#windsurfingthroughhell

ok i’m trying to make a dent in my fic prompt requests. i’ll try to do one per day, no guarantee on quality lol

She’d moved in a week ago, and already John couldn’t stand her.

Okay, so he didn’t know for sure that she was a woman, as he hadn’t actually seen her yet, but he felt pretty safe in the assumption, especially given her penchant for blasting Katy Perry for the entire apartment building to suffer.

John gritted his teeth and white-knuckled the handle of his third cup of coffee that evening, as that interminable song started again.

Didn’t she realize how thin the walls were? Every evening for the past week he’d been subjected to that horrible music, interspersed with loud cooking noises, feet stomping (was she jumping in there?) and off-key renditions of the aforementioned horrible music while she showered. She even showered loudly! Although, he was loath to admit, the singing had been quite endearing.

John caught a small grin reflected in his toaster and immediately frowned at himself. She wasn’t endearing, she was obnoxious. And inconsiderate of her neighbors. And he was going to confront her about it soon!

John had it all planned out. He’d prepared an inventory of her various transgressions, written in his angry scrawl, and he would march it straight over to her door. He’d pound on that door, full of righteous indignation, and when she pulled it open he’d give her a piece of his mind. She’d shape up and become a better neighbor, or he’d complain to the building manager!

Something that sounded suspiciously like Taylor Swift started playing next door, and John slammed his empty coffee cup down on the counter. That was it. He drew the line at Taylor Swift. He had to confront her now.

Her door flew open at his insistent pounding, and there she was.

Diminutive in size, with a mop of messy blonde curls framing her face, she was everything and nothing like he’d expected. John made an effort to push down the fierce, immediately pull of attraction he felt. He’d been around pretty women before, for fuck’s sake! Pretty didn’t get you a free pass on manners.

“Um…hi?” She blinked arrestingly blue eyes up at him expectantly.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be telling her off. He cleared his throat, and looked down at her shirt while he attempted to gather his thoughts. It was white, with a pink sprinkled donut on it. The words ‘donut worry’ were written in sparkly blue letters. Ridiculous, he thought, and pulled his eyes away before he became distracted by what lay beneath the shirt. He felt a blush begin to creep up his neck and flush his cheeks.

“Is my music too loud? It’s too loud, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I just get nervous being in a new place by myself. The music gives me the illusion of company. But I’ll keep it down!” She smiled, a little impatiently now, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He needed to say something before she thought he was completely mad.

“I hate Taylor Swift!” John blurted suddenly. Perfect.

The girl blinked once, twice, and then narrowed her eyes.

“What, like Johnny Cash is the end all? You know, just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s better than everything else.”

“How do you-“

“The walls are thin for me, too, by the way. Do you have to work out so early in the morning? And what’s with all the cussing at inanimate objects? It’s kind of weird.” She had her hands on her hips now, eyebrow raised, mouth set in a firm line.

John felt a smile spread across his face and stretched a hand out to her.

“I’m John. Pritkin.”

She stared at his hand for the space of a few blinks, and her lips quirked. She fit her hand in his. It was soft, and warm.

(I already told you how much I love this idea, right?!!)

AN: I haven’t taken chemistry in forever and I didn’t remember any of the experiments, so I’ll be vagueing it up as much as possible, okay thanks. 

…

One of these days, she was actually going to be the death of him. She was awkwardly going to put in just a little too much of the one chemical while he was too busy staring into those eyes and he’d get blown up trying to save her. 

But as long as she smiled at him just like this, he wasn’t sure he’d mind. 

Crushes were just so, inconvenient. And having any kind of feelings for his very engaged lab partner - that was a recipe for disaster. 

But Cassie was just… she was Cassie, the strongest person he’d ever met. An orphan who’d been through hell because of her guardian, who’d clung to her fiance because he was the first to show her kindness when she was just twelve years old and he was - older. 

He did not mean to think of the inherent creepiness of Mircea Basarab - just the thought of him seemed to mar Cassie’s smile in his head. 

John Pritkin wasn’t sure he’d ever been this far gone - not even during his own brief marriage. 

The thought of that time sobered him enough to take another look at just what chemical Cassie had in her hands. 

