#I read some of her work in class a few quarters back

[pottersfia]

study buddy

summary: classic study "date" fic, rodrick desperately needs help in english and y/n is happy to help. lots of fluff in this part. both 18

the end of senior year was quickly approaching and rodrick was sick and tired of his parents bugging him about his grades. it was the third quarter of the school year and senioritis tended to affect many people around this time but rodrick had been a victim since the day he stepped foot into high school. 

"if you want, we can work on this together?" rodrick looked over at you who was sitting next to him in his art elective class. you had been talking about your english assignment which, despite you being in honors english and him in regular, was the same. the book they read for the quarter came with study guide questions for each section of the book which eventually would help for the final book report. 

"you'd help me with that?" he asked you. you smiled and nodded.

"sometimes working with another person makes it easier." she replied. he smiled back and the deal was set. you would go over to his house 2 hours after school and start your assignment.

these 2 hours consisted of rodrick frantically picking up in his room, taking an abnormally long shower, considering it's rodrick, and begging his family to not say or do anything weird or embarrassing. a pretty girl was coming over to study with him!! suddenly as he applied deodorant for probably the 10th time already, he heard the doorbell. 

"i got it!" he yelled and rushed downstairs. he quickly caught his breath and looked through the peephole on the door to see you patiently waiting for an answer. he sighed and opened the door. you smiled as you looked up at the boy. 

"hey, y/n." he said. 

"hi, rodrick." you replied. the two of you stood in a few moments of silence stupidly smiling at each other. just as rodrick opened his mouth to break it you were interrupted by a sweet lady who cheerfully greeted you. 

"you must be y/n! come right on in." she smiled and made way for you to step inside, you did so.  "i'm so glad you're here to help rodrick, he's been struggling for quite some time."

"mom! can you please stop talking." rodrick loudly interrupted her, making you slightly laugh. 

"she is a guest in my house, rodrick, i want to greet her. my name is susan, honey. if you need anything i'll be right down here." you smiled again at her. 

"it's nice to meet you mrs.susan, thank you." you replied. 

"ok we have to go, bye mom." he walked towards the staircase and turned around to you. "you can follow me." you nodded and waved bye to susan following rodrick to his room. 

"keep that door open!" she said. rodrick groaned and you laughed again. 

"she's really nice." you said.

"annoying is what she is." he let you walk into his room. you looked around and smiled to yourself as you realized his room screamed rodrick. there were band posters everywhere, dark bedsheets, the floor was cleared off but magazines and comics, a few water bottles, and forgotten school books were scattered around his bedside table and desk. 

he closed the door quietly and sat down on the edge of his bed saying, "you can sit down i have my stuff," he reached to his backpack that was on the floor and pulled out his notebook and the book you were assigned.  you nodded and sat down on the desk chair that was right across from his spot on the bed. you pulled out your stuff too. 

"so i guess we can just start with the questions, do you need to review what we read today?" you asked. he nodded. you smiled and continued on explaining the events in the book.

rodrick was so mesmerized by you. he appreciated your want to help him with his work but how could he focus on anything academic with you right in front of him? he stared at the way you fidgeted with your fingers as you talked. he stared at how perfect your hair looked. he stared at your lips and thought about how good they would feel to ki-

"rodrick?" your voice snapped him out of his trance. 

"what?" he kinda shook his head as he regained focus sending a fluttery feeling to your stomach.

"i uh, were you listening?" you asked.

"oh yeah. i heard everything you said." he tried to lie but you saw right through him. 

"really?" you asked again. he lifted his hand to rub the back of neck a bit.

"i heard maybe half of what you said?" he replied, pretty unsure this time. you smiled and laughed.

"what are you so distracted by?" you asked. it was you. you were distracting his focus from the work but how could he just say that? he shrugged and turned his head away looking at absolutely nothing on the right side of his room.

"maybe if you sat next to me it would be easier." he said and turned back again to see your reaction. you were a little confused or taken aback maybe but nonetheless you stood up and joined him on the bed. 

"is this better?" you looked right at him and he looked back. you gave him a small smile and despite his heart feeling like it was beating out of his chest, he smiled back.

"yeah, i think so." he practically whispered sending another flutter to your heart. 

the two of you continued with the review. laughs and smiles were exchanged constantly and it was probably the most you've ever enjoyed doing school work. 

"you're doing really good rodrick, you just needed to focus some more." you smiled after he got another question right. 

"it's definitely because of you." he replied. you playfully bumped his shoulder and looked for another question to ask. 

"ok let's do another one." 

"i think i should get something for doing so good now." he said. you gave him a questioning look.

"like what, candy?" you replied. he shrugged. then you had an idea. it was a very corny idea but an idea nonetheless. the two of you were having a good time and it wouldn't hurt to ask, yolo right? "what if i give you a kiss?" you kinda cringed a bit at your words but tried not to let it show, anxiously waiting for his response.

the boy was stunned. his eyes widened and your words replayed in his head over and over. "a kiss?" he asked. "really?" 

"only if you want though. it's pretty dumb i don't know." you looked down at the paper in your lap but his words made you look back at him.

"no, it's not dumb. um. yeah, that would be great motivation." he nervously laughs. you laughed back.

"but it has to be after getting 2 questions right." you said. he agreed, and for sure, he got 2 questions right. 

"you've turned me into a genius, y/n." he smiled. 

"you're definitely reaching nerd status." you laughed.

"well, you gave me the best motivation ever." he replied. now it hit you, you actually had to kiss him. you tried to hide the nervousness from your face. there was no turning back now. you turned to face him, crossing your legs on the bed, and placed your hand on his shoulder as you leaned in and gave him a quick peck. he looked at you as you leaned back.

"how was that?" you asked. he was quiet for a moment a little shocked that this was happening with the girl he liked but then he snapped out of it.

"i-i don't know. maybe you should uh, do it again just to be sure." he answered, making you smile.

"if you insist." you leaned in and let your lips meet again. this time it was more than a peck. his hands rested on your cheeks and yours around his shoulders. you melted into the kiss taking in the moment as the butterflies that you constantly felt seemed to go crazy. 

once you finally parted for a breath the two of you couldn't stop smiling at each other. 

"yeah, that was pretty good." rodrick said. you gave him another quick kiss but just as your lips touched the door opened. 

"hey kids, do you want- oh." it was susan and you instantly jumped away from him. "didn't i tell you to keep the door open?" 

"mom! just go away!" rodrick stood up. 

"ok ok, sorry." she walked out but made sure to leave the door very much open. as soon as you heard her footsteps fade away you couldn't help but laugh. rodrick turned to you. 

"sorry, that was a lot." you said. he laughed too and sat back down next to you. 

"i know i'm sorry." he said. 

"it's ok. i just need to make sure to kiss you when there aren't any family members around." you said.

"i agree 100%."

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Growing Pains CH2 (MWC Day 8!)

Pairing: RE2 Leon Kennedy x Male(Intended) Reader Summary: College AU/Meet-cute(?) The cute guy that Claire hangs out with finally works up the courage to talk to you. Words: 1,662/200 Warnings: a few curse words but that's to be expected. Notes: Leon is super shy and awkward, I haven't read through it but when I was writing the dialogue and the text between it felt pretty chunky so if anyone has notes about that please let me know, I'm experimenting a little with the paragraphs, let me know if you liked the smaller ones better.

Navigation | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

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Friday felt like it would never end, like you’d never be able to catch a break. You had to feel grateful, though, it hadn’t rained yet and your weather app told you it would be sunny all day. The extreme difference in the weather kept you reeling, back home the temperature and weather were usually consistent with the month, but after moving closer to school you'd noticed that the weather was a lot more sporadic here; yesterday it had been freezing and pouring for the majority of the day, getting as low as 10 °C with a warning for hail. Today was the complete opposite, the temperature had been between 26 and 32 °C with absolutely no clouds in sight. The extreme (and unwarranted) differences in the weather had left you staggering to catch up, you’d woken up that morning absolutely drenched in sweat and blinded by the sun. Having set your thermostat to keep up with the freezing temperatures outside and the poor insulation of your cheap apartment, since it had been cloudy all week you never bothered with your curtains or blinds but clearly that was a mistake. 

You probably shouldn't say you hated Chicago, it was nice sometimes and the students here were pretty respectful. You could count on one hand all of the times you’ve actually had a bad customer experience and all of them centered around finals or exams. You look up as the bell dings and a customer enters, he’s huge, completely dwarfing you in size. As soon as he steps up to the counter you recognize him, his pale skin, and the weird markings on his face. You’ve heard Claire complaining about him time and time again, he was apparently so strict that no one in his classes has ever passed. 

You highly doubted that no one’s ever passed but since she never gave you his name, and only referred to him as the Evil Tyrant of the West Wing, you could never fact-check her. Evil tyrant or not, you still had a job to do and money to make so, you put on your best smile and greeted him politely. He orders a black coffee and a triple shot of expresso, you’re a little intimidated by his voice, and maybe his order but you know plenty of guys with his stature and intimidating aura who are actually sweethearts. The order is simple, youve made it so many times for the poor professors who used to come by in the dead of night, it's pure muscle memory at this point. Getting his order made and totaled up on the register takes little to no thought, he waits like he's got better things to do, and before you can tell him he tosses the exact total onto the counter, paying without thanking (or tipping) you. 

He scoops up his two drinks before marching out of the shop. His footsteps are loud and heavy, clunky boots dropping down hard onto the linoleum like you used to do as a pubescent 16-year-old throwing a tantrum, you think about how every time you did that your mom would call you disrespectful and she’d take away your phone. At that thought small smile forms on your face, you can't help but feel a little amused at the image of your tiny, 5’4 mother disciplining a man about as tall and wide as a skyscraper. “What an ass.” You huff and glance back down at the tip jar, it was a measly four bucks and some change, mostly quarters. You’ve had worse tips, at least this could buy you a water and maybe some peanuts or sunflower seeds if you chose right. 

You lean against the counter and cast a glance out of the big windows at the front, the guy Claire eats with is out there looking like a terrified puppy, he’s gripping the handles of his bike tightly as the tyrant guy chews into him for something you can only imagine. You watch as the tyrant storms off, pretty dramatically, Claire's friend puts up his bike and locks it to the pole before coming inside, he flinches when he sees you watching and shakily pulls off his (stupid-looking) helmet. “You- uh… Did you see all that?” His voice shakes slightly and he fidgets with the helmet nervously “Maybe.” You shrug wanting to cut the guy some slack. “Was it something you wanted me to see?” He shakes his head and you go back to the register, “Then I guess I didn't see anything.” He visibly relaxes but his steps toward the counter are a little shaky, you’re already tapping his order into the register by the time he gets up to the counter. “I didn't even order yet…” He sounds a little flustered and you look up to see that his cheeks have gone pink. “You get the same thing every time.” You counter, tapping the green total button on the register, “What if I wanted something different.” His voice evens out like he's getting more comfortable. “Did you?” - “No.” You chuckle at the absurdity and shake your head. 

“2.95 big guy.” There's a pause and you look up expectantly, he's looking at you star-struck but as soon as you make eye contact he fumbles for his wallet, dropping his helmet in the process. “Um- im so sorry…” He apologizes quickly, handing you a five and bending to pick up his helmet. “S’fine.” you pause to put his cash into the register and pull out his change. “Two-oh-five is your change.” You hand it back only for him to drop it into your tip jar, he smiles and takes his cookie when you hand it to him. “Is- uh. I mean- is Claire not here today?” He fumbles a little, tearing off pieces of his cookie. 

You shake your head “Nah, not yet. Summer’s always slow.” He nods along with you, it's obvious he knows Claire isn't here. You look over at the windows again and check your watch, it's just about closing time. “Why is that?” He breaks the silence as you log out of the register, you look up at him a little caught off guard, “Hm? Why what?” His cheeks go pink and he fumbles for words- “Um… I mean- uh. Why is summer always slow?” You nod, understanding what he meant, and go back to the register with a shrug, “Luis says it’s ‘cause of the heat, no one wants hot drinks.” He nods slightly and finishes off his cookie, crumpling up the napkin as he lingers. It's not hard to see that he wants to keep talking to you and you almost feel bad for him, you finish logging off and nod in the direction of the trash can. “Bet you a free drink you can't get that into the trash from here.” You know you shouldn't be handing out drinks but he's too cute and it's the first thing that pops into your head. 

He visibly lights up, his eyes get wider and his back straightens “Alright.” He looks back at the trash can by the door, taking his attention off of you. You can't help but admire him while he lines up his shot, he's got a cute side profile, he's pretty tall, and his hair looks nice and soft. He raises the napkin over his head and tosses it in, you tear your eyes away from the muscle in his arms to see the balled-up napkin bounce off the window and into the trash. He looks back at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, you shrug and smile back while turning to grab a cup. “I was on the basketball team in high school.” He says sounding more confident than he had earlier, you snort as he reveals this crucial information after he wins your little game. 

“Guess I set myself up then, huh?” You get a cup and turn back to him, “Whatchu want?” He looks proud of himself, his shoulders relaxed and held back confidently. You can't help but think he looks handsome when he’s confident like this, the worry lines on his face disappear, his brows unfurrow, and he actually looks his age. “What if…” He trails off, his demeanor turning anxious again. He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with the effort, “uh- w- what if… I got your number, instead of a drink?” A smile forces its way onto your face, he looks so nervous he might give himself an aneurysm. You huff playfully, unable to resist, this has to be the highlight of your week. 

You turn away from him to brew an iced coffee, It might be a little mean for you to draw this out, to make him worry more. “You want milk and sugar?” But you’ve always struggled with self-control. There's a long pause, before- “Ye… um yes please.” His voice is small and there's a slight shake if you listen close enough. You feel a little bad for doing this but you continue, you never pussy out. You finish brewing his coffee and in a smooth, well-practiced motion, you slap a sticker on the side and mark it with your name and number, putting a little x underneath. 

You hand it to him and without giving him time to think or breathe you herd him out of the shop. “Gotta close, call me later.” You shut and lock the door as he stands in front of it bewildered, his brain takes a while to catch up and you see him look down at the coffee in his hand and start to turn around but you’re faster; turning off the open sign and closing the blinds with a speed that you should be using for more important things, like getting dressed when you’re late to class, or finishing an essay that's about to be overdue, not being mysterious to the cute guy who still hasn't given you his name.

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A/N: it's getting easier and easier to write already, it didn't take half as long as yesterday's did to get 1,000 words. It feels so much good to actually feel happy writing. I can't help but feel worried it's not going to last forever with my fluctuating mental health but I've been looking up a few books to help improve my writing, grammar, flow, and punctuation and I've been seeing a lot of these writers saying that it's okay for you to be worried about that and to just push through.

[peach-and-bugs]

hii, jackie anon again back with another rq ^^ could you do dialogue 18 w/ jackie taylor if it's not too much trouble?

🐇Unadulterated Loathing - Jackie Taylor (1996) x fem!Reader🐇

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You could never understand why everyone in your school seemed to hold sweet Jackie Taylor up on some gold-plated pedestal. After all, she was just like every other pretty, popular, well-off teen girl, right? And highly doubt you're opinion of her will change after you're stuck working on your big Ap bio final with her...

Warnings: angst, but a happy ending, mildly suggestive yet tame humor

Word Count: 3,875

A/N: wow, this was way longer than I planned for it to be. Quick note: So I'm headcanons that Wiskayok High School/school district is kind of like how my school district works, where there is more than one elementary school, but the kids all come together and go to the same middle school. so y/n and Jackie didn't know one another till middle school. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 🐇

Jackie Taylor Tag List:

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy @damagnificentcookie

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-🐇-

Ap Bio had become both your favorite and least favorite class in you’re schedule. On the one hand, You’d always had a fondness for science, but there was just something special about biology. It clicked in a way that no other subject did for you. You also loved your teacher to the point of often staying behind during lunch to continue talking about whatever you’re class topic had been. But now, the problem of your lab partner has arisen. Jackie Taylor, Wiskayok High School’s sweetheart, has been assigned as your new lab partner for the last quarter of the year. You were stuck with the queen bee for the entire final quarter working with her on your big bio final, and you were ready to slam you’re head into a wall.

Jackie had never done anything to you. You had no idea if she knew you existed till now. But you couldn’t help not liking her. There was just something about that shiny smile and the way the curls in her hair always laid perfectly over her shoulders that got under your skin. But she hadn’t done anything to make you not like her, and that alone just made you more irritated with her. 

She didn’t start a conversation right away when she sat next to you after you’re new assignment together. Your group was assigned to look into the effect of different types of hormones on gene expression, which wouldn’t be too difficult, and if you’d like, you could probably do all the work on your own. That would be good in case Jackie turned out to be one of those girls who expected you, the class nerd, to do the project anyways. You’d had that happen a few times now in group projects, so what’s one more time, right? 

You were listening to your teacher go over the guidelines for the assignment and show you examples from the past few years. You periodically scribbled down notes for future reference. After a bit of time, you began watching the clock, leaning your cheeks against your palm with an unintentionally pointing lip as you waited for the bell to ring. You wanted to leave class today, unlike most days. Maybe you’d hide in the library with your lunch and read up on your topic to get a headstart on the project. You decided it was better to assume you’d be doing it all on your own from the jump than to be blindsided, right? 

But as you waited for the bell, watching the hands of the clock tick away, your gaze began to wander. First, you watched the jock at the table next to the door, trying not to fall asleep. Then you moved on to the girl behind him reading a romance novel behind her textbook till you faltered again to Jackie sitting at your right. She was scribbling away in her notebook, honey-blonde hair obstructing any meaningful view of her face. The lined paper of her notebook had notes written in curly, clean handwriting, yet the margins were littered with doodles of flowers and bunnies. She was currently scribbling away at one of her doodles, having grown tired of notes the same as you. 

She only caught sight of your staring when the bell rang. Startled out of your haze by the clanging sound you'd waited for, you blinked, swallowing hard when you’re suddenly met with her bright hazel eyes as she brushed that hair that had been in her face out of the way and behind her ear. You felt your eyes widen as you sat frozen, but only for a second before you frantically started packing away your things into your backpack like the rest of your classmates. You could feel her stare, but she said nothing. That is, till she shook out of her daze. 

