╱ ╯- ❝ fali's writing storage ! ❞

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ release ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 21/07/2019 | character: veronica 'ronnie' garcia | cw: n/a

Release was a day that almost every inmate dreamed of at some point in their sentence. Of course, Ronnie even dreamt about it, the prospect of freedom was something she always craved, even before she was arrested and sent to prison. It was everything Ronnie could ever ask for, after all, she finally got to live a normal life. Well, as normal as an ex-convict could live with the prejudice thrown against them. However, a part of Ronnie was terrified of the life that awaited outside of those iron bars. Her entire life was in Litchfield--at least, it was where her mother and wife were. Now… she had to leave them behind.

She had already said goodbye to Winnie which already tore her apart deep down, but this goodbye made her heart sink even lower than she thought possible. At least with Winnie, she had the chance to hug her again when the time came. However, when it came to her mother, Ruriko Sasaki, there was a part of Ronnie that knew she’d never get to hug her mother again. Not that she’d actually called Ruriko her mother out loud, yet the inmate had been a better parental figure than the other older adults in her life.

This was the hardest goodbye she was going to have to make.

“Ruru?” Ronnie questioned, breath hitching in her throat. Both knew what day it was and so silence followed for a couple of moments. Blinking, she struggled for her words as her fingers gently tapped against her arm. “Are you going to miss me?” It was a simple question. It’s not like Ronnie made a big impression on the prison as a whole outside of her meltdown which sent her to the SHU before. A part of her wondered if Ruriko would just move on to the next innocent young prisoner to adopt into the small gang that had formed in C-Block (but another part of her doubted she would find out that happened, after Carol’s death).

Another moment of silence which was not uncommon when it came to dealing with Ruriko. She wasn’t exactly one to react in a big way, in fact, she was known for her sly tactics, it’s why she was feared throughout the cellblock after all. Yet what surprised Ronnie was the offer of her arms around the younger inmate’s shoulder as she was pulled closer to Ruriko.

“You shouldn’t need to ask that.” Ruriko’s voice was usually laced with a cold, almost emotionless tone yet instead it was rather gentle, warmer even. For a moment Ronnie froze with the almost sudden contact yet found herself warming into Ruriko’s embrace. Almost instantly, Ronnie swooped around and crashed into Ruriko, grasping her tightly in a hug that almost took Ruriko’s breath away just for a moment. It was rare for Ronnie to give hugs but when she did, it was as if she never wanted to let go. Yet at some point, she had to. She knew it.

“You’re my daughter,” Ruriko continued as Ronnie kept her grip. “Of course I’ll miss you. Who else is sane enough in here, huh?” A gentle chuckle escaped both of them as Ronnie reached to wipe her tears away.

Ronnie knew after all that this would be their last chance for an embrace between a mother and daughter.

“You always have Winnie,” Ronnie chuckled as she struggled to keep her tears contained.

“Definitely not the same.”

“Ah… I suppose not,” Ronnie mused with a chuckle to be found under her breath. Her breath found itself hitched in her throat once again as she continued. “I… I-I’m going to miss you, mom.” She released Ruriko from the hug as the guards started to call.

“Garcia, it’s almost time to go, come on!”

“I’ll miss you too, Ronnie,” the older inmate murmured as she reached behind her back. In a flash, her hair which was always tucked in a neat ponytail was instead released and her signature red bobble lay in her hand. “Keep this.” As she spoke, she reached out her hand and presented the bobble.

“R-Really?” Ronnie was taken aback. Ruriko was almost never seen with her hair in anything but a ponytail, kept up by the bobble now presented in her hand. “Are you sure? You, you don’t have any more! S-Surely I can just buy some on the outside?” As she worked up in a panic, Ruriko reached out and grabbed Ronnie’s hand, placing the bobble in.

“You always were a strange one, huh? Ruriko chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind Ronnie’s ear to tidy up her appearance. “It’ll be fine. Take it and come on, before they leave you here.”

“Garcia! Do you want to leave or not?” the guard yelled as the leaving inmates gathered at the exit.

One last hug. Ronnie grasped tightly onto Ruriko, tears refusing to stay at bay. “I love you, mom. I’m coming to visit as soon as I can, okay?”

Mom. She had never had the courage to call Ruriko that before under fear of reprehend. Yet it felt oddly liberating. With that, Ronnie headed towards the gathering inmates, fist curled tight around her new prized possession.

This was it, after all.

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word count: 871
a/n: another 2019 drabble for ronnie! this is when she was first released. ruriko was ronnie's prison mother and ronnie misses her every day, the most stable person she's had as a parental figure. this writing is so old... shudder.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ distractions ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 18/04/2020 | character: ayla clarke | cw: self loathing

Okay. Just a little task.

Lexi entrusted me with this little task. I can do it. I don’t want to disappoint her. Oh god, what would she be like if she were disappointed in me? Would she break up with me?


No, focus.

Okay, it’s just a piece of paper. Look at it. It’s taunting you. Who’s better, you, or a dead tree corpse? You’re not lying around simply waiting for a dickhead ready to scribble all over you. Like this piece of paper is about to have done to it. Come on, just do this. The sooner you do it the sooner you can boast about having done it. Come on.

