#her name is mafalda

[traumafactory28]

Imma talk about my cat 😌

When my cat was younger and still skittish, I had no idea how to get her to sleep or be comfortable laying on me. So, the brilliant 14 year old I was, decided to start playing "come little children" every time she got tired because I thought it was a soft lullaby and it'd encourage her to sleep comfortably. It worked. Now, every time I play it, she comes over to sleep on me. I love her so much. She's forever a kitten in my eyes.

The way that i got her used to me physically was to lay down with her in her kennel everyday while she was healing her broken paw.

The only "disadvantage" of this is that she is afraid of everyone except me and codependent. I'm working on fixing her social anxiety tho by carrying her out of my room and holding her while guests are there.

She's such a smart kitty. I've kind of taught her commands. Cats are smart, just like dogs, they just choose to ignore people most of the time. My kitty likes me, so she listens.

The commands she knows are:

(Edit: some of these aren't even commands, just different ways we communicate with each other)

*Prolonged whistle* : come here (urgency depending on pitch and volume of note)

*Two sharp kissy noises* ??( I don't know how else to describe it than that): get up/move

Show me your belly?/flop?/laydown? (The questioning tone is important. She just thinks I'm talking at her if in a commanding tone): she flops on the ground for belly rubs

Up up *tap twice on specified surface* : jumps up on surface.

*Claw hand with spread fingers* : playtime

*headtilt* : what's wrong/needed (i usually do this when she's hurt, out of food, water or something is agitating her, she usually immediately goes to/point out the problem)

*Two nail taps in quick succession on a hard surface* or sharp and short whistle: look at me.

I haven't taught her anything else than that because everything else can be conveyed and communicated via slight nudges and eyecontact. She knows I love her and won't do anything to hurt her. She has literally let me put one of her paws in my mouth, as if I was going to bite her, then slow blinked, calling my bluff. (This morning) she knows me too well.

We have an amazing bond. My parents split up 2 years ago and were debating on who got what pets. They originally planned on my step mom taking all the cats, but immediately backtracked for the sole reason that "Mafalda is Elias's cat". This split also left my dad's dog in my care as well. He's a pit named mitch. He's a dumbass, but I'm teaching him the same way as mafalda but with more words and repetitions.

Mitch and Mafalda don't get along and usually stalks each other when one isn't looking, but they put their differences aside when I'm in the room with them. They both like to sleep with me, so they have a truce while in bed. He likes to sleep by my side and she like to sleep on me, so they kinda have to be close. The only exception to the truce is if mitches mouth gets too close to her, then she quickly reminds him to not even try it with a bap and a hiss. A quick "guys" gets them to stop tho.

She used to hate being picked up due to her fear of heights since breaking her paw, but she let's me do it. She did it only for short period of time at first, but once she realized that I would put her down at first sign of discomfort, she slowly got used to it and let's me pick her up whenever.

Recently, I've been made aware of the fact from my dad that while I'm out, mafalda will sit in the kitchen on the table and wait for me to return home. She always greets me at the door and let's me pick her up to my room.

She might as well be called Baby at this point with how little I actually call her mafalda when talking to her.

God I love her. Thank you for listening to me rant about my codependent tuxedo kitty named Mafalda.

Here she is. She's laying on me in all the pictures.

[stars-of-the-heart]

Here she is!!! 😌💗

Your daily dose of cat memes

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

A smile takes hold of Elio’s features as Oliver’s doting gaze shifts between Jesse - currently pacing a bone-dry mudflat - and Noah, who’s shimmied up the gnarled tree trunk, itself; determined fingers stretched to where the course fibres of the rope’s other end are wedged firmly in the pendulous canopy.

THE BEST LAID SCHEMES OF MICE AND MEN

The late-afternoon shimmers with stationary heat; the muggy air typical of the syrup-slow days of August. The turquoise sky is equally photogenic - essentially cloudless where it skirts the remote, mountain peaks - and wiping the pollen from his tinted Persol’s Elio savours the fragrant aroma of basil and juniper as a gentle breeze rustles the stunted cedars that pepper his secret spot.

Though nowhere near as secret as it used to be, he’ll admit, scooping Little Ollie under one arm to clear a patch of brambles: his curiosity piqued by the intermittent hollers drifting beyond the ridge. The shadows have unspooled around them - his nine-year-old brother having scoured the wildflower meadow for butterflies, finches - and an occasional womp rat - and plucking a twig from his corkscrew curls Elio spins the budding X-Wing pilot over a clump of vibrant poppies; retracing their steps to the grassy riverbank upon which they’d sprawled out earlier. 

The closer they get, the more boisterous the laughter becomes, yet brushing aside some trailing wisteria it’s Oliver’s magnetic energy he’s drawn to first: calmly treading water beneath a partially uprooted willow; a thick coil of rope tied snugly about his hips. Achelous personified, he’s like something from a dream, and a smile takes hold of Elio’s features as Oliver’s doting gaze shifts between Jesse - currently pacing a bone-dry mudflat - and Noah, who’s shimmied up the gnarled tree trunk, itself; determined fingers stretched to where the course fibres of the rope’s other end are wedged firmly in the pendulous canopy. 

“The boys figured they’d make a swing,” Micol informs him, unscrewing the cap from a bottle of San Pellegrino.

“Edoardo spared some old moor line,” Miranda remarks, jerking her chin at the twin-hulled fishing boat trawling the westward cove.

With practised ease, she bundles Little Ollie into her lap - reapplying a generous layer of sunscreen no matter his squirming protestations - and Elio can only assume the project is going badly, albeit enjoyably, as Jesse lets loose a resounding whoop; Noah having successfully released his prize before launching himself at the Alpi Orobie in a haphazard cannonball.

“How long have they been at it?” he asks, rifling through their picnic basket for Mafalda’s homemade apricot juice. 

The circuitous trek to the harbour was no quick ride, for starters. 

Micol shoots him a smirk. “Half an hour in the river,” she says, distracting Little Ollie with a docile dragonfly. “Most of which they’ve spent wrangling the rope.” A beat. “When Ols wasn’t chasing it downstream, of course…”

“Of course,” Elio agrees, bemused and somewhat blinded by the Star of David glistening at the other man’s throat. “I guess that explains the belt, then?”

“Teamwork makes the dream work…” Micol murmurs, frowning at Jesse who’s attempting to scrabble up Noah’s back.

Still, at five foot five, and graced with a rower’s physique, she and Oliver’s eldest proves to be a friction-free surface, and the slippery silt sends Jesse tumbling; jolting his brother sideways in one, last heroic effort. They both emerge sputtering - raking the dark-blond hair from their foreheads - and Elio’s eyes turn automatically to their father: maintaining his place at the deeper centre despite the deceptive current. 

Sun-kissed shoulders burnished in the dappled light.

Naked chest broad as ever; dusky nipples inciting memories of mapping that same flush of colour with his teeth.

But it’s more than that, however - more than just the physical - and Elio bubbles with happiness at the unselfconscious manner in which he carries himself; the confidence he’s fought hard to master since his life-altering return to B.

To him.

“Perhaps I should offer some advice…” he wonders aloud, recalling the untold salvage digs he’d partaken as a teenager. 

Sure, there’s no bronze Boxers to dredge up here, but Micol just hums in faux consideration when Oliver’s forced to intervene: Noah holding Jesse captive via a hearty headlock. “What? And miss out on all the fun?” she says, New England accent rich with devilment. “Nothing wrong in keeping them humble, I’ve learned. Besides… this is better than the Summer Olympics.” 

“Or the Three Stooges.”

“I heard that, Perlman!” 

He’s grinning though, is Oliver, so kicking off his espadrilles Elio drops his shirt and glasses to the tartan blanket then wades into the shallows; gathering the fugitive rope en route to haul it after him. “Honnêtement! You need to lift and counter the undertow,” he says, biceps already straining when he transfers it over. “Reduce as much tension as possible, ouais?” 

