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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years

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When Marcus Met the Doctor

Author’s Note: Hey there Internet friends! So my buddy @autumnleaves1991-blog had asked me for a follow up on my original Marcus Moreno story. She was wondering how Marcus met the future Dr. Moreno. It was in an ask, but I can’t find it to save my life. I’m posting this on my iPad because my laptop isn’t playing nicely today, so I apologize if the format seems a little odd. I’m still learning! I gave the reader a last name and a nickname so I didn’t have to use y/n but I didn’t give any descriptions about physical appearance, so I hope you’ll be able to see yourself here. Please let me know what you think, I hope you enjoy - Kat

Warnings: swearing, single parenthood

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @madness-roses @bisexual-space-slut @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @cinewhore @revolution-starter @mrschiltoncat @softpedropascal @paniclana @jollyrancher87 @hdlynnslibrary @maybege @corrupt-fvcker @cyaredindjarin @scribbledghost @woakiees

Marcus was at his wit’s end. He’d been a single dad for all of three weeks after his wife decided that she wasn’t invested in being a mother or having a spouse that occasionally saved the world. What was he supposed to do with a kid that just turned 7, a two-month-old baby who started showing signs of powers, and a full-time job as one of the Heroics? He’d been up all night with the baby, Jules, because every time she woke up, she’d inadvertently started throwing things around the room...with her mind.

He had been around children with powers before, sure, but he had never encountered a child this young having powers begin to develop. Hell, his oldest, Missy, hadn’t even had her powers show up yet. He knew that each child was different, but this was way out of his league. He knew how to handle children; he loved children, especially his children. A powerful infant was not in his job description. He needed outside assistance, and he needed it yesterday.

It was a blustery Saturday, so he bundled himself and the kids up, making his way to Heroics HQ. There had to be someone there that could help. Walking into HQ was like walking into a completely different world. Uniquely powered individuals in multicolored hero outfits, scientists in lab coats, executives in suits, and a myriad of others all spent their time hustling and bustling through the gigantic building. In the middle of all this was Marcus, a dad in jeans, a grey V-neck, converse, and a leather jacket holding a bundled up super powered baby in the crook of his arm, with his hand gripping the small hand of his inquisitive little girl. He sighed, making his way to the building’s science and medical wing, trying to find the proper hallway and office number.

Finally, he found it, office 22A, the person who hopefully had the answers he needed for baby Jules. He knocked; he felt awkward just rushing in even though technically had an appointment. He hadn’t expected the door to be opened by the most beautiful woman that he’d ever laid eyes on. She smiled kindly, gesturing for him to enter. He couldn’t help but take in her appearance as he guided himself and Missy into the office. She was dressed professionally, wearing a pencil skirt, blouse, and heels topped with a lab coat, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her eyes shone with both care and enthusiasm; a soft smile graced her lips. He watched as she grabbed Missy’s hand, setting her up with toys in a corner filled with all sorts of things children loved. She was so gentle with the little girl, giving all of her attention to the child. Once Missy was situated and happily playing quietly, the woman turned her attention back to Marcus and Jules. She said something to him, but Marcus just stood there, blinking, a mixture of exhaustion and admiration rendering him speechless.

“Mr. Moreno?” a gentle voice inquired, her hand on his bicep snapping him out of his reverie.

Marcus blinked, shaking his head, willing himself to be in the present. “I’m so sorry, I’m completely worn out. Between work, the baby, and Missy, I’m just barely pulling through on my own. You can call me Marcus, by the way, Mr. Moreno just seems so formal.”

The kind smile was back as she led him to a couch at the back of the office, where they both sat down and got comfortable.

“So, Marcus, I hear that you are here to see me about your little one here. My name is Dr. Johnson, but mostly everyone around here calls me Iris. Please tell me what’s going on with the baby, and I can see what I can do for you.” She sounded so confident in her ability to assist him, not even knowing what the problem was yet.

“Iris? Is that your name?” Marcus accidentally wondered aloud.

The responding light laugh that Dr. Johnson gave him sounded like a perfect melody. “No, that’s not my name, just a nickname. One of my secondary abilities is a bit of telekinesis. When I activate that or my other abilities, my eyes turn well the color of irises, and the name just stuck.”

He nodded, absorbing the information while rocking Jules in his arms. She was dozing at the moment since this would ideally be her naptime. He studied her face, looking for what, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know where to begin, how to ask for something he wasn’t sure there was a solution for. It hit him then how young she was. How was someone so young supposed to help him?

“I sense some hesitation in you. If you have questions or concerns, I’m happy to address them. I want to be able to help you, but to do that, you also need to trust me.”

Marcus shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be rude or demanding, but this was his baby they were talking about here. It was his job to keep Jules safe, it was just him now, and he couldn’t stand the idea of her in any type of danger simply because he couldn’t figure out what to do about her powers.

Iris put her hand on his, causing him to look back at her again.

“Yes, I’m quite young, I just turned 28 last month, but that doesn’t make me any less qualified to help you and your baby girl. My greatest ability is my mind. I have nine doctorates, working on more as we speak, which doesn’t include my medical degrees. I am a doctor of pediatric medicine, as well as a surgeon for both children and adults. I’ve worked on most of the heroically enhanced beings that work here, you included, although you were unconscious at the time. I invent most of the tech that you and your fellow Heroics use every day. Those katana blades of yours, those are my work. As a father, I know that you’re going to be hesitant to allow anyone to help your daughter, especially someone who is young, like me. I assure you, Marcus, that my young age is made up for by my vast set of experiences. I would argue that I’m the best suited for this job out of anyone. Please, let me help you so that you can take care of your children to the best of your ability. Give me a chance here; I promise you won’t regret it.”

He had been expecting her anger at his hesitance, not her understanding. He was sure that he was about to be yelled at for doubting her. Instead, she calmly explained exactly who she was and why she was his best bet. Fuck, she was brilliant and willing to help. He needed to give her a chance and let her see this through, no matter how nervous he was.

“Iris, I apologize; I shouldn’t doubt you or your abilities. I’m pretty new at this single dad thing, and I’m just trying to take care of them the best I can. I’ve been doing mostly consultant work from home, but that’s only a temporary solution. I just-,” his voice broke, tears filling his eyes.

A tear dripped down his face, but the doctor caught it with her thumb, smoothing it away. She had tears in her own eyes, threatening to overflow. She enveloped him in as firm of a hug as she could with baby Jules still in his arms, letting him lay his head on her shoulder and permitting him to feel. All his sorrow, worries, and fears flowed out of him through his tears. Fingers carded through his hair, a hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, her words of comfort whispered in his ear. Marcus, you’re not alone. There are people who want to help. It’s okay, let it all out. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but by the time he finished crying, he felt safe and cared for, something that he hadn’t felt in a while, not since far before his ex had left.

They spent the next half hour discussing what abilities Jules had exhibited so far, what Marcus’ concerns were, and what he needed to be a functional parent. He explained how the baby started showing signs of power less than a week after she was born, how she seemed to be able to move things with her mind, but that he wasn’t quite sure because, well, Jules was a baby and he was sure that she didn’t even realize she was doing it. He was worried because as time went on, the objects kept getting larger. Last night, somehow, she had moved the crib in front of the bedroom door when she woke up in the middle of the night for her bottle. He had ended up having to take the door off its hinges to even get into the room. Hearing his baby crying and not being able to get to her had scared him shitless. He’d ended up staying in the baby’s room all night to make sure nothing else happened.

As they talked, Jules had woken up and was beginning to fuss. Iris ended up taking the baby, giving her a bottle, and watching her abilities while still listening to Marcus. She was so good with little Jules, holding her, gently stroking her hair, whispering comforting words when she would get fussy. He saw books begin to float off the shelf in his peripheral vision, he got up to try and put them back, but Iris’ hand shot out, stopping him. She smiled up at him, raising a hand and pushing them back in place with her mind.

“I think I have something that will help.”

She stood up, still holding the baby, and went to her desk, grabbing a tiny silver cuff. She pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, bringing up various holograms all around the room. Marcus almost jumped out of his skin when she began to talk to an AI, sorting through her research until she found what she was looking for.

“This is my own design, it’s basically a bracelet that will contain Jules’ powers and abilities while she wears it. It’s waterproof, tamper resistant, and will only open with either your fingerprint or my own. As she grows, we’ll change the cuff size and lessen the suppression. When this little lady is old enough, the cuff will come off altogether and she will have full access to her abilities. The suppression will not cause her any harm or pain, I’ve made sure to try it on myself long term to be certain. This allows you to keep her safe without working yourself into exhaustion. We can meet a few times a month to assess her progress. This should help you all get into the groove of things, Marcus.”

He took the cuff, studying it, rolling it over in his hands. It felt like regular metal, nothing special. He titled it to see the inside. There were tiny sensors evenly spaced throughout and something that was blinking green. This was far beyond his paygrade as far as technology went. The fact that the woman in front of him invented this and was willing to use this to help ensure his baby’s safety was not lost on him. He was grateful that she had a solution, hopefully it would help.

“It won’t hurt her, right? I just want to make sure. Has this been studied long term? Are there any side effects?” he enquired, trying not to get too excited.

Iris shook her head as she lightly rocked Jules in her arms. “I’ve used this on myself, as well as some other children that have had their abilities show up a bit too early. I haven’t seen any drawbacks or side effects of the cuff so far, but I want to have you bring Jules in at least once every few weeks so that we can keep her closely monitored. You’ll also have my number, please feel free to contact me day or night if you have any concerns or if anything goes wrong. I’m here to help and it’s my main priority to make sure that this sweet girl can learn and grow safely, without the threat of her powers going awry. This problem is one that we can solve, Marcus.”

He nodded, her words were reassuring to be sure. Since he became a single father, he hadn’t really trusted anyone with the safety and wellbeing of his little girls besides himself. It was difficult to reach out and allow someone to help solve a problem when the one person he had trusted the most had shattered him. Iris was giving him a solution, she was asking for his trust in her and her science. He could do that for his kids, he had to.

Marcus handed her back the cuff, allowing her to delicately put it on Jules’ wrist. It didn’t even phase the baby one bit. She kept on as if nothing had changed at all. He let out the breath that he didn’t even know he had been holding. She seemed absolutely fine, content to be rocked in the good doctor’s arms. She handed her back to Marcus, allowing him to cradle his little one close.

The two adults scheduled baby Jules’ followup appointment for the next week so that they could see her progress and give Iris a chance to check the data and run some tests. They spoke for a few more minutes until Missy came up to get their attention.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

Iris got down on Missy’s level so that she could look her in the eye. “You did so well today, Missy. Thank you so much for playing quietly while your daddy and I talked about your baby sister. I’m very proud of you.”

Missy broke out in a huge grin, throwing her arms around the doctor’s shoulders.

“Will we get to see you again? Can I come and play here more soon?”

Iris returned the hug, smiling fondly at the little girl. “Your sister has another appointment here next week and you are more than welcome to come and play in my office again. It was very nice to meet you. I think your daddy will be taking you down to the cafeteria here for some lunch, how does that sound?”

Missy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing her father’s free hand and tugging him along.

“Thank you so much, Iris, I really appreciate all the time you’ve given us today.”

“The pleasure is mine, Marcus, really. I’m here to help.”

There wasn’t much more to be said as Marcus was dragged by Missy out the door and down the hallway, chatting about what type of lunch they were going to eat. The doctor stood in the doorway, watching the little family leave, happy that she could be of assistance. She liked Marcus, he seemed to love his children a great deal and was a good man.

As they got in the elevator, Missy’s sweet voice said, “Daddy, I like that doctor lady, she’s so nice. I hope we get to see her more. She’s so pretty!”

Marcus had to agree with his daughter, he liked Iris, too. He felt a tug in his gut telling him that he should get to know her more, that she was someone truly special. He decided then and there that he would try to make that happen.

#marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #we can be heroes #pedro pascal

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desdamona-evangaline · 3 years

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Karma, Kayano, Nagisa and Sugino were excited. Well. Kayano, Nagisa and Sugino were exited.

“Are we really going to spend our Friday night looking at bones?” Wines Karma.

“Come on, they got a new exhibit! It’s the fourth largest bone found ever!” Said Sugino.

“”I heard it’s a dinosaur hip.” Chimed in Kayano.

“Plus,” said Nagisa “Koro-sesei said it would be a learning experience”

“Fine whatever”

Kayano leapt to her feet “Forget the bones!”

Exclamations of dismay ensued. Karma had just gotten on bored.

“No, no! Apples releasing a new iPad! And giving away free ones as a promotion! All we have to do is make a video about apples to win!”

“Come on, I want to see the museum.” Said Nagisa.

“I’ll help” said Sugino. “We’ll get Okajima to film.”

“Yes! Get ready. I feel a brainstorm coming on”

They grabbed a napkin and started drawing their heart stopping Apple based videos. This would be epic. Tales of Apple drama, costumes, lighting. This would be bigger than the Titanic!

“Didn’t that sink?”

“Shut up Karma!”

Karma laughed at their antics. Nagisa on the other hand frowned. “I wanted to go to the museum. It’s closed for repairs for a week starting Saturday.”

“We can still go”

“Um....” Nagisa mumbled vaguely. Things had been a tad... awkward since Karma had come back. They hadn’t really hung out together for long since the whole.... friendship break up. He didn’t want to be stressed all evening.

“Look, it’s fine. It’s not like... a big deal.” Pointed out Karma.

“It’s just hanging out.”

“”I guess. Sure”

Kayano popped up smiling. “Aww, like a date?”

Nagisa nearly fell off his chair. Oh God. Mortified.

“No, not a date” hissed Karma. “Just. Hanging out.”

“Have fun on your .not. date.” She cooed before running for dear life. Sugino looked at Karmas face and made a swift exit. Nagisa’s was trying to fight his blush. Oh God he was all red. Idiot!

“It’s not a date.” Karma said again, rather forcefully.

“Just. Hanging. Out”

“Got it.”

“See you at 7”

Karma casually walked away praying his face didn’t rival the colour of his hair. He was not going on a date with Nagisa. And his heart certainly wasn’t beating any harder than normal. Nagisa buried his head in his school bag. It wasn’t a date. Stop panicking! What should he wear?

It took Kayano took zero seconds to convince Okajima to film their video. The thought of an IPad with high zoom camera filled him with glee. Disturbing glee but glee all the same. Nakamura’s blackmail sences were tingling. A date? Between the two most oblivious boys in the class? She new what she was doing this evening. She grabbed Hinano. Now her sights were set on the boys she needed a new accomplice. The girl was easy to convince.

“Finally!! My OTP!!”

“Whatever, bring your binoculars.”

“Trust me. We won’t miss a single second of this legendary meet up”

After school Kayano, Sugino and Okajima asked/begged/bribed Koro-Sensei to fetch them costumes. Their grand idea? An interpretation of apples through ballet. The competition would never see it coming. Kayano wore a green tutu, Sugino a red ballet jacket and shorts. Okajima stood by with the camera. The only problem? None of them knew anything about ballet.

“Don’t you like.... stand on your toes? And sort of spin?”

“I think I can do an arabesque.”

“Jumping is involved?”

The bone museum was just as eventful as one could expect. By which it wasn’t eventful at all and Karma was going insane.

“Are we done yet? It’s a rock! It’s not like it can move”

“It’s a fossil and I want to look at it a little longer”

“It’s a grey rock. I’ll find you 20 outside, can we go now?”

“Don’t you think it’s lovely?”

“It’s almost as picturesque as you my darling little bon...”

“I will hit you with the bone if you finish that sentence”

The Apple ballet plot line was fabulous. Stupendous. Electronic. But the skills? Less so.

“Just twirl. Twirl. Kayano for the love of God TWIRL!”

“I’m basically standing on my big toe do you think this is easy!”

“Sugino, you twirl then!”

No response came from the pile of body that used to be Sugino. Arabesque’s were harder than you’d imagine. Okajima dumped the camera and leapt onto the podium they were using as a stage.

“Just go on one leg and spin like this!”

Kayano didn’t know exactly what happened. After blacking out for a moment she came to under a desk, Sugino’s knee on her head and Okajima stuck in a broken floor board. Time for the good old YouTube tutorial.

Karma kicked himself internally. What was he doing? Why did he say that? This was supposed to be a causal meet up between friends and he was ... flirting? Could you even call that flirting? What ever it was it certainly wasn’t casual. Nagisa was staring straight ahead at the bone. Stop blushing stop blushing stop blushing. Karma was just teasing. This was not. A. Date. He didn’t really mean it. Blushing harder under Karma’s grin, he fought off any unacceptable emotion. But.

He had called him lovely.

Hinano and Nakamura lurked behind a display of elderly bow ties. They came armed with a romance magazine including a stage by stage guide to love. Stage one. The Compliments. Already a solid start. Hinano screamed internally.

“Lovely?” Thought Nakumura. Interesting choice. He’d have to up the anti if he wanted to get anywhere with Nagisa. The boy was completely oblivious. Get down on one knee and he’d ask if your shoelaces were untied.

“I’m hungry.” Announced Karma, formally ending their bone viewing.

Since it wasn’t a date they didn’t plan on getting dinner anywhere fancy. What they were getting was barbaque food. From a literal hole in a brick wall. The smell alone was enough to throw romance out the window.

“It smells like..”

“Best not to think about it.”

“My leg is broken”

“Your leg is not broken”

“It’s broken!”

“Sugino your fine! Do the jump!”

“I swear to God Kayano I quit!”

“If you quit I’ll make you wish you’d never been born!”

All in all, thought Okajima to himself, letting the camera roll through out the afternoon showed scenes more entertaining than traditional ballet ever could.

“That is the most disgusting food I’ve ever seen” hissed Hinano.

This couldn’t be right. Even Karma couldn’t be idiotic enough to bring a date to this mess of a restaurant. They were sitting on the side walk for goodness sake. And the guy running the place looked like he was considering a murder. Come to think of it that’s probably where the meat came from.

“This tastes terrible Karma. Amazing job!”

“Karma laughed and took another bite of the thing that resembled a burger. See? They could hangout. No feelings. Just good friends. Nagisa was just a good friend who was illuminated by the white street light like an angel. Who’s eyes almost glowed and who was sitting close enough to Kiss...”

“OTP for life!!!” Hissed Hinano as Nakamura punched the air. 10 more inches. 5! 4, 3, 2

Nagisa’s phone made all 4 of them jump.

He answered to hear Kayano’s frantic whispers.

“We need help. Susan needs a hospital!”

“Hospital? Who’s Susan?”

“We were pirouetteing” explained Kayano as she dodged a thrown plate, “and Sugino accidentally threw me into a tree, the branch broke and I fell on a deer. Her antler broke! Her names Susan and she’s trying to kill us!”

“I don’t think girl deers have antlers”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SHOULD BE TAKING FROM THIS CONVERSATION!”

“Alright I’m on my way. Karma, we need to go save Kayano and Sugino from a distressed deer.”

“Sure” he muttered. “Why not”

Nakamura comforted Hinano. She would kill that deer with her own bare hands. Or maybe with a baseball bat.

It took a long time to get the deer into an animal hospital. He (or she) was a biter. The nurses criticised Karma’s method of transportation. In fairness it did look pretty odd when they arrived dragging a basket full of deer tied up with fairylights. But, as Karma argued, they did arrive at their destination. All they had to do now what wait as the nurses got the animal painkillers and possibly anger management therapy. Now Nagisa, Kayano, Sugino and Karma were in the waiting room recovering.

Exhausted Nagisa rested his head on Karma’s shoulder. Not in a romantic way or anything.

“Awww” cooed one lady.”Your such a cute couple”

“Oh! No.” Said Nagisa quickly lifting his head.

“We’re just friends.”

“Why?”

“Ummm”

“You’d be great together” man joined in.

Karma shook his head “no, all the dating stuff wouldn’t work out”

“If I may chime in,” Said another guy in a hat.

“Are you avoiding romance because of your fear of separation?”

“My what?” Karma looked personally insulted. “I don’t have a fear of separation”

“Listen young man” said a women behind Nagisa.

“You need to reassure that red headed fellow you will always be there for him.”

“I don’t want to talk about this” said Nagisa, mortification flooding through him.

“Perhaps that’s what’s driving you apart” said hat guy. “Your worried he won’t appreciate and except your efforts”

Sugino and Kayano took turns holding vending machine popcorn.

“No, I just don’t want to date him. Karma’s my friend”

“Is he. Or is he just putting up with you” asked some girl to the left.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, I’m just telling you what you tell yourself buddy”

Karma stood up angrily. “Let’s stop this right there, our love life is none of your business”

“So you do have a love life?”

Two nurses restrainted Karma from attacking the hat guy.

Nakumura crashed through the door with Hinano at her heels.

“Everyone shut up! It’s time for your moment! Stage 3 happens 4 hours into the date! You have 86 seconds!”

“The hell are you talking about?” Yelled Karma as Nagisa buried his head in his hands.

“Oh God!” Screamed one women, “It’s about to get real!”

“Lady you need to chill” hissed Sugino through his popcorn. “Karma! This is your time! Tell him how you feel!” Wailed Hinata.

“What is going on?” Whispers Nagisa.

“It might be too late soon!” Called hat guy.

“Am I dead?” Whispered Nagisa.

“Do it! We support you!” Yelled the nurse.

“Am I in hell?” Nagisa asked himself.

“Take the initiative Karma! Kiss him!”

Kamra threw himself at Nakamura with the sole intent to kill.Nagisa tackled him.

“No killing Nakumura. Or me after this”

The audience gasped. Hinata cheered. Kayano clapped. Nagisa kissed. And kissed. And kissed.Silence. Staring down at Karma Nagisa waited for his fist. It never came.

“I can’t believe this was our first date. Do-over?”

The whole room cheered.

The next day Karma and Nagisa headed out for first date round two. Nakumura and Hinata spread the news. Kayano and Sugino met to discuss their aid to the Karmagisa cause. It was worth it, even though they never got an iPad.

Then Sugino frowned

“Hey, what happened to Okajima?”

Okajima bowed as he received his prize. His short film “What two mental ballerinas would do for an iPad” won him first place. Life was good.

@darlingimawitch

#darlingimawitch #Pluto #AssClassSecretSanta2020

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teamhook · 4 years

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Emma and Killian :|: CSMM

This is my last submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Thanks to everyone in the Discord for letting me bounce ideas and for all the help.

Thanks to @revanmeetra87 who helped me write the thing. She kinda tricked me, she knows what I’m talking about. Still love her. :)

Thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for Beta services :)

The story is inspired by Kate and Leopold, it will not be an exact retell of the movie. I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

FFN

AO3

Will a man out of time be the happy ending of a cynical woman that doesn’t believe in fairytales? Could they take the leap together?

“I’m not sleepy Papa, tell me a story,” the girl urges with big fluttering eyes, begging.

The man looks lovingly at the young girl and smiles as he shakes his head. He starts telling her an unlikely love tale.

:|:

Killian Jones was walking through the growing city looking on as everyone went about their daily business. The noise of the Brooklyn Bridge construction was deafening. He missed life out on the open sea, but this was his life now. While looking out at the sea, he noticed a man that appeared to be following him. He stopped at a small haberdashery shop and noticed the same man from earlier was there too. This had to be a coincidence. Before he could think about it any further, the clock tower chimed; it was time to go home. Liam was going to be in a dreadful mood if he was late. Bloody parties. His brother had stopped being his older brother; he now acted like his keeper.

“Killian, you are the Duke of Albany, you need to dress better. You also need to find a wife. Brother, appearances matter.”

Brennan Jones had quickly gone through the inheritance their mother had left behind, a worthless title was all their father had left them. Once the money was gone, so was he. Liam had retired from the Royal Navy to become Killian’s guardian, even if he was old enough to not require one. He had been in the Navy himself, after all. His brother should worry more about finding himself a wife and not have to alter his life because his little brother had become a blemish on the family name. Milah had been more than a dalliance; he had loved her and she had used him. Once the affair was revealed, she played the victim; the young virile man seduced the older bored wife with stories of great adventures. So then it was decided to make the move for a fresh start.

The party had started by the time he got there, and anyone who was anyone was there. Smee, his manservant, helped him get ready for the evening. Sometime later that night, Liam pulled him aside and told him to find a wife. There were wealthy women lined up for him to choose from, but Killian’s response was simple. “Brother, I don’t want to marry for money. Marriage is the promise of eternal love. As a man of honor, I cannot promise eternity when my heart isn’t true.”

As Killian walked off, an unknown guest caught his eye. It was the man from earlier. He was walking around with some sort of strange device. With his curiosity piqued, Killian followed the strange man as he explored room to room. The man got spooked when he noticed Killian following him around. He ran out of the party and fled to the street. As Killian trailed behind, his attention was momentarily thwarted by a vision with fair skin and golden hair. After she passed, his attention snapped back to his original target.

Killian ran after him, yelling for him to “Stop!!”

The man kept running, not bothering to turn back. It seemed that his destination was the Brooklyn Bridge. The other man neared the end of the girder, as Killian jumped in an effort to stop the man from falling to his death. As he grabbed hold of the man’s hand, the other man screamed “Let go!” Killian shook his head. “No, you will die if I let go!” The other man tried to pull his hand out of Killian’s grip and finally succeeded, but Killian desperately grabbed a hold of the man with his other hand, losing his tenuous grip on the rope he had been holding on to, and they both fell into the unknown.

Wednesday

Killian woke up in an unfamiliar place. Was it all a dream ? His eyes focused on the strange surroundings. He jolted up. Where the bloody hell is he ?

A loud ringing startled him. The man he followed into the abyss emerged from a closed door.

“You really shouldn’t have followed me,” the man said as he studied Killian.

The ringing started again but this time, the man picked up an object. “Hello, oh, Emma. No, I haven’t seen your IPad. What? Yes. I’m sure you didn’t leave it here.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it will turn up.”

Killian just sat, staring at him.

“Sorry about that. I can’t believe it. You are here.”

“You obviously know who I am, but I have no idea who you are.”

