#who are you to deny the passenger princess his rightful throne?

[hawkwidows]

I know the idea of mike telling people off if they try and call shotgun for his car bc that’s will’s seat has been discussed but I think the thought of will being visibly offended someone would attempt to sit in the passenger seat when he’s right there, is equally as funny

[svtwish]

♡ ; junhui | animosity (i.)

a/n: this was originally supposed to be only one part, but the plot was a little too long so i split it into two. this part is honestly pretty dry but i promise part 2 will be more interesting!!! oof i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it ((: (i’ll get back to requests asap i just needed to write something for my bby)

≫ words; 2582

≫ genre; fluff

≫ au; royalty!au

≫ pairing; prince!junhui x fem!reader

↳ in which you’re supposed to get married but you hate each others’ guts so your parents have no choice but to interfere.

Junhui loved everyone, and everyone loved him. He’d never fail to give friendly smiles to the servants who worked in the palace, and bring colour to the townspeople’s monochrome lives with his odd sense of humour whenever he paid visits to the local market. He didn’t just have a pretty face; he had an amazing personality and top-notch manners to top it all off.

Jun also loved his parents. He deeply respected the King and Queen for ruling the country so brilliantly and bringing the country wealth and prosperity as well as happiness; a feat he doubted he would be able to do. He loved his mother and father for giving birth to him and showing him so many things he’d never known before.

What the second prince didn’t love, however, was the fact that he was denied of the freedom to choose his spouse.

He recalled being summoned into the throne room many years ago, when he was still a young boy ignorant of the world and the many problems around him. His father — the King — broke it to him that he’d have to marry a Princess from one of the neighbouring kingdoms. It was something about maintaining peace with the kingdom to avoid war; Junhui didn’t really understand at that time. He shrugged the news off, treating it as another piece of information he didn’t really understand.

It was only after he grew a little older and developed a crush on one of his classmates that he realised the true impact of his arranged marriage. He would’t be able to marry anyone he fell in love with, unless it was, well, the person he was supposed to marry. He grew to despise the idea of having someone choosing for him; especially when it was the person he’d have to spend his entire life with.

He grew to despise the idea of having to marry a Princess from a neighbouring kingdom; the idea of marrying you.

At one point, Junhui’s mother thought it’d be a good idea for him and his “future wife” to meet. He was only nine at that time, but he really didn’t want to see you. Or talk to you. Or play with you.

Unfortunately, your mother happily agreed to the idea of you going on a playdate with Jun.

So the two of you were pushed together, left alone to your own devices in a random room in Junhui’s castle as your mothers went off for high tea.

The boy crossed his arms and strode over to one of the corners of the room, sticking his tongue out at you. “I don’t want to play with you.”

You huffed in response, stomping your way to the corner right opposite his. “Me neither!”

“I don’t want to marry you,” the second Prince announced, throwing a sharp glare at you.

“You think I’d want to marry you?” You rolled your eyes, glaring right back at him. “Who would want to marry a stinky brat like you, anyway?”

“I am not a stinky brat!” He shouted, balling his hands into fists. “You’re the stinky bimbo! I don’t need a dumb princess as my wife!”

The next hour continued that way, the both of you throwing insults at each other with no mercy. It ended with you crying and Jun on the verge of doing so; the only reason why you hadn’t had a physical fight yet was because the two Queens rushed into the room just in time to stop things from getting worse.

Your first meeting only fuelled your hate towards each other, and your reluctance to get married to the other.

You both felt this animosity towards each other; it was unspoken, but everyone knew.

Ever since then, it became Junhui’s tradition to feign sickness on the nights your kingdom held special events, and vice-versa. Heck, it didn’t even need to be an event your castle held. It could be any event; as long as the boy heard you were going to attend, he’d make it his mission to miss out on it. It was the same for you.

Both your parents were getting sick and tired of your childish game.

In fact, it wasn’t just Jun’s parents; his servant and close friend, Minghao, was getting irritated as well.

“I’m not feeling well, Hao. I think I’ll skip this one,” Jun said, sinking comfortably into the sheets of his luxurious queen-sized bed.

Minghao let out a tired sigh, pinching his nose bridge. “Look, just quit it already,” he groaned, glaring at the prince. “There’s no escaping the fact that you’ll be married one day, so you might as well just face her now.”

