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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

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Marzipan

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton, Sophie Beckett Rated: G Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Just a conversation between my favorite in-laws.

Everyone seemed to be speaking at once. Even though Sophie knew each of her relatives were waiting their turn to talk, they leapt so eagerly after each other that any pause was indiscernible. Everyone was so fervent in sharing their own news, it started to sound like a wall of noise. She and Anthony were the only two who remained silent. She watched her brother-in-law at the head of the dinner table patiently nodding at each speaker, but his jaw was flexing in that way that signaled his mounting stress.

First it was Kate, looking exhausted, bemoaning how little Charlotte kept falling into tantrums that would not relent. Then Colin, arrived without his wife, repeatedly explaining how the roof of his townhouse was in need of repairs and how costly it would be. The aim of his musings was not subtle. He was clearly hoping to gather family funds for the expense. Next Violet, reminding them all that Eloise and Phillip had invited them to Romney Hall for the twins’ birthday and that gifts would need to be purchased. Lastly Benedict, sitting dejectedly in the rare cloud of gloom that only overtook him before his work went on display somewhere. He had entered a landscape into a charitable auction at Somerset House which began the next day. Even though he was long past making a name for himself as a distinguished artist, any time he revealed a new piece and particularly when that piece’s worth would be judged, he became restless and withdrawn. As his mother asked him about his entry he stared at the table, rambling that it wasn’t to his satisfaction and no one was obligated to bid on it and he hoped its purchaser would ultimately burn it.

Sophie let him grumble on. She had tried to soothe his concerns in every manner she knew how, all to no avail. This was simply part of his process and she had lost the energy to contend with it. So she sat in silence, listening to the complaints and worries and to-do lists of the family. She had been looking forward to dinner at Bridgerton House but now felt guilty for adding more dour conversation to the evening. Watching Anthony’s face, she could see how each matter piled upon him. She was reminded of when Araminta would confront her with a list of chores, demanding more tasks than were humanly possible to complete in a day and stressing that each one must be given top priority. She saw the same slump in Anthony’s shoulders as she had felt then, the same tight-lipped assent, and her heart went out to him.

When the meal finally ended the Viscount mumbled something about business and disappeared into his study. The rest of them gathered in the smoking room, Colin and Benedict breaking into the brandy while Violet and Kate discussed the children. With the excuse of seeking out a book to read, Sophie ducked out of their company and retrieved her cloak, pulling out the small box she had brought with her. It was a gift for Anthony, or rather, for the both of them. An assortment of brightly colored marzipan fruits. They were the only two people in the entire Bridgerton clan who enjoyed them and they seized every opportunity to share. They often kept their indulgences secret so as to avoid the tired ridicule lobbed at them by their spouses.

They had their reasons for loving the sweets which they had only seen fit to confide in each other. For Sophie, they were the only treat she had tasted for the first two decades of her life. Both her distant father and cruel stepfamily had despised the candy as much as the Bridgertons, but curiously always kept trays of it available for company. Being who she was, no one ever offered her sweets and she found that the marzipans were the one thing that would go unnoticed if nicked. So it was the only treat she allowed herself to avoid being rapped on the knuckles. The candies took part in Anthony’s early memories too. Afternoons spent with his father who used the small shapes to teach him the names of the fruits. When he had pronounced each one correctly, he earned the reward of eating it and had never lost his fondness for the flavor.

Package in hand, Sophie knocked on the study door and stepped in when Anthony replied. He was seated behind the massive desk, the picture of duty, intently scribbling between stacks of parchment. He blinked when he saw her.

“Sophie. What can I do for you?” His tone was polite but she knew him well enough to hear the undertone of vexation. He was begrudgingly ready to add her problems to his endless list of responsibilities.

Happily, she had none to give him. She smirked and held out the box. “Help me with these?”

After a moment’s confusion, his face lit up and he smiled back. She handed him the gift and he cut the ribbon off with a letter opener.

“Ladies first,” he lilted, holding it out for her selection. She chose a lemon and took a bite, standing by the corner of the desk. He picked an apple and popped it whole into his mouth. They savored in silence for a moment, grinning at each other.

“I don’t want to distract you from pressing matters, but it seemed you could use a reprieve.” Sophie explained.

Anthony nodded, the crease returning to his brow as he began to shuffle through his papers. “I have been…tired of late. I thought it was difficult to manage everything when my siblings were children. But now with all of these marriages, nieces, nephews, my own children, the estate, it’s…” He rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Many calls on my funds.”

“And your patience?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

Unlike other members of his family who might have asked the question in judgment, he knew Sophie asked out of concern. He sank back in his chair and grimaced. “Did it show?”

She shrugged. “No more than usual.” The smirk she shot him was so reminiscent of his brother, he had to chuckle.

Then he went back to signing. He had inked his name on so many pages that week, it was starting to look like a foreign alphabet to him. “Well, everyone’s perception of me is the least of my concerns, as long as the coffers are filled.”

Sophie stepped forward. “Anthony, please tell me you do not mean that. You know your family sees you as more than a purse.”

He continued writing without looking up. “Mmm. I’m sure I’m a disappointment as a brother too.”

She frowned. “You are my brother now and I wouldn’t say that.”

“You were spared from growing up with me.” He huffed.

“Perhaps that gives me the clearest perspective.” Her tone was soft, but so insistent it forced him to look at her. She settled into the chair across from him. “I won’t deny you a moment of self pity. But I won’t tolerate your self doubt. It is evident to anyone with eyes how much you have done for this family and how wholly you have succeeded. Would your siblings even have their grand homes, their respectable marriages, their roofs that need repairing, if you had not managed your estate so well? Would they all gather together so frequently and with so much obvious joy if you had not kept them all from fracturing over hardships these many years?”

Anthony swallowed hard, something stirring in his chest. A part of him knew she spoke the truth, but it was muffled beneath the well-practiced voice that had denied it for his entire adult life. Then Sophie fixed her eyes on his.