“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Jefferson. Your great-great-grandson,” he smiled.

“I’m not even married,” Killian scoffed. “Let’s say I believe you. Why kidnap me? We don’t have any money, there’s no ransom money.”

Jefferson scrunched his face. “What? No, you’re not kidnapped.” He sighed. “You followed me through the portal and it closed behind us. So you have to stay put.”

Killian looked around. “Where the bloody hell am I? You say I’m not kidnapped, but you want me to stay put?”

“Look, I’m not holding you against your will. It’s for your safety. You are still in New York, but things have changed. New York is not as safe as it once was,” Jefferson said.

Killian got up and walked to the window, as he shook his head. “That is not New York.” He turned his back to the window and headed towards the sofa.

A feminine voice startled them. “Yeah, that’s good old New York alright.” She smiled as she entered the room, closing the window behind her.

Killian stared at the woman. “Have I seen you before?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed at the newcomer as Jefferson grabbed her arm. “Come on, let’s find that iPad. Killian, I’ll be right back, don’t move,” he said.

Killian sat down on the sofa still a little disoriented, his eyes continuing to follow the lass as she left the room. He knows he has seen her somewhere, but is utterly confused about where that was.

Emma and Jefferson arrived at his small office to look for the IPad. “I told you to take care of it when you asked to borrow it,” she sighed.

He rolled his eyes. “I took care of it just fine. It was just for two days while I got my laptop back from the repair guy. I thought I gave it back to you.”

“No, you didn’t. Damn it, Jeff, I need it back!” she glared at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find it,” he said with a big smile on his face.

“Okay,” she turned to him, “why are you so excited?”

“I did it! Emma, I really did it!”

“You did what Jeff?”

“I found it. The portal, a crack in the fabric of time. I traveled back in time and walked around in 1876.” He waggled his eyebrows in unison. “That’s not the best part; my great-great-grandfather followed me.“ The crazed glee was unable to stay hidden from his face.

Emma pursed her lips. “So what you are saying is that you found a portal and I’m to believe that the man out there is not Sergeant Pepper but a man out of time?”

“Emma, I told you about him. He is the Duke of Albany. He is a brilliant engineer; he invented the counterweight pulley. You know, the elevator?”

“And that’s him out there?” Emma stated sarcastically. “Right. Jeff, if you’re trying to create a distraction from my missing iPad, there are more believable ways to do it.”

“I’m serious!” he protested.

Emma glared, placing her hands on her hips. “No. You’re never serious. That’s the problem! Your head’s always 5,000 miles away in Wonderland.”

“Emma-”

A soft tap on the door interrupted Jefferson.

“Pardon me,” said Killian, hovering in the doorway. “Might I be of help?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied. “Tell your pal Jeff to stop messing with me.”

“‘Messing’...with you? I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” said Killian, perplexed.

“Oh, right.” Emma rolled her eyes. “How could I forget the whole ‘man out of time’ thing. How about this: Tell Jefferson to stop insulting my intelligence.”

As they spoke, Jefferson was digging through his desk. “Found it!” he yelped, holding the iPad aloft. “Found it. You can go, Emma.”

Emma grabbed it and walked out before slamming the door shut, effectively waking up the slumbering apricot mastiff. The startled dog’s barking was loud and constant, creating madness as she ran around the room.

Jefferson cringed, “Cat shut up!”

While Jefferson kept trying to tame the beast, Killian stared at the door.

After a few treat bribes and belly rubs, Jefferson finally broke Killian’s enchantment. “I’m sorry about her.”

“Who is she? I feel like I’ve seen her before.” Killian’s eye was still set on the door.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but women have changed since your time. They are dangerous.” Jefferson walked to the front door and locked it.

Killian kept his steely-eyes on Jefferson. “You say I’m not kidnapped, yet you lock the door.”

Jefferson laughed. “I’m protecting you. New York is not the same as it was. I can’t let you go out there.”

Killian glared at him.

Cat scratched at the door urgently.

“Look, man, your clothes make you look like you’re some Renaissance Faire crazed fanatic. I can tell you’re kind of antsy. I will get you home, but the portal closed. My backup is for next Tuesday. We can discuss this more, but I really need to take Cat for her walk,” Jefferson said as the dog barked.

Killian sighed; there was not much he could do.

“While I’m out, I was wondering if you could look over these.” Jefferson handed Killian some notebooks.

Killian grabbed them and sat down.

“I shouldn’t be gone long. Don’t open the door for anyone,” Jefferson said as he secured Cat’s leash. The door closed behind them, and then there was a click.

Jefferson and Cat were waiting for the elevator. He heard the ding and once the door opened, he took a step in, but Cat hesitated and he realized only too late why. He fell into the empty elevator shaft as the door closed behind him. He was still holding onto the leash as he attempted to pull himself up. A frightened Cat whimpering above managed to get out of her collar. Jefferson was unaware the sealed elevator door was the only thing preventing him from falling to his possible death. “Good girl, Cat stay, don’t move.” He tried again to pull himself up but failed as he lost his grip and fell, only to land on top of the elevator a couple of floors below.

Meanwhile, Killian was exploring the apartment. He was in awe of all the different appliances. He was washing his face when a knock on the door suddenly startled him. As he neared the door, it burst open, revealing the fiery blonde from before.

“Jeff!!!! Hey, you renaissance man, where is he? He forgot my charger and you can’t just kick Cat outside. She unloaded Lake Erie out there.”

“I have not, milady. Jeff stepped outside with her.”

“Fine, let’s go. I have enough time to stop for a replacement charger. I said let’s go!” she said, rolling her eyes as she handed him Cat’s leash.

He stammered and did as instructed as they walked out of the apartment building. Killian held on to Cat. “Lass, I take it you’re a career woman. I once courted a librarian in Sussex,” he smiled.

She stared at him askance. “Did you, now.”

“Indeed I did, I…” He trailed off as he began to suspect she wasn’t taking their conversation seriously. “Librarian is a fine avocation for a lady; what is yours? Please forgive me if I’m being too forward,” Killian decided to say instead.

“I’m in market research,” she said, which explained very little to him.

At his undoubtedly confused look, she continued. “I figure out what customers like and don’t like about products.”

“Ahh,” he said, nodding. “Very valuable research, indeed.”

“Yeah, well, thankfully my boss thinks so too. Speaking of, I am already running late. If I want to get my charger, I have to go now. Wait...give these to Jefferson when you see him. I am sick of getting his mail.” Reaching into her bag, she withdrew some envelopes. “See you.” With another swish of her blonde hair, she was gone.

Killian admired the no-nonsense blonde; there was something about her that called to him. She wasn’t like any of the women he had met in his life, and not just because she was a career woman. He was not afraid of that. He had a feeling she was going to be a challenge, and he does love a good challenge.

In a slight daze, Killian watched her turn the corner and continue out of sight. Was everyone in this city constantly on the move?

Cat, who had been crouched and snuffling at the street, suddenly shook herself vigorously, and Killian looked down at her.

It is then he noticed the pungent droppings she had left beside him. Wrinkling his nose with distaste, he decided to move on. After all, it would likely be indistinguishable from the horse manure every city had.

Though, come to think of it, he hasn’t really seen any horses. Or street manure. Just the noisy, swift carriages that seem to move of their own will.

“Excuse me!” a voice called over the general din.

He turned to see a female constable looking at him irritably - but surely he was imagining her annoyance. What could he possibly have done to invoke her attention?

“Sir, aren’t you going to pick that up!?” The frown lines were evident on the face of the woman.

Killian stared at the woman. “I refuse, respectfully.” He gave her a charming smile.

The woman mocked him and smiled back. “It’s against the law to leave the poop there. I repeat, are you picking that up or not?”

“I’m sorry, you’re saying there’s a law that forces gentlemen to pick up canine feces?” he grimaced.

“Yes, there is. Are you picking up the poop or not?” the lady cop urged.

“I refuse, respectfully.” He clicked his feet together.

“Alright, what’s your name fancy pants?”

“My name is Killian Brendan Rowe Conor Gordon Philip Jones.”

The woman rolled her eyes, then spotted the envelopes he was holding and grabbed one. With a wicked smile, she said, “Here, Jefferson Hatter.” She handed him a paper and walked away.

Killian turned to Cat as she wiggled her tail, and suddenly darted in the opposite direction. He jerked behind her. The city flashed before him, and they ended up in front of the completed Brooklyn Bridge. Killian was in awe that the structure still stood. The sound of the fire brigade caught Cat’s attention and she followed, with a stunned Killian trailing behind. They end up back in front of the apartment building as Jefferson was on an apparatus to move him to be taken to the hospital. Cat whimpered next to Killian.

“Killian, what are you doing outside? Get back inside. I’ll be back soon.”

“Jefferson, I saw the bridge and -”

“I know you’re excited but you cannot go out again.” Jefferson said as he was put inside the ambulance.

Killian looked at Cat and they went inside.

After leaving Killian, Emma bought the charger and headed to work. Today, they were screening a movie to see how people were going to welcome the film. Her assistant, Mary Margaret, handed out a form for the people to fill out. The movie finished to a disappointing reception. The conclusion after reading the audience's responses was that the character was unlikeable, so they needed to cut a big scene in order for the movie to do well. The director was upset about the change and told them that they were sucking the life out of cinema.

Back at the office, they were now focused on casting for a low-fat margarine commercial. The focus group was not liking the actors that were reading for the part. Yet another dead end. They needed to fill the part soon. “Mary Margaret, we are going to have to do another casting.”

Mary Margaret smiled, “I’m on it. So, I was thinking about what you said.”

Emma looked confusedly at her assistant.

“You said that I should be more proactive and not be caught up in my dreams if I want to be successful. So, in an effort to be more efficient, I was wondering if you wanted me to get some food for your brother’s return. He is set to return tomorrow.” A slight blush on her cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Emma.

Emma raised an eyebrow because she had a feeling Mary Margaret had a crush on her brother. The only reason she gave her assistant a speech was because Mary Margaret was always giving her lectures about love and hope. Fairy tales aren’t real; at least when it came to Emma’s life they aren’t.

Mary Margaret continued with the list of things that need to be taken care of. “Oh, and Mr. Oz wants to see you.”

“Mary Margaret, you should have started with that! I didn’t know he was back. Is he in his office?”

“I think so. I can call and check,” Mary Margaret said.

Emma met with Mr. Oz and he told her that they should discuss the possibility of her promotion during dinner the next day. Her boss always seemed to come on a little strong for her taste and because she was an adult, she would suck it up. As soon as she reached her office, Mary Margaret grabbed her attention.

“Emma, Mr. Oz is calling an emergency meeting to discuss the Farmer’s Bounty account,” Mary Margaret shared.

“Oh, well that’s not going as well as we had hoped. I really wish I had better news for him.” Emma sighed. “I hope we find someone in the casting call tomorrow.”

The meeting went by quickly and afterward, all Emma could recall about it was the moment she spilled cocoa all over the front of her shirt. She just hoped it was not a bad omen for the next day’s auditions.

Back inside Jefferson’s apartment, Killian busied himself with some scientific books he had found on the shelf. Although the terminologies inside were difficult for him to understand, he was still able to grasp most of the overall concepts. How much humanity had advanced!

And yet, how much was still the same. The modern New Yorkers’ lives seemed to be fraught with just as many challenges and concerns as his own.

Such as Emma. Though she is clearly a woman of talent and accomplishment - her career would attest to that - she moved and spoke with a strain and pace quite unfamiliar to his own world.

Yet the more he thought of her, the more he realised he was quite interested in trying to keep up.

Killian dropped his book, startled, when he heard a loud ringing pierce the apartment.

The ringing repeated several times, and then a shrill beep squawked before he suddenly heard Jefferson’s voice speak.

“Killian? Hey, Killian, this is Jefferson. I am speaking over a machine, okay? I need you to pick up the telephone so we can talk. It’s the...lift the curved white part of the machine okay? The part that disconnects from the rest.”

Fumbling, Killian followed the instructions, nearly dropping the device. But he could hear Jefferson’s voice, now coming from the holes on one end of the machine he held.

Excited and proud of his accomplishment, Killian began talking back. “Jefferson? Is this Bell's talking telegraph? I saw a prototype at last year’s fair. Can you hear me? I saw the bridge! It still exists!”

“Killian, I know you’re excited, but you have to stay inside the apartment. I should be home tonight. They’re taking me to X-Rays,” Jefferson says before howling in pain and the call disconnecting.

“Hello?” Killian asked and was met with silence. “Bloody hell.”

The sound of the TV alerted him; he was no longer alone. Killian stepped slowly to the living area and found a young boy.

“Hello, lad,” Killian said. “May I be of assistance?”

The boy tilted his head. “You are not Jefferson. I usually come and watch TV with him until my dad picks me up. Do you want some Pirate Booty?” The boy offered the treat.

Killian scratched behind his ear and smiled.

Meanwhile, one floor below arriving early from actor camp, David Nolan entered his shared apartment with his sister. A loud voice coming from Jefferson’s place piqued his curiosity and he went to check it out.

“But one day, he lowered the Jolly Roger and set sail in search of another kind of treasure. Not money, not jewels, not gold… but a bride. Despite his being a ruffian of the brine, fearless in his plunder and merciless with the sword, the Pirate King was also lonely.”

The boy was mesmerized.

“My boy, I was fortunate enough to see the premiere last month.”

“Since when is Penzance showing?” David asks.

Killian quirked an eyebrow. “Since when is it acceptable to enter a domicile without an invitation?”

David laughed and took in the old fashioned wardrobe. “Oh, you’re an actor too? I’m David Nolan, I live downstairs.”

Emma was finally home; what a day. She was so tired that she almost missed noticing a duffle bag on the floor. That meant her brother arrived early. “David!” She was about to go to his room when the phone rang. “Hello, Jeff. Wait, you’re in the hospital? Uhm, yeah I know he got out. I made him walk Cat. What film? No, I’m not going to babysit a full-grown man. One, may I add, that you claim is from 1876.” With that, she hung up.

Once she hung up, she heard someone singing. She noticed the open window, which was the preferred way to go to and from Jefferson’s. She went to see what was going on.

The boisterous voices were singing the lyrics of some old ditty. She cleared her throat in an effort to get their attention and when that failed, she whistled.

Killian stopped playing the piano. Roland’s eyes went wide. David smiled wide.

“Hey, sis,” David said as he walked to hug her. “I missed you. Hey, what’s going on with the elevator?”

“I should have known you’d find your way here. You always do,” she said. “Aren’t you early?”

“I am. Some Tai Chi lady wanted to jab her fingers in my-” David managed to stop himself when he remembered the young boy in the room.

Roland smiled. “Hello, Miss Emma. I’m just waiting for my dad.”

“Hi, Roland.” She smiled back. “Your dad is still working the late shift.”

The boy shrugged. “It won't last. Uncle Will is moving here to work with him.”

“Good. I know you like hanging out with Jeff, but too much TV is bad for you.”

Roland giggled and turned to sit down on the couch to continue his television viewing.

Killian was silently staring at her.

“Oh, Emma, I invited Killian over for dinner since Jefferson isn’t here.”

“What about Roland?”

“Robin called and said he was already on his way.”

“Meet me at home,” Emma said as she simply waved to a silent Killian. “We’ll talk about it at home.”

David turned to Killian. “Hey, dinner is in two hours. Bye, Roland.”

Roland waved to David then leaned towards Killian. “I don’t think she likes you.”

As soon as they enter their shared apartment, David started. “Come on Emma, he’s alone.”

“He thinks he is from 1876, he is clearly crazy,” Emma pointed out.

“He is an actor!” David defended Killian.

Emma had started cooking spaghetti while David made the garlic bread.

“Emma, why are you so rude to Killian?”

“David, what are you talking about? I’m perfectly civil to him. I’m just annoyed at Jefferson, and his craziness. It doesn’t matter, I don’t have time. I might be getting a promotion. A really good one, and I’m just frustrated. This could be really good for us.”

“Oh, that’s great Emma!” David said.

Before he could say anything else, the phone started ringing. “David, can you get that?” Emma asked.

“Ems, just let the machine answer it,” David said as he put the bread in the oven.

Jefferson’s voice was frantic. “Emma, I know you don’t believe me, but just develop the film on my desk. It’s right next to the phone. If Killian doesn’t go back, the elevators will be just the beginning.” The call disconnected.

David whistled. “Jeff is still at it then.”

“David, set up the table since it was your idea to invite Jeff’s friend over.”

“Okay,” David said amiably.

Soon, supper was on the table, and just as they were about to sit, there was a knock on the door.

Emma opened it to see Killian standing there, holding flowers. “Hello. Thank you again for the invitation. I hope I am not late; the flower proprietor refused my coins and insisted they were too old and must be fake. Fake, indeed! Yet he takes the absurd little blue card with Jefferson’s name as real payment?”

Emma lifted a brow as she received the flowers. “Yeah, fancy that. Well, thanks and all, but you didn't have to go to the trouble. Come in, we just finished cooking.”

“Hey, hi Killian!” David called cheerfully.

Digging in a cabinet, Emma found a vase and filled it with water before placing the flowers in it. They did look nice, she begrudgingly admitted to herself. Whoever the weird guy was, he had taste.

They all sat down and, after passing the food around and loading their plates, Killian spoke up.

“You know, before young Roland arrived, I was examining some of Jefferson’s books and research. It is quite impressive! Did either of you ever read it yourself?”

Twirling some spaghetti on her fork, Emma hid a grimace. “Unfortunately.” She wasn’t going to pretend Jefferson wasn’t a brilliant man. But some of his theories were so ludicrous, she couldn’t understand how someone so smart could re-read some of his own work and not realize how impossible it was.

Killian either didn’t hear or chose to ignore her quip. “Specifically, I am referring to the time portals.”

Oh, boy. Here we go, Emma thought.

“The portals work rather like an eclipse, you see. They only occur at specific intervals; in the case of the one I travelled through, once every twenty years.”

As Killian was talking, Emma could see David nodding and grinning excitedly.

It irritated her so much that she gave David a warning glare before he could ask any follow-up questions.

Setting down his silverware beside his now empty plate, Killian lifted his chin and glanced toward the oven. “Well. That was delicious. I am quite ready for the next course.”

The thin cord by which she’d been reining in her temper finally snapped. “There is no next course,” she hissed.

Clearly puzzled, Killian tilted his head. “But I do not understand. Where I come from, a meal is a result of reflection and study. Menus are prepared in advance and timed to perfection. And without the culinary arts, the crudeness of reality would be unbearable.”

YOU are unbearable! she wanted to scream, though she didn’t know at that moment if she was angry with him, or at Jefferson for bringing him to the apartment, or at David for inviting him to dinner. Or at her own lingering fears at what tomorrow and her job would hold.

“You know what?” Emma asked through her teeth. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“I’m sorry, Killian. Emma had a little too much wine,” David apologized.

“It’s alright. Thank you for the lovely meal. Goodnight,” Killian said with a small smile.

Tagging:

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#Captain Swan #Captain Swan Movie Marathon #CSMM #CSMM20 #cs ff #teamhook

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scaredofchange · 4 years

Text

Home Is Where the Heart Is - Jooheon x Reader

Pairing: Jooheon (Monsta X) x Assistant Manager!Reader

Summary: As a newly hired assistant manager for Monsta X, y/n meets a lot of ups and downs, confronts challenges and faces trials, but never had y/pronoun thought that the biggest one to this day would be Lee Jooheon.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety; slight swearing.

A/N: If you’re not into a long introduction, then I wouldn’t recommend reading this. ‘Action’ comes later down the story since I wanted to have a strong base to write on. Still, I hope you like it!

____________________

I had been working for Starship Entertainment for the past three months. It was going smoothly as I was getting used to the different ambiance from my last job, which was working for Big Hit Entertainment. Why did I leave, you ask? Well, let’s just say I didn’t enjoy the conditions I was being moulded in as head of the human resources department.

Although I had formed friendships with Namjoon and Jungkook from BTS, as well as Soobin and Taehyun from TXT, I just had to get away from the toxicity in my office. But, all of them were extremely nice and helped me find another job in the business. Never in my life would’ve I thought to have friends like them.

The real surprise was the position they had gotten me: assistant manager for Monsta X. Ideally, I expected a human resources job, since I didn’t see myself supervising a whole group, but Namjoon insisted I was perfect for the role; even with my crippling anxiety.

Surprisingly, things were going well. The band itself had been welcoming and charming from the get-go, well expect from one member; and, my boss, the manager, was a bit less approachable at first, but I was able to show him what I was made of and he eventually warmed up to my presence.

Today, the band and I had a few interviews in front of us and, as I was vividly typing around on my work iPad, hidden in the practice room, I heard the door open on some loud laughs and heavy footsteps. I lifted my head to meet seven men joking around, dressed in mostly sports clothes.

“Good morning,” I let out in a stern voice, knowing very well they should’ve been there fifteen minutes ago.

“Hey, y/n!” squeaked Minhyuk, shocked by my presence.

My eyes set on the leader, Shownu, who simply looked at his feet, embarrassed.

“When I call a meeting, I expect you all to be on time,” I added on a serious note, glaring at them like they were children.

One thing I had learned for the past few months was that men idols were like puppies, you had to repeat the same things over and over again as well as threaten them with the casual “you ain’t going to eat if you don’t do this correctly” from time to time.

“Sorry y/n,” finally added Changkyun, much more indifferent to the situation than the others.

I took a deep sigh and shrugged my shoulders: it wasn’t worth making everyone feel uncomfortable.

“So, I just wanted to brief you on the two evening interviews,” I stated, getting on my feet and brushing the dust off of my pants.

With a common nod, they spread in front of me.

“First one is going to be live, so you know what that means: be on your best behaviour. The other one will be aired in a few weeks, but from what I’ve heard, the host is known to try and make you feel uncomfortable...”

“What does that mean?” Jooheon blurted out, confused.

I lifted my gaze to meet his; he bore it like we hadn’t had an argument a few days earlier and hadn’t spoken since then. I cleared my throat to regain my calm demeanour and broke the eye-contact.

“She’s going to ask you about your dating life,” I cleared the question, “and as usual, you need to refute having any.”

They agreed in silence, exchanging looks between one another. The fact that we needed to hide both Kihyun’s and Shownu’s girlfriends from the world was as tough as it was; we definitely did not need them to talk about romantic relationships on a live broadcast.

I babbled about a few other details like transportation and clothing before I realized that most of the group had completely lost focus and was dangling from one leg to the other.

“All right,” I mumbled more to myself than to them, “I’ll let you get to it, but please, wait for me at the bus this time, okay?”

I.M and Minhyuk giggled like two kids in kindergarten who put a piece of gum on little Wendy’s chair.

“You have to admit it was a good prank, y/n,” the maknae let out with a wide smile.

I shook my head in denial, remembering how they decided to leave without me a few weeks ago, causing a whole lot of trouble for a whole lot of nothing. I was furious and had to grab a last-minute taxi to make it in time to the studio where we were filming a very important talk-show.

“Nah, it was a shitty one,” I blurted back, squinting my eyes at him.

Still, I couldn’t hide the smirk on the corner of my lips, and the band took it as their cue to relax. A part of me did enjoy forming a friendly bond with them; it reminded me of my family. It was warm and nice, but you did also want to rip one another’s heads from time to time.

In a synchronized matter, the group made its way to the center of the room and greeted both its dance crew and choreographer. They looked eager to start practising and I wasn’t one to keep them from doing it.

But, still, I gazed at them for a few minutes; they were all-natural and comfortable like they had always belonged here. They looked cheerful, happy.

“Don’t you have work to do?” nagged Kihyun, as he started to stretch.

He raised an eyebrow and waited for my departure. I grimaced at him and chuckled at the cute smile he threw back at me. But, unfortunately, he was right. After one last look, I turned on my feet and directed myself toward the exit. I knew a boring meeting was waiting for me in the afternoon and every single fibre in my being wanted to go home; but, I decided to take a deep breath instead and clicked on the elevator’s button.

Once I jumped into it, my mind went full-on work mode and I started rummaging about various details. Interviews were a lot more difficult to plan, especially when you order around a bunch of grown-ass adult men who act like two-year-olds.

And it’s with that mindset that I entered my office on the seventh floor, a dark concentred look on my face.

[***]

“Wow, you made it,” said Minhyuk unimpressed, “we almost had to leave without you this time.”

Out-of-breath, I staggered toward the Monsta X crew bus and brushed shoulders with the driver. My meeting had lasted way too long and I barely had the time to rush down to the underground parking.

Even with the few laughs coming from the rest of the group, my mood didn’t get better. I was mad and angry at a colleague who seemed to want to make everything much more difficult; and, I hadn’t had time to grab dinner, which meant I was starving.

“Are you okay?” asked Shownu when I let myself fall on the seat next to him.

We were used to being seatmates. Since he was the leader, I spoke to him the whole way to whichever studio we were going to and informed him on many subjects. He was always calm and he listened to everything I had to say before adding a comment. Shownu was the kind of man you hold on to.

“Bad day,” I whispered, side-eyeing him.

He pouted, visibly upset at my answer. With a slight movement, he squeezed my forearm, trying to reassure me.

“You’re strong, you’ll get through it.”

I smiled at his response and he squeezed even harder.

Just like on a timer, my stomach grumbled even louder than a few minutes before, provoking a side-look from a few of the members. As if on cue, I felt something on my shoulder.

I grabbed the small bag of chips with sweaty hands; Changkyun vaguely waving it over me like it was a natural thing to do.

“Thanks, I.M,” I replied in a faint voice, hoping he knew how much that simple act meant to me.

He murmured a simple ‘you’re welcome’ and got back to his phone. Within a few minutes, we were on the road and the vehicle was silent. It didn’t even take a few seconds before I finished my snack, but I was extremely grateful for it.

After exhaling all the air in my lungs, I let my head slide on the headrest and closed my eyes. I felt my whole being doze off until I was startled by the vibration of my phone. Without thinking about it twice, I opened my eyes and grabbed it: in this business, you often have emergencies and you always have to be alert.

