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antiquecompass · 5 years

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So for the Untamed fest, I’m doing a set of ficlets set in the Long and Happy Life Modern!AU ‘verse. This set of ficlets will be focused on Lan Sizhui and his years at Lan Academy in Grades 6 through 12. On tumblr they’ll be posted on each prompt day, in November they’ll be uploaded to Ao3 in chronological order. The first ficlet is below.

Untamed Fest Day One: Character

“It’s not too late to turn around. Schools in Boston don’t start for another week. We could do late enrollment. Hell, I’ll let Madame Yu take over. She’ll demand they admit you to any school right on the spot.”

Lan Sizhui tried not to show his nerves as his dad rambled on about alternative choices and escape routes. They hadn’t even backed out of their driveway yet. He knew he should’ve rode in with Papa, but both of his parents insisted he needed a good night’s sleep and a large breakfast.

He looked up at the eaves of their new home, the large Victorian style mansion came with a history and a name, Hills of Heaven, and looked like a castle from the road that led to the long and winding driveway. It was a massive change from their cozy house back on the outskirts of Boston, but he’d spent the last few weeks of his summer exploring all the secret passages and hidden nooks. It was a great distraction from what he was about to face.

New kid at a new school. At least he had friends and family there. Lots of family. And he’d grown up around Lan Academy. He’d never attended as a student though, and that’s what made him so anxious this morning, the first day of Sixth Grade. He needed to be good enough. He couldn’t let down Papa or Uncle or Great-Uncle. He was only a Lan in name and he wouldn’t disrespect them.

“Hey,” Dad said, pulling the keys out of the ignition. “I’m serious, Yuan. Say the world and I’ll pull you out of Lan Academy and we’ll enroll you somewhere else. It doesn’t have to be Boston. You can go to Andover like I did.”

His dad didn’t often use his birth name, not since Sizhui had legally become theirs and chosen a new name for his new, official, life. Just like his dad did when he was younger and adopted by Granddad Jiang. Nowadays Dad only used it when he was worried.

“I want to attend Lan Academy,” Sizhui said. “And Papa’s waiting for us.”

“He’ll understand.”

He would. And he would never judge Sizhui for it. He’d still love him and support him. And he’d still do that even if Sizhui turned out to be the worst Lan family student to ever attend the Academy.

“I just don’t want to disappoint them,” he confessed, voice small.

“Not fucking possible.”

He looked up in surprise at his father’s fierce tone. He rarely spoke like that around Sizhui.

His father grasped his chin and turned his face to study him. “It’s not fucking possible, Sizhui. Besides the fact that you’re fucking brilliant, an actual genius, you’re our son. Our blessing. Our gift. As long as you are true to yourself, you’ll never disappoint us. Do you understand me?”

Sizhui nodded.

“Okay,” Dad said. He started the car again. “Now let’s show those fuckers just what you can do. You may be a Lan, but you’re a Wei and a Wen too. They’ll never know what hit them.”

**********

The whispers had started as soon as he’d been dropped off. Of course, that could’ve been the fact Dad had hugged him so tight he’d picked him up off the ground and then forcibly carried him over to Papa’s arms, but that in and of itself wasn’t an uncommon scene between his parents.

The whispers had persisted through homeroom and his first class, and the morning assembly. He could feel the eyes on him as he walked the halls, Jingyi and Zizhen on either side of him.

“What’s going on?” he asked as they took their seats in the auditorium.

“It’s just the assholes who aren’t Lans or Lan-adjacents,” Jingyi said. He pulled out a Snickers from his bag and handed it to Sizhui. “They just don’t know you.”

“And you’re already being put forth as the valedictorian of our class,” Zizhen said. “Being Hanguang-Jun’s kid and all.”

Sizhui made a face at the name they students had given his papa. He supposed he could forgive them, considering saying Mr. Lan could mean at least fifty different teachers here, but it still sounded like a name doled out by a group of kids with a crush.

Hearing some of the things already said about his fathers, Sizhui was sure that wasn’t too far off.

“It’s the first day,” Sizhui said. “I haven’t even completed an assignment. And we’re only eleven.”

“You’re wicked smart, yo,” Jingyi teased, chocolate in his teeth and on his cheek.

Sizhui shook his head and wiped the chocolate off his face. “How do you always miss your mouth?”