“Uh, hey-” she started as you began to leave. You’d hustled to the door but stopped at the sound of her voice, leaving you standing awkwardly by the door, hands clutching the strap of your backpack tight. “Do you wanna plan to meet up and work on the project?” she asked as she packed her notebook away into her bog, periodically looking up and back at you as she undid the zipper. You were surprised by the offer, and it delayed your response. 

“Um. Yeah, I guess we can,” you mumbled, feeling fidgety under the attention. She gave you that sparkly smile that she gave everyone when she looked back up at you, bag hung over her shoulder. 

“Great! You free this afternoon?” you were surprised she seemed so eager to get working. You awkwardly nodded and felt your heart begin beating faster as she walked towards you. 

“Don’t you have soccer practice, though?” you said quickly, shuffling ever so slightly away from her. She now stood right across from you by the door. Having her attention like this was strange, and you could only describe it as anxiety-inducing. 

“Shit, you’re right. I completely forgot about that,” she laughed, and you felt your stomach drop. “Well, we could always make Saturday work as long as-” she began babbling on about something you didn’t feel like you needed to know about to the point that you began feeling nauseated. 

“Hey, can we plan this tomorrow, maybe? I’ve gotta go,” you interrupted, lying through your teeth with your skin itching to get away. Jackie stopped what she was saying, and for a fleeting second, it looked like her smile had faded. 

“Oh, yeah. We’ll talk tomorrow then,” you'd already begun leaving before she could finish calling goodbye, which you knew was rude, but all you could think was how you had to get away. Which was even stranger considering she had been acting so nice! Jackie had never been nice to you. Well, Jackie had never been anything to you before. Why was her being nice so startling? You wracked your brain over it all as you hustled into the library to hide among the bookshelves. 

You could finally take a real breath when you found a secluded table tucked away in the corner of the library, nestled in with all of the books but by a window, which let a nice stream of light bask down onto the table. You arranged your things, found a few books on your project topic, and got to work, reading and periodically scribbling down notes as you ate the lunch you’d packed that morning. You’d stay there through lunch and into your free study hall period. Getting your study hall directly after lunch had to have been some kind of godsent. 

You’d gotten into a real groove or taking your notes. By now, you had to have nearly three pages, front and back, filled with different tidbits you could mention in your project. You’d lost track of time and your surroundings as you listened to your walkman while working. You were only shaken out of your little bubble when you heard a strong, purposeful throat-clearing beside you. You looked up to see Jackie standing over you with a few books in hand. You stared wide-eyed, forgetting about your headphones. That is, till the blonde scrunched her brow and gestured for you to take them off. You did, muttering your apology as the headphones hung around your neck. 

“I see you got started,” she chuckled again. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar after saying you’d had enough sweets for the day. Your eyes faltered away, down to your notes, as the grip on your pencil tightened. 

“Uh, yeah. I have a free period, so I thought I might as well,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the corner of your paper, folding it into itself. 

“Oh! Me too” She paused, looking around as though someone might see despite the table being tucked out of most people's way. “Well, mind if I sit? You could share what you’ve started, and we could make a gameplan,” She suggested. Given your current situation and the way you’d practically run from her earlier, you had no reason to decline, so you nodded, moving some of your things out of the way. She sat down at the other side of the table, but not directly across from you, more so diagonal. Maybe she could feel your apprehension about working for you. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide how you felt, but thinking she might know didn’t help the nauseating feeling in your gut. 

Calling the following interaction awkward would be an understatement. You had zero desire to integrate with Jackie outside of class, and she couldn’t seem to get the hint. Or maybe she did and was just choosing to ignore what you thought was your evident desire to be left alone. She started reading the books she’d picked up and writing her notes like you had been doing. But every time she read something that seemed noteworthy, she’d double check if you’d read and written that down already. It got to the point that you eventually just gave her your notebook to write in so she could read what you'd written down already and stop interrupting your reading.  

She seemed disappointed by this, but she didn’t voice it or argue. Unsteady, you spent the rest of the hour sitting at the same table, silently reading over textbooks. She didn’t attempt conversation till the bell rang, and you both had to pack up and go to class again. She started by offering you your notebook back, but she pointed out something she’s specifically written down when she handed it to you. 

“It’s my address. How about we meet up tomorrow at noon? My dad will be out golfing, and my mom’s got book club, so we’ll have quiet to work on the project. If that works for you, of course,” she seemed rather eager at the idea as she patiently waited for your reply. You paused for a moment, staring at her annoyingly near handwriting and her address till you relented. 

“Yeah, sure. Noon tomorrow” you agreed with a nod. She seemed to smile slightly more and nodded quickly. 

“Noon tomorrow,” she repeated, taking a step back as she moved to leave. “I’m already looking forward to it,” You watched her go with her little wave and had to refrain from rolling your eyes. You had a bad, nauseating feeling about tomorrow already. 

-🐇-

All you could do was stand outside the Taylor’s house, staring up at the two-story with wide eyes, regretting ever letting yourself get into this situation. Something felt so wrong about you walking towards the house, so much so that you contemplated turning tail and leaving. That is till Jackie opened the door, beckoning you inside. It was too late to back out now, so you begrudgingly made your way up the lawn. 

“I’m glad you made it,” she began as you walked into the house, you noticed her lack of shoes, so you took yours off, leaving them behind by the door. “Oh, thank you for that! I completely forgot to mention it, and my mother would kill me,” she joked. You forced a smile and hummed but gave her no reaction beyond that. She paused and took a breath, murmuring a quiet ‘right’ before taking you upstairs. 

“I thought we’d work in my room unless you'd rather go in the living room since no one's home,” You shrugged, eyes glancing around the house as you followed her. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you dryly said as she sat down on her bed, pulling out her schoolwork as she sat with her legs crossed against the pillows. You hesitated, standing in the middle of your room with your bag in hand. 

“You can come and sit over here if you like,” she chuckled, patting the space in front of her on the bed. After a pause, you did as instructed, sitting at the foot of the bed with your bag beside you. You began to rummage around, pulling out your notebook, pencils, and textbook. 

“I can get you something to drink or a snack if you like,” she offered. She was fidgeting with her pencil and notebook open over her lap, but she hadn’t started writing anything yet. 

“I’m alright,” you began flipping through your notes, not looking up. 

“Ok, well. Do you have any thoughts on how you wanna do this or…”

“I thought I’d write the paper, and you do the visuals,” You replied as though this was the most obvious course of action. Jackie stared at you for a moment till she nodded. 

“Yeah,” her voice cracked as she tucked hair behind her ear, looking around the room. “Yeah, tha works for me,” looking up from your notebook, you noticed the way she bit the inside of her cheek. 

“Y’know what? I’m gonna get something to snack on anyways,” she said it more like she was telling herself than she was you. You watched her leave like she was in a rush, leaving you alone in her room. Immediately you felt uncomfortable with the situation, so you pulled out your Walkman and began listening to that while you scribbled away in your notes, getting yourself started on the final paper. 

Jackie didn’t return for some time, but when she did, she was carrying a big bowl of popcorn with her that she set on the bed after sitting down again. She watched you expectantly but didn’t say a word till you took your headphones off. 

“You want some?” she gestured to the bowl. You shook your head. 

“No, I’m fine,” you turned your attention back to the paper. “But thanks,” you remembered to add at the end. The next hour was relatively quiet as you both worked. You’d made a decent dent in the paper, and Jackie had started sketching a mock-up of the visual display. She’d handed you her notes to get your opinion, and you simply nodded, telling her it was good and to go ahead. In all honesty, after that, you saw little point in working together anymore. You could easily write the paper at home while she worked on the presentation, right? 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get going,” you started. She looked up, confused. 

“But we only just got started,” she began to argue. You felt yourself grow uncomfortable with her seeming eagerness for you to stay. 

“Well, I can work on this at home. We don’t need to be together after all,” 

“But isn’t it good to work together? Like, to have a soundboard or whatever?” She stood up suddenly and began rummaging for something around the room. Growing alarm clawed at your throat, and you turned around in your seat on the bed to keep your eye on her. “It’s a group project, after all!” She was growing more impatient, and you couldn’t distinguish why. 

“Yeah, but it's not a huge deal-” she turned around to face you again, her hair aggressively swishing as she faced you with a distressed look.

“You really can’t stand me that much?” she yelped, genuinely sounding hurt. You froze, paralyzed with no idea what to do. You’d never imagine that Jackie, of all people, would care about what you thought of her. You didn’t think Jackie cared about anyone’s opinion, let alone you! 

“I never said I didn’t like you-” 

“Well, it’s obvious you don’t!” she interrupted. She looked like she might be on the verge of tears as she began pacing the room. You started to panic.

“No, it isn’t!” you knew it was a terrible retort, but what else could you say? So you got onto the defensive. “But why would you even care if I didn’t like you? I’m nobody!” your voice faltered, and you cringed with embarrassment. You had no idea what was going on or how you even got into this situation. Jackie was nearly and tears, and you found you were too, and you thought you might throw up on the spot from the grinding, nauseating feeling twisting your gut. Jackie sniffled, wiping her nose. But at least she’d stopped pacing and now stood facing you. The sound and motion drew your attention back in.

“You’re not nobody,” her voice was almost pitiful. She sheepishly met your eyes, biting her lip. She was considering something, but you couldn’t tell what. You felt afraid under her gaze. 

“Yes, I am,” was all you could say back. You picked at the skin of your thumbs, hoping the motion could calm your racing heart. “I doubt you even knew my name before we had this class together,” 

“Well, I did, actually,” there was a heavy pout in her voice. She caved and walked back to the bed, sitting in the space you'd previously occupied but scooted from when she’d stood up. She was almost unbearably close. “I’ve known about you since seventh grade,” only when she said that did you look up at her. Her gaze was soft yet almost timid. It seemed unnatural for her, given her constant air of confidence.

“You got that writing award at that assembly we had with the whole school at the beginning of the year. Most people who were getting awards were eighth graders,” she seemed to recall it fondly. “But I remember how you walked across that stage with that huge smile to take that award from the principal. You didn’t look nervous or afraid. Just happy to be getting that award,” you were stunned she even remembered that day. You barely even remembered it yourself, now that you thought about it. 

“But so what? What about that makes me liking you matter so much?” 

“I dunno, maybe because of your nice or something?” She was getting upset again. Her face was red with frustration, and she kept dramatically sighing and scoffing. And you weren’t sure what caused it, and you knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but you laughed. It started as a chuckle, but then it turned into full blow, hysterically tear-inducing laughter. You knew it was wrong, and you expected her to slap you in the face, but she didn’t. 

After her initial shock, you heard a snicker, and then she, too, laughed. And as you heard her laugh ring you, you realized it was like a song that you wanted to be stuck in your head. And unlike what you may have anticipated, it didn’t scare you anymore. You managed to quiet and subside your fit of giggles, thumbing away tears that brimmed your eyes from the pressure, a smile still waving over your lips. Jackie appeared the same, but she looked away again, that shy blush water-coloring her cheeks as she smiled. 

“I just really want you to like me, but I can’t explain why,” she managed to say finally, looking back up at you. She’d gotten closer again when you were distracted. You could almost feel her breath fanning over your face as she bit her lip in silent consideration. 

“I do like you,” you managed to say, eyes unconsciously wandering down to her lips, then flashing back to her eyes out of fear of being caught. But though you expected scorn, you were met with excitement in her eyes, followed by a tilt of her head, and then all at once, her eyes shut, and her lips were on yours, tentative and curious. Anxiety told you to pull away, but frozen in surprise, you found you couldn’t. Instead, you sat, eyes wide as you practically vibrated in anticipation, though you dared not move. It was the same kind of excitement and anxiety you’d feel trying to get close to a wild rabbit. The slightest wrong move, and it would surely run. 

But Jackie didn’t run. She did pull away, but she didn’t stray. She watched with a squeezing apprehension on her face, expecting to have a mess to clean up on her hands. You were left completely speechless, terrified she’d regret her actions immediately and make you leave, and she’d never speak to you again. But again, Jackie didn’t run, and she didn’t make you either. 

“Say something,” she tried to state, but it came out more like a plead. You scanned her face and did the only thing you could think of in your hazy state. You took her hand, which sat behind you, holding her up as she leaned into you and took her lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you kissed her, you felt her smile, with the sound of a muffled chuckle. 

Her fingers from her free hand eventually grazed over your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear before wrapping wound the small of your neck to toy with the baby hairs that grew there. When you pulled away, she adjusted so she was practically in your lap with how close she was. Her arms looped lazily over your shoulders and around your neck as she played with your hair, looking you over dreamily. 

“My mother would end me if she found out about this,” she giggled, clearly enjoying her little silent rebellion. 

“You like girls?” was the only thing you could think, and of course, that’s what your big mouth had to blurt out. You immediately cringed, squeezing your eyes shut and resisting the urge to slap yourself in the face. But fortunately, she laughed that lovely laugh you’d begun to grow fond of. 

“It seems like I do,” she attempted to sound coy in her reply. “And it sounds like you look like girls, too,” she added. You looked at her again and relaxed with a smile, rolling your eyes. 

“I thought that had been obvious since freshman year,” Jackie shook her head. 

“I mean, not to me,” 

“Oh, so you didn’t pick the gay girl to try out kissing girls?” You'd grown confident out of nowhere and smirked. Jackie’s cheeks flushed again, and her jaw dropped in mock shock as she tried suppressing a laugh in her throat. In a moment of mock irritation, she shoved your shoulders, gently knocking you onto your back, meeting the duvet cover of her bed in a fit of amused giggles. Without a fleeting consideration, she sat on top of you, her thighs on either side of your hips as her hands pressed against your chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning as you looked up at her. Her brows raised, eyes wide as she realized the position she’d put herself in, that pink blush in her face turning bright red.

“Well, look who’s miss confidence now, huh?” you couldn’t resist the tease. Your restraint had gone out the window with this new understanding of your feelings. Your irritation and avoidance of Jackie Taylor had only been a poorly placed front for your real feelings. You’d been smitten with her for years now but refused to look at it in the right lighting. She scrunched her nose and tried to frown, but the corners of her lips kept flickering upwards in amusement as you grinned, which only egged her on more. So she did the only thing she could think. She leaned in again, wiping that smirk away with her lips. 

[gingerbreadmonsters]

cherry leather looker

or: you're a car, you're a woman, you're a drug!

gn!reader, explicit nsfw, vincent-typical after-school shenanigans. bank me like a millionaire, baby! it’s time for some last-minute summer fun, so you know what that means… my vincent is chinese, so don’t be surprised that he’s got a bit more physical description than i usually go in for. for the wonderful rae @sri-rachaa, mutual of my heart everything i do is for her - happy birthday gorgeous girlie!! all my love, and hope you’re having a fab day <3 inspired by��sugar soaker by panic! at the disco, and i wonder if you can guess why…? vincent going off-road in just over 5300 words.

i’m aware that the byline implies fem!lovely, but that’s just because that’s how the song goes lol - lovely here is entirely gender neutral, and their body (including their, um, hardware) is basically not described at all.

this fic contains explicit nsfw content, and is very, very 18+. reader discretion is advised. minors dni. thank you. 

Ugh.

Studying.

Exams aren’t coming up for a while yet, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean you don’t have to study. DAMN loves to pile the work on, latent humanborns be damned, and it’s an absolute nightmare once deadlines start to roll around.

“Lovely!”

Sam’s been tutoring you every Friday for a few months now, keeping you hostage once a week for an hour or two after classes, and it’s awful. He’s not bad at it, he’s just kind of boring, you know? He’s so good at this stuff that he doesn’t really know how to teach it very well, so he ends up doing that infuriating thing where he just reads stuff out of the textbook, nods like of course you’ll have understood that, and moves onto the next thing. It’s infuriating!

You’ve got to be at his place in, like, twenty minutes - normally Vincent would come and pick you up, but he’s got some meeting in town with a client, so Sam’s coming to get you instead. It’s not fair! When Vincent comes to pick you up, he always lets you choose the music, and he brings one of the cars that’s fast enough to get you there in half the time, so he can make out with you in the back seat for ten minutes before you have to go. Sam? Uh, no thanks, for several reasons. Long story short, you’re really not looking forward to studying with him tonight-

“Tianxin!”

…Wait, what?

The car park isn’t full, but it’s certainly not empty. It must be, what, about half twelve? Quarter to one? You’ve just come out of your Introductory Mental Disciplines lecture and your brain is kind of fried - Professor Albright’s a wonderful teacher, but he can be a little… intense, to put it lightly - so it’s not exactly a surprise that it takes you a minute to figure out where that voice is coming from.

“Lovely! Over here!”

Hazard lights flash behind you, and a good handful of other students turn with you to see - ah. Yeah, okay. You really should have known. Vincent Solaire, the picture of romance, big round sunglasses perched amid gracefully-dishevelled hair, waving madly from the driver’s seat of a very red, very shiny, very expensive convertible.

“Get in!”

Well, he certainly doesn’t have to tell you twice.

He’s already got his foot on the pedal as you slam the door shut, chucking your backpack over onto the back seat, and he pulls you in for a breathless kiss while clumsy hands fumble with your seatbelt. As soon as he hears it click, that’s it - before you really know what’s going on, you’re racing out of the car park and down the road out of town, music all the way up and pedal all the way down.

“How did - where-” You’re still a bit dizzy from the speed of it all - how the hell is he here? “What happened to your meeting?”

“Got Alexis to do it,” he says breezily, one hand reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror before slipping down to sit high on your thigh. “I just about stopped Fred catching her and Christian having some fun in the dining room after the clan meeting a few weeks ago, so she owes me one.”

Ah. That would explain why Vincent couldn’t keep a straight face when Sam’s mate had asked if he knew why the dining room table was away for repairs the other day. You don’t really want to know what he told them.

“Actually, that reminds me!” Regrettably, he takes his hand off you to put his sunglasses on properly - only Vincent would be caught wearing sunglasses at night unironically, just because they look cool, baby, look! He does an awkward sort of wriggle as he fishes his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, tossing it lightly into your lap. “Can you check if it’s on silent, please?”

