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May. 12th, 2025 12:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Buffy/Blake's 7 (Place in the Universe)
Chapter Summary: Jesse overestimates how well he and Xander are keeping the aftermath of Halloween a secret.
Word Count: 1080
Rating: Teen
Background Jesse/Xander in that Xander is oblivious
They had both prided themselves on their survival instincts. Quite necessary, in the situations they occupied. However, it appears the two had finally come into conflict, when Jesse comes downstairs for an after-dinner study snack for himself and his friend and finds both his mum and dad waiting. He’d been too distracted by thoughts of Xander (currently in his room, lounging on his bed!) and let himself get caught off guard. He finds himself sharpening, and curses that slightly, because that’s likely to come up as suspicious. Blake could manage it—hell, so could Xander, not showing a sign of concern even as a plan starts to coalesce unprompted. Maybe, as much as he liked to blame Blake for being manipulative, it was a survivor thing? Neither particularly wanted to be fussed over, seeing it as a burden for some illogical reason, rather than an act of love from people who cared. Certainly both had been through far too much, hoarding pain to themselves like it’d somehow lessen the share of suffering from the rest of the world.
“What’s up?” he asks, wary, and in response they smile almost in unison, which makes him stiffen, suddenly very aware that they’re purposefully or by happenstance blocking the exits. He could probably rush back upwards to his room and barricade the door, if necessary. Xander’s still upstairs. They could figure out something together.
At least they’re not speaking in unison, like one of Xander’s poorer horror flicks. It’s his dad who starts, sympathetic, and he at least sounds normal enough. “We’ve been waiting, and you’re still the same, so we wanted to ask. Is this some kind of possession?”
Funny, given that he’s tempted to ask the opposite. “I don’t understand what you—”
His mum shakes her head. “You know you can’t lie to us. You didn’t even try to hide the accent. And Xander has never been that interested in school.”
He freezes even further when he hears the feet on the stairs. He’d taken too long, so Xander had decided to come join them. When he turns to look, though, at least Xander’s instincts are still functioning properly, his smile quickly disappearing as he takes in the scene. “What’s going on?” he asks warily, and Jesse sighs.
He’s actually fairly certain that this isn’t strange or evil afoot, just poor planning on their part. “They know, Xan.”
He’s bright. It only takes him a moment. “Ah.” Another pause, then he adds intelligently, “Right.”
He’s furiously weighing and discarding options, hiding it behind the surprise, so it’s not really a shock when he finally adds simply, “Halloween had some side effects. I’m still partly Blake.”
Jesse’s about to hiss at him for not even easing his parents into it, when Mum interrupts, sounding exceedingly cheerful and upbeat. “That makes so much sense! So Jesse must still be partly Avon.”
He turns to Xander for some sort of explanation, only for his infuriating friend to just...shrug at him. He hates that mild, innocent look. It’s only pulled out when either are at their worst, and he absolutely loathes it. True, it’s probably a defense—they don’t show it, but they tend to internalize criticism, mostly from people they care about, to the point they can brood over it for weeks. But never having anyone talk back isn’t too much healthier. Jesse carefully considers and decides he’ll let it slide—this time. No harm done, and it’s not as if this might not actually end up being useful, eventually. Having someone in the know, a whole three adults who can vouch for them now—and two of which being parents besides. “I am.” He bites off the apology—he’s not good at that anymore—but his dad pulls him into a hug, and in alarm he realizes that has him threatening to cry.
“Better that than the vampire scare—yes we knew about that, but you were so embarrassed we didn’t want to make that worse,” he tells them firmly. “Though I suppose if we’re not pretending anymore, we can make sure you’re all—” he turns the gaze to Xander, and Jesse’s at least happy to see that the innocent stare doesn’t do much to put off his dad—“...being safe. Taking all the proper precautions. And we can make sure we’re informed, too.”
This is, objectively, horrible, but Xander doesn’t see it that way, given the broad grin. “Well, hungry teenagers can turn into terrible, terrible monsters—on that note, I’m starving. Any chance of a good, filling study snack?”
Mum shakes her head and rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. Jesse has now to decide whether his parents or his friend are worse, in this scenario. It’s a tight competition. “Your dad made cupcakes today.”
“Ooh. You’re the best, Mr. McNally.” Cheekily, Xander goes in for a hug before popping off to the kitchen.
Jesse quickly weighs his options. It’s tempting to remain in scowling disapproval, because this is all a pain, because while getting calories into his friend is a worthwhile endeavor this isn’t particularly healthy, because he’s not dealing too well with a teenage crush. But therein lies an upsetting lack of frosting, and his parents are right—he’s been so caught up in trying to find a new equilibrium, fashioning a new self, overthinking what he’s supposed to do and how he’s supposed to go about it, that he’s been ignoring the role of spontaneity to decide his fate. So he lets himself smile. Not one of Avon’s cutting smiles, though it is a touch sardonic. An actual smile. “He’s right, for once,” he admits.
And ignores the half-muffled yell of “I heard that!” from the kitchen as he goes to join Xander to retrieve some for himself and insist they go back upstairs to study some more. Mum going back to her books. Dad joining them in the kitchen to clean up the pan. It’s...well, it’s not what most would consider normal, but it’s their normal and that’s what matters.
Buffy/Blake's 7 (Place in the Universe)
Chapter Summary: Jesse overestimates how well he and Xander are keeping the aftermath of Halloween a secret.