An anchoring grip finds his waist below the water; calloused thumb circling his navel in an absent-minded sweep. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

Elio snickers at Oliver’s coy expression. “Behave,” he mutters, untying the loop from his midsection. “I’ll climb, you’ll be my ballast,” he instructs, before tossing it to Jesse, also. “Once I’m in position, all you’ll have to do is pass that back, then help Noah steady your father for good measure.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” the agents of chaos chorus, and Oliver snickers in undisguised amusement as he hunkers lower; presumably studying their choice of branches ‘til Elio wriggles his toes against his thigh.  

“Give me your hand, mio amato.”

Noah plants his feet whilst Oliver’s cheeks flood a pretty rosé; but be it from exertion or arousal he can’t quite tell. “Isn’t that my line?” he asks with a wink, the onyx engagement ring at Elio’s knuckle glinting as they make a common fist.

“Pronto?”

A huff. “Andiamo, Italiano.”

Elio braces his fingertips on Oliver’s sternum; a moth to his siren flame. “Uno, due, tre…”

Straight away, the pull of muscle flexes beneath golden skin, and Oliver grunts as he bears his weight; bunching the seat of his cargo shorts to aid his vertical momentum. They soon hit the tipping point of Oliver’s balance, regardless, yet their lurching stagger is somehow avoided when Elio slaps the rough-hewn bark with the heel of his palm.

“Jesse…”

“Ready when you are, Pro,” the younger man says, so Elio sets his jaw then gestures for the rolled-up moor line. 

It takes a bit of wriggling - Oliver’s forearms wrapped securely across Elio’s trembling calves - but focused on their united purpose he hooks the prospective rope swing over a suitably angled bough; leaving the requisite amount hanging with which to circle the sturdy limb.

“Accidenti,” he grouses, foiled twice in as many minutes. “I can’t reach far enough to fasten it.” Swiping the sweat from his prickling brow, he bites his bottom lip. “I need to go higher.”

“Higher?!” Oliver asks as Jesse rises to the challenge; looping both arms around his abdomen. 

“Sì, higher.” Elio props a knee on his fiancé’s shoulder. “Comparative adjective of Germanic descent. Regional derivative of the Old English hierra and hera.”

“I’ll show you a derivative…” Oliver growls - an intimate tease that has no business outside their bedroom - then grumbles something else it’s best Little Ollie doesn’t hear the moment Elio hoists himself upwards; trusting the mettle of his newfound family to keep him safely aloft. 

“Almost there…” he assures, catching the furthest end with the crook of his elbow, and not wanting to strangle the growing tree he fumbles a running bowline, adding a simple double knot to the dangling length in order to boost the traction. “E finito!” Elio bellows, giving it an experimental tug, and both boys groan dramatically when Oliver steals a victor’s kiss; peeling to the side in such perfect synchronicity there’s zero hope of stopping the cart-wheeling plummet that follows.

[jerzwriter]

I just couldn't let the first chapter stand. This story is not part of my headcanon. In my HC, Trystan is in tune enough with Carolina to know she'd consider an engagement premature at this stage. But, I can conceivably see Trystan wanting to propose for... reasons. So, I wanted to do a little fix it... and here it is in two parts. Oh, and since I can suck at getting subsequent parts up, part two will be posted later today. :)

Book: Crimes of Passion: The Proposal Pairing: m!Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Characters: Ruby Webster, Luke Watanabe, Mafalda Ginovesi Words: 2,074 Rating: Teen Summary: Carolina makes an unexpected discovery in Trystan's kitchen, then runs out to seek advice from her friends. A/N: Participating in @choicesmaychallenge24 Hera: Marriage

Part Two Crimes of Passion Masterlist Complete Masterlist

There’s something special about early mornings in New York City - before the sun peeks through the clouds and the first bird has yet to sing its song. It’s the only time you’ll find the City that never sleeps at rest and it can be intoxicating. But the serenity on the streets of New York at this early hour was nothing compared to the tranquility inside Trystan Thorne’s apartment.

There, he slept peacefully with the love of his life nuzzled closely at his side. But while Trystan was adrift in dreamland, he awakened Carolina from hers, courtesy of somniloquy, or as the masses would call it... talking in his sleep.  

“Yes, Your Majesty... Right away... I’ll find it...”

Carolina opened her eyes with a smile; she had seen this show before and found it quite entertaining. It rarely had a repeat, so she never knew what was in store.

“Unhand me, you beast! Otherwise, I can’t promise the search will be thorough!”

She cocked a brow at that one, gently rubbing Trystan's back. “What the hell are you dreaming about, my prince.”

With a quick jerk, he rolled over, desperately reaching out in his sleep. “Don’t go, Carolina! I love you!”

The level of desperation in his voice tugged at Carolina’s heart, and she quickly pulled him into a protective embrace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, kissing the top of his sleepy head. “You silly man. I love you, too.”

Still sleeping, Trystan's face visibly changed as he snuggled closer; peace and contentment were the rules for the day. Once she was certain he was sleeping soundly, Carolina decided returning to her slumber was the best thing to do, and she was just about to reach that goal when the ring of her phone jolted her awake. Not wanting to disturb Trystan, she lowered the volume and quickly tiptoed out of his room, grumbling the whole way. She saw Mafalda’s name on her screen and answered with an exaggerated yawn.

“Who’s dead?” she asked, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“If you’re calling me this early in the morning, I’m assuming someone died, and you need me to find out who did it.”

Mafalda’s sarcastic grin was so powerful Carolina could hear in her voice. “It doesn’t always have to be that deep... or tragic... But I have a case I want you to start on immediately.”

She went on to explain that one of New York’s wealthiest and most influential socialites had her dog stolen while strolling in Central Park; time was of the essence, and the heiress was willing to pay handsomely to have her precious poodle back home.

“Really?” Carolina asked. “This sounds like an easy payday to me!”

“I admire your confidence; now, see it through. The client’s name is Nina Ricci, and her address is....”

“Hold on a second,” Carolina replied, fumbling through a kitchen drawer. “I need to find a pen.”

Still groggy, she was quickly awakened when her fingers brushed over a soft, velvet box. Her heart stopped when she looked down—after all, she had only seen that color blue in movies... and she knew what it meant. It wasn’t nosiness as much as her detective’s acumen that made her open the box at once, and she gasped loud enough for Mafalda to hear when she saw what was inside.

“Carolina... are you OK?”

It was a ring. Not any old ring, but an engagement ring fit for royalty glistening in her hands.

“No... this... this can’t be....” she muttered.

“Carolina, what can’t be?” 

“Oh, uh... Mafalda... it’s uh... it’s nothing. Uhm... I’ll be at the office within the hour.”

She hung up without waiting for a reply, her heart racing as she stared at the glittering gem in her hand.  

“This can’t be...” she repeated. “He’s not planning on proposing... is he?”

She brought the ring closer, the radiant light it emanated assaulting her startled eyes. She had never been one of those girls who dreamed about engagements from childhood, so she couldn’t even begin to guess how many carats this was, though she knew it eclipsed the two-carat boulder that graced Mafalda’s left hand.

“This had to cost him more than I’ve earned in my lifetime,” she muttered. “This is crazy! And he has it in the kitchen drawer... the kitchen drawer. The man has, like... five safes in this apartment! And he keeps this in the kitchen drawer?”  

She let out a shaky breath as a million thoughts raced in her mind. She’d be lying if she said she never thought about the two of them getting married...someday... in the future. The distant future, but this... this was far too soon!

“Is he really ready for this? Am I?”

A vision of Trystan on one knee appeared before her. He cradled the precious gem in his hand, and that sweet, doe-eyed look she had become unable to deny was all over his face. She broke into a sweat. She considered Googling her symptoms. Dizziness, nausea, and a rapid heartbeat could indicate many things, but she felt guilty for hoping to find "discovering an engagement ring in your lover’s kitchen drawer" among the culprits.

The sound of footsteps plodding down the hall pulled her from her panicked state. She returned the ring to the exact spot where she found it and grabbed a container of orange juice from the fridge. Jumping into a chair at the kitchen counter, she scrolled through her phone, attempting to look nonchalant.

That's where a groggy Trystan found her. "Look at you!" He mumbled as his arms encircled her. “It should be against the law to look that good so early in the morning.”

