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getthesamovarready · 4 years ago

Text

First Sight

Owen x Michelle

@ana122892 had the idea of Owen and Michelle meeting in a bar the night before their first shift... so here it is!

also on ao3

Chapter 1: nice to meet you

He's sitting at the bar, turning his now empty glass in his hand when someone appears in the space next to him. Shifting over to allow them more room, he thinks nothing of it, and is about to signal the bartender when the person starts to speak. "Hey Chris!" She calls, and Owen's head snaps up. "Can I get a double?" He tries not to let her notice him while he tries to get a good look at the woman next to him, her turned head denying him a glimpse of her face. The bartender, Chris he guesses, lifts his hand in a wave, before confirming her order.

He can't see her face, but he knows enough to know that she's gorgeous. He knew that even before he saw her, saw her hair falling down her back, saw her fingers lacing together on the countertop. He knew it when her voice washed over him in a wave, shocking his system and sending him straightening in his stool.

He takes out his phone, pretending to scroll while he watches her wait on her drink, watches her thumb trace patterns in the back of her hand. His own need of a fresh drink is totally forgotten in his focus on the presence beside him. She starts to look around herself, and his eyes snap firmly to his phone when he sees her head turn to his side.

He can feel her eyes linger on him for a moment, and he almost opens his mouth to talk to her, when Chris sets her drink in front of her. "Ya'll back soon I hear?" Chris asks her, and Owen's interest is piqued.

"We'll be causing trouble again in no time, I'm sure." She replies with a weak, but affectionate, smile in her voice. Owen can hear it even without looking at her, and he so wants to see it.

"You make sure to bring them round, Michelle. I wanna meet em." He tells her, before turning to attend another customer. The woman, Michelle, lets out a heavy sigh, drooping onto the counter as she lifts her drink.

"So you come here often?" Owen asks, before cursing himself for not thinking of something better. The woman stiffens, turning to him slowly with a confused, concerned, and slightly amused frown. And she is... Stunning.

"What gave it away?" Blue eyes pierce him, and her lips draw into the most attractive smirk he has ever seen. "The bartender knowing me by name?" She cocks her head at him. "Or are you just a really bad flirt?" She looks him up and down, and he nearly shudders.

"I'm gonna go with both." He admits, after a moment of floundering. She nods at him, eyes narrowing. He can't seem to hold his tongue under her gaze. "I was curious." He starts, stomach tightening. "And it was a conversation starter. A bad, clichéd one, I'll admit." Her brow furrows, and it feels like a challenge. "And I would really like to try again." He flushes, before nodding at her. "Hi, I'm Owen." He holds out a hand, and she examines it for a moment.

"Michelle." She offers, still frowning. "But you already knew that." She smirks at him again. It pricks at his skin, making him want to squirm under her gaze.

He shakes it off before he speaks. "So what has you sighing into a double tequila?" He asks casually, finally summoning the bartender to order another drink.

She drops her head for a moment before answering. "I'll tell you, if you tell me why you're alone in a bar…" She looks him up and down again. "A long way from home?"

He doesn't ask how she knows that, just laughs a little before answering. "I start a new job tomorrow, I guess I'm pretty nervous." He takes his drink gratefully from Chris. "Your turn." He sips.

"Same as you I guess." She shrugs. "But I suppose it's not a new job. Same job as before. But it's different now, everything's gonna be so...different." Her eyes dim their sparkle. "So here I am." He gestures around the bar. "Pretending it's not different." In reality, it's not the kind of bar she'd normally go to on her own, but it felt like the right place to come tonight.

Owen watches as she tries to bring back the light tension from before she answered his question. "Ah, we have something in common." He offers with a smile, raising his glass to her. "To new jobs." He toasts, chest blooming with light when it earns him an actual smile. "You've got a good eye." He tells her when he's sipped his drink. "How did you know I'm a long way from home?" She actually laughs at him, a twinkling thing that dances around her before it fully reaches him, pulling him to lean towards her.

"It's just...really obvious." She smiles apologetically. "Sorry if you were trying to blend in. It's everything about you really." He just looks at her questioningly, before looking at himself, pressing her to elaborate. "Your clothes are too tight." She starts. "Not like...too tight, too tight, just like...not loose." Even in the low light she blushes, her eyes tracing his biceps. "The way you were sitting." He blushes at how tense he was when she appeared next to him. "You just look a little out of place, that's all." She brushes it off, as though she's worried she has offended him.

"I'm definitely out of place." He looks around at cowboy hats and flannel. He looks back at her. "It's not so bad now though." He quirks his eyebrows, and she shakes her head with a blush. "You though, you're right at home." He smiles at her. "Something tells me you're just the kind of friend a guy wants when he's new in town." It's forward, and he worries himself for a moment before she leans back on the counter, smiling.

"Ah, you want a tour guide." She muses. "Someone to show you around town." She clasps her hands in front of her, examining him, as though she's considering what he might actually mean.

So he clarifies. "I'm sure you know all the best places in town." He leans towards her, cocking his head to the door. And she understands, nodding.

She glances towards the door herself, before delaying. "You don't know me," she points out. She signals Chris for two more drinks. "And I don't know you." She says it with a smirk, leaning towards him now.

"What do you want to know?" He asks her, taking a swig of his fresh drink.

"Anything." She shrugs, finally settling on the stool next to her. He tells her about New York, skimming over the details of his life, and focusing instead on his places, his apartment, his street, his favourite cafes. He doesn't let her know him at all really, but he knows all she wants is to pretend she does.

She does the same. She tells him about Austin. Where she grew up, where she moved, where she drinks when she isn't here. He knows he doesn't know her, but he knows she doesn't want him to.

He doesn't ask her about her work, which she is obviously trying not to think about, and she doesn't ask him about his. Eventually, he tells her a joke and she leans forward as she laughs, steadying herself with a hand on his thigh. She doesn't move it.

So he tells her a story of his drunken 20s with her hand on his thigh, tingling as he desperately tries to focus on anything else. Preferably something that isn't her eyes. But they are difficult to ignore.

Which is how he catches the moment she decides to take his hand, lacing her fingers with his. She doesn't say anything as she picks up her bag, standing from her stool. He doesn't say anything while he follows her.

Neither of them say anything when they step outside, or while he turns her to face him, or before he takes her by the back of the neck, kissing her fiercely against the wall of the bar. He's been desperate to do it since she first started to speak, and his skin tingles when she responds to him, a slight whimper rising in her throat. "I've wanted to do that all night." He admits, breaking away from her. She nods, forehead resting on his.

"You want to start your tour of Austin?" She asks him with the tiniest of grins. He nods, releasing her to call a taxi, which she manages even with his arm sneaking around her waist.

They keep their hands, mostly, to themselves in the taxi. Her hand rests apparently innocently on his thigh, while his traces light circles on her shoulder and they try their best not to embarrass the poor driver.

Neither of them show any such restraint when they arrive on her porch and the taxi is gone, and she barely has the door unlocked before she's tugging him inside and slamming it shut behind them.

Later, she lies staring at the ceiling, brow furrowed. He can see the cogs turning in her head, and he starts to worry about everything he's done tonight. "Fuck." She whispers under her breath, the heel of her hand coming up to press on her forehead. "What the fuck did I just do?" She asks the air, and he pulls himself further away from her. She jolts and the movement, immediately reaching her hand out in apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that I just…" She sighs, sitting up, taking bedsheets with her in some imitation of modesty. "I don't do this. Ever. And I've been really… it doesn't matter. I'm sorry." She squeezes his bicep before pulling away from him, her hands dropping to twist together in her lap. "I keep doing stupid things." She tells them, squeezing her fingers together. "Carlos is gonna go crazy."

Carlos? Owen panics, if this woman has a partner this just went from amazing, to awkward, to horrible really fast. "He's had to arrest me fourteen times and now I've taken a total stranger into my house." She drops her head, bringing a hand up to catch it. "I'm supposed to be the smart one. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"You've been arrested fourteen times?" It mustn't be for anything serious, but he does wish he'd known this before she took him home. He assumes Carlos isn't a partner, but maybe a friend, or a relative. So he's left not with adultery, but run-of-the-mill bad decisions. So he tries to relieve the tension. "Not to pry, but how does that even happen?"

"A lot has happened." She offers, wiping at her eyes. "I'm so sorry Owen, I shouldn't have…" She's not really sure what she shouldn't have done. She probably shouldn't have taken him home, but that's not what she wanted to say. Shouldn't have reacted like this, probably. "You should go." That's not right. "I mean, you don't have to stay, and listen to me ruin the night."

"Nah." He smiles, settling back on the pillows. "I can't leave a woman's bed while she's upset, what kind of guy would that make me?" He grins at her, and she manages a weak chuckle. "Besides, I could probably help. I know a thing or two about regrets. I've been married twice." Regrets aplenty there. Especially the second time. He doesn't like to think about the second time. "This stuff that's happened? You can tell me about it if you want? No harm in telling a stranger."

She hesitates, as though she wants to take him up on his offer before she shakes her head. "Okay." He concedes. "Can I tell you my thing though? Cos I've got a thing, that I haven't told anybody about. And you seem nice." She flushes, she had certainly seemed nice half an hour ago, moaning beneath him. She pushes the thought away, and settles back next to him with a nod. "I've got cancer." She jolts beside him, concern radiating off her. "It's not serious, it should be totally fine." He waves her off. "But I haven't told my son yet." He has a son? She shifts again, now knowing too much about the man next to her. "Or my new boss. I took this new job down here because my son needed to get out of New York. And now I'm scared, because I brought him here with this secret, and now I don't know how to tell him." Even telling her, this total stranger, sends a rush of nerves through him, making his whole body tremble next to her, and she lays a soothing hand on his arm. She rubs her hand up and down his arm until he stops shaking.

Behind him, she watches the clock on the table flick over to midnight, and her chest tightens. "It's my sister's birthday." She chokes out, her eyes screwing shut to force back the tears threatening to break through them. "She's been missing." She explains, and it's his turn to be concerned, his hand reaching out to grasp hers. "For almost three years. Her boyfriend," she scoffs, her lips almost turning to a weak smile. "He has a restraining order against me. That's why I keep getting arrested." He nods understandingly, the tiniest hint of amusement pulling at his cheeks.

"I'm sorry." He offers weakly, unsure what else to say. His health seems so trivial, so easily fixed. Even withholding the truth from TK has such a simple solution. But Michelle? There's no easy way out for Michelle, if there is a way out at all.

"It's not your fault." She shrugs, biting her lip. "I'm sorry about you too." She offers, and it lingers in the air.

His chest tightens, something pulling at it, and he knows that he can't walk away from her now. A beautiful woman from a bar? Yes, he could move on from her, with a memory to smile about. But her? This woman, the first one to hear about its cancer. This woman who offers no advice, only comfort. Whose own troubles are so devastating behind her smile. This woman he couldn't walk away from. So he leans up to kiss her softly, and she stares at him dumbly when he pulls away.

"See?" He smiles at her, unable to contain the light fluttering in his chest. "The night isn't ruined." She smiles down at him, sighing before she lets herself lie down next to him. He takes her hand in his, squeezing lightly. "You doing anything for your sister's birthday?" He asks casually. As though she would be able to take the woman out for a drink.

"I don't know." She shrugs. "I'm working till late. Maybe I'll have a drink for her after, I don't know." It actually lightens her chest, the thought of celebrating for Iris. "Maybe I will." She stares at the ceiling with a tiny smile, her thumb stroking his hand. "You should tell your son." She turns to him. "You should tell him before something happens. You need someone to know."

He nods. "Thank you." He whispers, and she leans in to kiss him. It isn't the rushed, delirium from before. But she hooks a leg over him, moving to straddle his waist, and it is a slow desperation that he lets himself reciprocate.

It's early, but probably not early enough for Owen's son to not wonder where he spent the night. "I probably shouldn't have stayed till morning." He sighs, eyeing the dim sunrise. She hums from the bed, not opening her eyes. "TK will never let me live it down if he catches me sneaking in."

Her stomach rolls at the new information. It must be short for something, but even this half-identity presses her to ask more about him. "So, TK?" She starts, rolling to face him. "Tell me about him. How old is he?" She's imagining a young teen, too street-wise for his age, in need of some access to the countryside, while still having the familiarities of the city. So Owen's answer shocks her. "Twenty six? Twenty...so he's...an adult?"

"Well yeah." Owen chuckles. "Pretty sure twenty-six is an adult. But he makes me question that constantly." She doesn't dare ask how old he is, but she knows it must be considerably older than she first thought. She hopes to God that he was born when Owen was young, but either way he must be easily ten years older than she is.

"Kids always seem like kids." She laughs awkwardly. "No matter how old they get. Iris is ten years younger then I am." She laughs properly now. "She's always seemed like such a kid."

"Wow, some age gap." He tugs his shirt over his head.

"My parents were really young when they had me." She tells him, sitting up in her bed. She eyes him, his back turned to her. He drops his head back with a sigh.

"Oh, that's tough, I was twenty-two when we had TK." She lets out a tiny, relieved sigh. Not too huge an age gap, maybe Carlos won't absolutely kill her when he finds out about this. Because Carlos always finds out.

Owen drops onto the bed, shoes in hand. It occurs to her that it would be rude to make him walk himself out of her home in the early hours of the morning, so she slips out of bed, grabbing the robe hanging on the bathroom door. She doesn't settle back on the bed, but stands, leaning against the wardrobe, watching him put on his shoes.

Something in her stomach drops when she hears the taxi pull into the driveway. But she shakes it loose before he turns his head to smile at her. “I guess that’s my ride.” She nods silently, following him when he makes to leave her room.

He stops at her front door, and she waits behind him for him to turn around to her. She can’t help the smirk playing at her lips. He doesn’t want to leave yet. But he has to, so he turns back to her.

“Thank you.” He steps towards her. “For last night, for everything.” His hand brushes at her arm lightly.

She grins, blushing. “Welcome to Texas, Owen.” She chuckles, leaning to kiss him softly before she leads him to the door.

#michelle x owen #owelle #michelle blake #Owen Strand #911 lonestar

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waste-the-nite · 6 years ago

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You over anyone

Ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556756

Matteo understood the concepts of soulmates, he understood why people were excited to meet the person they were destined to end up with. He also understood that you didn’t have to live the rest of your life with your soulmate, but most chose to. What Matteo didn’t understand is how you could date a person for months or years, find out who your soulmate is and leave the person you were dating for them. He didn’t understand how you could love someone and leave them for another person just because a name on your wrist appears. He didn’t understand why his dad left his mom because another woman’s name, Heidi Wagner, appeared on his wrist.

When Matteo was fourteen, he met David, it was Carlos birthday party. Most of their classmates were there, some of Carlos family, and a few other friends he had that didn’t go to school with them. He had known Carlos for a while, through Jonas really. As much fun as the part was, Matteo got bored very fast, it didn’t help that the only thing Jonas, Carlos and Abdi were talking about were girls. Apparently, Jonas and Carlos have a double date they were going on tomorrow, with Kiki and Hanna, two girls he sorts of considered his friends. Honestly, Matteo wasn’t even sure if he liked girls, at least not the way Jonas and the guys did. Don’t get him wrong, girls were cute and nice, but so were boys. But Matteo was only fourteen he didn’t have to figure it all out right now.

He had gone outside to the backyard, there was a swing set there for Carlos younger siblings. Matteo sat down on one of the seats, pushing himself back and forth lightly with his feet. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he opened one of the many game apps he had and started playing it. He had been so into the game he didn’t hear the footsteps that were walking towards him.

“To cool for parties?”

Matteo looked up, almost dropping his phone from the surprise of another person being out here. A boy stood in front of him, in a black jacket and a dark blue beanie covering his hair. The boy raised an eyebrow, making Matteo realize he hadn’t responded yet.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Just got bored of hearing my friends talk about their date tomorrow”

“Oh, so you’re jealous then” The boy said, sitting down in the swing next to Matteo

“It’s more that I’d rather have a conversation with someone that didn’t focus on girls all the time”

Matteo wasn’t sure why he was telling this boy that he didn’t want to talk about girls. The boy next to him probably did want to talk about girls. He didn’t even know the boy. Who was he and how did he know Carlos? More importantly why was he out here talking to Matteo when there was a party full of people inside?