Jun frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together. “After that horrendous first meeting? No thanks, I’d like to avoid talking to that rude girl for as long as possible.”

“You were just as rude, Junhui.”

The said prince let out a frustrated sigh, sitting up on his elbows to look at his servant, who was leaning against the door to his grand room. “I don’t want to meet her yet, okay? It just sucks that I have to be forced into this. And she clearly doesn’t want to meet me either, considering how she hasn’t been turning up for our events despite the invitations.”

Minghao mumbled a yes, your majesty before leaving the room, feeling extremely ticked-off.

Junhui sighed and threw himself back onto the pillow, praying he wouldn’t meet you anytime soon.

“Y/N! Get up and start packing,” you woke up to the sound of your mother’s high-pitched voice. “We’re going for a diplomatic meeting in a neighbouring kingdom.”

Still blinking your sleep away, you frowned. “Why do I have to go?”

“You’re nineteen, Y/N. It’s about time you got some first-hand insight on how things work to add on to your knowledge.” Your mother rummaged through your drawers and pulled out a white suitcase. “No more objections. We’re leaving in two hours.”

“Wait — how long are we staying there?” You rubbed your eyes, trying your hardest to suppress a yawn.

“Seven days, six nights.”

Now you were fully awake. “What the hell are we staying so long for? A vacation?”

“Language.”

With that, the Queen exited your dwelling, leaving you to pack one week’s worth of clothes and get ready for a royal meeting in two hours.

You groaned, finally kicking the sheets off you and stepping out of your bed. It’s going to be a long week.

The royal butler helped load your now full suitcase into the back of the car. You thanked him with a small smile before climbing into the black car and inserting yourself into the corner, leaning against the window. Your mother slid in next to you, immediately criticising your choice of dress. It was a long, light blue gown, and not as fancy as your mother would’ve liked. After all, it was just another diplomatic meeting — it’s not like you were going to impress someone.

“You should’ve worn the yellow one I got you the other day,” she chided, tearing your body away from the corner and making you face her. “You hair is a mess! You should’ve at least dried it!”

“You gave me two hours to pack for a week-long trip and to get ready, Mother,” you mumbled, sighing as she turned you around once again and worked her skilled hands along your hair to try and straighten the tangled strands.

“A princess must always look presentable, regardless of how long she is given to prepare,” your mother started lecturing you as the car started. “Especially when she is about to meet people from other kingdoms.”

Nodding your head emotionlessly, you blocked the rest of her lecture out, returning back to your corner when she was done trying to make you look a bit more presentable. When she was finally done chattering about her mother and the beatings she had to endure because she wasn’t up to standard, you asked, “Which kingdom are we going to?”

The Queen smiled, an excited look passing through her eyes. “You’ll see.”

You were busy napping for about ninety-percent of the ride to the oh, so exciting kingdom named ’You’ll See’ , so you didn’t realise the roads that were taken were the ones that led to a horrid memory you couldn’t erase.

It only dawned on you on exactly whose kingdom you were in when your eyes blinked open as you arrived at the castle front.

Immediately, you shot awake, any remnants of sleep instantly disappearing as you looked around, not truly believing where you’d arrived.

“Mother,” you gulped, turning to face the woman who wore a pleased expression on her face. “Isn’t this — Junhui’s—”

The said woman beamed as the car halted and the passenger door swung open. “Yes.” She stepped out of the black vehicle just as the door on your side jerked open, making your heart fill with dread.

Oh, dear lord, please help me.

You gingerly got out of the car, hastily wiping away the drool that was on your cheek. Hurrying to join your mother’s side,  you tried your best to straighten your slightly crumpled dress as she stepped in front of the doors, holding onto her purse.

Please, don’t open.

Much to your dismay, the grand double doors creaked open, revealing a —

Whoa.

You couldn’t help it when your eyes widened, taking in the sight in front of you. He was barely recognisable — half of his fringe was gelled up, and he stood devastatingly tall in a full suit, completed with a tie. Gone were his features that you’d criticised ten years ago— they were replaced by lips, eyes and a nose that were nothing short of perfect.

Wen Junhui looked gorgeous.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes running up and down your figure. His mind was reeling, wondering as to why you were here, why his mother hadn’t given him a warning beforehand, and how you managed to look so stunning when he remembered insulting your bugs-bunny teeth in that damned room a decade ago.

