Feel free to add if you have ideas.
** (Starred additions are courtesy of versipellis
( Writing Motivators (Please stop screaming at me computer)Collapse )
( Ideas, exercises and other such frivolities (For when your brain goes blank)Collapse )
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1 6 11 16 22 27
2 7 12 17 23
3 8 13 18 24
4 9 14 19 25
5 10 15 20/21 26
[Spoiler (click to open)]
“You look like you need a break”, Sally's voice disturbed her from her reading and Darrell looked back over her shoulder at her friend and room-mate.
“I must look awful if you're tell me to stop working”, Darrell offered Sally a lopsided grin, and her friend just rolled her eyes in response to the teasing.
“You make me sound like a taskmaster”, Sally said, “Do you want to come for a walk?”. Darrell nodded and got to her feet with a wince, her body protested to the sudden movement and the discomfort must have shown on her face.
“You have been in the same position for about two and a half hours”, Sally chided gently as she handed Darrell a coat, “You've been working yourself too hard”. Darrell laughed and followed Sally out of the door.
The evening air was cool on her skin and she shivered at the first contact.
“Anywhere in particular?”, Darrell asked as she put her hands in her pockets,
“We can just walk, see where we end up”, Sally said and Darrell shrugged in agreement.
“Probably lost”, her smile broadened when Sally swatted her playfully. A moment passed and then Sally linked her arm through Darrell's; Darrell glanced down but didn't comment on the, unusually, overt sign of affection from her friend. They walked in silence for a long time and just as Darrell was about to suggest they turn around and head back before her predication came true, Sally spoke,
“I have something I need to tell you”, and Darrell stopped walking. Sally unlinked her arm from Darrell's and moved to stand facing Darrell, putting her hands into her own pockets away from the cold, “and I don't really know how to so just let me talk.” Darrell immediately began to run through scenarios in her head, none of them good,
“I...okay”, and Darrell tightened her arms against her side, as if constricting her movement would help constrict her speech.
“I'm not good at this sort of thing”, Sally sighed and lowered her gaze, “Talking about things. But we've been friends for a long time and, I don't want to ruin that, but if I don't tell you then all these feelings will still be here”. Sally stopped talking for a moment, and pressed her hand to her forehead. Darrell felt a strange feeling inside her chest, and squirmed as she struggled not to speak.
“I'm scared I'm going to tell you and you're going to...”, Sally ran her hands through her hair and Darrell startled at the unspent tears in her friend's eyes, “That you're never going to talk to me again”. In her surprise, Darrell forgot her promise,
“You can tell me anything”, she stumbled over her words, bewildered by Sally's upset, “I can't think of anything you could have done that would make me stop caring about you Sal...”. Sally met her gaze and Darrell swallowed heavily as dark blue eyes searched her face. There was a peculiar look in Sally's eyes that Darrell couldn't place. Then Sally's shoulders slumped, and they broke eye contact. When Sally spoke her voice was barely audible,
“I love you”
“I love you too Sal, I don't...”, and then Sally stepped forward, closed the short gap between them and pressed her lips against Darrell's. Darrell froze, for just a moment, as her body reacted in an explosion to the sudden contact. Then, without any conscious thought, she returned the kiss. Sally pulled away with a soft gasp, as if she had shocked herself as much as she had shocked Darrell.
“I mean...I love you”, Sally said.
Darrell rolled onto her side with a wince and pushed her pain-induced daydream to one side. Alicia was pacing the cave, obviously waiting for her to regain some semblance of lucidity. Darrell groaned as the cave began to sway in front of her, how long had she been out?
“Are you okay?”, Alicia stopped pacing, “You look...”, Alicia stood and studied her for a moment and then her voice softened, “you look really sad”.
“I got stood on by a dinosaur, of course I'm sad”, Darrell shot back, and her words must not have come out as good-naturedly as she had intended because a look of hurt flashed across Alicia's face, “I didn't...it's nothing. Just stop walking about, it's giving me a headache”.
“You've been out of it for the last two hours”, Alicia pointed out, “I don't think you much noticed my pacing”.
“Please shut up Alicia, I'm too tired to argue”, Darrell slumped back onto the floor, an awkward moment passed and Darrell spoke again, “I didn't mean to snap at you”. There was silence and then Alicia crossed the room and sat down beside her.
“How's the head? Leg?”, Alicia took one of Darrell's hands in her own and held it.
“I really do have a headache, but...I can't really feel my leg”, Darrell felt Alicia's panic and carried on talking before her friend could start, “which is probably a good thing”.