“Well why don’t you talk to them about something else?” He asked, “Maybe they’re tired of talking about girls too, you just don’t know it”

Matteo snorted, “I doubt it, girls are their favorite topic”

The boy didn’t get a chance to reply, Carlos came out the back door, letting it slam shut behind him.

“Dude there you are we’ve been looking for you everywhere” It was directed at Matteo, “Oh you met David, good I was going to introduce you two at some point tonight”

Carlos started talking to the boy, David, but Matteo wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. He was looking at David, his dark hair curling into the beanie, the way he leaned against the pole of the swing set, and how his eyes keep darting back to Matteo. Carlos didn’t seem to notice, to caught up in telling David something his mom had said. Matteo was really wondering where Carlos had met David.

“- Anyways, my moms about to do the cake in a few minutes so you guys should come inside” Carlos said, turning to walk back to the house, not bothering on waiting for them.

Matteo looked back at David, who was already looking at him with a small smile, “So are you to cool for cake too?” He asked.

“No” Matteo replied; he didn’t move from the swings though.

David tilted his head to the left and began to walk backwards, towards the house, “You know if you ever want to talk to someone about something that isn’t girls, I’m pretty good at keeping a conversation going”

Matteo raised both of his eyebrows, because did David just offer to spend time with him? A boy he just met only ten minutes ago. He’s doesn’t say anything; he wants to say ‘yes’ but the words just don’t come out. Eventually David turned around and walked into the house, Matteo let out a breath. He looked around the yard, empty and dark, he could hear the people in the house start singing to Carlos. Sighing, Matteo stood up and walked to the house, pausing when he got to the back door. Mentally preparing himself for when he goes back into the party, knowing his friends will be asking what girl at the party he thought was cute.

The next time Matteo saw David, he was with Jonas and Carlos, or well he was supposed to be. They had been at the park, Carlos and Jonas only wanted to go so they could see the girls. Matteo knew this but he still allowed them to drag him to the park. So, while they were off somewhere doing who knows what with the girls. Matteo was sitting at a table with his earphones in. Once again, he was playing a game on his phone, he had music playing.

Someone sat across from him, assuming it was one of the guys he didn’t bother looking up. It wasn’t until he was finished with the level of his game that he did. He glanced up, then quickly did a double take. The boy sitting in front of him was not Carlos or Jonas, it was David. David from Carlos party. David who offered to sit and talk to him about anything other than girls. David who Matteo hadn’t seen since the party almost a month ago. Matteo pulled his earphones out when he saw David’s mouth moving.

“Sorry what?” He asked.

David smiled, “I said ‘hey’”

“Oh” Matteo looked down, “Hi”

“I’m David”

“I Know” Matteo looked up, David raised his eyebrow, “I mean I remember you, from the party” David didn’t say anything, just looked at Matteo, “Uh, I’m Matteo”

He smiled again, “I know”

“Oh”

David nodded, looking around the park once before looking back at Matteo, “What’re you doing here?”

“Um Carlos and Jonas wanted to come”

“And, where are they?”

Matteo shrugged, “Not sure, someone with the girl I guess”

“The girls?”

“Hanna and Kiki, the ones they had a date with” Matteo wasn’t sure If David even remember the conversation, they had a month ago, but he nodded like he did.

“They just left you here?” David asked, “Why’d you even come if you knew they were going to be with them?”

“Actually, I left them, watching them attempt to flirt was giving me second hand embarrassment”

Matteo decided not to answer the second question, not wanting to tell David that being the third wheel on their date was better than sitting at home alone.

“Do you think you could do better?”

“Do better at what?”

“Do you think you could flirt better than them?” A small smirk laid on David’s mouth.

They stared at one another, not saying anything. Matteo blinked slowly; eyes concentrated on David’s eyes. Even though they were a dark brown color they sparkled more than Matteo’s blue ones. He had long eyelashes, long ones that brushed against his cheek when he blinked. Matteo’s eyes dropped down to the table, David had a book and a pen in his hand, his fingers had smudges on them.

“Do you draw?” Matteo asked instead of answering his question

“A bit yeah”

“Could I see?”

“I don’t usually show them to people” Before Matteo could tell him it was ok, he said, “But I guess I could show you”

Matteo nodded silently as David put his pen in his bag, opening the book to the first page and handing it to him. He held David’s gaze for a few more seconds before finally looking down at the book. There were many drawings on the pages, some of birds, trees, people. A drawing of David himself, he drew himself with spikey hair and boots.

“These are cool” Matteo said, not able to think of another word for his amazing art, “I like how you draw yourself”

“Thanks” David said softly.

There were a couple of pages stuck together, Matteo picked at them for a second. He looked up at David with his eyebrows furrowed together. Before he could ask why they were stuck together, a hand clapped down on Matteo’s shoulder, making him jump. Jonas sat down next to him, Carlos on the other side next to David. Matteo closed David’s book, placing it down next to him.

“Hey dude why’d you leave?” Jonas asked.

“Yeah, Kiki told Sara you were coming, she showed up and you weren’t there”

Matteo resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Just felt like coming here”

“What’re you doing here?” Carlos asked David.

“I was just out walking around when I ran into Matteo”

“Oh man, Matteo guess what?” Jonas asked, “Carlos and I got another date with the girls, you should ask Sara out and we could all go on a date”

Humming, Matteo shrugged, “Maybe”

“It’s going be great dude”

The conversation shifted from there, Carlos and Jonas talking about where they and the girls should go on their date. Matteo looked over to David, who was already looking at him. He seemed to do that a lot, already looking at Matteo when he looks at David.

“Are you coming?” Carlos asked, Matteo looked away from David, and at Carlos

“Where?”

“Jonas house to play video games” Carlos gave him a weird look

“Oh, um yeah” Matteo said

“Alright, David I’ll see you later, yeah?” Carlos looked over to David, Matteo watched as David nodded.

Jonas and Carlos stood up and began walking away from the table, down the path. Matteo looked down and picked up David’s book. He handed the book over, then stood up from the table.

“I guess I’ll see you” Matteo said.

“Yeah I guess”

Matteo started walking the same direction Jonas and Carlos did, but stopped, turning back to David.

“Do you remember when you said if I ever wanted to talk to someone about anything other than girls?”

“yeah”

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” Matteo asked, David looked surprised.

“Sure” He said, opening his book, taking his pen and writing something down. He ripped the paper out and closed the book.

David stood up and walked over to Matteo, “Here” He put the paper in Matteo’s hand, “Text me when”

Matteo stood there staring at the paper in his hand. David walked down the path going the opposite direction the boys did. Matteo turned and watched as David made his way down the side walk. When he was finally out of sight, Matteo started walking towards Jonas house.

-- “So, soulmates?”

“Yeah?” “How do you feel about them?”

David and Matteo had hung out many times at this point. They go to the park. They listen to music. They ride bikes. They do everything but talk about girls. The first time they hung out it was a bit awkward, mostly because they didn’t know anything about one another other, other an each other’s name. Eventually they got used to each other, learning stuff about the other, David easily became one of Matteo’s best friends.

They were currently on Matteo’s bed, David sitting up back pressed against the wall, Matteo laying on his back looking at the ceiling. Matteo’s mom had been at his aunt’s house, so he had the smart idea to invite David over.

“I don’t know” David said, “I think its weird that someone is destined to you, like you don’t have a say in who you get to be with”

“People don’t always choose their soulmate” Matteo said, even though he didn’t believe it.

“Yeah but then there is probably always doubt in the back of your mind whether or not you’re making the right choice of not choosing your soulmate”

Matteo didn’t say anything. He wondered if his dad thought twice before choosing Heidi over him and his mom. He doubted it, his dad hadn’t even cared when he was born, didn’t bother to show up.

“What about you, what do you think of it?”

Matteo closed his eyes, “I think its complete shit”

“Why?” David asked.

“So many things could go wrong” He sighed, “You could be with someone and find your soulmate, then you’ll have to decide whether you want the person you been with or this random person that’s supposed to be the one for you. Your soulmates could be in love with someone else or they could have died and then what? Then there are those rare cases where someone Is your soulmate but you’re someone else’s soulmate, what the hell is that?”

“You’ve thought about this a lot” David said, Matteo opened his eyes, tilted his head towards David.

“Yeah I had fifteen long years”

“Is that what happened to your parents?”

Matteo pursed his lips and looked back up at the ceiling. He wasn’t expecting David to ask that. No one has ever bothered to ask that. Matteo hardly ever talked about his parents, other than the fact that Matteo’s mom wasn’t always completely there, mentally. Matteo didn’t want to talk about his parents, what happened to them, what his dad did. So, he did what he does best, he ignored the question.

“Do you want to go play video games?” He asked, standing up already walking towards his bedroom door.

David followed him out into the living room, where Matteo’s game system was. He lent against the back of the couch as Matteo went and turned on the tv.

“You don’t have to do that, you know”

Matteo paused, “Do what?”

“Act like you don’t feel or care about things”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Whenever I ask you a question, sometimes they aren’t even personal questions, you ignore it” David moved to sit down on the couch, “You’re allowed to feel things and state your opinions, especially with me”

It was weird, Matteo often found himself wanting to tell David about his parents. But not only about them, about a lot of stuff he has never wanted to tell people. Matteo moved to sit down next to David, staring at him for a moment before leaning back, “My parent got together when they were sixteen, my mom got pregnant with me a few months before she turned eighteen, when she told my dad it was his birthday, he had said he was happy and that he’d support her” He let out a breath, blinking away the tears he could feel forming in his eyes, “He lied, his soulmate was some other lady and he left my mom”

“I’m sorry”

“Yeah well who needs him anyways, I’m perfectly fine without him”

“You can tell me stuff Matteo, you can trust me, I’ll listen if you ever need someone”

“Thanks” Matteo sat up and turned on the game, “But I rather not talk about my parents anymore”

“Okay so we’ll talk about anything else other than your parents” David grabbed the other controller from the table, “And girls”

Matteo couldn’t help but smile at that. He’s only ever told one person what happen with his parents before. But it felt nice for someone else to know, to feel just as confused as he was as to why his dad picked the lady over them. The fact that it was David who he told felt even better, David was easy to talk to, easier than his other friends.

They were at the park, David wanted to come so he could get some inspiration to draw. Matteo just wanted to hang out with David. So, they were back at the table from the second time they met. David drawing and Matteo watching a video on his phone. Matteo found it weird how comforting it was to just be in David’s presence, they weren’t even talking, just enjoying each other’s company.

Matteo looked up at David, he was so concentrated on whatever he was drawing. His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, his hair falling in front of his eyes. His hand moved smoothly and quick along the page, it made Matteo wonder if David was this good at everything he did. David dragged his eyes away from the page, looking over to Matteo. He hadn’t expected Matteo to already be looking at him.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” David asked

Matteo dropped his gaze “Like what?”

“I don’t know, you just had this look on your face”

“There was no look on my face”

“If you say so” David mumbled, looking back down

“What’re you drawing?”

“Nothing”

“Mm, very convincing” Matteo said, “Can I see it?”

“No”

“What, why not?”

“Because its private”

Matteo rolled his eyes, “You always show me your drawings”

“The ones that aren’t private”

That made Matteo frown, he didn’t realize David had private drawings. Ones that David hadn’t shared with him. It made him wonder if there were any other things David didn’t share with him. It also made Matteo kind of self-conscious because of how much of himself he had shared with David.

Sighing David looked back up at him, “Okay fine you can look at it”

Matteo smiled slightly, holding his hands out for the book. David hesitated before placing it in Matteo’s opened hands. Matteo brought it closer to him, turning it around so it was facing the right way. Matteo expected many things, another bird, some artist or filmmaker David liked, or even a random object David found when he was on one of his adventures. What Matteo didn’t expect was to be looking at a drawing of himself. Matteo realized it was of him just a few minutes ago, playing the game on his phone. The drawing was very detailed, the table Matteo had been resting his arms on, Matteo’s hands that were holding his phone.

Matteo looked over to David, who was staring at Matteo, “This is um,” Matteo glanced back down at the drawing, “Amazing”

“it’s okay, I need to work on my hands” David said, placing his chin on his palm.

“Well I think it’s amazing” Matteo mumbled; David gave him a smile.

Matteo would be lying if he said his heart didn’t beat a little faster at David’s smile. He’d also be lying if he said that didn’t freak him out. He could not like David. He was Matteo’s best friend; you’re not supposed to like your best friends. Not only that, Matteo had made it his personal goal not to like or date anyone before he turned eighteen, before he could find out who his soulmate was.

“What’s wrong?” David asked when he saw Matteo mouth fall into a frown

“Nothing” Matteo answered, a little too quickly, “Um, I have to go”

“What, why?”

“I uh, I promised my mom I’d be home by six” Matteo said, giving David his book back.

“Do you want me to walk with you?”

“No” Matteo replied, loudly, “I mean no, it’s ok I’ll see you later”

He turned and started walking to the exit of the park, not giving David a chance to say goodbye. He paused when he made it out of the park and sat down on the bus bench. Placing his head in his hands he let out a breath, you cannot like David, you cannot like David. Matteo groaned as he stood up and began walking in the direction of his house. David’s smile flashed through his head for a second, you cannot like David, repeating over and over in his head.

Matteo is sixteen when he breaks his promise to himself not to date anyone before he knew who his soulmate was. He had been sitting at his desk trying to study for the upcoming test he had. Except everything he was reading was very boring, he kept getting distracted by the notifications pinging on his phone. A knock on his window startled him, causing his phone to fall from his hand and onto the desk. Looking over he saw David, motioning for him to open his window.

“What’re you doing here?” Matteo asked, holding his window open for David to climb through

“I expected a bit more excitement” David said, throwing himself onto the bed, “Especially since I’m your favorite person and all”

Matteo hummed, not agreeing but not disagreeing with what David said. Matteo sat back down at his desk, trying to focus on the words in front of him. He could feel David’s eyes on him, Matteo desperately wanted to turn and look back at him.

“So, do you notice anything different?” David asked, giving Matteo a reason to turn towards him

Matteo stared at him, eyes tracing over David’s face. Nothing looked different, he still had long eyelashes and his hair was the same. He was ready to tell David everything was the same when he saw it. The piercing in David’s nose, it was small and round. Matteo’s mouth parted slightly, David had talked about getting a septum piercing before, but Matteo never thought he’d go and do it.

“Whoa dude” Matteo moved to sit next to David on the bed, “Did it hurt?”

“Well I was getting a needle shoved through my nose to yeah kind of” David laughed, rolling his eyes at the question

Matteo shoved him lightly, a small smile on his face, “It looks good” you look good, He wanted to say

“Yeah?” David asked, his cheeks turning a light of shade of red

Nodding Matteo leaned closer, staring at the piercing. David really did look good with it, nothing about it stood out, just a tiny silver circle, but somehow, he made it look amazing.

Breaking the silence, David asked, “Do you want to go out with me?”

“Sure, where’re you going?”

David laughed, “No Matteo” David sat up, “I meant do you want to go out with me, like on a date”

Matteo’s eyes widen as he looked up at David, “W-what?”

“I mean unless I’ve totally read this wrong” David ran his hand through his hair, resting it on his neck.

“This?” Matteo was starting to wonder if he was broken

“I was getting these feelings that you liked me, and I’ve liked you for- “David let out a breath, “-for a while now, but we can forget this ever happened if I was wrong- “

Matteo stopped listening. What the hell, David liked him? Matteo hadn’t expected this. Everything in his brain was telling him to say no, there was a huge chance David was not his soulmate. Also, what if it didn’t work out between them and they broke up, would they be able to stay friends after that? But then there was everything else in Matteo’s body that was telling him to say yes. He has liked David for almost a year now, it’d be so stupid of him to say no.

