Chocolate/Pistachio/Chocolate Chip Mint/Mocha/FOTD smoothie
Authors: Marina and Casey
Story: Shifts universe (post-Shifts)
Challenge: Chocolate 3 (sympathy), Pistachio 11 (an argument) [Marina]; Chocolate Chip Mint 8 (incessant), Mocha 18 (have I ever steered you wrong), FOTD (tipple) [Casey]
Toppings: Rainbow Sprinkles (Mariah and Joshua), Caramel (the twins are seventeen)
Extra: Smoothie
Word Count: 817
Rating: PG
Summary: Mariah has an idea. Josh doesn’t like it.
Notes: Previously to this, Mariah dated a classmate named Tom who put her through a lot of emotional trauma because he was able to take advantage of the fact that certain triggers break her control over her empathic abilities, especially when paired with alcohol (hence FOTD).
Mariah bounded into her twin brother's room. "Josh! I have an idea!"
Joshua looked up from his homework and lifted an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked.
"I want to learn how to control my emotions while drunk," she announced matter-of-factly, as she flung herself on Josh's bed and peered up at him.
He stared at her. "Right now?"
"Yeah. Mom and Dad are asleep. The park will be deserted. And Ellen's said she'd provide the alcohol because it's for science," she said and then grinned, even if her eyes showed her nerves. "C'mon, it'll be more interesting than homework."
"Are you crazy? No!" He scooted back a few inches on the bed. "If you want to learn how, fine, but at least wait until you're actually legal. Geez, Mariah!"
"But if I learn now, I can enjoy it when I'm legal," she argued. "Don't be a spoil sport, Josh. You'll be there to make sure I'm okay!"
"You are crazy. You don't even like alcohol."
"No, it's nasty, but I'm not going to be that person in college, Josh."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Mariah favored her brother with a look. "Have I ever steered you wrong?" she asked magnanimously.
Josh's mouth hung open for a long moment. "You really are crazy," he said. "First of all, yes, you have, and second, that's not an answer. What do you mean by 'that person'?"
"You know. The weird one, who doesn't do the rest of the stuff that everyone else does," she muttered, now not making eye contact.
His expression softened as her statement sunk in. "'riah, you're weird. It's just a fact," he teased, but kindly.
"But I don't want to be weirder than normal," Mariah insisted, looking up again. "Please, Josh?" she asked, a bit of pleading in her voice now. "What happened...with Tom...I don't want to risk it with Sam." She paused. "I mean, not that Sam would insist I drink but still."
"If Sam's not going to try to make you drink-and if he does, you better tell me so I can kick his ass-then why? You don't like alcohol. You know what it does to you. You don't even like parties, at least not that kind. There are plenty of people who don't do that kind of stuff."
"Because I need to know. For me. I need to overcome it. I don't like..." she trailed off, staring at her hands fixedly.
"Don't like what?" he asked softly.
She laughed, getting to her feet and running a hand through her hair. "Being an empath. Being able to wipe people's memories. You name it, I don't like it," she said.
Josh knew that was not really what she meant. "Come on, 'riah," he said. "What's wrong?"
"Don't like not having control," she said softly, back to him.
"Screwing around with alcohol isn't going to fix that."
"It will if I can learn to control it," she said stoutly, glancing over her shoulder at him somberly.
"Maybe for that," he said practically, "but what about the other things? Alcohol's not going to help you if Lynne and Drew decide to have another baby, or if one of us is feeling badly or gets hurt, and you know that."
She wrinkled her nose. "That's not why I'm asking for your help. I know that. But it's something. It's something I can fix."
Josh shut his textbook and got up, crossing over to her. "You don't really want to do this."
"I need to, Joshie," Mariah said softly. "For me. Not for you, or Sam, or Oriana. For me. Understand, please."
"No," he said firmly. "Because I know you, and I know you're going to regret it."
She stared at him and then sighed. "Whatever. Fine," she said, shoulders slumping as she turned and headed for the door.
"How did you really get the alcohol?" he said. "Ellen wouldn't have gotten it for you, even for science."
"I blackmailed Grayson," Mariah admitted, a ghost of a grin flashing across her face, pausing with her hand on the doorknob.
Josh laughed. "Really? How did you manage to get enough dirt on him?"
"It's Grayson. It's easy enough to blackmail him with nothing."
"Good point." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Lynne would seriously maim both of you if she found out. I won't tell her, though."
She shrugged. "I'm not gonna do anything by myself. I'll shove it in the alcohol cupboard or something. Mom and Dad aren't likely to notice."
"Good." He let it drop, knowing she meant it. If he would not help her, she was unlikely to find anyone who would, blackmail or no.
She let out a breath and opened the door, obviously unhappy. He watched her go, feeling equally upset, but knowing that he had to stand firm if he wanted to help her. Sooner or later, she would understand.
