#she was lending me her books and i figured out the math and asked for only the tobias pov ones

[newsourceofnonsense]

The Quite Girl's Heart

A love story of overcoming insecurities and an unexpected romance of a shy girl (Y/N) and a confident boy (Chris sturniolo)

A/N-new to writing, so sorry if it doesn't make sense. Just a sweet little fic to get my writing started. may dive deeper as time goes on.

Music mentioned= Lovers Rock, TV girl

T.W= none (just bad spelling and grammar)

Chris speaking is orange

y/n speaking is pink

This is y/n, when asked to describe herself she is quick to note down how she is pictured as a shy and introverted girl. She is not one to seek attention or crave the spotlight. Instead, she finds solace in her drawings and music, where she can get lost in her own little world. where people wish they can be like her.

Y/N have always been like this, ever since she was a child. Her parents used to worry about her, thinking that she would never open up to anyone. How she will slowly blend into the background. But she may be shy, but she have a big heart and is always willing to lend a listening ear to those who need it.

But despite her kind heart, no one really notices her. She is the shadow in the bustling hallways of the high school. Watching those around her and dreaming of being them. Y/N have a small group of friends, but even they sometimes forget that she is there.

That is until one day, its was last period Maths class, Y/N was not amazing at Maths but good enough to get a good grade. She usually spent maths lessons with her headphones in and doodling in her note book, with her work being finished early on. But today was different, Lovers Rock by Tv Girl had started to play, when she was suddenly interrupted by a figure sitting in the abandoned seat next to her. Y/N took no notice and began to complete her earlier doodle from lunch when the figure beside her tapped her arm.

With a shaky hand she paused the music and looked at the figure. Y/Ns eyes were met with Chris Sturniolo's. She didn't know many people at this school but she knew him. how couldn't you, he is a triplet for god sake. Chris had a slim build and light freckles scattered across his face. His brown hair had grown to a comfortable medium length, and was currently un kept giving Chris a carefree and approachable appearance. Chris's eyes are striking, with a ocean blue iris and a constant smile that lights up his face. Chris is known to have a very confident personality making him popular with the people he meets.

The lingering silence was broken by his confident yet hesitant voice "Sorry for bothering you Y/N, I'm Chris, Miss Koury said that you could help me out with my Maths" every part of Y/N wishes for her to say no, to excuse herself and go back to her own little world. But she could see the desperation form on his face. "Look Y/N, I could really use your help, I cant even begin to tell you how painful these lessons are" he looks down at her desk "and you always seem to get your work done instantly, so you must be really good at it." as he finishes his sentence she focus on that fact that he notices her, it was small and something many people may overlook but when you get overlooked by everyone else you take notice of these things. Y/N begin to reply "me? oh, no. I just like to stay on top of things" continuing on "and it means that the teachers don't bother me and leave me to listen to music" As Y/N spoke she can see that Chris has turned his full attention to her. He listened intently to every word she said, his eyes never leaving her face. She can feel the nerves filling her body.

He began to speak again and sensing the hesitance and uncertainty in her voice he tried his best to get rid of her fear. "Good at maths and organised, looks like I asked the right person to help me out" he leans in closer on a wait for a reply. Chris takes a closer look at Y/Ns face and he finds his gaze linger on her features. Y/Ns green eyes are striking, and Chris cant help but be drawn in by their intensity. He noticed the freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, adding to her unique beauty. Chris couldn't help but found the shy girls smile enduring, Y/Ns most noticeable feature is her crooked nose. While many may see this as a flaw, Y/N included, in Chris's eyes it made her more attractive. Y/Ns cracked circle glasses sit slightly wonky on her face, but it only added to her character. Chris cant help but admire the black hair that falls in waves around the shy girls face, with streaks of white running through it like a silvery thread. he feels his smile growing as he sees her begin to speak again.

"oh, thank you." a warm sensation filled Y/Ns face, she just know that her cheeks were pink. "so... what exactly do you need my help with?" as soon as she finished her words Chris began "Maths. I really need help with Maths" Y/Ns lips curl upward into a shy smile, and her eyes crinkle at the corners as she giggles making her follow it up with her pushing her glasses up. Chris feels a sense of joy wash over him as he sees her reaction, seeing her become more comfortable around him. "I understand that" she reassures him "but what precisely about maths do you need help with?" Chris follows closely with this answer wanting to her voice again. "well basically everything." Chris said nervously "I see how well you do on test and I was hoping you could teach me your ways, so Miss Koury can finally leave me alone" he scanned her face waiting to see mockery swarm over it, but he was quickly reassured that this quiet girl is far form mockery. "you don't have to be so sweet" Y/Ns cheeks getting even more pink "Of course I will help" Y/N then begins to take out her note book revealing a neatly organized set of notes and practice problems. Chris couldn't help but be impressed by her preparation and dedication to the subject. Chris's confidence was infectious and Y/N could feel herself becoming ill with confidence. A lively but relaxed conversation bounced between them as Y/N explained and empathised points to Chris.

*time skip to the end of the lesson (so basically the end of the day)*

As the clocked ticked closer to the end of the day fellow classmates eagerly prepare there things to go home, whereas Chris and Y/N are still left in there comfortable conversation. Chris can see how passionate Y/N is about helping him, and Y/N couldn't believe that Chris noticed her and right now was laughing and smiling at all her crapy Maths jokes. Y/N could feel her heart flutter every time. Hearing the ruckus happening around him Chris debated on if he should ask Y/N for her number or at least a social media account, But just before he could muster up the courage the bell rang out. "Thank you for giving up your music time to help me Y/N" Chris spoke out as they calmly place their belonging into their bags "cant believe I am going to say this but..." curiosity filled Y/N face and a wave of nerves washed over her in anticipation on what he was going to follow with, then he began to speak. "I really enjoyed this Maths lesson" Then Y/N was hit with a sharp punch of disappointment, she was hoping he would say something different but she wasn't sure what. she plastered on a crooked nerves smile and began to speak "yeah. It was lovely taking to you" now finished zipping her bag she gently brushes pass Chris who is still gathering notes and shoving them into his bag.

Y/N exits the classroom, puts her earphones in and begins walking with the crowds of people to her locker. In her own world placing books neatly on her locker shelf and taking out her jacket a lone hand places itself on her shoulder and she begins to turn. Y/N is now met face to face with Chris again with Nick and Matt standing behind. Chris is struggling to close his bag showing clearly that he rushed to catch her, he catches his breath as Y/N yet again pauses her music for him. "sorry for making you pause your music again" Chris speaks out finally zipping up his bag and making himself look more presentable. "Don't worry it fine" Y/N say to make sure Chris knows he is not burden to her "err..was there something you needed?". Chris subtly looks behind him seeing the figures of his brother wating behind. He debts whether or not to ask for her number than finally begins to speak. "Well I was just wondering" Chris feels his confidence in battle with is nerves "well.... its just that"

The battle was lost Chris's nerves had won. He found himself fill with disappointment when his words coward to safety. "Do you mind helping me next Maths lesson". Y/N heart sinks, she is unsure why but she wishes for more. But with her heavy heart Y/N agrees to help once more "Ur...yeah I will be happy to help" Y/N didn't not want to miss a chance to be with Chris. Y/N has never felt this way before, she realised that when she spoke to him she didn't feel shy. Chris made her feel confident and comfortable in her own skin.

Before Chris could leave Y/N was struck but a pulse of confident and informed Chris "You can find me in the library" she had a sweet smile resting on her face and her eyes had a bright glow. Y/Ns tone softened and she spoke "just in case you need to talk" Y/N shocked by her own words and how forward she was being, stumbling on her next, trying to look less eager to talk to Chris again hoping she hadn't messed up "about the Maths problem" she stumbled out "I don't mind going over any of them" she anticipated to be declined for her offer but was soon was put at ease by Chris's words "Library". Repeating the location almost as to make a mental note, "OK" Chris said more for himself, showing that he retained the information. "well I am sure I will see you soon" he looks as his brothers beginning to walk to the exit sensing the end of the conversation sooner then Chris wanted. With Chris's brothers now out of ear shot he spoke "I'm sure I will have no problem mustering up some Maths questions to have an excuse to disturber your music once again". A pink hue was now painted over his face, with his feelings flustered be quickly turned to catch up with his brothers leaving Y/N with these final words "I have loved speaking to you". Y/N was left to reflect as she put on her jacket, shut her locker and began to walk home. He may had meant nothing by it she thought, it may have been a simple compliment. But still she found herself playing those words back in her mind, replacing the music that plays. Y/N found herself thinking about her interaction with Chris. How she felt nothing but happiness, she felt comfortable around him, her shyness becoming a distant figure in her past. And while she thought this was just a passing moment, that once he got a good grade it will go back to normal, she couldn't help but hope for more, hope that he asks for help with more classes, asks for help with anything. Just so she can she can see his beautiful soul again. Just so she can feel happy again.

*time skip to the next day- lunch time*

last night when finally arriving home Chris instantly began going over his note. Not for revision, NO! but so he can go see Y/N, to talk to her again.

Its now lunch and Chris has branched off from his brothers and his friends to make his way to the library. With a sticky note in hand with random maths questions he needs help with.

Making his way through the library, his confident and outgoing demeanour contrasted with the quite, studious atmosphere. Chris scanned the rows of shelves, searching for Y/N. He cant see her, he start to debate if he should keep looking or spend his lunch with his friends.

yet another battle was waging in his mind and he was scared of who will come out on top.....

*A/N- i hope you liked this. I didn't want it to be too long so if you will like a part 2 just say*

*A/N- any advice or recommendations are more then welcome*

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris x y/n #chris x reader #y/n

[sandrockianblues]

7,8,9, and 10 pls :3

7. What’s their opinion on the Research Centre?

Scout is actually FOR the discovery of things buried and lost in time. She knows where to draw the line- like what can and should be salvaged, and what she believes should remain tucked away and left to lay at rest. She and Qi actually get along quite well and her patience is everlasting, even with him surprisingly. Qi always makes the best tea so she doesn’t mind staying there to help him figure something out if she can lend her abilities (she’s not good at math or science though unfortunately) and it’s got the perfect minimal lighting she needs in certain areas. She thinks the past as good things that survived the Age of Darkness for a reason.

8. Are they interested in the old world?

VERY. Scout is someone people feel was born in the wrong time and era. Yet it’s possible her soul belongs further back before technology hit its peak in advancement. If she finds data discs only for Qi to say they’re kinda useless and just a movie? She takes them. She listens to every preserved or restored copy of songs she can get her hands on. She’ll read any book she can find that’s fictional and sometimes autobiographical. Hunting for ruins is fun for her and restoring relics. She loves it. It fascinates her endlessly.

9. Do they have any pets? Did they adopt any of the strays?

Nemo! When Scout first came to town- in every iteration, her first meeting with Nemo was almost a disaster as she was distracted by trying to figure out where to go and bad at directions, she almost tripped over the poor dog. Every iteration, Unsuur saves the day and snatches him up before disaster struck. That’s how those two meet as well. She loves all the strays in town- and recognizes Captain as primarily Justice’s and Unsuur’s- but Nemo and her bonded like no other. He also likes to ride in the front basked of her bike.

For a while I contemplated giving her a sugar glider-like animal…

10. What’s their house like? Is it well decorated? Do they take pride in their home or let it get messy?

Scout is very much one of those “if my space is a mess, my mind is a mess.” She tries her best to keep things organized and tidy- especially because sometimes sand blows in so she’s gotta sweep every day or so. She likes for her, Nemo and her friends to have a safe and clean space to relax in. Her being a city girl helps her keep on top of the cleaning because she misses her apartment from back home that was nice and well organized. She compensated as her house grows with indoor plants and such, books and Old World items she has. She takes pride in her house.

Send me numbers in an ask to find out more about my builder Scout! Click down here for the list!

#siren speaking✨ #my time at sandrock #mtas #sandrock #pathea #mtas builder #sandrock builder #Mtas ask #Sandrock ask #send asks #anon ask #Mtas oc #Sandrock oc #Mtas Unsuur #Sandrock Unsuur #Mtas qi #Sandrock qi #Mtas Nemo #Sandrock Nemo #Mtas Justice #Sandrock Justice #Mtas captain #Sandrock captain

[whythinktoomuch]

honestly, i think one of the more formative moments for me was when some buddies & i were discussing our crushes, and i said that i wish i could be a boy & several years older so i could date my tutor, and everybody just went ?????? because apparently that wasn't a normal thing to say at the time

#i was like 9????? #lmaoooooooo #omg that tutor is the one who introduced me to animorphs #she was lending me her books and i figured out the math and asked for only the tobias pov ones #goodness why does everything hafta be a thing!!!! #talky talky

[saphie3243]

First Solstice

For my Secret Snowflake @tomtenadia

Nesta spends her first Solstice sober in Illyria, unable to bring herself to brave the inner circle celebration for a second year in a row.  

Word Count: 5500+

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297182

There  was something soothing about a room being so crowded it became hard to breathe. Better still when the music was so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Best when bodies are grinding, booze is flowing, and something to smoke is being passed around. Everyone was here for the same reason, everyone wanted a distraction. Amren had made several comments that she couldn’t believe Nesta got males to go home with her when she smelled like sweat and a distillery. She apparently didn’t understand that everyone smelled the same at places like this. 

The band was better than usual. The music was… actually good. Maybe that’s why the bar was extra packed today. Or maybe it was because Solstice was tomorrow and no one wanted to think about all the ways they’ve disappointed their families this year. 

Disappointing. The male she dragged into the bathroom was just that. He wasn’t even worth the time she wasted not getting another bottle of wine. She didn’t even let him finish before booting him out and stumbling back to her favorite stool. The bartender knows her by now and has mulled wine waiting. 

It’s warm and more mulled than wine. She nodded to him. They know how to take care of her here, she certainly spends enough. Leo is decent enough to warn her off of the less than savory types that might be interested in more than even she was willing to give. She sighs back into the glass. Why she felt the need to judge herself when tomorrow she was going to get 5 times over from Feyre and insipid little family was why she needed another glass. 

She turned around in her stool, facing back out, watching the crowd move in a formless mass. This band had changed over. The new one wasn’t nearly as good. Several months haunting bars and clubs to all hours in the morning had provided Nesta a proper sampling of Velaris’ bands, and, in her mind, gave her a liberty to criticize as she saw fit. This crater-faced crooner was pitchy and couldn’t move a room if he winnowed them. That earlier one had a woman out front. She was unusual for a Fae. She was beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t the wispy waif most fae women were. She was tall and built, covered in a layer of extra fat that filled out wonderful curves and jiggled when she danced. But that wasn’t what made her remarkable. Her voice took your heart by the ears and pulled you into the emotion she wanted you to feel.

“Weird compliment, but I’ll take it.” 

__

“Lor-Cass said you weren’t going home this year,” Emerie placed the breeches she was folding into a pile of identical wares. 

“I didn’t go home last year, either,” Nesta swished the black liquid in her cup as she reviewed the ledgers. Last Solstice only served to remind Nesta how much of a stranger she was to her own family, to Feyre’s new one. She would never be able to call that debacle “going home.” This year, however, she could avoid Velaris. Being banned from the city meant Feyre no longer had the ability to force her into attending farcical family meals, no matter how pissy she was about it. 

She closed the books with a sigh and placed them back into a drawer. “Numbers look good.” 

Emerie moved her pile of pants over to their shelf. “Thanks for looking over them, I haven’t had anyone to check my math since dad.” Nesta nodded and pulled out the books and notepads Emerie kept hidden with her accounting ledgers. 

She leafed through to the furthest marked page. “You didn’t get much further last night,” she commented. 

“Ah, no time, had to process a big shipment.” 

“It’s fine,” Nesta muttered. 5 words underlined. Not the most, not the least. She reviewed the best-guess at the words definition in Emerie’s notebook. Most were correct. She added pronunciation guides next to some. “Macabre means bloody, gruesome.” 

“Why is there an R in it?” 

“Because the gods are cruel.” She heard Emerie’s answering laugh. “You’re doing well though. We can probably move on to actually writing.” She didn��t really think it would be that hard for Emerie to learn to read and write. She ran this business - she was clearly whip-smart, just uneducated. It could easily be remedied.  

“In the meantime, can you answer the orders?” 

This little arrangement worked out nicely. Nesta lended her books and made her literate, meanwhile she would help out with store correspondence and would review the books. Reviewing the books was less about checking Emerie’s math - that she had a natural understanding for - and more about making sure each transaction had sufficient notes. 

She took another sip from her night-black liquid. The best part of Illyria, in her mind, was this coffee thing. It didn’t grow locally, needing a warmer climate for the source plant to thrive, but it had become a staple in the tribes as a way to keep troops moving with minimal sleep. Hot and bitter, it really shouldn’t have been as pleasant to drink as it was, but she found herself unable to stop. 

“When does Lo- Cass head down south?” 

“He should be meeting everyone Solstice morning and be back the day after.”

“What are you going to do?” 

Stare at the liquor bottles he filled with water to tease me.  Drink my weight in coffee and stand outside Devlon’s house at 2 am sending waves of power over the door to fuck with him until some asshole walks by and works up the balls to ask me back to their place - or die of exposure. Whatever’s first. 

“Not sure, why?” 

“Would you… I don’t know… want to spend tomorrow with… me?” Emerie had approached the table, tapping her fingers with each phrase. Nesta looked her up and down. If it was anyone else, she would have thought Cassian put her up to it. But she was also alone for the holidays, and Nesta knew that was probably a much bigger deal for the Illyrian than it was for her. She had mentioned once that she didn’t have many people since her father died. Adding in that Emerie didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do... If she was asking, it was because she wanted to spend this day with Nesta. 

She smiled at her friend, “Come over whenever.” 

___

Dinner was hot and ready when she came in. Cassian always made sure that their meals were piping. His own way of combating the awful wet cold of Illyria. She had to wonder if part of it also had to do with keeping the fires low in the house.  

Nesta kicked off her boots by the door and carried them to the fireplace. She set them down next to Cassian’s - the secret to warm feet, he’d said. Their coat rack was also by the fireplace for similar reasons. She gently felt the socks left hanging there- warm, thank the Wall. She pulled off her damp knits and left them in a pile on the floor while pulled on the fresh clothes. They went up to hang immediately after.

“Do you need to take every peg? Emerie’s store is only 5 minutes away,” Cassian called from across the house. He was standing in the kitchen with two bowls of stew. 

“Five minutes flying, 25 walking,” she turned to him. “Through a foot and a half of snow.” 

She pointed to the bottom of her dress and the crust of ice that had formed there. He grimaced. 

“I would have picked you up if you asked.” 

“Unnecessary.” She pulled the dress over her head and left it to hang on the coat rack. After months of living together, they had long overcome the initial discomfort with mild nudity. Not that she was anywhere near naked. She still had the chemise that ended at her knees, her wool sleeves, her knitted belly warmer, and a double layer of wool hose. She was more covered than either Amren or Morrigan on any given day. Finally in only dry clothes, she marched over the kitchen and took the bowl from Cassian. 

Four months of living with Cassian in Illyria was… surprisingly easy. The mountains were peaceful, simple. The way of life here is more similar to the human society she grew up with than the magical speed of Velaris. Emerie was a pleasant discovery. She still wanted a drink, desperately, but the biting cold had a similar numbing effect if you stood out in it long enough. The worst part was being dragged out of bed at dawn for “training”. Though her training was less about learning to fight herself and more about standing around the training rink terrifying males while Cass tried to teach little girls to throw a punch. 

Coincidently she hadn’t gotten laid in 4 months either. 

“As much as I love seeing you in your underwear, you do have very nice, very warm leathers.” 

“Bite me,” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth. She had made it this long avoiding putting those damn things on. She wasn’t going to cave now. No matter how much imagining the fur lining made her whimper. 

He smiled down at her, making a point of flashing his teeth. “Gladly.”  Whatever mischief was running through his thoughts cleaned itself up as he changed subjects. He was the other surprise. The animosity between them was turned down to a polite simmer. Oh they still bickered, and they flirted. They never said it, and God willing never would, but any edges of disgust in their banter had long been smoothed by fondness. “Az will be picking me up at 7 tomorrow. If you change your mind about coming with me, be ready to go then.” 

“I won’t,” she answered, choosing not to tell him that she would be spending the day with Emerie. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t push. 

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making breakfast, if you want.” 

