girlfriend was again.  

    Some time passed by and stretching her arms up, (Y/N) realized that the sun had begun to set and that she’d been sitting out there for quite a while now. She took a moment to take in the scenery around her before packing up her things. The way the water out on the Black Lake glistened under the descending light especially caught her attention. She stared at her gorgeous surroundings until her eyelids began to droop.

    Startled awake, she realized her owl was nuzzling her arm affectionately in hopes of her noticing them. She smiled, petting them gently and then taking the parchment they were holding out to her. “Another letter from Sirius, no doubt.” She thought aloud. Unrolling the paper, she began reading.  

“Good evening, angel,

I can see you from the Owlery. That makes me sound like a creep, but I can’t erase it. You look so pretty today. Well, you’re gorgeous every day. Breathtaking, honestly. You’ll probably have such a cute blush while reading this. Maybe I should make it a goal of mine to get you bright, Gryffindor red. You look so concentrated on that Potions essay that I forgot about, which you’ll scold me for later. I love you so much. You’re so dedicated and passionate in everything you do. You’re so diligent and curious to learn more. Godric, the things you do to me. Remus poked fun at me for becoming soft, he even asked how I was able to see with all the hearts in my eyes. But how can I not be this in love when I have you? The most wonderful, intelligent woman in all of Hogwarts and you’re somehow mine. I just want to sing my love out to the whole WORLD. I can already hear you calling me dramatic, but that’s my middle name, doll. No, it is not Orion. Or Onion as Evans misread it. Anyway, you’ll be heading to bed by the time you read this, so I won’t make this too long.  

Take care,

Your lovestruck boyfriend”  

    Chuckling to herself, (Y/N) bit her bottom lip to try and stop her smile from going across her whole face. (O/N) nudged her teasingly, to which she rolled her eyes. “You have no right to comment, I saw you eyeing an owl last week when I went to visit you.” (O/N) turned suddenly shy and tried to hide their face while their owner started cracking up.

                                                         - - -

    Sirius nervously adjusted his black tie as he waited at the bottom of the stairway for (Y/N), thinking back on the past years they’ve experienced at Hogwarts. 7th year had finally come, and they’d all be graduating in a few days. They’d have to determine their future, but for now, they’d have a joyous time at their final school dance.

    Speaking of, Lily and Marlene just walked down, which snapped Sirius out of his train of thought. Mar’ started making a trumpet impression before she began to speak. “Make way for our glorious and precious princess that I’ll continue to protect after school is over, (Y/N) (L/N)!” Lily covered her mouth to muffle her laughter as her dramatic friend did jazz hands.

    Bashfully, (Y/N) stepped out from behind the wall she was using to not be seen and made eye contact with Sirius. His loving gaze admired her, and she couldn’t decide whether she felt more comfortable due to his presence or if she wanted to cover her face in fear that everyone would see her crimson cheeks. He then made it even harder to choose when he pulled out that charming smile on her, the one that just made her heart leap out of her chest.  

    “You look stunning, love.” He mused as she carefully walked down and over to him. The blush on her face intensified. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Sirius.”  

    Letting out a low chuckle that sent shivers down her spine, he held out an arm to her. “May I escort the beautiful princess to her ball?” (Y/N) accidentally let out a giggle at his extravagant act, mentally scolding herself for becoming a young teen for a moment. “Of course.” She responded as she wrapped her own arm under and around his. They stepped into the giant room that had been prepared for the students’ final, special night.

    Everyone involved in the decoration certainly went all-out. A beautiful yet blinding chandelier hung from the ceiling, highlighting the dance floor. There were rows of tables with white cloth covering them stood off to the side. They had been filled with over a dozen entrée options to suit everyone’s tastes. The ribbons and balloons were gorgeous shades of blue and white. James had suspected they might’ve used the same decorations from the winter festivities, but everyone paid him no mind.  