“It’s what I have you for,” Jingyi said. He leaned forward and rubbed his face on Sizhui’s shoulder. “My own personal paper towel.”

Zizhen sighed next to them. “You two,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Seriously though,” Jingyi said as he settled back into his seat. “If you don’t think some of these Ivy League obsessed parents didn’t have, like, private investigators combing through your school records the second news hit you were coming to the Academy, then we need to talk about your self-esteem, Sizhui.”

“Grandfather finally won his bet he had going with Jin Ling’s grandfather. Apparently Old Man Jin thought your dad would never let you come to the Academy,” Zizhen said. He patted Sizhui’s shoulder. “You just paid for our new yacht.”

“You’re welcome?” Sizhui said.

Zizhen nodded. “Of course the near billion dollar pot is on when Headmaster Lan and your Uncle Cheng will marry.”

“Madame Yu says they refuse to do it just to spite her,” Sizhui said. “And that she’s surprised Great-Uncle Lan hasn’t intervened yet.”

Jingyi shrugged. “All I know is that years ago he had a long talk with Headmaster Lan and he basically considers the two of them common-law married since Uncle Cheng moved in. Mom doesn’t really talk about it, but since Headmaster holds the proverbial purse-strings to the majority of the Lan fortune, he can basically do whatever the fuck he wants. Not that he would. Because he’s the prime example of the Lan Character.”

Sizhui wanted to slide down in his seat at those words, but he didn’t dare drop his perfect posture. If Uncles Xichen and Cheng didn’t adopt, then Sizhui was the presumed next heir to that Lan Character. And fortune. And everything. His parents didn’t talk about it, didn’t put the pressure on him, but he’d heard it spoken among all the family elders at their large gatherings, the eyes that always judged him, the approving nods or disapproving frowns.

Sometimes it felt like just too much.

Sitting in the auditorium, waiting for his Uncle Xichen, now his Headmaster, to deliver a welcoming speech to grades K through 12, to feel all those eyes on him, and the whispers about him, Sizhui suddenly very clearly understood the real reason why Dad had fought so long to keep him away from Lan Academy as a student.

He was trying to protect him from all of this.

The urge to bolt, to grab his bag and run to the nurse’s office, and feign sick and call his Dad to come pick him up burned through his veins. He hid his shaking hands as he fought that urge to jump over the seat in front of him and disappear.

He let out a breath as an arm slung around his shoulder, a familiar weight that kept him grounded.

“I’ve got some Goldfish too, if you’re still hungry,” Jingyi said.

Sizhui thanked everything in the world for his best friend.

He opened his eyes and stared ahead. “No talking during assemblies.”

Jingyi laughed. “Look at you. Already trying for Class President.”

Zizhen nodded in agreement as the lights dimmed and Headmaster Lan walked towards the center of the stage.

Lan Sizhui was born Wen Yuan. He was a Lan by name only, a Wen and a Wei by birth, and a Jiang by association. He was eleven years old, with the weight of four family legacies on his shoulders, and just trying to keep his head above water.

The kids at this school didn’t know him. Not really. But they were about to learn. Because if there was one family motto he kept true to his heart, worn on a bracelet around his wrist, it was the one that gave him strength now.

Attempt the Impossible.

Bring it on.

#untamedfest #fandom: the untamed #verse: lahl #fic: tales from lan academy #the untamed #my ridic writing #day 1

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justanalto · 5 years

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71. “I want a pet.”

(did you know I was incapable of writing drabbles? yikes) I hope you like it! Thank you for the prompt, love!

challenge me with a drabble!

Fitz had seen a lot of impossible situations in his life.

He'd seen his best friend plummet to what he thought would be her death, he'd seen men emerge from an alien temple possessed by who-the-devil-knew-what. People had died and come back to life right under his nose. Machines had become sentient and had somehow managed to construct an alternate universe (not to mention trapping him in it). He'd even travelled to the future and witnessed a world where blue aliens ruled with an iron fist and lemons were how you expressed affection. One would think that he would've been able to handle any situation the world threw at him by now.

Then again, the world did seem to have a knack for knocking him on his arse when he least expected it.

"Oh, look at this one, Fitz! It's got the fluffiest tail!"

