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âShould we go?â the man asked.
For a second, standing on the pavement, Elizabeth considered the hypothesis of not seeing him again; and a yes flew from her mouth, followed by the flutter of dozens of butterflies in her stomach.
Beaming, Hamid asked the driver to place her suitcase in the trunk and opened the door for her. Without uttering a word, she followed his lead and adjusted herself on the backseat. Her arms tight around the backpack, as her fingers fidgeted with a silver Eiffel Tower keychain hanging from the zipper.
Even though the space between them could fit another person, the scent of Hamidâs perfume travelled to her nose â a fresh and citrusy aroma that somehow reminded her of the sea. Her eyes, like pulled by a magnet, found his, which were on her face and moved from her eyes to her lips. Immediately her gaze lowered to the metal trinket her fingers were grazing on.
Stop being such a dork! Heâs just a guy! Gorgeous and with intense eyes and a nice smile, but a guy.
Coltâs eyes were starting to gloss over as his fingers clicked repeatedly on the mouse. Everyone was gone, out for happy hour, while he manned the reception desk at the garage.
He clicked a submit button and rolled his eyes. According to ClickIt, his soul was âstuck in the 80sâ based on his breakfast preferences and what mystical creature heâd invite to dinner. Damnit, he was so bored. And he was going to fire Dylan for saying he couldnât come in that afternoon because he was âstudying for the SATsâ.
The cranking, rolling sound of the garage door opening provided sweet relief, saving him from wanting to gouge his own eyes out. Better yet, he heard that familiar giggle that tugged at his lips and made him grin.
Ellie was tipsy. Maybe drunk. Definitely tipsy.
Leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet up on the desk and waited for her to come to the lobby. She thought she was stealthy but her heavy footsteps showed otherwise. âPssst.â A sharp whisper came from behind the window. âMr. Kaneko??â The whisper was louder, more shop.
âYou can come in.â He replied. Covering her mouth not to laugh, she tried to tiptoe in without laughing. Her tan cheeks were flushed, complimenting her perfect teeth with that perfect smile. Her hands smoothed down her mussed braid. âHow can I be of service, Ms. Wheeler?â
âI have an announcement.â Ellie stood tall, proud, hands on her hips. Colt, more amused, gestured for her to continue. âWait. Itâs a bit one.â
His eyes slightly widened as she charged towards his desk and jumped, landing not so graciously on top. âEllie - get down from there.â He gently chided, not actually wanting her to step down. Curiousty got the better of him.
Ellie shook her head. Her smile widened. âI, Ellie Wheeler. Love.â Another giggle. âLove you, Colton Kaneko.â
It wasnât the first time she said it and it wasnât going to be the last time she said it. But hearing her say that? In her tipsy state? Loud enough for everyone to hear? Colt let out a deep breath, trying to stay composed, tried not to laugh. That was the best thing she could ever say. And heâd never felt such warmth in his heart. He loved the fuck out of that woman.
âGet down from there, Ellie. I donât want to rush you to the ER or anything.â She laughed and crouched onto the desk to get off.
Standing up, he grabbed her waist and lifted her off the desk, setting her down in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him, eyes taking a moment to focus on his.
He could smell the alcohol in the air between them. Knowing Ellie, she had one Long Island Iced Tea and a Screwdriver. Leaning in to capture her lips with his in a deep kiss, he could taste the orange juice on her tongue.
Eventually, they pulled apart and he rested his forehead on hers. âI love you, Ellie Wheeler.â She hummed a happy hum and hugged him tighter. âIâm going to make some coffee and get some water. Sober you up.â
A/N1: This is part of my âLike the French doâ series. Â It is the follow up to Droit du Seigneur and Pas de trois parts 1, 2, 3 and 4. A few of Bradshaw and Margueriteâs lines are straight from canon. If you click on the read more you are agreeing to read NSFW material.
A/N2: Thank you to my dear friend @riseandshinelittleblossom for pre-reading. Thank you to @carmiine for the amazing artwork below.
Pas de Trois (Part 5)
âWow.â
Riley canât help but blush at her husbandâs appraisal. âYou like?â she asks, twirling a little so he can see the train of her dress.
