#so I thought of a fitting slightly ominous message and the rest is history

[atompalace-official]

[spiltscribbles]

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

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You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

.-

“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

.-

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

.-

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

.-

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[anika-ann]

3+1 (Un)Wanted Mistletoe Encounters

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 4200

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary:  Kissing under the mistletoe is one of the most famous Christmas traditions; so obviously, it is not Christmas without it at the Tower.

Unfortunately for the occupants, you are not fond of the tradition – at all. 

...or are you?

Warnings: cliché trope, pushy Pietro, discussion of dub-con I guess, language, fluff

A/N: Idea born from this video where John Mulaney says: “If any decoration needs to be MeToo’ed…” and goes on.

Beatiful divider by firefly-graphics

1.

You were no Grinch.

In fact, you actually liked Christmas and the Holiday season, you enjoyed both giving and receiving and you appreciated when people found time to spend it together, whether in their own family circle or with their chosen one.

But. There was one significant ‘but’.

And with this being your first Christmas with the Avengers, Sam Wilson was about to learn about the said but first-hand, because that sweet kind-hearted dumbass with a sass streak walked right into it.

Quite literally.

December 23th, you woke up well-rested, got breakfast, wrapped several presents and were on your way to hunt down a lunch in the communal kitchen, when a voice stopped you in the doorway, where you nearly ran into Sam. Nearly.

“Ah-oh,” he hummed, a shit-eating grin spreading on his handsome face and you stopped dead in your tracks, frowning at the ominous sound.

“What?”

And then came the fateful words: “You’re standing under a mistletoe.”

You see, here was a thing; the tradition of hanging a mistletoe and meeting people under it by chance as an excuse to get a kiss from someone was… stupid. Downright idiotic. Pushing people into something they didn’t have a chance to back out from. Forced affection.

Yeah, that was not happening even if Sam was a real swell guy and you did find a newly hung mistletoe above your heads indeed as you briefly looked up to check if his words were true.

“Okay. And?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, his tone turning slightly wavering.

“…And so am I?”

“And?” you continued, crossing your arms on your chest defensively, already preparing a rant that would hopefully spread like wildfire and ended this dumb tradition altogether. Or well, at least spread around the Tower so no one would ever try to corner you again.

“Really?” Sam deadpanned and you stared right back at him, your face probably displaying precisely how you felt; unimpressed.

“Yes, really,” you emphasized and pointed up at the offensive plant for a good measure. “This is a stupid concept, objectifying people, women especially. It’s about people being forced into showing affection they might not even feel. It’s bordering on a damn dub-con if not non-con.”

Sam blinked a few times, instinctively retreating as he felt you heating up. He raised his hands in a no-harm gesture to show he got your point.

But you were already on roll and you glimpsed Tony in the kitchen, so you thought that there was no harm in him hearing your speech too, just to make sure that the smug loveable bastard of a billionaire got the message as well.

“It’s like all those poor kids being asked why don’t you give your granny a hug before we go and a kiss to your granddad— well, it’s because I don’t want to and it’s my choice to give affection to someone! And now this thing, this is the tip of the iceberg, really, the last fucking drop- it needs to be Me Too’ed, I swear.”

You found yourself panting as you finished, your hands on your hips now – not that you realized you had put them there – and your belly hot and angry for some inexplicable reason; maybe it was the fact that it was Sam, amazing, friendly and understanding Sam Wilson, who had to go and point this stupid poisonous plant out for you; and have the audacity to ask for a kiss.

Dammit!

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologized sincerely, voice kind and without any hint of hurt or mockery. “It won’t happen again. I see that you might have a point in this.”

All the fight instantly left your body, replaced by warmth of friendship, mingling with a shiver of shame for your quick judgement and outburst. You sighed, easing your posture and offering and apologetic smile in return.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a big deal of that-“

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re kinda right.”

“Damn right I am,” you hummed, feeling the corners of your lips rise automatically as Sam chuckled and shook his head at your antics.

But hey – you were right. You were not sorry for that.

Still snickering to himself, Sam sidestepped you in the door and patted your shoulder.

As you continued your path as well, you would swear you heard Tony mutter under his breath that you were a Grinch.

Jerk.

2.

“Hey! Don’t I get a kiss?” Clint called out a complaint as you met both stepped into that damn doorway at the same time.

As he pointed up, all you could do was to sigh, close your eyes and count to ten.

It had only been like four hours maybe; perhaps the word hadn’t gotten to him yet that you were not a fan of making out with random people – even if they were family – just because it was Christmas; or as Tony had put it, that you were a Grinch.

Personally, you thought that his insult had been inaccurate; you had given it a thought. Maybe you were more of a Scrooge. Perhaps you should tell him next time you saw him, just to see his face; Tony did pride in his ability to come up with witty nicknames.

You almost spitted out Bah, humbug now, just because.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly instead, causing Clint’s jaw to quite literally drop as he looked at you with indignation and horror in his eyes.

“But--- but- mistletoe!” he stuttered and you sighed, deciding to explain it to him too – patiently.

“Why should some stupid plant tell me when someone is worth my affection? Someone who allegedly deserved it by simply standing under the same plant as me, no less? Get. Out. Not happening.”

You winced a bit as you registered the snappy tone you used.

Well. Half of the task of explaining it to him patiently went right, you’d call that a success, you supposed.