    However, despite the effort that had been put in towards the way this ball looked, Sirius couldn’t help but stare at (Y/N) the whole time. The way her outfit of choice fit her just right and how the moonlight along with the chandelier brought out her eyes. She was like a magnet, pulling Sirius ever closer to the brink of madness. He often jokingly wondered whether she was part Veela in disguise.

    “You going to stare holes through me all night or are you going to ask me to dance?” (Y/N) grinned at him.

    Laughing softly, he took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss upon it. “Right, how rude of me. Would you care for a dance, my love?” Giddily, she nodded.  

    Truth be told, Sirius had been forced by his mother to learn how to waltz, even if he didn’t have an interest in finding out how to do it. When he and (Y/N) got closer, she had made the off-hand comment that she didn’t know how to do the elegant dance, so he then became her tutor. He couldn’t help but thank the stars for having given him such a great opportunity to use the otherwise unneeded skill.

    Now, here they were, gliding across the practically glittering floor. Some people watched in awe, but to them, they were the only two people that existed in this moment. The only people to have ever lived. The only people that mattered.

    As they looked into each other’s eyes, they shared a mutual thought: they would never leave the other’s side.

    After a while of quiet dancing, (Y/N) decided to speak up and break the silence. “It’s so weird to believe that…we’re going to be leaving this place, you know? Hogwarts has just always been a second home to me - to all of us.” Sirius nodded in agreement and hummed to himself before responding, “It’s really a strange concept, isn’t it?” He twirled her in between thoughts. “I mean, we came here when we were eleven. Merlin, my hair was so bad-”

    Laughing, (Y/N) subconsciously twirled a piece of his hair between her fingers. “I don’t know, I think you looked quite cute.” Her laughter only continued when Sirius reacted with a disgusted look. “I’m sure my younger self appreciates the compliment but please don’t sneak into my bedroom at night and give me a haircut.” This only caused them to share a laugh together.  

    Smiling, (Y/N) decided to ask him something, “Hey, since our school lives are over, does this mean it’s the end of your endless letters?”

    At this, Sirius suddenly looked a little nervous, which was rare. She tilted her head curiously at his behavior. “Sirius? Is something wrong?”

    “No, no, nothing is wrong. I’m just…thinking of the right words to say, I guess.” He chuckled to himself, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “About those…I actually have one last letter I’d like you to read.” He started to reach for something in the pocket of his blazer and took up a folded sheet of parchment. (Y/N) made a motion to take it but he held it up too high for her to take. “Ah, ah, ah. I want you to read it in a more secluded area. You know, where people aren’t constantly twirling around us.” She laughed softly and they walked nearer to a window away from the dancing.  

    Sirius now handed over the paper, letting her gently unfold it. While her eyes went over all the words, he started fumbling with something else that was in his pocket.

“My love,

I write this to you in hopes that you’ll see how much I simply adore you. It’s the end of our last year here. There are so many fond memories tied to this place, many of which involve you. I could never imagine a life where I didn’t meet you. You’re so perfect and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I have flaws and I definitely don’t deserve you, but if you’ll have me, I want to be with you forever. I want to hold you close every moment I can and feel your soft hair in my hands. I want to protect you with my whole being and know you’re safe by my side. You’re my everything, (Y/N).

Will you marry me?”

    Her eyes went wide as she reread that last line in her head. She turned to see Sirius but found she had to look down. He had gotten down on one knee, holding the box open, his eyes full of love for the woman in front of him but also tinted with a bit of worry. The biggest grin filled (Y/N)’s face as she nodded vigorously and lowered herself to the floor to hug him. “Yes, yes, of course I will you big dufus!” Sirius looked taken aback by the sudden gesture, almost falling back, but he smiled softly and hugged her back.  

    After holding each other for almost a minute, they stood up and Sirius slid the ring onto her finger. Making sure it was on perfectly, he moved her hand close and kissed it. (Y/N) admired the symbol of her new life. Not because of its beauty, although Sirius did make sure to pick out the best he could find, but because of what it meant for their future. Their future that they’d live out together.

    “…so, I hope you’re ready for a new stream of letters dedicated to my lovely wife-”

    “Oh Merlin, Sirius!-”