Hey, wasn’t that new theory meant to come out today? It’s been weeks, I’m starving for a new theory. No, that can be a treat.

All this paperwork is just… black and white. Where’s the colour? It’s so boring to look at. No, focus, push through the black and white come on. Stop it. You can do it. It’s one task. One thing.

One… very long thing.

Oh, Christ, look at this thing. This is terrible. Can I just pass this on to someone else? No! Lexi gave me this, clearly she trusts me. Well, she doesn’t know me enough if she thinks I can do this--unless she does and she has faith in me. Does she really have faith in me? A superior has faith in me? Well, she’s my girlfriend, I suppose a part of her has to have faith in me because otherwise she’s committed to a mistake. Aren’t you a mistake? This promotion was a mistake.

No, be happy, that’s your ENTIRE personality now. Come on, snap out of it.

Do your damn work.

Ayla, come on, you used to be decent at your work! Yeah, but you also had strategies back then--what happened to those? Hell, I can’t even remember anymore. Hey, maybe I could just watch that theory now. Why stall when I could simply watch it? Get that over with and then do the paperwork. No.

No.

damn it, why can’t I just have a day of concentration? You’d think the medication could cure you--wait, did I take that today?--but nooooo, you have to commit to strategies too! What kind of CRAP? Okay, stop getting sidetracked damn it.

Stop.

Getting.

Sidetracked.

Just. Do. It. It’s not that hard. Okay? Okay. Pen in hand now, just do it. Where do I even start? How do I start it? Oh, for crying out loud, can’t someone teach me how to do this?

Okay, don’t get angry, calm down. Maybe that ‘birds are created by the government’ theory has new evidence now. Okay, go look at it, then do your work. All in one, super amazing sitting that is going to make sure the superiors never regret promoting you. You’re going to blow them the hell away with your amazing report. Okay? Okay. Work will be done. I will do it. Just after this YouTube video.

I’m not letting Lexi down, damn it.

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word count: 512
a/n: ayla gets distracted a lot. that's all i really gotta say. she doesn't want to let lexi down. wanted to try a bit of first person narration through the whole thing!

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ heartbreak ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 21/05/2020 | character: jessica 'jess' simmons | cw: homophobia

(Oh, great. Junior year. Just what you always wanted.)

Just her first full year of getting ridiculed for her sexuality, that’s all. Breathe Jess, just breathe. That’s okay, at least she proved she was almost capable of making a friend. Too bad that friend abandoned her, but no matter. No matter at all.

Walking through the halls, she kept her head held as high as possible. What did she have to hide? The entire school knew her secrets--thanks to her stupid-ass sister. No need to hide them. The only secret she really could have now was her former friendship with Sydney. Former. That word hurt more than it should have.

“I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”

Words still spun in her head. Despite her pleas, she never received an answer. Sydney was gone and Jess was once again alone--save for the small group of LGBT men she fell into. Another step down the corridor. She wanted to punch a locker.

“What? Why? Syd, what’s wrong?”

“No, I… I just need to go. We can’t see each other anymore.”

“Syd? Really? What the hell's gotten into you? Is this a joke?”

Silence. “Bye, Jess.”

She hated Sydney. She abandoned her just like the rest. Sydney meant nothing to her. Nothing! Why would she? She… she left. It’s not that she still felt a trace of Sydney’s lips dance upon her own. It’s not that she was struggling with the fact that she fell so hard for a straight girl. Not at all.

Oh, who was she kidding?

A loud grunt echoed in the hallway as Jess stomped her way to her locker. Okay, maybe she still felt something for Sydney. What did it matter? Sydney seemed to hate her now. Why else would she leave? So what if she realised after four kisses (really, Jess? It took you FOUR kisses to realise that?) that she wanted to kiss her again but with all the love she could muster with tears dripping down her cheeks because she was overwhelmed with her undeniable feelings. Or maybe take her to her latest street race.

Instead, she simply flung the door open. Stuffing her (quite possibly stolen) books in her locker, Jess looked up to see her walking past. Stupid Sydney with her beautiful blonde hair, her soft brown eyes and… JESUS JESS, GET A GRIP. (She’s a popular girl, it doesn’t matter how badly you want to drag her away from her group and kiss her for a fifth time.)

It doesn’t matter.

So instead, she curled her fists and slammed her locker door shut, walking off. A part of Jess felt that maybe Sydney was staring back at her… but that was probably just a dream.

The first homeroom of the year hadn’t even started yet. But screw junior year. It sucked.

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word count: 471
a/n: my first ever jess drabble actually! she got her heart broken, f in the chat.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ don't shut me out ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 15/11/2019 | characters: emmie wallace & julia taylor | cw: n/a

Emmie perched herself on the edge of her bed. How long she had been in the same position was foreign to her knowledge. Everything just happened to feel… empty. The ghost realm blended so seamlessly with reality today and it just so happened that she resented her ability. By further extension, she really hated herself. So, she skipped school. Her schizophrenia pills scattered the ground. She just wanted to stay still. Quiet. Forgotten. It was easier.

A couple of ghosts had bothered her today. They were gone now. Away to haunt an old lady, she heard them say. Not that she was overly interested at the minute. It was as if somebody deflated her usually bubbly self. Lauren was definitely better off without seeing her. Not like this. Julia, too. She hoped Julia wasn’t worried about her--that was not what she wanted. At least both her dads were out for the day. She could just stay here.