If he were being very honest, Jun wanted nothing more than to stare at you all day and get to know you better over a cup of tea; perhaps even apologise for the snarky comments he’d made about your behaviour and appearance all those years ago. If he had known you’d transform into this beautiful girl, he would’ve treated you like a queen.

In that moment, he was more than grateful that you were going to be his wife.

Then he recalled your mean comments and constant death glares directed at him; Jun had to stop himself from pushing you out of the castle as the feeling of awe and wonder disappeared as quickly as it came.

A nudge from his mother reminded him where he was and what he was supposed to do, so he stepped forward to take your hand, pressing a light kiss onto the back of it. “Welcome,” he greeted with a charming smile, letting your hand go. Your breath caught in your throat when you realised just how more alluring he was up close, but you recovered quickly, turning the ends of your lips upwards to thank him with a small curtsy.

Your mothers exchanged hugs, and Junhui took a small step back from you. The silence was awkward as you fiddled with your dress, suddenly wishing you were wearing something fancier.

Once the two Queens had finished with their small reunion, a servant with cute elf-like ears led the four of you to the meeting room. You noticed how Junhui glared at the poor servant, and how the servant constantly shot the second prince apologetic smiles, mouthing something along the lines of listen, there’s more coming up.

Suppressing a yawn, you took your seat at the round table, bowing to the King. Junhui took his seat next to yours, clearly uncomfortable, as seen from how straight his back was.

The meeting went by depressingly slow, and you had half a mind to excuse yourself to the toilet and stay there till the meeting was over. Jun himself seemed to be dozing off, if not for the fact that his mother was constantly nudging him under the table, preventing him from falling asleep. You weren’t quite sure what the learning objective of the two-hour long discussion was, other than a. Junhui’s father was a terribly long-winded man and b. his servant with the cute ears went by the name of Minghao.

It finally came to an end when the King cleared his throat, announcing that he was to attend yet another meeting in about an hour, and that everyone was now dismissed. You stood up a little too excitedly, stretching your numb limbs after being in the same position for so long, eager to go home.

“Princess Y/N,” Minghao started, lowering his head politely, “Our butlers have already unloaded your luggage. I’ll take you to your room, unless you’d like Prince Junhui to?”

At that, your jaw slackened, the surprise evident in your face. You completely forgot that you’d be staying for a whole week. Blinking as you tried your best to wipe the shock off your features, you were about to answer him when Jun interrupted.

“What do you mean, take her to her room?” The disbelief was etched into his voice as he rose from his seat, walking towards you and Minghao. The servant watched as the taller Prince came to a stop beside you, the height difference between you two making you feel incredibly small.

“Our dear Y/N will be staying over for a week, Junhui,” the Prince’s mother explained, looking between the three of you with a disgustingly sweet smile. It made you want to puke as you took note of how forced it was.

“I wasn’t told of this,” the said Prince argued, clearly angry.

“That’s because you would’ve been completely against it, dear,” the woman’s smile stretched across her face as she gestured towards you. “How about you take Y/N to her room? It’s the one next to yours.”

Junhui looked like he was about to punch the living lights out of his mother before he caught his father shooting him a stern glare. Turning his head away, he sighed in resignation as he regarded you, the hate still evident in his eyes. It made you wince a little.

“Wait — then where’s my mother staying?” You asked, suddenly coming to realise that your mother hadn’t said a thing since the whole affair had started.

You shifted your gaze away from Jun’s and to where your mother was standing. She was visibly avoiding eye contact, and you could read her like an open book. She fidgeted nervously, guilt evident from her body language. The room was eerily quiet as everyone watched the mother and daughter.

She’s not even staying. Your confused eyes turned into furious ones as you tore your eyes from her figure, choosing to glare at the carefully polished tiles beneath you. She lied to me.

“Let’s just go,” you mumbled under your breath, knowing that you were inevitably acting like a spoilt brat in front of not only your mother, but in front of another kingdom’s King and Queen.

And your future husband.

Junhui seemed to catch what you said, leading you out of the tense meeting room as the both of you tried to brace yourself for the sure-unpleasant week to come.