“Stop,” he took it from her just in time. “I really don’t want to spend another week without eyebrows.” 

looks they could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll: Marco

looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll: Rhea

looks like they could kill you and could actually kill you: Pritkin

Cassie x Pritkin: OTP for sure, as you know very well. =P  

Cassie x Mircea: Eh….this is really tough. I’m gonna say Brotp. Because like, I don’t ship them, but I can understand to some extent why others do. And I think that with some changes they could be a decent couple, but I’m never gonna ship them. 

Dory x Louis-Cesare: OTP I wish they had more love, I love how silly and giggling these two idiots are, and how they get these adorable moments of normal couple issues and trials, and I will never ever stop donkey laughing in public when I read the “diddled me over a desk” scene.

Dory x Marlowe: NOTP. This was also a toughie, but I do not romance between these two. I want a grudging respect, witty banter, a lowkey friendship, and will even accept finding the other attractive and immediately hating themselves. I do not want any romantic overtones at all. <3 

and Marco is just eyes closed and sighing

and Pritkin doesn’t know whether to laugh or make a snarky comment or agree

and Fred’s like “I mean technically she is?”

and Rheas eyes are poppin out her head

and, as @overlycaffeinatedwarmage says, Pritkin has to know where her candy stashes are but humors her about it, right? But after the shirt incident he starts stealing her candy bars and replacing them with health food, like carrot sticks and granola bars and stuff

And at one point she’s checking the last stash only to find that every bit of her candy is just gone, and she knows it’s Pritkin and she turns around to go yell at him

But he’s standing there with a little glint in his eye, making them sparkle emerald, and he smiles slowly and says

and then this happened:

They’re walking towards a portal, and Cassie’s given up all pretense. She’s been quietly sobbing for the last ten minutes and it’s a good thing Pritkin is strong because her grip on his hand is tight enough to snap bone. And he’s trying to be stoic and reassuring, because the world needs her, but he can’t help the little voice in the back of his mind screaming “*I* need her!”. He pretends not to hear it. He’ll fall apart after she’s gone; she needs him to be strong right now because if they both start crying it’s likely he’ll have to push her through the thing and he doesn’t want to do that.

When they reach the wretched thing, he turns and pulls her in close, tucking her head under his chin, closing his eyes, and just breathing her in like it’s the last time. Because it is. She doesnt know, but once she’s gone he’s going to break the portal. He doesn’t want her to come back (really, he doesn’t) because if she does he won’t be able to let her go again.

She smells sweet, with an underlying hint of electricity, a testament to the power running through her, and if he holds her longer than he should, because he doesn’t want to forget that smell, well, no one could blame him.

But it’s when she pulls back to look him in the eyes that his resolve begins to crumble. Her eyes are puffy and rimmed red,her cheeks are burning with color, her lips are bright from her repeated biting them and they’re still trembling. He can his feel his heart cracking in two as more tears slide down her face and he knows half of it will be leaving with her.

And it’s when she sniffles and closes her eyes, her features warped from the kind of emotional pain that can’t be quantified, that his own eyes start to burn. He blinks fiercely, (“it’s not time to cry yet and you’re a god damn war mages commander!”) but it doesn’t help. Before he can stop it tears are running and thank god her eyes are closed because he knows seeing him like this would break her.

His hand comes up to cup her face, his fingers brushing through her hair; he’s trying desperately to memorize the way she feels in his arms and his face is wet when he finally closes the space and kisses her. He tries to make it soft, sweet, lingering; he tries to use it to tell her everything he can’t say because he’s scared, he’s always been scared of falling in love, even though she made it seem so easy and so natural. Even though he’d fallen for her before he’d even realized.

She kisses him back, her hands running through his hair and he smiles a little, at the memories of how damn much she’s always hated it. He finally breaks away, and try as he might to stem the flow, tears are still coming, but at the very least he’s quieter than her. She’s unabashedly sobbing, taking great hiccuping breaths, her eyes clenched shut, as though looking at him would cause a physical injury. She’s clinging to him like he’s the only thing on earth that matters to her, and he knows he has to let her go now or he’ll never be able to.

So he leans his forehead in to touch hers, and holds her hands tightly in his and he whispers “I love you, Cassie.”, his voice rough and catching with emotion.