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mxmeiyun · 1 year

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(Kristina comes on around the 3:42 mark.)

Do you see the edits? "I do see the edits. I don't see all of them, but I've seen quite a few. Sometimes I watch these things and I'm like, I was there. I did the scene. I did the scene ten times. Why am I crying?"

When asked about the Mother Superion and Jillian ship: "God knows that, well. Both of them need somebody to love and to love them... Like Mommy, I mean mother, I mean."

"The saddest part is we don't know when we'll see each other again." 😭

Is Beatrice a tea or coffee person? "Tea. I feel she'll know how to prepare every single type of tea and she'll she'll be very anal about how to do that. And she'd probably yell at Ava for doing her tea wrong or whatever."

Is Beatrice really royalty? "No, I don't believe so."

On following ice hockey: "Yeah, the only thing you need to know is don't whack people with the stick no matter how much you want to."

On Beatrice's name: "Sally's gonna haunt me forever. I'll hear it in my dreams, softly whispering in my ear. Sally. Sally. I'll wake up in cold sweats, screaming."

About who's the big spoon: "I think they spoon interchangeably. Take that as you will."

Obviously you're aware of how much of an impact the character Beatrice has had on so many people. But how has she personally impacted you, and what have you taken away from her that you would like to bring to your own life? "Decorum." "I think there's a there's a sense of confidence, even if you are not. Confident in all of yourself, you can still be confident in the parts that you are secure in, and you know your skills. If you're not ready to be completely open and live your truth in full honesty, then it doesn't mean that you still can't have integrity and confidence and stand up for yourself. And integrity of character and belief in my skills that Beatrice has cultivated already, and that I definitely, when I started playing her, I was like, I am an imposter. I'm gonna get fired from the show immediately." "But like you get that feeling when you go to work or whatever. You go to school. You're like, I do not know any of the things that I know and then you slowly start to realize that you do know, and then you're like, OK, I can hold on to that and make that my my backbone for now until I'm ready to face all the other things that I know to be true about myself, but I'm not ready to project into the world or or represent in the in openly in the world."

If you could spend a day with any of the characters, who would it be and why? "I think I'd have a pretty good time with Ava."

Do you think you're more like Ava or Beatrice? "It just kind of depends on the situation. I feel like if you just talk to me and we're like really good friends for a long time, I might come off more like Ava. But I feel like if I'm not really that close to you, I might come off more as a Beatrice."

How are you taking care of yourself in light of today's news? "Well, first of all, thank you. I'm doing fine. I am in therapy. Therapy great, guys." "It certainly feels like a massive hit to the community, and to us, as well. It's important to take those feelings that are coming up now and try to cultivate them into how you can- I'm just speaking for myself, I can't speak for anybody else- but for me it's about how can I turn these feelings into something useful for me going forward rather than languishing in it for too long. Obviously, your feelings are valid and should be felt to their fullest extent, but don't let them consume you, because then that's not doing anyone service." "Someone taught me a method in acting school, my improv teacher, and he said, 'Whenever something bad happens in your life, pretend you're going into this helicopter. The further up you go in that helicopter, the smaller the problem is, the more you can see around you and the more you can see how that problem does or does not affect everything else around your helicopter. And put into context of how you can affect change positively once you come back to the ground, once you're in the midst of it rather than staying too close to the to the issue at hand and and not actually realizing all the other things that are going on." "I think that's that thinking has helped me a lot whenever something kind of goes wrong or things are not going the way I want them to. But take time for self-care. That's like the most important. If you feel like things are overwhelming then it's always important to look at the things to reprioritize um and always prioritize yourself. Spend your own health and your own wellbeing." "Because anything in life, even if it seems like a little thing like this show got cancelled and now you're upset, you know it might seem to some people like a little thing, but their opinion is not a priority. Your wellbeing is a priority, so always keep that in mind." "And HYDRATE."

Responding to a comment about Beatrice really resonating with a lot of fans and praise of her performance, time, and energy: "Thank you... Beatrice launched my career so she's one that i'm definitely going to hold to heart for many many years to come."

Reflecting on her increased visibility: "You know, at this point, it's not a burden. At this point, I can do this with you guys and it's completely fine. It's the same thing with anything; when something new starts happening, you learn to deal with it and where your boundaries are. I've been so lucky that you guys are all so respectful, and I really, really appreciate that from all of you. It's definitely not the norm for every fandom, so it's incredibly special what you have made this to be. So I commend all of you and I'm so grateful."

Were you shocked by the broad reach of the show, or was it something you anticipated? "Definitely. I was surprised when the first season came out, it was so globally successful. I mean, that just goes to show that some subject matter is felt all around the world. And a beauty of Warrior Nun is that there are so many characters everywhere around the world you can definitely find one that you can root for."

Responding to one fan whose wife has recently passed, and with whom she watched the show with love: "Oh my God, you're gonna make me cry. First of all, so sorry for your loss. I can't even imagine how that must be, and I applaud your courage. Thank you. I'm glad this show can be a good memory for you guys and continuing forward. That there's something you can always remember with a warm heart."

Responding to love from Brazil: "I fear if I ever go to Brazil."

"Fear not the bowl of rice, 'tis but a bowl of rice."

Responding to one of the APOP producers wanting to make sure none of their tweets made her uncomfortable: "I'm, like, fully aware of what I've gotten myself into." Do you see all those, Christina? Like, I know there's a joke that you have a burner account, but. "No, I don't. This is my only account."

"I feel like if the pope joins this conversation, he'll no longer be able to call himself His Holiness." Did you see the Warrior Nun stan that recommended the show to the Pope? "No?! Nice... Yeah, somebody just has to tell him to skip that episode, you know?"

*Records an alarm sound for a fan named Janina with increasing intensity*

Wait, Kristina, can you say gay rights? "Wait, what about it?" Just the phrase. "Gay rights." *awkward cheers* "Really lukewarm cheers from the crowd."

Kristina, to Ange Hall: "Well, actually, and I have a question for you. Tell me again, what was the progression of the dickwaffle conversation?" "I feel like Netflix being harassed by penis waffles- someone needs to draw the art of." "Make it rain dickwaffles. No, I mean, obviously, do it respectfully. But like, respectfully make it rain dickwaffles. For legal reasons this is completely a joke. But also, you can't really get mad at dickwaffles. Like, come on."

#warrior nun #kristina tonteri-young #warrior nun blogging

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possibilistfanfiction · 10 months

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argument pt 2?

[here's argument pt 1 (i guess lol); u don't need to read it for this to make sense fully but if u are so inclined & haven't read it yet it might be helpful context.]

you don't know what else you expected. upon a very quick reflection — once your brain reorients itself from beatrice is so hot — you realize you were foolish to think anything else, especially not without a discussion. but, still —

'what are you doing?'

it's clear what beatrice is doing, standing with jillian in one of her fancy labs. she's dressed in all black, a t-shirt delightfully tight on her biceps (focus, ava) tucked into loose pants reinforced at the knees, boots that are tougher than normal but lighter than those you would typically wear in combat — ones she prefers when fighting because it allows her quiet, stealth, full range of motion. 'trying on new armor,' she says, and if it was years ago, the spike of anger that starts in your gut and shoots up your spine — anger, and sheer panic — would have set the halo off.

jillian looks between the two of you — your fists clenched; beatrice's arms crossed over her chest — and says, 'well, i'll be looking over some specs in... another room,' and excuses herself.

wisely.

it hits you, all at once, when you look at beatrice — your fiance, your life partner — that, right now, maybe more than ever, she looks like a soldier. it's not been lost on you over the years, not with her nightmares and the quiet, chronic pain she bears with little more than a tender wince some mornings, the way she loses herself after loud noises or too many people in a crowd, her usually steady hands trembling — it's not been lost on your that beatrice has been fighting for a long time.

'you can't seriously be telling me you're not going to stop.'

'i'm fine, ava. i was cleared by my surgeon and my physical therapist to return to all normal activities.'

you're so used to gentleness, now, even with demons to fight on occasion and the lingering affects of a holy war too great to fully comprehend. you're used to beatrice's loose cotton crewnecks you like to steal; the rust-colored linen pants she loves, light in the breeze off the water. you're used to her whining for posterity about couples halloween costumes, her afternoon naps with her kitten purring on her chest softly. you're used to dates she plans meticulously that you don't even try to mess up because she's so intentional with how she loves you, full of thought and care. you're used to your big house on the beach and her laugh in the afternoon, the freckles on her shoulders, her hand in yours.

'i don't understand.' you release your fists with the progressive muscle relaxation you've worked on in therapy, then take a deep breath. 'you — you want to keep fighting?'

you're the one who changed her dressings after surgery, who took her to months and months of painful and slow-going, steady physical therapy. you're the one who washed her short hair with the gentlest hands you could, even that hurting the bone bruise along the back of her skull. you're the one who filled the prescriptions for her pain meds, who held her hand when she woke up. you're the one who loves her the most. you're the one who thought she was going to die.

'i —' she seems at a loss, for a moment, and then, 'it's my duty.'

'your duty?' it comes out shrill; so much for your muscle relaxation. 'beatrice.'

she clenches her jaw.

'you're telling me that you're, what, just fine getting fitted for new armor because your last vest got punctured by shrapnel and almost killed you?'

'ava.' it's a warning, and a tired one — exhausted from over a decade. 'you're still fighting.'

'i don't have a choice.' you hate yelling but you're overwhelmed by the idea of having to go through what you did again and again. 'don't you want — don't you want to choose?'

she swallows and leans back against the counter. 'if i —' she shakes her head.

'bea.'

'i — i can't.'

'i want to live,' you tell her, an echo of one of the first things you knew years and years ago, and her lower lip trembles. 'for so long i have wanted to live so badly, bea.'

'i know.' her voice is laced with unshed tears.

'i — do you want to?'

she sniffles and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling; it's a sure tell she's trying to compose herself but you can see her shaking, holding it in. 'i never thought i would.'

you step toward her, wait until she offers her hand. you lace your fingers together and wait. 'did you want to?'

'i didn't think — i didn't think i deserved to. i didn't think that me living a good life would be nearly as valuable as, well —'

'dying young in a blaze of glory for god?'

it takes her a moment, because it's the hardest thing in the world to hold, this grief, but then she laughs a watery little sound. 'something like that.'

