#but yeah that catherine was the older of the pair does not matter at all; i guess it's more the idea of her being first?

[fideidefenswhore]

🔥 whatever you like

Thanks!

So, there's been a few articles in the past decade or so that express distaste at the comparison of Princess Diana & AB (and a fair amount of umbrage in misc comments on social media at any parallels being drawn whatsoever, generally, I'm not gonna lie, from C/oA stans...Catherine was the Princess of Wales, Catherine was the one that was popular and beloved by the people, I think these are the broader strokes they believe should be associated with her more...that Catherine was the older of the pair does not seem to matter, that Catherine was, like Camilla, the one that knew 'the prince' the longest doesn't matter, because Camilla was Other Woman and AB was Other Woman, and as such they were both hated by the public, they will never see past any other elements of the story/stereotypes than those, esp. because ultimately they believe all the animus directed at both of those women was/is entirely deserved and justified);

But what's interesting is it's not even so much on the grounds that there are always pitfalls in sanctifying people in general, it's generally pearl-clutching about how Diana deserves sanctification, deserves every possible iteration to be made of her life, and AB does not...the answer to the 'moral quandary' presented in the The Times' BSR review, "Anne Boleyn is being rebooted — but was the tragic Tudor queen a whore and a witch or the Princess Diana of the Tudor age?" by Alison W/eir was basically that she wasn't a whore or a witch, but again, her oh-the-humanity answer of "she wasn't a very nice person" and deserved her "unpopularity in her own time", and was so far from Princess Di, woe to those that popularize AB, somehow she omits herself from that list, how stupid they are to ever believe otherwise, etc

The implication of the above is more what's funny to me... she shouldn't be treated as Princess Diana, because Anne 'had a mean streak' (using "words as one would not address to a dog", from a source no less than above reproach than that of an ex-flame)... but, Diana didn't? The woman who pushed her stepmother down a flight of stairs? The woman who confronted her children's nanny with an entirely personal, private (and leaked, to her belief, although it was later revealed it was another doctoring by Bashir) medical document? Diana was sanctified because she died tragically; if she were still alive today, she would almost certainly be "cancelled"; famous (women, particularly...they are generally judged more harshly) people have been cancelled for much less.

And then we have author Vanora Bennett, who did compare them, but not favorably, and rather misogynistically (to other women, as well):

[Anne] didn’t have the knack for self-reinvention that has brought modern celebrities such as Victoria Beckham long-term success, or the tight-lipped compliance that saw Kate Middleton claim her prize after eight years of waiting for Prince William to propose.

If anything, Anne reminds me more of Princess Diana – both of them charming and glamorous, yet unable to maintain smooth relations with the royals around them; manipulative and sometimes vindictive, yet posthumously elevated to icons of victimhood; dying too soon and leaving young children to cope with their tragic legacy.

Unfortunately this assessment has also been given academic gloss, but luckily this has mainly been limited to GW Bernard's asinine, quasi-profound remark that since Diana had sex outside of her marriage, AB probably did, too.

Idk, I've honestly just been thinking about this because I've been thinking about fan reactions as I watch The Crown, puzzled by how Peter Morgan is so good at writing those royals, but so bad at writing these royals...

Because, really, I think there are elements of both Camilla and Diana's stories in AB's? On the surface level, you have ebullient, charismatic, cheated on by her husband, husband dated her sister 1st, (honestly, never not going to be a weird thing, it must have been borne out of...I suppose, both the utterly limited society of 'acceptable' people to interact with for those of extreme wealth and the entitlement and belief you're above such provincial concerns as ‘That's Weird’), which is probably what led to that being motif in the Kristen Stewart as Diana movie.

And then, Anne was unpopular, but it was said basically, that...those who knew her, loved her, and those that didn't were, at the least, captivated by her despite themselves.

How much of her contemporary slander was from people that had only ever glimpsed her? I think we forget that when we forget how late the sixth-finger and other misc. deformities were alleged. 'Goggle-eyed whore' is the mark of someone who saw her from enough of an distance that the only feature of note was those infamous, large eyes.

Often people confuse charisma with popularity, very often they go together but they are not interchangeable, not synonymous. Charisma can only take effect within intimate contexts. As such, it's true that Anne had one but not so much the other.

Who knows how she might have fared, popularity-wise, if she'd had the powers of radio, TV, etc at her disposal...they're creative reimaginings out of her control/remit, but she has those now and seems to have done better on that front in immortality than she did in mortality/life.

What we have basically is two elements -- "royal mistress" and "threatening the image of the monarchy", and maybe even a little “marrying for love [when royal]”. These are all broad narrative stripes that are seen as “scandalous”, all seen as disruptive, against status quo, so they are always going to inspire creators. At the end of the day, the hand-wringing over that inspiration rings ... insipid? Naiive? Take your pick. 

[edie-k]

Here‘s my drabble for the HPRomione Discord fanfic tag. Thanks to @zurisenchantedquill for tagging me. My prompt was fireworks - literal and figurative.

My head - let’s write spicy figurative fireworks! You’ve wanted to stretch those muscles!

My heart - uh…. we’re going to write a fight.

I am tagging @bluegreenandpurple next. Your prompt is revenge

Title: Tense

Rating: PG-13 (Ron and I can’t go too long without using the f word)

Pairing: Romione

Disclaimer: Not my characters

Quick head canon note: I believe that Ron isn’t completely aware of his actions when under veela influence.

Takes place the summer before HBP.

Ron stepped out of the house and rubbed his face wearily.

Everything was so fucking tense right now.

He had certainly gotten used to a high level of tension in the year since Voldemort had returned and it was obviously warranted. But today, there was a completely new kind of tension and it made no sense.

The week had started off well. Hermione had arrived four days ago. Ginny, of course, had to insert herself in their business constantly but the first night, Hermione had suggested the two of them take a walk around the edge of the property after dinner and they’d repeated it every night. With the shop opening, Fred and George had been scarcely around to subject him to their normal torment. And Bill had written to say that he’d be arriving today to stay for the summer and it was always great to have his older brother around.

But that was where the trouble started.

Bill hadn’t arrived alone. He hadn’t mentioned that his girlfriend, Fleur Delacour, would be in tow. Ron had no issue with Fleur except it was considered polite to give a fucking warning when you bring a veela around so a bloke can have a chance to try to not make a fool of himself.

And then, with Fleur standing next to him with a beatific smile on her face, Bill announced she wasn’t his girlfriend - she was his fiancée.

Ron had always assumed his mum would go mad with excitement at the first of her children to marry and the fact that it was her golden boy should have made it even more unbearable. Instead Bill’s announcement was met with confusion by he and the twins (while he caught all the grief from his sister, Fred and George certainly weren’t immune to veela charms), a nervous smile from his dad, and stony silence from his mum and Ginny.

Fleur’s smile dropped and Bill frowned.

“Well,” said Dad, standing up and breaking the silence. “Certainly something to celebrate!” He pulled his eldest son into a hug before repeating the action with Fleur.

Ron felt his mind clear a bit and shook his head. “Uh, yeah. Congratulations,” he said, stepping forward to pat his brother on the back and grin. The twins seemed to come back to themselves as well and enthusiastically shook Bill’s hand.

“And, uh,” Ron turned to Fleur. “Welcome to the family.” He tried to make his voice warm and mature but he was sure he sounded like a total git. To make matters worse, he awkwardly raised his arms but didn’t actually move to touch her. Ron was sure he looked like an idiot.

Fleur, however, seemed to appreciate his gesture. She gave him a small smile and quietly said “Thank you.” She then pushed herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

His brain was starting to feel a touch fuzzy until he suddenly heard a tongue cluck behind him. He whirled around - Mum and Ginny were now both glaring at Dad for some reason. Hermione however, was looking at Fleur with absolute disdain. He shot a quizzical look at her but she pointedly ignored him.

Dad was staring back at Mum and Ginny. “This is something to celebrate,” he repeated in an unusually stern tone.

“Of course,” replied Mum tersely. Ron watched his mum inhale sharply and force a smile onto her face. “Oh, my boy is getting married!” She pushed Fred aside to embrace Bill and her words almost sounded genuine.

At his father’s insistence, they had a full feast for dinner. Dad had even popped out and returned with three bottles of champagne. He had poured Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each a generous glass as Mum looked on disapprovingly. But despite Dad’s best efforts, the meal had been uncomfortable. Delicious but uncomfortable. And Hermione had skipped pudding and excused herself from the table, breaking what he already considered their after dinner tradition. Ron hadn’t seen her since. He’d gone to the sitting room to play a couple of games of chess with Bill but as darkness was setting, he felt the need to escape the uneasiness that existed in the room and a pull to see Hermione.

As he glanced around the garden, he spotted her on the far end, sitting on the bench with a book.

“Hey,” he greeted, approaching her slowly.

Hermione glanced up from the tome and grunted in acknowledgement. Ron bristled at her reaction.

“You stood me up,” he said, struggling to keep his tone light. He was still unsure as to what had brought on this mood.

“You seemed busy,” she responded curtly.

He shrugged. “I wanted cake. And Bill was asking about the Quidditch Cup match.”

Hermione snorted and closed her book before setting it next to her. “Oh, it was Bill you were sharing your heroics with.”

“Yes,” he said, confused. “They weren’t exactly heroics either.”

“Right. And Bill is the one you found so interesting. Not his fiancée, whose lap you practically crawled into.”

Ron ignored that comment. He thought he was doing quite an admirable job of treating Fleur normally. “Do you have a problem with Fleur?” he asked.

“Do I have a problem with Fleur,” she repeated, a bit shrilly.

“Er, yeah? It just seems like you do.”

“She’s being awful! Snide comments about absolutely everything.”

“She’s to be my sister in law! And Mum and Ginny are being awful to her! I just think we all should make an effort.”

“Yes, that’s you. The welcoming committee,” she rolled her eyes.

“Again, she’s going to be part of the family,” he insisted.

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s happening so quickly? You’re always so suspicious of new people. They just met.”

“It’s been a year. And I reckon I trust Bill,” he said, shrugging.

“I know he’s your brother and you think a lot of him but he’s just a person like the rest of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The whole lot of you. Falling all over yourselves because a beautiful woman enters the room or looks at you or kisses your cheek,” Hermione sneered.

“Hang on,” Ron stopped, his blood suddenly running cold. “Are you jealous of Fleur?”

“What?” Hermione squeaked, looking a bit panicked.

“Are you - do you have a thing for my brother?”

“What?!” Hermione shrieked.

“Well, you seem to have a thing for people that are way too old for you. Lockhart, Krum, and now…”

“Are you being serious?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. You must be jealous of Fleur over Bill.”

Hermione let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not jealous of Fleur because of Bill.”

Ron froze. He replayed her answer in his mind. He wasn’t at his sharpest due to the after effects of veela powers and champagne but he was sure that she hadn’t denied that she was jealous; it just didn’t have to do with Bill. Did that mean… what did that mean?

“What does that mean?” he asked her. Their eyes locked and Hermione bit her lip nervously.

Wheeeeee - BANG!

Ron turned sharply and looked up to the sky to see three pink rockets bursting overhead.

“There’s your proper celebration, Dad!” shouted Fred gleefully. George whooped and pumped a fist in the air.

While Ron and Hermione had argued, Fred and George apparently tapped into their firework stock, which was bringing the rest of the family outside.

“Boys! Be careful! Ginny!” Mum yelled, as his sister squeezed by and ran toward the twins. She tutted and followed Ginny, his dad close behind. An orange Catherine wheel appeared above their moving forms.

Bill and Fleur, holding hands paused at the door and looked up.

“They are lovely although the display in Marseille for Bastille Day simply cannot be outdone,” Fleur declared. “The city is not without its problems but -” Bill laughed and pulled her along, trailing after his parents.

Ron glanced back at Hermione, who was scowling. “Is that true?”

“Is what true?”

“You’ve been to Marseille with your parents, right? Cause your mum’s a fan of that one poet from there. Are the fireworks there better?”

She looked at him and for a moment, she seemed speechless, which made no sense. It wasn’t a particularly challenging question. “Uh, yes, I have been there but not for Bastille Day. I wouldn’t have seen any wizarding fireworks anyway of course but I have a hard time believing that anyone can outdo your brothers.”

BOOM! Sparks in the form of a large green fire breathing dragon lit up the sky.

“Fred and George are quite unbeatable when it comes to explosions,” Ron agreed.

Hermione smiled at him and moved her book back onto her lap, gesturing for him to sit. Ron didn’t quite understand what he did to change her attitude but he thought it best not to push. He plopped down next to her and his bare calf brushed up against hers, sending a shiver up his spine. She didn’t move her leg away.

They sat side by side, Hermione watching the fireworks, Ron watching Hermione.

[futurewriter2000]

Farewell Revenge - Epilogue

A/N: There could be so much more that I could write in here but I kinda feel it’s not necessary. It’s currently one am in the morning and I am determined to finish this. Love you all. Thank you for sticking 15 parts and an epilogue. <3

XX

Years later...

Sirius stared at Dumbledore and all the rest stared at Sirius. 

He laughed. “You must be joking!” he scoffed, digging his hands into his thick hair and continuing to laugh. “(y/n)(y/l/n)!?” he placed his hands on the edge of the chair and leaned his whole body weight on it. “Merlin, I haven’t heard that name in how long? Sixteen? Seventeen years?” he looked back at Dumbledore. “That girl ruined my life and you expect me to go and fetch her?” 

Dumbledore stood silently, not a single emotion was present in his light eyes. “You know her best.”

“No, no, no.” Sirius continued to laugh franatically, pointing his finger at Dumbledore. “I never knew her, that was the whole problem.”

“Who’s (y/n)(y/l/n)?” asked Harry, exchanging his glances bewteen Sirius and Dumbledore. 

