Original Fiction: Princess Normal (Working Title) Chapter 4a
Name: Princess Normal (working title because I know it's kinda sucky).
Rating: R
Genre: Romance/Drama
Warnings: Femslash
Summary: ‘“Do you need anything?” Nicole looked up, locking her eyes with her best friend’s. She knew what she was asking; did they have food? Could she afford food?”
Author’s Note: So here’s the thing, this is the first time I’ve posted original fiction on here. I have a fictionpress account on which I’ve posted a femslash fic before, but that’s one of my worse ones (please don't go and look at it *lol*) and this, in my opinion, is starting off rather well. Also, though, I’m not as motivated to write original fiction than fanfic because less people read and comment. So if you comment positively you’ll get more because that’s how I work. Comments feed the plot bunnies, lack of comments and the bunnies starve. Okay? Hope you enjoy the first chapter! I just couldn't stop writing last night so, yeah, here ya go!
Chapter Quote/Summary: '"Should I be jealous?"
Previous chapters are at my Original Fiction Master List
Chapter Four - Part A
"Do you like musicals?"
“You’re early,” Nicole said, a small pout on her lips, as she opened the door to reveal Jazzy stood there. “I was planning to run away before you arrived.”
Jazzy glared at her and held up three bags. “I come bearing clothes.”
“Oh dear.”
She shooed her in, stepping over the threshold. “Move, move, move,” she said. “Go upstairs and look at the clothes. I’ll be up in a moment.”
“Why? Why not now?”
“I want to say hello to your lovely daughter, that’s why!”
Nicole raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she took the bags and headed upstairs. She walked into her bedroom and pulled off her sweatshirt, leaving her bra and undershirt on, opened the bags and poured the contents onto the bed then sat on the end, picking at bits of fluff on her jeans.
She looked across, suspiciously, at a lilac coloured top and poked it, trying to decide whether to have a closer look or not.
“Don't poke the clothes, Nick,” Jazzy scolded, walking in. “See anything you like?”
“Really don't.”
Jazzy sighed. “Look, I want you to find something sexy. How about this?” She picked up the lilac top and grabbed Nicole’s arm, pulling her to her feet and holding it up against her chest. “You’d look gorgeous in this.”
Nicole snorted. “It’d show my belly,” she said.
“You have a nice belly.”
“How would you know?”
“Well ... I don't, but I’m sure you do!”
“I have stretch marks. I had a baby, remember?”
“Nick, I’m sure you’ll look fine. Try it on.” She thrust the top into Nicole’s hands.
“You’re stood here.”
“Shy now, are we? You never were in high school Miss-Never-Wears-A-Bra.”
“I told you. Stretch marks.”
“Well, I’m going to see the stretch marks anyway.”
“At least turn around!”
Jazzy muttered something about nothing she hadn’t seen before and did so, but not before picking a matching pair of lilac trousers up off the bed and tossing them at Nicole. “Both.”
Nicole sighed and pulled off her jeans and shirt, pulling the trousers on. “Jazzy, these don't even reach my waist!”
“That’s the idea,” Jazzy retorted.
Nicole groaned and put the top on, standing in front of the full length mirror. “Alright, you can turn around.”
“You look gorgeous!” Jazzy gushed, seeing her friend all dressed up. “We just need to do something with your hair and ...”
“I’m not wearing this,” Nicole yelped. “It shows my belly, and stretch marks, and practically shows the underside of my boobs.”
Jazzy walked across and stared at her stomach until Nicole started to blush. “Nick, I can see one tiny, tiny little stretch mark. You barely even showed when you were pregnant! Ash was a tiny baby!”
“Don't you have anything less revealing?” Nicole asked.
“Yes, but I’m not letting you wear those.” She paused and stared at her belly again. “Do you still have a piercing?”
“I’m not putting my belly button ring in!” Nicole squeaked.
“Oh, you should! You have it pierced so wear it!”
“I was fifteen and I wore it for two years. The hole’s probably closed up.” Jazzy raised an eyebrow. “It hurts?” Jazzy put her hands on her hips. “I lost my belly bar?” Jazzy grabbed a little trinket from the dresser behind her and held it up: her belly bar. “Jazzy, don't make me.”
Jazzy smirked. “Go on. Live a little.”
Nicole sighed and took the belly bar off her friend. “I don't want to wear this.”
“For once, do as you’re told.”
“If I’d done what I was told I wouldn't have Ashley now.”