The poor archer just blinked, staring at you dumbfounded and mildly hurt; as if you had just told him that Santa Claus was nothing but a trick. Phew, as if you were that heartless…

Just-- logic. In fact, you had given this tradition a generous amount of thought since your last encounter under it and you figured out where it came from, historical inaccuracy be damned.

“I mean, where did the idea even come from? I bet it was just because some dude saw another guy mouth-to-mouth a girl, who happened to eat some of this poisonous parasite, may I add, and she was dying, so he gave her rescue breaths before continuing CPR. And the dude thought, that’s a great idea! Let’s make this a habit, just without the poisoning! Yeah, no. You’re not getting a kiss, Clinton,” you finished, satisfied with yourself as you managed to sound calmer this time.

Also, you were kinda proud of yourself for coming up with this story; it seemed very likely.

“That’s, uhm… an interesting take on history,” Clint hummed, watching you with uncertainty and hesitance and your heart stumbled in your chest as you guessed he was about to say something… cheeky, and outraging, in his cute brotherly way. “I need a hug at least tho.”

There we go.

“Nice try.”

You smirked and sidestepped him to be on your way and almost bumped into Steve, quickly shooting him a smile and disappearing out of sight before a silly idea about him and the stupid plant could form in your head – that would be bad and highly inappropriate, as was your crush on him, not to even mention your feelings—bah -!

“What did you do to her?” you heard the sweet supersoldier ask, a hint of accusation in his voice. Your smile widened, heat rising to your cheeks. Always so chivalrous; your heart could fucking melt.

“I asked for a hug after she refused to give me a kiss under a mistletoe,” Clint ratted you out, still hurt and honestly confused.

You stopped in your tracks as you rounded a corner, chewing on your lip guiltily.

Poor Clint; perhaps you had gone too hard on him… he couldn’t have known. You had to be kinder about it next time – after all, you might have been with them for almost a year now and they made you feel like you fit despite being so-so late to the Avengers party, but all of you still had things to learn about each other.

“Ah, you haven’t heard from Sam. Sorry,” Steve’s voice reached your ear, a notch kinder than before, compassionate even.

Compassion; another quality of Steve’s that you loved-

Bah, HUMBUG, that is not that, the L word is a bit much, that is not what’s happening-

“Wait, you knew- oh… Yeah, a heads-up would be nice,” Clint grumbled and made a pregnant pause, the sign of another prefect line coming. You held your breath in anticipation. “So are you gonna give me a hug or should I just get coffee, aka the hug in a cup-“

You held back laugher and swallowed the fondness for the good-natured archer before you could rush back and give him the damn hug.

“Coffee’s always a safe choice,” Steve replied and you thought you heard a chuckle and a grunt, unable to supress a giggle as you jogged away before they could notice you were still within hearing range.

Clint’s following monologue faded away as you walked.

“Nobody likes me. Nobody. I’m gonna die alone, surrounded by people who are too emotionally constipated to give a man a damn hug…”

Yeah, maybe you should give him a hug next time you saw him… no mistletoe though.

3.

You truly believed that that would be the end of it; after all, a day had passed since the first incident, the incident that was left without a kiss, and you doubted anyone was out of the loop at this point.

That was stupid of you. Naïve even. You jinxed it.

You were just after light breakfast, ready to get a little work out in – complete with tacky remixes of Christmas songs prepared to cheer you up – when the supposedly fastest man in the Tower, and possibly the whole world, pretty much bumped into you.

And he had to bump into you just as you were walking through that fucking doorway with that fucking plant which you were supposed to put down right after the encounter with Sam, dammit.

But no, you didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun; in fact, Clint had taken it his personal mission to meet as many people as he could under the mistletoe to get a kiss… or a hug. Wanda hapilly shared affection with others, either kissing their cheek of hugging them. People were having fun.

So, obviously, you let it be, confident everyone knew better than to corner you.

No good deed ever went unpunished, especially in the Holiday season.

Pietro grinned as he spotted you, downright delighted, and spread his arms almost as if creating a cage around you, leaving very little room to escape.

You did not like that.

“A kiss for a guy who caught you under a mistletoe?” he hummed warmly with a sprinkle of cheek and despite his cheery demeanour, you couldn’t help yourself and rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Maximoff,” you huffed, trying to duck under his arm, only for him to move it so quickly it was only a blur to you.

Quick to move, slow to take a hint. Yep, that kind of behaviour had Pietro written all over it… Okay, now you were being mean, but he was being an ass, grinning wider and adding a wink to the mix, so it was only fair.

“How did you know? I thought it was just my sister who was telepathic?”

“Pietro, leave her alone,” Wanda spoke as if on cue, eyeing her brother with a frown from her spot behind the counter where she was trying to figure out a recipe for a special Christmas pastry from her old country.

A hint of a pout appeared on Pietro’s lips as he reciprocated Wanda’s gaze; unfortunately for you, he was still aware enough of you attempting to escape his cage, so far without using force; though you were inclined to violence should it be necessary.

“What?! It’s tradition! I thought Americans loved that!”

“Well, not all of us, so-“ you explained with a sigh, catching a glimpse of Steve as he now looked up from his spot on the couch where he had been nestled with a sketchbook for the past twenty minutes.

“I could kiss you before you even notice,” Pietro argued smugly, his expression earning a wolf-like edge as you glared back at him.