"Daddy, it licked my hand! Can we have him?"

"Lily, we've told you, you're not to get one that's larger than your father's drones," Fitz tore his gaze away from where he'd been longingly gazing at the more...exotic pets and over to where the domestic ones where. At the sight of his wife and five-year-old daughter fawning over the stool-sized puppies in the cages, the corners of his lips threatened to turn up at the edges and split into a full smile.

He remembered back in the Academy days -- hell, even during their early days on the Bus -- when he'd dream about this sort of life; the kind where he, Jemma and some unnamed child (he'd always hoped for a girl. Not that he'd ever told her this) would be out on the town, shopping for something impossible or other. The dream had always been curbed before it got too far: it wasn't proper to daydream about a woman you surely wouldn't be able to have.

What a naive fool he'd been. Ten years (and at least five handfuls of life-threatening situations later), not only had he gotten the girl, but he'd also gotten the daughter. The thing, though, was that in his dreams, their little imaginary family always adopted a monkey. Perhaps a little capuchin, or a pygmy marmoset -- their SHIELD salaries had set them up quite well, after all -- but never, not even in his wildest dreams, had he expected this to happen.

Lily Margaret FitzSimmons (Jemma had absolutely insisted on naming their daughter in some way after the famed founder) was currently seated criss-cross on the floor of a playpen, her magenta-colored woolen jumper absorbing glob after glob of dog drool as she played with a small pug.

She hadn't even looked at the monkeys when she'd walked in, making a straight beeline for the puppies. Jemma'd had to reign in her laughter for a solid five minutes at the look of shock and disappointment on her husband's face.

Personally, Fitz didn't quite understand why she was so fond of pugs. Labs he could understand. Great Danes and Greyhounds were useful racing dogs. Even corgis provided their own form of entertainment, if only when they shook their butts. All pugs did were walk around like someone had permanently offended all of their kin. God, he hoped Lily wouldn't decide on a pug. He still couldn't believe they weren't adopting a monkey.

"You know, when she said to us, 'I want a pet', I was thinking we could start small," he murmured to Jemma, who was filming the whole spectacle on her phone. "Goldfish, maybe. Or a hermit crab. Maybe we could've even got her sea monkeys --"

"They can hardly be called monkeys, Fitz, you of all people should know --"

"That they're just brine shrimp, yes, Jemma, I know." Both of them watched as the pug nearly bowled Lily over in its excitement. "But just for a puppy? Seems like a large leap. And a pug, too."

"I know." Jemma's nose crinkled in slight disgust. "I'm really hoping she picks the Coton. Daisy wouldn't stop harping about how she and Robbie have got that stupid Peekapoo. What kind of sane couple names their dog Coulson?"

"Apparently, you thought it was a great idea at the time. And that's rich, coming from the woman who chose her daughter's middle name to be for the founding woman of SHIELD." To be fair, Coulson had been over the moon upon finding out about Daisy and Robbie's canine christening -- so much, in fact, that the FitzSimmons family liked to play a game with their dog furniture to determine if the Reyes-Johnsons had bought it or Coulson had.

"I suppose it is," Jemma answered with a small smile. "But making her middle name Barbara was a little too old-fashioned for me." A series of excited yips caught their attention. Lily had been knocked back fully by the pug and was now being licked from head to toe, all while shrieking happily. Both parents exchanged a look of dread.

"We're getting this pug, aren't we?"

One interview, three stamps and a load of paperwork that would've even made May flinch later, the excitable pug was penned, the adoption certificate signed, and the family in the car ride home. Lily was chowing down on a strawberry shortcake pop Jemma had gotten her from the ice cream truck close by, while Fitz seemed to be devouring a Klondike bar and a rocket popsicle simultaneously.

"I gots a pet!" Lily's ice cream would've been fed to the car seats had it not been for the sheer forces of friction (Fitz made a note to say his prayers to Guillaume Amontons later that friction had kept the bar on the stick). "I gots a puppo!" She peered over at the cage once more, buckled in haphazardly in the seat across from her. "And puppo loves me!"

This was what Fitz was going to have to endure for the next thirteen years? Was there a way he could have May run over him in a Quinjet and make it look like an accident? Bobbi and Hunter had been experts at covering their tracks. Surely they knew how to get themselves lost if they needed to. "He looks like he loves you a lot, sunshine." The pug chose that exact moment to yip and jump around in its cage, rattling it enough that Jemma seriously considered pulling over and moving it to the trunk.