But, in this case, it was a simple text message. I read the name over and over again: Jooheon.

Now, my hesitation to open the message came from the very heated argument we had had a few days prior. Not to mention how I could barely cross his gaze followed suit.

I tried to remember why I was so mad... but the answer didn’t appear as easy as it had back that day.

Long story short: I was convinced he didn’t like me, like... not at all, and therefore I was always distant with him. But, that night, when I had to pick him up from a friend’s place, completely drunk, he started to blame me for, and I quote: “making things difficult”.

It was around 2 am and I was tired of his shit, so I yelled. I told him that he was acting like a child and that I had no idea why he hated me so much. Then, he threw things like: “You’re trying to get into I.M’s pants,” which startled me to the core.

When I dropped him back at the dorms, he slammed the car door and stumbled his way to the main entrance. I had never been so confused in my whole life.

So, to see his name appear on my phone brought a whole new level of anxiety. I was repulsed by the dispute we had; I found it completely useless and out-of-the-blue, and didn’t want to replicate it once again.

Still, my curiosity got me and I slid my finger on the message. The only words that were written were: “Can we talk later?”

I bit my bottom lip, not knowing exactly how I should answer it. A part of me really did want to clear the air, but another one knew that it would probably be the most unpleasant situation ever.

“Of course”

I replied those two words not knowing what was to come, but for a quick moment, I felt good about the outcomes of our future conversation, or perhaps the butterflies in my stomach reflected fear more than hope.

I heard a light ting! from the back of the bus, a simple sign that told me Jooheon had received my message loud and clear.

The rest of the journey went without any troubles, except from my very heavy head who kept falling onto Shownu’s shoulder. Even though I apologized over and over again for my lack of professionalism, the leader kept reassuring me and patting his arm for me to lay on.

Eventually, I gave up the fight and obeyed, letting my whole being evaporate in the world of dreams, hoping for the evening to go well and acutely stressing about getting a one-on-one with Jooheon.

[***]

“How did we do?” inquired Wonho after the second interview, his ears reddened because of a strangely personal question that he had been asked.

I finally was able to let out a big exhale, washing away the weight that had been on my shoulders for the past hours. I am not going to lie: I was suspicious of Monsta X’s capacity to act like real, normal adults.

“You did exceptionally,” I complimented him with a small smile.

He seemed rather satisfied with the answer and walked straight toward the other guys; half looked absolutely despaired and the other half quite relieved. I joined them and cheered them on their performance. Aside from a few side-looks and basic comments from I.M, it went as smoothly as someone could expect it to go.

“It was close to perfect guys,” I reassured them after noticing their anxious gazes, “and big thanks to Kihyun for saving it a few times, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The said-man straightened his back and smiled widely. With his small fingers, he pushed back a strand of his pink hair, like the drama queen that he is. I knew it would boost his ego a bit too much, but he did deserve the praise.

After exchanging on a few other points, it was quickly time to leave. Two cars were waiting for the group back outside, ready to bring them back to their dorms. I, on the other, usually had a habit of going back to my Starship office to wrap up the day nicely.

Therefore, having completely forgotten about Jooheon’s previous text message, I hopped in the closest taxi, screaming goodbyes from behind my back.

It was only when I arrived at my messy desk that I realized my mistake. “Shit”, I thought, my mind running to find a solution. With a sigh, I rubbed my eyes, not caring about my makeup anymore, and grabbed my phone.

“I’m sorry; I forgot you wanted to talk.”

I typed quickly and slid my iPhone back in my pocket, knowing I had a lot of paperwork to fill. I kept praying that Jooheon would not take my fast departure from the studio as a sign of unwillingness of talking with him.

Around twenty minutes later, even though I was already focused on my task, I grasped my phone the second it vibrated. I caught myself in a weird smile when I noticed Honey’s name and shook my head in proper denial.

“I went back to my studio, if you still want to talk, I’ll be there,” he wrote.

What was he doing back at the office too? Was he, just like, unable to go back home if his head was filled with thoughts? Thoughts that were not always welcomed?

Without thinking about it twice, I stepped on my feet and left the office straight to the elevators. To my surprise, my heart started to beat faster, like I was both excited and scared, anticipating the conversation.

The thing with Jooheon was my absolute inability to think whenever he was around. At first, I was expecting some resistance from some members of the group, but never from Honey. So, when I had to face an unsatisfied and uninterested main rapper, my brain stopped working and perhaps that didn’t help my case. I remember vividly how the first time he engaged with me, with a stern tone, I started to stutter and mumble, like a child facing an angry mother.

Maybe it was my admiration toward him that kept me from functioning normally, or maybe it was how intimidating he was, contrary to what I believed before I met him.

To be honest, before our very first meeting, I binge-watched a load of YouTube videos, trying to seize their personalities and how I should approach them, both individually and as a band; apparently, they weren’t as instructive as someone would think.

Still, it was part of the job, being clueless. We all learn while making mistakes; that’s how I had gotten where I was and, I was sure, how the rest of my life would be.

With slightly shaky legs, I stepped out of the elevator and directed myself toward Jooheon’s studio. I couldn’t hear a sound coming from it, but then again, it was a soundproof room.

I knocked lightly at first, then a bit more strongly, hoping he hadn’t left already.

Within a few seconds, as my breath started to shorten, Honey opened the door. His dark hair was dishevelled as if he had been running his hands through it the whole night; he had small dark circles under his eyes; the top of his buttoned shirt was undone; and, he was, for some reason, barefoot.

“Wrong timing?” I supposed, my eyes analyzing him from head to toe.

He shook his head in denial and stood aside, letting me some space to enter the room.

As I did so, I noticed how my head was filling up with strange thoughts, such as: “Wow, he looks so good” and “Could he get more attractive?”; thoughts that had never been mine before, which provoked deep foreign warmth in the pit of my stomach.

“What are you working on?” I mumbled, trying to make conversation while Jooheon pulled a second chair for me to sit on.

“Just some new songs,” he replied tiredly.

I nodded and watched his multiple monitors, remembering that one sound mixing class I had had a million years ago.

“Can’t wait to hear them,” I added, genuinely excited about it.

He shyly smirked, his irises looking over at every detail of my face; perhaps was he trying to find indications of my mood. Truth was, I had no idea how I felt about this.

“You wanted to talk?” I initiated the topic with a somewhat trembling voice.

I cleared my throat, in hopes that he hadn’t noticed.

With a quick nod, he shuffled on his seat and locked gaze with mine. I held it like my life was depending on it.

“About the other night,” he started smoothly, “I wanted to apologize for my behaviour.”

Surprised, I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t expect this at all.

“I didn’t mean what I said, I was drunk,” he then stated.

“Didn’t you, though?” I rapidly blurted out, not even thinking about it, “Mean it?”

It was his turn to be taken aback. It was like I had punched him in the gut. He stepped back on his chair, which rolled away slightly, and started to shake his head vehemently.

Before he could add anything else, I took the lead.

“Where I come from, it is said that people, when drunk, say the things they don’t dare to say when sober. So, I’m asking you again: did you mean what you said?”

It was a bit rough on the edges, I admit, but it was direct and that’s all that mattered to me.

He inhaled and let his head fall on his headrest. I could almost see the gears work in his brain as if he was trying to come up with the perfect answer. The thing he didn’t know though was: there wasn’t any.

“It’s not that I didn’t mean it,” he finally started to speak up after a good thirty seconds, “but I didn’t mean the way I told it, you know?”

I acquiesced with a nod, waiting for him to continue. Honey bit his bottom lip like what he was fighting what he was about to say next.

“I just don’t like the way you’re so close with the other members, especially with I.M.”

I raised my eyebrows almost automatically.

“Excuse me?” I gasped, getting on my feet. “Are you still suggesting I’m trying to get, and I quote: into Changkyun’s pants?”

Furious, I crossed my arms on my chest and glared at him. Rapidly, Honey jumped on his feet too and got a bit closer, trying to keep me from leaving.

“Y/n, stop it,” he ordered with a deep voice, “you’re not listening to me.”

I scoffed abruptly, searching for a reply.

“I am listening to you, dumbass. What do you think I’m doing?”

“No, you’re not really listening to what I’m saying.”

“Then be clearer!”

“I don’t know how I can be! You don’t wanna listen!”

Our voices were getting elevated and the room was warming up to both our anger.

“Jooheon, I’m not in your fucking head, so just say what you really want to say. You think that, what, I wanna fuck I.M, is that it? Or all the members while at it? What is your problem?”

“What? That is not at all what I think! I just don’t like the way you’re so... friendly with them!”

He was starting to look incredibly desperate, but I had to get my answers.

“And what does it change that I’m friendly? Can’t I be their friends? It’s not my fault that you’ve been an ass since the beginning and that you don’t want to be my friend!”

“Who said that?”

“You, obviously. Maybe not with words, but you don’t need words to communicate your absolute disdain toward me,” I replied a bit less confidently than before.

Jooheon looked absolutely horrified by those words. With his mouth agape, he searched my eyes for any signs of lies, but there weren’t: I really did think he hated me.

As if taken by a sudden sadness, my eyes started to water. I hated the way I cried when I was angry, but what can you do?

My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might burst out my chest.

The main rapper stood there, speechless, for what seemed like hours. I swiftly wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall and looked at my feet like a coward.

Where would this conversation take us? What good did it make?

I was filling up my head with useless questions when Honey moved.

I was shocked when he stepped closer and lifted my chin with a trembling finger, locking his eyes with mine. Gently, he placed both his hands on each side of my face and held them there.

I could see how he was gathering the courage to speak, so I gave him the time he needed; I didn’t budge.

But there isn’t one thing that could’ve prepared me for what he said next.

Not one.

With his eyes still searching mine, he opened his mouth:

“I have nothing, and I mean nothing, but pure admiration for you, y/n. I have never felt any disdain toward you, you are basically the definition of perfect,” he breathed out the last word in a murmur.

I was paralyzed, completely frozen in place, but that didn’t stop him from going.

“Can’t you see?” he asked rhetorically, “I don’t like the way you’re so close with other members because I want your attention all to myself. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Every day that I come up here, I hope I can get a smile from you or even a single word. I think about you all the time and it’s driving me crazy.”

I hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down my face until he wiped some with his thumbs.

“You don’t have to say anything, of course,” he tried to take the pressure off of my back, “but you have to know the truth, and the truth is that I like you way more than I should and that I’m jealous of every moment you spend with I.M, or Minhyuk, or Wonho, or every single one of my friends, because I want you all to myself, y/n.”

He was apprehending the worst, I could see it in his eyes, eye-contact that he finally broke out of fear, and in the way he was ready to just let me go, but I didn’t want that, I didn’t want him to let me go. Not now, not ever.

“Jooheon...” I whispered, slowly placing my palm on one of his hands.

His eyes jerked back to me, hope filling his irises.

Words didn’t need to be exchanged anymore, I knew that. They already had been and I was tired of reading between the lines, of not knowing where to stand, so I took upon me to make things clear.

My head was empty when I crashed my lips onto his; I wasn’t thinking about anything. The only part of my body that was experiencing something was my heart. Whether it was by its multiplied beatings or its desire to feel Jooheon: I didn’t know, but I sure as hell knew I was alive.

Instead of being surprised or pulling back as I had expected, Honey welcomed me with strength and passion. The kiss began delicately, like the flappings of a butterfly’s wings, but it deepened rapidly, descending into a powerful hurricane, sweeping everything that dared be on its way.

His tongue eventually found mine in a synchronized matter. As I grabbed his neck with both my arms, he let his hands slide on my waist, pulling me against him.

I was taken by the sudden urge of giving him my all; my absolute everything. I closed what was left of the gap between us and slid my hand over the back of his neck, passing my fingers through his hair.

The kiss deepened even more which I didn’t think possible. The mix of the taste of my tears and the heat of the room made it all so delicious.

But, unfortunately, we are humans and we need air, so at a certain moment, maybe minutes after we let ourselves go, we had to pull back, but only slightly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” Jooheon murmured, his face still centimetres away from mine.

“Of course I do, I waited as long, didn’t I?” I smiled.

He titled his head to one side and admired me in a way no one had ever done. I bit my bottom lip, the taste of Jooheon still lingering on it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he finally let out, a smirk creeping on his lips.

His dimples showed, causing another wave of warmth to climb up my spine. It was definitely one of my favourite physical features on him.

“Thank you, you’re not too bad looking yourself,” I teased while raising an eyebrow.

He openly laughed and pulled me closer once again. That time, when his lips found mine, it didn’t feel strange, foreign.. no. It felt intimate, familiar, dare I say ‘perfect’. Like my arms had always belonged around his neck; like his hands were perfectly meant for my waist. Everything was falling into place, like a puzzle that had long been waiting to be completed.

What it meant for our future, I had no idea. But, one thing was sure: whether this was the start of something new or not, I knew, for certain, that I was at the right place.

Because, wherever Jooheon was, I belonged.

He was my heart, he was my home.

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lyrazehedgieboiii · 4 years

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Pocky

HEY, HEDGIE SQUAD! SO, THIS IS A STORY I HAD ON MY WATTPAD, AND IT’S A BIT OLD, so it’s going to be a bit retarded, because that’s how I was a few years ago. Anyways, hope you like it! (THIS STORY BELONGS TO Lyrazehedgieboiii, A.K.A Lyra_ze_hedgie on Wattpad {don’t check it out})

So, dis story is gonna be different. Usually, it's a third person POV, but this is going to be character's point of view. SEGA owns the characters, I do not! And before I forget, let's bring the age list! Read this so you understand.

Amy: 13

Sonic: 16

Knuckles: 16

Silver: 16

Tails: 12

(Amy's POV)

I was just sitting on my couch, looking up ideas on how to catch my dear Sonic. These days, I've been kind of easy on the chasing, I mean, I wouldn't even look good running after Sonic like a lovesick fan girl. That's right! I'm actually starting to feel a little self-conscious these days, and I asked Rouge about it, and she said it was perfectly normal! I believe her, since she was the one who told me to lay off chasing him, he ain't worth it. Oh. But he is. Anyways, back to what I was doin'. I ran out of ideas on how to get Sonikku to fall for me. When in doubt, look it up on Google. I turned off my iPad, and decided to check the mail.

"Let's see... Fan mail, more fan mail, a stack of fan-mail, and a package..." It's awfully strange, because I never ordered anything. I looked at the receiver's address. It was addressed to me, and it has my name on it. I went back inside, and put my fan mail in my fan mail closet (in case I'm having a bad day, I read fan letters! :D) and walked to my kitchen, with the package. I opened it, and I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. It was Pocky Sticks! Wait, but there's a catch. It's Chili-dog flavored?! I rummaged through the package, incase there was a letter. And there was! Thank chaos! I read it, surprised with what it said-

Dear Amy Rose

I'm Mia, the CEO of Pocky Sticks®️and I'm a huge fan of you! I love you, and Sonic, and I want you two to be together. So we made a limited edition, chili-dog flavored Pocky! All you have to do, is play the Pocky game with him. If you don't know how to play, I'll explain it to you-

Well, of course I know how to play! So I've seen people do it! Also, does this woman not know that I'm still innocent? I haven't even lost my first kiss yet! But, I do want to lose my first kiss to Sonic, so I'll play. I call Tails' since I know Sonic won't pick up.

Tails: Hey Amy! Do you need anything?

Amy: Hi, Tails! Actually, yes. Is Sonic at your place? Because if I call him, I know he won't pick up.

Tails: Oh he is. Hold on a second... (He yells out Sonic's name)

Muffled idiot's voice in Background: What?

Tails: Amy's asking if your here!

Muffled idiot's voice in Background: So? Do I have to answer her? Yeesh.

Amy: Tails, put the phone on speaker mode.

*Said Fox does what he was told*

Amy: hem hem. SONIC, YOU IDIOTIC PINEAPPLE, COME HERE AND ANSWER THE PHONE OR I WILL CONTINUE TO EAR RAPE YOU. AND IF YOU HANG UP, I'LL COME OVER AND EAR RAPE YOU. IF YOU RUN OFF, I WILL CALL YOU AN IDIOTIC HOE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

Muffled idiot's voice in Background: Since when did she learn to cuss?!

Amy: Sonic, what I just said weren't cuss words. I can say cuss words, if you'd like. Now, if you want me to stop, come over to my house, I got something you might like. I got it in the mail.

That idiot!

Muffled hoe's voice in Background: ... fine...

Amy: Yay! I hung up, and went the door.

(Sonic's POV)

Frick. I have to go to Amy's house. I mean, I like her, as in I have a crush in her, but her plans to catch me can get deadly. I ran over to her house, and right on cue, she opened the door. She welcomed me in, and signaled me to go to the kitchen. So I did. She quickly took something off the kitchen island, and hid it behind her back. For a second I thought it might have been a s..e..x. toy, but Ames is way too young to play with one.

"So, I got this thing in the mail, and it said that you might like it. Oh, who am I kidding, of course you'll like it!" She giggled. Her giggles are making me feel something, something inside. Strange... Anyways, she pulls out what she hid. And it was... Pocky Sticks. What's so special about them? "I know what you're thinking. What so special about Pocky?" Frick, she read my mind! "But... They. Are. Chili Dog flavored!" My ears perked up. Did she say chili dog?!

"Ames, be a good girl, and give me the pocky.~" I said, making my voice soothing enough so she swoons over me.

"Nuh , uh, uh! You have to follow my rules, and play something with me."

"Alright."

"Have you heard of the Pocky game?"

"Not really..."

"I'll explain. I will have 1/6 of the Pocky stick in my mouth. We both have to bite as much of the Pocky stick as we can. And..-" Amy trailed off. I have a feeling she was gonna say something else.

"And?" I said. I was starting to get impatient.

"N-nothing. Nothing at all." Amy said nervously. She was blushing. She is so cute! Fuck, did I just say that?! "Let's begin, shall we?" Amy asked. She stuck the icing part out, and put it in her mouth. I chomped in the other side, and the closer I got to Amy's face, the more I bit into it, the more I felt my face heat up. I bit the stick one more time, and felt that our noses were touching. I thought for a minute, until an idea came.

I'll just kiss Amy, and by reflex, or something, she'll faint for a minute or two, and I'll win. I bit, and made our lips touch. My tongue demanded entrance, and she happily did so. I know it sounds disgusting, but the part of the pocky that was touching Amy's lips was visible, so I broke it, and I held on to Amy's body while smuggling a kiss. Her lips were very soft. Out of nowhere, her body felt limp. She looked like she was in so much pleasure, and was blushing like crazy. She was also sweating, oof. I didn't screw her, I just kissed her, DAMMIT. I ran to Tails' house since I lived there, and slowly tried to make my way upstairs, until...

"Ahem." Tails voice alarmed me. Knucklehead and Mr. Weed Plant were also here. Great. Just what I need. They all looked at what I was holding.

"Guys, I can explain this-"

"Sanic, you and Amy are too young to screw. I mean, you are an alright age, but Amy, she's 13 for crying out loud!" Silver said. Boi, whenever you're with Blaze, you always try and look assets that she barely has.

"Yeah, Sonic, at least wait a few years, we know you like Amy, but she can't become a mother."

"YOU IDIOTS. LISTEN TO MEEEEEE. Amy tried to make me kiss her, and-"

"You became horny and attempted to screw her."

"No. I kissed her a bit, and she fainted.

"Yeaaaahhh, I'm not buying that." Knuckles said. You idiot, you can't even tell the difference between left and right.

"Anyways, Imma go put her to bed."

"Sonic," Tails stopped me. "Are you telling the truth? And plus, I don't want you hooking up with her in here." Tails is 12, and he's had the birds and bees shit talk.

"Tails, I don't sleep with girls, or make love to them. Especially not to someone who is finally in her teen years. I'll wait until she's old enough." Fuhk. I said the last part out loud. "I mean, I-I w- NEVERMIND!!" I stormed off to my room, and carefully put rest Amy on to the bed. Her hands were in her pockets. I was pretty sure it wasn't like that when I picked her up. I put my hand in her pocket, and damn her hands felt warm. It was a paper, from the CEO of Pocky. So this is what this is all about. Amy's gonna be so screwed once she wakes up!

*internal screaming*

#sonamy #sonamy modern #oneshot #sonamy fanfiction #im sorry it was short #mr weed plant #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #sonic #amy #lyra ze hedgie boiii #lmao this is so retarded

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

(First film. Prologue. Instead of an iPad activated by Mal, Jay is in a white void room dressed for the coronation his hands are glowing brightest gold with magic)

Jay: once upon a time, well, two decades ago. The town loony’s daughter. Married the accursed beast. Of course he wasn’t a beast when they tied the knot (his magic creates images of the story as he tells it) true loves kiss solves everything. They had no honeymoon. Instead. Adam brought the kingdoms together and became the king of the United States of Auradon. And guess what he did? (Chuckles darkly) the overly shaved bastard pooled together his resources and magic. And engaged in necromancy, bringing back all the villains (passing by a line of said villains) you know the usual suspects, crown head, dragon lady, the psychotic furrier and my father. The mad genie. (He pauses in front of Jafar’s frozen form). Along with many many others who died in their stories. The “heroes”, for want of a better word, brought them all back. Along with the sidekicks and basically anyone who didntbfir in their perfect widdle bubble. To add insult to injury. The barrier they put up around the prison prevented them leaving even though the god of the dead were among the throngs punished. Can’t get out with out the fairy godmothers wand you see. There’s also no WiFi. So the days and nights are positively tedious. So it left them with nothing to do but procreate. How did they think villains would tear their own offspring when they’ve tried to murder innocents on multiple occasions. Needless to say their absolutely shit as parents. So we try to stay away as much as we can. Form gangs. Safety in numbers. It helps when you can turn some creepy old man who’s looking at your friend inside out with a snap of your fingers. You’ll meet more of us soon. But for now (he walks up to Ben’s portrait) you get to see the oh so handsome prince fight on our behalf against his nimrod of a father to give us basic human rights. See you soon

(His body glows completely gold and he disappears in a flash of light. Ben’s portrait is zoomed in on and changes to him rushing down a hallway with Doug)

Ben: oh darn we’re late

Doug: it’s alright. It’s not like they can start the meeting without you. You did call it after all

Ben: good point. Ohhhh if this doesn’t work I swear I’m holing myself up in my room with teenage dirtbag on repeat for a week

Doug: it’ll work

Ben: oh I hope so

(They burst into the meeting room. Several adults turn to look at him. Ben looks like he might pass out)

Ben: heh hhhhhhhhi heh heh

(He falls backwards but Doug catches him)

Doug: sorry about that but it was a long walk

Belle: it’s ok Doug. There was more then enough tea.

Adam: son.

Ben: mom. Pop. Uhhhh

Leah: Benjamin will this take long. I’m sure Audrey is waiting for you

Ben: pardon.

Leah: I’ve set reservations at a What was it Aurora?

Aurora: Burger King mommie. I suggested it.

Leah: why?

Belle (every fibre of her being fighting to not roll her eyes): anyway. Ben. What is it you wanted to talk to us about.

Ben: uh. Heh heh. As you all know I’m going to be king in a few months.

Adam: and we couldn’t be prouder

Leah: Audrey is so looking forward to your coronation then there’s the cotillion and we all know what comes after.

Snow: your majesty’s. Please. Let Ben speak. The poor child looks as though he might faint. Hello Doug dear

Doug: hi aunt Snow.

Snow: carry on Ben dear

Ben (slightly less nervous now): thank you your highness. As I was saying. I’m going to be king in a few months and I needed to decide on my first proclamation. And I’ve finally thought of one-hang on. Where are mr and Mrs Dearly

Beast: who?

Snow: the ones with all the delightful doggies

Leah: mutts. They are mutts. Who need to be shot

Aurora: I’m sorry for her. She’s recently been taken ill and hasn’t been quite the same since

Belle: she broke a leg coming back from a hunting trip. That is no excuse for her god awful behaviour

Leah: whatever do you mean?

Belle: I’d tell you. But then we’d be here forever

(Ben stays standing there unsure of what to do)

Doug: I think it may be time for Ben to say his piece yes?

Belle, Aurora and Snow: yes.

Doug: thank you. Carry on Ben

Adam: why are you here.

Doug: pardon?

Leah: yes Adam. I would like to know as well. Why are you here. Whoever you are

Doug: ah ha ooh boy. I’m Doug. Ben’s future major-domo. I’ve been in his class since pre-K.

(Leah just stares blankly at him)

Doug (long suffering sigh): my father is dopey the dwarf. Diamond miner. Made Audrey’s tennis bracelet

Leah: oh yes. So why are you in a meeting meant for royalty

Ben: IWANTTOBRINGCHILDRENOVERFROMTHEISLANDOFTHELOST

(All adults are silent. The the Dearly’s burst in)

Anita: we are so sorry we’re late. BB-8 got hold of my patent leather pumps and why does it feel like death warmed up

Belle: Ben. I’m. I’m

Leah: appalled. And so is everyone else. You have have something to do with this don’t you dwarf?

Doug (under his breath): that didn’t take long

Adam: this. Really. This is your first proclamation? Of all things

Leah (damn near hysterical): why not just tax the rich!

Aladdin: oh shut up you old bitch. Go on Ben

Ben: thank you. Al

Leah: you will address the sultan by his proper title you little bollocks

Belle: ok that’s it. Get out you psychotic old biddy

(Leah gasps dramatically)

Belle: Lumiere would you please?

Lumiere: of course ma’am

(He physically drags Leah from the room)

Jasmine: I’m assuming that us being here has something to do with what children you are picking

Ben: I

Doug (not willing to let Ben take the blame if it all goes wrong): we

Ben (immensely grateful): we, thank you Doug, looked through records and dossiers and found the first four, of many, we’d like to bring over.

Belle (encouragingly): go on dear

Ben (more firmly): the children of, Jafar, Cruella De Vil, Queen Grimhilde. And Maleficent

(From the hallway Leah lets out a hysterical screech. Belle throws a stress ball at the door to shut her up. The rest remain silent)

Roger: they, they uh. Oh my god.

