Layla Fic: Sour-Yellow Mental Block
Title: Sour-Yellow Mental Block
Fandom: Sky High
Characters: Layla, Layla's mom, Will, Warren
Pairings: brief Will/Layla
Word Count: 756
Rating: G
Warnings: tiny, tiny, tiny slash, if you squint.
Summary: An exploration of why Layla can't grow lemons.
Author's Notes: My first entry for my Layla table. This is obviously for prompt #078, Lemon.
---
Layla has been trying since she was eleven to make lemons, and it just doesn’t seem to work. She’ll focus as hard as she possibly can on the fruit - yellow, citrus, iced-tea - whatever reminds her of it, but nothing seems to work. Sure, apples, oranges, strawberries will emerge with ease, but lemons stubbornly refuse her call. She managed to make a lime that was a little yellow once - but for some reason it exploded after she plucked it. So finally with a huff Layla cornered her mother while she was feeding parrots one day in the backyard.
“Mom, are my powers broken?” she demanded with a pout, arms crossed tenaciously over her chest. One parrot, obnoxiously bright yellow in color, gave a loud squawk.
“You’ll watch your mouth, you silly little thing!” Layla’s mother scolded. “What was that honey?” She brushed away the foul-mouthed parrot and beckoned closer another, pulling more treats from the bucket on the ground.
“Are my powers broken?” Layla repeated. Shooing away the tropical birds, Mrs. Williams placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side.
“Is this about your lemons again?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“More like my lack of lemons,” Layla huffed, collapsing onto the green lawn. The blades of grass twirled themselves between her toes and fingers. Her mother settled down beside her.
“I don’t see why you care, dear. You hate lemons anyway,” Mrs. Williams pointed out.
“I only hate them because I can’t grow them,” Layla countered. Mrs. Williams sighed.
“Your powers aren’t broken Layla. It’s a mental block.”
“A mental block.”
“You are preventing yourself from growing lemons. For some unconscious reason, you loathe lemons, and not because you can’t grow them.” The woman pondered for a moment. “Or you’re terrified of them.”
Layla laughed and shoved her mom lightly with her shoulder. “Don’t go all Freudian on me mom.” Mrs. Williams shoved back.
“I’m not ‘going all Freudian’ as you so delicately put it. Anyway, I’m serious Layla. Until you find out why you hate lemons, you won’t be able to grow them.” She kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Did you know that for years I couldn’t speak to sheep?”
“Seriously? Haven’t you always told me that sheep are possibly the dumbest animal on the face of the planet?”
“They are, not that I say that in front of them. Turns out I couldn’t speak to sheep because when I was two, my older brother explained to me where lamb chops come from.”
Layla exploded into laughter. “You can’t be serious.”
“God honest truth. It took me until I married your father and visited his uncle’s farm for me to be able to speak to them - even though they don’t have much to say.” Layla continued to giggle. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our little chat, you have homework to do young lady.” Layla rolled her eyes in response, and brushed the grass off of her skin where it had been tightly gripping limbs.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later mom.” Striding back into the house, Layla glanced over her shoulder. “So mom - where do lamb chops come from?”
Mrs. Williams threw a handful of parrot treats at her daughter’s face.
*~*
The next day as Layla walked through the halls of Sky High, she watched as Will brushed off the advancements of his freshman fan club, but shyly accept a note from a senior girl. Warren, who was only a few steps behind him, snatched up the note and set it on fire. Will and Warren began bickering in the hallway, but she couldn’t make out their conversation underneath the loud chatter filling the corridor.
Then Layla felt her face go pale as Warren leaned in close to Will and whisper something into his ear - Will’s response was only a deep blush. As hard as she tried, it seemed her boyfriend and his best friend were standing a bit too close. Gripping her bag tightly, she strode up the pair. Warren instantly leaned away and Will fought to push down the flush on his face.
“Hey Layla, what’s up?” Will said, kissing her on the cheek as she reached him. Layla gave a false grin.
“Nothing much. You?”
Warren and Will exchanged curious looks.
*~*
When Layla returned home that day, her bedroom was full of the oval fruits, hanging from every branch of her indoor flora. She plucked one, slowly peeled back the skin, and took a bite - the intense sour flavor didn’t actually taste that bad.