"Now that we've got him, have you thought about a name, Lily?" Her mother's question silenced Lily for a few minutes, and Fitz mentally thanked whoever was up there for the blessed lack of sound. "Remember, a name is very important. It'll stick with him for the rest of his life."

"Hmmmm...."

Fitz's thoughts went out to Piper, Elena, Phil, May and Daisy the pet rocks. May they rest in peace, wherever they'd gone. Maybe he and Jemma had made the right decision capitulating towards Lily's demand. After all, a dog was significantly harder to lose in your life than a pet rock, no matter how many times you brought one to school.

(Not that Lily was bringing a dog to school. A pug, no less.)

"Can I name him after you, mum?"

At that, Jemma almost did pull over; as it was, she nearly ran a red light in shock. "After me?" she asked once the traffic hubbub had settled down. "Why would you want to name him after me? You've got a boy pug there, silly!"

"But boys can have girl's names, too," Fitz chuckled. At least now he knew what Elena was teaching his daughter when she came over to babysit. "Aunt Elena said so. She said so for forever until Uncle Mack bribed her with food."

"Your Aunt Elena is right," Jemma answered slowly, not wanting to mince her words. "But I do think that naming him after me would also be a bit confusing, no?" Lily took her time with that, hemming and hawing over the decision. "What if you call 'Jemma!' and two of us come running? That would be funny!"

"But I call you mum."

"You might not so much when you're older," Fitz jumped in, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Jemma silently sigh with relief. "What about if you named him after your uncle Robbie? Or, uh, that cartoon you love so much? Bumble? Looks the bumbling type to me, even though he's not a bee."

"How about Uncle Mack?" Lily handed her father the empty ice cream stick, and Fitz threw into their trash can up front. "I didn't name anything after him!"

"Alphonso?" Jemma murmured under her breath. Fitz had to shoot her a look to keep from laughing out loud. "Of course you can name him after your uncle, sweetheart," she called back instead. "In fact, why don't we give him a call? I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear about the fact that we're naming their first dog after him."

Mack was, in fact, delighted to hear about the namesake, and spent the rest of the car ride home crowing to Jemma, Fitz, and Elena about how he was the second member of the team to have something named after him. Elena spent twenty minutes after that muttering darkly over the phone to Jemma about how they'd better name a second pet after her, or "Turtleman will be insufferable, and I'll make sure he brings it up to you at every weekly reunion dinner."

But judging by the way the Mack the pug had vanished as soon as Lily had let him out, Fitz had a feeling Jemma wouldn't agree to any somewhat large pets anytime soon.

#re drabbles #thank you for this!#it was nice to do some writing stretching again tbh #fitzsimmons #leo fitz #jemma simmons #sunalsolove #ask things

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thorne93 · 6 years

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The Newcomer (Part 3)

Prompt: You’re Y/N Beauchamp, daughter to Wendy Beauchamp. When you’re sent away to Spenser Academy, you have no idea what waits for you there…

Word Count: 1482

Warnings: language, violence, anger…

Notes: This is for @xx-multi-fandom-imagines challenge! Crossover of The Covenant, and the show Witches of East End. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @carryonmyswansong. Wouldn’t be possible without brainstorming with @carryonmyswansong, so thank you for that, darlin!

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

Caleb offered you something to drink and you accepted. He went into the kitchen while all of you got settled in in the den.

“So, you’re witches. How? How have I never noticed?” you asked once Caleb brought you back a soda.

“When we turned thirteen, we got our powers. We thought it was the coolest thing in the world,” Pogue answered.

“Yeah, until we realized the effects,” Caleb noted, a trace of venom in his voice.

“Effects? What effects?”

“Caleb’s dad isn’t dead,” Pogue answered.

“If... if he’s not dead, where is he?’ you asked, your brows furrowing.

“He’s up at the Putnam house. The first colony house,” Caleb noted.

“Why is he up there and not here?”

Caleb sighed before answering, “When we reach our eighteenth birthday, we ascend. When we ascend, our powers multiply. But, the more you use them, the harder they are on you.”

“Hard how?”