Well, it seemed your workout was just about to start, you thought, as you balled your hand into a fist, subtly testing the readiness of the muscles of your leg, prepared to kick the damn man-child to his shin or worse.

“She said no.”

Both your and Pietro’s heads snapped to Steve, who was watching the other man with intense displeasure, all complete with the mildly adorable wrinkle on his forehead – a sign of disappointment and irritation – and a voice that carried the gravity of a Captain’s order.

Which in this situation stirred something in your belly, warmth swelling in your chest as he rushed to your rescue; one not needed, but still appreciated. You didn’t react to Steve’s words aside from giving him a quick grateful smile and shooting Pietro a childish told-you-so look.

“She doesn’t have to do things just because it’s considered a tradition. Leave her be, Pietro,” Steve added, less snappy and simply requesting from the speedster to have a tiny bit of respect for your wishes.

Pietro was most definitely pouting now, but he dropped his arms and released you, still blocking the doorway.

“This is ridiculous,” Pietro muttered under his breath, only for you to hear and you gritted your teeth, irritation spiking again.

“You are being ridiculous. Now move or I swear I’ll slap you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Eagle.”

Oh, we’re doing nicknames now? He could use your title earned by being fast and occasionally deadly all he wanted, flattery would get him nowhere at this point.

“Wouldn’t even see it coming, Speedyboy,” you challenged, chin raised in defiance.

It was ironic, really, how much everyone seemed to insist on following this stupid tradition, even with you. At this point, it was practically everyone but Steve; everyone but the one person you’d be willing to kiss – mistletoe or not, though the plant would at least give you an excuse.

But nope, you just had to get stuck in the doorway with this moron instead.

“Ooookay, you two,” Natasha sing-sang, as she was approaching you from the corridor; you completely missed her arriving, that was how much Pietro irritated you. “Maximoff, move, you’re blocking the doorway. And if you corner her like this again, I’ll kill you in your sleep and you’ll never see that coming,” she promised, voice icily serious despite the twinkle in her eye.

You had no doubt she would deliver just what she promised.

Which was exactly why you leaned over to kiss her cheek, earning a brilliant smile from her and a light brush of her lips against your own cheek.

“Thanks, kotenok,” she hummed just as Pietro gaped and complained.

“That’s so unfair.”

You smirked at him, throwing the smugness he had treated you with right back at him as you went to walk away.

“I give affection to whoever I want and whenever I want. Let your super quick brain process that. Happy Holidays.”

You completely missed the slow smile that spread on Wanda’s face at one point of the whole exchange.

+1

You decided to stop walking through that damn doorway altogether – just in case.

But at the moment, no one was around, so you made an exception since you considered yourself safe. Though main part of the feeling of security was that you didn’t think there was anyone left of the Tower tenants (who didn’t pay rent at all, somehow) who wasn’t aware of your opinion on the dumb tradition. No one who would be stupid enough to try.

Yet, when you glimpsed a large figure about to walk through the doorway just as you were few feet from it, you halted in your steps, letting them pass first.

And then there was a gust of wind, a warning coming a second too late and a harsh push to your shoulder from behind.

“Running through!”

You, the newest addition to the Earth’s mightiest heroes, Eagle, known for her quick reactions and not losing her cool easily, only managed to yelp in fright as you were knocked over, unable to hold onto anything and falling straight to the ground.

Two strong hands caught you and pulled you back up before you could hit the floor and you gasped, head spinning from the swift movements-- only to blink your eyes open to meet the prettiest pair of eyes you had ever seen; determined, kind, compassionate, loveable. And so damn blue despite the drop of green in their irises.

Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your ribcage as Steve instinctively pressed his chest against yours, holding you close and secure, grasp firm but careful.

Your gaze couldn’t but wander all over his face as you found yourself in such close quarters with him, his own eyes and his lips – gosh, those lips – working as magnets, always alluring your gaze to linger.

“You okay?”

Mesmerized, you watched those lips to move, barely comprehending what he was asking. His voice was warm; honey sweet and rich in spice, delicious, causing your stomach to flip pleasantly, your heart stammer.

It might have taken you a while to stutter out a reply, but no one ever needed to know about that.

“Uhm… yeah. Thanks-- thanks to you… thank you.”

Steve graced you with a small but no less meaningful smile. “Of course.”

Torturously slowly – as if he didn’t want to let you go any more than you wanted him to – he helped you stand straight and let go of your arms.

The moment you lost his touch, you lost your sanity too. You must have.

Before you could change your mind – or to think anything through – you leaned back to him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. And perhaps on instinct, you kinda aimed more for the corner of his mouth than the cheek.

He felt warm now too – the tips of his ears turned red in an instant and you, with horror, finally realized what you had done; and just how good it felt to finally show at least a little of what you had been trying to ignore and hide for so long.

Despite his apparent surprise and mild embarrassment, his smile widened a fraction, turning pleased.

“What was that for?” he asked lowly, gaze intense as he studied your face, a hint of a glow in his eyes, something brighter than hadn’t been there before. Hope, maybe?

You certainly hoped. Because you just made an ass of yourself, having acted without thought… and it never felt so good and so awkward at the same time.

Your brain had never been so quick and dumb to come up with a poor excuse either.

“We’re…. we’re under a mistletoe?” you offered reluctantly, your lips still burning after the brief contact with his, head once again nearly spinning due to the proximity – was it just the dizziness or was he leaning in closer?