__

Nesta woke up in a bed that was far too clean to be her own. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and she was naked. She sat up and took in her surroundings. This room was not hers. She had less furniture and more piles of shit everywhere. She was trying to figure out how she got there when the door opened and a woman came wandering in. 

Nesta recognized her as soon as she spoke and finally recalled the night prior. She was the singer for that band. They chatted each other up at the bar for hours, getting progressively drunker. By the time the bar closed they stumbled home - going to hers because it was closer. They jumped each other as soon as the door closed. It was a new experience for Nesta, being with a woman. And it was good. The singer sounded as lovely when she came as she did when she belted. 

Staying for breakfast would be nice. Something real in her stomach to soak up the alcohol was very needed. And if she played it right, there was a chance for as lovely a morning as there was a night. 

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Nesta waited until her partner had left the room before she pulled on her dress and snuck out the window. 

Lovely wasn’t what she deserved. 

___

No training didn’t mean that Nesta didn’t wake up at first light. It just meant she didn’t need to get dressed. Part of the initial torture of first arrival was learning that Cass put her in an east facing room with larg windows on the walls - and refused to let her have curtains. Privacy apparently wasn’t as important as making sure she didn’t have oversleeping as an excuse.

She swore at the sun, as she did every morning, and felt around in the bed next to her. Before getting out from under the covers, she pulled on her fluffy robe. This little trick she learned back in the hut. Sleep with the clothes you’re going to wear if you want them to be warm in the morning. 

She trudged out to the main room and kitchen, beginning the process of preparing breakfast. Another rule of the house, if you are up first, you cook first. Same for dinner and coming home. Lunch they were on their own. There was a housemaid when she first arrived, but… she didn’t last long. She found the tea kettle and set about making hot water while she poured oats into bowls. From their icebox - a box they just left sealed outside to let winter keep cold - she pulled out a package of cured bacon. The kettle whistled, and she used the entire batch to steep the coffee. The next round of water was for the oatmeal.

The shadows between the windows grew and darkened. Before he even stepped out, Nesta greeted him. 

“I’m making coffee. Get a cup if you want some.” 

“Thank you. I’ll take bacon, too, if you don’t mind.” 

“It’s Cass’s money,” she answered, adding three more pieces to the griddle. 

Azriel was the only one from Velaris that visited with any sort of regularity, mostly due to how closely he needed to work with Cassian. He would come up about once a week for updates or meetings or to winnow Cass somewhere. He had begun to make a habit out of arriving early to chat with Nesta. Sometimes he just came up to hang out with them. He probably only came up to spend time with Cassian, but since she was usually around, they included her.

No one else from the Inner Circle bothered to visit. Rhysand and Feyre came up once, but that… did not end well. Elain felt too guilty to come see the sister whose banishment she had consented to. Morrigan wasn’t even on the island, so it wasn’t a surprise she didn’t stop by. And Amren… Amren was keeping her vow to not speak to Nesta until she apologised to Morrigan. Something Nesta still didn’t think she needed to do. 

Morrigan spent 4 nights a week at a gay bar. How the fuck was Nesta supposed to know she wasn’t out? 

“Elain asked me to bring this,” he conjured a set of books and hand-knitted socks into existence, placing both onto the table while pouring himself a cup. The books were tied together with ribbons and decorated with small bows, clearly meant to be her Solstice present. The socks - well, Elain had taken up knitting sometime in the last year and had Azriel deliver a pair every time he visited. 

“Why didn’t she just ask Cassian to bring it back with him?” Nesta scooped some brown sugar into her oatmeal. 

The ever so slight blush on his cheeks told her what his answer did not. “She wanted to make sure you had a present for the holiday.” 

“Because she knows how much I care about holidays,” and it had nothing at all to do with you leaving from her room this morning and it seeming convenient at the time. They wanted to be discrete, and Nesta accepted that - no matter how bad they were at hiding it. She poured in the hot water into her breakfast and stirred. “Any messages with that present?” 

“The bacon looks done.” 

“Azriel.” 

He sighed. “No.” 

Nesta tightened her jaw and moved the bacon from the stove to a plate, allowing him to have a piece. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed that he didn’t have a message or that she was still hoping he would. Either way she was going to play it off. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you hock me about going, too.” 

Az cocked his head. “Cass made it pretty clear you weren’t ready for that.” She snapped up at him. 

“And what was his barometer for knowing if I was ready?” She sneered. 

But Az only shrugged, well accustomed to playing referee for Cassian and Nesta by now. “You not wanting to go.” 

__

Nesta was still thinking about Azriel’s answer by the time Emerie came over. She couldn’t decide if Cassian was being a presumptive ass or if he was being genuinely considerate. He had a habit of being both interchangeably. Like when he finally made his way to the kitchen, fully dressed and demanding breakfast. He added in some last minute jabs about coming back early if she got lonely as Az winnowed away with him. And even through the mocking tone, the message was clear. “If you don’t want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll come back.” 

He still didn’t know she was spending today with Emerie then. 

“Do you not own any decorations or do you just not like them?” she asked, looking around the room. 

“What decorations?” Nesta strained in her thoughts, there was a lot of extra shit in Feyre’s living room last year… 

“Solstice decorations.You know, candles, holly, garlands,” Emerie explained. It sounded like what Feyre had up - and what most of Velaris had up -  but in all honesty she was not sober enough last year to make the connection that it was for the holiday and wasn’t just some seasonal nonsense. Emerie squinted at her and placed a wrapped box on the table. Presents! 

Fuck. That’s right. Fae exchange presents on the Solstice. 

“I honestly don’t know.” 

Emerie squinted at her. “What do you mean you don’t know?” 

Nesta shrugged. “Humans don’t have holidays.” At most they had festivals, but they were distinctly not holidays, just an excuse to drink and dance with as many strangers as possible. The closest thing they had to a formal holiday was Treaty Day, and even that was not the intimate affair this seemed to be. She hadn’t even heard of a Solstice dinner until Feyre asked her to go last year. 

“How do you not have holidays?” she asked. 

“Holidays used to be very dangerous days to be human.” There were plenty of horror-stories around the suffering of human slaves on religious days. Whether they were being traded as gifts or killed as sacrifices...  even if the stories were exaggerations, it led to whole-sale rejection of everything religious by human society. 

“So you know nothing about solstice?” Emerie placed a hand on her hip. 

“It is the longest night of the year.” 

Emerie made it her mission to instruct Nesta on the finer points of an Illyrian solstice. First and foremost, every 5 years it was the last day of the Blood Rite. The theme of doing battle still continued in the other years, most tribes had hunts or tournaments for the men to mark the occasion. Women were expected to work the day to prepare for the night. The night of the Solstice was the only true peace Illyria ever saw. Solstice nights were for feasting, music, and dancing. Fighting after dark was strictly forbidden. Gifts were expected between families, friends, and especially rivals. It symbolized an acceptance that though Illyrians may compete with one another, they were still members of one army. 

“Does this tribe have a tournament?” Nesta asked. Cassian hadn’t mentioned anything about it, or a feast afterwards, but he might not have thought her interested. Or ready, she thought ruefully.

“Devlon hosts a melee tournament. Puts all the entrants in the ring together and waits to see who comes out. The large feast at the end is prepared by entrant’s families,” Nesta knew she meant women in those families, “For the entrants and their families. Dad didn’t enter, so we would just watch the tournament and then spend the night at home.” 

“Do you want to watch the tournament this year?” 

“Yeah but you’re still in your pajamas,” Emerie laughed. 

She watched by the door as Nesta dressed in her warmest clothes. Watching men fight on her day off wasn’t exactly Nesta’s idea of a good time. But Emerie wanted to go. And Cassian had tried to make the decision of whether or not she should go by not telling her about it, so that in and of itself made her want to go. Because neither were entering, and certainly neither were cooking, they wouldn’t be able to attend the feast after. But that’s just as well. A night back at the house with hot drinks and Cassian’s pantry seemed just fine to both of them. 

The tournament took place in the training rings. Normally the 5 or so rings were roped off from one another, allowing different ages and skill levels to train separately. But today Devlon had taken down the separators, providing an obnoxiously large space for his melee. But it was needed. It seemed every one of Devlon’s soldiers signed up for the tournament. About 200 competitors, ranging from small boys to grown men. There were even some father-son pairs helping each other warm up in the ring. 

Outside the rings, there was yet another crowd of voyeurs. Women and girls taking breaks from their preparations to watch, the merchant families - like Emerie’s, and the men too old and frail to compete anymore. Standing at the head of it all was Devlon, a poor-man’s Cassian. He caught wind of them walking up and immediately flared at the sight of Nesta before turning back to the tournament. Being a witch in Illyria had certain perks. Devlon’s apprehension being only part of it. The crowd parting for them, allowing them to stand at his side and have the best view, was another. 

“Soldiers!” Devlon called as he stepped forward. All 200 men turned to him at attention, well trained by now. “You know the rules. No siphons, no weapons, no flying, no killing. You fall, you’re out. You yield, you’re out. You get knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last men standing at sunset wins.” He raised his arm in the air, making it visible to all. He took one last look around the ring, took a breath, and dropped his arm and stepped back as he bellowed, “Lay on!”

The chaos was immediate. One of the younger kids, there without a father to hold them up, fell immediately. The rest were at each other's throats, kicking, punching, wrestling. Part of her was worried that the battle-royale would be too similar to the war. But without the clang of steel and the geysers of blood, she found this was more similar to the crowded dance halls in Velaris. Devlon, now standing next to the girls, kept his eyes on the mock-battle as he spoke. “I thought you’d be with Cassian today.” 

“And miss a battle royale? Honestly Devlon, do you know me at all?” She smiled at him, relishing how he flinched at her grin. “Can’t help but notice none of the girls are competing.” 

His jaw tightened. “The Solstice melee is not training. It’s tradition.” 

“Now you said the same thing about the girls training, too, did you not?” Nesta had no interest in ever learning how to fight herself, and didn’t really care if girls trained or not. But there was a difference between choosing not to do something and not being allowed to do something. 

“If Lord Cassian wants to insert his views here as well, he should be here to do it himself.” The harsh words were undercut by the bead of sweat racing down his cheek. He wasn’t wrong. That was part of the reason Cass was stationed up here full time. Changing the rules around women required full time intervention. In Nesta’s mind, it also required more input from the women, but that was a discussion for another time. 

“Maybe next year,” Nesta yawned. She watched the battle progress. After the initial early eliminations, they had plateaued into a minor stalemate. Some alliances also became clear. Groups of friends or families fighting together, watching each other’s back, catching each other before they fell. She didn’t cheer as the crowd or Emerie did. Rather, her and Devlon seemed to be the only calm people there. 

Then… something odd happened. One of the teenage boys fell suddenly. He didn’t seem to get hit particularly hard, for one. And secondly, he didn’t get back up. Both Devlon and Nesta leaned forward, looking closer. She saw it first, sniffed it out. Blood. The boy had been hit in the side and was bleeding from the wound. 

“Devlon,” she said very carefully. 

“I know, I didn’t see who did it.” 

“We need to get him out.” 

“His friends will get him out.” 

She held her breath, watching. No one came. She hadn’t been watching him particularly, but she didn’t remember him teaming up like the others. The way they walked around him… “He doesn’t have friends,” she snarled. Even Emerie gulped as Nesta’s anger stirred the well of her power. Cass told her stories. Back when the shakes and cold sweats were unbearable, he stayed up with her and told stories, trying to distract her through it. Trading one dark truth for another. She told him about watching her mother die, he told her that he was alone for years until Rhys. A bastard that was left to fend for himself, potentially to die if he wasn’t strong enough. From the way they walked over this kid, he was the same. She needed to get him out of there. He was bleeding out and no one was doing a damn thing about it. 

“We cannot interfere with the melee,” Devlon said, “it’s against the rules.” 

“So is weapons, but someone clearly has a knife,” she spat. Devlon didn’t say anything to that. He just kept scanning the make-shift battlefield, searching. “There!” he shouted, and his green siphon flashed. Another teenager was plucked into the air by his wings. He kicked and thrashed, a small knife in his fist. Devlon pulled the kid to him, releasing his magic’s grip and decking as asshole as he got in range. The boy went down with just that one hit. 

But the first boy was still out there. He was still bleeding out. Alone in a crowd. He was going to die. He was going to die in this little mock battle where killing was strictly forbidden. Was this why Cassian didn’t tell her about it? Did he have holidays like this? Did older boys gang up on him and try to kill him without anyone noticing? Was he left alone to bleed on his own? 

“Nesta!” 

Emerie’s voice was farther away than it should have been, and muffled by a crowd of idiots fighting with one another. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but Nesta was standing over the fallen boy. As they registered her presence, one by one the soldiers stopped. “The witch.” “It’s the witch.” “Why is the witch here?”  She ignored them all, kneeling down to the injured. He was pale and grimacing, having lost a lot of blood - still losing it, actually. The knife had gotten him just below the ribs, catching who knows which organs. Without another word she picked him up, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder and his body to rest on her torso. 

She turned back to Emerie and Devlon, one watching with concern, the other pissed as hell. She stepped towards them, slowly, carefully. She didn’t want to jostle the kid’s injuries more than necessary. No one came near her as she walked out of the ring. At first she thought it was the same as the audience, that they were simply afraid of the witch. But a glance around gave her a different answer.

Her power extended around her in a sphere, creating barriers of ethereal flowing silver. The grass around her withered and died, and no man here wanted to see what would happen if they touched the walls of silver flames. When she got to the edge of the ring, the rope touched her power and rotted to nothing. She didn’t know how this boy still lived in her arms, but he was still breathing- barely. She spoke to both Devlon and Emerie. 

“He needs a healer.” 

“I’ll find Marta and have her meet you at the house.” 

Nesta nodded to her friend and turned to walk the familiar path to Cassian’s house, her power dying down as she crossed the threshold.

__

Marta arrived at the same time she did. They set the kid down on the kitchen table as the old woman got to work. The boy did get stabbed, but only in the liver. It took longer than Nesta would have thought, certainly longer than the battlefield-healing she remembered from the war, but Marta was able to stabilize him and stitch him up. She left them with instructions to make sure the boy didn’t get infected or pop a stitch in the night. 

“Not how you planned to spend the Solstice, I’m guessing?” Nesta asked. 

Emerie tilted her head, “No but seeing every warrior in the village piss himself is worth it.” She slumped down on the couch. “We have a moment, want to open your present?” she gestured to the box on the table. 

“Y-yeah, just let me grab yours.” Nesta ran back to her room. She grabbed the stack of books Elain bought her, still wrapped from this morning. Definitely a faux paus, but she would never know. 

Nesta came back out with the present and set it in front of Emerie. “Happy Solstice.” The look of awe and excitement was worth it. As Emerie began to untie the books, Nesta began to unwrap her present. Under the paper was a long, thin box. She unlidded it to find a set of leather and wood hair pins - Illyrian style hair pins, made to not get cold in winter. 

“Thank you,” she said, still admiring the etching on the leather thong. 

“I’d thank you but, I think mine goes to Elain.” 

“What?” Nesta whipped her head up to see the first book open on the table and Emerie holding a hand written note. She was clearly reading it but let Nesta snatch it from her anyway. 

“So should I let you borrow the books or-”

“Shush.” Emerie laughed and paged through the first novel as Nesta read the note. 

Dear Nesta, 

I know you are still upset with me, and with Feyre, for sending you away. And you are right to be upset. You were there for me, after the Cauldron and after Grayson. You held our family together after Feyre left. And when you needed us, needed me, I didn’t know how to help. 

I don’t know if it is the power or just my own knowledge of you, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew that if I tried to help, I would only fail. And that is not an excuse. Fear of failure does not make not trying ok, but it is what I did. And I am sorry. 

I know putting this in a letter hidden in a book is still the coward’s way, but I don’t think I could face you if I didn’t apologize first. I hope to have Azriel take me for a visit after the Solstice if you would have me. 

Your sister, 

Elain

___

They stayed up most of the night, playing cards, reading, and watching over the boy. Nesta had planned to stay up the full night, but using her power that day and waking up at 6 am had taken its toll. She found herself drowsing into her cards. Around 3am, Emerie sent Nesta to bed, agreeing to stay up and keep watch. Nesta’s head barely hit the pillow before she was out. 

She woke in darkness. Not odd for her. Waking up in the middle night was fairly common. But when she looked to her window, she saw that it was not night. There was sunlight shining behind the makeshift curtain someone had thrown over her window. She pushed herself up. Who? 

“You’re up.” 

She turned her attention to the chair on the other side of her bed. Cassian sat there, watching over her with an indecipherable expression. She sat up.

“When did you get home?” 

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was down and knotted, unusual for him. There were bags under his eyes. “Last night, before dawn. Az brought me back,” he brought his hands together and looked at her. “Emerie told me what happened. You lost control again.” 

“How’s the boy?” 

“Petros is fine. I moved him to my room to sleep off the rest of the potion the healer gave him.” 

“That’s good.” 

“No, you couldn’t,” his hands gently reached out and lifted her face to look at him. “Why couldn’t you?” 

Cassian moved to the bed, sitting next to Nesta. “You lost control for him.”

“I-I couldn’t just let him bleed out,” she explained, staring at a spot on the bedspread.

Because he reminded me of you. She didn’t know if she said the words out loud or not. But Cassian’s answering kiss was so soft, so gentle, so sweet, she didn’t care. She responded to his kiss in kind, her hand cupping his face, finally feeling those perfectly chiselled cheekbones. His tongue passed over her lower lip and she opened for him, inviting him deeper. She met his tongue with her own and wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him closer. He grinned through the kiss, gently placed his hand on her shoulders, and pushed her back down on the bed. 

It was the first time Nesta stayed for breakfast after.

___________

Tagging potential readers:

@perseusannabeth

#secret snowflake #Nesta Archeron #Nessian #Cassian #post Acowar #post acofas #elain archeron #emerie #Nesta and Emerie will be besties if it kills me #Nesta and Cassian adopt that kid. #Potato-burp is ask-able tumblr #so that one is in the exchange. #but my writing goes here so here we are #never posted fic directly to tumblr before. #weird

[wickedobsessed101]

Fanfic Writer Asks

[SOURCE: criminal-minds-fanfiction: Most of the writer ask posts I come across are only like ten or so questions long so I thought I’d try to make a longer one because we like talking about our writing! Feel free to reblog!]

I’m answering all of these b/c I love Q & A’s about my writing, both for my fics and other things.

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? It was 2013, so I was 14 years old. I’m now almost 23.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? I’m mostly in the Wicked Musical fandom, but I like to read for other fandoms, like Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Chronicles of Narnia, ect.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer. OCs, but I’m more than willing to create an OC for someone based on characteristics they give me.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for? I love me some fluffy romance and hurt/comfort, but I also love some angsty drama.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi-chaptered stories, which would it be and why? OMG, don’t make me choose! They’re all my babies! I love all my children equally! They all hold special places in my heart.

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why? Goodness, most of my stories prior to 2017, because I was in high school and had no idea what I was doing because I was just getting my feet wet with writing.

7) When is your preferred time to write? Anytime really. The latest I’ve stayed up writing a fic was 4AM. *Glares at ‘Threads of Truth’*

8) Where do you take your inspiration from? Where ever it happens to come up. I’m not picky. Movies, music, people I’ve seen on the street, random thoughts that enter my head, anything.

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote? In ‘Threads of Truth’, it’s a tie between Villy’s first date, and an argument that happens in an upcoming chapter. And that’s all I’m saying about that.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? In ‘Play The Game’, I liked the epilogue ending that I gave Elphaba with her family, even without Fiyero. I like writing her with kids. Another ending would be with the Fiyeraba still together, but I’m satisfied with the ending it has.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it? I’ll go back and fix typos that are pointed out, but I don’t change plot stuff. Like, I wrote what I wrote and I will amend my technique in future stories.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why? Other than my OCs, because I get to fully create them and my lowkey babies, I’d have to say G(a)linda. She has so much potential and she’s so much fun.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why? Boq. Not because I hate him (I don’t!), but because I don’t normally know what to do with him. If he’s not with Nessa, he’s literally just standing there like a brick wall. No offence, Boq!