Until she heard a knock at the window.

Emmie turned her head to see Julia knocking at the window, delicately balancing on the ladder she had ‘borrowed’. Moments passed as Emmie worked up the energy to let the slayer inside. Julia collapsed through the window, yanking herself up with tremendous force. Barely taking notice, Emmie slunk into bed.

“Are you alive?” Emmie questioned. She hardly turned her head to face Julia. Julia’s eyes flashed with concern as she sat on the bed.

“I mean, if I were dead I wouldn’t have bothered sneaking through the window.” Julia shrugged the notion off as she swung her body to lie down. “Now, come on, what’s bothering ya?”

Nothing.

“Emmie?” Julia shuffled closer, their bodies barely lying apart. “Emmie, don’t shut me out. Come on, I’m alive, I promise.”

“It’s not that. I… just don’t want to talk right now is all.” Emmie’s knees curled to her stomach as she lay on top of her blankets. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Julia hesitated for a moment. She stared longingly at the girl lying beside her. Mustering in a deep breath, Julia wrapped her arm around Emmie, pulling her closer as a sign of protection. Hearts began to flutter as Emmie slowly shuffled herself so that her head rested against Julia’s chest, wrapping her arms around Julia’s and squeezing. Maybe they’d attempt school again tomorrow. It’s not like it was going to be destroyed today.

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word count: 397
a/n: my drabble for emmie/julia while they were still a couple! i cant believe these two are over a year old now.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ snowball fight ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 15/12/2020 | character: nancy rivera | cw: n/a

“God, I hate the snow.”

Nancy’s grumble was accompanied by the fresh mist steaming from her mouth. The cold weather nipped at the skin, but the majority did not seem to care. The only one to care was Nancy herself.

The boarding school was a rather bleak picture at Christmas. On the exterior, the snow coated the land. It was a peace that was rather uncommon when coping with the realities of wartime. While the younger students found themselves caught up in the magic of the holidays, the older students mourned the male members of their family who would never again sit around the table.

Nancy, Rose and Florence were not usually taken aback by the holiday mourning. While they appreciated their losses--Nancy’s father had been lost to the horrors of war--and mourned along with others, they did not bother to let it dampen their spirits. So, every year, they found themselves sneaking off campus for their own celebration. They had enough to worry about--having to conform to the expectations of the boarding school wasn’t about to be one of them. Especially not on a holiday.

“Oh, c’mon,” Rose called over, holding in her snicker. “It’s just water.”

“I’ll have you know-” Nancy started, disgust laced in her voice before she was interrupted. In the time it took Nancy to get over her shock and respond, Rose had decided her best course of action was to make a snowball and chuck it in her direction. “Oh, that’s it!”

“Can we please not do this?” Florence asked, borderline begging her secret girlfriends. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Nancy squatted down, gathering a large amount of snow in her hands. While she did this, Rose scooped up her own snow and lifted it, snowflakes fluttering to the ground as she let go of the mass, dumping it on Nancy’s head.

“I like your hair like that, Nancy,” Rose commented with a laugh, peering down to inspect her damage.

“I’m taking your soap back,” Nancy grumbled. Forming the snowball, she threw it up, socking Rose in the face. Rose stumbled back, wiping the snow from her face and shaking her hands.

As the two prepared to go to war, they were both met with a snowball each at the back of the head. The two spun around to find Florence, brandishing the third snowball in case either decided to speak up out of turn.

“Now, I thought we were going to come out here and make snowmen.”

From their first year at the boarding school, they always found themselves making a snow family. Also every year, Florence found herself having to break up some sort of row between her lovers. At least she could depend on Nancy and Rose to never act differently.

Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but a glance between Florence and the snowball slowly being tossed up and down in her hand quickly shut her up. Rose glanced between her girlfriends and the snowball and only mustered out a small “Okay.”

At least someone was able to keep order around this time of year.


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word count: 517
a/n: smth to get me into the christmas spirit with the polyamorous trio at boarding school! ultimately they do not work out but they are absolutely adorable to me.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ christmas time ! ❞
╱ ╯written: 21/12/2020 | character: veronica 'ronnie' garcia | cw: n/a

Christmas was a great time of year. Ronnie never got to experience the holiday in her own way until prison. The prison was a bleak place--but everything felt the tiniest bit more magical when surrounded with the spirit fo the holiday. At least to Ronnie. Maybe that’s why others considered her a tad childish. She just viewed it as optimism.

Optimism it was. Every year she found herself in her own little world. No decorations scattered the prison, but the simple idea of the date brought a smile to Ronnie’s lips. She tried to make presents for people--well, all she did was paint a picture on a scrap piece of paper. Thank you to contraband magazines--the scraped off ink made for some surprising quality paint.

Christmas became more magical when Ronnie was released.

Finally, she had some sort of freedom. So, she used that freedom to celebrate the holidays. Having moved away from her mother, she had the freedom to decorate how she wished. So, the apartment was flooded with cheap Christmas decorations (thanks to her income being stretched as it was) and festive music. As well as jingle bells for the cat collars--those were essential to Ronnie.