âI love.â Maxwell swallows heavily. âYouâre going to be all anyone can look at, little blossom.â
He runs a hand along her face and she feels her cheeks redden. How can she act like nothing has changed after what sheâs done?
Summary:Â Â The Pend Pals are bonding during a post-party come-down. When attuneless customs/myths are brought into conversation, MC (Jay) has trouble explaining some of her past exploits.Â
Pairing: N/A. Suggested Beckett x MC and Shreya x MC.
Length: 1,609
Warnings: Mentions of non-character deaths, including child murder. Not detailed, just a vague reference in relation to urban myths.
Note: A late entry for the Choices September Challenge (@ramseyandrys and @choicesseptemberchallenge). Day 2 prompt: âMisunderstandingâ.
Bloody Mary
 They had tired themselves out with snacks and dancing. With the fire dying down and the night growing darker, the Pend Pals had fallen into a loose circle, sprawled on and against various chairs. Even the decorations were flagging; the balloons sagging sluggishly and the streamers and bunting lying listless against the walls.
âDo attuneless have parties like this?â Aster asked. She was lounging next to Jay on the couch, her head resting against the cushions. Although quiet, her enquiry gains everyoneâs attention, and the other conversations taper off.
Feeling on the spot, Jay hesitates. It was like this sometimes, when they all looked to her like she had the answers. It often made Jay feel like an attuneless tour guide, leaving her wishing for a blazer and a clipboard. Until she realised the teasing, she would receive for dressing like Beckett.
Clearing her throat, Jay sits up a little straighter. âWell, thereâs parties, obviously. And theyâre not NOT like this,â she explains, her hand coming up to wave vaguely at the room around them. âThereâs just less, interactive food and, wellâŠ. magic, I guess.â Trailing off, she shrugs, not knowing what to say.
âYou mean theyâre just like us!â Atlas mocks, her eyes comically wide as her hand comes up dramatically to rest against her breast.
Rolling her eyes, Jay half-heartedly throws a cushion at her sister while the others laugh. Of course, Atlas effortlessly blocks it with a lazily raised arm, sending it spiralling uselessly behind her with a satisfied smirk.
Still laughing, Griffin joins in the questioning. âSo, if thereâs no magic, what did you do for entertainment?â
Jay pauses a sly smile on her face as memories from past partyâs flash through her mind like a montage of mostly dumbass behaviour. âIt depends on the party,â she answers teasingly. Her gaze flickers between Shreya and Beckett. Beckett flushes almost immediately and looks away when her meaning becomes clear, but Shreya holds steady, her expression defiant despite the tinge to her cheeks.
Clearing his throat, Griffin gains Jayâs attention, and she turns to face him, swallowing hard. âSeriously though, it canât all have been music and dancing. What about party games?â
âOh, yes!â Aster proclaims. âI love games! What about when you were younger? What party games did you play with your friends?â
Twirling a strand of hair around her finger, Jay stares at the fire while she thinks of what to say. âWell, there were sleepover games. Like, two truths and a lie, charades, trying to summon spirits. You know, the usual. There was also Bloody Mary. That was a big favourite for a while.â
âIsnât that a drink?â Zeph interrupts. His nose scrunched in thought.
âNo!â Jay laughs. âWell, yes. But, we were like, 12 at the time. So, we werenât drinking much. It was kind of a game. A terrifying, oddly thrilling game.â
âMuch?â Shreya snorts, coughing into her drink.
Jay sticks her tongue out at Shreya, but before she can retort, Beckett speaks up. âYou mentioned summoning spirits. Isnât that a dangerous past-time for children? Where were your parents?â
His tone is full displeasure, a frown marring his forehead and Jay canât help but grin at him. âWe were using a âOuijaâ board created by the same company that makes play-doh. I doubt we could have summoned a cold, never mind a spirit.â
âPlay-doh?â Zeph questions, his eyebrows raised.
âItâs likeâŠsquidgy, colourful goop for toddlers.â Jay describes, her hand waving dismissively.
Smirking, Shreya stands to pick up a few snacks. âSo, very dangerous?â Â
âThe worst!â Jay agrees, grinning.
