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cinderswrites · 11 months ago

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Daffodil Dreams :: Festive Spirit

A Coral Island Fanfic

Playlist || Cover Art || Mood Board

Themes: Slice of Life, Romance, Fluff, maybe some Angst, maybe some Smut (not too graphic but graphic enough)

MDNI || OC x Rafael mainly, OC x Twins (friendship only), other characters featured here and there || WC: 3,104

Content Warning: Mildly graphic medical procedure

The next morning, Cinders was fishing in the nearby rice fields. The air was crisp after an overnight drizzle, and she could feel the beginnings of a warm day as she stood on the wooden platform, casting into the rice fields. Nearby sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing sang their morning melody as the forest near her began waking up.

Her right hand was still painful and it throbbed with the effort of reeling in and casting, but she was able to ignore it. She needed something for the potluck soup today and figured she’d fish up a crab. It took a couple of hours before she found one that looked good enough to take in and she began walking back to her farm with her catches dangling on the chain hook she attached to her bag.

Kenny, the son of the ranchers who lived behind her, waved to her as she strolled past. The sun was peeking over the trees as it made its way across the pale blue sky, sending streaks of fading pink light to signal morning was in full swing. “Mornin’, Cinders!” the young man called out, accented with one of his brilliant smiles. “You’re up early.”

Bessie, his treasured cow, seemed to moo in agreement. Cinders slowed her steps as she walked by and gestured to her back. “Morning, Kenny! I was fishing for the soup later on,” she replied.

“Ooh, hope you got a good one! See you there.” He grinned again and tipped his hat to her as she continued towards her farm.

In her cozy little cabin, she prepped the crab and began making some frybread using her grandmother’s recipe that she was taught at a younger age. There were still a couple of hours before she had to go to the clinic for the bandage change and then to the festival, so she worked diligently mixing the dough, kneading it, and breaking it into separate pieces, frying them a few at a time.

After almost an hour and a half, she had a large picnic basket filled to the brim with bread. Cinders cleaned her kitchen quickly, then went to her wardrobe to pick something out. She browsed through her clothes, most of them some variation of pants or leggings with faded graphic tees. She had a few special dresses, and she chose one that was white linen with small blue flowers dappled over it. She brushed out and braided her hair down her back, tying it off with a white ribbon.

In the body-length mirror on the inner door of her wardrobe, she made sure her face was clean from any stray specks of flour that may have landed on her. Finally, she swapped her slip-on sneakers for a pair of comfy sandals and grabbed the basket with the bread and the small dish with the cleaned crab inside. She slung a smaller handbag over her shoulder as well.

The walk past Garden Lane and through Starlet Town was relatively unremarkable. The day was bright and warm with a cool breeze sifting through the trees and the streets, and most people were on their way to the festival. She passed by Sam’s shop, seeing him and Emily getting ready to leave from the window she looked through. She passed by Bonbon, the friendly brown fluffy labradoodle that belonged to the small blond child. I think her name is Zoe. I should commit these names to memory.

Her idle thoughts kept her company as she approached the clinic. She opened the door with one arm, pulling herself and the basket hanging from her elbow through. No one was at the desk, but the door had a bell on it, and she heard an “I’ll be right there!” come from within the clinic.

She set the basket onto the counter and waited patiently as Charles shuffled from the back exam room, muttering to himself about inventory. He looked up as he approached the counter and smiled. “Ah, Cinders! Here for your bandage change?”

“Yep!” she chirped, holding up her hand. “I did my best to keep it clean, but I’m afraid I might have gotten some flour in it.”

“Flour?” The redhead looked at her quizzically before his blue eyes settled on the basket. “Oh! Did you make bread for today?”

“Yes. My grandma’s frybread recipe,” Cinders grinned, puffing out her chest proudly.

Charles’ eyes sparkled. “I don’t believe I was living here when your grandparents were still around, but I’ve heard tales about Ina’s frybread. I can’t wait to try some at the festival!”

He waved his hand at her and together they walked back to the same exam room as the day before. A few moments later, she was seated on the exam table and he had her hand on the tray with some clean bandages and antiseptic. He unwrapped her hand carefully and pulled away the gauze. A few stringy strands of it pulled at the edges of her skin where it had gotten stuck and made her take a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry about that,” Charles murmured as he tilted her hand back and forth, examining the small wound.

“It’s okay,” she replied softly, looking at the wound and seeing the edges of the cut looking moist and white, like skin ready to peel. He removed the butterfly bandages and reached for an alcohol swab, cleaning around the wound with his gloved hands once more. He added more antiseptic ointment before placing down a fresh piece of gauze and wrapping her hand with the self-adhesive wrap again, this time in a pink color.

“It’s looking good,” he told her as he pulled off his gloves and began cleaning up. “No need for the butterfly band-aids this time, and you should be healed up in a week or so. Starting tomorrow, take the wrap off and let it air dry, try not to get it dirty, okay?”

Cinders listened to his instructions and nodded. She slid off the exam table, standing up and flexing her hand open and closed. “Thank you, Charles! I’ll see you in a bit at the festival, then?”

He nodded. “Yes, see you then!”

She gave a small wave as she walked back out to the lobby area and grabbed her basket. Leaving the clinic, she was greeted with the breeze carrying the salty smell of the sea towards her and she smiled up at the clear sky. She could already hear the buzz of people chatting over in Alun-Alun Square.

Cinders walked up the steps behind the clinic, turning left to walk around the Victorian Mansion that belonged to Randy, Ling, and Leah. She trotted up another set of stairs until she was on the path that led straight to the square where the festival was being held. She smiled at the librarian, Millie, before she continued walking into the festival.

All around her was an array of delicate pinks; pillows, blankets, and trees. Almost everywhere she looked, she saw pink. She saw most of the townspeople as well, smiling and saying a quick “Hello!” while on her way to the long spread of food. As she approached, Frank, the owner of Fishensips, visibly brightened and waved at her. “Cinders! Hey, you made it!”

She grinned, holding up her basket. “Of course I did!” she said, “And with food, as well.”

He eyed the basket, scratching his chin. “What did you bring?”

“Grandma Ina’s frybread,” she said, finally walking up to one of the long tables and placing the basket on top of it. “There’s about a hundred pieces in there, so everyone should have enough.”

He laughed, and his mother, Betty, joined in as well. Betty reached over and placed one of her aged hands on Cinders’ arm gently, “You’re so sweet to be carrying on your grandmother’s recipes. I miss that old bird something fierce. Is she well, dear?”

Cinders nodded enthusiastically, “Very,” she told the older woman. “She told me in her last letter to tell you not to bend over backward making tumpeng this year.”

Betty laughed airily, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Oh, of course, she would say that. You make sure to let her know it’s tradition!”

“I will,” the young woman smiled brightly. She remembered something else suddenly, and reached into her handbag, rummaging around for a moment. “I have a gift for you.”

Betty’s face brightened. “Oh?”

Cinders pulled out a daffodil hair clip, knit with soft yellow yarn. She gestured to Betty’s hair and the old woman nodded. With careful hands, she clipped the daffodil into Betty’s black and gray hair, just above her left ear. “There you go!”

“It’s so beautiful, Cinders!” Betty praised. “How did you know that daffodils are my favorite flower?”

Cinders’ face turned rosy as she smiled shyly, “Grandma Ina made it and sent it with her last letter.”

“You’ll have to get me her address soon so I can send her something as well. It would be wonderful to be in touch with her again,” Betty smiled at her gratefully. “Go enjoy yourself now, dear.”

Frank had moved back to the grill, still cooking, so Cinders nodded at Betty and stepped away from the buffet. She quickly walked up to the community soup and dropped in her prepped pieces of crab, giving it a quick stir, before she stepped back and looked around. People were milling about in little groups and Theo, a fisherman by trade and a hobbyist musician, was singing under the large cherry blossom tree.

As she meandered closer, his eyes brightened when he saw her and he gestured her over. “Cinders! Come, join me!”

She held up her hands, waving them in front of her with a laugh. He insisted, so, blushing something fierce, she walked over to him. He glanced up at her from the stool he sat on. “You know this song, right?” he asked her.

Cinders leaned over to the other stool in front of him, looking at the sheet music he placed down. She nodded and straightened up. “Yeah, I’ve sung it before,” she confirmed.

“Sing with me! I’ll lead you in, okay?” He grinned up at her, strumming the opening chords of the song.

Even though she knew the lyrics by heart—it had been a favorite song of her pappy’s and one she heard throughout childhood—she kept her golden gaze trained on the sheet paper, not wanting to mess up the song. Her voice was soft and bashful at first, but when Theo joined in, she increased her volume. Glancing up, she saw Ben sitting on one of the pillows, swaying slightly to the music. Behind him stood Leah who was also watching in interest. Several other people stopped to watch her and Theo perform the song.

One of which was Rafael. He had been on his way to the buffet when he noticed her and had stopped to watch. His smile was wider than usual, his mahogany gaze focused only on her. He had his hands in the pockets of his trousers, standing in a relaxed way. Cinders could feel the blush return to her face as she met his eyes, quickly turning them back to the sheet music.

The song felt like it lasted forever, but she kept her voice steady and even, harmonizing with Theo and taking small liberties with flourishes here and there. When it finished, the small crowd around the tree clapped their hands, and she heard a whistle from somewhere. Theo gestured to her and she bowed, the smile on her face so wide that her rosy cheeks were almost hurting.

When she straightened out, she patted Theo on the shoulder and dismissed herself with a small wave, walking off to the side and around the crowd as Theo began another song. She brushed some loose shorter strands of hair from her face as she took a deep breath. Rafael came into view then, having been seeking her out after she left Theo’s makeshift stage area.

“Cinders!” he said, his eyes wide with amazement and sounding breathless. “Wow! You… were incredible!”

She shook her head with a modest smile, waving her hand flippantly. “No, no, it was nothing!”

“Really,” he insisted, finally coming to a stop in front of her. They were close to a seating area, away from Theo’s audience. The sounds of his song drifted through the air above them. “I didn’t know you could sing so well.”

Cinders shrugged her shoulder, glancing down at her hands. “I’ve had some practice, I guess,” she laughed softly. “Did… did you enjoy it?”

Her golden eyes peeked through her lashes and he nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! If I had an award, I’d give you one,” he laughed. It was a newer sound she’d never heard before, as Rafael was such a quiet and reserved person. She enjoyed the deep sound of his laugh reverberating around them.

“Thank you,” she gushed, crossing a hand over her chest to rub her other forearm. “Did you eat, yet?”

“No, I was on my way there, but noticed you and Theo,” he said. “Do you want to get some food with me?”

Cinders nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go get a plate.”

They walked to the buffet together, each piling a plate with their favorites and some new things they hadn’t tried yet. Cinders noticed that her basket of frybread was almost half gone already and that Rafael had grabbed two pieces in addition to his other choices. They found a seat on two pillows situated a little farther from the other seating groups.

They ate in an easy silence, both of them watching the people around them mingle and talk amongst themselves. There seemed to be a mishap over at the buffet table as Frank tried to do some kind of trip with flipping meat on the grill, only for it to fly several feet away in the grass. Betty and Frank’s wife, Erica, seemed to be scolding him while he was grinning with embarrassment and rubbing his neck.

Cinders saw Connor talking with Mr. Duckorns, an owner of the vineyard. They had a glass of wine in their hands, a sample he must have brought to share with everyone. Over on the wooden dock, she could see the tips of several fishing poles, remembering that she saw some of the kids and Joko, one of the town’s carpenters, fishing in the lake of the temple nearby when she walked up.

“Are you doing the sack race this year?” Rafael asked her as he took a drink of some fruit juice.

She turned to set her gold eyes on him as she replied, “No, I probably shouldn’t.” She held up her brightly pink bandaged hand.

His eyebrows raised slightly. “Ouch! It was that bad?” he asked.

She nodded with an incredulous laugh, “You wouldn’t believe the size of the splinter when it came out. Charles had to make room for it to be removed.”

He smiled sympathetically at her, “Are you okay now? Does it hurt?”

Cinders shrugged, turning her gaze back toward the festivities. “Not as much as before. It’s healing, at least.”

“That’s good. Have you had a chance to use those gloves?”

She shook her head, “Not yet. I’m waiting for my hand to heal some more before I try to do any work with tools.”

He nodded in understanding, “Well, your axe is all finished and ready to be picked up.”

Cinders’ full lips stretched into a wide grin, “Really? Great! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”

He nodded, “For sure.”

“Are you going to race?”

“Mm…” he scratched his cheek as his eyes trailed over to the sack race where people were still signing up. “I usually do every year.”

“You should! I’ll be on the side cheering for you if you do,” she offered.

Rafael looked back at her, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now, how can I refuse that?” he chuckled. “I’ll sign up once we’re done eating.”

“Sounds like a plan!” she nodded affirmatively. They settled back into the cozy silence between them, each taking their time eating the food they picked out. Once in a while, they’d comment on something they tried, or on something that happened. Like Luke accidentally tripping Ling on his second trip to the buffet, which made both of them snicker like school kids.