Sirius took a deep, frustrated breath in, looking at Harry before letting it out slowly. “Even if I would want to find her, where would I start, huh? She and my brother blankly disappeared. She could be anywhere.” 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Harry interwined, getting a bit angrier from being ignored. 

“Miss (y/l/n) was a great student back when young Black was a student as well. Her and Regulus Black were in the same year. They were extremely close friends.” Dumbledore started. “With your father and Sirius as well.” his eyes curved to Sirius, narrowing a bit before hearing Remus snort.

All heads turned to him, including Sirius that was an impecable mirror to resentment. 

“Close doesn’t even begin to describe.” he continued to chuckle, making Sirius grit his teeth and look away.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry innocently, completely confused by the conversation he couldn’t follow.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry.” Sirius came close to his Godson, ruffling his hair and smiling at him. “I’ll tell you some day. Today just isn’t that day. Maybe when you get back.” he continued to smile reassuringly before looking back at Dumbledore and nodding. “I’ll do it.” 

---

It surely wasn’t easy to find you but when he did, you were definetly not what he thought you would be. 

He imagined you’d be broken down, dressed in black gowns and with a snake tattoo on your forearm as he Regulus did. He thought your hair would be a mess, just as the others Death Eaters did. He thought... he thought you’d be living in an old, hidden house with no windows being locked up and never looking back.

Yet... you were just there, hanging the laundry and laughing at two little boys that ran all around the green field. You laughed as one smashed right into you, letting the white sheet fall and wrap itself around him. 

You hugged the little boy with the sheet, feeling him trying to get out of the situation he got in. “I won’t ever let you go. Muahaha.” you laughed, kissing his head as he continued to throw hands inside the sheets, giggling as well. 

The second boy came running to the two of you, quite younger than the first, perhaps five or six years old. “Mommie!” and he threw himself in your arms, giggling as well. 

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at you and the boys. One had your hair, the other was completely opposite of you yet they both resembeled each other perfectly.

The older finally managed to get out of the sheet, wrapping it around his body and laughing at you. “We ran all the way to the top of the hill without stopping!” 

“Without stopping?” you exclaimed, looking at him in shock. “Not even for a second?”

“No!” the younger in your arms shook his head. “Not even for Cathy.” 

“You let your sister behind?” your face got a bit more serious. 

“I didn’t want to.” the younger looked away a bit more guilty than the first that kept a devilish grin on his face.

That one was definetly your child. - Sirius thought. 

“Mommie! Mommie!” a little girl cried, her tiny feet carrying her little body to her mother. 

You let down the younger boy and brought yourself down to the other girl that was a complete reflection of you. Same eyes, same hair. She hugged you around the neck just for a moment before furrowing her eyes into a glare and then turning to her brothers. “You two left me behind!” she exploded, tackling the first one and punching him hard.

“Definetly her temper.” Sirius heard himself mumble. 

“Catherine! Catherine Temperance-”

“ARRGH!” the second boy jumped on the other two children, making you sigh and Sirius laugh on the spot. 

“Whoever wins the fight, I’ll buy them an ice cream!” a man’s voice cheered from the house, a tall figure running out and taking one of the children off, rolling himself on the ground with him. 

“DADDY!” all of them screamed, each throwing themselves on him and making you roll your eyes. 

For a second, Sirius felt his heart stop. He was sure that this man was his brother. He could be his brother. His hair were dark and slicked back and he didn’t wear any tight clothes, only a pair of light brown overral pants and a plain white shirt that hung loosely around his body. He lifted one child after another, smiling so brightly and laughing so loudly.

For a second. For a second he thought that could be Regulus but it wasn’t. It wasn’t him because Regulus was pale and this man had more darker skin. Regulus laugh was a bit more gentler, lighter on the sound and his eyes...his eyes definetly weren’t as dark as this man’s. 

This man was not Regulus and that squeezed Sirius’ throat as if somebody was holding him by the throat.

For a moment, he saw a happy family of five and with a blink of his eyes, somebody really was holding him by the throat.

“Who are you and what are you doing watching my family?!” you growled with your wand pressed below his chin. 

“Some things never change, (y/n).” he smiled and just with that movement, that sound, you recognised it immediatelly. 

“Sirius?” you put your hand away, your wand still pointing at him.

“Hola, mi Amor.” he started to joke, making you role your eyes.

He was different than you last remember him. He was skinny but cleaned up nicely. He kept his leather jacket from his 7th year, his silver ring and- well the necklace James bought him for his birthday. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked immediately.

“I came for something.”

“I don’t have anything.” you shook your head. “You should leave.” you started to walk away and he followed.

“I know you have it.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about.” you stood outside your house, contemplating and turning around. “They don’t know about me being a witch, Sirius. They don’t know.”

“I just need the locket and I’m on my way.” he opened his palm to you. “Or you can tell me where Regulus is and he can give it to me himself.” 

Something flashed across your eyes as he said his name. Something Sirius always saw in the mirror of his eyes. Something he was far too familiar. 

You were quiet. 

You looked away.

Just as he always did when he grieved for James.

His heart sunk into the depth of his stomach, his eyes tearing up when all you did was stay quiet and not look at him. He knew and that broke him. “No..” tears began to fall down his cheeks. “He- he’s missing.”

You looked at him with tears in your eyes but kept them inside. “He’s been dead for years, Sirius.” 

---

Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with his tea cup in his hands. His eyes were glossy as glass and it was just a moment before they shattered into pieces. 

There were foorsteps approaching him. They were too small for your or your husband to make, so Sirius looked up.

There was the oldest of the three, just looking at him and observing. “You’re mommies friend from the pictures.” he said and Sirius only looked at him confusely.

“Your mommie has pictures of me?” he asked and the little boy nodded.

“You’re old now.” he continued and Sirius laughed. 

“Yeah... A little bit.”

“A lot.” 

Sirius let out another laugh and the boy finally smiled. He might not look at you but he definetly had your smile. 

“She named me after you.” he started fumbling with his fingers. 

Sirius, in shock from what he just heard, looked at the little boy and asked. “Named you after me?”

He nodded again, looking back in the kitchen where you and your husband were talking about your guest. “Regulus.” he smiled, showing his baby teeth. The front one was already gone. 

Sirius couldn’t help himself but to fell his heart fill with warmth of his brother’s memory. “Regulus was my brother.” Sirius said and the little one watched, saying no word at all. 

Sirius forgot that he and Regulus looked alike. For a moment, he forgot that he had a brother and brothers do look a lot like each other. 

“Explains a lot.” he said and Sirius furrowed his eyebrows again. This boy confuses him just like you did. “You’re old.”

“I’m not that old.” he started to defend himself. 

“Come on, sport! Let’s go find your brother and sister. We’re going for an ice cream!” your husband and you walked in the living room, standing close to each other. 

You gave him the look; the one you always gave to James when the two of you were together. The man kissed your cheek and left with his oldest as you made your way to Sirius. 

When the two of you were sure that your husband and the kids left, Sirius smiled. “You have a family.” 

“I do.” you replied, smiling as well.

“The oldest is really mean.” he added and you laughed. “Get’s that after you.” 

“He’s a sweetheart.” 

“You named him after my brother.” he leaned back forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In memory?” 

“I named the boys, he named the girls.”

“There’s more versions of you?!”

“Don’t be so suprised.” you let out a laugh. “We both wanted a big family.”

“I didn’t see-”

“She’s in Durmstrang. She’s already eleven.” 

“Oh.” Sirius fell back, looking around for a picture and finding it on the fireplace. “Does she throw punches like the youngest?” 

You let out another laugh and shook your head. “No. Cathy takes after me, Viana is definetly daddy’s little princess.” 

“You said she’s in Durmstrang. I thought you said they didn’t know.” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“He knows. It’s he kids that don’t know. They think their sister is somewhere in a boarding school.”

“Why Durmstrang?”

“She wanted to go there.” 

“She?”

“Yes, she did, Sirius. We gave her a list of schools and she picked Durmstrang. She’s ambitious and strong. She wanted the biggest challange.”

Sirius only nodded, looking back to the picture and seeing the boy riding a bicycle on one. His brother flashed into his memory and he couldn’t help himself but ask. “What- how- what happened with my brother? I mean... you- you just disappeared and never came back again.” 

You looked down at your cup for a moment, horrible memories entering your mind as you wanted to explain. You swallowed all the fear and looked him in the eyes. “He said he was a coward, the day he died. We were at the cave and he said he was always a coward.” you started and he listened. “I told him that what he was doing was definetly something a coward would never do.”

Sirius took a deep breath in, eyes glistening again as the scene entered his eyes. “He went for the locket.”

“He didn’t want him to win and he succeeded.” you smiled. “He drank it all, didn’t let me take a sip...

‘ “I can’t. I can’t do it anymore, please make it stop, (y/n). Make it stop!” he cried, holding the conch in his hands.

Crying, you took the conch but he didn’t let it go. “I’ll drink it, Reg. I can drink it.”

“NO!” he poured the water in his mouth, sobering up just enough for him to say: “Don’t drink it. I won’t let you.” his eyes were pure of love and adoration as he looked up at you, raw of emotions before they turned to the lake. “DON’T LEAVE ME! I LOVE YOU SIRIUS! COME BACK! PLEASE COME BACK!” he screamed at the lake as if he was back on that day. “IF YOU LEAVE I’LL NEVER LOOK AT YOU AGAIN! IF YOU LEAVE WE’RE NOT BROTHERS ANYMORE!” 

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as the last sip made it to the conch. You put it Regulus as he grabbed your hands, crying. “Mother, please. He didn’t mean to- he didn’t mean to-”

“Just drink the water, baby.” 

He shook his head like a child. “No.” he cried. “Don’t make me drink it.” 

“It’s the last, I promise.” ‘

... and he did. He drank it all and when he did the locket appeared and we were ready to leave. He was barely on his feet but he started to get better with every step. When we saw the Inferno, we knew it was over for us. I told him I won’t leave him. Not now, not ever again. I told him till the end but..

‘ He cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply and smiling. “I love you, (Y/n).” and he pushed you into the boat where infernos started to rock and crawl upon it. “KEEP THE LOCKET SAFE!”

“REGULUS! NO! GET BACK HERE! REGULUS! REGULUS!!!” you screamed and wailed after him but he had already threw himself among them’

... he was weak and he tried to fire spells at them but he couldn’t. He was there one second and gone the next.” you finally looked up at Sirius whose tears kept falling from his eyes. 

“He relieved the worst memory of his life...” tears continued to fall like an ocean from his pure grey eyes. “...which was me leaving him..”

“He loved you, Sirius.” you moved to sit next to him, holding his hands. “He didn’t tell me much but he adored you, even when you left... he understood why.”

“He killed himself.”

“He wanted what’s best for the good of the world. He didn’t want to be Voldemort’s little puppy anymore.”

“All this time I thought he was.” Sirius looked at you, eyes finally shattered. 

You took a better hold of his cold hands, warming them up and bringing them up to your lips. “He looked up to you, Sirius. He loved you. You should remember him as the hero he died as.” you smiled as he continued to look at you. “Here.” you said and grabbed a pen from the near by chest. You opened his palm and started to write on it. “This is the adress where his memorial is. It’s a cemetery a few miles west from here. I burried the locket there since I didn’t have his body.” you stopped writing and closed his hand. “I put his name, his birth date and his death date. Be careful with it thought. It’s dangerous.”

Sirius looked at his palm, then back at you and pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

You let out a laugh and hugged him back. “It’s the least I can do.” you said as he pulled away, both of you standing up and walking to the door. “If you need-”

“No.” he turned around, opening the door. “You stay away from this war as much as you can, (Y/N). You have a family and too many people had died already. Don’t let us lose another.” 

“I’m a fighter, you noodle arm.” you objected and he laughed. 

“I know but family... it’s important.”

“I know.” you nodded, leaning on the door frame and finding yourself looking at that man for one last time...

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 14

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8. pt 9. pt 10. pt 11. pt 12. pt 13.

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her (Aramour)

The girls are all getting ready to move. Kind of a fluff chapter until the end.

“Is everyone ready?” Catherine called as she loaded the last of Jane’s things into their car.

“Yeah. Are you good to follow us?” Cathy’s head popped out of their car’s trunk.

“Yes. And Anne and Katherine are following us, right?” Cathy nodded in confirmation.

“Yes, and on the way, we’re going to stop by Jane’s parents for a bit. Does that sound okay?”

“That’s fine. We’d love to finally meet the people who brought the most amazing person into the world.” Kat smiled. She really had grown attached to the blonde.

“Alright. Jane, are you ready, love?”

“Give me a second. If you expect me to drive this distance, I’m going to need to change into a pair of sweatpants.”

“You’re such a goof.” Catherine kissed the top of her head.

“Yeah,” Jane laughed. “But I’m your goof and- oh gosh was that cheesy.”

“I like cheesy though, especially when it’s you. Don’t you remember senior prom?”

“Oh my God,” the blonde groaned. “How could I forget?” Catherine began laughing.

“What happened at senior prom?” Kat came out from the house with the last of her things.

“We better get going, but if you call Jane, I’m sure she’ll tell you.” Jane nodded as she took the keys from Catherine’s hand.

What do you mean you’re not going? It’s my senior prom!” A seventeen year old Jane Seymour yelled.

“I’m just not. Why would I want to go to something this formal with someone I don’t even want to go with?”

“I guess you’re right,” Jane relented. “Henry and I will miss you though.”

“I’m sure you’ll have enough fun without me.”

“Yeah? That’s what you think,” she snorted.

The night of prom, Jane was in her room when the phone rang.

“Honey, it’s for you!” Margaret called up the stairs.

She eagerly picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey babe. I can’t make it tonight,” Henry faked sadness in his voice. “Thomas got tickets, VIP tickets, to a hockey game. I have to-”

“What the hell? It’s prom! You can’t just-”

“Babe, I know. But come on! They’re VIP tickets! You would take this opportunity if it was for one of your stupid broadway shows or whatever.”

