#ive got quite a few ideas for this but i haven’t committed to writing it

[wolfsbanesparks]

i just cant choose correctly, can i?

into the light?

Don't worry it's hard to keep track of what's all been asked about (and Boys Night was a surprisingly popular pick!)

So Into the Light would be the direct sequel to my first ever fic From the Shadows (my Billy gets adopted by the batfam AU)

Now I don't typically write sequels because I want my stories to feel complete without them, but I'm always open to the possibility that with the right motivation/inspiration a sequel can be fun to write.

(Also From the Shadows and Into the Light just sounds so cool as a duology)

So the plot would pick up almost immediately after From the Shadows as Billy and the batfam try to deal with the repercussions of what happened. Billy and Bruce in particular have to learn how to deal with balancing their new dynamic as both father and son as well as long term coworkers.

The JL is surprised and confused by the sudden shift in the relationship between Captain Marvel and Batman. Bruce wants Billy to tell them who he is but Billy is advantage that it remains a family secret.

Billy as the new wizard Shazam has to deal with brand new responsibilities around the Rock of Eternity and the magical community as well as establishing a new normal that includes being Captain Marvel, going to a new private school, and reconnecting with friends back in Fawcett City.

In the midst of all of this Lady Blaze and Lord Satanus are furious that Billy has taken what they consider their birthright as Shazam's children and are seeking to destroy Billy and his new family so they can reclaim their father's powers for themselves.

I think there's a lot of fun places a sequel could go in that particular au, and writing one could be a chance to address some of the things I wished I done in the first one (namely focus more on Billy’s connection to Fawcett City and the people there as it's hero)

I don't know when or even if I'd have time to write it but it was a lot of fun to consider the possibility!

[deanstop13billyjoeltraxx]

Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU

Dean Winchester had it all at Wichita State University — a second chance, a future devoid of his father, and a roommate-turned-best friend who understands him inside and out.

But his father dies, he fails out in his second semester, and Castiel Novak leaves without so much as a goodbye.

Three years later, Dean has picked up the pieces. He works at the most trusted auto-shop in Lawrence, he’s putting Sam through college. Dean thinks it can’t get much better than that.

Then Castiel Novak gives him a concussion, and everything falls apart. Again.

Chapter 2 is up on AO3 (and below the cut)! Tumblr chapter masterlist here.

Classic Rock and Other Foreign Concepts

Three Years Earlier

Castiel Novak was ready for his second chance. 

Sure, the name “Wichita State University” held no cache, and sure, it was only two hours away from home. But it was a full ride, it was free of old high school acquaintances. It was enough. 

Castiel stood at the door of his empty dorm room, hope blooming in his chest as he regarded the dingy bunks and linoleum floors. 

He didn’t have much in the way of belongings, so moving in was quick and easy, even by himself. Castiel made his bed, hung up his limited outfits in the dresser, and filled his desk with his books and paper. Only one thing remained in his suitcase — a picture of his family, two Christmases ago. Castiel took it out and looked at it for a moment, before deciding to place it on his desk. 

He decided it might be a good idea to familiarize himself with his new surroundings. That was sure to calm down the inevitable anxiety that his first trip to the showers would bring. Castiel strolled down the hallway, doing his best to stay out of the way of all of the other freshmen moving in on his floor. 

After successfully discovering the bathroom and the water fountain, as well as narrowly avoiding an awkward encounter with two giggling girls who were apparently intent upon introducing themselves to him, he returned to his room with a sigh.

Castiel moved to his desk and opened his computer. He pulled up his course schedule, reviewing it again, despite having already committed it to memory. Tuesdays and Thursdays would be difficult, he thought, with financial accounting, economics, and an intro to business. The other days were more interesting, holding philosophy, creative writing, and nineteenth century British literature. 

Castiel was about to read the class descriptions for the millionth time when a loud thud and a grunt interrupted his thoughts. He stood up, fast, almost knocking his head on the bottom of his bed. Castiel got to his open door just in time to almost run into someone. 

“Shit! Watch it, man!”

Castiel found himself face to face with… Plastic storage bins. The man holding them shifted to reveal a mild scowl. Castiel cleared out of his way, and the man set the three boxes down. 

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered. 

“You’re fine,” the man grumbled. “Sorry, long drive.”

“Dean Winchester, I presume?” Castiel said, cautiously. He had seen his roommate assignment online weeks earlier.

“Damn straight,” Dean said, and he offered a hand out to Castiel, who accepted it graciously. “Sorry, man, I’m terrible with names. Have we met?” 

“I’m Castiel Novak,” Castiel replied, then added, “We haven’t met, but the website informed me of your name and email address. I emailed you a few weeks back.” 

Dean nodded. “I definitely didn’t respond. Sorry ‘bout that, I kind of haven’t had access to the internet in… Well, it’s a long story. Anyway, good to meet you.” 

“You as well. Do you need any help unpacking?” 

“Least you can do after nearly killing me.” Castiel tensed, but then Dean clapped him on the back. “Kidding. Help would be great.”

Castiel moved to unpack the box nearest him, but Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No! Uh, not that one. No offense, but that’s the most important thing I own. Give me a second, you can start on this one.” 

Castiel tilted his head in inquisition, but Dean said nothing more, just got to unpacking the bin. Castiel set to work on the second of the three, first grabbing the sheets to make the bed. 

When Castiel had finished with Dean’s bed, he turned to see Dean had set up a record player and a pair of bookshelf speakers on the floor. 

“Behold,” Dean announced. “My prized possession.” 

“A record player?” Castiel asked. 

“Not just the record player,” Dean said. He went back to the box, which Castiel could now see was filled with vinyl LPs. “The whole collection.”

“It’s quite impressive.”

“Fuckin’ A-right,” Dean said. “Here, you like Zeppelin?” 

“Embarrassingly, I have no idea who that is,” Castiel said, blushing.

Dean’s eyes widened. “Dude! No way! Oh man, it’s time to educate you. How have you survived this long Zeppelin-less?” 

“My father was strict about music.” Castiel felt suddenly very nervous that this, combined with his near-toppling of Dean moments earlier, would have him solidly fixed on Dean’s bad side. But Dean was flipping through his records with animation, as if Castiel’s ignorance was a game to be won. 

“That’s utter bullshit,” Dean declared. “Here, listen to this.”

Dean put on Led Zeppelin IV. Castiel turned back to the plastic bins, intent upon doing something while the record played. He was quiet as he worked, setting up first an ancient-looking coffee maker, then a small, LCD monitor. Dean unpacked his clothes, quietly singing along to the music.

“Do you need help with the rest?” Castiel asked when they had finished, assuming there had to be more than just those three boxes. Dean chuckled quietly. 

“Nah, this is it. Thanks for the help, Castiel.” 

Castiel raised an eyebrow, but only said, “You’re welcome.” Dean had brought even less than he had. 

“That’s a weird name, by the way,” Dean said, turning the volume down on the speakers. “Castiel. It sounds kind of --” 

“Ancient?” Castiel supplied, and Dean nodded. “That’s because it is. It’s adapted from the name of an angel in the third book of Enoch.” At Dean’s blank look, Castiel added, “Christian apocryphal lore. My parents are very religious.” 

“Ah,” Dean said. “And you…?”

“Haven’t been to church since I was fourteen,” Castiel finished. “We are very different, my family and I.” 

Dean nodded. “That them?” He asked, pointing at the picture on Castiel’s desk. 

“Yes,” Castiel said. 

“That’s a lot of kids.” 

“Yes, there’s five of us.” 

“Road trips must have been fun,” Dean said.

This actually got a laugh out of Castiel. 

“I’ve only got one. My kid brother, Sam,” Dean said.

“How old is Sam?”

“God.” Dean rubbed his face, considering. “I guess he’s fourteen now. It’s weird — I feel like I can never see him as any older than, like, eight.”

“I can’t say I understand,” Castiel replied. “I’m the youngest.” 

“Damn, that must suck, four older siblings. What’re their names?”

Castiel picked up the picture. “The boy on the left — he’s the oldest — that’s Gabriel. The other is Bartholomew. The redhead is Anna. And then there’s Hannah, she’s just a couple years older than me.” 

Dean nodded, moving to his record player. He pulled a small, worn piece of paper from the inside. 

“This is old as hell,” he said, showing Castiel the picture, “but that’s my dad, and that’s Sam when he was… ten, maybe?” 

“It’s just the three of you?”

“Yeah, my mom died when I was, like, four.”

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to --” 

“No worries, man,” Dean said. “Long time ago.”

There was an awkward pause that made Castiel want to open his computer just to look preoccupied, but Dean spoke. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t get over this name stuff. I can’t be roommates with a dude named after an angel.” 

Castiel felt his entire body deflate. Day one, and just his name was already making things difficult. “I’m… Sure there’s a way to switch roommates. But, what’s wrong with being named after an angel?”

“Dude, I was totally joking,” Dean said, putting his hands up defensively. “I’m not switching roommates — unless you’re secretly a vampire or something.” Castiel smiled at that. “And there’s nothing wrong with it, I’m just not into the whole religion thing. Makes me feel weird. Nah, I’ll just have to call you something else. Any suggestions?” 

“I’ve always just been ‘Castiel.’” 

“Man, haven’t had many creative friends,” Dean said. “Cas it is, then.” 

“Cas?” Castiel replied. He considered the new nickname. Castiel actually found it strange that no one had ever thought of it before, now that he had heard it. “I suppose it is a great deal shorter.”

“Easier to say, too,” Dean said. “It fits.”

Castiel smiled tentatively. “Sure.” 

The music faded, and Dean flipped the record to the B-side. 

“What do you think so far?” He asked. 

“It’s certainly different than what I’m used to. In a good way,” Castiel added. 

Dean beamed at him. “Awesome. I have more in here, too, and it’s not just Zep. Mostly the classics — the Stones, Rush, AC/DC… And a shit load of grunge, too. Man, wait til you hear Alice in Chains…” 

Castiel smiled at his animation. “Music is important to you?” 

“Dude, I couldn’t function without music. I feel like every time I listen to a song I like, I find something new that makes it even better.” Dean chuckled to himself. “Sorry, I’m geeking out about classic rock.”

“I don’t mind,” Castiel said, and he found that it was true. “I feel similarly about books.” 

“You like to read?”

“Immensely.” 

“You’ll have to give me some recommendations. I read Vonnegut in high school, and that was cool, but other than that and Harry Potter I think I’m pretty hopeless.”

“I will,” Castiel said, even though he knew he wouldn’t, even though he knew Dean was simply saying the polite thing. He had learned by now that when people asked about him to talk about the things he liked, they were just being nice. 

Dean asked Castiel which end of the hall the bathrooms were on, and excused himself.

When he returned, Dean clapped his hands together. “So,” he said. “I gotta ask you the Freshman Questions.” At Castiel’s confused look, he elaborated: “You know, the two things you ask everyone for your whole freshman year. Where are you from, what are you majoring in?” 

Castiel nodded. “I see. I didn’t know there was a procedure.” 

Dean looked at him for a moment. “It’s not — I was kinda joking.” 