When the last call for the sack race sign-ups was sounded, both of them stood up from the pillows. Cinders brushed the back of her dress free of any loose grass and trotted after Rafael. Some ten or so minutes later, she was standing on the side, cheering with others who were not participating. Rafael looked so focused and determined on winning, it was endearing. He ended up in second place in the last round.

“Congrats!” she exclaimed as she bounded up to him, her eyes glittering with joy. “You did so well!”

He was still catching his breath and seemed to be stunned by her words. He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck, unable to suppress the wide grin that stretched across his handsome features. “Ha… thanks,” his voice was airy and bashful.

“Are you okay?” she giggled, reaching out to touch his upper arm in a comforting gesture.

He seemed to freeze in place for a few seconds before he nodded in a slightly jerky motion, “U-um, yeah, I’m fine. It was just tiring, heh.”

“I think we’re getting ready to wrap up the festival now,” Cinders mentioned, watching as a few people began to gather around the buffet and the community’s soup. “Come on.”

She reached for his hand, grabbing it gently to pull him along with her. They stood on the edges of the crowd as Judge Ross tasted the soup. Everyone eagerly awaited her reaction. “Delicious!” she called out after a moment, a bright smile on her face. “Amazing blend of community products everyone.”

The crowd clapped enthusiastically before people began converging in a line for a taste of their own. Sometime later, Cinders stood off to the side, sipping her small bowl and chatting with Rafael and Alice. Several people, seeing her chatting near the buffet table, had approached her and complimented her on the bread she had brought. The day’s events were finally winding down as the sky began to streak with orange and purple hues as the evening started creeping forward. In her mind, she thought today had been successful, in both the community potluck and her experience with her first island festival.

#writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #fanfic writers #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfiction #coral island fanfic #fanfic authors #writeblr #daffodil-dreams-chapters #there's a really niche reference in this one #i don't think any will get it but if you do #i'll love you forever LMFAO #i know the first three are all mostly in spring but the pace will pick up in the next parts

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school-of-pe · 2 years ago

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cherryslyce · 2 years ago

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Amalfi Coast | Theodore Nott

Synopsis: The end of your years at Hogwarts brings about stirring changes: the unveiling of your betrothal to Theodore Nott and an all-expense getaway to Italy for alone time with your husband-to-be.

PAIRING: Theodore Nott x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT + NOTES: 4.5k. I am so weak for Theodore.

The shards of glimmering light that dance across the soft peaks of water distances away seem to speak to you as you drift into your thoughts. Crowded between cliff-hanging abodes and the frothing shore, you’ve never felt so insignificant until that moment.

Your hand absentmindedly brushes against the fine grains of sand below you, the microscopic beads emanating a pleasant warmth against your palm. You hear a soft thud from beside you just as a comforting presence graces you, the uncomfortable stir of disorientation washing away with the drag of the waves.

“The unit should be prepped soon. We can grab some food after Mitzy brings over our luggage.” Theodore’s smooth voice hums out, eyes clambering to drink in the sight of the sea as well.

You smile softly at the mention of the boy’s house-elf, remembering how she had been keen to help you pack for the trip. Nodding, you unconsciously shift closer to the boy as you glance at him, “Sounds like a plan.”

Theodore looks completely serene much to your confusion. A large part of you was grateful that Theodore was chosen to be your betrothed, but another chunk of your heart twinged painfully at the thought. It was no secret that Nott Sr. was a strict man, and you couldn’t help but spiral into a web of thoughts about how Theodore was likely forced into being with you.

It had only been a few months since you both graduated from Hogwarts, but you distinctly recall how close Theodore was to Millicent Bulstrode. Your brain sifted through your memories of the girl, remembering her calculative eyes and pin-straight posture.

You just hoped the girl wouldn’t hex you for swooping in and stealing her boyfriend.

You and Theodore weren’t exactly close friends, but you both sought out each other’s company during exam season, enjoying the comfortable routine of silence that you both fell into during those days. Outside of the library, interactions with the boy dwindled into nods and occasional smiles. Despite the distance between you both during school, you held onto hope that your familiarity with one another would serve as a stepping stone towards a smooth relationship.

Conversation with Theodore is sparse for the hours that follow, the both of you mulling over thoughts of pleasantries and faltering topics of chatter. The fervid wind settles the farther you trek from the shoreline, now teetering past assortments of clustered buildings, all mottled with bright colors.

Your wand presses stiffly against your side as you tuck it into the waistband of your bottoms, concealing it from view as you both approach a swarm of people. Theodore keeps beside you, donning black sunglasses that keeps his searching gaze hidden as you both bask in the foreign environment.

It was lively and bright, the antithesis to the perpetual gloom and blisters of humming that was encroached in every stone of Britain. White verandas and endless shrubbery adorned the collection of shops around you, catching your eyes every so often.

“Here we are.” Theodore mutters, throwing you a small smile as your mouth drops into a vague o-shape.

The restaurant is stretched open with white beams of wood streaming upward to a flat wooden ceiling, the entirety of the seating area is squared away by the side banisters instead of proper walls, letting in the cool wind and seaside view. Theodore steps forward to speak with the hostess, hand lifting up to tug off his sunglasses as a blanket of shade envelopes you both.

You’re entranced by Theodore’s rapid-fire speaking, wondering if he had chosen Italian for his language lessons in order to strengthen his friendship with Blaise. With Theodore’s fluency and the restaurant’s expansive array of tables, you’re both seated in a matter of minutes.

The speckless table cloth drapes past your legs like a waterfall, effectively providing a shield against the breeze as you take your spot across from Theodore. The boy plucks his menu up and shoots you an indecipherable look from above the booklet as you remain motionless, seeing as your elementary understanding of Italian begins and ends at Ciao and Grazie.

Theodore’s lips flicker up momentarily before he lays his menu down and shuffles it over to you, “Do you want pasta? Or salad? They also have pizza, if you prefer that.”

Your lips split into a small smile of relief, a warmth blossoming in your chest as the stiff atmosphere around you both seems to wash away. Theodore reads off of the entire menu for you, eyes occasionally shifting to your concentrated face as you pedal between a few options.

When you finally decide on a dish, Theodore offers you a light hum and shining eyes, paralyzing you for a few moments. Perhaps, and to your relief, your relationship could work out after all. You just needed to clear the air between you both first.

The meal continues on without a hitch, but you have to make a conscious effort to not stare at the boy in front of you when the sun begins to sink behind the basin of sea water.

The swirls of orange and pink of the sky illuminate his sharp features, complementing his already striking complexion. A tamed buzzing of conversation wafts through the air, spurring you to word-vomit the thoughts that were plaguing you since your first joint dinner with Theodore and his father weeks before.

“I’m sorry,” You begin, looking away from Theodore when he meets your gaze with furrowed eyebrows, “about our marriage.”

Silence ensues after your vague words, and when you finally work up the courage to glance back at Theodore, confusion settles into the etches of your mind as you see his frown and penitent gaze. You had expected false platitudes of reassurance, or bitter resignation—hell, maybe anger—but certainly not the look he was giving you right now.

Clearing your throat, you sit up and lean forward, “I mean, I know that you would rather not be betrothed to me, so I’m sorry. My parents are quite lenient people, so I should have fought against it since I know your heart belongs to someone else already.”

“What?” Theodore wheezes out, reeling back to process your words.

Feeling heat creep up your neck, you falter back with quiet words, “Maybe, if I had refused vehemently, my parents could have convinced your father to not force you. I just wanted to apologize because I don’t want any lingering awkwardness or expectations for each other.”

Before Theodore can respond, your waiter paces over, giving you a polite smile before turning to address Theodore. The boy in front of you distractedly answers the waiter, eyes flickering back to your rigid figure amidst his words.

Once the waiter parts from your tableside, leaving behind a quaint black tray for your sum, Theodore seems to fall into a silent daze as he robotically composes himself and leaves the money on the tray. When he pushes his chair back, you follow suit, ready to play catch up if he swept away and down into the streets without you.

To your muted surprise, Theodore stops by your side and holds out his hand for you to take. Hesitantly clasping his calloused hand in yours, you are only able to await his words with bated breath, distracting yourself by focusing on the feeling of his rings against your fingers.

Theodore leads you yards away from the restaurant, only falling to a halt once you both reach a secluded area beside a blocked-off cliffside. The sound of crashing waves tangles into the air as Theodore’s eyes run around your face for a few moments.

“Do you want to call this off?” Theodore whispers, eyes steely with resolution as his other hand moves to lightly grip your arm.

You gape at his blunt words, swallowing thickly as your gaze falls to the ground, “If that’s what you want.”

“But what do you want?” He mumbles, stepping closer to you as another chilly gust of wind flies around your unguarded figures.

Peering back up to him, you frown before divulging, “I don’t want to call it off.”

“Good. Me neither.” Theodore nods, eyes softening at your honesty.

“But what about Millicent?” You mutter, head tilting with visible perplexion. The poignant reminder of her existence evokes a storm of doubts in your veins, and your head starts spinning with the culmination of the day’s events.

Theodore cranes his head back to assess you as he plainly responds, “What about her?”

This time, it’s your turn to survey his confused face with a mirrored look, “What? She’s your girlfriend? I can’t in good conscience do that to someone, arranged or not.”

Theodore’s mouth parts as he stares at you, and for a moment you’re disconcerted by the thought that he perhaps only just remembered her, but then, the most remarkable thing happens—Theodore starts to chuckle. His shoulders quake faintly with every muffled sound, and after a few moments, he throws his head back to let it out toward the darkening sky.

Before you have a moment to question the boy’s sanity, he turns back to you with a wide grin, “Is that what you were talking about earlier? You caught me from left field. I was worried that you were displeased because your heart belonged to someone already.”

Seeing your inquiring eyes, he shuffles closer and shakes his head, “I’m not dating Millicent, silly one. Where’d you get that grand idea from?”

“You guys were always together, and all the rumors–” Your words come out borderline defensive, neck blazing from embarrassment.

Theodore huffs and squeezes your arm, softly cutting you off from your spiel, “Just rumors. I wouldn’t have agreed to any sort of arrangement if I was with someone else, my father knows that much.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” You nod, scratching at your neck to dispel the humiliation that would live on in your head until your last moments on Earth.

“Silly.” Theodore hums, letting go of your arm to tap at your forehead, “Let’s head to our place before we freeze, yeah?”

Your rental unit was quite spacious to your surprise, and you were almost too enraptured with touching every inch of furniture to notice that there was only one bed in the entire space. Almost.

Theodore is cognizant of the same dilemma, clicking his tongue dryly as he murmurs quietly under his breath.

“I can take the floor.” You speak up almost zealously, easily masking how the prospect of waking with a sore back was killing you on the inside. Theodore and you had barely started building a thin understanding for your relationship, and you’d be damned if a single bed would stir up tension again.

Theodore swivels to look at you, “No need, we can share the bed. If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll take the floor.” His voice leaves little room for argument, and he runs a hand through his locks as he nods reassuringly at you. You’re touched by his consideration and understanding, glad that you weren’t in such a position with someone like Crabbe or Goyle, both of whom would likely grunt inaudibly and leave you to your ministrations.

“Let’s share, then.” You concede, heart thrumming fervently in your chest.

Theodore smiles softly at you and beckons you closer as he sits down on the bed, hand reaching out for you as you slowly tread forward. When you gently place your hand in his, he gives a faint tug, eyes darting down to the empty spot beside him.

Once you’re snug on the plush mattress, you turn to him with a wry grin, “We’ve skipped pretty much every single conventional step to get here. From study partners to life partners.”

“I suppose you’re right,” the corner of his mouth slants up, “from barely knowing my name to taking my surname, hm? Quite unorthodox.”

Shaking your head, you flop back onto the bed, keenly aware of how Theodore tightens his hold on your hand as it begins to slip away. Peering up at him, you raise an eyebrow, “Who said I’m taking your last name, Nott? You’re taking mine.”

“Hyphenating, it is.” He murmurs as his eyes trail toward the balcony ways off across the room.

You chuckle and stare into the abyss of the dim ceiling, “Any excuse to have a ridiculously extensive name.”

“Never as ridiculous as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” He muses, slowly lowering himself to lay beside you.

A few tantalizing beats pass before your jumbled mind seems to take away any semblance of restraint from your mouth, “I never thought it would be you, to be frank.”

“Yeah?” Theodore hums, head now turned towards you.

Nodding, you run your free hand along the edge of the bed as you continue, “My parents had been considering Crabbe for a while. I mean, they know nothing about him, but I can just imagine how that dinner would have gone once they realized just who they were shipping me off to.”

Theodore continues to study you, hand squeezing yours again before he mumbles, “I knew it’d be you.”

Snapping your head to the side, your eyes widen at his hooded gaze, “Really?”

“My father knew it too. That I wouldn’t have anyone but you.” His admission knocks the wind from your lungs, and you almost want to throttle yourself off the bed to ensure that you weren’t dreaming.

“Yeah?” You ask dumbly, heart stuttering against your ribs.

Theodore shifts to lean on his elbow, bringing his face closer to yours as he whispers, “Want to know a secret?”

All you can do is nod, trying to blink away the dizziness coiling around your head from the close proximity.