“Whatever,” she muttered as she hung up the phone and began to change out of her dress.

She walked down the stairs in sweatpants. Margaret was ready with open arms.

“He cancelled Ma. I don't get it.”

“It’s okay. You can still go and hang out with Cath right?” Her mother seethed silently.

“She’s not-” the phone in her hand rang. “Speak of the devil. Give me a sec?” Margaret nodded and walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Why the whisper? Oh shit, is Henry there? I can let you-”

“He’s not.”

“Oh. I was just wondering why my best friend hasn’t messaged me a picture of herself in that beautiful dress yet.”

“Funny story,” she laughed bitterly. “I’m in sweatpants right now. I’m not-”

“He stood you up?” Jane nodded into the phone. “Do you have the tickets?”

“Yes,” the blonde’s voice cracked.

“Get your dress on. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Cath, you don’t have to.” The line went dead. Jane walked back to her mother. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Are you okay honey?” The younger Seymour nodded and ran to her room with purpose.

Twenty minutes later, she heard Catherine’s soft voice floating through the rafters of her house.

“Hey Cath,” Margaret called from her place in the kitchen.

“Hey Marge. Is Janey ready?”

“She’s up in her r-” Margaret froze in her tracks and turned the corner to see Catherine in a pantsuit. ��You’re taking her?”

“Of course I am. Although, since I don’t attend the school anymore, I’m going to have to ask you to call the school to confirm that I am indeed allowed in.” At this point, Jane was standing at the steps, her presence still unknown.

“I’ll do that when you two leave. John! Get up here!” She turned to Catherine. “I don’t have to give you the same talk I was going to give Henry, now do I?”

“No ma’am. Back by midnight. Treat her like she’s the- treat her right.”

“Hi.” Jane smiled shyly.

“Wow,” was all the hispanic could breathe out. “You look beautiful. Like, stunning. Amazing.”

Jane paused her storytelling to Kat and turned to face Catherine. “You know,” she sighed. “No one ever called me beautiful or gorgeous besides my family before you. Henry always said I was ‘hot’ or ‘smoking’.”

“Well you better expect to be called beautiful a lot now.”

“Uh guys? Not that I don’t love witnessing your little moments, I have a feeling there’s more to the story,” Kat giggled.

After the two had taken all of the stereotypical prom photos, they were shooed out of the house.

“After you my dear.” Catherine made a grand gesture as she ushered the blonde out the door, her hand on the small of her back.

“Be smart you two,” John called out after them. Jane went to pull the door handle of Catherine’s car open when Catalina stopped her by putting a hand over hers.

“Chivalry isn’t dead you know,” Catherine quipped as she helped the girl dressed in silver into the car before jogging around to the driver’s side. “Sorry it’s not some grand-”

“Stop. It’s perfect. Going with the one person I actually wanted to go with is perfect.”

“I remember asking myself if you actually meant that.” Catherine smirked.

“I remember trying to convince myself that what I said wasn’t true, and I was trying to convince myself to not be sad. I think even then though, I knew what I said was true.”

“Do you want to dance?” Catherine held out her hand for Jane to take.

“Wait really?”

“Well, we are at a dance afterall.”

“It’s just, Henry never let's me dance. He always jokes that I can’t dance.”

“Well, I’ll let you dance. Come on, it’s just a slow dance. The last three years of waltzing with my mom are sure to pay off.” Jane laughed and followed her lead, lacing their fingers together. It was a bit tricky at first, as Catherine was used to following instead of leading, but eventually the two fell into a rhythm. She made sure to savor this moment forever, holding Jane close as they swayed slowly to the beat.

“Do you-”

“Do whatever you want weirdo. I’ll make it work,” Catherine laughed quietly. Jane slowly lowered her head into the crook of her date’s neck and let it rest there, listening to her heartbeat.

“I thought my heart was going to stop when you did that.” Catherine blushed, knotting her hand in Jane’s.

“Me too.”

After prom, the two ended up in a diner, laughing and giggling the entire time over french fries and root beer. They were getting ready to leave when Catherine was handed a lava cake instead.

“On the house,” the older waitress said. “It’s so nice to see such a young couple so in love and not caring what the world thinks. I wish it was like that when I was younger. My partner and I went through a lot of hell for a while.”

“You’re-”

“Yeah, we are. Aren’t we babe?” Jane grinned at Catherine.

“You guys are so cute. Enjoy, and seriously, everything is on the house tonight.

“Wow. Thank you so much.” Catherine left a generous tip, and the two left.

When they arrived at the Seymour house, Catherine kissed her cheek softly and smiled, “Always have to end prom night with a goodnight kiss.”

“Goodnight,” Jane kissed Catherine softly on the cheek. “Uh, Henry broke up with me over text tonight. Thank you for everything tonight.” She left the hispanic at her doorstep, Catherine’s face bright red.

“Could you imagine where we would be if Henry hadn’t asked for you to take him back?”

“Honestly, I’m not too sure. I think we finally got it right though.”

“I’ll tell you something: we would’ve been married by now. I wouldn’t have made you wait.”

“You guys are too cute,” Katherine swooned. “Alright, I’m going to hang up and try to catch up on sleep. See you guys in a little.”

“Bye love. Stay safe.”

“Thanks... mom,” Kat laughed a little at calling Jane ‘Mom’.

“Of course dear,” Jane responded without hesitation. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

After driving for quite some time, the two had been talking about anything and everything.

“Car games?” Jane asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

“Can we play the one where we make up stories for people who pass us?”

“Of course.”

Jane had been staring out the bus window for the past five minutes without saying a word.

“Janey, are you good? Phillips has been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Was asking if you’re excited?”

“Oh. I guess I just zoned out playing a mind game. I look at a car for five seconds and make up their story.”

“Oh. I’ll play?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? It sounds like fun.”

“Henry thinks it’s stupid.”

“Well, I’ll play.” Catherine didn't miss the smile on Jane’s face.

The two laughed while they made up stories.

“They’re going to meet her family. He’s super nervous, but she keeps telling funny stories to help him relax.”

“Yeah, but they have kids in the back,” Catherine pointed out.

“Well then, they’re visiting her parents, and she looks like she just got the kids to sleep, so she’s relaxed, but her husband is still nervous.”

“That sounds-” the hispanic was cut off by Jane’s phone.

“I’ve got it.” Catherine reached for the phone. “Aragon.”

“It’s Beale. Is Jane with you?”

“Yeah, she’s driving though.”

“Okay, well I have some information. We lost track of Henry. His friend Thomas Culpepper also recently went awol. We can only believe it’s to look for Jane. We suggest going somewhere else for now.”

“Already on it. Heading to another location now. Was going to tell you when we got there. Our housemates are with us too.”

“Okay. Our best wishes to both of you. Bye now.” Beale was getting more comfortable with the new couple.

“Thank you, bye.” She hung up.

“Who was that?” Jane’s eyebrows raised but her eyes stayed trained on the road in front of her.

“Beale. We’re ahead of him though, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Don’t sugar coat.”

“They lost Henry, and now they don’t know where Thomas is.”

“Of course.” Her face stayed stoic, but she began to grip the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Relax babe. It’s okay. We’re all here for you.” Catherine grabbed her partner’s hand tentatively. “Why don’t we take a break from driving for now? I’ll tell the others to pull over at the next rest stop, we can grab a bite, and then I can drive while you sleep. Yeah?” Jane nodded slightly, bile rising up in her throat at the thought of both Henry and Thomas being awol.

[tenpin-boleyn]

Boleyn x Parr Part 2

Hi yeah it’s me again. This is probably the worst thing I have ever written, but at this point in my life I’m too tired to care :) I mentally drained myself trying to put myself into Annes shoes oops and now I feel nothing 😂

So before I get attacked for anything in this piece, please know that most of the words aren’t exclusively mine. My friend actually ended up in this situation at age 14, and now she has the most adorable baby in the entire world I’m jealous af, and I asked for her help to try and see what Anne would think! So all of these thoughts Anne has are based on what my friend said, so this is as realistic as I could muster! Teen pregnancy isn’t a joke and is a real thing that happens, and it isn’t anybody’s right to discriminate or to judge and I just wanted to get this out of the way before I started! :)

Warnings: Teen Pregnancy, Abortion, Swearing. I think that’s it but please message or reply if there’s any you want added! :)

Also I gave up because I was so tired towards the end and decided to post this anyway. Oops please don’t hate me I’m tired :) I might continue this. I might not :)

—————————————

“Are you okay in there?” Cathy asked from outside the bathroom door. After taking Anne to bed, making sure she had her stuffed dog beside her, Parr had snuck away to the corner shop and bought a cheap pregnancy test for Anne; earning a rather dirty look from the old lady at the till. She was glad Anne wasn’t with her, if the lady had given that look to Anne, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. As soon as she returned Anne was waiting on the stairs, stuffed toy in hand, like a child who had just had a nightmare but was too scared to find their parents, and the look on her face showed Cathy that she knew exactly what was in her bag.

“Yeah. It’s just taking a long time-“ Anne whispered. She was torn between opening the door and letting Cathy see before her, and keeping it locked so she was free to climb out of the window if it turned out to be positive. Long after the test had shown its results, still unseen to Anne, she let Cathy in- thrusting the stick on her. Parr stole a look at Anne before glancing down at the piece of papery plastic that could and would change Anne’s life forever. “It’s positive.”

The thought had been playing on her mind for at least a week, but to hear it out loud set it in stone. She suddenly lost connection to the world, she didn’t feel her body slam to the floor, she couldn’t hear Cathy yelling her name, and she couldn’t hear herself sobbing into the towel she discarded that morning. The first time she fell pregnant she was over the moon, she had a child to share her love with- and if I made Henry love her then that was just an added bonus. The first time she felt Elizabeth in her arms she couldn’t help but feel her world being completed. Her big blue eyes staring at her, and the little tuffs of red hair made Anne instantly fall in love with her. But what Anne realised now, was that her baby killed her. She didn’t blame Elizabeth for anything, she would give her life for Lizzie in a heartbeat, but she knew that the baby killed her. And even in this life she knew the baby would kill her; there was no Henry, but there was the problem of her body and society and her education. Anne was barely 16, she still cursed the world with every cramp she felt each month- she couldn’t push a baby out of her. And god knows what she would say to everyone but she knew what they would think. “Poor pathetic Anne, ruining her life so early on. What a shame. She had so much potential.” She couldn’t do that to herself.

Catherine was in a panic, she was fearful that Anne had somehow got a concussion when she fell. And it didn’t help that she wasn’t responding to her voice or her touch. “Annie please say something!”

What Catherine didn’t expect was annes abrupt response. “Where the fuck is the gin” Catherine let out a sigh of relief, she wasn’t happy about Anne’s instant response to any problem in her life being alcohol, but at least she knew that Anne was herself. “Why? Remember the last time you got drunk?” Parr instantly regretted her words. Her girlfriend was pregnant with a baby she didn’t want, from a guy she didn’t want and she didn’t even remember it happening. How could she be so stupid?

“I read in a book that it gets rid of it...” the girl whispered, looking 5 years younger, sat against the bath still clenching the dog. It didn’t seem possible to the pair, but their hearts broke again, Cathy’s was broken from wishing with all of her might that she could take her pain away. And Anne’s for obvious reasons.

“Anne Millicent Boleyn you listen to me right now. We are going to go sit in your bed, I’m going to get you a glass of water and we are going to discuss every option there is. If you want to get rid of this baby, we’re going to do it safely, and if you want to keep it, then we will figure out a plan to tell the others and a plan of what we need to sort out okay?” At this Anne snapped awake, sulking and moving around wouldn’t solve her issues, she would have to deal with this at some point, and knowing her girlfriend it would be as soon as possible. And Catherine followed through on her word. She tucked Anne into the duvet, went to get her a glass of water and came back with her laptop.

“Right. Drink this whenever you feel like you are going to be sick or just feel unwell, because I’m not stopping until we’ve sorted this out okay?” Catherine’s wise eyes smiled down upon Anne, in the way that made Anne fall in love with her from the start and she couldn’t help but feel safe, tucked into bed with her- no matter the situation. “Okay.”

Anne watched as Catherine typed furiously into the laptop, as much as Anne hated emotions, she couldn’t help but feel so much love and she couldn’t believe that she was being so supportive of her... “okay so the NHS says that your options are:

* continuing with the pregnancy and keeping the baby

* having an abortion

* continuing with the pregnancy and having the baby adopted.

If you decide to continue your pregnancy, the next step is to start your antenatal care.”

“What the actual fuck does that mean.”

“Hold on. Oh it’s just the care you get when you’re pregnant.” Anne took a sip of water at this. It was all feeling so real now, and it scared her. Lots. “What are your immediate thoughts? I mean if you keep the baby, you’ve got a loving household of queens who will happily jump at the chance to cuddle and care for a baby, or you could go through with this and give it up after it’s born or I could take you to a clinic and we’ll never speak about this again.” Catherine felt like she was being too blunt, but in all honestly she was as scared as Anne. She didn’t know the slightest thing about pregnancy or anything, but she was trying to stay professional, for her baby girl. “I’ll have to keep it.” Anne blurted our, faster than Henry could say “off with her head!”

“What makes you say that?”

“I can’t take the chance of being a mother away from the queens. Catherine, Jane and Anna all had their children taken from them and now I’ve got the chance to have a child, it feels wrong to take it from them. If they ever found out, they’d be heartbroken.” Catherine pulled Anne in closer, holding her as tight as she could manage. “As sweet and as kind as that may be, this isn’t their baby. It’s yours, and you’ll be the one looking after it. If you decide to keep it, it’s going to have to be for you. You need to want this child for yourself. Not for anyone else. Put yourself first babe. I will support you all the way if you want to have this baby, but only if you want it.” Anne looked up at Parr, the fear evident in her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Cathy. “And if you’re worried about them finding out, I won’t tell a soul, but we need to hide this stick before the queens get back if you chose that option.”