'okay, but — do you want to now?'

it hangs heavy in the air. you know that she goes to therapy faithfully and you've seen her cry multiple times watching the sunset; she touches you like a benediction. but the answer is impossible to come by, sometimes — worthiness, and belief. 'who am i, ava, if not... this?'

you remember a book you'd read a few months ago, one of mary's favorites, that had made you cry often — where does it all lead? what will become of us? these were our young questions, and young answers were revealed. it leads to each other. we become ourselves. it's easy, to kiss the faithful gold band on her ring finger and then take her in your arms, put a protective hand to the back of her head. 'you're a fucking miracle,' you pray into her skin. 'you're the love of my life. you're a genius, and a black belt, and someone who avidly watches reality tv and tennis, only one of which is worthy of that kind of devotion.' you feel her laugh, snotty, into your shoulder. 'you're so pretty, and so handsome, and really funny when you want to be and sometimes even when you don't. you're remarkably forgiving; an incredible friend, a wonderful sister. you're someone who surfs because the ocean is beautiful and you want to see the sunrise. you're a very hot lesbian, and you're my fiance, and you're going to be my wife. you're my life partner. you give the world so much more than it has ever, ever deserved.' you both back up, just so you can look into her eyes. you hold her face in your hands, as gently as you can, run your thumb along a cheekbone, the constellation of freckles there that have bloomed in the sun by the sea. 'you will always serve the world, i know that about you. you're a child of god,' you say. 'you're beatrice.'

it doesn't surprise you when she kisses you gently and then tucks her face into your neck and lets out a full body sob. you rub her back through it, hold her up when her legs grow weak. eventually, as she always does, she calms and composes herself, steps back and dries her tears, runs a hand along her hair. her eyes are red but she takes a deep, steadying breath.

'thank you.'

you kiss her cheek. 'you're also my favorite.'

'now that i do know.'

you grin. 'don't get me wrong, like, fuck the military industrial complex obviously, but this is kind of a look.'

she rolls her eyes but her shoulders settle and then she looks at you seriously. 'i want to live a long life.'

'yeah?'

'so badly.'

'it's a little scary, right?'

she lets out a shaky, honest breath. 'yeah.'

'well, we'll figure it out.' you kiss her, the first of a kind stretching out ahead of you, infinite. 'i have an idea?'

she sighs, and you can't help but laugh.

(you watch her slice a plum on the shore of the lake in the alps you used to train at all those years ago, the lake you knelt down in front of her and she agreed to be your wife. the fruit is juicy and a color you can't quite bring yourself to comprehend: blood, your favorite sangria at the beach, natal dahlias. the house you stay at now — a few quiet days before you head home — is small and gorgeous, with a giant bed and a wall of windows that overlook the mountains. i love you here, you tell her — i love you like this; i love you however you are meant to be — i love you in peacetime, and you watch her slice a plum, the juice red and sticky on her fingers. she puts it to your mouth gently and the taste explodes like a kiss. she smiles and you feed her too; she sucks your finger into her mouth and you close your eyes — there will be time enough to touch her later. the water is calm, and the flowers are in bloom, and the sun shines bright.)

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡#jillian getting tf out of there lmfao #mostly brought to you by the overwhelming RED of the plums that have been in season in socal lately #& the accidental sincere ending to the lilith pov prompt fill lmao 'i want to live a long life'#whew! wild!

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nuggetneoura · 3 months

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Back In Time Pt.1

~Summary~

wc- 1,980

While the Best Friends were on a family trip to Graceland some strange feelings were in the air. The beginning of 2024 has been weird..or is it 1969? read to see how the pair ended up there.

~Character List~

----Rachel-maggies best friend -sometimes sings with Maggie -journalist-runs a daily blog about her life and she has a good amount of followers but is not famous(YET)

----Maggie-Rachels best friend -closest with Alex (sibling wise)-plays a shit ton of instruments-sings and writes music and lyrics-Alex publishes her music through his label-she and Alex has a couple of songs together but they usually don't make songs together because of the genre difference. He gets her to do the singing he needs on his songs. Also is not famous (YET)

----Alex-up-and-coming producer-started L&WR (Light & Wonder Records) and it started slow but is starting to pick up-very spiritual-really is the chicken from Surfs up-rapper

-TB(27), Caitlin(26), Alex(23),and Maggie (22) are all siblings.

-Jillian (22), and Rachel (20) are siblings. jillian married Tebie so that's basically how Maggie and Rachel met.

----Constancio and Tara (Maggie and her siblings parents)

----Luca is tb and Jillian's baby

----Elvis(32) (the Austin Butler Elvis ofc)

----Vernon Presley (Elvis's dad)

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

~setting~ Date is 1-11-2024. The family took a trip to Memphis Tennessee. It's a cool cloudy day.

(not that it matters but Alex Maggie and Rachel in one car. Jill TB and Lucas in another. Cat in her own. Parents in their own)

and Rn they are on the way to tour Graceland.

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

“Did you know today is a spiritual day?” Alex asked focusing on the road. Alex does not mind driving in silence but, he knows others hate it. Maggie, who was looking out the passenger window..smiled turning her attention to her older brother. “Really? What makes it spiritual?” “1-11-2024..add it all together and it equalssss..” Maggie started counting in her head “11” Rachel answered from the back seat “Which meansssss…” “High spiritual day” Maggie answered. Alex smiled and nodded while still focusing on the road. “And we are going to a dead man's house” Rachel sarcastically stated. “We better watch out or we might run into Mr. Elvis himself” Alex replied. Maggie gasped “Do you think he will look like younger him or older him??” Alex scrunched his face shooting Maggie a look before laughing a bit. “Hopefully younger” Rachel said. “He's dead. Does it matter what he looks like??” “Yea” Maggie and Rachel replied in unison. Alex laughed and looked at the GPS he had on his phone. “We will be there in three minutes” “Do you think it's bad to call dibs on a ghost?” Maggie asked. “Mag-” “DIBS!” Rachel yelled cutting Alex off. Maggie whipped around “THATS NOT FAIR!” “Dibs is dibs Maggie” Rachel laughed. “You don't even really like him!” “Yes I do” “No, you don't!” “Ye-” “Rachel! If we see him, it won't be the young Vegas street actors PLAYING as Elvis! This is ELVIS Elvis” “Does not matter. Dibs is dibssssss” “When we get out of this car Rachel your ass is grassss” “No one is putting anyone's ass..on this dead man's grass” Alex said pulling into the parking lot. He parked as Maggie and Rachel continued to play argue.

Soon the trio got out of the car and met the rest of their family at the front of Graceland. Everyone took their time admiring the outside of the house. Eventually, everyone split into their subconscious groups as they all slowly inched towards the front porch where the ticket lady was. “Why is the grass so green?” Maggie questioned squinting her eyes. "It might be painted or it's fake grass” Alex responded as he stood beside Maggie. He admired her attention to detail. He's always been the ‘see the big picture’ type of guy…while Maggie had always been the ‘but look at the details of it type of person. Rachel however could do both , but she sometimes struggled to see the details of things. She rather not waste her time when there is bigger things to worry about….but that's why the trio worked so well. They were all the same person , but so different at the same time. “Rachel if I did put your ass on this man's grass you would have a green ass” Maggie said turning her head to look at Rachel who was behind her. “Maggie” Alex said quietly face palming. Rachel smiled at her best friend “or bad butt burns” “Guys come on!” they heard Caitlin yell at them. They all turned their attention and realized the family was talking to the ticket lady. The trio walked over to the family.

“2 adults 1 baby” TB said to the ticket lady. “Wait! can I cash app you and you just pay for mine?” Maggie asked and her oldest sibling nodded at her. “Mijo just pay for everyone and we will all just pay you after.” their dad said to which the oldest nodded again. Maggie let out a loud breath while dramatically putting a hand on her heart. “We gotta make sure we pay him back 'cause…we all are just… 20-something-year-old teens struggling” she said. The group laughed as Jill turned “You guys are the struggling ones” she laughed looking at the trio. “That would've taken half of the money in my bank account” Alex said. “That would've taken most of mine” Rachel added which led to Maggie letting out a dramatic ‘uuuuhh’. “ what do you mean?! That would have left me in the negatives!” Maggie fake cried. The oldest turned with tickets in his hand “I'll pay for you Mags, if it makes you feel better” he said sarcastically. “Why does she get special treatment?” Caitlin asked as TB handed everyone their tickets. No one could respond to her because the doors opened..which grabbed everyone's attention.

A shorter lady with blond hair stood in the doorway with a bright smile. “Hello everyone! My name is Britney and I will be your tour guide for today! Whenever you guys are ready just go ahead and step on in. We don't need the tickets. They are mostly to prove you paid if you have to step out or something like that. They are yours to keep” the tour guide said cheerfully. She had a thick southern accent that added to the cheerfulness.

As everyone stepped inside Maggie whispered to Rachel “This ticket is going into my memory box”. When the group was fully in…the guide closed the door and walked to the doorway of the living room. Maggie's stomach dropped seeing the staircase for some reason. She zoned out staring at it. As the group started getting led into the living room and then the music room by the talking guide…Maggie just stood and stared at even the little details of the staircase.

Rachel realized her best friend was still standing at the staircase and snuck back over to her. “Maggie. You're missing the music room” she said and followed Maggie's gaze to the staircase. She looked between her and the staircase a couple of times before nudging her softly. “Maggie. What's-” Rachel was cut off by her best friend grabbing her hand and walking slowly to the staircase. Maggie unhooked the rope that blocked the staircase and slowly led Rachel up the stairs with her. “Maggie we can't go up here. It's off limits” Rachel whispered but her best friend was not hearing her at all. Maggie was deep in that stomach-dropping feeling and was following it. As she followed…the feeling it got worse. “Maggie we cant-” “hush” Maggie said softly still pulling her best friend slowly up the stairs. As they got to the 2nd floor Rachel started feeling her stomach sinking too. They crept into the hall looking around. Rachel noticed a guard who hadn't noticed them yet. She pulled Maggie back a bit “What?” Maggie snapped getting frustrated with Rachel a bit. That got the guard's attention and his posture shot up “HEY! YOU GUYS CANT BE UP HERE!” he yelled speed walking to them. Maggie was set on following that gut feeling. She grabbed Rachel's hand and basically dragged her to run. They ran a little down the hall “GET BACK HERE!” the guard yelled. Maggie saw a door and flung it open running in while still holding Rachel's hand. Not focusing on what was in front of her she ran into something hard and fell to the ground taking Rachel with her.