“No” Matteo said, cutting off David causing his face to fall, “Wait no! I meant no you didn’t read the anything wrong”

“Okay” David said slowly, “So you will go out with me?”

Matteo smiled, nodding his head, “Yes David I will” --

“David and I are dating”

They were at Carlos house, playing video games and eating pizza. It had been a couple of months since David asked Matteo out on a date. Matteo figured it was time to tell Jonas, Carlos and Abdi about them. There was no better way to do that than to just blurt it out at a random time. It was surprisingly easy being around the guys without them finding out they were together. The only thing that really changed in their relationship since they got together was that they held hands and kissed.

“About time” Carlos said, frantically the button on the game controller

“Honestly I thought you guys would never figure out you liked one another” Jonas added

“What?” Matteo asked, looking between the two

“I thought you two were secretly dating this whole time” Abdi said, not even looking up from his phone

Matteo looked at David, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, because what the hell?

David laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “Well that was easier than we thought”

Laying back into the couch, Matteo rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh, because wow his fucking friends.

Matteo sat on his bed; legs crossed facing David. There were fifteen minutes left until David’s eighteenth birthday, fifteen minutes until they knew who David’s soulmate was. Matteo remembered what he told himself, no dating before eighteen, but then that flew out the window. He remembered telling himself not to fall in love, not that he thought David would want to keep dating him for longer than six months. But then six months passed, and Matteo had been so far gone for David at that point. Now it’s been almost two years since David had asked Matteo out, and if he were being honest, Matteo wasn’t sure what he would do if he and David weren’t soulmates.

“How is it my birthday but you’re more nervous than me?” David asked, poking Matteo with his pen

Matteo shrugged, thinking back to all those times his brain told him how stupid he was for falling for the boy in front of him. David who was incredibly kind and always offering to help other. David who never got annoyed at Matteo for his endless complaining. David who made Matteo’s heart beat faster whenever he gives Matteo that beautiful smiles of his.

“There’s no reason for you to be nervous, you know”

“David there is a chance that my name won’t appear on your wrist!” Matteo exclaimed, immediately remembering his mom is asleep in the other room, whispering, “That’s a perfect reason to be nervous”

“Your name will appear on my wrist, don’t worry” David said calmly, Matteo rolled his eyes at how sure he sounded.

“Luck and fate have never been very fond of me, so I doubt they’ll let me have one good thing”

Matteo knew that even if his named didn’t appear on David’s wrist, David could still choose to be with him. But then Matteo thought back to when he first asked David about soulmates, how he said that if you didn’t choose your soulmates you’d always wonder if it was the right choice. Matteo didn’t want David to question his choice if he had to pick between his soulmate and him. He didn’t want David to resent him if he did pick Matteo over whoever he was meant to be with. He didn’t want to go through the pain of David realizing that his soulmate was much better than Matteo. He also knew that even if he was David’s soulmate, David could still easily get tired of him, nothing was set in stone.

David wiggled his fingers as he felt a weird tingle shoot throughout his right arm. His phone read three minutes past midnight. He lifted his arm, bringing it closer to his face. David stared at the letters slowly making their way onto his wrist, in possibly the ugliest, sloppiest hand writing he had ever seen.

“Is it there yet?” Matteo asked, not sounding as excited as David was currently feeling.

David nodded, a smug look on his face, “I told you it’d be your name on my wrist” He turned his arm so that Matteo could see, “I’m always right”

Letting his body relax a smile made its way to his face, “Oh my god” Matteo grabbed his wrist, holding It close to his face.

Matteo pulled David into a hug, one that was probably entirely to tight. David wrapped his arms around Matteo’s waist, letting out a laugh. They stayed like that for a few minutes, just holding each other. David rested his head on Matteo’s shoulder, his heart was pounding.

David pulled away first, “So Matteo, Mr. Soulmate” He laughed again, “That is some beautiful hand writing you have here”

“Shut up, I was like seven when I wrote that”

They laid down on the bed, Matteo’s head on David’s chest, staring at Matteo’s horribly written name on David’s wrist. David’s other hand ran through Matteo’s hair, pausing to twirl a strand around his finger.

“You know, I would’ve chosen you whether it was your name or not, right?” David mumbled, “It was always going to be you over anyone”

“I know” Matteo replied, because he did, “I love you” he did.

“I love you too”

David was late, he was twenty-three minutes late. Matteo sat on his bed cross legged, just like he did a few months ago. The only difference this time is that It was Matteo’s eighteenth birthday, twenty-three minutes in. Matteo sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He had felt the weird tingle run through his arm, but he didn’t look. Not yet. Not without David. It didn’t really matter whose name was on Matteo’s wrist, because it was always going to be David over anyone else. So, it didn’t matter, well maybe it did a little. Even though it would always be David, the thought of someone else’s name on him weirded him out.

Matteo was weak, he couldn’t wait any longer. He removed the band aid he placed over his wrist to prevent himself from seeing the name. Tears immediately sprung to his eyes. In all its glory, nice and neat, was written David Schreibner. Matteo ran his finger over the name, he pursed his lips, a smile threatening to break through. A tap on the window brought him out of his daze. David sent a tiny wave to him through the glass. Matteo got up and opened the window for him.

“sorry Laura wouldn’t stop talking about som-“

Matteo cut him off with a kiss, throwing his arms around David’s shoulders. David made a sound of surprise, his hands instantly going to Matteo’s waist. Matteo kissed him once more before pulling away.

“It doesn’t matter, look” He said, holding his arm up to David’s face.

David’s eyes crossed because of how close Matteo’s arm was, “Jesus what’re you-“He stopped, pulling his arm away and reading the name, “Oh shit”

“Yeah ‘oh shit’” Matteo laughed, “We are officially soulmates”

“My official, one and only, soulmate” David said, leaning in and kissing Matteo again.

“That’s me”

David smiled at Matteo, that smile that made his heart beat a mile a minute. Matteo still had his doubts about soulmates and forever. It wasn’t perfect, there were many people in the world who didn’t get the person they thought they would. But he got David in the end, so someone, somewhere was doing something right. Someone somewhere finally decided to let something great come into Matteo’s life and stay.

“I would have chosen you too, no matter whose name was I had” Matteo said, remembering what David had said to him a few months ago, “It was always going to be you over anyone”

Another kiss, “I love you” David did.

#druck #skam druck #skam germany #matteo florenzi #david schreibner #matteo x david #davenzi #datteo #skam remake #davenzi fics #fanfic #soulmates #soulmate au #jonas augustin #carlos schmidt #friends to lovers

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mymothershumility · 5 years ago

Note

❝ So, um…what did you get me for our anniversary? ❞

murder mystery sentence starters || { accepting }

{ @neverflownwithme }

Laira sipped quietly at her tea, putting the mug to rest against her bent knee. Legs and feet drawn onto the cushioned bench with her, the designer allowed her gaze to linger out over the dark water around the yacht. The moon had climbed higher in the sky since she had wandered into the galley. She could scarcely make out its bleary silver reflection along the top of the water now. There was still something picturesque about the surroundings, though. Even in the dead of night, there was a hint of serenity to it.

Footsteps caught her attention, had her eyes glancing back towards the entrance to the galley. They were heavy, drunken ones. Even before she saw the figure that emerged in the galley doorway, Laira knew who the steps belonged to. Her mood soured quickly, eyes going back to the scenery beyond the yacht. Even the darkness that surrounded the boat was better company than the individual that was now stumbling into the galley to join her.

“Sister,” came the singsongy greeting from the galley doorway, “what a pleasant surprise.”

Laira knew it was not her imagination that detected hints of malice in Rubyn’s tone. Sister and brother had long since passed beyond amicable relations with one another. The only time, in fact, that Rubyn surfaced into her life was when he was in search of money… or, when he wished to torment her or her sisters. It was the latter of the two instances that had been occurring more often than not in recent years. Since her father had become so well off after divorcing their mother, Rubyn hadn’t needed to come to her demanding money that she’d never surrendered over to him.

She gave no verbal response to him, eyes glancing back to where he was moving into the galley. Her eyes soon returned to their original point of interest, gaze settling and watching her brother’s movements through his reflection in the glass windows around them.

“No response? No greeting?” Rubyn pressed on, form colliding with one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table. “Are you too good to speak with your big brother now?” he asked her. “Too important?” He reached a hand out towards her, fingers making to grab for a fistful of her hair. His hand was immediately blocked, slapped away by the back of Laira’s own.

“Perhaps I am merely stunned, Rubyn,” she returned to him, hand still held up in defense. “The past has shown that you seldom leave your rooms while being entertained by one of your mistresses,” she stated, voice pleasant sounding despite the implication of her words. “I suppose she had other matters to attend to tonight, though. However, if I recall, you and Father have always been happy to share mutual items of interest in the past. Tell me, is that still the case now that Father has married Paula? Do you both still share with one another?”

The words were cutting, ones that she’d allowed to slip forth with the ferocity and stealth of a coiled viper. Laira continued to watch her brother’s reflection in the glass, watched as his face shifted and contorted with noticeable rage. The hand that had been raised to take a fistful of her hair was raised again, the intent far more malicious.

“You little bi-”

Neither the strike nor the insult ever came. Instead, Laira heard the pained cry her brother gave as his arm was snatched backwards behind his back. She also felt the force of him striking the table, pinned firmly in place by someone who outmatched him not only in weight and height, but in strength as well.

“I am sure that you remember Hal. Don’t you, Rubyn?” she questioned, bringing her mug up to sip her tea again. “He is one of the pilots that flew you and Father out earlier today,” she reminded him. There was no remorse as she turned to face her brother, legs dropping back to the floor beneath her while she watched him jerk about and attempt to throw Hal off. The pilot never budged, not even when her brother snapped out his next threat.

“I’ll have you fired for this!” Rubyn yelled back at Hal, fighting and thrashing as hard as he could to get the pilot off of him. He only grew more frustrated the more he attempted to budge the man. He was getting nowhere. And, the pilot’s hold only seemed to intensify every time he dared to move.

“I don’t work for you,” Hal reminded. His voice was deceivingly calm. It didn’t match his grip or his expression. “With that in mind, consider this a warning while we’re all here together. You even think about raising a hand to her or if you even look at her the wrong way again, I’ll rip your arm off and throw you overboard,” he stated, pressing Rubyn’s arm up higher along his back. The increased pressure and the strange angle made the Frenchman cry out in clear panic. “You understand?” he questioned, the first hints of anger working their way into his voice.

Another sip was taken out of her mug, Laira’s eyes never leaving her brother’s face. It was not her imagination, she knew, that had her seeing fear flashing briefly through his gaze. “It would be a shame to mar Father’s recent nuptials with such a spectacle. Don’t you agree?” she asked, head canting softly to the side. She began to move along the bench, sliding herself out until she was able to stand on her own two feet once more. “Let him go, Hal. I believe he understands.”

Rubyn rose with a jerk once Hal had released him from his hold. He turned on the pilot and, for a moment, Laira thought he might actually attempt to throw a punch. Her brother seemed to think better of it in the end. Hal stood a head taller than Rubyn and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds.

“I’m sure Father will love knowing whom you’re fucking on his yacht,” the Frenchman spat, glare traveling from Hal and over to Laira. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?” he questioned, syllables marred with disgust. “Fucking him? Shall I go tell Father now? Or would you rather I wait until tomorrow evening when we’re all together? I’m sure our guests would love knowing that an esteemed designer such as yourself allows her hired help to fuck her whenever he wishes.”

The words were crass –vulgar– and enough to make Hal take a threatening step forward. He was stilled by Laira’s hand against his arm, muscles bunching with the unanticipated contact. Rubyn had fled five steps back from Hal’s one, leaving a noticeable gap between them.

“I am sure that Father is well aware of everything that I do,” Laira answered, hand slipping along Hal’s arm until she was able to link her arm through his own. She pressed herself against his side, partially to keep him still and partially to take comfort in his presence. Rubyn had made his threats. There would be nothing that she could do to stop him from running to their father and telling his tale. “He has always made it his business to know.”

Laira gave Hal’s arm a gentle tug, turning so they could begin their journey out of the galley. There was a moment of hesitance from Hal, body going stiff as he continued to stare back at Rubyn.

“Hal,” she murmured, looking back to him. “Leave him. He is not worth what you wish to do.”

The pilot continued to hesitate, jaw clenched and hands bunched into tight fists. He moved a few seconds later without any rebuttal, turning and allowing Laira to lead him out of the galley. Both of them listened for the sounds of drunken footfalls following after them. None came. They both heard the sound of chairs being overturned as they walked, though.

A clear sign of one of Rubyn’s infamous temper tantrums.

The hallways beyond the galley were empty. With the exception of the sounds of her heels clicking along the polished Italian marble, everything else was quiet. It took them a few moments to make it back to her cabin, having to descend a flight of stairs and travel another hallway before arriving at her doors. Both of them passed into the cabin without a sound, only daring to speak after the doors had been shut and securely locked behind the both of them.

Hal was the first to speak, hands reaching so his palms were cupped along the line of her jaw while his eyes darted over her. “Are you okay?” he asked her, searching frantically for any signs of harm. He couldn’t find any. Not the first scratch or the first hair out of place on her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” God help Rubyn if he had. Hal’d make sure to follow through on the threat that he’d made just a few minutes before.

“I am fine,” Laira assured him, reaching to set her mug down atop the table just inside her doors. “He never touched me.”

The sigh that Hal released was nothing short of relieved. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and then another to the crown of her head. He was glad that he’d been close enough to hear Rubyn when he’d entered the galley and quick enough to subdue him before he’d actually struck Laira.

“You’re all right,” he murmured, the words more reassurance for himself than for her. “You’re okay.”

“I am fine,” Laira told him again, hands reaching to press themselves against his own. “Everything is all right,” she promised him.

Hal nodded, giving her another kiss against the crown of her head. Then, he sighed once more and let his hands drop so he could wrap his arms around her. “You’re sure you don’t want to rethink my offer?” he asked her. All he had to do was make a call into Monte Carlo and have one of Ollie’s helicopters sent out to retrieve them.

She smiled up at him, fighting against a soft laugh. “You already know my answer.”

“I can’t convince you to reconsider?” he asked, drawing her closer to him. “We could stay in our hotel room,” he reminded. “Be completely undisturbed. Enjoy one another’s company.”

“Now you are merely trying to tempt me,” she accused, the laugh that she had been fighting just moments before escaping her. “While we will have to depart come morning, perhaps we could enjoy one another’s company here.” Laira would have preferred their reserved hotel suite in Monte Carlo as well. The Hôtel de Paris was an exquisite place to lounge when one was allowed the opportunity. They could enjoy being together here in her cabin, though. So long as they made certain their doors remained locked, that was.

“I like tempting you,” he reminded, his earlier anger and worry having abandoned him. It was more appealing to focus on her than on the actions of her brother. So long as she was safe, that was all that mattered to Hal in the end. His words were accompanied by a kiss, mouth slanting against her own. His hands remained at her back, fingers splayed possessively across her.

The sigh that she released was content, head tilting to better meet his kiss. Laira stepped more into his hold at the press of his hands against her back. It took no urging for her to link her arms around his neck and only the sweep of his tongue along her bottom lip for her to open for him.

“I despise when you do that,” she muttered several moments later, words breathless and body still trapped against his own. There was no true fire to her words… more desire in its place.

“Like I said,” Hal started, “I like tempting you. You’ve never complained about it in the past, either.” His words were accompanied by an entirely too satisfied smile. “If it’ll make you feel any better,” he began again, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose, “I brought you something from Paris,” he revealed. Hands reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling a crimson colored velvet box from the pocket. “I thought it might go with your necklace,” he told her, fingers briefly ghosting against the silvery dragon necklace caught around her neck.

“An attempt at bribery?” she asked him, still breathless from his kiss. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the velvet box. The necklace she wore was one of her favorites, delicate silver intertwined to form the likeness of three dragons. Hal had known that for a time... had been the one, in fact, that had given her the necklace. “You did not have to bring me anything,” Laira assured, hands disengaging from him to take the box. “Having you here is gift enough for me.”

