#banquet planning

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 43

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FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.

There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.

FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.

For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.

FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.

FF kind of likes finals week.

For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.

He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.

“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.

“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.

“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.

“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.

“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.

“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.

“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.

“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”

“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?

“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.

“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.

“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.

“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.

The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.

He heard a crash.

“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.

He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”

FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.

Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.

He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.

***

Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)

FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.

The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.

“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.

“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.

“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.

“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.

“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.

“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.

“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.

“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.

“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.

“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.

“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.

“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.

They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.

Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.

Meeting new people.

NEXT >>

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

[void-writing]

@centuryberry

An illustration of my personal prediction for what might happen next chapter in “Queen of the Mountain."

Props to @fantasy-angelo for coming up with a design for Yue that I referenced in this :)

[spockvarietyhour]

Zubak's face looks like he just got speared

[love-too]

I sometimes lay in bed before going to sleep and think back on the delicious food I had for dinner. This is the real aroace experience for me

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Lady Erridge has a revelation about Trevelyan and the Commander.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 1,840. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 23: Meddlesome Women

Now that Skyhold had settled down after all that excitement of the earthquake, Lady Tam Erridge decided she would take her afternoon walk.

Lady Erridge believed that no less than three walks a day were absolutely necessary for one to maintain a positive outlook on life. Fresh air and sunlight, she believed, were excellent for the mood.

And there was the added benefit that she could see all the banquet invitees arriving from the battlements, and, if she squinted her eyes, judge their manner of dress with extreme prejudice. She liked the Bann of the Waking Sea’s practical travelling gear. She did not like the Comtesse Bervard’s gown.

But eventually, this well of entertainment ran dry. Lady Erridge made her way back off the castle walls, and towards a place more proper for one such as her to be seen—the lovely gardens.

The gardens were quite in her good opinion. They reminded her of the ones at home—despite being much smaller—and also of the flowers dear Lady Orroat had sent her. Those poor things were dying off now, but Erridge had been sure to press as many as she could. She had plans to include some in her next letter home.

So pleased was she by these thoughts of dear Orroat, that Lady Erridge almost missed the sight of the Commander emerging from the keep. But the glint of his armour caught her eye, and she found herself quite abruptly dragged from her imagination.

“Commander!” she called. “Oh, Commander!”

It was too late for him to disappear back into the keep now. By the time he looked up and saw her, she was already most of the way over. She had even scooped her fluffy pink skirts into her hands, so that she might run faster.

“Oh, Commander, I am so glad to see you up and well,” she said.

And indeed, he did look well. Nothing like what Lady Trevelyan had described seeing, thank goodness—though perhaps his stubble was a little longer than usual. But Lady Erridge believed it perhaps suited him, to look somewhat more rugged. She would have to ask what Lady Trevelyan thought of it, later.

“Thank you, Lady Erridge,” said the Commander, politely. His voice was still stuck in that monotone he always used. “I was just on my way to—”

“Oh, yes, of course, I shan’t delay you long—I merely wished to come up and say how glad I was to see you well, and to tell you—”

The Commander settled in to where he stood.

“—how terribly sorry I was if the apple crumble I sent to you had absolutely any involvement at all in your sickness. Truly, I meant it only as a kindness.”

“It’s all right,” he told her. “It was… a different sort of sickness. The crumble was… good.”

Lady Erridge heaved an enormous sigh. “Oh, I am ever-so-glad to hear it. Lady Trevelyan said as much, and told me you enjoyed it terribly.”

“Ah… yes.” He began to step around her. “Now, I must—”

“Oh, but”—Erridge jumped into his path—“Commander, I simply cannot allow you to go without admitting to you a truth that has been weighing on my mind these past three days. Lady Trevelyan told me she would have none of the credit, but being that you enjoyed it so, I simply must tell you: it was not I alone who made that crumble. Lady Trevelyan gave me all her help.”

The Commander settled again, though this time more comfortably. It was the first time Lady Erridge had seen his stern gaze soften so.

“Oh.”