“Would I be here?” She asked softly. “Or would your brother have fled the country to scandalously marry a maid, never to be seen again? Other gentlemen in your position would have cast me out. Other gentleman in your position did cast me out.” She paused, remembering her absent father, her cruel employers, and how Anthony was the one head of household who had ever treated her with kindness. “But you embraced me. For the love of your brother and your dedication to your family. I’m sure it feels as if your days are nothing but shuffling coins and signing contracts but what you are doing is protecting us. Saving us. And we love you for it.” She gave him a small smile, eyes welling with the gratitude she hoped to express.

He stared back at her, blinking back his own tears. When he had first met Sophie, he couldn’t imagine anyone with whom he had less in common. Then over the years as his sister-in-law, she had proven him wrong again and again to the point that she became a trusted confidante, a dear friend, and the only person who would speak to him with such raw, uncomplicated honesty. Simon would keep him in check, but they both carried the bravado of their titles into their conversations. Kate of course knew the furthest depths of his soul, but matters of the heart and mind often became entangled with each other and the myriad sacrifices and obligations of marriage. With Sophie, there was no pretense. She had nothing to lord over him and he could let the trappings of his position fall away around her. She was the one person in his family to whom they meant nothing and he cherished her for that. He had worried he would rue the day when he finally relented and gave his blessing to her marriage with Benedict. Now, he knew it was one of the days that had permanently altered his life for the better.

He returned her smile, his voice cracking. “Have I told you how grateful I am for you?”

Sophie sniffed, her heart warmed through. “Not lately, but I forgive you.” They laughed, blinking away their tears as the mood lightened. “I do wish there was more I could do to help.”

Anthony sighed, shifting papers once again. “I know you have a head for figures, but all these expenses require my signature, I’m afraid.”

“What about the children? Alex misbehaved in precisely the same way as Charlotte when he was her age. I could share my tricks with Kate.”

He smiled. “That would be very appreciated.”

Sophie nodded and leaned forward to pluck another candy from the box. She stood and paced slowly before the fireplace as she chewed.

Anthony took a second treat for himself. “How long are you staying in the city?” He asked, mouth full.

She shrugged. “However long it takes for Benedict to work through his anxieties about the gallery auction. He’ll be buzzing around trying to overhear how his work is being received.”

The endeared annoyance in her tone was obvious. Anthony licked the sugary paste off his teeth and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. “You know, one of the Somerset directors is an acquaintance of mine.”

Sophie whipped around with a scowl. “Anthony, don’t. You must let him do this on his own. Even if that means letting him fail.”

“I only wish to help.”

“I know that.” Her voice softened and she walked back to him. “Help him by attending the showing. Tell him what you think of his work.”

He nodded, contemplating. “I admit that is something I’ve often failed to do.”

“You are busy, he knows that.”

“I’m not sure he’s ever forgiven me for the fiasco with the Academy.” He mumbled.

“He has.” Sophie reassured him, having had this conversation with Benedict many times as she helped him forge more confidence in his work. “He knew your heart was in the right place. He can be distant because he’s trying so desperately to prove his worth on his own merits.” She began to pace again, a degree of exasperation rising to the surface as she rambled, half to herself. “He wants to feel that he has truly earned everything and isn’t just praised for his name. But even when I show him all the evidence that he has earned it, he can be so insecure that he refuses to accept it. Sometimes I simply…” She cut herself off, turning back to Anthony, embarrassed and guilty. “I’m sorry. This is not your concern. This is the last thing you need.”

Anthony got to his feet and carried the box to where she stood. “My brother’s happiness is my concern. As is yours.” He held out the marzipan and they each took one more. “I know how he can be. You can always come to me if you need a sympathetic ear.”

Sophie smiled gratefully as she chewed. Her eyes roved, assessing his face as she shook her head. “The two of you.” She murmured.

“What about us?” He grinned. “Miserable louts through and through?”

She laughed. “Of your own making, you can be. You who care too little about how your work is perceived, and him who cares too much. But in one way you are the same.”

He cocked his head. “And what way is that?”

“That you care for each other.” She smiled. “You want to see each other happy despite how you struggle to communicate it. You Bridgertons may share one brain cell between you but the loyalty and kindness of your hearts is unquestionable.”

Anthony glared at her with mock warning. “Careful with your derision. I’ll remind you that you are a Bridgerton too. As are my wife and all of our children.”

“Yes, and I dare say we have multiplied the smarts in this family by joining it.” With a devilish smirk she moved away, scanning the nearby bookshelves for something to bring back to the smoking room.

Anthony snorted, crossing his arms. “Do you speak to your husband with such boldness?”

Sophie shrugged, examining a volume. “He can hold his own. But I save my choicest barbs for my worthiest adversary.” She flashed her eyes back to him and they both grinned.

Anthony walked to his desk, energized. “I will go to Somerset House for the auction tomorrow. If you might spend the day with Kate and the children, I will use the peace to finish all of this,” he waved at his papers. “Then I’ll join you in the evening.”

“Excellent.” Sophie beamed, grateful to see the resolve back in his posture and to know they had formed a plan that would hopefully address everyone’s needs. She always left her conversations with Anthony feeling better. He lent her strength and she hoped that she lent him some clarity and assurance in turn. She stood at the door. “I shall need an escort while my husband is showcasing his talent. I’m sure if a Viscount were to criticize some of the competing pieces the other patrons would think more carefully about their bids, yes?”

He met her conspiratorial eyebrow with a broad smile. “Indeed. Goodnight, sister.”