Adam (trying to regain control of the situation): Dearly calm down. It’s not as bad as you believe

Anita (laughing hollowly): not bad. N. Not bad. How can it not be bad. Cruella De Vil has a child!

Aurora: oh those poor dears

Snow: stepmother has a baby? I’m a sister. No. Wait. They wouldn’t be fathers.

Phillip: how old are they.

Adam: it matters not how old they are

Aladdin, Roger and Phillip: THE HELL IT DOESN’T

Phillip: TWENTY YEARS. I SLAYED THE DRAGON. YOU BROUGHT HER BACK. AND NOW WE FIND OUT SHE HAS A CHILD. Oh my god!

Snow: I feel sick.

Adam: now look what you’ve done Ben.

Aurora: Ben didn’t engage in necromancy and bring people who have hurt us back from the dead, dump them on an island that we can all see from our windows. And leave them to raise children. I for one commend him on wanting to try and do what’s right by those that we have left to squander.

Ben: thank you Aurora

Belle: when do you plan on bringing them over dear?

Ben: about that.

(Aladdin laughs. Well. Cackles is more like it)

Jasmine: today?

Ben: yes. At least. I hope so.

Anita: pardon dear?

Doug: we don’t know what their parents are like. If they are like the sultan and her husband or if they are like

Phillip (looking directly at Adam): I completely understand. It’s just

Aurora: we’re going on vacation to Malta. Right after this meeting in fact. So

Ben: no matter how much you want to meet Maleficent’s child. You can’t.

Aurora: if it helps. Audrey will be here I’m sure she’ll support you in your des... (Belle gives her a withering stare) yeah I know.

Ben: I told her last month, when I came up with the idea in fact

Phillip: and

Ben: she laughed me off. Then made me take her shopping.

Doug: if it helps Lonnie Jane fairy godmother and I are 100% behind him king Phillip

Phillip: it does actually Doug. Thank you

Ben: dad. Just hear me out. Every time I look out there over the water I feel like we abandoned them.

Adam: then close the drapes

Leah (from the hallway): hear hear

Belle: SHUDDIT

Aladdin: I for one love the idea. I look forward to meeting them.

Ben: thank you sir

Belle: when do we expect them

Ben: this afternoon. Hopefully.

Belle: and I’m assuming you’ve had this set up for a while

Doug: fairy godmother had helps us get everything ready.

Belle: that’s good. I suggest we adjourn this meeting so Ben can put the finishing touches on the task.

(Everyone leaves the room. Ben and Doug stay behind with Belle)

Ben: thanks mom

Doug: thank you your majesty

Belle: you’re welcome boys. Remember. My door is always open

(All three leave and go their separate ways. The boys head to Ben’s room where two girls are waiting)

Lonnie: well?

Ben: mom’s on board

Lonnie: and your dad?

Doug: who gives a shit what he thinks?

Lonnie: true.

Ben: thank you. All three of you. I couldn’t have done it without you all

Jane: you didn’t need me.

Ben: I did. Your my friends. I can hardly do anything without you guys

Lonnie: well there are a couple of things you need to do with our us. Exams for instance

Doug: thank god you said exams

Jane: uh oh

Ben: what?

Jane: 3...2...1...

(Another girl throws open the door and walks in like she owns the place)

Doug (aside to Jane): you have to teach me that

Jane: it’s magic. You can’t learn it. I don’t even want it.

Audrey: of course you don’t

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal #jay son of jafar #ben florian #anti leah descendants #belle descendants #anti beast descendants #snow white descendants

51 notes · View notes

rosekmorgan · 4 years

Text

I am in a medical trial for a supplement to make people more perceptive. Unfortunately, it works.

[check tags for cws]

“Question thirteen,” I was mid-beer-sip when the announcer, a cheerful man who I knew only by the name of “Trivia Guy”, read out the next question. “In a human body, bacterial cells outnumber actual human cells by a ratio of three to one, ten to one, or six to one?”

“It’s ten to one,” Jack said. He sounded pretty confident about it, too.

“That’s a common misconception,” Lis responded, her eyes shining with the unmistakable joy of someone who is about to tell someone else they’re wrong. “It’s actually a lot closer to three to one. I was reading this article about gut microbiomes and fecal transplants the other day, and --”

“Jesus,” I looked at the plate of nachos shared between the four of us. The pile of chili on top didn’t look as appealing as it had moments before. “Can we not?”

She grabbed a chip herself, then, in classic Lis fashion, continued to talk through her full mouth.

“Alright, fine, but I’m telling you, it’s three to one.”

Jack grunted, writing something down on the answer sheet. Seeing as Lis was a bio major and Jack was in CompSci with me, I hoped he took her answer.

“Question fourteen,” Trivia Guy pulled no punches. “According to a poll from Cosmopolitan magazine, the worst vacation fashion trend was speedos, socks and sandals, or Hawaiian shirts?”

“Socks and sandals.” Sadie spoke up first. She didn’t even wait for anyone else to comment before she snatched the answer sheet from Jack and began to write it down.

“Oh, definitely,” I agreed, a few moments too late for it to matter. But hey -- Sadie was the reason our trivia team was ever anything besides dead last (not to mention the only one of the four of us who’d ever cracked open a copy of Cosmo). I took another sip of the beer and cringed slightly. Corona is not what I’d normally go for, but that night, the price point meant a lot more to me than the quality.

The night continued on in a haze of shitty beer and nachos that went cold far too fast. We didn’t place this week, but we were all slightly buzzed, so we got over it. As Trivia Guy made his final remarks, the waitress came and gave us our bills. My total for the night was $40, and that was before adding a tip. I could cover it, but just barely. Sadie watched me as I pulled out the cash and put it down on the table, completely emptying my wallet of change.

I stood up. My head spun for a moment, but it wasn’t too bad.

“I think I’m gonna have to skip next week.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to announce it to everyone. Probably the vodka that had come before the Corona. I regretted it the moment I said it -- way to look like a broke loser in front of everyone. Great one, Brent.

We shuffled out of the bar in a sea of other beer-sticky, stumbling students. Lucky for us, it wasn’t a long walk; All four of us lived on campus. There were probably cheaper places to get drunk on a Thursday, but there weren’t more conveniently located ones, and certainly none with trivia.

We said goodbye to Jack first, then Lis. I had a vague awareness of the May air being frigid, but it didn’t register with me on a physical level. The alcohol had taken off the edge of a Canadian spring that still thinks it’s winter. A coat would have been a more responsible way to handle it, but hey. Whatever works.

“You’re broke.” The words weren’t stated, but slurred. I watched Sadie as she swayed side to side. In the bar, it hadn’t been clear just how drunk she was. A delayed reaction, she clasped her hands over her mouth, then said something that was probably “I’m sorry!” into the palms of her hands. I just laughed.

“Yeah, I’m broke. What gave it away? The fact that I have no money?” Not my cleverest comeback. Not technically true, either -- I didn’t have money to throw around, but it’s not like I’d starve. I still had my meal plan and two parents who tolerated me, so I wasn’t exactly in dire straits.

“I’ve got an idea.” She grabbed my arm, her nails poking me through my hoodie, and I recoiled. Sharper than they looked. “No, really!”

“Alright, what is it then?” I half expected her to try and sell me on the essential oil bullshit I knew her sister was into, but then again, Sadie was always the brighter of the two.

“Dr. Davidson asked us to try and get him some subjects for some experiment he’s running.” She grinned. I had no idea who he was -- being in CompSci myself, I wasn’t familiar with any of the professors over in the psych department. I thought she’d said the name before, but I was never good with names -- especially the names of people I had no reason to care about.

“Okay, and?” I’d gone into experiments at Sadie’s behest before and never really gained that much from the experience. In one of them I got two marshmallows, which I appreciated. Most of them just involved watching videos of shapes dancing about on a screen and then writing a story about whether you thought the triangle and the square were friends or enemies. Neither of those were going to help me buy another night of beers.

“He’s paying participants $100 for being a part of it.” I froze in my tracks. $100 wasn’t life-changing - not for me, anyway - but it was more than enough to solve the problem of not having the spare cash to get wasted. “I wanted to do it myself, but he says we’re not allowed to if we’re in his class. He doesn’t want to ‘inadvertently prime’ us or anything.”

“Hell yeah,” I nodded, though Sadie hadn’t asked a question. “Yeah, I’ll do it. That sounds great. Do you think there’ll be any marshmallows?”

Before long, we were at our dorm complex. I helped Sadie to her room, and in return she promised me that she’d text me the details in the morning.

I made my way back to my own dorm. I unlocked the door and sighed. I hated the room. It was small -- scarcely room for a single nightstand between Tareq’s bed and my own. He was asleep already, a flat cardboard box that smelled of pepperoni flipped open on the nightstand. He was a good enough guy, but God, the number of pizza boxes that room had seen must rival all of Italy.

I was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow. I awoke what felt like five minutes later to the blaring of my alarm. The morning began like any other -- with me blindly grasping for my phone. Alarm turned off, I noticed a text from Sadie. She’d kept her word (as she always did) and sent me the details on where and when I could find Dr. Davidson.

Lucky for me, I had no classes that Friday. I’d done my damndest to cram everything else into the other four days of the work week to extend my weekend. When I finally rolled out of bed around 11:30, there were only two things on my mind: breakfast and Davidson.

After pancakes and coffee -- thank God for meal plans -- I took another look at the text. Davidson’s office was, to my surprise, in the science complex. Most of Sadie’s classes were in the McPherson building - an ancient brick monolith crawling with ivy - and that was where all the studies I’d been a part of before had taken place. I’d assumed that’s where I’d find Davidson, but apparently not.

Davidson’s office hours weren’t until three, so I headed back to my room to get showered. I didn’t know exactly what kind of test subject he was hoping for, but I figured being halfway presentable would probably be a good start. I nearly tripped over Tareq’s iPad in the process. He had a habit of leaving it unlocked on the bathroom floor, for reasons I tried not to learn.

Stone-cold sober, I made the decision to wear an actual jacket as I headed off to the science complex. The building had a name other than “science complex”, but I could never remember it since no one called it that. It was the newest building on campus, one of those angular glass monstrosities that makes any fan of classical architecture cry and bemoan the decline of society. I liked it well enough, but I was in the minority.

I got lost finding my way to Davidson’s office -- it was in the basement, and none of the elevators seemed to go down there. It was only after talking to a group of tense zoology students that I managed to get conclusive directions.

As far as basements went, the science complex’s was pretty damn classy. Since they couldn’t exactly carry on the whole glass-walls theme underground, they’d gone with a smooth black faux-marble. Comparing it to the basement where one of my small-group sessions took place -- where the black on the walls was almost certainly mold -- I felt a surge of jealousy.

Davidson’s office was not as classy as the surrounding corridors. Papers lay scattered around an oak desk clearly much older than the building itself, a man even older still seated behind it. His hair was dark, but streaked with grey that he made no attempt to cover, and his face was softly wrinkled. Looking at him, I had no idea how old the man was, but presumably old enough that he should have done a better job cleaning the place. I knocked on the open door and he looked up. His brows knit together and he squinted, the face of someone trying to figure out if they’re supposed to know you or not.

“Dr. Davidson?” I asked. His name had been on the door, but it didn’t hurt to confirm. He tilted his head like an inquisitive puppy, and I winced as his neck cracked. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Yes?” His voice caught me off guard - it was smoother than I would have assumed from his appearance. He waited patiently, big brown eyes staring expectantly in my direction.

“I’m here about the, uh, study.” It would have helped had I known what he was researching, but Davidson beamed up at me. Clearly he knew what I was talking about, even if I didn’t.

“You’re interested in participating?”

“Yeah. A friend of mine, Sadie, she’s in one of your classes,” I watched him process the name, trying to figure out who Sadie might be. “She said you were doing a study with compensation.” I winced after saying it -- way to look desperate.

“Yes,” He smiled, shaking his head, bemused. “A hundred as soon as you’re approved, and a hundred at the conclusion.” My eyes bulged. Sadie had said there was $100 compensation total -- I guess she’d finally been mistaken about something. All the better for me.

Davidson rifled through the papers on his desk, licking his thumb to help him separate a set of sheets. “We’ll need to make sure you’re fit first, of course.” He held two pages out, and I finally left his doorway to approach the desk. “Both of these can be done at the clinic on Stonemason Ave.”

I frowned as I took the papers. This I wasn’t expecting. One was a letter requesting an EKG, and the second a blood test. “You’ll need to put your info at the top of those there, but once you’ve filled them out you can get tested. They fax the results straight to me, same day.”

For a moment, I wondered what kind of psychology experiment needed an EKG and blood test, but the doctor continued. “Once I’ve got the documents, you come back and we can fill out your consent form. And,” he paused, grinning, “get you the first payment.”

Despite my moment of apprehension, I was grinning back at him. I took one more look at the papers, and gave him a nod. “Awesome.”

Davidson let me know my deadline for the testing, but he didn’t need to -- the second I was out of the science complex, I was on my way to the clinic. When both tests were through, it was dinner time. My parents were coming to visit on Saturday and Davidson had no office hours Sunday, so I resolved to visit him right at three on Monday.

The weekend flew by. It always did when my parents came. It was their mission to cram as much family time as possible into every visit. They lived just an hour away from the campus, but I was an only child. I didn’t really know what it was like for them, but I must have made the house feel different for me to not be around. Dad was always saying how empty it felt, while my mom told me how happy she was that I was pursuing my passion. Mixed messages, maybe, but think they just missed me. I missed them too. We always were close.

I woke up at 7:45am on Monday. I was one of the few who liked morning classes; I thought it was more practical to get class done early in the day so I had the afternoon to do whatever I wanted. This meant by the time three rolled around, I was finished class for the day and ready to pay Davidson another visit.

His office was tidier than it had been the last time. Papers were still scattered around the room, but they had coalesced into semi-defined piles. He seemed excited to see me.

“Wonderful news!” was how he began the conversation. The blood test and EKG had come through normal, which meant that it was time for me to sign my consent form -- and receive my first payment.

I skimmed the document. I didn’t understand a lot of it, but I also didn’t care. Much to my surprise, this wasn’t going to be another marshmallow or shape storytelling study. This was a full-on medical trial. Or, well...something like that. I was fuzzy on the details. Myself, and the other subjects, were going to be given some sort of supplements. I wasn’t on any medications they could interfere with, and I didn’t have any heart conditions that they could aggravate. Animal trials had indicated that, in mice, the supplements boosted reaction times and functioning in tests of reasoning. The most notable finding was that the rodents were more “generally perceptive”, whatever that meant.

The last sheet of the document included a list of seven other names. Below that were two lines for me to sign - one confirming that I consented to take part in the study, and the other confirming I did not know any of the seven listed people. I scrawled Brent Haywood twice*,* wrote my phone number and email below, and a few minutes later I was walking out of the room with $100 cash. I was giddy. $100 wasn’t much, but at least I wasn’t going to miss trivia after all.

I didn’t see Davidson again until Thursday. He’d emailed asking me to meet him and the other participants in the science complex. This time we didn’t meet in the basement, but in a small aboveground lab. I thought I was prompt, getting there right at three -- but when I walked in, there were already nine people present.

Davidson stood at the front of the room, a tray of bottles behind him. He flipped through some papers, whispering to the woman standing next to him. The other seven, clearly students, were in chairs organized into a rough semi-circle. One seat remained right on the end, next to a girl who looked to be a year or two my senior. Her brown eyes were warm and inviting, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested. She smiled as I sat down. I opened my mouth to greet her, but Davidson cleared his throat to gather our attention, cutting off any attempts at flirting.

“Hello!” He smiled and waved, and I couldn’t help but smile back. In the light of the lab, not crammed behind a desk, he looked a bit better off. He had an energy about him, that kind that radiates from anyone who has a genuine passion for what they do.

“You all know me, but I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Gill. She’s a fantastic woman and she’ll be assisting me throughout the duration of this study. Ms. Gill and I have worked together for the last few years, and she has even taken the lead on some of our most recent animal studies.” Davidson beamed like a proud parent. The faintest pink blush graced her cheeks as she smiled.

“Nice to meet all of you. I’ve got all of your consent forms here, but I would like to ask one more time before we begin: do any of you know each other?”

I looked down the line of chairs. Counting me, there were four men and four women. It struck me as an awfully small group, but this wasn’t my field. I didn’t know any of them. One man looked familiar -- I’d definitely seen him before. I was about 90% sure he worked at the Subway on campus. That hardly counted as knowing him, though. I looked back to Gill and shook my head. There were some murmurs of no from my cohorts.

“Excellent. Now, it is absolutely critical to the integrity of this study that at no point do you attempt to contact any of these fine folks outside of the context of the study. As we want to measure your individual responses to the supplement, we don’t want to muddy the waters by having you discuss your experiences with each other outside of the lab.”

I shot the girl next to me an exaggerated frown. She stifled a laugh, and turned her eyes back to Gill.

Gill went on to explain the process. She would be giving us each a bottle of the supplement. We were to take one pill each morning at eight o’clock. Failures to take it on time would need to be reported immediately. Every weekday, we’d report back to the lab at an assigned time and complete some basic reasoning tasks to assess any impact the supplement had on our abilities over time. For me, that meant I’d need to haul my ass out to the science complex at seven o’clock in the evening for the foreseeable future. I scowled - that was going to be annoying. The good news was that we had no need to show up on weekends.

The next morning, I woke up at 7:45 with a mild hangover. Trivia had been the night before. I’d thanked Sadie again for the lead, and she’d admitted she was surprised about the fact that there were only eight people there.

“I’d expected more,” she told me, sipping on her cider. “Assuming half of you are actually taking the supplement, the rest a placebo, that’s only four people in each group!”

“Who cares?” I asked, holding up my own. No discounted Corona this week. “Cheers to Davidson!”

It didn’t take long to make my hair look tolerable and pull on some clothes. A second alarm went off at eight, reminding me that it was time for me to take my first dose of the supplement. Tareq, not a morning person, growled into his pillow.

I didn’t give the pill itself much thought - it looked like a multivitamin, and it tasted like something that’d fallen to the back of an oven and continued to burn there for over a year before someone realized and pulled it out. I nearly gagged, but it was nothing half a bottle of Sprite couldn’t help with.

Nothing felt that out of the ordinary throughout the day, but I wasn’t really sure what I’d expected. It sure as hell wasn’t the pill from Limitless. The only difference I really noticed in my own behaviour was that I was overanalyzing everything I did and trying to figure out if it was the pill’s fault. Was I slightly jumpier today? Was I thinking about the pill too much because of the pill?

No. None of that. Obviously.

At six, I grabbed a quick dinner with Lis, Jack and Sadie. When I was done, I headed off to the lab and arrived just before seven. Subway guy was leaving as I went in. We gave each other a nod of recognition as we crossed paths.

Inside the lab, Gill and Davidson were seated at one of the black lab countertops. In front of them were some sheets of paper and some red and white tiles. I recognized them from when I was younger. In grade four I’d had to do some sort of test with those tiles where they showed me a picture of a completed pattern and I had to assemble it myself. I hadn’t expected to see them again at twenty-two.

Davidson seemed happy to see me, and gestured for me to come sit. The next twenty minutes were spent on a variety of tasks - not just reasoning, but memory as well. In one of them, they’d read me a series of numbers, and then I’d have to recite them backwards. I didn’t do particularly well on that task. I was more confident with the tiles, at least. Time flew by.

Gill was the one who actually administered the tests, while Davidson took notes, grinning the whole time. I wondered what he was so excited about; It couldn’t have been my test results. Finally, they took my blood pressure and sent me on my way.

As I went to leave, the brown-eyed girl from the first day was coming in. She smiled at me, and before I knew it I was smiling back. I just barely managed to choke back a hi before we’d walked past each other and I was back out in the hallway, alone.

In the empty hallway my heart was racing, and I couldn’t tell you why. I felt sweat instantly start to build on the back of my neck. I’d almost said hi to her when I wasn’t meant to. Davidson wouldn’t have been happy -- was that it? Or was it the simple fact that she was hot and I wanted to talk to her? Whatever it was, it felt stronger than it should have -- but -- goddammit, I was just overthinking things again.

Days passed, following the same pattern -- I’d get up, I’d take the pill at eight, and I’d spend the rest of the day overanalyzing everything I did. Each day it worsened, because I had another twenty-four hours of evidence that I was overthinking. My heart was getting one hell of a workout, though Davidson and Gill never commented when my blood pressure was taken.

A feedback loop sparked to life deep inside my chest. I’d hear my heart hammering away and I would feel anxiety make my hairs stand on end -- then I would think about what I was experiencing and the panic would grow deeper. I couldn’t talk myself down from it. Every time I tried, my body would fight against me, digging in its heels, turning up my nerves.

By Monday, I was on edge in a way I'd never experienced. In the past, I hadn’t been a leg-shake. Now, crammed into my lecture theatre seat, laptop balanced on the tiny desk, my right leg was positively vibrating. I nearly leapt out of my seat when Jack asked me if I could double-check a piece of code he had written.

“Jesus, dude,” He looked me up and down. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, but speech hadn’t come back to me just yet. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply and rhythmically in an effort to calm myself down. After a few moments passed, I was able to speak. “Yeah, it’s just...the study I’m doing. I think it’s getting to me, man.”

Jack shook his head, incredulous. “Yeah, no shit.” He turned, and as he did his arm clipped the edge of his laptop.

Something in my chest exploded, and my vision completely greyed out. When it came back, my hand had Jack’s laptop in a death-grip. It was still sitting on the desk, but it was clear it had nearly fallen. Jack, mouth slightly ajar, stared at me.

I swallowed hard, gently nudging the laptop into a more secure position on the table. As I pulled my hand back, it was quivering.

“What the fuck, Brent?”

A few moments passed, the instructor droning on in the distance.

“It was going to fall,” I finally answered, my voice weak. My heart was still throbbing, and the beginnings of nausea tickled at my stomach. It was too much. I closed my laptop, slipped it into my bag, and walked out.

The instructor paused to stare as I walked to the doors. I managed to choke out the word “sick” before I was out of the room. In the corridor, I broke into a run. I needed to go home.

I needed to lie down.

I spent the bulk of the day as a heap in my dorm room. I wasn’t an anxious person by nature, so it had to be the supplement’s doing. What a fucking shame. I feel like I’m going to die but I don’t feel any smarter.

Thankfully, I had my laptop and Netflix. I stuck to watching comedies for the rest of the day. Eventually my heart rate slowed to the point where it wasn’t dominating my every thought. By the time seven rolled around, I was in a state you might almost mistake for normal. A benefit, since I needed to haul my ass down to Davidson and Gill.

I didn’t see Subway guy leaving the lab this time. I wondered if he’d left early -- or maybe last time he’d left late. Oh well.

It was much the same as Friday -- little puzzling questions, tests of memory, rearranging tiles. If anything, I thought I did worse than I had on the first day. As it continued, anxiety began to rise in me again, building in my chest, setting my nerve endings on fire. I managed to keep it together until the very end.

As I finished up the last of the tile activities, my thoughts were consumed by the fact that there was someone behind me turn around now they’re behind you --

I nearly snapped my neck spinning around to look behind me. There was no one there -- at first. A second later later, the brown-eyed girl walked through the open door. Our eyes instantly met, and for the first time I saw her frown. It was probably off putting to walk into a room and find someone staring directly at you. I turned, gingerly rubbing my neck, back towards the researchers.

Neither was facing me. Instead, they were looking at each other. Davidson’s grin was wider than ever, and a smile was playing at Gill’s lips. Whatever that shared look said, I was deaf to it. Davidson turned, and offered me words that gave little clarity in the moment.

“Brent, you’re becoming an awfully perceptive person.”

Before I could respond, Gill stood up and gestured for me to leave. As I walked past the girl, she refused to look at me.

That evening, I received an email from Davidson. There was going to be a slight change to our regimen -- I was now to come in at 7:10pm. The message said that a greater effort should be taken to “space out” the subjects.

I was feeling pretty spaced out myself. By the time I was back in my dorm, all I could think about was going to sleep. But it did not come easily. No matter how long I lay in the bed, tossing and turning, I never felt at ease. Eventually, with the help of a meditation app my mother had emailed me months ago but I’d never bothered trying, I calmed myself to a point of stillness. That was when things got worse.

I am not sure if you have ever experienced sleep paralysis, but if not, consider yourself blessed. Instead of drifting to sleep, I felt a tingling sensation crawl across my limbs. I went to shake them out, and found I was frozen in place. I couldn’t see a damn thing -- my eyes may as well have been glued shut. There were no dreams, no hallucinations to break up the blackness. As I lay still as a corpse, the tingling gave way to numbness. Before long the only sensation I could experience was one of impending doom. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel.Unable to form rational thoughts in this dark void, I was absolutely certain I was going to die.

I don’t know how long it was I lay there in that worse-than-nightmare state, but eventually it ended. I woke up groggy, no memory of any dreams.

I don’t know why I kept taking the supplements. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. Perhaps it was the manifestation of some deep-seated self-loathing I’d never bothered to unearth, some sort of pill-popping l'appel du vide. It doesn’t matter why, it just matters that I did. I skipped classes over the next few days, only leaving to get food and to visit Davidson and Gill for the next round of my testing. The researchers would watch my actions and smile at me, but I have no idea if I improved. Davidson seemed thrilled, but he wouldn’t tell me why.

“What’s your problem?” Tareq had asked me on Thursday. I shrugged, my duvet pulled tight around my body. I was acutely aware of the dark shadows that hung below eyes -- sleep was getting harder. Every night, the pins and needles, the numbness, the sensation that Death Himself was in the room with me seemed to take up a greater percentage of my sleep cycle. I was anything but well rested.

My phone vibrated on the bed next to me, and I was angry. I shouted a string of expletives at the phone for daring to disturb me, at whoever was on the other end of it for having the gall to try and contact me, before tossing the damn thing to my bedroom floor.