He hums and slowly retracts his hand, bringing a finger to trail the bedding beside your shoulder, “I was the one to ask your parents for permission to court you. Now, I’m going to wash up first, I promise I won’t be long.”

Without a hitch, Theodore swiftly clambers off of the bed, leaving the mattress to gently recoil against your back as it expands to its original form. You’re only able to grapple for a coherent thought once the bathroom door shuts with a click, barring you from staring at Theodore in wonder.

Once you hear the stream of the shower head emit from the bathroom, you slowly prop yourself up and trudge towards the balcony, swinging the glass doors open and allowing the whistling wind to zip through the newly exposed aperture. The biting breeze nips at your cheeks as you stare into the sky, surveying all the twinkling stars as you recount the day’s events.

You aren’t exactly sure what you’re going to say to Theodore, or if you’re even going to be able to look him in the eyes once he emerges from the bathroom, but you supposed that the turn of events unfolded more pleasantly than you could have hoped.

The distant clamoring of partygoers ways away from the balcony lulls you into a loop of idle daydreams, and you aren’t sure how many minutes have passed since Theodore’s departure from your side, but the whirlwind of your elusive thoughts dissipates when a warm hand grazes your arm.

“You alright? I’ve been calling your name for a bit now.” Theodore mumbles, eyes glazed with worry as he searches your blank expression.

Blinking slowly, you nod and offer a faint smile, “Fine, just lost in my thoughts.”

“It’s a bit chilly out here,” He glances to his right, evidently hearing the faint pulsing of music as well, “why don’t we head in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling at him, “I’ll try not to wake you when I get out of the shower.”

As you make your way to weave around the boy, body feeling weightless despite the fatigue drenching your muscles, you can feel his eyes following you until you’re swallowed by the shadows of the room.

The numbing balm of the night’s wind melts away from your face as you peer up into the shower head. The swath of steam that swirls around your body, cloaking the mirrors and walls, seems to inhibit the taunts of your overactive brain.

Your getaway would continue for another week before you’d begin wedding arrangements, already feeling the splintering headache emerging at the thought of sitting down and picking between a plethora of cloth samples. Unions between pureblood families were a big deal for the elite circle of families as the event would serve as the perfect opportunity for pretense and business transactions between different houses.

When you crack the bathroom door open with a muffled pop, dismissing the rush of steam that flees hurriedly into the cool room, you vaguely make out the figure of Theodore propped up against the headboard. The hues of moonlight peek through the bare panes of your window, curtains swept aside, faintly illuminating the silhouette of the furniture.

“Still up?” You whisper, padding over to delicately arrange yourself beside the boy.

As you shuffle under the plush covers, dragging the edges under your arms, you turn to peer at Theodore’s profile, watching as his throat bobs down as he slowly turns to you.

“Didn’t want to sleep without you.” He mutters, slowly sinking to lay down beside you.

You suppress the tender smile threatening to peel across your face and nod, “I see. You’re not a restless sleeper, are you?”

“Are you?” He quietly intones, voice growing fainter as sleep begins to grip at his consciousness.

“No, I’m not.” You hum, resisting the urge to sweep your fingers forward in search of his, “Goodnight, Theodore.”

“Goodnight.”

You both fall asleep facing one another, inches apart as the glow of the moonlight chases away the gulfs of darkness that slink in the corners of your room. It is in this position that your slumber is torn away from you mere hours later, moonlight now dispersing into small shards that nearly blend away against the white covers.

The foggy film that clouds your senses and sight reel away as you hear a small grunt from beside you followed by incessant shifting. Blinking away your drowsiness, you slowly shift up to survey Theodore, slowly comprehending his distress.

Theodore huffs out, a muffled groan blooming into the quiet atmosphere around you. Carefully reaching over, you shake the boy’s arm, eyebrows furrowing when he simply shifts again.

“Theodore, hey,” You feebly call out, shaking his arm more frantically as he remains trapped in the desolate rapids of unconsciousness.

Leaning down you bring your other hand to softly pat his cheek, you wait with bated breath as his ministrations quell before ceasing entirely. Eyes now accustomed to the veil of midnight darkness, you see his eyes slowly blink open, a light sigh escaping his lips as he begins to claw back into reality.

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” You softly murmur, bringing your fingers up to gently card back his waves, any semblance of fatigue evaporating from your bones as you focus on comforting the boy.

Theodore brings his hand up to yours, eyes beginning to sluggishly droop again, “Y/N?”

“Hm?” You hum out, readjusting your position as sickly soreness jolts up your arm.

“I guess I am a restless sleeper.” He mumbles, nudging against his pillow before he emits another sigh. His voice rumbles lethargically, and you sense that he is about to slip away into slumber again when he tightens his hold on your hand.

“Hm. What’s up?” You whisper, moving to lay down as well.

Theodore is silent for a few seconds before he tersely whispers back, voice nearly drowned out by the thumping of your heart in your ears, “Can I hold you?”

You shift closer to the cocoon of warmth batting off of him, steadily bringing your arm to wrap around him, “Of course.”

Theodore wraps his arms around you and drags you towards him, a content hum buzzing from his throat as he tucks you under his chin. For the few grand moments that pass afterward, you are left to contemplate the consequences your position would entail for when the sun rose, and you fervently hoped that no awkwardness would ensue.

Your close proximity to Theodore allows you to hear the faint thumping of his heartbeat, now undeviating in its rhythm. Bringing your free hand forward, you tuck it in the nestle of warmth between your bodies, trying to conjure inklings of sleep as a dense pressure burrowed itself in your eyes.

The lull of concentration fades into blind navigation in the crevices of your mind, and when your pulsing thoughts dwindle to incomprehensible echoes, slumber greets you once again.

When your mind blisters into stark clarity, it is with recognition of the orange hues flashing in your vision and the traces of aimless lines on your back. Your body instinctively pines for the cushion of bliss that mutely calls for you: a mixture of aftershave and pear.

For a few moments, it is completely tranquil. Until you realize that your pillow had a heartbeat.

The revelation is enough to jumpstart the discombobulated wires of your brain. Your eyes crack open to greet the rays of light that crowd your vision, an unpleasant stinging causing you to squint as you huff out.

“Good morning.” Theodore’s voice is gravelly, barely above a whisper.

“Hi Theodore.” You mumble out, remaining motionless against him.

His chest vaguely rumbles and you feel him splay one his hands against your back, “Theo. Only my father and Blaise call me Theodore.”

“Blaise?” You tiredly repeat, cheek squishing against his shirt.

“At his insistence, honestly. He thinks it’s fun.” Theodore hums, and that reminder has your hazy brain blinking with a sudden memory.

“Wait. Theodora, right?” You raise your head up, a wide grin plastered on your face as you remember the one night when Blaise dragged him away from your study routine using that nickname.

Theodore blinks before he groans into the air, bringing one of his arms up to throw over his eyes as he grumbles, “Merlin, I was hoping you’d forget or even mishear that.”

“Oh, I almost did, but Blaise’s ruckus was far more interesting than a Potions essay.” Theodore hums tiredly at the mention, and his reaction only spurs you on, “So, does he make it a habit to say Theodora, or is Dora better?” You say cheekily, shrugging innocently when Theodore peers down at you with a playful glare.

“Enough about Blaise,” Theodore mumbles, poking your ribs with his fingers as he maneuvers to sit up, dragging you to lean into his side as he did so, “I have something planned for today.”

“You’re being frighteningly vague, should I be worried?” You hum, muffling a low yawn.

Theodore shakes his head and dryly huffs , “Actually, I was planning on testing a few levitating charms on you.” His fingers dance lightly against your back as his voice drops into a feathery tone, “Have some faith in me.”

“I trust you.” You murmur, exhaling through your nose in amusement before you grow serious, “Anyway, did you sleep okay?”

Theodore doesn’t answer you, and you slowly raise your eyes to meet his face in confusion, “Theo?”

“Hm?” He hums distractedly, face craning closer to yours as he seems to almost stare through you.

Your heart collapses into the void of your ribcage for a split second before it begins to thrust violently against your chest, spurring a sea of warmth up your neck and ears. Theodore’s eyes flicker across your face as his hands begin to absentmindedly draw patterns against your sides.

You aren’t sure you’re breathing properly. Or at all.

One of his hands trails up to your arm, sliding to rest on the junction between your neck and shoulder as he muses, “Before we get up and go on about our day, I have something for you.”

Your eyebrows wrinkle at his words, eyes not straying away from his unwavering gaze. This time, it’s you who gives a small hum, patiently waiting for his next words.

“Just a small gift,” He whispers, slowly slotting his other hand on the small of your back, “It’s been a long time coming, really.”

His eyes drop down to your lips and that’s all you really need before you’re leaning towards him with anticipation, hands steadying themselves on his chest. Theodore’s lips part and he gazes at you for confirmation, jaw clenching imperceptibly as words become lost between you both.

When you remain resolute, he swiftly connects his lips to yours, mouth moving feverishly against yours. His hands press against your body, keeping you grounded as he begins to lean over you, lips never ceasing in their frenzied dance against yours.

Grasping the sides of his neck, you tug him impossibly closer to you as he hovers over you, one of his hands moving to run soothingly along your waist.

A few more heated moments pass before the tug for air becomes too great to ignore, causing you to break away from him, head tilting to the side as your lungs tinge with a faint tightness. Theodore grunts at your escape, chasing after you as he tries to satiate his desire, only opting to leave heavy kisses against your cheek and jaw when you tap his neck.

Closing your eyes, you bring your fingers to card through his hair as you attempt to halt the dizzying stars spinning across your eyelids. Amidst your fruitless efforts, a sudden tug has your eyes flying open, a bemused hum echoing through the air once you realize Theodore is guiding you to sit up.

He remains silent as he glides down from the side of the bed, hand drifting to lace with yours as he pulls you to sit at the edge of the mattress. Reaching towards the bottom drawer of the white dresser, Theodore only briefly glances away as he fishes out a small velvet box.

“Theo?” You mumble, eyes widening as he drops down on both of his knees.

“Ring.” He answers quietly, deftly opening the box and pulling out a thin silver band.

He drops kisses to your knees as he gazes up towards you, bringing one of his hands forward in muted questioning. Smiling softly, you place your left hand in his outstretched one, holding your breath when he slips the ring onto your ring finger with ease.

His hand continues to hold yours, thumb rubbing against your skin as he stares at the band.

“Thank you.” He finally says, lifting his face up to survey yours, his position leaving him at your complete mercy.

Your hands instinctively reach out to cup his face, bringing him in for another kiss as a newfound contentment curls into your chest. Theodore remains on his knees as he leans forwards, hands chancing a light slide against your hips as he reciprocates your affection.

“Fuck, how mad do you think everyone will be if we just eloped?” He grunts out before diving forward again to meet your lips.

Pulling back with a small laugh, you shake your head, “My parents would have your head.”

“I’m willing to pay that price, love.” He grins against your lips, nose nudging against yours.

Patting his cheek, you narrow your eyes playfully, “Well I’m not, so behave.”

“Yes, dear.”

masterlist

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagines

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bella-studyblr · 4 years ago

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Task Management:

Creating + Maintaining a Schoolwork Schedule

Key elements

Your schedule suits your individual time/task management preferences.

It is flexible enough to accommodate sudden changes, plus fluctuating energy levels, states of concentration, symptoms and moods.

Daily tasks are not over-whelming; they are small enough that they are achievable.

You do not get “burned out.”

It allows you to be consistent.

Steps to create your schedule

Decide if you want your planner to be paper or digital

Find an “order” that’s logical and achievable for you (more on this later)

Refer to your addendum/syllabus and write down all the assignments, tests and other events taking place that week/month (and their due-dates).

Then break these down, assigning tasks to each day of the week (more on this later).

Break down your tasks even further (more on this later).

Decide if you want to follow a simple daily to-do list or a timed schedule (more on this later).

Find your “order(s)”

Mandatory: Schedule assignments around other commitments (work, social, hobbies, etc.).

Do the hardest task first to get it out of the way (so that the rest of your tasks are less daunting, and because your smaller tasks require less energy therefore can be done even after completing the hard task).

Do the easiest task first to build momentum (give yourself a feeling of accomplishment which will motivate you to continue, and boost your self-confidence early in the day to establish a positive mindset for the rest of the day).

Do the task that’s due first to minimize deadline stress, and so your assignments don’t fall through the cracks (causing you to get discouraged and lose momentum).

Plan according to your energy level throughout the day and week: Do you have Pilates once a week? Maybe you can reserve that day for easier assignments. If you know you’re going to be tired for whatever reason, account for that in your planning.

Consider your state of concentration: If you know you’re too groggy or spaced out for the first hour of your day, you can either schedule easy tasks in that time, or none at all. If you take a medication in the afternoon/evening that makes you tired, schedule easier tasks or none, and get harder tasks done earlier/later in the day. If you have ADHD and crowded places mess with your concentration, but you like studying at a café, go when it’s not busy.

Be mindful of your emotions and symptoms: If you have depression, or are prone to depressive episodes, you’ll need to consider that when scheduling. You might have to rework your entire schedule when you get into a depressive episode (like adding lots of breaks). If suddenly you’re going through a big life event (like a breakup), you need to account for that when scheduling. For instance, if you can’t stand to be alone, maybe you can go out instead of staying in, and if your motivation is low, you may need to up your reward-system or break down your tasks even more.