Being alone was foreign to Ronnie. Every moment of her life was observed by someone else. So, to spend Christmas alone was a godsend. While others may have found the loneliness of the holidays to be depressing, Ronnie relished in spending the day playing Christmas movies and painting. The gift of privacy. But, the holidays were meant to be spent with others. So, the Christmas did not feel as special. At least in prison, she spent the day like any other. With the only two people who seemed to care about her.

Things would be different once Winnie was released. Well… kind of.

Her wife was not as in love with the Christmas spirit. Ronnie knew Winnie wasn’t the most festive. From prison to the free world, Winnie wasn’t one for embracing the Christmas spirit. She couldn’t fault that. Life did not give either one many favours. Winnie had just become hardened to the world. Ronnie’s spirits weren’t dampened, just enhanced. She had to celebrate harder for the both of them.

So, their apartment became littered with Christmas cheer. With Winnie’s permission, Dexter sported a little Santa hat. The ringing of jingle bells from Cotton roaming the apartment filled the air. Playing in the background, a popular Christmas film aired on daytime television as the couple exchanged presents. The three cat plushes sat on Ronnie’s lap, almost devoured by her baggy hoodie--each bearing an uncanny resemblance to Ronnie’s own three animals. Possibly the best present she had ever received. Even better that it came from her favourite person in the world.

Ronnie’s signature present was painting. Combining a special interest with a unique gift was a part of Ronnie’s newfound tradition. Anybody she found herself fond of received a painting on Christmas Day. So, Ronnie reached behind the couch and placed the canvas in Winnie’s lap, watching as her wife ripped open the wrapping paper.

What greeted Winnie was a painting of Dexter. Painted in a realistic style, complete with actual paint as opposed to the ink of the past. Finally feeling more comfortable with Winnie’s pitbull, Ronnie was able to successfully sneak a picture to copy. Though, the silence started to worry Ronnie slightly.
“Is it okay?” she questioned, eyes glazed in worry.

“It’s fantastic, babe,” Winnie replied, and Ronnie’s shoulders fell in relief.

“Really? Because I really thought I messed up this one paint stroke and--”

“Hey, hey, hey, Ronnie, you think I’d notice that?” Winnie asked, a playful smirk (which Ronnie determined after a moment of studying her face) dancing on her face. Ronnie glanced away sheepishly.

“I guess not,” she murmured, her own smile tugging on her face. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it. Do you wanna tell me how you made it?”

Ronnie’s eyes brightened with the most energy she had experienced all day. “Really?”

Winnie nodded, settling on the couch. Getting to talk about her special interest for hours on end? Yeah, this really was the perfect Christmas.

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word count: 694
a/n: sort of a companion drabble to my girlfriend's drabble based around Christmas! this is from ronnie's perspective. i love this girl so so much.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ monopoly ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 01/01/2021 | character: kelsey maynard | cw: parental fighting implied.


The only yelling Kelsey wanted to hear that night was from her brothers.

So they sat in Kelsey’s room. She barricaded the door the moment she heard her parents start to rumble, so now they needed to pass the time. Luckily, Christmas usually brought board games which Kelsey stuffed in her room. Forcing herself to wade through the amount of clothes scattering the floor, she slammed the game of Monopoly on her bed.

Hours later, they were still playing.

“Pay up!” Jake demanded, reaching his hand over the board and beckoning his fingers. Kelsey groaned as she looked through the few paper notes she had left, giving him the money.

“Call me names again and you’re going through the window.”

“You’ll have to take Noah too.”

“I’m not afraid to take both of you on. You’re tiny.” Kelsey let out a snort, squeezing her fingers together. The arm warmer slipped further down her arm.

The benefits of having pre-teen younger brothers was that in a fight, Kelsey could win. Many nights were spent on Jake and Noah trying to take Kelsey off her feet, their yells of enjoyment drowning out the parents.

“Can we just continue the game?” Noah piped up after noticing the intensity in the fiery glare of his siblings. His shy voice cooled the feisty spirit ignited in Kelsey and she sat back down.

“Sure,” Kelsey murmured. She couldn’t help but pick up on the anxiety riddled in his tone. She hadn’t even noticed that the yelling outside had grown louder. “C’mon, Noah, roll the dice.”

This is how they spent most nights. Kelsey knew she couldn’t let her brothers suffer. So instead, pin them against each other in a game based on capitalism.

It was better than the screaming outside.

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word count: 294
a/n: kelsey came from a broken home and assumed the responsibility of distracting her brothers. just something quick to break in the new year!

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ realisations ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 02/05/2021 | character: nancy rivera | cw: homophobia


Nancy was no saint. She was known for arguing with teachers. Her hands were littered with scars from caning. She knew a lot of things about herself, both good and bad. What she didn’t know was her heart.

From a young age, she heard talk of potential husbands. She had spent many nights sitting at the dinner table while her young friends were invited around in the hopes of introducing them early. So it could bloom into potential romance, no doubt. When World War Two was started, the pressure of marrying eased. Until she was asked by her mother to write letters to the soldiers overseas in the hopes that one would return with a ring. In the hopes that Nancy would find love, happiness, and above all else: riches. Nancy hardly entertained the letters outside of giving a half-assed reply.