“Oh. Right,” Castiel said, rubbing his neck. “Well, I’m from Guthrie — it’s a small town in Oklahoma, just a few hours south of here. And I’m studying accounting and creative writing.” 

“Guthrie… I’ve driven through there, on our way to Oklahoma City for a job my dad worked once,” Dean said. 

“It’s not very impressive.” 

Dean laughed. “Nah, not really.” 

“What about you, Dean?”

“I’m from Lawrence — it’s northeast of here. And I have no fucking idea what I’m gonna major in,” he said. “I’m not really… Well, Sam is the smart one. That kid is gonna kick ass when he goes to school. I’m kinda just here to…” Dean trailed off. 

“Experience it?” Castiel suggested. Dean shrugged. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He cleared his throat. “Why accounting? I get the writing thing, you said you like books — but accounting? I feel like those two don’t mix.”

“They don’t,” Castiel agreed. “But I don’t want to be a starving author. I do want to be able to take care of myself.” I want to be far, far away from everything I’ve ever known. I want to leave and never look back.

“Fair,” Dean said. “I don’t know about you, Cas, but I’m starving. Wanna grab some dinner?” 

“Sure,” Castiel said with a smile.

 The next day, in his first creative writing class, the professor asked each of them to share their major, their hometown, and a fun fact. He called, “Novak, Castiel?” 

“Double major in accounting and writing. I’m from Guthrie, Oklahoma. I suppose a fun fact is that I’m named after an angel, but you can just call me Cas.” 

[blackgirlblues]

Being A Black Girl: And Chasing Your Dreams.. Yikes.

Hi, 

It’s me, your resident black girl back with some new shit to rant about. I’ve been posting a few screenshots of short poems and paragraphs I’ve been writing on my phone as a way to heal and get over Capricorn boy from my last post on here and I see you guys like and reblog. Thank you for showing love, although it makes me sad that so many of you seem to be going through the same range of emotions I am. I’m sorry. 

I know it’s a lonely place to be in. 

But, on the bright side, I’ve got a lot of new followers joining the diary/manual/rant page that is blackgirlology and it’s nice cause I think it’s becoming a little bit of a community. So, in a way, were never really going through any of these emotions alone. If you’ve found this page-you’re part of a community. Bask in it. 

Anyways, that aside, a lot has happened since I last spoke to you. I don’t know if any of you may remember, and for some new people this will be a surprise. But I’m actually a singer songwriter from Ireland. Moved to London a year and a half ago to pursue my music dream and that’s how I met Capricorn boy whos been the source of all my poems. 

Throughout this time in between, I’ve been trying to chase my dreams, and chase them relentlessly. and this summer i did just that, let me tell you, what im about to tell you guys, is to put it simply, wild. I’ll just cut to the chase. 

It all started in July. I’d been in London for quite a long time now, over a year and now have a manager who’s my best friend first and foremost. We’ll call her Maya. I met her in my first week of moving to London in the student halls I was staying at and we became best friends pretty quick. She studies music business, so it made sense and she just naturally ended up taking up the role as my music manager. Shes seen everything. The songs I wrote about Capricorn boy, the tears, everything. And she saw everything this summer. 

I saw an ad for a record label opportunity in London. It was advertised on my university facebook page; a new indie label, looking for demo submissions for a competition they were setting up to find their new signee. I sent a screenshot to Maya who agreed I should send my stuff in. I did, they liked it, I got a meeting, we were sent terms and conditions for the competition. We signed it, the rest was supposed to be history. 

Big yikes. 

There’s so many layers to this story that I will be shortening it, just because it can get very draining for me to talk about or even write about. I’ve healed from it i think, but I still want to put it here and write it about to finally close that chapter and be done with my feelings about what happened to me and my music. 

Basically, the whole competition, the record label, the dickhead CEO, it was all a scam. I had accidentally signed away the master rights to my new song to a record label started by a fake CEO who was committing fraud and known for tricking young artists into handing over their master rights so he could profit off of them, for power. 

It was a mess. Another contestant told me and Maya when we were outside of their office. Just minutes before we were under the impression that I was doing an interview for Billboard Magazine. Honestly, I never truly believed it. Shit was too good to be true. 

But she told us everything. How he was actually a run away from Spain, where he was caught and exposed for doing the exact same thing to artists there, how he didn’t have any money to fund the competition he had somehow roped all of us into, how he was illegally avoiding paying his team, how none of the creatives we had collaborated with for photoshoots etc were paid, how everything was a lie, how he didnt have any connections, and how he was trying to convince me specifically to sign a 360 deal with his label. 

Which, guys, I’m not stupid. After the first week of being with the label for the competition and letting my song live through their disastrous marketing campaign, Maya and I long decided that regardless of what they said, I would not under any circumstances be signing anything with any entity of their company. 

After being told the truth, I had to sit down. You see, when I came across this opportunity, I thought this was finally the life I’d been manifesting coming true. I had begun to grow in my spirituality and start journaling, writing down my manifestations, and getting to work with a record label who would later offer me a fair contract before I turn 20 was one of the manifestations I had written down every night before I went to bed. However, what I’d gotten was the exact opposite. 

I remember, me, Maya, and 2 of the girls from the competition all stood around in a circle outside of their new office that the CEO also hadnt paid for wondering what our next move would be with this new information. There was still 2 other contestants inside who had no idea what was really going on was an elaborate scam. One of them wanted to go in and expose them on the spot. I said no, we had to go in and pretend like everything was normal until we figured out what to do afterwards. 

So in I went, plastering the fakest smile on my face and pretended like I still thought I was about to be speaking with Billboard Magazine. Once I got out, I broke down in Maya’s arms. 

I went home to my flatmates, Ellie and Bea and cried for hours before I had to go work a 7 hour shift at a pizza place. 

I stayed in bed, and cried, and cried. and cried again. I didn’t get out of bed unless I needed too. The only people I talked too were my flatmates E and B and Maya. 

Everything was sorted out eventually, a lot more happened, but as I’ve been writing this article for you guys, I realised that all of that stuff is no longer relevant to my journey and isnt something I want to bring back into my energetic circle because I’ve made peace with the fact that a lot of people who betrayed me when I was at my lowest, peace with the fact that these contestants who wanted to “work together” to get out of this mess, actually wanted to save their own asses and leave me in the cold. 

But I still got out of it and I’m still here. 

I nearly got sued by a man with less than 20 pound to his company account online, but hey, I’m here.

I guess why I’m telling you guys this really short account of my summer is to both record it for myself but also to say its okay to flop, its okay to fail. I did both this summer. and thank god i did. it was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

following your dreams is scary, doing it as a black girl is terrifying because society has already kind of set you up to fail. there’s already misconceptions about what you do, who you are, where you come from and how good you’re going to be at what you do. its almost like we cant fail and we need to work 10 times harder to obtain half of what the average white person will get. and sometimes it can feel like we dont have any space to fail or make mistakes because of this but let me tell you thats not true. 

if anything, the universe will put you in places that will force you to grow through the mistakes you make. and thats exactly what happened to me this summer. 

i chased my dream so relentlessly i ended up in an environment i thought i manifested, i thought was good for me, only for the universe to show me that that specific environment i’d been wishing to be in is the furthest from what i need right now in my life. 

this so called failure showed me that not everybody who smiles can be trusted, and that people can be way more deceiving than i ever thought, especially when push comes to shove and they need to save themselves. you start to see the real them when it starts to get tense. the people who seem to be around you when you’re doing good will most likely dissapear when things start to go south, including some of your oldest friends. you will get radio silence on their end. be upset. cry. but after that be glad that this situation revealed their true colours. 

and then never put any more energy into them again. 

this failure showed me how fucking strong i am. how resilient and kind i am even in the face of disrespect and actual evil. it showed me how much i can care for someone who i believe is at a risk of losing it all, and showed me that this will not always be reciprocated. and for a while i thought that meant that i had to harden myself up and grow a shell. but i dont think so. i will not allow the things ive been through to make me into a hard person when i was born soft. i mean now, im a little rough around the edges, jagged enough to cut anyone who comes too close with some of that bad energy, but soft enough to hold myself tight and glue myself back together when i need to. soft enough to hold the people who held me this summer. soft enough to help people who i know deserve it. 

im a good person in a shitty world, i don’t need to match the world and become a shitty person to survive. 

after all of this happened, i stopped writing music. 

i haven’t written anything properly or produced anything in months and sometimes i get worried that ive completely lost my talent. but thats another thing that this failure taught me, i can never truly lose whats meant to be mine. i know that i was put on this earth to create change, to inspire, to be an activist and a voice for people who dont have one. i know i was put here to do it through a creative medium and right now i still think that is music. 

i think i just need to stop being so scared to start again, to learn my craft again.

i used to be so scared of failure but now i am so thankful for it and the lessons its taught me. i had so much hurt and pain and hatred in my heart for the universe for, in my head, doing this to me. but then i realised that the universe never does anything to you, it does it for you. all of this happened in my best interest and while i definitely didnt understand at the time, i get it now.

thank you universe for the worst summer of my life. 

and my black ass will be continuing to chase my dreams relentlessly, failing, tripping and falling on my ass until i get to the very top. 

besides, if everything had just gone right, that wouldnt have been very interesting, would it?

[iamkatehardy]

Dream Team (Eames x Reader) - Pt 2

Tags: @sparklyreaderx , @titty-teetee , @iv-nyc  , @ellar21 , @tiredoffeelinglost , @marvelgirl7 , @captstefanbrandt , @harleyquinns , @bsotstory , @mollybegger-blog , @scarrasco1325 (Tumblr won’t let me tag everyone, so I will be tagging in the comments ❤)

A/N: I am /was  a bit sleepy finishing this, forgive my typos or repetitive language at the end 😥 Also, I ended up writing more than I originally planned, so there will be a Part 3! All your feedback and opinions are extremely appreciated! They are motivating and fuel me to keep writing. Hope you enjoy it ❤❤ 

You can find the Teaser, Part 1 and much more if you search for my  Masterlist,  in case you missed them.

Dream Team – Pt2

It had been a little over seven weeks since you left Aruba and joined the team, endeavoring to track The Spectre. Such assignment bordered on the impossible; every lead you found had turned up nothing but dead-end after dead-end. The whiteboard that used to have any information regarding the targets of the team was unusually empty, aside from a couple notes and scribbles Arthur made during the countless meetings, which were just another first-class ticket to nowhere.

In their eyes, you had some slightly unorthodox methods to gather information, but a forger needs to be clever and crafty, in order to find a way around the problems and get results; these days, expert knowledge in computer science could come in very handy when you’re physically forging. Maybe the information you needed was just a few clicks and firewalls away; you were pretty sure it was only a matter of time before you had Mallory Hanson’s documentation, correspondence and bank information in your hands. There could be a clue from his past that could point you in his direction, so you spent a lot of nights going over the files, but they didn’t seem to have the answers you were looking for.

Tension was brewing in the warehouse and heated discussions became more frequent; in order to avoid them, you moved your little corner to a more peaceful place of the warehouse, where you could sit, work and hear your own thoughts.