Anne sat silently, contemplating one small decision that would alter her entire life. Instead of verbally replying to Parr, she stole the laptop from her and began to scroll down, reading more on the options. They both sat like this for a while, before Anne was certain. As much as she had loved Lizzie, she couldn’t bear to have another child at this point in her life. It just seemed so wrong to her. “Cathy, I don’t want to keep it.” To this Anne snuggled into the older girl even more, and Parr just stroked her hair, hoping that this was Anne making the decision and that she was certain about what she was doing.

—————————————

“Boleyn, Anne?” A woman cried out into the busy waiting room. The room was busier than Anne had hoped, but all of the chatter seemed to take her mind off of life, so she didn’t mind. Anne stood up, clenching Cath’s hand as she did. As she reached the woman she managed to muster up as many words as she was able. “Can my girlfriend come too?” The voice was weak and totally out of character for Anne, not so much recently but generally. “Of course she can.” The woman smiled. She was in her early 40s and was already starting to Grey, but Anne thought that it made her look kinder- if that was even a thing- but alas it helped to calm herself, she wasn’t going to question it. The lady led the pair down the hallway and into room 2, inviting them to sit next to her desk. “So Miss Anne Boleyn, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re here for a medically induced abortion, correct?”

“Yes.” Cathy squeezed Annes hand, hoping that it would give some comfort to her girlfriend.

“Okay perfect. Before we start any procedures or any tests etc, I’m going to have to speak to you alone for a few minutes if that’s okay? It’s just to run through the risks, and your reasons for termination. It’s just a routine test we do to make sure you’re doing the best thing for yourself.”

Parr smiled at Anne again, giving her a comforting nod that told her that she would be right outside and she wasn’t going anywhere.

————————————

The chat was taking longer than Catherine had expected, but then again she had been researching abortions in adults. Perhaps there were more questions to ask for a teenager, Parr told herself. And before she had even realised, she was pacing the floor anxiously. Parr knew this procedure and interview inside and out, she had spent nights looking everything up, making sure it was safe, and that Anne would be okay; but she couldn’t help but feel nervous. She knew all of the queens had emotional scars, and physical scars as the cousins liked to point out every chance they had, so adding a terminated pregnancy to annes long list of issues didn’t strike Parr as comforting. Anne pretended to be strong; she was the witty one, the feisty one. But under all of that, she hid her pain with jokes and midnight tears and fits of rage where she would smash up her room and just sit in the mess crying at what she had done. Catherine tried her best, but there was only so far hugs and facts about bugs could go. To be fair the facts about bugs inspired Annes pranks on Aragon, but that’s beside the point.

“Uh Catherine, you can come back in now.” The woman popped her neck around the door and smiled. Catherine smelt Annes familiar scent of cinnamon pancakes and a hint of cleaning fluids- coming from the very large hand sanitiser bottles- as she retook her position next to Anne. “Ready babe?”

“No but fuck it”

————————————

“Catherine, Anne. Nice to see you on this fine day.” Before the girls had even walked through the door, Jane was standing waiting for them, Katherine peering out from a door behind her. Cath didn’t know what to do, on one hand Anne seemed to be fine, but at the same time she knew that although Anne had taken the pill option, it was still a mental toll on her. “I’ve had the headteacher on the phone for an hour screaming about how 2 of her students had snuck out of school and caused a lock down on campus. Care to explain?” Jane tilted her head at the pair and looked furious. Anne was, as suspected, mentally exhausted and wasn’t taking anyone’s shit, especially the woman who had taken her man the day after she was beheaded. “What the fuck is it to you, you’re not my mum?” Catherine looked defeated, of course Anne would say something like this. “What she means to say is-“

“Nah I meant it. Now if you don’t mind im going to my room so bog off!”

With Anne half way up the stairs, still wearing her Heelys, Jane looked at Catherine with a look that said “if you don’t tell me what’s going on I’ll hide your library card.” “Anne was having a bit of trouble and I thought that she should have the day off. It’s my fault entirely- please don’t blame her.”

[ironemrys]

The Mission

Pairing: Tom Holland x OC

Word Count: 5.1k (I’m sorry it’s long again)

Tags: #OC x Tom Holland, #Secret Agent AU, #loosely based on Taken, #tom holland fanfiction, #there’s also characters from different fandoms, #and other artists that I used as characters, #you’ll know them when you read ‘em, #Tom Holland, #Alternate Universe, #again

A/N: Hello. I’m back with a secret agent AU. not like my other work is finished but meh... I like this one so hi. Oh and I used canva for the poster thing.

Warning: There’s a lot of cursing. Possible lemon. Violence and drug use. This is just a story so please treat it as such.

Summary: Tom Holland is careful in everything that he does. He's patient and organized and in order for him to be the best at his job he always follows the rules, always thinks of a plan and always prepares a backup plan.

Tom works for a secret government agency known as SHIELD, he usually works alone but is not one to shy away from any assistance offered by whosoever is willing.

When a Class S mission arises, he is suddenly forced to work with another agent named Catherine Silverton who is his exact opposite. Catherine is a reckless hot head who uses most of her gut feeling when dealing with unimaginable situations. She's not one to plan, she doesn’t like waiting around and she hates working long term with other people. 

With the lives of many at stake, will they be able to put aside their differences and learn to work together?

Chapters: 2 | 3 

 In an old storage house near a loading dock, a group of armed men were busy hauling crates onto a ship that is set to leave after midnight.

"How much longer?" A tall, balding man asked as he walked towards the ship. He wore a thick long sleeve covered by a bulletproof vest. His boots and pants were dirty with mud, sand and blood. His one good eye looked towards the ship and then at the men who continued on their work.

"We're almost done boss. After this batch, we'll be ready to move the weapons to Siberia." A young man answered. He wore a plain shirt and black cargo pants, his gloved hand held a black mask and in the other he held a gun.

"Excellent. These weapons will secure our position in the black market. Make sure everything is in place." The tall man said and walked away to the storage house. Inside, there were a more of the armed men, storing the different kinds of weapons carefully in crates and then covering them up with straw.

"Boss. Mr. Stone, sir." Once the name was spoken, all of them stopped what they were doing and gave a salute to the man in charge.

“At ease.” Stone replied and the men continued on their work. Once he and his men were done here, they would move to Siberia and sell to the highest bidder the weapons of war they acquired by infiltrating different military bases around the continent.

"Storage this is the perimeter, we found an unconscious body near the west entrance of the loading dock.” One of the men’s radios suddenly started.

“Perimeter, investigate the matter quickly and dispose of whoever is responsible.” Stone said after grabbing a radio off of one of his men.

“Copy that.”

Stone walked over to a table full of unpacked weapons and he grabbed one in his hand.

“Stay sharp. Kill on sight.” He ordered and the men nodded before taking their own guns. Suddenly, gunshot after gunshot was heard right outside the storage house. The men inside formed a barrier to protect their boss and their trade. They all pointed their guns at the closed entrance, waiting for whoever was behind the commotion.

"What the hell is going on out there?" One asked when something suddenly struck his neck and he fell forward unconscious.

“Hey! Jason!” His ally nudged him with a foot and but there was no response. The armed men looked around the place and pointed their guns here and there.

“It’s become quiet outside.” One then said and looked to two of his peers. They nodded at each other and slowly walked towards the entrance. The first of them opened the door and pointed his gun but he felt something hit him in the forehead and he fell unconscious just like the other one.

“Shit!” The other two jumped away from the door and on cue two small grenades came rolling in and filled the place with smoke.

“What the fuck!” The remaining men cried out and covered their eyes while coughing violently because of the smoke.

Suddenly, a shadow moved in quickly between the smoke and the armed men, knocking them out and taking away their guns.  After a few blind punches and curses, Stone was the only one left standing in the middle.

"Bastard! SHOW YOURSELF!" Stone yelled in the air, his gun pointing in a meaningless direction.

"Baron Stone." A voice perked up and Stone saw a dark shadow standing in the smoke. He aimed his gun and fired all the bullets towards the unknown presence. The fog died down but there was no body found on the ground where he shot at.

"You are under arrest for the larceny of military owned weapons, murder, aggravated assault, arms trafficking and shall I go on?" The voice asked but the person speaking still cannot be seen.

"Show yourself!" Stone demanded again and looked around the storage house when someone grabbed his gun and quickly disarmed him. Stone tried to aim for a punch but it was skillfully blocked and a strong blow came in contact with his chest and he dropped to his knees before losing consciousness.

"Capture: Complete." The young man pressed on his earpiece and sirens of police cars were heard closing in on the location. A team of armed men all wearing special police uniforms came walking in to take the suspects in custody.

"Great work Tom. You’ve done it again. I thought with this many men under Stone's you'd have trouble in dealing with them." A tall man with brown hair wearing a police vest over his red and black long sleeve snickered. He held a sniper gun to his side and he reached his other hand towards the agent for a handshake.

“I couldn’t have done it without your help Harrison.” Tom nodded.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure you could’ve done better on your own.” Harrison laughed and gave Tom a pat on the back.

"Maybe. But like I always say: Two heads are better than one." Tom replied with a smile.

"Right. Anyway, we’ll finish up here, you get back to base. I heard there’s another mission waiting for you." Harrison answered and Tom gave him a nod before walking outside to his car and driving back to SHIELD.

Tom Holland is careful in everything that he does. He's patient and organized and in order for him to be the best at his job he always follows the rules, always thinks of a plan and always prepares a backup plan.

At the age of twenty-four, Tom has accomplished missions more than those older than him. The thing about him is that he has dozens of plans up his sleeve. Whenever there is a situation that is hard to handle, he quickly thinks of a way in detail before putting it to action. He's young but he’s very professional. Tom started working for SHIELD right after he graduated from the police academy and he’s been there for six years. He started first with a partner; Agent Harrison, but now that he’s good enough to go on his own, he does. But Tom isn’t one to shy away from any assistance offered by whosoever is willing so whenever Harrison doesn’t have a mission of his own, he and Tom usually do cases together.

"Oh hey Tom. I see you're back from the Stone Mission, good work." Ethan Hunt; the commanding officer in charge of SHIELD’s England Base, looks up from his desk as Tom walks in his office.

"Yeah Mr. Hunt, it was quickly dealt with thanks to Harrison’s help.” Tom replies and looks around Ethan’s office. It was full of papers and unfinished cups of coffee. “Harrison says you have another mission for me?" He then asks after a moment of silence.

“I do. But rest first for a while and I'll see you back in the meeting room after six." Ethan replied and got back to his paperwork.

Tom made his way to the agency's shower room and decided to freshen up. As usual, it was empty and quiet since no one uses the shower room at three in the morning. But it was normal now for Tom to have such late missions and he didn’t mind. Crime never sleeps and it was part of his job to adjust.

After cleaning up, Tom walked out wearing a set of casual clothes; a black hoodie and jeans. He fixed his now blow dried hair and walked to the agency's gadget room which was found at the lower levels of the building.

"Hey Holland! Welcome back!" The short and blonde gadget expert named Benji, greeted Tom once he stepped foot inside.

"What's up?" Tom asked while walking over to Benji's work table.

"I'm making a new item. Jacob over there is helping me." Benji replied and nudged his head to where a young man about Tom’s age was shooting arrows from a crossbow across a firing range.

"A crossbow?" Tom asked and raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yep. But I'm making it to be automatic, so you won't have to add bows for every fifty shots. And then you refill it with this, so it’s kinda like a gun. It’s supposed to be lighter than a gun and with a few more modifications I can induce sleeping serums inside the bows." Benji replied as he showed what looked like a bullet magazine, except it was filled with tiny bows.

"I see. How's it going so far?" Tom asked again while examining the weapon.

"Pretty good. It's almost done." Jacob answered as he walked away from the firing range. He and Tom gave each other a high five followed by a very elaborate handshake.

“You kids are weird.” Benji said while tinkering with the crossbow.

“We’re literally twenty-four.” Jacob responded to the remark while rolling his eyes.

“Like I said, kids.” Benji snickered earning a laugh from Tom. It was true though, Harrison, him and Jacob were the youngest agents in the England Base and the three of them started at the same time in SHIELD after graduating together from the academy.

"Hey, you know what I heard?" Jacob suddenly said so Tom and Benji turned to him.

"I heard that this next mission of yours is pretty big."He added and Tom raised a brow.

“How do you mean?” He asked.

"Yeah. All of Tom's missions are big. I mean, there’s nothing new about that." Benji retorted but Jacob shook his head.

"I know that but I heard Ethan talking to Colin, you know? The head of the New York Base? So I'm guessing you'll be leaving England for a while again." Jacob said and this got Tom more interested in his next mission since he's been in and out of England lots of times and he enjoyed going on missions in places he's not really familiar with. 

"Well, whatever it is, I'll deal with it like how I always do." Tom replied and the other two nodded in response.

"So this mission, where am I going exactly?" It was eight o’clock in the morning and Ethan had just finished debriefing Tom on his new mission.

"You'll be going to Las Vegas to meet the agent sent by Colin. You two will work together as a team and finish this mission with extreme vigilance. Colin will add more to what I have laid for you, he has the complete story on this mission.” Ethan answered and Tom nodded.

“This agent, do you have a file on him? I’d like to know someone before I work with them.” Tom said and Ethan handed him a folder.

“This is Agent Silverton. She’s about your age and she’s been in the agency for four years. Also an academy graduate.” Ethan started and Tom opened the folder to view the file.

"Your plane leaves in sixteen hours so I suggest you get ready and get some rest." Harrison said since he too was inside the meeting room.