“Not really, you might lose your leg”, Alicia said.
“That's certainly cheered me up”, Darrell groaned, but she squeezed Alicia's hand as she spoke to soften her words. A wave of nausea went through her and she closed her eyes, her entire body shuddered and she winced as muscles protested to the movement. She couldn't imagine being in a much worse position, with her own mortality being dangled in front of her, but Darrell felt strangely calm at her core. It was as if all the chaos had drained her of the strength to panic.
“I just want to go home”, Darrell said, once it no longer felt like the world was spinning around her.
“I know...me too. Not that you're not enough company for me or anything”, the teasing was back in Alicia's voice, by this point Darrell wasn't sure if it was a coping mechanism or if it really was just the way Alicia was.
“I know you enjoy having me all to yourself”, Darrell replied. She had meant to keep the light atmosphere going but something, that was so familiar in its presentation, crossed over Alicia's eyes. The light heartedness was gone, and Alicia got to her feet.
“I need...”, she brushed herself down as she avoided eye contact, “I need to go and get some more water. Do you feel up to looking at Connor's notebook?”. Before Darrell could reply, Alicia dropped the notebook at her side and headed towards the cave entrance.
It was only when she was halfway through deciphering the next page in Connor's book that Darrell realised when she had seen that look before. She shook her head, then immediately regretted it as her head pounded in response to the movement.
'It must be the headache', she reasoned, 'There's no way Alicia feels...', and then the conversation with Sally, when the other woman had asked Darrell if she had been stepping out on her with Alicia, came to mind and she wondered if her more perceptive partner had seen something that Darrell had missed.
“Oh bloody hell”, Darrell groaned, and she slumped onto her back. How could she have been such an idiot?
I went to the autism talk and somehow managed to make myself talk to Liz Pellicano. JJ was quite surprised when she saw me in an unfamiliar social situation (it has been years since she has seen me under that sort of social pressure) and she had forgotten just how difficult my autism can make communicating. It took me a long time to actually speak at all but Professor Pellicano was patient and nice about the whole thing. I explain who I was, that I was autistic, and I wanted to go into autism research after I had finished studying an MA in SEN. She then gave me quite a bit of advice and told me to e-mail her and she would give me a heads up on any suitable positions or opportunities that might become available at the Centre of Research for Autism and Education where she is Director. She then told me it would be a good idea to e-mail Simon Baron-Cohen as he did a lot of work with autistic adults.
So that's what I did tonight, sat and composed e-mails to two big names (including possibly the biggest name in Baron-Cohen's case) in autism research.
It was all kinds of terrifying, and now I am going to be anxious until I get any responses. But I did the scary things that I find really hard and that's a big step forward. I am happy, beneath all the terrified exterior.
Then on top of that I did all the editing for my other essay's publication, and that's now all gone off to be published so I'm very happy with that. In other big exciting Master related news I am also going to be working on...a something (that's what my lecturer called it) with my autism lecturer and another lecturer from the university. Essentially it will be a reworking of the scaffolding technique advocated to help teaching assistants better help students, but with autistic students in mind, so they're hoping I will be able to provide the autistic perspective. Exciting, but more work.
Then the big one is my lecturer's recommendation that I seriously consider going on to do a PhD, which is all kinds of terrifying. As a result of that I built up the nerve to ask my school if I could take half a day off of school unpaid to go to a talk by Liz Pellicano and Uta Frith who are big names in autism research; they are letting me take the half day fully paid as long as I feedback to the school about what I learn. JJ is coming with me on account of my complete failure at communication when in new and stressful situations, but considering the people there are going to be researchers in autism I don't think it'll take long for them to work out why I behave like I do. Which I think takes some of the stress off...?
On the work front Jab has moved on to Phase IV PECS, which for anyone who doesn't speak AAC mumbo jumbo basically means she uses a sentence strip to say "I want" + "desired item" which in Jab's case is pretty much food or being spun around...generally not too close together in time though thankfully. She is so proud of herself as well, and now I am so desperately hoping whoever works with her next year will carry on doing all of this with her and not take her voice away from her. Coelho is about to start trialling a Speech-Generating Device that I found hidden in the depths of the Year 6 maths cupboard (and no-one knows how it got there either). He has so far been quite resistant to any method of AAC so we're cautiously optimistic.
JJ finally found a full time job, since she graduated from her Masters she's been bouncing between agency jobs and it was having a bit of a bad impact on her mental health, but she's just been hired to work for P&G (they make Fairy apparently?) and is decidedly happy about getting to do science stuff again.