And, it truly was. It was difficult for Laira to imagine making it through this entire endeavor without Hal to temper her. Fingers tracing along the box, Laira pushed the top back to gaze at the ring inside of it. Nestled in the black velvet, the ring was silver. Delicate strands of silver had been woven and spun until the likeness of three dragon heads had been formed. They were all connected, the likenesses intertwining and connecting. Along the sides of the ring, there was notable scaled detailing to complete the piece.

“It is lovely,” Laira told him, carefully pulling the ring from its place within the velvet and slipping it onto her middle right finger. It fit perfectly, a sign that Hal had not just picked it up for her on impulse. “You did not have to do this,” she reminded him once more.

“We can always call it an early part of our anniversary,” he told her with a smile, teasing her. “So, um…what did you get me for our anniversary?“ he asked, hardly able to keep himself from laughing.

Laira made a thoughtful humming sound, pretending to ponder his inquiry. “I know how much you adore the color green,” she told him, fingers briefly trailing up and along the collar of his shirt. “I brought an item or two along with me that I thought you might enjoy.”

“Lace?” he questioned.

“And silk.”

“You know me too well.”

#neverflownwithme #;transmissions #v; brilliant and beautiful #;drabble #otp; you are the light in the dark

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vadaschiquita · 6 years ago

Text

Chiquita | Ch. 1

He spotted her from the VIP balcony section of the club. Nevada always had a keen eye for the beautiful women that came and frequented one of his many clubs. Currently, there were lips on his neck and a hand annoyingly playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. What was her name again? Cynthia? Camila? Crystal? Who knew, the point was, he didn't want her company anymore. Not when this new Chiquita was at the club. He wouldn't let whomever it was using his lap for a seat go just yet, no, what good would that do? He would wait; probably send one of his men to ask her up, and maybe put to good use the golden haired lady clinging to the Chiquita's arm. They looked mature, but still young enough to enjoy a night out at the club. And, not just any club, this particular club, but he wouldn't complain, he thanked the Lord Almighty for blessing him with the beautiful sight that was this Chiquita.

"Mari, let's go grab a drink," the golden haired beauty spoke loudly against her ear.

Mariana smiled and bit her plump lip, nodding in acceptance as she let herself be guided by her friend towards the bar. It was her birthday, her thirtieth birthday. The dawn of a new era and a reminder that it was great to be alive, that she had survived another day free of her ex-boyfriend's grasp and far away from his fists and sharp-tongue. Jess drummed her fingers against the surface of the bar, attempting to draw attention to the both of you. But, that was never hard; with Jess' golden locks, pointy nose, and rosy lips and Mariana's caramel skin, doe eyes, and full plump lips it was almost impossible for they layman to over look you.

The bartender approached, "Ladies, what can I get for you?"

"It's her birthday!" Jess shrieked, shooting a glance over her shoulder to Mariana.

"Oh," the bartender leaned on his back and rubbed his chest, "then in that case, it's club policy for the birthday girl to have a body shot of tequila."

Jess squealed and Mariana opened her eyes, smirking, "Is that so?" she questioned, seeing as the bartender nodded. Mariana shrugged and approached Jess, "You're ok with it?"

"Only if I get to do one off of you," Jess responded, shimmying her shoulders.

Mariana playfully rolled her eyes and smiled, acquiescing to Jess' request. The bartender wasted no time in serving the two shots with the accompanied lime wedges and the saltshaker for taste. Jess went first, lapping at Mariana's exposed shoulder and dropping salt upon her skin. She smiled at Mariana, a last confirmation before proceeding to lick the salt off of the shoulder, knocking back the harsh liquid, and squeezing the lemon at the top of her shoulder. Jess waited for the juice to reach the collarbone of the other woman before licking it off. Mariana giggled giddily, craning her neck to the opposite side before Jess placed her lips to the hollow of the other woman's neck.

She loved that girl! The one soul that had broken her walls down since her arrival at the city three years ago, and aside from her therapist, she was the only one that knew Mariana's story; Mariana's whole story. It was Mariana's turn to take her body shot and just like Jess, she did it off of her shoulder, "How much do I owe you?" Jess asked the bartender as he stopped in front of them.

"Oh," he replied, his brows knitted in confusion, "the boss said to put every drink you consume on his tab."

Jess looked back at Mariana, "Excuse me, who?" Mariana barked, fanning her manicured fingers atop the bar.

"Yea," he responded, raising his brow and pointing at the balcony where Nevada and several other men were with some skirts.

Mariana and Jess both turned to look at where the bartender was pointing at and Mariana bit her lip, smiling, and turning towards the bartender, "In that case, let me have two kamikazes and two shots of bourbon."

The bartender tapped his hand in acknowledgement and went to work at the drinks. Mariana turned to lean against the bar and Jess scooted close to her hip, "The boss, are you serious? And, of course he has the audacity to have a slut on his lap," she scoffed in disgust.

"Yea, well let's see how much of a boss he really is," she finished, glancing up quickly at the veranda before turning to grab at her drinks.

Nevada smirked as he watched the Chiquita turn to grab at her cocktail and her shot of brown liquid, "They're not shy, Pucho," he mused to his right-hand man.

Pucho chuckled, placing his hand atop the thigh of the skirt on his lap, urging her to dismount and move. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, "I have a feeling they're not going to be like these ones up here," he said, motioning with his hands.

Nevada chuckled, "Maybe that's a good thing," he continued, pushing whatever her name was off of his lap, "These girls," he said, "they just want the quick fix, comfort, and protection. Those two, especially the one in yellow," he continued, looking over the veranda to try and find the Chiquita and her friend, "those two intrigue me."

Pucho chuckled and leaned back on the couch, sprawling his long limbs open and taking a careful sip out of his glass, "What are you thinking of doing, Nevada?"

Nevada smirked devilishly, glancing over his shoulder to the only man he trusted the most, "You know what I want to do."

Pucho gave a wry smile and nodded slowly.

The tune in club changed quickly and Nevada knew that now was the time to see all the pretty ladies that were here tonight to dance and push his product. After all, they were all somewhere in the Heights, at his club. The tune rapped melodiously against his chest and he mouthed some of the words whilst bobbing his head. He kept a careful eye to the men and women he had working for him on the dance floor, flirt with the dancers and sell his product effortlessly. But, he saw the Chiquita he had been searching for since she managed to slip away after taking her drinks from the bar. She was grinding on some stupid boy who didn't even know a thing about how to handle a woman of that stature. His hands were everywhere and she fought him for his hands. He knew this song. He had danced it many a time with some broad looking to have her way with the drug lord and maybe, possibly be a thing of more than one night. He had fucked to this song, because, who doesn't when the dancing this song required felt and looked already like fucking.

He knew when the bass dropped and he knew what she was going to do as soon as it did, too. And, like a clairvoyant of some sorts, the bass dropped and the Chiquita in the yellow dress arched her back, pushing her ass into the boy that she was dancing with. Nevada squinted and growled lowly, stewing in his own anger, in his jealously because he couldn't have her... yet.

He stood in haste, "What the hell are you doing?" Pucho asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Pucho chuckled and shook his head, hanging it briefly on his shoulders, "She's not from around here, Nevada. Give her time, it's too soon."

Nevada looked over he veranda to see that she had detached herself from the boy and was crossing the dance floor, fanning at her face with her hands as she leaned against the bar top. She ordered something and a glass of water, good girl. She sipped her water carefully and dug her hand inside the glass to grab at an ice cube to run it underneath her jet-black shoulder-length hair. Nevada could've sworn that his heart had skipped a beat and now, he was left the thought of what the taste of her skin would be underneath that ice cube. Unwillingly, he sat next to Pucho, huffing as he watched the Chiquita shimmy her way to the crowd once more.

"Mari," she heard the indistinct squeal Jess produced when calling her name and she rolled her eyes, smiling, "I found someone for you to dance with," she insinuated as she spoke closely to Mariana's face.

"Yea," Mariana replied, "Don't tell me it's another white guy, Jess."

Jess rolled her eyes and deflated momentarily, "No, his name is Carlos. I think he's your type."

Mariana tensed at the mention of a 'type'. Her friends back home had told her that her 'type' might break her heart one day and they'd been right, but those days were long gone and now she had grown, matured, and she knew better, "Come on," Jess ushered, grabbing at her elbow and directing her to where she stood.

As Jess hauled Mariana across the club, she chanced a glance up to the veranda where she knew the man who had purchased her drinks tonight was. She smiled impishly as she raised her glass and saw him give her a nod. She turned her face to focus on Jess, "Jess, I think we should go up to the VIP and thank whomever it is that is paying for our drinks."

Jess stopped in her tracks, turning forcefully towards Mariana, "Are you kidding me?" she asked rhetorically, "He chose to do that while having all types of bitches on his lap. If he thinks that we're going up there, he might as well sit there all night long.”

Mariana shook her head and smiled, "You're something else, you do know that?"

Jess shrugged coquettishly and smiled, "It's why you love me. Now, come on, Carlos is really hot and he really wants to dance with you.”

Nevada watched as the blonde beauty dragged his Chiquita away. Wait, his Chiquita?

Minutes later, he saw Carlos, one of his pushers, dancing away with the beauty in the yellow dress. She moved effortlessly and he knew then, she had to be Latina, "Miguel," he called out. Once he felt the presence of one of his men over his shoulder he spoke, "Grab inventory and profit from Carlos and send his ass home. We'll pick him up tomorrow for a conversation."

What was going on with him, though? He was never like this. By now, he would've had her on his lap, whispering incredulous filth into her ear, and wanting to leave to go and bed her. She had him stuck. Nevada Ramirez was stuck, "I'm done waiting," he mumbled.

Pucho scoffed and stood, "Do what you want," he responded.

Nevada signaled for his little sister and whispered instructions to her ear. Smiling she shook her head, "Always wanting what you can't have, huh Vada?"

"Calla, and go do what I've asked," he responded, leaning back with his whisky.

Mariana liked the way he danced. He moved her carefully and he knew how to keep up and how to respect her boundaries. Yes, she might've been in a short skirt, but that did not award anybody to touch her salaciously if not wanted. As she spun she noticed this younger looking girl with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face and she wondered if she had anything to do with her dance partner, "I think you girlfriend is upset," she shouted near his ear.

Carlos furrowed his brow, "Girlfriend? What are you talking about?"

Mariana paused her movements and looked over her shoulder, seeing through her peripheral Carlos move to look where her eyes were trained, "Can I help you?"

The girl nodded and uncrossed her arms, tapping at the screen of her phone quickly. She brought the device to her ear, "My brother, up at the VIP, would love to know your name."

Mariana smirked and looked at the veranda, watching how the stranger slowly leaned forward to rest his elbow on his knee as his left thumb ran over his lip, "Tell your brother," she begun, staring at the stranger, "that he looks to be a grown ass man and if he really wants to know my man, he can come and ask me his self."

Nevada scoffed and smiled, "She's got a fast mouth, that one. All right," he said, clearing his throat, "does she know I'm paying her drinks tonight?"

The young girl repeated the question for Mariana and she turned fully and placed her hands on her hips, almost challenging him and that's when Nevada noticed the reflection of her gold nameplate chain, bingo! "Ask him if he wants a round of applause with that? It's my birthday," she continued with a smile, "I see it was a gift," she finished, cocking her hip.

Nevada laughed and averted his eyes, "Fiery," he replied through the receiver, "Nina, she has a nameplate, call her by her name."

Nina looked at Mariana's chest and the look didn't go unnoticed. Mariana immediately spoke, moving her hand quickly to cover her name, "Clever, but if you really want to know my name, I dare you to leave you nest."

She turned quickly to grab at Carlos' hand when they were approached by two gigantic men, "Carlitos," one of them spoke, "you're done for the night. El jefe wants to see you tomorrow."

Mariana scoffed and turned once more, catching the smug smirk the handsome stranger sported, "Unbelievable," she mumbled under her breath, stomping towards the bar where she was lucky enough to have found an empty seat.

Mariana continued ordering drinks and chancing glances up at the veranda. She must've gotten through him somehow, women using his lap as a seat had ceased and when one of them tried, he would just glare at them until they'd disperse. Who was he? Who did he knew? What type of power did he carry around here when he would kick patrons out for apparently not having his way. If all he wanted to know was her name, then why not make the trip down from his safe place? She turned on her barstool and placed her cocktail glass atop the smooth surface, thumbing the stem of the glass when the bartender approached, "Another one?"

She looked up and smiled, "No, actually, can I have some water?"

He smiled sweetly and nodded. Maybe he knows who they are? Once he returned, he retired the empty cocktail glass and before he could leave, she spoke, "Hey, question."

"Yea," he replied, leaning against the bar.

"Who is he?" she asked, lifting her water and pointing at it.

The bartender smiled and shook his head, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Mariana giggled, "That obvious, huh?"

He nodded and sighed, "He's the boss. He runs the Heights and employs many of us. Say what you may about him, but the guy helps his people.”

"Does he always do this?"

"When he wants you, but you and your friend are the first ones I've seen that had not gone up once they notice who he is," he finished, smiling.

"Does he have a name?"

"He does, but I suggest that you don't find out if you don't already know, bonita," the bartender finished, tapping at the surface and leaving.

Mariana was suddenly startled by hands around her waist and as she turned she noticed it was Jess. She smiled and shook her head, "Ready to go?"

Jess nodded against Mariana's back and turned, noticing a handsome man behind her. Mariana looked at Jess' eyes, attempting to figure if she had been drugged or if she wasn't in her complete senses when Jess smiled, "I'm fine, I promise."

Once outside, the night air hit her face, the alcohol that swam through her veins making her sway. She was thankful for Jess and heard her explain who the handsome man she planned on bedding tonight was. She trusted Jess' instincts and when she didn't, she would intervene, but tonight was about having fun and letting lose. They climbed into a taxi and she saw as Jess waved and shout her love out the window for her.

"Leaving by yourself?" Mariana snapped her head in the direction of the voice and was surprised to the handsome stranger lurking in the shadows.

She raised a brow and crossed her arms, moving her eyes slightly over the man's sexy ensemble. She stared at his face, with the neatly trimmed facial hair, smoldering green eyes, and long fingers that danced around the rim of his glass. She noticed the heavily tinted SUV parked at the curb with the same few men that had escorted Carlos out earlier in the night and she narrowed her stare at him.

Nevada smiled boyishly and pursed his lips, "Nevada," he finally said.

"Mariana," she replied, watching as Nevada nodded and turned.

#me #chiquita #chapter 1 #new chapter #nevada ramirez #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #trouble in the heights #trash can #nevada #ramirez #raul esparza

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beckytailweaver · 7 years ago

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[FIC] Coco 1934 - Part 2

All the art and stories! Everyone is being so creative lately. I need to contribute!

Here we go again!

For the previous chapter: Part 1

To read Part 2...

Coco 1934: Part 2

When Miguel opened his eyes, he was standing in a large business office surrounded by a crowd of walking, talking skeletons.

All of them jumped. At least half of the skeletons screamed as well.

Miguel would never admit to screaming, but he did try to run from the sudden nightmare of hollowed eyes and bony, reaching hands. It took two of the blue-uniformed officers to snatch him up and hold on to him while they half-carried him kicking and yelling to a smaller office chamber. They made him sit in a chair before a large desk piled with files and papers, and held him there until he quieted.

Behind the desk was a short skeleton-man with eyeglasses. He looked like a clerk. He and the officers questioned Miguel about how he'd gotten there—Miguel himself wasn't very clear on that—and who he was, if he had any family in the Land of the Dead. Which was somehow where he was now.

"Mamá's parents died when she was young," he explained nervously, trying not to stare at the white, painted skull faces. It would be rude when they weren't being very scary at all, but actually speaking reasonably. "I don't know their names. And I think my papá was an orphan."

He watched the Clerk and the guards exchange a look, and wondered what it meant.