Tom gave them a nod and left to set his affairs in order. Once he was sure he didn’t forget anything, he started to read the file on Agent Silverton until he fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in an underground cellar, a deal was being made between two parties.

"It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Jones." A large dark haired man surrounded by equally large men with firearms shook hands with a sharply dressed lanky fellow.

“Likewise Mr. Brown.” Jones replied before exchanging a duffle bag for a sealed briefcase. The duffle bag contained illegal drugs and the two parties are well known dealers but are also skilled assassins that are hunted by the local police.

Suddenly, gunshots and shouts were heard from outside their trading room. Brown’s men held on their guns and ran out to see the commotion.

"The fuck is going on out there?!" Jones asked and took out his own gun.

"SHIELD followed us in! All men at the gate are down!" Someone from the outside ran towards them.

“How many agents?" Brown asked through gritted teeth. They were so careful not be caught but it seems that SHIELD has picked up their trail.

Before the man could answer, the sound of a gun going off echoed in the cellar and the man was shot down.

"Well, well... Jones and Brown. Finally." A voice spoke and the leaders looked up to see a single agent standing on the doorway. Brown aimed his gun and quickly shot fire but missed the agent who hid behind a pillar.

"LET'S GO!!" He shouted at Jones and they ran to the back door. They scrambled outside the building and got in a parked van. The agent then came out of the building but Jones shot fire and the agent ducked down to avoid the bullet. Screams from people within the area scattered as they ran for cover.

"DRIVE!" Jones ordered and they sped off.

"Well fuck. This is just great." The agent sighed and ran to the street before seeing a man in a motorcycle.

"Hey!" The man stopped abruptly before the figure standing on the street to block his way.

"Yeah, hi, I need to borrow your motor for a while." The agent said before flashing a badge. The man quickly got out and was about to hand over his helmet but the agent had already driven off.

"Catherine. Where are you? We're at the site. It’s a fucking mess back here, the fuck did you do?" A voice perked up from the agent's earpiece.

"I’m in pursuit. And shut up Bradley they shot at me first.” Catherine replied before taking a sharp left. “Oh and, you might wanna buy a new motorcycle for this guy. I’m pretty sure you can still find him right outside the building." she added with a grin that was followed by an exasperated grunt.

"God damn it woman! That's the fourth bike you took this month!" Bradley yelled.

"What? Not my fault those guys made a run for it..." Catherine answered so the latter just sighed.

"Just make sure you don’t do too much damage this time like what you did in the tower. That was hard to cover up." Bradley reminded and Catherine chuckled.

"Yeah, sure thing." She replied before speeding up upon seeing the van where Jones and Brown were.

"Gotcha." She whispered and turned to the right for a shortcut in order to cut them off.

She passed by a small street and noticed a bunch of street vendors and their stalls set up with onlookers shopping here and there but since she can't stop, she knew what she had to do in order to pass.

“Outta the way people! Good guy chasing a villain here!” She yelled and honked the motor horn. The people around shouted in panic as she passed with her speeding motor, they jumped and scrambled away from the small street, causing them to tumble over the kiosks.

"SORRY!!" She yelled but kept on going.

"Colin’s gonna kill me." She mumbled before taking a left turn and saw the van right in front of her. The cars honked but she didn’t mind and followed the van behind, she sped up a little and once she was closer to the van, she reached for the door and slid it open before jumping inside.

"WHAT THE!?" Jones yelled and turned around only to be kicked in the face and knocked out.

"Shit!" Brown shouted and pointed his gun at Catherine who wrestled with him for the wheel.

“Hey come on man! You wanna add reckless driving to your list of crimes?” She quipped and disarmed him before punching him in the face. Brown was out cold and Catherine tried to catch the steering wheel and maneuver the truck but the briefcase that fell with all the commotion pushed down the gas pedal and the truck came crashing to a fountain in the middle of the street.

Catherine was able to save herself with the airbag and she stumbled out of the van with just a few scratches. She then saw the people running away from the chaos and destruction while others were too scared to move from their spots. Police sirens suddenly filled the place and a team of agents and officers stepped out of their vehicles.

"Damn it Catherine, I thought I said don’t make such a mess! Colin will kill you." Bradley; a tall man with short blond hair wearing a bulletproof vest over his red polo shirt approached her and hit her on the head.

"Ow! Fuck you Bradley, I barely got out of that speeding van and you greet me with a hit on the head?! I swear I'll shoot you, you ass." Catherine glared.

"Oh shut up. Me and the others need to clean up every damage you did – again.” Bradley replied sourly.

"Both suspects are unconscious; we'll be taking them in." An officer then interrupted their banter and drove off while the others stayed and took photos of the damage that needed to be repaired.

"Come on slick. I wanna see your face once Colin finds out about all this." Bradley teased before ducking away to avoid a strong kick.

"Fifteen street stalls, one civilian motorcycle, one giant fountain and one six storey building." A tall man with short black hair glared at the pictures and then at the agent in front of him.

"Sorry..." Catherine whispered.

"I understand the stalls and the motor but the fountain and the building? Really?" Colin; Catherine and Bradley's boss, the head of SHIELD in New York said with a raised brow.

"Well, the building was old. And because of the shootout earlier, the collapse was unavoidable." Catherine replied while air quoting her last remark.

"Your improvisations always make the cleaners' works harder." Bradley sighed.

"Oh shut up. You're a cleaner for a reason." Catherine shot back.

"Knock it off. Catherine get some rest, but I need you in the main room after dinner. We need to discuss something." Colin said and Catherine nodded before leaving the room with Bradley.

Catherine Silverton is a reckless hot head who uses most of her gut feeling when dealing with unimaginable situations. She's not one to plan, she doesn’t like waiting around and she hates working long term with other people. But despite all this, she’s the best at what she does and no one has ever said otherwise.

For a twenty-three year old, she has accomplished missions that are harder than those given to her seniors. The thing about Catherine is that she comes up with plans on the fly and she loves to improvise. Whenever there are missions that trap her in a pinch, she sees the easiest way out and acts on it, what happens right after her actions will then determine her next move.

That is why most of the time, her missions always lead to a shootout or a car chase, but despite those do or die situations, Catherine always manages to get away and capture the bad guys.

She may not be much of a professional since she has no plans except for one and no backup plan right after, she still manages to finish a mission completely. Catherine's been working in SHIELD for four years and her plans aren't always full proof, but whatever tough situation she gets herself into, she can get out without thinking that much and just improvising her way through.

"Vegas?" Catherine asked once Colin debriefed her on her new mission.

"Yes. You will meet another agent and you will work together to accomplish this mission." Colin said and Catherine shook her head and stood up from her eat.

“No. No way. I do this mission alone, Colin.” She insisted but Colin gave her a look.

“This is a Class S mission, Catherine, we need to keep this on the down low since there would be panic and chaos if this situation ever gets out.” He replied and Catherine slammed her hands on the table.

“Then find someone else to do it. I’m not partnering with anyone, never again.” She grumbled and Colin sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Catherine, there is no one else. Everyone has their own missions and I need you on this.” He said and Catherine was silent. She then took a breath and snatched the documents from Colin’s hands.

“Fine. But this other agent better not piss me off or I’m gonna shoot him where he stands.”

 SHIELD; Las Vegas Base. 7 PM.

"Welcome. You must be Tom." Colin greeted as the agent walked in.

"Yes, pleasure to meet you Mr. Morgan." Tom replied and offered his hand to shake.

"Please, just Colin will be fine. I trust your flight was pleasant?” He asked and Tom nodded before taking a seat at a round glass table.

“Yes. I read the files on my way over here but Mr. Hunt said there was more that I needed to hear.” Tom replied and Colin gave him a quick nod.

“Yes. There’s a lot more about this mission that I’ll discuss once Catherine gets here.” He said.

“Agent Silverton.” Tom added when on cue, the automatic sliding doors opened and in walked Catherine who was followed by Bradley.

“Agent Holland, this is Agent Silverton.” Colin introduced and Tom stood up before offering his hand but Catherine gave him a look and just nodded and took a seat that was well away from him. Tom wondered why he was turned down so quickly but dismissed it and sat back down, he saw Colin sigh before turning towards the big screen inside the room.

“As you both know, we have called you here since you are the best agents in your respective agencies and we need your help in accomplishing this task." Colin started.

The screen flashed pictures of girls, about thirty of them and then followed by pictures of a man getting in a black van.

"We have received word that girls from different countries are missing. Parents are worried that when contacting their children, they get nothing from the hotels they are supposed to be staying in. We believe the girls have been abducted, for what purpose, we don’t know. That is until one of our agents who was previously on the job managed to pinpoint a location. He found out the girls were being sold for prostitution." He continued and the images changed to what looked like a tall building where the girls are in a line, surrounded by men with guns.

"Unfortunately, right after he had sent us the information. Our agent went MIA. We think he's been captured or he's been killed. We need to finish this monstrosity before it gets bigger and the situation, worse." Colin finished and the big screen turned off.

"So these girls… where were they last seen?" Tom asked.

"At the airport according to our agent. Specifically, the airport here. Our agent also managed to narrow down a bar where he believes the girls are taken." Colin answered. He then handed them both a picture of the bar.

"This guy in the van was the same guy our agent saw inside the building." He pointed out to another photograph.

"So, let me guess, we need to infiltrate the bar and see where the girls are and rescue them." Catherine said and Colin nodded.

“That seems simple enough. Why can’t you just send the cavalry on this guy?” Catherine asked and pointed at the man in the van.

“It’s not that simple. If they have the girls, who knows what they’ll do to them once they found out they’ve been compromised?” Colin replied.

“They could kill them, or hold them hostage, making it harder for us to rescue them.” Tom added and Colin nodded in response.

“I need you guys to be careful, find out where the girls are and call for back up once you’ve secured their location. But we need to this mission discreetly, we don’t want the public to panic.” Colin added and turned to Catherine.

“The hell are you looking at me for?” She snapped.

“There’s a reason.” Bradley grinned so Catherine punched him in the arm.

"Whatever. Let's get going, Mr. Holland, bars open at around this time right?" She said before standing up.

“Just Tom would be fine.” Tom said softly and stood up as well. "But we need to think of a plan first, like how do we get in without getting too much attention? How do we get the girls out? What if they're too many of them? There's only two of us. We should have a backup plan in case - ”

"We're gonna waste time if we plan now. How about we go to the bar, then you can plan while we watch the premises. It's a bar and casino, we can go in and out whenever we want to, this is Vegas." Catherine replied as-a-matter-of-factly and Tom just looked at her.

"Well? Are we going or not?” She asked getting impatient.

“Right. Yes." Tom replied still bewildered at how Catherine shot him down twice now.

"The car is downstairs. You can take it." Colin said and tossed the keys to Catherine.

“Gotcha. We’ll make contact when we’re there. Come on Mr. Planner.” Catherine grinned and left the room. Tom was glued to where he was but he shook his head and put his agent mode on before following the latter.

"It's been ten minutes since we started driving and you still haven't said anything." Tom then said as he and Catherine drove quickly towards the casino they're supposed to infiltrate.

"Should I be saying anything?" Catherine asked.

"Well no but you and I are gonna be stuck for quite a while with this mission so might as well get to know each other." Tom replied and Catherine turned the car to stop on the side of the street.

“Okay listen here, Tom.” She started with a glare and Tom actually felt a little intimidated.

“You and I are gonna get along just fine if you stop asking questions and just do your job as an agent. I don’t like working with other people but I have to grin and bear it because Colin asked me too. If you have a problem with that, take that up to him because I don’t have time to get to know you and I don’t want to either. Got it?” She said and when Tom was rendered speechless, she continued on to drive.

"We're here." Catherine said before stopping on the side of the road right across the casino.

“Anyone familiar?” Tom asked as they both looked at the people coming and going in the vicinity.

“No. I’m going in.” Catherine said and proceeded to take her seatbelt off but Tom stopped her.

"No, wait. Not until we see the guy they tracked down to this place. It'll be easier to follow him from then on." Tom replied and she was about to retaliate when she remembered what Colin said to her before leaving so she stayed put much to Tom’s surprise.

Thirty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of the guy the base has tracked down.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom finally said after moments of silence.

“What now?” Catherine asked.

“I’ve read before that people usually shut themselves out because of an experience they were traumatized with before, they refuse to let others in their lives and establish a relationship in fear that they will end up hurt by the same thing that has happened to them before.” Tom started.

“And your point is?” She replied and turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

“Uhm… I guess what I’m trying to say is we’re both working for the same cause here and you and I have to learn to trust each other if we’re going to make it work.” He replied which made Catherine chuckle.

“Trust? The only people that I trust are Colin and Bradley. You better be a damn saint before I even begin to trust you. But fine, since your annoying little self is persistent I’ll give you a chance.” She smirked and Tom smiled.

Just then, a black van stopped right in front of the casino and out came a man in a black leather jacket, jeans and combat boots.

"That’s him!" Catherine said before looking down at her phone to see the photo once again.

Tom and Catherine watched as the man opened the van, only to have girls in lingerie and masks pile out.

“Do you think those are the girls?" Tom asked and Catherine shrugged.

 “Really can’t tell with those masks their wearing.” She replied.

The man led the girls inside casino and Catherine knew she had to follow them quickly. She looked around and saw a stall that was selling masks, hats, shoes and different articles of clothing so she grinned and got out of the car much to Tom's surprise.

"Hey where are you going!?" Tom asked but Catherine was already at the stall. She bought a pair of heels and a black and white mask with feathers and glitters all over. She got back in the car and started to strip off her pants.

"WHAT… WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Tom turned bright red and proceeded to look away.

"Oh please, don’t flatter yourself." Catherine scoffed as she took off her pants and threw them at the back. She undid the first two buttons on her polo and removed her jacket before putting the mask and shoes on.