“Really?” She grinned. “You look pretty good in the mornings, too, sir. If they make it illegal, I would have to arrest you.”

“Kinky,” he growled. “As long as we’re in the same cell, I wouldn’t mind one bit.”

He shuffled to the counter to make a pot of coffee. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Mafalda called. She has a case for me. I’ll be heading into the office momentarily.”

Trystan’s face fell. “Today! But we just got back from Drakovia! Surely, Mafalda can spare you for a day!”

 “You have a lot to learn about Mafalda... and what it’s like to be a working person,” Carolina grinned.

“Then it's time I learn. I’ll get dressed and go with you.”

“NO!” Carolina yelled, halting him in his path.

“Why? We are partners, aren’t we?”

“Uh, yeah. But Mafalda only requested me, and, uh, hon... life’s been a whirlwind lately. I think I need a few hours to focus on myself and my work... is that OK?”

“Of course it is. Maybe we could meet up later, at...”

“Oh, look at the time!” Carolina interrupted, planting a quick kiss on Trystan’s cheek before bolting toward the door. “I have to go! Talk to you later!”

“Carolina, wait...” he hollered after her, but it was pointless. She was already gone, and Trystan’s dazed look turned into one of pure amusement.

“I always knew it would be interesting to date an American,” he grinned, raising his coffee cup to his lips. “I just had no idea how interesting.”

~~~~~ 

A short time after, Carolina burst into the agency, startling Ruby and Luke, who were already there.

“Carolina,” Ruby chuckled. “Is someone chasing you?”

“Ruby!” a red-faced Carolina panted. “I need your help! I need your help right now! It’s an...emergency!”

“If it’s about finding the poodle, I’m not your woman. I don’t know much about dogs.”

“It’s not about the dog! It’s about the ring!”

Ruby scrunched her nose. “Did someone lose a ring?”

“No! No, it’s not about a lost ring; it’s about a FOUND ring! An engagement ring! In Trystan’s drawer!”

The room fell silent as the couple’s eyes grew wide. They exchanged a shocked look before Luke turned to his friend with alarm.

“You’re right. This is an emergency!”

“I know!” Carolina screeched, crumbling into a nearby chair. “This has never happened to me! What am I supposed to do with this?”

Ruby sat at her friend’s side, resting a comforting hand atop her knee.

“ Carolina, I realize this is... soon... and it's a bit of a shock, but the man you adore is planning on proposing. You may not be ready, but this isn’t exactly a tragedy.”

“Well, that depends on how you define tragedy,” Luke injected.

“Honestly, it’s not even all that surprising,” Ruby stated, glowering in Luke’s direction.

“It’s not?” Carolina questioned. “We’ve been together three months, Ruby!”

“Sure. But if you kept up with the latest royal gossip like I do, you’d know that royals operate a much different playing field than us mere mortals. Engagements tend to happen pretty quickly in their world. Granted, most of them are arranged, but still.”

“Well, I’m not a royal!” Carolina huffed. “And I haven’t talked to my Uncle Tommy today, but I’m comfortable saying that he hasn’t been having late-night conversations with Viktoria and Maksim to discuss my dowry!”

Anxiety overwhelming her, she jumped to her feet, pacing the floor furiously before her friends.

“Who does this! Who goes and buys a ring... a very expensive ring, from TIFFANY’S, I might add...”

“Oh! It’s from Tiffany’s!” Ruby cooed.

“.... without even talking about it first! In the year of our lord 2024!” She motioned for Luke to get out of his seat. “I need to sit... I’m hyperventilating!”

Knowing better than to fight her, Luke acquiesced. “Carolina, you could always just tell him you found the ring and, you know, talk about it like grown-ups?”

The three friends turned toward the sound of an exasperated sigh and found Mafalda leaning against the frame of her office door. She crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of coffee before her beleaguered employee. “You need to calm down.”

“How much did you hear?” Caronlina asked wearily.

“All of it.”

“You heard all of it, and you’re telling me to calm down!”

“Yes. Get yourself together! You’ve faced down mobsters, cult killers, and murderous evil brothers; for fucks sake, you can handle coming face to face with a ring in Trystan's apartment!"

“She has a point,” Luke agreed.

“Mafalda, you’re the only expert on marriage present,” Ruby interjected. “What advice do you have?”

“Please,” Mafalda scoffed. “The only marriage I’m an expert on is my own.” She turned to Carolina, arms crossed and a look that was both comforting and commanding on her face. “I know you love Trystan, but have you given any thought to marrying him?”

“I mean... maybe a couple times... in passing. But I imagined it the future... the distant future... Even if marriage was important to me, in the three months I’ve known him, we’ve been busy chasing down those killers and murders you mentioned... never mind clearing Trystan's name and keeping him out of a Drakovian prison! When would I have had time to be thinking about... marriage?”

Mafalda screwed her eyes shut as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You need to talk to him. He needs to hear these things from you, not us. Look, some people have whirlwind courtships, get married, and go on to have a beautiful life together, but Carolina, a marriage takes two people, and if you’re not ready for it yet... that’s fine. But tell him that.”

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s going to up and leave you if you say you’re not ready,” Luke added.

Carolina turned to him, and for the first time today the anxious look in her eyes was replaced with one of fear. “How... how do you know that?”

“Because I have eyes,” he half-smiled. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re crazy about him. Just... go get your timelines straight.”

“He’s right,” Mafalda agreed. I always say that if people in a relationship are honest and love each other, they’ll get through anything.”

 Carolina gulped down the rest of her coffee, appearing more at ease than she had since this morning’s discovery. “You’re right. Now, do I tell him I found the ring and have this conversation with him now? Or wait until he proposes and say...no.”

“Offh! That’s a tough one,” Ruby jumped in. “You know Trystan... he’s go big or go home. If he’s proposing, I’m sure he has a flash mob planned.”

Carolina ran a hand down her face. "Thanks for that, Ruby," she groaned.

“You’ll have to make that call,” Maflada smiled, tossing a file Carolina’s way. “But you have some time to mull it over because, right now, you have a poodle to find.”

Part Two will be up later today. :)

@choicesficwriterscreations

[mariemarieohcontrary]

And if my first post for the new year is a redo of my original lineup to fit the MCs per category? What then dfougsufgsf

Again this is inspired by @cassiopeiacorvus' lineup which just seems to grow more mad respect to you omgg

I'll also do my best to explain the character design and body language I used since this is how they appear at the start of their stories!

Evangeline Marie G. (Guzman) Lakandula

I went with this very conservative style due to her being raised very sheltered and when she was younger her family always put value to how they appeared to the rest of the clan and I really wanted to make sure that it's clear that it stuck with her even after she ran away from her father and sister

White is meant to be this colour of purity but it also makes it less hot so long as the fabric isn't too thick

Body language is closed off and almost looks like she's trying to always comfort or embrace herself due to a lot of insecurities and a hard childhood

She doesn't mess with her hair at the start as she doesn't see a reason for it nor has the motivation to do anything beyond keeping her hair loose or the occasional ponytail

Flats because it's easier to use a bicycle and also since she doesn't think heels would suit her

The only constant thing I shouldn't forget to keep drawing is the necklace which I now turned into a locket. In there is a photo of her grandparents since it was her grandmother's locket before her death

Kara Urduja D. (Dimasupil) Madlangbayan

Say thank you Metro Manila Film Festival for showing The Kingdom aka a movie about an uncolonised Philippines for giving me some clues on how to work with a modernised take on something like that

So I axed off Rutherland and went with a slightly colonised part of the archipelago that reclaimed its independence before Spain fully sunk its claws into the country. Thus the small country known as Dimaapi was founded. They speak deep Tagalog and have little to no Spanish loan words but they could speak English cause it's necessary

Urduja was named after the Pangasinense princess Urduja/Udaya, and it's a name chosen by their mother to remind them of their worth. In the old stories, Urduja announced she would only marry one who is greater than her in battle and wisdom, so their mother wanted them to settle for no less than that.

Has a complicated relationship with their mother cause it feels more like they're a bargaining chip and prop for their mom's campaigns

Urduja keeps their hair short for management reasons but the first time they cut their hair it was a bit of a scandal since it's like they took away their own pride

They went to Manila once and saw modern barongs and got very fond of it that that's their go-to fashion now

Wears heels cause they like feeling tall