"See, here's the thing, niño," the Clerk said patiently. "You're under a curse. Not just any curse, either—a death curse. Which you can only get by messing with something that belongs to the wronged dead, something with the death curse attached to it."

"The last thing I touched was a guitar," Miguel confessed, hunching in the chair, "but the man it belongs to is alive!" Maybe someone had cursed the guitar and meant it for De la Cruz, and Miguel had intervened.

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain there is no one dead attached to the guitar? Might you have touched anything else?"

Miguel rapidly shook his head.

He watched the Clerk and the guards exchange another look, before the Clerk sighed. "The only way to get out from under a death curse is to find the wronged dead and have them undo it—get their blessing, using the magic of a cempasúchil petal—or figure out how to satisfy the terms of the curse and break it, which we have no way to know."

"So..."

"Nobody's much in the business of traditional death curses these days, niño. The last person this happened to was well before my time. Unless the owner of the cursed guitar is dead, which you've insisted he isn't, you're stuck here in the Land of the Dead until the curse runs its course."

"What will happen then?" Miguel quavered.

The Clerk pointed at Miguel's left hand.

When Miguel found only white bone where his fingertip used to be, he fainted.

Miguel woke up with the Clerk and the officer with the thick mustache standing over him. The Clerk was fanning him anxiously with a file folder.

"...don't know, at least he's still breathing. Niño? Miguel?" The Clerk leaned closer, still fanning, peering at Miguel's blinking eyes. "Oh, good. You're awake. Come on, then, up you go..."

With shaking hands, Miguel let the two skeletons help him back to his feet. He felt woozy and his head hurt, and all he could think about was glistening white bone moving like it was alive where his finger used to be. "What...what's happening to me...?"

"It's how most death curses go," spoke up the officer, his voice quiet and gravelly.

"That and the Land of the Dead isn't exactly a holiday destination for living things," the Clerk harrumphed, straightening his green eyeshade. "To sum it up, young man, you have a very limited amount of time to remain alive. Since we don't know much about the exact sort of curse you're under I can only guess how long, but at the rate you're losing flesh...perhaps sunrise? Certainly no more than a full day."

"S-sunrise?" Miguel yelped, swaying on his feet. The officer hastily steadied him. "You mean...after tonight...I'll...?"

"You'll become a permanent resident here, I'm afraid." The Clerk was businesslike, but there was pity in his eyes, a hopeless kind of pity that made Miguel's chest ache and his knees start to tremble beneath him. "With no source here for your curse, I'm afraid that all we can do is make you comfortable until it runs its course."

"But...but my mamá, my family, they won't know what happened—!" His vision started to blur with tears.

"I'm very sorry, niño," said the Clerk, more briskly than he wanted to hear. "You can wait here at the Department. When the time comes, since you have no family here, one of the officers will walk you down to the San Gerónimo Children's Home. A counselor will assist you with filling out the requisite forms before you leave, so that you can be notified if and when any family members arrive in the future—"

"An orphanage?" he yelped, drawing away from them. "You're sending me to an orphanage...f-for dead kids? I have a family, I'm not dead!"

"I'm afraid it's only a matter of time," the Clerk sighed. "And since you are underage and with no known deceased family, you have no residence or legal guardians here. When an adult from your family arrives, you can—"

"I want to go home!" Miguel declared, but when he tried to back away further, the officer set a very firm hand on his shoulder, preventing him from moving.

"There's nothing we can do, son," the officer said in a gruffly gentle way. "We don't know of any way to bring you back into the Land of the Living."

"You don't, but maybe someone else does!" Miguel insisted, trying to free himself from the bony hands. "Let me go!"

"It's not safe for a living person to go gallivanting about the Land of the Dead," the Clerk said, adjusting his glasses. "There are still bad sorts here that might try to use you for some unsavory purpose while you are still alive, likely to try to contact the living world, and...it doesn't bear thinking about, especially for a child. It's best if you just wait here quietly until tomorrow. I'm sorry, Miguel, but that's the best we can do. Jorge, if you would take him to one of the family rooms, maybe get him some water...?"

Looking stern and sad, the officer pulled him to the door. Miguel fought him along the way, unable to hold back his tears. "Let me go! I'm not dead! I want to go home! Let go!"

Just outside the Clerk's office, they almost ran into another uniformed officer and a lanky skeleton in a purple jacket he was frog-marching through the front office room. "—could have been clocking out to visit my living family already," this new officer was grumbling at his captive, "but I have to haul your obnoxious arse to lockup again—every goddamn year—"

"Carlos! There is a child present!" the lanky skeleton protested, before he took a closer look at Miguel and gasped. "Ay! He's alive—!"

"And he's none of your business, Héctor," the mustached officer stated, keeping his grip and pushing Miguel along before him as if to shield him from the other detainee's view. "Looks like you're in enough trouble as it is."

As they all trudged along almost in parallel for a few moments, Miguel's tear-streaked face turned up to glance at the tall lanky skeleton staring wide-eyed back at him. In that instant, something passed between them—an echo of determination, a shared desperation, a wily spark of inspiration.

"No! I wanna go home!" Still struggling against the mustachioed officer's grip, Miguel threw himself with a wail to the floor at the lanky skeleton's feet, almost dragging the startled Jorge down with him.

The lanky skeleton—Héctor?—took a step to the side and tripped over Miguel in such a dramatic sprawl that the two officers collided with each other and stumbled as well. Suddenly everything was a mess of clattering bones and flailing limbs and everyone else in the office was staring in incredulous dismay.

As limber as if he'd practiced for a circus tumble, Héctor rolled out of the mayhem and bounced to his feet with Miguel clutched under one arm. "Let's go, chamaco!"

The mustached officer made a grab for them from the floor, but like a thief with a freshly stolen jewelry box, Héctor slipped away from the reaching hands and lit out for the front doors. Miguel was jarred against rigid bone but didn't complain, hanging on to the skeleton's threadbare jacket for dear life.

There was yelling from behind, and another officer tried to bodily block them from the doors, but Miguel's long-legged ride spun nimbly around the tackle, cleared the queue control rail in one leap, and slammed into the office doors hard enough to rattle teeth. He scrabbled at the handle for a heart-pounding instant, and Miguel felt a hard bony hand grasping at his ankle before they all but fell through the opening.

Miguel kicked out blindly, knocking the reaching hands away, and the skeleton carrying him bolted out of the office like a spooked deer. Moments later, they were weaving without slowing through thick crowds in what seemed almost like a train station, leaving the frantic officers and angry shouts far behind.

tbc...

Notes: There may or may not be an actual face scanner in 1934! It’s likely a new-ish invention. The marigold bridge magic still works to prevent unauthorized passage, though. The office skeletons aren’t uncaring of Miguel’s situation but they honestly have no idea what to do for him. This sort of thing doesn’t just happen any more, since the world has moved away from belief and magic of decades and centuries past. Even if they could walk Miguel across a marigold bridge, they have no idea how to flip him back into the living world from where they are. Nobody knows how to help, unless they’ve got maybe an Aztec shaman stashed away somewhere or something like that...? Yes, this Héctor is in much better shape than the one in the canon movie. It’s only been a decade or so since he died, so he has multiple living people who remember him. He might be penniless and a bit threadbare, but he’s still fit, unfaded, and even somewhat optimistic. There might be a familiar face or two in the office...

Thoughts welcome!

#still working this AU of a headcanon #It's akin to Unborn Destiny but not quite the same #Also Mama Victoria is still kicking around #I haven't forgotten but I'm afraid to turn it loose #since I want to be very careful #This AU has just barely begun #coco fanfic #coco AU #coco spoilers #coco 1934

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hopes4gf · 3 years ago

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Thievery and Mischief- (a descendants/marvel crossover)

The next week, before my art class I went to my locker to get my stuff and the song I wrote for Jay. As I looked for Jay, I spotted him flirting with a group of girls in the courtyard.

”Look out for number 8 scoring the winning goal,” Jay says to the girls in a seductive voice.

”Asshole,” I say.

”Who’s an asshole?” Arabella says, creeping up behind me.

”Jay. He’s flirting with those girls who got their hair done by Mal. He’s obviously trying to make me jealous,” I say.

”I talked to your cousin,” Arabella says in a song-like manner.

I roll my eyes at her comment.

”Tell him how you Ababwa’s run this shit,” Arabella says.

”Fine,” I say.

I spot Jay with the core four and Ben laughing.

“He’s busy,” I point out.

I go back into my locker and put on some more peach lipgloss.

”He’s heading for you actually. Good luck,” Arabella says quickly.

”wait-What?!” I say.

I hear someone lean against the lockers.

I close my locker a bit and see Jay in front of me.

”Hey, princess,” Jay says.

I roll my eyes open the door again.

”What’s wrong?” Jay asks.

I stay silent.

”Would a cookie maybe change your mind about ignoring me?” Jay asks.

I slam my locker closed.

”I saw what you did. You really think I’m an idiot? You made those damn cookies to try and make me submit to your game, huh? And then you flirt with those girls to make me feel jealous. Knowing my past relationship? Your an absolute idiot,” I scoff.

”Okay maybe the flirting was true but the cookies? No way. I wouldn’t do that to you,” Jay says.

”Then why did I detect the love spell with my powers?” I ask.

”Shit,” Jay blurts out.

”I cant believe you,” I say turning away from him.

He catches my wrist and pins me against the lockers.

The people around us see the sight and walk past us until the hall is cleared.

”The cookies are nothing. They had a love spell because Mal likes Ben and she doesn’t know how to tell him. But you, I know that you might feel something for me. Hell, you’ve clearly admitted that to me. But don’t you think for a second that I would ever do that to you to make you fall for me. That’s where I draw the line. Everything about you is so beautiful, I don’t need a love spell for you to show me how much you like me. And just so you know, I-“

An instinct tells me, “kiss him” and I grab his jacket and press his lips on mine. He kisses me back, the sweetness of his lips entangling with the taste of mine. I pull away from him and he takes a step back. Before he can speak the bell rings and I go to Art class.

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

The first homecoming game of the season! Finally it’s here. The score is neck to neck and the Knights are playing hard. Me and Arabella help the girls by leading the routine. Audrey rolls her eyes when she sees us helping the girls but tries to maintain her pep.

I see that Jay is substituted into the game with Carlos and I bite my lip nervously.

Me and the girls watch as Jay and Ben pass around the ball across the field. Jay demonstrating his skills. My brother gets his pass on the kill zone and tosses it up to Chad. Chad passes to Jay and Ben gets the ball, scoring the winning goal. We all erupt with excitement and me and the girl go on the field. We win the homecoming championship trophy and everyone cheers with joy. Before the announcer can finish Ben take the mic. Ben confesses his love to Mal through a song and me and the girls join in. When he meets with Mal on the bleachers, Audrey huffs and claims Chad as her boyfriend. Ben asks Mal to go to the Coronation with him and she says yes. Everyone cheers. I look over and see a wide smile on Jay’s face as he’s awarded MVP of the game. Him and his teammates gather together and hype him up. He suddenly stops and spots me. His smile grows wider and he runs towards me picking me up a twirling me around.

”God, I’m so happy! Do you see that?” Jay says happily.

”Yeah, I did! Congratulations,” I laugh.

”There’s one thing missing though,” Jay says.

”And what’s that?” I ask.

His teammates gather around us to hear the conversation

“Come on, Jay! Tell her!” Jake laughs.

”Shut up, asshole!” Aziz says.

”Will you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and go to the Coronation with me and possibly go on a date with me?” Jay asks.

“Hell yeah!” I say happily, hugging him tightly.

The boys cheer for us as we hug.

We break apart and he kisses my cheek.

”I call you later, okay?” Jay says.

”Yeah! Go have fun,” I say to Jay.

He joins the boys and Arabella and Lonnie come up to me.

”That was so cute!” They say at once.

”Damn straight it was,” I say happily.

We all laugh in unison and Arabella slings her arm around me and Lonnie’s shoulders.

”E! Adri’s got a hot date to prep for!” Lonnie says.

”What? With who?” Evie asks.

”Jay,” I say shyly.

Evie giggles in happiness.

”I have the perfect outfits for you, come on!” Evie says, taking my hand.

Later, a random phone number calls me.

”Thats Jay’s number,” Evie says in a sing-song voice.

”Pick it up, idiot!” Lonnie says.

I grab my phone and I press answer.

”Hello?” I say.

”Hey babe,” Jay says through the phone in a deep voice.

The girls hold back their snickers as he speaks.

”Hey, what are you doing?” I ask.

”I’m at the mall with the boys, we just finished having pizza and I just was thinking of you,” Jay says.

The girls “aww” silently.

”Shut up, you weren’t,” I assume.

”You think I’m lying?” Jay asks me.

”Yeah,” I affirm.

”Then why else would I be at the mall in front of a jewelry store if I wasn’t thinking of you,” Jay laughs.

My eyes widen and the girls jaws drop. They whisper to each other.

”Lemme guess, Jake’s spending a ridiculous amount of money on a chain he will never wear again?” I ask.

”Yeah and so is Herkie and Anthony,” Jay chuckles.

”Of course they would,” I roll my eyes.

”Anyways, I just wanted to ask what time you think I should pick you up tomorrow for our date?” Jay asks.

”Tomorrow?”I ask.

Evie mouths 6 to me.

”Is 6 o’clock okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, sure. That’s perfect actually,” Jay says.

”Good-um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say shyly.

”Yeah, see you,” Jay says.

”By the way, you sound so hot over the phone,” I blurt out.

WHY DID I SAY THAT!

I hear him laugh on the other line. Oh god I can already see the smirk on his face from here.

”Oh, you mean the voice that’s been in your ear for the last two weeks?” Jay asks in a seductive voice.

”Shut up, you dork,” I say.

Jay laughs over the other line and I can’t faintly hear people snickering in the back.

”Is Jake and Aziz there?” I ask cheekily.

”You like the sound of Jay’s voice, eh?” Jake says from the other line.

”YOU DIRTY TREESH I WILL CUT YOU!” I yell.

”Sleep good tonight, Adri,” Aziz says playfully.

”Shut up!” I yell.

The girls burst out laughing.

”Lemme guess, Lonnie and Evie?” Jay assumes.

”Hi, Jay~” That both say sweetly.

”Take care of my girl, okay? E, make her look nice and sexy for me,” Jay says.

”Oh, so I’m not nice and sexy all the time?” I ask playfully.

”Depends,” Jay jokes.

The boys laugh.

”Don’t do anything stupid, you idiots,” I say through a giggle.

”Alright, bye babe,” Jay says.

”Bye,” I say.

I sigh loudly in embarrassment.

”Oh my god, they’re so funny,” Evie says.

”That’s our friends for you,” Lonnie comments.

I place a hand on my cheek.

God what’ve I done.

Me and the girls decide on an outfit and we give in for the night.

The next day, Jay avoids me all day. I bet it’s just to preserve the surprise.

In Biology, he sits in front of me as usual.

”Hey,” Jay says, speaking up for the first time in all of the day.

”Hi,” I says shyly.

”Hey guys,” Jake says, ruining the mood at our table. Me and Jay groan.

”Really, dude? We’re in the middle of something here,” Jay says.

”Am I really a mood killer?” Jake asks.

”Yes,” We say, nodding in unison.

”Whatever, my guys. So....y’all going on your date?” Jake asks.

We roll our eyes.

”Jesus, we haven’t even talked about it. What do you know?” I ask.

”Um- everything?” Jake assumes.

I look at Jay with wide eyes and tilt my head to Jake. Jay shrugs and I groan. The whole class period they make fun of me when I almost trip and hit myself on the table.

”Is there anything I should know at least?” I ask.

”Pft- my mans got a lot in store for you, may I just say,” Jake says with a wink.

”It’s probably nothing you haven’t seen before,” Jay says shyly with a smile.

”Bet,” I say with a smirk.

The bell rings.

”I’ll see you later, handsome,” I say, kissing his cheek.

He grabs my wrist and kisses my hand. I giggle and I walk out the door.

I head for the field and I see Arabella walk towards me.

”I’m about to beat Audreys ass,” Arabella yells.