“You’ve fucking lost it, dude.”

My skin prickled as he picked up a slice of pizza from the newest box he’d added to his hoard. I watched as he lifted the greasy, floppy triangle up to his mouth. When I realized he was going to drop it, I buried my head in my blanket. I didn’t want to watch. I didn’t want to be right. I didn’t want to be perceptive.

Through the blanket, I heard a muffled “fuck”. I screamed into the fabric.

“Fuck’s sake Brent, it’s just pizza.”

I didn’t respond. My hands shook, and I held the blanket tighter. I gripped it so intensely I feared my nails might tear through the fabric.

“Hey, it’s almost seven. Shouldn’t you be leaving?” Tareq spoke, clearly not out of a genuine interest for what I was supposed to be doing but because he had found a great way to get rid of me. Motives aside, he was right. I leapt off the bed, dropping the blanket on the floor as I went to pick up my phone from where it had landed.

Moving helped, terrifying though it was. Walking across the campus managed to lessen the feelings, or at the very least, distract me from them.

I broke down crying during the testing. Davidson lacked his usual grin, replacing it with a look of concern which, as far as I could tell, was genuine. He stopped the last test early. In what was clearly a breach of some sort of ethics code, he reached out to give me a pat on the arm.

I recoiled before his fingers could touch me, the hairs on my arm standing on end like I’d stepped out into a hailstorm without so much as a jacket. I stared at him, rubbing my face with my other arm to try and get rid of the tears. Finally, he spoke.

“I don’t understand.” He said it quietly. At first I thought he was talking to me, but he wasn’t facing my direction. He was looking down at the sheet where he’d been taking notes. Then he said it again, more forcefully. “I don’t understand.” He turned to Gill. She shrugged.

“What don’t you understand?” I asked. There was a tickle on my arm where Davidson had nearly touched me. Just a faint sensation, like a tiny spider had found its way onto my skin when I wasn’t looking. I tried to brush it off, but it wouldn’t go.

He didn’t respond. He spoke again, but to Gill rather than me.

“We need to stop this.”

“What don’t you understand?” I meant to just ask, but somehow I was shouting. Somehow I was standing, scratching my arm as I shouted.

“You were our most promising candidate, Brent.” His voice was quiet, and he refused to make eye contact. “Your scores have gone up every day, by a significant margin. You’ve become so much more perceptive, but -- “

There it was again. That word -- perceptive. I supposed it was accurate, too. I noticed people, sounds, things about to happen. I paid more attention to the world than I ever had before. I obsessed over it, whether I wanted to or not.

“But?”

“Maybe...too perceptive?” Gill whispered. As she looked up at me, I could see pity in her eyes.

She was right. As I stood in front of the two, I felt everything. I felt the fabric of my hoodie rubbing up against my chest, and the pressure of my jeans tight around my legs. I felt the crawling sensation growing across my skin, moving from one arm up to my neck, to my face.

For the final time, I ran from the lab back to my dorm room. Outside, the gentle wind hit my face, stabbing into my skin like icicles. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I screamed as it buzzed up against my leg. I pulled it out, glancing at the message from Sadie -- “you coming to trivia?” -- and I threw it as hard as I could against the pavement. I did not stop to look and see if it cracked. I left it behind and kept running.

Back in my dorm room, the first thing I did was tear the sweater off. It was too much to bear. The rubbing of fabric against my body was nauseating, and the sensation of unseen spiders creeping across my skin had reached an apex. No matter how much I scratched, I couldn’t stop it. In my absence Tareq had left, so I had free reign of the dorm. I headed for the bathroom, hoping to scrub away whatever plagued me.

It worked, to some degree. The itching lessened, but did not dissipate entirely. When I stepped out of the shower, I took a look at the mirror. I could see nothing there but my own face, the same as it had always been. There were no bugs visibly crawling across my skin, but I could feel them. Less than before, but still undeniably present.

I towelled off, then sat on my bed attempting to comprehend what was happening. This wasn’t imagination -- not according to Davidson, anyway. This was not simply hallucination brought on by lack of sleep. No, he’d said that I had become more perceptive. So what the Hell was I perceiving? As I sat scratching my arms, the explanation came to me.

When people say “the answer was inside you all along”, I don’t think this is what they mean.

It started with a tickle in my throat, the kind that lets you know you’ve got the beginnings of a cold. I coughed, an attempt to make the sensation go away, but it failed. If anything, it made my throat itchier. I stood to grab a glass of water, and my legs shook beneath me. Something was deeply wrong. The itching, the crawling, had sunk far deeper down into my throat than any cold ever reaches.

Once the awareness was there, I could not return to ignorance: There were things moving within me, and I would never be rid of them. Deep inside of me, there were billions of things squirming and twitching and pressing up against my internal organs, and I could feel every one of them. Now that I had become perceptive enough to feel them, there was simply no way to stop.

I tried to scream. I felt the movement of my throat and stopped because it was agonizing. I tried to stand, but the billions of living things inside of me crawled and shuddered as I moved. Innumerable flagella smacked against the walls of my intestines as I shifted, miniature whips cutting into me. I wanted to destroy each and every one of these legions of invaders who I had never asked for but who I would die without. I wanted to lacerate my abdomen, pry myself open and scrape them all out until only I remained, just me.

I tried to stand, but I hated it. I despised them writhing and scratching inside of me. Unable to take the sensation, I fell to my knees. The carpet burned like I had fallen into a lit campfire. Everything was too much and there was no escape because it was on me and within me. I started to sob and the tears seared my flesh like acid. I don’t know how long I was there on hands and knees, gasping as everything within me twitched and moved and boiled.

There was nothing I could do to quell the sensations, crashed there in the middle of my dorm room, but I knew how to make it stop once and for all. And so I began my mission of dragging myself to the bathroom. I pulled myself there on my hands, and my knees dragged. They turned red and raw and they felt like they had been shredded to the bone. The things in my guts wriggled and whipped and the things on my skin itched and crawled.

It was an agonizingly slow process. Eventually, my desperate, reaching palms were met with the cold tile of the bathroom floor. It was like passing from a volcano to a glacier, but I forced myself onward. My hand grasped for the latch on the cabinet under the sink.

I sit here with a bottle of drain cleaner in one hand, the other pressed to the floor as I try to hold myself up. Every second that passes, I still feel them, on me and in me. I’m not an idiot, you know, but there’s only one way out of this. The good news is that I’m going to take every one of those little fuckers down with me.

There’s one thing, though, that I can’t help thinking about as I sit here, trying to overcome the sensations long enough to do what needs to be done.

For my family’s sake, I hope I wasn’t in the control group.

#horror stories #writers on tumblr #original fiction #creepypasta #i mean not really but maybe people will click #self harm / implied suicide cw #original post

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houseofvans · 5 years

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SKETCHY BEHAVIORS WITH KIM SIELBECK

With a background in fashion, textile, illustration and printmaking, Honolulu based artist and designer Kim Sielbeck creates colorful, bold, and fun paintings and patterns inspired by lush landscapes in Hawaii. From murals to digital canvases, Kim recently created some our favorite customs as a Vans Custom Culture ambassador, using her signature color palette and designs! Find out more about Kim, what inspires her, and what she has coming up for the rest of the year. Take the leap!

Photography courtesy of the artist.

Could you introduce yourself to everybody? Hello! My name is Kim Sielbeck. I'm an illustrator living in Honolulu, Hawaii and have been here for about two years. Before that, I was in New York City for almost twelve years. I went to school at the School of Visual Arts. I grew up in a Coast Guard family and lived in Hawai'i as a child- it's much different being here as a grown up! Fun tidbits: I am a dog person, I was born in Alaska, I once broke my toe in mid-air taking a jumping photo.

How would you describe the art you create? How would you describe your particular technique? My work is colorful, bold, and fun. Mixing colors and choosing them before I start on a piece is something I love. I limit myself to flat colors–this evolved from focusing on printmaking in school and working as a textile designer for several years. Pattern is important in my work, which also carried over from the textile world.

What are your favorite things to paint? What are your favorite things to paint on? I'm very inspired by the verdant, lush landscape in Hawai'i- the plants here are unlike any other in the world. I also love painting people relaxing and having fun. A lot of what I paint is a reaction to current events today. I paint the world I want to live in. As far as surfaces- murals are my current favorite! Painting on a giant wall, getting covered in paint, and working in a public space beats working in my usual set-up, which is an iPad or computer.

What’s a typical day in the studio for you like? And what are you currently working on in the studio? Every day is different. It usually involves a couple hours of combing through emails, finding the right balance of podcasts and music (with some dance breaks), and zoning out while I'm drawing. Currently I'm working on some new personal pieces- I just painted a portrait of my friends Sarah and Danny and their puppy. I'm also working on a few editorial pieces for some magazines!

My studio is very unique- it's located in the Old Blaisdell Hotel, which was one of the first hotels built in Honolulu. There are lots of other creatives in the building, and it's nice to take breaks and talk story with them during the day. We all support each other and it's a great community.

When you're working developing a new painting or piece, how does it begin - take us from sketchbook, to color choices, to finished painting? A new painting starts as a tiny thumbnail to get the composition right. Then I'll start sketching right on the surface (normally wood panel) with a light underpainting. Picking color is something I do very early on- sometimes it informs the composition and the subject matter. I try to limit my palette to 5 or 6 colors per piece. Sometimes, I'll be 3/4 done with a piece and have another color idea- so I'll have to go back in and repaint entire sections of the painting. It's all trial and error, and you can always repaint something.

We love the colors and compositions of your works and designs. Can you tell us how you arrived at your color palette and how composition comes into play when you’re creating a piece? Years of working in the fashion and textile industry has given me a keen sense of color and color combinations. So much of my job as a textile artist was using colors that were popular for each season- we always had trend forecasting books laying around, and would often color or recolor a piece until it was right. We also limited our palettes to what commercial printers could print- usually no more than 8-15 colors per design. Additionally, color palettes were always the first thing we came up with when starting a design. I still have that approach today and often pick my colors before anything else is completely set in stone.

What tools will someone always find you using at your studio? I've got plenty of tubes of acrylic gouache laying around, lots of different brushes, and lately a lot of leftover house paint from murals. My go-to tools for commercial work include my iPad, desktop, and Wacom tablet. I'm able to leap from painting to digital work- most people can't tell a difference between the two!

How do you unplug yourself so to speak? What do you do to center or re-focus yourself if you find yourself stressed out about deadlines, art shows, and the sort? One of the reasons I moved to Hawai'i was to be able to unplug more. Prioritizing things like going outside and being in nature are great ways to step back and put things in perspective. I also make sure to keep a planner so deadlines don't creep up on me, and hit the gym to work out any lingering stress.

You recently worked as one of our Vans Custom ambassadors! We absolutely love the Vans you created for it. Can you tell us a little bit about the process, your concept, and the response you got? Thank you! I loved painting the Custom Vans... people always ask me where they can get a pair! My concept was to create one shoe with a tropical print and one with a desert print. They could be used to walk everywhere and anywhere across the globe. The colors I wanted to really pop- you would notice these shoes on someone's feet!

What do you enjoy about collaborations like this? If you could pick anyone in the world, who would you collaborate with? I've been a fan of Vans since I was a kid and tried to sneak into to the Warped Tour. I had big ambitions of skateboarding and surfing as a kid (I am finally learning how to surf!). The lifestyle, attitude, music, artistic improvisation, and boldness of skate/surf culture has always been magnetic, so working with Vans has been a dream job.

I love collaborating on all sorts of projects–I don't think I have one specific dream client. I love seeing my work adapted in new ways, like animation. I'd love to paint more murals, and also work on some big-impact projects that can reach more people and bring some color and joy into their lives.

What advice would you give someone who wants to follow in your footsteps? A career is not something that happens right away- you have to constantly work for it and adapt. I was hoping right out of school I would instantly become a world-famous illustrator... not the case. It took a few years to find my style and voice, and that's ok. More advice is to always pursue outside interests, and grow as a person. I was in a punk/pop band for several years in NYC (shout out Puppies!), learned how to sail, and traveled a lot. All these things, while not necessarily being art-related, helped influence my work and life.

How did start becoming interested in art and design? When did you find yourself doing it as a career? Moving around so much as a kid, art was something that was a constant. I could express how I felt, what I was going through, and could make friends doing it. Early in high school, I realized I could maybe do it for a living. My parents sat me down and asked me to come up with a plan for college and beyond, so I had realistic expectations and saw the hard work it would take. A good work ethic, some luck, and many hours of practice helped me push through. When I graduated college in 2009, there weren't many jobs. I lucked out and got a full-time job at the textile studio, while freelancing on the side. Eventually, 8 years later, the freelancing became stable enough to do illustration full-time.

When you’re not busy creating art, how do you unwind and chill out? When I'm not in the studio I'm trying to explore new places, go on hikes, go to different beaches, or learn how to surf. At the studio, my brain is on New York speed, but walking outside I switch back to Island Time immediately.

If you weren’t an artist, what do you think you’d be doing instead? I'd be a guitarist and lead singer, traveling the world in my amazing punk rock girl group.

So we gotta ask what are your FAVORITE Vans? I have some surf-green high tops I've worn for YEARS. I got them in Pasadena one night at an art opening when my sandals snapped in half. The Vans store was miraculously still open, and I ran in and grabbed them in the five minutes I had to spare. They saved my outfit and my night, and they've since traveled to London, Italy, Hawai'i, Japan, and beyond.

What’s coming up next for you? I'm going to Europe in September, for some work and some fun. I'm looking forward to a few bigger projects I can't talk about yet. I'm also working on some local Hawai'i projects, including working with the Humane Society. A beach towel collaboration with Surfer Towel's Christie Shinn (who you just interviewed!) just came out, too.

FOLLOW KIM | WEBSITE | INSTAGRAM | TWITTER | BEHANCE

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Vans Girls #Art School #Kim Sielbeck #interview #painting #digital #surfer towel #female artist

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niall-is-my-dream · 5 years

Text

You & Me - Part Twelve

2440 words

Callie's POV

You stayed in Niall's bedroom for an hour after Kim and Sam had left. Curled up with each other on his bed, kissing, talking and kissing some more. Both of you agreed that you couldn't let everything that was happening with Saskia come between you.

Niall had done nothing wrong, they'd dated, he decided to end it and he told her straight and kindly. He didn't ghost her or behave rudely to her, in fact you thought he had been too nice to her over the last few months. When she had turned up at rehearsals and at the Dublin gig, he had been polite to her, even when she was screaming at him for ending it. He had been verbally abused by her on numerous occasions and had taken it.

To say it broke your heart at how much it was affecting him was an understatement. His album was to be released in less than a month, he had interviews and performances to do. But he was a true professional and wasn't going to let it effect the buzz he was feeling at finally sharing his 18 months of hard work.

After the stress of the meeting with Kim and Sam, the group decided to chill out at home for Bex and Willie's last day in L.A. Although Saskia wasn't a physical threat to either of you, you were still worried about him, Mully and Willie going to the grocery store to get some supplies for a bbq.

"We will be fine." He said, as he ran his hands up and down your arms reassuringly before leaning in and kissing you goodbye.

He had been warned that although the court order prevented her from being near him, that didn't mean that she hadn't tipped off other paps to follow him with the prospect of an exclusive. Niall had a strict policy of never talking about his dating life. He was here to be a musician and talk about his music and interests, not his love life.

With the lads gone and the security gate and front door securely locked, you made your way through to the kitchen. You were desperate to talk to Bex alone, she was always the voice of reason.

Making another coffee for you both, you sat down at the kitchen table, the patio doors open letting the lunchtime sun in.

"So the shit hit the fan then!" Bex said trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah it fucking did!" You laughed. "Honestly you couldn't even make this shit up."

"Only in Hollywood hey?!"

You nodded before taking a sip of your coffee.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm actually ok. I'm obviously sad and shocked that it's happened but I'm also angry. Like how could she do this to him? I just....... He's an amazing guy and she's ruining him all because he wasn't interested in her anymore."

"I actually feel sorry for her." Bex said and your head shot up. "Hear me out ok?" And you nodded. "These models are told how to look constantly, they work out a lot, they're constantly on a diet. I doubt her mental health is good because of it."

"I guess. She was just so rude and shallow, she thought a lot of herself."

"Yeah and that's what she is use to in the world in which she lives in. It's sad really, I mean does she even have a good set of friends. You and I are lucky we have each other you know? Does she have that? Someone to rely on? I doubt it. It's all fake."

"Doesn't excuse her awful behaviour though? I mean who texts someone and says she's going to ruin them?!"

"Doesn't excuse her behaviour at all. Please don't think I'm sticking up for her or trying to justify her actions. I'm just saying her way of life is very different to ours. Being ahead of the game and ruthless is something she's use to. She probably didn't even batter an eyelid when she messaged him that. Is he doing ok?"

"He says he is but I think it's really got to him. He's worried about telling his parents, he hates worrying them. Plus I need to tell my parents, God I haven't even told them we are dating, now I have to tell them this too. They aren't going to be happy."

"I'd be more worried about Tom." She replied.

You ran your hand down your face and let out a massive sigh at the prospect of telling your older brother that not only had you got involved with Niall, which he had told you not to do. But you also had to tell him that Niall's crazy ex was stalking you both.

"Maybe you should make sure that Claire is with him when you tell him." She smiled.

"Oh God yeah, Claire needs to be there. Think I'll Skype my parents now actually before it gets too late." You said looking at the clock on the wall.

"Ok, well go in the living room and I'll be just in here if you need me."

"Thanks hun."

You were shitting it if you were being honest. You set up your iPad on the coffee table and sat down on Niall's big arse sofa. What was with this boy and his massive sofas? You knew your Mum would be reading on her iPad like she always did in the evening, so would see the request for a Skype call. Within seconds of calling she had answered.

"Hi baby girl!" She said excitedly. "How are you?"

"Hi Mum, I'm good. How are you?"

"Oh you know, same old. What about you? You've got a few days break haven't you? Where are you, in LA?"

You had given your parents a schedule of where you would be while you were away, even adding the time difference for them. Your Mum had panicked one time when you were in Canada for a show with another artist and she had forgotten the time difference. She couldn't work out why it took you 5 hours to reply to her text. You had been asleep in bed, as it was night time there.

"Um is Dad there? Want to talk to you both."

"Yeah he is, hang on." She said before the screen showed the artex ceiling as she made her way over to the sofa where your Dad was sitting.

He waved and blew you a kiss. You were a Daddy's girl, even at 25 your Dad still blew you a kiss when you skyped.

"Hi Dad."

"Hey sweetheart, everything ok?"

"Yeah, I just need to talk to you about something."

You told them that you and Niall had started seeing each other and their eyes widened. They hadn't been expecting that. When you told them about what was happening with Saskia, your Dad took off his glasses and sighed. He ran his hand down his face just like you had done in the kitchen not so long ago.

"So there's a restraining order, so she can't come near you or Niall?" Your Mum asked, her voice laced with worry.

"It'll be just to prevent her from coming near him, but it'll protect me and other crew members since we are all together on tour."

"What about the break next month, when you come home?"

"I'll be with Niall for a lot of that anyway Mum. Look, she's not going to hurt us. She's just not happy that he ended things and wants to make out that he cheated on her with me."

"And did he?" Your dad asked.

"No!" You replied shocked that he had asked you outright.

"Paul!" Mum gasped.

"I had to ask, you've been working with him for what ten months and nothing has happened until recently?"

You internally cringed at having this conversation with your parents.

"Yes, we have always just been good friends. He was single for a few months before we got together."

"So she's just jealous? This is just because she got dumped?" Mum asked.

"Pretty much."

"Wow, she sounds a little bit crazy." Dad said shaking his head.

"She is." You replied.

You heard the front door open, the sound of the lads chatting as they entered the house. Looking up you could see Niall place his bag on the ground and make his way over to you.

"I'm just on Skype with my parents." You said looking at him.

He nodded and came and sat next to you.

"Hi." He said nervously. He hadn't a clue what you'd said or what their reaction had been.

"Hi Niall." Your mum said. Your Dad just nodded, but smiled.

"So I've told them what's been happening." You explained to him.

"Ah." He replied, nodding. You could tell he was nervous. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm sorry that I have put your daughter in this position. I had no idea that Saskia was capable of this behaviour. I care about Callie a lot and...... " he paused for a moment. "Hopefully my legal team will be able to prevent her from coming near us and from publishing pictures of us going about our day to day stuff."

"Niall, we are sorry to hear that you've been going through this. Callie said that this girl has been harassing you for weeks. Your family must be worried." Your Mum said, that clear protective motherly tone coming through.

"I called them while I was out actually. My Mam is coming over to London when we get back for a few days to stay with me. They both know I've got a good team who look after me."

"Maybe we could meet you in person, if you have time while you're back?"

Oh god.

"I'd love that. I'll check our schedule and maybe we could all have dinner together at mine." He replied and took your hand in his.

Your Mum was definitely won over by him, she practically swooning at his offer to cook for you all. You could see your Dad ticking everything over in his head.

You ended the call not long after. Closing the iPad and placing it flat on the coffee table, throwing yourself backwards you landed on the sofa and let out a massive sigh of relief.

"They took that pretty well. My Mam freaked out, she's insisted on coming to London."

"Yeah they weren't too bad were they? Sorry they asked to meet you."

"Why are you sorry?" He replied as he crawled up the length of your body and settled himself between your legs.

"Just a big thing isn't it, meeting the parents?"

"Should I not have invited them to dinner to meet my Mam to?" He asked as he leaned down to kiss your neck.

"Mmmm, you know talking about our parents whilst your kissing my neck and rubbing your erection against me is weird."

He laughed against your neck, but carried on regardless. You pushed your hands up through his hair and across the nape of his neck.

"The things you do to me." He mumbled as he rubbed himself against you again.

"For fuck sake you two!" Willie smirked as he walked in the living room. "Get a room!"

"This is a room, in my own house!" Niall said, as he turned his head towards Willie.

Willie just laughed. "Come and get the bbq going you daft twat, there's plenty of time for that later." Before he left the room and headed towards the kitchen you presumed.

"We will finish this later Petal." He said smirking, before standing up and adjusting himself in his shorts.

You all changed into swimwear and grabbed some towels. The lads had brought a pop up football net at the grocery store, along with all the food you would need for the bbq. Niall had got it lit, leaving it to warm up while yourself and Bex got some salad ready in the kitchen.

It seemed almost crazy how easily the whole Saskia fiasco was forgotten as you consumed bbq food that afternoon and played games. Willie and Bex were due to get picked up at 8:30 that night ready for an overnight flight back to London Heathrow.

You always worried about her while you were away. Yes, she had other friends that she spent time with and a busy job, but you two were close. It felt good knowing that she had started dating Willie. While the lads tried to header the ball in the goal before falling in the pool with a splash, you and Bex had a catch up about her and Willie. Things had already got quite serious in the short space of time that they'd been together, similar to you and Niall. They text everyday and saw each other as much as their work schedules would allow. You could see how smitten they were with each other.

When it came to say goodbye to her that evening, you both cried like you always did. However it would only be just over a week before you could see her again back in England.

Over the course of the next few days Niall had a number of interviews and meetings for the album release next month. You kept yourself busy by going to the gym that Mark had recommended to you. Kicking the shit out of the punch bag always made you feel better. You didn't worry about feeling unsafe, it didn't even cross your mind, but Mully insisted on coming with you wherever you went.

With the Mexico leg of the tour cancelled due to an awful earthquake, you only had the Rio show to do before a 3 week break from tour. This was going to be a busy three weeks though with the album release and various interviews and performances.

Niall was on form in Rio, the troubles of what had happened with Saskia over the last few months were firmly locked away and forgotten.

The legal stuff went through without a hitch, she hadn't contacted him and no stories had appeared in the press.

Flying back to london after the show had felt good. Niall had a golf event to attend in Scotland which meant you had a few free days to spend with Bex and Willie playing the third wheel. It also meant it gave you chance to catch up with your brother and sister in law. You'd asked your Mum and Dad not to mention you and Niall to him, as you wanted to tell him face to face. You were not looking forward to it.

Part Thirteen

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/183397925828/you-me-part-thirteen

#Niall #Niall Horan #Niall fan fic #niall horan fan fic #Niall fan fiction #Niall Horan fan fiction #solo Niall #one direction #flicker sessions #Emily writes #1dff #Niall fluff #Niall smut

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winchesterprincessbride · 6 years

Text

Worlds Collide-Part 2

Part 1 My Master List

A/N: This story is a Marvel/Supernatural crossover and a collaboration between me and my sister in all the ways that matter @kittenofdoomage. I have been annoying the shit out of her talking about this thing NONSTOP, but she likes me so she’s cool with it.

Ten Months Later

Two weeks had passed since your last case and you were enjoying some downtime with Sam. It was nice to just spend time with him and not have to focus on the next thing that was trying to kill you. The two of you stayed up late sharing stories about your childhoods. Sam told you all about growing up as a hunter, and leaving the life before John’s disappearance and Jess’ death sucked him back in.

You shared the loneliness of spending your life in the foster care system, bouncing from house to house, never fitting in anywhere, and always trying to hide your abilities. Finally when you were fifteen and considered pretty much “unadoptable”, a kindly couple fostered you and were in the process of adopting you. The Bradshaws gave you the kind of stability you had only dreamed of.

Then Mrs. Bradshaw got possessed by a demon and killed Mr. Bradshaw and tried to kill you. Your heart broke when you used your powers and electrocuted her. You hit the road and immediately hooked up with a hunter who explained to you what her black eyes and complete personality change meant. And then your eyes were opened to what was REALLY out there and you began to hunt full time, using your abilities for good instead of giving tiny shocks to the bullies in your foster homes.

The three of you were sitting at the table in the war room playing poker to pass the time and Cas had popped in. He observed in silence for a time, his face unreadable as he obviously tried to pick up the game. “Do you know how to play?” you asked the angel.

He shook his head. “I’ve never had the opportunity.”