Fandom: Sky High
Characters: Layla, Layla's mom, Will, Warren
Pairings: brief Will/Layla
Word Count: 756
Rating: G
Warnings: tiny, tiny, tiny slash, if you squint.
Summary: An exploration of why Layla can't grow lemons.
Author's Notes: My first entry for my Layla table. This is obviously for prompt #078, Lemon.
---
Layla has been trying since she was eleven to make lemons, and it just doesn’t seem to work. She’ll focus as hard as she possibly can on the fruit - yellow, citrus, iced-tea - whatever reminds her of it, but nothing seems to work. Sure, apples, oranges, strawberries will emerge with ease, but lemons stubbornly refuse her call. She managed to make a lime that was a little yellow once - but for some reason it exploded after she plucked it. So finally with a huff Layla cornered her mother while she was feeding parrots one day in the backyard.
“Mom, are my powers broken?” she demanded with a pout, arms crossed tenaciously over her chest. One parrot, obnoxiously bright yellow in color, gave a loud squawk.
“You’ll watch your mouth, you silly little thing!” Layla’s mother scolded. “What was that honey?” She brushed away the foul-mouthed parrot and beckoned closer another, pulling more treats from the bucket on the ground.
“Are my powers broken?” Layla repeated. Shooing away the tropical birds, Mrs. Williams placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side.
“Is this about your lemons again?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“More like my lack of lemons,” Layla huffed, collapsing onto the green lawn. The blades of grass twirled themselves between her toes and fingers. Her mother settled down beside her.
“I don’t see why you care, dear. You hate lemons anyway,” Mrs. Williams pointed out.
“I only hate them because I can’t grow them,” Layla countered. Mrs. Williams sighed.
“Your powers aren’t broken Layla. It’s a mental block.”
“A mental block.”
“You are preventing yourself from growing lemons. For some unconscious reason, you loathe lemons, and not because you can’t grow them.” The woman pondered for a moment. “Or you’re terrified of them.”
Layla laughed and shoved her mom lightly with her shoulder. “Don’t go all Freudian on me mom.” Mrs. Williams shoved back.
“I’m not ‘going all Freudian’ as you so delicately put it. Anyway, I’m serious Layla. Until you find out why you hate lemons, you won’t be able to grow them.” She kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Did you know that for years I couldn’t speak to sheep?”
“Seriously? Haven’t you always told me that sheep are possibly the dumbest animal on the face of the planet?”
“They are, not that I say that in front of them. Turns out I couldn’t speak to sheep because when I was two, my older brother explained to me where lamb chops come from.”
Layla exploded into laughter. “You can’t be serious.”
“God honest truth. It took me until I married your father and visited his uncle’s farm for me to be able to speak to them - even though they don’t have much to say.” Layla continued to giggle. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our little chat, you have homework to do young lady.” Layla rolled her eyes in response, and brushed the grass off of her skin where it had been tightly gripping limbs.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later mom.” Striding back into the house, Layla glanced over her shoulder. “So mom - where do lamb chops come from?”
Mrs. Williams threw a handful of parrot treats at her daughter’s face.
*~*
The next day as Layla walked through the halls of Sky High, she watched as Will brushed off the advancements of his freshman fan club, but shyly accept a note from a senior girl. Warren, who was only a few steps behind him, snatched up the note and set it on fire. Will and Warren began bickering in the hallway, but she couldn’t make out their conversation underneath the loud chatter filling the corridor.
Then Layla felt her face go pale as Warren leaned in close to Will and whisper something into his ear - Will’s response was only a deep blush. As hard as she tried, it seemed her boyfriend and his best friend were standing a bit too close. Gripping her bag tightly, she strode up the pair. Warren instantly leaned away and Will fought to push down the flush on his face.
“Hey Layla, what’s up?” Will said, kissing her on the cheek as she reached him. Layla gave a false grin.
“Nothing much. You?”
Warren and Will exchanged curious looks.
*~*
When Layla returned home that day, her bedroom was full of the oval fruits, hanging from every branch of her indoor flora. She plucked one, slowly peeled back the skin, and took a bite - the intense sour flavor didn’t actually taste that bad.