âAnd Bloody Mary?â Beckett asked. âWas that harmless fun as well?â He still sounds disapproving, but heâs smiling, at least.
Tilting her head, Jay grimaces. âThere was that one time, my friend Kat broke the bathroom mirror by punching it. That⊠was not fun. Or harmless.â
âOk, now I need to know.â Zeph states. He moves closer to where Jay is sitting, scooting on to the floor until heâs sitting cross-legged.
âMe too,â Griffin adds. âWhy would she punch the mirror? Is it part of the game?â
Jay looks around at her friends and finds them all looking at her expectantly. Well, she did bring it up, she thinks. The least she can do is give them a good story. âOk, so. Bloody Mary is basically an urban legend. Thereâs lots of different versions out there, but Iâll tell the one I was told. Is that OK?â
At everyoneâs agreement, Jay launches into the story of Bloody Mary. Doing her best to encapsulate the tale of a witch who was captured, tortured and murdered for the deaths of little girls and who ultimately cursed the villagers before her own end.
âWait, how is this related to a game?â Griffin questions as Jay finishes the back story.
âYes, it sounds like an attuneless village using an attuned as a scapegoat.â Beckett sounded angry, his eyes hard, and Jay worried that she had picked the wrong legend to tell.
âIâm just getting to that,â Jay assured. âI promise.â She holds Beckettâs gaze, waiting until he nods to continue.
âSo, the curse was basically that if anyone dared mention her name in front of a mirror, sheâd come and get them. Which launched the âgameâ,ââ Jay continues, her fingers making air quotes as she smiles at Beckett, pleased when his posture loosens in response.
âDuring sleepovers, we would go into the bathroom, alone, with a candle. To summon her, youâd light the candle, turn off the light, recite âBloody Mary,â thirteen timesâŠand then youâd look in the mirror. She was supposed to appear, either dripping in blood or to attack you to scratch out your eyes. The game was too see who could last the longest before freaking out.â Jay pauses dramatically, drawing back to see her friendsâ reactions.
Frowning, Aster turns to Jay. âYou delight in your friends being scared? That doesnât sound very nice.â
âItâs not that theyâre scared, itâsâŠ.â Jay flounders, looking at the others for guidance only to find equally confused and horrified faces. Except for Atlas.
âI dunno,â Atlas states. âSometimes, being scared is good. It keeps you alert.â
âFor what, exactly?â Griffin asks. âTheyâre kids. At home. Itâs not like theyâre in a war zone or running for their lives.â
âIt builds character.â Atlas insists, refusing to back down.
âOr trauma,â Griffin mutters under his breath, but it isnât low enough, and everyone can hear him, causing Atlas to scowl darkly.
Sensing an argument, Jay bites her lip, her gaze switching between the two before she loudly clears her throat. When that doesnât work, she rolls her eyes and shouts to regain their attention. Â âCan I finish my story now?â She asks once theyâre looking at her once more. Griffin mouths an apology while Atlas nods, petulantly.
âSo, this one time, we were at my friend Katâs house, and she wanted to go first. We all crowded around the door when she was inside. She actually made it to thirteen, but then she screamed, like, really screamed.â Jay lifts her hands up in front of her for emphasis, her eyes wide. Â
She can feel her words coming out faster as she continues, spilling over themselves, but she canât quite slow down as she remembers that night. âI donât know who opened the door, except that it wasnât me. I think I was too scared to move. I just remember thinking â knowing â that if we looked at her, she wouldnât have any eyes. But she was fine. Or at least, her eyes were. She was crying, and there was blood on her hands and in the sink, and there was glass everywhere! When we all started screaming, her mom came in, and we were all sent home. When I spoke to Kat the next day, she swore that she saw someone in the mirror with wild hair and red eyes.â
âDid you believe her?â Aster asked, her voice soft with worry.
Sighing, Jay shrugs. âI donât know. I remember we all teased her about it, as you do. I mean, who tries to punch a ghost-witch?â
Zeph laughs at that, loudly. His mirth breaking the somewhat sombre tone that had grown around them.
âIs this why you were so freaked out when you first started seeing Atlas in the mirrors?â Shreya asked. Her voice was excited, and she had bounced upright to ask the question.