“Do you have any results yet?” – Eames appeared behind you; he was the only one who remained calm and rational about the whole thing, which made him pretty much the only person you could tolerate at that point; his warm hands rested on your shoulders, gently squeezing them, trying to reassure you.

“No, I don’t, not really.” – You turned your attention to him for a moment.

“Why don’t you take a break? – He said, in a kind and understanding way, carefully kneading the muscles in your neck and shoulders. – “You look like you need it.”

“No rest for the wicked, Mr. Eames.” – After rubbing your eyes, you patted his hand with a cordial smile on your face, before looking at the screen again.

He shut the laptop.

“Hey!”

“Listen, darling, pushing ahead instead of resting won't help you achieve quicker results; actually, it’s quite the opposite.” – Leaning on the edge of the table, he folded his arms.

“Do not lecture me…”

“Oh, I’m not lecturing, I’m just reminding.” – A satisfied smirk played on his lips, as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Of course, whatever you say.” – You were willing to wipe the smirk off his face. After getting up, you locked eyes with him.  His eyes widened and his muscles got tense as you came closer; a mischievous smile puckered your lips when you noticed his reaction to the closeness of your bodies. – “Don’t worry, I don’t bite…”

“Not even for little old me?” – Chewing his lower lip, he studied you carefully, his eyes roaming over your body.

“Well…” – Lifting his chin with two fingers, you got closer. – “Maybe… If you ask really nicely.” – You purred, your lips whispering against his earlobe, with a devilish smile; there was something incredibly sexy about feeling your warm lips on his skin, so he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, as he tightened the grip he maintained on the table, to avoid grabbing you instead.

Eames began to move closer to you, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he was cut off by another voice.

“Am I interrupting something?” – Arthur slowly paced the room with his hands behind his back.

“No, no, no, not at all.” – With a gentle caress, you pulled your hand away, stepping back and leaning against the table by Eames’s side.  

“It’s time for the meeting, to share the updates on the situation.”

“What updates exactly, Arthur? Because I don’t have any… And I doubt anyone else does.” – You looked up at the ceiling, rolling your eyes.

“In ten minutes…” – He gave you and Eames a stern glare, as you both shared a look.

The team gathered in a circle to discuss the situation; Arthur came up with different theories and strategies, he wanted badly to be the one to crack the case. He picked up a sharpie and wrote furiously on the whiteboard, circling and underlining here or there, to highlight the important parts.

Your focus didn’t last; in five minutes your mind was wandering, as you stared off into the distance, bouncing on the chair. Eames kicked your chair, making you lose balance and come back to Earth, as your chair hit the ground with a loud noise. He tittered and you fixed your piercing gaze on him, while the whole team stopped to look at you both; you gave them an uncomfortable smile and they focused on Arthur’s rambles again.

“I only have five of my nine lives left by now and you almost made it four!” – You turned to Eames, whispering while pinching his leg hard.

“It was just to keep you attentive and alert during the meeting. Don’t be so upset, lovely.” – He spun the pen in his fingers, looking at the files placed over his lap, with an insufferable smirk on his face.

“Screw you.” – Shaking your head lightly, you took a deep breath, biting your lip to avoid a smile.

He put his hand on your knee, trying to get your attention once again.

“What now?!” – Glaring at him, you tried to contain you laughter and slapped his hand.

“What a feisty babe we’ve got here, huh?” – His thumb lightly rubbed your skin.

“Is there something you care to share with us, (Y/N), Eames?” – Arthur looked at both of you, in turn.

“Actually…” – Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him. – “As you know, many of my friends who were caught committing cybercrimes were offered immunity as long as they accepted working for the benefit of the government, in the Cyber Division of the Bureau, or the Agency… Meaning they have access to some information that people in general don’t. I pulled some strings and had a meeting with one of them; he told me the feds may or may not have bugged The Spectre’s house and phones, not long before he disappeared, since he was a person of interest. I would love to get my hands on those recordings.”

“Just like you said, people in general cannot access such information.” – Eames opened his arms and scratched the back of his head, before letting them fall again at his side.

“Right, except I’m not just some petty criminal you’ve pulled in off the street. It may take some days, because I’ll have a shitload of security layers to penetrate… But I know I can pull this off, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“(Y/N), are you even listening to yourself?! Messing with the Bureau is off the table. First of all, it’s a serious criminal offense, therefore, it has serious consequences; it but if that isn’t enough to stop you from doing it, then just think we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves right now. I’m not letting you risk our safety.”  - He looked you dead in the eye.

“Nothing in life comes without consequences.” – You came closer, wagging a finger almost in his face. -  “A lot of self-righteousness going on right, Mr. Eames… We’re more alike than you realize, so don’t go thinking you’re a saint.”

“I’m not; I’ve never said I was! But I’m not letting you do it.”

“I have no memory of asking for your permission.” – You spat those words venomously, and Eames looked at the others, looking for their support. - “Oh, I didn’t ask them either…”

Eames shook his head and without speaking another word he left the room.

“You know what; let’s just take a vote first thing tomorrow. Hopefully things will be a little more settled by then.” – Arthur made a wise suggestion.

Within a short time everyone had left the building, except for you and Eames; you were about to go back to work when you saw Eames and had an idea.

“Eames?”

He was sulking in the corner, thrusting his hands on his pockets.

“Hey…”- You came up behind him, your hand sliding gently down his back. – “I’m sorry.” – You murmured apologetically, before planting a slow kiss on his shoulder.

“We all lose our tempers now and then.” - He looked at you over his shoulder.

You turned him to face you, putting your arms around him and settling your head on his shoulder.

“I kind of like it when you get all mushy like that.” – He looked down at you, running his fingers through your hair.

“Just don’t get too used to it.” – You smirked, slapping his shoulder playfully. – “Would you like a cup of tea before we call it a night?”

“Of course! Is there anything you need help with?”

“Thanks, but I’m good; it’s just tea, not Mission Impossible, I think I can handle it.” – You teased, patting his chest, before going to make the tea.

The voting was in the morning, and you knew you couldn’t change Eames’s mind, so you decided you’d stop him from voting instead, and you knew exactly what to do. You had grinded a couple sleeping pills, to make it easier to slip them in his cup of tea, you just had to make sure he’d drink it.

“If you’d like more sugar, just let me know.” – Smirking, you delivered him the cup, letting the fingers graze lightly against his skin.

He sipped the hot tea noisily, sitting down on an old sofa.

“Come…” – He patted the spot next to him, before taking another sip.

You straddled him, locking your eyes on his.

“(Y/N), please don’t go on with this…” – He took a deep breath, looking down at the cup of tea with a devilish smirk.

“I haven’t even started…” – After taking a sip of tea, you rested your head against his.

“Be careful; any day now, temptation might be bigger than my self-control.” – Bending his face over the steaming cup, he slurped loudly, looking at you with glittering eyes.

“Is today the day?” – Leaning closer, with a teasing smirk on your face, you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging it lightly.

“It’s definitely about to happen, especially if you keep teasing me.” – He carefully set the empty mug aside, before his hands skimmed your thighs, igniting your whole body.

“Is that so?” – You set your mug aside as well, letting a hand trail slowly down his face.

His eyes followed your motion, before they ultimately focused on your lips; he dipped his head, trailing slow kisses up your neck, before he finally reached your delectable lips, tugging your lower lip softly. As he slid his tongue along your lower lip, an involuntary low whimper escaped your lips, and you pushed your hips against him. Eames smirked with satisfaction against your lips, before pressing a lingering warm kiss on them; you leaned forward and kissed him back, the way you’d been wanting to since you first met him, wrapping your arms around his neck. After long minutes of claiming your mouth in hard, hot kisses, a yawn escaped his lips.

“I thought I was amusing you, Mr. Eames.” – Nudging his face with your nose, you chuckled.

“And you are!” – He turned his face lazily, just enough to kiss you once more. – “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry.” – Rubbing his eyes, he yawned again.

“Who need a break now, huh?” –Your thumbs caressed his temples slowly.

“You… And maybe me.” – His eyelids started to feel heavy and he closed his eyes for a moment.

You unstraddled him, sitting by his side instead; putting an arm around him, you settled his head on your shoulder. Moments later, his soft quiet snores let you know that he was asleep. Reaching up and touching his lips with your fingers, you thought about what you did and your guilt began to overwhelm you. Although you put the pills on his tea, your other actions had been free from malice and manipulation, but you knew he probably wouldn’t think the same once he woke up.

The next morning the team reunited, in order to decide what to do. Arthur looked a thousand times at his watch.

“Okay, where the hell is Eames?”

“Maybe he’s late.” – You shrugged.

“I don’t think so; British people are very strict when it comes to punctuality. Nevertheless, we’ll wait, see if he shows up.”

“Suit yourself , Captain Smarty-Pants!” – You rolled your eyes.

You waited 5 minutes… 10 minutes… Half an hour.

“Please, can we get this over with?” – Ariadne asked.

“Finally somebody is making sense!”- Rolling your eyes, you sighed.

“Very well, let’s go on with it…”

Cobb and Arthur agreed with you about stealing Hanson’s tapes, but Ariadne and Yusuf didn’t; since Eames wasn’t there, the count was three votes in favor of stealing them and two against.

“Time to get down to business!” – Smirking victoriously, you picked your laptop and started working your way into the core of the Bureau’s network, to get the files.

It took you hours to plan how to do it without getting caught, and even more hours to follow the plan you made. After working tirelessly, you came back to the team.

“Kiss me and tell me again how brilliant I am.” – You dangled a flash drive in front of Arthur’s face.

“Is that what I believe that is?”

“Over 20 hours of recordings…” – You smirked.

Eames stormed inside the room, furious.

“It was you, wasn’t it?!” – He rushing over to you and grabbing your wrist.

“What is done is done.” – You broke his grip and faced him. – “And a lot of things have been done while you overslept. Suck it up, buttercup… We’ve got work to do.”

“Are you people nuts?!” – He looked at the whole team in turn.  

“I’ve done this before, believe it or not. We won’t get caught, I’m absolutely certain of that. You found me on a fucking island on the Pacific! If I had ever been caught, I’d be wearing an orange jumpsuit for life.”

“Aren’t you afraid you will, after this?”

“Practice makes perfect! If they had detected the intrusion, they would’ve stopped me from accessing the information…They would’ve found me and arrested me by now. I’m pretty sure the worst is over. Relax, Eames.”

“Whatever happened, we need to put it behind us and work together. We’re getting really close.” – Arthur then tried to reason.

Although things with Eames were complicated at first, you ended up sorting them out; you made a hell of a team.

The following week everyone spent most of their days listening to the tapes, trying to figure out what information could be read between the lines.

“They look like normal talks. I give up. ” – Arthur was sick of hearing the same records over and over again.

“He keeps repeating these numbers...” – Eames circled the numbers on the paper on the desk.

“He disappeared with all his money, maybe that’s an International Bank Account Number…” – Ariadne pointed out.