With a small nod she moved to slip out but he paused her with his final words, uttered softly. “Thank you.” She turned back, heart filled by the emotion that shone out of his eyes. “Thank you, brother.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @faye-tale

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett #sophie beckett fanfiction #bridgerton family #fluff and feels

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 3 months

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New Gossip Girl 2021 OCs

Dominic Somerset in Super Rich Kids ( x Coco Bates )

Dom is an up-and-coming British race car driver (who also loves less legal racing). He and Coco have been hooking up for a long time before she went to New York (they were often each other's plus one at events, he's been featured on her OF many times, they have fun) and once she moves, he starts spending a lot of time in New York to see her – tbd if he'll end up moving full time or just flies back and forth all the time

Devin Calloway in Tennis Court ( x Max Wolfe & Luna La )

Julien's twin sister, Devin has been friends with the squad since they were very little kids but from a young age it became clear that she was a tennis prodigy and that became her life. She practically lived at her tennis club, had the best instructors in the world and the best tutors to homeschool her in between lessons so that she never lost a minute of training, the goal was always the olympics

she grew apart from the group because of it, too busy to really have friends. It was difficult once Julian became an influencer, she always felt threatened by her sister's brand deals and fame, but by then Devin was always away at another tournament so it was manageable

but days before school started, Devin was playing in either the US open or the Olympics (2020 summer olympics that took place in 2021) and she does win but also sustains a potentially career ending injury – it will take time to assess the full extent of it but it will be at least six months before she can even consider training again, so Davis decides that in the meantime, she should get a proper education and "prepare for a real career" in case she can't go back to tennis

(Julian tries to act very excited and sisterly but does not handle having "competition" since Devin is properly famous and a huge influencer, and Devin does not know that she's starting at Constance the same day as Zoya or that Julien and Zoya are even in contact)

( title is actually not because she plays tennis (but also that helps), it’s bc of the lorde song + lyric “Everything's cool when we're all in line for the throne” )

(thanks @cecexwrites & @manyfandomocs for helping me iron these two out!)

EDIT: forgot that he hasn't been introduced properly yet soooo

Alexei Morozov in Pretty Isn’t Pretty ( x Olivia Olsen & Max Wolfe )

Exceptionally hedonistic son of a Russian mafia boss. Does whoever and whatever he wants with no apologies, does not appreciate Gossip Girl prying into his life or hurting people that he had claimed as his. Will see her head on a platter or die trying

#devin calloway #dominic somerset #ocappreciation #fyeahgossipgirlocs #super rich kids #tennis court #new oc #new idea #alexei morozov #pretty isn't pretty

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endlessly-cursed · 2 years

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𝑯𝑷𝑴𝑨 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓: 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒂 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒕 ; 𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏 ; 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 ; 𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒘 ; 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 ; 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 ; 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕, 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚, 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒆, 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍

portrayed by özge özacar (especially in turkish dizi meryem)

tagging @camillejeaneshphm who is the owner of caiden and beatrice

#magic awakened #hpma #oc: diana somerset #beatrice somerset #somerset twins #mine*edit

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myloveforhergoeson · 10 months

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Part 1 - Live Through This

the tasw high school story is finally here! please enjoy the first part <3

tw: mentions of an injured bird

Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life.

As Roxanne Somerset stared up at the motivational poster in the break room of the Project Pop radio station, it felt a little ironic. Work was work. Always has been, and always will be, even if she loved her job.

To her, it just seemed like an inevitability of life, like getting a cold or going to a new high school.

Undoing the combination lock on her locker proved more difficult than normal this morning due to the tremors wracking her fingers. So she let out a frustrated sigh as she read over the poster again, admiring the nondescript mountain background behind the chunk of text.

I’m so glad there’s nothing that stupid in the DJ booth.

Roxy had been awake for quite some time thanks to Project Pop - her radio show started at 2 in the morning because that’s when the station had the least amount of listeners. When she had shown up at the station three months ago begging for any job they could give her, anything that could get her connected in some way to the music industry, that was the offer they gave her.

There wasn’t any room to think twice before she accepted, even if a 2 am to 6 am shift really blew.

Since then, her sleep schedule had been thrown tremendously out of wack as she balanced her diurnal and nocturnal duties, so yeah, some days, work most certainly felt like work.

The 6 o’clock DJ, Ronnie, had come in to relieve her 20 minutes ago, allowing her some time alone in the break room to scarf down her homemade breakfast burrito before changing out of her comfy sweats and into her school clothes as the tracks he was playing in the room over lazily played through the speakers.

Showing up to school at 7:15 in the morning was already rough enough, but today, she was going to be the newest student to join the halls of Mountain Aire High. It would be stupid of her to show up wearing the most unappealing clothes known to man - especially as a mid-year transfer.

That was why her hands were still shaking as she finally reached for the combination lock again, doing her best to focus on turning the small, metal dial to the correct numbers instead of the knot of dread forming in her stomach.

Inevitability of life, she reminded herself as the lock finally clicked open, allowing her to open the small door and pull her black mini backpack out of the cramped space. Even if everyone else already knows everyone else, have their own assigned seats in class, and know who they can eat lunch with so they don’t have to awkwardly sit alone by the trashcans.

Steadily drumming her fingers on the faux leather of her bag, she placed it on the break room table before glancing up at the clock. It was only 6:30, and Mountain Aire was 20 minutes away. Plenty of time to get some last-minute songwriting in.

Though she had left her backpack and guitar in her truck during her shift, Roxy always took her songbook with her no matter where she went just in case inspiration struck and she needed to write one of her ideas down. Since deciding to transfer from Twin Pines High School to Mountain Aire halfway through her sophomore year, music was slowly coming to her far easier than it had before.

Probably something to do with the fact she was finally writing for herself and not the asshole who had roped her into joining his stupid punk band at the beginning of her freshman year. After he had humiliated her so terribly a few months ago, she ultimately decided to switch schools entirely to ensure she never saw him again. This semester was a brand new start for her - the perfect clean slate.

Though, now she was writing for a new asshole - one of the most famous in the music industry - and his ludicrous cross-country pop star auditions.