Word Count: 1080
Rating: Teen
Background Jesse/Xander in that Xander is oblivious
It is...hard. Avon had prided himself on his own self-control in the face of incredible curls and Blake’s tendency to lick his lips and other signs of an oral fixation. Jesse had thought that Xander deserved love, sure, but he’d been too caught up on Cordelia to really put too much thought into it. Now, though, neither of them had really thought about a key difference—the two of them together, plus teenage hormones.
They had both prided themselves on their survival instincts. Quite necessary, in the situations they occupied. However, it appears the two had finally come into conflict, when Jesse comes downstairs for an after-dinner study snack for himself and his friend and finds both his mum and dad waiting. He’d been too distracted by thoughts of Xander (currently in his room, lounging on his bed!) and let himself get caught off guard. He finds himself sharpening, and curses that slightly, because that’s likely to come up as suspicious. Blake could manage it—hell, so could Xander, not showing a sign of concern even as a plan starts to coalesce unprompted. Maybe, as much as he liked to blame Blake for being manipulative, it was a survivor thing? Neither particularly wanted to be fussed over, seeing it as a burden for some illogical reason, rather than an act of love from people who cared. Certainly both had been through far too much, hoarding pain to themselves like it’d somehow lessen the share of suffering from the rest of the world.
“What’s up?” he asks, wary, and in response they smile almost in unison, which makes him stiffen, suddenly very aware that they’re purposefully or by happenstance blocking the exits. He could probably rush back upwards to his room and barricade the door, if necessary. Xander’s still upstairs. They could figure out something together.
At least they’re not speaking in unison, like one of Xander’s poorer horror flicks. It’s his dad who starts, sympathetic, and he at least sounds normal enough. “We’ve been waiting, and you’re still the same, so we wanted to ask. Is this some kind of possession?”
Funny, given that he’s tempted to ask the opposite. “I don’t understand what you—”
His mum shakes her head. “You know you can’t lie to us. You didn’t even try to hide the accent. And Xander has never been that interested in school.”
He freezes even further when he hears the feet on the stairs. He’d taken too long, so Xander had decided to come join them. When he turns to look, though, at least Xander’s instincts are still functioning properly, his smile quickly disappearing as he takes in the scene. “What’s going on?” he asks warily, and Jesse sighs.
He’s actually fairly certain that this isn’t strange or evil afoot, just poor planning on their part. “They know, Xan.”
He’s bright. It only takes him a moment. “Ah.” Another pause, then he adds intelligently, “Right.”
He’s furiously weighing and discarding options, hiding it behind the surprise, so it’s not really a shock when he finally adds simply, “Halloween had some side effects. I’m still partly Blake.”
Jesse’s about to hiss at him for not even easing his parents into it, when Mum interrupts, sounding exceedingly cheerful and upbeat. “That makes so much sense! So Jesse must still be partly Avon.”
He turns to Xander for some sort of explanation, only for his infuriating friend to just...shrug at him. He hates that mild, innocent look. It’s only pulled out when either are at their worst, and he absolutely loathes it. True, it’s probably a defense—they don’t show it, but they tend to internalize criticism, mostly from people they care about, to the point they can brood over it for weeks. But never having anyone talk back isn’t too much healthier. Jesse carefully considers and decides he’ll let it slide—this time. No harm done, and it’s not as if this might not actually end up being useful, eventually. Having someone in the know, a whole three adults who can vouch for them now—and two of which being parents besides. “I am.” He bites off the apology—he’s not good at that anymore—but his dad pulls him into a hug, and in alarm he realizes that has him threatening to cry.
“Better that than the vampire scare—yes we knew about that, but you were so embarrassed we didn’t want to make that worse,” he tells them firmly. “Though I suppose if we’re not pretending anymore, we can make sure you’re all—” he turns the gaze to Xander, and Jesse’s at least happy to see that the innocent stare doesn’t do much to put off his dad—“...being safe. Taking all the proper precautions. And we can make sure we’re informed, too.”
This is, objectively, horrible, but Xander doesn’t see it that way, given the broad grin. “Well, hungry teenagers can turn into terrible, terrible monsters—on that note, I’m starving. Any chance of a good, filling study snack?”
Mum shakes her head and rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. Jesse has now to decide whether his parents or his friend are worse, in this scenario. It’s a tight competition. “Your dad made cupcakes today.”
“Ooh. You’re the best, Mr. McNally.” Cheekily, Xander goes in for a hug before popping off to the kitchen.
Jesse quickly weighs his options. It’s tempting to remain in scowling disapproval, because this is all a pain, because while getting calories into his friend is a worthwhile endeavor this isn’t particularly healthy, because he’s not dealing too well with a teenage crush. But therein lies an upsetting lack of frosting, and his parents are right—he’s been so caught up in trying to find a new equilibrium, fashioning a new self, overthinking what he’s supposed to do and how he’s supposed to go about it, that he’s been ignoring the role of spontaneity to decide his fate. So he lets himself smile. Not one of Avon’s cutting smiles, though it is a touch sardonic. An actual smile. “He’s right, for once,” he admits.
And ignores the half-muffled yell of “I heard that!” from the kitchen as he goes to join Xander to retrieve some for himself and insist they go back upstairs to study some more. Mum going back to her books. Dad joining them in the kitchen to clean up the pan. It’s...well, it’s not what most would consider normal, but it’s their normal and that’s what matters.