A bit uncomfortable with their role as First Child hence the body language and have a tendency to put their weight on one foot a lot of the time

Maya Chelidonia C. (Caacbay) dela Rosa

They actually sometimes do go on their tiptoes unconsciously, it happens as a way to think over things and they don't even notice. Mafalda learned to just accept it

Wears flats for workplace-appropriate reasons, their go-to is something respectable looking so they could be taken seriously

Ties their hair in a low bun like back in their police days back in the Philippines as something familiar but also practical

No makeup beyond a tinted lip balm their younger sister sent over to stop them from picking their lips

Likes coffee but it's more of like sweet stuff just to stay awake. Prefers Kopiko tho and black forest milktea

Delores Faustina A. (Abad) Hilario

Babie darling girl who's confident in herself and is trying her best in college

Does a lot of volunteer work back at the Philippines and is known by her old school friends to have waded through deep floods to aid very flooded areas during typhoon season

Asked her mom to dye her hair before she went to college

Rings are her comfort item and will wear a lot on different fingers (they're costume rings but it's the feeling of it that's more important)

Likes to wear skirts of varying styles unless she's told to wear pants

Emma Dolores A. (Acda) Dalit

Here's my Freshman MC all grown up and here she dyed her hair a lil bit since she liked the colour and thought it would look good on her

She stopped writing her novels and fairytales after her messy breakup with James, her grandmother's death, her leaving Hartfeld and later on her grandfather's death so she focused more on journalism after a course switch and became a political journalist

She became known as someone who interviewed King James Liam Rhys and Queen Evangeline Marie Lakandula-Rhys for a special interview

Is very work obsessed that she sleeps only four hours despite her siblings' growing concerns

Still wears pinks but stopped with the floral prints

Dyed her hair a deep red brown shade since she thinks she looks good with it

Now wears her grandmother's pink pearl necklace

While she doesn't say it, she still secretly writes short stories but she no longer talks about them

Fell out of touch with Edgar who noticed her stopping in writing

Taglist: @choicesficwriterscreations

[choicesficwriterscreations]

January MC of the Month: Nora Rose

Please welcome January 2024's MC of the Month! Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s MC of the month is…

@inlocusmads's Nora Rose

More below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

The thing I like the best about Nora is how she has a killswitch alternative to any plan she comes up with. Even if it is something as simple as coming up with dinner options. She has this interesting perceptive ability that's akin to playing 4D chess, but at the same time, she has elevator music running in her head.

At the same time, she's sometimes terribly wrong and isn't afraid to acknowledge that. The things she's able to do today - from keeping a level head and a calm composure in the hardest of situations come from her childhood where things were hard, and she had to grow up quite quickly. A lot of times, she'd have to think on her feet, run through options, remember new stuff, and be able to work with her constraints, not just pertinent to her job but in her adulthood as a whole. Her capacity to be able to stand up on her own feet came from so many instances where she couldn't even get off the floor or look straight ahead. 

Nora's also a slow learner but an avid one nonetheless. She was kicked out of so many schools when she was young, mostly because of her not being able to focus properly or standing up to her bullies (something the school calls ‘stirring trouble up’), and it kind of stunted the faith she had in herself. She had to build up an open mind to be able to differentiate between what is good and bad for her. She had to learn how to carve out her own path, despite dealing with so much grief she could never move on from. All of these things stuck to her when she grew up, which made her more aware and sponge-like to gather the mental ammunition needed to face all kinds of problems. 

Nora's far from what she pictured herself to be as a kid, but she's kind of bittersweet about making it this far. Optimistic that if she just doesn't think too much about stuff, the space and time around her would heal even the bloodiest of wounds, but also disappointed she can't deal with things more openly and faster, like in a brawling match. But I'm happy for her, given the circumstances she was in. Nora's always had this ability to chew her way out of things - by hook or by crook. If she can't decode a lock, she'd just give it a slight nudge. If the nudge doesn't work, she'll just straight-up shoot at it and deal with the fallout later. Her main motto is to “just keep going”. 

Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I'd say I took a lot from my experiences growing up and gave them to Nora - dealing with people at school, understanding where she truly “belongs” (before she realized that was a load of bull and she should just stop tunnel-visioning a perfect outcome and instead think about laying down a different road to her path). Nora and I share this trait where we can't sit still, but if something's up, we'd spend hours at the same place, even if it involves doing absolutely nothing. Plus, it takes both of us ages to respond to a message. Nora more than me, for sure, and half the time, she's just bored of the routine email chore (not a good sign in her line of work, but she manages.)

That's where the similarities stop haha.

She's a tough person. She throws a good punch, having undergone a lot of physical training to qualify for her NYPD officer job and more recently, for her private eye job (Mafalda had some strict requirements). She's also a great problem-solver as aforementioned. Besides the usual differences in physicality and all, she doesn't get startled easily - as in, the world could possibly end tomorrow and she'd still be at her desk, responding to a two-year old email. Her self-assurance at that instant (not anytime or anywhere else) but at that very instant is so strong, it is honestly remarkable. 

Nora also enjoys doing things on her own. Whether it be making dinner from scratch, down to the bread-baking, deducing information (without relying on scraping the bowels of the internet) or stitching her clothes if they don't fit her. It was one of the only lessons her mother taught her before she passed. Which is also the reason why she doesn't like frozen food. More on that later. 

What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Vengeance. 

Just kidding. 

It is actually vengeance. I don't know how else to put it. 

Nora's been wronged by a lot of people in her life. From losing her mother because the hospital in charge neglected her to losing her father also because her co-workers neglected him, she went through pretty much the same neglect-arc in school and college. She was always dismissed as a “traumatized kid” half the time and the other half the time, people didn't listen to her when she'd say, for example, report a bully for what they did or critique a faculty member for showing their bias. It resulted in a lot of things that went wrong in her life - from not having a good support system to being an actual orphan when she was barely thirteen. 

This kind of manifested in horrible ways when she was a kid. She suffered from a lot of anger issues and would immediately resort to physical violence if she were confronted. It isn't fair to blame her either, because she was so helpless. She'd wanted someone, just anyone to listen to her - to be there for her. This desire to help her child-self developed well into adulthood. Nora began building back the stability she never had. She's still doing it. She allows herself optimism even when she doesn't believe in anything. She puts her faith in the arbitrary workings of the universe so there's less burden to carry on her shoulders. Even though the things she tells herself aren't all perfect, they would be something her younger self would have appreciated so much. 

Taking revenge for the child in her to rest easy, for the teenage girl in her to find joys in stupid things such as trashy television shows and emo music and for her to be at peace in her own skin without wanting to explode every five minutes has always been her plan ever since she grew up. That and simply because she uses it to feel more proud of what she does. When something isn't getting anywhere, she's like “Yeah well, f it, we'll get it done. A setback ain't shit.” It was always about the “we”. 

Nora is also driven by the motivation to finish something as fast as possible. Everything is like cross-country running to her because she relishes in the satisfaction of getting a chunk of time just to herself right after getting something done. Which means she's either very good at jumping through hoops or crashes and burns. If something takes longer than her intended expectations, she'll drop it in an instant or table it until she gets her motivation back to finish it. It resulted in a lot of half-completed, archived projects but a few she's proud of, including having made her own quilts and bedsheets for the winter. 