“They kill you,” Caleb deadpanned. “They slowly eat away at your body. The more you use, the more you die.”

“That’s awful,” you noted.

“I take it that with your sort of magic this doesn't happen?” he inquired.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, trying to fathom what sort of magic was that abusive. “No. Our magic isn’t like that.”

“Our?” Tyler asked, leaning forward from his place on the couch across from you.

“My family. I uh… I’m not the only witch in my family. My mom, my aunt, and my cousins, all witches.”

“And your father?”

“Powerful warlock,” you informed, nodding.

“It makes sense now,” Caleb suddenly said, as if he remembered something.

“What makes sense?” you asked.

He leaned forward, his hands on his face. “My mom, well, all of our moms asked us to take you in. We didn’t really ask why. They just said you were an old family friend’s kid.”

“So… you all took me under your wing because of your parents not because you liked me?” you asked, feeling a little hurt.

“It’s not like that,” Pogue defended quickly. “We had no idea you were magical or anything. We started it out as a favor but you’re like a sister now, don’t get that twisted.”

You nodded, trying to push down the feelings of hurt.

“Damn, it must’ve been my aunt. It had to be. I bet Joanna called. Ugh, of course.”

“So you’re a witch, what can you do?” Reid asked.

“Uh, potions, spells, read auras, kind of.”

“Auras?” Tyler pressed.

“Yeah, you know, like people’s emotional distress. I’m not very good at it, my mom is a lot better than me. Someone really has to be in trouble for me to see it.”

“So that’s it?” Reid questioned. “Just spells and potions? Sounds like Harry Potter shit.”

“Hey,” you said, taking a pillow and throwing it at him before laughing. “It’s more than Harry Potter shit. I bet I can do anything you can do, Garwin,” you teased before you stuck your tongue out at him.

He made a face of amusement. “Oh, challenge accepted.”

“Reid,” Caleb warned and the two of you were brought back to the seriousness of the conversation. “Is it true though? Can you do anything?”

You bobbed your head side to side as you answered, “I can teleport, manipulate the elements, telekinesis, toy with the weather a little bit.”

“That it?” Pogue asked.

“Uh, no. I can heal somewhat but mainly, uh… well... “ you hesitated. “My family, we each have our own...uniqueness. My mom can shapeshift really well. My cousins can cast and write spells, the other one can potionmake like you’ve never seen.”

“And you? What’s your unique ability?” Caleb pressed, curious.

You chewed your lip, playing with your fingers. That power was something that you didn’t share with anyone. It even frightened your cousins.

“I uh… I can… I… well I sort of drain people,” you admitted before your eyes met theirs. Each of them looked intrigued and concerned.

“Drain them how?” Caleb inquired, needing clarification.

“In fights… Or if someone uses their power on me… I take it.”

“How? How do you do that?” Tyler asked.

You shrugged. “I just do. I can’t even control it, it just happens. If someone uses against me, they grow weak. They try to use it even harder, they get weaker quicker. They hit me with fire, I absorb it and throw it right back at them. They use water on me, I soak it up and hit them with it. They use magic on me--”

“You drain them of their power and leave them weaker,” Caleb finished, sitting back.

“Yeah, but it’s not for good. But it does take a long time for them to get their magic back,” you informed.

“So while we’re sitting here right now…?” Pogue implied.

“No, being near me won’t drain you. I can’t even feel your powers,” you informed shaking your head. “It only works if you’re directing them at me. I can’t just go around sucking people’s magic away from them.”

“That’s good to know,” Pogue noted.

“So what about you guys? What can you do now versus when you ascend?”

“Anything, pretty much,” Tyler informed. “Minus the potions and auras. We can cast spells, teleport, and shapeshift.”

“But as soon as you turn eighteen...” you noted, the comment trailing off.

“Those powers multiply. They’re unlike anything we have now, and we’re already pretty powerful,” Caleb said.

Pogue added, “But, we have to be careful, because the more we use now, the easier it is to use after we ascend. And after we ascend, all that use will add up, it’ll eat away at us.”

“That is… some shit,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” Reid agreed.

“And you haven’t told anyone? No one knows?” you inquired. “Not even Kate?”