“Yeah, hold on. It’s… no, it’s not.” It only takes a few seconds - you offer it back to him, but he shakes his head, so you just put it in the centre console. “Why?”

“Because…” Vincent’s grin gets impossibly bigger, laughing as you race down the A-road that leads into the woods surrounding Dahlia. “I’d know that old thing a mile away. Say hello, lovely!”

He flashes the hazards again, sticking two fingers in his mouth for a piercing wolf-whistle before flipping off the truck going the other w- hold on, that’s Sam’s truck, why’s he heading out now if you’re meant to be-

“Better luck next time, old man!” Vincent shouts over his shoulder, and there’s that vampire hearing - true to form, his phone lights up with an incoming call, the familiar piano loud as it vibrates. “Finders keepers!”

Twisting round in your seat, you laugh as Sam’s truck disappears when you turn the corner, leaning over to kiss Vincent’s temple partly in shock, but mostly in elation. “Breaking me out of prison, hmm?”

“For you, baobei?” He threads his fingers between yours, that lovesick look you know so wonderfully well, gently pulling your hand to press his lips to your wrist. “I’m stealing you all for myself.”

His other hand flicks the left indicator on, which is a bit of a surprise. Isn’t home in the other direction? “Are we not…?”

He scoffs theatrically, and it’s unfair that he can make it sound so cute. “Going home? No. What’d you wanna do that for?” Your phone starts buzzing, Sam clearly having given up on Vincent answering, but you both ignore it. “I thought we could, uh, go on a little adventure tonight. Just us.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” He flushes slightly at your tone, cheeks slowly turning pink, and your smile widens as he deliberately avoids your eyes in the mirror. “Last time we went ‘adventuring’, we ended up fucking up the suspension so much that even you said you were gonna have to pay someone to fix it. Sure you wanted to bring this car?”

“I - you-!” Flustered, he stabs clumsily at the centre console, pointedly turning the volume up even as his blush deepens and deepens with your wicked laughter. “ Just- just pick a song!”

The drive isn’t too long, all things considered - it’s only about an hour, maybe a bit more. It’s not like the roads are all that busy at 1am, you know? At first, you’re not really sure where he might be taking you, but about twenty minutes in he turns down onto the coast road, and it clicks.

“At this hour? It’ll be freezing!” He really thinks he’s slick, doesn’t he? And okay, yeah, he kind of is, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Got to keep him on his toes, after all.

“Mmm, it will be, won’t it?” Up ahead, the lights turn red at the junction. Ever a man of opportunity, he wastes no time - the car’s barely stopped before he’s kissing you, one hand under your jaw and the other sliding down to rub teasingly over your hip. “Gonna keep - nnng - gonna keep me warm, lovely?”

“Haahh-” Soft, always so soft. Pulling slightly against your seatbelt, closer closer closer - ooh, is that strawberry chapstick? Between the fizz of his hands on your skin and the sweetness of his mouth against yours, it’s kind of hard to come up with a coherent response. “Yeah, mmm, yeah, just- hm?”

Unfortunately, he breaks what was shaping up to be a very nice kiss as a motorbike speeds past, straight over the junction. Oh. Right, yeah, the traffic lights. You’d sort of forgotten about that. Thank goodness there’s nobody else behind you. Vincent’s gaze meets yours, washed in green light, lips already slightly pinker than normal - you’re so tempted to ask if you can pull over. Come on, nobody’s looking. Just for five minutes?

(Well, maybe ten. Fifteen. Twenty? Maybe just a bit longer-)

The glovebox clicking open knocks you out of your pleasant reverie, watching Vincent rifle awkwardly through the mess of CD cases before extracting a half-empty bottle of chewing gum.

“Want some?” He rattles the jar towards you, popping two in his mouth before grimacing in surprise. “Wait, this-”

Pushing his sunglasses back up into his hair, he looks properly at the label this time, and you’re not saying his age is catching up to him, but… “Fuck, I forgot I ran out of strawberry.” Undeterred, he takes a third one before handing you the bottle, stepping on the pedal as you put it back in the glovebox. “I think it’s spearmint? Peppermint? Oh, I don’t know - the one Lexi had the other day.”

“Did she get it for you?” You’re surprised. When Alexis and Vincent buy things for each other, they’re normally one of two things: specifically designed to make the other’s life noticeably worse, or costing at least several thousand dollars. Somehow, you doubt that this particular jar of chewing gum was either of those things, but Alexis Solaire is nothing if not full of surprises.

“Nah. Nicked it off her desk,” he declares, looking far too pleased with himself as he flicks the indicator down. “She likes that awful cinnamon-flavoured shit more anyway, so really I’m doing her a favour.”

(Yeah, okay. That sounds more like the pair of them. You won’t mention the industrial-sized roll of tin foil that you saw her and Christian dragging into Vincent’s room at Will’s house.)

Humming along to the CD player, he turns off down one of the side roads - you know the sort, one of those that’s not really a road at all, just a sort of gap in the hedgerow. It’s just dirt, and it’s kind of bumpy, but it gives Vincent an excuse to go and fuss over his precious paintwork, so he’s fine with it. Sam complains about it every time he comes down here, but that’s what you get when the suspension on your truck is practically prehistoric, isn’t it?

“Wanna go inside for a bit? Or straight out to the back?”

“Uh…” As nice as the house is - and make no mistake, it’s really nice - you’d rather get straight to it. It’s not everyday you get to spend some time at a place like this. “Straight through?”

“Sure.”

The house belongs to William, but it’s not associated with the business as one of the actual, like, ‘Solaire Properties’. Really, it’s just for family or clan stuff - you’ve been down here several times before, mostly for birthdays or celebrations or whatever. Vincent’s never gone into too much detail, but from what you’ve heard about William’s life before the whole rich-vampire-king palaver, he’s always liked the sea. He loved it from afar, as Vincent puts it, but you gather that he never really had much of a chance to enjoy it.

That’s why he bought this place, apparently - a long-held dream fulfilled, and you’re not going to begrudge him that. It’s not very easy for vampires to really do beach holidays. Good on him for finding a convenient (if eye-wateringly expensive) way to do it.

(When she’d mentioned it to you the first time, Alexis had called it a nice little summer house. Your definitions of ‘nice’ and ‘little’ clearly aren’t quite the same. For starters, you probably wouldn’t include a multi-million dollar beachfront property in one of the most beautiful places on the California coast, but apparently that just shows how much you know. Turns out the dollar really is almighty, and William Solaire certainly has a lot of them.)

“Hope you brought your swimsuit, baby,” he says innocently, fiddling with his phone and unlocking the gates. His wry grin betrays him, though - he forgets every time that you can still see him in the rearview mirror. “Water’s nice, this time of year.”

“You little…” Oh, he’s going to be for it in a minute. “Who on earth do you know that brings a swimsuit to a Dreamwalking lecture?”

“My lovely, caught unaware? Surely not!” He gasps in faux surprise, now not even trying to hide the smirk spreading across his face. “I reckon you had this planned, you know.”

“Yeah?” This should be good. “And how did I do that, hmm?”

“Oh, it’s very simple,” he proclaims, free hand gracefully pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them in his shirt pocket as he turns down the drive. “You’ve lured me out here with your effortless charm and stunning good looks, with the promise of getting to take a swim all alone with my gorgeous lovely, only to turn on your heel and deprive me of the one thing I’ve been looking forward to all week.“ It’s unfair how cute that stupid pout of his is, sighing plaintively as he laments your supposed scheming. "You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

“Am I, now?” It’s always fun, playing along with him. “I’m sorry, my love,” you say mournfully, leaning across to press a kiss to his cheek and smiling as he tries not to blush. “However could I make it up to you?”

“Well, I do know one way we could make this work…” he says, valiantly ignoring the flush slowly spreading across his face at the absolutely shameless once-over he gives you. “I mean, you don’t have to be wearing anyth- hey!”

“Nice try, loverboy,” you announce, haughtily settling your newly-acquired sunglasses atop your head. “Like hell you’re getting me in there with nothing on - it’s fucking freezing!”

Vincent sighs, plaintive and airy, like it being 1am and pitch-black outside shouldn’t matter. Ooh, he’s lucky he’s so pretty. “Too bad, sha gua, too bad. Guess I’ll have to find some other way to get you w- okay! I’m st- I’m stopping!”

Bastard. One-handed, he bats away your hands from his hair as he pulls up by the sand, fingers flexing on the wheel when you manage to get just close enough to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Rude.” He huffs, giving you that stupid, cute pout that really shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “I thought that was pretty good, actually.”

You give him a look. “I’m not sure pick-up lines have ever been - hey - waitwaitwait!”

You’re never going to be used to that vampire strength, are you? The angle is ridiculous, but his hands lock around your waist before you can protest, and somehow he manages to manoeuvre you over the centre console and into his lap without too much fuss.

Vincent opens his mouth, smug as anything, but he only manages a sort of garbled half-noise before your hand quickly shuts him up.

“That does not count as a pick-up line!”

He stares, cross-eyed, down at your hand for a surprised second, before petulantly trying to lick your palm in retaliation. Luckily, you’re wise to his tricks by now - you pull your hand away just in time and fix him with the best glare you can muster, although it’s probably undercut by the fact that you’re trying really hard not to laugh.

Undeterred, he smirks up at you, brushing the hair out of his face with a satisfied flourish.

“Yeah, but you thought it was hot.”

Fuck. He’s right. You stutter into an excuse for a second, but it doesn’t come - instead, you just slide your hands up his chest, over his shoulders and up to his jaw, before just leaning down and kissing him. It always works.

True to form, he melts into your touch, letting you kiss the mint-flavoured smirk right off his face with a pleased sigh. Quick fingers twist into the fabric of your shirt, and you’re just running your tongue over his bottom lip when-

“Wait - just - just a sec-”

He pulls back unexpectedly, reaching over and fumbling around in the glovebox for a second, one hand holding your hip to keep you balanced in his lap, before extricating an old receipt. Neatly, he drops his gum into the paper, folding it in half to stick it to itself before depositing it into the cupholder to throw away later.

“Okay!” He grins up at you, blindingly beautiful, and you almost have to blink away the sunspots in your eyes. “Where were we, again?”

This time, you don’t bother trying to hide your laugh - instead, you just muffle it in his shoulder, letting him nip affectionately at your neck against the gentle sound of waves lapping at the sand. “Hate you.”

“Yeah,” he replies airily, and you don’t need to look to see his smile. “Hate you too.”

You pull back and he ducks his head slightly to kiss you again, tongue brushing lightly against your lip until you tilt your head slightly to - yeah, that’s a better angle. Vaguely, you’re aware of him guiding your legs around his waist, and you can feel him standing up and getting out of the car, but most of it is forgotten as the warm haze of his kisses swirls through your brain and makes your fingers go all tingly.

Although your eyes are closed, you can tell that he’s walking somewhere from the movement of his body against you, the sound of sand under his feet, but where’s he going? Into the house? Cracking one eye open, you can see the dark shape of the garage in front of you - so he’s heading towards the water, then. Wait, but why would he - oh, no fucking way-

“Mm - mmf!” Swallowing a giggle at his stunned face, you wriggle out of his arms with a sharp twist and a burst of vampiric speed, before turning and scrambling away across the sand. Shocked, he’s not quite quick enough to grab your arm as you dodge out of the way, and he laughs in surprise as you make him chase you further and further towards the sea.

“Oh, I don’t - I don’t think so-!”

“Catch me if you can!”

As fast as you’re going, it’s basically no distance at all until you’re splashing into the shallow water. Spray kicks up around your ankles, soaking into your shoes and socks, but it can’t weigh you down. You dance out of his way regardless, heart pounding giddily as adrenaline rushes through your body, dipping your hand down to flick water at him whenever he looks in danger of getting slightly too close.

“Still - fuck! - still too slow!” He almost manages to snatch the back of your shirt, and you stick your tongue out at his wounded expression as you back up into the slightly deeper water. “See, I told you I was faster…”

“You - get - get back here!”

He lunges for your waist, but he’s too slow - with a splash, he topples through the space where you used to be and goes face first into the freezing water. Luckily, it’s deep enough that he doesn’t just hit the ground, and you wade gingerly towards him as your body starts to register the cold.

“Lovely!” Spitting out a mouthful of seawater, you’re met with the distinctly-bedraggled shape of a very wet Vincent Solaire, blinking the salt out of his eyes. The shock of the cold water forces the breath out of him, but for some reason it can’t make him any less unfairly attractive. You don’t bother to hide your satisfied smirk at the sight of him raking his soaked hair out of his face with one hand, white t-shirt now slightly see-through and clinging to his chest.

“You - you!” he gasps, pointing accusingly at you with as stern a glare as he can muster. “Oh, when I get my hands on you, I-”

He’s cut off by your gleeful kiss, throwing yourself through the waist-deep water at him and knowing that he’ll catch you. Mmm, he’s such a sucker.

“Yeah?” you say between kisses. “You’ll what?”

“I…”

After a pause, he shrugs half-heartedly and gives in to let you kiss him again. “Probably - mmm - yeah, uh, probably that…”

Moonlight sparkles on the water as he clutches you tighter, drinking in the familiar taste of you. Cold currents come and go, but neither of you really notice, far too swept up in each other for it to matter - besides, the warmth of his body against yours is more than enough to keep you happy.

After a little while, he moves to kiss slowly down your neck, leaning you back slightly in his arms to get a better angle. Your fingers tangle in his hair, dark and dripping, and he sighs happily against your skin when you pull slightly, just the way he likes.

“Tianshi…” he murmurs, fangs digging gently into your skin because he knows it makes you shiver. “You shouldn’t tease, you know.”

“Mm, you started it,” you reply. “Whose good idea was it to go swimming in the middle of the night, again?”

“Hm.” You can feel him pouting, muttering quietly into your shoulder. “Like ‘m giving up my lovely for some stupid tutoring.”

He makes a good point. This is much nicer than whatever boring textbook questions Sam was supposed to be making you do right now. In your magnificent generosity, you reward your saviour with a benevolent kiss to his temple, before your hand trails down over his neck, his shoulder, across his-

“Did you-?”

“Hm?” Tilting back just a little, he looks down at himself like he’s as surprised as you are that his shirt has disappeared. “Oh, yeah.”

Biting back a laugh, you smack his arm with a quiet slap. “Now who’s the tease?”

“What? Do you like wearing wet jeans?” he asks smugly, smirking as he hears your heart speed up - the dark water comes up to about his waist, so you dread to think what other bits of clothing he’s got rid of while you weren’t looking. “That’s what I thought.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, patting him on the shoulder in consolation. “Remind me to send him flowers when we get back.”

“Who said he taught me? You don’t know! I could’ve, um-”

His cry of indignance is swiftly cut off by your flat stare. You know exactly where he got this from. After a brief stand-off, he sighs in apparent defeat, bending down slightly to scoop you up so that he’s properly carrying you. “Yeah, it was Gavin.”

“Knew it!” you sing, cheerfully kicking your legs as he starts to walk back out of the water, up towards the sand. “You think I haven’t seen him trying it with Freelancer before?”

He pretends to sulk, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “And here I thought you were looking at me…” The sand crunches quietly underfoot as he carries you towards the car, and the slight breeze is pleasantly cool against your warm skin. “What do I have to do to get your attention, hm?”

Sneaking a downwards glance, you raise an eyebrow. Turns out he wasn’t lying about the jeans. “I could think of a few things.”

“Only a few?” He scoffs, before leaning down to press his fangs to that sweet spot just under your jaw. “Keep up, tianxin, and you’ll get more than that.”

A burst of magic fizzles over your body, warm and crackling shivers from head to toe. Before you can blink, you’re both completely dry, and one look at him tells you exactly what you need to know - ooh, he’s been practising that one. He preens under your gaze, tossing his head proudly to flick his now-dry hair back out of his eyes.

God. He’s so pretty.

The walk back to the car isn’t far, but he doesn’t put you down - instead, he opts to lean down and lay you gently back against the hood, kissing you down against the warm, smooth metal. Back arched slightly over his arm, it’s a little uncomfortable, so you have to shift around a little bit in order to-

“Mmm…”

Maybe he thinks it was on purpose, or maybe he knows and he just doesn’t care - whatever the case, he rocks his hips back down to meet you, and that’s when you notice that he’s got rid of your clothes, too.

“Haah - Vincent!”

He doesn’t even have the good grace to look appropriately chastised at your muffled shout, just grabbing your wrists before you can try to slap his side and pinning them above your head with a devilish smile. Any protest you may have had quickly disappears when he grinds against you, thin cotton all that separates you, melting into a soft moan that drips off your fangs and runs down your chin.

“What - nnng! - what’s the matter, lovely?” he says, breathless. “Having second thoughts about your study session?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Lost in the heat and the hardness of him, it’s getting more and more difficult to put words together. “Think you - mmm, think you should persuade me…”

You don’t have to tell him twice - the world blurs around you as he lifts you up, depositing you on the passenger seat as he slips down to kneel in the footwell, and you hastily grab his shoulder in surprise as he presses the little button on the seat, sliding it back to give himself a little more room.

“We have - fuck! We have a bed in - inside!” Your half-hearted protests go ignored in favour of strong hands impatiently tearing the rest of your clothes away, shredded fabric littering the floor beside him. God, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

He lifts one dark eyebrow, challenging, although he can’t quite keep his eyes on your face. “You want me to wait?”

“No, no, this is - no, this is fine-!”

Words melt away as he eagerly grabs your hips, pulling you forwards to the edge of the seat and burying his face in you with a long, drawn-out moan. Mmm, he really doesn’t waste any time - your fingers unconsciously find their way back into his hair again, twisting and tugging with every flick of his tongue, sloppy, sticky kisses that make your cheeks burn and your insides twist with need. Your nails digging into his scalp only seem to encourage him, wonderfully warm as he licks a slow, burning trail all the way down before speeding back up until you’re shuddering in his enthusiastic hold.

