Awesome Ladies Ficathon Fic
Okay, I've kind of let my fic get pretty disorganized, so. Working to fix that! These are my Awesome Ladies Ficathon fic.
Not Waiting Around | Ashleigh | Greek | PG
written for this prompt
Ashleigh knew she was awesome.
Oh, she struggled with self-confidence as much as the next person. Had days when she said the wrong thing. Almost failed a couple of classes. Stared in the mirror and everything looked wrong.
But, still. She was awesome. She was a good friend.
When she moved to New York, it was like this whole world had opened in front of her. She was flat broke, couldn't afford any of the fashions she spent her days recommending, but it felt just like when she met the ZBZs: She belonged here.
And maybe she had a night of self-pity every time she got an invitation to yet another ZBZ wedding, but, the next morning, she'd go to work early and, by the end of the day, she'd remember that she loved her life. If she wanted a guy, she could get a guy. But her standards were higher now and she wanted the right guy.
Most days, she was pretty sure she'd find him eventually.
Roles | Summer | The OC | PG
written for this prompt
High school had defined a role for Summer pretty early on. She was Marissa Cooper's best friend. She was pretty. She was popular. She was--
Well, it didn't matter beyond that, did it? Nobody ever asked her to be more than that. So she laughed and she partied and, mostly, she had a good time.
And if people didn't know that maybe she really liked her volunteer hours at the animal shelter and sometimes she thought the step-monster wasn't so bad and that a plastic horse was her most important possession, then that was okay.
She knew who she was.
Wants | Blair Waldorf | Gossip Girl | PG
written for this prompt
Blair was tired. Tired of always having to fight to get people to pay attention to her. She wanted to be someone who commanded attention every time she walked into the room. To be assured of her place in the world.
Sometimes, she thought what she really wanted was to be Serena.
As far back as she could remember, she was jealous of that part of Serena. Blair earned everything she'd ever had, but Serena had it all handed to her. And could take anything she wanted. Like she'd taken Nate.
It was an old wound now, forgotten most of the time, but Blair had worked so hard to get Nate. To keep him. And Serena had undone all of that in one single night.
That was the kind of power Blair wanted.
She wanted to see something and reach for it, in complete confidence that it would be hers. She wanted to be loved, not because she'd proven herself, not because she'd won the competition, but simply because someone wanted to love her. She wanted to be Blair, just Blair, not Blair Waldorf, with all the pressure and responsibilities that implied.
Mostly, she wanted something, just one thing that was truly hers.
Like Father, Like Daughter | Emily Lightman | Lie to Me | PG
written for this prompt
Emily was six the first time she tried to lie to her dad. He asked her if she'd taken any cookies before dinner and, when she said no, he'd sat down and explained that he'd always know when she lied. She believed him, of course. Every six year old kid believes her dad when he says that.
It took her a couple of years to figure out that, when other dads said that, they were the ones who were lying.
When she was eight, he let her get away with a lie for the first time. Her mom asked if she'd tried on her makeup, Emily said no, and her dad didn't look up from his computer, even though he'd caught her trying to scrub the lipstick off her shirt.
She was twelve the first time she caught him in a lie. She asked if her mom was coming home for dinner and he said she was working, and, okay, maybe it wasn't a brilliant deduction on her part, as, those days, her parents almost never shared a meal together, but she could swear it had been more that. Something had given him away.
After that, she started reading his books and paying attention when he talked about micro-expressions.
Which is how, at 15, she'd known George would say yes when she asked him out. Her friends were in awe of her courage, but, the thing is, Emily knew he liked her.
She'd seen it on his face.
Words | Harriet (Matt/Harriet) | Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip | PG
written for this prompt
Harriet was pretty sure Matt loved her because she was funny. Not only because of that, but he'd watch her performing a sketch and, maybe they were together, maybe they were fighting, maybe both, but he always had the same expression on his face, this look of wonder and, yes, love, but also affection, like he knew her and he knew this was what she did best, and that, together, they could create something better than anything they could create with anyone else.
Which is how she knew they'd never be able to stay apart from each other. It didn't matter that she was Christian and he was Jewish and, yeah, sometimes she did worry that he was going to hell, and that he called her an idiot almost every time they discussed politics, when you found that kind of creative connection with someone, you couldn't betray it. They could betray everything else about each other, but, no matter what, he would write the words and she would say them because they had to, because they meant something and they couldn't do it alone.