“Damn” they heard a man hiss. Rachel was too focused on her own pain of falling but Maggie looked up noticing that the ‘something’ they had run into was a someONE. She looked at the man and noticed he looked like Elvis but ignored it. She just thought their adventure was over. “I'm sorry” Maggie said standing up. She definitely was in pain however the adrenaline of being caught was kicking in. “how’n the hell did you two get’n here?” the man said rubbing his arm “uhh well..we just… Well, we wanted..” “Better question. Who’n the hell are yall?” the man asked. Rachel stood up finally meeting Maggie by her side. “Well we got the tickets and someone felt the need to-” “tickets? What’n the hell are yall wear’n? Wait yall aint fans are yall? Did someone let yall in?” “I'm sorry….Is this a joke?” Maggie snickered “You look so much like him” Rachel said furrowing her eyebrows “Is what a joke? Like who?” “Elvis” Rachel replied The man smiled revealing his high cheekbones “I am Elvis” “Ick” Maggie scoffed “Excuse me?” the man asked looking genuinely confused Rachel stared at him and noticed he really REALLY looked like Elvis “Dibs” she muttered “Rachel this is not the time. Wait why hasn't that guy come in?” Maggie said turning back towards the door. maggie walked to the door and looked out it. she noticed some things had changed… She definitely noticed the LED lights were now that soft yellow lighting. “What guy? Someone brother’n you? My dad should be downstairs. He don't bite. Did he let you guys in? He could've let me know he was let'n in some fans. I would've got more dressed up” Maggie scoffed turning to look at him “Fans?” Rachel hit maggies arm “Wait…what day is it?” she asked the man “January 11th” “Year?” The man chuckled “1968” Maggie and Rachel shared a look. “Dude. I know delulu is the best selulu but this is a little too delulu” “Dude? The what now?” “It's January 11th…but it's 2024 brother” Maggie said matter-of-factly “what ‘n the hell are you talk’n about?” Maggie walked closer to the man rolling her eyes “It's 2024” “Did you hit your head a little too hard?” The man asked putting his hands on his hips

Rachel softly nudged Maggie “Our apologies sir. We were running from a man and just ran into this house. I don't think your dad saw us. We just really needed to get away from him” Rachel said pulling Maggie away and started walking out of the room “Ok..well just hold on a minute..” he said following the girls out “We really didn't know this was your house, sir.” Rachel said walking down the stairs quickly with Maggie following close behind. “Just wait” Elvis said catching up to the girls at the bottom of the staircase. “What is this?” a man's voice rang out. The girls stopped in their tracks and Elvis stopped behind them. “Elvis, are you sneaking fans in again? Your wife is pregnant.” the man asked walking out from the living room Maggie scoffed and turned to look at him “Again??” Elvis’s face turned slightly red and walked around the girls to stand in front of them “No Daddy. I was just helping these girls out. You didn't see em run in?” Elvis’s dad shook his head “No. I have been sitting on the couch for a while…when did they come in?” The girls exchanged looks that Elvis’s dad saw. His dad crossed his arms looking dead at Elvis. “Right. What were you helping them with?” “Daddy I do-” “He saw a man running after us from down the street and waved us in here through his bedroom window. We went through the side fence and came through the back door. We just ran up the other staircase. We didn't know it was Elvis. We mean no disrespect” Maggie quickly said. Elvis’s dad looked from the girl's back to Elvis. After an awkward silence, Maggie spoke again. “You guys really got to take care of the hole in the side gate if you are worried about fans getting in.” His dad looked at Maggie and smiled “Thanks for letting me know” “Well I think that's our cue to dip” Maggie said walking and Rachel quickly followed “Dip?-” “Wait don't go out that-” Maggie opened the front door and walked out with Rachel. They were met with a bunch of screaming. They both looked at the entrance gate and saw a bunch of women dressed like they were straight out of an old movie. Maggie turned to look at the ticket lady….who wasn't there. She then looked over at the grass and noticed it looked like real…normal grass. She also noticed the parking lot was no longer there. She noticed some Cadis and an all-black Rolls-Royce in the driveway. Maggie looked at Rachel who was focused on the screaming girls in shock. “Rachel…” “Yea…” “I think we are in 1968…” “Yea…”

#elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis the king #elvis presley #elvis fandom #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #elvis fans #elvis movie #graceland #elvisaaronpresley #elvis1968 #vernon presley #real people #best friends

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fullofgutsndopamine · 11 days

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the night belongs to you (i must be someone new)

tw: dick joke, charlie uses drinking as a coping mechanism™️, fluff, classic hallmark movie tropes, use of woman/she/her pronouns briefly, cursing, delayed christmas fic, cursing, mention of the pandemic, charlie is a ball of anxiety/mention of anxiety, insta-love

the groan escapes him before he can finish, locking his phone and rubbing his forehead where a headache forms behind his eyes, a second from an aspirin hunt, washing it down with the cheap wine he keeps in the back of the refrigerator for this exact reason-

"Whatever you're thinking of doing-" Sam, charlies long time roommate and permanent thorn in his side speaks, his face downcast, "don't."

charlie groans, chucks his phone at the couch where it bounces twice and lands in a loud fall at Sam's feet.

"Nice." Sam says without fanfare, moving in time before charlie can chuck a pillow at his head.

"Look," Sam recovers quickly, "you're overthinking it-"

"Our town has ten people at most and eight of them legally can't vote."

"Dramatic," Sam says mildly, moving over it quickly, "that means you might actually stand a chance at wooing-"

knowing what’s coming, Sam quickly darts to the right and charlie, with practiced moves, quickly derails it for it to hit Sam right in his face, making his glasses clatter to his feet

"That's an illegal move, you dick!"

He clatters to the ground and pats on the floor for his glasses before he huffs, sits on the couch.

charlie opens his mouth to tell him how dramatic he is, but as if you read his mind your name flashes across his phone.

“Ah!” He yells the second it flashes across his screen, his hand shakes like it electrocuted him.

“Ah!” Sam yells back in response before his hand is on his chest, “Sorry, I got scared. What’s wrong now?”

“They messaged me.” charlie frowns, turning his phone over in his hand, “this is horrible.”

“You’ve spent the entire day pacing by the front door waiting for them to message you-“

“here-“

charlie chucks the phone at Sam and it ricocheted off his knee cap and falls, screen up at his feet.

“charlie,” sam clicks his tongue at him, “we aren’t 14 any longer, i’m not going to text them for you because you’re too chicken shit to do it yourself.”

“and you claim to love me.”

charlie sulks, drags his feet to the couch and flops onto it, covers his eyes with his forearm.

“They said they’d love to meet up this weekend.”

charlie groans, his flickers slide against his screen. him and sam both don’t speak on how his fingers shake, how he backspaces all the mistakes his clumsy fingers make-

“i’m doing it,” charlie warns, his face still on his phone, “it’s happening.”

“I just-“ Sam sighs, clicks his tongue.

He looks exhausted for a second, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders:

“I was thinking about it,” he continues, “and i just don’t know if our shitty hometown screams romantic first date to me, is all.”

charlie rolls his eyes, fingers sliding against his phone:

“too fucking late.” he says to the screen, locking it and pocketing his phone before he can regret it.

two towns over in a studio apartment, your roommate looks up from the laptop perched on her lap.

“so the town is a population of 1,127 people-“

“Yikes-“

“And it looks like 80% of them are over the age of 60-“

“except this chuckle fuck.”

“except your chuckle fuck”, she agrees, “Listen, i’m sure it’s fine-“

“or he could be a literal serial killer, Jillian!”

“Don’t full name me,” she rolls her eyes, “Look, I saw the pictures. it looks cute. Romantic, even. Their local middle school sings!”

“Perfect.” You slam your head back on the couch, “I can see the headlines now: local cat woman slained. came out the same way she came in: alone and-“

“Enough!” Jill chucks a pillow at your head: “You’ve been talking about him non stop for a week. you practically begged for this.”

“you make me sound desperate-“

“i don’t make you sound like shit-“ Jill interrupts you, “You wouldn’t shut up about him. at this point, I think i know his entire life story.”

the sigh comes out of you quickly, lowly and dreamily, your head falls back to hit the couch:

“He’s just so-“

“There it is,” Jill rolls her eyes, “Just go. let yourself have fun for once. And if it’s a bad date-you get a story out of it.”

“not if he kills me-“

You don’t dart away quick enough to miss the pillow.

the days leading up to the christmas festival drag and come quickly at the same time. you’re half expecting charlie to cancel-waiting for your phone to ring and a made up excuse to come up-a family emergency, a broken arm, something anything to get you out of this.

it doesn’t come.

your hands half shake as you’re getting ready-this isn’t necessarily new, but still something you’re thrilled about.

your phone dings in the background as you’re gently putting earrings in, and you can’t help the smile, even if the sting of rejection is there. excited to be able to say a “i told you so,” to Jillian-already planning to put pajamas on and find the shittiest reality television show you can-

instead, the text message makes your heart drop:

Hey! can’t wait for tonight. Meet you at the library? here’s the address again :-)

biting your lip, resting the urge to once again tell him he texts like your aged parents-instead, there’s an address attached to an obviously hand drawn map of his town, a big X over where the library is, along with a stick figure you assume is him, next to it, complete with a thumbs up.

surprisingly, the conversation up until now has flowed easily-you were half expecting to eventually find silence back, or a “that’s crazy” again and again but it never came-even this morning, was an elaborate text of his nightmare he had along with a “what could that possibly mean?”

ignoring the i told you so from Jillian instead, you brave the bitter cold and head to the library, still fighting the gnawing anxiety that tells you it’s too good to be true

charlie arrives thirty minutes early to no one’s fault but his own.

he tried to take his time for once in his life, but his belly ached and twisted whenever he thought of you, thought of the possibility of this being too good to be true- instead, he brushes snow off a half broken bench in front of the library and check his phone for any message of you canceling last second. when your name pops up on his phone his heart jumps, waiting for this to be the time, instead it’s some quip about his shitty handmade map that makes him laugh as he texts back.

charlie’s hands are pink.

he paces in front of the library now, balling his fists up and blowing on them gently before trying to shove them gently into his coat pocket, without trying to crush the small handful of flowers from a garden he definitely did not steal-

he’s too busy in his own head he doesn’t hear the car pull up behind him, the footprints in the snow, the hesitation-

“c-“ voice gently asks, hesitant, like it’s never spoken this name before, “charlie?”

he jumps when he turns around; acts like he doesn’t see you biting your lip to hide the smile that comes from it-

“H-hi,” he says gently, “hi. uh-“

he shakes his head, begs himself to not say something dumb-

“you look-“ he shakes his head, and for the first time in his life, words escape him for a second, “amazing.”

pink rises on your cheeks, not just from the cold. “you don’t look to bad yourself.”

he shrugs, suddenly unsure of himself but doesn’t let silence fall for too long-

“oh uh-here. this is for you.”

he struggles for a second before he produces a half wilted tiny bouquet of flowers-it’s obvious the cold hasn’t treated them well (and neither has the inside of charlie’s coat-) ignoring the side eye you give the small garden in front of the library that has the same flowers.

“they’re beautiful,” you say gently, hard to hear over the noise from passing townspeople.

he shrugs and you speak again, as you gently tuck the flowers into your own coat-

“you promised hot chocolate, i believe.”

“ah, yes.” he nods, “i believe i did-“

“lead the way.”

