#my girl defied the laws of physics and she looks delighted doing it

[ranchdressing3]

this clip has me in hysterics. Tupp going “YOYOYOYOYOYO WAITWAITWAIT I CANT CLIMB THAT FAST” and Rapp just GLIDING effortlessly up the cliff is SENDING ME

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized 4/9 If You Have Ghosts

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

She was just "S" on his phone.

It was a stupid thing to do, but she checked.

He had left his phone casually on the table, and it was such a sign of trust that she was shocked. Not that she could hack into it even if she wanted to – which she did not – but because she could see if someone sent him a text, or called…

At first, she hadn't meant to: what she meant was to dig up a particular photo and show it to him when he came back in from the smoke he was having. An old picture where she was a teen and looked like a little monster with a growth spurt and braces and a Nirvana shirt. But something in her brain told her to send it to his phone with the accompanying words That's a school girl for you and then go check the notification that appeared on the screen.

And she took advantage of that trust in the spur of the moment, like a jealous little idiot.

"What are you doing?"

And another thing that always escaped her was how Simon could be silent if he so wished. A guy of his size should've made more of a ruckus when he came in, but he seemed to defy the laws of physics as he stepped into her living room, quiet as a spectre.

"Um..."

The scene looked exactly as shameful as it was. She stepped back when he went to his phone, picked it up…

"Right… Busted." He was looking at the notification of her text like it was a message from some other girl he didn't want her to know about.

And she was the one who was busted here. The whole situation had left her red as a beet and humiliated to the very core. Everything was going so well, and she had to just shit all over it.

"You have trust issues?"

"I'm sorry. That was totally uncalled for. I…" She spread her hands and sighed. "I have no excuse."

"I asked if you have trust issues." He didn’t look or sound angry. Only methodical.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

"Why were you looking at it?"

Ok, he wasn't about to leave her. Instead, he wanted to talk it out like adults. It made her a little too relaxed.

"To see what kind of lock screen picture you have?"

He stared at her with a look that said You didn't pass this test. But then, a warmth settled in his eyes, the kind of soft glint he had when he was amused with something — amused with her.

"I think I know why."

His patience was soothing. It wouldn't hurt to ask directly instead of tiptoeing around the subject and making a fool of herself.

"Yeah. I would just… very much like to know if you have this kind of thing going on with other people."

"No. Do you?"

"No."

Another small smile. The warmth in his eyes had turned into a solid glow. Perhaps it was a test, after all: Simon didn't casually do anything, least of all leave his phone unattended like this.

"Simon… Why do you want to be with me?"

"'Cause you're a Bond girl."

It made her laugh, but on the inside, she was shedding tears.

"I'm not a Bond girl, Simon. I'm a student with a lot of debt."

"I could help you with that, you know."

She was so taken aback by his suggestion that she couldn't speak for a moment. Simon wasn’t joking: he had tilted his head slightly and waited for her to accept his offer.

They hadn't even had The Talk yet, and he was ready to support her financially. It made her delighted and suspicious; was she stepping into an affectionate relationship or a transactional bond if she accepted? The last time he had offered her money ended in her slapping him.

"You want to be my sugar daddy now?"

"I'm serious. You could focus on your studies."

It appeared they were approaching the centre of his issues as well, and she sighed.

"Does it bother you that I work there?"

He didn't betray any emotion, as was probably to be expected from a man who worked in covert operations.

"Does it bother you that I shoot people?"

She, on the other hand, found herself blinking again from Simon’s flat way of describing the nature of his work. To be honest, she hadn't given it much thought. Deliberately, because she had wanted to enjoy him to the full and see where this one would go. It was no use getting upset about something that possibly wouldn't even be a part of her life.

But here he was again, in her living room, after a good round of morning sex, smelling of tobacco and about to finally take her out. She was missing classes because of him, had even lied to him that she didn't have any today — not knowing whether he could tell she was lying and keeping it to himself so he could take her out.

Her answer proved to be quite simple, even if a bit naive.

"No, if they're the bad guys."

His face lit up with a sly smirk, and his words were smooth, gilded gravel this time.

"They are. I'm practically saving the world."

She rolled her eyes at that. Overconfident, cheeky bastard… She would soon catch actual fucking feelings, catch more than just an infatuation for this man.

"I'm sure the whole world would descend into darkness without you," she said dryly, and he laughed, this time in a perfectly spontaneous way. The tight grip on her heart only tightened more.

"Simon, seriously speaking, does it bother you?"

His face slowly straightened again, but he wouldn't give her an answer. She would never have thought that it actually might upset him — after all, he was the one who had visited such a place. He had come there to see her grind night after night.

"I like dancing. It's a good workout."

"As long as the only thing you work out is that pole." It was uttered slightly under his breath, and she tried her everything to hide a confused little grin.

Was he…

Could it be that Simon "I kill people" Riley was not only jealous but possessive?

Of her?

Wow.

---

He didn't take her to a fancy restaurant but to a museum that had Albrecht Dürer's engravings and woodcut prints on display.

"You really did your homework," she commented on his choice. How the hell did he know that she was interested precisely in this kind of stuff? The rich symbolism of Renaissance humanism and the overly gothic Northern period?

"Again, not rocket science."

He had probably seen that the book he had glanced through wasn't a loan but her own. Noticed the hearty amount of notes she had scribbled on the pages... Of course. Not rocket science, but still pretty impressive, especially when the exhibition was on show only for a month. She was studying this stuff, and she hadn't even noticed.

He asked her to give him a tour and curate the display. She laughed and told him that was not exactly what curators did but proceeded to tell him as much about the works as she could.

"I have a soft spot for this one. She's like an angel fallen from heaven. Brooding, because the stairway to heaven is right there, but she can't ascend."

They had stopped to study the print Melencolia I, and she feared that she was boring Simon to death — along with feeling lame for trying to impress him with knowledge that was yesterday's news. But it turned out he had never even seen the engraving that was in her world, one of the most iconic pieces of art history. He even got curious about the heavy symbolism embedded in the work; he asked about the sleeping dog, the hourglass, and the wings on the melancholy figure.