âNo, I thought I was going insane, to be honest,â Jay admitted. âEven after finding out magic was realâŠit wasâŠwell, it was weird.â
âGood to know what you really think about me,â Atlas goads.
âOh, give it a rest.â Beckett mocks. âYou donât need to pick a fight with everyone.â
Atlasâs scowl stays in place, but she rolls her eyes good-naturedly in Beckettâs direction. Thereâs a beat of silence as if everyone is contemplating the story Jay has told.
Finally, Aster breaks the quiet. âDid you play any fun games?â
âThat was fun,â Jay argues. âMost of the time, anyway.â At her friends' unbelieving looks, she tuts. âWell, what did you guys play? Quidditch? So sorry I didnât grow up knowing magic exists.â
Snorting, Shreya reaches out to nudge Jayâs shoulder. âQuidditch? Really?â
Jay shrugs, helplessly. For all she knows, they could have. Harry Potter was big damn near everywhere, after all. For the rest of the night, each of the Pend Pals gave accounts of their favourite childhood games. Even Atlas joins in, with an oddly heart-warming story about hide-and-seek, before ruining it by suggesting the skill set had helped her be stealthy.
Still, it was a good night. The perfect end to a lively celebration.
Requested by @kamilahmykweenâ for @choicesseptemberchallengeâ hosted by @ramseyandrysâ. The prompt for day 1 is âHelloâ. Thanks to @queerchoicesblogâ @strangerofbraidwoodâ for bouncing a few ideas around <3
Hello. It started with a simple âHelloâ. Well, it wasnât so âsimpleâ, not when Riley walked in on a half naked Hana; the most intoxicating woman sheâd ever seen. So elegant and graceful in the way she spoke and moved. She had to stop herself from gawking, dropping her head to hide the fierce blush which took over. Riley was almost sure that she saw the same glow on the Cordonian before her. She shook those feelings out, remembering she was there for Liam, also knowing the beauty before her was there for the same reason. Little did they both know, this was the start of something magicalâŠ
As each courtly function and personal moments went by, their feelings were becoming more and more obvious to Riley. She tried to flirt but it seemed like it was going unnoticed and sometimes unwanted. Hana couldnât understand what was going on, she normally had the answers to everything; skilled in every way possible. Each time they greeted one another, the hugs lingered more and more, heat rising within, and it wasnât until the New Yorker brushed her lips against Hanaâs cheek in greeting that she realised what was happening. She was shocked, yet excited and all that left her lips was a soft whisper of Rileyâs name. Riley was delighted that she saw even an ounce of longing from Hana. Thereafter, she could see she was getting more comfortable with their stolen moments. Hanaâs hands began to linger on her arm more, her gaze shifted to open affection from confusion; yet they hadnât said it out loud. Both quietly knew and basked in their own âsecretâ. It was an escape from the politics and scandals. But they were both there to win over a man. Where they ever going to be able to express themselves?
It was time, the night where Liam was to announce who he would marry. The nobility were in their finest and there was an air of excitement. Riley knew he was going to choose her, but she didnât have any feelings left for him other than friendship. How was she to turn down a future king? How could she possibly tell Hana how she felt? It was all consuming and she could barely hold her emotions together. Well, that was until she saw Hana at the far end of the room. Riley couldnât hold back her smile; eyes lighting up, heart beating faster just at the site of Hanaâs rare beauty. Hanaâs dress perfectly hugged her body in the right places, the colour intensifying the innocence in her eyes. With every step they took, their hearts seemed to thump louder and louder. The confidence in Hanaâs gaze was overwhelming in itself. Bit by bit their smiles curved in to a bigger smile; it was as though they were looking at a reflection of their own joy. Their final steps were taken at haste and the electricity in their embrace was undeniable. Riley turned her head slightly as she breathed, âHelloâ.