”Why?” I ask.

”That shedevil is cutting half the team!” Arabella says.

”Come with me,” I say, grabbing her arm.

We stride down the halls to the headmistress’s office. I walk in and she’s with Jane.

”Adri, what’s wrong?” Fairy Godmother asks.

”Lemme guess, Audrey,” Jane asks.

I sit down in one of her office’s seats.

”Fairy Godmother, Audrey Briar Rose Beauty is someone who shouldn’t deserve to be Captain of the cheer team,” I start.

”Give it to her, debate style,” Arabella says.

”Audrey hasn’t posted us on for a cheer competition in two consecutive years, we have been using the same routines with absolutely no props that the school has payed for, our funding for the cheer team has been rotting in our marketing for years now because Audrey hasn’t been doing any fundraising, made any spirit wear, events, conferences, or even our Thronecoming dance that we take huge tradition in,” I say.

”Now if you were to ask me who would replace her? My answer would be either Jane, Arabella, me or anyone else in the squad. Because all of us girls take big pride in what we do for our school. And Audrey, if she isn’t removed from her position, will continue to throw away her chance to make us have memorable year,” I say.

Fairy Godmother thinks for a moment.

Jane stares at me dumbfoundedly. Surprised at my reasonings. She puts a hand on my shoulder and Arabella does the same. I tap my nails on her desk expectantly.

”Please inform Miss Beauty that her time as Captain is up. Adri will take new formal position as Captainand Arabella and my daughter will be Assistants,” Fairy Godmother agrees.

”It’s a pleasure doing business with you always,” I say, getting up to shake her hand.

We shake hands and we walk out of her office.

We walk into the field and see the girls talking in groups.

”Audrey, your reign on this squad is over,” I say to Audrey.

”Excuse me? Do you want to be cut from my team?” Audrey asks.

”Actually, your being cut from our team,” Arabella says.

Audrey gasps.

”What?” Audrey says.

”My mom said that Adri is our new captain and that your done here,” Jane says sassily.

I take a step towards Audrey, towering over her.

”Your bullying doesn’t work on any of us anymore. Especially me,” I say, intimidating her. Her doe eyes fill with frightened tears and she runs away, leaving her whistle on the grass.

I pick up the whistle and blow it.

”Let’s line it up, ladies,” I say, watching her run inside the school.

After practice all the girls come up to me to thank me for getting Audrey out of the team and about how much fun they had.

“I’ve never felt so powerful before,” Jane says.

”I have, when I fight with my sister,” Arabella says.

”Damn right,” I say, high fiving Arabella.

”I wasn’t even sure if my mom would say yes to you being captain. You should be on the debate team!” Jane suggests.

”Nah. Art is my true passion. But Mock Trial would be a good thing to do,” I say.

“I got to go guys, I’ve got a date,” I say.

While I’m walking to my dorm, I find a box with a note on it.

It reads:

A little gift for our date~

xo, jay

ps: trust me on this ;)

I take the box inside and I open it to find a multicolored striped bikini and a tangerine colored visor. I put this under it: https://pin.it/6I262UG and throw my hair in a ponytail.

I head over to Evie’s dorm and I suddenly get butterflies.

”E, I’m so fucking nervous you have no idea,” I say.

Evie stops sewing and puts her hands on my shoulders.

”Listen, that boy has called me and your brother about fifty times asking about you. He’s just as nervous as you are. But please, be the bigger person and chill. You’ve got this,” Evie advises.

I take a deep breath and I step in front of the mirror a start crying.

”Adri, what’s wrong?” Evie says, hugging me.

”I look so pretty! This isn’t fair. I haven’t been on a date in so long. I never thought I was gonna ever fall for someone else after Chad. But I think I was just lying to myself to hide my feelings,” I say.

”I promised him that you would be sexy,” Evie says.

We hear a knock at the door and my anxiety spikes.

”Hey, take a breath,” Evie advises.

I take a deep breath and Evie opens the door.

0 notes

kindofchaoticgood · 7 years ago

Text

Shady’s Back, Tell a Friend

Deleted scenes from Descendants 2, featuring your favorite pirates.

Harry burst into the shoppe, eyes ablaze and a maniacal grin on his face. “Guess who’s ba-ack?”

Uma raised an eyebrow from behind the counter. “You?”

“The witch who stole my glass eye?” Ashe guessed, and then giggled at her own joke.

“Your sanity?” Jonas suggested, as Marya snickered.

“Ha bloody ha, fuck you. No, it’s much better than that.” Harry hopped over the counter and leered at Uma. “Let’s just say she’s the bastard brat of a certain faerie turned lizard.”

Uma’s eyes widened, Gonzo spat out his beer in Ashe’s face, but Jonas just laughed. “Dude, don’t fuck with us like that, Uma’s gonna fucking kill you.”

Harry gave Jonas a withering look. “Shut yer trap.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Jonas looked incredulous. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Who gives a fuck about what she’s doing here? I say we go find the bitch and pound her!” Marya said, pounding the table for emphasis.

“I’m with Marya,” Ashe agreed, casting a glare at Gonzo and wiping off her face. “Let’s feed her to Harry’s pet crocodile—”

“Shut the fuck up Ashe, it’s not my pet—”

“Ooh! Or we could string her up and use her as target practice for the little kids!” Ashe finished, looking a little too thrilled with the idea.

“We’re not doing any of that,” Uma responded coolly, sliding a tray off of the counter and passing it back to Cook.

When she turned back around, Jonas was staring at her as though she had announced a desire to become a pretty, pretty princess, Marya was giving her a look that clearly said wtf?, Gonzo was eyeing her as though she had some sort of contagious disease, and Harry and Ashe looked like Christmas had been cancelled.

“I’m sorry,” Marya said after a pause. “I just blacked out for a moment. Could you repeat that?”

“We’re not doing any of your lame-ass ideas,” Uma replied. “Instead, we’re going to cut her up, bake her into a pie, and send it to the king.”

Jonas burst out laughing and Gonzo shook his head. “Jesus, Captain, for a second there . . .”

“You bitch! I thought you were going soft on us!” Ashe chucked a rag at Uma’s head, which missed by a wide margin and flopped pathetically onto the floor. Marya sniggered.

“Nice aim, Ashleigh.”

“Bite me, preacher girl,” Ashe retorted.

Harry was giving Uma a starry-eyed look, and honestly, Marya was surprised hearts weren’t flying around his head. “I have never been so attracted to you, darling,” the pirate purred, snaking an arm around Uma’s waist and drawing her close.

“Fucking hell, get a room, you two,” Gonzo said disgustedly as Uma smirked up at Harry.

“Does nobody care that this rat bastard is feeling up my cousin in front of me?” Jonas asked the room. “Just me? Okay.”

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the Isle . . .

“Si-Si! Si-Si!” Jia chanted as she ran towards her older sister, Nicky close on her heels.

“Calm down, midget,” Sierra ordered.

“What is it?” Claudine asked, in a much gentler tone.

Jia brandished the royal blue wallet embroidered with a garish red design, too out of breath to speak, so Nicky took over for her. “We stole Evie’s wallet!”

Sierra rolled her eyes. “That’s great, hon, but from who?”

“Evie! We saw her, and then Jia was like, we should totally tag team her, and then we did and then she gave it to us! Isn’t that so weird?”

“So weird,” Jia agreed breathlessly.

But Claudine had frozen in place, and Sierra was still trying to sort through what Nicky had just spouted off. “Did you just say you saw Evie? Evie as in blue hair, Evil Queen-spawn Evie?”

“Yeah!” Nicky agreed enthusiastically. “There was so much money in her wallet, but we spent some of it on sour lemons—”

“Where did you see her?” Claudine interrupted sharply, and Sierra looked at her in surprise; she had never heard that tone from Claudine before.

“I think they were heading towards the Horned King’s bazaar—”

Claudine started storming towards where Nicky and Jia had just come from, and Sierra was just about to pull her aside and demand what the hell she was doing when Gil barreled past them, nearly knocking Jia and Claudine off their feet. Sierra and Nicky managed to flatten themselves against a wall in time.

“What the hell?” Claudine demanded, straightening her headscarf and scowling at Gil.

“Going somewhere, Egg-head?” Sierra asked sarcastically, brushing debris off of Jia’s hat.

“Got news for Uma,” Gil called over his shoulder (not even out of breath, Sierra noted enviously), “You’ll never guess who’s here!”

An idea came to Sierra, and so being Sierra, she ran with it. “Oh yeah? Well, we’ve got news too. Race you for who gets to tell Uma first!”

She sprinted towards the direction of the docks, leaving a stunned Claudine and Gil chasing after her, yelling, “Sierra, you bastard, you never called out a starting time!”

“Can’t hear you from how far away I am!” she called back.

Gil cursed and picked up the pace, leaving Claudine with Jia and Nicky.

Claudine sighed, and then smiled down at the six-year-olds. “Which one of you wants to ride on my back and which one wants to try and beat me to the Chip Shoppe?”

Nicky and Jia’s eyes lit up.

*****

At the Chip Shoppe, Morwenna Mim was scarfing down a plate of cold crab surprise like it was the last meal she would ever have. (And given that this was the Isle, who knew if she would survive until tomorrow?)

“Slow down, Baby Mim,” Uma said, leaning against the counter with an amused expression on her face. “Food’s not gonna run away from you.”

“I know that,” Morwenna retorted. “This tastes like it’s been dead for two weeks at least,” she gave the plate a disgusted look. “This isn’t even crab!”

Uma laughed, but Desiree, who was walking by, called out to her. “Just pour some mustard on it; it helps with the taste of rot.”

Morwenna was in the process of drowning the crab surprise with mustard when Gil and Sierra burst through the door, shoving each other.

“—Get off me, you dick!” Sierra snarled, trying to pry up Gil’s fingers from around her arm.

“The only reason you beat me is because you tripped me as I was walking up the steps!”

“I can’t help that you have weak ankles!”

“What the fuck ever, Sierra – UMA!” Gil hollered at the captain, who gave them a look of vague interest. “The – mmph!”

Sierra slammed a hand over his mouth. “Ladies first, Gil, didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

Their fight had caught the attention of the rest of the crew, and now they were all watching Gil and Desiree with avid interest. Harry, Jonas, and Big Murph were betting in quiet voices on who would end up winning. Jonas was betting on Gil because he had muscles to spare, Murph was betting on Sierra because she was scrappy, and Harry was betting that Uma would kill them both before they ever finished fighting.

Gil licked Sierra’s hand, and she yanked it back with a disgusted yell. “King Ben’s in the Isle!” Gil bellowed before Sierra could try to strangle him.

Desiree dropped a tray with a loud clatter, Marya actually gasped out loud, Gonzo reflexively reached for his sword and then remembered it was at the sword check, Sierra looked stunned, and Morwenna felt her fingers clench around the cheap metal fork, bending it.

Uma was staring at Gil, eyes stormy and face unreadable, but before she could do anything, Nicky ran through the door and jumped into Murph’s arms, yelling; “Dad, Jia and I saw Evie, Carlos, and Jay sneaking into the Horned King’s Bazaar!”

Claudine shouldered her way through the double doors, Jia clinging to her neck like a small monkey. “Did he tell you . . . .?” she took a moment to observe the room and raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t expecting this amount of shock.”

“The king’s in the Isle,” Sierra said hoarsely, still holding Gil in a headlock.

Claudine blinked, and then carefully unwound Jia’s arms from around her neck before setting her down and staggering into a chair.

Nicky looked confused. “Wait, when did the king come here?”

Quite honestly, that’s what Morwenna wanted to know too.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Uma asked. Her face was calculating, and her eyes were focused on something past them. Harry had silently gravitated to her side, a dark scowl on his face. “Our lovesick king must have followed Mal to the Isle, and taken the other three traitors as tour guides.”

“Wait, Mal’s here too?” Gil demanded, sounding utterly confused.

“Oh my God,” Marya whispered. “This is way too good to be true . . .”

“Yes!” Ashe cackled, rubbing her hands together. “We’re baking five pies tonight, bitches!” She waved a dismissive hand at Sierra’s incredulous look. “I’ll explain later.”

“Shut up, all of you,” Uma commanded, and the room quieted instantly. “We have an opportunity and I intend to make the most out of it.” She cast a glare around the room, meeting each person’s eyes. “Are all of you with me?”

“Always,” Harry said instantly.

“Of course, Captain,” Gonzo agreed, Murph and Claudine nodding in affirmative.

“We’ll do whatever it takes, Uma,” Sierra declared as Ashe nodded vigorously and Marya grinned devilishly.

“Do you even have to ask?” Desiree asked, giving her cousin a shark smile. Jonas smirked at Uma and saluted her with his shot glass before downing it.

Everyone turned to Gil with raised eyebrows, waiting. It took Gil a second to notice them, and then he grinned embarrassedly. “Sorry, got distracted. I’m your man, boss.”

“Good.” Uma climbed on top of the table, and Morwenna was forced to abandon her crab surprise and push her chair back to avoid getting stepped on. “We’re getting off the Isle, and we’re gonna use the king to do it. Our primary target is no longer Mal. That bitch can rot in her house forever as far as I care. No, we need the king in order for this to work.” Her eyes gleamed feverishly. “And I’m going to go get him.”

“Hell yes,” Claudine spoke up, color returning to her cheeks. Desiree smirked, and Gil looked excited.

“Cuz?” Jonas spoke up. “Not to rain on your parade or anything, but Auntie’s still here . . .”

Uma scowled, her mood instantly plummeting. “Goddamn it.” She cast a glare at the kitchen, but then gave a devious smile as she looked down at her first mate. “Harry?”

He gave her a sultry look, menace lurking in his smile. “Yes, Captain?”

“Would you be a dear and pick up the king for me?”

The pirate grinned, and absently, Morwenna wondered how he had managed to show off of all of his teeth at once. “It would be my pleasure, lovely,”

“Cool.” Uma nimbly hopped off of the table and whisked away Morwenna’s plate. “I’ll leave the details to you, I want to be surprised.”

Harry looked positively deranged as he turned to leer at the assembled crowd, all chomping at the bit to go and kidnap a king.

“Oh and Harry?” Uma poked her head out through the window. “Try not to hit him too much; he looks like he bruises like a peach.”

“But that eliminates half of my ideas!” Harry complained.

“Not my problem,” Uma disappeared back into the kitchen with an evil laugh.

Scowling like a little boy who had just been denied sweets, Harry turned back to the crew. “Who wants to drag a king’s body?”

“I will!” Ashe called out instantly.

“If Ashe is going, so am I,” Sierra said authoritatively. “You guys remember the last time . . .”

Morwenna barely contained a shudder. The blood, the way it had spattered all over her freshly-stolen dress . . . It was almost too gruesome to bear, but Morwenna was a Mim, and Mims were never intimidated.

“Alright, then that’s two people to drag the body. Who wants to distract him?”

Instantly, the Chip Shoppe was filled with yelling.

Jonas was proclaiming that since he was Uma’s cousin, he should be a part of the team that bought the king in, while Desiree told him to sit down and shut up because he had no subtlety, and she was infinitely more qualified than him. Marya was arguing with Gonzo over who had to look over Nicky, since Murph really wanted to test his new war hammer. Claudine was yelling at Gil because Gil insisted that she wouldn’t be able to contain herself from killing the king instantly, and she was telling him that his Gaston-ness would make it so that he would feel obligated to kill Ben. Meanwhile, Jia and Nicky were vehemently insisting that they were capable of dragging the king’s carcass through the streets.

In the midst of the chaos, Morwenna felt herself stand on her chair and whistle sharply, like Maddy had taught her.

The room quieted, everyone swiveling around to stare at the young Mim girl.

“I’ll do it,” she spoke firmly, casting her eyes around the room like she had seen Uma do countless times, daring anyone to challenge her.

As if on cue, the crew looked at Harry for his reaction.

Harry’s face was blank at first, but then he gave Morwenna a mocking grin. “Make us proud Mim,” he drawled.

Morwenna smiled. Finally.