Kate was Pogue’s girlfriend. You and her got along okay, but ultimately, your loyalty lied with Pogue. Kate had a tendency to piss Pogue off and then get upset with him, which made him upset. It wasn’t something you liked to see and you blamed it on her a lot. The two of you spent many nights in front of a TV and pizza because of her being a bitch sometimes.

“No. It’s the only way we can keep ourselves safe,” Caleb said. “We try not to use in the open. We’re discreet. We don’t tell a living soul. Only our parents and us know.”

“And now you,” Pogue added.

“And you trust me?”

“You’re sort of in the same boat, aren’t you?” Caleb lightly reminded. “Expose us, you expose yourself.”

“So wait, if you’re a witch, where’s your family. Why are you here?” Tyler asked.

“My grandfather, the King, he’s coming after them. My mom thought it would be best if I was here, where he couldn’t find me.”

“King? King of where?” Tyler asked.

“Asgard,” you informed letting out a breath.

“Like, another realm, Asgard?” Caleb asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, my mom and aunt led a rebellion against him. It pissed him off so he cursed them and banished them here. I was too little to remember any of it, but now, apparently they were warned he’s coming back.”

“Even more reason why our parents asked us to protect you,” Caleb said.

Again, you bobbed your head.

“So your power, how does it work?” you inquired, wanting to shift the attention off of you.

“Each of our families--The Danvers, the Garwins, the Simms, and the Perrys-- they each produce only one child, the eldest male,” Caleb began explaining. “We are descendants of four of the five families in Salem. A lot of our kind were killed off, so our families made a pact of silence, secrecy to protect each other.”

“Whose the fifth family?”

“Putnam. They were killed off during the witch trials,” Caleb informed.

“That’s sad,” you noted, the witch trials being something that hit closer to home than most people.

“Yeah, but we’ve been able to survive this long. Our families keeping the secret, not telling anyone,” Caleb said.

“And now our covenant has gotten one bigger,” Pogue said, a tone of cheerfulness in his voice before he leaned over and tapped your leg, making you smile.

“Okay, so if you’re going to let me in this Covenant, I need to know all about it. All the rules, the history, everything. I want to know,” you said, excited and happy to be joining them for real. Leaving your family back home had been unbearable, but with the sunshine these guys brought into your life, it made it all better. Now, they were a real witch family, a home away from home for you. A place where you could be yourself, amongst friends.

“You’re sure?” Caleb said. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I think I can handle it,” you assured with a smile.

“Okay, let’s get to it,” he said merrily with a sideways grin.

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

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#the newcomer #chase collins x reader #chase collins fic #chase collins #the covenant #the covenant fic #witches of east end

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andveryginger · 5 years

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Flashback Friday: “Between the Lines” (TNG)

Title: "Between the Lines"

Rating: G

Summary: Old family friend Malcolm Alexander has a graduation gift for Charlotte Matsumura.

Notes: Tropey McTroperson here, but still one of my fave little beats between Mal and Lottie.

Also possibly the first time I used this as a title. I seem to have this habit of developing characters that can’t just come out and SAY what they mean. ::facepalm::

Charlotte Matsumura stood on the small teak footbridge overlooking a black-bottom koi pond. The sun reflected brightly off the calm surface, rippling occasionally with the gentle swish of a goldfish tail. Behind her, she could hear the soft trickle of water over the hand carved fountain. Elsewhere there was silence – the first she'd had all day.

It wasn't that her mother was annoying...okay, maybe it was. And, Charlotte supposed, she couldn't blame her. It wasn't everyday that your only daughter graduated from Starfleet Academy. But Elisabeth Blair, for all her stern reputation in the classroom, was acting every bit the mother hen. She hadn't stopped clucking all morning. "At this rate," she sighed, dropping her chin into her palm. "I'll be glad to get to graduation."

"You aren't looking forward to it?"

Charlotte straightened. "Mal – I didn't hear you --"

Malcolm Alexander gave a rueful smile, green eyes creasing at the corners. "I'm sorry, Charlotte," he replied. "Apparently old habits die hard."

The sparkle in his eyes started a too-familiar flutter in her stomach. Charlotte had known Malcolm Alexander her entire life. Capped with dark hair, his classic good looks were apparent to her, even early on. At the tender age of six, she had announced to her mother that she intended to marry the attractive, much-older man. Of course, with his easy smile and arresting green eyes, her mother agreed he would be a good match for any girl...any older girl. She made it very clear she expected the schoolgirl crush to fade with time.