As they broke away, the smile on Hanaâs face had disappeared and all that was left was sorrow and worry.  Riley urged Hana to explain, her heart silently breaking at the revelation of Hana having to return home. Hana led them to her bedroom, it was only when the door closed she broke down in what seemed to be an endless waterfall. The New Yorker took her in her arms, lending comfort without words. Hana clung to her like her life depended on it, it was only then they were sure their feelings were mutual. She tried to break away to wipe away her tears in private, but Riley pulled her gently back in to her arms, wiping them away as she moved a strand of her from her face. Their faces inched closer, âHana, you canât go, I wonât let this happenâ, closer, âThereâs so much I need to sayâ, even closer âI donât know where to start. YouâreâŠyouâŠIâŠmaybe I could show you?â. Before she could respond, Riley closed the distance placing a soft kiss on her lips. Hana gasped, as she ran her fingertips over her own lips, not wanting the indescribable sensation to go. Riley took this as an invitation and claimed Hana in a much deeper kiss; one which was pleasantly returned with the same fervour. Their troubles seem to melt away and they knew they were exactly where they should be.
There were many trials ahead, however they faced them as a united front from there on out -unstoppable as their love grew. Even now, as they cradle their child, they tell the tale of the âHelloâ which changed Cordonia and their lives forever.
đHi lovely! I hope you are having an awesome day.. just a reminder that No one is you, and THAT is your superpower đȘđŒ ~Spread kindness & Have an awesome dayđ! -@unexpected-kindness123
Second Chances: Chapter One - The Butterfly Effect
Book: Desire and Decorum â Modern AU
Notes:
* The lines and words in Portuguese are translated on the notes in the end.
* One mild swearing.
* English is not my first language.
* All characters belong to Pixelberry.
If you want to be added or removed of the tag list, please let me know.
A silly thought had crawled its way to Elizabethâs mind during the long flight and the many hours sheâs barely slept. Once she reached the arrivals gate at London City Airport, she expected that instead of the driver, her father would be standing there with arms ready to hug her. But he wasnât. And neither was the driver.
Her eyes searched around for someone with a uniform holding a card with her name. However, amongst the people waiting for their loved ones at the airport, there was no one expecting her.
Frowning, she pulled her phone out of her backpack pocket and wrote a short message to her father telling him sheâd arrived in London. An emoji of a face blowing a heart was inserted before she sent it. Her father doesnât speak emoji, but he would understand this one, she was certain.
Pulling the large and heavy suitcase she wandered, peeking at the phone on her hand from time to time, waiting for an answer, whilst there was no friendly face flashing a sign with her name on it.
Apparently, I write things now. Or at least, I try to. So I thought I may as well attempt a âMasterlistâ of my fics. Excuse the banners, I wanted some colours up in hereâŠand yeah.Â
Underlined are links to completed pieces
Italics are upcoming works and are subject to change.Â
The sudden touch to her shoulder startles Kya, and she jerks awkwardly in her seat, her knee banging against the desk. Cursing, her hand flaps between her aching leg to her chest where she can feel her heart hammering.
Kya can feel her eyes narrowing as she takes in the carnage of pens and paper scattered across the desk and whirls around to come face to⊠well chest, with Colt. Tilting her head upwards, her sharp words still on her tongue as she sees his apologetic expression. Sighing, Kya gets up from the chair, contenting herself with a glare as her gaze rakes over him.
One of his hands is rubbing along the back of his neck, the other pushed into his front jeans pocket. Thereâs a small frown on his forehead that despite her anger, she itches to reach out and smooth away.
"I didn't mean to scare you."
Shrugging, Kya lets out a deep breath as she begins to pick up her wayward notes. "It's fine," she replies. Her voice is terse even to her own ears.
"You like mint, don't you?"
The question throws her, and she freezes, her hand halfway to a book. Blinking rapidly, she side-eyes Colt from behind her glasses. "Mint?" She repeats dully. It occurs to her that she's misheard him in some way, but there isn't much it could be unless he was asking for a hint or implying that she had a squint.
"Yeah, mint. Do you like mint?" Both his hands are in his pockets now, and he's rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. The whole set up makes Kya suspicious. He's acting strangely, even for him.
"It's Ok, I suppose." She answers slowly. She canât help but stare, her arms dropping uselessly to her sides.