“He won’t just put his money on a regular bank... When you have that much money, people make questions and that’s not good when you’re on the run. His money is probably stashed on an offshore account in some tax haven, even if those numbers lead us to an account, it’ll be a dead-end.” – Arthur sighed frustrated

“Where will these numbers take us?” – Eames threw the file and the desk on the table.

“We are so fucking stupid!” - You closed your eyes and buried you face on your hands laughing. – “Eames, I love you…” – You got up.- “ Where will these numbers take us? It’s a long shot, but what if the numbers will actually take us somewhere?”

“What are you talking about? I thought you only started hallucinating around 3 a.m., when the sleep deprivation kicks in.” – Arthur mocked you.

“What if those numbers are coordinates?” – You shrugged.

“Wouldn’t the cops have noticed that?” – Ariadne asked.

“Hanson had people everywhere; it wouldn’t surprise me if he bribed the feds to look past this… Or they missed just the numbers; they were thinly veiled in endless hours of meaningless conversations!” – You reasoned.

“Do you have any idea how many possible combinations are there?” – Arthur scratched the back of his head.

“Not that many! Look, the numbers are in groups.” – You pointed out.

“We can’t lose anything by trying, right?” – Eames looked up at you.

“Well, hell, let’s give it a shot!”

The team gathered around a table, discussing the possibilities. The list of places that coordinates using those numbers could lead was endless.

“God, it could be anywhere! From Armenia, to Liberia,  Ecuador, Palau, Ivory Coast, some place in Siberia, Nauru, Monaco…” – Cobb clasped his hands on the table.

“Monaco, a sunny place for shady people!” – You smirked victoriously. – “French Riviera…No income taxes… Highest number of billionaires per capita in the fucking world… Culture, gambling, fake philanthropy… Everything Hanson likes.” – Spinning on the chair, you threw your hands up.

“Everything you like.” – Arthur teased you.

“Do you think he could be there?” – Cobb turned his attention to you.

“There’s only one way to know for sure, boss! You go there! ”

“There’s one small problem with your plan… It’s not easy for ordinary mortals to blend in.” – Eames cracked his knuckles.

“You’re a forger, I’m a forger… We could pull some strings and get new identities for the team. Of course I don’t mean a mere ID; we need to create a new persona, to the smallest detail and that will obviously require more than forgers’ work. Nothing can be left to chance: we need documents, bank accounts with seven digits, a million dollar house, dress accordingly that character, act accordingly to that character…”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little bit?” – He chuckled.

“Not really, no. I know it’s expensive and difficult, but…”

“Money is not a problem; our patron wants The Spectre at all costs, as soon as possible.” – Arthur interrupted you.

“You have the freedom to create the personas, as you see fit.” – Cobb leaned back on the chair.

“Well, you have experience with it…” – An insufferable smirk formed on Arthur’s lips and you glared at him.

During the next days, you made a few phone calls, contacting some old friends to urgently help you get the new documents for the team. IDs, passports, finance data, criminal records, bills, bank accounts, driving licenses, college degrees, even dental records; a lifetime compilation of documents would be in your hands in the blink of an eye.

“Eames… The accent and how stuck-up you can be… But also charming when you want to.” – You wrinkled your nose. – “I decided you’d be British nobility. Also, no more shirts with funny patters while you’re there.” – After hitting his shoulder playfully with his file, you delivered it to him, along with a bag with fancy plain shirts. - “Cobb, you inherited a lot of money because your family has been in the banking business for decades. As the boss, you get a yacht, which is the perfect façade for the team meeting, by the way” – You winked at Cobb and gave him his things. – “Arthur, you ‘re a fucking bastard and for that reason you’ll simply be Cobb’s butler.” – Folding your arms over your chest, you gave him a satisfied smirk.

“What a great day to be alive!” – Eames mocked him.

“You can’t be serious, (Y/N).”

“I really wanted to do that, but I made you some megalomaniac scientist who’s looking for someone to co-found his research… Next time you’ll be the butler, though.” – You handed him his files. – “ Yusuf, a cunning mysterious oil exporter coming from the Middle East to find some business partners! All oil exporters have a Lamborghini, so I felt generous and got you one, enjoy the ride darling!” – Dangling the car keys in front of him, you delivered him his files as well. - “And last but not least, Ariadne. You’ll be Eames’s wife, that will grand you place wherever he goes! Lots of designer stuff, grace, poise… These are Louboutin’s, treat them kindly, please.”

She tried on the shoes, tripping and stumbling around.

“I’m ok.” – She opened her arms, trying to keep balance.

“Graceful like a newborn giraffe.. Hopefully it’ll get better.” – Chuckling because disgraceful way she walked, you scratched your forehead.

“And you, what will you be?” – Eames looked up at you.

“I won’t be anything; I will be going back home.”

“What?” – He tilted his head.

“We found out where he was, that was my mission.” – You shrugged.

“Except we haven’t found him yet.”

“That place is smaller than this city, you will!” – You gave him an encouraging smile.

“Your skills could come handy.” – Arthur added.

“I didn’t even get an identity, Arthur.”

“That would be a problem, if you didn’t have a dozen of different personas, (Y/N).” – He came closer and you shook your head silently. – “Also, Ariadne would miserably fail at trying to be a noble… Sorry Ariadne, but need something more suited to you, like an artist.”

“Can artists wear flats and sneakers? Comfortable clothes ? ” - Ariadne sat on the table, kicking the shoes off and sighing in relief.

“See?”- Arthur smirked and you rolled your eyes.

Eames got up, putting his arm around your shoulder.

“So, would you like to be my wife?” – He whispered.

[foxyotomelady]

It wasn’t supposed to be, Chapter IV (JuminxOC/Reader)

Author’s notes:

Ok, I must admit - I wrote a few chapters in advance and let me tell you, guys... it'll be such a slow burn :>

I have so much fun writing this :) Though it's quite a sad story, lol.

It wasn't supposed to come out until Monday, but... screw it. I guess I'll publish these chapters on weekends from now on.

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV (You are here) | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII |  Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII | Chapter XIV | Chapter XV | Chapter XVI |

Buy Me A Ko-Fi Have a nice reading!

He got up earlier this morning. Because of the tormenting thoughts, he couldn't sleep peacefully. He thought he would find Riyu sleeping on the sofa, but she wasn't there. Only the blanket remained. She had to wake up at night and return to the guest room.  He ordered breakfast for both of them. To his surprise, Elizabeth the 3rd still did not come to greet him. He couldn't see her anywhere. Maybe she fell asleep somewhere behind some furniture?  Sipping coffee over the breakfast, he heard the door open and close. Riyu left the guest room and entered the kitchen in a slow stride. Jumin looked up at her. She looked bad, her hair was tousled, her eyes swollen and red, and she blinked as if she were disgust by light.  "Good morning, Jumin," She mumbled weakly. She didn't even decide to go for a bathrobe. She was now in nothing but a nightgown, which made Jumin feels strangely uncomfortable. He moved his gaze slowly at the business magazine he was reading.

"Have you saw Elizabeth the 3rd?"  "Yes, yes. She slept with me. I'm sorry but she followed me into the room and didn't want to leave," The girl was looking for something in the cupboards - which he saw with the corner of his eye. "It's really amazing how much she seems to like you. Are you looking for something?"  "I need a glass. I want to pour myself some water."  "Can't you see that breakfast is waiting for you on the table?"  "Huh? It's for me?"  "Of course. Today you will really need scrambled eggs, it is good for a hangover. Just like tomatoes on whole-grain bread. A glass of water is waiting for you here too." She came to the table, stunned. She sat down slowly in the chair. Jumin felt his lips lifting up in a slight smile. He didn't control it and didn't understand why. "Oh my god, Jumin. You are my savior! " What? He stared at her again. She looked a bit embarrassed now. "I mean... Thank you. You know... You're really nice, I mean it. " Jumin cleared his throat, "Do not get me wrong. You are under my protection at my father's request. So I only do what he asked me to do." The girl drank water from a glass and smiled under her breath, "You can say that, but now I see that you are a really kind person. And... thank you for the blanket. " Jumin felt strange, again. Not the first time he heard kind words from a woman, which he always ignored because he knew that their words were either insincere or used to seduce him. It was different now. He kept thinking in his mind that he couldn't let his guard down, that this girl was just more crafty than others, but... He felt honesty and simplicity in her words.  "It just wouldn't be good if you catch a cold," Jumin finally managed to say more. "My father-"  Riyu snorted, interrupting him. He blinked in bewilderment.  "Okay, let's say you do all this for your father," She said with a mocking smile. "It's... never mind. Since we're talking about a cold... I think you should put something on yourself."  "Oh," She looked at herself, she had a slice of bread in her mouth, "I'm so sowy. I'll go twake that blanket."  Jumin barely suppressed a laugh as she babbled this way. There was something... something... cute about it. Riyu bit off and chewed on a piece of bread, went for the blanket, wrapped in it, and returned to the table. It was then that Jumin's phone rang. He reached for it to his pocket and... felt stuffy immediately when he saw his father's ID. He answered hesitantly, "Father?" "Son, is something the matter? Riyu doesn't answer her phone."  Jumin looked at the girl, "Riyu, my father is concerned that you are not answering his calls." The girl's expression narrowed instantly, "I left my phone in the room."  "Riyu left her phone in the room, and now we are having breakfast together." "Could you give her to the phone for a moment?" The girl was close to crying when he was handing the phone to her. He felt really uncomfortable about it. She took a little breath. And then it started. The lies. The pretending. "Mr. Han? Yes, I'm so sorry, I just left my phone in the room. I didn't think you'll call. Yes, I'm so happy you managed to find some time to do it. Yes, Jumin is very nice to me. No, no, I'm not bored. It's wonderful here... Yes, I... I... um... miss you too." Jumin felt as something twitched on his face. He couldn't stand it - how much the girl was devastated by the conversation. He really couldn't understand what compelled her to torment herself so much. Was it really about money? Yes, it must be. He couldn't afford to think otherwise. Women could do nasty things for money. Despite this... "Riyu, I would like to talk to my father for a while." The girl cut off her nervous babbling. She looked at him with relief, "Mr. Han, Jumin wants to talk to you."  When he got the phone from her, he didn't miss her hand trembling. "Yes, my son?" "How long will your delegation take?"  His father sighed, "Surely it will be prolonged. Maybe up to a month or even two. I have a lot to do. If I knew it would take so long, I would take Riyu with me. Actually, I think I should buy her a travel ticket..."  "Do you want her to fly there to you?" Saying this, Jumin glanced at the girl. She was pale, looking at the food with horror, "I don't think that's a good idea." "Oh, why is that?"  "You said it yourself, you have a lot to do. She would just bother you. Besides, she would be constantly alone there, am I right? Here she has Elizabeth the 3rd at least when I go to work. And she is safe with me here as nowhere else." "I think you're right, son. Can you give her the phone back? I would like to say goodbye to her."  Jumin looked at the terrified girl, "My father says goodbye to you."  Riyu blinked, looked up and called, "And goodbye to you, Mr. Han!"  "Son, wait-"  Jumin hung up, put the phone down on the table, "Let's return to eating. Actually, I would like to discuss something with you."  The girl suddenly covered her mouth with her hand, jumped up from her seat and ran to the bathroom. Jumin sat still for a moment, dumbfounded. Then he got up slowly and followed the girl. He stopped at the bathroom door, "Riyu, is everything okay?"  In the response, he heard a sound that could only mean one thing - she vomited.  "Riyu... May I... come in?"  "No, please don't come in!"  Jumin felt a great urge to come in and help her somehow, but he didn't want to ignore her wishes. So he just waited nearby and listened if something worse was happening. When Riyu came out of the bathroom, her face yellow, she looked at him in amazement, "Have you stood there all this time?" "I had to be sure that nothing bad would happen."  "Then... Thank you. It's probably because of the wine. I drank too much yesterday." "Yes, it's partly the fault of the wine. But also of your nerves when you talked to my father."  Riyu looked away, "No way! I love talking with Mr. Han!"  Jumin decided to ignore this obvious lie. They returned to the table. Riyu tapped a fork on her plate, lost her appetite.  "You wanted to talk to me about something?" She asked. "Ah, yes," Jumin cleared his throat. "Have you heard about RFA?"  Riyu thought for a brief moment, "RFA... Ah! Yes! It's the organization hosting the parties to support various foundations. But they haven't hosted anything for a long time."  "I am part of this organization."  "Really? I had no idea."  "It's true that we haven't hosted anything for a long time. It's because Rika, the person responsible for serving guests, has left us."  "Left? You mean...?"  "Yes, she died. She committed suicide," Jumin saw the girl flinch, but he continued, "I spoke to V yesterday, he is now the most important person in the RFA. We have a proposition for you."  "I'm listening."  "We would like you to take over Rik's duties. It's not difficult. You would only be responsible for inviting guests and correspond with them."  Riyu stared at him in amazement, "Why me?" "V is my good friend and he has expressed such a desire. I also do not quite understand his choice but I will try to trust his judgment." "I... Hmm... Will you give me time to think about it?"  "Of course, I will also talk to other RFA members what they think about this idea. And now I'm sorry, I have to go to work. I'm late anyway." 