“I thought you didn’t follow that tradition,” Steve hummed with a grin slowly spreading on his face and through the fog of lovesickness, it finally dawned to you.

You had done exactly what you scolded Sam, Clint and Pietro for – you just went and kissed Steve, no questions asked, no consideration of his possible discomfort.

God, you were such an idiot!

See, that’s why you have banned yourself for as much as imagining kissing Steve and meeting him under the mistletoe! Because when your brain went down that road, it stopped working altogether!

You swiftly retreated a few inches, horrified.

“I—I don’t. I mean. I-- I-I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, words spilling from your lips as the panic rose in your chest. And yet, there was warmth, a pleasant feeling coiling in your belly, breaths coming out short as Steve seemed to erase the distance you had created, his gaze studying you, landing on your mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that! What was I thinking—gosh, I didn’t want to make you-“

You stopped as Steve’s lips kept erasing the distance and ended up a breath from touching yours, tempting, his eyes shining bright with a simple unspoken question. You instinctively licked your lips, heart stumbling in your ribcage.  

“---uncomfortable. Yes, please-“

And then he was kissing you, a little smile playing on his lips as they danced with yours, sweet and soft, hand moving to your nape, thumb caressing the side crook of your neck, drawing a content sigh from you as your eyes fluttered shut, letting you sink into the kiss you had been craving for almost a year.

Your hands sought out his shoulders as he cradled your face, gentle and guiding so he could take more and all you wanted was to give it to him, give him everything he asked for and take it from him too.

Your toes definitely curled in the thick fluffy socks you wore when his fingers squeezed your nape briefly before he withdrew – as if he once again didn’t want to let go for something so boring as oxygen. You wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment, dizzy from the blissful turn of events.

As you inhaled nevertheless, you were grateful that Steve stayed close enough for you to breathe in him, relieved and delighted smile on your face as you licked your lips, savouring the sensation.

When you met his gaze, you saw nothing but fondness; and your heart could melt.

Steve liked you too. Steve kissed you like he meant it. Now you could die a happy woman but you rather not. You’d rather kiss him again if he was willing.

“Still sorry I did it without asking first,” you whispered an apology even though you were not sorry at all since it led to this.

“It’s okay. I just hope it wasn’t just the tradition that pushed you into kissing back.”

You chuckled and then chewed on your lower lip when thinking of a propriate retort, not missing that his eyes followed the action. Oh, he definitely liked to back, okay. Why had you never kissed before, again?

“I only give affection to whoever I want, whenever I want,” you threw back at him, the words that had a whole new meaning in contrast to when being told to Pietro; not a turn-down, quite the opposite in fact.

And you leaned in, greedy for at least one more kiss, Steve just watched you with a smile, eyes flickering to your lips.

“That’s good to know.”

He didn’t sound like he complained at being at the receiving end of your affection whatsoever.

Maybe, mistletoe wasn’t so stupid after all…

Three rooms over, the red-haired witch was smiling widely as she, thanks to her mental powers, caught a glimpse of what was happening in the kitchen doorway.

“It worked,” she announced, blinking to fully return herself to the present. “Nice work this time, brat moy.”

Pietro scowled at Wanda and couldn’t but wonder about the plan she had orchestrated and asked him to execute.

“How did you know, sestra?”

Wanda just shrugged.

“I had my suspicions before. But when you ran into her the last time, I checked her mind to see just how uncomfortable you made her,” she explained, giving one more scolding glare for his inappropriate behaviour. But well, it led to this and he helped now, so… he was good. “She literally thought she wouldn’t mind being under the mistletoe with the Captain.”

“Lucky bastard,” Pietro muttered, expression only half-sour.

“Shush. Be happy for your teammates. You just flirt anyway.”

The speedster pouted, but didn’t protest; he in fact was happy for the two members of the extended family him and his sister had found. And he indeed was only flirting, enjoying your reactions, talking back and teasing. It was all good fun and he did wish you and the Captain well…

But.

“Well, yeah, but now I won’t be able to do that or to look at her twice. Not without Captain having my head,” he grumbled and Wanda nodded with a grin, not feeling all that bad for him.

It wasn’t like he had his heart broken – more like had his ego tickled; and he had been needing some of that for a while.

“That’s true. Looks like you gotta be faster with the next girl you get your eye on, brat.”

The speedster gasped, shocked at her audacity. “I’ll show you fast-!”

Wanda laughed as she used her powers to freeze him on spot to get a head start.

Now, the Holidays felt truly happy indeed.

S.R. Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If this fic feels like it’s written differently, then I guess that’s fair… I tried to make the style more drabble-like and failed epically, because I just cannot write short and without too many feelings :D

Anyway.

Happy Holidays to you all! May you be given love and affection!