Whether she liked it or not, producer Gustavo Rocque was about to be her ticket out of Duluth, Minnesota once she wowed him with her portfolio of pop songs for his new star and whisk her off to Hollywood… If she could even put together a collection of songs she felt were good enough to show him. Based on his 90s career alone, he had to have over a dozen platinum records, but after Boyquake’s break up in 1999, he’d been practically radio silent. Nearly a decade later, Rocque was coming out of the woodwork and attempting to maintain his place in Hollywood history with a brand new star.

Roxy had only learned about the auditions through an ad her manager had given her to read off during her show. Rocque Records was awfully serious about trying to pull as much attendance for these auditions as possible; She was asked to read the ad off at the top of every hour.

There was, however, one issue with these auditions. Roxanne Somerset wasn’t a singer - In fact, she was far from it. She could write, she could play the guitar, she could perform in front of a crowd, but she couldn’t sing. Nor was she interested in singing or being a pop star at all, which she knew would cause the irate man’s famous temper to flare up once she walked on stage and refused to sing for him.

All she would be able to do was present her portfolio and beg him to take her to Los Angeles. Certainly, he’d understand.

So, I shouldn’t worry about school all that much anyway, Roxy decided, jotting down a note to come back to later in red pen as she grabbed her coat and made for the parking lot outside the studio. When inspiration wasn’t striking like she had hoped, Roxy ultimately chose to head over to MAHS a bit early and find her classes instead of writing. Maybe I can worry a little bit.

Of the two cars in the lot, a black Cadillac and a rusted, blue Ford truck, it was clear which one belonged to the sixteen-year-old.

Though, if she had the choice, she wouldn’t trade Dynamo for anything else in the world. Since her dad had found the ancient gas guzzler for such a bargain, Dynamo had been her savior since she had gotten her license right on her last birthday. Though she technically shared the vehicle with him, he was more fond of public transportation and catching rides to work from his coworkers, so Dynamo was practically hers and she just couldn’t get enough.

Sliding the key into the door and unlocking the vehicle, Roxy was quick to pile in and turn the truck on. Despite it taking a few times for the engine to turn over, the moment it roared to life, she placed her heater on the highest setting, shivering against the Minnesota-in-January cold.

Dynamo made a weird, crackling noise as the air began to blow out, but she ignored it as she popped a cassette tape into the player to drown out the sound as she took her new route to school. The familiar tunes calmed her nerves a bit, allowing her time to tap out the guitar chords she was attempting to learn on the steering wheel as she focused on carefully navigating the icy roads.

It had been her choice to switch schools and there was no backing out now, regardless of how nervous she truly was about the change. For now, all she had was the comforting sound of Courtney Love’s voice and the timeless guitar riffs of Hole blasting through her terrible stereo system to calm her down.

***

“Dude, get out of the road. You’re going to get yourself killed!” Kendall Knight’s words were cautionary as he spoke in Carlos Garcia’s general direction, his breath condensating against the freezing morning air.

That was one of the things that annoyed James Diamond about his best friend; Even when they weren’t on the ice, he still acted like he was the captain of their friend group.

I suppose that’s what happens when you’re the youngest MAHS hockey team captain in school history, the long-haired boy sighed to himself as he gripped the straps of his gear bag over his shoulder as they walked to school through a small neighborhood.

Through a poorly stifled yawn, his other friend, Logan Mitchell mumbled, “It’s too early for anyone else to even be up right now.”

As usual, Carlos ignored all of them and continued doing whatever it was he was doing in the street.

“Well, normally we wouldn’t have to be walking all the way to school either… I’m so pissed Hawkins totaled his Range Rover. We shouldn’t be all worn out before the day even starts!” Complained James, attempting to bundle further into his puffer jacket, causing Kendall to give him some nasty side eye over his shoulder.

A fellow team member had been the one to take all four of them to Mountain Aire last semester. Considering he was an upperclassman, he felt a bit of responsibility to look after his younger teammates, and Kendall had used his ultra-charm to convince the boy they all deserved rides.

“Try to make the best out of a bad situation won’t you?” The blond strained. “Yeah, it sucks Logan lives so far away from Mountain Aire, but at least we get to spend some extra time together before class!”

“And!” Called Carlos from the road, stopping to squat down and pick up a bug while the rest continued walking. “Hawkins’ dad will probably just buy him something cooler… Like a Rubicon!”

James hated this conversation as a sixteen-year-old who was unable to drive.

Well, not entirely unable, Hawkins had shown him the ropes in the Range Rover months leading up to his birthday, but his mother refused to let him take the driver’s test. It had been a source of tension between the two for quite some time, especially because he knew that she didn’t have any real reason not to allow him to get his license.

Of course, he had presented her with a handful of reasons why he should be able to take the test.

One, he’d be able to transport himself between his two houses far easier. Two, he could get himself to and from hockey practice and games without relying on his unreliable parents. Three, he would be the first of his three best friends to get their license. That point wasn’t as important, but it would still mean a lot to him. And his secret fourth reason, he would be able to get the hell out of Duluth any time he wanted to.

While he often traveled with his mom across the country whenever she had a work trip, it wasn’t much of a vacation if he was caught up in the hotel room while she was in and out of business meetings and beauty conferences. If he had a license, he could go anywhere he wanted on his own time.

The thought itched at the back of his brain, slipping into a fantasy where he’d throw all his belongings in the back of one of his parent’s multiple cars, hop behind the wheel, and hit the gas. New York, Los Angeles, Chicago… He could go anywhere and be anyone - Hockey player or singer or model/teen heartthrob. Maybe a singing hockey player heartthrob like something out of a Varsity Vampire movie.

It’ll happen someday, James told himself. It’s only a matter of time.

For now, he managed to jump into the conversation the other three were having about their game on Friday. They’d been training their asses off for the big game against Twin Pines all of the winter break and this week would be no exception. He cringed at the thought of their strict training regimen waiting for them after the last bell for the next four days.

Would it kill Coach Finnstock to let us have a few days off?