Break down this week/month’s tasks

Refer to your addendum/syllabus and write down all your due dates for the time period you’re scheduling for.

Based on due dates, outside commitments, predictions of energy/mood/symptoms, assign assignments to the days of the week/month that make most sense for you.

Break down daily tasks into sub-tasks

You can do this (in advance) for your full week/month’s assignments, or do it every morning/evening.

Generally, your assignments will follow a variation of this formula: brainstorm, create an outline, research, write rough draft, edit and revise. Test/exam prep will look something like: check to see what the test is based on, pinpoint important sections, review to see how well you know the material, create a list of items to study, rewrite select notes, make flash cards, study topic 1, study topic 2, etc.

What are the individual components of these steps? Here are some examples. Brainstorm: what should my topic be, what should my thesis be, what points can support my thesis, what do I need to research, what questions do I need to ask my prof? Outline: topic, thesis, points, conclusion. Research: write down all the important parts from each source (separately), then sift through to sort into Supporting Point 1, Supporting Point 2, etc. Rough draft: opening statement(s), intro, point 1, point 2, etc., conclusion, closing statement(s). Edit/revise: read and check for grammar only, then read again and check for spelling only, read again and check for cohesiveness only, etc. Topic 1: Part A, Part B, etc.

Each of these small components can be individual items on your to-do list. Big tasks like, “write essay” are too big for most people. Even “write rough draft” is daunting. If you start with something specific and small like brainstorming, and work your way up, it’s a lot easier to approach. Plus, being able to check off tasks more often and more easily will boost your confidence and your sense of competence, thus building momentum.

Here is a sample to-do list: Research X for Point 1 of Literary Essay, create outline for History Essay, Edit/Revise Assignment 1, study Topic 1 and Topic 2 for Test 1.

To-do list or time-based schedule?

To do list: Write down all your assignments for the day. Put them in the order you want to do them, or go through them intuitively (based on what you feel like doing, or what’s most practical at the time/place you’re at).

Timed-based: Write down all your assignments, then write down the time you’re going to do each of them. You could set reminders or alarms if you want, or simply refer to the list. There’s an awesome app I recommend if this is your thing. It’s called Structured (iOS only).

Curate your study environment for maximum focus

Eliminate distractions such as uncomfortable clothing, sounds (or silence), phone and computer notifications, clutter in the room and on your desk, people who may try to talk to you (shut your door and/or inform them that you’re busy).

Designate a space to doing homework only and avoid spaces that you associate with other things (do not study in bed, as you will want to relax or sleep, and/or you will mess with your sleep by weakening the bed’s association with sleep).

Build associations: Incorporate other events and items into your study/homework routine that you only use while doing that, so that you associate those things with studying/homework (examples: specific playlists, pencils/pens, cups/bottles, scents, rituals, decor, etc.).

Ensure good lighting (preferably including daylight).

Get dressed in clothes that make you feel good about yourself. They don’t have to be “professional” and they should definitely be comfortable. Do not stay in your pyjamas. Believe me, I know this can be hard, and I love PJ’s. But they are not good for productivity.

Don’t “multi-task.” It may feel like you’re getting more done this way, but by splitting your focus, not only do tasks take longer, they also diminish in quality. Commit to the task you’re doing.

Meditate: You can even meditate for just 1-5 mins right before studying, homework and/or classes.

Practice self care (daily!)

Sleep (enough, well, and regularly).

Daylight: Get outside, work by windows, use a light therapy box. These can help regulate your sleep, improve and maintain mental health, and boost energy.

Fresh air: Getting outside even for a couple minutes can help you refresh and reset, and feel good about yourself and your life. Fresh oxygen can help you wake up and is great for your health. Even just opening your window can do a lot for your mood, energy and motivation.

Movement: Try to move at least once per day. The benefits of exercise are numerous and immense.

Healthy and consistent eating: Avoid spikes in insulin levels by eating regularly so you don’t have extreme dips in your energy level. Also, brain power uses calories too, so make sure you’re eating consistently, and try to eat healthy. There are so many other reasons eating consistently is good for your health (and by extension, your productivity).

Relaxation and leisure: Make time for fun and socializing, as well as intentional relaxation. Hobbies, movies/tv, time with friends/family, meditation, baths, progressive muscle relaxation, etc.

Therapy: Your therapy sessions are not daily, but you can do 5 minutes of inner-work per day based on what you and your therapist are currently working on. Working with a therapist is a great way to stay on track with your goals, and develop the skills and positive mindset required for success in school.

Reward yourself

Track progress: Reflect on all the assignments you’ve completed and your grades to remind yourself that you’re capable!

Completing to-do lists daily maintains a sense of accomplishment which keeps your momentum going. Check those items off! Or give yourself gold stars! ⭐️

Treat yourself with non-food rewards: Tie completed school work with fun tasks like video games, or take yourself out for coffee, or some other small (non-food) outing. What I’m trying to do right now is not do my leisure activities until my daily tasks are done.

Develop a positive mindset

Take promises you make to yourself seriously. The more you break promises to yourself, the easier it will get to continue breaking promises. You will lose respect for yourself which lowers motivation, and you will lose trust in yourself which can become debilitating as well. The more you keep promises, the easier it will get, the more motivated you’ll become, and the more you’ll trust and respect yourself. Your confidence will improve, and you’ll feel better about yourself. Productivity is choosing yourself. Discipline is choosing what’s best for you instead of what you feel like doing in the moment. Discipline is a muscle, and like any muscle, it can be strengthened, and it can atrophy.

Remember your “why.” What is the end goal of being in school? What’s your career path, and why did you choose it? What will your life be like when you have that career? What would your life be like if you gave up and didn’t make it to your goal? Aiming for your dream while running from your nightmare is a great strategy for maintaining motivation. Lighting a fire under your *** can be a huge motivator.

Remember how good you feel when you get schoolwork done, and let this motivate you to stay consistent. You can also remember how you feel when you don’t get work done, but definitely focus more on the positive!

Go to therapy and/or hire a coach. There are SO many benefits to therapy and I’d honestly need a whole other post to get into it. You don’t need to be depressed or mentally ill at all in order to benefit from talking to a therapist. They can even help you with time management, procrastination, motivation and more! If you can afford it, please do it. It’s such a worthwhile investment.

Be consistent

No “zero days.” Do at least a bit of homework or studying every day so you don’t slip into vacation mode. Make schoolwork a daily part of your life, so it just becomes the norm.

Build productivity momentum (track progress, check items off your to-do list daily, treat yourself, keep promises to yourself, remember your “why,” remember how success feels).

Stay on top of projects. Your assignments are made up of smaller tasks you assign yourself across time. “Success is the sum of small efforts repeated day in and day out.” - Robert Collier

Avoid burnout (more on this later).

Keep it interesting (more on this later).

Avoid burnout

Self-care: shower and/or bathe regularly, maintain proper sleep habits, stay hydrated, take care of your skin, do relaxation activities like meditation and reading, do fun activities, pamper yourself every now and then with face masks or foot baths, take your meds as prescribed, eat well and regularly, get outside often, move daily, etc.

Break up study/homework sessions into small, manageable chunks of time, with constructive (refreshing) breaks in between.

Break assignments down into even smaller tasks so that you aren’t over-working yourself during the course of a day, and so that you don’t overwhelm yourself (the stress can lead to burnout).

School-life balance: Keep up with your social life as best as you can, make time for your hobbies, maintain self-care, say no to things that don’t serve you, etc. Try to follow through with scheduled schoolwork 100% of the time, but know that you won’t. Sometimes you’ll need to prioritize mental health over schoolwork (be careful though, this is a very fine line, and a slippery slope). Sometimes things will come up and it’ll be out of your control. But more than anything else, there will be times when you just decide to prioritize something else like fun and socializing over schoolwork. This is why your schedule needs to be flexible: to accommodate sudden invites to hang out and random decisions to skip a homework/study session, but more importantly, flexibility will reduce the odds that you’ll skip in the first place. If your schedule includes hobbies and socializing, and anything else that’s important to you, then you won’t feel deprived. If you have school-life balance, you’ll have more of yourself to devote to schoolwork when it’s time to.

Keep it interesting

Romanticize your life by putting effort into making all of your daily tasks a special occasion.

Make meals and drinks special by using your favourite dinnerware and cutlery. Perhaps even incorporate extra elements such as: a beautiful tablecloth, napkins, candles and/or dim lighting, music, wearing your favourite clothing, etc.

Pretend you’re the main character in a movie about a successful, productive student (because you are the main character in your life).

Make games out of studying if this is something that interests you (the Forest app comes to mind).

Use lots of colours in your notes and buy colourful stationary! 🌈

Vary your approach/methods if needed to avoid boredom.

Study with friends (online or in person).

Reward yourself often.

Remember your “why.”

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since0202 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 6: Study-hard

It had been a couple of weeks since the tribal gathering, but Grace had been slammed with finals prep before the winter break. There was at least one downside to stacking all of those AP classes and that was the massive amount of work it took to pass her finals and finish her term papers in time.

Jacob had tried to call her a few times over the first week, but she had been so swamped that she had had to decline the calls that Charlie had answered while she was hunkered down in her bedroom sifting through notes and furiously typing on the desktop.

Bella was making her way through a load of work she hadn’t gotten to since the incident, but she was by no means rushing. All of the air had gone out from her, and in her deflated state, school work was the last of her worries. She’d been putting in more hours at Newton’s store lately, probably to stay out of the house and out from under Charlie’s worried stare.

Grace pulled Bella into her study circle so they could bounce productively off one another and they spent most days after school in the library or upstairs in their room together.

Two weeks after the tribal council meeting, Charlie knocked on their partially opened bedroom door, holding the cordless phone in his hand with a sigh. It was Sunday night and Grace was in the study zone. She glanced up quickly before turning her eyes back to the computer. Her hair was held up by a single pencil in a loose, curled bun. She was wearing wide black framed glasses and a dark green Westmoore High sweatshirt and thick white sweatpants. She had layered the necklace elder Ti’hal had given her the night of the tribal council meeting so that it ringed three strands around her neck and held the black stone just at her collarbone. Jacob’s bracelet was wrapped firmly around her wrist and she played with the loose ends every now and then.

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” she said softly, pouring over a textbook next to her. Charlie held the receiver to his ear.

“Jake, she-” he paused for a minute, “Alright, hold on.” he turned back to Grace, “He says you said that last time and the time before that and the time before that. He’s not taking no for an answer.”

Grace sighed, irritated and held her hand out. Charlie stepped forward and handed it over with a sigh of relief.

“No.” Grace said into the receiver. Charlie did a double take and turned to look at her. She held the phone back out to Charlie. She could hear loud protesting from Jake and stifled a giggle. She wasn’t trying to make him mad or stress him out, but at this moment, school came first.

Grace shook the receiver at Charlie who grabbed it back with a grumble and held the phone to his ear. In the background, Bella let out a chuckle. Charlie’s eyes lit up with surprise at the tinkling sound coming from Bella. She shook her head smiling and turned back to her work.

“Yeah, Jake, no. She’ll have to call you back.” Charlie said over the protest. “It’s finals Jake, they’ll be done in a week. Okay, okay. Yeah, okay.” Charlie trailed off down the hallway trying to talk Jake down and Grace fell back into her work. She could hear a muffled conversation going on downstairs for the next couple of minutes but paid no mind.

The next few days it was quiet from Jacob. Maybe he had gotten the message finally. She was enjoying spending some time with Bella. While she wasn’t her normal self by any means, her quiet company was comforting to Grace and allowed her to focus.

On Wednesday, Bella skipped out early on their study session for her shift at Newton’s, leaving Grace on her own to study under the warm glow of her desk lamp. She put her over ear headphones on and listened to her tried and true study playlist, making headway. She lost all track of time but the early descending darkness was deceiving. It must have been no later than 7pm, but the sky made it look like it was midnight.

It was then that Grace was startled and let out a gasp as she saw a hoodie-clad Jake climbing clumsily through her window and knocking over the huge stack of books on her nightstand. He was already through the window and standing up when Grace hurriedly whispered “Jake what the hell!”

“Grace?” Charlie called from downstairs. Always the in-tune police chief.

“I’m fine! Just knocked over some books.” She called out her door before quietly shutting it. While this was still just Jacob, she was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be climbing through her window on a school night in the pitch black.

“Sorry,” Jake whispered with a jerking shrug of his shoulders. He bent to scoop up the books with his broad hands and placed them haphazardly back on her nightstand. He turned to look at her and her face was still one of shock, mouth hanging open, speechless.

“What was I supposed to do?! You haven’t been returning my calls, you haven’t been down to the rez-” Jacob said hurriedly above a whisper.

“SHHH!” Grace’s eyes widened as she rushed up to him and clamped a small hand over his mouth. His skin was extraordinarily warm. Had he gotten taller? He was a good half a foot taller than her at her admirable 5’8”, but still. Even the cut of his jaw felt stronger. She blushed ever so slightly.