Story: Shifts universe (post-Shifts)
Challenge: Chocolate 3 (sympathy), Pistachio 11 (an argument) [Marina]; Chocolate Chip Mint 8 (incessant), Mocha 18 (have I ever steered you wrong), FOTD (tipple) [Casey]
Toppings: Rainbow Sprinkles (Mariah and Joshua), Caramel (the twins are seventeen)
Extra: Smoothie
Word Count: 817
Rating: PG
Summary: Mariah has an idea. Josh doesn’t like it.
Notes: Previously to this, Mariah dated a classmate named Tom who put her through a lot of emotional trauma because he was able to take advantage of the fact that certain triggers break her control over her empathic abilities, especially when paired with alcohol (hence FOTD).
Mariah bounded into her twin brother's room. "Josh! I have an idea!"
Joshua looked up from his homework and lifted an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked.
"I want to learn how to control my emotions while drunk," she announced matter-of-factly, as she flung herself on Josh's bed and peered up at him.
He stared at her. "Right now?"
"Yeah. Mom and Dad are asleep. The park will be deserted. And Ellen's said she'd provide the alcohol because it's for science," she said and then grinned, even if her eyes showed her nerves. "C'mon, it'll be more interesting than homework."
"Are you crazy? No!" He scooted back a few inches on the bed. "If you want to learn how, fine, but at least wait until you're actually legal. Geez, Mariah!"
"But if I learn now, I can enjoy it when I'm legal," she argued. "Don't be a spoil sport, Josh. You'll be there to make sure I'm okay!"
"You are crazy. You don't even like alcohol."
"No, it's nasty, but I'm not going to be that person in college, Josh."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Mariah favored her brother with a look. "Have I ever steered you wrong?" she asked magnanimously.
Josh's mouth hung open for a long moment. "You really are crazy," he said. "First of all, yes, you have, and second, that's not an answer. What do you mean by 'that person'?"
"You know. The weird one, who doesn't do the rest of the stuff that everyone else does," she muttered, now not making eye contact.
His expression softened as her statement sunk in. "'riah, you're weird. It's just a fact," he teased, but kindly.
"But I don't want to be weirder than normal," Mariah insisted, looking up again. "Please, Josh?" she asked, a bit of pleading in her voice now. "What happened...with Tom...I don't want to risk it with Sam." She paused. "I mean, not that Sam would insist I drink but still."
"If Sam's not going to try to make you drink-and if he does, you better tell me so I can kick his ass-then why? You don't like alcohol. You know what it does to you. You don't even like parties, at least not that kind. There are plenty of people who don't do that kind of stuff."
"Because I need to know. For me. I need to overcome it. I don't like..." she trailed off, staring at her hands fixedly.
"Don't like what?" he asked softly.
She laughed, getting to her feet and running a hand through her hair. "Being an empath. Being able to wipe people's memories. You name it, I don't like it," she said.
Josh knew that was not really what she meant. "Come on, 'riah," he said. "What's wrong?"
"Don't like not having control," she said softly, back to him.
"Screwing around with alcohol isn't going to fix that."
"It will if I can learn to control it," she said stoutly, glancing over her shoulder at him somberly.
"Maybe for that," he said practically, "but what about the other things? Alcohol's not going to help you if Lynne and Drew decide to have another baby, or if one of us is feeling badly or gets hurt, and you know that."
She wrinkled her nose. "That's not why I'm asking for your help. I know that. But it's something. It's something I can fix."
Josh shut his textbook and got up, crossing over to her. "You don't really want to do this."
"I need to, Joshie," Mariah said softly. "For me. Not for you, or Sam, or Oriana. For me. Understand, please."
"No," he said firmly. "Because I know you, and I know you're going to regret it."
She stared at him and then sighed. "Whatever. Fine," she said, shoulders slumping as she turned and headed for the door.
"How did you really get the alcohol?" he said. "Ellen wouldn't have gotten it for you, even for science."
"I blackmailed Grayson," Mariah admitted, a ghost of a grin flashing across her face, pausing with her hand on the doorknob.
Josh laughed. "Really? How did you manage to get enough dirt on him?"
"It's Grayson. It's easy enough to blackmail him with nothing."
"Good point." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Lynne would seriously maim both of you if she found out. I won't tell her, though."
She shrugged. "I'm not gonna do anything by myself. I'll shove it in the alcohol cupboard or something. Mom and Dad aren't likely to notice."
"Good." He let it drop, knowing she meant it. If he would not help her, she was unlikely to find anyone who would, blackmail or no.
She let out a breath and opened the door, obviously unhappy. He watched her go, feeling equally upset, but knowing that he had to stand firm if he wanted to help her. Sooner or later, she would understand.