James could already feel the soreness of his lower leg and foot muscles from all the laps around the rink he’d make them take - Not to mention all the bruises that would adorn his beautiful body from the aggressiveness of the sport or getting slammed into the boards by some hoser on the opposing team.

“Woah! Look, a dead bird!” Carlos chirped, pointing to the bright red animal in the middle of the road and pulling his friend out of his own head once again.

That was certainly too gross a sight to interest James, but he’d admit his interest was piqued when Logan trotted over and assessed the damage. “Not dead… See his little chest? He’s still breathing.”

The long-haired boy watched Kendall’s head snap to the road from his position on the sidewalk. “Is it like bleeding or something?”

“No,” answered the helmet wearer. “But I think he probably has a broken wing.”

With a sigh, Kendall made his way over too, reaching into his hockey bag to pull out a spare towel. “Then we should probably move it, right? It’ll just be an even bigger disaster if we don’t.”

“Wait!” Logan stopped him, holding both of his hands out when he noticed the blond squat down to wrap the bird up in the white cloth. “We need to set the break before moving him. James, do you have any gauze from the med kit in your bag? I think I can make a makeshift split.”

While this was a scheme James didn’t want any involvement in, he was the only one of them to carry first aid supplies in his hockey bag. Out of the four of them, he was always the most concerned with treating his wounds during a game, lest any cut or other injury lead to a scar that marred his perfect skin.

Besides, they still had a ways to go before they reached Mountain Aire. A small break wouldn’t kill them.

“Yeah, let me grab it,” The boy conceded, dropping his backpack on the sidewalk by Kendall’s and carrying his equipment bag over to the scene of the accident. Mostly, he kept his focus on the contents of his bag instead of the bird on the asphalt before he pulled out the small white case and handed it off to his doctor-wannabe friend.

The four of them were quiet while Logan worked his magic, save for their slight wincing as they sucked the cold air between their teeth and concerned noises of sympathy from Carlos whenever the bird tweeted in pain.

Everyone had been so focused on their rescue mission, that they hadn’t noticed the ancient blue truck rounding the street corner, headed straight in their direction.

***

Roxy looked down for two seconds to check the map. Two seconds.

All it took was two seconds for her to turn the blind corner, glance at the large paper map spread out across her passenger side seat to make sure she was on the right road, and then look back up to see four teenage boys screaming in terror as she careened toward them.

It was probably a good thing her music was so loud, it drowned out the sound of her shriek as she aggressively slammed on the brakes that would have sent her flying through the windshield if not for the uncomfortable seatbelt cutting into her shoulder.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” She yelled to no one but herself as the brake lines screeched and the car fully came to a stop, inches away from a boy wearing a black sports helmet who had thrown himself in front of his friends, arms spread out wide and eyes tightly squeezed shut.

Behind him were three more guys, one kneeling in the middle of the road, one frozen and holding a towel to the kneeler, and another aggressively gripping the straps of a black duffel bag hanging off his shoulder with wide eyes.

Her hand flew to the stereo to turn the music down before she unclicked her seatbelt and opened her door.

What do you even say in a situation like this? The girl asked herself as she found herself standing between the four, her chest heaving from the anxiety coursing through her bloodstream.

***

It’s insane for me to instantly forgive her because she’s pretty, right?

That was the question James was trying to ask his friends with his eyes as his gaze shot to Logan, Kendall, and Carlos - Mostly to make sure they were alright after almost being pancaked to the black tar under their feet.

All four of them were frozen in place, trying to process what exactly had just occurred.

The girl from the truck was petrified too, save for the way she had managed to get herself out of the cab. Her hand clutched at her pink sweater, knuckles almost turning pure white as she looked each one of them in the eye and cried, “I am so, so sorry! The map- I just - Are you guys okay?”

For a moment she stepped closer to Carlos, like she was thinking about placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort before thinking better of it. The cold air was thick as the four stared back at her, watching the way her cheeks and nose reddened in the below-freezing temperature.

“Are we-” Kendall finally pushed out, voice raising with each word. “Are we okay? You almost ran us over!”

Though the words pouring out of him were harsh, James knew it was only due to his protective nature. Anything involving his friends was of great importance to the blond and this situation was no different.

The girl’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water.

“Do you know anything about bird medicine? We’re trying to save this cardinal and-”

Carlos’ words were cut off by Logan yelling back, “Done! Kendall, towel, now.”

At least Logan’s focusing on what’s important…

So many things were happening at once, James almost laughed at his sarcastic thought to try and calm the rapid beating of his heart. If he’d known the day would start with such a near-life-altering event, he might have put on a bit more cover-up on the dark circles he caught forming under his eyes when he woke up that morning. Just in case anything happened to him and his friends, he still wanted to make sure he looked his best, even in the face of tragedy.

Slowly, he watched Kendall take his eyes off the girl - still heaving and seizing her sweater - and hand the towel off to Logan.

“I, um,” She tried, and they could hear the slight break in her voice. “I don’t know about… bird medicine. But if I can help just let me know, it’s the least I can do.”

As Logan took the towel from his friend, Carlos and Kendall directed their attention to helping him gently place the animal in their poorly constructed but fluffy cloth nest.

There were a few more chirps, these sounding a bit more cheerful than the last, as the driver tried to apologize to James directly.

“Like, seriously, I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am-”

In response, James just shook his head and she quickly shut her mouth. “It’s alright… Mostly.”

At his words, she let out a loud, long breath and finally unclenched her fist from her top. The rigidness of her shoulders dissipated, falling from her ears down to where they normally rested, and the color finally began to return to her face. “I just looked down for a second to check my map… God! I’m never using one of those things again.”

“A map?” James echoed, watching as Logan finally picked the bird up from the ground, cradling it in his arms as though it were a small baby. “Are you not from here? We can help you find where you need to go.”

In exchange for your number! He almost tacked on before deciding against it. Beside him, Kendall looked like he was attempting to shoot daggers into her chest.