You patted the chair next to you. “Come, sit. I’ll teach you, it’s fun. I bet you're a good bluffer. You have a great poker face.”

“Bluffer?”

Dean snorted. “She’s gonna teach you how to lie, Cas.”

The angel looked alarmed. “I don’t think I……” An insistent knocking on the bunkers heavy front door startled everyone and Cas stopped talking. Sam and Dean instantly jumped to their feet, throwing down their cards and pulling their guns from the back of their waistbands. Cas was up out of his seat, angel blade drawn and at the ready.

“Someone’s at the door? Does that ever happen?” you asked tentatively, unsure if anyone else actually knew where this place was.

“We’re off the beaten path. People don’t exactly come here trying to sell us Girl Scout cookies,” Dean replied, eyes never leaving the door, his finger on the trigger of his Colt.

The knocking came again. “Should we answer it?” you said. “If it were something trying to kill us I don’t think they’d knock.”

Sam nodded slowly and you took the lead, walking up the stairs, with Sam and Dean right behind you. Pulling open the heavy door, you were surprised to see a helicopter in the driveway, partially obscured by the two people in front of you. Standing in the doorway was an attractive redheaded woman dressed in all black who looked vaguely familiar. Next to her was a muscular man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

You recognized him instantly even though he wasn’t wearing his trademark red, white and blue suit. Your eyes widened and you pulled back a little, fingers lightly gripping the door.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N?” the woman asked, her voice a husky purr.

“Who wants to know?” Dean snapped, standing behind you, unable to see the visitors with the light filtering in the doorway from outside.

“Dean,” you hushed, not taking your eyes off of the visitors. “Don’t you recognize him?” You stood back, gesturing for them to enter. “Come in, please.” The blond man grinned good-naturedly, stepping inside and offering his hand to Dean, who was struggling to pick his jaw up off of the floor.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” he said. “Steve Rogers. Is this a good time?”

Dean stared at him, unable to process what he was seeing in front of him. “Holy crap, Sammy. It’s Captain-freaking America,” he whispered in awe.

You had invited them into the library to sit and talk. “This is our friend Castiel,” you told them, gesturing in Cas’ direction. Cas was staring intently at the Captain, a perplexed look on his face. “Clearly you know who we are.”

“Agent Romanoff,” the woman replied. “Nat,” she added as she turned to Sam and Dean. “The Winchester brothers. And Cap’s reputation proceeds him as usual.”

“Call me Steve, please,” Captain America said, looking directly at Dean, who was beaming like a tween meeting Justin Bieber.

“Okay, then, Steve. Why are you here? What do you want with us?” Sam asked quietly, distrust evident in his voice. He was standing right behind you, looming over your shoulder like he had to protect you from them.

“Are you a shapeshifter?” Cas asked Cap suddenly.

“Am I a what?” Steve looked really confused and everyone looked at Castiel in concern.

“You are at least 90 years old,” he started to point out, “but you have the appearance of being no more than 30. So, are you a shapeshifter?”

“He’s not a shapeshifter, Cas. I’ll show you the comics later. It’s all good, man,” Dean informed him helpfully and the angel frowned, apparently unsure of the reply.

“How did you know he was 90 years old? That was pretty specific,” Natasha asked, her face a mask of curiosity.

“I am an angel of the Lord. I know many things,” Cas said matter-of-factly before anyone could stop him.

“Excuse me? You think you’re an angel?” Nat said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Sam held out a placating hand. “Listen, guys. I’m sure you have seen some weird stuff in your line of work. We have too. You came all the way out here to find us, so you must have some intel on us, and know what we do.”

“The monster thing? That’s not really true, is it?” Cap questioned intently, his eyes on you.

“Every freaking word. Vampires, werewolves, witches, and all that scary shit that gave you nightmares as a kid, it’s all real,” you told them with a sigh.

“And demons, and angels and God. All Real. We were just as shocked to find out aliens were real. We’ve never run into them before,” Dean said honestly.

“Wow. Tony’s gonna have a fit when he hears all this,” Nat said to Cap.

Sam perked up at that. “Tony Stark?”

“I need to show you something.” Nat pulled out a small Ipad and set a video to play. It was from the town in Texas where they had fought the vampires. There had been a big showdown with the surviving six in an abandoned grocery store in town where they were holed up. The video that played clearly showed Y/N using her powers and pulling lightening in and blowing out the front windows so they could storm the building. Nat stopped the video.

“We also have footage of the four of you from other places around the country. It caught Tony’s attention. He wants to meet you and your friends,” Cap said quietly.

“Someone filmed me using my powers?” you said nervously. “Who took this video? I’m so careful...”

“Tony Stark wants to meet us? Why?” Sam asked excitedly, calming a little when you glared at him. The opportunity to meet the famous Tony Stark would usually give you a little booster but knowing people had filmed you? Seen you use your powers? It just made you worried about the entire situation.

“He hasn’t given us any of that information,” Steve explained. “He just asked us to fly out and invite you back to Avengers Tower. Said he’d come himself but…”

Nat smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Steve’s better at this.”

“Avengers Tower! In New York?” The laughter bubbling in your chest caught you by surprise at the thought of anyone wanted to meet you. There were plenty other special people out there, right? “You don’t expect us to come on that helicopter of yours, do you?” You pointed at the elder Winchester. “Dean doesn’t fly.”

Dean looked mortified, shaking his head furiously. “Hell, no. Can I drive there?”

“So are you all willing to come?” Nat asked. You looked at Sam, and he nodded.

“Cas?” you asked the angel, wanting at least a little backup. Okay, they were the Avengers, the good guys but all too often you’d seen good guys go bad when they didn’t understand something.

“I will go of course,” he replied and you smiled, nodding in relief before turning to the most anxious member of the small group. Dean was already at the point of sweating over the helicopter.

“Dean?” you asked softly.

“As long as I don’t have to fly,” he pointed at you, “I’m in.”

“What about you, babe? I know you’re not keen on showing people what you can do, so it’s your call.” Sam was smiling when he said this, and you knew he would go along with whatever you wanted.

You held your hands out, grinning to cover up your nerves. “How can I say no to Tony Stark?”

“So it really would be easier if we flew. The ‘copter is much faster than a regular plane. It will have us to New York in an hour and a half, tops. Tony always seems to know everything about everyone, Dean, so he had Dr. Banner made a hypospray that will put you to sleep for out the duration of the flight,” Steve told them, watching Dean for his reaction and he frowned, clearly uncomfortable with leaving his Baby behind.

“That’s a good idea. Do you really want to bring the Impala to New York City where she could get damaged or stolen?” Sam asked his brother, injecting concern into his voice as he placed one hand on Dean’s shoulder and the elder Winchester sighed.

The best way to motivate Dean was to threaten his Baby with bodily harm. “Fine. Let’s do that then.”

“Okay, everyone. You have ten minutes to pack what you need. Then we move out,” Steve ordered in an authoritative voice but there was still a smile on his face and everyone jumped to comply.

As Dean and Sam walked you down the hall to your room, Dean’s face lit up with excitement. “Man, Cap is so cool. And Iron Man? This is going to be awesome!” He disappeared into his room and you looked up at Sam, wishing his hopeful grin would make you feel better.

“It is going to be awesome,” he reassured you, parroting Dean’s words softly. “We’re with you. The whole way.”

Part 3

@kittennovak @midnightdream83 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @crystallstaircase @inumorph @justballoonfishthings @enthusiasmisdepressing @vatuuwinchester @skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it@tokyoghoulyz @pinknerdpanda @atc74 @jayankles @notnaturalanahi @midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals @winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog @essie1876 @bohowitch @just-another-busy-fangirl @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278 @stylinson531 @valynsia @dr-dean @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek @luciisthebest @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1 @canadianjelly @muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @ilsawasanacrobat @nanie5 @weasleywinchester @samisimportant-blog @fatalcrossbow @violetsamalamb @letmusicguideu @grantsgorgeousgirl @faegal04 @feelmyroarrrr @kay18115 @milkymilky-cocopuff @mikimausiii @the-greatest-temptation @superpanicromancesummer @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @emoryhemsworth @squirrel-moose-winchester @jennifromtheblock1013 @spnbaby-67 @mogaruke @sweetmisseddreams2002 @negan–is–god @spnwoman @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @maximumkillshot @sweetpeamoose @mrs-meghan-winchester @woodworthti666 @herbologystudent252 @sandlee44 @blackcherrywhiskey @andkatiethings @thoughtfullyfurryangel @apeshit7x

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dreamofelectricmareep · 7 years

Text

A very belated birthday one-shot for the wonderful @drsweetheart. Happy 17th, Bud! ❤️

Callie and Arizona had been back together for over four months now. Callie spent the first two finishing out her contract with NewYork Presbyterian, and the last month and a half staying at The Archfield while she settled back into her role as Chief of Orthopedics at Grey-Sloan. They decided it was too soon for her to simply move back in with her ex-wife-come-girlfriend, and Callie didn’t have the heart to look at real estate without the woman she knew she’d be spending the rest of her life with. They didn’t need to rush things this time. There was no car crash, or shooting. No trip to Africa, or surprise baby on the way. They had the rest of their lives to figure all of the details out.

And yet, between working out logistics for Sofia’s schedule and reaching the point in their relationship that allowed for sleepovers, they realized that Callie had all but moved in already. So Arizona presented her with a shiny new house key while on a date at a fancy restaurant to make things official, and Callie gladly accepted. Two weeks later, they were finally settling into a routine. It really felt like home again.

Walking out of the ensuite bathroom, Callie found her love in a pink nightie, looking intently at her iPad, presumably running through her schedule for the next day. She looked utterly adorable with blonde hair perched on the top of her head in a messy bun, scrunching her nose in concentration, with a new pair of tortoise shell reading glasses begrudgingly perched on the tip. Callie grinned, pulling back the covers and settling into her side of the bed, leaning over to plant a kiss on a soft fair cheek.

“Do you have any idea how adorable you are?” Callie asked, utterly love-struck.

Arizona set the iPad down on the nightstand and turned to face her bedmate, raising an eyebrow. “I’m old, Calliope. Adorable came and went.”

“You’ve always been adorable,” Callie said earnestly, reaching for Arizona’s hand so she could absently play with pink-polished fingers. “I don’t understand how you can possibly be so cute and so sexy at the same time.”

The glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose and Arizona’s disbelieving look was reminiscent of a sexy librarian scolding Callie for talking too loud. “Are you trying to get lucky?”

“Is it working?” Callie asked with a quirky laugh. “And no, for the record, I’m not,” her tone was serious. “I am just so ridiculously, completely, and entirely in love with you.”

Arizona couldn’t help but blush, looking down at the duvet. She still felt butterflies everytime Callie said that, even though she first uttered it almost a decade ago. “The feeling is mutual,” Arizona murmured, looking up into warm brown eyes. She took off the reading glasses she despised and set them on the nightstand, scooting closer to Callie, pulling a tan arm around her. She rested her head on Callie’s shoulder.

“Your birthday is coming up,” Callie murmured, pulling Arizona closer and kissing the crown of her head.

Arizona groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s your first birthday since we’ve been back together. I want it to be special,” Callie said. “What did you do last year while I was in New York?”

Arizona thought back to nearly a year prior, while her daughter was across the country living with Callie and Callie’s then girlfriend. She and Penny broke up only a few weeks later, right before Thanksgiving. “I, um, I worked. It was a normal day. April made me blow out a candle on a cupcake, but I was between surgeries so I didn’t get a chance to eat it. She wanted to do something that night, but Jackson was on call so she had Harriet. Webber and DeLuca were working on an MVC, so I just got takeout and wine and I facetimed Sof.”

That just about broke Callie’s heart. She knew Arizona really didn’t like birthday celebrations, but no one should spend their birthday alone. Especially not Arizona.

Callie remembered that evening very well. Penny was working late and Callie decided to take call and leave Sofia with a babysitter because she knew that if she didn’t keep busy, she’d leave an embarrassing and probably drunken birthday voicemail for her then-ex.

“I’m sorry,” Callie murmured into sweet smelling blonde hair.

“Don’t be,” Arizona said, though Callie caught a bit of sadness in the corners of her fake smile. “Nobody bothered me, I got to talk to our baby girl, and I binge-watched Netflix with a bottle of wine. It was an awesome evening.”

Callie felt guilty. She knew that rationally, she shouldn’t be, but her feelings about Arizona had never been rational. She wanted to make Arizona’s next birthday one to remember. One that made up for the string of awful birthdays between the plane crash and now.

XXX

Arizona found an excessive yet exquisite bouquet of roses waiting for her at the nurse’s station. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite contain her smile, taking them into her office to avoid anyone mentioning the b-word. She really didn’t want any more attention than the three dozen perfect roses in various shades of pink already awarded her.

She set them down on her desk and opened the card. Of course, they were from Callie, who already spent the morning making her breakfast in bed and showering her with affection. Arizona found that the only way she liked being sung Happy Birthday was in her bed, cuddled between Callie and Sofia. She made an exception for that and only that.

Arizona,

Happy Birthday. Thank you for making me the happiest woman in the world. I am utterly enamored with you, today and every day.

I took you off the surgery schedule today. Please don’t freak out. Just humor me. Meet me at our spot in the park.

Your Calliope

Arizona couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the note. This is exactly what she hated, the unnecessary attention a birthday garnered, but she still grabbed her coat and bag and followed Callie to the park. She’d follow Callie anywhere.

When she scaled the hill she found Callie sitting on their bench, wearing a nervous smile. Arizona could she was up to something.

“Hi,” she said softly, pecking Callie on the lips.

“Hey. I have donuts,” Callie said, holding out a pink box for Arizona to inspect.

Arizona smiled and sat down beside her. “Oh, these look awesome!” When she looked up from the box of donuts, she found Callie sitting beside her, holding a diamond ring. Her hands were shaking.

“I don’t like being your girlfriend,” Callie abruptly announced. As she registered what she’d just said, she shook her head, looking panicked. “No. That was wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. I love you and I want to be with you forever. It’s just, we already did this. We dated, and then I was your wife, and I– I guess I don’t like not being your wife. Because I feel like your wife. A-and I want to be your wife again, and I know it’s really soon, and I sound crazy, but I’m hijacking your birthday. You hate celebrating your birthday, so I thought why not make it something you like to celebrate? So you should marry me. Today. I mean, if you want to.” Callie looked up at Arizona, so hopeful and yet so scared to be let down.

Arizona simply brought her hands to Callie’s cheeks and kissed her with everything she had. God, she loved that woman.

“Best birthday present ever,” She murmured, breathless.

“I-is that a yes?” Callie asked.

“It’s a yes,” Arizona said with a dimpled smile.

XXX

They were married a few hours later at the courthouse. It was just the two of them and Sofia. They exchanged vows and rings, and gave Sofia a heart necklace in rose gold that matched their own.

April and DeLuca graciously volunteered to set up the small reception at their house. Callie, not wanting to make the same mistake twice, told Arizona there would be a party on the drive home. The blonde was just too happy to care.

Standing in the kitchen, looking at the cake, Callie glared at April. She’d ordered it in advance, but only had “Happy” written on it, so if Arizona had said no, they could just write “Birthday” beneath it. Instead, in pink icing, beneath the neatly scripted “Happy” was a barely-legible semblance of the word “Marriage”.

“Happy Marriage? Really? And you can operate on people in a freaking warzone, but you can’t write on a cake?” Callie snapped at April, clearly stressed. “You should have had Avery do the writing.”

“Those DIY icing pens are deceptively hard to use,” April countered. “And what was I supposed to write? Happy Wedding? Happy Life? Happy Congratulations?”

Coming up behind Callie, Arizona wrapped her arms around her wife’s waist. “Be nice to April, please. I’d like to keep her around.”

“Congrats, guys. Torres, you think the third wedding’s the charm?” Alex asked through a mouthful of bruschetta.

Callie groaned. “Don’t say it like that. Besides, this doesn’t count, right? Arizona and I weren’t even legally married last time.”

“It counts. I married you in front of God and everyone. You didn’t need some piece of paper to make that real,” Bailey said, refilling her glass of wine. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Arizona couldn’t stop smiling. “Thanks.”

Callie rested her head against Arizona’s shoulder, groaning again. “Saying I’ve been married three times when I’m hardly over forty makes me sound like a whore,” she whined.

“Eh,” Arizona shrugged. “I think I’ll keep you anyway.” She planted a kiss on Callie’s cheek, taking a piece of cake with her to the living room.

Callie followed, sitting beside her wife. “I didn’t really plan a honeymoon,” Callie said so only they could hear. “But we could leave Sof with your parents, or my dad, or Meredith and finally take that child-free trip to Spain you always dreamed about. You know, just you and me, with bikinis, sangria, and lots of sex…”

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t really want to leave Sof right now.” Arizona took a bite of her cake.

Callie’s face fell. She never had to endure weeks at a time without Sofia. Sometimes she forgot that her wife had.

“Don’t worry. Dreams change, Calliope.” Arizona looked over at Sofia, who was having cake with Zola. “You know, Sofia’s never been abroad. And she could practice her Spanish...”

“I’ll start looking at flights,” Callie said with a smile.

#calzona #calzona fanfiction #calzona fic #arizona robbins #callie torres #jenna writes #one shot #Sorry this took me so long #school has been killing me

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immortalpramheda · 7 years

Text

The 100 ‘The Tinder Box’

From the title of the episode I thought it was going to be about how Jaha downloaded the Tinder app onto his iPad and went out to meet someone and was kidnapped/murdered. Just me?? Haha, in all seriousness this episode was insane!! I think I’m still in shock.

Raven randomly started floating and it bought back series S2 feels to when Finn took the blame for Raven’s spacewalk. It made me happy to see her smile again, but of course it was only a hallucination. She was having a seizure and it broke my heart. When is Raven going to get a break??? When is she not going to be in pain anymore? Well, this episode answered that question and the answer is never. When they used the EMP to get ALIE out of her head it gave her some serious brain damage. I loved the analogy she gave about how what happened to her is like when you turn off something, like a computer, the wrong way instead of shutting it down properly. So in Raven’s case ALIE was not taken out of her head completely and there’s still some of her left in there. That’s why she’s super smart. Well, she figured out that Becca created nightblood in space and then she found a rocket in Becca’s lab! A rocket!! My theory since the S3 finale is that they’re going to go back into space somehow. I just don’t see how they can survive on the ground. Of course the rocket is not big enough for all of them. But creating nightblood up there might be the solution.

I am so worried about Raven. As Abby said, if she keeps pushing her brain it’s going to kill her. But we know Raven and there’s no way she’s slowing down or resting. That’s just not who she is. She’s the type of person who would sacrifice herself for the greater good. And I think that’s where her journey is heading. I have a feeling that she is going to die before the end of the season. And the thought of that breaks my heart. Raven is the unsung hero of the show. She has done so much but she never gets any credit for it. Poor Raven.

The EMP was used on Abby too and she’s starting to have hallucinations too. She imagined Clarke with lesions all over her face. Shit. Raven and Abby. No, they can’t die.

Ilian saved Octavia! He brought her back to Arkadia! What was he doing around that area though? Perhaps he was planning to attack Arkadia and it was just luck that he came across Octavia and got a free ride into Arkadia. Hmm. Clarke doesn’t know him of course and sees him as the hero who saved Octavia. Why did they leave him alone in the Ark?? That was just a disaster waiting to happen. This Grounder who they don’t know left alone in the Ark, free to do whatever he wants? Yeah, I knew he was gonna do something stupid. Clarke giving mouth to mouth to Octavia was something I never thought I’d see. I’m just so happy that Octavia is okay!! She managed to warn them about Azgeda coming. But the real threat was already inside the gates. Ilian. Lol, everyone just forgot about him.

Niylah is back! There’s definitely sexual tension between her and Clarke still. She’s a great character. I love how her and Octavia teamed up.

I loved the scene of Clarke, alone, waiting for King Roan and Azgeda to arrive. And they had snipers aiming their guns at Roan. But thankfully the old Roan we love was back and agreed to talk to Clarke. Bellamy realised that someone warned Arkadia and that it must have been Octavia and his face lit up and that made me so happy.

But Riley. Oh Riley. We were blessed with your presence 3 episodes ago and have really gotten to know you and how important you are. So why did you have to go and almost fuck everything up? I’m so disappointed Riley. Luckily his BFF Bellamy (seriously were they best friends on the Ark? That might explain things lol) was there to calm him down. I legit thought he was going to shoot Roan. That scene was intense!! Thank god for Bellamy! If he’d killed Roan all hell would have broken loose. What were you thinking Riley? I get that you were a slave and all and I feel for you, but killing Roan would have started another war. Just calm down Riley. He wasn’t even meant to be there. Haha I love how everyone kept saying that. I see now why Clarke didn’t put him on the list. He has serious anger issues.

Oh, and Monty was the other hero. He warned them that Riley was going after Roan. Monty and Roan were the heroes of this episode. And Ilian I guess, for saving Octavia, but then he went and fucked everything up but I’ll get to that. And Echo didn’t tell Roan what almost happened. Maybe I’m starting like her. Maybe she’s not so horrible after all.

Roan finally listened to Clarke and they made a deal. Yes! Skaikru and Azgeda will get 50 places each on the Ark. That’s a fair deal I guess. I get that Roan felt betrayed. I get it. Clarke has felt betrayed too. I’m glad they found peace. And he mentioned Lexa and that made my heart hurt because it reminded me that it’s almost been a year since she died.

Ilian, oh Ilian. I’ve liked him since he was first introduced. Maybe it’s because he’s super hot, but that’s beside the point. He’s a very interesting character. Well, he wants to destroy all the tech, which is basically the entire Ark. Grounders are so unconnected from technology that he can’t see the difference between ALIE/CoL and high tech equipment. And so he fucking blew up the Ark!!! Now they’re screwed. It is kind of sad because he didn’t know. He just wanted revenge on Skaikru and he had no idea that he’s now doomed them all. Why couldn’t Octavia have told him just as he was about to set the Ark on fire? Oh right, she almost died and could barely speak. Side note, I love how Niylah and Octavia teamed up!

I was in shock that they blew up the Ark. I could not believe it. This show is just so frustrating that nothing ever goes to plan. They’re basically screwed. But that’s why I love this show. It’s a tragedy.

Luckily Ilian saved Octavia and Niylah. Maybe he has some redeeming qualities? He’s saved Octavia twice now. Although it was his fault that she was in danger the second time. Bellamy was reunited with Octavia! And the best scene of the episode was Bellamy holding Octavia while Clarke held her hand as they looked up at the Ark burning. Awww!! That was truly a beautiful scene.

Roan and Echo don’t look happy. Clarke is in shock. I’m in shock. Everyone is in shock. Was anyone in the Ark when it exploded? I low key kind of hope Jaha was in there haha. They’re screwed. Now what? I guess Nightblood is their only hope now. Raven is going to be the hero. As I said before, I think she’s going to figure out how save everyone but at the sacrifice of herself. I don’t think I’m ready to see that.

That was just an insane, explosive episode. I did not expect that at all. And we’re not even half way through the season!! Shit. I love this show so much. It continues to blow my mind each and every episode. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this 2 week break. I blame Riley for having to wait 2 weeks. I blame him for everything to be honest.

#the 100 #the 100 season 4 #the tinder box #bellarke #t100recap

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samuelcrobinsononlinearchive · 6 years

Text

Zombie somthing

Grandad passed painlessly, sad, cold, but peacefully at last. He was wearing his blue thick jumper from m&s, odd socks. Left foot sporting polka dots, right foot styling plain red. I've never seen my brother cry before; even as a child he would have rather of gotten even than cry. Thomas had spent the last two weeks by grandads side, appeasing his every request however odd; like ice cream with a flake and pulling up floor boards for his hidden treasures. That he wished to be passed down to the family; only to find dust and pipes of course.

He lived in a two bed semi detached house on knole road, I like to think it has a post modern look about the place because well, it's old school. Rustic fire place, green carpet throughout, dated sofas with a hint of modern television, iPad and karaoke machine. Thomas has been clearing out all the junk the past three days, the house is a council owned building and they ever so kindly told us we had a week to move everything out. The door bright red with a strong feeling of nostalgia was half open when I arrived, walking in I called for

Thomas but nothing replied. This is strange because Thomas has the hearing of a bat, if you don't know bats are blind and can only see with their heightened sense of hearing. Boxes of China crashed as I walked through what used to be the living room, I felt a strange lump in my throat telling me that nothing was going to be okay. Grandad was our last living relative in England, this meant that me and Thomas were all alone in this little but large island. Oceans away from our mother and farther, Sarah and Brian.

When grandad first passed away I was so angry, my flesh was steaming I could feel a sense of imaginative strength raging from my body as if at any minute I was going to tare the room apart. Desk legs flying into Windows and my office manager Debra laughing because she "always knew I was a crazy". I could hear something up stairs, a strange sort of clanking. The kind you hear at night when all the lights are out, when you can't sleep

Because all you can think about is that noise. The one you blame on the four year old

Fridge. I decided to go investigate, with every step a felt an ever looming sense of doubt that maybe I was just in the wrong house. All of grandads furniture was missing from the

Living room. The stairs that were once covered in photo frames now bare walls, only yellow wall paper that clashed with the green dated carpet. Finally I heard Thomas shout! A great yell of pain. “Thomas are you okay”

“Yeah sorry sis, I'm in the loft” he half shouted At me

“I'll be down in a minute, just want to get this tree”

The tree fell down. Not down the loft hatch but down through the roof.

“Oh Thomas, that pissy girl at the council is not going to be happy about this!”

“We can just put a rug over it”

“Yeah. A rug on the ceiling makes perfect sense”

Thomas had his moments of questionable sanity like when we were little; he was eight I was ten, he didn't speak for an entire month. He never told us why, or how it was even possible. I always assumed it was a bet with one of his friends, although he never really had many friends. Only one that I could remember, George. They were the same person, they laughed at the same things, ate the same things, liked the same games. Never apart from each other as if they had their own little world.