This mentality is something she can never get rid of. At school, she was either the best player on her soccer team or the absolute worst. (Hey, at least there's no in-between to her.)

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

She hates frozen food with a burning passion. Being from a Chinese household, her parents, in the few good years they had with her - taught her the importance of a home-cooked meal or just any cooked meal. Nora, being the impressionable naive child she was, caught onto it and developed this visceral hatred for frozen anything. While she digs the convenience, she isn't a fan of how it tastes either - apart from her family values. This seeps into how Nora sees everything. She's the weird survivalist aunt with a shotgun in her closet because her personal goal is to make everything she consumes. From food, down to the clothes she wears or the curtains in her window, everything has to have had her work and hours put into it. 

Nora is also not a fan of people who don't listen first and just yap, yap and yap. This is why she often got into “creative differences” with her co-workers in her precinct. This is also the reason why Mafalda gives Nora full control of the wheel when she isn't there at the Agency, because the fewer people yapping, the happier Nora is and the better she works. 

As for visceral dislikes, boy oh boy does she have a lot:

Starting strong with the NYPD because they suck, point blank, period. She also thinks there's a special place in hell for people who just assume a lot and can get away with baseless accusations. She can understand broken promises - after all, people move on sometimes, and it's hard to keep track of them, but she draws the line at a proper betrayal. Words don't matter much to her, but actions do. Nora also isn't a fan of people who jump to the easiest conclusion just because it's easy. She’s seen a lot in her life not to automatically red-flag them. It’s worse when it comes from authorities, y’know people you’re taught to trust.

Also, people who gate-keep their expertise. She’s come across so many pretentious people who’d rather let an important investigation hit a dead end than worry about spilling their “trade secrets.” Kind of a niche dislike, but if you’re running out of time and your only hope banks on a mystery novelist’s ability to describe what he saw and tell the truth like his characters would have done, you too would be frustrated if he’d rather drink his coffee when he knows he’s purposefully jeopardizing the investigation’s momentum. And that’s just one of her ‘good’ experiences. Nora loathes academia and wouldn’t touch it even with a six-foot pole.

If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

Be blessed with a readable medical textbook so she could diagnose her mother earlier than her doctors ever can (and) get magical surgery skills to revive her dad after he got stabbed. 

She still regrets not being able to do anything because she was “just a kid”.Nora has learned to cope with it, knowing she can't do anything about it but she still has this itching feeling of what if things had turned out for the better. It's this heavy rock she's gonna have to deal with for sometime now. 

Nora has this tricky relationship with her heritage. She isn't a fan of how different she is compared to the rest of her family and how they'd ostracized her after her settling down far from home. She wants to be able to change that aspect but knows it is too late to repair the damage. If she could go back in time and “pick a side,” she wouldn't have to feel the FOMO.

This regret of hers, however, is attributed to her never feeling she belonged somewhere among her family. Someday, she'd have to find her own family, own circle of friends, and culture to build. Someday, she'll learn that she's as valid to celebrate her heritage as her Aunt Mei or Uncle Tommy. That there aren't true extremes to anything there's no “one way” to be something, but until then, she's going to angrily sew back some loose stitches and groan about not being able to speak Cantonese as fluently as her relatives or being a “true” New Yorker. 

Also maybe her hair. (Also it is so hard to draw her hair consistently.) Sometimes it gets in the way. And maybe fix her eyesight without needing contacts or glasses. Automatically give herself 20/20 vision whenever needed and blur her eyes out when she doesn't want to.

What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

It's hard to pick one song, because Nora listens to anything and doesn't really have a music ‘taste’ as long as the song she's listening to has some spunk to it. Something she relates to would be I Talk To The Wind by King Crimson. Combined with the slow pace and the lyrics that basically put her life as a picture, it's a bop.

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?  (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your OC - an acceptance speech. :) )

I've struggled a lot with naming characters before but Nora's was the only time I knew her name wayyy before I could give her a personality. I was like “yep she's Nora, she's definitely one, yep.” and somehow I didn't anticipate how much she'd like, write herself and the story just writing itself. It literally popped into my head as outlandish as it may seem. And somehow that process worked because I don't ever run out of new headcanons to add.

Nora's also the first character I've created a 100k-worded introduction for (which will never see the light of day and is chucked into my files). I honestly expected her to just be fleeting. I'd make up something about her character, and I'd leave it at that, but nope. 

She's the most organized person in the universe. Her clothes never had a chance to get folded since 1999. She is so methodic and yet will pull off stupid shit like kickboxing a door because she doesn't want to open it. Nora is the character to every character but she stops charactering if she's in front of any screen with something playing on it. She can calculate the angle she needs to throw something so it can hit something, but she fails at basic math at the checkout line. She's masterful at cooking up a storm in the kitchen but enters her flop era when she forgets to take her stuff from the oven when the timer beeps.

Honestly, Nora was such a good lesson in writing as well because people are not always black-and-white. Sometimes, their strengths are their weaknesses. Sometimes the things they are chasing after work against their benefit. Maybe their opinions are skewed after all, even though the narrative conditions into believing that they're the Hero character. They should be allowed to be terribly piss-pathetic poor at something before learning to solve the problem, and sometimes it's okay if they're just bad at something if they can improv a way forward.

Plus, she's cool and stuff. Sometimes. 

[spadesofgrass]

tagging this for @choicesmcappreciationweek day 5

a bit about nora's investigative process lol; she is a detective besides following a very expensive, time consuming hobby of seeking vengeance

she doesn't really enjoy solving puzzles so her approach is a lot more trial and error-y, like "what's the dumbest and the most obvious step to getting more information than what we have" & "is it legal". it helps for her to have a ton of info but also not too much enough to cause redundancy.

she tries all kinds of ways - the mafalda way of being methodical, the jimmy way of jumping to conclusions, the thompson way of outsourcing work to lackeys, the tommy way of getting into the thick of the info - one piece at a time and realised nothing works better than keeping it simple

minimize inconvenience, maximize the forage, pick up skills on the go or get really good at making friends. try to move on, ensure nothing is really ever stagnant. write. shit. down. everywhere. adhd is a cruel mistress. she doesn't really step out unless it's important - in situ work is reserved as a last resort option, if she's run out of sources or they're all unreliable.

trial and error sucks because nora is not a patient person. which explains why she tends to work for two or more clients at the same time and get stuff done while the others are in progress.

she definitely has a huge diary with names and phone numbers, lots and lots of hard, handwritten copies of data because she doesn't like trusting a computer guarded by a flimsy line of passcode and four walls. definitely had a habit of recording memos at some point before that hobby died down. laser focused, flops a lot, surprisingly gets through all of it.

[houseofwomn]

Sempervirens

If all else fails, write some letters.

emily rose

teen | wc: 1.1k | cw: mentions of grief

a/n: first drabble of 2024. sorry it took so long. hope you enjoy ♡ banner credits from airidescence

It’s been ten years and I still don’t know where to put all this grief.

Uncle Tommy suggested I see a shrink, so I told him to fuck off. I promised him I’d write these stupid letters instead. Journaling, mindfulness, yoga - all that does nothing for me. This shit better work. Anyways. Here’s a list of things you never got to see.

I stopped playing soccer after a broken ankle - it was gnarly. I remember crying in the hospital all night.

My grades got somewhat better. I graduated high school. Somehow became the youngest person in the city to make the Homicide Division. It’s shit work. The captain is a bit of an ass. Tommy met her at a few holiday parties and it did not go well.