[big-bad-ulf]

Hear You Me || Layla & Ulfric

Location: Graham and Frankie’s Apartment Complex

Timing: The early hours of May 30th, 2020

Tagging: @big-bad-ulf and @laylacooke

Content: Family death mentions, Grief

Description: Ulfric breaks the news to Layla about Celeste’s death

The knock on the door at Frankie and Graham’s apartment was ominous. She had spent all night tossing and turning and for that reason, she had ended up on the floor in a small, little corner in Frankie’s bedroom. It’s also why she was the first one up and sitting on the couch with the tv turned down low as she stared into space thinking about the day before. The knock had been the thing to draw Layla’s attention back to reality, and without thinking, she automatically got up and walked to the door. Opening it up, she saw Ulfric standing there, but no Ariana. No Celeste, “Ulf…” 

Ulfric almost groaned when Layla opened the door. Damned wolf hearing, she’d been so fast, he’d been hoping for a few moments longer of waiting on the doorstep figuring out what to say. Instead, he found himself stumped. “Layla… Hello. I’m sorry I asked you to leave on such short notice,” he apologized, realizing now how it could have easily been misconstrued as him tossing out after he’d expressly promised not to do that. It had seemed kinder at the time than just letting her sleep ignorantly surrounded by Celeste’s memories or telling her and having her stay up all night on the roof with him to wait for Ariana’s return, but now he was unsure if he’d done it for her so much as because he hadn’t been up to speaking the words aloud to anyone yet. He had promised Ari he’d take on this responsibility for her though, so he’d find a way to now. “Is there somewhere private we could go and talk?” He looked inside cautiously, unsure if her friends would still be around. 

Layla had known something was going on, and yet, again, she had felt left out in the cold. It seemed as though she was always the last to find out things from the other wolves. As if she would never fully fit in with the pack, and while him asking her to leave hadn’t necessarily crossed her mind as him kicking her out, it did sit uneasily with her for the remainder of the night, especially after the lingering sound of the howl remained in her mind. Simon’s message to her hadn’t helped either. If Winn’s mother calling and Winn texting hadn’t been enough, whatever this was, had been thrown onto her shoulders too, and now, she was about to find out what was really going on, “They’re both still asleep, but we can leave. I can come back for my stuff later.” She didn’t want to wake them up, let alone have Graham hear anything that was going on.

Ulfric considered her proposition for a minute, contemplating where they could go. He couldn’t bring her back home, that was the whole reason they were here in the first place, nor could he think of any other venue that would be ideal to break the news he had to tell her. “Maybe we don’t have to go that far,” he counter-offered, spying a fire escape snaking up the side of the apartment building. The roof would be good, private but open, as he suddenly realized that the thought of being trapped in a small room with Layla and words of Celeste’s deaths was rather unbearable. He led the way up the spiraling staircase in silence, pondering how best to initiate his explanation of the events that had occurred on prom night, though he hadn’t come up with much of an answer by the time he arrived on rooftop, pacing as he waited for her to reach the top too. “You were told someone picked up the bounty on Ariana and Celeste, yes?” He queried softly once she did. The beginning, that was usually a good place to start.

She wasn’t sure where they needed to go, but him wanting absolute privacy made her more nervous than she already was. How bad could this conversation be? When he spotted the staircase leading to the roof, she reluctantly followed him. Did she want to know? Could her heart take what he was about to reveal? And why wasn’t Ari there? She was the one that broke the news to Layla. She was the one that made sure she was okay. She was the one that had rescued her from the dumpster and sleeping under bridges and in seedy motels. Was Ulfric about to tell her that Ariana wasn’t coming home? She pondered this all the way upstairs, and when she made it to the top, she tried to prepare herself the best she could for whatever news was about to come, “Y-Yeah...Celeste told me that when I first moved in with you guys. Ulfric?” Her warm brown eyes held a heavy sadness behind them as she peered into his own eyes looking for anything that would give her some kind of heads up.

Ulfric tried to meet Layla’s eyes as he searched for his next words, but seeing the sadness already reflected there, he pulled his gaze away. Instead, he fixated on the horizon behind her where a patch of the sky still appeared slightly hazy from the smoke that had filtered out of the abandoned warehouse on the docks districts. “Celeste’s parents… They slipped Ari some kind of sedative at the prom, took her hostage, wanted to draw Celeste out so they could make her watch them kill her. We managed to get Ari out,” he barrelled through, wanting to assure her of Ariana’s escape, but he knew it would be cruel to allow Layla to build up hope that everything had worked out after that. To allow her to think that maybe Ari was a little worse for wear but that otherwise things would continue the way they were. So, he barely paused for breath before adding. “But Celeste didn’t make it. I’m sorry-- I promised she could take the lead. It was her vengeance to take and I thought-- I should have…” He trailed off, a thousand better actions, judgments, and plans he could have made filling the space between them. Unable to settle on one he just repeated. “I’m sorry.”