“We wish you a merry christmas! we wish you a merry christmas. we wish you a merry christmas and a happy new year-“ it’s off key at best but the band director smiles widely as half the kids lose interest, the other half craning their necks to find their parent in a surprisingly large crowd

“well,” charlie settles on, “the band hasn’t gotten much better.”

he grumbles it, like he expects these kids to be amazing already.

the tip of charlie’s nose is pink as he watches you rub your hands together, trying to keep any warmth.

“hot coco?” he offers instead. “the grand event should start soon”

“sure,” you finally say, “you talked it up enough.”

he leads into the attached town hall, where a mother in a you can’t scare me, i have kids shirt uses a ladle to scoop lukewarm hot chocolate out of a warming crockpot. her santa hat is crooked and she wears bright red glasses that take up half her face, but she’s smiling widely.

charlie hands over a crumbled dollar and receives two styrofoam cups back.

“no pressure,” you say as he leads back outside to the bitting cold, “but this is suppose to be the best hot chocolate ever, so-“

he snorts into the rim of a cup- “i promised mediocre hot chocolate.”

he takes a sip first, makes a face:

“i think this is just warm chocolate milk,” he says, “so, i guess i owe you a better cup.”

“this is definitely lukewarm chocolate milk,” you wrap your hand around the cup for warmth, “wow. i didn’t think it was possible to fuck up hot chocolate.”

he sighs, “i’ve lived here my entire life and the only constant is the shitty hot chocolate.”

“you’ve been here forever?”

a makeshift stage is full of important looking people moving around a podium, shuffling papers and craning their necks into the crowd, waiting for the right moment

he shrugs:

“for a long time it was just my ma and me. she’s big on community and traditions so this was right up her alley.”

you hum in response: “and i assume you were also one of the signing kids?”

he fakes mock hurt with his hand on his chest: “excuse you i was the best singing kid. i had a hat and everything.”

“does a hat instantly make you a good singer?”

he shrugs: “i don’t make the rules,”

you turn to the stage where the kids still stand, spinning in place and pulling at their coats. you notice they’re all wearing santa hats and bite back the smile as you imagine charlie on the bleachers, face pink and taking the singing very seriously.

“when i was little,” charlie continues, “the lights were bright enough that i spent all of december bitching to my mum about how bright it was and genuine concern that their electric bill would be too high.”

you can’t hide the smile now: “no fucking way.”

he laughs, shrugs: “are you too cold? do you want to leave?”

“i’ve never been cold in my life.” you insist, ignoring him rolling his eyes as he takes his own hat off his head and gently pulls it over yours. he moves your hair behind your ear as he pulls it down further, cups his hand around your pink nose.

“your poor nose is pink.”

“so is yours, you fool.”

“and yet i’m never better.” he insists, knowing his pink ears give it away every time. “jesus fuck. hold this for a second?”

he doesn’t give you much of an opportunity as he passes the almost gone cup of chocolate milk, using his teeth to pull his mittens off his hand, take his cup back and set it on the ground, pulls them gently onto your hand and rubs his hands over yours.

“this makes me seem dramatic.”

“you said it, not me.”

“excuse me?” you’re laughing, despite yourself, the anxiety of this date falling off your shoulders the more he talks, “how dare you. i was born in the midwest-“

there’s loud feedback from the microphone as someone approaches it, taps it twice and smiles as the crowd groans-

“welcome, everyone. to Elmwood’s 22nd annual tree lighting-“

charlie leans over, “this is the mayor, unfortunately.”

he doesn’t elaborate the one sided beef with the mayor, but you’re too busy thinking about his hands, how they keep periodically come to you, wrap around your hands even in his warmed gloves as he rubs your hands as to keep them warm.

“Let’s hear it!”

you weren’t listening, looking to charlie who nudges you gently: “cmon then, we have to hear it or no lights, right?”

the crowd gives a half assed ho ho ho! that the mayor shakes his head at: “cmon, elmwood. i know we can do better than that-“

charlie cups his hands around his mouth, an overpowering “ho ho ho!” that’s laced in sarcasm but bites through the crowd.

he turns to you with a content smile: “i told you,” he says, “i take the tree lighting very seriously.”

you open your mouth to speak but with a big flourish the mayor flips the switch and the entire square around the library goes from dark, where it’s almost impossible to see charlie besides his form-to so obnoxiously bright that you squint, have to wait for your eyes to adjust

all the pine trees are wrapped in multicolored lights, strands upon strands of them choke and dip around the tree, the brightened white stars on top of them-on the floor around them are brightened deer, heads dip and grove in a practiced routine, bows around the trunk of every tree

“wow.” you finally breathe out

finally, charlie smiles: “finally.”

the middle school choir kicks off a redemption of jingle bells that takes you a full second to try and recognize what it is-charlie’s lips are near your ear, he sings gently to the song as his finger points to all the things you missed; the icicle lighting around the roof of the building, the christmas tree and cut out sleigh that sits on top of the building. suddenly, charlie is the excited 8 year old again, taking in the lights and the wonder of the holiday, and you’re suddenly the same, completely understanding why it’s so special to him, why he chose this of all places.

“i believe santa is inside, too.”

“oh?” you say gently, “the man of the hour?”

“i don’t like to brag, but him and i are on a first name basis.”

“oh?” you’re laughing, “well, i can’t miss this.”

his hand reaches into the space, an offer: “shall we?”

with no hesitation, you grab his hand, your fingers wrapping around his like it’s where they’ve always belonged:

“lead the way.”

“you trust me?” his voice is practically a whisper, “even after the shitty hot chocolate?”

“the shitty chocolate milk,” you correct, teeth chattering from excitement, “and sure. but you owe me a hot chocolate.”

“next time?”

it’s risky, making a plan for another date before this one is even over, but his feet take off before he can second guess it, and your voice is gentle behind him:

“next time,” it says gently, “yeah. definitely”

#caroline writes #charlie slimecicile #charlie slimecicle x you #charlie slimesicle x reader #charlie slimesicle fanart #slimecicle x y/n #slimecicle x you #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle fic #slimecicle imagine #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle

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queeniecook · 5 months

Text

June 10

Things had been quiet since the baby shower for Vera and Aubree. It was also the last time Jillian got to see Dakota in person. To touch his skin, to smell his scent. To feel his body heat. They’ve kept in touch via phone calls, text messages and video chats, but it isn’t the same. Sometimes, you just crave another person’s presence.

Jillian is enjoying her part-time job at the bookstore, though she misses the one back in Brindleton Bay. Andrew has been working on getting his grades up in summer school. Her Mom has been trying to put some more homey touches on the house. It’s one of the things about moving around so much that make it hard – not having those homey touches. Her family didn’t move around like this when she was younger and it makes Jillian worry about her little brother. He’s not able to really put down roots like she was able to do.

Her father goes to work everyday – she’s been checking with his co-workers behind his back, sneaky but necessary – and he comes home most nights at a decent time.

But not tonight.

Jillian tracked him down at a tavern in the next small town over. He was passed out on the bar, she had a heck of a time getting him to her car but the bar tender helped her thankfully.

“You need to support more of your weight, Dad.” She mumbles in annoyance to him. He perks up a little and tries at least. She can’t believe she’s having to do this. Thankfully Andrew had wanted to go to a movie and Denise went with him, so they wouldn’t be home to see her dragging in the man of the house.

After Jillian manages to unlock the front door and deposit her Dad on the couch, she lectures him.

“What were you thinking??? What if I hadn’t tracked you down, were you going to spend the night in your car in the bar parking lot??” She questions him, she’s mad and even though it’s been clear that her Dad has a problem for a while, she still doesn’t understand. Joey has even tried to help her understand but she doesn’t, maybe it’s because until this past year, she had always seen her Dad as her hero.

“Stop it!” Garrett yells, something he rarely does – whether it’s at this kids or his wife. “I’m…I’m the parent! Not you!”

Jillian just sits there, staring him down. She isn’t used to her Dad yelling and it stings a bit. “Maybe you should start acting like it then.”

“Leave me awone.” His mumbles after a few moments, slurring a little. Oddly enough, most of his brief tirade had been clear.

“This problem isn’t going away, Dad. It’s just going to get worse.” She tells him before rising from her perch on the side of the couch. Her Dad mutters something she can’t make out and doesn’t want to. She leaves him on the couch, calling her Mom.

~A hour later

Garrett is asleep on the couch, while Mother and Daughter have a chat in Jillian’s bedroom. Denise arranged for Andrew to spend the night at one of his friend’s houses.

“He yelled at you?” Denise asks her only daughter “And was passed out on the bar?”

Jillian nods. She had explained what happened to her Mom. “I think we might have to do an intervention.”

Denise absently plays with her hair, she had seen a lot of those on TV and never thought she’d actually have to partake in one.

“I can talk to Dakota and Joey. They might have an idea of how to go about it…” Jillian trails off with a sigh.

“We’re going to have to and he’s going to rehab. I’m done handling this situation with kiddy gloves and hoping it gets better. I love you father dearly, he’s the one for me but I won’t sit by any longer and watch him possibly ruin our family and deep down, I know he doesn’t want that to happen.” Denise states, finding a resolve she didn’t know she has until this moment.

Her Mom goes to the bedroom she normally shares with her Dad as Jillian goes into the bathroom to brush her teeth, she feels a sudden bout of nauseous hit her.

She figures it’s nerves, thankfully she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet and is able to get the taste of puke out of her mouth before bed.

#the grant legacy #ts4 legacy #generation 2 #jillian ambrose #denise ambrose #garrett ambrose #ts4 #sims 4 #sims4 #thesims4 #simsstories #ts4 story #sims4 story #sims4 storytelling #ambrose family

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zorosleftshoe · 1 year

Text

Christmas Miracle - (t.c)

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x reader

Warnings: swearing (I think?)

I always had an eye for a soul pining for another. It started in third grade when Jillian would give her string cheese to Greg at lunch even though it was her favorite snack. From then on it was easier than breathing. Misty would laugh at me when I would point out the obvious boy pining after the oblivious girl. She would say “it’s funny you notice because you can’t see Timothée’s obvious feelings for you”. I would laugh but deep in my mind it always worried me that she was right.

Timmy and I had met at a coffee shop one autumn morning. Neither of us paying attention and too stressed or less to care. It wasn’t until he’d spilled his coffee on me that either of us looked up. Our friendship blossomed that day. We would hangout often and when he was away FaceTime was our savior.

He always told me that I was easy to talk to. That I was his best friend and he’d be lost if I weren’t around. The feeling was mutual. So when Misty would bring up the idea that Timmy had more intense feelings were me I would shut down. Push those thoughts to the back of my head and just pray that she was wrong.

“There’s a quiz in this magazine.” Timmy said sitting up slightly from his horizontal position on the couch. “How well do you know your best friend?” I giggled and motioned for him to continue. “What’s their birthday?”