“I made quite a mess of my first attempt, you see,” said Erridge. “Lady Trevelyan swept in, so brilliantly, and helped me to clean up and try once more. It was she who cut the apples—and baked it, too! Oh, she was simply lovely. Perhaps she will help me make pickled eggs, to speed your recovery!”

The Commander smiled. Lady Erridge could scarcely believe it.

“She is a good woman,” he murmured, “a very good woman.”

“Indeed. She was so excellent at calming me down. Oh, she is ever so wonderful to talk to, isn’t she? Though, not quite as wonderful as my Lady Orroat—but no one’s conversation can compare to hers. It is as if… do you understand, if I say that it is so easy to talk to her, it feels like breathing?”

The Commander paused a moment, his eyes gazing away as if at nothing at all. “...I do.”

Lady Erridge opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. In a second that felt as forever, she studied his face. Every wrinkle his smile caused. All the softness in his eyes. That little blush upon his cheeks. Maker, no. It couldn’t possibly be...

The thought ought to have made her heart break. Yet instead, Lady Erridge smiled.

“She talks quite well of you, you know.”

The Commander startled. “I…?”

“Lady Trevelyan, I mean,” Lady Erridge said, her excitement growing by the second. “Says very nice things about you. Very nice.”

“Oh… I see. Well, ah…”

“You know,” interrupted Erridge, practically jigging, “I have just recalled that I have not yet sent my dear friend Lady Orroat the reply she will be waiting upon, and I do wish to do so before the sun sets. Farewell, Commander!”

“Oh—ah!”

Leaving him in confusion, Lady Erridge moved as a blur, running for the keep door. She burst into the Great Hall, giggling and laughing, and ran straight for the Lady Montilyet’s parlour.

“Lady Erridge!” exclaimed the Baroness, as Erridge barged through the door. She sat, sewing as usual, whilst Lady Samient reclined, reading, on the sofa.

Erridge collided into the back of it. “I have most exciting news!”

Lady Samient pushed herself to sit upright. “What is it?”

“The Commander is in love with Lady Trevelyan!”

The Baroness and Lady Samient looked at one another.

“Really!” said the Baroness, placing a hand upon her chest. “My, are you certain? How did you discover this?”

Lady Erridge prepared to respond, but was interrupted by Lady Samient:

“Baroness,” she scolded. “I know you are trying to be kind, but I am afraid it is patronising at best.” She looked to Erridge. “We already knew.”

Lady Erridge deflated like a popped pigskin. She stomped over to and collapsed upon her usual seat, ruffles and bows puffing out on impact. “Why did no one tell me?” she complained.

The Baroness gave her a sympathetic smile, and explained, “We did not wish to break your heart.”

“My heart isn’t broken!” Erridge insisted. “In fact, it’s rather full. Lady Trevelyan quite deserves love, and if the Commander is the one who can give it to her, then I will certainly not stand in their way. I think they could be sweet.”

“The only problem is,” said Lady Samient, “Lady Trevelyan does not want his love.”

Lady Erridge sat bolt upright. “Now it is you who is quite behind, Lady Samient! For I would certainly say that Lady Trevelyan holds the Commander in high regard. Why else would she go to such trouble to make him love one of us, if she did not think him worthy of love?”

The Baroness concurred: “I do believe she projects her affection for him so as not to feel it so keenly.”

Lady Samient tipped her head. “Fair. But if that is so, we should not meddle.”

“What?” gasped Erridge. “After all Lady Trevelyan has done for us? I say, from this day on, we use our time with him to make him hers, lest it be rendered useless!”

“That implies there was any use to it in the first place.”

“Lady Samient,” the Baroness scolded, in much the same tone as Samient had scolded her. “I do agree with Lady Erridge, we ought encourage their blossoming affection. However, I do not believe we should be blatant in our efforts. A simple steer, here and there, rather than a forceful push.”

“Such as?” Samient wondered.

“Something at the banquet tomorrow, perhaps.”

“We could have them sit together!” Erridge suggested, applauding her own idea. The Baroness nodded in agreement, directing her cane at Erridge:

“Exactly that.”