Coming home for the summer was like being ripped from paradise. Every day Nancy spent there, she was ridiculed by her mother. “No running,” her mother would call from the other side of the corridor. With halls decorated with expensive paintings, any kind of horseplay was forbidden. Yet, Nancy found herself caring less and less with every summer. Every year, boarding school was like a weight lifted off her chest. The corsets she was forced into could come free. No boys she had to impress. She just got to spend the year being carefree with her two best friends in boarding school.

Well… her only friends.

Nancy was a social butterfly. For the last five years, she was a ladylike figure. The perfect example of a student--if she didn’t mouth off to the teachers at every opportunity. The way she carried herself was something to be desired. At least, when she was in public. When only in the company of Rose and Florence, her best friends, the story was rewritten. While not entirely abandoning her act, she let her hair loose. She couldn’t ask for better people to accompany her during her school years. It got rather lonely otherwise. During the summer, she was regulated strictly to letters. Communication that solely came from paper and ink was not as satisfying. She wished she had their company this year especially.

This year had not been kind to Nancy. She had fallen for Betty’s tricks. There had been rumours from the first year that Rose, Florence and Nancy were all lesbians, and while this was true, they had successfully kept it to only rumours for years. Until Nancy was baited into kissing Betty in the spur of the moment. Then she had been outed to the entire year. She lived the rest of her year in misery. Taunts every day, which even extended into the classroom. The first time that happened, Nancy had even walked out. Her hands still bore those scars. The only people who had been there for her were Rose and Florence.

Rose and Nancy fought like cats and dogs. Yet they were inseparable. Rose had defended Nancy from the start--even if some days, the pair couldn’t stand one another.

Florence and Nancy, however, were calmer. Florence usually did not have much to say, but she was the best listener a friend could ask for.

Yet, the idea of being friends with one of them felt increasingly strange. Just before the summer holidays began, they had spent one day at the beach. Nancy still recalled the waves rolling into the shore, the sand beneath her feet as Rose ran ahead and Florence trailed behind. She could still recall how annoyed she had been when her dress had become soaked by the waves as they accidentally strayed too close to the ocean. The argument she had with Rose upon their return.
-----------------------------------------------
“Look at my dress!” Nancy called, voice laced in annoyance. She stood in front of the long mirror, spinning around to examine the damage. “Rosie, just look at this! This was my best dress, now it’s been positively ruined! I hope you’re happy!”

Rose halted, spinning around to face Nancy. “I didn’t ruin anything,” she said. “You chose to wear it down there! I didn’t force you in that dress.”

Florence sighed. Usually, she was a peacekeeper in these situations, but right now, she felt it was maybe best to let the lions finish their battle. “I’m going to check on Ruth,” she explained to deaf ears as her exit was hardly acknowledged.

“Oh, my mother is going to kill me. All I have are dresses! What did you expect, for me to go to the beach in my undergarments and corset?” Nancy whipped around to face Rose. They stood on opposite ends of the dorm room.

“Yeah, all you have are dresses!” Rose was getting riled as her voice raised. “You know why that is, Nancy?”

Nancy crossed her arms. “Humour me, Rosie.”

Rose grunted in annoyance. “Because you’re a stuck-up, spoilt prick.” She grinned at the gasp Nancy let out.

“Better to be stuck-up than such a foul-mouthed, blustering fool.”

It was Rose’s turn to take offence. Then, she let out another grunt which evolved into a yell. “Oh, just shut up you posh London idiot!”

Nancy raised an eyebrow as her torso twisted slightly from side to side, arms still crossed. “Oooooh,” she taunted with a snarky tone, “you want to kiss me so bad.” Nancy was surprised to see Rose’s eyes flash with some sort of emotion. She couldn’t place it, but it didn’t seem like anger. Well--not completely.

She didn’t even process Rose approaching her from one end of the dorm. Rose rushed towards Nancy, cusping Nancy’s face in her hands as their lips crashed together like the ocean they had previously visited. Nancy’s eyes widened as she sank into the kiss. This wasn’t the turn of events she was expecting.

Apparently, Florence didn’t expect it either. Jaw agape, Rose and Nancy both noticed the other’s return at the same time. Florence was the first to pipe up as Rose broke out of the kiss and straightened her back. “Well… I can’t say I expected this. I thought you’d have been tearing one another’s throats out, not kissing.”

Rose cackled as she turned to Florence fully. Nancy stumbled back a couple of steps, eyes still wide. “I was just calling her stupid bluff,” Rose scoffed. “You’re still a posh London idiot, Nancy.”

Nancy snapped out of her trance and furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re just lucky I’m too much of a lady to fight you physically.”

-----------------------------------------------

She regarded that argument every night as she lulled to sleep. How Rose’s eyes had changed. How quickly she was to move in and kiss her when the invitation was given. In Rose’s eyes… had she seen longing? Nancy couldn’t help but hope so. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of how soft Rose had been with her lips. Her cheeks flushed as her mind replayed the moments time and time again. Her hand cupped the cheeks that Rose had held so dearly. A small smile danced along her lips.