"That's a woman?"

"Yeah. I mean… That's the usual interpretation."

The fact that he hadn't seen it from the start made her smile. Or perhaps it was the notion that Simon seemed genuinely interested in the display and her knowledge on this type of art.

"They used to think that depression was a pathological condition caused by black bile and blamed it on the planet Saturn.”

The smug look on his face told her that the conversation was about to get interesting.

"What causes being pissed off all the time?"

She would never have guessed that Simon had anger management issues. He was always so cool and controlled.

"Anger is associated with being choleric. Too much heat in the body."

"I'm too hot?"

Way too hot.

"According to the Renaissance people, yeah."

He turned to look at her, and she could feel the tingles in the air between them.

"And which planet is to blame for being too beautiful?"

"That would…. probably be considered a gift from Venus, the Roman goddess of- "

He pulled her into a kiss, and she was soaring to the sun again. How a man surrounded by such heavy darkness, who concealed his face with human bones, could hold an entire sun within him was a mystery, even more compelling than the enigmas of the Renaissance. She imagined the man with all that death draped over him and concluded that Simon was the most enthralling piece of art she had ever seen.

He broke the kiss but didn’t let her go, and she finally felt like he was someone she could trust, a man she could feel safe with. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet, but she was full, perfectly satisfied under the austere lights of the museum, amidst the whispering tourists who had no idea there was blood and sun and love in the middle of the room. His eyes weren't those of a soldier, not even those of a hungry man in a strip club. Simon was something completely different from what she had originally thought.

"Why do you wear that skull?"

His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips, a tiny betrayal of her having succeeded in surprising him again.

"Because I used to fear it."

That was solid reasoning, in her opinion. She could respect him for it. She liked the symbolism, the poetic, tragic beauty of it. The whole man was alluring… a tall, dark stranger although he was pale and blonde. His darkness was on the inside, but even that was savagely beautiful.

They went to the museum cafe after, and she ordered sparkling wine because, in her opinion, high culture demanded sparkles. This whole occasion demanded a toast — but then she noticed that Simon ordered tea. Not a glass of wine, or a beer, not even a coffee, but tea.

She had seen him drink at the club, just one scotch, but still. It wasn't a big deal; they didn’t need to celebrate what finally seemed to be a blooming relationship. But what was a big deal was that Simon seemed to disapprove of her having a glass of bubbly in the middle of the day.

"You drink often?"

"Um... no?”

She was feeling giddy, and not just because of the drink she was having. Simon’s question came out of nowhere, and the restless look on his face told her he was sincere. And then, another question followed.

"Have you done drugs?"

The situation had turned from fun to absurd so quickly that she bit her lip to hold back from smiling like a person who had something to hide. She hadn’t expected a man like Simon to give her a lecture about the dangers of recreational drugs.

"No." Technically, she had tried marijuana a couple of times at a party, but that couldn't be described as doing it.

"Good."

"Have you?"

"Never."

He was pleased enough with her answers, and the conversation seemed to have come to an end. She wanted to ask him more about this strict code he appeared to have, but before she could do it, Simon looked out the window and enlightened her.

"Father drank a lot."

It was a piece of information that equaled him giving her his gun. Giving her ammunition to shoot him with if and when the time would come. It also explained a lot.

"That sounds… awful."

"It was."

Simon had joined the army at a young age, and she had thought it meant he really wanted a career in the military, that there was a calling. But it appeared it might have something to do with wanting to get away from home as soon as possible.

"Is he still…?"

"He's dead."

---

She woke up in the middle of the night with the extremely uncomfortable feeling of not getting enough air.

When she came to, the first thing she felt was a forearm of steel pressed on her throat. In fact, there was a massive weight crushing her all around, but the most harrowing thing was the gaze she was met with, his eyes staring at her in a blank, cold, calculated rage.

"Simon..."

Those eyes were like lead, almost inhuman, and she tried to utter his name while her thorax and throat were being compressed with a gradually increasing weight.

"Simon."

He finally woke up from whatever flashback this was a reaction to and seemed to start breathing again at the exact moment the mist of icy wrath drew back from over his eyes.

"Fuck… " He took his arm from her throat, and she gasped for air and stayed still, fearing that the killer would come back any second.

"Shit. Sorry." Simon's eyes were wide and scanning her wildly, inspecting if he had done permanent damage. He slowly rose off of her and scrambled backward as far as he could go without falling from the bed.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, clearly more than a bit shocked.

It shocked her even more than the actual choking episode — to see Simon so visibly afraid.

"It’s okay," she said, wondering how many times she had told him everything was okay when it wasn’t. "I'm okay."

She rose to sit and reached out to touch him, but he flinched. Seeing a man of his quality recoil from her touch wasn’t just baffling. It was chilling.

"Not… right now," he said as he raised a hand to shield himself from her. The fresh frost in her chest only spread.

"Does this kind of thing happen often?"

What she had meant to ask was whether he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. Although it was pretty clear that he did.

"Don't know. I usually sleep alone."

He swallowed, and she could hear the gulp. Simon was still breathing heavy, and she was rattled too, but the worst thing was yet to come as he got off the bed.

"I'll sleep on the couch," he said without taking even a pillow with him.

"Don't be ridiculous," she grabbed his arm when he was already headed to the door.

"There's nothing ridiculous about this," he said, looking more distraught by the second. And perhaps it had started to dawn on her, too. What if it happened again? What if he used even more power and actually killed her through sleep? If he had really meant to, he could've easily crushed her windpipe just a while ago. Still, seeing him so evidently shaken hurt her even more.

"You can't sleep on the couch every time you come here."

Technically, he could, but she didn't want him to. She tried to find humour in the situation, to crack some kind of a joke, but everything she came up with sounded bad and morbid. Perhaps he needed some space right now. She would just have to deal with it.

"You want to be alone?"