Lady Samient shrugged. “I suppose that is—”

The door opened, and the Ladies silenced themselves at once. With perfect practice, Touledy took up her sewing, Samient returned to her book, and Erridge looked the classic idle noblewoman.

Fortunate they were, for this quick thinking and practiced performance, as the one who walked in was Lady Trevelyan herself. Clearly, she had been through quite the day, if the layer of dust upon her smock was anything to judge.

“Ladies,” she greeted, before noticing their eyes on her dress. She glanced down, and tutted. “Maker! My apologies—I’ll be a moment.”

She stepped out of the room, briefly. The slapping of hands against fabric, like the beating of carpet, could be heard through the door.

In the moment they had, Lady Erridge instructed the others: “Not one word to her, agreed?”

They nodded.

Trevelyan returned, none the wiser. “How do I look now?” she asked.

“Beautiful as ever,” the Baroness told her, to no disagreement. “Though I do hope you have something else to wear to the banquet tomorrow.”

“Ha, naturally,” replied Lady Trevelyan, finding her seat. “I have just seen it to the laundry now, for the creases it sustained during its journey here. Mother had it sent specially from a dressmaker in Denerim.”

“Has the guest list intimidated her so?” Lady Samient teased.

Trevelyan chuckled. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Well,” said the Baroness, pulling a stitch taut, “I am eager to hear more of this attire.”

“I do not know what else to say of it,” admitted Trevelyan. “It is a dress. It’s a sort of… plum colour, I suppose. Embroidered, at the edges.”

“Plum? I see.” The Baroness rose, with another set of needles and thread and fabric in her hand. “Lady Erridge,” she said, walking over, “would you sew an elfroot onto this hankerchief, for me? You stitch leaves so beautifully.”

Lady Erridge assented, and raised her hands to accept the task. But the Baroness leant down a little further than she had expected.

“We must find out what the Commander is wearing tomorrow,” Touledy whispered.

“Why?” wondered Erridge.

“Because”—the Baroness winked—“we shall have them match.”

She pulled away and returned to her seat, leaving a starry-eyed Erridge in her wake. It was little wonder how Trevelyan noticed this, given that Lady Erridge, in her reverie, did not even acknowledge the sewing equipment that had just been handed to her, let alone touch it.

“Are you all right, Lady Erridge?” she asked.

“Oh!” Erridge hastily composed herself, snatching up a needle and thread as proof. “I am simply fine, Lady Trevelyan. My excitement stems from thinking of the banquet tomorrow.”

“You think it will be good?”

“No, your Ladyship,” Erridge said with a smile, “I think it shall be perfect!”

[prommytheus]

now for the psychopomps! this format is actually hilarious btw im having the time of my life

[fortjester]

actually. lately ive been thinking abt harrow’s letters. there’s 24 of them. we only see a few. maybe like? 7? total?? what are the other letters, tazmuir

[casbitchh]

shiiiit i think this guy im hoping to collaborate has actually been hitting on me when ive been trying to network FUCK

[impossible-rat-babies]

I am saying it now that I really do truly love alphinaud a great deal, and can also say in the same breath that he was an insufferable child whom I did not like

[altruistic-meme]

hey for (wit)jitp, are Andrew and Neil gonna dance together again?

!!!

they are :) they still have 2 banquets, after all!

[dummygutsart]

Blessings of Chauntea shine upon ye! As autumn descends on the Dessarin Valley it can only mean one thing: those two fucking assholes in Womford are baking up a storm again

[hopalongfairywren]

This is a fic I wrote recently go check it out https://archiveofourown.org/works/53093737

[frizzy-frizz-frizz]

arospec bisexuals allison reynolds and kevin day showing up in matching aro themed outfits send post

[gengarpng]

The cool thing about working for big businesses is that it's always the people who sit behind a desk all day that make all the decisions despite having no experience anywhere else in the building outside their offices.

[akkivee]

i have been so confused by this weird gradient bar on the side of this particular shot of kuukou like genuinely why is it here?????

but am i crazy or does it look really similar to the gradient used for the 9th live text??????