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories. [Ask me about a specific story(ies)]

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names? I usually change consonants and vowels to already existing names, or add unnecessary letters because... reasons.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx? [Ask me about a specific story]

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on. “Hopefully, this will soak up any more leaks.” (Upcoming Wicked fanfic)

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? Yes, 2. Both of them are a few years old and I’ve grown as a writer since then. Maybe one day, I’ll edit them and repost, but not anytime soon.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to? Not everything can have a sequel, y’all! XD

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently? Yes! Around 60% of them.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire? @vinkunwildflowerqueen @raven-curls @mylittleelphie @weaselspeedfanfic Ultimate Queen of Cliffies

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it? This goes back to Question #6; most of what I posted prior to 2017.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? Silence. I need to focus.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes? I can’t write it. They’ll make out, and then be pregnant in the next chapter. Y’all can do the math for yourselves.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story? YES! Yes, I have! Both sad tears and tears of joy. I’ve also cringed from second-hand embarrassment at the things the characters do and say. I’m not in control of their actions all the time. Sometimes they tell me what they’re gonna do, and I’m like, “Well, alright, then.”

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write? [Ask me about a specific story]

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? I write bullet points of things I want to happen in a chapter on the Word Doc, or in the story as a whole, and I try to keep those bullet points in order. And the Notes App on my phone holds a lot of my ideas, and sometimes full scenes.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction? That I’d become obsessed with writing and continue doing it for almost ten years, as well as expanding to writing plays and musicals.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like? Yeah. I’m not gonna say which one, but just know there’s one... or a few.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? Yes, and I’m still not gonna say which one(s). I want all the love!

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec, not the answerer) Yeah, sure!

32) Are any of your characters based on real people? Yes. Villy Doiir from ‘Threads of Truth’ is based on 4 people I know in real life, all mixed together into one wholesome, mother figure/ mentor. Perhaps that’s why I like writing her so much.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? All reviews keep me going, no matter the length. But I love it when people review saying that they picked up on little references that were really just for me. It makes me feel like we’ve shared a moment.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten? A guest reviewer once said, “You tend to write Fiyero as an abusive person”. It wasn’t harsh, just... NOT TRUE. Especially for the story they were reviewing.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest? Close to my chest. I’ll share it with the world when I’m ready.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s? NOPE! You’ll just have to wait and see! LOL!

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written? I... really don’t know. My stories all have their funny moments.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it. I’m very busy, and collabs aren’t really my thing, but I’m always willing to lend an extra pair of eyes pre-posting.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? I’ve written one story in the first person and it was fun to get into the character’s head, but I love third person, cause I like knowing what everyone is thinking. Second person makes me feel a certain way and that don’t really like.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? IRL, no. It’s not something I bring up over dinner. I’ll talk about my plays and musicals, but not fanfiction. I like keeping my fics for the online peeps and my more personal writings for the RL peeps.

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written? My OC, Princess Hannalyn, from ‘A Royal Romance’. She was so much fun!

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx. I haven’t done a song fic.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it? Not fully, but they’ve had little inklings, but certain details were still a surprise. And I’m not mad about it.

44) What is the last line you wrote? “I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process? When I’ll have one idea, and it spirals into many others, and when the characters write themselves. It makes it so much easier for me. Sometimes they tell me that they’re about to make a bad decision, and I just go along with it. They need to learn and grow somehow.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it? [Ask me for a specific story]

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about? [Ask me]

48) What’s your favourite trope to write? I love a good Royalty AU (not fully AU ‘cause of our princey-prince, but still) and Holiday AUs. And I’ve never written a Coffeeshop AU, but I LOVE reading them. I’ll read anything. I’m not picky, and I love to see what ideas others have.

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about? Yes, and both of them were Gelphies: 1 - “Easier Said Than Done” by mecelphie - It’s part of a long, wonderful series of Elphaba and Glinda together at Shiz and how their lives evolve together and has many lovable OCs. 2 - “The Thropp Diaries” by denpa wave chick saki - It’s first-person Elphaba POV of the book. It expands on lots of mentioned moments and we get to journey through Elphaba’s thoughts.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? I’d have to say fluff, so I can get my escape from reality. But it’s hard to write pure fluff without a little bit of conflict.

If you wanna read my stories, they’re all right here: Fae’sFlower

#wicked the musical #wicked #wicked fanfiction #fiyeraba fanfic #faesflower #Q & A #Fiyeraba #gelphie #Elphaba #Fiyero #Glinda #Galinda #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction.net #let me tell you about my writing and my stories #writer #Q & A with Nia

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 3 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1 2

A/N: hi! I hope you like this new chapter as it goes deeper on the feels™️ I really wanted to give the characters more background (and a little bit of angst whoops) and finally, there are new names dropping yay! Again, there’s a time skip of two years this time. Enjoy & thanks for reading <3

-3-

When Priyanka turned fifteen, she discovered new things she loved. She loved dying the tips of her hair with bright colors every two weeks and a half, she loved skateboarding, she loved being the center of attention and a little bit of a class-clown at school, she loved hanging out with her group of friends, she loved the phone calls with Lemon to catch up and talk shit about everyone…

“Okay, can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s better.”

Priyanka peeped through the hallway hoping no one would decide to interrupt them. She nervously removed the shiny red nail polish with her teeth as they tried to re-connect, if her mother saw her she would’ve scolded her on the spot. The landline phone was solid red plastic with buttons and wires, it was age-worn but at least it wasn’t like her grandparent’s phone with the rotary dial system or it would take hours to get all those area code numbers correct and get Lemon on the other side.

“Thank God. I’m literally inside the closet just like in The Parent Trap. I told my mom I was calling my grandma because last time our phone bill had several zeroes.”

Priyanka chortled and entangled the curly wire with his fingertips. “Sorry about that… so, you were saying… about the audition?”

“Oh, right! I’m trying to get into this dance academy that’s supposed to be the best of the best and the audition waiting list is a nightmare… but they called me the other day and said I’ll have shot in two weeks.”

“Oh. My. God. Lemon that’s awesome!”

“I know! I feel it, Pri. I know I can do it but… I don’t want to assume anything until I get there. I’m confident in my skills but what if they perceive that confidence as cockiness or something like that. I was talking to Jan the other day and she said-”

“Wait, who’s Jan?” Priyanka frowned before the unfamiliar name.

“Jan. Jan! My friend Jan? We have Biology and Math together, remember?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard her name before.”

“I’m sure I have mentioned her… anyway. Jan is madly talented –like, she can sing- and she auditioned for music school like a year ago and told me that…”

Jan. She hadn’t mentioned a Jan before… it was weird for Priyanka that knew all Lemon’s New Yorker friends’ names and she was pretty sure Lemon remembered all her friends’ names as well.

“… anyway, I’ll keep my head high and hope for the best. I’m training extra hard these days to make it. My muscles are sore and I can’t feel my legs right now but hey, no pain no gain.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thank you.” She paused as if she wanted to say something else, Priyanka could hear her breathing, but then she continued chattering. “Also, my mom got promoted again and now she bought a computer I can e-mail you the day of the audition. But tell me, how are things over there? Did the girls work their differences yet?”

“You know Scarlett, she won’t shut up and-”

“Priyanka, it’s dinner time.” Her mother announced from the kitchen.

She sighed. “Shit. I have to go or my mom is going to cut the phone wires. She says this time is for real.”

“Oh, okay… I’ll call you soon then.”

“Yes, please call me right after the audition or before if you wanna talk… you know. Break a leg or whatever… make sure is figuratively speaking, please.”

She heard Lemon’s giggle on the other line and something inside her went softer.

“I will… and I will be there for Christmas this year, I made my mom promise it.”

“Fingers crossed.” She said before hanging up.

When she looked at herself in the mirror she had a silly grin on her face that couldn’t be erased.

Lemon hadn’t been back in a long year and a half. After spending the first holidays after her parents’ divorce with her dad in Canada, she had to spend the next one with her mom in the Big Apple. Plus, her father got to travel to New York quite often those days and got to see her a lot. She sometimes sent things for Priyanka with him, a nice hoodie, a makeup bag, one of those stupid tourist t-shirts with the Statue of Liberty printed on it, sometimes a pair of dangling earrings or a simple letter and a picture of her. She treasured each of those little trinkets.

Priyanka was saving money from her allowance and was hoping to get a job soon so she could buy a car someday and visit her friend in the big city, they might even go on a road trip over the summer, it was a nice thought to hold onto until they could hang out again.

On the day of Lemon’s audition, Priyanka was restless. She got kicked out of one of her classes because she kept fidgeting, twitching, moving around, and chewing gum. It drove her teachers insane. Scarlett and Kiara mocked her from the window of the classroom and then got a warning as well.

Later that day she cleaned all her room to avoid thinking. She found several pictures of her and Lemon over the years –including that one time they tried Lemon’s mom makeup for the first time, Lemon was missing her two front teeth-, there were some photos from their first days of school and even Lemon at Priyanka’s plays. She was so pissed when she got that old lady role instead of the main character but she had managed to steal the scene anyway.

As the sun was setting, she didn’t know what else to do. She did the dishes without offering resistance and then got into an argument with her little sister who wanted to watch Hannah Montana while Priyanka just wanted to watch the new episode of America’s Next Top Model. She had to admit it though, the intro of Hannah Montana was kind of catchy (something she would never admit to her sister).

It was almost quarter to nine and she still didn’t have any news. There was a two-hour time difference with New York but still… it was gnawing her from the inside.

Right when Tyra was about to reveal which model got to stay for another week, the phone rang in the hallway and she couldn’t jump out of the couch fast enough.

«You have a phone call from-» Press one to accept, yeah, yeah, she knew that.

“Lemon?” She didn’t even wait for a «hello».

“Pri? Is it you?”

The sound of her voice brought her back to life, she could hear the sound of her heart beating again.

“Yes, it’s me! How did it go?”

“Oh my God, Pri… I’m calling you from a payphone in the middle of Times Square, this is insane. The girls lend me some cash to call you.” Priyanka could hear the sound of the traffic and even some giggles coming from outside of the phone.

“And? You’re killing me here, Lemz.” She had her fingers crossed even when she couldn’t see that gesture through the call and was holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder.

“It was so difficult I thought I was never going to learn the steps I’m literally so exhausted right now but…”

But.

“I got it, I got the spot!”

Priyanka started screaming.

“Priyanka!” Her mother shouted.

“Sorry…sorry!” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Lemon was cackling.

“Lemz, I might get in so much trouble for this but… Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.” She sounded truly happy, Priyanka wished she could see her right at that moment. “Jan, can you give me another quarter? Thanks, doll.”

That girl Jan again.

“So what are you girls are up to?”

“We’re going to get some pizza to celebrate. Jan is here as you heard, so are Goona, Rosé, Jackie… They say hi.”

“Tell them I said hi too.”

“She says hi… No, I’m not telling that, shut up…”

“What is it?”

“They are being assholes as usual… Listen, I have to go, I’m running out of coins and I still have to call my mom.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon… I’m so happy for you… Love you.”

“Love you too! See you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait.”

“Bye, Pri.”

She hung up but stood next to the phone for a moment, staring at it.

Just a few more weeks.

Priyanka kept begging her older brother to teach her how to drive. It took a few weeks of insistence until he gave up and the lessons started. They only stopped when the snow got too thick and the roads too slippery to practice. Still, by that time Priyanka was almost an expert. She needed to perfect her parking skills before turning sixteen and that would be it.

She also needed a car but that was the least important part.

“So when’s your girlfriend coming to town?” Scarlett asked.

Priyanka choked on her hot chocolate and coughed a couple of times. “Lemon’s not my girlfriend.”

Kiara rolled her eyes.

“Ah, yes, I can’t wait to finally meet her!” Juice –the latest addition to their group- said.

They were at the coffee shop, outside was freezing cold and the smell of fresh-baked pastries had dragged them inside the warm environment. Scarlett was having a black coffee while Priyanka and Kiara had their respective hot chocolate with marshmallows and Juice ordered a cappuccino with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.

“So?” Scarlett arched a brow.

“Her flight is booked for next week if the snowstorms allow them to fly.”

“I remember you two from primary school; they were joined by the hip, even before you shared diapers or something.” Kiara mocked.

“Oh, that’s right. You were in her classroom in kindergarten back when Ilona prevented everyone from playing with her.”

“That’s because Lemon spilled some paint over Ilona’s drawing… it was kids’ things. We all forgot when some random kid wet his pants or whatever.”

“And when did the crush began?”

Priyanka shot daggers at Scarlett with her eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on her. She’s literally my best friend, you guys are delusional.”

“Sure…” Kiara stirred her chocolate. “But it’s been what? Almost two years since she graced us with her presence?”

“Yeah, her parents didn’t want her to travel alone last time so her father flew to New York.”

“All jokes aside,” Scarlett changed her irksome ‘let’s pick on Priyanka’ tone for a minute. “Are you going to tell her about…?”

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka discovered she didn’t like kissing boys.

It had been at a lame party in a basement, her classmates had invited her and one of them suggested they should play seven minutes in heaven. Priyanka was about to skip it and refill her paper cup with cheap vodka and orange juice when she got dragged by the wrist and pushed into the closet with a guy from the hockey team. She suspected he had a crush on her for the longest time and this was instigated by his friends but the moment the door was locked, she panicked.

Her friends tried to get her out of there but there were a few underdeveloped brains and much muscle blocking the door. So she guessed she was doing it. The guy wasn’t that bad –she liked to believe- he told her they didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to and he was what most girls of the classroom referred to as «handsome». Priyanka shouted she was okay to calm down her friends and figured the best she could do was getting over it once and for all.

It was her first kiss.

The guy had rough lips and a slippery tongue and it was in the middle of all that smooching when his hand went under her lower back that she knew, she wasn’t enjoying it at all. She pushed the guy aside and used the back of her hand to clean her lips, she’d need some mouthwash as well. He asked if everything was okay but she was too condescending and told him that she was feeling dizzy.

The door was unlocked when he asked his friends to do it. Priyanka walked back –ashamed-to her group of friends as Kiara told them they were all disgusting and how stupid the game was. Priyanka called her brother from a phone upstairs and left soon after. For the first time, she was quiet on the way back home.

Later that night when she was laying on her bed in the darkness, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking about how she was supposed to feel kissing that guy -any guy- or thinking about the fact that she wasn’t even remotely attracted to boys but mostly, thinking how she so wished that guy was someone else, how she wished that guy was a girl.

The following week at school the not-so-nice-guy had told everyone that Priyanka was basically a slut and if it wasn’t because she was so wasted, they could’ve gone to third base in that closet that very night. Priyanka wasn’t ashamed anymore, she was angry. Very angry. During lunch, she walked directly towards him and exposed him in front of everyone, not only denying the absurdity of those rumors but also stating that she would never even consider touching his small dick.

After that, Priyanka was done with guys, boys, and men in general.

She had a heart-to-heart conversation with her friends afterward but –to no one’s surprise- she ended up with the least heterosexual and most supportive group of friends in the world.

Still… she hadn’t been able to tell Lemon yet. She had tried but there was something about phone calls that didn’t help at all, she wanted to tell her in person, she wanted to see her face and know that everything was okay. And she planned to do it during her visit.

“I’ll try.” Priyanka stated, hoping the universe cooperated with her.

“Good. So you can make out under the mistletoe next.” There she was again.

“Okay, you two,” She pointed at Scarlett and Kiara. “you have to stop it or I’m going to do you guys dirty and you know I can.”

They started laughing, clearly taking Priyanka’s threaten lightly.

“That’s it! You,” She directed toward Kiara. “I have seen you drooling over Kyne the entire semester.”

Kiara went pale.

“And you two…” She turned back to Scarlett and Juice that were cackling sitting on the couch. “Yes, I’m talking to you, do you really believe I haven’t seen the way you look at each other, those stolen glances, the subtle touches? Please, is this a Jane Austen novel or what? You ain’t that smooth.”

“Hey! I didn’t say anything!” Juice protested.

Scarlett’s mouth turned into a thin line and her ears were suddenly pink colored. She murmured something Priyanka couldn’t catch but rhymed with «witch».

“Sorry girl, I warned you heads would roll and I’m not leaving any survivors if that’s what it takes.”

Scarlett put her hands up as a sign of surrender. “I respect it, you’re a bitch but I respect it.”

So that was the word she used.

Lemon would arrive at any minute now.

Her father was picking her up from the airport, they would have lunch at some fancy restaurant in the city center and then he’d drop Lemon at Priyanka’s house until sunset –that was when she had to leave again to have dinner with her relatives.

Priyanka kept moving her right leg, restless while sitting on the couch, eyes nailed on the window.

“Priyanka, take the trash out, it’s your turn.” Her mother told her casually as she directed upstairs.

“Mom!” She complained. “I’m doing important things.”

“You’re sitting on the couch.”

“My point exactly.”

Her mom gave her the glare. “Trash. Out. Now.”

She grumbled but did as asked.

Priyanka put on an extra thick coat over her jeans and knitted orange sweater, adjusted her wool socks and boots, and adventured to the exterior world of the Canadian winter wonderland. She only had to walk a few steps but she could feel her body freezing with the icy breeze. The snow was blinding white and she could hear the whistle of the wind blowing and the sound of her own teeth chattering.

She didn’t even hear the sound of the car stopping right at the entrance of her house nor the door closing or the steps.

She barely had time to turn around when an identified running person hit her like an asteroid. Lemon was small but she still got the strength to tackle Priyanka down with a hug. She didn’t even notice whether the snow was cold or not.

“Hey!” She was still down on the ground and needed to turn around once Lemon moved. “You’re here…”

The vision was dazzling. Lemon’s face, her eyes, her smile from ear to ear with full teeth showing, her blonde hair falling like a cascade over her rosy cheeks. It was as if she had been taken from an Andersen fairytale or a Tchaikovsky composition, ice queens and fairies fluttered around Priyanka’s head.

“I’m here! Can you believe it?”

She was still pretty much straddled on Priyanka, making the brunette blush and hoping she could blame it on the weather. Finally, Lemon got to stand up and helped her friend to get on her feet again.

Lemon was irretrievably tiny but there was something different about her since the last time they had seen each other. She looked less like the little girl Priyanka remembered and more like a teen pop star of the magazines they used to read with her slightly curled lighter hair, pink glossy lips, longer lashes… She was wearing a yellow sweater and a white puffy jacket with matching fake fur around the neck, corduroy pants, and cream boots. Even her glasses were stylish now.

“Wait, are you taller?” She observed.

“No, you just shrunk in the washing machine.”

Lemon elbowed her and then turned to wave at her dad that was still in the car.

“He told me he saw you in the supermarket the other day and asked what does your mom feed you with so I could get some too.”

Priyanka laughed at loud. “He got you there.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“But enough with my height, let’s go inside, I think I got snow on my socks and I don’t want to catch a cold or wait until another short person attacks me.”

“Hey, you said enough with the height.”

“No, no. I clearly said mine, not yours.”

Lemon rolled her eyes and there it was the old Lemon she knew so well, the exact dose just a little less sugary and a bit sour.

They went to Priyanka’s room, she shared it with her middle sister but she was currently busy practicing at music school with her cello for her end of the year concert, there were a few trophies, certificates, and distinctions on her side of the room meanwhile Priyanka’s was a collage of pictures with the girls, an album cover Avril Lavigne, one large poster she got from the local cinema when Spice World was brought back for a special feature and she forced her friends to watch it for the millionth time, some random doodles she did in class and of course, photos and postcards Lemon had sent to her.

The blonde smiled when she spotted a picture of them from their first day of primary school, their backpacks were bigger than them.

They removed the heavy coats, Priyanka changed her wet socks for new ones and a pair of slippers. Lemon was prying into the mess that was her desk, her fingers roaming through her school books, comic books, magazines, and scattered papers as if she tried to figure out if she still knew the owner of that space in the way she used to.

They sat on Priyanka’s bed on the nothing-like-Priyanka flowery blanket one of her aunts got her for a birthday. Priyanka’s mom dropped by to say hi and left a tray with two smoky cups of tea.

“I love your mom, she read my mind.” Lemon said, wrapping her hands around the warm porcelain.

“She’s being nice only because you’re around.” Priyanka took a sip of her tea. “I wonder if it’s a good time to tell her that I broke one of her flowerpots when I was practicing with the skateboard.”

“You’re the worst.” Lemon giggled.

“Certified. Three years in a row.”

The blonde shook her head. “Does she still make that incredible curry with potatoes?”

“Yeah, once in a while.”