He stared at the floor and gave her a sullen half-shrug. He wouldn't move, and she felt bold enough to view it as a wordless beg for intimacy. She rose from the bed and walked to him, then wrapped her arms around him in an awkward hug when he continued to stand there completely frozen.

The ice melted eventually as he returned the hug. A deep sigh echoed in her bedroom, but her shock had started to shift and turn into something else. Simon wasn't a perfect man anymore, not in a way that made her a helpless woman. He was perfect now with flaws and stretched the space within her heart more and more by revealing he was a human after all.

"What would James Bond do?" She whispered while pressing her cheek against the warm, broad chest that had only now started to represent safety in her world. Even after what had just happened. Something in him finally latched tightly in place, like a puzzle piece that had collided against her the wrong way but now finally found the perfect angle and fit.

He huffed. It was only a little chuckle, but it was a start.

"I bet he wouldn't sleep on the couch," she continued, and he gave her a solid squeeze this time.

"I’m not James Bond," he muttered, and it felt like another magazine to the gun she had lately been provided with.

"That's okay. I don’t even like him."

[romioneficfest]

In Another Universe

Title: In Another Universe

Prompt: Date Night

Tumblr name: 

Rating: T

Brief summary: (Modern-Day University AU) Hermione Granger, brightest young lady her age, completed her PhD in Linguistics at 25. Ron Weasley, a quantum physicist with a penchant for unkempt hair and loose ties… well, he’s getting there. However, Granger has agreed to spend a night out at a pub with him, and he’s going to try his hardest to woo her with what he knows she likes best: intelligence.

Tags: mentions of alcohol, the word “damn”

-

The pub was dim-lit, crowded, and stank of stale beer. Dr. Hermione Granger was horrified: in her impossibly neat, dry-cleaned pencil skirt and button-down, she stuck out like a sore thumb in a place she never thought she’d find herself on a Saturday night. The man across from her seemed right in his element: leaning back in his chair, his tie loose and shirt undone, a shock of unkempt red hair crowning him, it wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d swung his legs and placed his feet on the table.

Smirking at her, as if reveling in her discomfort, he waved a waitress over: “Gerda, dear! Would you please get me some bangers and mash and an IPA?”

Granger’s shock only grew: he was on first-name basis with the personnel? Gerda nodded and turned to Granger, who froze for a second before remembering she was supposed to order: “Yes, ah… I’ll have the fish and chips and a glass of water, please.”

Gerda nodded again, shooting Granger’s companion a wink as she marched toward the kitchen. He winked back before looking to Granger with a teasing smile: “Never took you for such a bore, but then again, you are wearing a pencil skirt to a pub…”

“Can it, Weasley,” Granger hissed. “You begged me to be here.”

“Where else would you be on a Saturday night? Library?” he teased her again, and she flushed. He toned it down: “I’m sorry— I mean, we can leave if you want to…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Granger huffed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s good for me to… step out of my comfort zone.”

‘And that’s putting it kindly,’ thought Weasley, taking a sip from the dark brown bottle Gerda had set in front of him. He watched Granger awkwardly sip from her glass and, realizing how uncomfortable she must be, decided to shift the conversation somewhere more familiar. “So, A Winter’s Tale.”

“Excuse me?”

“A Winter’s Tale? Shakespeare? Is that where your name comes from?”

She smiled as she took the glass to her lips again, and her shoulders lost tension. “You’re familiar with it.”

“Well, I did secondary school.”

“Good try, Weasley, but the secondary school curriculum doesn’t usually include A Winter’s Tale in its Shakespeare section.”

Damn it, he thought; leave it to Granger to know the British literature curriculum. “Fine, I Googled it.”

“Well, that’s flattering,” Granger said, raising her eyebrows. “Took time to do your homework.”

“What can I say? When you get a date with the most beautiful PhD in the uni, you’d better know your stuff.”

She blushed again, and Weasley smiled to himself: he’d gotten past the first line of defense. He decided to keep going down the conversational path he knew she’d be comfortable with: “So, working on anything interesting lately?”

Her eyes sparkled, and she finally set her glass back on the table: “God, I’m so glad you asked. As a matter of fact, we’re working on cataloging a set of Celtic scrolls we found a couple months ago— it’s fascinating.” Weasley watched her light up as she talked passionately about her work: she was a wholly different person from the demure, reserved woman who had been sitting across from him just seconds ago. He almost didn’t notice his head resting on his hand as he watched her talk, staring at her, until she cleared her throat: “Am I boring you?”

“God, no, not at all,” he said hurriedly. “All the contrary, actually. Tell me more?”

“I think I’ve talked enough,” laughed Granger, and —Weasley noticed happily— she seemed a lot more open now, relaxed into her chair and smiling genuinely. “Your turn, Weasley. What are physicists up to these days?”

“Well— a lot, actually,” he said, and he felt the familiar flame that took over him whenever he broached the subject of his work. He wasn’t at the top of his field like Granger, and he knew the other physicists often complained about his work ethic, his mess, his lack of discipline. But, in his eyes, that didn’t matter: he felt such a furor when in the lab, chin-deep in what he most loved, that he didn’t know how they could expect him to busy himself with such trivial things like organizing his files. He felt that same ardor blossom in his chest now as he talked to Granger about it (though, as he looked at her turn all of his attention to him, his heart simmered with more than fervor for physics): “A few days ago, a 2016 NASA study from down in the South Pole resurfaced. It’s crazy— they recorded particle behavior that defies all of the earthly laws of physics. They think it may be evidence of a parallel universe, where time runs backward— I mean, it’s crazy, but we can’t help but be intrigued—”

“A parallel universe? Seriously?” Granger cut him off, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and staring intently at him. She seemed genuinely interested— something that greatly delighted Weasley. “How would that even work?”