[annamcnuff]

The 50th State: Hawaii

Ah Hawaii. Islands of the sea. Land of the Hukilau cafe. Home to Polynesian princess’, pineapples and palm trees. And more importantly, the 50th state… A BUMPY START Finally sat on a plane at Dallas Fort Worth airport, I was overcome with relief, and also rather aware that we’d been stationary at the gate for quite some time. The pilot aka ‘DJ Wings McGee’ came on the tannoy. His soothing words were to the effect of 'A part of a plane isn’t working. In fact, we’re concerned it’s missing entirely. We just need to make sure everything’s 'OK’ before taking you up to 30,000ft and letting you plunge to your death.“ I couldn’t help but marvel at such a flawless execution of customer care - DJ McGee clearly missed the training memo about ignorance being bliss. To cut a long story short, I disembarked. The flight was cancelled and I was moved to another. The only casualty of the debacle being… Boudica. As I waited for her beautifully decorated pink gaffa taped cardboard box to appear in the oversized section at Honolulu, it dawned - she was AWOL. Amidst the kerfuffle in Dallas, someone had left her behind (so much for my detailed marker pen box instructions to 'treat her like a lady’). Of course, I was never too worried, you’ve gotta keep the faith after all, and within two days she was safely back in my possession. I don’t need Ms Morisette to tell me how losing Boudica en route the 50th state would have been mildly ironic. "It’s like cycliiiinngggg, 49-states-and-losing-your-bike-on-the-plane…” Boudica, with high hopes of not getting left behind at Dallas, and instructions to treat her like a lady MOUNT HALEAKALA Way back in the heat of the Reno desert, when Hawaii was just a distant dream, a wise man named JP foretold of a mystical volcano on the Island of Maui, called Mount Haleakala. It was also foretold-er-ed that it was the longest, steepest paved road ascent in the world. Considering I was on the hunt for a special little sumthin-sumthin to round off the trip, that sounded perfect. So I floated the idea to my travel agent (AKA - Mum), and the plan was set - we’d nip to the island of Maui, and take on Haleakala. Seeing as though my Dad was a) Going to be in Hawaii too and b) Loves destroying mind and body as much as I do, it was only fair that he join me on the climb. And, seeing as though he wasn’t going to be bringing his very own Pink ten-ton beast to the pedal party, I opted to leave Boudica behind on Oahu, and hire a little carbon number instead. She was Blue. She was beautiful. And I named her Wanda. I’ll level with you, frightening as it sounds to ride from sea level to 10,023 ft in one go, Haleakala isn’t the hardest climb I’ve ever done. Far from it. The gradient is steady, the road is smooth, there are switchbacks to break up the slog and when you have a support car, you don’t even need to carry the many layers of kit required. But I’ll be darned if it’s not spectacularly unique. For a start, the climb takes you through 4 micro climates. And because the gradient is so steady, rather than splitting time equally between staring at the front wheel and trying to relocate your weaker lung, you actually get a rare chance to take it all in. Usually when making the dizzy heights of 10,000 ft you’re surrounded by other mountains. So whilst the vista is a guaranteed spectacular, it’s largely comprised of neighbouring peaks. From the top of Haleakala all you can see is Maui. The whole of it. From one end to the other, and all the way across. Your eye line is spattered with views of the cinder desert landscape, the reef below, the offshore Molokini crater, lush green fields and endless delicate whisps of cloud - suspended as if someone hurridly dismantled an oversized candy floss and just… left it there. Reaching the top of Haleakala is pretty much the closest you’ll ever get to flying (well, aside from jumping off of the sofa, holding a Tesco bag above your head when you were seven. Just me? Oh, right, I see.) I’m not a huge fan of descending. In fact, my level of fanship for the descent is on a par with my level of fanship for Justin Bieber. Suffice it to say, I would gladly never cycle down another hill in my entire life. But apparently old Isie Newton screwed me over way back when, and what goes up must come down. So down I went. Now I know the textbook du cycling says that you’re not supposed to brake whilst descending, but whatevs, I’m a braker. My Name’s Anna McNuff, and I’m addicted to braking. My Dad’s a braker too, I come from a family of brakers. It’s not my fault. And when you’re a braker, 90 minutes of downhill can take it’s toll. Halfway down, my forearms began to look like Popeye’s, my teeth had just about ground down to the gums and and both hands were stuck firmly in 'the claw’ position. By the bottom I had no forearms. Nor gums. Nor hands. THE DRIVE