“True.” Jazzy reached out and pulled Nicole’s hair over her face. “I notice you cut your hair.” She tilted her head. “Is it me or is it longer on the right side?”
Nicole glared at her and moved her hair again. “Are you going to attack my hair with scissors next?”
“No, it seems you already did that.” She pointed at the chair by the dressing table. “Sit.”
Nicole whimpered. “Do I have to?”
Smirking, her friend replied, “Yep. Sit. I’m going to do your hair for you.”
“I don't want to go out tonight. Please don't make me.”
“I’m dragging you out and you’re going to enjoy it.” She grabbed Nicole, who had put the belly bar in, and pushed her onto the seat then reached for her hair brush, running it through her hair.
“I won’t.”
“You will, I promise. And if you don't, we’ll get you so drunk you don't remember tomorrow.”
“Brilliant,” Nicole said, sarcastically. “Leave me alone already.”
Jazzy snorted. “You know me better than that.”
“Don't remind me.”
*
It was relatively late when Spencer turned up to babysit Ashley, and as Nicole ascended the stairs she heard Jazzy opening the door and laying into the poor man for being late. Ignoring the rampant swearing coming from her best friend’s mouth, Nicole pushed open her daughter’s bedroom door and stepped inside to find Ashley lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Spencer’s here, so I’m going out with Jazzy, okay?”
“About time too!” Ashley said, vehemently.
Nicole raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more as she bent over and kissed Ashley on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, Ash,” she whispered. She straightened up and stroked the dream catcher hanging above the bed. “Look after my girl’s dreams.” She turned around and left the room, heading back down the stairs and into the living room, where Spencer and Jazzy were stood, back to back, glaring angrily at the walls, arms crossed across their chests. They looked like a comedy act.
“What happened?”
“She yelled at me!”
“He was late!”
“I was with Emily!”
“Think with your brain for once not with your-”
“Jasmine!” Nicole scolded. “Spencer babysits for me as a courtesy. He isn’t obliged to come here, alright? It’s not like he’s her dad. If he’s late that’s fine.” She turned to smile at him and noticed, for the first time, that he was staring, mouth hanging open, at her. “What?” she asked.
“You’re gorgeous!” he exclaimed.
“You don't have to sound so bloody shocked,” Jazzy scolded.
“Hey, I’m not shocked. I remember how she looked in high school but ... since ...” He refocused on her. “You stopped dressing to look good, but with your hair like that and everything you’re just ... wow.”
“I’ll take your lack of coherency as a compliment,” Nicole said, with a smirk.
Spencer chuckled. “I’m going to go set my blanket up on the sofa,” he said, wandering off into the lounge.
Nicole rounded on Jazzy. “And as for you...!”
“What did I do?” Jazzy asked, innocently.
“I just told Ashley I’m going out tonight,” Nicole said, hands on hips.
“And?”
“She said ‘about time too’.”
“Good for her.” Jazzy avoided eye contact, picking lint off her sleeve.
“Jazzy, did you, by any chance, bribe my daughter to say that?”
“How could you accuse me of a thing like that?” Jazzy gasped.
“Because I saw a five pound note beneath her pillow and I know she wouldn't say a thing like that!”
Jazzy had the good grace to blush. “Alright, so I did. So sue me! I wanted her to encourage you not give you an excuse to stay home.”
Nicole glared at her. “Fine,” she said. “I forgive you. This time.” She patted her hair. Jazzy had somehow managed to make it wavy, then pinned it up so that small strands hung down around her ears and eyes, but it was in a delicate twist. Her fringe, Jazzy had complained, was completely unmanageable, and she had merely pinned a bit of it up so that it was a half-fringe, complaining the whole time about home-cutting and taking her to a proper hairdresser next time.
Jazzy looped her arm through Nicole’s and herded her towards the door, their high heels clacking noisily against the floor. Nicole was wearing purple heels that threatened to trip her at any moment, Jazzy was wearing black three-inch heels that she somehow managed to stay upright in. They matched her gorgeous outfit of flared black trousers and a low-cut top exposing her own belly, a belt slung around her waist. The top was sparkly with glitter and had flared sleeves at the end. Put together with her light brown hair falling loosely around her shoulders and across one eye, straight as an arrow, she looked stunning.
“I’m dragging you out of that door before you manage to weasel out of this,” she said, with a grin. “Come on. My car’s waiting.”
Nicole whined, “Do I have to?”