“Well, there are two big possibilities,” Weasley began. He could tell Granger was accustomed to doing the lecturing, not the other way around, but she seemed to be enjoying it. “The first has to do with the Big Bang: there’s this theory that the universe is always expanding, and when it stops expanding somewhere, a Big Bang occurs and a universe is generated; however, expansion continues in other places, and whenever it stops there, a Big Bang occurs too and another universe pops into existence. I’m fonder of the second possibility myself, honestly…”

“Well, what is it?” Granger urged him, hooked by his explanation, her eyes ablaze with the wild spark she reserved for the parts of her work she liked the most.

“Well, uh—” said Weasley, having to regain his bearings after getting distracted by how excited she seemed. “It’s the 'many worlds’ theory. According to this one, every single possible outcome to every single possible situation (be it whether the Greeks win the Trojan War or whether you decide to brush your teeth tonight) actually happens, it just happens in a separate universe. That means there’s an infinite amount of universes out there.”

“You’re telling me out there is a universe where everything is the same, but I’m wearing red instead of blue?”

“Yep, and there’s also a universe out there where I’ve finally finished my PhD because I’ve stopped pondering silly things like multiverses and learned to clean up a file cabinet instead,” quipped Weasley, and —to his surprised delight— Granger laughed.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” she told him, and the look in her eyes had changed, softened: she was now looking at him with intent curiosity, as if she was seeing him in a whole new light. “You don’t need a doctorate to know that. I bet all those stuffy physicists are just jealous.”

He couldn’t believe his ears— Hermione Granger, darling of academic convention, bashing the very scientists that embodied everything he thought she valued most. Maybe they weren’t so different after all. He felt his ears burning, a surefire sign he was blushing: “That’s high praise, coming from you.”

“You shouldn’t undermine yourself,” Granger said, swirling around the ice in her glass with a straw. “Like I said, you’re brilliant.” And she liked brilliance, she thought, noticing how flattering that half-undone shirt was on him.

A silence ensued as they both looked at each other, broken only when Gerda set down their plates. Hermione cleared her throat to diffuse the awkwardness of the broken spell, and took to her fish and chips with her fork and knife, attempting to return to casual conversation. “So, Ronald,” she said, startling him —she’d never called him by his first name before—, “tell me: in another universe, did I agree to go out with you sooner?”

“Oh, in more than one,” Weasley said nonchalantly, leaning back into his chair. “No matter the universe, you couldn’t help but be drawn to my magnetic personality and my striking good looks…” She laughed, and he smiled dimly before dropping the joking tone: “But, in all seriousness, Hermione Granger, I think we would’ve met in any universe.”

“Well, according to the 'many worlds’ theory, you do have to account for a universe in which we didn't—”

“Oh, technicalities,” he groaned, “I’m trying to be smooth here. But I’m serious.”

“In any universe?”

“In any universe. Even in one where we go to some barmy wizard school instead of uni and you’re the brightest witch our age and I’m a clumsy git who keeps screwing up whatever he points his wand at.”

She laughed fully now, throwing her head back and flashing him a full smile: “Ronald, that’s ridiculous.”

“But I’m serious,” Weasley said, daring to inch his hand closer to hers. Their fingertips touched, and she looked him straight in the eye. “In another universe, Granger, any universe, you’re the only girl I would’ve wanted to meet.”

[lovelahela]

❛ i know it's today ❜ ─ lily spencer.

⇢ requested by @windswiftcupid !

⇢ pairing: lily spencer x mc (jade)

⇢ genre: fluff, highschool!au

⇢ song: i know it’s today ; shrek, the musical

⇢ description: in which lily spencer, just another tech crew kid, likes the out-of-her-league female lead.

⇢ word count: 1399

⇢ notes: i’m sorry for the long wait esp if it didn’t end up being worth it skjfasf if u want a part two i’d love to write it!

Theatre was the bright bubble in Lily Spencer’s stressful world,  a place the inner life of the human soul comes to dance, sing and exclaim of all that really matters. High school was not an easy stage in life, at least for people like Lily, who are kicked to the side as outcasts who don’t fit in with the social norm. Maybe it was her weird love for video games, or her impeccable skill of spilling word vomit and ultimately embarrassing herself; either way, Lily made peace with being an outcast, no matter what the reason for her exclusion was.

There were people like Lily; cast aside, viewed as peculiar and “uncool.” And then there were people like Jade; popular, loved, adored by all. Jade was out of her league, of course; when you’re a hyperactive nerd crushing on a lead actor that is - defying all laws of physics and the universe - also the captain of a varsity team and the president of several clubs with outstanding grades, you realize your chances are quite slim.

She did like girls, though, so Lily never truly surrendered her dream of snatching a gorgeous, rare specimen like her.

“Spencer! Were you paying attention?” Mr. Castellanos, the school’s economics teacher, snapped impatiently at the daydreaming girl sitting at the back of her class. She had paced her cheek on her fist and was gazing dreamily at the wall behind him, igniting a spark of exasperation for what seemed like the thousandth time since he had begun teaching her.

She jumped in her seat at the abrupt yell, earning snickers from her classmates. Jax Matsuo, a fellow outcast (although he was definitely loved by the female population more than his peers, considering he was quite handsome and gave off “bad boy” vibes) nudged her playfully from behind and whispered, “Oooooh, busted.”

“Uh - I - Of course I was!” Lily lied straight through her teeth while looking the teacher straight in his angered eyes. Her heart could run whole marathons at the rate it had been beating, and her hands began to sweat. At that point, all pairs of eyes present in the room had been on her, including her raging crush.

“Oh? Then tell me what the financial gain made in transactions is.”

She gulped nervously. Shit, crap, damn it all to every hell, she swore profusely in her mind. Mr. Castellanos raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. Out of the corner of her slightly widened eyes, she spotted - to her shock - Jade waving to grab her attention. Once they locked eyes, her heart skipped a beat and a fuzzy feeling warmed her stomach. Shut up, stomach, now isn’t the time, hissed Lily mentally. Jade gestured to her lips, and mouthed clearly: PROFIT.

Lily immediately made eye contact with the economics teacher once again and blurted out the answer that her classmate gave her so quickly and panickedly that it made him slightly suspicious. He narrowed his eyes at her, but nonetheless congratulated her for answering correctly.