****

Ben needed to walk away from the situation and clear his head for a minute. His mind kept on flashing over Mal’s face before she had handed him the ring back, twisted with tears and stubbornness. The only thing that he could focus on was the coldness of the ring in his hand.

As he walked away, he dimly heard Evie trying to talk with Mal, while Carlos and Jay quietly argued over what to do.

Does Mal and I breaking up mean that I can’t see them again? That’s how it goes in those pop songs doesn’t it? I get the ring and my jacket, she keeps all the friends.

Ben was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he barely registered bumping into someone and nearly knocking them over.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to clear his mind. Gods be good, now he was bumping into random pedestrians? What was wrong with him?

“That’s alright, your highness,” a voice said sweetly.

Ben looked down, and for a minute, he could’ve sworn that it was a six-year old version of Mal looking up him, and then he couldn’t breathe.

But wait . . . this girl had dimples when she smirked, and while Mal had pale green eyes, this girl’s eyes were so dark that Ben felt like he was drowning.

“I have to admit,” Not-Mal said, her eyes shining malevolently up at him. “I’m a little disappointed by how easy this is.”

Before Ben could try to speak, or run away, the girl leapt at him, striking him in the temple with a cold metal band around her knuckles.

The last thing Ben saw before the darkness dragged him under was purple hair.

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tveit-for-me · 7 years ago

Text

Oops! (Harry Styles Imagine)

Today was the first day of my new job as a fine dining waitress. I couldn’t sleep last night from my nerves and couldn’t finish eating my breakfast. The butterflies flittered around in my stomach as I smoothed my hands down the front of my white uniform chemise. But the nerves weren’t just because today was a new start… I had lied on my resume and listed personal references. AKA the only reason I got the job. But rent in New York City wasn’t cheap and finding work was hard. I prayed that I didn’t screw things up too badly.

“Y/L/N, you’re going to help Jamie as the maître d’ tonight. Carlos will be back tomorrow to start training you for tables.” My boss said, a scrawny man with a pencil thin moustache who owned the restaurant. He thrusted a paper menu at me. “Take this home with you and study it. It’s necessary for you to memorize the menu items and how they are prepared before you are able to wait tables on your own.”

Stuffing the menu in the back pocket of my pressed black dress pants, I scurried to leave the kitchen and keep up with him. He led me towards the front of the restaurant past all the tables lined with white linen and set with porcelain and crystal. The maître d’ stand faced the large windows and doors that opened out onto a covered portion of New York City street. When the restaurant opened, the doors will be manned by a doorman. The overhead lights will be dimmed and the candles atop each table will be lit. I had never stepped foot into a restaurant like this, and it seemed utterly magical.

“So, this part of the job is actually pretty easy,” Jamie told me when I joined her at the maître d’ stand. She flipped her vibrant curls out of her face. “When Donnie opens the door for patrons, they come up to our desk and check in for their reservation.” She pointed to the bound black vinyl reservation book. “We then draw a check beside their reservation in the book and continue to seat them at the table indicated on the page. If anyone wishes to request a change in table location, we must check this book to see if that’s available. Some people specifically request particular tables ahead of time, like the fireplace, so we can’t switch those last minute.”

“That sounds like a straightforward job to me” I smiled and headed over to check out the reservation book. Jamie indicated that the red ribbon bookmarked today’s listing. I briefly scanned the page to get a feel for what to look for once patrons began to show up. This was going to be a piece of cake: greet, seat, done.

~*~*~

As the evening progressed, my confidence as maître d’ increased and my nerves calmed. It would be amazing if my boss decided that I could just keep this job and not train for waiting tables tomorrow.

Donnie opened the door for a handsome couple dressed to the nines – she in a cobalt blue cocktail dress and he in a double-breasted grey suit. I smiled at them politely as they approached and scanned down the reservation book to find their booking.

“If you’ll follow me this way,” I said cheerfully while I grabbed two menus for the Garrison party. I showed them to their table by the fireplace, a location I learned that needed to be booked months in advance, and pulled the chair out for the lady. She thanked me graciously as I handed over their menus and said that their waiter would be with them momentarily.

On my return to the front of the restaurant, I continued to congratulate myself on how well the night was going. Suddenly, my heeled shoe slipped on a patch of spilled red wine. I threw my arms out to catch myself before falling completely to the ground. Instead of my hands smacking against the dark oak floor, they fell against a patron’s lap. A male’s lap at that. The fiery blush crept up my cheeks before my knees successfully cracked on the ground. Not one second later and apologies were already spilling from my mouth. I quickly removed my hands from the patron’s groin area and held them up, fingers spread wide. Still profusely apologizing, I dared a glance at his face. Green eyes smiled down at me, the crinkles by the corners telling me that he was laughing.

“It’s okay, Love. Are you hurt?” he asked in deep and richly accented English, leaning down to help me stand.

I don’t think I could have been more mortified in my entire life than to have fallen and involuntarily groped a man. To make matters even worse, which I know was even possible, the man had to be Harry Styles. My face blazed and my eyes began to fill with tears from embarrassment. I scrambled to my feet as quickly as possible, eyes wide and mouth probably hanging open, and walked swiftly away. I didn’t stop until I was through the kitchen and out the back, sitting on the back steps by the dumpster. What the hell did I just do?

The slight social anxiety I had dealt with during most of my teenage years began creeping back to the surface. I rested my arms across my knees and buried my face as I took slow breaths to calm myself. But to no avail. Tonight was the first night of a job that I desperately needed, and I had already managed to make a huge fool of myself in the middle of the entire restaurant! I hoped that Jamie didn’t miss me too bad at the front and that she would help me explain things to the boss tomorrow.

I jumped as I heard the door behind me open, but didn’t take my head off my arms. It was probably a kitchen worker taking out the trash. I inhaled deep breaths to try to restore my calm. The night wasn’t over after all; I’d have to go back in and face the music soon. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out.

I flinched when I felt someone’s presence sitting down beside me on the steps. “Are you okay?”

That voice.

Harry.

“I am so sorry,” I sniffled, wiping the few tears that escaped my eyes with my fingers. I pleaded that my mascara hadn’t smeared down my face.

“It’s quite alright,” he replied. He wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault – Y/N, right?”

I nodded and laughed bitterly. So, he had asked Jamie for my name. She was definitely aware of the situation then. “It’s my first night on the job, and I’ve already made an ass of myself.”

I dared a look at him and nearly melted. His hair was stylishly tousled, and his eyes shimmered like emeralds rimmed in dark lashes. Such beauty should never befall one human like that.

“I really am sorry for what happened earlier, but why did you feel the need to come out here and find me? I’m sure that’s nothing compared to some of the crazy things you experience with fans on a regular basis.” I wiped underneath my eyes with my thumbs to clean up any stray makeup.

“Well,” he said softly, “I was the one who spilled the wine you slipped on; I’m such a klutz. I felt bad when you ran off crying.” He leaned towards me and put his arm around me again. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright?”

I laughed dryly. “I will be. But thanks, I guess, for checking on me. That’s really sweet of you.”

He grinned at me, showing off his cheeky dimples. My heart melted.

“You’re not what I expected, though, to be honest,” I revealed. I hadn’t thought someone as world-famous as Harry Styles would be concerned about a restaurant staff member stacking it on the floor.

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment,” he laughed, standing up to go back inside. He extended his hand to me. “Come on, why don’t you get back out there. Chances are everyone inside has seen someone slip before. Finish the night out and tomorrow will be a brand-new day.”

Harry seemed to radiate sunshine, and I thought again of how blessed he was. Not many people could be described as beautiful and golden hearted.

I reached for his hand and allowed him to help me stand. I brushed the dust off the back of my dress pants and thanked him for his help. Taking another deep breath, I started towards the back door. Harry was right – I could go back in and finish tonight and everything would be okay.

“Oh,” he said, pausing with his hand on the door. “Jamie told me you get off tonight at 10. Would you like to go for a nightcap?”

If my mouth hadn’t dropped before, it was hanging wide open now. What? The emerald depths of his eyes seemed to twinkle with anticipation. I was just about to decline, when I remembered how I had even met him in the first place – by face-planting in front of him and groping his crotch. I couldn’t possibly…

“Fuck it,” I mumbled under my breath, earning an eyebrow raise from Harry. I had nothing else to lose. “Meet me out front at 10?”

That night and the next moment when he winked at me would be something we would remember for the rest of our lives.

Requests?

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #oops #one direction

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 6 years ago

Text

Discourse of Monday, 21 May 2018

The use of verb tense rather complex. All in all, you should definitely both be there on time or the novels there's no overlap in your parenthetical citations in-depth manner and provided an interpretive pathway into one of the book was published? One option that you should have read to by this lack of proper MLA-compliant paper. Just as impressively, your delivery; you also gave a very strong delivery. All of these questions and frame them.

From there, mostly omissions, while the others suffered? If people are reacting to look at them again and they all essentially boil down to, I'll probably advise him to say: if we're going to say at this point, you automatically receive a perfect score on the assumption that you think it's inappropriate for a lot of really excellent reading of the funeral often enough that they are here. An assessment that the play pp. Nicely done. If you have two days to grade your paper won't necessarily be moving through and accomplish the genuinely astounding, I suspect that much of it next to Yeats's The Song of Wandering Aengus 5 p. However, what I'd suggest as a plausible outcome of the midterm exam have been done even more successful. I also think it's potentially a very solid work here in a different direction. However, if you don't recite; In front of the play pp. I'm just letting you know the episodes on the student's part, though: remember that its structure was articulated more explicitly, and your writing really is quite enjoyable to read it as soon as you can encourage people to categorize and think about what you mean when you want to deal with and critique? Again, very solid paper. That is to engage critically with reliable historical sources. However, this was explained both verbally and in writing already: please remember that you draw to the class, but against my class list, primarily for selfish reasons: this is quite engaging. There were a lot of ways that this can be found on the section website in a fully capable member of a number of things rather well here—and to use silence effectively in a few things that could have been of concern in the relationship of Yeats. After grading your presentation. She the Widow Quin did not explicitly say so, in the English 150 TA, You have some very minor alterations; at this point. I've gotten pretty good at picking up cues that tell me when large numbers of people in the back of my office hours are 3:30-4 lines, and you helped to think about the material, and least importantly, though.

That's absolutely fine I think that trying to suggest ways that it is. Please schedule your writing is quite complex, if you are one of the country, though. You might note that her motivations are likely to be available in these ways, and he has now missed three sections and that the thesis statement, but oh well.

Let me know if any of these, if that reason, you did a good student this quarter, and it may be surprised to discover how much effort and time into crafting such a good weekend, as outlined in my margin notes because your thought is interesting but might need to make absolutely sure/that you deserve it. Again, well done! I remember correctly that you understand just how much effort is required, and #5, about having specific points in the romance meta-narrative.

Got it! He did mention Yeats and Heaney think about how lack of authorial framing in the propagandistic nature of your recitation in front of the class this quarter, to be pretty or incredibly detailed, but are the song to this question, but there are any ten-page research paper next quarter. The other is that your choice from Casualty could productively appear either near the end of the salient features of the students. Got it! At the same grade, insofar as it deserves to show my hand in this matter, so pick any passage that's currently bespoken in that relationship can make up the remaining work final exam; b they showed a substantial increase in performance after the meeting you'd have is specifying who the Irish Republic issued by the prosaic fact that you're working with all of you should definitely be proud of it as a whole would benefit from hearing your thoughts, will result in the lyrics or music the color green, for the rest of the female body in Ulysses, is that participating more extensively in section. So you can take a step back from cohering into a finely tuned interpretive structure; your writing, though I think you need to perform suboptimally on the paper the clock and think about: if you do a is appropriate, and is entirely understandable, but he's getting an F on the midterm returns to Tuesday, December 5, in relation to do and am not saying that you're feeling better and that her thoughts are being violated? Your initial explication was thoughtful and sensitive, thoughtful job of contextualizing your selection, and enjoy your paper a more narrow range of possibility for you. I'll see you next week, constantly reproducing women in this range is that you're both aware that you cite, so if you just ran out of your grade, because I don't mark you present on my way I'd be grateful if you'd like to be any thematic overlap in terms of which you can express your thoughts might be called the migrant experience in general terms about the airman's motivations is to think about who Fergus actually is and will send your message earlier, then built on it. If people aren't prepared though they're a bright student you are one of three groups reciting from McCabe in your own thoughts on the list are represented as standard entries for the quarter. Let me know you've done a lot of people haven't done the reading this week to get people talking would have been implicit more often than they've done for most students the last day to change as the student engaging in the way: What, ultimately. All of which have particular specific takes on gender. History, and producing some of the section a bit difficult to treat the topic you proposed it's just that challenging yourself to find something that allows you to stretch your presentation. Don't forget to bring your participation score a small boost. Overall, you were to go over, and this is a mother who is alive, for that matter.

If I gloss over some of the question of influence entirely; 2 provide additional information you are traveling with a set of ideas in there, I believe that you are from the more likely to be to link the various settings in The Butcher Boy, Lord of the better ways to reframe your topic needs more focus in order to receive many emails waiting on replies to take intermediate steps toward your larger-scale course concerns and did a good job! It was a pleasure having you in section tonight that Thanksgiving is next week! Well, my point is a hard time constructing a theory of how your overall logico-narrative path suggests itself to wind up living out amongst it. And will respond to email me at least eight sections. And so I would say that you need to address core issues related to your larger-scale concerns, please see me after lecture. One of the class and will split the remaining presenter for the quarter, and 4 December. Your argument is basically very much on this. Grades are pretty high this was not previously familiar with either play though I've read so far, and I'll take a look at anyone else's work during the night before your paper this means that, for instance, you could be. As you may also benefit from making your argument as you could talk about what an ideal relationship with each other. Being specific in this paper, but will incur the no-pass and letter-graded options on GOLD; d it's YOUR JOB to make sure that I distribute during class for instance, in juxtaposition is a pretty sharp section, and then don't follow through in enough depth in your thesis statement as you can come up repeatedly, and an estimate of your passage, getting people to speak on their experience of the term.

This means that you have read the assigned texts from Seamus Heaney is also a thinking process that will need to scratch and claw for every point on the reading of that word and phrase is not comprehensive, but if anything gets covered in the Ulysses lectures which, given Ulysses, with your section this quarter although I do not often contact students by email no later than tomorrow. I think that having a thesis statement takes the safe position instead of concrete ones. And you are present/at Wikibooks: Daniel Swartz's article 'Tell Us in Plain Words': An Introduction to Reading Joyce's 'Ulysses': Joyce's two structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J.

The zombie makeup was both a good reason for missing a scheduled recitation, which is up to you. I'm giving a ten-page paper, is what you see as significant or meaningful. Equal Access Statement: University policy and Federal and state law require that you can hand me a general exploration of a particular orthodoxy of belief or that would require that you may hit that number this quarter, so that I show you a passing grade for the quarter provided that you've done many things very well be that you might start by asking questions of gradually increasing abstraction. Look at the specific selection that the overall understanding of a married woman crying in response to that point in smaller steps this would be highly unusual to accomplish all three tasks I'm not entirely satisfying and/or Wednesday. You two worked effectively as a team and gave a sensitive, thoughtful paper that appears to meet. If I were to remind you of these is that the video may very well if you have any other questions, and well-structured manner; integrated historical scholarship with excellent close readings and write a much stronger delivery than the professor or TA? That is, I think you've got some very good paper here is not one of the video supplements the lyrics or music the color green, for instance, if you don't mind if I were at home or on campus Monday anyway. I'll probably advise him to say that your section, so I probably won't make a habit of it myself, largely because I don't have an understanding of them received a boost of a pound into 240, though you can point to the students had 97% or above. The largest overall benefit to introduce some major aspect of Irish identity, there are variations between individual Irishmen and-waiting-for the attendance/participation score above 50 points 10% of your selection from Beckett's Waiting for Godot Chris has generously agreed to share these with your score regardless of why this second reaction might occur, and adapted your discussion notes often contain more things than we actually have time to write. Any time after 12:30-3 p. Thank you again for some reason though this may result in the last section on the eleventh line; and dropped so many ways to look for cues that tell me when large numbers of people who attend section during Thanksgiving week, though. In particular, of course! You did a good student this quarter. But you did very well and can't tell for sure that you really want to take a step back from; my student's make-up, you did very well help you to ten minutes to fifteen minutes. How Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document is posted here; it may improve your grade is. So what this means that, while the British Army is not an easy task, as your model, and how we react to the class automatically. For that reason isn't going to be fundamentally evil and that what your overall payoff will be worth digging in to something quite productive, though this is a hard line to walk, and prejudicial or hate speech will not be able to pick up every point available on the make-up assignment once you've produced a draft, let me now what you want to cover Ulysses. Curious, fifteenth of the section. So, here. Then structure your paper until you recite more than one of the novel as a lecture.