“Oh my God… I tell you I’ve dreamt about it. You know I love Christina to dead but she can’t cook at all.”

Lemon, at some point after the divorce, had stopped addressing her mother as “mom” and now she called her by her first name.

“Do you remember she always made dinner with dry spaghetti and can sauce?”

“You laugh all you want but that’s my comfort food till this day.” Priyanka defended her.

“She doesn’t even cook it anymore, now we buy it all pre-cooked or already cooked. She might even forget how to boil water. Anyway, we’ve tried a thousand restaurants but I swear to you, Pri, no one can cook like your mom.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve missed one of us.”

Lemon threw a pillow at her face.

“Of course I’ve missed you, dumbass.”

They did each other’s nails, Priyanka ended up with a light blue shade Lemon had brought for her and it was allegedly the same color as Tiffany’s, and the blonde insisted she had to draw a white ribbon to make it look like the jewel’s teeny tiny boxes.

From there, Priyanka could see everything. Lemon frowning, concentrated on her task, the way she batted her lashes, her pretty eyes, the little freckles she had over her nose, the shape of her cupid bow turned into an unintentional pout… her lips.

Priyanka gulped and then Lemon caught her staring.

“What is it?” She looked for some hint in Priyanka’s face. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No… I’m just making sure you don’t fuck up the design.”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I’m almost done.”

While Priyanka’s nails got dried, they talked about school, classes they liked and disliked, teachers that they loathed or loved, then about their plans after turning sixteen, Priyanka told her about the driving lessons and Lemon told her she wanted to dress up as Cher Horowitz –of course- for her birthday and by the time Priyanka started with Lemon’s nails, she was reviving her dance audition.

“I tell you, Pri, there was a moment I doubt I’d got in. It was a flash but I felt it in my stomach I thought I was going to puke and mess everything up.”

“Hey, but you didn’t. I’m sure you nailed it.”

The blonde sighed. “Still, New York is like… everything’s so fast and everyone’s competitive to the point where you can’t get distracted or someone else will go after what you have. It’s nice to be here for a change, this is the only place I can really relax. It sucks that I can only stay for a week and five of those seven days I have to visit my dad’s relatives out of town.” She met Priyanka’s eyes. “I wish I could get to spend more time with you, you know?”

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat. At that moment what she suspected but didn’t dare to say at loud became a reality, all those corny songs from the 90’s suddenly made sense, all the movies Hollywood had sold labeled as «romance» acquired a new meaning and she finally understood what «to have butterflies in one’s stomach» really felt like.

She liked Lemon. She liked her best friend…. And she liked her a lot.

That was the reason she hadn’t been able to tell her about what happened earlier that year at the party because it wasn’t just that she wanted to kiss a girl instead of a guy, she wanted to kiss one particular girl and she was right in front of her at that very moment.

They never warned her about it, they never told her that she would live normally until the day she’d realize she could harbor such feeling inside, that one day she’d just… know.

She almost dropped the nail polish bottle over the blanket.

“Oh, careful.” Lemon grabbed it just in time. She looked at her friend with concern in her eyes. “Pri, are you okay? You look… pale.”

“What? Ah, yeah… it’s nothing. I’m recovering from a cold I caught, that’s it…” She shook her head and took a breath of air. “I’m sorry, you were saying…”

“About the dance academy,” Lemon resumed her story. “the girls think I can make it through the next three years, and then I can major in dancing, I might even get a scholarship if I do outstandingly well.”

There was something, a little detail there that wasn’t… right.

“I hope you can visit me soon, you gotta meet the girls; you’re going to love them. Rosé and Jan are also Geminis, I guess that’s why I get along with them so well. Luckily, Jan would be my roommate if she gets her scholarship as well and…”

“Roommate?” Priyanka asked.

“Yeah… for college? We’re thinking about moving in together because rents are expensive even for the smallest studio apartment advertised. It’s a nightmare.”

“But wait… what happened with the plan? Our plan?”

Lemon opened her mouth to reply and then shut it.

“You forgot about it…”

“No! You know I didn’t… but… my options are wider now, I have to think forward and… did you seriously think-?”

“Yes. I did.” Priyanka didn’t even let her finish speaking.

Her soul had been just crushed.

“Pri, that’s not what I mean. We made that promise when we were ten, things have… changed since then.”

“Maybe they have changed for you but I’m still stuck here, I’m still counting on our plans… our promises. I’m still counting on you. The only thing that has changed is you and your pompous New Yorker glamorous lifestyle.”

“Oh, so it was so easy for me, right? It’s not like I had to attend a school where I didn’t know anyone, being the new girl and sitting alone during lunchtime for months while going through my parents’ divorce… I hated it the first months, Priyanka, I really did and I swear that talking to you on the phone and dancing were the only things that kept me alive…” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t until I met my friends that I felt like I could do it… that it wasn’t completely waste of time and that I wasn’t a totally useless person.”

“Lemon… you never said-”

There was a single sparkly tear falling down her cheek.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now. There you have it, my life isn’t a glamorous as you thought, is it?”

“It’s because that’s what you’ve told me! Maybe if you didn’t sugarcoat things I could’ve helped you…”

“And do what? And then what? You’d get tired of me with all those problems and we’d eventually drift apart. I’d become a burden for you.”

“What? Where did you get that from? Let me be your friend, that’s what friends do… they help each other during the rough times too, they tell each other things.”

“Oh, and you surely have told me everything that’s being going on here.”

Priyanka remained silent.

“I still talk with some people from school here and there… why didn’t you tell me about what happened at that party?”

“Lemon, that’s completely different…”

“Is it? Because from my perspective, it looks like we’re hiding things from each other now.”

“And breaking promises as well for what it seems.”

Lemon looked at her, she seemed hurt and it broke Priyanka’s heart to see her like that.

She wanted to reach her and hold her hand, hug her and tell her that everything was alright but at the same time, she was angry. She couldn’t have it both ways. It wasn’t fair.

Priyanka’s mother called them from downstairs; Lemon’s father was there to pick her up.

“I better go.” She grabbed her coat. “I’ll be back in five days if you want… whatever.”

She was gone before Priyanka could say something and frankly, she felt that if she opened her mouth it was going to get worse. It wasn’t until the girl left the house and she heard the car getting lost in the distance that she collapsed on her bed and started crying on the closest pillow she had.

Five days after, it was a New Year already but little had changed since they last met.

Lemon visited Priyanka’s house only to discover she wasn’t there.

“Could you please tell her I came to say goodbye?” She bit her inner cheek to contain a sob.

She had a flight to take back to New York.

Priyanka had taken the family’s car without permission and she had driven for a few hours, making sure there was no chance of their paths crossing. It was petty; she knew she was being childish avoiding her rather than talk things through and she was going to regret it and hate herself later, damn, she was going to get grounded for months but who cared? At that moment, the only thing that was on her mind was that she couldn’t see Lemon.

Not like that.

She did her wrong but she was partly right. Priyanka wasn’t being honest with her and she couldn’t tell her all the truth to restore their friendship.

She couldn’t tell her that she was gay and that she was in love with her because it would change it all.

It would destroy their friendship entirely.

Lemon would never reciprocate those stupid feelings of her.

Maybe if she put enough distance between them, those feelings would simply fade, go away, and right now, New York sounded distant enough.

If it was on her to do the hardest part for the sake of all the years they’ve been together, then she was going to do whatever it’d take.

Tears scorched her eyes.

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka loved her best friend Lemon but she also hated her.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #priyanka #lemon #lemon x priyanka #childhood friends #friends to lovers #lesbian au #timeskips #angst #long-distance friendship #come home to my heart #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

[louthestarspeaker]

Idleness

Another short for Fluffember! Tentatively using the prompt Fond (they all like each other so...) Scott took over this one. He was supposed to say like two things but decided he wanted to be chatty. He’s pretty hard to ignore.

This is another including Laurie, my original character. Thank you guys so much for all the love you gave her! You had me grinning all day :D  

Special thank you to @bonsaiiiiiii for the read-through and heaps of encouragement with this! You’re so wonderful <333

`*`

It shouldn’t be that hard to find one person on an island with a population of less than a dozen, but here Laurie was, making her second round of the villa and still no sign of her sister. 

Laurie trotted up the stairs into the lounge. No one here but Scott working at the desk, holographic documents floating around his face. Laurie had been trying not to disturb him, buuut…  

“Hey, Scott?”

“Hmmm?” He didn’t even look away from the projector.

Laurie tilted her head, trying to catch his eye, her glasses slipping down her nose some. “Are you really listening or just doing that thing where you hum at everyone so they think you’re listening?”

“The first one.” 

“Cool. Have you seen Des anywhere?”

“Out on the deck with Virge.” Scott said, indicating with a thumb over his shoulder.

Ohhh of course. 

See, Laurie had forgotten to check out there because it was filed away in the “incredibly dangerous” and “not an actual balcony” boxes in her brain. Why there was a whole door leading out there but no railing was a question she had yet to receive a straight answer for. 

With the light from inside and nightfall outside, the glass was made into a mirror. Laurie moved close to it, cupping her hands around her eyes so she could see out.

Des and Virgil had their backs to her, their silhouettes edged in the gold light from the lounge and the blue glow from a tablet they held. She and Virgil sat shoulder to shoulder, foreheads almost touching as they looked at the screen. They started speaking and Laurie saw that their mouths formed the same words.

The speaking in unison thing was not new. The two of them had been doing that for just about as long as Laurie could remember. Her brother Eagan, who found the whole thing wildly amusing, figured it was because they were both artists. Virgil in the musical and visual sense, Desiray in the poetic. They were cut from the same cloth, so to speak.

Alan and Gordon, on the other hand, had diagnosed telepathy, and spent a good week or two trying to develop some of their own with… limited success. They did, however, create a detailed code comprised entirely of eyebrow gestures to simulate the effect. 

John, so far, was the only person to crack it. Laurie was working in it.

Laurie smiled and turned away from the window. Des and Virge didn’t get very much downtime. She could wait. 

“Weren’t you looking for her?” Scott asked as she moved away from the glass.

Laurie shrugged. “I’ll catch her when she comes in. It’s just school stuff.”

There must have been something in her face, whatever it was prompting Scott to turn around and have a look out the window himself. He squinted a bit to make out Virgil and Desiray from behind the reflection, and then his face softened, his whole expression drifting into something fond.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scott said, he too turned away from the window, directing his attention back toward Laurie. “School work though, aren’t you on summer break?”

She was, but apparently a tropical island in the middle of the South Pacific wasn’t far enough to escape homework. 

“They give us a reading list and a bunch of math problems to make sure our brains don’t go to mush before we get back to school. I usually try to finish before I come here, but I’ve been busy.”

Scott nodded. He was more than aware the “busyness” constituted mostly of the IR projects they’d been gradually letting her take part in. She shadowed Brains sometimes, and was working on familiarizing herself with the specs of the Thunderbirds. 

She was doing well on the IR side of things, but Scott and her parents might need to have a talk about lightening her load if Laurie was pushing school to the back burner.

“Scott.” Laurie’s face said she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I’ve still got plenty of time to finish everything.” 

“Anything I can help you with?” That was Scotty, ever helpful, as if he didn’t already have enough to do.

Laurie cracked a smile. “Not unless you remember enough about The Metamorphosis to help me write a book report?”

“Yeah, you’re probably better off going to Des with that one. I’m pretty sure I only skimmed it.” 

Had he now? 

“Do you remember what you got?” Laurie asked, not at all suspiciously.

Her tone inevitably triggered Big Brother Mode, and he pinned her with a Look.

“Just asking?” 

Scott’s expression didn’t change. “A whole lot worse than I would’ve done if I’d actually read the book, I’ll tell you that.”

Laurie tapped a finger against her chin. “So is that more of B, maybe? I don’t wanna do less than a B.” 

“Laurie.”

She laughed. “Relax, Scott, I’ll read the book.”

“Mmhm.”

“I will! You’re supposed to be letting me move from flight simulations to Thunderbirds soon, and I am not about to sacrifice that for some incomplete homework.” 

“Alright, then.” Scott conceded, tugging lightly on her braid. “What about the math? I’m pretty good with that.” 

Laurie shrugged a shoulder. “I finished it already.” Well, finished mostly. “Do you need help with anything though?” She asked, turning the tables. 

There probably wasn’t a lot she could help with, but if there were calculations or something she might be able to lend a hand. She was pretty good with math too.

Scott raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his holo-display.  “Know anything about business negotiation?” 

Laurie peered closer at the documents, all the business jargon going right over her head. “Got anything with numbers?”

“Not tonight.”

Laurie shook her head, pivoting away from the desk. “Looks like you’re on your own then, Scotty.” She dropped into one of Alan’s rocket chairs, digging through the cushions for the remote. 

“Any preference?” She asked as she started flicking through programs. 

“No,” Scott said, and Laurie could hear a smile in his voice, “Just don’t forget about the calculus.”

She laughed. Of course he knew. Those older sibling super senses were always working overtime. Plus she was a terrible liar. “Sure, Scott. After this.”

A click of the remote and theme music played. Sometime later, Virgil and Des drifted back inside and settled in the lounge around her. Book reports were conveniently forgotten. Then Scott was coaxed from the desk by his brother, telling him to take just a quick break. It helped that Scott had been half watching from the desk already. 

Needless to say, with the lights dimmed and snacks abound, they all stayed there a while.    

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #fluffember2020 #Scott Tracy #Laurie Charter #original character #thunderbirds oc #lou writes things

[everythingoesnk]

1957

summary; you come to john’s rescue so he doesn’t fail his test. conversation takes a turn :p

word count; 2 283

warnings; flufliness 🤗🤗

********

On Wednesdays, your older sister was in charge of doing the shopping, but fever had confined her to her bed. By strict orders of your mother, the responsibility was now yours.

That’s why you ran late to meet Mrs Smith and her nephew.

As you stood alone in the hallway, awkward and reluctant, you wished your arrival at 251 Menlon Avenue had been interrupted by the stupidest distraction. Or that you’d have declined to come when you had the opportunity to.

Hearing them arguing upstairs wasn’t what you wanted to do with your evening. Neither was helping John to study for the math test he had the morning after. You couldn’t work miracles, and with this transparency you explained it to your grandma when she compelled you to lend him a hand.

She and Mimi had been good friends for years, and when they were together drinking tea last week, Mimi vented to her how John would distress her in the school field. Music, the young lad was only interested in music. His grades were pitiful, and she found herself running out of stratagems to incite John to get back on track. The guy managed to pass the rest of the subjects, but mathematics were an ordeal for him.

He despised numbers just as he despised having to waste time restricting his Gallotone when he could be rehearsing instead.

“Give me back the guitar, Mimi. Where do you have it?”

“You won’t see it until I hear from the test’s result”

“I’m trying my best!”

“Try harder”

There was a truculent silence that wasn’t a silence per se. They stopped talking, but John’s frantic steps as he paced around the room rummaging around and removing furniture from its place hoping the guitar would be hiding behind were unmistakable.

“It’s not there,” she said, nuisance reflected in her tone, expression inexpressive.

“Unless you ate it it must be somewhere in the house”

Mimi didn’t answer.

“Because it’s in the house, correct?”

Mimi exhaled, giving him a hostile glare. They weren’t in a state where she could throw money around like it was nothing. If she bought him the guitar, it wasn’t to resell it or dispose of it afterwards.

“Of course it is in the house. I’ll return it if you comply with our deal”

After Mimi drew the line, you heard the woman walking down the stairs.

Straightening up, you clasped nervously your fingers around your schoolbag’s strap.

She placed her peculiar hat on top of her hair and covered her figure with a long winter coat. Its corseted structure in the middle cinched in around her already lean frame.

“Do your best” she told you, making sure that she had everything she needed on her. “If you feel like hitting him, you have my permission”

“You’re leaving?”

“I have errands to run”

When Mimi walked over to you, she stopped by your side and looked you up and down.

“The shoes. You dirtied my carpet”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Smith”

You intended to offer cleaning it up yourself until it looked like it did before, but she had other plans.

“When you’re gone I’ll tell John to handle it, the boy lacks discipline. Anyone would think he’s being raised in a jungle rather than a humble home in the northwestern of England and I wouldn’t be able to contradict them”

You had nothing to respond her with, but she didn’t look like she was interested in hearing an answer.

She rekindled her step and marched out the house, half with hurry half slipping away in case John reappeared to keep niggling over how unfair she was.

You’d been in their home previously. Once.

John had been the sergeant who lead the army, devising a prank which sloshed over onto you. Army because his two friends were the ones to set the trap, John keeping his hands clean as the commander and mastermind he thought was. They put a paint bucket on top of the classroom door frame, and the three patiently waited to see who the victim would be.

You spent hours in the shower scraping the tacky liquid off your skin.

That same day, your grandma and you showed up at their doorstep because she wanted him to apologize.

The incident was the reason why you knew where he lived.

You eased down into one of the chairs in the kitchen and dropped your bag onto the table.

John knew you were there, you wouldn’t go searching for him.

Thing is, time went on, and he wouldn’t make an appearance. You checked your wristwatch and cursed. Almost fifteen minutes had ticked by and you were waiting like an idiot for someone who clearly did not care enough.

“Am I dreaming or did I just hear (Y/N) (Y/L/N) saying a bad word?”

You flinched and brought a hand up to your chest.

Looking to the left, you saw him standing barefoot in the doorway with his arms stretched upwards, gripping at the doorframe. Legs crossed at the ankles, a wicked grin curved his lips. He was wearing a white cotton tee and denim trousers that fit him tight in the thighs.

Once recovered from the shock, you shot him a bitter look.

“You’re wasting my time, you know that? The longer you delay it, the worse”

“I’ve had better,” he said, walking over to the sink where two large vertical windows on the wall displayed a perfect view of the back porch.

He closed them, grabbed a plain black sweatshirt that hung from the chair opposite you and put it over his head, messing up even more his already tousled humid hair. It was clear that he had a shower before you showed up. If he hadn’t had, it would be replicating Presley’s.

Until then you didn’t realise that the room was indeed chilly.

“Better what?”

“Better days. Thank you for asking and showing interest” he said, waving vaguely a hand.

He slumped in that same chair and glanced across at you.

“How are you, by the way?”

“Fed up. Tell me what you don’t understand and we’ll practice” you said, pulling out of the schoolbag the book and your pencil case.

John calmly watched you prepare everything. “Geometry, algebraic equations…  The entire book, if you will”

“If that’s the case, I see logic in noting down formulas first, that way you can try and memorize them too” you lifted your gaze and saw him with both hands plunged in the front pocket of his sweatshirt, shoulders relaxed. “Hello? Aren’t you getting something to write on?”

He let silence reign for a moment.

“Out of all the people in class, it had to be you,” he grumbled. You didn’t have a clue about what that was supposed to mean, but now his eyes were piercing into yours to the point where you felt very small very quick. He bounced to his feet with a huff. “I’ll be right back”

Upon his return, he carried with him a notebook with doodlings drawn by him on the cover and a pencil hanging loose between his teeth. Along the way, at some point, he tugged the hood over his face, so now you couldn’t see the top half of it.

He took the seat again and with an unfriendly look began copying the theory.

“If you’d paid attention from the beginning perhaps you wouldn’t be against the clock now”

“I can’t focus if you speak,” he grunted.

“You’re just copying” you said, raising your left eyebrow. “But alright, I’ll shut it”

When he was done, he tossed the pencil and dragged his hands down his face, pulling at the skin under the eyes.

“I hate this” he condemned.

“You hate everything that doesn’t involve music” you clarified, no malice in your statement.

“That’s not true” he scowled, pushing the hood back, actually feeling insulted.

“Alright, tell me something you don’t hate,” you propped your elbows onto the table, laced your fingers and rested your chin there.

“I don’t hate the singing of birds waking me up in the morning, and I don’t hate hanging out with you”

As much as you tried to hide it, John saw how your lips tipped up.

“Am I supposed to feel touched?”

“I’d be really sad if you didn’t. That was smooth”

“Oh wow yes, so smooth, the smoothest” you sneered, taking his notebook to write down a few problems for him to resolve.

“Smoothest” he echoed. “Is that a word?”

“It is” you weren’t sure if he was serious.

“Sounds strange to me, never used it before”

“Venustraphobia sounds awful as well and it’s a real term”

“What does it mean?”

“Fear of attractive women”

“Holy shit, is that true?” he asked, fiddling now with his pencil.