“I - oh, I - ahhh…”

Almost too fast for you to notice, a tiny burst of magic swirls around his fingers - oh, you definitely remember Gavin teaching him that one. Gently, he eases his middle finger into you, stretching you ever so sweetly, and you have to clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle what you’re sure would be an embarrassingly loud whine.

“Baby…” Vincent clearly disagrees, though, nudging your legs up over his shoulders and nipping at the soft inside of your thigh in disappointed reprimand. “Wanna hear!”

A graceful hand runs blindly up your body to tug your hand away from your mouth, depositing it firmly back in his hair where it belongs. You can’t complain - and even if you wanted to, the high-pitched keen that fills your mouth as a second finger slips inside you leaves no room for objection.

It doesn’t help that even like this, he’s still so fucking beautiful - crescent-moon eyes closed, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you, achingly hard but refusing to let go of you even for a second. Your head falls back against the headrest, back bowing as you roll your hips slightly, and the change in angle lets his fingertips press just right - fuck, just right against that spot inside you that makes your breath stick in your chest and your eyes go all blurry.

“Yeah?” The look he gives you is wicked, filthy grin all smeared and sticky. Fuck, he sounds absolutely wrecked, words lazy and languid as he kisses the words into you. “Right there, xingan?”

You nod frantically, nails scraping harsh lines into the tanned skin of his shoulders. He hisses with the pleasurable sting, and you watch them fade and heal over almost as fast as you can make them. “Mm-hmm, mmm, yeah-!”

It’s too much - deft fingers curling and stroking, the vibrations of his voice thrumming over you, all warm and wet and messy. Fuck, it feels like your whole body is burning, trembling in his grip, skinbuzzing like a livewire. The leather underneath you sticks and catches as you writhe under Vincent’s attention, and a flood of heat rushes through you at the reminder that you’re just out here in the open, entirely at his mercy.

“I - oh, fuck,” you gasp out, curved forwards over him as your body greedily tries to pull him impossibly closer. “It - ahh, it’s-”

“I know, baby - I know,” he chokes out, sounding almost as desperate as you feel. “Come on, come on, lovely - nng, please!” Mouth full, sentences all slurring together as he buries himself in you, it’s enough to make you wail with each breath, the delicious stretch of his fingers and the sharp tease of his fangs. “Please, want it, I wanna see-”

He strokes his thumb over your thigh, silent question obvious as he looks pleadingly up at you - you must nod, or tell him yes, yes of course, because the next thing you know is the white-hot ecstasy of the bite, needy and glittering, and all of a sudden you’re falling apart. Legs trembling, eyes slammed shut as you sob through your orgasm, all you know is the familiar kiss of Vincent’s mouth on you, strong hands trailing warm, comforting patterns over your skin, and the distant sound of your own cries.

For a long moment, you’re floating, a joyful balloon on a satisfied string. Vincent takes you in his hands with a soft smile, and slowly pulls you back down to earth.

When you finally blink back to yourself, you’re slumped loose and heavy over Vincent’s shoulder, flopped forwards against where he’s kneeling up in front of your seat. He hums quietly as he feels you stir, one hand smoothing comforting circles into your back, and you nestle your face into the side of his neck with a pleased sigh.

“Back with me, baobei?”

“Mm,” you say eloquently. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He kisses the side of your head before tenderly nudging you backwards a little bit, giving himself a bit more room to clamber out of the footwell. He almost manages it, too - the effect is ruined slightly when he trips over the lip of the floor, stumbling awkwardly into the open door and nearly smacking his face against the handle, and you giggle at the indignant glare he shoots at the side of the car.

“Ooh. Smooth.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he grumbles, though there’s no heat behind it. “Only the best for you, xiaogongju.”

You take his offered hand with a flourish, letting him guide you up and out of the seat and onto shaky legs - after a few steps, he decides to take matters into his own hands and just lifts you up into his arms like a bride, your head back on his shoulder. From here, you gaze idly out at the dark line where the sky brushes the sea, just barely visible even to your enhanced eyes, and let yourself rest in the gentle sound of the waves.

(A quick look back shows you - oh, that’s going to be a bitch to clean out of the leather. Whatever. It was worth it.)

“Love you,” you murmur through your hazy smile, fingers brushing back and forth over the dips and hollows of his collarbone. “Gonna get you back later.”

“Love you too, baby.” Waves lapping at the sand, salt and heat and happiness, the chill of the breeze. “I look forward to it already.”

He catches your lips in a short kiss, sweet and soft and painted in moonlight. Vincent carries you into the house, closing the door behind you, and all you can think is that this is much, much better than a study session.

masterlist

this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

[mjrtaurus]

Hot takes on the RA that I need to share

- they have a book club (it’s very bad and mainly consists of y/n x monkey d dragon fanfction and bodice ripper romance novels)

- Iva is a collector of said y/n x moneky d dragon fanfiction (whether for blackmail or entertainment no one is sure)

- Hack and Dragon have gotten white girl wasted on wine together

- koala had the biggest fattest most mortifying crush on dragon for about 3-6 months when she was 14-15 (she will take this to her grave)

- Inazuma organized orgies before

- there is an ongoing game of hide and seek/tag currently sabo is it

- dragon has been voted to have the sexiest forearms on base

- Karasu maintains that he can talk to pigeons

- sabo has fallen alseep upright during meetings

These are very good hot takes and I definitely would like to pitch in a few if that’s good with you:

- Dragon is very much aware of the book club (and the scandalous content within) but lets it continue because shutting it down would be tantamount to closing a public library, and it would lower morale.

- Some of said bodice ripper romance novels have found their way to his personal quarters. None of them are the y/n x him genre, but morbid curiosity is slowly but surely getting the better of him.

- Morley is the number one book club fangirl. She reads everything and offers very in depth reviews and gives a lot of helpful constructive criticism if asked. She has written a few of them of her own under a pseudonym. Nobody but Iva and Inazuma know this.

- Hack is a loud drunk, and Dragon is a silly drunk. Both are known lightweights. They need adult supervision as they are like a pair of Dennis the Menaces working in perfect sync.

- Lindbergh will fuck with Sabo and Koala by using his electro like a hand buzzer. He tried it once with Dragon as a test, and sure enough the man was totally immune to it. His hair was slightly more unruly from it, though.

- speaking of Lindbergh, he went Sulong on base exactly once and scared the shit out of everyone. He doesn’t recall anything but he was told he raided the pantry and then started taking rudimentary measurements of his claws.

- Koala is probably the most foul-mouthed out of everyone there. She can cuss even the most hardened of sailors under a table and right back up over it like it’s nothing. She yells “FUCK” at the most minor inconveniences. Sabo thinks it’s hilarious.

- Karasu was born with a cleft lip and his hatred of being misunderstood stems from the difficulty he had in learning to speak. He’s since had surgery to correct the malformation, but wears his mask to hide it because he gets mistaken for a mink due to where and how the scarring rests on his upper lip.

- Dragon and Sabo both suffer from restless leg syndrome and swap tips and tricks on how to manage.

- Inazuma sews stuffed animals for the kids that they bring in. First she asks them during class what each of their favorite animals are, and then he draws up patterns of them and gets to work. The kamabakka help, as many of them are skilled tailors and seamstresses.

- Iva organizes drag shows for boosting morale. Every single one of the commanders has dominated the stage before. Dragon had to lose a bet with Kuma before he joined in on it (with the caveat that if it did feel genuinely Uncomfortable™️ at any point he could freely back out), but ended up enjoying the experience. He sets aside time whenever a show is coming up to consult Iva on what his next look ought to be.

- Dragon rarely ever gets sick, but when he does, it hits him like a brick at sixty miles per hour. The first time it happened, Sabo was convinced he had some deadly disease that was going to end his life, but no. He just happened to get the flu for the first time in like… twelve years.

[jaemified]

SNOWED IN ! [ep.iii] | forced proximity

“literally hate you jeon wonwoo”

a barista xu minghao x receptionist reader smau

‘welcome to first class resort’

previous | MASTERLIST | next

updates ; every saturday-monday (new schedule bc work is kicking my ass</33)

synopsis ; after a long first week of their first quarter at work, y/n and her department just want to go out for burgers before being snowed in the hotel thanks to an unexpected snowstorm.

🏷️ ; @minhui896 @snowcake666 @kissesfrmwonwoo @wonqr

couldnt tag ; @/heelarious @/minghaossv

note - if u see those blank pages below this then the tweets ur phones not glitching its just to fix the format:)

read below the cut !

before any of the staff realized, their first week of the new quarter had flown by, and it was time to go home for the weekend (or, just saturday since they had to come back sunday).

the first concierge/receptionist unit (aka miyeon, y/n, minnie, chan, soonyoung, sakura, and mingyu) finished cleaning up their stations, before miyeon and y/n went to explain the night shift to the manager of the second unit from the other department.

“finally, just barely 20 minutes overtime. its only 10:20 but does anyone want to go for a late dinner with the other staff from our department?” miyeon suggested to her team of 6.

“yeah sure, ill need to find seungkwan first? he’s my ride home.” chan said as he started to walk down the hall as soonyoung called out, “make sure he brings down all of his staff too!”

“alright is that a yes from everyone else?”

“except for me, my auntie is visiting from japan and i need to be the one to pick her up from the airport.” sakura said while waving at everyone as she walked towards the exit.

the unit began to converse amongst themselves as they waited for the other staff in their department before they felt the ground shake the walls harshly, the winds howl as their speeds increased and the front doors be pushed open.

“earthquake! everyone get under the desk!” miyeon yelled out, her staff being her priority as manager.

they all took cover underneath the receptionists desk before hearing a loud thud after a few minutes, leaving the glass on some of the doors shattered.

everyone got up to see what the noise was, only for their faces to freeze in shock.

“s-snow?!” minnie exclaimed. “there wasnt any snow in the forecast this week at all! and its barely the first few weeks of winter..”

“im sure you’re just as shocked as any of us are. i hope sakuras safe, im just glad she got out. uh- y/n! call sakura while i try to reach seungkwan and josh? and someone go to check out the side and back doors! don’t go alone! the powers iffy right now.” miyeon safely instructed off the top of her head, trying to remain calm in front of her staff.

you pull out your phone, dialing sakuras number as you tap your foot repeatedly against the floor in impatience and worry.

she picked up after the first few rings, “hello?”

“sakura! where are you? are you okay?”

“no, yeah im fine. im just off the side of that bridge a few miles away from the hotel. but the real question is, are you guys okay?”

“you felt it? we’re fine. splitting up duties to ensure safety. and why are you off to the side off the bridge? i assumed you wouldve been at the airport already.”

“everyone in seoul felt it. but i think it hit you guys the hardest since it came closest from that direction. you know, some cars were flipping over as i was about to pull out the parking lot!”

“just glad youre safe, but if you see the hotel, how bad does it look like we’re snowed in?”

“pretty bad.. looks snowed in on all sides and that wall of snow is so tall it goes beyond the 9th floor. that’s at least 7 meters thick going outwards.”

“shit. alright. i gotta go, but get home safely okay? bye!”

after getting off the phone with sakura, y/n goes back as she sees some of her coworkers returning from opposite directions after looking at the exits.

“theyre all blocked. completely. the garage tunnel is entirely blocked through the stairs, elevator, and side door too.” mingyu and soonyoung reported with minnie following not far behind despite being told not to go alone.

“should we call the police?”

“ill try, i just got off the phone.” you said, but just as you swiped emergency call, you immediately had no bars. “what? anyone else have service?”

everyone pulled out their phones and held it in the middle so you could see, “guess the signal just dropped.” you muttered as you dialed 119 anyway.

‘we’re sorry, the person you are trying to reach is-’

“has anyone noticed chan hasnt come back yet? its been like, well over 20 minutes.” mingyu questioned while looking around the darkly (and eerily) illuminated halls.

as mingyu walked closer, he let out a loud scream as he saw a big snd ominous silhouette coming towards him before he realized it was the rest of the staff from their department.

miyeon walked passed mingyu, playfully slapping his back before meeting up with the other managers seungkwan and josh.

“hi wonwoo.” you smiled, wrapping your arms around him brightly as you were now reassured your childhood best friend was safe now that he was in your arms.

“hi y/n. you’re not hurt or anything right?” he asked while looking around your body as he kept his hands on your shoulders.

“no im completely fine. what took you guys so long to come out though?”

“we still had a lot to clean up, but then chan went to kwans restaurant then jun just HAD to make a quick meal for him before coming to us and it always takes long if the cafe is the last stop.”

after everyone discussing what had to be discussed, such as agreeing to try calling for help in the morning, etc, etc, wonwoo announced to everyone they’ll have to check out rooms for each other and that they had to be paired up into twos.

so of course, he made you and minghao be ‘roommates’ for the time being.

“are you serious??” minghao whisper shouted as he pulled wonwoo into a corner, watching as everyone walked towards the stairwell.

“you were the only two left.” wonwoo shrugged, playing it off even though he was aware minghao clearly knew about his schemes.

after climbing 29 flights of stairs (seeing as the elevator broke), you were all beyond exhausted.

so, you took your room key from miyeon before following minghao to your shared room.

you opened the door and sigh in relief as you saw the two beds separated by a nightstand, taking off your shoes before lying down.

minghao ran a hand through his hair as he walked out from the bathroom to get himself ready for bed.

he went under the white sheets and muttered a grumpy, “dont even try talking to me.” before turning out the light, leaving you with your thoughts in the darkness.

[badcaseofcasey]

call me, maybe?

When Derek gets a call from an unknown number at 3AM, it sets of a chain of events that leads to Stiles Stilinski would become a major part of his life. He's only kind of mad about it.

Or, five times Stiles talked to Derek on the phone and the first time they meet in person

Read the full fic on AO3

omg it's my first Sterek fic in years, I'm so excited. big thank you to kali, who won my Fandom Trumps Hate auction and prompted me to write this fic. I can honestly say I had so much fun writing it. The entire fic is posted over on AO3 (linked above). I hope you all enjoy! ☎️☎️☎️

There were a lot of perks to being a werewolf - and Derek means that with no sense of irony, even if it was something that had brought a lot of inconvenience into his life. It was definitely a perk to be able to tell exactly when his annoying neighbor was out in the hallway so he could avoid running into her and getting sucked into a twenty minute conversation about the condo association’s latest schemes. It also certainly came in handy as a firefighter that he could use his senses to tell if there was someone still left in a burning building that he and the team were trying to put out.

But there was one thing about being a werewolf that was unavoidably annoying, and that was super-hearing. It pretty much only came with downsides. Derek had overheard more conversations he never wanted to be a part of than he could count. (It was genuinely shocking the kinds of comments people felt comfortable making about his appearance when they assumed they were out of earshot.) Right now, though, Derek would like nothing more than to ignore the phone vibrating on his bedside table and get a few more precious minutes of sleep. Unfortunately, the soft buzz of the phone against wood was enough to jolt him awake.

He sighed and turned to look at the lit-up screen to see who exactly he was going to be yelling at for waking him up at 3 AM (God, really? He’d only fallen asleep an hour ago), but was surprised to see it was an unknown number. He debated answering for a few more moments before deciding that there was a chance it could be one of his sisters or betas calling from someone else’s phone, so it was worth it to at least check.

“Hello?” he answered the phone, voice still gritty with sleep.

“Scott! Oh my god, it worked. Okay, sorry to wake you, but I stayed up late finishing my final paper for Munroe’s class, but then I couldn’t fall asleep, so instead of doing my usual midnight snack routine, which I’ve been avoiding since I accidentally set a tiny fire in the microwave and woke the whole building up with a fire alarm, I decided to wander the halls, you know, as you do at 3 AM, and lo and behold, there is an honest to god payphone. I didn’t even know these things still existed! So of course, I had to go back and grab some quarters and try it out.”

Derek’s eyes had fluttered closed as soon as he heard the rapid fire voice, hushed to not disturb the quiet hours of the early morning. It was clearly a wrong number, but he was way too tired to try and interrupt the steady stream of words flowing out of his mystery caller. He was seconds away from hanging up and rolling back over when there was a pause on the other line.

“Scott?” the voice asked. “You usually interrupt me by now, did you fall back asleep?”

“Not Scott,” Derek replied, eyes still mostly closed. “But I was almost back asleep after being rudely awoken at 3 AM.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the voice on the other end of the line rushed to apologize. “I swear to god I dialed my best friend’s number - it’s my first time using a pay phone.”

“You don’t say,” Derek said, voice sounding surly even to him.

“Okay, I’ll hang up now - sorry again, so sorry.”

Derek dropped his phone back onto the table and rolled back into bed, his eyelids heavy. He had nearly fallen back asleep when the phone rang again. He growled lightly when he saw the same unknown number flash across his screen.

“Still me,” he answered in lieu of a greeting.

“Oh god,” the voice said, clearly embarrassed. “Sorry again - I know what I did wrong this time, though! Your number must be one off from Scott’s - I was debating between it ending in 8845 or 8846- annnnd you definitely don’t care about that part. The good news is now I know, so you shouldn’t be hearing from me anymore.”

“Hey, kid?” Derek interrupted.

“Yes?” came the nervous voice through the phone.

“Get some sleep,” Derek replied. “And maybe, since you know the payphone works now, you can spare your friend the 3 AM wake-up call?”

“Good call,” he said. “Sorry again.”

Derek was already asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

When he woke up the next morning, he saw a text from an unknown number. Confused, he opened it and saw a message from the kid he spoke to last night.

Unknown [4:37 AM]: sorry again for waking you up in the middle of the night! have a coffee on me if you need the extra caffeine today.

Beneath the text was a link to a Starbucks gift card. Derek rolled his eyes; if he was secretly grateful for the extra caffeine as he headed to the fire station that morning, well, nobody needed to know but him.

[mrs-sharp]

The Eyes of Graphorns

Can't believe we've already reached chapter 7 of this story.

Read part 1-6 here.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x MC

tw: angst, mention of pain, alcohol, physical touch

Summary: Elaine finds her colleague, Professor Sharp, in a state of distress. Dealing with physical and emotional pain, Sharp reluctantly lets Elaine help him - developing a deeper connection to her.