“Do you want me to get in trouble? I’m like 1000% sure you’re not supposed to be in here right now.” She looked at him expectantly to answer, but realized after he raised his eyebrows and pointed at his still covered mouth that he couldn’t. She lowered her hand but had it at the ready.

“I’m sorry, I was just worried and it’s Charlie. He’s not going to care.” Jacob whispered.

“Okay, there’s a big difference between Jacob, downstairs, in the light of day, and a boy with mysterious motives in my bedroom at night behind a closed door,” Grace hissed.

“To be fair, you closed the door,” Jacob countered. Grace groaned.

“Jacob!”

“What does he think we’re going to do!?” Jacob shot back. A tense, awkward silence fell between them and all at once Grace didn’t want to answer that question. She blushed profusely and saw a little color rise to Jacob’s face as well. She took a step back from him and returned to her chair.

“Jacob, you should go. I really am studying. I have two term papers due this Friday, an exam tomorrow, and three more next week. Then I’m done and we can hang out over winter break. I promise.” She pulled her leg up under her and propped herself up over her books. Jacob sunk to her bed and leaned back against it, discarding his shoes. “Okay, that’s the opposite of leaving.”

“We can hang out now, I won’t bother you, I’ll just read one of these intensely thick books and stay quiet and you can just...do your thing.” He shrugged and grabbed “A Picture of Dorian Gray” from the stack and cracked it open. Grace let out a huff and turned back to her work.

He kept his word. For the next hour as Grace meticulously wrote out additional flash cards and flipped through notes and highlighted extra snippets of information, he stayed quiet. His soft breathing became her background and she relied on it’s even, steady rhythm to guide her. She felt warm. She felt happy.

After the hour, she gathered her flashcards up and climbed out of her chair and onto the end of the bed pushing Jake’s legs aside.

“Okay, quiz me.” she set the flash cards before him and he sat up eager to please, pulling the cards toward him and discarding the book.

“Okay, Grace Study-hard Alo-”

“Not my middle name, but okay,” she interjected.

“Let’s see what you got.” He cleared his throat and Grace laughed. “What was the Enlightenment?” His voice took on the lilt of poorly practiced game show host.

“The rebirth of intellectual thought and philosophy and it complemented the Scientific Revolution that focused on the hard sciences.”

“Very good, extra credit.”

“That’s not-”

“Next question! How were the works of Ancient Greece and Rome preserved?”

“Monks made dedicated copies that they created by hand. However, in hand copying, there could be altering of ideas, thoughts, and practices.”

“That would suck to have to write that all by hand.”

“Jake,” Grace protested.

“Okay okay!” he cleared his throat again.

As they worked through the entirety of her flashcards, Jake cracked jokes that made Grace peal with laughter despite her best efforts to stay serious. She got most of them right and once they finished, Jacob gave out an exaggerated breath of exhaustion and flopped back onto the bed. Grace sat up next to him at the top of her bed, while he relaxed on her pillows, one arm up under his head. He peered up at her as she worked her way through the cards she didn’t remember and made some edits.

“How do you remember all this stuff?” Jacob asked curiously. At this point Charlie had probably gone to bed and Bella would be home soon. Grace wasn’t worried about speaking in a whisper now.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just weird information that gets stuck there. It’s on a need to know basis, I guess. And I need to know this stuff right now, so it just stays there.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Jacob said, yawning some and letting his eyes close. Grace yawned in return and slumped down a little on her bed next to him so that she was half sitting, half laying down.

Grace spoke under breath, quizzing herself as Jacob’s even breath slowed. Grace hadn’t realized that she too fell asleep until low light creeped through her window in the early morning hours. She stirred some and realized her desk lamp had been turned off. She looked over at Bella’s bed and saw her sleeping there peacefully, for once. When Grace turned over, she softly gasped as she came face to face with Jacob’s sleeping form.

He was facing her, an arm draped over her waist and a slice of black hair fell over his sleeping face. As he exhaled softly, she could see his lips parted ever so slightly. She felt a squeeze in her heart as she brushed the swath of hair away from his face. Grace let herself stare at him peaceful like this for just a moment longer before she sat up and gently shook his shoulder.

“Jake...Jake wake up,” he groaned softly and pulled at her waist trying to bring her back down and press her to him but she pried his hand off from around her and shook him harder. “Jake wake up. We fell asleep, Billy’s probably worried sick about you.”

Jacob’s dark eyes opened, and Grace didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so beautiful before in her life. “Grace?” he yawned. “What time is it?”

“It’s like 5:30 in the morning. You should go.” She shot a look over to Bella’s stirring form.

“Okay.” he whispered back and slowly hauled himself from her bed and put on his boots.

“You’re not climbing back out the window, come on.” Once he was upright, she crawled out of her bed, took his hand and guided him to the door. She cracked it open and peered out and around to check that the coast was clear. Jacob stood half awake behind her, but was seemingly awake enough to interlace his fingers with her, a way of bringing her closer. She gently pulled him out into hall once she was satisfied with the silence and padded softly down the stairs and to the front the door. When she pulled it open, the cold air rushed over her and Jacob quickly perked up, he crossed the threshold still holding her hand and let it go only at the last moment when he said,

“Good luck on your test today. I’ll see you soon?” He gave her a soft, teasing smile.

“Yes, very soon, I promise. But Jacob, you can’t sleep over like that again, we’re gonna get in trouble.” Grace warned, crossing her arms tightly in front of her to keep warm.

Jake let out a guffaw nodded, and stepped toward her, taking her off guard before quickly kissing the top of her head. Before she realized what had happened, he was jogging down the front steps and off toward the Rabbit. Grace stood planted in place, glued to the spot by the effortless affection bestowed upon her. What was that? Jacob was her best friend, but did this mean something different?

Suddenly, she was overcome with exhaustion and closed the door quietly before bolting quietly up to her room and under the covers. The sheets still held onto his soft, warm, scent that was a mix of fir trees, spice, and crisp sea air. She fell asleep, crushing the pillow he had slept on to her and woke up an hour later to bright sunshine. When she sat up and felt the bed around her, it dawned on her that she had had a boy in her bed. Not just any boy, but Jacob Black. She put her face in her hands and shook her head back and forth, not sure how to feel.

Bella was up, but hadn’t crawled out of bed and was peering out at the sun with eyes clouded in gloom. Sunny days were two parts hard, one part easy for Bella. It was the most realistic day that she would have spent without Edward normally and that brought her comfort. But on the other hand it only accentuated his absence.

“Bella?” Grace called from her bed. Bella slowly turned to her and gave her a smile.

“Was Jake here last night?” she asked nonchalantly as if she had a boy in her room at night all the time like it was no big deal.

“Uh, yeah.” Grace squirmed, “He barged in and then stayed to help me study and we kind of fell asleep.” Bella just nodded her head appreciatively and got up to go to the bathroom. Before she left the room, Grace said hurriedly:

“Don’t tell Charlie.”

“Of course.” Bella confirmed as if this was the most obvious answer in the world.

#twilight #twilightfanfic #fanfiction #jacobxoc #the cullens #edward cullen #new moon #bella swan #jacob black #the pack #a monster lives here

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softestgentlest · 5 years ago

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Lily & Harry - high school fanfic

Harry Styles.

Harry fucking Styles.

An egotistical, quick witted asshole with a silver tongue and easy charisma.

He's also irritatingly privileged; not only is he filthy fucking rich, but he's also extraordinarily intelligent, and to top it all off, positively, mercilessly, despicably gorgeous. As if he wasn't already dealt the winning hand, his otherworldly physical attractiveness afforded him the freedom to do whatever the hell he pleased, whenever, and wherever he wanted to do it.

And, of course, in some cruel twist of fate, he most often chose to utilize his influence by victimizing me: Lillian Mercier, a quiet, harmless junior, whose sole desire is to graduate ASAP, so I can move onto Cambridge University by the Fall of next year.

I'm on track to receive my diploma a year early, according to my guidance counselor, but I've got to keep my GPA above a 3.8 at least, if I have any hope of getting admitted into my uni of choice.

My mind is humming, sifting through upcoming exams, assignments, papers that need writing, and a number of other priorities as I open up my locker.

I'm just pulling out my SAT prep book, when a series of excited murmurs echo through the crowded hallway. A girl a few feet away turns, whispering to her friend, "I think my ovaries just exploded, dude. Look at Harry's haircut."

I roll my eyes, swapping the prep book with the AP English text that's currently weighing down my bag. I try to focus on my mental "to do" list, but I'm now annoyingly in-tune with the girl's conversation, unable to block them out.

"I know! How could he have gotten even hotter? And look at his outfit...like, he can literally make anything look good."

"Oh my goooodd dude, he's graduating this year. I honestly think I'll die, like, he's the only thing that makes this school tolerable."

"Shhhh, they're coming over here."

The girls go quiet, and I tense, keeping my eyes trained on the interior of my locker. Harry will be graduating at the end of the year, as he's a senior, and with that knowledge, I feel intensely relieved.

Even if I can't graduate early, he'll be gone, and I'll actually be able to enjoy my senior year.

A smile plays across my lips as I stretch to reach the top shelf of my locker, standing on my tippy toes. I'm 5'3, and these lockers were clearly built by men of average height, with little to no regard for high schoolers of smaller statures.

I know I threw some flash cards up there in the rush to make the bus yesterday, but even when I step up and onto the metal base of my assigned storage space, I still can't seem to-

I gasp, as I lose my footing and fall backwards. Luckily - or, maybe unluckily - my fall is broken by something solid. I hear a soft grunt, and large hands grip my waist, steadying me.

I pant, pressing a hand to my racing heart, when I feel something soft brush against the sensitive shell of my ear, "good morning to you too, clumsy."

I shiver, and pull away, immediately recognizing that deep, accented voice as it burns hotly into my skin.

Do not engage, I mentally remind myself, forcing my trembling hands to occupy themselves with the contents of my backpack.

He tssks, clicking his tongue, "Aren't you going to thank me?"

"Thanks." I concede through gritted teeth.

He chuckles, leaning too close for comfort once again, "it was my pleasure, Lillian." His voice drops an octave on the word 'pleasure,' giving it an unnecessarily sexual undertone, if only to get under my skin.

At the corner of my vision, I see his shadowed silhouette as he leans against the locker beside mine, tall and domineering as ever.

I ignore his presence, slowly zippering up my bag, and securing my lock, before reluctantly turning to face him.

The first thing I notice is the lack of hair. What had once been long, lustrous, chocolaty curls, is now shortened gossamer strands of hair falling over his forehead in a provocative, untidy tumble. The new cut exposes his defined jawline, and those sharp, light catching cheekbones.

As usual, he's dressed to the nines, somehow managing to make his unexpected attire look effortlessly appealing. Today, he's clad in a strange mix of professional, and bohemian pieces: a blue and white checkered wool jacket, a dark pinstriped suit, a red beaded necklace. He's got on bright pink socks, and white loafers, and his signature assortment of rings.

I clear my throat when he catches me checking him out, "Harry, I didn't know you could sew."

He looks perplexed, considering my assumption with furrowed brows, "I can't."

"Oh, then I suppose it was your mother who made that jacket from one of her tablecloths?"

He tilts his head to one side, and runs his fingers roughly through his freshly cut curls, "this," he snarks, smoothing his hands down the woolen fabric, "is a $2,000 jacket, love."

I roll my eyes, hitching my bag over my shoulder, and turn to walk away, only to come face to face with Mitch and Nick, two of Harry's equally asinine friends.

"Excuse me." I prompt. The two boys ignore me, smirking over my head at their scumbag leader.

I huff, turning back around, knowing full well that they aren't going to do anything unless he commands it. "I don't have time for this, Harry." I cross my arms, pursing my lips in annoyance, "I'm gonna be late to class, and so are you."

His mouth curves dangerously, drawing my attention to the pillow-soft push of his lips. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we, Lillian?" he pronounces my name so that it drips from his shapely lips leisurely, provocatively. "What with your big plans to graduate early."

Immediately, I recoil, meeting his expectant stare with wide eyes, "H-how...?"

"Oh, you thought I wouldn't find out?" He pushes off the lockers, Stepping closer, "did you know that you're GPA is just .01 points less than mine?" His voice is honeyed, sickeningly sweet - it sets off warning bells in my head.

I swallow nervously, taking a small step backwards, "I don't see what that has to do with my plan-"

"Oh, but it has everything to do with your plans." Again, he advances, but this time I hold my ground, tilting my head to meet his stare, "you see, we weren't competing before...not really. But, if you graduate ahead of your class and maintain that same GPA, well...Cambridge won't even look at me, regardless of my achievements, because you'll have the edge."

I blink, processing his words, "You want to go to Cambridge...?"

He quirks a dark brow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

I'm dumbfounded, "But...but I-you...but-that's just ridiculous!" I nearly stomp my foot at the sheer absurdity of the notion, but opt to clench my fists at my sides instead.

He looks utterly amused, and leans a bit closer, a challenge in his eyes: "is that right?"

"Why would you want to go to Cambridge?!" I note how whiny my voice sounds, but I'm too distressed to care.

He's full on grinning now, his emerald eyes dancing with glee. "wouldn't you like to know" He purrs in that slow, sexy drawl, his voice dropping so low that it can only be heard by the two of us.