"Good. Do you need a hand with that?" Colt asks, pointing to the mess, but she shakes her head.Â
"It's fine, I've got it," Kya murmurs. She can hear the annoyance in her voice and forces a wane smile to try and take the bite from it. But really, what was he expecting? Scaring her to ask if she liked mint?Â
Kya rubs at her eyes as she hears Colts retreating steps. There was still a lot of work to do if she wanted to catch up. There was no way she was going to fall behind in her schoolwork, not when she had worked so hard. Sighing, Kya gives one last roll of her shoulders before falling back into the chair, pen in hand.
She soon gets lost in work, her hand cramping once or twice as it flies across her notepaper, oblivious to the world around her until a noise behind her pulls her from her flow. Blinking, Kya holds her breath as she looks up in time to catch Colt â loudly â clearing his throat once more.
âYou like strawberries, donât you? Youâre not allergic to them?â His face is anxious, and Kya can see the fingers of his right-hand twitching against his leg, beating an erratic tattoo.
Frowning, she can feel her mind spinning dizzily as she answers. âCherries. Iâm allergic to cherries.â
âCherries!â Colt exclaims. Â âI knew it was a red fruit. Thanks.â
He barely paused to draw breath, the words pouring out in a rush even as he backed out of the room. And then he was gone, leaving Kya with her mouth agape as she stared blankly at the empty space Colt had just occupied.
Snorting, Kya raises her hands in disbelief, looking around her even though she knows sheâs alone. âWhat, in theâŠâ she mutters, before turning back to the desk. She picks up her pen and turns back to the paragraph sheâd been skimming, but the words are blurry. She tries to read her notes, hoping to pick up the thread of her thoughts, but itâs like the letters are skittering around the paper, evading her.
Huffing, Kya throws her pen down in disgust, knowing thereâs no way sheâs going to be able to concentrate. Not until she knows what Coltâs up to. She eyes the organised chaos of the desk and scowls, a nagging at the back of her mind reminding her of her earlier promise to not stop until she was done; no matter what.
Obviously, no matter what hadnât included an obliviously up-to-something Colt. Â
Sighing once more, Kya begins clearing up her study material. There's a ball of anxiety resting heavily in her stomach as she puts her notes away, a reminder that she's giving up. That she hasn't kept to her schedule.Â
Outrageously, she feels tears building up behind her eyes and swiftly wipes them away with her sleeve. Frustration always brought out her tears more than anything else. Especially when she was frustrated at herself. Sniffling a little, Kya scrunches her nose as she tidies away her notes, forcibly humming to herself.Â
The sound keeps her from hearing Colt as he approaches, and she doesn't notice his presence until he calls her name. Reeling around, she can see a massive grin on his face, his hands extended out to her, and it takes her a moment to put the pieces together and appreciate the sight in front of her.Â
Heâs holding out a mug of the most perfect hot chocolates she's ever seen. As soon as she sees it, the smell of mint and chocolate hits her like a warm embrace, and she wonders how she didnât notice the aroma as soon as he came into the room.Â
There are pink and white heart marshmallows dotted artfully over whipped cream, almost obscuring the sugary liquid in the mug. Only the smell and the tell-tale stain around the edge of the cup hints at its content. The mug itself is resting on a small plate, topped with freshly cut strawberries.
Immediately, Kya's mind clears. Her previous worry and anxieties melting away as she looks up to see Colt watching her, his eyes scanning her face carefully.Â
She wants to hug him, but checks herself, unwilling to dislodge the treat he has so carefully put together. Grinning, she bounces forward on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. Taking the mug from him, she places it on the desk before throwing her arms around Colts shoulders, taking in the comforting smell of engine oil, aftershave and the face cream he would never admit to using.
âThank you,â she whispers, before her lips meet Colts, her hands moving to tangle in his hair as his hands find her waist, pulling her closer. She can taste strawberries on his lips, and for a moment, sheâs lost in his touch, drowning in his presence. But then he pulls away, clearing his throat.
âHurry up and taste it!â Colt complains. âI need to know if I did it right. This took effort, you know.â Thereâs a tell-tale streak of red on his cheeks even as he tries to sound firm.
Snorting, Kya sticks her tongue out at him before swivelling on her heels. Impulsively, she hikes herself up onto the desk, her legs swinging off the end as she picks up the mug, wrapping her hands around it and allowing the warmth to seep into her palms.