[Jumin Han has entered the chat room] Jumin Han: I see everyone is here. Jumin Han: Have you read what V wrote?  Jaehee Kang: Yes, that's what we're discussing.  Yoosung: I'm not convinced ...  Yoosung: Why would Mr. Chairman's girlfriend take over Rika's responsibilities?  Yoosung: V wrote that Rika would want it, but...  Jumin Han: I don't believe that either, but I think we should trust V.  Zen: I don't know ;;;; I don't want another rich person here...  Jumin Han: I don't think Riyu is rich.  Jumin Han: If she were, she wouldn't hunt my father.  Zen: All in all I don't know what's worse... ;;;; 707: I'm SO DOWN 707: She's soooo pretty 

Jumin Han: 

Jumin Han: If you're planning to flirt with her, I have to advise you against it.  Jumin Han: I can't accept it. 707: lololololol  707: jealous much?  Jumin Han: Don't be ridiculous.  Jumin Han: She is my father's woman.  Jumin Han: It would be very inappropriate if I agreed to it. Jumin Han: Besides, she is now under my protection. 707: what are you?  707: her brother? Zen: lololol  707: lololol  Jumin Han: Given her age, I could be. But I'm not.  Jumin Han: It doesn't change the fact that the situation is uncomfortable enough for me.  Jumin Han: I wish you wouldn't make it worse. Jaehee Kang: We should make a decision.  Jaehee Kang: I am in favor of this idea. I think that her connection with our organization will have a good impact on Mr. Chairman's image.  707: I AM  707: UP FOR IT!!!  707: BIG 707: FAT 707: YES !!!!  Zen: sigh ;;; FINE, I will trust V ‘s decision. Yoosung: I don't know...  707: You have been outvoted anyway lololol  Jumin Han: I would prefer everyone to clearly agree.  Yoosung: Okay... Maybe this Riyu will be a nice person...  Jumin Han: so we made a decision.  Jumin Han: now excuse me.  [Jumin Han has left the chat room] Jumin did not know if he should be pleased with the result of this conversation or just the opposite. Somewhere in the subconscious, he hoped that the others would disagree and it'd solve the problem. He tapped his fingers on the desk surface and hesitantly wrote a message to Riyu.  The others agreed. Have you thought about whether you agree?  Yes, I think it will be an interesting experience. And finally, I will have something to do. Although I don't complain, I take photos of Elizabeth the 3rd for half a day. You want to see it? Jumin swallowed, loosened his tie. Write that you don't want to... He thought to himself and began to type the answer.  I'd love to see them. He waited a long time for her response. She sent him a whole set of photos. Elizabeth the 3rd was the majority. But in one... Riyu was holding the cat in her arms, hugging her cheek to its little face and smiling charmingly. Jumin's heart leaped. He should ignore it. He had to ignore it.  Give me your phone's IP please. I will forward it to Seven so that he can install the messenger through which we communicate.  Messenger? Fine. But is it safe to give my IP to this Seven? Will he not use it for other purposes?  If he tries, he will deal with me.  Why did he write it?  Okay, that's my IP: 1.0.1. You didn't say anything about the photos :( Don't you like them?  They are very pretty. You and Elizabeth the 3rd look really cute.  Why did he write it?!  Thank you! ^^ Have a nice day at work! Jumin rested his forehead on his clenched fist, his elbow on the desk. He had a very bad feeling about all this.

Riyu blinked when an unknown number called her. She picked up the phone, "Yes, hello?"  "Wow ~! You have a sweet voice ~!"  "Um... Who is this?"  "Ah, forgive my bad manners," Riyu could have sworn the person on the other side of the phone was imitating Jumin's voice. "It's I! Seven! Luciel! Defender of Justice!"  "Um... eh... Right! Seven, yes. Jumin gave you my number, right?" "Nah, only your IP. It was enough for me. You know, I'm quite a brilliant hacker! You already have a messenger installed on your phone! Have fun and welcome to the RFA~!"  And he just hung up...  Well, he was definitely a unique person. Thoughtfully, she looked for a messenger on her phone... It was indeed there! She entered the application. She had the opportunity to create her profile, to exchange the messages through this app and to enter the chat room. She looked at the profiles of others out of curiosity. Jumin had photos of Elizabeth as both the avatar and the profile background - which didn't surprise her. Jaehee Kang had a cup of coffee as her avatar, Yoosung someone who looks like a game character. Zen... Wait, she has seen him somewhere. Right, that was the musical actor Hyun Ryu. He had his own pictures on his avatar and background. And there was Seven, actually 707... How many nicknames did he have? His avatar had green stamps, like from this Matrix film. Then she decided to enter the chat room. Yoosung and Zen were there. Riyu: Um... hello? ^^ Yoosung: Oh! Riyu is here! Zen: oh, well, hello~ Riyu: Yes, hello to you, guys. Riyu: This is kinda awkward ^^' Zen: aww, don't be shy Yoosung: wait, we should introduce ourselves Yoosung: I'm Yoosung Kim, 21 year old student Riyu: nice to meet you, Yoosung!

Zen: lol, Yoosung Zen: just this morning you were so against her Yoosung: hey don't just say that T-T Yusoong: She seems nice so I changed my mind Zen: she just said a few words;;; Riyu: and what about you Zen? Riyu: You don't like me being here? Zen: No, No! Zen: I have nothing against you! Zen: It's always nice to talk to a pretty lady~ Zen: 

Riyu: Um... thank you? ^^ Zen: btw, I'm Hyun Ryu, I'm 24 and a musical actor. Riyu: I know that. I think I saw some of your performance but I don't remember the titles, sorry. Zen: Nothing to be sorry about! I'm honored you recognize me Zen:

Yoosung: 

Yoosung: Firstly, Zen, don't you remember what Jumin said about flirting with Riyu? Zen: I'm not flirting, gosh ;;; I'm just being nice Yoosung: also, aren't you the one who said 'I don't want another rich person here'? Riyu: I'm not rich actually ^^' Zen: see? So there is no problem with her being here! Riyu: but what Jumin said about... um... flirting with me? Zen: he got so protective over you, lol Zen: he said we're not allowed to flirt with you cause you are... Zen: you know... Riyu: his father's new woman, yes. Riyu: Can we not talk about it here? Riyu: I think it'll be less awkward for all of us if we'll keep avoiding this topic. Riyu: Maybe I just introduce myself as you both did Riyu: I'm Riyu Cheong, 20 years old. I wasn't able to start my studies yet, but I planning to. I'm interested in art and writing. Yoosung: oh, wow, you're even younger than me! Zen: that's cute~ Riyu: So now I know you two, I know Jumin obviously, I talked with Seven over the phone... Can you tell me something about Jaehee Kang? Zen: she is a very responsible person, 26-year-old. She is that jerk’s assistant Yoosung: and she's also Zen's big fan, lol Zen: stahp it ;;; Riyu: that jerk? Zen: I meant Jumin Han Riyu: Why? Riyu: Why are you calling him that? Riyu: He's very kind and caring. Zen: what Zen: Are you sure we're talking about the same person? Riyu: don't be mean to him, he's doing a lot for me Riyu: Oh, and I love Elizabeth the 3rd! Zen: WHAT ;;; no, don't even mention the furball Riyu: huh? why? wait, I want to do something  [Riyu has left the chat room] On her phone she had a few pictures of her old dog. She set up one of them as her background photo, and for an avatar, she chooses the one in which she was with Elizabeth. [Riyu has entered the chat room] Riyu: what do you think? Zen: ..... Yoosung: that's a cute photo! Zen: yes but why the cat ;;;; Riyu: she's pretty! Why you hate her so much? Zen: I'm alergic.... Riyu: but it's just a photo ;;; Zen: and I already feel like sneezing  Riyu spend quite a big amount of time talking with them and she finally felt more relaxed. How long it was since she was able to talk to people like that? To has a chance of making friends? Jumin didn't even know how much he has done for her just allowing her to use this silly app...

[rimalupin]

Leo x MC: Starting Over

I haven’t had the chance to post this fic until now since 1) I’ve been working on it FOREVER (mostly b/c of school keeping me busy, haha ^-^’) and 2) I was reluctant to post it on my Tumblr (I’m shy, okay? :P).

Anyway, here it is! Dedicating this story to you lovelies who adore Leo and/or Shakespeare~. :)

BTW, this is technically Part I of the story (So the Prologue and Acts I, II, & III.). I’ll try to post Part II (Acts IV, V, & the Epilogue) as soon as I finish writing them. :P

Warnings: Low-key spoilers; mentions of murder; story gets kind of angsty/dramatic/emotional by the third act (whoops~).

Nonetheless, enjoy~. (Story below.)

Prologue

You know the saying, “Ask and you shall receive”? Well, I didn’t ask for any of this to happen.

I didn’t ask to be a Granger.

I didn’t ask to leave my country.

I didn’t ask to become a princess.

And I most certainly did not ask for Leo Crawford to come back into my life.

Act I

I stared up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Today had been an exhausting day: besides the usual princess lessons and the never-ending meetings with my potential suitors, I had to prepare for my official coronation ceremony.