Layla listened closely as Ulfric explained what had happened. She didn’t want to miss anything or to make him have to repeat anything. When she heard Ariana’s name and that she was safe, relief came to her. But the short pause caused Layla’s breath to hitch in her throat. And when she heard that Celeste hadn’t made it, her heart stopped beating, “Wh-What?” Tears began to fill her eyes. And her hand fell to her side, where some of the stitches had remained from the last time they had really got to sit down and talk to one another. The last time Celeste had given her advice and saved her from bleeding out from another stupid teenage situation she had gotten herself into. Her hand covered her mouth in disbelief as she let out a muffled cry. And then her mind went back to Ariana and the howl. That had been the reason she howled. Crying out because the girl who had become her sister was lying dead at the hands of hunters. At the hands of her own parents. The woman that Layla had shared a similar history too. The only person that seemed to understand what she was going through, more than anybody, was dead, “No-No this...this can’t be right.” She began pacing back and forth anxiously. Fiercely wiping her eyes and nose with her arm; sucking in air through her nose trying to clear her sinuses. But she soon stopped as a tidal wave of sadness came rushing over her. Someone else, who just in a short time, had become so important to her, was gone. A mentor and an ally. And while she knew the hurt she was feeling was only a fraction of what Ariana was feeling, it still hit her and brought her to her knees on the rooftop. Sobs began filling the air as Celeste’s death had seemed to be the cherry on top of all the drama that had happened in the past few days, and her heart felt like it was crumbling. No wonder Ulfric had told Layla to leave. But how could she even begin to go back to a trailer that held all the memories she had with Celeste. From the first day they met to the night she explained to Layla that her time would come to be brave and to help the pack. Followed by the two watching Legally Blonde and laughing until tears were in their eyes. But yet here she was again. Left in the lurch with no one there to explain to her that sometimes life just went this way and that she wasn’t alone. In that moment, with Ulf standing just behind her, she had felt so lonely. The relationship with Ulfric, though still relatively new, had felt strained. Layla had struggled to trust him and even though he was the one standing there telling her, because Ariana probably couldn’t and Celeste was...gone, she knew the connection him and the other young wolf had would never be something she could obtain, and the adult she had felt like she was connecting with the most was dead, “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”

Ulfric stood frozen, wanting to provide Layla comfort but not sure how to do so. They both knew the trust between them was a recent thing, and rather tenuous. An embrace seemed to him like it might come across as inauthentic. Still, he wanted to show her that a better understanding between them wasn’t impossible. His misgivings about her weren’t as set in stone as they had been before his realization about Celeste; that her actions had been driven by a genuine love for Ariana, not malicious intent or cowardice. If someone with a hunter’s blood and abilities was still capable of having a good heart, then he owed this hunter’s child who lacked the latter the benefit of the doubt. With that in mind, he placed his hand on her shoulder hesitantly and squeezed. “I marked her resting place,” the older wolf informed her softly. “I know it’s not the same, but you can visit her, talk to her there.” 

Tears continued to fall down her face as sobs could be heard. She was glad they had come to the rooftop. Glad Frankie wasn’t around to hear her weakness at this very moment. With Celeste gone, she felt confused. She had just started to find her footing. Had a parental figure in her life that she was starting to trust with both her head and her heart, and just like that, she was gone. Her mind jumped back to Ariana. Layla was older. She did feel protective over the younger wolf, but she was, by no means, capable of caring for anyone else. Hell, she couldn’t even care for herself half the time. Was she supposed to help Ulfric now? Those had been just a few of the hundreds of questions that ran through her mind. It was Ulf’s hand on her shoulder that stopped the swirl of thoughts and inquiries in her brain. The soft words gave way to quiet sniffles as her sobbing had eased, “And what about Ariana? Is she safe? Can I still see her?” Her eyes focused ahead as the sun was just pushing itself over the horizon.

“Yes, she’s safe,” Ulfric informed her, grateful and impressed that Ariana’s well-being was so forward in her mind despite how deep she still was in her own grief. He withdrew his hand but settled beside, on as equal a level as he could achieve given his natural height advantage, and joined her in watching the sunrise. “She’s staying with family friends, Deirdre Dolan and Morgan Beck. I’m sure she’d like to see you.” Despite his initial reservations about Layla he hadn’t failed to notice the bond she’d developed with Ariana, and now more than ever encouraging that bond seemed like it would do them both some good. “She just wasn’t ready to sort through her sister's things. And… neither was I,” He explained, confessing the last part reluctantly, but openness was something he needed to work on with her, if things were to be better going forward. “That’s why I asked you to keep out of there, but it didn’t seem right to explain the rest on the phone.” 

Layla wanted to see Ariana. She wanted to spend time with her, but most of all, she just wanted to give her a big hug. Of course, it didn’t mean she could keep herself from crying. In fact, she knew after Ulf had left, she was probably going to curl back up in her corner on the floor and sob, “I don’t think Deirdre wants me anywhere near her house. I don’t know if you heard about the bean incident, but I sorta wrecked her place, when she was having me chase after a dog - Simon’s dog.” She wiped her eyes with her arm. It was the last thing Ulf said though, that kind of stung. Keep out of there. It was as if she wasn’t welcome. Like he didn’t trust her. Looking towards him, but not directly at him, she spoke, “I wouldn’t have taken or touched anything, Ulfric. I know I’m just some stray that Ariana took in off the street, and I may not have known Celeste as long, but she meant something to me, too.” Getting up off the ground, she let out a soft quivering sigh, “I appreciate you telling me in person. And I won’t go back until I’m allowed to. Just don’t touch my bow. My name is engraved on it. I think I got most of my things out last night after you texted me.” She put a soft hand on his shoulder, before heading back downstairs to Graham and Frankie’s apartment. Slipping back inside, she found her spot back on the floor and laid back down, quietly crying to herself, until she couldn’t anymore.