“Yeah”

“So that’s a thing. Does the phobia exist the other way around? Women fearing handsome men?”

“I guess?”

He nodded, amused. “It must be hard for you”

Confused, you raised your eyes and cocked your head with an inquisitive frown.

“Collecting yourself, I mean” he explained, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You’re doing a terrific job pretending you’re not suffering. As you might know, I’m quite charming myself”

You just stared back for some time, holding back a laugh until it became impossible to restrain.

John was so much fun when he didn’t behave like a dick, you hated to admit, which only happened when his macho friends were around. He was the leader of the group, sure, but it seemed that all he wanted was acceptance from them, to belong somewhere. Pretty much he let them change him. Although when he wasn’t near them, the carefree happy bouncy John you knew returned each time.

Abs burning from laughing, you doubled over as you hugged your abdomen. This bitch, you thought. Your shoulders kept shaking as you tried to subside your chuckles, but you couldn’t stop.

John observed your reaction placidly.

Bright with delight, his eyes gleamed when you kept patting your thigh as a conduit for the laughter.

“My God” you breathed, fanning yourself.

“It’s rude using my name in vain,” he teased, wagging the accusatory finger in your direction.

“You’re far from being God” you retorted, your chuckles fading. You gave him back his notebook. “Enough chitchat. Do these exercises and I’ll correct them”

You waited then, keeping an eye on him as well as inspecting your nails to pass the time.

He raked a hand through his hair and kept it there, closing it in a fist at the top of his head.

A sappy feeling settled in your stomach. Seeing him saturated after half an hour trying to get something done softened your heart.

He suddenly looked up, but when he caught you looking too, John quickly dropped his head.

Five more minutes and he passed you the notebook.

“Voilà. Now you can laugh at me”

“I’m not gonna laugh at you. No one is born knowing” you responded quietly.

Silently revising his answers, you got distracted remembering one thing he said earlier.

Rosiness present in your cheeks, your gaze settled cautiously upon him. “You don’t like me?”

His brows drew together in deep puzzlement.

“What?”

“‘Out of all the people in class, it had to be you’” you quoted him, your heart beating erratically. You were worried that its pumps would tear a hole in your chest. “I wanna know why you said that. Is it because you don’t like me?”

A muscle tickled in his jaw, but his expression was humourless.

“That’s not it”

You hoped his response would bloom into something more specific, but he remained with his mouth shut, tension building up between the two.

“What’s it?” you pressed.

Darkness igniting his eyes, he leaned back in his chair.

“Answering your previous question, I do. A lot, actually. That’s my issue”

Petrified, your pulse shot to the sky.

“Why is it an issue?”

“We both know why”

Was John Lennon telling you with all his chest that he was interested in dating you but that he’d never acted upon it ‘cause he assumed you were out of his league?

“You didn’t ask me about my feelings, not once”

“Why would I? You’re sweet and smart. I’m none of that”

Oh, Johnny boy. His words cracked your heart. Lies, they were cruel lies.

“What are you doing this Friday?” you inquired. “I don’t know if you know, but I really like painting. I held an exhibition at school—”

“I’m aware. I was there”

Warmth radiating up your body, you fought back a stunned gasp. “You went?”

He never mentioned it before.

Gazing in each other’s eyes longingly, a goofy side smile fleetingly graced his lips.

Electric tingles spread through your nervous system. You composed yourself with a toss of the head. And he dared to say he wasn’t sweet? You were drowning in diabetes.

“My point is, the school’s newspaper asked me to present something new, and I have yet to finish my piece. Maybe, if you want, you could join me and we make each other company. You can bring your guitar and play some music”

You’re adorable, he wanted to interrupt, mouth twitching.

“I guess I could do that” he said instead.

“Awesome” you bit on your bottom lip, thrilled.

“I’m concerned, though”

“Concerned?” your eyebrows snapped together. Was he having second thoughts? “About what?”

“Concerned that I will start developing venustraphobia now that I’m gonna spend more time with you”

Your laughter hugged his soul.

John contemplated stupefied how easy you made it to fall in love.

Just hearing your giggles was enough for him to understand he could never compose a melody more lovely and magical than that.

#john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #the beatles #john lennon imagine #john lennon fanfic #john lennon fanfiction #fluffy #john lennon #tayloredstarr

[so--many-fandoms]

Jaskier is technically a noble, right? So he probably had to go through all the fancy noble tutoring and such, not just for math and literacy and normal school stuff but for etiquette and politics and all the noble-specific training that anyone who might end up ruling at least some portion of land would need.

After Cintra falls, Ciri is the last remaining heir to the throne (unless you start looking into distant cousins and other branches that may or may not exist or have any claim to the throne); either way, assuming they manage to drive nilfgard out someday, she’ll be the next ruler. Do you see where I’m going with this?

At some point, probably a few months after they found eachother, Ciri is going to make some comment about how having her former life destroyed sucks but at least she’s escaped her boring old lineage tutor or something, and Geralt is going to realize that not only is he in charge of raising and protecting a tiny human child, he’s in charge of a royal tiny human child who will one day be the Queen of an entire country. Then he’s going to panic because she definitely needs to be learning things for that but they don’t teach Witchers how to be nobles, he has no idea what she needs to learn, this isn’t like sword fighting, he can’t teach her himself! And so his first thought will probably be Yennefer, because she was a court mage and he had probably already asked her to help teach Ciri magic/control. When he asks, though, she says she can’t help him because while sure, they received some court training at Aretuza, it was all manipulation and making people like you enough to avoid getting killed or fired for accidentally offending some random important noble (its a different story if you did so on purpose, of course). Anyway, she had never learned any of the things nobles had to know, and especially not the kinds of things they taught noble children. She was 0% qualified to be a royal tutor for anything beyond magic, and probably reading/languages (particularly Elder) and maybe math, because some spells definitely involve math to get the correct affect.

So Geralt is still panicking, and now he’s thinking he’s going to somehow have to find some noble that he can trust to know where Ciri is, and worse, what kind of noble would be willing to travel around the continent with a Witcher? So he is thinking that he’s probably going to have to leave Ciri with this random noble for months at a time, because she needs an education and to be prepared to rule but how the fuck is he going to find some noble who’s both willing to look after a Witcher’s kid (who might be the crown princess of a powerful kingdom but is also being hunted by a powerful invading army with a dark mage, any political advantage from fostering her would be negated by the huge target doing so would paint on your back) and trustworthy enough that Geralt could let her out of his sight with them? Now, there are two ways this could go.

1) yennefer Knows Things and decided to take pity on Geralt after he’s so clearly (well, clear to people that know him well(or can read minds)) freaking out over the issue, and casually mentions “isn’t that bard of yours a Viscount or something? Maybe he can help.” Skip Geralt’s what kind of viscount is named Jaskier?? confusion (yen: you didn’t know that’s not his real name?), he immediately goes to track Jaskier down, because even if they haven’t seen eachother since the dragon mountain, and Jaskier might never want to see him again no matter how much he apologizes, he knows Jaskier would never turn on Ciri. He finds him rather quickly because a lot of people are gossiping about the “Toss a Coin” bard who has recently debuted a fantastic new tragic love ballad (Geralt is definitely having Feelings the first time he hears it. Maybe it’s just coincidence that the story of Her Sweet Kiss sounds so familiar? It has to be, right? Right??? Because if not... well. There’s a third person in that song, and Geralt doesn’t think he could possibly have been that blind- but then again, he’d never known his friend was a noble or his name wasn’t actually Jaskier, had he?). Cue lots of reunitement feels and apologies and hugs (and Ciri shipping them from the background). Geralt is so relieved that Jaskier is safe and forgave him that he forgets why he had been looking for him so urgently until Jaskier asks something about where he was going/why he was in town or something like that. Geralt says something about how he’s currently raising a Princess, and he can teach her fighting and survival but he didn’t even know she was supposed to be studying things like a century’s worth of noble family trees and how to tell someone to fuck off with silverware until she mentioned how much more exciting monster-identification-lessons were, and apparently Jaskier is actually a noble? Named Julian??? And Jaskier, being fluent in Geralt, correctly interprets this as “what. Geralt. You want me to be Cirilla’s tutor? The future queen of Cintra? I’m not as young as I look, it’s been decades since I had to think about any of that bullshit, oh, fu-sorry, sorry, small ears, gods. I may be a professor at Oxford for a winter every now and then, but I am NOT a royal tutor! Besides the fact that royals learn things lower nobles don’t, I’m from Rhedania, not Cintra, we use an entirely different fashion language, and they have a weird thing about-” “Jaskier. Where the fuck am I going to find a trustworthy Cintran noble, let alone one qualified to teach her?” “Language! and they- oh. Good point. I suppose I know more about it than you do, at the least. Ugh. If I’m going to have to try to remember all this sh-stuff, I definitely am going to need some books. Cintra’s library would be best, country specific info and all, but there’s no way we’re going to get any of that, if it hasn’t burned already. Maybe Oxenfurt? If we-” “make a list. Yen has... resources.” “Well that’s terrifyingly ominous. And I hope you’re planning on letting me teach her music too, if we’re going to have to put up with all this stuffy etiquette!”

2) Yennefer doesn’t say anything, either because she figures Geralt must already know and have chosen not to go to Jaskier for some reason or because she never bothered to pay enough attention to Jaskier to find out herself. Geralt leaves to continue on his way to Kaer Morhen or just Away, because they’re still too close to Nilfgard’s front line for his comfort, and assumes that he’s just going to have to wait for the war to end to find a trustworthy noble who can teach her. On the way, they hear that Jaskier is just a couple of towns out of their way and decide to go find him because Geralt has been wanting to apologize for being a dick for months but he’d been too focused on Ciri’s safety to track him down (or maybe they just walk into a tavern and he’s there, preforming, and it’s awkward and angsty and leaves Ciri wishing she could lend them a brain cell or two because clearly they have none). Geralt apologizes, angst is had, feelings are aired. In the end, Jaskier decides to follow them because he’s missed Geralt and also he’s kind of famous for being the White Wolf’s Bard, and if Nilfgard is looking for Geralt a squishy (mostly?)human bard is a much easier target than a Witcher, and so he should also probably be heading away from the war and who is he to deny the extra protection of traveling together? Anyway, after they’ve been reunited for a few days or weeks, Jaskier gets fed up because he knows Geralt has been angsting over something, and at first he thought it was related to the whole reunion drama but it’s been long enough and it clearly has not gotten better. So he waits until Ciri is asleep and ambushes Geralt with concerned questions because sometimes the element of surprise was the only way to get him to spill things regarding feelings. Geralt knows he won’t give up, so he tells him about how he’s worried because he can do his best to protect Ciri physically, but he never thought himself qualified to raise a child, let alone a princess who will inherit a kingdom, and he knows there are a lot of things she should be learning to be ready for her future responsibilities but he had never had anything even resembling a noble education, and Yennefer may have been a court mage but she didn’t either, and unless Jaskier had some secret noble lover who would be willing to travel with them and live in a castle full of Witchers for however long the war lasted, he wasn’t going to be able to give her the education she needed until at least after the war, and she’d probably be expected to take the throne at that point so clearly that would be an issue, because while on the job training is great the fate of the kingdom would be in the balance, and- (okay, a lot of that was probably Jaskier reading between the lines. Geralt would never have spoken that much, but he was definitely thinking all of it, and Jaskier had gotten quite good at reading his Witcher over the years, thank you very much). “Geralt. You do know I’m technically a Viscount, right?” *confused silence* “Sure, I might not know every detail about Cintra’s trade history or some of the more royal-specific stuff, and it’s been a while since I had my own lessons, but if I had to sit through 16 years of unbearable Nobility Education, I may as well do something useful with it. I might not be at all qualified under normal circumstances, but I’m definitely better than nothing, right? And I can easily make learning it much more interesting than some stuffy old tutor or governess. Do you know how much easier it is to memorize dates and names when set to music?” “What the fuck.” “Oh, and literature! Rhetoric! Grammar! Not necessarily vital to ruling, you have scribes for a reason, but really words are one of the few things I actually am officially qualified to teach. No reason I shouldn’t go the whole way if I’m already doing this, and a good education is an important tool for anyone.”

#the witcher #im sorry this is so long #if only i had this much motivation for my essays #geraskier #jaskieralt? #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #i love her #honestly i love all of them

[dearmrsawyer]

Self Care Tag List

Le @candybarrnerd tagged me to do this soo long ago i’m so sorry but thank you for tagging me!!

🌿 Favorite comfort food: Mmm either mashed potato or i love chopping potatoes into little cubes, frying them up with a little salt and sometimes some lemon juice! til they’re nice and crispy. and towards the end i chuck in a can of (drained) corn kernels. It’s something my mum did a lot growing up, i love it. Um no other components necessary lol, just a plate of potato thank you

🌼Favorite alcohol (or hot drink): I don’t drink alcohol and my favourite hot drink is peppermint tea with a generous teaspoon of sugar

🌷Favorite relaxing activity: Any chance i get to lay a blanket down on the grass in my backyard and read under the sun. Usually Sawyer will join me

🌸Favorite fluffy/feel good fic: anything by @1000-directions @dinoflangellate and @magicalrocketships, or the mockingbird series by ont. not everything is strictly fluffy but its all feel good to me. i’ve reread everything 400 times and there’s no stopping me. 

🌻Favorite calming scent: when i bury my face in my cat. its hard to describe the smell of your pet, they’re like people, they just smell a certain way and its familiar and soothing. 

🌺Favorite relaxing or uplifting song: oh those are very different things! i think relaxing music for me is instrumental stuff, soundtracks. i don’t find music with lyrics particularly relaxing, no matter the vibe. like i’m always ~~feeling~~ something so hyping up any emotion is not really relaxing lol. uplifting, the majority of Louis Tomlinson’s debut album Walls :)

🌵Favorite white noise: rain i think. i’m not big on white noise but it is always really nice to listen to the rain outside. 

🍄Favorite book to get lost in: i don’t tend to reread books because i feel immense pressure to get to all the books i haven’t read!!! (it is so interesting that i don’t feel that pressure with fic, like sure i am super super keen to read the many fics i have marked to read, but i don’t feel PRESSURE to read one of those rather than reread a fic i know and love!) but thinking about books i’d want to reread, to get swept up in the emotional experience again, DEFINITELY any of Cassandra Clare’s series. i know she’s got a dodgy fandom history but UGH the emotions. truly the pinnacle experience of YA reading for me

💐Favorite chill out tv show: ohh... i consider most tv i watched chill out tv. The only shows that wouldn’t be chill out tv are things like Lost, which is a very important emotional experience and must only be rewatched with the utmost attention and investment. but all the shows i watch would be considered family entertainment so it all lends itself to chilled out rewatching. and i do that a lot. if i have to pick something, Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis are really wonderful feel-good chill tv

🌹The best advice you’ve ever had: gosh its so hard to recall any advice when asked this question D: well, i have obviously received advice since then but back in my senior year of highschool i had mentoring sessions with my maths teacher. the sessions weren’t maths focused, they were more like general advice/support with whatever you were struggling with. and i remember her telling me that when i’m overwhelmed by the amount of work i have, to break it down into smaller components and focus on the pieces instead of the whole. i’m sure i would’ve figured this out eventually lol but i think she was the first person to tell me that. and that’s how i operate every single day! whether its a work day or a me day, every single day is a list, and everything on that list is broken down into its own list, everything i do (no matter how big or small) is a tick on the list. Thanks Ms Macci!

Okay i would like to tag @silveredsound @nightwideopen @1000-directions @queerindeed @astorytotellyourfriends

#i'm gonna spread out the memes i've been tagged in so its not too much and also so i don't tag anyone six times in one day lol #as always tagged friends only do it if you feel like it :) #i need to make some cubed potato and corn very much #meme

[spriggan-tail]

Big Bang Event!

This amazing story was written by the talented @superfreakerz! It was super fun working together to make this piece (with @ccrispy modding us :P) ! We hope you enjoy it :)  @nalugruviaevents

Modern/Comedy

Summary: Lucy goes to throw eggs at her ex's house and finds some else is already doing it. She joins the strange, pink-haired boy and gets to know him in the process.

________________________________________________________________ “Run!” 

 Lucy parked down the street, just for safe measure.  Taking a deep breath, she threw her black hoodie on to cover her golden locks of hair, which would only serve to help identify her if left exposed.  She couldn’t have that happen.  Not when what she was doing was technically illegal.

Stashing her wallet in the glovebox, she grabbed the carton of eggs that was sitting on the passenger seat.  She turned on her phone’s flashlight, for she needed to make sure she got the right house.  Taking another deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, the girl mustered up some courage before swinging the car door open and heading out into the night. 

Lucy Heartfilia was a good person.  More than good, actually. She was exceptional.  She had straight A’s, never missed a class, and spread kindness through every person she met.  But tonight, she was going to channel her inner rebel for some revenge.  Tonight, she was going to egg someone’s house.

Not just anyone’s house.  Her ex-boyfriend’s house.  The sleazy dude deserved it after everything he had done. 

Clutching the carton of eggs to her chest, Lucy kept looking over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was around.  It was nearly two in the morning, so the chances of someone going on a stroll were slim to none.  So far, the odds were in her favor.

As Lucy approached the correct house at the corner of the street, her heart dropped to her stomach as she saw someone else.  They were clad in similar clothing as her, black sweats and a black hoodie that shadowed over their face and hid their features. 

Lucy stopped in her tracks.  What kind of person goes out at that time of night in all black clothing?  Only murderers do that!

Then again, I’m out here…”

But that was different.  She was there for justice!  This person, she had no idea what they were doing. 

Swallowing thickly, the girl was about to turn and head back to her car.  Perhaps she could get revenge a different way.  A less dangerous way that wouldn’t get her in trouble.

But then the person turned towards her.

Lucy stifled a scream, willing her legs to turn back and run.  To just run to her car and get the hell out of there. 

“Shit,” she heard the person mutter.  It was a boy judging from their voice. 

Lucy shivered in her spot, sweat dripping down her face.  Her stomach felt like a washing machine as the person began to walk towards her.  Unfortunately, Lucy wasn’t a fight or flight type of person.  She was the kind of person who froze in times like these.  All she could do was watch as the boy approached. 

He stopped just in front of her.  Lucy couldn’t make out any of his features thanks to it being nearly pitch black, along with his hoodie shadowing over his face. 

Great, if he hurts me, now I won’t be able to identify him.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut.  If the guy was going to kill her, she’d rather not watch.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, shocking her.

Lucy opened her eyes, peering at him again.  At his rude tone of voice, the fear that had consumed her before was replaced with irritation.  Glaring back at him, she shot back, “Who the hell are you?”

“That’s none of your business!” the boy replied, looking over his shoulders.  “Just get the hell out of here!  And don’t tell anyone you saw someone here!”

“So you are a killer?” Lucy asked, her brows drooping in concern as she took a fearful step back.

“What the hell?  Of course I’m not a killer!  Why would you think that?”

“You just said-!”

“I’m not a killer!  I’m just egging someone’s house!”

Lucy closed her mouth, her eyes growing wide.  Sure enough, glancing down at his hands, she found an egg resting in one of them rather than the gun she was imagining.

“No way,” she breathed out.  “Me too.”

“What?”

“Me too!”  Lucy showed him the carton of eggs. 

“No way!  That’s awesome!”

Lucy pointed her flashlight at the house she was going to target.  There were already some egg remnants splattered over the wood frames.  She turned towards him.

“Wait, why are you egging this house?  Do you know Dan too?” she asked.

“Nope.  I lost a bet and as punishment, I’m supposed to egg this entire street and try not to get caught.”

“Well, you chose a stupid time to do that then.”

“Oi!  You’re out here too, you know!”

“That’s because I know Dan and his schedule.  He’s out right now. But with everyone else, I’m sure they’ll be home sleeping, and throwing an egg at their house will just wake them up.  You need to do it while they’re at work.”

The boy brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing it as he gave an awkward chuckle.  “Huh.  Guess I didn’t think about that.”  He glanced towards the house.  “So, wanna join me?”

“Okay!”

Lucy set down the carton of eggs on the pavement.  Opening it, she grabbed some ammunition.  Her heart pounded in her chest, a wave of excitement rushing over her.  She’d never done anything like this before, and once she was done, she was never going to do it again.  It just wasn’t her scene.