“May 28, 1996.” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s Misty’s birthday.” I nodded and he glared at me.

“December 27, 1995.” A smile broke out across his face.

“What’s their favorite snack?” I quickly answered and he nodded. “Favorite movie?” Again. “Favorite city?” Again. He kept asking questions and I continued to answer them correctly.

“When we’re you planning on telling me those weren’t the actual questions?” He looked over to me his curls nearly covering his eyes and gave a smile.

“I wasn’t. Just wanted to make sure you really knew me.” He came over and plopped down on the couch next to me throwing his arm across my shoulders. “Can I tell you something?” I nodded gulping loudly. “I love you.” I giggled.

“I love you too.” He groaned throwing his head back.

“Not platonically.” He quickly grabbed my hands and looked into my eyes. I could feel my anxiety beginning to spread. “I’m in love with you.” I looked away nervously. “I want to take you on dates and hold your hand in public. Or go on road trips and cuddle.” He rested his hand against my cheek. “And I know you love me too.” I pulled away from his hand and stood up.

“Timmy, I can’t.” He stood up and tried to reach for me again but I took a step back. “T, you know I don’t let anyone in. This could ruin our friendship and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” He shook his head.

“I thought you didn’t let anyone in cause you wanted me?” I shook my head slowly. “So you don’t love me?” I sighed heavily.

“I do love you.”

“Not in a way that matters.” He yelled out. I went to reach for him but this time he was the one to move away. “Tell me you don’t love me and I will walk out of this room and be done with it.”

“Timmy,” he put his hand up.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I will let this go.” It felt like a dagger had been stabbed right through my chest. I did love Timothée, more than anything. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about being with him romantically. But then I thought about what would happen if it ended badly. So before I could truly understand what I was doing I opened and said what he wanted to hear.

“I don’t love you.” His mouth sunk into a line and he nodded his head. I watched him grab his coat and tears started to well up in my eyes. “T, don’t go.” He scoffed. “I don’t wanna lose you. I love you.” He turned on his heels and glared at me.

“Platonically.” He thought for a moment and leaned in towards me. His lips met mine and my knees became weak. I melted into his touch. He pulled away and looked into my eyes. “I would never hold your feelings against you, mon amour. But I won’t be lied to.” And with that he turned and left.

Two weeks had passed with no word from Timothée. My heart ached for him. I spent the last days thinking about what I truly wanted. My whole life I had built walls up around my heart. Every heartbreak I would add another brick. Until finally the walls were finished and no one was allowed in. Timmy was the only exception. He would poke and prod at a brick until it became unstable and crumbled. I wasn’t sure when but at some point he had broken down my walls and it wasn’t until I lost him that I realized what happened. It was a sneak attack. Gorilla warfare.

I threw my coat on along with my boots and stepped out into the blizzard. Timmy’s mother’s house was only about 10 minutes away so instead of risking my life to drive, I began to trudge along the sidewalk. I pulled my beige trechcoat closer to my body and nuzzled my nose into my scarf. The snow continued to come down. I arrived at his house and knocked on the door. His mother answered and she gave me a smile.

“Hi, sweetheart. If you’re looking for Timmy he isn’t home.” A frown made its way onto my face and she rubbed my upper arm. “You can come inside and wait if you’d like. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just head home and give him a call later. At the time it was something I wanted to say in person.” She nodded and we bid our goodbyes. I sighed heavily once the door shut. My eyes welled up with tears and I couldn’t tell if it was from my heartbreaking or the cold. The snow behind me began to crunch and I turned around. Timmy stood there looking at me. His curls covered in snow and his eyes a glossy red. Without saying anything I raced towards him. Once I was close enough I jumped into his arms and crashed my lips into his. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I could feel the tears we were both shedding. Our lips molded together. His warm touch immediately ridding the cold from my body. He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry, T.” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “I, I think I’m in love with you too.” The snow continued to fall on us but we didn’t have a care in the world.

“I should have called.” He said softly.

“No, T. You had every right to be mad. I was being ignorant. My whole life I had built up these walls in order to protect myself from getting hurt and I ended up hurting you.” He smiled.

“Mon amour, I fell in love breaking down your walls. These last two weeks hurt like hell, but you’re here now.” I grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him in once again. My head began to swirl as his cologne filled my nostrils. “Fuck. You’ve no idea how long I wanted to do that.”

“Does this officially make us a couple?” I asked still trying to catch my breath. He nodded and pressed his lips against mine again.

“I’m all yours as long as you’re all mine.”

#timothee x reader #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader

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twicetheheartx2 · 1 year

Text

BRUH WTF, NETFLIX!!!!!! YOU CAN'T END IT LIKE THAT, I STILL HAVE QUESTIONS THAT HAVEN'T BEEN ANSWERED!!!!! ALSO HOW DARE YOU!!!!!!!

Anyway, I finished season 2 of Warrior Nun and to avoid giving spoilers I'm going to be yelling about this season under the read more.

First off....

I still don't believe Shotgun Mary is fucking dead. YOU CAN'T KILL A BAD BITCH LIKE THAT

Loved Sister Yasmine, she was delightful.

That scene of Lilith fighting and killing all those dude while she was locked in that .... jail??? or whatever... THAT WAS SOOOO SEXY OF HER.

Ohhh!!!! And Sister Camila getting a bigger role and more development and... just more of her in general loved it. Her hair is also so cute.

AVA GIVING BEATRICE A KISS ON THE CHEEK IN THE FIRST EPISODE AND THEN BEATRICE'S FACE AFTER THE KISS.

Ava getting Beatrice drunk after finding out she's never really drank alcohol before and to dance with her.. And Bea getting so nervous about it beforehand.

Drunk Beatrice was so cute and carefree, girl deserved that. BUT ALSO AVA BEING SO MESMERIZED BY BEA AND THE WAY SHE WAS LOOKING AT HER.

HEHE, that part where that girl was flirting with Beatrice to get Ava jealous and then Ava actually getting jealous. And that girl totally wanted to hit on Beatrice, getting Ava jealous was just an added bonus. And Bea was so cute and nervous while being hit on.

And then Ava calling Beatrice jealous (which she lowkey was) about Miguel. And her denying it but also having a valid reason for being suspicious of Miguel.

Also MOTHER SUZANNE SUPERION I AM IN LOVE YOUUUUUU I'M SO GLAD YOU DIDN'T DIE!!!!!

Also her backstory, that brings up the question...so how old was Sister Shannon then???

Also Jillian coming in clutch to help the Warrior Nuns. Sad that she kinda always fucks up when it comes to helping them find out what they are cuz she gets to caught up in her desire to save Michael, get Michael back, or the Arc, etc. But in the end she does help them overall.

Also MOTHER SUPERION IS CAMILA AND AVA'S MOM NOW.

Also ew, why did they make that one scene of Adriel and Lilith.... like that... so WHY DID THEY FUCKING KISS??!!!!

Also Lilith, baby girl, get the fuck away from him, he's manipulating you. LOVE YOUR NEW LOOK THO

Also I'm sad about Duretti getting killed. I actually ended up liking him.

FATHER VINCENT YOU ARE ON THIN FUCKING ICE YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT BASTARD. AT LEAST YOU REALIZED YOU WERE WRONG BUT STILL....

I already made post about this but... I FUCKING KNEW HE WAS MICHAEL. Sad that he died, and that in the end it was for nothing.

Camila shipping Avatrice and talking to Beatrice about loving the Warrior Nun.... GIRL YOU SOUND LIKE YOU'RE SPEAKING FROM EXPERIENCE IS THERE SOMETHING YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE CLASS???!!!

Also every Christian/Catholic person that joined Ariel, you did not pass the vibe check.

(And this is where my religious upbringing comes into play)

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU DECIDE TO FOLLOW HIM... AFTER HEARING ABOUT THE BIBLE'S WARNING OF THE ANTICHRIST????

LIKE ADRIEL LITERALLY TICKED EVERY FUCKING BOX THE BIBLE SAYS THE ANTICHRIST WOULD DO AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO QUESTION THAT????

ALSO AN ANGEL WOULDN'T HAVE THE POWER TO FUCKING PERFORM ALL THOSE MIRACLES OR PLAGUES??? HELL, THE ANGEL OF DEATH WAS ONE OF THE PLAGUES. LIKE BIBLICALLY NO ANGEL HAS EVER BEEN ABLE TO THAT, THEY ALSO NEVER EVER CLAIMED TO BE GOD. EXCEPT LUCIFER WHO WANTED TO BE AS POWERFUL AS GOD, AND LIKE, FREEWILL.

Fuck Adriel, bastard got what was coming to him.

Also.... AVATRICE KISS!!!!! AVATRICE LOVE CONFESSION. AVA TRYING TO SACRIFICE HERSELF TO MAKE SURE BEATRICE AND HER FRIENDS LIVE.

... but also we got the kiss but at what cost???

Also Ava is coming back right???!!!!

IS REYA.... GOD????

I HAD A SUSPICION THAT THE TARASKS WERE THE ACTUAL ANGELS OR AT LEAST HEAVENLY CREATURES... since the Tarask's skeleton in the catacombs was made of divinium.

Oh and one last thing....

WHAT IS LILITH????

Cuz we know Adriel is manipulating her and he's a fucking liar. Also she better get horns, if my theory that she's a new version of a Tarask or the Warrior Nun Tarask equivalent.... is corrected.

#warrior nun spoilers #warrior nun season 2 #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #sister lilith #sister camila #shotgun mary #mother superion #sister yasmine #jillian salvius #michael salvius #miguel #ava x sister beatrice #ava x beatrice #warrior nun #twicetheheart speaks

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thatsgay-writes · 1 year

Note

Hiya! I'm not entirely sure if you're requests are open, but.

Reader is the best sister warrior. (The best fighter. Aside from bearrice of course.) And she is tasked with protecting and training Ava, Reader has some large and smaller scars across both her back and abdomen. (Ava sees them when r wears a sports bra or walks in on her changing her tshirt and asks about them. Ava also has a crush on r.) (Reader also never took the vows like Mary.)

The struggle between choosing to set this in season 1 or 2 was real.

Reader and Ava are slightly established.

Not ProofRead

"While Beatrice helps you practice phasing through the wall, I get to teach you how to fight." You tell Ava as the two of you stand in a large square mat that was provided by Jillian. You let out a whistle as you walk towards the rack of weapons on the wall. "Wow, times like these makes me wish I never... left my other job." You pick up a staff and try and get use to it's weight by spinning it a few times. "What? Nothing to say? Your usually so talkative." You say to Ava as you turn to face her, only to catch her eyes trailing back up your body. While you were not apart of the warrior nuns by way of scripture and not made to wear the habit like Beatrice and Camila, you still dressed in over sized long sleeved clothing. So seeing you in a skin tight sleeveless shirt was a nice surprise. "Sorry, just have no complaints about this arrangement." Ava says with a small smirk and you can't help but laugh. "Well then let's get started."