"Put this in your ear and I'll guide you once I get inside." Catherine said, shoved a small earpiece in Tom’s hand and opened the car door.

"Wait. WHAT?! GET BACK HERE!" Tom yelled after her but it was too late, Catherine already made her way to the line of girls and casually made her way inside.

"Fuck." Tom cursed as he helplessly watched the entrance of the casino close.

tagging: @silverofthunder I did it again... I wrote... Hahaha

[mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl]

NOW 2~G-Dragon Pt.8

Genre:Angst/SMUT

Rated:NSFW

Pairing: GD X Reader

wordcount:4,586

Masterlist

DISCLAIMER!:remember this is just an edit of an original book called after by anna todd i do not own this book!(choosen by popular demand but don’t worry bared to him will be up tomorrow!)

When I finally wake up, it’s two in the afternoon. I can’t remember the last time I slept past eleven, let alone later than lunch, but I forgive myself by taking into account that I stayed up until four reading and browsing through Jiyong’s wonderful gift. It is so thoughtful, too thoughtful, the best gift I’ve ever received.

Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I check my missed calls. Two from my mother, one from Tae. A few “Happy Birthday” messages clog my inbox, including one from Noah. I’ve never been that into birthdays, but I don’t exactly love the idea of being alone today either.

Well, I won’t be alone. Catherine Earnshaw and Elizabeth Bennet are much better company than my mother.

I order a crapload of Chinese food and stay in my pajamas the entire day. My mother is irate when I call her and tell her that I’m “sick.” I can tell that she doesn’t believe me, but honestly, I don’t care. It’s my birthday, and I can do whatever I choose to do, and if what I choose to do is lie in bed with takeout and my new toy, then that’s what I’ll do.

My fingers try to pull up Jiyong’s number a few times, but I stop them. No matter how wonderful his present was, he still slept with Chaerin. Whenever I think he couldn’t possibly hurt me worse, he does. I begin to think about my dinner with Trevor on Saturday. Trevor, who is so nice and so charming. He says what he means, and he gives me compliments. He doesn’t yell at me, or annoy me. He has never lied to me. I never have to guess what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling. He’s smart, educated, successful, and he volunteers at shelters on holidays. He’s so perfect, compared to Jiyong.

The problem is that I shouldn’t be comparing him to Jiyong . Trevor is a little boring, yes, and we don’t share the same passion for novels that Jiyong and I do, but we also don’t share a damaged past.

The most infuriating thing about Jiyongis that I actually love his personality, rudeness and all. He’s funny, witty, and can be so sweet when he wants to be. This gift is messing with my head—I need to remember what he has done to me. All the lies, the secrets, and most all the times he’s fucked Chaerin.

I text Tae back to thank him, and within seconds he responds asking for the address of my hotel. I want to tell him not to drive all the way here, but I also don’t want to spend the remainder of my day completely alone. I don’t get dressed, but I do slip on a bra under my shirt and read some more, waiting for Tae to arrive.

An hour later, he knocks at the door, and when I open it, his familiar, warm smile makes me smile in return and he pulls me into his arms.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N,” he says into my hair.

“Thank you,” I say and hug him tighter.

He lets me go and sits at the desk chair. “Do you feel any older?”

“No . . . well, yes. I feel like I’ve aged ten years in the last week.”

He gives me a small smile but doesn’t say anything.

“I ordered takeout—there’s plenty left if you want some,” I offer.

Turning, he grabs the white Styrofoam container and a plastic fork from the desk. “Thanks. So is this what you’re doing all day?” he teases.

“Sure is.” I laugh and sit cross-legged on the bed.

As he chews, Tae looks past me and raises a brow. “You got an e-reader? I thought you hated them.”

“Well . . . I did, but now I kind of love them.” I pick up the device and admire it. “Thousands of books right at my fingertips! What could be better?” I smile and tilt my head to the side.

“Well, nothing says happy birthday like buying yourself a gift,” he says with his mouth full of rice.

“Actually, Jiyong got it for me. He left it in my car.”

“Oh. That was nice of him,” he says with a peculiar tone.

“Yes, very. He even put all these wonderful novels on there and . . .” I stop myself.

“So what do you think about it?” he asks.

“It confuses me even more. He does these incredibly kind things sometimes, but he does the most hurtful things at the same time.”

He smiles and waggles the fork while he says, “Well, he does love you. Unfortunately, love doesn’t always go hand in hand with common sense.”

I sigh. “He doesn’t know what love is.” I start scrolling through the list of romantic novels, and note that common sense is not something usually seen in any of these stories.

“He came to talk to me yesterday,” he says, causing me to drop my gift onto the mattress.

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. It surprised me, too. He came looking for me, his dad, or even my mother,” he says, and I shake my head.

“Why?”

“To ask for help.”

Worry builds inside of me. “Help? With what? Is he okay?”

“Yeah . . . well, no. He asked for help with you. He was completely distraught, Y/N. I mean, he came to his father’s house, of all places.”

“What did he say?” I can’t picture Jiyong knocking on Ken’s door to ask for relationship advice.

“That he loves you. That he wants me to help him persuade you to give him another chance. I wanted you to know; I don’t want to keep things from you.”

“I . . . well . . . I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe he came to you. To anyone, really.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, he isn’t the same Kwon Jiyong that he was when I first met him. He even joked about hugging me.” He laughs.

I can’t help but join him. “He did not!” I don’t know how I feel about any of this, but that thought is definitely funny. When I stop laughing, I look at Taeyang and dare to ask, “Do you really believe that he loves me?”

“Yes, I do. I don’t know if I think you should forgive him, but if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that he does love you.”

“It’s just that he lied to me, made me a joke—even after he told me he loved me, he still went and told them all what happened between us. Then, as soon as I begin to think I could possibly consider trying to move past that, he sleeps with Chaerin.” Tears prick my eyes, and I grab the water bottle on the nightstand and take a drink in an attempt to distract myself.

“He didn’t sleep with her.”

I look over at him. “Yes, he did. He told me he did.”

Tae puts the food container down and shakes his head. “He just said that to hurt you. I know that’s not much better, but you two are both known to fight fire with fire.”

Looking at Tae, the first thing I think is that  Jiyong is good. He even has his stepbrother believing his lies. The second thing I think is: But what if Jiyong didn’t actually sleep with Chaerin? Absent that, could I move toward forgiving him? I had my mind made up that I never would, but I can’t seem to shake that boy.

As if the universe is mocking me, my phone lights up with a message from Trevor that says Happy Birthday, Beautiful.

I send him a quick thanks, then say to Tae, “I need more time. I don’t know what to think.”

He nods. “Fair enough, so what are you doing for Christmas?”

“This.” I gesture to the empty takeout box and e-reader.

He grabs the remote. “You aren’t going to go home?”

“This is more of a home than my mother’s house,” I say and try not to think about how pathetic I am.

“You can’t just stay in a hotel alone on Christmas, Y/N. You should come to our place. I think my mother got you a few things before . . . you know.”

“My life went down the drain?” I half laugh and he nods playfully.

“Actually, I was thinking that since Jiyongis leaving tomorrow, I would stay at the apartment . . . just until I get into the dorms, which hopefully will be before he returns. If not, then I can always come back to this lovely abode.” I can’t help but joke about how ridiculous of a situation I’m in right now.

“Yeah . . . you should do that,” Tae says with his eyes focused on the television.

“You think? What if he shows up or something?”

He still doesn’t take his eyes from the screen but agrees. “He’ll be in Jeju, right?”

“Yeah. You’re right. My name is on the lease, after all.”

Tae and I watch television and talk about Dakota leaving for New York. He’s considering transferring to NYU next year if she decides to stay out there. I’m happy for him, but I don’t want him to leave Washington—not that I tell him that, of course. Taeyang stays until nine, and after he leaves I curl onto the bed and read until I fall asleep.

THE NEXT MORNING I get ready for my return to the apartment. I can’t believe I’m actually going back there, but I don’t have many options. I don’t want to take advantage of Taeyang, I definitely don’t want to go to my mother’s, and I’ll run out of money if I stay here. I feel guilty for not going to my mother’s, but I don’t want to listen to her snide comments all week. I still may go there for Christmas, but not today. I have five days to decide.

Once my hair is curled and my makeup is done, I put on a long-sleeved white shirt and dark jeans. I want to stay in my pajamas, but I need to go to the store to get some food for the next few days. If I eat whatever food Jiyong has in the apartment, he’ll know I was there. I pack my few belongings in my bags and hurry to my car, which, to my surprise, has been vacuumed and smells faintly of mint. Jiyong.

It starts to snow as I make my way to the grocery store. I buy enough food to last me until I decide what I want to do on Christmas. As I wait in line to check out, my mind wanders to what Jiyong would have gotten me for Christmas. My birthday gift was so thoughtful, who knows what he’d have came up with. I hope it would be something simple, not expensive.

“Are you going to move up?” a woman’s voice barks from behind me.

When I look up, the cashier is waiting impatiently with a scowl on her face. I didn’t notice the line moving or disappearing in front of me.

“Sorry,” I mumble, placing my groceries on the belt.

My heart begins to race as I pull into the parking lot of the apartment. What if he hasn’t left yet? It’s only noon. I look frantically around the lot, and his car is gone. He probably drove himself to the airport and left his car there.

Or  Chaerin drove him.

My subconscious doesn’t know when to shut up. Once I determine that he isn’t here, I park and grab the groceries. The snow is coming down harder and covers the cars around me in a thin layer. At least I’ll be in the warm apartment soon. When I reach the door, I take one last breath before unlocking the door and stepping inside. I really love this place—it’s so perfect for us . . . for him . . . or me, separately.

When I open the cabinets and fridge, I’m surprised to find them stocked full of food. Jiyong must have gone shopping in the last few days. I shove the food that I bought wherever it will fit and head back down to get my belongings.

I can’t stop thinking about what Taeyang said. I’m floored by the fact that Jiyong would go to anyone for advice, and that Taeyang professed to think Jiyong loves me—a fact that I’ve known but buried and locked away for fear it would give me hope. If I allow myself to admit that he loves me, it will only make all of this worse.

As soon as I get back into the apartment, I lock the door and put my bags in the room. I take out most of my clothes and hang them up so they won’t be too wrinkled, but using the closet that was intended for Jiyong and me only makes the knife inside of me twist once again. He only has a few pairs of black jeans hung up on the left side. I have to force myself not to hang up his T-shirts, they are always slightly wrinkled, although somehow he still manages to look perfect. My eyes travel to the black dress shirt hanging sloppily in the corner, the shirt he wore to the wedding. I hastily finish my task and walk away from the closet.

I make myself some macaroni on the stove and turn on the television. I turn the volume up so that I can hear an old episode of Friends that I have seen at least twenty times, and go into the kitchen. I speak along with the characters as I load the dishwasher; I hope Jiyong hasn’t noticed, but I can’t stand to have dishes in the sink. I light a candle and wipe off the counters. Before I know it, I’m sweeping the floor, vacuuming the couch, and making the bed. Once the entire apartment is clean, I do a load of my laundry and fold the clothes Jiyong had left in the dryer. Today is actually the most peaceful and calm day that I’ve had in the last week. That is, until I hear a set of voices and watch in slow motion as the lock turns.

Shit. He’s here, again. Why does he always show up at the apartment when I’m there! Hopefully it’s just that he gave an extra key to one of his friends to check on the place . . . Maybe it’s Seungri with a girl? Anyone but Jiyong —please, let it be anyone but Jiyong.

A woman I’ve never seen before steps through the doorway, but I somehow instantly know who she is. The similarities are undeniable, and she is beautiful.

“Wow, Jiyong , this flat is beautiful,” she says, her accent just as thick as her son’s.

This. Is. Not. Happening. I’m going to look like a complete psychopath in front of Jiyong’s mom—with my food in the cabinets, my clothes in the washer, and the entire apartment cleaned from top to bottom. I stand completely frozen and panicked as she looks up at me.

“Oh, my goodness! You must be Y/N!” She smiles and rushes over to me.

As Jiyong steps through the doorway, he cocks his head to the side and drops her floral-print luggage from his hands. The surprise on his face is beyond evident. I tear my eyes from him and focus on the woman coming toward me with open arms.

“I was so disappointed when Jiyong said you’d be out of town this week!” she gushes and wraps her arms around me. “What a cheeky boy, fibbing just to try and surprise me!”

What?

She puts her hands on my shoulders and pulls me to look at her. “Oh, you are so lovely, look at you!” She squeals and hugs me again.

I stay silent and hug her once more. Jiyong looks terrified and extremely caught off guard.

Join the club.

Chapter twenty-three

Y/N

As his mother hugs me for the fourth time, Jiyong finally mumbles, “Mum, let’s give her a little space. She’s a bit shy.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just so happy to finally meet you. Jiyong has told me so much about you,” she says warmly. I feel my cheeks flame as she steps back and nods in acknowledgment. I’m surprised she even knows that I exist—I would have figured he would have kept me a secret, as usual.

“It’s okay,” I manage to say through my horror.

Mrs. Daniels smiles brightly and looks over at her son, who says, “Mum, why don’t you grab a drink of water in the kitchen for a minute?” When she leaves, Jiyong comes over to me with gentle movements. “Can . . . I, um . . . talk to you in the bedroom for a mo-moment?” he stammers.

I nod and glance toward the kitchen before following him into the bedroom that we once shared.

“What the hell?” I say quietly as I close the door.

Jiyong winces and sits on the bed. “I know . . . I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell her what happened. I couldn’t tell her what I did.

“Are you here . . . you know, to stay?” His voice holds more hope than I can bear.

“No . . .”

“Oh.”

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair, a habit I picked up from Jiyong, I suspect. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” I ask him.

“I don’t know . . .” he says with a long sigh. “I don’t expect you to go along with it or anything . . . I just need a little time to tell her.”

“I didn’t know you would be here either, I thought you were going to Jeji.”