Chapter 7 - Firewhisky and Despair

The school routine had Elaine in its grip completely. Dinah Hecat was always there with advice, yet she spent almost every free minute occupied with preparing lessons, checking homework, correcting written works, and helping her students prepare for their OWLs or their NEWTs. Soon enough, October had passed. For several days, it had been raining incessantly. Elaine had just finished her last class for the day and was on her way to her accommodation in the teachers' tower. She stopped outside the door. She still hadn't gotten used to living in Fig's old quarters, and every time, she hesitated before entering the room. Most of the time, she pondered if she had forgotten something to have an excuse to go back. She turned around, leaned against the wall, and let out a sigh as she sank to the floor.

Elaine glanced at the stairs in the corridor and reached into the pocket of her coat. She pulled out a small vial containing a potion. She turned it in her hands, held it up to the light, and examined the label. Maybe today she would gather enough courage. Maybe today was a good day to…

Suddenly, she heard voices from above. She couldn't understand what was being said, but her senses told her something was wrong. Without further thought, she ascended the stairs - swiftly - but not too hastily, so as not to attract attention in case she was mistaken. Outside Professor Sharp's quarters, Elaine encountered Professor Garlick, nervously knocking on his door. Next to her were Weasley and Ronen.

"Could you please open the door? I have the ingredients you asked for," Garlick said.

No response. This time, Professor Weasley tried her luck.

"Aesop, please, let us in."

"I'm busy!" echoed from behind the closed door.

Elaine remained in the corridor behind her colleagues.

"Is... everything alright?" Elaine asked cautiously. All turned simultaneously. Just as Elaine caught their concerned looks, she heard a sound from Sharp's room that made her shudder. In her years as an Auror, she had heard many things, from the breaking of bones to the rattling breath of Dementors, but none had ever startled her like this. It was a mixture of a cry and a groan.

Garlick shook her head, "We had an appointment, but he won't open the door. He's locked himself in." Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. Her gaze darted indecisively between Ronen and Weasley, as if hoping one of them had a solution.

"Perhaps we should leave," Professor Weasley began, "in this state, he's... unpredictable." In her gaze, Elaine sensed a mixture of concern and tension. Again, a cry of pain could be heard from the room. Elaine still held the vial tightly clenched and now let it slip into her jacket’s pocket. She looked determinedly at the other professors.

"What's this?" Elaine asked, gesturing to the ingredients Garlick held in her hands.

"Oh, this? Just a few Abyssinian shrivelfigs and some watercress," Garlick replied. As she spoke about the plants, Garlick immediately seemed calmer.

"May I?" Elaine began and approached the door cautiously but purposefully. Garlick stepped aside. Elaine knocked.

"I said I'm busy!" echoed from the room. Sharp’s voice sounded different than usual, angry, disturbed, and irritated, and Elaine suspected it wasn't just because of the pain.

"It's me, Professor Hopkins," Elaine spoke calmly, "May I come in?"

For a moment, silence filled the room. The other professors had also noticed it and held their breaths eagerly until suddenly the click of an opening padlock was heard. Garlick, Weasley, and Ronen looked at each other in surprise until Elaine said to Garlick, "Quickly, give me the ingredients."

Elaine reached out her hand toward Garlick, and with the other, she cautiously pushed the door ajar so Sharp couldn't change his mind hastily. With one last nervous glance toward her colleagues, she disappeared into Sharp's quarters.

"Are you sure you…" Professor Weasley started to say, but before she could finish the sentence, Elaine had already quietly closed the door behind herself.

She looked around. The sight that greeted her inside the room tore her apart internally, although she had already had an idea of what to expect. First, she noticed the overturned chair, along with several partially empty bottles of Firewhisky scattered around the room. Then her gaze fell on Sharp. He sat slumped against the wall next to the open passage to the back room. Beside him lay his coat and his jacket. Sharp clutched his leg with both hands, his eyes squinted, his head bowed to his chest. He had pulled his uninjured leg close to his body. As she approached, Elaine noticed that his face was pale and had a pained expression. She could see from his shoulders that he was breathing quickly and shallowly.

She set aside Garlick's ingredients. Slowly, she approached her former teacher and knelt in front of him. When he felt her proximity, he looked up at Elaine. There was a kind of despair in his face that Elaine hadn't known from him before. His eyes stared at her, wide and full of fear, as if begging for help, but this plea couldn't escape his lips. Between his eyes lay a deep furrow. A deep sigh escaped his throat.

Elaine placed her hand on his shoulder and gently stroked the fabric of his vest with her thumb. She felt the warmth of his body and the trembling.

"It's alright, I'm here."

He responded to her words with a soft whimper. Despite his pain, he remembered that these were the words he had said to her almost ten years ago when he had found her in front of Fig's lifeless body. It embarrassed him to be seen in this state, but he felt that her touch calmed him, and she was the only one he could bear to be near right now.

Elaine reached into her pocket, pulled out the vial of potion, and placed it next to herself on the floor. The hand that had rested on Sharp's shoulder now gently rested on his hands, which still clutched his leg. She carefully released his tense grip and held his left hand for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Their eyes met briefly before they both shyly looked down. Elaine gently touched the spot on Sharp's leg that he had been holding tightly. She bit her lip as if searching for the right words.

"May I?" she finally asked. She gestured to his leg and met his dark, heavy gaze, which drew her down into its depths. For a few seconds, silence reigned between them, interrupted only by Sharp's irregular breathing. The smell of alcohol filled the air. Elaine knew that Sharp had noticed the vial on the floor and was aware of what she intended to do. Sharp swallowed. Then he nodded, though he still hadn't managed to say a word. Elaine made him feel understood even without him speaking.

"Please, trust me."

Elaine's words wrapped warmly and softly around Sharp's tense shoulders, leaving a gentle burning sensation there that calmed his trembling a little, though he feared what was about to happen. He felt Elaine skillfully unfasten the buckles of his boots. She made great effort to keep his leg still, knowing that any movement would exacerbate the pain. Elaine placed one hand under Sharp's knee, and slowly slid it under his calf. With the other hand, she pulled on the boot, and somehow she managed to pull it off his foot in one fluid motion. Sharp cried out briefly but quickly composed himself. Elaine looked at him to gauge how intense the pain was. To her surprise, Sharp seemed to have calmed down a bit, but he still couldn't move, and his fingertips tried to find some grip on the wooden floor. He looked at her with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. Elaine hesitated.

"Carry on," he suddenly interrupted the silence with a raspy, rough voice, "I trust you."

Elaine turned away so he couldn't see how much his words and the sound of his voice touched her. With a discreet motion, she hastily wiped away a tear from her face. Once she had regained her composure, she began unbuttoning the buttons on the side of his trousers. She worked slowly, gradually exposing Sharp's scarred leg, trying not to pay too much attention to the intense tension in his muscles, which showed as gentle curves under his pale skin. Elaine cautiously placed a hand on Sharp's leg, feeling for where the tensions were worst. Eventually, she paused at the deepest scar.

Elaine reached for the vial and unscrewed the dropper. It contained a liquid that strongly resembled unicorn blood in colour and consistency. She dripped some of the potion onto the wound and gently massaged it into the scarred skin of his leg.

Sharp found himself secretly enjoying each of her touches. At first, he wondered if it was due to the pain-relieving effect of the elixir, but shortly after, he was sure that it was primarily the feeling of her warm skin on his own that calmed his mind. His trembling disappeared a little more with each stroke of her soft fingers. His breathing slowed and transformed into deep, steady breaths.

He couldn't understand it. How often had he viewed his injury with contempt and disgust? But he could read none of that in Elaine's face. There sat this talented, intelligent, and beautiful young woman in front of him, touching what was most vulnerable about him without flinching. She only seemed to care about his state insofar as she unconditionally accepted it. On one hand, it scared him to be so exposed to someone, but on the other hand, this moment was full of trust and security. He felt his face and his whole body filling with warmth. Her worried expression, the determination in her eyes, her fingers on his skin. All of this deeply touched him.

When Elaine was done, her hand still lingered on Sharp's leg for a while. She tried to prolong the moment a little without giving herself away. It was risky, but ultimately she didn't know how much time she had left and when she would be this close to her colleague again, who meant so much to her. Elaine didn't realize that he, too, hoped this moment wouldn't end too soon. Sharp tried not to move and even stopped breathing for a few seconds as if he could slow down time that way.

Elaine closed the vial and let herself sink to the floor next to Sharp, leaning her shoulder against his upper arm as casually as possible. He didn't seem to mind. Sharp closed his eyes and let himself be enveloped by her scent. She smelled of soap, cotton blossoms, ink on parchment, and the smoke of burnt wood. Presumably, she had been practising "Incendio" with her class before. Elaine pulled her legs to her body and wrapped her arms around them. For a while, they silently sat next to each other. Neither of them spoke about what had just happened until Sharp eventually broke the silence: "Thank you."

Elaine looked at her knees for a while. Perhaps now was a good time? She gathered all her courage.

"I... I was wondering," she began hesitantly, "if you might be interested in, perhaps, visiting me. I have a small cottage down in Cragcroft. We could cook something together. What do you think?"

Elaine bit her lip. Barely had she spoken the words, she already regretted it feeling like making a fool of herself. Sharp looked at her in astonishment. She had just seen the worst side of him, had experienced how weak and vulnerable he was, she had seen him scream, rage, and suffer, on top of that, he was drunk, and now she was inviting him over?

"I... I can understand, of course, if you don't want to…"

"Absolutely," he interrupted her before she had a chance to reconsider, "I mean... I would really like to visit you in Cragcroft."

And then Elaine did something Sharp hadn't experienced since they had been to the Room of Requirement: she smiled.

"I should go now," she replied after a while, but her facial expression told him she was looking forward to their reunion, "Will you be alright?"

Sharp nodded, "Thanks again. For everything."

When Elaine had left the room, he noticed she had left the vial behind. He wanted to get up and return it to her. After all, she probably needed it more urgently than he did, but then he noticed a note tied to the neck of the bottle with a fine string. He untied the parchment, unrolled it, and immediately recognized Elaine's neat handwriting:

"I brewed this potion from the ingredients I encountered on my travels. It cannot heal the curse, but it should alleviate the pain more effectively than a Wiggenweld potion. Please keep the bottle and consider it as a gesture of gratitude for what you did for me during my school days."

Underneath was a recipe. Sharp glanced at the list of ingredients: Dittany leaves, saltwater, juice of sleep beans, an immature air-dried poppy seed pod, devil's claw root, a decoction of acconitum leaves, a thunderbird feather and comfrey blossoms. Some of it was easy to obtain, but he knew devil's claw and thunderbird feathers was nearly impossible to get in Britain. So, he had to use the potion wisely. Sharp clasped the bottle with his hand and pressed it to his chest. Then he leaned his head back, stared at the ceiling, and let himself be filled with gratitude.

-> This way to Chapter 8 - Intuition

[ejzah]

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 26

***

As principal, Sam Hanna made the call home about Caleb’s behavior, which meant Kensi didn’t get the opportunity to glean any details from the conversation. She also didn’t see Deeks during car rider pick up since since she was on bus duty.

The whole time, her mind kept drifting back to Caleb. He’d remained emotional the rest of the day once he returned from his chat with Sam, nearly breaking into tears a few more times, and mostly keeping to himself. It hurt to see him so off-kilter and upset

For the first time since the day she met Deeks, she found herself angry with him. He should have warned her about this; they talked nearly every day. He’d certainly had the opportunity, so it seemed an intentional oversight. As much as she tried to separate her responsibilities as a concerned teacher from her personal feelings, she couldn’t. It hurt that he’d hadn’t said anything. After everything they’d discussed and shared, he’d kept something this important to himself.

She tried not to be jealous of Monica, an unknown she’d never fully considered a threat. Maybe she should have.

Her phone buzzed while she was putting in some of the fourth quarter grades. A banner with Deeks’ name popped up with a message that disappeared too quickly for her to read. She briefly considered ignoring it to spite him, but then picked the phone up, reminding herself she was a mature adult. Playing games would solve nothing.

Deeks: Hey, can you come over tonight?

Kensi felt a wave of relief, and started typing, then erased, repeating that process several times before she settled on a very eloquent, “Ok”.

***

When Deeks got the call from St. Bridget’s he immediately thought something terrible must have happened. Though it was a relief, he was almost more shocked that Caleb was in trouble. He rarely got into disagreements with other kids, let alone acting aggressively.

Kids made mistakes though, even “good” kids. He didn’t want to come down too hard, but also couldn’t just ignore it.

He spent the drive to the school and in the car line, debating how to handle the situation. Caleb made the decision for him when he walked out, head down, and got into the truck very obviously doing his best not to look at Deeks.

“Hey kiddo, how was your day?” Deeks asked, deciding to forgo mentioning the incident for now.

“I got in trouble,” Caleb muttered into his knees.

“Yeah, I know. You want to talk about that?”

Caleb looked up for just a second, barely making eye contact, and shook his head before folding in on himself again. He stayed quiet the whole ride home, refusing to tell Deeks what was wrong or answer any questions beyond the fact that he’d thrown a toy at a classmate.

“Ok, go get started on your homework,” Deeks told Caleb when they got home, dropping a kiss on his head. “We’re going to talk about this throwing thing more later, ok?”

“Ok.” Caleb gave another nod, gently bumping him head against Deeks’ chest.

“Love you, kiddo.”

Deeks watched Caleb shuffle down the hallway to his room, then closed his eyes, blowing out a long, slow breath. Frustration mixed with a heavy dose of anger burbled up inside him.

He could hazard a guess that Monica’s surprise visit played a part in Caleb’s unusual behavior. Deeks had spent the entire hour she’d stayed trying to conceal his feelings like he always had in the past when Caleb was involved. He’d always told himself that he wouldn’t say or do anything to tarnish Caleb’s opinion of his mother, but maybe he’d been wrong.

Twisting his head side to side to try to alleviate the growing ache at the base of his skull, he settled his hands on his hips. He still needed to make dinner and finish some work. He also really needed to talk to Kensi. He didn’t quite know why he’d put it off, but the longer he waited, the harder it seemed to tell her about the latest development.

Deeks raked a hand through his hair, sending a text to Kensi, asking her to come over, then headed into the kitchen to figure out what he could throw together.

***

Kensi arrived at Deeks’ house shortly after five. He answered her knock with a spatula in one hand, and a smile that seemed less genuine than usual.

“Hey.”

“Hey, come in. I’m just finishing dinner,” he said, gesturing her in. Kensi followed him back into the kitchen, where a covered pot sat on one burner on the stove and a pan of what looked like mixed vegetables sizzles in a skillet. Deeks stirred the contents a few times, giving the pan a few shakes instead of using the spatula.

“Sorry about what happened with Caleb at school today. We’re going to talk about it a later when he has a chance to settle down a little. He’s been a little…off the last couple days. Though I know that’s no excuse,” Deeks explained, focusing on the food.

Kensi studied him as he worked, noticing the tight set of his shoulders and slightly stilted movements.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Kensi responded, hesitating briefly before she forged ahead. “He mentioned that his mom is back in town.”

Deeks stilled, his head falling forward for a moment, and she heard him swear under his breath.

“I was going to tell you,” he said.

“So, why didn’t you?” She kept her voice perfectly even, though the confirmation that he was keeping this from her made her chest tighten with a strange kind of pain. “If for no other reason than Caleb’s sake. He was kind of a mess today.”

Flipping off the front burner with a sharp twist of his wrist, he turned to face her. “To be honest, I’m still trying to process all of this. Monica just showed up without warning, like not even a call, and asked to see Caleb. I don’t know how to feel about any of it.”

“Oh.” Her dismay at this revelation obviously showed, and Deeks’ head snapped up.

“Not like that,” he clarified adamantly. “I’m not in love with Monica at all.”

Kensi studied his expression, searching for any lie in his statement, even if he didn’t realize it. She saw confusion, frustration, maybe even anger, but nothing that suggested he was concealing feelings for his ex-wife.

“I believe you. I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s ok,” Deeks interrupted quickly. He chuckled softly, tiredly. “It’s been a weird few days.”

Moving towards the table, she pulled out a chair, and motioned for Deeks to sit down. The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, and he sat with a heavy sigh while she took the seat next to him.

“Tell me what happened,” she prompted.

He brushed at his hair a few times before settling his chin on his folded hands.

“Two nights ago, Monica showed up, and asked to see Caleb. It’s not the first time she’s done that, but usually she gives some kind of warning. Or asks if she can come beforehand.” He rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip, his eyes distant.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen her, I think I assumed she just wasn’t ever coming back. Once I got over the shock, I realized I really didn’t want her in the house, but she convinced me to let her in.” He shook his head. “She tried to act like nothing had changed, flirting, asking about my job, and the more she did, the more…” he trailed off.

“What happened with Caleb?” Kensi asked gently.

“Oh, the poor kid was so confused,” he said bitterly. “You know, he used to talk about her, even a few months ago, but he hasn’t recently. I think he finally came to terms with the fact that his mom is not a consistent part of his life, and then she just rocks in her wanting to do play games and read him a bedtime story. I don’t blame him for being upset.”

“It’s a lot for a little kid.” Kensi reached over and tapped one of his hands with her fingertip. “And how does the elder Deeks feel about it?”

Deeks smiled more genuinely at her question, rubbing his hands over his eyes. He looked tired in a way that went beyond the physical. The last of her irritation faded away as she cupped her hand around his.

He tipped his chin up, pursing his lips against his teeth. “Oh, I am…worried about my kid, frustrated, and beyond angry. I’m so sick of Monica disrupting our lives.” He gave Kensi an abashed look. “That probably sounds incredibly selfish.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Kensi assured him, sliding her hand up to curl around the back of his neck. “None of this is fair, and it makes perfect sense that you want stability in your life. I’m not judging you.”

Deeks leaned into her touch, and she gently brushed her thumb along his skin.

“Speaking of guilt, I never meant to keep this from you. I’m—”

Kensi pressed her finger against his lips, gently silencing him.

“No apologies, Deeks. I understand.” Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around him as much as she could at such an odd angle. His head fell onto her shoulder, his breath warm on his skin, and she just held him tighter.

“You’re way too good to me,” he murmured.