---

"Again." You say as you stand over Ava, staff pointed at the center of your chest. "C'mon we've been practicing for almost two hours!" Ava complains as she stands up. "Yeah and all the other warrior nun and guards are gonna let up when you get tired and sore." Ava groans as she gets back in to a fighting position. "I already told you, beat me and we're done." You barely finish your sentence as Ava charges you and tackles you to the ground. You try to maneuver her off of you but she knees you in the stomach and you concede. "Looks like training is over." Ava says with a smirk as she looks down on you, stilled pinned below her. "Great, so maybe you should get up and we could go get post work out smoothies or something." You tell her as you watch her eyes roam over you and you try your hardest to ignore your nervousness. "I don't know... I kind of like where I'm at."

You roll your eyes at her obvious attempt of flirting and try to return the comment with one of your own but are interrupted by Ava placing her lips on yours. You relax into the kiss and let Ava take the lead. She finally lets go of your wrists, which allows you to cup her face and neck when you feel her hands slip under the hem of your shirt. Ava breaks the kiss as she feels the uneven terrain of your skin under hands and goes to lift your shirt but you stop her. "Stop. Let me up." Ava looks like she's about to argue but you repeat yourself. "Ava, please." Ava gives in and gets off of you, holding her hand out to help you up but you ignore it and stand as fast as you can. "I'll... I'll see you later, ok?" You say to attempt to be casual but the way you practically sprint out of the room doesn't help.

---

You stare at yourself shirtless in the mirror. Eyes and hands tracing over the scars you accumulated over the years, before joining the nuns. You were so entranced, you hadn't heard Ava yelling your name from down the hall, outside the door, or even knocking. So she let herself in like she has done many times before, but this time she lets out a gasp that finally knocks you out of your stupor. "Ava! I-" You move fast to try and find the shirt you had been wearing just minutes ago. Ava doesn't say a word and silently walks up behind you before placing her fingers on one of the larger scars across your back. You freeze from the contact. "Is this what you didn't want me to see? Scars?" Ava asked confused. Everyone in the Warrior Nuns had scars, it wasn't surprising after being in countless battles. So why were you so secretive of yours?

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and turn to face Ava. "They're not just scars, well they are, but that's not why I was hiding them, well it kind of-" Words were just spewing out of your mouth at this point as you became more and more nervous and unsure of what to say. "Hey, y/n, breathe. Ok? It's just you and me right now, so just breathe." Ava says as she holds your face in her hands to get you to focus. "There ya go, just focus on me nothing else." Your breathing finally settles and you relax yourself into Ava's hold, causing her to smile. "Now you don't have to tell me why you hide your scars now or ever, just know that if you ever want to, I am here." Ava tells you serious and sincerely, a stark contrast to her usual blunt and joking manner.

"No, it's- I should tell you. I mean we kind of have something going on and you should know, in all, what you're getting into." You say as you sit on your bed and pat the spot next to you. "As you know, I never took the vows to be a full warrior nun. I kind of respect and follow them to a certain point. When I first joined the Nun, I was offered to take the vow but I declined. Not because I'm more loyal to Father Vincent than the church like Mary but because... I don't see myself as worthy enough." Ava almost immediately opens her mouth to defend you from yourself. "Please just let me finish."

"I know that doesn't necessarily make sense, especially since in most people's eyes, me just liking any gender makes me unworthy. But that's just their own distorted and incorrect views... Besides the point. Before I joined the Nuns I was a hitman, a gun for hire, not even for hire really. The man who... "owned" me, would beat us up if we didn't do what he asked." You can see Ava's eyes widen in shock, "Why did you stop?" She can't stop herself from asking. You let out a sigh and ring your hands together nervously. "It was my last mission. Kill a foreign diplomat before he could sign something. That's all I was told, I was given a location, date, and the exact time to kill the man. It was routine at this point. I would scale a building across the street or a few buildings away, line up sniper and wait..."

You feel tears well up in your eyes as you think back on your memory and Ava places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "The time hit and I fired my shot... and he leaned down. He bent his head down to sign the paper and I missed and... his family had been with him that day, they stood in front of him as he signed this paper..." Tears were spilling out of your eyes now and you wanted to stop, to not relive this memory but you pushed through. "I hit a kid. Straight in the stomach, where his dad's head was supposed to be. I didn't know what to do, so I ran, hid, and just kept replaying the moment over and over and over again in my head. How do you come back from something like that? How do I lay my head down at night and not see the kids face over and over again?" You say as sobs rack your body and Ava pulls you in closer, not knowing what to say. "Luckily, he survived... If he didn't I don't think I'd be here today." Ava finally lets the tears she was holding back fall.

"It's not your fault." Ava cringes, wishing she had found a better way to word what she needed to say. "Not my fault? I pulled the trigger. I missed! It wouldn't have been any better if I didn't miss. Imagine being the reason a kid has to watch his own father be murdered!" You yell as you stand up and start pacing the room. "That's... I didn't say that correctly." Ava stands up from your bed as well and stops you from pacing. "Look, I don't know exactly what to say in this situation but I will tell you what I think. You couldn't have known the mission would go wrong like that. You were put into an impossible situation by who ever was in charge of you. You can't shoulder all the blame onto yourself. I won't take away or minimize the pain you feel you deserve but I will carry it with you." You look into Ava's eyes surprised by her statement. Ava puts a finger to your lips to stop you from arguing with her. "I'm not going to run because of what you told me because I know you. I know that you feel deep guilt and regret for what you have done in your past. But I also know who you are now and I know that you are doing everything in your power to make up for what you did in the past. That's the Y/n I fell for. Not a perfect version you try to present to everyone else but the one that comes with a couple bumps and bruises... a couple scars. And until you are able to see yourself the way I see you, and even after then, you're stuck with me." All you can do is smile at Ava's words and feel the rush of relief as you pull her into you and into a kiss. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you." Is all you can say as you lay your head onto her shoulder and let the mask you were trying so hard to keep on, crumble.

#warrior nun #warrior nun x reader #x reader #ava silva #ava silva x reader #ava x reader

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uses-for-fics · 5 months

Text

Tactona 420

Anders Holmvik x Reader

Another Monday morning and another boring ass meeting. Alice had been droning on and on about numbers when she finally introduced the new product of the week. Apparently it had been some toy race car that would link with a headset. Just as she caught your interest, she had lost it. She had started up a new rant about some meeting she was going to attend. You really didn’t pay much attention to her squeaky voice. The only good thing that ever came out of these meetings was getting to spend some time with Anders. Not necessarily ‘with’ Anders but hey, getting to sit behind him as he made jokes with his buddies was close enough for you. His laugh was melodic, his hair always looked so soft and fluffy. Don’t even get started on his smile, it’s so perfect. You always got butterflies in your belly whenever he’d pass by your cubicle and gave you a friendly hello. Oh but how could you forget his hands. Sometimes you’d imagine what they could do, so big and yet so gentle. It’s like you could feel them on you right now. Or maybe it’s cause they were, you hadn’t realized you zoned out until you felt Anders poking your shoulder.

“Hey Y/n, you good? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a minute now”. He smiled at you. God if you weren’t sitting down right now, your knees would’ve buckled. Adam butted in. “Yeah dude you should’ve seen your face! You were so spaced out! I was going to stick a pen in your mouth but Anders wouldn’t let me.” You turned to look at Adam as your smile fell. “Thank you Adam.” You said flatly.

“Yeahhhhh. So I actually wanted to ask you, were you thinking on joining the Tactona 420? Blake, Adam and I are making a group but hey wouldn’t hurt to have some friendly competition.”

You smiled back at Anders. “I would love to!”

“Sounds good!” He got up from his seat.

“But.” “But?” He stopped in his spot. You dropped your head. “I can’t, I promised Jillian Id fix her computer today. Apparently she ‘accidentally’ downloaded malware when she was downloading videos of ‘cute cats’, I don’t know why she just doesn’t say she was trying to illegally watch magic mike again, we’ve all seen her ogle face before.”

Adam laughed. “Yeah it’s the same one you make when you’re looking at Ders! Ooooo burn!” He lifted his hand to high five Blake but Blake just shook his head and dropped Adam’s hand down. “Nuh uh.”

Anders chuckled. “Thank you Adam.” He said sarcastically. “Why don’t you go with Blake and start modifying the car?” Adam stood up with Blake. “Oh hell yeah, it’s gonna beat the crap out of all of your guys' cars!” Adam yelled as Blake pushed him out of the meeting room. Anders rolled his eyes. “Well if you finish soon, it’d be great to have you there.” He smiled but quickly covered it up with a cough. “As a cheerleader obviously cause we’d soooo wreck your car up quickly,,,,dude.” He gave your shoulder a light punch.

You awkwardly laughed. “Ha ha. Yeah dude, I’ll so try to be there.” You gave him finger guns. “Guess I’ll see you later dude.” He started walking out of the meeting room backwards not breaking eye contact. You laughed as he gave you a wink and finger guns back. This man was going to be your demise. You decided you should start working on Jillian’s computer cause from all those shady pirating sites she has visited, you could only imagine how fucked it was going to be. A good two or three hours passed before your back had started to feel sore from sitting there for a while. You made calls all day for work but at least then you’d try to distract yourself by drawing at your desk or walking around your cubicle or staring at Anders. It’s not weird! It wasn’t your fault that your cubicle was right across from his and it definitely wasn’t your fault if your eyes occasionally would wander over there and would watch whatever dumb activity him and his friends were doing instead of work. You stretched your back until you felt a crack and stood up.

Maybe you could find something to snack on before having to get back to Jillian’s desk. You walked into the break room to find Adam smashing his toy car’s cover with a hammer and yelling. “I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING!!! Oh hey y/n.” He put down the hammer and toy car cover.

“Heyyy Adam. Um you ok buddy?” You stood by the entrance, not wanting to get closer to him.

“No I’m not ok. Blake killed his rat and Anders doesn’t want to join my team so now I have to mod my own car but I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING!!” You shifted on your feet weighing if you should help him or not. You were basically almost done with Jillian’s computer. Probably a half hour more and you’d be done but, this is Adam. He’s always so moody and he’s always joking about how you like Anders. He wasn’t wrong but you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction, or maybe you could. If you helped him maybe he could help you out. You smiled and walked closer to his car. “Maybe I could help.”

Adam’s head jerked up to look at you. “Are you serious?” You nodded. “For sure! I’m clearing Jillian’s computer right now. I know a thing or two about tech, all I need to do is mod your car into being faster than the rest.”