Looking over her shoulders to make sure nobody else was around, the girl chucked an egg at Dan’s house, wincing as she heard it crack against his door.  It was fun, but also terrifying at the same time.  It was exhilarating.

A giddy laugh slipped past the girl’s lips as she covered her mouth with her hands. 

“Wow.  This is actually kind of fun,” she said, turning towards her partner in crime.

“It is, huh?” he replied.  He threw an egg at the house again.  “So, what’s your name?”

“Why?”

“I’d like to know who I’m breaking the law with.”

She giggled.  “I’m Lucy.  And you are?”

“Natsu!  Nice to meet ya, Luigi!”

“It’s Lucy!”

“Yeah, yeah.  Lucy, Luigi, sounds the same to me.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Shut up.”  Grabbing another egg, she furrowed her brows as she threw it as hard as she could at the door.  It landed on the doorknob, bringing a grin to her face.  Next time Dan went to open his door, his hand would land on the slimy yolk.  “He deserves it.”

“So, why’re you egging this dude’s house?” Natsu asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Lucy shrugged.  “He deserves it.”

“What’d he do?”

“He’s my ex.  He cheated on me.”

“Oh.  Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Lucy replied, waving him off.  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed he cheated on me.  You shouldn’t cheat on anyone.  But we weren’t together that long so it doesn’t sting that much.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Natsu asked.

“Because the girl he cheated on me with is a girl I know from school.  She’s one of the sweetest girls I know, and once she found out he was cheating on the both of us, she was devastated.  Turns out they were together longer than we were, so her feelings ran pretty deep.  I’m doing this for her.  She didn’t ask me to, but the guy deserves it.”

“He sure does,” Natsu replied, throwing three eggs at once.  All of them landed on the window.  “You don’t think he’ll blame you for it if he calls the cops?”

“If he does, I’ll just tell them I saw you doing it.”

“Oi!  That’s just evil!”

“I’m kidding!” Lucy replied, followed by a soft giggle.  “Dan won’t go to the cops.  He hates them. Not to mention there are a lot of people that hate him, he won't be able to pin it on me.”

“Hope you’re right about that,” Natsu replied.  “I can’t afford a ticket, and I especially can’t afford goin’ to jail over a few eggs.”

A content silence fell over the two as they continued to throw eggs at the house.  Every crack against the wood frames made Lucy feel a little bit better.  She’d never been cheated on before now, but it wasn’t a good feeling, no matter how serious she was with Dan.  Revenge was sweet.

And enacting her plan of revenge with an interesting guy at her side was just extra icing on the cake.

“So, do you go to school?” Natsu asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, I go to Magnolia University,” she answered.

“Same here!  Whatcha majoring in?”

“Creative Writing.  What about you?”

“I’m a STEM major.”

“Seriously?”  Lucy turned towards him, her mouth parted wide.  “You don’t strike me as the type.”

“How so?” Natsu asked with a chuckle.

“Well, I just figured STEM majors are stuck studying all the time and not out breaking the law.”

“Ehh, well, studying’s not really my thing.  Breaking the law usually isn’t either, but dares and bets are.  I’m just really good at math and science, and my friend told me I should just get my major and then I’ll be able to get any job I want.”

“Sounds smart enough.”

“What about you?  You write stories?”

Warmth traveled to Lucy’s cheeks.  “Uhh, yeah.”

“You should let me read one!”

Lucy arched a brow.  Was he implying that he wanted to hang out after this whole fiasco?  Her blush deepened.  She wouldn’t oppose to that.  However…

“Nope.  My friend is going to be my first reader,” she said.  Picking up another egg, she aimed for a part of Dan’s house that hadn’t been marked yet.  “But if you want, I can lend you some other books that I like.”

“Nah,” Natsu replied with a shrug.  “I’m not really into reading.  I just wanted to read yours.”

Lucy was glad that it was dark out.  Otherwise, her tomato-red face would have been visible.  

“W-Well, too bad.”  She chucked another egg.  “So, what was that bet you lost anyways?”

Natsu snorted.  “I was at the pub with my friends- you know the one downtown, Fairy Tail?  I was there and my friend Gray dared me to get this one girl’s number.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged.  “Somethin’ about my eating habits disgusted her, so she turned me down.”

“Eating habits?” Lucy thought, trying to imagine someone with bad enough table manners that would prevent them from getting a date.  “I’m sorry you got turned down.”

“Ehh, I’m not,” he replied.  “I wouldn’t wanna go on a date just because of some bet anyways.  Especially with some random girl I don’t even know.”  He turned to her, and the only thing she could see beneath his hoodie was a wide grin.  “Thanks to me losin’ that bet, I got to meet you and end up egging this guy’s house!”

A bright smile spread across her face.  “Then I’m happy you lost.  Now I have a partner in crime.  Literally.”

“Yep!  How old is my partner in crime, by the way?”

“Twenty.  What about you?”

“Twenty-one.  Ha, I’m older!”

Lucy nudged him playfully.  “Don’t get so cocky, it’s only by one year.”

“Listen, kid-!”

Lucy slapped his arm.  “I’m not a kid!”

Natsu cackled, his mischievous laughter filling the air.  Lucy couldn’t help but join in, his laughter contagious.  It wasn’t too high, nor too low.  It was just right.

Talking to Natsu was easy.  Even though they knew next to nothing about each other, she felt like she had known him her whole life.  He was down-to-earth, funny, and had a personality that made her want to get to know him even better.

She hoped he would ask her out by the end of the night.

As Lucy was about to throw another egg, a blinding light appeared as a car turned the corner right next to them.  Squinting at the car, her stomach dropped to the ground as she recognized it to belong to a certain ex of hers.  

“Shit,” Lucy muttered.  “That’s Dan.”

“What!?” Natsu replied, whipping his head towards the car, in which a man started to climb out.  

“Who are you guys?” Dan asked, taking slow step towards them.  “Wait, are those eggs?  Are you egging my house?”

“What do we do?” Natsu whispered to her.

“It’s simple,” she replied.  “Run!”

Grabbing his hand, she made a dash towards the end of the street.  Turned out she could be a flight kind of person as long as she had someone with her. Her heart thrashed around in her chest, partly due to the warm hand locked with hers, but mainly because of the man that was chasing after them.  At least Dan wasn’t much of a runner.

“Where are we going?” Natsu asked.

“My car!  We’re getting the hell out of here!” she answered.  “There it is!”

Reaching the car, Lucy let go of his hand to go to the driver’s door.  She unlocked the car for them, sliding into her seat and locking the doors once Natsu was settled.  She could see Dan charging towards the car in the rearview mirror.  Her hands shook trying to jiggle the key into the ignition before Dan reached them, otherwise he would recognize her.  

“Uhh, feel free to speed it up!” Natsu exclaimed.

“I’m trying!  My hand won’t stop shaking!” she shot back.

Natsu groaned before taking her hand in his.  His large hand covered her smaller one, guiding it steadily towards the ignition.  Once it was in, she quickly turned  key, bringing the car to life.  

“Let’s go!” Lucy shouted, flooring it just as Dan reached the bumper.  The tires screeched across the pavement as the two made their escape.  As Dan’s form slowly started to disappear from the rearview mirror, a boisterous laugh slipped past her lips in excitement.  “We did it, Natsu!  We-!”  

Glancing over at the boy, she found him slouched over and giving hushed groans and occasional whimpers.  

“Natsu?” she asked, her voice laced in concern.  “What’s wrong?”

“Motion… sickness,” he answered, followed by another whimper.

Lucy blanched.  “Motion sickness?  Are you serious?”  He nodded. “That is the lamest thing I have ever heard.”

“Shut up.”

Lucy turned on the carlight to see how he was holding up.  Glancing over at him, she could see that his face was pale and dotted with sweat beneath his hood.  His cheeks were puffed out, a sign that he was going to throw up any second.

A shrill squeal escaped Lucy’s mouth as she shoved her hand against Natsu’s cheek and pushed him towards the window.

“Don’t throw up in my car!” she shouted.

Rolling down the window, she peeked at Natsu and watched as he stuck his head out the window.  His hood flew back in the wind, revealing pink tufts of hair.  Her eyes went wide, her mouth parting slightly.

“You have pink hair,” she said absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” Natsu grumbled in reply.  His voice was strained from his sickness.  “Probably another reason I got turned down for that date.  People aren’t really a fan.”

“I-I like it.”

“You do?” he asked, turning to look at her.

Lucy nodded, ignoring the blush rising to her cheeks.  “Pink is my favorite color.”

Natsu’s lips twitched upwards into a small smile.  “What about you?  I haven’t had the chance to get a good look at you yet. Are you bald or something?”

“Oh, right.  And no I'm not bald, idiot.”  Lucy brought her hand up to her hood before taking it off.  Natsu’s eyes went wide.  “Yeah, I’m just a blonde.”  She’d heard enough blonde jokes to last a lifetime.  She figured he might as well get them out now.

“Your hair isn’t just blonde.  It’s golden!”

She flushed, keeping her eyes on the road.  “Th-Thanks.  So, where do you live?  I need your address so I can drop you off.”

Natsu opened his mouth to reply when his eyes grew to the size of golf-balls.  Shoving his head out the window, he hurled what felt like all of his insides.  Lucy screamed.

“You actually barfed!  It’s illegal to throw up out of a car window while driving!” she cried.

“Well then…  that’s two illegal things we did tonight,” Natsu replied, his head hanging out the window.

“Forget it!  I’ll just bring you over to my place!”

“Wow, Luce.  Shouldn’t you at least ask me on a date first?”

“Don’t joke about dates after throwing up!”

They drove in a content silence until Natsu spoke next. 

“You know, I never finished my punishment for the bet,” he stated.

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked, peeking at him.

“I was supposed to egg the entire street, but we only got Dan’s.”

“Who cares?  I think egging one house is good enough!  I’m sure your friends will understand.”

“Nope.  They won’t.  Only way I can think of getting out of another punishment is managing to get a date like I was supposed to.”

Lucy glanced towards him.  “Oh?  With that girl from before?”

Natsu rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks starting to match his hair.  “I’m sure they’d accept any girl.  So, what do you say?  Wanna go on a date, Luce?”

Lucy’s cheeks were set ablaze.  “A-Are you serious?”

“Yeah of course.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I don’t want to go on a date just to get you out of your punishment.”

Natsu sighed, running a hand through his hair.  “Luuucy!  That was just my attempt to be smooth and you ruined it!  Of course that’s not why I’m asking you out, weirdo!”

“Oh.  Then yes!  I’d love to go on a date with you, Natsu.”

The two shared an eager grin.  Their night was crazy, to say the least.  To think that such a good thing could come out of getting cheated on and losing a bet made them think that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

#Fairy Tail #Nalu #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #Natsu x Lucy #nalugruviabigbang

[charmed-asylum]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 4

Summary: Finn Cox had everything boy would ever dream of a hot cheerleader girlfriend, loved by everyone, and caption of his hockey team. So why is since Camille Dawson step into his life he starts to have second thoughts about everything

FYI: 1st week back to school. This part is short. Ever hear the saying quite before the storm well. Get ready because it is about to be a class five hurricane  Lets CHAT Get tag or Whatnot. If you are new catch up :)

✨ The Partners: Ch.1/ Ch.2/ Ch. 3 

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑔𝑒𝒹: @weapinggwillowss @nottherightseason @strangerfictions  @thewolfswriting​ @hauntor 

                  ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

2014

The crowd called for him praising him like he was a god. Going nuts. It was the winter finale game they been undefeated all season and it was time. He rushed out to the ice and gave them a show skating around waving his hands up. He was only a freshman and on the varsity team for St. Cloud State University. He wears his black, red, and white with pride. Hockey his friends was his life and the girl of the week. Finn was the young man on the campus. It was his life. One he would never give up. 

The blood rushes down his forehead his mouth crunch harder onto the mouthpiece. He looks at his teammates as the captain told them the next play. It was Finn's big moment. It was up to him to get the point that could give them the win. BREAK He waited for tell. The bits of ice rush in his face as he rushed down to the goal. Fitting the enemy trying to steal his shine. As he took it he hit it in. The crowd scream in excitement. Others turn around to Finn on the ground screaming. Throwing the helmet off he screams as he tried to get up. Stumbling back down. Before blacking out he saw the scoreboard. THEY WON

FOUR MONTHS LATER 

He looked out at the gentle white snow. Hunch over missable. The doctor said it could be fixed but instead he was still wheeling himself around. ACL about gone damage due to years of playing. All his friends didn’t call him as much and he wasn’t getting much action like before. Him this smell room and his dad. 

“ Where you going anyway"  Finn said wheeling himself around following his dad. “I and a friend are going on our annual fishing trip. Every year I get one weekend Finn. To myself" dad said with a chuckle. Probably gonna share a tent with a dude and experiment “ You know I’m okay with that dude and dude stuff” Finn added trying to stop his dad. He turned to Finn and red face still chuckling. “ I ain't no... Finn, I’m gonna be on a big ass boat with rooms and shit that I don’t get here anymore. You know peace” dad said. Finn looks back at the phone ringing. Damn it. He wasn’t in the mood. Rolling back to his room he shut the door and watch his glory days.

It must have been months. No movement. Mad at the world. Unsure where everything when to Shit. Asking himself if there was a way out. Suddenly their movement out the doors of his room breaking him from his daily life is over. Finn was drench in the sour smell of beer stuck in bed. Slowly getting up he dragged his fingers to the door. Peeking out the door he sees his dad talking to someone. Could he be back yet from his trip Finn thought to himself? 

The voice has been popping in and out never a face. Yet it was a familiar voice. They were talking about everything including him. His father looks past the figure to Finn door. Rushing away from the door he rolls over and drops a big stack of trash. He quickly tries to fix everything and rush back to his bed. Full of pain. As he crouched over closing his eyes. He felt the light from the hallway hitting his back. A sweet perfume. Fresh. He tried to see if he could peek. But it was too dark. Soft whispers. Then a touch. One-touch. He could not resist so he slowly turned around to see the back of a girl. Who are you? 

Unable to sleep he kept thinking about the stranger with the sweet scent and soft touch. Dad was by the table looking at the yellow book. The last person he ever thought would be here but things had slowly changed in the past years. 

" Looks who up. Why are you out of the room. Need more painkillers. Use the crapper " dad asked with his reading glasses tip down. Finn smiles. "No, dad. Thought it finally time to come out. Test the waters. What are you doing" he says rolling next to him. He was in pain roll himself everywhere. " Think we should change doctors someone refers me to a better doctor. Also thinking therapy. They told me a good place. Next town. She always such a great big help" he says shaking his head hug grin on his face. Finn seeing his opening took it. "She. Do I know her" he asks grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl. 

Dad looks at Finn confuse then shakes his head yes. " Not supposed to tell you. Her words" he says getting up. Finn turns around to his dad. Who can it be? Rolling himself back and forth. "Come on. Tell me. I know her. Who an ex my old math teacher" he says. Making a cup of coffee dad shakes his head. " This is childish your childish. She has been always helping us and I can't even tell you. Because of you two history. Whatever that means. It's the Dawson girl. She has been lending a hand whenever I need it since your mom died" he replies and walks out the room with his coffee. Finn follows him to his bedroom cursing to himself as he pushes himself fast enough to catch up. " Dawson. You mean Camille Dawson. I haven't heard that name in years. What, why, huh" he starts to say. 

Dad looks at him and rolls his eyes. " She felt guilty about your mom. Something that wasn't her fault. Days after your mom's funeral she asks a favor for me. She talks to me to explain to me things. Help me see. Be better. Just simple things. Cook a few meals. You're favorite. Then after a while, she would check on us. When you got hurt sometimes she comes up a few weekends to help when I couldn’t. I should of drop kick you. Your mom was going to die and you know that. She asks to die that day. In peace. She saw we be fine. She saw that when you were with her. She saw how happy you could be. She was dying for a while but when she saw we could be ok. She let go into peace. She would be ashamed of you. Here. I told you what has been on my mind for a couple of years. Now I’m going to watch my sports and sleep" he said closing the door.

Finn was shocked. Lies, the truth. He tried not to think about her. It was like she was in a box that he put up away in the attic or at less that's what he wanted to believe. Rolling back and forth by the laptop trying to do something else. Keep the mind busy. "Fuck it". He spends hours checking up the years they last talk. The evolution after high school. The many pictures of her and friends, Will, and a boy who look just like him. She was at NYU. Now ending freshman year. Happy. She was happy. After that night he looks her page each night before he fell asleep.

There was a knock on his door. Is it her. The OxyContin must have been really working was it her or was he just imagine it. " Hey there. Stranger. Your dad out wanted me to check on you" she stops and fixing a few strings of his hair "you're going to make it" she says full of sympathy. Finn slowly opens his eyes. It was her sitting at the side of his bed silent.  Slowly getting up. " What are you doing here" he asks grabbing an old beer off his nightstand. She glances at him. That sweet smell. " Home for the break. Heard about you. Dad told me I should come by maybe help. How are you? Taking it easy. There was a lot of neighborhood talk about our rising star" she says opening an orange juice taking the beer out his hands and putting between her thighs. He said nothing just looks at her. She tents up and looks away. " Look. I don't judge or care. Just think you should know it's not over. You can walk again. Have the chance. Many dreams about that. You have friends and family. Supporting you I guess. Maybe even a child. Then again she always did cheat around even with people close to you" she stops and peaks back to him "In high school. Anyway. You give up and that's letting all those people win. You were always better at the buzzer. Your better then this Cox" she says and gets up to start to leave. He watches her. " How can you make it sound so simple. Get hurt right before my career can even start. My life was just starting. Life pretty much fucking over. Dawson" he spits out.

She turns around to him. "You been in here too long. In this room. Small four by four.  Going a little wallpaper crazy. That your funk is smelling better than your attitude. Looking like a nightly creature in the sunlight. Legs are going to work. Always practice gets better to get back in there for the second half. Maybe this is meant to be. Come back here. And think about what you want. At less think about it, not for you but your mom" she stops and brought his chair to the bed" Get in the chair. I am taking you for a short ride. Then you and your funk can come back and sit here and decay" she says looking at him. Her hands on her hips full of sass.

The ride was short. He was forced to go. Okay, ask very polity to wear blindfolds. After a while, she took them off. They were at the old oil mill. She locks his chair and starts to grab him out of it. For a small girl pushing 120 tops, she was strong. Helping him sit down on the ground. She sat next to him. Past them was lights then water. He never saw this spot before. It was actually beautiful even though it was dark. She glances at him then back at the view. " Only you. Cox. Only you. See out there. It's whatever you want. Nothing. Ok. Simply a joke to the town. Maybe a small job somewhere. Watch life pass by. You just in your chair rioting. Or change. Get past it. Get back and see pass those lights to the unending ocean whatever. It's up to you. Finn. I’m only here because your dad ask. And I would feel really guilty if I couldn't help. But I said yes" she says leaning back looking up at the stars.

He looks at her then at the view. Her phone begins to ring. Crap she mouths. She gradually finds her way up and answers it. She was gone for a few minutes. He turns around and watches her talking. Kicking the ground nodding her head. Coming back to him. She reaches out for his hands to go. Sitting down in the car. He looks at her. Then back away. " Thanks. For this. Tough love with a hint of kindness. Tomorrow would you come back. None of my friends come by plus my dad great but it is not the same" he said looking at her. She looks at him and starts to smile. Leaning she looks up at the stars. " I always wanted to travel adventure out from Alaska. On my own on my terms. Did with New York. Now. The phone call was from my school. Telling me I got in. Study abroad in Europe. For a year. I leave in a day. Back to New York. Have you ever went. Last I heard it was in your plan. Finn" she says. He looks away from her and shook his head no.  

She looks over, " You should. I love to show you. Give you the triangle experience" she says trying to cheer him up. Confused from what she meant he smiles at her. He begins to laugh. She hits him on the side. " Hey, it's a rare package Jimbo Finno. See first there the standard things to see. Which by the way to much for a day. I recommend the first time you should stay a week.  Then second is my favorite things that I personally think people should know about then you. I would do things I know you would personally like. Like. Going to Madison Square Garden for a game or ride by Long Island where this cool hockey exhibit is. The triangle experience" she says with jazz hands. Knock knock on the window. It was Finn's dad. She smiles and waves hi then talks to him a little. Getting out. He looks back at her. Watching him. "Hey. So you know things are going to get better. That place we went to was my place. I go there when I need new pear eyes. But now it can also be yours. You need it as bad or worst than me. Directions on your desk. A get a better gift if you will" she says. Once he got inside it was right on his desk. There was a note. From her. 