By the way, Tommy misses you too. A few weeks ago, we looked through the attic and found a bunch of old photo albums and VHS tapes. We spent all day looking through them. There was a picture of us sitting on your old couch - the black leather one with all the cigarette butts in the cup holders.

My head hurts writing this. We still have nothing for you. No evidence, no lead. Not any fingerprints. The files don’t have anything. I’m pissed. There has to be something. It’s been ten years without you and all that I have left are some old photos and beat-up jackets.

You need justice. I need answers.

We miss you so much. I’m going to stop writing before I throw up.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 09/10/19

* * * *

I had a fluffernutter sandwich this morning and thought of you.

Don’t know why I love it so much. I probably have a dozen cavities. I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter - so much has happened.

I quit the NYPD, how shocking. I found so much - probably enough to fire every cop in my precinct - but HR turned on me. Dead rats in my lockers. Side eyes from everyone. So I left. I spent two weeks on my ass, bartending at the Drunk Tank until Tommy made me chat with an old friend of his. Mafalda. I think you knew her too. It’s better here, if not way more chaotic. We have a computer guy named Luke, he’s pretty awkward. A bit pretentious. Terrible cook, too. But he lost his mom around the same time I lost you. There’s a forensic analyst named Ruby who stops by. She’s sweet, always reminding me I can talk to her if I need to. We went out for drinks last night and I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

Also, I got rid of that stupid couch you loved. It was all ripped up and probably full of mold. Uncle Tommy and I spent a whole day looking for a new couch. I landed on this velvet green one with some fancy fringe at the bottom. Very bougie, I know.

You know, it’s annoying funny how people enter your life and insist on staying there. His name is Trystan Thorne and you’d love him. Uncle Tommy does, but I think it’s cause he buys him fancy donuts every morning. I wish you could meet him. I barged into his penthouse, beat his ass, and now we’re partners. Isn’t that weird? He’s infuriating, but it’s nice to have him around. Don’t tell him I said that. I told him some stories about you today and it felt so good to talk about everything.

Finally, some good news. We might have something for you. Some mafia leader named Big V. I told Tommy and Mafalda about her and they both think there’s a chance she did it. I hate that it’s taken so long to come up with just one possible lead. But I’d do anything to know what happened to you.

I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you more. I miss you so fucking much. Here’s to fifteen years without you.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 10/08/23

* * * *

It’s been only a few months since my last letter and so much has happened. Trystan was put on trial for a murder he didn’t commit. We had to fly half the team to Drakovia as a hail mary. Ended up playing a lawyer for a few minutes. it was weird.

I messed up so many times. Trystan and I fought over something we both knew the answer to. Sebastyan...Fuck. Vasili is dead. Every time I remember that look in his eye, I want to throw up.

Fuck.

It’s three am and Trystan is sleeping right next to me. He always listens to me talk about you. I keep imagining all the dinners and talks we could’ve had, just the three of us. You could’ve told him all your stupid jokes - like the one about eating a clock.

Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. Tommy told me he had something planned. I bet you ten bucks it’ll be a party at the Drunk Tank. I remember growing up, you guys would spend the entire night decorating the apartment with balloons. I hope Tommy isn’t doing that this year.

You’re here everywhere I go. I was doing laundry earlier and saw one of Tommy’s button-downs that used to be yours. It still smelled like you. I make coffee just the way you did - black. I have your small, round nose.

I hate that your life was taken from me. But I will find you at the end of mine. I love you, Dad. Come visit me sometime? Please.

Always living, Emily Rose 3/31/24

* * * * I’ve missed writing. I wrote this all in a day after I found the most devastating YouTube comment and just had to write something. Also, if you didn’t notice the start of the 2nd letter is a little reference to this fic. Anyway - there’s definitely more writing coming from me soon...Hope you enjoyed this angst xx

Click here for the masterlist of all my works so far! Tags: @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @stars-are-within-me@shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @calisomnia @kyra75 @icarusfallsforever @inlocusmads @tessa-liam

@dutifullynuttywitch @juudaimes-true-form @plathski @cnvrsecupid @im-the-galactic-starfish (let me know if anyone else would like to be added to my perma tag!)

[storyofmychoices]

Veil of Secrets: The Next Chapter

I wish my brain would cooperate so I could write this as a fic, but my writer's block is still being persistent so I'll just share what comes next as bullet points for now!

@choicesbookclub

Callista Rossi

stays in Birchport with Flynn

writes the story of what happened in Birchport

continues as a journalist, writing for the local paper

keeps connections at her old paper in New York and submits high interest pieces to them still

opens a detective / private investigation agency in Birchport (she gets tips from her cousin Lilah Rose and her boss, Mafalda Ginovesi)

kept Agent Kim's contact information, but has yet to take the Bureau up on their offer

Flynn O'Malley

does NOT join the force

takes over as lighthouse keeper after Nikolai leaves

takes over managing the port and helps revitalize the area

helps those working the docks to get the wages and credit they deserve (working with Grant to support the people and causes of the docks)

Birchport Light Investigations

Calli's detective agency

She teased about naming it Mystery Incorporated or the Scooby Doo gang, but Grant reminded her that she might run into some copyright issues. She shrugs and tells him at least she knows a good lawyer!

Flynn helps on cases when he can, especially at night when Calli is running through ideas and theories. He listens and offers his thoughts. He loves seeing how invested she is in the community and that she doesn't see any cause as "too little".

Kate wants to be a detective, but she hasn't quite mastered the art of subtlety yet plus with the baby Calli feels it's not the right time. However, Kate insisted she make the agency's official cupcake flavor: lemon (for light) - blueberry (for the sea) cupcake with vanilla frosting with gold dust and a white chocolate lighthouse

Naomi helps quite a bit when she is off duty and sometimes when she is on duty (🤫 ). She and Calli grow very close through the cases.

Grant doesn't have a lot of time to help, but he offers legal services to Calli for anything she needs to help

Kate O'Malley

opens her bakery

asks Flynn and Calli to be Rachel's godparents

is insanely excited to have Calli as a sister (in law) but teases Calli about that time they made out in college and says they can't do that anymore

turns Sterling Manor into the Birchport Community Retreat, which includes a community garden, a library/reading room, a museum of Birchport wing with the full history of the town on display, a art wing with all the Sterling's pieces on display for the public.

When Miss Harlenay comes back, Kate offers a part of the manor as a bed and breakfast for anyone holding events on the property.

The government seizes a lot of the Sterling's finances, but with what's left over she keeps a modest amount for her daughter and donates the rest to the workers at the docks who's back the town was built on.

Naomi Silverhawk

becomes Chief of Police and cleans up the department

she creates community outreach programs

works closely with Calli at her investigation agency

works closely with DCFS (department children and family services) to make sure the welfare of all children is being monitored and addressed

Grant Emerson

makes Birchport a fair, safe, and enjoyable place to live

helps ensure the true history of Birchport is told + works with Kate to organize the museum piece of the Community Retreat

takes on any cases related to the fall out of the Sterlings and made sure anyone who was mistreated or held back by the Sterlings, got what they deserved

wins the State Senator seat

Flynn teases him that the White House is next but Grant isn't quite ready for that

[mafaldaknows]

Mafalda, the erroneous use of y’all and the reference to the brood of vipers was pretty telling to me. Don’t want to name any names but there’s only one person still alive around these fandom spaces who remembers in that much detail the ss and uses y’all like the wannabe american she desperately wants to be. And I’m gonna bet it’s not a charmie or an armie fan at all lmao.

Unless she still considers herself his fan :D even after all that supposedly happened to her.

Hello, Anon:

Well, bless her heart. 😏🤣

Thanks for your observation. 😏😉🎪🎟️🤡😂

[rosesnink]

Red Threads of Fate (That Binds Us Together) Part One: The World Is a Napkin

Author's Notes