It is then that the bell rings, shrill and disruptive, tearing me from his trance-like stare.

I realize how close we've gotten, our faces perhaps six inches apart. I can feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him and wrapping around me. Before I can stop myself, I inhale his intoxicating scent: spicy and earthy and masculine, like cigarettes and pine and the leather spines of old books.

For a fraction of a second, my eyes slip shut...he smells so damn good.

Then, just as quickly, I blink, and step back, my heart racing in my chest. I did NOT just...

He straightens, raking his eyes over my trembling frame with an air of affected smugness. Silently, he steps the side, watching me as I collect myself, an embarrassing blush infusing my cheeks.

Slowly, I move down the hallway towards my class, uncharacteristically unconcerned with the possibility of being marked tardy. I can tell that he's following, as students all around turn to stare behind me. We're in the same English class.

My brain seems to have gone into overdrive, conjuring up insane reasons for why I'd smelled him and liked it enough to consider doing it again. Impossible. Harry's a prick. The bane of my existence. Sure, he's wildly attractive, but never have I ever been even remotely interested in him...sexually. So what the hell was that?

Why am I all hot and blushing and trembly? Why?! Especially after he'd dropped the Cambridge bomb! I mean, really? Of all the schools for him to choose, it had to be my dream school. And of the thousands of people I'll be competing with to be admitted, it just had to be him.

Harry's one of the smartest people I've ever met, and he's got the resources and connections to get into any school he wants. The chances of two kids from the same high school getting into Cambridge are absolutely zero, and whether I graduate early or not, Harry's a shoe in for a spot there - he's the ideal student: rich and intelligent and driven, with a shit ton of community service and extracurriculars under his belt, and with a number of published poems and short stories.

He'll take my spot there just by aiming his perfect white grin in the right direction. And if we were both admitted, by some miracle, that would be even worse! 6 more years with him?! I'd die. I couldn't take it. I'd-

"Ah!" I gasp, colliding with a tall boy for the second time today. My books fly out of my arms again, and I fall flat in my ass with a soft yelp of pain.

"Woah! Are you ok?" A voice asks, and I glance up to find a familiar blonde boy looking down at me.

"Um, y-yeah." I say, quickly moving to stand up. Like a gentleman, he reaches down, offering me a hand, and I take it, allowing him to pull me gently to my feet. "Uh, sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention..." I smile sheepishly,

"Oh, no, it's totally fine." He grins back, then kneels down to pick up my books. "As long as your ok."

"Really, I'm fine." I giggle, kneeling down to help. "Your Neil, right? I think we have psych together?"

He hands me my things, standing up, "close! It's Niall, and yeah, 6th period right?"

I nod, "Niall. Yeah, I'm Lily. I'm the one always shouting out the answers and then getting yelled at." I giggle nervously, feeling a little self conscious around this boy with pretty blue eyes and a kind smile.

He laughs, "well, I'm definitely not one to shout out answers. I'm terrible at Psych." He gestures for me to walk with him, and I do, "I'll walk you to your class, just to make sure your alright."

I roll my eyes playfully, but follow, "I already ran into you. Don't let me be the reason that your late to class too."

I lead the way to the English wing, and we joke lightly about our Psych teacher, Mrs. Campbell. By the time we've arrived, the bell has rung, and I know that he's going to be late because of me, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Hey," he calls out, just as I'm about to open the door to my classroom, "maybe you could tutor me sometime? In Psych? You always seem to be yelling the right answers, and I could really use the help..." he rubs the back of his neck nervously, and I can't help but smile at how cute he looks.

"It's the least I can do after running into you." I say, "let's talk in class later?"

"Yeah, sure!" He backs down the hallway, "I'll see you then, Lily!"

When I enter the classroom, there's still a smile on my face, and I quietly make my way to an empty seat in the back. My teacher, Mr. Gray, shoots me an inquisitive look, since I'm not one to show up late to my favorite class, but he doesn't call me out on it.

"Alright guys," he says, "while I was reading you essay submissions from last week, I noticed quite a few spelling errors, so I thought we might have a little bit of a...spelling bee today, just to see where we all stand when it comes to commonly misspelled words." The class groaned collectively, and he laughed, "nothing to worry about. This won't count for a grade, I just want a chance to see where everyone stands. It'll be fun!"

Mr. Gray proceeded to split the class into two groups, and two at a time, he called students up to the board, and in tournament fashion, the winner played the winner from the opposite team. I could tell that he was saving certain students for the end, since they would likely beat out all the competition, thereby depriving their teammates of turns. By the time it got to me, only a few students were left on the opposing team.

"Ok, Kim," he called to my competitor, "your word is Accidentally" Kim correctly spelled two words, and then swapped out with another teammate, Jamie, who only beat me on one word.

"Alright, this is it, guys. Last two. Harry, join Lily up front."

Immediately, my eyes found him, just as the rest of the class turned to watch him rising from his seat. He took a step towards me. Then another. I sort of shivered, watching him move, observing his long legs, slowly closing the space between us with their every measured step. There's something almost feline about it - the way he moves - very masculine...and very...sexual, if that makes any sense at all.

I averted my eyes as he took up the space beside me. Again, the drowsy scent of books and pine with undertones of coffee and tobacco invaded my senses, and I felt my knees threatening to buckle.

"Harry, your word is 'allegiance'"

I felt him smiling, tasted his smooth baritone, skating hotly down my spine: "A-L-L-E-G-I-A-N-C-E. Allegiance."

"Lily, controversy."

I spelled it correctly and held my breath, gazing stubbornly straight ahead.

"Harry, 'immediately.'" He did the same.

"perseverance"

"Accommodate"

"I-N-T-E-L-L-I-G-E-N-C-E, Intelligence." I glanced over at Harry, noting the look of intense boredom on his face as he stared off into the distance. Clearly, this was too easy for both of us.

"Too easy is it, Lillian?"

"Uh, w-what?" I snapped out of my reverie, glancing at Mr. Gray, who looked rather amused.

"If you think it's too easy, we can really put you two to the test. What do you think class?" Mr. Gray looked around, and the class erupted into excited giggles and shouts.

Realizing my mistake, I felt my cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, "oh I-I didn't m-mean to say that um...out loud sir..."

The damage had already been done. Mr. Gray grinned, clearly excited to have piqued the class's interest, "alright then, let's try....sacrilegious."

Harry, looking rather more alert than he had before, turned to look at me, holding my stare even as each honeyed letter fell from his lips "S-A-C-R-I-L-E-G-I-O-U-S" the flecks of gold in his eyes danced, embers crackling, glittering.

"Conscientious, Lily."

"Oh, um..." I quickly averted my gaze, glancing nervously at my trembling fingers, "C-O-N..." my heart wobbled in my chest. What's comes next? "...S-C-I-E-N-T-I-O-U-S, Conscientious." I want this to be over...

Harry chuckled beside me, low and slow. I felt his eyes on me. "bureaucratic." He spelled, quick as a whip, and all eyes were back on me.

"Bourgeoisie." Amidst the nerves and exhaustion, my stubbornness gave way to another correct answer. I won't lose to him. Not this, not Cambridge.

He managed "clairvoyant," "coalescence," and "kaleidoscope." I got through "lachrymose," "mnemonic," and "pharmaceutical," and then, finally, he messed up.

I heard it in his voice first, knew before it happened that I had won. Mr. Gray - once again proving himself to be my favorite teacher- threw "triskaidekaphobia" at Harry, and we both froze.

"T-R-I-S-K....A-D-E-K-A-P-H-O-B-I-A." Harry murmured uncertainly, sounding just as breathless as I felt. The class had gone silent, and I could hear my heart racing.

"Incorrect." Mr. Gray uttered, but before the class could erupt into cheers, he continued, "let me just say, Harry, Lily, that was extraordinary. Really, very good show." He slowly began to clap, and our classmates followed suit, whooping and jeering at Harry good-naturedly.

I turned to glance at him then, not feeling very excited about having won. I couldn't help the little gasp that escaped my throat when I saw his face. He had curved his mouth into a grin, ran a hand through his hair boyishly, a calculated carelessness slackening his features - but I saw it in the way his lips twitched, in the way his eyes glossed over and darkened to muted jade.

He's upset. I realized, moving closer without really thinking about it. He's really, really upset.

"H-Harry?" I heard myself whisper, voice trembling. Everyone had, by now, moved into their own little groups, all talking animatedly about the results of our little duel, so they weren't really paying us any mind.

His smile faltered - just for a moment - "good game." He husked, his voice raw. He held out a hand, quirking a brow, watching me with those expectant eyes.

It was then, in that moment, that I realized, very suddenly, that Harry is...beautiful. Like, proper beautiful, like earth shatteringly, mind numbingly gorgeous.

The realization hit me with such immense force that I had to grab his outstretched hand to keep from crumbling to the ground. "O-oh." My mouth parts on the startled little noise, and suddenly I'm very aware of the gentle press of his cold rings against my fingers, his large hand claiming mine, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he holds me. "Uh-huh." My response catches in my throat and comes out sounding like a strangled hiccup.

Quickly, I pull away, stumbling back a few steps, I tear my eyes from his face, flailing my hands around like a monkey.

What the fuck?

•••••••••

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2 💛

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles imagine #harry styles x oc #fanfic #imagine

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photon-insights · 8 months ago

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astrodances · 6 years ago

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Pidge & Rover (A 'Lilo & Stitch' Voltron AU)

FF.net link || AO3 link

Happy Holidays to Zoe (@zoedozy)! I’m your @pidgeholidayexchange2018 buddy! I had a whole lot of fun with this, especially because at first, I thought this was gonna be super hard bc I’m not that big on Disney movies. But one of the few that I truly love is Lilo & Stitch, and when I started fitting VLD characters into the movie, things started to click and then it took off on its own. So, thank you for a very fun challenge! :D I hope you enjoy!

(And this is something I pretty much never do on my fics here on Tumblr, but I have some more notes about the AU at the end of the fic (to avoid spoilers).)

Warnings: character deaths, mentions of experimentation on animals

Pairings: hints of Matt x Allura

"Matt, get out! I have to make a wish!" Pidge hits Matt repeatedly with her pillow to usher him out the door. She's never seen a meteor like this before, and she intends to take full advantage of it, no matter how illogical science may think it is to wish on them. "Can't you go any faster?"

But Matt's resistance and playful laughter are not helping.

"Matt, get out!" She throws her pillow at his back with all the force she can manage, and he finally crosses the threshold to her room. Room clear of older brothers, she slams the door shut and immediately runs over to her window. The cool Hawaiian breeze brushes her cheeks as she kneels and leans against the windowsill, arms folded over each other as she watches the green smoke rise from the meteor's impact site all the way into the starry black night.

Pidge would love nothing more than to go explore the meteorite, but Matt would never let her go out this late at night on her own, and she certainly doesn't want him to come along.

Besides, this wish is more important. A wish on a meteor like this surely has to come true.

So she sifts carefully through her wishes, her heart's desires. Her own rocket. No more bullies. Admission to the Garrison. Her parents alive and back home with her and Matt, and that they'd never left for that stupid trip four years ago.

She settles for something realistic.

"Just...please, I need a friend. Someone nice and who wants to be my friend. Someone who'll take away some of this loneliness. Please."

She sighs after a moment, knowing that her breath is probably better spent elsewhere.

Because of the sigh, though, she doesn't hear the soft click of her door shutting. Nor does she hear the distant roar coming from the meteor.

The next day, Matt surprises Pidge: they're going to the adoption shelter so she can pick out a new pet. At first she's confused, but as Matt gently guides her towards the kennel before talking with the adoption clerk again, her nerves calm. Some unknown part of her knows that this is it. She's going to walk out of here with a cat or dog to call her own. A new friend.

But when she walks through the kennel, Pidge finds it empty. Her shoulders droop with each passing cage and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she's destined to be alone, until the skittering of claws catches her attention.

She whips around to see something she definitely wasn't expecting: a lion cub, she thinks, but with green-and-white fur, unnaturally yellow eyes, and its front left leg replaced by a silver-and-green prosthetic. She sits there, watching her, her tail gently sweeping the floor. A beautiful creature.

"Hi," Pidge squeaks with a small wave.

Definitely unprepared for it, she hears a hello in the back of her mind, which causes her to stumble back a few steps in shock. Did the cub just...talk to her in her mind?!

She tests her theory. "Um, I'm Pidge. Do you have a name?"

I am the one known as the Green Lion.

Pidge can't believe her...mind, or any of her senses for that matter, not even when the lion trots over to her and rubs up against her leg with a welcoming purr. But by the time she walks back out of the kennel, she's a believer. Even as Matt and the clerk recoil in shock at her choice of pet, and she finds out that only she can hear the lion, she knows: her wish was granted.

After the initial doubts wear off, the clerk asks for a name.

"Her name is...Rover," Pidge declares confidently.

"That's not a cat's name," the clerk begins, only to change gears when Matt quietly warns him. "...in Italy, but here it's a great name! Very unique!"

As Pidge watches her new cat stand alert on the shelter's front porch, she hears another thought. Rover? Is that my Earth name?

Pidge does a double take. "What? Earth name?"

Rover quickly looks away. Never mind.