I brought dinner Thomas!

Dinner was two falafel salads and two ice cold diet cokes, Thomas is notoriously known for being a calorie counter. He never ate pizza unless it was low fat cheese and wheat free, his favourite foods were rice and salads. I on the other hand liked large full fat pizzas and those cheese and pineapple squares you get at low budget wedding party's. The Air seemed still as we both avoided the conversation that was grandad. I asked him how his new job was going at the garden centre warehouse. He said it was fine. The Conversation was almost as dry as the air, Thomas got up to turn on the light. Typical English weather meant that by five o’clock the sun was already retiring from the sky.

“I don't believe this”

What?

“They've only gone and shut off the power to his house”

Really? You spoke to the power company already?

“Nope!”

Well someone must have, I bet it was that pissy bitch from the council!

“I don't think she's actually out to get you Mia”

Prove it.

Maybe it's just the bulb?

Thomas moved around using every appliance or electrical switch he could find. Flicking up and down, on to off. Turns out it wasn't the bulb.

Maybe we should just head home, we can't do much in the dark.

“I guess let me just grab my bag”

Thomas hates leaving things half done, he would

Normally work till late at grandads.

Just as we stood up in total darkness something odd happened. A sudden wave of police sirens bleared through the streets. You know at night when you're trying to sleep and you hear those blue light sounds in the distance. You never really pay much attention because it's normal in the city. This wasn't like that, it was the sound of tens maybe hundreds of car sirens. No screaming like you would imagine, no sight of the lights just the noise. Above at least three helicopters circling around, making the house shake. This sudden disruption puts a little bit of fear even maybe a lot in my mind.

What is that?

“I have no idea Mia, it's dark”

It was only then that I realised everything was dark, not just this room, nit just this house but the entire street. Knole road was plunged into darkness.

What do we do Tom?

“Let's just go upstairs in case it's not safe out”

Thomas has always been a total wimp.

No Tom I'm going outside.

Grandad’s door sticks, you have to hold onto the little latch and pull hard in the right place or it will appear locked. As I rushed outside Tom following I looked down the hill towards London, not one person in the street, no cars or any of grandad’s neighbours.

As we started to walk down the hill towards the sirens that grew louder I noticed how the moon was bright. We take it for granted, it's so beautiful and big. It felt closer than ever before, somewhat comforting. Just as we got to the end of the road and London was out of sight the sky light up with flames. An explosion. A big one. It made this strange whipping sound like the earth had been struck by God. Flames filled the sky.

Thomas screamed at me, dragging me away towards grandads, we broke into a run all the way up hill.

“What was that?”

“How can that happen Mia?”

“Was that central London?”

“What do we do?”

I don't know Tom! We got to the gate just as the biggest blast of wind, dust, air came at us. So powerful it moved cars inches forward, the street was filled with noise now. Car sirens, house alarms, breaking windows. Still no people.

“the Loft”

Thomas ran through the door and started to climb the stairs, it's dark. So dark, I had my feel my way up the stairs in such a panic I slid down two steps with a thud. I swear even in that moment of fear I heard Thomas laugh. Thomas starting to climb the ladder, looking around I could barely breath. So many strange thoughts running through my head, why is this happening? What is that smell? Where is everyone? Stupid answers to my own questions ran around in circles in my head. I gripped onto the ladder as I climbed up I could see a light of some kind. Through the landing into grandad’s room coming from the window, it was like a phone light, maybe a camera. I pulled the ladder up with a large amount of effort and no skill, it was hit in the loft. I could feel sweat dripping down my head and hitting my arms, I'm so out of shape. I used to run everyday after work, head phones in, tacky running clothes the whole lot. Now most days after work I just sit around waiting for something to happen, I guess in some way now it has.

Do you have a light?

“Nope, I think my phones over by the rug.”

“Be careful though, it's covering the hole”

Thomas it's dead, literally nothing.

“Sorry! I was listening to maroon five”

“where's your phone?”

It's in the car, doesn't grandad have his fishing stuff up here?

“In the boxes by the wall”

Found it.

I don't know if it was the events of yesterday or the fact we was stuffed into a cluttered hot loft but my watch told me that me and Thomas had slept until eleven the next morning. My body ached from the lack of boarded space and my skin felt dry. I could taste well what Thomas described as history, I called it dust. We decided that the best thing to do was to keep calm and quite, the plan was to open the hatch, grab some food and water from the kitchen, sneak back up to the loft for a plan of action.

Ready Thomas?

“Sure, should we you know?”

He pointed to the pile of gold clubs.

I guess if you think that's a good idea?

“It couldn't hurt right?”

We let the hatch drop to an open, it hit the wall and echoed throughout grandad’s half empty half boxed up house.

Thomas! It's dark.

"That’s not possible, is it?"

The blast may have caused clouds to form, or maybe it’s raining

"Don’t you think sleeping in the loft we would hear if it was raining?"

We climbed down the ladder and walked towards grandad’s bedroom window, his room hadn't been touched since he died of heart disease last Monday. The room was stuffy and the air felt almost electric, like a storm was passing above our heads. Grandad’s bed still dressed in the same floral patterns, four old pillows stacked up in the middle where he used to sleep. The same yellow wall design from the stairs, dark brown bulky wardrobes in the corner of the room. Why does everyone over forty have those? The floor covered in his belongings that fell from the blast, or maybe the helicopters, the window had dusty netting draped along it. The street looks dark, we stood looking for what felt like an hour. My heart pounding in my chest with every beat anticipating something, anything. I can’t take this anymore Thomas, let's just go down stairs and get something to eat.

“No wait Mia, there over there”

There was that light again, something was flickering in the garden of the house opposite. I had no idea what it was, who it was. Should I be scared or was this all just in our heads, I mean sure we haven’t seen anyone in a while but really they could just have been doing the same as us. It could be a candle, someone’s keeping their house light up with candles. Probably those fancy smelling ones, the elderly love those candles right?

Thomas finally bulked up enough courage to follow me out the door, grandad’s camping light in hand we treaded slowly as if the ground below us could collapse at any second. Edging slowing across the road looking in every direction for someone, something. I couldn’t help but think about how funny this must all look to the people inside that house, two strangers tip toes across the road as if they were scared of the dark. The truth is I think Thomas is a little, it’s understandable the deafening silence of the street and frightening darkness of it all. The house looked the same as every house on knole road, except this one had an expensive looking car in the drive. A jaguar maybe, what an earth was a car like that doing in this town. Maybe he works in the city?

As I knocked on the recently painted blue door it fell open, I wasn’t exactly knocking hard. After all the smallest bang echoed down the road, probably all the way to London. Should we go in?

“No! It might be trap by the terrorists”

Don’t be stupid Thomas, what would terrorists be doing here setting small traps for two locals?

“Well aliens then, trying to collect us to breed robot humans!”

Any other theories you would like to throw out there?

“Okay well it’s just plain rude to walk in on someone’s house isn’t it?”

I guess, if they’re home.

We both looked back at the half opened door, I realised then that we’ve been here for what felt like ten minutes and not one sound came from that house. I decided to be bold and push the door wide open and call out, Hello! Anyone home? We’ve been over the road since yesterday, I was just wondering if you knew what was going on? Hello! Anyone? Please!

Tears slowly crawled down my face, my heart rate finally slowed down.

“Mia. Nobody is home”

Just then the largest dog known to man came running down the stairs, his bark so loud it cut through me. Around his neck a star shaped light that flashed when he moved, it was for night time walking I suppose. The dog barked and barked as if to tell us to leave, its teeth widely on show as a warning. Thomas began to attempt to calm the dog, walking cautiously towards it. Each step he would praise the dog, calling it laisse as if by naming the dog it would be less vicious. “Calm down baby” “We won’t hurt you” “you’re just hungry aren’t you?” The dog stopped barking, its tail went down and it began to whine. Thomas grabbed his collar but the dog didn’t seem to be phased by him, the dog was focusing on something else. Something behind me. “He’s called Toby”

The dog ran towards me, leaping in the air and pushing me to the floor. He ran off down the road towards London his barking growing louder and more intense every time. “Are you okay?” “That was crazy!”

I think so.

As I leant up and looked towards the road where the dog had been staring, nothing. what did he see? Am I going crazy? This is why I like cats. I couldn’t see much Thomas had the camping light tight in his hands, I could still hear the dogs bark echoing from down the darkened road. He sounded like he had stopped running, focusing his bark on what he had seen behind me. Maybe his owner? Maybe his owner was so scared of us they ran away! That's logical right? Whatever it was I'm just glad it's gone. The dog let out a horrendously twisted cry, it went on for longer than I thought possible. Thomas and I knew exactly what it meant. He grabbed me off of the floor and we slammed the stranger’s door behind us. The glass pain in the door shook, “was that too loud?” He winced at me. In that moment I could truly see fear in Thomas, his eyes so dilated and bold. His hair sweaty and pushed back, lips pursed together as if he was forcing himself not to scream. Looking at him made me want to cry, my body felt like I was sinking into the ground. My heart started to race again, the never ending thumping against my chest, my eyes so strained from the lack of light made them sting.

I grabbed the suit case, it was lighter than expected. This must hold some clues as to what’s going on or where the people from this house were going, we walked through the living room towards the kitchen. It was a modern house with lots of gadgets that are now rendered useless without power, the kitchen has a working fridge although it continuously beeped to remind humans that it’s back up won’t last forever. We grabbed some cheese, bread and bottled water. Thomas searched through the draws and found more batteries, a torch and some birthday candles.

“Do we risk going over the road again?”

I don’t know, let’s just check upstairs out and eat some food.

We walked back through the extravagate living room, up the wooden stairs and into the bathroom. I figured it would have the best lock in the house. The morning has turned into the afternoon and still the sky looked the same through the frosted windows. Thomas went through the bathroom cabinet as I broke off chunks of cold cheese and scoffed them down, I’m so hungry. I missed my friend Jane, she works with me at the stupid office. It’s really un-meaningful work but Jane makes it fun, she sends me rude jokes and chucks the odd stationary item at me when she thinks nobody is watching. I especially missed my cat, it sounds sad I know but he is so cuddly and always so playful.

The afternoon turned into night without any new noises or lights, the suitcase was a bust, just clothes. Swimming costumes and cardigans. The normal getaway case for any girl taking a trip away. The only useful item was some dry shampoo, Thomas insisted I left some money for the food in case we later had to pay the consequences of entering their home. I wrote a note:

Dear sir/madam

Me and my brother ate some of your nice cheese, I think it was Bree but I am uneducated in the cheese area. It was very nice and I have left you some money. I hope you’re not too mad, your door was open and your dog attacked me. He seemed very upset about something. Perhaps next time you go out you should lock your door and take the dog.

Thanks you for the food

Concerned citizen, Mia.

I decided we should run back to grandads, gather all the food he had left and climb back into the loft. As we left the house it felt colder than before, the moon finally decided to show its face, as a conscience the street looked a lot less horrifying. Maybe this was all just in our heads after all? I locked grandad’s door and even stuck a couple of boxes in front of them, using the new torches Thomas found we split up. I gathered all the food, utensils, and batteries. Thomas grabbed bedding, jumpers then filled the bath with water. He saw on television once that in the event of an emergency it’s important to fill everything you have with water before its shut off. We took Grandads can opener with the intensions of unpacking all his fishing gear, I knew he had a little gas cooker. Whilst I set up some questionable beds Thomas searched through Grandads boxes, we shut off all of the torches but one. The room felt a lot smaller now and the air was cold, almost like frost was growing over the roof tiles above, the air felt thin as well as thick. A strange wetness about everything you touch, Like water was seeping out of my skin.

Thomas found a wind up radio, he turned the little crank slowing as if it was a delicate job. All our questions are finally going to be answered, he flicked the switch on then begun to scroll through frequency's, nothing came out but black and white fuzz. Scrolling past stations than fell silent, large companies who even in the worst situations I've known continue to broadcast. I felt anticipation for something, anything. Anxiety would have been a better word. How can there be nothing Thomas? Where do we even go from here

"let's just keep listening, maybe the aerial is broken?"

It's entirely plausible that it is just a cheap radio, it was only little; the size of a torch and a bold green colour. We left it on a silent station. The local London station that normally broadcasts bad music and lot's of traffic updates. I slipped under the covers turned off the light, silently waiting, always waiting for something. The radio begun to fade out slowly, I guessed it was running out of power. Thomas are you awake? How can he sleep like this, with everyone gone. It doesn't add up, no bodies, no warning. Everything seemed normal yesterday morning, life was just standard. I went to work, had my performance review. Graded a strong member of the team, achieved bonus for the month, finally sorted through my emails. I even ordered a new microwave, dam. I guess that's not coming now, with nobody to deliver it, oh and no power to use it. I wasn't looking forward to going to grandad's house, I mean it is depressing. Packing up someone's entire life in boxed, chucking out all the things he deemed worthy to keep but we don't. I drove straight here after work, only stopping off to get our dinner. It wasn't as busy as it usually is but I figured it's Friday. My stomach was growling, my eyes still so sore. I don't know if I can handle this anymore, part of me thinks It's all so stupid. That we should just drive into central and find someone.

The loft hatch began to shake, only slightly but enough for me to sit up. Thomas was gone, I called out for him but my voice had been taken away from me. Normally something like that would strike up an unimaginable amount of fear and panic in me, for some reason I felt still and calm. I was scared sure, just not uncontrollably scared. I looked around as much as I could, the room still dark, the camping light and torches were gone. Maybe with Thomas? The skylight window offered a limited light from the bright moon, something was scraping at the hatch. Like a dog but bigger, how can it even reach the hatch without the ladder. I crawled closer, trying to peak through the tiny gaps now appearing were the hatch meets the wooden floor. The scraping turned into a fit of rage, something was now smashing into the wood, tearing away chunks. I finally screamed, so loud. Everything in my body went numb, my voice not breaking from the scream. I flung my body under Grandad's bedding, like a child hiding from a storm. Catching my breath under the covers, something climbed into the loft with me. I'm not alone anymore, claw sounds scratched against the floor as it came towards me. I have nowhere to go, nothing to protect myself with. It's breathing heavy like a dog's, it's heat projecting towards me. I felt a weighted mass climb up onto my legs, crushing them slightly. I tried to pull them out from under, I'm too weak. It's now laying on me, I pulled back the covers. It wasn't lying on me, it was standing over me with four chunky legs and jet black eyes. Four bony arms, one looked rotten. It's face almost entirely covered in thick mould, maybe even moss. Each arm has a hand, four fingers and one thumb. Like a human but with long finger nails covered in black dirt. It's body looked skinny and pale in the moon light, What are you? It didn't make a sound, it just raised one of it's arms and impaled me with it's nails.

"Mia! Wake up!" Thomas awoke me from the worst dream that I've ever had.

"Mia seriously, listen!"

Gasping for air, soaked in sweat. I tried to calm myself and listen. The radio. It was playing music, it was a classical song. The one from the theme park advert, it was both exciting and menacing. I started to laugh, for the first time me and Thomas goofed around a little. Dancing around the loft, trying not to hit our heads on the low beams. The song went on for what felt like the end of time, playing with out emotions.

"Mia did the song just-"

It's on a loop! Why would someone do this?

"at least it's something though, someone must be out there"

We aren't alone anymore.

I felt myself becoming tearful, my heart sped up again. The pounding of eternity, just when things start to feel better something comes along and reminds me that my own worst nightmare is me. I've suffered from anxiety attacks my entire life, from silly things like calling the bank to driving alone. I've always pretended I'm someone else, like an actor playing the role of a confident young lady. I don't want to be that girl anymore, I want to take risks in life, get promotions, put myself out there. My watch had stopped but I think it was about six in the morning, I told Thomas about my dream. All he said was that grandad doesn't have a window in his loft, I couldn't help but think he was hiding something from me. The day felt as dark as my thoughts, today we have to leave. I cannot spend another hour in this loft, cramped up to my darling brother.

We opened the hatch for the last time, it made it's normal fud against the wall. Letting down the chunky metal ladder; I through down the radio and some of grandads fishing gear, I figured the camping fire and tools might come in useful. We climbed down the ladder, still dark. Where has the sun gone, this doesn't make sense? The boxes at the front door had been knocked over maybe by someone trying to get in, I couldn't careless at this moment in time. Looking for my bag in the dark living room. Must find my car keys."That's strange Mia, the boxes have been pushed over" "Why didn't we hear-" Thomas I really don't have the energy to care right now.

I know I'm being rude, this is just getting all too much. Where are my stupid keys, I'm sure as hell not walking back to central. I through boxes of china around, the poor light made it almost impossible to find my car keys. Breaking plates and angry slurs from my mouth filled the room. "try to keep it down sis" NO! I've had enough. The door creaked open from a strange gust of wind, the cold air gave me a deep chill running up my spine. Why is the door open? "I told you the boxes were pushed over" We both stared at each other for a while, the door now wide open.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I can see you're a little busy" A figure had appeared in the doorway, tall shadowy figure. He spoke with an athorative tone, almost like he would be a police man, or maybe a security guard at the national art gallery. I picked up a plate, I know it seems like a pathetic weapon of choice but there wasn't anything else around. Thomas shone his torch light at his face. "I live just down the road, well I am unsure but I think I've been asleep for almost three days now" He looked about twenty seven I think, I'm not very good at guessing ages. He was wearing a white shirt with a black skinny tie, black skinny jeans and brown brogues. Clean shaven with short dark hair and bright hazel eyes, he was a cliché beautiful person.

"you're the first person we've seen for days, where do you live?" Thomas shouted at him.

"listen guys, what's going on, I haven't been able to use my phone and the powers out"

What's your name?

"I'm Peter night" he said looking around the room

What are you looking for Peter night?

"I thought I saw something, that's why I'm here." He spoke a little softer than before.

Saw what?

"It doesn't matter, are you guys going somewhere?" He asked

Thomas shouted again, and before I knew it this stranger was coming with us. We gave up on my keys and decided to take Peter's truck. The air felt a lot warmer now, I started to sweat a little, drips of salty tasting liquid fell from my forehead. I don't know why but this made me even more anxious, maybe it was because Peter although strange, was probably the most attractive man I've ever laid my eyes on. His skin looked soft and tanned, a smile so perfect it could light up an entire street. Wait, that's not his smile. Guys! The street! It's....glowing! Peter ran out first, he began to shout "NO, JESUS NO, MY HOUSE, PLEASE NO" I pushed past Thomas who was standing silently with his mouth open, Peter's house was on fire. The flames leaped well above the height of the house, dancing in the sky like fireworks. Black smoke escaped the house gracefully turning white as it reached the nights sky, Peter's cries for help faded out of focus, all I could concentrate on was the sinister sound of the crackling house. It consumed me, the fire was so beautiful, like somehow it was clenseing my soul of all anxieties, all it's deepest fears. Reaching depths of my mind that I never knew existed before, something in me wanted to change. Let go of it all, become the girl that other people are scared of, the type of girl to walk down dark alleys alone at night.

Thomas grabbed my arm pulling tearing me away from the only sense of paradise I will ever feel, he pulled me towards Grandads house. "Mia just listen to me, where is your car? Where is peters truck?" The street is empty, not even that Jager we saw is here anymore. The sky seemed lighter now, like the sun was finally returning to us. "Mia, what are we going to do?" Thomas sounded hysterical. We will have to walk Thomas, Peter let's go. I'm not staying here any longer than we have to. "I can't just let my house burn Mia Peter sounded angry, like somehow this was my fault. What are you going to do call the fire brigade? I know I shouldn't have said it but it just slipped out of my mouth. I cringed at myself waiting for his reply. "Fine, but we go to the train station" he said with a monotone voice. "Why, there wont be anyo-" Peter cut off Thomas and explained that although he didn't expect the train to be running it was a more direct route to central. He planned to leave us when we got to the waterloo to go look for his grandparents, he spoke like nothing mattered anymore. What was in his house that meant so much to him?

We started to walk up the hill away from central London, no smoke above central since the first day of the explosions. This must have meant that either someone put out any fires or that the explosion was controlled in some way. I walked infront of Tom and Peter pretending that I was content on being alone, I could hear them talking about Peter's job. From what I could make out he was a glorified web designer, making banking applications for mobile phones and tablets. He earned enough to buy a house out right in edges of London, drove a large truck and played lot's of video games. Thomas seemed to like Peter but I couldn't help thinking they were hiding something, they spoke softly at times so that I couldn't hear. I know paranoia this isn't paranoia. Being paranoid is when you think someone is following you, or checking your food isn't poisoned. I heard my name a couple of times. Did you say my name? "erm yeah, just slow down Mia. We don't want to lose you!" Thomas acted as if everything was normal, but I knew it wasn't. The street was cold, dark and somehow wet although haven't seen rain since it all started. That's rare for England, The houses looked normal; as if nothing had happened. I felt like knocking on each door asking for some help, maybe people where just hiding. I mean Peter was home right?

We reached the top of the hill, Thomas and Peter standing next to me we looked down on Crayford. It's a small down connecting to Kent and London, there was nobody around. Only a few cars scattered around but bursting with flames, the air smelt of smoke and strangely petrichor. It was exactly twelve twenty when we reached the sports outlet, Thomas thought that we could all do with some better clothing for the long walk we had ahead of us. We were ignorant to approach the building so quickly without calculating the best vantage points. The doors were suppose to be automatic however without power they were midway closed, I could squeeze through but I honestly didn't want to. Peter and Thomas pushed and pulled at the sliding door, trying to force them open. I found a large rock and just through it at the glass doors. They shattered in front of us, Thomas yelling at me and peter rushing us inside as if we were not alone. I don't know why I did it, I just did. Something maybe the fact it was getting all too tedious caused me to smash the doors. I'm growing ever tired of not having answers, I've had no food or sleep for what feels like weeks.

The store was giant and intimidating, like a somehow it felt like it was better than me. I know that sounds stupid there was just something about that place that didn't feel right. Peter stormed off in a tantrum towards the shoes near the front, trying on ridulosly lavish styles. Throwing the ones that didn't fit him on the floor, Thomas yelled towards him "Try to not trash the place Petey" Petey, what they're friends now. "Hey, I need a new wardrobe, mine went up in flames" he laughed at himself. Thomas I'm going to look at the girls clothes, I walked off down the middle of the store, just a little torch we found at the neighbours in hand. The store didn't have iles it was more of a large jumble sale, racks of reduced hideous clothing. Track suits and trainers aren't really my style but who cares, Peters a dick and Thomas is my brother. Nobody to impress anymore, I found a beige blouse and some denim dungaree's. A large baggy jumper and some high-top black boots, I stuffed them into a backpack then headed towards the changing room.

The changing room was plastered in pretty people posters, young teenagers with blonde hair and perfect bodies surfing the great waves of some unknown sea. Red velvet curtains covering the little sections that people change in, walking slowing down to the end one so that Peter couldn't see me I heard something. Crying, someone or something was crying. I hoped to god that it wasn't Thomas, the lobby smelt of new clothes and the floor was wet. I took half steps towards the crying, each footstep squelching on the damp floor. I called out a couple of times, "Are you okay Thomas?" My torch gave off a low orange light, only circling on what you focused it on; I could see coat hangers, baskets full of clothes as if people had dropped them and ran. The crying stopped, I could only assume Thomas had become embarrassed. I grabbed the curtain and pulled it back slowly, it was soft but cheap. The type you would find at a school, my socks felt damp from all the water. I didn't scream nor run, I just froze staring at her. She was so white in the face, her body covered in blood, similar to the red velvet curtains. Her eyes had been ripped from her skull, teeth scattered on the floor. I imagined they would crunch under my weight, something had ripped her to pieces. Chunks of flesh everywhere, like she has been put into a blender without the lid on. Dried blood spatters across the white walls of the cubicle, an arm missing. Bones showing from every part of her body, was she eaten? I didn't do anything. I just let go of the curtain and walked back into the shop. So much to think over, so much to contemplate, nothing made sense. Why was she dead, her body torn apart and hung up for someone to see. Was she left for me?

“Nice jumper” Thomas mocked me. They found me laying behind the till counter, I could hear them calling my name. I just wasn't in the mood to respond, the store was huge. The front was covered mainly In glass with tall sale posters in every window pane, manikins styling sporting outfits, rails made the place look untidy and claustrophobic. The word sale splatter on every wall, rail, window even clothing items. The longer I looked at the word the more my brain played tricks on me. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. It was everywhere one moment and gone the next. I knew that seeing that girl would mess with me, I just didn't know how. I felt so angry, it was building inside me. I could feel myself pushing back the rage packing it tightly inside my stomach almost making me nauseous. I got myself in such a state I couldn't decided if I was holding back anger or actual vomit, actually. It's vomit. My mouth jolted open and dark bile fell all over Peter. "What the hell Mia!" He wasn't happy. He marched away cursing my name, calling me a stupid girl. A pile of thick dark liquid laying on the floor infront of me, I've never seen sick like this before. Thomas patted me on the back whilst getting up to chase after him, I could hear Thomas trying to calm Peter down. He's so rude, both of them.

Peter

"Look, I know she's your sister but-"

"Yeah she is, so just leave it alone" Thomas cut me off

We sat on the floor outside the changing rooms, I kept playing with the laces on my shoes whilst Thomas picked up a barrel of golf balls he knocked by accident.

"Listen your sister isnt right, you know that right" the words just slipped out of my mouth.

"She's my sister Peter" He was pissed at me.

"Well there is something...."

"Go on buddy?"

I hate it when people do this, it's like why the pause, or when people say I know something I cant tell you.

"She said she had a dream, where something was scratching at the loft door trying to get in and-"

"Why was you sleeping in the loft!" I couldn't help myself but ask.

"and it impaled her with something, well I didn't think anything of it at the time"

Thomas paused for a while

"But well, when we left the loft there was these claw like marks on the top of the hatch" He looked scared.

"It was like something was trying to get out, not in" He started to laugh nervously.