She couldn’t quite place the feeling fully, but thinking of the kiss itself made her smile. She could kiss Rose again if they needed. And again… and again. Why did she feel this way? When she used to think of Rose, it would be a similar kinship. They related to one another, even if they constantly bickered. Now, she felt shy. Was she still shaken up after their argument? Or--

Oh… oh.

Nancy sat up in her bed, one hand gripping the silky sheets as the other grazed against her lips. I think I’m in love with Rose, she thought, a shudder overtaking her body. Even admitting that in her head scared her half to death.

She lay back down and smothered her face with her hands. How much worse could things get? Rose was one of her best friends. Yes, they all had this shared secret and were out to one another (and Nancy to the whole school)--but Nancy doubted Rose would even feel the same? And poor Florence, her dear Nightingale, what if the two of them being together pushed her out?

She couldn’t help but think about Florence too. How gentle she was, even when Rose and Nancy were at their worst. How she would silently support her friends in the classroom with the tiniest snickers. How her presence could calm a bull down. Nancy paused for a moment. She couldn’t live without Florence. Not without her generosity and understanding. Slowly, her mind began to play out a scenario. One where she sat with Florence on the bed. They were laughing, Nancy telling a story from her childhood while Florence shared something similar. How their bodies would shuffle closer and closer and eventually they leaned in…

Oh… oh.

She sat up once again. Florence, too? Was that even possible? Nancy dragged her hands across her face and stared at the wardrobe facing her bed. Having a crush on a girl was unheard of as it was. She was already treated as an outcast from their year. She was well aware of how dirty her attraction was. But… it felt right. Having a crush on both of her best friends felt… right. It felt like everything would be right in the world if all three could disappear. They could all live together, free of judgement, free to love each other. How could that be dirty? But to have a crush on two? Nancy couldn’t deny it.

She wanted to be with Rose. She wanted to have a petty squabble in good fun and kiss afterwards. She wanted to go back down to the beach, in appropriate attire this time, hand in hand. She wanted Rose to kiss her on the forehead as Nancy tended to the letters she loathed so much.

She wanted to be with Florence. She wanted to help Florence feel more comfortable talking to others. She wanted to just have conversations with life as they stared up at the ceiling or the stars. She wanted to hear about everything in Florence’s life and fall asleep listening to sweet nothings. She wanted it all, she wanted it with both of them.

Damn it, she just wanted to be happy.

Nancy knew her heart now. The problem was, her heart was going to get her into trouble.


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word count: 1,722
a/n: it has been a very long time since i wrote something that i either cannot post or is warrior cats related, but i'm glad to be back! hopefully going to be writing more for my ocs going forward.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ a new start ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 02/06/2021 | character: nancy rivera | cw: alcohol mentions ; mild homophobia

