driving. Singing loudly and having good time. Makes a lot of self deprecating jokes while she sings. Holds Ivy's hand whenever she has to merge lanes.
shotgun. Made the road trip playlist, they're driving in her car. The playlist is a lot of showtunes, lot of 80s music and classic rock, lot of Hayley Kiyoko and Mary Lambert. She's also singing and harmonizing with Nadia (they do a wicked cover of The Dark I Know Well).
backseat, middle row. He sings along with the playlist until he falls asleep on Jason's shoulder.
Backseat, right row. Rolls his eyes at the music, but sings along anyway (quietly, so he doesn't wake Peter) and is the stereotypical kid who asks "Are we there yet?" every five minutes.
Staring out the window with earbuds in. Doesn't really register what's there. Is sick of the music, but stays happy anyway. Is texting Lucas the whole time.
I'm such trash for love/hate relationships, do you think you could write a fic where Nadia & Ivy lovingly call each other sort of mean names? Nothing too serious, but just teasing
i love these girls so i hope i did them justice!! thanks for the prompt!
Pet names were something Nadia had never understood. Her parents never addressed each other by anything but name, and she’d never had anyone to call anything sickeningly sweet. She found the whole idea a bit lame.
Peter had taken to calling Jason ‘blue-eyes’ in addition to his usually ‘babe’. Jason called Peter ‘baby’. Lucas called Matt every name under the sun, mostly just to embarrass him. Sweetie, honey, angel, cutie, lovebug. All that mushy shit.
But Nadia had a very different way of showing her affection for Ivy.
these are a few of my favorite things || [5/10] female characters
Life is short and life is strange Trouble now and troubled past Times have changed they rearrange And little girls grow up so fast Feel it how it grows inside me Swirling ball of anguished cries Haunted daunted so unwanted Feel its anger in me rise
Paint her in. One color ends and one begins. Brush away what’s stray: there’s disguise in her eyes. Add shadows that dance across her skin: hide the doubt that cries out within her. Stripped bare, beneath all the layers, would you recognize the girl lying there? Sought after, trapped like a pearl, now the portrait has captured the girl.
Portrait of a Girl (bare: A Pop Opera) - incredibly relatable