Jazzy’s answering glare told her all she needed to know.
Next: Chapter 4b
Rating: R
Genre: Romance/Drama
Warnings: Femslash
Summary: ‘“Do you need anything?” Nicole looked up, locking her eyes with her best friend’s. She knew what she was asking; did they have food? Could she afford food?”
Author’s Note: So here’s the thing, this is the first time I’ve posted original fiction on here. I have a fictionpress account on which I’ve posted a femslash fic before, but that’s one of my worse ones (please don't go and look at it *lol*) and this, in my opinion, is starting off rather well. Also, though, I’m not as motivated to write original fiction than fanfic because less people read and comment. So if you comment positively you’ll get more because that’s how I work. Comments feed the plot bunnies, lack of comments and the bunnies starve. Okay? Hope you enjoy the first chapter! I just couldn't stop writing last night so, yeah, here ya go!
Chapter Quote/Summary: '"Should I be jealous?"
Previous chapters are at my Original Fiction Master List
Chapter Four - Part A
"Do you like musicals?"
“You’re early,” Nicole said, a small pout on her lips, as she opened the door to reveal Jazzy stood there. “I was planning to run away before you arrived.”
Jazzy glared at her and held up three bags. “I come bearing clothes.”
“Oh dear.”
She shooed her in, stepping over the threshold. “Move, move, move,” she said. “Go upstairs and look at the clothes. I’ll be up in a moment.”
“Why? Why not now?”
“I want to say hello to your lovely daughter, that’s why!”
Nicole raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she took the bags and headed upstairs. She walked into her bedroom and pulled off her sweatshirt, leaving her bra and undershirt on, opened the bags and poured the contents onto the bed then sat on the end, picking at bits of fluff on her jeans.
She looked across, suspiciously, at a lilac coloured top and poked it, trying to decide whether to have a closer look or not.
“Don't poke the clothes, Nick,” Jazzy scolded, walking in. “See anything you like?”
“Really don't.”
Jazzy sighed. “Look, I want you to find something sexy. How about this?” She picked up the lilac top and grabbed Nicole’s arm, pulling her to her feet and holding it up against her chest. “You’d look gorgeous in this.”
Nicole snorted. “It’d show my belly,” she said.
“You have a nice belly.”
“How would you know?”
“Well ... I don't, but I’m sure you do!”
“I have stretch marks. I had a baby, remember?”
“Nick, I’m sure you’ll look fine. Try it on.” She thrust the top into Nicole’s hands.
“You’re stood here.”
“Shy now, are we? You never were in high school Miss-Never-Wears-A-Bra.”
“I told you. Stretch marks.”
“Well, I’m going to see the stretch marks anyway.”
“At least turn around!”
Jazzy muttered something about nothing she hadn’t seen before and did so, but not before picking a matching pair of lilac trousers up off the bed and tossing them at Nicole. “Both.”
Nicole sighed and pulled off her jeans and shirt, pulling the trousers on. “Jazzy, these don't even reach my waist!”
“That’s the idea,” Jazzy retorted.
Nicole groaned and put the top on, standing in front of the full length mirror. “Alright, you can turn around.”
“You look gorgeous!” Jazzy gushed, seeing her friend all dressed up. “We just need to do something with your hair and ...”
“I’m not wearing this,” Nicole yelped. “It shows my belly, and stretch marks, and practically shows the underside of my boobs.”
Jazzy walked across and stared at her stomach until Nicole started to blush. “Nick, I can see one tiny, tiny little stretch mark. You barely even showed when you were pregnant! Ash was a tiny baby!”
“Don't you have anything less revealing?” Nicole asked.
“Yes, but I’m not letting you wear those.” She paused and stared at her belly again. “Do you still have a piercing?”
“I’m not putting my belly button ring in!” Nicole squeaked.
“Oh, you should! You have it pierced so wear it!”
“I was fifteen and I wore it for two years. The hole’s probably closed up.” Jazzy raised an eyebrow. “It hurts?” Jazzy put her hands on her hips. “I lost my belly bar?” Jazzy grabbed a little trinket from the dresser behind her and held it up: her belly bar. “Jazzy, don't make me.”
Jazzy smirked. “Go on. Live a little.”
Nicole sighed and took the belly bar off her friend. “I don't want to wear this.”
“For once, do as you’re told.”
“If I’d done what I was told I wouldn't have Ashley now.”