But Mal, as he was known to family and friends, became something of a permanent fixture in their lives. A close friend of her father, Ronin Matsumura, Mal trained almost daily in the private family dojo. In some instances, he assisted the elder Matsumura as he instructed Charlotte in the martial arts as well; he was also a frequent guest at the family dinner table. There, he would entertain her, telling stories of his "troubled youth" and how he drove his parents to distraction. Charlotte sensed a kindred spirit beneath the stiff, British exterior. As a result, the schoolgirl crush hadn't faded; it had deepened into affection.

If the old family friend had noted the interest, he showed no signs. But then, he'd never really treated her like a child to begin with, something came to appreciate as a teen. She had made a vow long ago, however, to keep whatever feelings she had for him to herself.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Charlotte smirked up at him. "One of these days, I'm going to hear how you learned those old habits."

His smile wavered slightly. "Perhaps one day," he said. "But not, I think, today."

The smile returned full force. From behind his back, he produced a package, a few inches long from being a perfect square. "I know you said you didn't want anything but, well, I've never been very good at following the rules..."

Casting him a glare, Charlotte pulled back the paper to reveal a wooden box, capped with a glass side. Inside, stark against a watermarked version of the British naval ensign, were two black rectangles of fabric, each adorned with a single curl of gold bullion. Her eyes widened. "Mal, is this --"

"Shoulder boards from a twentieth-century ensign in Her Majesty's Navy." He nodded, pausing. "I thought they were appropriate, all things considered. Congratulations, Ensign Matsumura."

"I don't know what to say," Charlotte replied. She shook her head, looking up at him as tears threatened. "They're...incredible. Thank you."

Kindness touched the familiar green eyes and she gave a start as she felt his hand brush against her cheek. Gently, he wiped away the single tear that escaped her lashes. "You're – ah, quite welcome." She noted his voice was quiet, and strangely thick with emotion. "Just promise me one thing?"

Charlotte furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Be careful." His hand dropped to her upper arm, giving it a squeeze. "You'll understand more later, but please, just promise you'll be careful."

"O-of course I will."

The smile on Mal's face was one of relief, though taut; Charlotte could still read the tension in his eyes. "Good." He drew a deep breath before offering her his arm. "Yes, well... Shall we get this show started, Ensign? If we make your mother wait any longer, I'm afraid she'll explode."

Still confused, Charlotte chose to file the events away for consideration. There would be plenty of time later to over analyze the past few moments. She forced a smile, eventually finding it felt genuine. "We can't have that now can we, Commander?"

Hooking her arm through his, she was led back to the house. By the time she returned, she would no longer be a cadet.

***

#ginger writes tng fic #oc: charlotte matsumura #oc: malcolm alexander

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mysteryshelf · 7 years

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BLOG TOUR - Death by Chocolate Lab

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by Great Escapes Virtual Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

Death By Chocolate Lab by Bethany Blake

Death by Chocolate Lab (Lucky Paws Petsitting Mystery) Cozy Mystery New Series Kensington (February 28, 2017) Mass Market Paperback: 304 pages ISBN-13: 978-1496707383 E-Book ASIN: B01GBAG2T0

Pet sitter Daphne Templeton has a soft spot for every stray and misfit who wanders into the quaint, lakeside village of Sylvan Creek. But even Daphne doesn’t like arrogant, womanizing Steve Beamus, the controversial owner of Blue Ribbon K-9 Academy. When Steve turns up dead during a dog agility trial, Daphne can think of a long list of people with motives for homicide, and so can the police. Unfortunately, at the top of the list is Daphne’s sister, Piper—Steve’s latest wronged girlfriend.

Certain that Piper is innocent, in spite of mounting evidence to the contrary, Daphne sets out to clear her sister’s name—and find Axis, Steve’s prize-winning chocolate Labrador, who went missing the night of Steve’s death. Aided by Socrates, her taciturn basset hound, and a hyperactive one-eared Chihuahua named Artie, Daphne quickly runs afoul of Detective Jonathan Black, a handsome and enigmatic newcomer to town, who has no appreciation for Daphne’s unorthodox sleuthing.