“Good to know you’re not completely useless in my class, Spencer. Don’t let me catch you like this again.”

Lily let out a long breath in relief and a grin resembling that of a maniac stretched across her lips. With reddened cheeks and pinkish ears, she mouthed a thank you to Jade, who returned it with the warmest smile she had ever been given.

You had better believe that particular moment was the only thing Lily thought of until the end of the school day. On her way to lunch, through Eng. Lit., during her mathematics class - the single topic on her mind was Jade. She couldn’t believe how childish she had been acting and felt as though she was back in elementary school with the biggest schoolgirl crush.

Eventually, rehearsal rolled around. All the theatre kids gathered in the theatre, discussing their plans for upcoming rehearsals before the big day. The play they were preparing for was, to Lily’s delight, Shrek: The Musical. She remembered laughing like a madwoman with the Costume and Makeup crew, who adored the idea of making the most pompous boy in their school look like a large, green ogre. It was beautiful, really.

Lily positioned herself next to the tech crew’s equipment as Jade, who played the eldest version of Fiona (she had been glad they didn’t rob her of the part for not being light-skinned), readied herself to begin singing one of Lily’s favourite parts of the musical - I Know It’s Today.

She watched as the child and teenage Fiona sang their parts beautifully and adjusted the lighting accordingly. The youngest had quite the magnificent voice, Lily knew she would go far in life. She could barely prepare herself when she realized Jade’s verse was approaching, knowing she would be just as affected by it as she always was.

“Here come the waterworks,” whispered the person in charge of the music, Nicole, jokingly. Lily poked her in the ribs with a childish huff.

Jade finally appeared, wearing a long ginger wig and a green dress that fit her like a glove. Her powerful, melodious voice rang throughout the theatre loudly and clearly, striking a chord within every occupant of the room - even their jaded and strict director, Kamilah Sayeed. Lily’s eyes glazed over with a glossy coat of tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. Her voice was beauty, music, grace. It was the promise of tomorrow, and Lily never wanted it to end.

“Lil, are you crying?” chuckled Nicole quietly, careful not to disrupt the rehearsal.

“No, I just have a tree in my eye.” Her voice quivered when she answered, and when she saw Nicole eyeing her with a single quirked eyebrow and a smirk, she huffed out again. “Both eyes.”

The blonde next to her shook her head with a knowing smile, but Lily completely ignored her and centred her focus on the singing beauty on the marvellously decorated stage.

Once rehearsal was over, Lily waited at the bus stop nearest her school to finally go home and unwind from such a long and tiring day. She stared at the blue sky above, adorned with pure clouds and the occasional soaring bird. She sensed someone take a seat next to her, but took no notice of them.

“Wow, no thank you, Jade, for the heroic save during Econ?”

A shriek unwillingly barreled out of her lips as she jumped yet again in her seat, startled by the sudden appearance of Jade. She sat next to her, the uncoolest person in the world, of all people? Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Lily avoided Jade’s gaze and stammered the worst apology in the universe, earning a hearty laugh from the latter.

“Relax, Lils, I was just joking!” Her pearly whites almost blinded her when she showcased her megawatt smile. Lily squeaked pathetically at the sound of that nickname, unaware that Jade even knew her name. “You do a great job with the tech crew, by the way. You’re a pretty cool gal.”

“I… Pretty… Gal? Cool?” The gay panic is too much for me to handle, cried the mortified teenager in her anxious mind.

She chuckled nervously. I’m in danger.

“I’m sorry we never got the chance to hang out before, I usually try to get to know everyone in the club. How about I make it up to you?” Her gaze was soft and friendly, making her feel weak in the knees despite being seated. Her stomach did somersaults.

“You - I - Yeah. Cool. Cool. SURE!” She cringed at the way her voice cracked when she all but screamed the last word.

Jade smiled warmly. “You don’t have to be nervous around me, you know!”

“Easier said than done,” muttered Lily, but it was loud enough for her companion to catch it.

“Come on, there’s an ice cream parlour just down the road! Ditch the bus, I’ll give you a ride home when we’re done.” Jade grabbed her hand firmly and yanked her onto her feet, excitedly dashing down the asphalt with a very confused but very ecstatic Lily Spencer attempting to catch up without tripping over her own two feet. A grin crept and the air grew thick with a tenderness that couldn’t help but make her breathe faster, happier.

Maybe Jade wasn’t as unreachable as the glittering stars in a night sky like she thought she was.

[grs-the-neighborhood]

Sophia Maricela Masters - daughter of Vlad Masters and Courtney

Age: 13

Height: 5'6"

Gender: Female 

Birthdate: Oct. 25th; Scorpio

Sexuality: Pansexual

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Mixed; White Latina

Nationality: American

Alignment: Young Blood Alliance (Bad)

     •She too isn't part of the group yet 

Powers/Abilities: 

     •Unnatural Strength: she won't turn into the Hulk but she can throw heavy objects at long distances when angered.

     •Genius - Intellect

     •Swordsmanship

     •Experienced Combatant

     •Rich

     •Master Strategist

     •Master Manipulator

Appearance: Sophia has her father's midnight blue eyes, but they are almond-shaped like her mother's. She has her father's nose but she doesn't have freckles. She basically resembles her mother in whom she has her head shape and brown hair. Except her skin is a shade lighter than her mother and Sophia's hair goes all the way down her back. She always keeps it in a neat high ponytail and allows a few strands of hair to hang in her face. She wears khaki faux suede overall dress, with a white, short -sleeved turtleneck crop top underneath. Then she wears brown-heeled ankle booties for shoes.