I'm sure there's more but I really can't think properly at the moment since I have that behemoth of an essay to get back to editing. Anyway, busy busy busy.
Word Count: 234
NB: Spoilers for Season 3 finale.
[Spoiler (click to open)]
Even though she told herself that this might happen, she found she couldn’t breathe. She had been a sober companion before she had met Sherlock - she knew the relapse rates. She had never allowed herself to think that heroin was off the table for good, because forever was a long time to go without a vice so strong.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, like a sucker punch to the gut, to see him like this. Sherlock had said that she had never met that side of him, the addict Sherlock. He had been right.
She had met him now.
Captain Gregson put his hand on her shoulder, tried to guide her out of the tunnel, but she shrugged him off and stepped forward. Sherlock didn’t seem to realise she was there. She didn’t think he knew any of them were there.
She blamed herself. She knew the toll Alfredo’s kidnapping had taken on Sherlock. She should never have let him go with Oscar on his own - not matter how much he had insisted. She had failed him. She had failed her friend.
She wanted to slap herself. Now was not the time for this.
Watson knelt down in front of Sherlock and lay one hand on his arm. He looked up at her, though she had no idea if he was really seeing her or not.
“I’m here to take you home Sherlock”
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Word Count: 192
[Spoiler (click to open)]Stiles couldn’t sleep.
It was a pretty common thing really, at least two or three nights a week. Just usually it was because he had gotten the dosage wrong on his Adderall or taken it at the wrong time, or he’d had too much caffeine. Tonight it was his thoughts that kept him awake.
He’d never really thought about what it meant to be human before. Not until he was surrounded by those who weren’t.
After Scott had been bitten it was like everything supernatural that he never knew existed suddenly came bursting out of the closet. Now he was surrounded by werewolves and other creatures he didn’t know were real, except they were wearing the faces of his friends.
Others had offered to turn him - make him a werewolf. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t tempted, at least the first time. After that it got easier to shrug off their offers and smile and say thanks but no thanks. They always seemed so disappointed in him when he did turn them down, like choosing to remain human was so unthinkable.
Like they didn’t used to be human once.
Word Count: 426
[Spoiler (click to open)]Merlin didn’t drink - which was probably for the best because if he was witnessing this drunk then he might be more confused than he already was.
Alright, now he looked at him again, the boy didn’t look as much like he used to as he thought. This kid had a scar and glasses…actually that was mostly where the differences ended. Or maybe there were more… Merlin didn’t think he could be blamed for forgetting how he used to look when he was younger - that had been centuries ago and he certainly didn’t look like a young man anymore. He probably could if he tried, but he had grown quite attached to the beard over the decades.
Still - there were definitely similarities in the scruffy, black hair and the skinny frame, not to mention the sarcasm and the sense of humour. Merlin could certainly see bits of himself in this boy. Which is how he justified following him to this magic school that he was off to. Hiding in places up and down the train with a cloaking spell that he had learned to maintain for extended periods cast over him, Merlin was shocked at how laid back some of these children were about going to wizarding school. He would have done anything to go and learn how to do magic properly - well anything was perhaps a step too far but he felt the point was better-made with the hyperbole.
Following the boy, Harry, into the school was a bit trickier because even if people couldn’t see him they could certainly still bump into him, and Merlin had no idea what sort of powers the teachers at this school had. What if they detected him? An old man using a cloaking spell to follow a young boy into a school was probably not the best way to introduce himself - even if he managed to convince anyone he was the real Merlin.
That was when he was convinced that this was some bizarre sign from the universe - that he was reincarnate without being dead, or that this boy was meant to be his prodigy, or something else that he couldn’t think of. On the stairs up to the school they met him, or rather Harry met him and Merlin spied on Harry meeting him. Blonde and arrogant with a sharp tongue and a taste for putting down his fellow man, he even had a powerful father.
Though Merlin had to admit, he would have thought the once-and-future king would have returned a little less weedy.
I think it is this that is making it so difficult for me to get started on my next assignment, which is ridiculous because the assignment is about autism so I should be able to write about it for days. Just whenever I pick up a pen I seem to lose everything from my mind and go brain-dead.
On a different subject, the communication panel to decide the placements of autistic children within the borough I work has been concluded, which means that from next half-term onwards the RP staff will meet the two children who will be joining us in September. This reminder of the fact that changes will inevitably be made, as they are every year, has bothered me more this year than last - because now I have seen how magnificently the staff have fucked up everything Mon and Shah worked on last year. Which means I will have to watch the same thing happen with Jab and Coelho next year, and it is a painful realisation to undergo.