“I changed my mind, I didn’t want to go without . . .” He trails off, and pain is evident in his eyes.

“Is there a reason why you didn’t tell her that we aren’t together?” I don’t know if I want to hear his answer.

“She was just so happy that I found someone . . . I don’t want to ruin that for her.”

I recall Ken telling me that he never thought Jiyong was capable of being in a relationship, and he was right. However, I do not want to ruin Jiyong’s mother’s time here. I certainly don’t say what I say next for his sake: “Okay. You can tell her whenever you are ready. Just don’t tell her about the bet.” I look down, thinking that his mom knowing the details of how her son ruined his first and only love would surely hurt her.

“Really? You’re okay with her thinking we’re together?” He sounds more surprised than he should be. When I nod, he lets out a deep breath. “Thank you. I thought for sure you’d call me out right in front of her.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I say and mean it. No matter how angry I have ever been at Jiyong , I wouldn’t damage his relationship with his mother. “I’ll just finish my laundry, then go. I thought you weren’t going to be here, so I figured I’d stay here instead of that motel.” I shrug uncomfortably. We’ve been in the bedroom a little too long.

“You don’t have anywhere to go?”

“I could go to my mother’s. I just really don’t want to,” I admit. “The motel isn’t bad, just a little expensive.” This is the most civil conversation Jiyong and I have had in the past week.

“I know you won’t agree to stay here, but I could give you some money?” I can tell he’s afraid of my reaction to his offer.

“I don’t need your money.”

“I know, I just thought I would offer.” He stares at floor.

“We better go back out there.” I sigh and open the door.

“I’ll be out in a second,” he says softly.

I don’t like the idea of going out there to face his mother alone, but I can’t stay in the small space of this bedroom with Jiyong . I take a deep breath and leave the room.

When I enter the kitchen, she looks over at me from where she stands at the sink. “He isn’t upset with me, is he? I didn’t mean to crowd you.” Her voice is so sweet. A total contrast to her son’s.

“Oh no, of course not. He was just . . . going over a few things about this week,” I lie. I have always been a terrible liar, so I usually avoid it at all costs.

“Okay, good. I know how moody he can be.” She smiles with such warmth that I can’t help but smile back.

I pour my own glass of water to calm my nerves, and she begins to speak as I take a sip. “I still can’t wrap my head around how beautiful you are. He told me you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but I thought he was exaggerating.”

Less gracefully than the most beautiful girl a boy’s ever seen would do, I spit my water back into my glass. Jiyong said what? I want to ask her to verify that, but instead I just take another sip of water to mask my embarrassing reaction.

She laughs. “Honestly, I thought you would be covered in tattoos and have green hair or something.”

“No, no tattoos for me. Or green hair.” I laugh and feel my shoulders begin to relax.

“You’re an English major like Jiyong , right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Call me Trish.”

“I actually have an internship at Vance Publishing, so my class schedule is kind of weird. And right now we’re on break.”

“Vance? As in Christian Vance?” she asks. I nod. “Oh, I haven’t seen Christian in at least . . . ten years.” She looks down at the glass of water in my hands. “ Jiyong and I actually lived with him for a year after Ken . . . Well, never mind, Jiyong doesn’t like when I spout off at the mouth.” She chuckles nervously.

I didn’t know that Jiyong and his mother stayed with Mr. Vance, but I knew that he was very close with him, closer than he would be if Christian were only his father’s friend.

“I know about Ken,” I say to Trish in an attempt to ease her discomfort, but then I immediately worry that I’ve implied I know about what happened to her, and I worry I’ve upset her.

So when she replies, “You do?” I try to hedge a little and follow up with, “Yeah, Jiyong has told me . . .”

But when Jiyong appears in the kitchen I stop, and I have to admit I’m happy for the intrusion.

He raises a brow. “ Jiyong has told you what?”

My tension goes through the roof, but to my surprise, his mother covers, saying, “Nothing, son, just some girl talk,” and walking over to him and wrapping her arm around his waist. He pulls away slightly, as if out of instinct. She frowns, but I get the feeling this is a normal interaction between them.

The dryer beeps, and I take that as my cue to exit the room and finish up my laundry so I can get out of here, fast.

I pull my warm clothes from the dryer and sit on the floor in the small laundry room to fold them. Jiyong’s mother is so sweet, and I find myself wishing that I could have met her under different circumstances. I don’t feel anger toward Jiyong; I have been angry long enough. I feel sadness, and a longing for what we could have been.

After I’m done with my clothes, I go to the bedroom to repack my bags. I wish I hadn’t hung any clothes in the closet or put food in the kitchen.

“Do you need some help, dear?” Trish asks me.

“Um, I was just getting my things ready to go to my mother’s for the week,” I reply, figuring I might as well just go there since the motel is expensive.

“You’re leaving today? Right now?” She frowns.

“Yeah . . . I told her I would come for Christmas.” For once I want Jiyong to come into the room to help me talk my way out of this.

“Oh, I was hoping you would stay at least a night. Who knows when I’ll be able to see you again—and I would love to get to know the young woman who my son has fallen in love with.”

And suddenly something in me wants to make this woman happy. I don’t know if it’s because of my mistake about saying I knew about Ken and her, or because of the way she covered for me in front of Jiyong . But I do know I don’t want to overthink this, so I silence my inner voice and just nod, and say, “Okay.”

“Really? You’ll stay? Just one night, then you can go to your mum’s house. You don’t want to be driving through that snow anyway.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me for the fifth time today.

At least she’ll be here to be a buffer between Jiyong and me. We can’t fight if she’s here. Well, I won’t fight, at least. I know this is probably . . . certainly the worst idea, but Trish is hard to say no to. Just like her son.

“Well, I’m going to take a quick shower. I had a long flight!” She smiles broadly and heads out.

I sink down onto the bed and close my eyes. This is going to be the most awkward, painful twenty-four hours of my life. No matter what I do, I always seem to end up back where I started, with him.

After a few minutes I open my eyes to find Jiyong standing in front of the closet with his back to me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says when he turns back around. I sit up. He is being so strange, apologizing every other word. “I see that you cleaned the apartment,” he says softly.

“Yeah . . . I couldn’t help it.” I smile, and so does he. “ Jiyong , I told your mom that I would stay tonight. Only tonight, but if that’s not okay, I’ll go. I just felt bad because she’s so nice, and I couldn’t say no, but if that makes you uncomfor—”

“Y/N, it’s fine,” he says quickly, but then his voice shakes when he adds, “I want you to stay.”

I don’t know what to say, and I don’t understand this strange turn of events. I want to thank him for the present, but there is just too much going on inside of my head.

“Did you have a nice birthday yesterday?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah. Tae came by.”

“Oh . . .” But then we hear his mother in the living room, and he moves to go. He stops before walking through the door and turns to me. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”

I sigh. “Me either.”

At that, he nods, and we both get up to join his mother in the other room.

a/n Thoughts???

[hollywoodx4]

Sticking with the Schuylers (30)

I’m back-I’m devestated-I’m already planning another weekend in NYC because I can’t handle the thought of being away so long I loved it so deeply. So now I get to play catch-up on everything I missed while I was away (and re-send an email meant for my professor I’ve only just now realized I sent to myself instead...) I’m a mess.

( @ellzabethschuyler hi, here’s your tag!)

In this part, Alexander finally has his first brunch.

1  2  3  4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   I   13  14   15   16   17   18A  18B   18C  I   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   261  2  3  4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11 12   I   13  14   15   16   17   18A  18B   18C  I   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27  28   29   I 

The clear and most definite difference between Alexander and Eliza lives not within their social status, or their upbringings. After a little over a week of living together, there were plenty of things that had become more in focus as they had come up.

               Alexander stays up incredibly late; so late that there are mornings Eliza sees the first pinks of dawn seeping through the curtains when he finally stumbles to bed. She rolls over, drowsy, and lowers her sleepless eyes at him in quiet concern.

               “It’s almost morning.”

               “I know.”

               “You look exhausted.”

               “I love you.” He pacifies her with sweet and sleepy words, adjusting his position so that she can rest against him.

               Eliza wakes early.

               Before the rest of the world, before the sun, she rolls out of bed to turn on a singer/songwriter and brew a fresh pot of coffee. There are people who wake at the first breaths of dawn without a care in the world, throwing back the shades with a grin. There has never been a truer definition of “morning person” than waking up to Eliza Schuyler singing.

               He needs at least six cups of coffee to make it to noon fully-functioning. She fills up the biggest water bottle he’s ever seen to tote around all day. And then she’s filling it up repeatedly, asking him to sip from it as she pushes his coffee aside. He doesn’t mind; not when her requests come with wide, blinking eyes and soft smiles.

               Alexander can talk for hours on end, voice rapid and fervent, when presented with a topic to debate. He is skillful in backing himself up, without a single pause or pressure in his endeavor. She had struggled through her public speaking class, finding more comfort in working a room of people. A party, a gala, a crowded coffee shop…a more natural setting always suited her glowing optimism much better. Eliza had always loved people; there are so many stories, so many lives that go on without recognition. And sitting, listening to those stories-she likes to think that she is taking a part of somebody else’s history, no matter how ‘insignificant.’  Where Alexander excels in speech Eliza does in active communication. The value of her open mind and willingness to see the (many) points he has to make does not go unnoticed. In a sense they pair as the perfect yin and yang, each strength a support for a weakness.

               Within that notion Alexander sees much more than the give-and-take of their relationship. A piece of his mind-typically riddled by a bombardment of dishonest embarrassment and a horrifying self-doubt-finds an uncertain solace in just how well she knows him. She exhibits an innate skill of ‘reading the room,’ which he defines as a frightening ability to know everybody’s genuine emotions.

               Which brings them to this day; the car ride to the Schuyler mansion had been filled with a fog of anxiety, rolling through his body in waves of severity. He’d suck in a breath. She’d chat about their surroundings. He’d crack his knuckles. She’d hold his hand. And in every action from Eliza came an immediate wave of relief, spilling over Alexander and pacifying him once more.

               Until they pull up to the gates-looking upon the sprawling wrought iron and old masonry leading into the neighborhood sets him off once more. His foot taps the entire way, hands fidgeting in her hold as they enter the house. She calls her greeting and two unfamiliar faces come to meet them, both embracing her before stepping back to run their eyes along him.

               “He’s cute.” The first, an older woman with ash blonde hair, winks through an accent hovering between French and Swiss descent. Eliza laughs, light and airy as her shining eyes meet Alexander as well.

               “This is Laurie, our wonderful chef. She taught me everything I know.”

               Alexander moves forward to shake her hand, letting out a nervous chuckle.

               “Well then I have to thank you-I can’t cook to save my life, Eliza is my savior.”

               “Well, aren’t you a charmer? Isn’t he, Elena?”

               “Of course.” The words of the older woman are less certain in translating her dialect, and when she shakes his hand hers are work-worn and rough. “I’m Elena.”

               “Elena tends the gardens and was basically our best friend growing up.” The woman’s eyes close in the delight of a memory, wrinkles prominent at their corners only making her appear happier, brighter.

               “I always loved having my girls running around in the yard. Oh, I have the best pictures,”

               “We’re fine.” Eliza interrupts, pulling on Alexander’s hand with haste. “I have to get ready before we’re late, and,”

               “-Wait a minute, you expect me to walk away from the promise of seeing your baby pictures?” He smirks at Eliza and her heart flips in her stomach, reconsidering. The way his eyes seem to carry his smile-she recognizes the tactic instantly. It’s a magnetic pull he’s used often, the knowledge of her weakness often used for one last kiss-pizza instead of Chinese. She shakes her head, raising an eyebrow at him before tugging on his hand.

               “Nice try, Hamilton. Not going to work today. Come on, everyone’s waiting for us upstairs.”

               He follows reluctantly, taking in his surroundings with a sinking sort of wonderment. The long, curved staircase leading to the bedrooms is lined with professional family photos in ornate and matching frames, a set for each year. As they progress further up the stairs the sisters get younger in age until they’ve reached the landing. There Eliza feels a pull on her hand as Alexander stops, eyes trained on a specific frame.

               It’s one of the first photos of their complete family; Peggy is just an infant, head blanketed with soft peach fuzz. The three sisters lay underneath thick white covers, snuggled close. Angelica is on the left, wild hair splayed out around her as she looks up at the camera with a cheeky, lost-tooth grin. A sleepy Peggy is in the middle, miniscule in comparison to six year old Angelica.

               “That’s the only moment Peggy has ever been quiet in her entire life. I’m so glad they got it on camera.” Eliza jokes, drawing him away from the picture again. He won’t budge, stuck still and staring at the photograph. The deep brown of his eyes has melted into a smooth chocolate color, emanating a wonder no longer accompanied by anxiety.

               “You were such a cute kid.” He admits it quietly, sheepishly, through slightly reddened cheeks. Alexander’s eyes will not leave her in this photo, where her moon-shaped face has ruddy toddler cheeks and large doe eyes. Her soft brown locks are cut with bangs and dressed in pigtails that end in ringlet curls. Toddler Eliza’s head is turned, attention trained on her infant sister as she presses a sweet kiss onto her forehead. Alexander’s heart has pulled and warmed with a sort of hopeful anticipation that sets his imagination rampant.

               “I was a pretty good kid, too-after I got past the lack of stranger danger in toddlerhood.” Eliza rolls her eyes. He chuckles at this, a picture of the moment in his mind. “Yeah, imagine pulling a chipper little two year-old through the city as she says hi to everyone that passes.

               “Oh god.”

               “Yupp. That was my parents’ nightmare period. Fun, right?”

               Through the thousands of possibilities-dreams-that float through his mind Alexander says nothing, simply nodding as she leads him to Angelica’s room.