“No, we won’t!” His blond friend cut in. “Because we’re leaving; She’s going to make us late for school and you know how Mrs. B gets when we’re not in our seats by the bell.”

At the mention of school, James noticed her light up.

“School?”

Then, he caught her eyes wandering over to the bag slung off his shoulder proudly displaying the Mountain Aire High School logo.

“I was trying to find Mountain Aire on the map - I’m starting there today.”

Did I just feel my stomach flip?

Hastily, the girl continued, “I’ll give you a ride if you can just point me in the right direction.”

“We are not getting in the car with a maniac of a driver!” Kendall declared, stalking over to the sidewalk to pick up his backpack and hockey gear.

“Oh, but-” Carlos protested before Logan cut him off, “Kendall, the bird!”

“Right!” Their near-assailant cut in, “Kendall, think about the bird… Leave it in the cab of my truck during class and we can check on it at the end of the day. I can even take it to the vet!”

Selfishly, James found this to be the perfect time to cut into the conversation. More time with the new girl and a ride to school? There couldn’t be a more wonderful combination. “Sounds like a plan! Thanks for the ride…” He trailed off, realizing she hadn’t yet introduced herself.

“Roxanne,” She quickly answered. “Or Roxy if you think we’ve been through enough together.”

Cute name for a cute girl.

“Well, Roxy, it’s nice to meet you. I’m James.” He grinned, joining Kendall on the sidewalk for a moment to grab his bag before walking over to her beat-up truck. “And I call shotgun!”

#thats all she wrote fic #tasw high school au

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aswrm · 8 months

Text

Geoff Rickly in ‘Negatives’ by Amy Fleisher Madden

Transcript below

An Introduction to the Third Wave

Geoff Rickly

Thursday / No Devotion / United Nations

Everything is hardcore. Snapcase is hardcore.

Obviously. Strife and Chain of Strength and Bad Brains are hardcore. Sick of It All is hardcore, and they're from New York, so they spell it NYHC.

Shelter is hardcore and 108 is hardcore, and they're both Krishna, which means people call them Krishnacore. Earth Crisis and SSD are hardcore, but they don't do drugs; straight-edge hardcore.

There are so many little signifiers in place to help people know what's up, but each one of these bands does actually have something in common: They are all hard as nails. They're hardcore.

It was the mid-'90s. I'd moved out of the dorms at Rutgers and into a house on Somerset Street with my old roommate, Clay, and my new housemate, Louis. We were a good twenty-minute walk from campus, but the house was weirdly small on the inside; it got bad light. But it had a big basement.

Big enough to have shows in. Hardcore shows.

Luckily, by the mid-'90s, hardcore was everything, and everything was hardcore.

Converge was hardcore-full of guitars and drums that sounded like broken glass in a blender. But so was Rainer Maria, with twinkling clean guitars and dual vocals whispering and shouting in a joyous conversation. So were Ink & Dagger, in their corpse paint, smashing Aphex Twin electronics into Black Flag riffs. Fugazi was hardcore with a rhythm section that sounded like James Brown and a no-slam-dancing policy. Texas Is the Reason had twangy vocals and the most beautiful guitar parts that anyone had ever heard, and they were fucking hardcore-with the pedigree to prove it. They were one of the groups that inspired the latest wave of bands who were all playing shows in our basement, and in other basements like ours all over America: The Get Up Kids, The Promise Ring. Jimmy Eat World. They were all catchy and sweet, and full of youthful innocence. And they were all hardcore, too. Everything was. The basement show was like an Olive Garden:

If you were there, you were family-you were hardcore.

But holy shit, did we love to tease those bands— "You guys are so emotional, you're so fucking emo." Stick a tap in them and let the tears flow. That's all emo was to us: a taunt, a ribbing, a genre label that had never really stuck. I remember seeing Fugazi in the early '90s and someone yelled at lan MacKaye, "You are so emo!" His reply was simple and seemed to shut down the label forever. He said, "Emo Philips?" —forcing the crowd to think of the awkward comedian, with his strange bob haircut.

So, years later, when we had a great young hardcore band from Princeton play in our basement, we shouted at them, "Oh my god, Saves the Day are so emo." Their singer, Chris, acknowledged it dryly: "Boo hoo." Or that time when At the Drive-In destroyed the Melody Bar in front of a crowd of five people. I told them, "That was so good, I could have cried. but I didn't want anyone to thinkI was emo."

We didn't know we were already part of it. A joke or not, we were already emo. When we started Thursday, we thought we were just another hardcore band in the wave of hardcore bands that we looked up to: Saetia, You and I, Usurp Synapse, Orchid, Reversal of Man, The Locust, Charles Bronson.

Our friends. Our heroes. We were playing the same basements and VFW halls. We were buying the same vans and using the same dialers to get free calls on pay phones. We didn't know that, even as our own band took off, we were already emo, and we were about to be part of something new.

After Full Collapse came out on Victory Records-a very hardcore label —we spent a lot of time tracing the footsteps of all those who d come before. We played to five or ten people a night, occasionally landing a festival where we'd do anything to get people to stick around. "Yeah, we have a three-way split with Joy Division and Swing Kids, but we're sold out of them right now... Still, we're playing after Dragbody if you've got the time to watch us."

Then Saves the Day offered us a spot opening for them on a national tour. Our friend Dan from the band Joshua explained to us that Saves the Day was the biggest band in hardcore. They'd hit the indie glass ceiling-they'd sold 100,000 records without being on a major label. We took the tour - first of four in front of 1,000 people every night-and something clicked. The very next tour we went out on, we were the headliner, and it was entirely sold out before we even left home. Something was happening. We broke through the 100,000 record glass ceiling, shooting to 400,000 records. All our friends were right behind us, in the next couple years, hitting a million records sold and more.