I was shocked when I found out that I was going to be queen so soon; I had only been Wysteria’s princess elect for about three months, so I wasn’t exactly the most experienced person to run the country. And although the King’s health seemed to be improving, he insisted that the sooner I take the throne, the better both he and the country will be. And so - after much backlash from the old bureaucrats - he scheduled my coronation ceremony to occur a week from today.

And because the ceremony was coming up so soon, the pressure for me to choose a suitor skyrocketed. Every day, someone felt that it was absolutely necessary to ask me if I had found “The One” yet. Sometimes, people would even give me suggestions as to who I should marry. “Oh, I do believe that Duke Howard would be an excellent choice for your prince consort. He is such a gentleman, plus he’s quite the looker!” “But it would be politically advantageous for the princess to marry King Byron. Imagine what would happen if Wysteria strengthened relations with Stein!”

First of all, people can’t just expect me to find “The One” overnight. If that was possible, I’d be living in a fairytale. Which, at the moment, sounded far better than suffering from the stress of the real world. Plus, people think that I need a husband to rule beside me. I know I’m going to be queen in a week, but can’t I have some more time to choose a suitor? And besides, who said it was an absolute necessity for a queen to need a king?

Second: How the heck did the words “politically advantageous relationship” suddenly become synonymous with “potential lifetime partner”? Sure, King Byron is a great ruler, an important ally, and a wonderful person. But if I wouldn’t want to marry him solely for power. I had openly spoken to him about the possibility of marriage alliance during my visit to Stein last month. Although he didn’t necessarily agree with my views, he respected my decision and advised me not to feel pressured to wed purely for the sake of politics. We’ve been good friends ever since that day.

Lastly, I’m not going to pick my suitor based on how popular they are with the people. Especially when it comes to Louis Howard. I agree that Louis’s charm and looks make him a seemingly perfect candidate for my prince consort. But I’m not going to choose him just because people are telling me to do so. Besides, he and I aren’t very close: whenever I try to socialize with him, he tends to stay quiet and distance himself from me. I’m pretty sure that he either doesn’t like me or is interested in somebody else.

Not that it’s my problem: as far as I’m concerned, he’s free to admire whomever he wants. At least he has an idea of who he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

I groaned and covered my face with my blanket. I couldn’t let stress get the best of me, especially since I was going out of town tomorrow for a meeting with the Duke of Laurelia.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand: it wasn’t too late yet. I jumped off of the bed, slipped on a robe and some shoes, and snuck out of my room.

~~~

I expertly tiptoed my way to the palace’s library. The door was propped open, so I slid through the doorway before slowly closing it. I looked around the dimly lit room: beautifully colored books covered the intricately carved bookshelves surrounding the room. An ancient grandfather clock stood between two windows covered in sheer champagne-colored curtains. A long wooden desk covered with several documents stood in front of the tallest bookcase, and two sofas decorated the middle of the library. To top it off, a huge crystal chandelier hung onto the ceiling, reflecting the remaining candlelight throughout the room. I sighed to myself. Sometimes, I forgot how fancy this place looked for a library.

I walked up to one of the bookshelves and scanned their contents. “Okay, let’s see,” I mumbled as I searched through the authors’ names. “Beaumont, Fletcher, Kyd, Marlow, Middleton… Ah-ha!” The red leather-bound book I found was just a few shelves above me. I grabbed a chair from behind the desk and climbed on top of it. Being shorter-than-average, I had to stand on my toes in order to reach for the book. I almost had my grip on the book, but I nearly fell off of the chair when I suddenly heard a voice from behind me: “What exactly is the princess doing here at this hour?”

I grabbed the top of my chair to steady myself. Once I found my balance, I turned to face the person behind me. “What the hell, Leo?!” I exclaimed. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Act II

I had met Leo Crawford when we were children. Although we were both born into nobility, our families - the Grangers and the Crawfords - had been feuding with each other for centuries. Nobody - not even Wysteria’s best historians - knows who initiated the fight, let alone what started it.

When we were kids, we didn’t take our families’ ancient grudges against each other into account. We would play together all the time, along with Alyn, Leo’s twin brother. It wasn’t until their parents died that I learned we were destined to hate each other.

The story was that the old Crawford mansion was raided by a band of thieves. They took everything that they could find, and they didn’t stop until they murdered Lord and Lady Crawford in front of their sons’ eyes. Luckily, one of the family’s maids managed to help the boys escape before their home was burned down. Once they were out of harm’s way, Alyn and Leo moved into the palace temporarily before being offered to live at their uncle’s mansion.

When the news about Alyn and Leo’s parents got out, the rumours spread like wildfire. People believed that a Granger sent the group of thieves to kill Lord and Lady Crawford. Others talked about the possibility of the Crawford twins plotting their revenge against the Grangers.

After hearing the rumours, my parents made sure that I would never see the Alyn and Leo ever again. We moved out of Wysteria and completely cut off all forms of communication from the remaining Crawfords.

Time passed and we never learned who the real culprit of the murder was. Of course, the people needed to blame someone, so they always pointed at my family. Being made the scapegoat made my blood boil: why should my family take responsibility for a crime somebody else committed? The whispers eventually died down, but that didn’t stop me from wishing that I hadn’t been born a Granger and that I had never met the Crawfords.

Years later, I returned to my home country - against my parents’ wishes - with the intention to study political science. Instead, I was chosen to be Wysteria’s princess elect. Now, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to stay away from the Crawfords. I did my best to ignore them; however, I quickly found that hard to do.

Alyn - who is now the Captain of the Wysterian Knights - holds the responsibility of protecting me from harm at all costs. He often accompanies me on my trips out of town, which I find mildly annoying since we were supposed to be enemies. Luckily, he’s not much of a talker, so our time together often feels brief and uneventful.

And then there’s Leo. The unpredictable one. The spontaneous twin. The flirtatious bureaucrat who somehow convinced Giles - the king’s advisor and my personal tutor - to choose me as the princess elect.

I don’t know why Leo did it. Maybe this was his way of ensuring that I’d be miserable with the weight of responsibilities on my shoulders.

Well, he sure is doing a mighty fine job with making me suffer.

~~~

I glared at Leo, infuriated that he had almost made me fall. He looked different from blonde, lanky kid I used to know. His hair now seemed to be more white than blonde. His attire was fit for a palace bureaucrat, especially his long velvet coat. I noticed that he had time to develop some muscle in his tall body, which showed through his white button-up shirt. His familiar crimson eyes observed me from behind his black, thin-rimmed glasses.

I was amazed at how much he’d changed. I hated to admit it, but Leo grew up to be a dashing young man.

Leo chuckled. His platinum blonde hair moved along with his bobbing head. “You should really be more careful: that could’ve been a nasty fall.”

I rolled my eyes at the him. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to get this book and then I’ll be on my way.”

“You’re still quite the bookworm, eh?” Leo said.

“And I see you’re still awfully nosy.” I turned to face the bookshelf and resumed my mission to grab the book. I found it significantly harder to reach for the book with Leo watching my every move. After I struggled for a few moments, Leo spoke up: “Rosie, allow me.”

I refused to let my guard down at his attempt to be friendly. “It’s Rosalind to you, Crawford. Wait, what are you-?” Suddenly, Leo grabbed my waist and began to lift me off of the chair. I briefly shrieked in terror, but Leo shushed me. “Rosie, lower your voice. Do you want to wake up the whole palace?”

“I will if you don’t put me down.”

Leo sighed. “Look, I’m only trying to help. Just tell me where the book is and I’ll hoist you up.”

I groaned. “Fine.” My eyes scanned the bookshelves for my prize. “Up. Now a little to the left. Almost there.” Leo’s hands stayed securely around my waist as he maneuvered me towards my destination. “Here it is!” I exclaimed as I grabbed the book. My celebration was briefly cut off by Leo’s laughter. “What’s so funny?” I asked, confused.

Leo turned me around to face him. “You’re just so cute when you get excited. Especially about books.”

I felt my face grow hot. I looked away, attempting to hide my blush. “Oh, shut up and let me down.”

“As you wish, Princess.” I held the book in my arms as he gently set me back onto the floor. Once I was securely on the ground, I attempted to free myself from his grip, but he wouldn’t let me go. Leo tried to meet my eyes with his own. I avoided his gaze and looked at the floor instead. For people who were supposed to be lifelong enemies, we were way too close to each other.

After a long while, Leo finally let go of me and asked, “Whatcha got there?”

I blinked at him for a moment. “Oh, this?” I gestured at the book I was holding. “It’s just an old play.”

“Which one?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” I replied.

His eyes lit up with excitement. “That’s my favorite Shakespearean play!”

I was taken aback by his enthusiasm. “Well, I haven’t read it yet, so don’t spoil anything for me. Plus, I couldn’t get myself to fall asleep, so I figured that I might as well start reading it tonight.” I was suddenly embarrassed with how much I had just told him.

Leo lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you still have insomnia.”

“Mild insomnia,” I corrected him as I wrapped my robe tighter around my body. “Along with the stress of becoming queen in a week and having to choose a suitor.” I instantly regretted letting that detail slip out of my mouth. Leo’s expression showed concern. He opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him: “It’s alright, Leo. You don’t have to worry about me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I started to walk away from him, but then he grabbed my wrist. More exhausted than irritated, I turned to face him. “What is it, Leo?”

“Can I read with you?” He seemed somewhat nervous as he waited for my answer.

I stared at him, surprised that he would make such a request. Considering the fact that we weren’t supposed to be in the same room together (and that I didn’t exactly want to be in the same room with him), I was about to decline his offer. And yet, something was telling me that I shouldn’t turn him down. “Um. Sure, of course,” I managed to say.

Relieved, Leo led me to one of the sofas. He removed his coat and placed it on the table in front of the sofa. He took a seat, but I remained standing. “Rosie, don’t be shy. There’s space for both of us.” He patted the spot right next to him. Of all people, I had to sit beside my sworn enemy. After a moment I sat down, leaving enough legroom for both of us. Leo chuckled. “Oh, come on, Rosie. I don’t bite.” I was caught off-guard when he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me toward him. My head landed on his chest; I could hear his heart beating. I lifted my head to face him. “Leo-.”

“Hold on,” he said as he readjusted his position. His back was now against the arm of the sofa and his long legs almost covered the length of the seat. I hesitantly followed his lead, seating myself between his legs and letting my back rest against his torso. We were so close to each other; it reminded me of how we used to cuddle with each other when we were younger, especially whenever we would read together.

I was glad that he couldn’t see me blush.

“Alright, we can start now,” he said.

Before opening the book, I asked him, “Do you want to take turns reading lines?” I felt him nod. At this, I opened the book, turned to the Prologue, and began to read: “Two households, both alike in dignity,/In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,/From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,/Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean…”

Act III

”For never was a story of more woe/Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” I closed the book as Leo said the last lines of the play. I sighed, contemplating about what I had just read. “Wow,” I said. “That was…”

“The greatest love story of all time?” Leo asked.