Looking up, she can see Colt watching her and smiles cheekily. Lifting the mug to her lips, she momentarily closes her eyes and delicately licks some the marshmallow topping before taking a sip of the hot chocolate, complete with a dollop of cream. Itâs divine. The blend a perfect mix of mint, cream and sugar. Thereâs something in it that reminds her of the hot chocolate her mother used to make, a feeling of warmth and love rather than a specific taste, and she has to blink rapidly to stop a sudden onslaught of tears.
âItâs amazing!â She declares. Reaching down to grasp a strawberry, Kya pops it in her mouth, humming happily as the slight bitterness fills her mouth; a contrast to the sweet drink.
âYouâre sure?â He asks. âNot too much cream orâŠâ
âIâm sure,â Kya affirms, pausing to take another drink. âItâs perfect.â
He continues to stare for a moment, his hand coming up once more to rub at the back of his neck. âGood. Thatâs good.â He mutters as he walks out of the room. Before he leaves, Kya swears she can see him blushing and bites on her lip to stop herself from laughing. He really could be sweet sometimes. When he wasnât trying to hide it.
So this happened today ... and Iâm truly floored!
I still remember when I first joined this fandom and I had no clue what I was doing. I started reading and wanted to give feedback ... and it took me quite a while to figure out the difference between comments and reblogs and even longer to figure out why any of it mattered.
Then this amazing thing happened and authors started talking back to me. They got joy from my comments. And I was thrilled because I could give joy to people just by doing the thing I wanted to do anyways. #canitreallybethateasy?!
I had a few followers at this point. But I didnât think anything of it because I considered my contribution to be minimal at best.
People kept asking how I read so much. My answer was this: thereâs a lot more time to read when youâre not providing any content for the fandom. #Iknownowjusthowtruethisreallyis
So I started the MFackenthal Show and my review posts as ways to give back. I didnât write fics, I didnât create art, but I wanted to contribute more. By this point, I had around 150 to 200 amazing followers.
A little later, I tried to get a fabulous author to write me into one of her fics (which she did eventually do as a gift to me ... but I failed in my original attempt) and she âmade meâ write with her. Her and Ethan opened my eyes to the wonder of creating stories and then you crazy people said youâd read more if I wrote more and now youâre probably a bit sorry that you said that but youâre dedicated and youâre sweet and kind and wonderful so you stick around.
And truly, I am humbled and honored and blessed and lucky to have each of you as a follower. Thank you for your love, your laughter, your reblogs, your comments, your well wishes, or for not telling me when you hate what I did.
So ... if youâve read all the way to this point - there is a giveaway. 3 lucky people will win their choice of a fic (you choose the pairing and a prompt) or a spot on the MFackenthal Show (or if youâve already been on, you can help me host a show by choosing either another tumblr or a choices character to be on the show). To win - you guessed it - just reblog or like this post by Monday Sept 2 by midnight Pacific Timezone.
âHey, Michelle. Sean here. Iâm in Boston for the next couple of days. I know youâre busy but if youâre free, would love to get dinner or a drink and catch up. Hope youâre well.â
âTo delete this message, press seven. To saveââ
Michelle ended the call. It was the fourth time she had listened to the voice message. Sean had called earlier in the day, but sheâd been with patients and hadnât seen the notification until an hour later. Then she delayed listening to it. Three more hours went by and finally, she willed herself to check her voicemail.
Now it was an hour later and she still hadnât responded.
Lucky for her, Michelle had the excuse that she was busy saving lives. Literally. Or at least being supervised to save them since she was an intern.Â
Michelle gazed at her phone and navigated to her text messages. Pulse quickening, she scrolled down to her conversation with Sean and clicked. The last message had been sent six months ago. Like a gentleman, heâd texted her happy birthday. Sheâd responded with a perfunctory âthank youâ even though she was secretly thrilled to hear from him and wanted to say more. But given how theyâd drifted apart over the years, it didnât feelâŠwell, she just thought it didnât make sense.