“I doubt she’d hold some minor property damage against you now,” Ulfric countered, he didn’t know Deirdre very well but while she had come across as odd and a little dramatic, she clearly wasn’t uncaring. He doubted she’d be petty enough to stop the girls from visiting each other in this time of grief. “If you want to see Ari you should.” It wasn’t until Layla went on the defensive that he realized his mistake. “That’s not what I meant—” He protested, inwardly kicking himself for the poor phrasing. Keep out. He’d meant he wanted to keep her from harm, since his residence was now a treacherous place full of inescapable reminders of what they’d lost, not that she posed a threat to the sanctity of Celeste’s memory by being there. Still, considering he had outright told her he thought of her as a potential threat before, he couldn’t fault her logic. “It just didn’t seem right for you to remain, going about your business as if everything was fine, when it wasn’t,” he tried to clarify, by the young wolf was already descending the stairs. With her enhanced hearing, he had reason to hope she’d heard him, but not that she’d believe him given their history. With a sigh, Ulfric collapsed onto the rooftop and waited for Layla to reach the ground, allowing her to put some distance between them before he would leave himself. Above him, the stars had set, Celeste’s last night on this Earth had officially drawn to a close. Nothing remained but the bright morning sun to burn away any shadows that might have hidden the fact she was gone.

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 2 Chapter 18

• Predictions I had made for the two Finale chapters (probs not on my blog but I did say this to several mutuals):

1. Chapter 18 would be filler, Chapter 19 would be likely where shit hits the fan.

2. Diamond scenes would be split between the chapters, 2 LIs per chapter: Hana and Maxwell this chapter, Drake and Liam next chapter.

3. Why? Because Drake was the only LI with a diamond scene last week, and because given how ominous Liam’s future would be, there is a chance they will up the drama/tragedy quotient by having his diamond scene just before it strikes (remember how we got a love scene just before the fiasco at Coronation??). Hana and Maxwell have not had diamond scenes since NY, so obviously they would get a lion’s share of this chapter.

4. LIs would have significant conversations with the MC about their relationship during the diamond scenes. The scenes will be priced at 30 diamonds each - that was exactly how much they priced “last moments with LI” in Book 1. (I see they didn't do this for Maxwell possibly because no sex compared to what the other LIs are getting) (Future prediction: I think Drake’s scene might have some stuff on his real role in court but I can’t be sure, and hopefully Liam’s will expand on family history).

5. Another future prediction: We may or may not get another plot related diamond scene (similar to Olivia’s in the Book 1 finale).

• I didn’t anticipate the impromptu photoshoot or Bertrand and Savannah reuniting or Madeleine appearing at the end (tho I wasn’t exactly surprised she did, we were bound to see her sometime or other). But the rest? On. The. Money 😎

• Okay let’s start this shizz fam!

• Today’s title: Noble At Heart. Though it actually should have been I Got Land and A Fancy Title Only Because Pixelberry Wants to Justify Getting Me Involved In Some Really Complicated Political Shit The Next Book.

• We’re still not done impressing people. In fact we’re never going to be done impressing people. I fail to understand why the MC is so surprised about this. Boo, this is what you signed up for by being royalty/nobility. You’re not GOING to have a life of your own from now on *shrug*.

•

The epic shade Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford, gave to Prince Leo tho 😂

•

I KNEW naming my duchy Daniel Henney was a good idea! 😁😁😁

• There are mixed responses on Liam’s new suit but I kinda like it? It defines his chest quite nicely I think xD xD I wish it had been a slightly duller/lighter shade of blue tho, similar to what we saw on the cover. The blue suit on the cover wasn’t this bright.

• I really wish his bow could have been silver instead of gold though? Blue and silver are Cordonia’s national colours and it would have been fitting to have him wear those to the Homecoming Ball.

• Also I think the extra diamond scene if you’re engaged to Liam is such a lovely bonus, even if I think the dress for that picture was a little too top-heavy for my tastes and WTF why does my MC have two left hands. But the picture looked sweet xD

(See the skirts are flowy and wonderful and the sleeves are lovely but I feel like there’s too much going on with the bodice!)

• Sample this dialogue exchange (if the MC says “we would have still found a way to be with each other”):

Liam: I know we have our share of history [in the palace ballroom], but to me, it will always be the place where I first saw you in Cordonia…the moment I realized you had come into my life to stay. Since then, I’d wondered time and again if I would ever stand beside you like this. Now that we’re engaged, there are a million memories I want to make with you.

MC: No matter how bleak things were, or how hard it got…I knew we’d find a way through.

Brb crying 😭😭😭😭

• I have a feeling there might be some emotional importance to this photograph later if you buy it - esp if something happens to Liam or they are not able to get married yet. It could be a reminder of happier, more hopeful times, or Liam could look at this and view it as motivation for a future he wants to give the MC. IDK how it will work out but it would be great if they did that.

• MC: Together, we’ll be unstoppable.

Liam: I think we already are.

Hold on to that thought, you two. You’ll need to prove it pretty soon the way this book is going.

• @feisty-mary pointed out that we get a caption for impressing Justin and speculated on a likelihood that it might have some importance in the future. That kinda depends on how the writers are going to spin his cryptic “our paths may cross again”. Ally? Enemy? He’s like Madeleine now, you don’t know yet which direction this character will be headed.

• Why did they make Hana’s selection look like an over-frosted cupcake? 😣 Stop doing my fashion queen dirty.

• Olivia’s selection was nice but I’m not sure about the tiaras for either.

• It’s interesting how they have gowns that are custom-made to suit what Liam is wearing (Hana mentions this): the pink gown I’m guessing is meant to suit Liam’s blue suit overall, and the gold one to match his bow.

• Fam this tiara is clashing with my pretty gold hairclip help.