Adam jumped up. “Fuck yes!! Let’s start building right now so I can wipe Anders stupid smug smile with my dust.” You grabbed Adam by the collar before he could head out of the room. “Woah there! I didn’t even get to say what I get in return.” Adam shook his head. “Uhh doy dude, you get to spend time with me obviously! What else could you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “Gross. Actually, I wanted to see if you could setupadatewithAndersandI.”

Adam’s face twisted. “What?”

You groaned and looked down. “I wanted to see if you could set up a date with Anders and I.” Adam broke into laughter. You huffed. “Fine I won’t help you!” Adam grabbed your arm before you could walk away. “Dude I’m laughing cause that’s so easy. Have you not seen the way he acts around you? ‘Look at me I’m Anders! I can’t walk around y/n because she makes my legs shake! I’m so stupid and tall” Adam’s walked around mocking Anders.

You grabbed the stuff for his car. “Shut up that’s not true. Now let’s go fix up your car.” Adam continued mocking Anders all the way to your desk. You had been fixing up the car for a couple minutes now occasionally slapping Adam’s hand away before he could fuck something up. He’d finally gotten distracted by something. He gasped loudly making you jump in your seat. “Adam! What the fuck!” You turned to him noticing the book in his hands. He was looking through your sketchbook. “Adam! Give that back!” You tried to reach out for the book but he scooted back. “No way dude! You’re so down bad for Anders!!! I knew you liked him but there’s no way you actually have drawings of him!” “Adam that’s not funny. Please give it back.” You kept trying to reach for it but Adam kept scooting away from you. “They’re not half bad, maybe if you showed them to him he could overlook the whole stalker thing and ask you out.” You groaned. “I have no idea why I ever decided to help you! You’re such an idiot!” Adam stopped. “Hey! I may be an idiot but I am not stupid! At least I try to go for a date when I like a girl and I mean really try! You haven’t even tried to make a single attempt at asking out Anders the whole time that you’ve worked here. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me.” With that, Adam turned to walk out of your cubicle but bumped into the side wall.

You giggled. “Maybe you’re right Adam. I should try. How about we go win this race and after we’ve wiped Anders, I ask him out.” Adam smiled. “HELL YEAH! LETS KICK ASS!”

He ran out of the cubicle fist pumping. “I’m not done with the car yet!” You yelled but he was too far already. You turned back to the car, you had to fix this car like if your life depended on it.

You managed to finish fixing up the car not long after, finally arriving to where the races were being held. Adam turned to look at you. “Dude! Took you long enough! I’ve been waiting for you for hourssssss!!!”

“It hasn’t even been 30 minutes!” You yelled back as you walked to him.

Anders turned to face you from his spot next to Adam. “Hey! You made it Y/n!”

“Hey Ders.” You stand next to him and smile.

Anders face started to turn a bit red. “Ders? You’ve never called me Ders before.” Your smile fell. He quickly went to speak. “I like it! You make it sound nice.” You got bashful. “Ha thanks I guess. Just thought we’re close enough to use it.” You looked up at him. “There’s actually something I wanted to tell you.” You placed your hand on his hoodies zipper.

He looked down at you and gulped. “What’s up.” You smirked and then zipped up his hoodie. “After the race.” You winked and went to go stand next Adam.

You handed Adam the updated controller and started explaining the buttons. Just as you finished up explaining them, Jillian got into position to start up the new race. “Start your engines!” She put the flag up in the air. You handed Adam the headset. “Good luck.” You walked away and went off to the sidelines. Anders winked at you and put on his headset. You face heated up. At least he couldn’t see you right now. “Go!” Jillian yelled as she threw the flag down. Just as the race started, it ended. Blake had ran in a few laps left, Adam had blocked the tunnel causing a blockage on the track. Anders flipped his car making it a ramp so Blake could jump it and win. They all hugged and jumped together as they cheered.

After they had their little celebration, Anders stepped away and walked over to you. “Hey.” You looked at him. “Hey.” He bumped his shoulder with yours. “Soooo what did you want to talk about?”

You got bashful. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to go out sometime.” You turned away from him.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah. Like on a date.” You started getting nervous. Maybe Adam had been punking you this whole time and wanted you to embarrass yourself. Before you could freak out more, Anders had answered.

“Sure.” Your eyes widen. “I’m so glad you asked actually, I’ve been so nervous to ask to be honest.”

“Really?” You smiled up at him. “Yeah I actually didn’t think you felt anything for me and just thought I was a boring ass coworker until I saw your drawings”Your face turned beet red. “Oh no.” You covered your face with your hands. “Oh no no no. You’re gonna think I’m a creep!”

He grabbed your wrists and moved your hands from your face. “No! Not at all. I was confused at first to be honest. I noticed you kept staring at me and jotting something down so when you left to the bathroom one day I scoped your cubicle and found your open sketchbook to a drawing of me. By the way I got to say you’re really good at catching my handsome face. I’d love to pose for you anytime.” He smirked.

You laughed. Your face could physically not get any redder. “Yeah, maybe you should. There’s actually this pretty cool art museum I like to visit.”

Anders beamed. “I love museums! There’s currently a Scandinavian exhibit I’ve been wanting to check out!”

You slapped his shoulder. “No way! I’ve heard of it! I’ve been wanting to check it out on my days off!”

Anders intertwined his hands with yours. “How about we go together?”

You inched closer to him. “I would definitely not say no to that.” Just as you guys inched closer, Adam yelled.

“I did that you guys! That was all me!” Blake grabbed Adam. “Dude shut up.” Blake pushed Adam to the elevator and everyone started heading out too. “Well.” Anders cleared his throat. “I guess we should head back to work.”

You let go of his hand. “I guess so.” You got on your tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “Last one there is a rotten egg.” You gave him a light shove and ran towards the elevator. He smiled and ran after you. “Just wait til I catch up to you!”

#i’m so tired #my fic #x reader #workaholics fic #workaholics #anders holmvik fic #anders holmvik x reader #anders holmvik #anders holm #fiction #my fic writing #my fanfiction

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paintedscales · 7 months

Text

FFXIV Write 2023 :: Day 16

Prompt :: Jerk Characters :: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Jillian, Ywain Deepwell Notes :: Heavy on the Lancer Job dialog Word Count :: 2,256

FFXIV Write 2023 Master List

Nomin had awoken early that morning, having been more than grateful for a warm and soft bed that night at the Roost. After several weeks traveling the road and riding a carriage, not to mention sailing across the Sirensong Sea all the way to Eorzea, that bed was a blessing from Nhaama if Nomin ever wanted to give thanks to the gods of the Steppe.

However, Nomin had stood at the foot of the stairs that led up to the Lancers’ Guild. She took in the appearance of the building, much like she had the Archers’ Guild, and noted its banners. Red and black with a gold embroidered image of a lance upon it. She could make no mistake that this is where she needed to be in order to make good on her word that she would go there.

Entering the building, Nomin glanced about before spotting the receptionist desk and approaching it. Sounds of wood striking wood were heard in the room over, as were the grunts and yells of individuals actively training. There was a hyuran woman there at the counter, a determined smile on her face as she greeted Nomin with a small wave.

“Welcome to the Lancers’ Guild, adventurer,” the woman said. “Haven’t seen you around before, so if you seek to refine your skills with the polearm, then you have come to the right place. Here at the Lancers’ Guild, spear wielders gather to train with one another, and further hone their abilities under the tutelage of our fine instructors.”

The hyuran woman then looked over Nomin, noting the bow and quiver upon her person. She then straightened her posture and inquired: “... you…are here to register with our guild, are you not?”

“Mhm. I told Miounne that I would come here and see about joining,” Nomin informed her. She could swear she saw the receptionist breathe a sigh of relief.

“Wonderful! Then allow me to introduce myself, I am Jillian, and I oversee all matters going in and out of the Lancers’ Guild. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance…” she allowed her sentence to linger, looking at Nomin somewhat expectantly.

“Nomin. Pleasure to meet you as well.”

“No~min…” Jillian repeated, getting a feel for the name. She smiled, giving Nomin a once over before clearing her throat. “Very well! Before we can get you properly situated within our ranks, it is my job to inform you of Gridania’s history with the spear and the art that we teach here.”

Motioning toward her right, Nomin looked at what seemed to be an art piece that looked like a large version of the masks the she saw the Wood Wailers and those dressed in red wore -- but if it were more round and perhaps would have been used to cover the entire face rather than just masking the eyes. There were crossed spears that were mounted upon the walls as well.

“More than just an instrument of war, the spear is also a tool for hunting, and with game ever plentiful in the Twelveswood, the weapon has been the mainstay of the locals here since before the founding of Gridania. With the passing of time, our nation became a gathering place for spearmasters from across the realm -- many eager to test their mettle against the famed might of our Wood Wailers.” Jillian lifted a finger, a smile dancing across her lips. She seemed proud to have this information and share it.

“It was here in Gridania that their myriad fighting styles came into contact, eventually giving rise to the art taught here today. That the spear technique could be formalized at all owed much to the founding of the Lancers’ Guild by Wood Wailer captain Mistalle nigh on a century past.”

Nomin listened with some interest once Jillian had mentioned how people from across the realm had come to the guild to train. She wondered if there were ever any Xaela that had walked past the guild’s doors before herself. She supposed she would find out if she saw any fighting styles that were reminiscent of the Steppe.

“The tradition of accepting students from without as well as within Gridania’s borders persists to this day, ensuring that the art of the polearm may not only survive, but also continue to evolve.” Jillian placed her hands upon her hips, a pleased expression on her face.

“... Can you tell me if you’ve ever had Xaelic individuals like myself pass the guild’s doors in the past?” Nomin inquired, genuine in her curiosity. She had found appreciation in the fact that Jillian, staying true to her lecture, had been rather ambivalent toward Nomin’s appearance. Knowing the Lancers’ Guild accepted people of all kinds was of more comfort than Nomin realized.

Jillian grew pensive, thinking back.

“We have had a couple… That I can remember, anyroad!” Jillian replied. “During my time here, there was a girl I could remember -- said she came from Coerthas up north. Her name was Khenbish, and she was quite well trained already. I shouldn’t be surprised, given the history of the lancers and Knights Dragoon of Ishgard. When I asked her why she wasn’t training with them, she claimed that Ishgard would have rather ran her through with spears than trained her to use them.”

'Khenbish' -- it was a rare name that Nomin knew of. A name that meant 'nobody.' It made her a little more interested in the person behind it. She wondered if it was a name given to the girl, or one chosen. Much like how Nomin chose her own name.

“A…criminal?” Nomin slowly asked.

“Not sure. She never really gave off that impression, and we never had any of our allies among the Temple Knights that patrol near the border of the Western Highlands and the North Shroud ever inquire about her whereabouts. I never really bothered to press her on the specifics of her past,” Jillian explained. “I’m not sure if she’s still around. She hasn’t been back at the guild in several summers at this point. I can only hope that she’s alive somewhere…but we can’t discount the notion that she could very well be returned to the lifestream.”