Was I inspired by @thosehallowedhalls 's 30 Days 30 Drabbles to make my own drabbles series? Yes, yes I was. This series won't be a series per se, but rather small drabbles of canon and my own universe with my OC Nerea and her trysts with the Thornes, as well as glimpses with Neera and Trystan, pre and post b1 and 2. I will try to keep them small and simple, but knowing my overperfectionist and wordy self? It'd be hard, lol, I'm recovering from writing +10k word chapters with TCH lol. Enjoy!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

No beta, we die like men and all that jazz

If you wish to be tagged in my COP stuff, let me know!

All Spanish dialogue will be translated at the end of the fic

Summary: Trystan's curiosity gets the better of her... and Neera

Word Count: 1.1k

Category: Pining idiots, mild jealousy

Pairing: F!Trystan x F!MC (Neera Rose) mentions of Vasili Thorne x F!OC & Sebastyan x F!OC (Nerea Rose)

Rating: PG-13

Book: Crimes of Passion

Princess Trystan had noticed two things about Neera when collaborating with Ginovesi Agency: one, she depended too much on cheap ‘migas’ and noodles to eat, and always smiled up when the name ‘Nere <3’ showed up on her phone, which irritated Trystan in a way she was yet to describe.

She always walked away and talked for very long minutes with her. She didn’t know who this Nere was, but she disliked her, and she couldn’t quite place why. She hogged all of Neera’s attention, and had not once showed up to the office.

“So,” she asked Luke, who was tying some complicated computer stuff “who is Nere? Is she Neera’s girlfriend or something?”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turned his gaze to her and looked at the princess like she had just turned blue “Her what now?”

“I mean, she smiles like an idiot when she calls, talk for hours with her and I haven’t met her yet.”

Luke blinked “And you think, just with those facts, that she’s her girlfriend?”

Trystan shrugged, trying to hide her burning jealousy “Isn’t she?”

“No!”

“Then what is she?”

A familiar voice called “Her cousin, to whom she considers a sister.” Trystan turned around to see Mafalda Ginovesi, staring at her gravely “And if Detective Rose were to date someone, it is none of our business, Your Highness. But, if you do consider it your business, then quit beating around the bush. Neera’s smart for clues and deductions, but for dating? She’s as clueless as a cloud.”

Trystan simply nodded. She felt terribly embarrassed, not only by her jealous assumptions, but of how called out she felt. “Got it, boss.”

“Good. Speaking of Detective Rose, she ought to be here soon. Do try to wash off your jealousy while you’re at it, perhaps by browsing at the clues gathered so far.”

Wanting nothing more than to stop being called out, she pretended to browse over the evidence. She found it impossible, for Neera’s fragrance was present in the office: leather, cherry and cheap Red bull. Waiting for Luke to be lost in his computer again, she browsed through her photos: one with her father, who was rather handsome, a beautiful woman with a pregnant belly, taken in the early 90s –Neera’s mother, she supposed—and two teenagers from the 00s posing and smiling wide- It was certainly Neera, and whom she supposed was Nerea: they looked alike, although Nerea’s skin was a bit more tanned than brown like Neera’s, had a sweeter face and a very long, wavy dark brown hair.

Then, it came to her as lightning; she had seen this woman before, somewhere. She quickly whipped out her phone and searched ‘Nerea Rose’. There it was. An academic genius all over the US and Europe: tons of academic credits and titles in Europe, endless essays that were too long for Trystan’s tastes, her Pictagram account, photos with friends, newspapers talking about her… and photos smiling and chatting with two of her brothers: Vasili and Sebastyan.

Not being able to help it, she started reading the articles: she and Vasili seemed like they were a thing, holding hands and some kisses on her hand and his cheek, and then what it seemed like a photo of her confronting him. The same with Sebastyan, but those photos of them being close reeked intense-ness, a very Bas-esque behavior. Then, a photo of her that looked like she was confronting him, and then, they seemed to move on to someone else.

It seemed like she just continued with her life, and quickly whipped out their Picta accounts. Indeed, thenerearosex_. followed them both and seemed to like every photo, though no comment whatsoever. She wondered if Neera knew. Or Luke.

“Morning,” Neera greeted. She stopped when she saw Trystan hovering over her desk, glued to her phone “Uhm, Trystan?” She broke out of her trance “The hell are you doing in my desk?”

She cleared her throat “That your parents? I see where you get your looks, Detective.”

Neera simply glared “Get out of there before I move you.”

She held her hands up “Oh, fine. What do we have today?”

Neera flatly declared “Since we got demoted from the Dormer case, we are retaking possible cheaters.”

Trystan smirked “We?”

Neera took a deep breath “The possible dirtbag is a socialite. I’m taking you because you’re, well, useful. Don’t make me throw you out of the car.”

“That’d be treason.” She mocked.

“I’ll live. Pick your drink of choice and let’s go.”

After a few silent ten minutes, Trystan spoke up “You never told me you had a cousin. Sister? Sister-cousin?”

Neera raised her eyebrow “Who told you?”

“Mafalda,” she tried to sound casual “I Googled her. Seems nice.”

Her expression softened “She is the best of us. If someone deserves to thrive in Europe, it’s her.”

Trystan cleared her throat, slowing down in case this backfired. “I also saw an interesting thing about her when Googling her.”

“And what is that? My sister does many things that gets on the Google page.”

Time to brace for impact “I’ve seen a… few photos of her with two of my brothers. They seemed… close.”

Neera froze. She looked at Trystan like she had just said that the sun was a planet and it revolved around earth.

“Que mi hermana ¿qué?”

Trystan wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but the vermin and anger in her eyes made her park the car on the side of the road.

“It seems that she dated two of my brothers.”

“No.” She spat.

“It seems likely.”

“Lies. Slander!”

“You don’t know that.”

“My sister’s far too smart for your lot.”

Trystan was shocked at her denial “Now that’s a bit—,” Aaaaand she was calling Nerea. She picked up, despite being probably 4 a.m. there “Nere, did I wake you?”

“Kinda. What’s up, Neera?”

“Is it true?” She asked brusquely “That you dated two Thorne princes?”

Her voice was hoarse and confused “Why?”

“You admit it?!”

“Nina, no grites, que son las cinco de la mañana.” She moaned.

“Nina?” Trystan asked.

“Tú callada.” Neera hissed.

“Nina, it was a long time ago. Besides, why do you care? We’re the same age, I can date whoever I want.”

“I just—,”

“I’m going back to bed. And Neera’s friend, perhaps try to calm her down? Sorry about that. Night, Nina.”

She hung up, and Neera grunted. Trystan observed her closely “Would it be so terrible, your sister dating one of my brothers?”

“Yes!” She yelled.

“Why?”

“Because! Because…” She looked at Trystan intensely. The air was thick with tension, and Trystan almost saw longing in Neera’s eyes. They looked at each other’s lip for a nanosecond that flew by too fast “Doesn’t matter. Let’s deal with this cheating dirtbag, hm?”

“Okay…” She was so calling Vasili asking for details later. Neera’s sister seemed like quite the character if she could command the attention of Vasili and Bas.

“Que mi hermana ¿qué?” - My sister what?

Nina, no grites, que son las cinco de la mañana - Nina, don't scream, it's 5 a.m.

Tú callada- You shut up

[rosie-love98]

Hallows Or Crows?:

This is for a fic series where the "Harry Potter" films share the same universe as the 1998 "Worst Witch" series. As part of the series, it may reveal that, through Molly's Squib Second-Cousin, (let's call him "Benvolio Prewett"), the Weasleys are related to either Ethel Hallow and her sisters or Clarice Crow (the friend of Sybil Hallow).

Here's Choice 1: The Hallows--

As a Squib, Benvolio Prewett would work in the Muggle World as an accountant/stockbroker. Then, in the 1960's, he'd marry a lovely woman by the name of "Bernadette". Yet, Benvolio would soon reaize that Bernadette was a witch of the Ex-Codice ("Worst Witch" wizards) breed. The two would then have a daughter, Mafalda who, with her "Slytherin-Like" traits, would marry a wizard; Otis Hallow of the wealthy Hallow family. Together, they would have three daughters; Ethel, Sybil and Mona ranging from 1986-1994.

Choice 2: The Crow--

Benvolio Prewett would marry the Ex-Codice witch, Clarissa and have Mafalda as their daughter. Mafalda would later marry a wizard called "Lucas Crow" with Clarice being the product of the union.

With this in mind, which would be a better fit?

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

Colleagues greet him, and he summons a token smile. People whisper; he pretends not to notice

Seven o’clock on a wind-swept Monday, and Oliver joins the snaking queue for the Artisan coffee place on the corner of Amsterdam. 

Orders an Americano from the blue-haired barista with a bitter sense of irony, then ignores the longing for a Moka pot espresso the way Mafalda taught him to brew it.

Strong. 

Black.

A light sprinkle of sugar. 

Traditional to the core.

From there it’s mere minutes to Columbia’s bustling campus: an early-morning Ontology lecture with twenty-three hungover Freshmen.

It goes as well as expected, and the bell, when it rings, is a blessed relief to them all. 

He takes his time reorganising the contents of his leather satchel.

