First: A Zoey 101 Oneshot


. . . . . . . . . .

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked his friend, Quinn as he pulled up beside the bench she was sitting on with his mo-ped. Quinn shook her head, turning away from him and pushing her hair behind her ears. Logan got off of his motor scooter and sat next to her on the bench.

“Quinn,” Logan whined, gripping her small hand in his and patting it reassuringly. She sniffled and stared at him. Logan bit hip lip and reached out to wipe the tears from her eyes, but she stopped him, wiping them away with her own hand and smudging the makeup she had taken hours to apply.

“Do you honestly care?” she asked in a stuffed-up and very hurt sounding tone. Logan squeezed the hand he held in his and nodded. She stared at him incredulously and he grimaced.

“I know I seem insensitive,” he began, a few moments into their stare-down, “but I really care about you Quinn.” Quinn swallowed hard and looked away from Logan.

“Mark broke up with me,” she said with a sob. Logan moved closer to her and draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

“What?” he asked slightly too loud and Quinn tensed next to him.

“Yeah,” she replied after a few moments, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the comfort she was getting out of his slight embrace.

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward so that he could see her face.

“For Brooke,” she muttered and Logan straightened slightly.

“Well,” he began, “She is pretty cute…” Quinn pulled away from him and narrowed her eyes.

“Gee, thanks Logan,” she growled, standing up and beginning to stomp off in the opposite direction.

“Quinn,” Logan said, speeding after her and catching her by the arm, “wait.”

“Why?” Quinn asked, refusing to look at him, “I can’t compete with her.” Logan sighed and pulled Quinn around to face him.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said, gazing into her eyes. Quinn blinked.

“What?” She asked, slightly confused.

“If Mark wants Brooke then he can have her,” Logan whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, “in my book, you’re better.”

“Logan,” Quinn began, but he stopped her.

“I’m not finished,” he said pressing a finger against her lips, “you might be a total spaz sometimes-“Quinn rolled her eyes-“But you’re beautiful, and smart, and all the things Brooke isn’t.” Quinn bit her lip and stared into Logan’s eyes. Logan smiled down at her before backing away slightly and retrieving her glasses from the bench she had been sitting on.

“Here,” he said, placing them on her face, “now there’s the Quinn I know.” Quinn smiled at him as another sob escaped her lips and a tear rolled down her cheek. His expression softened and he reached out to wipe away her sadness. She leaned into his touch, eyes closing and her lips parting slightly.

“Logan,” she whispered as he moved closer to her, tracing his fingertips along her neck as he pressed his lips against hers. Quinn breathed in deeply through her nose, gripping the front of Logan’s shirt in her fists as she kissed him back.

“Faster!” A familiar voice screamed from beside them as they heard a horse gallop past. They jumped apart then and watched as Zoey and Micheal made their way towards one of the many school buildings on horseback.

“Wow,” Quinn said, touching her lips and watching the two on the horse. Logan smiled to himself and stared at her.

“Weirdest day ever,” he said, absently pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“Uh huh,” Quinn agreed, eyes still wide from the shock of the kiss.

. . . . . . . . . . .

“Where have you two been?” Zoey asked as Logan and Quinn approached the group later on that evening. Quinn shrugged.

“I’ve been in class,” Logan answered, eying Quinn suspiciously.

“Uh huh,” Micheal said as the two sat next to each other at the table. Quinn stared down at her food, a light blush forming across her cheeks as Logan slowly began eating.

“You okay Quinn?” Lola asked. Quinn just shrugged and stared at her plate. Lola and Zoey exchanged worried looks.

“How did it go with-“Zoey began, pausing for a moment to weigh Quinn’s reaction-“Mark?” Quinn looked up and rolled her eyes.

“He’s happy with Brooke,” she muttered.

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Logan said, looking at Quinn out of the corner of his eye.

“They deserve each other,” she said spitefully before adding, “I’m better off without him.”

“Can we change the subject please?” Micheal asked as James took a seat next to Zoey.

“Logan,” James began as he sat down, “Becca was looking for you.” Logan glanced up and nodded.

“What for?” Logan asked as he felt Quinn’s gaze bore into him.

“Something about Norwegian shampoo,” James replied. Logan merely shrugged and went back to eating.

“Okay,” Zoey said, “What is wrong with you two?” Quinn shrugged.

“Nothing,” Logan answered.

. . . . . . . . . . .

“I don’t feel very hungry,” Quinn said after awhile, grabbing her tray and dumping it in the nearest trashcan before stalking off in the direction of their dormitories.

The group watched her go for a few moments before Logan stood up and stretched, dumping his tray and heading in the opposite direction without even saying so much as good-night.

“Weird day,” Lola said as they watched Logan stalk off in the opposite direction.

“Totally,” Zoey agreed.

Every Day Magic

You’re my everday amazing
the reason I smile in the mornings
the reason I try so hard to be.

You’re my everyday beautiful
your smile sends me reeling 
your eyes suck me into your soul.

You’re my everyday lover
the arms that hold me close
the hands that brush my skin.

You’re my eveyday magic
you cast a spell on my heart
you draw me in with your trance.

You’re my everyday everything
        and I can’t let you go.

Flash Fiction: Chilly Weather, Bloody Sweater


You’ve been WARNED.

It was just starting to get cold, long sweaters and pumpkin spice lattes making their annual resurgence.

Marjorie Diaz walked down a crowded street in New York, slipping past several people and some friendly (mostly unfriendly) ghosts. It had taken some getting used to, living on this side of whatever insane magical veil the supernatural creatures of old had erected over the natural world. Especially considering her ex-boyfriend’s family basically ran the place.

The Watkins were supernatural royalty. Had been for generations. Something Lucian had neglected to tell her when she mentioned him a billion times in their late night half-asleep gush sessions. Now she’d pissed off an entire family of bloodthirsty vampires or whatever supernatural being this part of the Watkins family was. Probably vampires.

Though Patrick had seemed so normal. Then again, so had Lucian. And her entire family. Yet they had all been necromancers. For their whole lives. For as long as she’d known them. It was so strange to think about. The key Lucian had given her had unlocked so many things she hadn’t been able to see before.

Still, some part of her thought she should have known.

She was meeting Lucian downtown for Dim Sum. It had been awhile since they’d spent any time together. Lucian had moved back home after school to “complete her training” and Marjorie had moved to some dump in Brooklyn with a bunch of roommates. She didn’t mind them much, they were mostly nocturnal (werewolves).

She settled into a booth in the back of the restaurant and looked over the menu. She already knew what she wanted, but Lucian was late as always. She checked her phone just as Lucian settled down across from her.

Marjorie glanced up to greet her, but the words died in her throat. Lucian’s sweater was covered in blood. She nervously glanced around the shop, wondering if anyone else noticed.

“What?” Lucian asked, glancing up from her menu.

“Um,” Marjorie motioned to her sweater, eyes wide.

Lucian glanced down. “Oh,” she said, “I keep forgetting I gave you that key.”

Marjorie’s eyes nearly bugged completely out of her head. “How often do you do this?”

Lucian glanced at her sheepishly. “I’m literally always running late, sometimes I forget to change. It’s only chicken blood.”

“Still,” Marjorie said.

Lucian rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret granting you entrance to the ‘magical realm’.”