OF DEATH Having seen Maui from on high, it was decided that we should do a little ground level exploring the following day. Within 30 minutes of setting off on a 'short drive’, we were accidentally taking the scenic route to a town called Hana. That is, 30 miles of winding cliff top highway, with a speed limit of 10mph. Granted, it was incredibly beautiful - jutting in and out of tropical forests, past waterfalls, over tiny bridges and with ample opportunity to stop at ocean lookouts. Following a stop for a hike up to a waterfall, the options to get home were either a 3 hour drive back the way we came, or via a more direct 'category B’ road. Considering I was feeling rather car sick by this point, and firmly parked at chunder-junction, I requested that we take the direct route. After all, how B road, can a B road be? On Maui the answer is beyond B. So B-esc that I wouldn’t wish this road on anyone other than Indiana Jones. And possibly James Bond. After a few miles of tarmac, it turned to single track gravel. If you’d be so kind as to lend me a moment, I’d like to place you in the back seat of that car: Jostling around from side to side as if in a Star Tours simulator, with Mummy McNuff (who has a fear of heights) at the wheel. Driving an automatic, oversized SUV, on the wrong side of the road (yes this still matters in a single track). Round sharply banked corners, a sheer drop to the ocean on one side, and rough falling rocks on the other. Watching Dad in the passenger seat grip the door handle and utter soothing comments to an almost silent and shaking Mother Bear, as you try not to vomit for a further 2 hours. It was so frightening, that at one point I opened the window - thinking 'Well if we plunge off the edge here, at least I have a way out’. Then I started wondering how I’d get Mum and Dad out too … Credit where credit’s due. Rally driver Snr Sue McNuff did well. And we actually make it home in one piece, just as the sun went down. A 'relaxing drive’ my eye… THE DOLE PINEAPPLE PLANTATION There are many great unanswered questions in this world. Like, have you ever seen a baby pigeon? What happened to the cheerleading twins from Fun House and why is Floo powder not yet viable method of transportation? Yet, until now there was one huge philosophical consideration that had escaped the wanderings of my mind - how do Pineapples grow? Stop. Let it wash over you… There we go. You’ll now have found yourself in one of three camps: Camp A) “Err duh. (rolls eyes). In the ground, of course” Camp B) “Psssshh don’t be so silly, they grow on trees.” Camp C) You know the truth. Which is of course that they grow in a bush. Sort of like a Fruit-Fugees, hiding from the outside world, nestled between leafy splays of gigantic grass. And, I don’t want to blow your mind too much, but there’s more than one type. I tell you this from a throne of authority, having visited an enormous pineapple plantation on Northern Oahu. I’d love to relay how I spent hours learning about the humble pineapple. That it was my sole motive to go there and fill my brain with fruity facts. Alas - I heard that they had the best Pinapple ice cream in all of Earth-land. So I simply went to fill my belly, and learn a little bit on the side. The DoleWhip pinapple cone was more than worth the trip. The Pineapple revelation, a bonus. WAIKIKI BEACH The hard work (and a final ride on Boudica) done, I spent the rest of my time in Hawaii relaxing. I went snorkelling, which reminded me how much I missed swimming. I lay on a beach, which reminded me how much I missed sitting still (not much). And I drunk cocktails, which reminded me how much alcohol I’d consumed in the past 7 months (again, not much). Waikiki itself is a tourist trap, there’s no denying it - but I loved it. Unlike many busy tourists strips around the globe, at Waikiki there were a distinct lack of Pikies (American readers, you might have to urban dictionary that one). There were no lobster sunburnt, beer swilling, projectile vomiting, fishbowl fuelled louts with made in England tattoos across their shoulders and gold caps on their teeth. There were simply contented individuals, enjoying 24 hour paradise, a warm sea and a civilised Mai Tai or two at sunset. If I’m not allowed to be a snob in my last week, when am I. THE FINAL COUNTDOWN I can’t believe we’ve made it to this point, Five-O gang. If you’ll stick with me for one last week, as I squirm my way through jet lag and the return to normality, I’d like to write you all a final post. A comment on the trip as a whole - what I’ve learnt (about me and about others), the highs, the lows, and where I go from here. I promise not to get heavy on your asses, but I do promise to be honest. And who knows, I might even be humorous. This week"s pictures are up on Flickr here Until then, 50 high fives to you all for each and every state, Anna :)