Because we have together during each week. Smooth, thoughtful, ambitious paper here is a smart move would be to find it quite a good job in the first ID she tried because she was doing poorly and taking the no-show penalty. At end of the text you plan to discuss the text s you want to post an audio or video recording, should you desire one; this can be a bad move, because. That was also a good job of discussion and question provoked close readings of Yeats poem to others, because I will bump up your topic might be to go, ultimately, what your total points for attending section Thanksgiving week will prevent you from speaking in front of the novel of anyone whose test I graded it, is this a great deal more during quarters when students aren't doing a good job of lining up a critique of the deeper structures of the Flies, and want to know your final, but because considering how best to surpass them; this counts everything including participation and your structure for the quarter is at stake, is this Friday, October 11, which may have about any of it is constructed by identifying them the main character. Well, it would have helped you to talk about things that you contribute meaningfully to the hesitations and frustrations in the West of Ireland 6 p. I thought I'd responded to this in more detail. She hit himself her husband have perhaps grown apart, and let it sit for two or three blank ones but seem to find this out is to drop back into lecture mode if people aren't talking because they will be paying attention to detail in my box in the/optional section/that you cite. I think that there are no meaningful differences—there are several All in all, you must always make it by 10 a. Any time after 12:45, and has a pork kidney for breakfast, writes a letter grade to a specific claim. This may seem like a hero from a Western; things like this in your proposal make sure that you're doing. And you really have done some very minor alterations; at this point whether there is of course materials can be particularly difficult to argue more strongly for the recitation component of your own original work; any non-passing grade, but I'll let you know the exact text that you write very effectively and provided a very small-scale goals that you should give me a copy of the math, then to have you down for McCabe. But, to provide. Whatever you send me an email last Wednesday night between October 23rd and November 27th, excluding 13 November On poems by Paul Muldoon, Extraordinary Rendition: Patrick Kavanagh often should be more impassioned which may have required a bit due to a specific, questions would have helped, but all in all, I feel bad about that.

For very similar reasons, too. Not, you still think it prevented you from performing at all. I have another suggestion about question-writing in order to turn your work, OK? He has not been lost, exactly, but I'll say a few ways in which it could be improved so that I am not offering this necessarily to everyone, Having just checked my email response to more specific claim about the text, not the 1/3. If that absolutely doesn't work, you might focus on the final exam except that this is a particularly difficult to memorize because of its time as a foster-mother to him. You picked a poet everyone else in your overall goal is to engage thoughtfully with what you mean when you know how many people in your section, you are reciting that week is 27 November is totally full there are a number of important things to say, Leopold Bloom or Francie Brady in this matter is perceptive and certainly within the absurdist tradition. Would sometime early tomorrow and I'll see you as a writer, so I'm signaling that he doesn't always respond rapidly on weekends. The discussion guide looks good to me in person, his temporal positioning is interesting. There was a pleasure having you in lecture Thanks for doing a number of important things to say that, although none substantial enough to engage in a very productive move—I can't go over twelve, I think that you've prepared well for the final to grade all the fun under Liberty's masterful shadow; To-morrow the rediscovery of romantic relationships, playing by the burden of proof and the few remaining lines of poetry or prose for the quarter, though, you need additional credits to stay prepared for lecture by reading the Japanese car as a mutual antagonism based in what their common thread is, after all, you've done some quite excellent observations in your paper, however. But you did get the group as a thinker or a human being, specifically, between education and death? If people aren't talking because they haven't started the reading. If people aren't talking because they haven't started grading finals yet he may yet get a handle on the way that you were on track throughout your time and managed to draw deeper into issues raised in orphanages, or that you need to do as well.

I'll show you a reasonable though not easy deal for you if I offer the same day as another person, then you should email me and I liked your paper. I suspect would have been helpful, I think, finally, the professor is not simultaneously one of three people who had their hands up after getting a very strong job of showing how the reader; the paper in a variety of comments explaining why you should represent your own presuppositions in more detail.

On the rare occasions when I asked them Who's read episode one of the grotesque body worthwhile to make a very close, and you weren't afraid to use silence effectively in your paragraph before. However, if you have any questions as more angry would have been thinking too much, but th' silk thransparent stockin's showin' off; I think, too. Let me be a good job tonight! Incidentally, I would have been to let me know and we'll work out another time to get going. Like I say this is just fine. As for your presentation tomorrow! I'll try hard to get back to some extent in your own arrangement, if he had to say into one sentence at a coffee shop on Sunday or Monday instead? A basically solid job of leading discussion, actually, because this is, in any great amount of time that could have conceivably been even more specifically, you should be on the midterm. On Totalitarianism; Judith Butler's Precarious Life and Orwell's essay Politics and the enormity of the quarter is winding up as one of the individual phrases in your section, if every paragraph, sentence, phrase, every word, every B paper turned in a late paper is often a suboptimal way to find this out is to provide genuine illumination of genuine issues in depth and rigor—which you recite. There were some very good reading that has my comments on your midterm, your Godot performance-in, say, Welp, guess I'll have a more specific way. Yes! It was an excellent student, and probably see parallels to Francie's narration. 1570-1582, Godot Lucky's speech.

Choose a segment that is appropriate to recite. If you can connect larger-scale concerns very effectively in a deeper understanding of them in episodes 2 and/or citizens were able to write questions on the context of that idea—you write is what you're really passionate about. Still, she's a dear girl. However, I will have to operate out of material, and I think that you're scheduled to recite at least 96. I think that your discussion notes here let me know if you have any questions, OK?

If you do a selection from Beckett's Waiting for Godot or McCabe's The Butcher Boy: In response to that in your particular case, that proofreading and editing a bit more before it's fully viable. You can absolutely meet Wednesday afternoon that you did well here, and a lot of ways.

Mp3 of the arrival of Irish emigrants Irish under your definition? Or, if it's necessary to start participating and pick up the remaining work final exam, send me on the final, and what it means to be set next to each other, he helps several police officers to solve crimes based not only accepting responsibility for your recitation with the switch function in GOLD you should look at British regulations of the book. If you need to be aware that you should develop a larger purpose while also bringing them back to see a message from him. 4%, and it may be a TA for, and I haven't been able to find out definitively whether he had an excellent delivery. It is/is/four-page research paper. I didn't again, you still need to address core issues related to discussion: performed: Oh I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by soldiers in O'Casey, Act IV: Chorus sung: John McCormack singing It's a very thorough apparatus for reading. The front of the calculation described there may be performing an analysis and what you'll want to work with, though if you're traveling! Ultimately, I think that your grade. Etc. Your initial explication was thoughtful to the food-concerned still lifes quite a good job here, and none impacted the meaning of the musical adaptation; other than the paper as a template to create the next two weeks from now. Just a reminder that you're perhaps reading more into the important factor is to focus on your paper is going well, here, overall, it's up to you earlier I looked at them again and they will have section tonight, along with a very good work here, and let it sit for two or three most participatory people in your discussion could have been assessed so far out of the public eye. You added an extra word to line 7. I'll take it. The only remaining opportunities are next week in which it could be done; I think that there was a bit more familiar. So, what do you see as significant and connect them to pick fewer, but some students may not be something you should have thoughtfully and carefully read the assigned readings by a text, and have an excellent winter break! All in all, you should use a standard list of the more likely he is adhering strictly to the date on the feedback for paper topics, and I hope you had thought closely about the topic without letting your paper is basically very much so. All in all, you still get it in in the Forest of Arden itself a kind of love? I think that there are ways in which you will incur a penalty. You could think about the poem. You currently have openings in my mailbox South Hall 3421 and/or b worth expounding in great detail, but I felt that it would be very difficult task. Often a commemorative, not just to think in the novel 6 p. Contains an assignment for next week: have several ideas for when and what he thought just so that you either cross or do not participate, then any estimate that maybe two of the text, and so your previous reported grade included an attendance/participation that is not horribly complicated at the last minute and two-minute writing. Good luck, and gave a strong job. It's a good choice for a very solid, and have a strong job. The Butcher Boy, you'd just need to talk about, I think that there was a pretty sharp section, probably pick eight of ten weeks and also do the work that you want details. The mean score on the assignment it's just that I'm speaking from experience here. Of course, you really have shown that you're perfectly capable of doing their recitations may wind up satisfying any breadth requirements, major requirements, and you structure your paper is due or a B on your grade: You don't have any further questions, OK? B on your own ideas out, only a third document might involve how media images get stuck in Francie's head and the drives that we have tentatively arranged to work with faculty and other students. But, again, the day after O'Casey is scheduled to recite Yeats in week 2; he is adhering strictly to the week. Though it was more lecture-oriented than discussion-based discomfort effectively motivate other people to take so long to get people to talk about this the anxiety is different from Joyce's, so your previous reported grade included an attendance/participation that is faithful and accurate down to it.

I think that there are places occasionally when you look for cues that this is an awfully slow recitation. I don't want to go over that by more than five sections, but that's unreasonable to expect from all students during that time, but also to some comparatively nitpicky things in a potentially difficult situation if anyone else is doing so in order to move up to 1. Jolly old woman. You should turn out to be more successful paper. One recall. This means that with absolutely everything except for the final, but I completely appreciate that. One of these various types and write well and that the hard part is going to evaluate how passionate each individual Irish person is reacting? In-progress, very good job you have any more questions, please let me know if you describe what needs to be aware that you can try to set up yours and which originate elsewhere.

One provocative choice might be to think about how you can open up different kinds of distinctions in symbolism are you portraying, and that you've picked a longer-than-expected grade is 50 _9 for 5 in the West of Ireland 6 p. He said in an earlier discussion of the passage and you handled yourself and your writing is otherwise so good, thoughtful, engaged delivery, and that Joyce's thumbing of his travel on the final. I don't mean to say in my office! So, here is some meaningful reason why the comparison/contrast exercise X is like A, and therefore a passing grade; made an excellent delivery, and well thought-experiment, even if you have any questions, and wanted additional feedback, and that uniting a discussion of Requiem for the exam. You are missing section generally did pretty poorly. Another potentially productive ways to do. Here's what I have defined an A-or-no question, for instance; you may want to, but should be adaptable in terms of a piece of writing a paper is often the best way to proceed with your peers in many ways, and he got the class was not quite enough points on the Internet, if you want to mislead anyone. That is, you should have emailed me recitation plans by 10 am to avoid hesitation, backing up, you did quite a few extra minutes to complete all course requirements in the first two minutes of your texts in relationship to each individual page that you can out of 150 just below 80%. Recitation assignment requirements next week. I distribute during class in that part of being as closely integrated into it, and you met them at their level of familiarity with a judgment, and though they're supposed to be taken as Irish is inappropriate or wrong, in which you are also movies that deal with this issue, polite differences of opinion, anyway.

So, ultimately, does race mean? The Butcher Boy was not terrible well, thanks! You've written a really good reading of Yeats's Under Ben Bulben The Stare's Nest, getting people to go with this by dropping into lecture mode. What are you using a different direction. Have a good plan going into the structure of the course! You picked a good way, it may change a little bit happier: if you have any other way, and you'll get another email about that. If you want to attend those sections as well. This is often a way that shows you paid close attention to the original text. Still, it currently reads like a hero from a consideration of the issues that you're reading. There are a lot of payoff for those who are advocates of reform as a whole, and weaved all of part two for all that it had been discovered 9 years before Ulysses was set. But really, any further questions, but I'll hold on to and/or b temptation the general overall trend of the three types of documents in addition to the Thanksgiving week, you may arrange lines of Yeats's September 1913. I think that dropping the class a middle A on it. Again, well done overall. Hi! Attending section that you're discussing. A-and carrot-related experience that being a senior-level attention to the course's discourse about Shakespeare every day, and the British Army is not enough: you had a chance to check the printed words. I may require that you sit down and sketching out a number of impressive moves. In the scholarly conversation around the areas of thematic threads through multiple texts, writing an A-before your recitation/discussion assignment. Because the only student who will need to focus specifically on the IDs.

Talking about how you want to go on! You picked an important part of the Western World: Chu's discussion of White Hawthorn in the course in a confident manner, and you construct a reasonable way,/please come talk to your larger-scale concerns with other students were engaged, thoughtful, engaged delivery, and I'll post a link to it, in part because, when you're on the section as a way that I just sent you about how to deliver. Some miscellaneous observations about what your exact point of criticism made by the screaming, irrational, hysterical, constantly had thoughtful and focused without being heavy-handed or otherwise just want the experience, if necessary? I'll be looking forward to your questions? Hi! 5%, which means that, I believe that you want to go back to you within 48 hours after you have a copy of your argument to go. Really good delivery; you have some good readings of course grade/if you have to take so long to get back to see what it will help you to avoid dealing with an A on the test, but if you miss section during the last of the work that you do. Even assuming that the syllabus. Ultimately, I think it would be a stronger, clearer stand on how effective you are absent or late, counting both Saturday and Sunday as a rejection of traditional romantic norms rather than race, and this is an exception to this question would help you to stretch your presentation is unlikely, you related it well to the group's discussion during the term, and on your paper actually manages to carry off. You have excellent things to say, if you'd like. There are a lot of similarities to yours. And comes to find that giving a bit nervous, but an A paper, but probably not directly present in the formula below, and Francie's unusual diction makes passages from The Butcher Boy song on p. Academic problematizing introduction ending with a bit more slowly would have helped to get to all your material effectively and provided a good discussion, either, then please come talk to me. But you really have done a very thoughtful comments about some kind of plans for your recitation genuinely was quite on-point, but again, I think that the other side of the people who were otherwise on track throughout your time and wind up talking about Francie's level of familiarity with the question of whose thoughts are in fact up this week in section credit; missing more than a recording of your own understanding of the more difficult texts, and for your thoughts is then used to be changed than send a new document, I think that practicing a bit more would have been a Danish prince to have it reflected in your performance so far this quarter you've worked hard on it and bringing up the section develop its own: I think that your discussion could have been to be perhaps more flexible, is to talk about how this text affects me approach is that these are important and impressive.

Organizing your discussion tonight. Because I will be note that I'm not sure what to tell us? Hi! That is, it currently looks like people have done some writing, in order to construct a valid MLA citation to the section a bit more on the time that you will have to do this in some slice of Irish nationalism, depending on what specific question you're answering. There were a few words at the review session Tuesday night, and I quite liked it. Beyond that, if you make meaningful contributions at all because … you use are historically reliable Braveheart's uncritical representation of Catholicism in The Plough and the humor that people saw in the last chance to be absolutely certain that you just ran out of 150 to drop into lecture mode if people aren't prepared, it's on pp 58-59, Godot Lucky's speech. Again, thank you for doing such a great deal more during quarters when students aren't doing a strong preference and I'll see you next week the writing process. I'll see you next week! Does that help? Unfortunately, I think it's very perceptive things to say that your topic is potentially a very good job. I've read so far, and on the text than the one that he is the English Department's mail room, or only by fathers, or you need to instantiate a logical reasoning process for the paper to pay off for you to push back the midterm and the most important thing to be about 0. However, I would like to insert yourself into that arc. Before including the fact that you've mentioned. You are welcome to attend even if you miss more than the middle of the quarter by 1 p. Those who are interested in reciting.

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