After what Pidge can only describe as one of the most peculiar afternoons of her life, she finds herself staring across the table at Rover, who's perched on a seat of her own, at Matt's place of work: Galactic Luaus.

"No pets at the table, Pidge," Matt reminds her for the fifth time that night as he picks up her empty dinner plate. He takes stock of the way his little sister sighs and he wants to ask what's wrong, but he can't. Not while he's working. So instead he offers, "Want some cake?"

She merely shrugs and mumbles, "Sure," but he can see the way the corner of her mouth ticks up into a grin, and he smiles as he leaves for the kitchen.

Allura, one of his coworkers (and his crush, according to his journal), then walks by, fresh off the stage after another successful fire-dancing performance. Pidge perks up and waves her over. "Hey, Allura, check it out! I got a cat!"

It takes all of one look for things to turn from an innocent introduction into a spiteful standoff. In an instant, Rover is on all fours in a ready stance, growling at Allura, who looks like she's ready to bolt but doesn't want to make a scene. In the next, Rover is pouncing on Allura and pinning her to the ground, snarling in her face as nearby tourists stand up from their seats to get a better look at the scene.

Pidge goes to pull Rover off of Allura, but before she can walk two steps, her head's filled with not one, but two sets of thoughts. She tries to hear them through all the noise of the crowd.

Tell me where–––Lion is!

–––on your life, you–––

I will find––one way or–––. ––for's on his way.

I'm not go–––let him or––––itch take you–––

It's only when Matt rushes by her that Pidge can even comprehend that Rover was talking to Allura. An eerie feeling snakes down her spine. Why can Allura converse with Rover? And what in the world are they arguing about?

Matt's quick to pry Rover off of Allura, who's hair and outfit got ruffled in the skirmish. Rover simply hisses down at her, paws swiping violently at empty air as she wiggles to break free of Matt's grip. Lotor, their boss, strides into the half-circle now surrounding the three of them and glances between Allura and Matt.

"Is that your cat, Holt?" Lotor demands.

Matt stutters, willing himself not to look at Pidge before nodding affirmatively.

Lotor closes his eyes and sighs, closing the few steps between him and arm's reach of Rover. He's much quieter now. "Leave. I don't think this is going to work out."

As Lotor returns to help Allura up, Matt's gaze falls to the ground. He sets Rover down, then turns and walks slowly past Pidge, simply beckoning her to follow with a wave of his hand. She makes sure Rover's following her, and together, they leave.

The next morning, Pidge awakes to the sound of a knock at the front door and Rover nowhere to be found. In a scramble, she grabs her glasses off of her nightstand and scurries down the stairs, pausing before she comes into view of the front door. She hears whispering and can feel the tension radiating from her cat. She's about to peek around the corner, when she hears her in her mind.

Stop.

Pidge wants to question why, even though she can't. So she stays still and listens.

"-I can't keep covering for you with Iverson, Matt. I'm sorry."

"Look, just tell him I'm in between jobs right now, okay? I'll find a new one by the end of the week, by the end of today if I can help it."

"And when are you going to study in that time?"

"I've been studying. I got this, Shiro, okay? I promise."

A sigh. "You better ace that exam. Otherwise, I don't think I'll be able to stop Iverson this time. And you have 'til the end of the week for the job." Another sigh. "I know things are tough, but you can do this, Matt. You have greatness within."

The door closes after a few seconds, and by then, Pidge is already back up the stairs in her room.

That afternoon, Pidge and Rover join Matt in his search for a new job. Or rather, he searches while they hang out nearby, observing the scene.

While Matt tries his hand at a coffee shop, Pidge and Rover sit inconspicuously at a table, far away from other patrons. Pidge sips triumphantly at her coffee; it was the only way Matt could get her to stop teasing him about his crush on Allura.

As she revels in the warmth of the drink, she hears Rover ask, Who is Shiro?

Pidge sighs. "Shiro's...an old family friend, and Matt's commanding officer at the Garrison."

Rover squints her eyes, making them catch a ray of sunshine. Her tail twitches defensively. Your brother is with the government?

"Not quite yet. He's in prep school right now." Pidge's expression drops. "He's...been having a hard time with it lately. Pretty much ever since our parents died, he's been on thin ice there. I guess, between earning money to pay for his tuition, and taking care of me, it doesn't leave him a lot of time to actually focus on school..."

They both fall silent, but Pidge shakes it off. She knows her brother's doing the best he can. It's not his fault he got stuck having to raise his little sister. She decides to shift the attention.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asks Rover, and when the cat nods, she continues. "What's your deal with Allura?"

Rover tilts her head innocently. Whatever do you mean?

"You know what I mean." Pidge's voice drops to a whisper as she leans in, making sure others can't hear her. "Why did you attack her? And why could I hear her thoughts as well as yours?"

A few ticks pass by before Rover replies, ignoring her questions altogether. Did you hear anything specific?

Before Pidge can call her out on it, Matt calls for them.

Ah, we should go, Rover thinks a little too quickly. She leaps off of her chair towards the older Holt sibling. Looks like he did not get the job. We should comfort him.

But Pidge doesn't move. The conversation begins swirling around in her head as she tries to combine it with everything else that's happened. Rover was suspicious of Shiro and Matt's involvement with the Garrison. She flat-out attacked Allura. They seemed to know each other, and they definitely shared common knowledge about...what? Another lion? And some guy that was "on his way?" And they could both talk to each other through their thoughts.

Pidge's eyes grow wide. The meteor.

She knew from the beginning that her cat, her lion, was different, from her appearance to her telepathic abilities, but Pidge must've been too focused on the fact that she has a friend now. But now, things are starting to fall into place.

Are Allura and Rover...aliens?

Pidge wakes up late the next morning. Yesterday had drained her, Matt even more so. They had walked and backtracked all over town with no luck in finding Matt a job, and Pidge had been on high alert ever since her realization. She hadn't said anything to Rover or her brother about it, but she watched carefully and stayed up well into the night, trying to make sense of it all.

A small part of her loves this: another alien conspiracy to try and solve, just like she's done so many times in the past. But the part of her that knows that this one is real, that she's right in the middle of it all, is frightened. It feels like she has no one to turn to, that everyone she's close to is a part of it, even Matt and Shiro. They might not be aware of anything going on with it, but they're with the Garrison. She can't just tell them and actually drag them into this.

Worst of all, it feels like she's going to lose what she thought was a friend specially sent for her.

With a groan, Pidge rolls over and reaches for her glasses first, then her phone on her nightstand. She has a text from Matt, telling her that he went into town with Allura to look into a "very promising job lead." She texts him back "good luck," and almost adds a warning to be careful, but decides better of it.

As she gets up from bed, she notices that Rover is, once again, nowhere to be found. Anywhere in the house, it seems, a quick check downstairs and outside tells her.

Pidge's shoulders slump. She knew it was too good to be true.

As she starts to get out Matt's secret stash of coffee, the consideration of putting out "missing pet" flyers enters her mind.

The next thought that enters her mind is not hers, and is accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.

Watch out!

Pidge immediately wheels about, sending coffee grounds flying everywhere, and backs into the counter. Matt's gonna kill her for that.

But any and all thoughts of coffee leave her mind as chaos enters the room. She watches in stunned disbelief as a fully-grown black lioness sprints through the kitchen, pursued shortly by Rover and two pointy-eared men, one with white hair and a beard, the other with orange hair and a mustache.

Well, that explained some things.

Pidge quickly follows the scene into the living room, where it has escalated even further. The lions are thrashing about in a literal catfight, and the two men––aliens––look like they're trying to capture the black one without getting scratched.

And oh god, the thoughts. Pidge can't make sense of any of them, just that she can hear all four yelling in her head in addition to the actual yelling and growling echoing off the living room walls.

She can't do anything but stand there, spellbound by the fight and worried for Rover as her living room's torn to shreds. Her cat seems to be holding her own though, enough to at least keep things in a deadlock. It isn't until the white-haired alien pulls out what looks like a blaster and aims it at the lions that Pidge actually moves.

"ROVER!"

Pidge knocks herself into the alien's arm, causing the blaster to shoot a searing hole through the ceiling. A split-second of silence follows: the alien glares at Pidge, and she looks to Rover, who looks betrayed either by the alien or Pidge herself, she can't tell.

When the black lion takes the opportunity granted by everyone's hesitation to slip free and crash through the front window, the two aliens move first, but Pidge grabs onto the white-haired one's wrist. He practically snarls back at her, then yells to his companion, "Coran, don't lose her!" The orange-haired alien, Coran, yells back some sort of affirmation as he takes off through the front door. With an exaggerated yank of his wrist, the white-haired one breaks free from Pidge's grip and follows him.

"Hey!" Pidge huffs after him, but it's no use.

As the dust settles, she's surprised to see Rover still standing there.

The only thing she can think to ask is, "Mind finally explaining what's going on?" She doesn't mean for it to come out so angry, but she doesn't miss the wince that crosses Rover's features as she looks away.

The Black Lion and I, we are...experiments. Weapons. From outer space. Rover carefully glances back up at her, and relays, I never meant to drag you into this. I am sorry.

Pidge eyes Rover's prosthetic leg, and her heart falls. That someone would do that to anyone, let alone an innocent animal, and just use them like that is beyond her. It makes her wish that she'd been completely wrong about this conspiracy theory of hers. She wills herself to breathe, and asks, "So...Allura is...?"

An alien as well. Her father sent her here to protect the Black Lion, but...things have changed since then. I was sent to find them both, and when I–

The sound of wood breaking above them makes them both jump and Pidge screams as a giant net covers them both and turns everything dark. There's a flail of limbs and paws jumbled together with yelling and growling as she finally latches onto Rover's neck, she thinks. They're being carried by someone who's obviously very strong and has deafening footsteps.

Despite these correct assumptions, though, Pidge is still very surprised when she's shaken out into a glass tube and meets her kidnapper face-to-horrifyingly-giant-purple-fluffy-face. No matter how much she tries to back away in her confined space, she can't escape the sight of him. "Giant" seems too small a word to describe his size once she actually sees how tall he is.

Sendak, Rover thinks, causing Pidge to look over at her. She's in a defensive stance, snarling at him.

Sendak laughs and taps the glass, which has been latched onto some sort of vehicle. When he speaks, Pidge has to cover her ears, his voice is so loud. "Alfor may not be able to capture the Black Lion," he begins. "But with your help, I will."

He laughs again when Rover tries to bust through the glass and walks out of view. A few seconds later, they're driving...up? No, they're flying. Pidge gulps. If their captor is the one flying, then this must be a spaceship. That thought alone is enough to cause a swell of panic in her chest, which only rises when Rover tells her, I will return, and then vanishes from view.

Pidge's mouth is agape. Here she is in a situation that's so unbelievable she can't even begin to explain it, let alone understand it, and the only thought she has to comfort her is I will return.

What else can she do but trust it?

It's not even an hour that passes by the time Rover rescues her, yet things have changed so much.

For one thing, Rover's now working with the Black Lion.

While Rover rescues Pidge from the glass tube (there are several frantic thoughts of do NOT look down), the Black Lion fights Sendak in the cockpit, and wins. She tosses him deep into the Pacific Ocean, and destroys his ship.

When the two lions leap from the burning wreckage, with Pidge's arms wrapped around Rover's neck, she screws her eyes shut. The next time that she opens them, she's hanging onto the wing of Alfor and Coran's spaceship. Matt and Allura are cheering alongside the two men inside.

They are also on our side now, Rover explains at Pidge's confused look.

As the ship crash-lands into the shore, some sense of calm finally winds its way into Pidge. There'll be time for full explanations later, but for now, everyone's safe and on the same page, and the bad guy's gone.

Or so she thinks.

When they all step out onto the sand, the first thing she hears is, "Guards, capture them!"

Pidge quickly blinks back the sunlight to see that everyone but her and Matt are being held by robotic sentries. The one who gave the order is standing about twenty feet away: a tall, lanky blue alien woman, wearing a purple hooded cloak.

"Haggar," Allura spits out, fighting against the sentry who's holding her. "What are you doing here?"

Haggar's voice is deep and chilling when she talks. "I knew your father would betray his oath, and so I've come to retrieve the Black Lion, and the Green Lion, myself."

"You're deranged if you think I'm going to let that happen," Alfor answers. "I'm not going to be your prisoner anymore."

"And what makes you think that's the case?"

Alfor smirks. "Because I've got five lions, and you've got none."

Before Haggar can react, Rover and the Black Lion teleport from the grip of their sentries closer to her, and are joined by three other lion cubs – a red one, a blue one, and a yellow one, each with a different prosthetic leg.

Haggar whirls around and holds up what looks like a black ball of plasma to Pidge, with the intent to use it against the lions. Just as she's about to aim it at Rover, however, the Black Lion shoots her in the back with a laser from her mouth, and the other lions join in on the action until nothing remains of the witch.

At the same time that this happens, Shiro ambushes the group with a clear shot to the side of a sentry's head, which spurs Allura, Coran, and Alfor to fight back against the ones holding them as he knocks all of them out.

Matt smiles at his friend, while Pidge can hardly believe her eyes.

"How did you even know...?" she asks Shiro as he approaches the group.