The press has always been a little tone deaf, and they'd already been using the term emo for years, so they tried to find something new and catchy for this rapidly developing phenomenon. They tried screamo, except not everyone was screaming- and the bands hated it. Emocore, except that term somehow sounded even wimpier than just emo-and the bands hated it. They even tried the term xtremo, and tried to line us up to play X Games-type events, with cans of Mountain Dew stacked on our amps, but the sponsors weren't sure about the crossover appeal-and the bands hated it.

[photo id: geoff leaning back into the crowd. he is shouting, with one arm raised above/behind his head and crowd members’ arms round his torso]

In the middle of all this, I had the chance to produce the first album from a scrappy bunch of hard. core kids who loved Placebo and Queen and comic books. They were called My Chemical Romance, and by their second record, they would solidify something that had been becoming apparent for the last couple of years: The 2000s were the decade of emo. It was everywhere. It was fashion and TV and billboards. It was celebrity. It was gossip.

And when money gets involved, things can quickly go to shit. Emo got increasingly commercial. It was codified. It was slick. It had songwriters and mega producers. It had A-listers directing music videos.

The only thing it lacked was sincere emotion. The feeling was gone. A pretty tough break for a genre called emo.

By the 2010s, being emo was about the uncoolest thing in the world. The heavy hitters started breaking up. Not just the early torchbearers like us or our West Coast buds, Thrice, but the big guns, too.

My Chemical Romance called it quits, and suddenly bands started dropping likeflies. Pop singers dropped the emo haircuts. Things cooled off.

But then, half a decade later, something strange started to happen. The young kids began to go back to the roots of the genre, appreciating the earnest sincerity and adventurous musicality that made emo break out in the first place. The Hotelier, Teen Suicide, The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, Joyce Manor, Hop Along-these bands brought emo out of the boardroom and back into the basement, bashing away at a glorious noise until the world started to notice. This

"emo revival" was actually the birth of something new. It inspired Thursday to start playing again, and it inspired so many of our peers to do the same.

We've gotten the opportunity to see this thing that we gave our hearts to through newer, purer eyes.

Watching Pianos Become the Teeth and Title Fight and Touché Amoré burn with passionate intensity has reignited our fire. Seeing these photos, through Amy's eyes- seeing the vitality that has always been there-is much the same. It's changed everything, allowing us to restore a true relationship to our past work.

Recently, I had the opportunity to stand on stage with Thursday and watch a sea of kids scream along to these words from "War All The Time":

All those nights in the basement,

The kids are still screaming

On and on and on and on and ...

And it was pretty hardcore-emotionally speaking.

#geoff rickly #thursday #no devotion #united nations #negatives #amy fleisher madden

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amatres · 7 months

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there's more!

back with the priest, having a wife to be doesn't stop his ways and one night in the tavern he notices a very dangerous beauty, the very vampire who killed frederica's first husband

she must have a thing for redheads

the priest's habit isn't ended either, as even the countessa is soon pregnant after a night with him

unfortunately she passes soon after giving birth, leaving olivia, kathleen's new husband's sister whom she turned for companionship many seasons ago, to raise her child

perhaps this is karma for the people the two killed

with another family, the second richest family of the two, and the highest noble family, the matriarch has an affair of his own with his son's new governess once olivia, his original nanny, had to leave due to being turned. his wife does not appreciate this, and takes it out on sandy

however the noble and his wife eventually make up, as though they have no attraction between them, they were once friends and they are wed to one another nonetheless

despite becoming pregnant, sandy has to go so once their son becomes a teen and no longer needs her teachings. not that she minds, as now she can live an easy life getting payments from the noble while having the freedom to romance who she wants

in the somerset household, the twins and their younger sister all age into teens as well

dont you love seeing what they age up into lmao

nonetheless they also start to put their eyes on their romantic future, with the eldest daughter beginning a courtship with the nobleman's son, while her twin seems to be interested in a woman perhaps not as high enough status

their younger sister however turns her eyes to the fey, and goes out every night looking for them, as she's heard of the man in town who has been visited by the fey twice already. this could only bring ruin to her name, but she does not seem to care

kathleen settles into her new life, and the marriage turns out to be for the best, as the two's playing around resulted in her becoming pregnant and she gives birth to a child herself. her husband's employer seems to adore the new child in the house

of course life moves on, and the priest keeps up his behavior as he starts an affair with a rare female member of the guard, and gets a fourth woman pregnant.

and he visits what i honestly believe is his true love, the town's highest rank woohoo worker who gave birth to his first pair of twins.

talking about the twins, here's her daughter diana playing with her half older brother cecil

thats all for now as i continue with the second summer rotation of simshire, hopefully next time i will have been able to beat my habit of hitting the c button every time i take a pic and these won't be as washed out next time

#ama plays the sims

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opulcnccs · 7 months

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♙ ⸻ · 。… [ natalie dormer + 35 + cis female + she/her ] the city of new york welcomes agnes seymour to the social season of 1887, the fiancée of alistair arundel. known to be sophisticated and shrewd, their rumored self-important and temporal tendencies might prove to be their unmaking. the street musicians often string along a tune that sounds like red wine supernova by chappell roan whenever they are near, hoping for a coin or two as a reward. unbeknown to their peers, agnes views the social season as something akin to circe's eternal exile but when holding a secret such as having been caught in a scandalous affair with another aristocratic lady, resulting in her hasty engagement to a lesser noble and banishment to america , it would be best to keep their opinions to themselves. ⸻ [ xan + 24 + est + n/a ]

basic statistics :

full name : agnes josephine seymour

nicknames or aliases : she was once tenderly called 'aggie' by her father, who is now too old and too scorned to remember her

age : thirty - five

date of birth : 7 january 1852

position : lady seymour, daughter of the duke of somerset

parents : father : edward adolphus seymour, 12th duke of somerset (b. 1804) prev. m. susan margaret seymour, duchess of somerset (b. 1808 d. 1850) mother : jane georgiana seymour, duchess of somerset (b. 1824 d. 1859)