Not Waiting Around | Ashleigh | Greek | PG
written for this prompt
Ashleigh knew she was awesome.
Oh, she struggled with self-confidence as much as the next person. Had days when she said the wrong thing. Almost failed a couple of classes. Stared in the mirror and everything looked wrong.
But, still. She was awesome. She was a good friend.
When she moved to New York, it was like this whole world had opened in front of her. She was flat broke, couldn't afford any of the fashions she spent her days recommending, but it felt just like when she met the ZBZs: She belonged here.
And maybe she had a night of self-pity every time she got an invitation to yet another ZBZ wedding, but, the next morning, she'd go to work early and, by the end of the day, she'd remember that she loved her life. If she wanted a guy, she could get a guy. But her standards were higher now and she wanted the right guy.
Most days, she was pretty sure she'd find him eventually.
Roles | Summer | The OC | PG
written for this prompt
High school had defined a role for Summer pretty early on. She was Marissa Cooper's best friend. She was pretty. She was popular. She was--
Well, it didn't matter beyond that, did it? Nobody ever asked her to be more than that. So she laughed and she partied and, mostly, she had a good time.
And if people didn't know that maybe she really liked her volunteer hours at the animal shelter and sometimes she thought the step-monster wasn't so bad and that a plastic horse was her most important possession, then that was okay.
She knew who she was.
Wants | Blair Waldorf | Gossip Girl | PG
written for this prompt
Blair was tired. Tired of always having to fight to get people to pay attention to her. She wanted to be someone who commanded attention every time she walked into the room. To be assured of her place in the world.
Sometimes, she thought what she really wanted was to be Serena.
As far back as she could remember, she was jealous of that part of Serena. Blair earned everything she'd ever had, but Serena had it all handed to her. And could take anything she wanted. Like she'd taken Nate.
It was an old wound now, forgotten most of the time, but Blair had worked so hard to get Nate. To keep him. And Serena had undone all of that in one single night.
That was the kind of power Blair wanted.
She wanted to see something and reach for it, in complete confidence that it would be hers. She wanted to be loved, not because she'd proven herself, not because she'd won the competition, but simply because someone wanted to love her. She wanted to be Blair, just Blair, not Blair Waldorf, with all the pressure and responsibilities that implied.
Mostly, she wanted something, just one thing that was truly hers.
Like Father, Like Daughter | Emily Lightman | Lie to Me | PG
written for this prompt
Emily was six the first time she tried to lie to her dad. He asked her if she'd taken any cookies before dinner and, when she said no, he'd sat down and explained that he'd always know when she lied. She believed him, of course. Every six year old kid believes her dad when he says that.
It took her a couple of years to figure out that, when other dads said that, they were the ones who were lying.
When she was eight, he let her get away with a lie for the first time. Her mom asked if she'd tried on her makeup, Emily said no, and her dad didn't look up from his computer, even though he'd caught her trying to scrub the lipstick off her shirt.
She was twelve the first time she caught him in a lie. She asked if her mom was coming home for dinner and he said she was working, and, okay, maybe it wasn't a brilliant deduction on her part, as, those days, her parents almost never shared a meal together, but she could swear it had been more that. Something had given him away.
After that, she started reading his books and paying attention when he talked about micro-expressions.
Which is how, at 15, she'd known George would say yes when she asked him out. Her friends were in awe of her courage, but, the thing is, Emily knew he liked her.
She'd seen it on his face.
Words | Harriet (Matt/Harriet) | Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip | PG
written for this prompt
Harriet was pretty sure Matt loved her because she was funny. Not only because of that, but he'd watch her performing a sketch and, maybe they were together, maybe they were fighting, maybe both, but he always had the same expression on his face, this look of wonder and, yes, love, but also affection, like he knew her and he knew this was what she did best, and that, together, they could create something better than anything they could create with anyone else.
Which is how she knew they'd never be able to stay apart from each other. It didn't matter that she was Christian and he was Jewish and, yeah, sometimes she did worry that he was going to hell, and that he called her an idiot almost every time they discussed politics, when you found that kind of creative connection with someone, you couldn't betray it. They could betray everything else about each other, but, no matter what, he would write the words and she would say them because they had to, because they meant something and they couldn't do it alone.