“No, I’m not. I just love you,” she told him, running her fingers through his hair several times. She felt him relaxing in her arms after a few seconds.

“Ugh, I need to finish dinner,” he said without making a move to get up.

“How about I order pizza?” Kensi suggested. “Then maybe you can have that talk with Caleb.”

***

A/N: Drama. That’s it. Oh, and maybe a little bit of emotional whump.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1209: The Ultimate Two Winged Lifeform (SSBU X Sonic)

Mario Family GroupChat

Shadow: I've arrived home from work early.

Shadow: But I need you all to come outside for a sec if you can

Mario: Sure, but-

Mario: Is everything alright, son?

Peach: You're not hurt right now, are you?

Hat Kid: 😟😟

Shadow: Don't worry. I'm not injured or anything.

Shadow: I just wanted to show you something is all.

Shadow: The details themselves are complicated to explain, so you'll have to forgive me if I seem nervous or uneasy to each of you.

Sonic: Relax man, we won't judge!

Sonic: How crazy of a surprise u have in store for us could possibly be?

1:56 p.m. Smash Mansion's Front Yard........

Peach: ('GASPS')

Hat Girl: Woooooooah........

Mario: Mama Mia.......

Sonic: Siiick!

The Mario family's eyes were widening up in surprise and awe at Shadow sporting a black, supernatural looking wings in his back.

Shadow: (Soghs While Facepalming Himself a Bit) I suppose that's one way of putting it.

Mario: Shadow.....You have wings this entire time?

Shadow: No. I obtain them more recently actually. It all started when I was finishing up my training session back at G.U.N's HQ. It was a normal run-through at first, did a fair enough job holding my own against every obstacles coming my way.

Flashback

Shadow: It wasn't long before I found myself getting surrounded by a group of low to mid level robots. I prepared myself for battle until my body suddenly starts shaking and rattling out of control for a brief second, as if something was desperately trying to come out. So leaped myself up to the air-

And these two...alienated looking wings you see before you, emerges from out of my back before I swooped back down to the ground, destroying every remaining robots and obstacles left on sight.

End of Flashback

Shadow: I was then taken to the lab to run a few tests on me and apparently the one quarter of my DNA has been playing the part in all of this for quite some time. (Hands Mario and Peach the Written Results Given to Him Earlier Today)

Mario: (Reads the Paper Alone with Peach) Let's see.....80% Hedgehog.......

Peach: .........100% Ultimate Lifeform.........

Mario/Peach: (Eyes Begins to Widened at What They're About to Read Out Next) 34% Alien!?

Shadow: (Closes his Wings) Yeah. Apparently, Professor Gerald had a bit outside help in creating me all those years ago. (Sighs While Pinching the Bridge of his Nose) And it's from Black Doom of all people......

Hat Kid: (Tilt her Head and Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Black Doom?

Sonic: (Turns to his Little Sis) He's this creepy lookong evil alien guy Shadz and I faced the past. He even got squid eye looking thingy he uses to follow him everywhere with. (Shows Hat Kid a Picture of Doom's Eye) See?

Hat Kids: (Intrigued by the Picture Shown to Her) Ooh~ Freaky.

Sonic: I know, right? It's like it staring directly into in my soul if i stare at it for too long (Stares Directly into Doom's Eye Until-) Wait. (Looks Back Up at Shadow) So if the professor and that Doom guy were responsible for creating you the first, wouldn't that technically make both of them your dads, right before our dad?

Shadow: In a technical sense perhaps. (Crosses his Arms Together) I detest the idea of Doom being a father figure if anything......

Peach: (Already Has a Darkened Glare on her Face) Did he hurt you in anyway?

Shadow: No, not until he transformed himself into a giant grotesque monster to try and destroy our entire world he hasn't. He'd usually have his a few of his strongest Black Arms soldiers to fight me, just to see if I'm worthy of their cause or whatnot. (Rolls his Eyes a Bit in Annoyance) Then he would always get mad at me whenever I defend myself against lower classes trying to kill me on numerous occasions.

Sonic: Seriously? You guys have like the same DNA from one another.

Shadow: I have SOME of their DNA, Sonic. They'd probably saw me as an outside the moment they laid their eyes on me. Not like I ever cared to begin with. I don't associate myself with them, their leader, and their cause nor do I want to seen as of one of them.

Mario: (Frowns Worryingly) Is that why you were nervous to tell us this? You think we would see you as an evil alien hybrid?

Shadow: ('Sigh') Somewhat. It's just (Frowns a Bit as He Looks at his Wings Behind Them) These wings.....Whether I like it or not, they're part of me now and given that there's still a few more information about me that I have yet to discover, I.....couldn't help but think that it could possibly make you all think of me in a more negative li-

Both Peach and Hat Kid rushes over and give Shadow loving hugs before he could even finish the rest of sentence.

Peach: Oh my poor, sweet baby....Is that what you've been stressing yourself out all day over?

Shadow: Mother, I wouldn't exactly say I'm THAT stressed out over-

Peach: (Gives her Son a Soft Glare Along with Hat Kid) Shadow.

Hat Kid: Be honest.

Shadow: ('Sighs in Defeat') Yes, it has. It freaking me out more than anything, if I'm really being frank here.

Sonic: (Forms a Bit of a Teasing Smirk on his Face) You, the Ultimate Lifeform, getting cold feet over a bunch of wings on your back. That's a shock.

Shadow: (Gives Sonic a Deadpinned Look on his Face) You'd be like this too if you have them looking like this.

Sonic: (Casually Shrugs as He Walks Over to Shadow and Co.) It's freaky looking for sure. But it's definitely not something we'd be running away, screaming over in the long run.

Shadow: Really? Are you sure?

Hat Kid: (Happily Nodded) Mmhmm!~

Peach: (Gives Shadow the Sweetest Smile She Could Muster) You could never scare us away, sweetheart. I promise. (Gives Shadow a Loving Kiss on the Cheek)

Sonic: (Gives Shadow a Reassuring Grin) See? You have nothing to worry about here, Shadz. You're fine.

Shadow: I will be completely if you quit calling me that.

Sonic: Would you prefer being relegated back to being called "Faker" again instead?

Shadow: Can't believe I'm saying this, but I do actually. Sounds less annoying in comparison.

Sonic: (Joins in on the Group Hug) Faker it is then.

Mario: (Gives Shadow a Reassuring Smile on his Face) They're all right, you know? You being half alien and those of wings are not gonna scare us one bit and it doesn't change the fact that you're still you at the end of day. Try not to let all of this bother you too much, okay?

Shadow: (Simply Nodded ti the Command) I'll try. (Smiles a Bit) Thanks. All of you.

Mario: (Happily Join in on the Family Group Hug) You're welcome, son! We love you so much.

Shadow: Likewis-

?????: Oh. My god.

The family looks up to see Rouge using her wings flutter herself down on the ground.

Rouge: Shadow, is that really you down there or am I seeing a hedgehog angel of some kind?

Shadow: It's me, Rouge. I have wings now believe it or not.

Rouge: Oh, trust me. I'm believing it already. (Walking Around Shadow While Examining his Wings) Hm.....Okay......It's freaky looking alright. But I dig it. It goes along with your color scheme and cool demeanor pretty well.

Peach: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) I agree. It looks wonderful on you, dear. You'll get used to them eventually.

Rouge: What? They got you stressed out or something?

Sonic: Yep. Poor guy worried we'll see him as a freak now that he has them on him.

Rouge: (Turns to Shadow) You, Shadow the Hedgehog-

Shadow: Worried? Yeah. Shocker. I'm over it now.

Rouge: Well, i hope so. (Playfully Pulls Shadow's Cheek a Bit) You'll always be our soft grumpy of a hedgehog, with or without wings~

Hat Kid: (Giggles Softly at Shadow's Dispense)

Shadow: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Much appericated, Rouge. Now hands off my face.

Rouge: ('Sighs in Defeat') Alright. I'm gonna, you big baby. (Lets Go of his Cheek Before Giving it a Small Peck) Now, given that your sudden development, I believe flight lessons will be in top order.

Shadow: (Raises an Eyebrow) You're gonna teach me how to fly?

Rouge: Well, who else is gonna teach you? Your dad?

Mario: (Points at the Mansion Behind Him) I could grab the Wing Cup from the-

Rouge: Upupup, no need, Mr Mario. (Forms a More Confident Smile on Her Face) With grace and guidance, we'll have your boy flying around in the blue skies in no time.

Shadow: (Whispers into a Giggling Hat Kid's Ear) I'll give it one week tops before she calls it quits.

Rouge: (Glares at Shadow) I heard that! You should have more faith in me than that, you jerk!

Peach: (Gives Shadow a Motherly Glares) Shadow, don't be rude to Ms. Bat!

Shadow: (Turns to Peach) Mother, please. Do not encourage her foolishness any-

Rouge: Ooh~ Ms. Bat?

Shadow: ('Sigh') Too late.

Rouge: Such profession and sophistication it sounds. Love it. (Turns her Attention Back at her One and Only Student) Shadow, you'll now address me as Ms. Bat for now on, starting today.

Shadow: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Today?

Rouge: Yep. We're gonna start our very flying lesson starting right now.

Shadow: Seriously? I JUST got by from HQ today!

Peach: (Hugs Shadow Again) And we missed him dearly~ Can you postpone it for tomorrow instead?

Rouge: ('Sigh') Fine. First thing tomorrow morning, 9:30.

Shadow: That...doesn't sound nearly as early as I thought.

Rouge: Hey, a girl needs a lot a beauty sleep to get through the next day. Take it or leave it.

Shadow: Well-

Mario/Peach: Shadow!

Mario: Give it chance.

Peach: Please?

Shadow: ('Sigh') Fine. I'll take it.

Rouge: (Smiles Brightly) Good. We're gonna have ourselves a good training session going forward, hon!~

Shadow: (Rolls his Eyes a Bit) I'm already regretting it as we speak.

@bestpony666

@albion-93

@theweebmaster31

@ma-lemons

@decibelcoatl

@caleb13frede

@minetsudeku112

[rocknrollsalad]

Oooh, Stargyle has so much unexplored potential.

What about Steve and Argyle both going to community college for something hands on: woodworking, welding, pottery, plumbing--I don't really care? (Why? Steve is a very tactile, hands-on guy and not big on academics, and we see Argyle in woodshop.)

And they have to partner up for a project. They both turn out to be really good at one aspect of the project. Flirtation ensues.

OKAY, so I may have done a really shitty job of following this prompt. I read maybe seven words of it and rushed to a new gdoc. Immediately, I vomited out 1200 words and took it from there.

However, it's received some less-than-favorable reviews already so I stopped writing it. I'm kind of sorry. I'm more sorry about publishing it knowing it's neither finished nor as good as it should be. HOWEVER, here's what I got and I hope you get so many nice things for sending this to me in my hour of need.

tw: drug use (pot) word count: 2705

College was the last place Steve thought he’d be. Sure it was a community college and his parents made sure to let him know exactly how beneath them that was but it was still school. Something he thought he’d finished with because…school sucked. 

It was also the way forward. 

So, yeah, he was twenty-six and attending a full day of classes at some community college. He was also working part-time and somehow finding time to have something close to a social life. Occasionally. Not as much as he wanted on the latter and less in the way of dating but he was out of Hawkins and doing this on his own. 

He’d moved out west three years ago, the last of his friends went off to colleges of their own and left him looking at a ghost of town that held nothing special anymore. It was a necessary bit of sadness to push Steve toward following his dreams. 

Sun and surf, palm trees and tacos, and never a single snow day. Everyone wanted him to hate it, it was so far from them, but Steve hadn’t worn pants or a long sleeve shirt in 30 months. He’d been permanently tan for just as long and his hair found its way to something closer to blonde. The food was better, the people friendlier, and, yeah, everyone he’d grown up with was a plane ride away now but the good outweighed the bad. 

Not to mention, he breathed easier out from under the Harrington shadow. Carving his own way for the first time in his life had been more freeing than being allowed to wear flip-flops to work. Robin, Nancy, Dustin, Max, they’d all understand eventually. Especially if they’d make that plane ride. 

With a job at a daycare, Steve found himself a calling among all the naps on the beach. It made sense that he was good at it but it was luck he’d found out. At least until he got too comfortable there. His boss was the one who talked him into college, she had a list a mile long of things an early childhood education degree could bring him and, by extension, her. Steve wasn’t into the idea. Obviously, he’d done fine without it but she swore he could do so much more. After months of lectures and pamphlets and attempts at reasoning with him, Steve finally caved. 

Once he did, though, she was his biggest supporter. Something Steve actually needed in all this. He didn’t have a lot of faith in himself to earn this degree. On paper, it looked daunting. But his boss helped him pick courses and study for his assessments. Holding his hand every step of the way and crossing a few t’s Steve missed. However, she didn’t console him when the results came back and he was below college level on everything. It would mean a lot of math courses and even more English ones. 

Something he bogged himself down with for the first quarter. Wanting to speed run through catching up, all Steve did was depress himself and lose the desire to carry on. For the next quarter, they balanced things a little more. Classes for his degree and classes for catching up. 

His boss had pushed a course on nutrition, promising it’d be fun and though not directly part of his degree requirements, would come in handy with their new programs and funding. Steve wasn’t sure about the fun part but it sounded far better than another stab at algebra. 

So at ten o’clock in the god-forsaken morning, Steve dragged himself to a part of the school he’d never seen to learn about what foods were healthy. An easy A, Steve thought, the answer to everything here is just vegetables. Don’t give kids candy for breakfast. Carrot cake wasn’t actually healthy. It seemed like something he could do in his sleep. A fact he might put to the test at this hour. 

Claiming a seat in the middle of the room, against the wall in case he needed a nap, Steve readied his supplies in some weird impression of Nancy Wheeler. Trying to look ready to learn even if he wasn’t. Something about faking it until he made it or whatever people said. No one could tell him he wasn’t trying. 

Barely a minute before the class was meant to start (the teacher was nowhere in sight) laughter came from outside the door and followed a couple of guys in. Two other people stood up and they exchanged hi-fives as the jokes were explained and the laughter doubled. 

One guy among them was enough to make Steve sit upright and pay a bit more attention. A gorgeous man with a loud printed t-shirt and the longest hair Steve had ever seen on anyone. He laughed and joked with everyone and Steve couldn’t stop staring. Like everything else in the room had just fizzled away and he was left with this muted conversation and his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. 

This was also something new to California. Not cartoon hearts appearing around guys, that had always been there, but being okay with it. Losing the pressure to be the golden boy had allowed him a chance to experiment and Steve could, with confidence, now say he liked all genders. If only the increase in possibilities had led to less striking out. 

Almost immediately, Steve envisioned being rejected by this guy. He didn’t seem the sort to laugh in his face, maybe he’d let him down gently, say it wasn’t his thing. But a small part of Steve’s mind toyed with the “yes” of it all as he stared across the classroom. 

The teacher had apparently arrived because everyone started to find seats and Steve was left feeling a bit lost and more than a little confused as he tried to come back to the present. The man in the front of the room trying to settle everyone was everything TV made hippies out to be, he sounded like Cheech or Chong and flashed the peace sign seven different times in his introduction. He certainly wasn’t going to be holding any of Steve’s attention but, again, this was just meant to be an easy A. It didn’t have to be dynamic. At least he had a reason to show up every day. 

For days that drifted into weeks, Steve watched the other students arrive nearly the same way every day. This ball of energy and light, laughing and talking with everyone until the teacher made him sit down. Which he did with a casual apology and presented the floor to the man who had no command of the room. It felt like high school, hardly a higher learning situation but Steve’s boss had warned him, that college wasn’t as serious as people made it out to be. 

They were supposed to learn about nutrition and why it mattered but mostly the guy talked about his garden and how to keep pests away. Other students stopped coming but that happened in all classes. Those that stayed, Steve found out, were all in the culinary program and it was this or more practice chopping onions. They were thrilled to be here and didn’t care what the guy talked about. 

Which brought on a new feeling as the class list was an obvious clique and him. Steve was on the outside, not part of the group having fun, and it was a place he’d never been. Robin said it was good for him but he wasn’t so sure. 

Steve thought he was going to spend the whole quarter looking on from afar, not even knowing this guy’s name, and he’d begun to make peace with that. Wondering where just a touch of King Steve was so he could waltz in like he belonged like he was a blessing to them. Maybe he didn’t have to swing his personality so far the other way but there was comfort in being on the outskirts that Steve wasn’t ready to give up. 

Until a month into the quarter, the teacher didn’t show up. Everyone chimed in with different amounts of time they had to wait before they could leave but eventually, one brave soul made the call. Dismissed them all with a promise of an A for the day. Power they didn’t have but a joke the whole class shared. 

As those who weren’t in the culinary program packed up, Steve was approached by the guy he’d been staring at day in and day out. Whatever it was that had Cinderella able to make animals do her chores, this guy had. It was almost hard to be in the presence of and typically Steve wasn’t a fan of anything that made his confidence falter but he recovered in enough time. He hoped. 

“Yo, man. You sit in the class by yourself, like, every day and I keep thinking ‘y’know what? That guy needs a friend!’ so here I am! We’re gonna go across the street to the Erin’s. They both got the same name but one’s a guy and one’s a girl, and they’re dating. It’s not weird, I guess, but I don’t want to be saying my own name in bed, ya know? But, yeah, they got a few new recipes to try and, y’know, plenty of weed. If you wanna come?” 

There was a desperate “yes” on the tip of Steve’s tongue that he hated. “Yeah, I don’t have anything going on until later,” he lied. 

“Righteous! I’m not an Aaron, by the way. Name’s Argyle.” 

“Steve.” 

“That’s so easy to remember. You look like a Steve. Steven?” 

Steve nodded, not really wanting to claim the name in case Argyle wanted to start using it. 

Instead, he nodded for the door and made moves toward it. “Alright, so have you ever had tres leches cake? Tell me you’ve tried this.” 

“I’ve..never heard of it.” 

“Prepare to be delighted. This is a big day for you, man. You’ll never be the same after it. Tell your taste buds to get ready, their tiny minds are going to be blown clean off.” 