Background: When Sophia was born Vlad didn't have such a strong reaction as he did with Olevia at her birth so he decided not to take too much interest in her. Especially when, strangely, Sophia showed no signs of ghost powers he didn't care too much to train her either. Sophia is always kept out of the loop, which angers her to the max. All she's heard from eavesdropping is that her half-sister is going to Townsville for a mission to join some group. Sophia is extremely envious of her sister and doesn't hide it. They barely have a relationship since Olevia is consistently being watched while she's being neglected. Sophia busts her ass to prove that she is better than her sister and deserves most of the attention. She gets the best grades in school, she gladly attends her mother's "mom and daughter dates," and she follows their rigid schedule without complaint. Yet it still never feels like enough since all eyes are on Olevia. She watches and learns some moves from watching Olevia and their father’s training sessions and does her own research in the paranormal ghost world. She has her mother's determination and refuses to feel bad about herself. 

When comes across news about the Young Blood Alliance and their fight against the Vanguard League in Townsville, she immediately is captivated by them. She sees this opportunity to join them, as a way to prove to her parents that she's as good as, if not better than, Olevia. When her sister begins her move to Townsville, Sophia immediately beings to set up her own trip to the same city. She has some difficulty of course with her helicopter mom, but she disguises her trip as a study abroad plan at her school. She had (artificial) documents and letters from "teachers" ready to show her mom, knowing she would ask for them. Then she gave (fake) papers from her parents to her school stating she is transferring to a school in Townsville. Next thing Sophia knew she was scot-free and on the train to Townsville. 

She now resides in some apartment and is working hard to find a way to communicate with the Young Blood Alliance. She wants to offer them her skills and wealth. She is willing to do anything to prove that she's better than Olevia even if it means bringing others down in the process.

Sophia's Relatives:

Vlad Masters (Father)

Courtney (Mother)

Olevia Masters (Half-Sister)

Personality: If you looked up brat on the Internet, you'll most definitely see Sophia's face on the first page. This little girl can be downright cruel when given the opportunity; she's ruthless. Now is she a badass? Kind of, she's still young and still learning but her downfall is she underestimates many people. She's good at hiding her personal feelings in front of people, but don't tell her a secret cause she'll use it for blackmail. She's one of those fake people who will charm you but then she'll turn on you at the drop of a dime. Kind of like her father. She can argue with someone on a subject for long periods of time, she's no pushover and struggles to compromise. She's smart and practical. Admittedly she has the potential to be a good leader, her mother runs her own law firm after all, but she's bossy and has much to improve on. Out of the few things that her and her sister have in common is that she too is boujee. Sophia has an explosive temper and can lift heavy objects when in fits of rage just like her mother. 

Relationships

     •Vlad: He mostly neglected his second daughter's. He knows she exist of course but he leaves Courtney to take care of her. Courtney tries to force a good relationship between the two, but it clearly isn't working. Sophia wants nothing more than to truly please her father. Having her father's eyes consistently following her sister no matter what, eats away at Sophia's ego. She wants to prove she's the best and kisses his ass whenever the chance arises. She really admires her father. It's pretty sad but Sophia has yet to realize that it's pointless to try and win her father's favor.

     •Courtney: cares for her daughter, she's the first child she ever gave birth too. However, Sophia feels as though Courtney cares more for Olevia then her. This isn't necessarily true, but Courtney does focus more Olevia since it still bugs her that they don't get along. Courtney just wants to complete this idea of this "happy powerful family." But knowing Courtney, she doesn’t really like when people defy her. She cares for both of her daughters and just has a poor way of sharing her affection. Courtney sometimes can see through her daughters' lies, she's not dumb, but they do manage to get away with things.  When Courtney does manage to be genuinely affectionate with Sophia, she feels on top of the world.

     •Olevia: at this point it's pretty well established that Sophia envies and loathes her sister. She is determined to beat her, embarrass her, and give a full display on how weak she actually is. Sophia was a big jerk to her sister and was one of the people who made fun of her ecto-acne. At the moment, she doesn't know that her sister is thinking about being a true member of the Vanguard League and Olevia doesn’t know that she's in Townsville at the moment.

     •Gigi: Sophia follows Gigi's gossip blog and enjoys learning interesting information about people that she could possibly use against them. Although, Sophia isn’t into cheering, she is impressed by Gigi's physical skills. She also finds the gadgets that she uses very interesting and asks her about them often. Even though she can find Gigi overbearing and very nosey, she does enjoy gossiping about people with her at school.  She finds it extremely entertaining making fun of people.

Quotes: 

(Fighting against some random do-gooder)