• Now that Olivia has found out who was responsible for the threats, can’t do anything about it because it would hurt Liam, and basically feels she has nothing left to investigate, her work seems done. But is it really?

• There’s still so much story left to Olivia. Esp re: her parents. That’s why they’re keeping her appearances limited to just helping the MC this book. Book 2 is supposed to be about the MC clearing her name and defining her relationships, but Book 3 will undeniably be about Cordonia. Olivia’s story is a big part of that history so I guess it makes sense for them to put it off till then. @ladynevrakis and I have this theory going on about how Olivia’s parents might have been trying to protect Liam’s mom - I personally think that would be a great way to tie those two stories together!

• Only Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, would suggest placing her future queen in a dungeon. Only Olivia 😂

• I’m not going to say much about the Hana lake scene, esp since it’s largely a sex scene and the non-diamond buildup is just as important, BUT HANA STANS CONGRATULATIONS I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU.

• So Hana’s going to stay with us, Drake might stay/visit, Maxwell might visit, Olivia might return to court when she hears about Liam and Liam…man that depends on what happens next chapter 😟 So we’re kinda starting to get a clearer idea of where the gang will be at.

• The scene with the guys, Bertrand, Savannah and Bartie was sweet, but my lack of investment in Bertrand/Savannah doesn’t really let me enjoy it. I think PB did all three characters (Bertrand, Savannah, Maxwell) a disservice by handling that story the way they did. Savannah’s story started out as this very emotionally charged mystery that kept Drake going in Book 1, and people got invested enough, but IMO it was handled so shoddily you end up feeling irritated at Savannah and Maxwell for how they handled things, and saddened because Bertrand’s entire character gets shortchanged so that the only thing he seems to care about anymore is Savannah (which is fine, but the reason I liked Bertrand in the first place was the way he was depicted before she came along). So Savannah is still a big part of Drake’s story, and the Beaumont brothers’ history, but the investment in her is simply not there anymore. At least for me. Sigh.

• Also CONGRATULATIONS MAXWELL STANS! The screenshots I saw looked sweet and I’m glad they had that all-important chat about how they want to move forward. I’m guessing Maxwell’s relationship will take time since they’d just confessed to their feelings in NY and they’d need a lot more development as a couple before they reach that stage. But I’m guessing that will happen in Book 3! Splurge on those diamond development scenes like your life depends on it till then! XD

•

If Liam is sending his personal security detail to guard me…then who’s guarding Liam?? 😱 😱 😱

• Adeleide looks very happy for the mother of a thwarted almost-queen. But she did mention that becoming royalty was changing Madeleine for the worse so I’m guessing she thinks her daughter almost dodged a bullet there. Plus, free booze.

This is Adeleide when she talks about Madeleine.

• I’m totally waiting for you to get that “hip hopera” of yours’ ready, Maxwell. Like Elvis Presley would say…

• I like the idea of Bertrand getting some love in his life…I just want to be able to enjoy the good ol’ curmudgeony go-getter Bertrand we all grew to love while we’re at it. Is that too much to ask for, PB? Is it?

• “Will Madeleine spoil your big night?” - I don’t think you would have placed her so early in the next chapter if that was the case, PB, cmon (then again, the message at the end of Chapter 18 last book didn’t sound that threatening either and look what happened there. So I could be wrong). Plus, I think we have bigger threats to worry about, threats we don’t even know about yet.

• So I saw a screenshot of what would happen if you’re with Liam and tell Hana you still want her, and she seems okay with it. I have the same problems with this scene that I have with the other scene - in fact more so because at this stage the MC is officially engaged to the other LI. But you know what worries me more? That there was such an intense reaction when Liam did it (including people stating they were glad they did not choose him and comments on Liam’s “integrity” - thankfully most of the people I followed pointed out how OOC it was) but almost-radio-silence when it came to the other LIs doing the same thing. I mean Drake last chapter still got to imply that he’d be more than happy to take us up on that offer if we chose the “tour of the room” option, and Hana here immediately agrees to what the MC wants if she implies that she is willing to cheat on Liam with her (unless the MC has Liam’s consent on this, that’s what it is). Very few actually commented on either. That’s not fair, fam. You can’t hold one LI accountable for something like this and not say anything about the others.

(People who may have taken the option to have sex with Liam while being with the other LI, and continued the chapter, does the MC inform their LI about this development?)

For me, the problem in both cases is that the MC doesn’t bother to ask the other person. She doesn’t say “look this is what I want to do, but I want to talk to both you and my fiance before I move forward”. She just takes what she wants from whoever she wants and the LIs just let her. It makes me feel sorry for them and really angry at her.

• Is it me or will Hana have an outdoor kink too? Homegirl has her first time with the woman she loves just as the setting sun kisses the lake xD

• Next chapters the finale, fam. The sex is going to be HELLA. The drama is going to be HELLA. And the wait for Book 3 is going to be…not hella.

• Will Liam finally have sex with my MC in a bedroom? Or will we find some other nice outdoorsy place since the hedge maze is already done? Whatever it is, we’d better get a scene absolutely worth 30 diamonds. No fade-to-black bullshit. LIAM STANS WILL RIOT.

• This is my MC to Liam next chapter:

Credit to @callmetippytumbles the genius who began the trend of putting gifs on her “Thoughts” posts. I can’t imagine NOT using them now thanks to you 😂