               Everybody else is already there when they enter the room, the girls getting to work while John pats the space next to him on Angelica’s bed. Alexander sits. He is thankful for the company; although John Church is quiet his words are insightful when he speaks, especially when he begins his run-down of a typical brunch. He offers his help, which Alex gratefully accepts, and their subdued level of conversation continues through the morning.

               He is silent again on the way to brunch, as if a switch has been hit. His certainty is crossed by the rolling of the nerves in his stomach. Peggy chats incessantly. She is a welcome distraction, and Alex finds himself immersed in her high school drama as her voice inflects wildly, Peggy waving her arms and scrunching her face as the stories progress. She continues the entire ride there. Eliza’s hand keeps him grounded.

               Eliza Schuyler is an infectious human being. When she enters the long brunch hall Alexander can practically feel the collective sigh that travels through the room. It is no different from each moment he is reunited with her; she carries an air of optimism that translates from herself to each person she sees. As they greet her they immediately mirror her smile. It is impossible not to-she is infectious.

               He attempts to keep up with the names and occupations of the crowd but the bombardment of information is a shock. When he begins to stumble over his words, or hide his hands to crack his knuckles, Eliza pulls him away.

               “You’re doing great.” She coaxes, hands settled just below his elbows as she holds him steady. He draws in a calm confidence from her each time, Eliza only continuing to mingle when she notices he’s settled down.

               Catherine Schuyler is the first to see them, she and Phillip having arrived later than usual from a morning meeting. They are handed drinks as she holds his arm, her husband leading her through the crowd with his usual, quieted sort of confidence. She keeps an eye on Eliza and her boyfriend, not yet wanting to bring the couple to her husband’s knowledge. Instead she observes, trailing them around the room. Eliza is glowing, cheeks lifted and eyes shining. Both hands hold the arm of a lanky man with hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His stance is weak, unsure; until her middle daughter turns to him.

               When Catherine sees Eliza smile at her boyfriend she lets out a subconscious breath of air. She illuminates a warmth toward him that her mother immediately picks out, even from the other side of the banquet room. And he looks back upon Eliza with an unfiltered, dreamy sort of glance. He is hinged on her every word. Once she runs a hand along his arm, soothing him so instantly and completely that Catherine feels herself breathing a sigh of relief along with him. It is then that she calls for her husband’s attention, gesturing toward the pair. Phillip turns to them with an unchanged expression; silent, judging.

               “Look, Phillip.” Catherine’s voice is nearly breathless with the newfound happiness that accompanies it. “I was him, once. Remember when you had to guide me through these events like that? Do you see how he looks at her?”

               Her husband remains silent. Instead, he guides Catherine across the room, toward their middle daughter, calling her name when the distance between them has closed. Eliza spins around, squeezing Alexander’s arm before her features light with joy-and a bit of well-hidden nerves.

               “Mom, dad…this,” She prods him forward a bit, grinning and keeping a firm hold on his arm. “Is Alexander.”

               The beginnings of an anxiety-ridden lump form in his throat, and he clears them away with a bit of effort before holding out his hand. Firm handshake. Smile. Don’t lose your words.

               “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

               “You as well. I’m glad there’s finally a voice behind all of this media controversy.”

               “Dad!”

               “Don’t mind him, Phillip is always a bit slow to warm. I’m Catherine.”

               “Thank you-for meeting me, I mean.”

               “It’s never a problem. You’re welcome at brunch any time you’d like.”

               “Hold on, Catherine.” Phillip chimes in with a more stern tone of voice, eyeing the couple with a level of swift judgement coursing through his prim posture. “What’s your full name?”

               “Alexander Hamilton, sir.”

               “And where are you from?”

               “Nevis.” Eliza holds a soft pressure on his arm. He feels a renewed sense of confidence- warmth-as he maintains direct eye contact with her father. “I immigrated to New York when I was seventeen.”

               “Your parents?”

               “My mother passed when I was twelve. My father left us years before. We were going through too much for him to handle, I guess.”

               “Alex is a writer-he wrote an essay that inspired his entire town to send him here.” Eliza beams as she looks over at him, pride written in her upturned lips and another squeeze of his arm. Her eyes flip back and forth between him and her father, as if keeping them hinged between her honeyed gaze would help Phillip to accept him-to accept them.

               “Really?” Phillip’s head lowers-just slightly-in an appreciative nod. “And is writing what you came here to pursue?”

               “Actually, I’m a law student. That’s how we met-I’m in one of Angelica’s classes, she introduced us.”

               “Law is an honorable career; difficult.”

               “I find it very compelling. For me, I guess it’s always been about fighting for those who can’t.” Another smile-slight-from Phillip. Eliza is practically turning Alexander’s arm white from the hold she has on him, excitement translated through the continued squeeze of his arm.

               “Any career choices in the future?”

               “I’m actually interning at a firm downtown-even pay, a foot in the door, you know? I also freelance once in a while-for the news, websites…whatever there is, I’ll write it.”

               Eliza’s eyes widen as her father hums, nodding his head. She anticipates what he is about to say before he opens his mouth. By the time the words leave his lips she is practically jumping.

               She just barely notices the crowd that has made their way around them. They are not obvious, like a paparazzi would be, but they are there. The old doctors and their socialite wives, the few journalists welcome to these events…they hover around the conversation with curious eyes pretending to roam as their ears are trained on her father-on Alexander. Eliza can feel their eyes on her, the way they seem to shoot judgement and question through the air without muttering a single word her way. She leans on Alexander’s arm, runs a thumb along the back of his hand. She settles herself into him in a way that tells them their suspicions are correct. She refuses to let them speculate.

               Phillip has noticed the crowd as well, shifting the tone of his voice to match a more private level of conversation as he glares along them with disdain. He finds a great amount of distaste in the unprecedented amount of attention his daughters’ personal lives have drawn.

               “Impressive…an immigrant making new roots in America.”

               “Yes, sir.”

               “Well, you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished then, Alexander.”

               “Thank you, sir.”

               “But let it be known,” Her father’s voice grows low and intense, aimed at Alex with careful precision. “If you hurt my daughter I have my connections. I could end your career in a New York minute, young man.”

               “Phillip,”

               “My trust has to be earned, Catherine. Alex….treat her with respect.”

               “I could never hurt her, sir. Eliza…she’s my happiness. She’s everything to me. I-I would really like to earn your trust.”

               “Well, then.” Phillip lets the ghost of a smile play on his lips-just enough to show the small shadow of approval he holds. Eliza is beaming. “I expect nothing less.”

[entergamingxp]

Full Body On Switch Is A Solid Port Of A Bizarre Game

July 3, 2020 9:00 AM EST

Atlus’ romantic cult-classic puzzle game is right at home on Nintendo’s console/handheld hybrid.

The Switch port of Catherine: Full Body is pretty straightforward.

It’s the same updated and remixed version of Atlus’ cult classic puzzle game that released last year for the PlayStation 4, but this time packed in with all of its DLC and a few minor extras exclusive (for now) to the Switch.

For the most part, the game looks on par with its PS4 counterpart, and is right at home on Nintendo’s console/handheld hybrid. On top of that, the added portability is a really nice feature to have 1) because the game’s multiplayer and competitive scene could stand to benefit greatly from it, and 2) if we’re being honest here, handheld mode will save you some awkward conversations if you have family in the house.

The TL;DR before getting into the details: Catherine: Full Body’s Nintendo Switch version is a solid port and a perfectly viable way to play one of the more bizarre games of the past decade.

For the uninitiated, or even those that need a refresher, Catherine was originally released in 2011 for the PS3 and Xbox 360, and was developed by Atlus’ internal P-Studio, the team in charge of the now very popular Persona series.

The game was…weird.

First and foremost, Catherine was a puzzle game, a departure from the turn-based RPGs the team, and Atlus as a whole, had become known for. It was also a game that tackled some pretty mature subject matter, presenting a story about romance and relationships that asked its protagonist, and by extension the player, what they ultimately wanted out of life and a partner.

It was out there, touching on themes that video games don’t often explore, definitely not in a way as head on as this one. And while it didn’t navigate everything perfectly, Catherine offered a pretty unique experience, one that had the charm, wit, and thoughtfulness to leave a lasting impression on many who played it.

Eight years later, and with a new team at Studio Zero (composed of Catherine and Persona 3-5’s director Katsura Hashino and other series veterans) at the helm, Full Body came along and expanded on all of that.

You play as Vincent Brooks, an indecisive 32-year old at a major crossroads. After so many years in a steady relationship, and beginning to feel pressure from family and friends, his girlfriend, Katherine, wants to take the next step as a couple. At the same time, another woman, Catherine (coincidentally enough), suddenly comes into his life, leading to an inciting incident that forces Vincent to decide who he truly wants to be with.

Though the original game’s story remains largely intact, Full Body presents another option for Vincent, a mysterious but overwhelmingly supportive amnesiac named Rin, who is worked into the pre-existing plot right from the outset and fits into it all pretty naturally despite not being there the first time around.

Each of the three romance options have their own distinct personality, and represent contrasting sets of values and ideals within Vincent’s mind. Katherine, driven and authoritative, represents order. And Catherine, spontaneous and outgoing, represents freedom. Rin, meanwhile, with an endlessly encouraging and accepting spirit, creates a different, more open-minded path that doesn’t fit into any particular mold.

Like the original, Catherine: Full Body is a game of two halves. The Stray Sheep is one side of the coin, a bar that Vincent visits nightly where you can drink, talk to regulars, answer texts and calls, maybe learn a tidbit or two of trivia, and even try your hand at a dusty old arcade machine.

The bulk of Vincent’s interactions here help form the direction of the story and where he’s ultimately headed. Lending an ear to one of Vincent’s friends or a stranger presents increasing opportunities to learn more about them, and you can make choices in dialogue that shape Vincent’s character and could potentially help guide those around him through their own circumstances. Likewise, how you approach texts and calls from either of Katherine, Catherine, or Rin factors into who he grows loyal to.

Time spent at the Stray Sheep might sound familiar to anyone who has played any of the recent mainline Persona games (i.e. 3-5), and that’s because it largely is a streamlined version of the series’ social link/confidant mechanic. But whereas Persona has a meter representative of a relationship’s strength for each character that fills up with the more time spent with them, Catherine has one internal meter for Vincent that can sway toward freedom or order (or stay straight in the middle) based on your decisions.

The other side, and Catherine’s core gameplay, is the nightmare world. When Vincent goes to sleep each night, he and other men he comes into contact with are taken into the same recurring dream, where they all appear as sheep to one another within the same tower and are given the same ultimatum: reach the top or die.

To stay alive, Vincent must push, pull, stack, drop, and climb up a series of blocks to reach each night’s summit, all while the ground he stands on continually falls out from under him. It’s a simple hook at face value, but one that can get incredibly deep.

Every night serves at its own stage, with each presenting new types of blocks, obstacles, and layouts to deal with. That said, you’re also shown at least a couple new climbing techniques to utilize per night; ones that will help you not only conquer those challenges, but also make you a more efficient climber.

Each stage consists of several floors to ascend, with the final floor always leaving you to escape a boss that is the physical manifestation of Vincent’s fears. Each looks like they walked straight out of a horror game and into this one.

You can get by on quick thinking and improvising, but the game will reward you for remembering all the techniques and figuring out when and where to pull them out. However, it does expect you to remember at least some of them, especially in the later stages and the higher the difficulty. Otherwise, you’ll be in for a whole lot of trial and error the first and even second time through the latter half of the game.

Practice makes perfect when it comes to climbing in Catherine, and that experience doesn’t go to waste once the credits roll.

More challenges await in the game’s additional modes. Babel, for instance, offers several extra semi-randomly generated stages (of varying difficulty) to climb either alone or with a friend.

You can also test your skills against other players in the game’s head-to-head Colosseum, a local multiplayer mode that spawned a dedicated competitive scene when the original released and was strengthened by Full Body finally taking it online. And now thanks to being on the Switch, Catherine’s multiplayer can be played pretty much anywhere with anyone using the split Joy Cons (though that’s far from a recommended control scheme) or wireless LAN connectivity between two systems.

Plus, because all of Full Body’s DLC is included, you can play these modes using anyone from the main cast or even Persona 5’s Joker, with every character having their own commentary call outs (Joker in particular gets the rest of the Phantom Thieves cheering him on).

The DLC also contains various voices for Catherine that can be swapped out at any time in the story should you want to play it with Japanese audio (the Switch version comes with three extra voiceover options from Japan’s Persona series VAs) and a pair of glasses that Vincent can put on that…uh…yeah…

Catherine: Full Body on the Switch is a complete port of a strange but worthwhile game, and stands to reach even more people now that it’s on another rapidly growing platform.

Before wrapping up, I’d be remiss if I wrote about the Switch port of Catherine: Full Body and didn’t go over how encouraging it is that it even exists, even if it’s only slight.

Atlus might be the most stubborn third-party company in video games when it comes to bringing its titles to other platforms. The Persona series is more popular than it has ever been, but most of its older entries have been left behind on obsolete systems, and Persona 5 has been kept exclusive to the PlayStation 4. Shin Megami Tensei of late has been exclusive to Nintendo. In fact, a lot of Atlus’ games in the past decade have been kept to either PlayStation or Nintendo and nothing else, despite fan outcry.

But last year Sega (Atlus’ parent company) pushed to release the original Catherine on PC, Persona 4 Golden just came to Steam after being trapped on the nearly forgotten PlayStation Vita for years — Atlus themselves even ported it over — and now Catherine: Full Body has an additional home on the Switch.

These releases aren’t surefire proof just yet that Atlus is fully embracing other platforms, but an optimist would say they’re all good signs.

And Full Body runs on Persona 5’s engine, just saying.

July 3, 2020 9:00 AM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/07/full-body-on-switch-is-a-solid-port-of-a-bizarre-game/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=full-body-on-switch-is-a-solid-port-of-a-bizarre-game