Sophia felt a delightful grin stretch across her face as she watched the weakling cradle his broken arm. She got a slight thrill in their suffering and calmly said, "I show the weak no mercy."

~~~

(Speaking with Gigi at school)

Sophia was completely zoned out as Gigi's not stop talking became nothing but static noise. It never fails to surprise her how long and detailed Gigi's nonstop tangents about people could last. But as she was contemplating walking away from this one-sided conversation, something she said had finally caught Sophia's attention.

"Wait--stop, what did you say?"

"Say about what? The guy who's cheating on his girlfriend? The girl on my squad, who's totally bringing our team down? The gross girl in my Alliance--"

"YES! Yes, Alliance! What Alliance are you referring to?" Sophia cut her off before she could continue

Gigi eyed her suspiciously, especially after she so rudely stopped her mid-sentence. "What do you think I'm referring to?"

Sophia glanced around the room, making sure there were no wandering eyes or listening ears on their conversation. She looked back to Gigi and into her eyes, "The Young Blood Alliance. Are you…with them?"

Gigi smirked, "I might be… Why? Are you interested?"

Sophia smirked back, "Very, interested."

Trivia:

     •Sophia is Greek for wisdom (which she often lacks) and skill (which she does have).

     •Sophia's zodiac describes her well for the traits of a zodiac are strong-willed, passionate, jealous, and secretive.

     •She has a penchant for bad boys/girls like her mom. They easily influence her, which always leads to nothing good.

     •Sophia also only carries cash on her

     •She speaks fluent Spanish and English. Doesn't know a lick of French.

     •She lactose-intolerant

     •She is part of the Speech and Debate club at school

     •She knows how to play the violin

     •Sophia's not really interested in pop culture but she does enjoy watching trashy TV shows like Maury, Jerry Springer, etc. She even enjoys reality shows.

Story:

Perfect 

“Father, I managed to make the top 10% at school today!”

Sophia stood eagerly next to a seated Vlad in their grand dinning room. Vlad took a sip of his tea and continued to flip through the newspaper. 

“That’s wonderful dear…” he said not looking at her.

Sophia fidgeted from side to side, “Thank you! I was also given the position of team leader for our speech and debate club!” 

Her father simply flipped to another page 

“We’re going to our first competition next week! Is it possible that you could sign these papers so I can—” 

“Did you share this with your mother?” he cut her off harshly

Sophia flinched, “No, I—”

“Then maybe you should. I’m quite busy at the moment.”

He still has yet to look at her. Sophia bowed her head, mumbling a quiet ‘yes, father,’ and walked out of the dinning room. 

Red-hot embarrassment encased her entire mind; Sophia basically made a fool out of herself in front of her dad. Not once did he look at her, she must have seemed like some annoying little girl when standing next to him.

I bet Olevia never felt this way. I bet father would have looked at her. The thought made her stop in her tracks. 

Olevia.

Perfect Olevia.

Anger joined in with Sophia’s whirlwind of emotions and she continued forward, practically stomping now towards her mother’s office.

She stood in front of her mother’s office and knocked three times. She knew her mother was definitely in there during these hours.

“Mother, it’s me. I need to speak with you.”

She heard her mom give permission through the door and Sophia pushed it open and closed it behind her once she entered.

Courtney sat behind her grand oak desk that held a large computer screen, which blocked her face. Courtney looked around it and smiled at her daughter’s presence.

“Hello, my little Sophia! Come sit!” she pointed at the chair in front of her, which Sophia slowly made her way over to.

Once seated she waited for her mother to close any documents that were open on her screen. When she was finished, she got up from her chair and moved to sit on top of the desk completely facing her daughter.

“So, I’m going to assume this is about school. Did the rankings come in today?”

Sophia nodded.

“And?” 

 “I made top 10%”

 “Oh…” Courtney grimaced, 

“Not top 5%?” 

 Sophia shook her head solemnly, her embarrassment increasing even more.

 “Well that’s unacceptable. We’ll just have to push your study time, now won’t 

we?” Courtney crossed her arms.

 “How did speech and debate go?” 

 “They appointed me team leader.” Courtney’s face shifted into a smile and she clapped her hands,

 “Excellent! That’s the kind of information I like to hear!” Sophia felt herself loosen a bit from the praise she was finally able to receive. It’s not much but it makes her feel a bit better. She allowed herself to smile a little, 

“Yes, next week is our first competition so I need to get these papers signed.” Her mother nodded eagerly,

 “Of course! Oh, I can’t wait to tell Olevia this! She’ll be so happy that you finally became a leader of a club! Did you know she was the leader of two groups in high school?” Sophia’s smiled completely wiped off her face and she said tensely through gritted teeth. 

“No, I didn’t.”

 “Yes, our lovely Olevia is so perfect!” Courtney exclaimed.

 Yeah, perfect Olevia.

Sophia belong to lordgrape

[eidolon-zephyr]

A Flight of Fancy Intro

Fandom: Twilight Pairing: Aro/Bella Rating: M

Story Summary: She was different. A curiosity for him to explore, categorize, then cast away. Why, then, was he still tracking her seven years after seeing her in that cursed sunny town? Why was still he not satisfied? An opportunity falls into his lap that he simply can’t pass up. What will it lead to? An Aro and Bella story.

Next: Here

The first time he met her was when she was ten years old. The window of his hotel suite was open so he could idly watch the insignificant mice run about, rushing through their fleeting lives as if there were a physical clock above their heads. Which, he supposed with a faint twitch of his lips, wasn’t necessarily wrong. Humans’ lives were almost disappointingly short. It led to them sprinting headlong through their short existence in a vivid and violent explosion of color and life that was second only in beauty to the taste and smell of their blood. Aro was not an immortal that chose to ignore what humans did. Information was important, after all. He never involved himself, however, because while he was curious, he was not foolish. Humanity, beautiful as it was, was dangerous. Nonetheless, seeing the wondrous things they could create in their limited lifespan was absolutely fascinating. One such thing was held in his hand and his bright red eyes traced the smooth lines of the small silver phone as he ran a thumb across its surface. Such wondrous little inventions, he thought with a soft huff of air. He abruptly went rigid as he breathed in, nearly crushing the phone in his palm, completely ignoring the soft calls of “Master?” from behind him.

That smell…

He was no longer in a hotel room waiting for night to fall before exterminating a reckless coven in the American Southwest, but in the house of his human life, a house he was sure he’d forgotten over the millennia, in Greece. The sun was warm upon his shoulders, and a light sea breeze weaved through his dark hair. He stood to one side of his family’s courtyard, one hand splayed against the wall of his home, the rough brick warm beneath his fingertips. In an array of purples, white, and yellow, flowers grew along the edges and center of the courtyard, a product of his sister’s caring guidance. He breathed in their scent, smiling to himself.

Crocuses.