Shaking her head, Jillian returned her full attention upon Nomin and smiled. “Well, all of that aside, I trust I’ve piqued your interest quite well in regards to what you would be signing up for?”

“I find it reassuring that others like myself have been here…so yes, I would say you have,” Nomin confirmed. “I would like to see what more I could learn, especially if the styles here are blended with one another to make, as mentioned, an evolving style.”

“Excellent! I shall let Guildmaster Ywain know to expect you. All who seek admittance to our ranks must present themselves before him. He will judge if you are fit to become one of us.” Jillian then motioned to the archway to her right. “Pray make your way to the training area within. Our guildmaster shall await you there.”

Nomin did as she was told, stepping foot into the training hall. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and wood polish. She watched the trainees with their training spears practicing their form in staying grounded as well as thrusting to attack. For a moment, she was brought back to her time on the Steppe, training amongst the other Jhungid warriors-in-training. It had been often that she was more taught to use a spear or more hand-to-hand oriented combat, though it was always with the bow that she excelled at.

She had not known how long she was waiting when Jillian came into the room and called to her. When Nomin looked over at Jillian, she had a hyuran man with her, a diagonal scar that ran from just above his right brow down to just barely past where his nose met his cheek on the left. Nomin lifted a hand in quiet greeting, which had been reciprocated from the man.

“Well met, adventurer. I understand you wish to learn the lancers’ art under our roof,” the man said. This must have been Ywain. “I was given to know that you have some combat experience from beyond our lands. Yet it remains to be seen if such skills as you have acquired will avail you here.”

There was want of a knee jerk response, but Nomin bit her tongue.

“It is of no matter. In my capacity as guildmaster, I shall guide your training, beginning with the very basics -- the principles of our art.” Ywain motioned confidently to himself with a small smile. However, Nomin clenched her jaw to prevent herself from gawking in disbelief at the notion of relearning the art of wielding a spear from the beginning.

‘No, it’s understandable. Curb your impatience, Nomin…’ Nomin reminded herself, keeping Esenaij’s counsel rooted within her mind.

“There exist myriad fighting styles, each of which has its own unique qualities. None, however, can claim to be as offensively minded as ours. Our approach is ever one of attack, no matter who -- or what -- we face.”

At this, Nomin found herself starting to pucker her face with incredulity. Ywain’s confident statement seemed that of someone who had never been to the Steppe, where combat was taught to nearly all tribes just because of how violent tribes could be to one another. Self-defense had been a necessary evil for any Xaela that did not want to be set upon by their own people, or worse yet, the Matanga that also lived upon the land.

“An experienced lancer is able to wield a polearm as if it were an extension of their body. They transform into a raging storm before their foes, delivering a barrage of devastating thrusts and slashes,” Ywain went on to explain.

It was here that Nomin’s face relaxed and started bordering on a sense of intrigue. She could not very well think of styles on the Steppe that had them do aught more than powerful thrusts to skewer, or swipes as a means to disarm. The idea that a lance would be used in s quick succession of thrusts had been a mental image that had her thinking on how to balance herself already.

“To facilitate such a relentless assault, we lancers forgo plate, favoring armor of leather and chain -- such materials as provide adequate protection without unduly hindering movement.” Ywain lifted a finger as he went on to further elucidate: “a lancer’s worth may be measured quite simply -- in how swift and decisively they can pierce their enemy’s defenses.”

That made sense. A good thrust to one’s weak point was essential to using a spear from what Nomin remembered in her training on the Steppe.

“By its nature, the polearm is a simple weapon to wield -- for good or ill. Even in a farmer’s hands, it is capable of wreaking considerable havoc. Thus has it been a mainstay of every great army since ancient times.” Ywain paused, looking past Nomin to the lancers within the hall training amongst one another. “Yet know that a lance alone does not a lancer make. Faced with unfavorable odds, an unseasoned spearman will break formation and flee without a moment’s hesitation. A true lancer, however, flinches not before his enemies, for he knows not the meaning of fear. Ever does he press forward, disdainful of the odds, that he might pierce the enemy line and open a path to victory.”

“Would it not be wise to cut one’s losses and flee if they are clearly overwhelmed?” Nomin asked, doing everything within her power to keep her stance as neutral as possible. It was indicative of her tone, however, that there seemed to have been some values that she did not quite see eye-to-eye with. “I don’t mean to undermine your explanations nor station…I simply find myself a little baffled by the idea that I would be expected to run myself ragged if the odds are clearly not in my favor. What would my fearlessness accomplish for myself if I were to stagger in the midst of combat because my headstrong and ‘fearless’ ways to see to this ideal in what may very well be a fool’s errand?”

A ghost of a smile graced Ywain’s lips momentarily. It seemed that it was not often that someone joining the guild had often stepped up to question his meaning nor his authority.

“Fearlessness does not equate to foolhardiness. Having courage and a sense of fearlessness is not to say to run in the thick of combat without your wits about you. I only mean to say that if you run away before you even gauge your enemies’ defenses and openings, perhaps the Lancers’ Guild is not for one of such a caliber.” Ywain looked Nomin up and down, gauging her stature and posture. There was a moment before he continued on with a sense of satisfaction; “having the courage to face your enemies and be level headed enough to make observations of them is important in our field of combat. That is why our guild has striven from the first to instill this essential quality in every soul who passes through our halls.”

Nodding, Nomin felt more resonance with the idea now that it had been expanded upon.

“Without further ado, adventurer… Arduous trials await you should you join our ranks. Knowing this, have you the resolve to wield the lance in the name of the Lancers’ Guild?”

Straightening her posture, Nomin gave a more curt nod. “I do.”

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #oc: nomin tal kheeriin #jillian #ywain deepwell #lancer questline #mentioned:#oc: khenbish orl

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lovemoonsstuff · 1 year

Text

Prologue

•Their love •

A/N:

This is my first fanfic so please tell me how you really feel good or bad I just want to read your honest opinions. If this do well then I might do another one.

Warnings: none

Summary: will Elvis and Jillian fall in love after filming their first movie together? Will Elvis choose Jillian or Priscilla? Read on as Jillian falls in love with Elvis and see what happens between the two.

1963

Jillian is the president of her grade she is the most smartest kid in school and she's popular for her kindness and her beauty. Some girls don't like her but that doesn't stop her from being nice and caring to everyone.

Today she got up at 5 so she could have time to be ready and get out the door on time so they can decorate the school. Today the school is having a somewhat of a pep rally; she loved being the president of her grade it's some what like politics but it's fun when you have to plan party's and stuff with other presidents and their assistant presidents.

She walked downstairs her mother left her a note of the kitchen table.

Good morning Apple,

I hope you have a great day at school, your breakfast is in the microwave and your lunch money is in the drawer on the left. I'll see you to night me and daddy loves you.

Love mom

Jillian smiled she warmed up her breakfast and ate it she washed her dishes dried them off then put them away; she grabbed her backpack and her lunch money she looked up the house and got into her car she put her backpack in the back seat. Jillian cranked up her car it was pretty warm for it to be a normal Monday in February.

Not to far a man in a black car was watching her he had been watching her since last year in July taking pictures of her and taking notes of her. She looked behind her before backing out of the driveway she put the car in drive and made her way to her best friend's house Kelly Moore.

She pulled in her driveway and parked her car soon Kelly walked outside with their grade colors Blue and white. "Hey Lovey." Kelly said getting into the car Jillian smiled. "Hi." Kelly and Jillian was the school's popular duo Jillian was the sweet and bubbly ginger and Kelly was the go for it and having fun brown. Kelly protected Jillian she was like her big sister.

"Lovey did you get the decorations?" "Yes yes I remember this time. Their in the trunk." Once they made it to school Jillian parked her car and turned it off Kelly always took her keys for her or she will lose them. "Jill!" Someone yelled her nickname she turned around to see one of her boy best friends from her friend group recording her she smiled and waved.

She did a little dance and giggled Kelly opened the trunk a few of their friends helped them get the decorations out they walked in the school. Jack Harris one of the football players has a crush on Jillian but he was competing with Derek Williams, Charles Henderson, Harvey Clover, Edward Hartwell, and Danny Colebrook.

Derek had his team jacket on it was red, gold, and white. He was captain of the football team, he walked up to Jill and put his arm around her shoulders she looked up and smiled. "Hi Der!" She said Kelly kept an eye of all 6 boys and an even closer eye when they was close to her. She didn't want them breaking Jill's heart, her heart was to golden like a beautiful diamond. "Hey Jill. You look beautiful." She smiled. "Thank you Der, hey can you help me get this up there?" She asked pointing on top of the lockers. "Sure." He grabbed a chair and helped her on it Kelly noticed Jill's short skirt so she rushed over. "Hey Derek give me your jacket right quick." Derek didn't question her he just did as he was told and handed it to her. She tied the jacket around Jill's waist he noticed why she was doing that.

"Thanks Kel." Jill smiled before tapping the red ribbon the principal came up to them. "Good morning students." Jillian looked down and smiled. "Good morning Principal Wilson." "Jillian can you come to the office right quick?" "Yes sir, Kel can you finish this until I get back?" "Sure lovey go ahead." Derek helped Jillian jump down she handed the ribbon to Kelly and walked to the office.

"Jillian these came in not to long ago before you had arrived." Principal Wilson pointed to the big thing of flowers she gasped. "Wow." Jill walked up to the flower and smelled them they smelled wonderful. She tried picking them up but they were just to heavy. "I'm gonna go get Derek and Kelly." She rushed out of the office and ran up to where they were.

"Kelly, Derek I need your help." All 3 of them ran back to the office. "I can't pick up the flowers. Kel can you take them home for me."

•

After they finished decorating their side of the school and Kelly took those flowers home for Jill, Jill finished all 10 of her classes but she had to leave 10th class early so she could help people other students with setting up the gym the school cleaned it up yesterday so they didn't have to worry about. She was so tired after school but she had to go home and cook her some dinner. She parked her car and got out, she noticed her parents car still was gone so they were still out she unlocked the door and walked in closing the door behind her, she went straight up to her room and put her stuff away.

She looked at the flowers that Kelly placed on the island she sat on the stool she looked through them then saw a letter she took it out of the big thing of flowers, she opened the letter and read.

Dear Jillian

I know you don't know me yet but I know you I've been watching you thinking you would be great for what's next to come. You have the beauty, the talent, the personality, and the body for what I need you for. I want you to call this number. ***,***,****. Then ask for Mr. Johnson then I'll explain everything to you.

See you soon

••••

She hesitated before walking over to the phone she dialed the number.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

#70s elvis #elvis the king #elvis presley #elvis x oc #60s beauty #60s elvis #vintage

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