Can someone please write a Hana fic where IS able to have a baby and is NOT barren and she and Mc cry when they hold the baby in their arms for the first time? - Anonymous
đHi lovely! Iâve been in the Choices fandom for awhile and I wanted to spread some kindness~~so here we are with my new account @unexpected-kindness123 !! đ ~This is my first post & I hope you have an absolutely awesome dayđ!
Oh my goodness!
To get this on an absolute shit of a Monday is just đđđđ
Has anyone been curious about how many people are actually in the Choices fandom? Like I was just thinking about this, and I really wanna know how many people are in the fandom! So if you are in the Choices fandom, like or reblog this post! Ofc not every single person in the fandom will see this or like/reblog, but itâd still be cool to get somewhat of an estimate!
Notes:
* Mentions to illness and death.
* English is not my first language.
* All the phrases in Portuguese are translated on the notes in the end.
* All characters belong to Pixelberry.
If you want to be added or removed of the tag list, just let me know.
With a click Elizabeth closed the door to the empty apartment and to many chapters of her life. With a half-hearted smile to the blond young woman at her side, she put the keys on her backpack pocket. The walk to the lift was punctuated solely by the sounds of the rolling wheels of the suitcase and their footsteps.
A silent ride down, like never before. They shared a look, but not a word about College or boys or the beach, a passion they both shared. The air heavy with what was left unsaid. But would any language express properly all that means saying goodbye to your childhood friend?
Either way, they knew how the otherâs absence would hurt. They held hands and marched together the last metres.
It was three oâclock in the afternoon when the yellow taxi parked outside the building in Copacabana, where Elizabeth has lived for the past twelve years.
Taking a last look at the ten-store building, she waved to the doorman, receiving in exchange warm wishes of a safe trip, and stepped on the pavement pulling her suitcase. A lump growing on her throat with each step.
Her best friend Renata, with glistening eyes, embraced her one last time. Both struggling to keep the promise not to cry.
âVĂȘ lĂĄ se vai ficar metida com seu pai da realeza e esquecer de mim!âÂč
âJamais, garota! Nem que meu pai fosse da realeza mesmo!âÂČ she giggled, âSe eu pudesse, levava vocĂȘ na malaâŠâÂł
Holding each other tighter, she heard the loud exhale and felt her friendâs shoulders slump. Elizabeth stroked her arm and placed a kiss on her cheek. They were friends since first grade and saying goodbye wasnât easy.
Blowing a kiss, she sat on the back of the car. Through the windows she saw her friend, her home and everything that was familiar staying behind. A last glance at the Corcovado with the Cristo Redentor on its peak, with arms wide open over the city, before entering the darkness of the tunnel.
Notes: * This is my submission to the Choices August Challenge â The Prompt: Candid Camera.
* Itâs part of a Modern AU series Iâm working on thatâs called âSecond Chancesâ.
* English is not my first language.
* All characters belong to Pixelberry.
Synopses: Briar Daly loves photographing her group of friends, and that activity allows her much more than merely registering happy encounters.
If you wish to be added or removed of the tag list, just let me know. :)
In most groups of friends there is one person that will photograph everything and everyone. Like an anthropologist cataloguing elements and habits that wonât last forever. Their lens freezing smiles and moments â special and mundane â for posterity. Registering all the details: whether itâs a new hairstyle or the reaction to a joke that only makes sense amongst these comrades.
Each photograph adding to the narrative been built little by little. Registers capable to survive the years, the end of friendship and if minds start to forget every bit of the past, mementos that will bring smiles to the lips, a warmth to the heart and perhaps even the desire to reach out.
In this particular group, Briar Daly is that person. Her eyes always attentive to seize the picture-perfect instants. Proud to have been responsible for bringing them together, she cherishes their encounters.
Mobile in hand, sheâd take pictures of anything she found noteworthy: from the food they shared to the way the light reflected on Elizabethâs brown curly hair one afternoon. From Annabelleâs sleights-of-hand that causes food to disappear from a plate that is not her own to Hamidâs hands dancing enthusiastically while his lips narrate one of his tales.
Also piqued her interest how Lukeâs palms press against the table before his head hangs back and the infectious sound leaves his mouth, and the way laughter spreads throughout his body. Minor aspects she finds endearing and prompt the urge to immortalize them.