Can a free-spirited pet sitter, armed only with a Ph.D. in Philosophy and her two incompatible dogs, find the real killer before she becomes the next victim?

Includes recipes for homemade dog treats!

Interview with the Author

What initially got you interested in writing?

Some of my first childhood memories take place at the tiny public library in my hometown of Montoursville, Pennsylvania. I used to ride my bike there at least once a week during the summer. And I was so excited the day I graduated from the picture books to the wire, spinning rack that held the “big kid” paperbacks. I couldn’t imagine being an author at that time. I thought people who told stories must be almost magical. But I’m sure that’s where the seed was planted.

What genres do you write in?

My focus right now is on cozy mysteries. I love creating quaint worlds with quirky characters. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve gravitated toward books that challenge readers to solve a puzzle. I was a huge Nancy Drew fan as a child. I also write YA and middle grade mysteries under the name Beth Fantaskey. But my first priority is cozies.

What drew you to writing these specific genres?

Martha Grimes fueled my initial obsession with cozy mysteries. Whenever I’d finish one of her books, I’d be so disappointed to have to leave the world and the characters she created. So I started finding other books with similar worlds. Then, when I became a novelist, I realized that I could create my own town – pet-friendly Sylvan Creek. And I could populate it with my own cast of characters, including smart-but-reckless pet sitter Daphne Templeton; her stoic basset hound, Socrates; her vintage-obsessed friend, Moxie Bloom; and her sensible sister, Piper. And, of course, I couldn’t resist conjuring up a very handsome detective with a secret past!

How did you break into the field?

I’m one of those twenty-year overnight success stories. I started working as a professional writer right out of college. Speeches for politicians, magazine articles, stories for newspapers… I was basically a writer for hire for two decades before I wrote a novel. And it was bad. So I wrote a few more until I had one that I thought was worth sending to an agent. And it sold!

What do you want readers to take away from reading your works?

With the Lucky Paws Mysteries, I want readers to feel like they’ve got a second home in a cute town with good friends who make them laugh over a cup of coffee or a delicious meal. And there’s a touch of romance, too.

What do you find most rewarding about writing?

Interacting with readers, without a doubt. I do a lot of fun giveaways, contests and Skypes, and I have readers who’ve become genuine friends. It’s also wonderful and humbling when someone writes and says, “Your book helped me through a really hard time.”

What do you find most challenging about writing?

Writing the first few pages of a new book or series. It always takes me a little time to get the feel of a new book. But there’s always a moment when the characters come to life, and the setting is as vivid as the scene out my window. That’s when I can breathe a sigh of relief.

What advice would you give to people wanting to enter the field?

Even if you dream of writing fiction exclusively, don’t overlook any opportunity to write. I learned a lot about choosing quotes and creating a story arc by working as a journalist. I think you learn something every time you write.

What type of books do you enjoy reading?

Not surprisingly, I love cozy mysteries. Cleo Coyle, Krista Davis, and Joanne Fluke are just a few of my many favorite authors. But I’m also a fan of classic literature, especially anything by Dickens or Austen. That’s probably the English major in me!

Is there anything else besides writing you think people would find interesting about you?

I used to be a global wanderer who always got into scrapes, like my Lucky Paws heroine, Daphne. For example, I once got stuck spending the night in an abandoned hospital in India. I couldn’t open the door to my room because feral dogs were wandering the halls. Luckily, someone came to get me at dawn.

What are the best ways to connect with you, or find out more about your work?

I’m easy to reach, and I always like to communicate with readers! Here’s how to get in touch.

Website: www.bethanyblakeauthor.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/bethanyblakeauthor

Twitter: @bethanyblakeau1

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/bethanyblake

E-mail: [email protected]

Thanks for hosting me on your blog!

About The Author

Bethany Blake lives in a small, quaint town in Pennsylvania with her husband and three daughters. When she’s not writing or riding horses, she’s wrangling a menagerie of furry family members that includes a nervous pit bull, a fearsome feline, a blind goldfish, and an attack cardinal named Robert. Like Daphne Templeton, the heroine of her Lucky Paws Mysteries, Bethany holds a Ph.D. and operates a pet sitting business called Barkley’s Premium Pet Care.

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BLOG TOUR – Death by Chocolate Lab was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf

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