I shook my head. “I was actually going to say depressing. I mean, Romeo and Juliet were meant to be together. But then they were torn apart by their families’ hate for each other.” I lowered my voice, almost to a whisper. “Then again, I guess their fate was inevitable.”

“Actually, I disagree,” Leo said.

I raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “How so?”

He removed his glasses and placed them on the table. “Well, in the end, Romeo and Juliet were reunited. You know that phrase they say in marriage: ‘till death do us part’?” I nodded. “That’s exactly what happened to them,” Leo continued. “Romeo and Juliet vowed to love each other until the very end, and they kept their promises. Even though their families tried to pull them apart, they still defied their fates. The two of them chose to be lovers until the end of their days. That’s why they’re called ‘Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers.’”

My eyes widened at his response. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds really beautiful.” Leo’s eyes brightened at my comment. “But,” I continued. “If they had just stayed away from each other, none of that drama would have happened. They would have suffered much less if they had ignored each other at the ball.”

“But would they really have been happy if they hadn’t given each other a chance? If they had simply walked away from each other just because of their families’ names?” Leo challenged.

I looked down, pondering about what he had just said. He isn’t talking about us, is he? I took a deep breath and finally managed to ask, “Why do I get the feeling that we’re not just talking about Romeo and Juliet?”

A sad smile crossed his face. “Rosalind.” He took my hands in his. I looked at him, surprised that he called me by my full name. I looked into his eyes, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. Leo raised his hand and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know.” His fingers lingered on a long piece of my dark hair.

I shook my head. “Everyone knows that our families hate each other.”

“Screw the old grudges,” Leo said defiantly. “Do you think I’d let some ancient fight keep us apart?”

“Actually, that’s exactly what’s keeping us apart, in case you didn’t remember.” I stood up and began to walk away from the sofa. I can’t let him see me like this: I need to get out of here now.

“No. Rosie, not you too.” Leo followed me, cutting off my path to the door. “Is that why you’re avoiding me? Or is it something else? Talk to me, please.”

He reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped out of his grasp. “You really want to know why I’m avoiding you?” I didn’t wait for his answer. “Because it sucks to be blamed for something my family didn’t do.” Leo opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him speak. “Because my family’s honor was destroyed eight years ago.” I raised my voice as I walked up to him, unleashing all the anger I had boiling inside of me. “Because I don’t know what to hate more: the fact that I’m a Granger or the fact that your family is the reason I had to leave the damn country.”

He stared at me, speechless. I balled my fists and looked into his eyes, preparing for his response. I expected him to yell back, to justify that he had more cause to be angry with me, to tell me he thought it served my family right to be blamed for his parents’ deaths.

Instead, he took a step forward, narrowing the gap between us. He gently took my fists into his hands. The gesture made my hands relax ever so slightly. “Rosalind. I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m sorry you had to go through that. For the record, I don’t believe that your family was responsible for my parents’ deaths.” He lowered his eyes, his gaze focusing on our hands. “I will admit that I haven’t forgiven the people who murdered my parents, but… Rosalind, you have no idea how much this has been killing me. I care about you and I’m tired of avoiding you simply because of our families’ names. I want to spend time with you without having to constantly check if anyone’s watching us. I want to tell you that I love you without having to worry that a Granger would probably rip out my throat for saying so. I want-.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Did you just say you love me?” This was happening way too quickly. I mean, this was the first time that we’ve talked in years. There was absolutely no way that he was confessing his love for me at this very moment. I slowly backed away from him, trying to figure out whether he was being serious or acting like the palace playboy I heard he had become.