The description brought on a familiar feeling, Argyle was gorgeous and kind but under that amazing smile, he was as weird as everyone else Steve knew. And he knew how to hang out with the weird kids. 

On the walk over, Argyle talked about how he got into cooking, why he was in college so “late” in life, and his restaurant owning dreams for the future. Steve couldn’t get a word in but he didn’t trust his flirting or conversational ability so it was for the best. 

And Argyle didn’t seem to have a problem filling the silences or depriving Steve of them. Walking them around and introducing Steve to a bunch of people whose names he forgot immediately, feeding him snacks, and getting them both settled in the “backyard” where, for the first time, Argyle stopped talking. There were a bunch of other people to fill the silences though. 

Most of what was shared, Steve didn’t follow. They spoke with familiarity Steve didn’t have, he hadn’t earned yet. Instead, he listened, passed the joint around, and ate more cake in one sitting than he ever had before. 

All of it made it hard to stay focused. Steve realized his tolerance was not what it used to be and that made it that much harder to impress. Unless sitting quietly and nursing one drink because you were afraid you’d never see another beverage again in your life was now charming. Best he could tell no one seemed to mind but everything was really hazy so they could have been ripping Steve apart and he wouldn’t know. Just smile and take another sip. 

How he got home was a mystery but the half a cake on his kitchen counter said it was done so with kindness. As with any night under the influence, Steve prayed he didn’t make an ass of himself and for the first time, all quarter found himself dreading the nutrition class. 

But Argyle walked in the room and pointed at Steve, crowing out “He lives!!!!” before lowering his voice to add “Glad to see you among the living again, my man. You can not handle your weed.” 

“I’m out of practice and…from Indiana.” 

Argyle’s eyes went wide like the second point explained everything and before he could add anything else, the teacher came in demanding attention for another day of teaching them nothing. Steve moved up a row and relaxed some. Though he did spend more time daydreaming about burgers than cute boys who mock him. 

Not that he didn’t deserve it. He’d been so wrapped up in the new experience that he forgot to seal the deal and there was a version of Steve out there that never would have let that happen. Now he was back to not knowing where he stood but knowing full well he should just find out. He knew how to find out but years of bad luck, a personality shift, and maybe a healthy fear of rejection kept Steve in his seat. 

Every day after that, though, he got a little wave or nod from Argyle as he breezed into class with his group of friends. It was easier to pick out now that Argyle wasn’t the leader of the group, just a very devoted follower whom Steve had made the most important. A familiar scene from the other side. College wasn’t quite the same as high school though and Steve would kill for a pep rally to skip or dance to go to. 

Instead, he stuck to quiet greetings. Like all the other classes he’d had. A group project here or there brought strangers together but for the most part, it was a roomful of people living their lives. At least these guys now welcomed him into the laughs. Though there wasn’t another invite to sit on a square foot of dirt and eat amazing food so he wasn’t part of the club, obviously. 

By the time Steve had made peace with that, the invite to come out to have snacks at a friend’s was thrown his way. Though he was denied a chance to get high. Something he pouted about for far too long. It earned him sympathy but not drugs. He did remember the night this time and got himself home so maybe it was for the best. 

The week after it wasn’t a friend’s place but the kitchens at the school because there was a ton of beef wellingtons that needed to be eaten. Sure most of them were overdone, a couple were burnt, but it was free food, and eating a bit of charred pastry was hardly anything to complain about. 

After everything settled and people were hanging around talking, Argyle grabbed Steve and brought him through to an area with multiple kitchen setups. Lit only by the wall of windows, stovetops sparkled and the smell of bleach overpowered anything they’d been used for. Far beyond any home ec class he’d been in but he felt just as out of place. 

They head over to one of the setups and sure, maybe they were there to try some amazing dish Argyle had in the fridge. Perhaps he just wanted to show off his area or maybe they’d “break the rules” and cook something special. Okay, so that last one was a bit too Hollywood but Steve was lonely, his brain did things like this now. 

It also presented him with a fourth option that changed what sort of movie it was. All alone in a dark room with a guy he’d been lusting after for weeks, there was a very obvious choice. Far more risky than baking after hours, Steve wasn’t sure if he was picking up hints or Argyle just loved everyone but he’d never know if he didn’t try. 

So Steve sucked in a breath and crowded Argyle’s space until the man was backed against the fridge, waiting for any indication this wasn’t welcome. When nothing was said Steve leaned against him. From there instinct took over for both of them and their lips pressed together.

[renee-writer]

The Diary Part 2

A/N This continues @ladymeraud and I's previous work, The Diary. It is a one shot in the same universe. Enjoy.

AO3

Dr. Frank Randall loathes Scotland. It is where his ex girlfriend lives with her husband. Both are successful, damn their eyes! She runs a small hospital and he a quite successful wine and whisky company. Yet, he finds himself entering the University of Glasgow. He knows universities, having a Professorship at Harvard though without tenure. This nags at him as he enters the lecture he was searching for, book in hand.

 

A Dr. A. Reed was teaching. He isn’t sure if he is searching for a man or woman, as the book has no author’s photo. He just knows he needs to speak to this A. Reed. He has some questions. So thinking, he slips into the back row.

 

She is an older woman, he discovers. She wears jeans, a large tie-dyed t-shirt, and doc martin boots. Her long grey hair is in a ponytail.

 

“Okay everyone. This is the last class before yule and Hogmanay. You have your folders for next year when we will start the study of South America and Africa. Now would Master William and Mistress Amber please come up to the lectern.” The two walk up. Frank notes that William has red hair like his nemesis, Jamie, his Claire’s husband. His eyes narrow as Dr. A Reed continues, “Master William and Mistress Amber have the highest GPA this quarter. I am proud of them and all of you, as you all have A’s. Well done, the lot of you!” The class applauds itself and it’s star students. Frank just rolls his eyes. On the lectern, she hands William and Amber bags of things they will enjoy.

 

Everyone stands to leave. William says to his professor, “You are coming to Lallybroch for Hogmanay, aren’t you. My brother will be very disappointed if you don’t . He and Claire are looking forward to you being there.”

 

“You may tell them that I will be there and to ring me if I need to bring anything.” He nods and walks away as Frank approaches. “Hello, I saw you enter my class but I don’t think I know you.”

 

“Professor Frank Randall, of Harvard.” Arrogance drips from every word. Dr. Reed forces herself not to roll her eyes.

 

“Dr. A. Reed. How may I help you Mr. Randall?” No master honorific for him.

 

He holds up her book. “You write about the atrocities that you say the British committed against the Scots. Do you really believe this?” He refrains from showing his disgust by spitting on the floor  “What prove have you?”

 

“Mr. Randall, a relative of a certain lieutenant, I presume?” She raises her eyebrows and he nods, curtly, “Follow me. I will show you several diaries that prove it.”

 

She opens a door in the back and leads him down a small hall and into her office. It is bright and cheery. The walls are lined with bookcases. Several contain binders. Off her desk, to the side of it, is a white box. It is hermetically sealed, with twelve books in it.

 

“That one,” she catches his glance of it, “I can’t open. The books inside are over three hundred years old. Their contents, however, are in these binders. She pulls a few down and offers him a seat across from her. “You said you needed prove, Mr. Randall and here it is.” She opens the first page. It is a photocopy of the front of a diary, showing it belonged to Jonathan Wolverton Randall, aka, Black Jack, of his Majesty’s  Light Dragoons. “In his own words.” She turns a few pages and finds what she is looking for. Without preamble, she starts reading.

 

“The woman slapped me! She is English but married to a Barbaric Scot. I will have fun with her. I have Jamie in my hands. I was going to hang him but I think I will have some fun with him first, then hang what is left of him. That witch of a wife has taken my prize. I will find him!” She closes it. “It goes on and on. I have copies of Jamie and Claire ‘s diaries, from the same time period, that authentic what is in this one. I do my research Mr. Randall. Oh, several of the men working under him found that they enjoyed his brand of governance. I have their writings as well.”

 

“May I have copies of these? I have some questions about my family that I believe they will answer.” He is quite a bit humbler now.

 

She nods. “I will make you some copies.”

 

He left Glasgow with the copies in his bag. Entering his hotel, he orders dinner and some gin. It will be a long night.

 

Reading them through, he discovers that he is a relative of Black Jack’s and that Jamie Fraser lived in France and was only in Scotland by chance. He knows, as he boards his plane back to Harvard, that he will need to look into the history of the English and Scot’s in a different way.

[byneddiedingo]

Lillian Gish at MGM

John Gilbert and Lillian Gish in La Bohème (King Vidor, 1926)

La Bohème (King Vidor, 1926)

Cast: Lillian Gish, John Gilbert, Renée Adorée, George Hassell, Roy D'Arcy, Edward Everett Horton, Karl Dane, Mathilde Comont, Gino Corrado, Eugene Pouyet. Screenplay: Frédérique De Grésac; titles: William M. Conselman, Ruth Cummings; based on a novel by Henri Murger and an opera libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. Cinematography: Henrik Sartov. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons, A. Arnold Gillespie. Costume design: Erté. Film editing: Hugh Wynn.

Bohème without Puccini, except for a few themes from the opera interpolated into the piano accompaniment for some contemporary prints. The screenplay by Frédérique (billed as Fred) De Grésac is said to be "suggested by Life in the Latin Quarter" by Henri Murger, which is also the source of the opera libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. But the librettists took liberties with Murger, combining several characters and incidents, that are copied in the movie, so it's pretty clear that De Grésac paid at least as much attention to the opera as he did to Murger. It's very much a vehicle for Lillian Gish, making her debut at MGM. She wanted John Gilbert to play Rodolphe to her Mimi, but sometimes seems to be playing an anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better game with her co-star. There is, for example, a scene in which Gilbert acts out the proposed ending to the play he is writing, with much swashbuckling. Then, a few scenes later, Gish acts it out again with similar verve for a potential backer for the play. Their courtship is a surprisingly hyperactive one, particularly in the scene in which they and their fellow bohemians go on a picnic that involves much running about. And Gish is not content to die calmly: On hearing that she won't live through the night, she makes a mad dash across Paris to be reunited with her lover, at one point allowing herself to be dragged along the streets while hanging onto the back of a horse-cart. Gilbert poses with feet apart and arms akimbo much too often, and the starving bohemians are given to much dashing and dancing. (Among them is the endearing and enduring Edward Everett Horton as Colline.) It's all a bit too much, and I have a feeling that the print I saw shown at the wrong speed, giving it that herky-jerky quality we used to attribute to silent films before experts corrected the speed at which they should be projected. The costumes are by the celebrated designer Erté, who is said to have had so much trouble working with Gish that he gave up designing for Hollywood.

Lars Hanson and Lillian Gish in The Scarlet Letter (Victor Sjöström, 1926)

The Scarlet Letter (Victor Sjöström, 1926)

Cast: Lillian Gish, Lars Hanson, Henry B. Walthall, Karl Dane, William H. Tooker, Marcelle Corday, Fred Herzog, Jules Cowles, Mary Hawes, Joyce Coad, James A. Marcus. Screenplay: Frances Marion, based on a novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Cinematography: Henrik Sartov. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons, Sidney Ullman. Film editing: Hugh Wynn.

I'm pretty sure that any high school students who think they can get by watching Frances Marion's adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter instead of reading it are likely to be disappointed in English class. That said, no film version is going to reproduce the depth of characterization, the symbolic force, or the intellectual density of Hawthorne, so we should be grateful for what this one does give us: one of Lillian Gish's greatest performances. This was Gish's second film for MGM, after La Bohème, and it suggests that her talents were better suited to a contemplative director like Victor Sjöström -- or Seastrom, as MGM insisted on anglicizing his name -- than to King Vidor's more action-oriented style. If her Mimi in La Bohème was disturbingly hyperactive, her Hester Prynne is a marvel of understated acting. She uses her eyes and mouth and the tilt of her chin to convey a miraculous range of emotions, from stubbornness to fear, from strength to frailty. It's a pity that her Dimmesdale, Lars Hanson, doesn't match her in subtlety. He's more successful in this regard in their 1928 collaboration The Wind, which was also directed by Sjöström.

[rhythm-catsandwine]

Life Finds a Way

Master list

Chapters

Read on Ao3

Summary

It can be dangerous and lonely in the black. The only thing you can do is cling together and protect those you love. Reavers aren't the only thing to fear in the black.

Will life find a way? Or will they die an early and horrific death?

Notes: This is a Firefly Au with a few additions and changes of my own. They are in a polycule, but the main couples are Danny/Maynard and Justin/Adam.

I also have no clue how many chapters there will be, and if you think something is a reference to something. It probably is.

Chapter One: Inspection

 Justin opened his eyes and stretched. “Adam.” He gently shook the man sleeping next to him. Two weeks ago he had his own bunk. A tiny space on the ship to call his own. Now he slept in the captain's quarters, but he was just the pilot. “Adam, wake up.” 

Justin opened the hatch to their bunk and climbed up to the walkway that led from the galley to the bridge. The crew bunks lined the walkway. The two biggest were across from each other where the four of them slept.

Maynard smirked before stepping down into the kitchen to make breakfast. “You two still fucking like cats in heat?”

“Least I don’t fuck Danny in the engine bay. With the door open.” Adam squeezed Justin’s shoulder before heading to the bridge. 

“You're the only one on this ship who doesn’t.”

“You two should just move in together,” Danny said.

“We already did.”

“When?” Danny his way towards the gallery, stomach growling.

“Bout a week ago,” Justin answered then turned to head up to the bridge. 

“I told you they would.” Maynard held his hand out to Danny. “Come on, pay up.”

“How? Thanks to you we have one account. How would that work?” 

“Then you do laundry for a month. Cover both our turns.” 

“Why laundry?” 

“I need a break from washing your stinky socks." Maynard turned back to the pancakes cooking on the ship’s small stove. “Pancakes, Pancakes, sure do love them pancakes.” He handed the ship foodie the first plate of his sweet delicious creation. “Pancakes, pancakes, Danny loves my pancakes. “ 

“Danny! Will you wake her up? Breakfast can wait.” Adam’s voice came from the bridge. 

Danny mumbled through a mouthful,  that sounded something like “But a growing boy needs his breakfast.”

“Fine! I’ll do it.” Their captain grumbled as he passed the other two. Once in the engine bay, he ran his finger over the metal of her hull. “Time to wake up. It’s everyone’s least favorite day of the year.” He pressed the button that made the engine start spinning. “It’s only for a couple of days then we’ll find a job, and you’ll be flying through the black again.” Adam made his way back up to the bridge.

Justin flipped a few switches and started driving the ship forward. "Wot time is her appointment?" Their boat was due for her yearly inspection. So once a year every ship had to go to a moon located in the inner planets and let the feds look all over their beloved home. 

"Hour and a half," Adam answered.  He fell back into the captain's chair. Across from where his young pilot was. "When is-"

"Atmo in one hour. Go change.” The green and blue planet and its grayish mood slowly grew bigger amongst the stars. “ N braid yer hair it makes you look a bit more polished.”

“Only for you.” Adam left the bridge once more to pull the long coat that identified him as a captain out of his entirely black wardrobe. He was only captain because he owned the ship and he made some of the tough decisions as well as found jobs that put food on the table. Other than that they voted, without rank. 

They landed softly in their inspection slot. Adam walked down the cargo bay door which doubled as a ramp. 

"Registration for ship and crew?" The inspector asked. 

Adam handed over the paper sheets. "Firefly class B midbulk cargo ship. 6th model. "

"Name?" 

"Shadow."

"Crew?"

“Adam Thomas Jones - Captain. Danie Edwin Carey - Mechanic (and one half of security), Maynard James Keenan- medical ( second half of security and cook ) - Justin Gunner Walter Chancellor - Pilot. (the pretty one )”

"License?" Justin handed over the little metal rectangle. The inspector studied it and read the notes that came up on his handheld screen. His eyebrows raised and his mouth and lips curved down into a frown. He then looked at the man in front of him. Long curls and dressed in shorts and an old t-shirt. "You've got remarkably high marks. And you sure look a little young to piolet a ship by yourself."

"Mum said I was born to fly." He grinned. 

"I'll need one more person to look at this. "

Adam sighed and rolled his eyes." yeah. So he graduated top of his class and is already one of the best pilots in the verse. No need for that. How long will we be here?”

“Well, these Firefly models have quite a few hiding spaces. Common for smugglers and pirates to fly. So it will be two days. But I’ll give you extra night credits since you were early. How many do you need? 4?”

“Two.” Adam took the two plastic hotel keys from the inspector. Then walked over to the rest of the crew. Grumbling about paranoid and corrupt government.

"You're the paranoid one," Danny said just loud enough for him to hear.  

"Someone always stays on the ship."  That was the only rule Adam had. “Someone could steal her.”

"Only your paranoid ass thinks that."

"She was once!"

"Paul's fault," Maynard added.

"You mean the betrayer?" Adam hissed.

“Least it only happens once a year.” Justin tried to soothe the irritation in the air.

"So once a year we all have to be off the ship. Big deal!”  “ It's just a ship."

"Her name is "Shadow!"" The other three said together. 

They had split up. Danny and Maynard to stock up on food. Justin and Adam went to check into their room for the night. 

"Ask Miranda" was graffitied on a few walls, trash bins, benches, and signs. 

"Wot zackly happened with Miranda? I only heard rumors as a kid." Justin asked, walking next to his captain, shoulders almost touching. He was the youngest of the crew, and just a kid when the verse changed forever. 

"So I guess a Firefly like ours but the  3rd model went there. Found out the feds created the reavers. Apparently, they fucked with the atmo to make people more relaxed.  Some went too far. Didn't care about anything.  Not food. Breathing.  Just laid down and died. But a small population went the opposite way.  Went insane and became cannibalistic. And the reavers were born. Then they stuck the memories in the verse-wide broadcast channel. So everyone knows what they did. There were rebellions. Nearly started another war."

"But why ask Miranda?"

"Cus that was the planet where it happened.  And they had a government-created psychic that as it and which made them go there." Adam pulled the other closer by the hip.” More on this later. I need a distraction from all this stupid shit.”