Maybe I should find someway to write an essay about that and how messed up the education system is for students within these resource provisions - at least then I'd have plenty to rant about.
Word Count: 873
NB: Based in the same AU as my 12days fic, which means it’s not worth trying to work out how this fits together time-wise because it doesn’t.
[Spoiler (click to open)]“I do think you’re being a touch over-dramatic Walter”, Marie sighed. Walter Straton, The Head of the Watcher’s Council, continued his ranting as he paced the length of his office.
“He is out of control - useless, arrogant, headstrong…”, Marie tried her best to ignore his voice as she scanned the room and wondered what a Watcher did in his spare time that would allow him to indulge in such an extravagant office. She certainly couldn’t afford such extravagances…
“He is young, and young people tend to be like that, Lord knows I have a school full of them due to return come September and they’re even younger than he”, Marie sighed, “Perhaps he is just like all other twenty year olds”
“He has dabbled in black magic, he got someone killed”, Walter pointed at her as he spoke, “Thefts, joy-riding, that group of hoodlums he put together”. Marie chuckled to herself,
“That was his band Walter, they played music together”, Marie got to her feet and brushed the wrinkles out of her suit, “and he wasn’t the only one responsible for that young man’s death. Nor was it his intention to harm anyone.” All of a sudden, Walter got a peculiar look across his face, and Marie stopped, dreading what was going through his head.
“I am glad you seem so willing to overlook his many faults, Marie”, a sickly tone had come over Walter’s voice, “since you seem so keen on seeing the good in him, perhaps you are the best person to mentor him”.
“I will be returning to Malory Towers come September, you aren’t suggesting I take him with me?”, Marie demanded, “Where would I put him? Under my bed? In my cupboard perhaps?”
“Are there no positions he could work in whilst you mentor him? A groundsman maybe? Handyman?”, and Marie groaned inwardly as she realised that logistics were not going to be the route to getting out of this. She thought of more protests, about the questioning she might receive for recommending a twenty year old with no references or history of work for a job at a girl’s boarding school but the protests died on her lips. After all, if she didn’t take him on then another Watcher would under protest, and she doubted that a quality education would be received under such a situation.
“Fine, I will take him with me”, she said eventually and, from the odd look that passed across Walter’s face, the older man had clearly been expecting more protesting.
“Very well, the Council will be pleased, your actions will no doubt be commended”, and Marie thought privately exactly what the Council could do with their commendation as she followed Walter out of the office and down a few corridors.
“Here he is”, Walter held out one hand with a flourish at the young man slumped in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, “Rupert Giles, meet Marie Potts. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.” The Head of the Council practically skipped from the room and Marie barely refrained from rolling her eyes. When she looked back at Rupert, he was looking her up and down in quite an obvious manner as he took the cigarette from behind his ear and twirled it between his fingers. Assessing her no doubt.
“Wasn’t expecting a senior Watcher to look like you”, Rupert said eventually as he shoved the cigarette between his lips and lit it. Marie raised an eyebrow and began to walk down the corridor, leaving the young man to follow after her with his holdall. His long strides meant he caught up with her halfway down the corridor.
“What did you suppose I would look like?”, Marie asked.
“Old, boring, with a face like you’d been sucking a lemon”, Rupert replied without a beat, “What are you? Thirty-five, forty?”
“That’s rather forward of you”, Marie responded as they took the stairs down to the main entrance, “I’m not going to tell you, if that’s what you’re waiting for”.
“Didn’t suppose you would”, Rupert grinned, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, “Reckon you’ve had plenty younger men chasing you though, the way you look.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment shall I?”, Marie swept through the doors of the main entrance and out into the cool night air.
“Best to, since it was meant to be. So where we off to then?”, Rupert asked as he finally flung his holdall round onto his back, then slowly exhaled cigarette smoke into the crisp darkness of the night, “Your place I guess since I don’t have one.”
“In a manner of speaking…do you have a preference of name?”, Marie stopped and hailed a taxi, “Rupert, Mr Giles, Giles…”
“Don’t suppose you’d call me Ripper…”, and Marie shot him a bemused looked, “Rupert’ll be fine. So where is your place and what exactly are you meant to be teaching me?”