                         ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

After that night. That unaware needed to slap into reality finally hot him. Finn started to give in. Maybe it was the urgency of dad. The simplicity of if you don’t you shit together then I’m gonna kick you numb ass. He would mumble to Finn every time he resists. Probably it was the fact of the matter it was an old friend not his father no him. Or maybe was that first video blog Camille mail to Finn in a care package.

With the months going by Finn started to go to community college. Then on his off time working with his dad in the office or going to therapy. What care he was not getting from therapy he got from the random hookups he did every night. Becky Stephanie Val Renee Heather Melody and so on and so one. Till it got to the point he had to write the name on his hand. Even with all those girls he still found me himself after some fun in the sheets watching her vlog looking at her social media. Will and his dad were close so that gave him all the gossip on her outside of social media.

“ Hey, dad do you mind if I talk to you” Finn said clenching onto his crutches. He nods and motions to come in. He was on the phone with a client. Finn is their top player. “ Didn't see last night. Another night out” dad said looking at Finn. Playing on his crutches he nods yes. “ So what is it, son. You need a ride to therapy today. Day off” dad ask. Finn turns one of the pictures over and looks at it.  Everyone at his brother's high graduation. Before they even knew there was an actual name for what his mom had.

“ I have been thinking. You said some time ago. Dawson spoke to you help you understand. I want to know what it is” Finn said passing the picture back. Dad sat back and look at the picture. A tear slowly drips down his cheek. His dad was a proud man proud men don’t cry. He taught him that. He taught every one of them that. “ She told me what I need to know. She introduced me to the man you were. The man I made and the one I could have made if I continue the way I did. Even told me the husband the father I was. She then asked me what part I wanted. Dam girl had me crying like a newborn baby. I didn’t care for a word until I realized she was right. I called her that night again crying feel I failed. I was asked by your wife a stranger to look after all of you. That weekend Will invited me out on our trip. Who thought all I ever needed was a friend” dad said with a chuckle.

A young girl with strawberry curly hair walks up to Finn as he was laying by the country club pool. Peeking up he smiled. He gets up and follows her into a men's bathroom. “ God my girlfriends are gonna die when I tell them I road the Finn Cox” strawberry said fixing her hair. Finn put his pants back up and yawned. Wasn't best sure was not the worst he had. “ Or don’t waste your time. Berry” Finn said looking down at his phone. The girl sat behind him and kiss his neck. “ Why don’t you put this down and let me entertain you a bit longer” the girl said kissing him across his neck and shoulders. Still, on his phone, he stops a video. “ How do you think this would taste like” Finn said showing her the phone. There was a toasted bun with fresh fruit beside it. She tossed it away then continue to kiss him rubbing her hand across his thigh. Flustered he tossed her off and show her again. “ It looks like shit” the girl said ignored. He smirked. “ Actually it’s pretty good. Looks good though I think it’s a Scottish dish. Hey huh, you think you can cook this. All the girls I asked said they can’t” Finn said watching the video again. “ How many people you show this shit too” the girl asked. Scratching his nose. “ So that’s a no. You think any bakeries would have it.” Finn asked. Upset at his manor she slapped him across his cheek and walk off. He looks at himself one good time in the mirror. Damn not again 

By the time he got home, there was a package for his dad from Camille. Fascinated by what could be intakes it inside. Sitting on his couch he grabs his keys and opens the package. Inside was a letter to dad, Birthday card for him, and a signed Jersey with a video for Finn. Grabbing up the jersey he walks back to his room and closes the door. It was a New York Ranger jersey with all the players' signatures. Pulling it up he grabs a hanger and puts it up on his shelf. 

Hey Finn. So I know I was just checking in on you. Just heading back to the states. You might be down so I decided to surprise you with a limited edition preview of the triangle experience. So we are at the MSG where yes the Ranger playing Tampa Bay Lightning. Two of what World Wide Web has said is a good show. I am here with Will he came by for the weekend say hi. A great game was able to get the teams to sign the jerseys said you a cancer kid. Remember you can do what changes the world in a better way. Bye Finno 

Fin lay down across his bed rewatch the video once more. She didn’t have to do it and maybe she was doing it for dad. Anyway, this video gave him an idea of something that might help him his dad and others. 

Pulling up to the local Polar Ice Box Fin grab his papers and his good tie. He was hoping his classes and work would help today. Something important for once and not so selfish. They didn’t come right away which was good because he was able to practice. He got his bill of health and he wanted to hit the comeback with a bang. For you mommy

The idea was simply a place for boys and girls to learn to be healthy and play hockey. It came to him years ago but it didn’t hit him till that package. He talks about his dad and Will to get some people together to want to help start the program. While it didn’t become a franchise as he went in with. They agree to give it a chance. A chance was all he needed. Just one.

#the partners #writing #writblr #ya fiction #fan fiction #ya fic #fiction #romance #romantic #love story #short story #high school #college #hockey #coming of age #finn #camille #cox #dawson #love #teenage angst #fluff #teen fiction #jock #outsider #chicklit #life #finding your purpose

[beneaththetangles]

BtT Light Novel Club, Chapter 16: Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, Vol. 1!

Welcome to the first Light Novel Club discussion of 2020! Our discussion this month is on Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, Vol. 1, in which a gamer dares to take on the “game” of real life. We have quite the discussion for this title coming up, so strap yourself in and join @jeskaiangel and I for a deep dive not just into the story, but also what even is a “game” in the first place!

-----

1. What are your general impressions of the novel?

Jeskai Angel: My impression of the novel = Video games + Proverbs / Ecclesiastes + My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong as I Expected + Self-help booklet + Optimism.

stardf29: I’ve got nothing to add; you did the math on that perfectly.

2. What are your thoughts on the characters in the novel?

Jeskai Angel: As I observed Tomozaki, I strongly had the sense that I was watching an alternative version of Hachiman Hikigaya from a parallel universe. His opening monologue sounds every bit as cynical, jaded, and bitter as something Hiki would say. But, crucially, Hiki is actively resistant to changing and finds a sense of moral superiority in not “conforming.” Hiki’s story kicks off because his teacher tries to help him change for better, but (at least as of vol. 1) he begrudges this meddling in his life and resists every step of the way. The two parallel universes diverge because when NO NAME / Aoi also offers Tomozaki the chance to change, he willingly (albeit skeptically) embraces the opportunity. That difference lends the whole story a far more hopeful, optimistic tone than My Youth Romantic Comedy.

I could spend more time contrasting the other characters of this LN and My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong as I Expected, but I’ll spare you. Suffice it to say that I think the girls of both stories bear further comparison.

Aoi is an interesting twist on the “perfect girl” trope. First, one doesn’t commonly see that sort of character AND have them be an unapologetic hardcore gamer (you sometimes see the “perfect girl who’s secretly an otaku” figure, but not one like Aoi who displays no sense of shame about her nerdy hobby). The other thing that subverts the “perfect girl” trope is that we learn quickly that Aoi wasn’t always “perfect” and in fact works incredibly hard to maintain her sterling image. She’s not just magically perfect thanks to inherent natural awesomeness. I feel like the rest of the cast is well written, but they don’t necessarily stand out in any exceptional way. Hopefully they’ll get more chances to shine in the future.

stardf29: That’s a good compare and contrast between Tomozaki and Hachiman. Hachiman’s constant cynicism and the commentary that comes from that is entertaining in its own way, but as a character, I really like how Tomozaki actually tries to make more of real life, and he gets some cool moments out of it, such as when he stands up for Nakamura when other girls start trash-talking him. Oh, and he’s a gamer, too, which I guess earns him some extra cool points for me.

I definitely appreciate Aoi having had to work hard to become the “perfect girl”, for the reason you mentioned. What I also like about that aspect is that it has shades of the “secret of the popular girl” trope where the guy finds out the popular girl’s secret and they grow closer because of it, which I often enjoy.

The other side characters definitely interested me a lot. While they might not have a lot of development yet at just one volume in, they do have very strong base characterizations with their own motivations and don’t feel like one-dimensional tropes; I’m definitely looking forward to what role they play in future volumes.

3. What do you think about the various gaming references and the use of video games in the story?

Jeskai Angel: Am I right in thinking that Atafami is a coded reference to the Super Smash Bros. series? Between the name and some of the characters mentioned, I had a distinct suspicion that the story was making a nod toward a very specific real-life game/series. The rest of the gaming references that I recall were all more general nods to various tropes and common features of video games, things common enough that they didn’t require knowledge of any particular game to understand. I enjoyed the references and use of gaming concepts as metaphors for real life.

stardf29: Yes, Atafami is pretty clearly a mock-up of Smash Bros. (“Smash Brothers -> Attack Families”), with their own versions of Fox (“Foxy”) and Sheik (“Found”; this one took a while to figure out, but it’s pretty clever; “Sheik” sounds like “Seek”, especially with Japanese pronunciation, so you have “Seek” -> “Found”).

The whole thing is pretty amusing since I have some vague familiarity with the competitive Smash scene (though I’m not a competitive Smash player myself), so a lot of the portrayals of the whole gaming aspect of the story are just that much more interesting to me.

4. What do you think about the various “life tips” in the story?

Jeskai Angel: Ooh, yes! I have mixed feelings about the life tips. On the one hand, I think there’s some real truth to Aoi’s advice. I sort of wish someone had given me some of this advice back when I was in high school (of course, I was such a trainwreck at that point in my life that Aoi’s coaching wouldn’t have been nearly enough to help me).

On the other hand, sometimes Aoi’s view feels a little too much like self-made man-pull yourself up by your own bootstraps-rugged individualism. It paints this overly positive picture of how if you just work hard, your life will be great and everything will work out well. That’s how I used to think life worked (thanks, American culture), but then life proved me wrong. I think Tomozaki has a legitimate point when he says that life doesn’t always have a right answer, that trying hard doesn’t guarantee the desired outcome, and that some people have massive, unearned advantages over others. No matter how long and how hard you try, there’s no promise that you’ll get what you want out of life. Maybe Aoi’s perspective doesn’t go quite that far, but it treads close at times.

This tension, where each of the two leads has some valid points, is where my reference to Proverbs and Ecclesiastes above fits in. The book of Proverbs paints an extremely optimistic view of life: if you live according to wisdom, things will be great. And to be clear, it’s not entirely wrong. But then Ecclesiastes comes along and says not so fast: no matter how wise / rich / strong / whatever you are, bad things may still befall you. If nothing else, we’re all gonna die no matter what we do. I suspect that Ecclesiastes sometimes presents an unduly cynical outlook on life, and that things aren’t necessarily quite as bad as you might think if you only read Ecclesiastes. But Ecclesiastes also has a valid point that life isn’t as easy as you might think if you only read Proverbs.

stardf29: You bring up something that one could make an entire dissertation on: the conflict between “do everything you can to improve things” and “there are some things in life we cannot control”. Ideally, these two ideas would work together: we take action where we can, while giving the things we cannot control up to God. Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to lean too much into one direction or the other. Tomozaki’s initial stance is too much into “there’s too much I cannot control”, and he includes stuff he does actually have control over to improve his life. Aoi, on the flip side, is perhaps trying to take control over too much. I think it’s pretty telling how, in the final confrontation, she’s ultimately not able to do anything when things take an unexpected turn until well after the fact.

Overall, while I liked a lot of Aoi’s tips, I do have one notable gripe. The whole thing about getting Tomozaki a girlfriend is a bit weird but ultimately, not too bad. However, when she tried to get him to ask Fuka out over their supposed shared interest in a particular author, despite Tomozaki lying about said interest, that definitely rubbed me the wrong way. It felt like Aoi was telling him to do whatever it takes to “win” the game, even if it means lying and deceiving others. I’m glad he ultimately chose not to listen to her and tell the truth to Fuka, and it seems like they still have the chance for some development later.

Jeskai Angel: I had forgotten about the whole “lie about liking this book to get a girlfriend” incident until you brought it up. Yeah, I really appreciated that Tomozaki averted tons of rom-com tropes by taking the first opportunity to correct the misunderstanding, instead of creating an extended series of painfully awkward situations where he struggles to maintain the lie. I wonder…Aoi generally comes across in a fairly favorable light, but does this case hint at a darker side to her character?

You also make a really interesting point in framing the climactic defense-of-Nakamura scene in terms of Aoi being unable to do anything when the situation gets out of hand. It does seem to speak to her limitations.

stardf29: “Darker side” perhaps, but to the extent that every realistic person has some sinful tendencies to her; in her case, it’s a willingness to fudge the truth in order to do what she wants to get done. (If I may say, she seems to be very much a Type 3 on the Enneagram.)

Tomozaki laughs at your “Foxy only” rule.

5. How much do you agree with the idea that “life is a game”?

Jeskai Angel: So, Tomozaki and Aoi both accept from the outset that life is a game. They don’t debate whether life is a game, but rather whether it’s a good one or a bad one. Consequently, the book skips over a crucial question: what exactly is a “game?” It’s hard to say for sure whether life is a game, or how good of a game it is, if we don’t know what we mean when we say “game.” Certainly I can see validity to a lot of the book’s metaphors. There really are times when there are substantive parallels between real life and video games. But does the fact that life and games are sometimes similar justify going all the way to the point of saying life actually is a game in any meaningful sense? I’m not so sure. My gut says no. However, I would offer the caveat that I can imagine it’s possible to come up with a coherent definition of “game” for which real life would qualify.

stardf29: Oh boy, the “what is a game” question is another one that you could make a whole research paper on.

Maybe a game like Smash Bros isn’t the best metaphor for life… but what about a game like Animal Crossing or Harvest Moon? Those are games that break somewhat from the usual definition of a game, while still being classified as a game, and it’s a bit easier to see parallels with real life with those games.

But the key question here really does seem to be: What exactly is a “game”? Again, I could dive really deep into this topic, but for a basic definition, I like to think of games in four parts: player input, the “programming” which take those inputs and create results, the goals that players try to achieve, and the rules which are known to the players and help them make choices on their inputs. A game, therefore, is a situation where, given certain known rules, you decide on a goal or goals to achieve, and then make inputs and see what results the programming gives back; based on those results, you may either continue on with making inputs, or change one or more of your goals; you can even create a “game within a game” by setting a smaller goal and trying to achieve that goal first before returning back to your original goal.

For example, in, say, Super Mario Bros., your overarching goal is to reach the end and rescue the princess, which requires you to complete several sub-goals of completing the individual levels. Within the game, you are aware of the various rules of the game (move right, don’t touch enemies or fall into pits, collect power-ups for help) and then you start making your inputs to get Mario to the end.

Given this fairly wide-encompassing definition of a “game”, I think it’s possible to classify real life as a game. You have rules that are known and more or less govern what you can and cannot do (things like laws), and from there you decide on goals you want to accomplish, and then you make your “inputs” (a.k.a. personal choices) and then see what results come from the “programming” and adjust further goals/inputs accordingly. The only real difference here is that the “programming” is far more complex than what computers are (currently) limited to. That said, it’s not like there’s no “programming” whatsoever, since things like scientific laws exist. (The inputs of fellow humans may complicate things but lots of multiplayer games have that, so…)

In that sense, I can see how Aoi approaches the “game” of life. She tries to understand the rules as much as she cans, she has certain goals she wants to achieve, and she starts making “inputs” towards those goals. And as she starts accomplishing those goals, she gets the enjoyment of “winning” at the game (or at least that goal). If my approach to life differs from hers, it largely lies in having different goals from her to start with.

Now that I think about it, there is an important “fifth” part of a game: the positive feelings that come from “winning” the game, or rather, accomplishing goals within that game. It’s why we play games, after all. The exact nature of those “positive feelings” can vary depending on your goals, from the feeling of empowerment and domination after defeating a human opponent, to the sense of pride and accomplishment from getting 100% completion, to the satisfaction of the ending of a good story. And in real life, there’s definitely a good feeling from putting in effort, getting results, and fulfilling goals.

Jeskai Angel: I remembered this interesting column by game designer Mark Rosewater (https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/making-magic/what-game-2018-06-04). He defines a game as “a thing with a goal (or goals), restrictions, agency, and a lack of real-world relevance.” Your definition and his agree about the importance of input / agency, rules / restrictions, and goals (whether invented by the player or established by the designer). But you differ regarding the lack of real-world relevance. MaRo holds that having the purpose of entertainment or education, as opposed to practical necessity, is a fundamental part of what distinguishes games from real life.

stardf29: That’s a great article overall, and if I combine “rules” and “mechanics” into “limitations” I would mostly agree with it… but I definitely disagree about games needing to be “separate” from real life. It feels like a meaningless distinction; if I want to make a game out of cleaning my apartment or something, I don’t see how the real-life application somehow makes it not a game.

Instead, I would replace that “lack of real-life relevancy” with that last element I mentioned: the explicit pursuit of the positive feelings that come from achieving the goals. The reason most people don’t, to use the example in the article, consider packing for a trip as a “game” is that they simply have no desire to experience the pleasure of figuring out how to optimize packing; they just want to get the job done. However, someone might decide that, yes, they’re going to figure out the optimal arrangement for their packing, and then, after getting everything into the optimal arrangement, relish in the rush of having solved the puzzle.

In a way, then, what makes something a “game” is, in part, mentally thinking of it as a game–that a game is whatever you want to be a game (as long as goals, restrictions, and agency are also in play). And this is likely what helped Aoi be so successful: she chose to view several parts of life as “games” where others just saw it as “just life”. And Tomozaki has now adapted that mindset too. Now, I do think there are times where it’s best not to think of real life as a “game”; the example of a pilot flying a real plane is probably one of those times. (Though if the threat of death makes something not a game, I guess the Aincrad part of Sword Art Online isn’t a game…) That said, there may very well be several times in real life when thinking of something as a game may be just what gives someone that motivational kick to get something done, so… perhaps, at the very least, it’s worth consideration.

Jeskai Angel: Hmm… It occurs to me that babies and children learn through play. It seems that God has hardwired us to learn about the world through play-type behavior. And if play is fundamental to us from the earliest stages of development, perhaps the idea of life as a whole being a game has more validity than I’m giving it credit for.

Final Thoughts

Jeskai Angel: In the opening monologue, Tomozaki says this:

“Since ancient times, tons of brilliant scientists have been conducting experiments to search for a Law of Everything that explains the rules of our world. They still haven’t found it. Since ancient times, tons of brilliant philosophers have been wrapping ideas up in logic trying to figure out the meaning of life—in other words, life’s concept.”

This is where I’d raise my hand and say that Christianity has an answer to this question. The “Law of Everything,” the basis of all the rules in our world, the source that connects everything else, is Jesus. That’s what John 1.1 is getting at when it describes Jesus as the Logos. All the rules are established and upheld by him. And of course life’s “concept” is to know and love God.

Jeskai Angel: On a couple of occasions, one character criticizes another (first Tomozaki to Nakamura, then Aoi to Tomozaki) for dismissing a pleasure they’d never experienced as boring or meaningless. This is really quite profound. It was super relatable when Aoi calls out Tomozaki on this, because I have done the same thing. I can easily come up with examples from my own life where, because I didn’t have opportunity to enjoy something, I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t really all that great anyway, that I didn’t really want or need it, and so it was fine if I didn’t have it. At least in some of these cases, I’ve realized later that maybe that thing was more valuable than I’d been willing to admit while I was coping by lying to myself. The story was a good reminder about the need to be honest with ourselves.

stardf29: Yep, that’s the good ol’ sour grapes fable (the fox who can’t reach the grapes decides they must be sour). And yes, it’s best to be honest with yourself, or at the very least, don’t put down others who do have things/experiences you don’t have.