siblings : lady margaret helen seymour (elder half-sister, b. 1831 d. 1850) angus ferdinand seymour, earl of st. maur (twin brother, b. 1852) margery beatrice paulet (née seymour), marchioness of winchester (younger sister, b. 1854) lord edward percy seymour (younger brother, b. 1856) eleanor guendolen kearley (née seymour), viscountess devonport (younger sister, b. 1859)

marital status : betrothed to alistair arundel

sexuality : homosexual

the secret :

he was not the one to discover them, but the duke of somerset could picture the scene. his most favored daughter entangled in lavender sheets, exposed milky skin reddened not with shame but pleasure. he now saw that agnes had played him for a fool. she'd dodged suitors for years, all in the name of the love of a woman. what's worse, he'd been blinded by his favor for her and allowed it. her lover's family threatened to cry scandal; the lady's advantageous engagement now seemed precarious. somerset scrambled to find the nearest man in need of a wife, and offered agnes alongside a thousand pounds. and while alistair arundel was not a british peer, as a rather wealthy member of the gentry it was appropriate enough to not stir too much suspicion. the family's venture to new york city sweetened the deal all the more. had the cost of his intact reputation been worth it? he could not say.

thoughts on high society :

agnes had once reveled in society. the season delighted her with its parties and its drama— she'd happily participate in the former, but never the latter. she delighted in fashion, and wielded her feminine wiles to leave many cards opponents with empty pockets. but such a world was gone now. new york society came with a new hierarchy, one she hadn't been born into, one she hadn't had centuries of ancestors' shoulders to stand upon. she is determined, however, to rise from the ashes. even if that means gritting her teeth and dragging her lead-filled feet down the aisle.

introduction (tw: death //// tldr: gay nepo baby!):

"i am the descendant of edward seymour, first duke of somerset and brother to jane seymour, queen of england, lord protector for his nephew, king edward vi. are you familiar with him— no?" agnes's eyes rolled over them once, unsurprised at their ignorance. "all you need to know is that he reveled in power and influence; and just as quickly do the mighty rise do they fall." the apple does not fall far from the ancestral tree, she thought grimly. "i will not bore you with accounts of my upbringing, as it is nearly identical to my peers. nor do you need to know the logic behind grape scissors or the science of calling cards. the bright spots of my childhood were perhaps my father teaching me to play cards at an age at which i should not have been playing cards...emptying my brother's pocket of sweets at said game of cards...learning to ride horses...and perhaps any time i was with all of my siblings." "you see, the duke and his second wife, my mother, were quite...prolific. let's see: my twin brother and i are the oldest. agnus is the earl of st. maur, and my father's heir." for the first time in this conversation, her voice falters. "then there is margery, now the marchioness of winchester. then edward, who last year was married to the daughter of the 2nd baron methuen. and last, my most dearest, is eleanor, now the newly minted viscountess devonport. you'll notice that all of my siblings are in marriages so advantageous and respectable it is almost vulgar." she almost makes a remark upon her own upcoming nuptials, but as soon as her mouth opens it shuts once more. "shortly before my debut in society, i traveled to the continent with the dowager duchess of northumberland. i and the daughter of a welsh earl were to accompany her travels, and expand our knowledge of art history, architecture, fashion...essentially all of the things well-bred ladies ought to be an expert in. she became my best friend in that short year," agnes said, her breath choking on her memory. she would not allow her countenance to betray her... "a bond made over greek poets, french philosophers, italian wine and dealing with the duchess' snoring is quite an unbreakable one." ...and yet her eyes trembled with longing. "we, of course, kept in touch after. but her father adores the country while i was practically raised in london, so we only ever saw each other during the season." she omitted how in between she'd practically exhausted nearly all of sappho's known fragments in her letters, and sealed each missive with a lavender sprig. "in the years that transpired after my coming out, i was miraculously able to avoid immediate marriage," she continues nonchalantly, taking a sip of her whiskey. she nearly chokes on it at the sound of the scandalized gasp that escapes her counterpart. "indeed, i hold quite controversial opinions about many things, but especially marriage. i cannot elaborate now, for while this is america, i must retain some sense of propriety. admittedly, i also have the privilege of my status in addition to my beautiful — docile — younger sisters who are more than willing to go to the altar and what's more, there's no relentless mama spending her life trying to force me down the aisle. my papa also once believed that no man was a match for me." "but you are now engaged to alastair arundel, are you not?" "an astute observation." she glances across the room at her intended. agnes was sure that she was as perplexing to him as he was to her. while untitled, the arundel's vast wealth rivaled that of any aristocrat. it was rumored that royal norwegian blood flowed through their veins, but officially, they were but landed gentry. he was not unattractive — strictly objectively speaking — and he seemed well-mannered. why had he not yet married? she did not know. she did, however, know this: he would have his secrets, and so would she.

connections :

old money adversaries / new money allies : any newcomer that threatens the delicate ecosystem of new york high society is bound to garner attention, both positive and negative. agnes herself is acquainted with longstanding families, their daughters having been unceremoniously thrown at her brother last season. she's unsure of how they'll react to her fall from grace, the details however obscured. but it's from the newcomers that she finds inspiration, her ambitions renewed.

infatuation : agnes still has not yet moved on from her first love, but she can't deny that someone has caught her eye. usually bold in her actions, her scandalous past has made her timid. very much so_hot_you're_hurting_my_feelings_ by_caroline_polachek.mp3

fellow londoners : hailing from an influential family, agnes knows positively everyone in london town. her opinions of them? likely less than sunny, but who knows?

can u guys tell my brain is fried from writing that mammoth intro lol tbh i'm better at one on one plotting than putting out wanted connections, so hmu <3

#i had this really slay idea to write her intro in first person #i fear i may have slayed too close to the sun #gildedintro #by xan.#(gifs by me lolz)

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