Marie left his question unanswered as she gave the taxi driver instructions to take them to the train station, then climbed in after Rupert. Finally she turned to him,
“Cornwall, and I’ll explain it to you on the way”
Word Count: 214
[Spoiler (click to open)]Kat jumped and knocked the files off her desk as Lilly Rush sat down heavily in the seat beside her desk. The other detective had raised a single eyebrow at her in query when Kat finally finished collecting the files from the floor.
“Do you want to know what I was thinking about this morning, when I was supposed to be looking over the crime scene?”, and normally Kat would have come back with a decidedly un-PG rated response to that but Lilly didn’t look like she was in that sort of mood.
“I have no idea Rush, why don’t you enlighten me”
“That song, Miller, that damn song”, and Kat couldn’t help but crack up laughing at the frustration in Lilly’s voice, “I can’t get it out of my head - and I’m meant to be looking at the photos from ninety one and comparing them to what’s there but no, all I can think about is squashing up baby bumble bees”, and Lilly finished her rant by pointing sharply at Kat.
“You owe me, big time”, and Lilly got up and returned to her own desk. Kat just carried on laughing, Veronica would get a kick out of hearing of how big an impact her school performance had on Detective Rush.
Fandom: Malory Towers/Harry Potter
Word Count: 386
[Spoiler (click to open)]Sally had to be in control, she just had to be. Ever since that letter arrived and her parents told her about her grandfather and what he could do, told her about what she was, she had maintained complete control. They weren’t happy when she refused to go to that school - Hogwarts - and she suspected that her subsequent withdrawal from her old school and relocation to Malory Towers was, in some ways, their way of showing their displeasure.
It was ridiculous, the whole business. Or at least it would be if Sally could find some other explanation for the things that she could do, both with and without meaning to. Even now, when she tried so hard to keep everything hidden away, things would sneak out when she wasn’t paying attention. A floating book here, a pen that inconceivably disappeared from right in front of someone, the legs of a chair momentarily changing to actual legs…
Sally was convinced it was her own mind, punishing her either for having these…these abilities in the first place, or for not following her abilities to this school of magic. Either way she saw no solution other than to close herself off even more and hope that eventually her willpower would overpower whatever it was that brought about these abilities inside her.
Which would have been fine if it wasn’t for Darrell Rivers. Darrell who had noticed that Sally was angry and tense and withdrawn all the time and instead of doing what everyone else in the form had done and deciding that Sally wasn’t worth the effort, had made these awkward and tentative efforts to include her and attempt to befriend her.
Sally couldn’t yet bear to be outright cruel to the other girl, not yet. Darrell didn’t know what Sally was like after all, didn’t know what was wrong with her. Yet as each day passed and to her own dismay, Sally found herself being drawn to the idea of having a friend to go around with. Except friendships meant sharing and honesty and other good things, and not worrying that you might blow up your friend’s maths book or make her bed vanish whilst she was sleeping in it.
Sally had started to wonder whether going to Hogwarts might have been the better option after all.
Fandom: Binding of Isaac
Word Count: 183
NB: References to infanticide.
[Spoiler (click to open)]Isaac had screamed the first time he found them. After all, who wouldn’t? He was lucky Mother wasn’t home or perhaps he would have joined them, hidden beneath the floor boards.
He wondered if the voices he heard had belonged to his brothers and sisters before him or perhaps the doctor was right, and there was something wrong with him. He had returned the floor boards to how they were before and been grateful that his Mother had not noticed they had been moved.
He shivered at night, thinking of the bones and mummified remains that lay mere metres away; he cried as he thought of how they must have ended up there. He wondered if it hurt, wondered if they had suffered. He spent weeks trying to be a good boy, hoping that if he could prove to Mother that he was good and pure and obedient then he wouldn’t have to join his siblings under the floor.
When she started to hear the voice of God telling her that her son was corrupt, Isaac knew that it didn’t matter what he did - the same fate would befall him.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 1,106
NB: Suggestive scenes, nudity, and fifteen year old characters.
NB2: Those on 12daysofchristmas will already know my lack of Harry Potter canon knowledge, this was written just to see if I could.
[Spoiler (click to open)]Albus Potter shivered against the sudden gust of wind that whipped through the stadium, and wished that he could conjure the willpower to just get up and go inside and forget all about this stupid sport.
Even thinking that amounted to sacrilege in the eyes of his family.
Albus pulled his cloak tighter around himself and rocked in his chair, hoping it would generate some warmth. He was almost inclined to cast Incendio on the small collection of rubbish that had collected at his feet and huddled up to a makeshift fire - but knowing his luck he’d burn down the whole stands. That would make him popular…
Who in their right mind would want to be out here flying around in this weather throwing a magical ball around. Then again, what sort of idiot would sit in the cold and watch the damn thing when they didn’t even like it.