Aro blinked, dismissing the imagery, and leaned toward the window, pressing against it almost desperately to locate the source of that treasured smell. Below his window on the sidewalk, he saw a small girl in a white and blue sundress on her hands and knees, her tiny hands clenched into tight fists. The woman standing next to her, a rather unremarkable human with wavy brown hair and blue eyes, sighed sharply and put her hands on her hips.

“Again, Bella?”

Bella.

“Sorry, I’m fine,” came the soft reply.

The woman knelt down and offered a hand to help the girl up.

“Come on, honey, we’re going to be late to the movie.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The little girl pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the proffered hand, and winced slightly. Aro narrowed his eyes and swallowed down the reflexive pooling of venom as he caught sight of the blood on her knee. So it was her blood that was the source of the smell? Interesting. He continued to observe as she bravely fought to not show the pain on her face. With a slight limp, she followed behind her mother, one hand reaching to grab the woman’s hand (she had too much pride to accept help, but was still enough of a child to seek comfort in spite of it, then; Aro found this both amusing and delightful) and the other tangling in her own mahogany locks, tugging slightly. Was it in nervousness or agitation? For some reason – which set off a faint, niggling curiosity in the back of his mind – he wished he knew. To Aro’s surprise, as Bella turned her head this way and that, she turned her head up and made eye contact with him, causing him to stop breathing. No, wait. Perhaps she hadn’t seen, as her eyes swept past. Her attention went back to her feet in deep concentration, possibly to prevent another tumble. He took an unnecessary breath, shoving down the peculiar tingle spreading through his limbs. Why was he feeling this way?

“Master? What is wrong?”

He waved a hand distractedly, following Bella with his eyes until they rounded a corner where he lost sight of them.

“Nothing at all, dear Jane. That little human simply fascinates me.”

He heard more than saw her face crinkling in confusion and mild distaste.

“Would you like for one of us to fetch her, Master?”

For a split moment, Aro seriously considered the idea. He could find out why this young human smelled like home, kill her, and be done with it, letting it be categorized and filed away with no further thought on the matter. But no. Simply killing her would not do. That would spoil the fun, now wouldn’t it?

“No. We will let this one live. In fact…” he allowed a pleased little grin to form, inwardly excited at the idea developing in his head. He turned to face Jane, paying no mind to her perpetually blank look. His hands folded on his lap and one leg propped itself on his knee.

“After we are done with this silly little coven that thought they could dare defy our laws, I am tasking you with an extended mission.”

Jane blinked.

“A mission, Master?”

“Indeed. I want you to follow that human and provide me with monthly reports. If you must, I am authorizing you to take Demetri with you if you are at any point unable to find her.”

The small vampire was silent for a moment as she processed the request, not allowing any emotion to show on her face, before replying.

“Of course, Master. What shall the reports consist of?”

She didn’t ask about why he wanted to keep tabs on the girl. Good. It was not really her place, or any of the Guard’s, to ask for reasons behind his decisions. He raised a hand in a casual gesture, tilting his head to emphasize the effect.

“Whatever information you feel would be pertinent. I shall trust your judgment in this matter.”

Another moment passed before she nodded minutely, bowing slightly at the waist.

“It shall be done.”

The last vampire squirmed in Aro’s grip, a look of terror plastered on his face. The pieces of his coven mates lay in a pile, burning quickly. To onlookers, Aro appeared benevolent, holding the kneeling vampire’s face in a way that seemed deceptively gentle. His expression was almost sad, like a disappointed parent. Tears of venom were pooled in his captive’s eyes, never to spill.

“M’lord, Master Aro, please, we didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I won’t do it anymore I swear, please, just let me go, please, I promise, I promise I won’t, please–”

“Shh, shh. You should have known better, Mister Ames. You know I simply cannot allow any of our kind to go unchecked. It is a danger to our world. Your actions almost exposed us to the humans, and we do not want that, do we?”

Ames shook his head as much as he was able, seemingly dry sobbing in his fear.

“There, there, it will be alright now. There will be no more accidents, no more suffering. Allow me to set you free.”

With that, Aro seemed to barely flick his wrists and the vampire’s head was detached with a metallic screech, cutting off whatever pleas may have come after. Jane and Demetri pulled the rest of the body apart and added it to the pile of burning corpses. Aro sighed lightly to himself, brushing his hands off on the edge of his suit jacket.

“Distasteful,” he intoned softly, but then he rounded on his guard and clapped his hands together, a genial smile on his face.

“Now then, with this matter completed, you should begin on your new mission posthaste! I trust the first report will be in my grasp within the next week. Thereafter, your reports will be expected on the first of each new month. Please do not tarry, my dear.”

It looked like Jane wanted to say something, but instead clenched her jaw and made a short, stiff bow. Aro waved after her as she walked off, smiling.

“Do be safe!”

There was no reply, and the elder vampire chuckled to himself. Even if she didn’t like it, she would do as he said. She had no choice in the matter. And that was precisely how he liked it.

Report 1:

Full name: Isabella Marie Swan

Blood Type: O-

Birth Date: September 13, 1994

Age: 10

Progenitors: Renee Higginbotham Swan / Charlie Swan (Status: Divorced)

Current Residence: Phoenix, Arizona, United States

Disposition: Unusually serious compared to other young humans in the same age group.

 So her full name was Isabella. Aro said it to himself a couple of times, allowing the letters to roll off his tongue. It was a pleasing name. He moved to his desk, tutting softly and pulling out a spare piece of parchment.

 Dearest Jane,

I thank you for being so prompt, but may I suggest that you add a little more zest to your narrative?

-A.V.

 Jane stared at the letter, trying to fight off a scowl. This was already enough of a pain; now he wanted her to tell him a story? What was this human even worth? She sighed through her nose in an uncharacteristic sign of agitation and closed her eyes.

Fine.

He would get his stories.

 Report 1.5

Isabella seems to be exceptionally clumsy and actively avoids contact with her peers. It is not obvious as to why yet. She is prideful and takes exception to others thinking that she is helpless.

Well he could have told her that, Aro thought to himself with a derisive and ungentlemanly snort. He’d seen that trait in her already, as obvious as the sky was blue.

She has been observed to care for her home’s flowers and plants, as well as most other menial tasks. Her mother does not seem to do much, in comparison. It almost seems as if the child is the parent instead of the adult.

Self-sufficient at such a tender age. Fascinating. It was rather uncommon to see such maturity in humans her age in this century. As he considered the information already gathered, he wondered if perhaps such self-sufficiency was not as pleasing a concept as it could have been. Young should be taken care of by their parents, not reverse.

It would take more information, more learning.

And he intended to learn everything about her, at least until he’d satisfied his curiosity and properly categorized her in the vast expanses of his mind.

All he needed was time, and he had a lot of time.

All the time in the world.