Jeskai Angel: Looking back, I realized it’s kind of cool the way the story building up Aoi to be so amazing actually serves to increase my respect for Tomozaki as a gamer. Here’s this girl who, much like Mary Poppins, is practically perfect in every way. Whether in beauty or academics or athleticism or popularity or whatever, she is unsurpassed thanks to her combination of talent and incredible hard work. And then you tell me that in one respect, she gets totally outclassed by someone else, despite putting forth the same hard work at Atafami as she did to reach the pinnacle in every other area of life. And it really starts to sink in just how insanely skilled Tomozaki must be to be able to capable of trouncing her as he does.

stardf29: Honestly, having seen how insane top-tier Smash Bros. play is, I’m more impressed with Aoi being able to even basically become the second-best player in Japan in the first place, especially with everything else she’s doing for real life as well. They do go a bit into how she does it (she purposely gets into disadvantageous situations to learn how to get out of them, sacrificing her immediate win-rate for long-term improvement), but even then, getting to the top ranks is no easy feat and it shows how dedicated she really is. And, of course, Tomozaki himself is impressive for being able to beat her regardless, though I guess since I’m familiar with top-tier Smash players, it’s pretty easy to picture how good he is (or at least as easy as looking up some YouTube videos).

=====

What do you think about Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, Vol. 1? What do you think counts as a “game”? Share your opinion in the comments!

As a reminder, on February 21st, we will be covering Vol. 3 of Infinite Dendrogram, so if you plan on joining us for that and haven’t finished it yet, get to reading!

#Light Novels #Bottom Tier Character Tomozaki #Jaku Chara Tomozaki kun #Christianity #BtT Light Novel Club #Articles #Author: stardf29 #Author: JeskaiAngel

[palettepainter]

Name: Chloe  Nicknames: Blue  Gender: Female  Occupation: Angel in training/keeper of heavens hound  Demon type/species: Angel of Generosity Likes: French culture, doves, feathers, harp music, dogs, cats and birds, her brother, Nathanial, having a little adventure, the colour blue  Dislikes: being seen as a 'damsel in distress', being babied (unless its from Jokey), thunder, strict rules, knifes and any kind of sharp object Died in: 2012 Former life: Chloe had always been seen as the golden child of the family, she followed the rules, had good grades, was polite - the perfect package! Herself and her fraternal twin Jokey where very close as children, Jokey often encouraged her to be a tad rebellious and Chloe, although hesitant to break rules, eagerly ends up enjoying these adventures with her brother. After her brother is kicked out onto the street Chloe is devastated and alone, her parents thought he was a bad influence on Chloe as well as being a highly troublesome boy. Her parents send Chloe away to France to a private school for girls where she was educated in higher tier math and science. Chloe, being raised in a small town in the country side even though her family tree does have some French heritage, is wondered by French culture but is heavily outlasted by the more aristocratic girls at the school. Herself and Jokey keep in contact view letters and calls over the phone, until she learns of her brothers shocking death. Her grades begin to crumble and the pressure to become a independent, smart young lady like her parents want her to be is too much for her in the state she's in. Chloe committed suicide by taking a knife to her throat, she has a scare there to this day, hence why she often wears anything to cover her neck. Powers: Generosity - always willing to lend a hand and shower her loved ones with gifts, singing and playing various instruments, speaking French, taking care of heavens hound that guards the gates to the kingdom (I haven't given the dog that guards heaven a name yet, any name suggestions are welcome) General bio: Very calm and level headed compared to her brother Jokey, Chloe is the younger twin (by 10 minutes) and is much less energetic then her zany brother. She adores French culture as her fashion style may suggest, but she's very open minded to other fashion styles and cultures. Also unlike her brother, Chloe leans towards the more French side of the family tree - Jokey and Chole have family heritage within their family tree, but Chloe seems to have taken much more after their French ancestors. She has a slight French accent and, when particularly excited or angry, she'll sometimes speak in French. Due to her strict uprising Chloe hates being called a damsel in distress and loathes being babied (unless its by Jokey or particularly close friends), she is much more likely to loose her temper with someone unlike Jokey. Although she sometimes struggles to stand up for herself she will have no diddly darn trouble of punching someone's lights out if they mess with her family - however, being a lady, Chloe must as least try and resolve things civilly before she starts throwing punches - she learnt marshal arts when she went away to France. Like her brother she is very accepting of people within the LGBT community and Jokey will allow her to do his nails and braid his hair if he's feeling more feminine (yes Jokey does have hair under his hat). Chloe's hobbies include singing and playing music as well as taking care of the heaven hound that guards the gates to the kingdom - she's very reliable but she possibly worries a little too much. Due to the way she died Chloe is scared SHITLESS OF KNIFES and any other sharp weapon like object. Because of her deep phobia of knifes Chloe has been trained to more rather avoid getting hurt by an attack and basic combat fighting. Relationships: Her relationship with her parents gradually began to fall apart after her brothers death, she hardly spoke to them when she was at the private school for girls and after a while she just stopped talking to them all together. She's unsure how to feel about her parents, she has a whirlpool of different emotions about them, so when the topic of them is brought up she often becomes hostile and lashes out. Is very close to her brother Jokey, but gets slightly annoyed when Jokey brings up that he's the oldest, he's only older by 10 minutes! Jokey is one of the only people that can baby her and call her silly nicknames, its all in good sibling fun. Jokey teaches Chloe to be a little adventurous every now and then, and Chloe often enjoys these adventures! Life at the private school for girls was soooooo boring! Jokey is kinda surprised and shocked when he finds his little innocent sweet baby sister sky diving off a cloud and play fighting with heavens hound - which could easily swallow Chloe is one god damn bite! Chloe gets very excited when she does something daring and possibly dangerous, and Jokey often stands there silently screaming and sweating. They get along well and its rare that the two fight, Chloe has no trouble standing up for her brother and vise versa. Adores Willem, loves his pretty blue hair and gorgeous blue wings, Willem is trying to teach Chloe how to relax and not worry so much, Chloe is not sure how to relax so to speak since her parents didn't approve of her or Jokey being lazy, so she sorta just sits there stiff as a plank of wood mentally worrying if she's relaxing right. However if Willem EVER hurt her brothers heart Chloe has promised Willem that she will forcefully rip of tail and shove it down his throat, Willem was...pretty terrified at the time, but Chloe's learnt that Willem is (far too lazy to cheat on her brother) far too loyal to cheat on her brother. Is gal pals with Claire, the two geek out over books, stress out over stupid things and play music together. Chloe often gives Claire French themed hairstyles which Claire ends up loving! Chloe also educates Claire on more modern day technology since Claire is stupidly oblivious to everything modern, Chloe and Claire often bond over learning how to play the harp - the two are pretty bad and clutzy right now, but they have fun! Chloe loves all types of creatures, she is very fond of doves, dogs and cats! She's an animal lover. She spoils the ever loving crap out of Yin and Yang! She excitedly gives them a ball of yarn and watches them play with it, allows the two of them to curl up under her wings and they allow her to pet them.  Has a honking crush on Nathanial and is 110% completely clueless on how to go about it. She gets all flustered and red faced when she's asked about, mostly from Willem who's picked up on the looks she gives him. She finds Nathanial to be very interesting, his temper more so then anything, when she was little she was never allowed to express such levels of rage in her household - and his control over fire is so fascinating! Also she's obsessed with his gorgeous golden wings (and may want to snuggle under one of them because they look so soft). She has yet to figure out how to go about expressing her affections for him, she knows Nathanial doesn't like overly girly things so she assumes he wouldn't like the stereotypical roses and chocolates thing - for now she simply tries to hang out with him as much as she can to try and get closer to him, she finds his company a nice presence and his temper brings her even more thrill to her life! How exciting!! Nathanial - @cosmic-artzz Jokey/Willem/Heaven hound/Yin/Yang - me

#HHOC #Angel OC #My OC #Chloe #Jokey's younger twin #Palettes art

[sariahsue]

What Will You Do When Everyone Knows? Chapter 2

Ladybug and Cat Noir are having trouble with the newest akuma.  She’s dressed all in black, hardly speaks, and keeps slipping through their fingers.  To make things worse, she exposes Ladybug’s identity to the world.  Which should Marinette be more concerned about?  The world’s reaction, or her partner’s?  

Rated PG for action.  Chapter word count: 1,100.

Read chapter 1 here.

    Sunday dawned overcast, and it didn't make Marinette feel any better. Without waking Tikki, who was nestled next to her head, she crept down her ladder and turned on her computer. No news. How could there be no news? Maybe Hawk Moth had called back his akuma, thinking that the woman had failed.

    "Anything?" came Tikki's high voice. So much for letting the kwami sleep. Marinette closed the browser and headed toward the bathroom.

    "No, but I haven't checked the Ladyblog yet. I'm going to walk around and look for her." She still felt the pinpricks of unease and rubbed a hand over her heart, hoping that would get rid of the sensation. It didn't.

    "I'm sure Alya's found something out by now," Tikki said. "A walk sounds like a nice idea, but you should probably study."

    "Yeah..." Marinette guiltily closed the bathroom door, shutting out Tikki's disapproving pout.

    In the end, they settled on a compromise. They went on the walk, but Marinette had to drag her math book along. The thing was heavy. Instead of cracking it open when she found a park bench to sit on, she pulled out her phone. Good thing Tikki had to hide and couldn't scold her.

    Alya had updated the blog. At 1:00 that morning.

    "Crazy girl," she said with a smile.

    The woman's name was Chantal Renard, 18 years old, and she was still missing. She'd had an argument with her boyfriend yesterday morning, but he claimed he had no idea why she'd been akumatized or what the item could be. Of course not. Alya reported he knew more than he was sharing; Marinette was inclined to agree. Maybe he'd talk to Ladybug about it?

    She should get on that right away, like right now. Math could wait, but Paris' safety really shouldn't. And she couldn't transform with a textbook again, so she'd have to drop it off back home. What a shame. A clap of thunder and a few raindrops signaled the end of her walk, anyway.

    She put the phone away to keep it dry and stood up. A dozen or so people had come to the park to enjoy the warm weather, but they started scattering to look for cover as the raindrops became fatter and came faster. Marinette turned to go home when she had the eerie sensation that she was being watched. No one in the park was looking at her. She was close enough to the street to see that the people at the crosswalk weren't paying any attention to her either. She spun in a circle, completely alone, but the feeling didn't go away.

    This whole thing is just messing with me. She'd go find Chantal's boyfriend, wring him dry for information, and then go home and design something. That would help clear her head.

    By the time she left the park and was across the street, the shower had become a full-blown storm, and she had to resort to using the book for an umbrella. Well, at least she hadn't dragged it all the way out there for no reason, though she couldn't help but wish a certain someone would magically appear to lend her his umbrella again. She blushed and tried – and failed – not to smile like an idiot.

    Okay. What was the boyfriend's name again? Alya would probably give her his address if she asked. Now, how could she phrase the question to avoid suspicion? She fished out her phone, keeping it close to her face under the book-umbrella, and tried not to walk into anyone. She was mostly successful, though she did manage to walk into a wall.

    Just as she was about to hit send, her screen turned black. Had the phone died? But no, a face appeared, pale with black eyes and black hair. "Hello, Paris," she said. Her voice was loud and as expressionless as her face. "I have a message for you."

    Marinette stopped. The voice echoed as it spoke from every phone around her. People pulled out their devices. The rain beat on her harder and dripped off the book.

    "Ladybug's identity has remained a secret for too long. Her real name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

    "No." Her voice was barely a whisper. Her heartbeat was in her throat. So that's what she took. Information. She took my name!

    She'd hide for a few weeks. She'd change her name... her parents... she'd...

    But the woman in black wasn't done. Marinette's most recent school picture flashed on the screen, happy and smiling. Rain trickled down the back of her neck, but it couldn't make her any colder than she already was. If she could melt into a puddle right now, she would. The screen finally went black, but Marinette kept staring at it. This couldn't have been real, right? She was having a nightmare.

    The other people on the street were looking at her.

    "Hey," said an older woman. She gestured to her phone. "Are you-"

    Marinette ran.

    Behind her, the woman called for her to come back, but she turned a corner and pushed herself to go faster. She had to get home.

    I'm not Ladybug.

    Her bag thumped on her hip and she quickly snatched it up, giving Tikki a breathless apology.

    I'm running home. Would the real Ladybug be running at a time like this? No. She'd be using her superpowers. I'm not Ladybug.

    Her phone rang. She didn't answer.

    I have to beat Hawk Moth to my house, because he can't hurt my family, because I swear I'm not Ladybug!

    She ignored several pings of incoming text messages. A few people honked at her, and one pulled over and started to open their door, but she ducked down a side street before the driver could speak.

    Within minutes, she saw the dark windows of the bakery. They must have closed early. Their street was empty. The door was locked. Why weren't reporters swarming her house? Was it a trap?

    She opened her purse, reaching for the keys, and felt Tikki's soft paw rest gently on her knuckle. The kwami looked almost mournful. The keys jangled in Marinette's trembling hands as she unlocked the door. The house was quiet.

    "Maman?! Papa?!"

    "Up here, sweetheart," her mother called. She sounded calm. Is it a trap? Are they disappointed with me?

    She barreled up the stairs, trying to drown out her fears, and threw open the living room door.

    There on the couch were her parents, and between them sat a figure dressed completely in black, waving at her. His mouth was full, and he was positively beaming at her.

Read chapter 3 here.

#miraculous #reveal #fanfiction #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #tikki #half-reveal #akuma #multi-chapter

[kainna15]

Lend Me Your Sanity

https://www.fanfiction.net/~kainna15

Chapter 4

Jasper waited eagerly in Chemistry Lab for Scarlett, unsettled by how long it was taking her. Alice had promised him she would deliver him his mate on time to their last class together. Math was a blissful blur to him, watching Scarlett out of the corner of his eyes taking notes and doing classwork was a mundane joy he was glad to experience. She wasn’t lying when she said she found math fun, she seemed enthralled in her work and from what he could tell she seemed to excel in it. All too soon calculus ended and he found Alice whisking away Scarlett to gym and promising to walk her to Chemistry afterwards as well. He had to admit to himself, he was childishly mad that she stole his time with Scarlett. It should be him walking her to class after all. Now he was sat at his chemistry table, staring at the door in hopes of catching sight of auburn hair. Almost as if God heard him, he saw Scarlett being ushered into the classroom with Emmett not to gently pushing her while Alice giggled at the doorway at their antics.

Jasper bristled at the sight of another male touching her, his instincts screamed at him to show the other male who exactly the alpha was. With slow breathes he managed to calm himself down, it was only Emmett and he was pushing her to his table anyways.

“Go sit next to Jasper, Ms. Faye doesn’t care about the seating arrangement.” He heard Emmett whisper to Scarlett as she hesitated in coming over to him. Jasper felt her anxiety spike up although she calmly took the seat next to him and playfully glared at Emmett as he rushed out of the classroom.

“You know, he’s right.” Jasper addressed Scarlett as she started to slowly pull out her notebook and pen. Jasper caught sight of her beautiful eyes watching him and he quickly continued with what he was saying. “We can sit wherever we want, even on lab days.” He smiled at her as if he were telling her a secret. “She doesn’t really care about anything.” He whispered as the teacher he was speaking about walked into the classroom.

“Really?” Scarlett replied before taking a careful look at him. “I actually wasn’t sure if you would want me to sit by you.” She admitted softly, breaking eye contact with him quickly as Ms. Faye started speaking.

“Scarlett welcome to Forks! I hope you enjoy your senior year here.” Ms. Faye’s greeting was short and sweet and all Scarlett did was reply politely before class continued.

“Why would I mind if you sat next to me?” Jasper asked in a hushed tone as Ms. Faye started to draw molecules on the board. Scarlett, who could list endless reasons why Jasper wouldn’t want to sit next to her, simply shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip. “You can sit next to me whenever you want, I won’t mind.” Jasper whispered this last comment before returning his attention back to the teacher. He could continue talking but figured getting her in trouble the first day might not be the best choice, they did sit in the front row after all. Jasper was delighted in feeling her emotions take a positive turn. A glance out of the corner of his eye showed a shy yet pleased smile on her lips and his ego swelled in knowing he caused that. Taking an unnecessary deep breath -fuck she smelled good- and swallowing the venom that pooled in his mouth because of it, he settled in his seat at an angle that would provide him with view of her and the board.

He watched Scarlett throughout class while he half-assed taking notes, only to make it seem as if he were actually paying attention. He watched as she drew molecules, much better than Ms. Faye was doing, and highlighted key words with multiple colors so by the time class ended, her notes looked more like a study guide than class notes. Scarlett noticed Jasper staring at her notes and a sheepish smile came to her lips while she tucked them away in her bag.

“Chemistry is my worst subject, if I don’t study hard I’ll fail.” Scarlett’s admittance brought back memories of New Jersey, sitting in her room for hours alone with only her homework for company. She honestly wasn’t that smart, sure certain subjects she excelled in naturally; like Math, but she received good grades from the rest of her classes simply from studying. Even French, although fluent now in it, she had to practice speaking for hours to perfect the accent. She wasn’t smart, she was trained. What else could she have done to entertain herself back home when her friends were all scared away by her mother?

“I could always tutor you if you need it.” Jasper hurried out the question, desperate to have some time with her after school hours. Scarlett hesitated, she was used to saying no. No you can’t come over, my mom doesn’t want anybody over. No, I can’t stay after school I have to be home. No, I can’t go out to eat, my mother won’t let me. But, her mother wasn’t here anymore.

“Sure, I’ll let you know when I’m panicking about my grade.” Scarlett joked instead, hoping her hesitation wasn’t heard in her voice. She tried to control the blush on her checks, hoping that she would eventually stop blushing everytime this handsome boy asked her something.

“Well, let me know.” Although the blush on her face appeased his masculine pride, he still hoped she would agree soon. He had no choice but to settle with her answer and instead of letting the disappointment take over, grabbed her bag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder.

“I’ll walk you to your locker.” He instead insisted and lead her out of the classroom, his hand hovering over the small of her back. Jasper would soon prove to her how stubborn he could be about carrying her bag and she was left walking next to him, awkwardly silent as she searched for something to say. Glances every so often at each other soon turned into a accidental eye contact. Blushing from being caught, Scarlett cleared her throat in search of something to say. Jasper’s triumphant smirk was lost to her as she looked anywhere but at him.

“Are you happy to be back?” Jasper spoke instead and watched curiously as her beautiful eyes turned to up in thought.

“I always knew-“ She began softly as she searched for the right words. “That a place didn’t really matter to me, it’s who I’m with. So yes, I am

happy being back here with my father again. But honestly, Forks is just the background to me.” Scarlett finished with a cheeky smile. Jasper felt warm when she spoke, the idea that she valued people over anything else impressed him and left him hoping that someday she would be able to feel that way about him.

“Well I’m glad you’re happy to be here at least. Forks is a little more boring than you would think.” Scarlett reached her locker then, searching in her pocket for the slip of paper containing her combination. Finding it, she put in the combination, ignorant to Jasper’s stare as he quickly remembered it for future reference. He handed over her bag with a charming smile that made her heart stutter and face ignite. Jasper’s grin widened, his eyes never strayed from her face as she exchanged her books and slammed her locker shut.

Jasper then walked her outside to the student parking lot, all the while they stayed at an awkward silence. Jasper; who was too busy staring at the poor girl, didn't realize her discomfort. His eyes studied her every movement and his mind was lost in thought as he watched her run her hand through her hair nervously.

“Um-Thanks for walking me.” Scarlett managed to finally say. Jasper broke out of his thoughts, the grin that seemed to play on his face all day grew wide.

“My pleasure.” His southern twang came out making Scarlett’s heart race with affection.

“Scarlett!” A familiar voice called her from the parking lot. Jasper and Scarlett’s head snapped up at the call, Jasper more so since another male was calling her.

“Dad!” Scarlett exclaimed once she saw her father waving her down a few cars over. Some of the other students snickered at the scene, finding it embarrassing that the new girl’s father came to pick her up from school. Yet, for the first time in a while Scarlett didn’t care. She was delighted that her father surprised her and Jasper was simply happy her mood took a turn.

“I got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” Scarlett spoke quickly to Jasper, placing her hand lightly on his forearm and sending him an apologetic smile. Jasper could only nod. The feeling of her warm hand touching him sent his senses into overdrive, her scent invaded him again and it took all his power not to pull her to him and never let go. All too quickly her hand was gone and so was she, running off to the only other male that Jasper would ever be comfortable with taking her attention.

“See you tomorrow.” He whispered, watching as she unabashedly jumped into her father’s arms for a quick hug. They spoke quickly about getting a bite to eat before getting into their separate cars and leaving. Jasper stood where she left him, his forearm still burning from her touch.

#jasper cullen #jasper #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper x oc #oc #twilight #twilight saga #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction.net #romance #romantic #stories #story #Novel #edward cullen #love #love story