They were all landing now, and he could see James jumping off his broom and striding towards him so he prepared himself for the conversation that was to follow.
“Good practice yeah?”, James grinned, his face smeared with dirt and rain and his hair windswept, “You see the turn I made when Malfoy was right up my arse?”, Albus tried not to react to the imagery of that and instead just nodded his head.
“Give you a bit of extra practice over summer and I reckon you’d been good for the team next year”, James offered and Albus managed to smile and nod and tell James that he’d like that before the other players descended upon them and his brother took off towards the changing room with them. Albus waited for a few minutes then got up and followed them. The changing room was quiet when he entered, most of the players had rushed through a shower and getting dressed to race off for supper which apparently always tasted better after Quidditch practice, but Albus knew there would be one player who took his time getting changed. Albus had worked out his changing routine, and at the same time after each practice he could sneak down and…
“Potter”, Albus jumped when Scorpius greeted him.
“Malfoy”, Albus replied after a beat and then frowned when he realised that Scorpius hadn’t even changed out of his Quidditch robes. His mind raced with fears that Scorpius had caught him spying on him - which was a generous term considering exactly what Albus was doing - the last time they’d had practice, “Uh…good practice, you flew well”. Was that even something you were meant to say to someone after practice? Or ever?
Scorpius just smirked and nodded his head in an acceptance of Albus’s words, then changed the subject, “You look like you’ve gotten cold sitting out there - why don’t you jump in the shower as well. There’s dry robes you can borrow”. Albus glanced over his shoulder where there were indeed robes hanging conveniently from one of the open lockers, and all of this being a coincidence seemed less and less likely.
But Scorpius was already stripping as he walked towards the shower and Albus was pretty damn certain that the other teenager didn’t always move his arse like that when he walked, so Albus followed him. Unlike Scorpius’s trail of discarded clothes, Albus dropped all of his into a single, convenient pile and then stepped into the showers. He could insist on going into one of the cubicles, but the part of his brain that had gotten him into this bloody mess was telling him to stay in here with the very naked Scorpius Malfoy.
He took one of the showers a few down from Scorpius and turned it on, shuddered at the first blast of water before he groaned, quite involuntarily, at the hot water. He felt Scorpius’s eyes on him the moment he uttered that groan, and he dared not look at the other. So he focused on the wall in front of him, repeated the mantra to not look over and over, until suddenly Scorpius was in the next shower over from him. Albus’s head whipped around and he couldn’t help but stare.
“Other showers were running cold water”, Scorpius said, and Albus knew that was a load of bollocks but he didn’t care. He tried to just look at Scorpius’s face, but that lasted all of about ten seconds, before his eyes drifted down over pecs and abs that he had only ever glimpsed from afar. Scorpius was pretty solid for a fifteen year old. Albus suspected it had something to do with the reputation his father had had of being something of a scrawny wimp, but whatever the reasons the results made for more than pleasant viewing.
“You spent more time working out and less time perving then you’d have some of your own to look at”, Scorpius commented and Albus went bright red. Well that answered the matter of whether Scorpius had caught him.
“I..uh…”, and he wasn’t the most articulate of people at the best of times, but Albus just couldn’t get his mouth to work when all his attention was focused on not looking any lower than Scorpius’s stomach.
“It’s quite a compliment really”, Scorpius said, as he stretched his arms above his head and accentuated his muscles as he did, “What would you do for me if I let you touch them?”
Albus lost his nerve and scurried out of the shower before Scorpius had the chance to get a good look at just how appreciative of Scorpius’s body Albus was. He toweled himself dry roughly and threw on the robes with trembling hands, by which time Scorpius strolled out of the showers with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“You’re so tense Albus, it’s not good for your health”, Scorpius said. Albus couldn’t even begin to think of how to respond to that so he just gathered up his dirty robes and went to stalk past Scorpius. The blond grabbed him by the upper arm and stopped him in his tracks,
“Since you lost your nerve this time, I’ll give you another chance. Next practice I’ll wait until all the others are gone before I have my shower. Seems only sporting since I caught you off guard this time.”, and then he let Albus go. Albus practically ran the whole distance back up to the Gryffindor common room, his mind a flurry of thoughts and half-made decisions.
If disliking Quidditch was enough to lead to raised eyebrows and concerned voices around the Potter dinner table, he dreaded to think what fancying Scorpius bloody Malfoy would get him.