“True.” Jazzy reached out and pulled Nicole’s hair over her face. “I notice you cut your hair.” She tilted her head. “Is it me or is it longer on the right side?”
Nicole glared at her and moved her hair again. “Are you going to attack my hair with scissors next?”
“No, it seems you already did that.” She pointed at the chair by the dressing table. “Sit.”
Nicole whimpered. “Do I have to?”
Smirking, her friend replied, “Yep. Sit. I’m going to do your hair for you.”
“I don't want to go out tonight. Please don't make me.”
“I’m dragging you out and you’re going to enjoy it.” She grabbed Nicole, who had put the belly bar in, and pushed her onto the seat then reached for her hair brush, running it through her hair.
“I won’t.”
“You will, I promise. And if you don't, we’ll get you so drunk you don't remember tomorrow.”
“Brilliant,” Nicole said, sarcastically. “Leave me alone already.”
Jazzy snorted. “You know me better than that.”
“Don't remind me.”
*
It was relatively late when Spencer turned up to babysit Ashley, and as Nicole ascended the stairs she heard Jazzy opening the door and laying into the poor man for being late. Ignoring the rampant swearing coming from her best friend’s mouth, Nicole pushed open her daughter’s bedroom door and stepped inside to find Ashley lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Spencer’s here, so I’m going out with Jazzy, okay?”
“About time too!” Ashley said, vehemently.
Nicole raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more as she bent over and kissed Ashley on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, Ash,” she whispered. She straightened up and stroked the dream catcher hanging above the bed. “Look after my girl’s dreams.” She turned around and left the room, heading back down the stairs and into the living room, where Spencer and Jazzy were stood, back to back, glaring angrily at the walls, arms crossed across their chests. They looked like a comedy act.
“What happened?”
“She yelled at me!”
“He was late!”
“I was with Emily!”
“Think with your brain for once not with your-”
“Jasmine!” Nicole scolded. “Spencer babysits for me as a courtesy. He isn’t obliged to come here, alright? It’s not like he’s her dad. If he’s late that’s fine.” She turned to smile at him and noticed, for the first time, that he was staring, mouth hanging open, at her. “What?” she asked.
“You’re gorgeous!” he exclaimed.
“You don't have to sound so bloody shocked,” Jazzy scolded.
“Hey, I’m not shocked. I remember how she looked in high school but ... since ...” He refocused on her. “You stopped dressing to look good, but with your hair like that and everything you’re just ... wow.”
“I’ll take your lack of coherency as a compliment,” Nicole said, with a smirk.
Spencer chuckled. “I’m going to go set my blanket up on the sofa,” he said, wandering off into the lounge.
Nicole rounded on Jazzy. “And as for you...!”
“What did I do?” Jazzy asked, innocently.
“I just told Ashley I’m going out tonight,” Nicole said, hands on hips.
“And?”
“She said ‘about time too’.”
“Good for her.” Jazzy avoided eye contact, picking lint off her sleeve.
“Jazzy, did you, by any chance, bribe my daughter to say that?”
“How could you accuse me of a thing like that?” Jazzy gasped.
“Because I saw a five pound note beneath her pillow and I know she wouldn't say a thing like that!”
Jazzy had the good grace to blush. “Alright, so I did. So sue me! I wanted her to encourage you not give you an excuse to stay home.”
Nicole glared at her. “Fine,” she said. “I forgive you. This time.” She patted her hair. Jazzy had somehow managed to make it wavy, then pinned it up so that small strands hung down around her ears and eyes, but it was in a delicate twist. Her fringe, Jazzy had complained, was completely unmanageable, and she had merely pinned a bit of it up so that it was a half-fringe, complaining the whole time about home-cutting and taking her to a proper hairdresser next time.
Jazzy looped her arm through Nicole’s and herded her towards the door, their high heels clacking noisily against the floor. Nicole was wearing purple heels that threatened to trip her at any moment, Jazzy was wearing black three-inch heels that she somehow managed to stay upright in. They matched her gorgeous outfit of flared black trousers and a low-cut top exposing her own belly, a belt slung around her waist. The top was sparkly with glitter and had flared sleeves at the end. Put together with her light brown hair falling loosely around her shoulders and across one eye, straight as an arrow, she looked stunning.
“I’m dragging you out of that door before you manage to weasel out of this,” she said, with a grin. “Come on. My car’s waiting.”
Nicole whined, “Do I have to?”
Jazzy’s answering glare told her all she needed to know.
Next: Chapter 4b