He smiles, twirling a blaster in his hand and winking at her. "Matt called me. Said I should come check out your new cat?"

Yeah, she missed a lot in Sendak's ship.

As introductions are made and damage control begins, Pidge searches through the growing crowd to find her cat, her hero. When a soft meow reaches her ears, she twirls around to find Rover standing proudly.

Looking for me?

Pidge laughs and runs forward, wrapping her arms around Rover's neck as she falls to her knees. She plants a soft kiss into her fur, then says, "I'm so glad you're alright."

Rover nuzzles her shoulder. As am I with you.

They sit down and curl up together and watch everyone move around them. The sun's low in the sky now. It makes everything golden, including Rover's eyes.

"Does this mean you're going back into space now?" Pidge asks. She's afraid of the answer, but she has to know.

I do not think so. That earns a look of surprise. I am sure Allura and the Black Lion can vouch for me, and that the other lions will agree, but I want to stay right here by your side.

Pidge can only smile gratefully as she leans back against Rover and they watch the beginning of the sunset together.

Wish well spent.

Official ‘Pidge & Rover’ AU notes:

Character parallels are in parentheses where applicable. This is based only on the first movie, but feel free to continue it with the other movies/tv series in your head if you wish!

In essence, the main premise strays away from a Pidge & Rover-centric story, and instead is more like the Green Lion is a catalyst for Pidge uncovering the conspiracy/mystery around Allura!

I headcanon Pidge (Lilo) in this AU to be about the age she is in that last flashback of "Reunion" - aka she's about to start middle school, so give or take 12. Which works as a nice middle ground between her VLD canon age (15-16) and my headcanon for Lilo's age (7-8).

Matt (Nani), on the other hand, is probably a little older than her in this than he is in VLD. I have him in his early-mid 20s.

This probably doesn't line up with anything in real life, but for the AU, I have the Garrison having a "prep school" in Hawaii, which I guess is basically everything through college, if we're going by Matt's age? Main point is, is that there's some sort of tuition he has to pay, which is hard to do when he can't find/hold a steady, well-paying job, has to provide for his little sister, and has to still find the time to study and actually succeed at the Garrison.

Sam and Colleen (Lilo's parents) died when Pidge was about 8, during some trip for the Garrison (maybe even into space, if you wanna be bold). Sam was a high-ranking officer there, and he had a close friendship with Shiro (Cobra Bubbles), just like in canon. Because of it, Shiro kept a close eye on Matt at the Garrison after Sam's death, and basically kept Iverson from kicking him out due to poor grades.

Pidge and Matt are on a lot better terms than Lilo and Nani as far as sibling/guardian relationships go (between this and the Garrison thing, there's no social worker plot line in the AU). They grew closer to each other after their parents' deaths, though since Matt is so busy, Pidge often finds herself alone. But instead of stirring up trouble (accidentally or not) like Lilo, Pidge just keeps to herself mostly. She doesn't have anyone like Mertle to even pretend is a friend.

She does have bullies to deal with though, and Matt does indeed cheer her up by bringing her cake. ;P

Instead of photography, Pidge's main interest in this is thinking up conspiracy theories - and boy does she get one in this, eh?

Rover (Stitch) isn't destructive like Stitch. I played around with the idea of Haggar adding a bit of programming for her to be violent should someone stand in the way of her finding the Black Lion, which I guess does come through, but it's not as pronounced as I had it at first. Her main function is to scout out the Black Lion's location.

Rover's definitely more similar to a cat that Stitch is to a dog. I thought about having her be like Stitch, just more cat-like than dog-like, but the image wasn't settling right in my head.

Rover's essentially an alien cyborg lion cub (as are the other lions). They're experiments created by Alfor (Jumba), an Altean scientist in this AU.

Rover does not use contractions.

The Galra took over the Alteans however long ago, and so before they could get to him, Alfor sent his daughter, Allura (David), and his first (and at the time only) lion, the Black Lion, far away to protect them. They ended up on Earth, and Allura hid the lion and blended in with the population.

There's no Zarkon in this, but Haggar basically has his goal in mind of finding the Black Lion.

Haggar (the Grand Councilwoman) had heard of Alfor's first lion, and so when he became her prisoner, she forced him to make more lions and use them to find the Black Lion. She herself did more experiments on them (that's where they got their prosthetic legs, and why the Black Lion doesn't have any prosthetics).

After ordering him to send out the lions to find the Black Lion, Haggar offered Alfor a deal: once he got a signal that Allura/the Black Lion had been found, he would go capture the Black Lion in exchange for his freedom. While he didn't want to put Allura in harm's way, being a prisoner had made him desperate. (Later, he has a change of heart not because he's fired (like in the movie), but because he realizes that he has allies in Allura, Coran, Matt, Pidge, and the lions.)

Coran (Pleakley) is Alfor's assistant and another Altean prisoner. Alfor forces Haggar to include him in the freedom deal and let him come along because, if anything, he'll need his help in capturing the lion and because he loves him.

Sendak (Captain Gantu) is basically the same all-around, both as Gantu and in his VLD role as Haggar's puppet. XD

Both Haggar and Sendak are evil through and through in this AU. In my mind as I wrote this, they didn't have any chance of redemption, and that's why they died. (They weren't in charge/part of some Galactic Federation out there; it's still the Galra.) In other words, an adoption certificate definitely wouldn't have stopped Haggar.

Some other little things:

Allura and Matt like to surf together, Pidge not so much.

Lotor is the equivalent of the luau manager. ;P

YOU CAN BET YOUR QUIZNAK THAT THIS DIALOGUE HAPPENED (it was just too short a scene to include):

Pidge: "Did you lose your job because of Rover and me?"

Matt: "Nah, the manager's a space vampire, and he wanted me to join his legion of the undead."

If there's anything I didn't cover but you'd like my take on, please don't be afraid to drop me a message! :D

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photoninsightstheaitool · 8 months ago

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mandilion76 · 7 years ago

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In case anyone was curious

Under the cut is a 7 page prep list I needed to submit for my baking fundamentals lab for our practical exam. I am feeling optimistic that I have created a good plan to be able to complete everything in four hours. I am pretty proud of how it turned out, hopefully my instructor agrees!

Sanitation Plan

Prior to start of lab, make sure nails are cut and clean underneath

Prior to start of lab, make sure uniform is clean

Fill sanitizer and detergent buckets

Place chemical buckets in back of mixer next to sink

Set bus tub in sink for dirty dishes

Test thermometer

Get timer

Clean station as you go

Clean dishes as needed, especially in between each task

Store raw ingredients such as eggs and milk in cooler

Store all finished product in cooler or wrapped up (eclairs/creampuffs) on work surface

Wear gloves when in contact with any finished product

(whether when wrapping up or plating)

Be sure to cook all product to temp if one is indicated in recipe

Sweep and mop floors

Wash, rinse, & sanitize all equipment

Put all equipment away

Wash, rinse, & sanitize all surfaces in addition to the detergent/sanitize buckets

Prep List

Arrive early for lab

Get mis en place from cooler

Store any ingredients that need to stay cold in lab cooler (milk, eggs, cream, etc)

Fill sanitization and soap buckets, place towards back of work station behind mixer next to sink, one towel in each bucket, have additional towel for hands and for removing items from oven.

Place bus tub in sink for dirty dishes

Clean & sanitize work station

Wrap plates in plastic wrap and set aside until needed

Turn on oven to 425 F for eclairs & cream puffs

Pate a Choux

Ingredients Weight Equipment

Water 227 g Sieve

Unsalted butter 115g *1/2 sheet pan

Salt 1g *spatula

Bread flour 170g *Mixer/Paddle/Bowl

Eggs 5 eggs *Piping Bag/Tip

Bring water,salt and butter to a boil in saucepan. Stir in bread flour, all at once and cook until mixture forms ball and coats bottom of pan.

Transfer mixture to mixer with paddle attachment and mix on medium speed to cool mixture to 140 degrees. Add eggs, one at a time, until incorporated.

Fill piping bags. Pipe mixture onto parchment lined sheetpan (pipe 6 eclairs 1” by 4” and 6 cream puffs 2” in diameter). Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Lower oven to 375 and bake for 10-20 minutes longer until golden in crevices (check at 15 minute mark, do not slam oven door-may deflate) Remove from oven and lower heat to 350for the geniose.

(WEAR GLOVES!!!) Once cool, wrap in plastic wrap until ready to fill and present.

***WASH DISHES & CLEAN/SANITIZE WORK STATION***

Pull out eggs for Genoise and place in warm water.

Pastry Cream

Ingredients Weight Equipment

Sugar 2oz *Saucepan

Milk 16oz *Whisk

Egg Yolks 3 *Sieve

Whole Eggs 2 *Steel Bowl

Cornstarch 1.25oz *2 Hotel Pans, 1 filled with ice

Sugar 2oz *Spatula

Butter 1oz

Vanilla .5 Tbsp

In saucepan, dissolve 2oz sugar in milk and just bring to boil. Beat eggs and yolks in stainless steel bowl. Sift cornstarch and 2oz sugar into the eggs and beat until smooth. Temper egg mixture by slowly streaming milk, stirring constantly. Return mixture to heat and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Remove from heat once comes to a boil & thickens. Stir in butter & vanilla, mix until butter is melted & completely blended. Wearing gloves, push through a sieve into a hotel pan and cover with plastic wrap. Place on top of hotel pan containing ice, label with name & date, & place into cooler until needed.

***WASH DISHES & CLEAN/SANITIZE WORK STATION***

Genoise

Ingredients Weight Equipment

Eggs 3 *Mixer/Whisk/Bowl

Egg Yolks 2 *9” Round Pan

AP Flour 2.5oz Cooling Rack

Vanilla .5 tsp Sieve

Add eggs & yolks to mixer. On medium speed, whip until foamy, about 30 seconds. Add sugar & continue whipping on medium speed until pale yelp & fluffy, about 8-10 minutes(mix on high speed for last 2-3 minutes).

While eggs are whipping, sift flour 3x on parchment paper and set aside.

Turn mixer to low speed & quickly add flour all at once, then flavoring. Try to not get the flour in the whisk if possible. Mix just to incorporate, 1 second, then mix on medium speed for another 1-2 second. Remove and finish mixing by hand (move whisk around just enough to see that all flour has been absorbed. Pour into pan and put in oven as quickly as possible to prevent deflation. Bake for 20-25 minutes, check at 20 minutes. Cake is done if toothpick in center or cake comes out clean.

*Turn heat to 400 for the blueberry bread.

Let cool in pan for 15 minutes, then invert on cooling rack and cool completely.

(WEAR GLOVES) Wrap with plastic wrap and set aside until ready to present.

***WASH DISHES & CLEAN/SANITIZE WORK STATION***

Blueberry Bread

Ingredients Weight Equipment

Pastry Flour 10oz *2 stainless steel bowls

Sugar 5oz *4 loaf pans

Baking Powder 18g *½ sheet pan

Salt 4g *large sieve

Beaten Eggs 2 *2 spatulas

Milk 7oz

Vanilla 8g

Melted Butter 4oz

Blueberries, well drained 4oz

Sift together all dry ingredients into one bowl and combine all liquid ingredients (including melted butter) in the other. Add liquids to to dry and mix just until all flour is moistened. ***BATTER WILL LOOK LUMPY; DO NOT OVERMIX***

Scale 7-8.5oz of batter into each loaf pan and place all 4 pans on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes or done when toothpick in center of bread comes out clean

***WASH DISHES & CLEAN/SANITIZE WORK STATION***

Whipped Cream

Ingredients Weight Equipment

Cream 8oz *Mixer/Whisk/Bowl

Sugar 1oz *Spatula

*Pastry Bag w/Tip

*large deli container

Place cold cream in mixer bowl. On medium speed, whip cream until thick. Fill piping bag and place in cooler until needed.

Ganache

Ingredients Weight Equipment

Dark Chocolate 8oz *Bowl *spatula

Heavy Cream 8oz *Saucepan

Chop chocolate into small pieces and place. Bring cream just to boil, stirring to prevent scorching. Remove from heat and pour over chocolate. Stir & let stand for a few minutes. Stir again until chocolate is completely melted and smooth in texture.

***WASH DISHES & CLEAN/SANITIZE WORK STATION***

For Presentation

*BE SURE TO WEAR GLOVES AT ALL TIMES

1) Cream Puffs-chose the best three and cut top of each puff. Using pastry bag, fill with whipped cream. Replace tops and dust with powdered sugar. Place on a plate.

2) Eclairs-chose the best three and cut top of each éclair. Using pastry bag, fill with pastry cream. Dip tops in ganache and replace tops.

3) Blueberry Bread-chose the best 2 loaves. Cut one loaf in half, then cut one slice to present on plate. Present other loaf whole on a separate plate.

4) Genoise-plate one slice for tasting and the remaining cake for evaluation.

5) Whipped Cream, Pastry Cream, & Ganache-place small amounts of each on separate plates along with spoons for tasting.

Once Chef Susie has finished evaluating/testing = WASH & PUT AWAY ALL DISHES * CLEAN/SANITIZE WORK STATION* SWEEP & MOP FLOOR IF NEEDED

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