Instead of giving me space, he gently grabbed my hand to prevent me from moving any farther. He used his other hand to move my chin so that I could face him. “Rosalind Granger,” he whispered. I shivered when he called me by my full name. He stared into my eyes with an expression I had never seen him use before. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. And ever since you went away, my love for you only grew stronger. I waited for you, hoping that you would one day recognize my feelings for you, despite what our families think of each other.”

~~~

I was speechless. I had no idea Leo felt this way about me. I mean, I was aware that he cared for me like a friend, or maybe even a brother, but as a lover? I never thought that day would come.

Noticing my state of shock, Leo quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I guess I couldn’t help myself. I completely understand if you don’t feel the same way.”

I couldn’t take it anymore; I wrapped my arms around Leo’s neck. “Leo Crawford, you idiot!” I said, tears streaming down my face. “Did you really think that I wanted to stay away from you for all those years? I only agreed to leave Wysteria in order to protect us from hurting each other.” I sniffled. “I’ve missed you so much. And I’m sorry I’ve been so horrible to you and Alyn ever since I came back to the palace.”

Leo stroked my hair as the tears poured out of my eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. Here, take this.” He broke out of our hug to give me a handkerchief from his shirt pocket.

I dabbed it around my eyes. “I was just scared that something horrible was going to happen if we saw each other again,” I confessed.

Leo shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Plus, you’re the princess now. I bet you could officially declare that the Crawfords and the Grangers are no longer permitted to be enemies.”

I chuckled. “I suppose you have a point.”

“And while we’re at it,” Leo added, “Why don’t we just start over again? Not as a Crawford and a Granger, but as Leo and Rosalind.”

I nodded. “I’d like that.”

He beamed at me. “Very well, then.” Leo extended a hand towards me. “The name’s Leo. It’s nice to meet you, Miss-?”

“Rosalind,” I said as I took his hand. “But you can call me ‘Rosie.’” We firmly shook hands as if we were meeting each other for the first time.

“Actually,” Leo said, pulling me closer. “‘Rosalind’ has a nice ring to it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re such a hothead,” he teased back.

Just then, the grandfather clock struck midnight. I jumped slightly at the noise, which prompted Leo to protectively place an arm around me. “I should probably get back to my room before someone realises that I’m gone,” I said after the chiming stopped.

Leo nodded as he put on his glasses and coat. “I can walk with you, if you’d like.”

I accepted his offer, and together, we tiptoed out of the library, leaving Romeo and Juliet on the table.

To be continued...

[fluxwire]

RWBY series Hogwarts sorting.

[WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS AIRED]

This… ended up a lot longer than I imagined. Anyway, I started writing this a while back so here you go! A sorting post of RWBY using @sortinghatchats sorting system. I highly recommend you read their overview post here to make sense of this longass analysis. But in case you go tl;dr on that your primary is why you do things, and your secondary is how you do it.

TEAM RWBY  ONLY (read under the cut)

I. Ruby

Our very young Ruby Rose is a Gryffindor primary. In fact, hers is the classic case of a Gryffindor hero - she wants to be a huntress because she wants to like the great heroes in fairy tales. She doesn't train to be a huntress because she values human life, she trains to be a huntress because she wants to save the day. And she sticks to this goal - she is adamant to the point of being comfortable in her ideals, never questioning the path she's chosen even as it gets difficult to trek.

Her Gryffindor secondary is seen in the way she charges into a battle, much like her semblance which is speed, she is quick and impulsive. While she seems to have adopted a more strategic style of combat when taking on bigger foes with her team, when left with her own devices, she charges without a second thought. You see this in the way she tries to speed her way out of Torchwick's hold, and in the way she tries to charge at Mercury in an attempt to escape. You even see this in the way she tries to convince Penny that it's alright for the Atlasian guards to see her and Penny together, because she doesn’t understand why there’s a need for them to be dishonest.

She's got a Ravenclaw secondary model, that really works well when she’s able to balance it with her Gryffindor Secondary. She has an extensive knowledge of weapons and she raves about them being extensions of a human. She uses her model to strategize group attacks. In ‘Players and Pieces’ when they take down the Nevermore, Ruby plans out their very first group attack and when she tells Weiss about her very flamboyant (and might I add, quite Gryffindor in nature) plan, Weiss comments, “of course you would come up with a plan like this.” Even when she’s planning, she doesn’t lose touch of her Gryffindor secondary for a single moment.

II. Weiss

Our dear snow princess is a Slytherin primary, which isn’t surprising considering how she was born into aristocracy. I know people will say that her leaving her family to train as a huntress doesn’t seem like Slytherin move, but Weiss’ loyalty is to the Schnee family name. Not necessarily to the members of the family itself (as you can see by the way she avoids her father), but much of Weiss’ motivations and actions are related to the Schnee family name and its preservation.

In ‘The Shining Beacon’, she gets furious over Ruby hitting her suitcases full of Schnee Dust by the Schnee Dust Company. In ‘The Stray’, when she fights with her teammate Blake over her views of the White Fang and Faunus, her defense is rooted in the violence the Schnee family name has received from the White Fang. When she and Blake make up in the episode after, Weiss decides she doesn’t need to hear Blake’s winded explanation about the White Fang because Blake’s part of her inner circle now and it doesn’t matter what crimes she’s committed in the past.

In ‘Mountain Glenn’, when team RWBY sans Ruby discuss why they actually became huntresses, Weiss says she knows that her family’s company has done terrible things and feels responsible to make up for it. She wants to make things right, not necessarily because it needs to be right but because it’s her family name who has done wrong. If she were a Gryffindor, she would’ve dropped her family name immediately.

She’s ambitious and wants to be the leader of the team right off the bat, she befriends Pyrrha with the idea of  “getting good grades and ruling the school.” I think it’s pretty safe to say that she’s Slytherin primary through and through.

Weiss’ secondary on the other hand is a nice Ravenclaw secondary. What’s interesting about RWBY is a lot of their semblances and combat styles reflect their personalities, and by extension, their houses. Weiss’ semblance are her glyphs which she can use as launchers, accelerators, etc. Her semblance allows her to plan out her moves during a fight just a little in advance.

Weiss is also a constant perfectionist. At the start of the series you hear her constantly reminding herself before combat, “You can do this Weiss, remember your training,” and proceeds to correct her posture down to the very last inch before striking. And before the Vytal Festival, she drags the team to the docks so she can spy on the competition and learn their skills beforehand. Weiss plans in a similar way Hermione’s Ravenclaw secondary does.

III. Blake

Blake’s a Stripped Gryffindor primary. In fact, Blake’s primary had already started stripping long before the series started.

In Black and White, Blake explains that when the new administration of the White Fang had started organizing attacks, Blake realized that although they were being treated as equals it wasn’t out of respect but out of fear. Being a Gryffindor primary, she had an idealistic vision of achieving equality without causing more violence, and upon seeing that violent methods could ironically give them a better position in society, her purpose for fighting and her moral compass end up clashing with each other. She decides that her vision doesn’t involve inflicting violence upon others and leaves the White Fang (or more accurately, runs away from the White Fang.)

Blake even details that her semblance mirrors how she always runs away from conflict and judging by her recent visit to her family, she probably ran away from them too. This is extremely common for Stripped Gryffindors because even though Blake knows what the “right thing to do is”, she’s not sure if she can keep doing the right thing anymore, even if she wants to. When she doesn’t run away and feels the need to charge, like in Welcome to Beacon and Extracurricular, she is visibly out of control. She doesn’t eat, sleep, or try to socialize with any of her members because all she can think of is that she should be doing something about it, even though she knows she can’t.

As for her secondary, I’m sorry to say that I haven’t pinned this down yet. I’m thinking she’s likely to be an improvisational house which would either make her Slytherin or Gryffindor. I’m a bit more inclined to believe she’s Slytherin secondary. Do message me if you have any ideas?

IV. Yang

Finally! The last member of Team Ruby. Yang Xiao Long, like Weiss Schnee, is a Slytherin primary. I knew right off the bat Yang was a loyalist house. I originally sorted her as Hufflepuff primary because of her sociability, the instances she’s shown compassion towards the Faunus, and her willingness to give Blake the benefit of the doubt when they found out she was from the White Fang. But upon looking closely at her character, it’s pretty easy to see that Yang really only cares about a few things: her hair, her sister and family, and her team. These are things she considers hers, which is classic Slytherin.

Unlike Weiss who is visibly selective of people she befriends, Yang is generally friendly to everyone, as seen in ‘Shining Beacon Pt. 2’. However, this doesn’t mean that Yang doesn’t have an inner circle. Yang simply doesn’t treat anyone any nicer or meaner compared to how fiercely caring she is of her sister Ruby, exhibiting lots of patience to help her - patience which at that point of the series did not extend to Blake just yet as seen when Yang tells Ruby to leave because Blake is a “lost cause”. As the series progresses however, we see Yang expanding her inner circle to include her teammates, with Yang going as far as sharing her personal story about her quest to find her mother to calm Blake down.

Yang isn’t necessarily as ambitious as Weiss career-wise, but she is just as competitive over things she has interest in. She gets pissed over losing at a board game, she jokingly insults her uncle when she beats him at video games. She’s confident of her looks and skills and is not afraid to boast.

Yang’s secondary is obviously Gryffindor. She’s brazen and outspoken and appears to enjoy thrill-seeking. I’m thinking she probably resembles the Weasley twins when it comes to surface level personality.

Much like the rest of team RWBY (sans Blake) her combat style resembles her secondary house. Yang charges through everything. Her father points out in ‘Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back’ that in combat, she’s extremely predictable. This is because her secondary is inherently not a situational one like the Slytherin secondary. She doesn’t adapt, she charges head first. Her semblance is also plenty inspirational in nature. Being able to draw strength from every hit she gets is a pretty good metaphor for how Gryffindors often take hits they don’t even need to take to win a battle because they’re charging without thinking, but winning after looking badly beaten gives hope to the “underdogs.”

In ‘Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back’ Yang starts to show signs of building what might be a Slytherin or Ravenclaw secondary model/performance, so that’ll be something to look forward to!

SEMI-FINAL SORTINGS:

Ruby Rose: Gryffindor Primary, Gryffindor Secondary with Ravenclaw Secondary Model.

Weiss Schnee: Slytherin Primary, Ravenclaw Secondary

Blake Belladonna: Gryffindor Primary, undecided secondary (most likely Slytherin or Gryffindor)

Yang Xiao Long: Slytherin Primary, Gryffindor Secondary

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This is the true account of what happened and it made me uncomfortable to write, even after all this time. It stirred up a lot of bad memories, but if it helps one person then it was worth it. I'm sorry if it's a bit wordy!For a long time now, I’ve had a favourite saying; “It’s not a failure as long as you’ve learnt something”.Well, I’m now thirty-five, and I’ve already learnt a lot. I’m going to share some of what I’ve learnt with you. I’m not doing this to preach, or even instruct. I’m doing it for myself, and for anyone that might come across this article on the back of a recent setback. I need to give you a bit of background first, so I'm sorry if this goes on a bit!In 2002, after completing a two-year programming course at college, I took a year out from education and started working in a local art gallery. I’d work all week, mostly in sales, enjoying the feeling of having money in my pocket and being able to go out at the weekends. The twelve months passed quickly, and it was soon time to leave for university.I lasted three months.The course was dull and in no way challenging. I kept thinking about how much I missed my girlfriend, and how much I’d enjoyed my job. Making a big sale gave me such a rush, and here I was, sitting through stuffy old lectures. I jacked it all in and returned home, to my old job. But it wasn’t going to last, I’d woken a powerful desire for finding new challenges.Six months after returning home, in May 2002, I decided to start my own business. Having experience working in an art gallery, it seemed like the ideal industry to start in. It was the easiest option.I found a tatty old shop in a neighbouring town and set about renovating it myself. We covered everything in wallpaper and filler, and it didn’t look too bad when we’d finished. I’d already managed to get a £6,000 loan from the bank which I spent on stock and a few shop fittings.I’d opened the doors by the end of May, but I didn’t really know what I was doing. I had no business plan, marketing plan, cash flow forecast or operational budget. I didn’t have any staff and was working seven days a week.Despite this, I had a reasonably successful first year’s trading. My best month was about £6500, and our margin was over 50% so this was good for a new business being run by an inexperienced, ill-prepared and over-confident twenty-year-old. But it didn’t last, many of my customers started buying from online galleries. My quiet months starting eating all the money I made in the busy months. I was earning a lot less than minimum wage, and it was impossible to take time off.It was around this time that I decided I wanted the enterprise to be larger. I wanted to up my game, to start selling art for thousands instead of hundreds. I needed more. I would be able to pay myself more money, take on staff and not have to be hands on all the time.I started talking to my suppliers about my plans and they thought it was a marvellous idea (of course they did!). I found a space I liked, and despite expert advice that it was in a low footfall area, I signed the lease. Somehow, I managed to convince the bank to lend me another £20,000 (still without a business plan!).Eighteen months after opening my first gallery, I opened my second. It was four times the size of the first one, with overheads to match. It makes me cringe to think about it now. I had a grand opening with bubbly and nibbles, the week before Christmas. Almost immediately, it became apparent that I should have taken the expert’s advice. I was only a few metres from the high street but it might as well have been miles. I started ordering ridiculously priced full-page ads in glossy magazines and advertising on bus stops trying to raise awareness of my gallery. I dropped 10,000 leaflets to newly built houses and advertised on local radio.To be fair, I had some awesome weeks. I’d sell thousands of pounds worth of art to just a handful of customers. But then I wouldn’t make another sale for days. It was depressing.Six months later, I closed my first gallery (just two years after opening), to concentrate on the new one. I'd neglected the first gallery (the one that was breaking even) to spend more time on the new one.Things went from bad to worse when I figured out that I hadn’t made enough money to cover my third quarter rent payment, so I went back to the bank, but they turned me down for another loan. To be fair, I was already into them for £31,000 at this point. Seeing the fix I was in, my father offered to lend my £20,000, which I gladly accepted (he didn’t have this money, he took out a loan to cover it).I know what you’re thinking. Why did you pour more money into the hole? I can’t really answer that, I just felt I had already committed so much that I couldn’t walk away. Also, I was twenty-one and thought I knew better than everyone else.This is where things get crazy. I didn’t change anything; I just carried on as before, hoping against hope that the situation would resolve itself.The money lasted six months; I managed to stay open until Christmas, hoping that a decent festive season would allow me to hang on a bit longer. But I failed to make nearly enough sales and closed my doors for the last time on Christmas Eve (just over a year after opening).I was 21, with over £50,000 of debt, £20,000 of that was owed to my father. I had four years left on my lease, at a cost of £15,000 a year. I hadn’t made any plans for this outcome and I didn’t have any idea about what to do.My landlord took pity on me, and let me walk out of the lease, but the repayments on my loans were close to £900 a month. The day after I closed my business, I rang an employment agency and landed a shift job in a local factory. Within a week, I’d gone from art gallery entrepreneur to working on a production line in a factory. I started doing a lot of overtime, often doing six twelve-hours in a row, have one off, and then do another six days. It was mind numbing work, but I was overpaying my loans and keeping my head above water.My confidence had taken a serious hit and my credit rating was in the toilet. I did two years in the factory, always doing overtime and odd jobs on the side. It was a pretty grim part of my life. I drank too much and was smoking twenty cigarettes a day. Nearly everything I earned was used to repay my debts, and I was constantly exhausted. I blamed everyone but myself for my situation. It was pitiful.The pain of my failure gradually started to recede, and my confidence gradually began to return. I felt that old desire for a challenge. I thought about starting several different ventures, but I was still a shadow of my former self, and still had a fair bit of debt. I was quite lost for a while until one day I walked into an Armed Forces Careers Office.The recruiting staff can spot lost souls a mile off, they’re trained for it and they gobbled me up. I’d already decided I wasn’t a good fit for the Army, and I didn’t fancy long spells at sea, so the RAF seemed like the natural choice. I breezed through the application process, and at twenty-four, I left for basic training.Basic training and technical training were a challenge, both mentally and physically. After completing nearly 18 months of training, The RAF had given me my confidence back, and made me fit and healthy in the process. I was ready for my first posting.It didn’t go to plan. After all the training, I was given a job answering a phone and watching a screen for three years. I stuck it out, paying off the last of my debts and starting to experiment with entrepreneurial ideas. A lot of ideas came and went, most of them nothing more than dreams. The point is, I had come full circle back to the idea of making my own way in the world.I eventually got out of the RAF and got back into running my own business. Ive been running the business for six years and it’s still going strong. Our turnover is growing, and we have a variety of projects in the pipeline to grow our business further. We’ve diversified and added complimentary income streams. We’ve built up some equity and improved the freehold building a lot over the time we’ve owned it. We’ve made it work. But that doesn’t mean there haven’t been more lessons to learn.Over the years I’ve also tried subscription boxes, being an Amazon seller, self-publishing a novel, three separate e-commerce stores and a host of other weird and wonderful ideas, including farming oyster mushrooms (what was I thinking??).So, what did I learn from my failed art gallery business? Remember it cost me over £50,000 so it taught me a lot!Don’t take the easy option. I didn’t open an art gallery because I saw a gap in the market; I did it because it was the easiest way to start a business.Make a plan. I came unstuck because I’d spent no time thinking about my business plan. I just did it and hoped for the best. Remember, "build it and they will come" is not a business plan.Start small and test the water. I did this to a certain extent, but one of my biggest mistakes was trying to be something greater than I was. I should have experimented more. I could have traded from a market stall or tried to share a space with a complimentary business.Listen to the experts. Someone with experience told me that my gallery was too far from the high street and had too little footfall. I didn’t listen, and it cost me my business. I should have taken a smaller space in a busier location.It’s NEVER too late to walk away. If I’d admitted to making a mistake earlier, I could have saved myself a lot of money. If you try something and it’s not working, then either change what you’re doing or drop it. Don’t just keep pouring money and time into something that you know is never really going to work.Limit your liability. Make sure that if everything goes wrong, you don’t end up saddled with debt. I should have been trading as a limited company and I should have insisted on a 1 year break clause in my lease. I should have tried to get as much of my stock on consignment.So what’s the point of all of this?I wanted to let you know that I’ve taken some pretty big knocks on my entrepreneurial journey. But they’ve all taught me something, and I try to apply those lessons to my next venture. So if your first, or tenth, business isn't successful, don't give up. Learn what you can from the experience and move on.I won’t stop testing out new business ideas, and I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. I’m certain at least some of these ideas will turn into more “lessons” but that’s how we grow.And besides, I’m a slow learner...