Nancy nursed her drink. She sat at the side of the pub, slumped on the high stool. It was an unbecoming position to be seen in if she cared about her appearance. With her fancy pink sweater and long skirt, she stuck out like a sore thumb among the working class. However, she had more to worry about. She missed her home. She missed her brother, Charles, even if they bickered more than they got along. She missed her mother, despite the distant relationship the two shared. Yet when she thought back to that night, her stomach sank. They didn’t want her. You’d think in twenty-eight years, she’d have been able to keep one engagement going. Apparently, that was something she was incapable of. So, she sank herself into her drink.
               In the middle of her sip, she almost spluttered when she noticed who was settling next to her. She was no longer the only fancy-appearing person in the bar. Sitting next to her was her ex-fiance, Raymond. He looked like a wreck. His usually styled hair was now dishevelled. His beard had grown out considerably. He looked… tired. Nancy felt a similar sinking feeling in her heart. If she had just stayed with him. If I had just swallowed my pride and happiness, Nancy thought, none of this would have happened. She sat her drink back down on the bar table. The amount of pain she must have caused him--and she couldn’t make it go away.
               She couldn’t even make her own go away.
               She straightened her back and her hand hovered over his back. After a moment of deliberation, she patted it to grab his attention. Raymond shot up in surprise and shot a stare straight at Nancy. Even his eyes had lost the love they once glistened with.
               “Nancy?” His voice was coated in disbelief. “That you?” Nancy froze, wide-eyed.
               “Y--Yes,” she choked out. “I believe it is me.”
               Raymond let out a disgruntled sigh. His head turned back towards the table. “I was hoping I could do this alone.”
               “Likewise.”
               An awkward silence fell upon them. Nancy traced the rim of her half-empty glass. “I barely recognised you,” she said, her voice barely raised above a whisper.
               “Well, I wouldn’t expect you to,” he muttered as the bartender poured him a beer. “How long has it been now? One… two months?”
               “Three,” Nancy replied breathlessly. Her glance fell away from him. “It’s been three months.”
               He grunted in response, indulging himself in the beer. The bustling of the crowds behind them couldn’t disguise the guilt that tore in Nancy’s body. He had shown nothing but devotion to her. All those mornings spent by his side, all the times he made her breakfast in bed, all the times he made her laugh when she felt low. Yet she had never told him why. The amount she had sacrificed to be with a man her heart rejected. She had spent so much time trying to force herself to kiss him first. She wanted to show him the slightest amount of affection, she wanted nothing more than to become the wife a man desired. She wore her corsets, she held herself in high regard and carried herself with such poise. Her guilt bubbled into anger. Who was he to grunt? He didn’t lose the two loves of his life for an engagement that didn’t work out. He lost one woman he barely knew for a year! Just as Nancy opened her mouth to object, Raymond started to speak.
               “That so?” He gulped down his beer, banging his glass against the table with one hand. “Didn’t think you’d pay it much thought.”
               Nancy brustled her body as she sat up straight. Her arms rested on the table. “And just what is that meant to mean?” she asked, a bitter tone sliding from her tongue.
               “You were the one who broke it off,” Raymond replied. He gestured for the bartender to come and pour him another drink. “Didn’t think you’d care at all.”
               “Of course I care!” Offence was trickling in her words. “Why would I not care?”
               “You broke it off,” he repeated nonchalantly.
               “That doesn’t mean I don’t care!” Was that what he thought of her? “Of course I care! I’ve always cared.”
               “Well, you could’ve fooled me.” He sipped his drink. Nancy squirmed in her seat and looked away.
               “I gave up a lot to make our engagement work,” she replied matter-of-factly, glancing to the other side of the room and taking a drink. “You don’t realise that.”
               “And I didn’t?”
               “You don’t understand!”
               “Well, you never gave me the chance to, Nancy.”
               The argument came to a standstill for a few fleeting moments. Nancy gritted her teeth. Everything she had sacrificed came flooding back, threatening to sweep her away. “You wouldn’t understand. That’s the problem.”
               “I heard you were kicked out,” said Raymond. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Best news I had heard all day. But I couldn’t shake off my curiosity, could I? Why? I heard it was because you fancied women, but I never took you as a lesbian.”
               Nancy’s heart stopped. Yet there was no use denying the truth, was there? The news seemed to have travelled through the grapevine. “Well, you’d be mistaken in your assumption, darling.” She gave out a half-hearted chuckle. “That’s why I couldn’t go through with it.” Any anger she felt simmered down.
               “It’s true?”
               “No use in hiding it now.” Nancy stared up at the ceiling before turning her attention towards him. Raymond’s figure bounced from his laughter.
               “No wonder you didn’t kiss me first!” His laughter caught the attention of a few drunk men sitting nearby, but they soon fell into eruptive laughter of their own. Raymond’s hand slapped against his face, resting over his eyes as he sat back. “That’s just brilliant, on top of getting dumped, I’m officially blind, too.”
               “It’s not as if I paraded it about,” Nancy spat in a fit of defence. “You don’t know what I gave up to make this work!”
               “And you don’t know what I lost when you quit!” Raymond’s laughter stopped.
               “What you lost? I lost two people I loved more than life itself just to give our engagement a chance!” Not one to out her friends, Nancy left it at that, but her face contorted into anger. “Don’t try to talk to me about loss like that.”
               Raymond’s face remained neutral. Nancy almost wished it would contort into fury and cause a scene in the pub. Instead, he just stared at her. She looked away uncomfortably as his gaze was unwavering. Yet she found herself taken aback by the sound of sobbing.
               “I loved you, Nancy,” Raymond cried. His head fell into his hands as the bartender silently poured another drink as an offer of comfort. “I loved you more than life itself.” Nancy’s heart stung at the wording. How could he have loved me as much as I loved Rosie and Nightingale?
               They sat in uncomfortable silence. “It’s not your fault,” said Nancy. “I’m not.. able to love you. Not in the way you need.” Raymond was a good man. He was a great fiance. She remembered how he would spend every night reminding her that she was loved. All the small amounts of love, the words of affection day in and day out. She wanted nothing more than to have lived a happy life with him. Yet when she looked at him, she found herself a best friend, not a husband. She saw herself by his side as a chum, as somebody who she could depend on when the times got tough--but not somebody she could kiss goodnight before having dreams filled with him.
               “Why?”
               “It’s just the way I am, darling,” Nancy replied. She couldn’t shake off the guilt. It’s not like she hadn’t tried--she spent months trying to convince her heart that Raymond was the man of her dreams. Yet when she slept at night, she couldn’t help yearning for Rose’s rough hands cupping her cheek or Florence’s soft voice coaxing her awake. She couldn’t swallow the bitter disappointment of waking up curled in his arms. Even now, her stomach grew heavy with the memories. “I really tried.”
Raymond’s gaze softened to grief. “Why couldn’t you love me?”
               Nancy’s eyes matched his own. “I wish I knew.” Her hand raised and hovered briefly above his back. Silently, she patted his back as she noticed the tears streaming down his face stream faster. “But it just means I wasn’t the one for you, darling.” A melancholic smile tugged on her face. “But there’s bound to be a lady out there who’s going to be as crazy about you. I’m just not that one.”
               “You think so?” The disbelieving tone tugged at Nancy’s heart.
               “I know so. You’re a great guy, you made me feel like a princess even on my lowest days.” She retracted her hand and pushed his full glass of beer closer to him. “You’d make your wife feel like a queen, I’m sure of it. If I… felt that way about men, you’d be the one for me. But I cannot be that woman for you.”
               Raymond indulged himself in his beer once more. His face seemed to relax now. Happier. Like the man she had been engaged to just three months prior. “Maybe I will.”
               Nancy chuckled as she glanced at the last of her own drink. “To a new start,” she announced, grasping her glass and raising it. Raymond stared at her for a moment before returning her chuckles and raising his glass. A clink was drowned out by the bustling of the pub-goers behind them.
               “To a new start.”