Watches the gun-metal raindrops batter the atrium windows. 

Scales the stairs to his third-floor office with a particularly heavy gait; thoroughly encumbered by the weight of his self-imposed armour.

Colleagues greet him, and he summons a token smile. 

People whisper; he pretends not to notice. 

It gets easier, then - as the door latches behind him - to shuck the social niceties, so he sits at his cluttered desk and pulls out his daily planner: considering the finer details of the lavish wedding ceremony now barrelling down upon him.

The hotel accommodations in Micol’s hometown, for starters.

The kosher wine list recommended by the caterers.

The unsent invitation addressed to his mentor he’s still too guilt-stricken to -

No.

None of that.

Needs must when the devil drives, so he straightens his fiancée’s picture, instead.

Remembers the twinkle of dark green eyes as she laughs.

The fire as she challenges him.

The zest when he argues back.

And he tells himself that it’s enough.

That he loves her enough.

That one day he’ll love her properly, if he just tries harder to forget.

To fight the voice that whispers his name: the soft, Italian accent that calls him by another.

To stay strong in his decision. 

For Elio, who needs to grow into his own person: to live his own experiences. 

To smother the longing that burns inside him; even when it twists and chokes.

To bury it deep. 

To cover it over.

To build his walls so strong and impenetrable the truth cannot be found.

Because midnight, he knows, was a fairytale in the making. And Oliver? He’s the one who needs to grow up. 

[peonierose]

Thank you @aallotarenunelma for tagging me in WIP Friday. I have so many WIPs I could probably fill out 365 days well 366 days this year 🥰 So I’ll share some of my current WIPs with you.

Peppermint Kisses

Book: Crimes of Passion

Pairing: Rose De Luca x Trystan Thorne

“Cheer up Rosa. We’re trying to have fun. You do remember what fun is, right?“ Trystan grins and I give him an evil glare. Mafalda, Luke, Ruby and uncle Tommy snicker from the side.

“She actually doesn’t know what that word means. It’s not in her vocabulary.“ Luke teases. I take a marshmallow out of my mug and throw it at him. It hits him square in the face.

“Ugh. Gross.“ He rubs his cheek and we all laugh.

“There’s more where that came from.“ I taunt him and his dark brown eyes widen behind his black rimmed glasses.

Dear John - Part 1

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Keiki Lahela x Koa Haulani

“What are these? They must be really old. And look, they're dated back from the 1940s. That’s during Pearl Harbor.“ She shudders. I pull her closer until she almost sits in my lap. She instantly relaxes.

“Where did you say you found these letters?“ I ask her and she picks another letter out of the pile.

“I found the letters down at Waikiki beach. They were hidden in the sand.“

“Damn Keiki, that's really cool. These letters date back a long time ago. Does it say anywhere who wrote the letters?“ I ask her and she opens up a letter and turns it over.

“Someone named Joy. No last name. She wrote it to the guy she loved. His name is John.“ She turns the letter over again.

We read the letter together, though it almost feels wrong to read lines in a love letter that wasn’t really meant for our eyes.

You make me see in colors

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Luna Auclair x Bryce Lahela

”With the power vested in me I now pronounce you as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride. But please don’t turn it into a make out session. That would make for a very awkward scene. Just saying.“

Lunes and I grin.

I take Lunes' face into my hands and kiss her. It feels as if we’re kissing for the first time. Her lips faintly taste like grapefruit.

I smile against her lips. Not wanting the kiss to end.

Sky turns towards everyone.

”I represent to you Mr. and Mrs. Lahela.“

Las hijas de Luna

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Luna Auclair x Bryce Lahela

”Okay that’s good Lu. That’s good. Just keep pushing.“ Meilani says in a soothing voice.

I get to Luna’s side.

Luna shoots me an angry look.

”Where the fuck were you B?“

I wince and then I smile at her for using a curse word.

”Let’s leave story time for after you’ve given birth. What’s important is that I’m here.“

”I’m going to kick your ass for this later.“

I grin and kiss her forehead.

”I wouldn’t have it any other way.“

Meilani grins and her head nurse Valerie standing next to Meilani, keeping track of the heart monitor.

Meilanis voice gets me out of my trance.

”Dad? Wanna do the honors?“

I squeeze Luna‘s hand and stand in the front to catch the first baby.

As I do, a loud cry fills the room and I suddenly hold one of my girls in my arms.

Valerie smiles next to me.

I look at my little girl, and a whole new love enters my heart. I wasn’t prepared for this feeling.

It’s as if my heart is going to burst from all this love. Making space for new people entering my life. I still can’t believe Luna and I created these beautiful babies.

I take my daughter's little hand in mine and kiss it.

”Hi there, beautiful. Look at you being all pretty huh?“

Valerie keeps sniffing.

”A new member in your Ohana.“

I nod and keep rocking the baby and when she opens her eyes she looks at me and stops crying.

”It’s your awesome dad. So cool right? Look at your mom. Super strong and going at it.“

I’d love to see what you are working on if you’d like to share (no pressure):

And anyone else is welcome to join and share 🩷🩷🩷🩷

@inlocusmads @jerzwriter @the-pale-goddess @trappedinfanfiction @storyofmychoices @noesapphic @cariantha @cadybear420 @rosepetals1 @lilyoffandoms @aria-ashryver @zealouscanonindeer @kristinamae093 @amortentiaopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @surrrenderronniebabe1 @a-cloud-for-dreams

[fipindustries]

Mafalda... Now that's a name I have not heard in some time!

Well her face is literally in txtxlltale avatar 24/7 so im sure you see her on the regular

[zhoras-bitch]

My Playchoices MCs #9

This girl is definitely one of my all time favourite MCs, she's so mean and it's so fucking funny. Also she and Trystan fit one of my favourite ship dynamics to a T. Needless to say, I'm delighted to have this book back. I also had a blast making her outfit because the canon ones were just too well put together for the character I envisioned. My headcanons under the cut.

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One thing I want to make absolutely clear about Isolde is that she looks like kind of a mess. Her wardrobe consists of a bunch of metal band tees and two pairs of jeans she bought 10 years ago, she sleeps like 5 hours a day and her go-to breakfast is a cup of back coffee with self-loathing on the side. And it shows.

It's actually a running joke between her friends that she not just lives above a bar, she looks like someone who lives above a bar. This look is actually her trying to be kinda fancy for her first day working with Trystan because that red jacket is the nicest thing she owns.

And yes, Trystan looked at this human personification of a stray cat and thought, damn that's hot.

Her bun is secured with bobby pins, which is handy cause she can definitely pick a lock with one of those.

Her dad was German American and her mom was Italian American. Her middle name, Carmen, is her mother's. She was a very warm, open, social person from a big tight-knit family. Unfortunately, Isolde barely remembers her.

People assume Isolde got her scar when she was working for the police or something badass like that, but in reality the story behind it is the most trivial shit imaginable. But she wouldn't tell you that.

Says the funniest, most sarcastic shit imaginable with the most serious expression.

She's very skilled in hand-to-hand combat thanks to doing kickboxing since she was a kid. I picked kickboxing specifically because I imagine her fighting style to be fast, aggressive and involving a lot of punches. She loves punching stuff.

Bisexual but she’d primarily dated women in the past. And since she doesn’t talk about herself like, ever, people often just assume she is a lesbian based on her dating history. I imagine there's a funny moment when Luke realises Isolde and Trystan are actually a thing cause he's like. Wait, you're into guys too? And Isolde is like, always have been (but on the inside she’s lowkey just as surprised as Luke cause her last date with a guy was in high school).

When Isolde meets Trystan, she's at a very low point in her life. She's kinda lost track of who she is and buried herself in her work. Until Trystan's authenticity, spontaneity and resolution to do the right thing awaken something in her. He reminds her of who she was, who she still could be. Unfortunately, Isolde would rather eat her entire fist than open up about her emotions, so it takes her a lot of time to admit that not only does she enjoy Trystan's company, they are also alike in a lot of ways.

After Trystan finally wears her down, Isolde's chaotic, playful, almost juvenile side starts to show again, much to the surprise of everyone around her. Mafalda is kinda terrified by this cause Isolde was already a handful to deal with, that with her disrespect towards the police and all. Like, wtf Thorne, you made her worse! But really, he's just awoken a part of her that’s always been there.

Book 2 is when this part of her is going to come out more and more. I imagine she's gonna surprise Trystan more than once, much to his delight.