“Strawberrie galaxy?” Justen read the name on the bottle of lube. “Again?”

“It’s basically tradition at this point.” Each time they had to stay in the hotel waiting for inspections to be over they fucked. Distractions could hold back any paranoia. And Justin was always the main part of the distraction. Normally Adam wanted to last longer than he did. Justin liked to push them both toward the edge and then jump over it, dragging Adam with him. This was different. The longer they fucked. The less everyone had to deal with the paranoia. 

“Where ya going?” Adam wrapped his arms around his pilot's bare hips. Dark hair out of their braids, hanging down in slight waves.

“Shower. Want to join?”

The huge tub had a bench built into one side of it. Perfect for Justin to sit on the bottom and Adam to reach down and wash those long curls.

“This feels good?” a content hum answered him. “We both needed this.” Last time they were there they weren’t an official thing. One night after they fucked on the bridge under the stars, that changed. On their last job, Justin nearly died and realized how much he cared for the captain. “Okay, rinse.”  Justin sunk down under the warm water, letting the suds flow out of his hair “No. let this sit.” Adam kept him from washing off the lavender-scented conditioner. 

“Why do ya, always do this?”

‘Cus I don’t want your curls to turn into a ball of frizz.”

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Testing: Phase One

My first test post discovery of my new abilities. Or, as Dr. Clef explained to me, just how much control over everything do I really have? I'm nervous. I have no idea of anything anymore. I do know nothing good lasts forever, so I might not be around for long. Worse, it might be my own boss given the order. I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified inside. Outside, I'm desperately trying not to show it.

I wake up in a dark room. Not just dark, but DARK. Night vision required dark. I'm on the floor, but at least in my clothes this time, not the molecule thin D-Class onesies. I'm barely given a chance to get my bearings when an intercom barks out instructions. The voice is vaguely familiar, but not much else is.

"Rabbit, wake up. Test begins. You're in a dark room. There's a candelabra in the room on a table in the chamber. Illuminate the room, please." I start fumbling around for a table, but get stopped. "Not like that, although some of the staff appreciate the visuals more than I do. Use your pyrokinetic properties only." O-okay. I light my right hand on fire, just a fingertip really. Ah. Target sighted. But... it's a bit low for a candelabra. Weird, but I light the wicks in the candles at once, going for the impressive method. There's a few claps over the intercom, but more importantly, light. And, apparently cake. I read the words written in blue frosting.

"Congratulations! You may live another day. Just don't eat this cake." The lights come on, sure enough I'm in a testing chamber. I blow a quick cold breeze to extinguish the candles. I throw a deathglare at the one way glass. I can't see them, but I know they can see me.

"Very good, Rabbit. Once Dr. Clef recovers from his giggle fit, we can continue." I hear Clef's failing attempts to stop laughing at his own dumb joke in the back. "Okay, we established she can do both cryomancy and pyromancy. Now, onto the next part of the test. Rabbit, throw the cake in the trash, but do not touch it."

"It's clearly a Mabel. Don't touch it? I probably could throw it in Mount Doom and it'd still be exactly the same after some confused future backyard geologist in Middle Earth finds it in his garden." I create a cake sized hole to nowhere, and watch as the cake falls in.

"Portal generation, interesting. For the record... Waste Management just reported a cake falling by itself into the grinders. One worker was mildly concussed by cake debris, but otherwise a successful disposal. Good work. Onto the last part. We're sending in Dr. Clef now, give him a toy." My boss walks in, gives a nod and a wink, then waits to see what I come up with.

I open a tiny rift into someplace, root around, find something plushie-like, and pull my hand out. It's a beanie baby snake, long with blue fabric but mismatched eyes like my boss. Only... it's not his color. I wave a hand over it, and as I do, it changes from blue to red with gold bands. I hand it over to my boss with a bow. He bows, and drapes the silly thing around his neck like Iceberg does his scarves. Haven't seen him this smug since our first shift of Keter Duty after giving Bright the beans.

"Test successful. We'll begin phase two next week, same time. Dr. Clef, please take Rabbit to her quarters, then both of you... back to work. Usually anomalies do not study or contain themselves." A nod at the glass and we head out.

We're walking down the hallway, neither saying a word. Out of nowhere, Clef wraps his arm around my shoulder. I stop, confused. Dr. Clef is... well, a whole lot of things, but touchy feely isn't one of them.

"You okay, Boss?" I look him eye to mismatched eye.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to be sure you are, Bunny. Not going to lie... O5 has no idea what to do here. I advocated for training, but they're still debating. Bunch of useless bloody wankers anyway. So, while technically obeying orders, we're also conducting our own tests. Test number one... how do you manage to make a lasagna so good it'd make an Italian grandmother envious?"

"By having a sort-of Italian nonna of my own. Mrs. DiLuka down the street from me used to babysit me, and as your standard grandmotherly type, a lot of it was in the kitchen. Didn't care it was child labor, I was just happy to hang out and learn. My folks didn't care, I was safe and happy, and very well fed. You left the DiLuka house hungry for only two reasons, either you couldn't eat gluten or they weren't home when you knocked. Washed a lot of dishes, but learned a lot of stuff." We head on, his arm around my shoulders.

[flowerfeast444]

you were a house on fire || h.s. {pt 6}

harry styles x oc

chapter summary: roe and harry open up more. part of roe reminds harry of his old life

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

"So if I remember to carry the one, it's four hundred-sixty-five?" Demi mumbled, her chin perched on top of her hand as she slouched over the table. A few curly bangs fell in front of her face, dusting her cheekbones. She needed a haircut soon, Roe decided.

"I think you're close?"

Roe leaned closer towards Demi's problem set to read her work, attempting to find the issue. Demi rolled her eyes, dropped her pencil on the kitchen table, and threw herself back in the creaky wooden chair. Neither of them excelled in math, making afternoons like these a throbbing pain in the ass; but Roe would sacrifice anything for the kids, even if it meant suffering through a migraine and an argument to get them to complete their homework. They may not appreciate it now, but Roe would see them to their graduation day- that's a promise.

"This is impossible."

"Don't say that," Roe berated.

The next hour ensued similarly to how it began, and neither of them saw much hope for improvement. It was only when Roe got distracted with the sound of her text tone going off that Demi fully exploded.

"You're not even being helpful! This sucks, I'm going to my room. Don't come after me."

Roe threw up her hands in defeat and allowed her sister to stomp up the stairs. Perhaps next time she'll recruit Aaron to help tutor math, he's sure to pass at the top of his class. When she finally heard a door slam, she unlocked her phone to read the offending notification.

"I'm sorry again about the other night."

Harry.

Roe rubbed her eyes until she saw flashes of color. It's not that she's angry about that night because she's not. She has always kept her expectations low, it's necessary, especially when dealing with men that clearly have some underlying issues they needed to deal with. But she's not a psychiatrist. Really, it was a matter of time before he said something of that manner; he stood out like a silver spoon in a case of rusty cutlery. She wasn't angry with him. She should have expected his arrogance, and therefore any negative feelings are inevitably her fault for not preparing herself more.

Roe pulled up the message thread between her and Harry and sent, "its fine".

"Are you sure?" his reply came immediately, followed by, "Can we talk?"

A few hours later, Roe opened the front door for Harry. She had just coaxed River to lay down without crying, and she had scarcely seen the twins since dinner. As the clock ticked nearer to eleven, Roe accepted her siblings' contentment in hiding away in their bedrooms. As per usual on Wednesday nights, the oldest two brothers were still at work

"Thanks for letting me come over," he said.

Roe nodded her head once and smiled, unable to think of an appropriate response. She knew his intentions were good-willed based on the minimal texts they exchanged, but the anxiety that came with knowing he would be seeing her house for the first time nearly caused her to refuse to see him altogether. She barely had time to clean anywhere before he arrived, and she couldn't help but obsess over the toys strewn about, the yellowing smoke-stained walls, and mismatched furniture- or lack thereof. It was ridiculous, she contended. She likely couldn't fix any of those things in a day, anyway. But compared to Harry's sleek apartment, the Byrnes were flat broke.

He followed her to the plaid couch and they sat, a pressing distance separating them as Roe's eyes trained on a stain on the cushion between them. It was only the size of a quarter, likely a drop of ketchup or baby food, but it stuck out against the loud print of the couch as if it were screaming to be attended to. Maybe she'll clean it tomorrow.

"I want you to know I'm not the kind of person who does stuff like this." he gestured between them, "I don't know, I guess I just kind of panicked when I said I'd pay you-"

"It's fine, really. We fucked, you were a dick. I can move on. I have moved on. I don't know how many times I have to say it, Harry," her voice softened, despite its unwavering tone.

"Okay, " he nodded, "we can move on, then." Roe followed his gaze to River's Hot Wheels scattered beside the other chair across the room, "I hope I'm not intruding on your night or anything."

"No, I put him to bed a little bit ago. And we already finished dinner and everything, so." She nodded.

"Sounds lovely," he cleared his throat and smiled. "Do anything else interesting today?"

He came all this way to clear the air when in reality, there was nothing more for him to say. He felt it would have been rude for him to get up and leave after only sitting on her couch for a mere three minutes- if anything it would have been a simple waste of both of their times. Knowing the kids were home gave him a slight quiver to his voice, knowing their conversation could be impeded. He pushed that thought down, carrying on the conversation as if she were any other girl and this was any regular night.

"I was just helping Demi- you remember my sister you met at the shop? with her homework when you texted earlier, but it went as well as you could have expected."

"I doubt it; you're smart, I bet you were better than her teacher." Casual flirting. Normal.

"I wouldn't put money on that, I didn't even finish high school."

"Really? Why not? I mean, you don't have to tell me. I get it. I didn't finish school either. Shit happens." Harry leaned back into the cushions of the couch and crossed his arms.

"You didn't finish?"

"No. I went straight into One Direction after I turned sixteen. Who needs a diploma when you've got stardom, right?" Roe mimicked his smile, but soon after, they were both met with a tight silence. So much for normal conversation, he supposed.

"River was born the summer before my senior year," Roe blurted, "and the twins were still in elementary school then, the boys not much older. Long story short, my parents are shitty, and my sister and I dropped out to pick up some of their slack."

"Demi?" He furrowed his brow and tilted his head back.

"No. I have a twin, too. Fae," she strained.

"Oh, does she live nearby? I don't think I've met her yet."

"No. She's not around much anymore."

The stillness returned, and it brought an itch down to Roe's bones. In a house with so many kids, she usually got on her knees and rejoiced when no one was yelling at each other, crying, or cranking the volume on a boombox. Tonight, however, she prayed for any sound other than her heartbeat ringing in her ears.

When she finally couldn't take it anymore, she stood abruptly from the couch and faced Harry, "Wanna smoke?" she asked.

Harry shrugged and nodded, standing to follow her. While she didn't exactly anticipate this happening, she luckily tidied up her bedroom this morning after River spilled his juice on her sheets. And by 'tidied up', she simply changed the sheets, shoved loose items of clothing into an empty dresser drawer, and relocated River's toys to the closet in the living room. The closet was stuffed to begin with, and she empathized with whoever is next to open it.

Together, they gently ascended the stairs towards the door at the end of the hall; a Rocky Horror Picture Show poster peeling off the center. Roe shut the door behind him and moved swiftly towards her dresser. Harry stood near the end of her full-sized bed picking at a scab on his right thumb, unsure of what to do with himself, while she jostled some unfolded shirts around until she found the jar she was looking for. She triumphantly raised it in the air before settling on the bed, eliciting a chuckle out of Harry for the first time that night. She grabbed a green pipe out of her nightstand and only spared a single glance at the man beside her before crumbling the dried bud into its bowl.

The first time Harry smoked was at his friend's birthday party. They barely passed the halfway mark of year eleven, and he still had high hopes of attending college to study something worthwhile, like environmental science. He didn't mean what he said to Roe earlier about graduating; he had thought about getting his diploma often, and he took his studies seriously. There were weekends, however, that he set his books aside and let himself fall into the stereotypes about kids his age. He never found out where they got it from, but Alex brought a few grams of weed and a bong to James' party, and, Jesus, it was a party to remember. Despite embarrassing himself by coughing immediately after inhaling the bud, his first kiss happened later that night.

He never intended on making this smoking thing a habit. In fact, he didn't smoke the entire time he was on XFactor or the first three years of the band. He hadn't been attached to the substance as Alex had (and definitely still was), but that doesn't mean he didn't crave its warmth and ability to slow every emotion. Perhaps he felt the need to prove something about 'teenage popstars'- something a few of his bandmates regarded lightly- or he simply wanted to avoid disappointing his mother. It didn't matter much. Either way, as the band began slipping into disarray, so did his conscience.

At that point, Harry stopped looking at his calendar to follow the days of the month or the week; enough people on the team and in management steered him to his next destination and never allowed him to wander too far. And there were simply too many days until their next break to be able to keep a countdown, so what was the point? Niall told him this was a depressing sentiment. He held it anyway.

So, that May (he was fairly certain they entered May by then), he finished recording his parts of the new album for the day and was sent to find Zayn for his recordings. He jabbed the call button for the hotel elevator and combed through his hair with his fingers as he waited impatiently. The closer he got to his and Louis' hotel room, the smell emanating from it confirmed that Zayn was there.

"Shut up, you wanker," Zayn laughed, Louis just shaking his head. The two of them sat perched on the windowsill, a few feet and an ashtray between them. Harry cleared his throat. "Oh, hey, Harry. Uh, what's up?"

Harry repeated their manager's message for Zayn, but he only nodded in response. Louis shot Zayn a look before taking a drag of the short blunt between his fingertips. Harry still stood in the middle of the hotel room, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right, then back to his left. So, this is how it would be.

"Well, you want a hit, or?" Zayn trailed off. Harry watched Louis comb through his fringe and wished he would just look at him.

"I'm good, thanks."

///

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I asked if you want the first hit," Roe laughed.

Harry shook the memory away and finally sat on the bed beside her. They took turns drawing the smoke into their lungs, holding for a few seconds, then releasing. He secretly held a theory that half of the anxiety-reducing properties of smoking was simply the practiced breathing. He tried to keep that in mind when craving anything more.

By the time Roe sat up to refill the bowl for another round, Harry realized he had slouched far down the wall and, oddly enough, neither of them had spoken since they first entered her room. Harry pushed himself higher. His back ached slightly, and though years of neglect were surely to blame, he suddenly held the single flat pillow behind him accountable. Roe seemed oblivious to this agitation.

"So, you have a lot of siblings," Harry said after Roe lit the fresh bowl. She didn't know whether he meant this as a question or a statement but nodded her head nonetheless.

"Oldest of six- seven if you count Fae. Most of us don't though. So, oldest of six."

"I just have one sister. She's older."

Roe hums a note of interest but doesn't prompt him any further so they fall back into quietness. If he weren't so high, Harry surely would be ticking with restlessness. Though he longed for the ease that accompanied close relationships, Roe was essentially still a stranger. Sure, they spent several hours together at Keystone or the diner, but Harry can't recall any substantial conversations. Anything he revealed about himself was surely a click away on Google, and half of the time, Roe shrouded herself in ambiguity or changed topics on the fly. Honestly, it scared him a little. He recognized that if this were to be any type of relationship that went somewhere, there would have to be some give and take. Vulnerability. That is if Roe actually wanted this to go anywhere. If not, Harry supposed he could feel content where they were.

A soft knock on Roe's bedroom door jolted Harry out of his haze. The door creaked open, but Roe seemed unconcerned as she took another hit- the bowl almost entirely ash by now. With the light in the hallway off and a single lamp to illuminate Roe's room, an odd shadow cast across the face of the man in the doorway. Still, Harry recognized him. He had been there at the diner to pick up the toddler that Roe came in with. Their connection bemused him, but he figured it wasn't his place to dig further.

"Why are you smoking that shit in here?" Lucas eyed Harry up and down but restrained himself from making any extra comments.

"Kids are asleep, window's open." She lazily pointed towards the hallway, then behind her towards the window.

"Next time consider the backyard?" He turned to close the door, "Or just trashing the habit altogether," he muttered.

///

A tiny elbow to the stomach jolted Roe from her sleep. As she blinked away the morning's blurriness, River giggled as he crawled around her with his stuffed pig tucked under his left arm. After a few moments, he settled down and sat on the tops of her stomach.

"Good morning, Jellybean. Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes! No scary pictures." He promptly put his thumb in his mouth.

"That's great! Can you go downstairs and wait for me? I'll get you juice and breakfast in a minute, okay?" Roe kissed his cheek and helped him slide back down onto the floor. Roe and Harry eyed each other shyly. She shook her head and he let out a laugh as they heard River's small feet pitter-patter through the still house. Roe covered her face with her hands and explained, "He's an early riser. The rest of the kids don't wake up for another hour."

Harry shifted onto his back but kept his smile present. He thought of his plans for the day and how they really amounted to nothing. At least, they were so simple compared to Roe's. She had a routine, people that relied on her. The only things on Harry's to-do list consisted of a load of laundry and perhaps going through his voicemails. They had truly stacked up the last few weeks.

"I don't mean to pry, but can I ask you something?" Roe nodded in encouragement, so he continued, "I saw you with him- River, that morning at the diner when he was sick. Just the way you were holding him, and, I don't know. Are you," his voice trailed off, "Is he-" He felt his cheeks darken, and sunk further into the mattress in attempts to conceal it. "You know, never mind, I-"

"He calls me mom sometimes," she laughed.

"Oh."

"If you're asking whether or not I carried him for nine months before pushing him out, that would be a no. But, if you're asking if I'm his mother," she paused and shrugged.

"I suppose I should get going then, especially before the others wake. You must have a busy day, " Harry said, "And, I'm not sure how much I want this," he lifted a hand to gesture between them, "to be public knowledge. Not that I don't trust your family, just- " he shrugged, attempting to find the right words to say so early in the morning.

"No, I get it. They can be nosy little bitches, " she crinkled her nose. "Plus, I just got out of a messy relationship, or maybe I'm still getting out of it, I don't even know, and it could be good to just be, " she let out a big sigh as she rubbed her shoulder, "casual?"

"Casual." Harry nodded.