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word count: 1,621
a/n: nancy brainrot ahoy! she is a near and dear oc to me now and has a lot of aspects to her story. she has been through many failed engagements and so i figured i should write her meeting one of her exes. this takes place three months after outed.

[fali.]

╱ ╯- ❝ best thing ! ❞
╱ ╯- written: 13/06/2021 | character: nancy rivera | cw: implied homophobia

Nancy was always hesitant to answer when asked what the best thing in her life was.
               It wasn’t her fault. Nancy knew what it was and if the world’s climate was more accepting, she would exclaim it to everybody willing to listen. Yet, those who were willing to lend their ears were sparse. So, if somebody were to ask her, she’d smile and awkwardly avoid the question.
               Her ‘best thing’ was always taboo in the eyes of the majority. As a child, Nancy would have told you that nothing in her life was ‘best’. While she lived in the best house, with the best care, with the best nanny--Nancy had no experience in life. What could she label the ‘best’ when she experienced nothing less than perfection? Then she went to boarding school--and she discovered what the best could be for her age. Rose and Florence were her best--and only--friends. In an environment built to push her desires down, Rose and Florence raised her up. They were the best things in her life, yet if she were to admit she wanted to spend her life with them she would be shot down. Those fleeting moments spent in peace in secret areas of the boarding school were the best things in her life. Taking in the love Rose and Florence gave was the best thing in Nancy’s life. Rose and Florence were the best things in Nancy’s life. Yet the best things in her life were taken away from her in one horrendous night. Nancy thought she would never have a ‘best thing’ again, so when asked she shrugged and sighed. Then she met one woman.
               Now, the best thing in Nancy’s life came in the form of the body who slept next to her each morning. The best thing in her life was the woman who woke every morning with a tired smile and a new determination for the day. But to the rest of the world, the love they shared was a curse. Whether they thought it was a mental illness or a rejection for the role of a woman, it was unacceptable. Nancy always wondered something. How did something that was so wrong feel so right? Why did it feel so right to interlock her fingers with Catherine’s, to share secret kisses under the bath of the moonlight, to tangle her fingers through Catherine’s hair during a lazy Sunday morning? If she was wrong for having those feelings, she did not want to be right.
               To have a ‘best thing’ was to have a treasure in your hands. You couldn’t drop it, you couldn’t break it, you couldn’t ruin it. Nancy, however, had done that before. Kissing a married woman was not a smart idea, especially not when it made her temporarily lose her treasure. Her heart had been torn out that night as she scraped enough to rent a motel room. Yet her treasure (her buttercup--her wonderful buttercup) had the biggest heart of them all and let her back. Catherine was everything society tried to stomp out of a woman. Caring, intelligent, relentlessly determined, creative, honest--it left Nancy jaw-dropped every time. How she was allowed back into the household she would never know. She was glad she was. Catherine was the best thing Nancy had, and she was not going to let her go again. Even if they just remained friends.
               Yet remaining friends pained Nancy beyond repair. Her heart ached when she saw the fleeting touches between Catherine and her husband, Alfie. When Nancy looked into Catherine’s eyes, she saw heaven. When Catherine danced in the kitchen with the radio turned up, the angels danced with her. Alfie never seemed to recognise that. So to hear that Catherine and Alfie were divorcing came as a massive relief. Catherine deserved somebody who appreciated her. Nancy knew she could be that person, even from a platonic standpoint. There was so much to admire, it astounded Nancy that nobody else brought it up. How Catherine was a natural-born writer and could lull anybody to sleep with her tales. How she was swift with her work and swift to handle Diana if she acted up. How she embraced Nancy’s inexperience with the working-class life and helped her adjust without a second thought. Nancy wanted nothing more than to be the reason Catherine was content with life. Her partner to come home to, her second pair of ears, her home.
               How could that be wrong?
               Which is why she could remember so clearly the waves of joy that crashed over her when Catherine returned her feelings. The world made sense that day. Outdoors seemed just a little brighter. Everybody seemed to smile back. Their fleeting looks morphed into fleeting kisses. Diana was supportive too--Alfie far, far less so, but Nancy couldn’t recall a time where she regarded his opinion. But they could not proclaim their love to the world. Their love was a crime. It shone too bright for many to accept, so they dulled it. Nancy was to remain officially as a house guest or a close friend. They were not ready to accept the fact that two women could care so deeply for one another. That perhaps your perfect match could be found in the same gender. Their relationship was the sun in a world where they longed for the night. They would never understand how Nancy could feel so at home in Catherine’s arms. How wonderful Catherine’s stories could make her feel. How relaxed Nancy could feel as they sat listening to the radio, free of the expectations that threatened to choke her for years.
               So their love remained a secret. But the love they shared did not need to be exclaimed to the world. Not when Catherine was Nancy’s world. The world did not deserve to share in a relationship they could not understand. So, when Nancy was asked what the best thing in her life was, she’d hesitate, give out a secretive chuckle and answer “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

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word count: 1,004
a/n: never off my nancy brainrot, this one relates back to nancy's relationship to catherine, her unofficial wife!