"It's stupid right"

I just smiled at him, I mean something isn't right with that girl but I highly dought she's a young wolf. I chucked a golf ball at him and our eyes met, he looked sad. It's understandable, he's got a freak for a sister and the worlds gone to shit. Well presumably gone to shit, I'm still holding out for a decent explanation.

We decided to check out the staff room, maybe there was food or a vending machine. Mia was laying on the floor next her gross sick, probably feeling sorry for herself. "Listen Mia, I over reacted.....I'm sorry" I pulled a dopey smile at her.

"Look Peter, pull that shit again and you're on your own" She had a nasty face on her, god I hope she slips in her sick. Tom jumped over the till counter and knocked on the staff room door. "Hello, anyone in there?" He shouted with a geeky look on his face. Mia pushed past him and tried to open the door, it was locked. A silver keypad with numbers and letters. "Now what boys?" I started to type in random sequences like the classic 0000, of course nothing happened. Mia was looking through the draws on the counter, she was chucking things around and Thomas was picking them up. The door has a tall sheet on safety glass in it, althought it was so dark inside I could only just make out a table. Something was laying on the floor next to it. I asked Tom is I could borrow his torched and started to look around the room leaning my head against the window pane, a table sat in the center of the room with five brightly coloured chairs tuc

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

Text

Claim me chapter 17

“Why the hell are you so fucking obstinate? Are you afraid to learn the truth about him? Or are you afraid I’ll learn the truth about what you do with him?”

He’s spewing words at me, clearly as pissed off as I am. Then, without warning, he grabs my arm and tugs it toward him. He jabs a finger hard on the bruise around my wrist. I jerk my arm back, blushing, and undoubtedly erasing any possible question in Ollie’s mind as to the cause of those marks.

“You’re being an idiot,” he says. He reaches out and tugs a lock of my hair, then looks pointedly toward my thighs. “How long will it be before Stark does something else that makes you take a knife to yourself?”

I don’t even realize I’ve moved until I feel the sting of my palm intersecting his cheek. “Get the hell out of my house,” I say.

He stands perfectly still, his mouth hanging open, his breath coming hard. “Oh, shit,” he whispers. “Oh, shit, oh, shit. Selena, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” I snap. “You’d be thrilled if Justin and I broke up. I don’t know why you dislike him so much—”

“And I don’t know why you’re so blind.”

“I’m not,” I say. “I see him perfectly clearly.”

“You see what he wants you to see. But you forget where I work. You forget that my boss is his attorney. There is shit raining down on Stark,” Ollie says, “and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He sighs. “I warned you, didn’t I? You’re in the spotlight now, and that’s not where you want to be. It’s not where you should be.”

My blood feels as though it’s moving too fast through my body, and I feel a little sick to my stomach. “Just go.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll get my stuff and get out of here.” He returns to my room, then emerges with his briefcase. He marches for the door, then stops. “No, you know what? I get that things are bad between us now, and I’m sorry. But I can’t just let this slide. Do you even know where he is now?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “In London.”

“Why?”

“Business.”

“Yeah?” He digs in his briefcase for his iPad, then pulls up a page from Hello! “Here,” he says, shoving the tablet at me.

It’s a picture of Justin with his arm around a woman. Her head is down, she’s wearing sunglasses, and a hat shields most of her face. I don’t know who she is, but I can guess. Apparently Hello! can’t even do that, because the caption reads

Did Justin Ditch the Delicious Darling? Is it the end for Justin Stark and Texas Beauty Queen Selena Fairchild? Our sources say Stark looked quite cosy with this unidentified woman as they strolled the Hampstead Heath earlier today. Stark arrived in London without the woman whose portrait he paid a cool million dollars for. Buyer’s remorse, perhaps?

I hand the tablet back to him, feeling smug. “She’s a friend.”

“I thought he went on business.”

“He’s not allowed to see a friend while he’s doing business?”

There’s a loud bang on the wall Jamie and I share with Douglas, followed by a very loud, very satisfied groan.

Ollie and I meet each other’s eyes and, as if on cue, we both laugh.

For those few seconds, we are Ollie and Selena again. But the seconds pass all too quickly.

“I don’t want to screw us up,” Ollie finally says.

“You already have,” I say. “All you can do now is try to fix it.”

For a moment I think he’s going to snap something back at me. Then he nods. “Yeah. I guess so.” He glances toward the door. “Should probably fix things with my fiancée first. That’s all I do, lately. Piss people off and then try to patch it up.”

“Ollie …” Sadness envelops me as he leaves. I think about what Justin says—that Ollie is in love with me. But I don’t think it’s true. I think that he’s grieving. Through our lives, I’ve always been the more damaged, and Ollie has been my rock. But I’m healing, and I have found a new rock in Justin, and I think Ollie wonders how our lives will fit together.

It’s not a question that I can answer for him. Not now. Not when he attacks Justin every time we come together. But I hope there is an answer, because I don’t want to lose him. And I know that if I am forced to make a choice, I will go with my heart. I will go with Justin.

I realize that Edward’s probably halfway through The Count of Monte Cristo by now, and so I hurry to my bedroom and get my laptop and the files I need. I pause at the door, then return to my closet for my old Nikon, since the fabulous digital Leica Justin gave me is still in Malibu. And as much as I love the Leica, the Nikon was a gift from Ashley, and I refuse to give up using it entirely.

“Back to the apartment?” Edward asks as he opens the limo door for me.

I close my hand tight around the camera. “Actually,” I say, “there’s one more place I want to go.”

“How you holding up, Texas?”

“Okay, I guess.” We’re on Evelyn’s balcony, looking out over the beach. Blaine is out with friends, and Evelyn had been enthusiastic when I’d called from the limo to invite myself over.

I’ve only been here once—the night that Justin and I met in Malibu—but it feels like home. I attribute that more to the woman than the location. “When I’m inside and away from it all, I do great. But when I see a paper or am accosted by a reporter, I feel like I’m going to crumble. Honestly, I don’t know how celebrities do it.”

“They have the fame gene,” she says. “You don’t.”

“There’s no such thing as bad PR?” I say dryly.

“For some people, it’s a truism. Have you watched reality television?”

I have to laugh. I don’t watch it regularly, but I’ve caught enough episodes with Jamie to understand what she’s saying. Some people don’t mind being the train wreck that other folks watch. Me, I mind.

“Pretty soon you’ll be last week’s news. Until then, hold your head up and smile.”

I flash a brilliant pageant smile. “That’s one thing I know how to do.”

In front of us, the sun is beginning its descent toward the horizon. I take out the Nikon and snap shot after shot, hoping that when the prints are developed, I’ll have managed to capture even a fraction of that beauty.

“You’re going to show me the shots you took at the party, I hope,” Evelyn says. “The more snapshots there are of me, the better my odds of finding a picture that’s actually flattering.”

“Do not even try fishing for compliments with me,” I say, laughing. “You’re gorgeous and amazing and you know it.”

“It’s true,” she says, then taps out a cigarette and lights it. “I just hope Blaine keeps remembering it.”

“I think you’ve got him hooked.” Despite their age difference, they really do seem like the perfect couple. After the drama with Ollie, it’s nice to know that some of my friends have relationships that are actually stable.

I’d been spurred to come here after the bullshit with Ollie, but now that I’m here, I find I don’t want to talk about it. Instead, I’m enjoying just hanging and chatting. We’ve already covered the scintillating topics of male models, Botox, and the current summer blockbusters. The conversation was so scattered in fact, that I’d been surprised when she raised the specter of my personal tabloid hell.

“Blaine’s still mortified, of course,” she adds. “Thinks it’s his fault.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “I’m the one who accepted money to pose nude, and then I consented to be tied up. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“We didn’t have any idea how much Justin paid you,” Evelyn said, “but now that we do, I have to confess that I agree with Blaine. You sold yourself cheap.”

I laugh, remembering that Sylvia said the same thing. At times like this, when I’m with friends and people who don’t have shark’s blood running through their veins, I feel almost proud of what I did. I negotiated a deal. I got my start-up money. And what the hell is wrong with that?

“Aw, hell, Texas. I see it on your face. Now I’ve gone and got you thinking about it. We can’t have that. You want some wine?”

“Love some,” I say.

She disappears inside, then returns a moment later with a chilled bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses.

She sits at the wrought-iron table then indicates the chair opposite with the tip of her cigarette. “So tell me the rest of it,” she demands.

“The rest of it? The rest of what?”

“What’s going on in your life, Texas. Fired twice—excuse me, once was a layoff. Dating one heck of a fine catch if I do say so myself. Your roommate’s got a commercial in the works. Lot of life crammed into not very much time. You’ve certainly made quite the landing in our fair city.”

Put that way, I have to agree. “Despite the firings and the tabloid stuff that we’re just going to ignore, things are great. I’m going to take some time to get a couple more apps on the market.”

She points at me. “An art app for Blaine. I haven’t forgotten.”

I grin, not sure if she means it or not. “I’m ready when you are. But that’s my short-term plan. Long term is still in the development stages.”

“And Justin? You said he’s in London? On business?”

“Yeah, but I think he took some time to visit a friend. Sofia. I guess she’s in some sort of trouble.”

“That’s too bad,” Evelyn says. She props her hand on her fist and looks at me seriously. “He say what kind of trouble?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” she says. “What about Jamie? What’s she up to?”

I hesitate before answering, wondering about the shift in conversation. Does Evelyn know Sofia? Does she know what kind of trouble she’s in? It’s possible, I realize. Sofia is from his tennis past, and Evelyn was Justin’s agent when he was a young sports icon endorsing tennis shoes and God knows what else.

I think about asking, but hold my tongue. Evelyn has become a solid friend, and I don’t want to muddy the waters by using her as a conduit between me and Justin’s past.

“Jamie’s in heaven,” I say, focusing on the original question. “She’s really hit it off with the guy she’s doing this commercial with. Bryan Raine. You know him?”

“I do,” Evelyn says, and she doesn’t sound pleased. “I like your friend. Nice girl. A little green, but she’ll get there. Bryan Raine, though … That one’s a climber, and I’m not sure your friend is tough enough to deal with the shit he’ll eventually throw her way.”

My heart is sinking. “You’re serious?”

“Afraid so. He won’t be happy until he’s banging the next big thing. And while he’d prefer a female, I think he’ll fuck anything that moves if he thinks it’ll ease his climb to the top. Male, female, or small farm animal.” She looks at me hard. “Your friend got the skin to make it when he ditches her?”

I open my mouth to say that Jamie’s as tough as they come, but I can’t speak the words. They aren’t true. She’s got a tough veneer, but inside she’s soft and vulnerable.

“I hope you’re wrong,” I say.

“So do I, Texas. So do I.”

The nice thing about limos is that they have a driver. I take full advantage of that knowledge, and I arrive back at Justin’s apartment more than a little tipsy after downing half of Evelyn’s very excellent bottle of Chardonnay.

I am interested in nothing but sleep, and I make my way to the bed, hesitating only long enough to feel a pang of regret that I am in it alone.

I’ve dropped my phone on the bedside table, and I reach for it, then tap out a text: In your bed. Drunk. Wish you were here.

I have no idea what time it is in London, and have had too much wine to bother with the math to figure it out. So I’m not sure if Justin is even awake. But only a few seconds pass before I get his response. Wish I were, too. At airport. Coming home to you. Tell me you’re naked.

I smile and tap out a reply. Very. And wet. And wanting you. Hurry home. I have been Damienized, and I don’t think I can last long without you. [Damienized, v. To be needful of Justin, especially in the sense of fucking and dirty talk. See, e.g., Selena Fairchild.]

His answer is almost immediate. I like the new addition to your lexicon. And now I’ll be hard for all of a long flight home. Plane boarding. See you soon. Until then, imagine me, touching you.

I don’t know if he will get the text, but I send one final message. Yes, sir, I type. And then I hug my phone, and drift off to sleep.

When I wake, it’s because my phone is buzzing against my cheek. I roll over, confused, and realize that it’s already past noon, and that I’ve missed a call. I quickly check to see if it’s from Justin, but it’s only a voice mail from Evelyn telling me I forgot my camera. I curse silently and open my email, planning to send her a quick note telling her I’ll get it soon.

That’s when I see that there is an email from Justin waiting.

Selena, on a quick layover in Amsterdam. Arriving LAX five P.M. Do you mind if we go to a charity fashion show tonight? Starts at nine? Would much rather stay in with you, but Maynard’s firm sponsoring. Swears press access limited. They’ll get the boot if they even think about harassing you. Jamie invited, too. Let me know. Missing you …

I read the message twice, trying to decide why I’m smiling so broadly. It’s only as I start the third read that I realize—he’s asking me, not telling me. I take that knowledge and hold it close to my heart. Then I tap out my reply, though I know he won’t get it until he lands.

Of course, sir. But how you do tease, pretending to ask my consent when of course you know that I will do whatever you want, whenever and however.

I hope you’re spending your time in the plane thinking of interesting “howevers” …

P.S. I have the perfect dress at home. Pick me up at the condo at eight? Will check Jamie’s social calendar …

As it turns out, Raine has told Jamie that he’s having a night out with the boys, so she’s completely keen to be a third wheel with me and Justin.

I’m not entirely sure what to expect from a fashion show hosted by a law firm, but it turns out that Bender, Twain is just one of many sponsors for a function that is raising money for juvenile diabetes. The event is being held in a restaurant in Beverly Hills, but the place has been so transformed that it’s hard to believe that it has ever been anything other than a fashion venue. A long runway bisects a giant room, and that is surrounded by chairs. The perimeter is lined with tables providing research, raffles, and gift bags. Jamie and I both snag a bag and are pleased to find them filled with cosmetics, hair brushes, and even a darling tank top.

“This is great,” Jamie says to Justin. “Thanks for bringing me.”

“Happy to have you along,” he says. His mood has been light since he’s returned from London.

“So the trip went well?” I ask once Jamie skips off to do the circuit.

“It did,” he says.

“Sofia’s okay?”

“She’s settled,” he says. “For her, that’s about as good as it gets. And I heard from Charles. He’s been working with my attorneys in Germany, and with any luck, that problem is going to go away as well.”

“You mean they won’t indict?”

He cocks his head to look at me. “That’s my hope.”

“That would be great,” I say. “And even though I don’t have a clue about international business or what kind of regulations the Germans think you mucked up, you know you can talk to me about that kind of thing. I may not get it, but I promise I’ll be supportive.”

The expression on his face is surprisingly guarded. “Someday when I’m ready, I will.” He pulls me in for a quick, chaste kiss. “And yes, I believe that you would understand.”

A smile flickers on my lips. I’m pleased, but I can’t help but think that we’re talking about entirely different things.

I don’t have the chance to ask, though, because the show is starting. We take our seats and watch the models parade down the runway in skimpy, sexy outfits, with Justin whispering his opinion as to exactly which outfits he wants to see me in. Reporters and photographers are at the base of the runway, and I realize that Charles has made good on his promise—the press is leaving me and Justin alone. Some weight inside me lifts a little, and I lean back in my chair and enjoy the freedom of knowing that, at least for a moment, I am not a bug under a microscope.

When the show is over, the guests are encouraged to mingle and imbibe from one of the many cash bars while the crew sets up for the charity auction. I look around for Jamie, but she has already disappeared into the crowd, presumably to jump all over that imbibing thing.

Instead, I see Ollie, and I suck in a tight breath. He is talking with a woman who looks somewhat familiar, but I can’t place her. Justin hasn’t seen him yet, but I know the exact moment when Ollie’s glance finds us.

I’m not sure why I’m surprised that he’s here. After all, he works with Charles Maynard. The crowd shifts, and I see a pretty, dark-haired woman coming toward him with two drinks in her hands. Courtney. And then Ollie and Courtney and the other woman are all heading our way. I grab Justin’s hand and smile my Social Selena smile. It is the first time I’ve felt the need to be so armed against Ollie, but I know that I need both the mask and Justin’s strength, and that knowledge makes me sad.

“Selena, Justin, it’s good to see you here.”

“Ollie,” Justin says politely. He glances at the two women.

“Courtney,” I say, “it’s so good to see you again.” I give her a little hug, then formally introduce her to Justin.

“Great to meet you,” Courtney says, then turns her attention to me. “I’m planning a destination wedding shower, but I haven’t decided where yet.” She shifts toward Justin, including him as she speaks to me. “Tell me you two will come? And Jamie and Raine, too.”

Automatically, my eyes dart to Ollie’s, but his expression is too guarded to read.

“I’m looking forward to hearing all the details,” I say diplomatically. The truth is I’m not sure there is going to be a wedding, much less a shower. Courtney, however, doesn’t seem the least bit worried.

The other woman with Ollie is introduced as Susan Morris. I keep my polite smile plastered on, but inside, I’m frowning, trying to figure out why her name is familiar.

I’m about to ask, when Ollie continues. “Susan is directing the fashion show.”

“I got my training in pageants,” Susan says, “although it wasn’t formal training. More like an apprenticeship.”

“Susan Morris?” I say, finally clueing in. “Alicia Morris’s mother?” Susan Morris was almost as much of a stage mother as mine.

“I was hoping you’d remember me,” she says. “Ollie said that Justin Stark was here with his girlfriend, and I just had to see you.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Social Selena says. The real me isn’t at all interested in this relic from my past. I can tell that Justin sees the real Selena, because he squeezes my hand in support.

“Your mother and I have stayed close. In fact, since I moved to Park Cities, we lunch together at least once a week,” she adds, referring to the affluent Dallas neighborhood where I grew up. “I talked to her just this morning, as a matter of fact.” Her voice is strangely tight, and I want nothing more than to get away from this woman who reminds me too much of my mother.

“How nice,” I say. I flash my wide pageant smile. “I should really go check on my friend Jamie. It was lovely talking to you.”

She takes a step sideways and blocks my departure. “Your mother is so mortified she can’t even hold her head up in public. And you haven’t been any help. You haven’t returned her calls or her emails. It’s terribly ungrateful, Nichole.”

Ungrateful. What the fuck?

Justin steps closer to me. “I believe Selena has already said that she needs to go check on her friend.”

But Susan Morris is not taking the hint. She aims a finger at Justin. “And you! Elizabeth told me how you shipped her home just when Nichole needed her.”

My mouth falls open. Needed her? Needed her? All I’d needed was for her to be gone.

“And now you’ve dragged her into this … this … degrading lifestyle!” Susan Morris is speaking machine-gun fast, and with as much damage. “Posing nude. Erotic art. And accepting money like a common whore. It’s contemptible.” She literally spits the last word, and I see the tiny droplets of moisture fly from her mouth.

I can only gape at her, my Social Selena facade having shattered under this unexpected onslaught.

Justin is not so frozen. He takes a step forward, his expression like thunder. I think vaguely that he will hurt her, and that I should hold out a hand to stop him. I don’t. All I can think about is the nausea and tightness and clammy coldness that has settled over me.

“Get the hell out of here,” Justin says, his hands pressed firmly against his sides.

“I will not,” she counters. “You think you can buy anything? Even a girl like Nichole in your bed? I know your type, Justin Stark.”

“Do you?” He takes another step toward her, and she has the sense to look scared. “In that case I think you would listen when I tell you to get out. And for the record, Selena is a woman, not a girl. And the choice she made was her own.”

Her mouth drops open, but she doesn’t reply. Instead she turns back to me. “Your mother expected better things from you.”

I can do nothing but stand there. I’m frozen, my body chilled to the bone. And, goddammit, I’m starting to shake. Deep, trembling shudders that I cannot control, and that I do not want Susan Morris to see.

Throughout all of this, Ollie has stood stock-still, Courtney’s hand tight on his arm. But now he, too, takes a step forward. “Do what Mr. Stark says and get the hell out of here or I will have you fired from this pageant right here, right now.”

“I—” She shuts her mouth, gives each of us a hard look, then leaves.

I do not remember sliding into Justin’s embrace, but that is where I am, and it feels warm and safe, and my trembling starts to subside. I don’t want him to open his arms, because I don’t want to face the world. I want to be home with him. Back in the penthouse where ghosts from my past don’t pop up. Where I’m not accused of being a whore. Where my personal life isn’t gossiped about by people who don’t know me and know even less about the choices I’ve made.

“Are you okay?” Courtney asks.

“No,” I say. “I’m not.”

I see Ollie shoot Justin a vitriol-filled look. He may have sided with me against Susan Morris, but it’s clear that he’s still not on Team Justin.

“I’ll take you home,” Justin says.

I nod, then hesitate, then shake my head. “No. I want to stay.”

“You’re sure?”

I hesitate only a moment, then nod. “I just need to go to the bathroom. Then I want to find Jamie. We haven’t looked at all the booths yet.” I am proud of myself. I sound so steady even though I’m anything but.

Justin’s phone buzzes and he glances at the screen, then types out a quick response before sliding it back in his pocket.

“Not important?”

“Charles,” he says. “He’s at one of the cash bars and wants to have a quick talk. I told him I was with you, and business could wait until morning.”

“Can it?”

He looks right into my eyes. “Right now, the only thing I care about is you.” He takes my arm. “It looks like the ladies’ room is over there.”

While Justin waits, I go in—then immediately clutch the counter. I’ve been working so hard not to let Justin see my cracks. Susan Morris. My mother. The rumors of sex for money, of being a whore. It’s all tied up in my head like so much noise and I want to sort it out. I want Justin—but I know he blames himself, and if I can just gather myself a little. If I can just make one tiny inroad on keeping myself collected …

I look around for something sharp, but there is nothing. Only the granite counter, the mirror, and the ceramic soap dispenser.

I remember the apartment and the glass vase that Justin shattered. I close my eyes, feeling the imaginary shard in my hand. Glass cuts on all sides. It’s perfect. It’s like a tiny miracle biting into the palm of your hand.

Wildly, I open my eyes and look around for something with which to break the glass. I snatch the soap dispenser, stand back, and start to hurl it.

That is when I see my reflection. Oh, God. What am I doing?

My fingers go slack, and the dispenser crashes to the ground—and in the back of the room, from behind a closed stall door, I hear someone yelp.

I jump—I hadn’t realized anyone was in there—then immediately relax when I see it is Jamie. Her face is splotchy and her makeup is smeared, but I must look worse because she takes one glance at me, looks down at the ceramic shards on the floor, and says, “I’m finding Justin.”

“Jamie!” I call, trying to get her back, but it’s too late. She’s out the door, and only moments later, Justin is in the ladies’ room.

“I didn’t,” I say immediately. “I just dropped a soap dish. That’s all. Jamie overreacted.”

He is looking at me with such intensity that I am certain he can see the lie inside my head. “All right,” he says slowly. “Now tell me the rest of it.”

I sigh, then drop my gaze. I count to five, and then look back up to him, my composure restored. “I was going to,” I say. “But I talked myself out of it. And then, really, I dropped the dispenser. It’s slippery.”

“You talked yourself out of it.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I saw my reflection in the mirror. I was going to break it with that,” I say, nodding toward the gooey mess on the floor.

“You were going to break a mirror in a public restaurant instead of talking with me?”

I graze my teeth over my lower lip. I don’t answer.

“I see.”

“I didn’t want to make it worse for you. But I guess I did that, anyway.”

“But you’re okay now?” He is speaking very carefully.

“Yes. Just a momentary glitch. System completely reset now. It was just that woman. That horrible woman.”

“All right,” he finally says. He takes my hand; his is warm and reassuring. “Let’s go. We’ll let the janitors worry about the mess.”

I nod and follow him. Already I feel better, just knowing that Justin is at my side. In the restaurant, I search for Jamie, but I don’t find her anywhere. “I’m worried about Jamie,” I tell him. “She was a mess.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, she was just—oh, shit. Is that who I think it is?” I point into the crowd, and Justin’s low whisper of “Well, hell” tells me I’m right. Bryan Raine is at the event, too, and he’s arm in arm, lips to lips, with a svelte, sexy blonde.

“That’s Madeline Aimes,” Justin says.

I remember Evelyn’s words. “A movie star? On her way up?”

He gives me a quizzical look. “When did you start paying attention to Hollywood?”

“I don’t. Lucky guess.” I look around the room again, suddenly worried. “Now I really want to find Jamie.”

I find Ollie, but he hasn’t seen Jamie, either. Whatever detente we’d reached earlier when Susan Morris attacked me seems to have shattered, because he is quiet and distant and keeps shooting Justin angry glances. I, however, am too worried about Jamie to call him on it.

It takes another twenty minutes before we learn that Edward took Jamie home.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Edward says when we meet him in the parking area behind the restaurant. “She assured me that she’d cleared it with you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Justin says. “How was she?”

“I understand there was some trouble with a young man she’s been seeing. You might have to restock the limo’s supply of Scotch.”

Justin grimaces. “Shall we go check on her?” he asks.

I nod. It’s already after midnight, and now that Jamie’s gone AWOL, I’m ready to go home. I start to move toward the limo, but Ollie’s words hold me back. “Raine was just stringing her along.”

I turn back to him. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He jabs a finger toward Justin. “He’s doing the same thing to you.”

I grab Justin’s hand, as much because I want his touch as to keep him right here beside me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“He keeps you around, but it’s not real.” He holds up his hands and flexes his wrists. “It’s just kink and fun and when he’s tired he’ll toss you aside.”

“You little shit,” Justin says.

“I’m wrong? Really? You know damn well it’s just a game to you. That’s why you never tell her shit. That’s why you haven’t even told her that you’ve been indicted in Germany for murder.”

Murder!

I look from Ollie to Justin. Ollie looks smug. Justin looks confused.

“There’s no indictment,” Justin says.

For a moment, Ollie appears scared, then he rallies. “No, apparently they were just stalling. The indictment came in just a few minutes ago. You didn’t know?”

“Wait,” I say. My head is spinning and I’m having a hard time figuring out exactly what I’m feeling. Anger? Hurt? Fear? Confusion? They are all jostling for position inside me, and at that moment, it feels a bit as though my head is going to explode.

I think about those ceramic shards, and I wish to hell I’d pocketed one.

No. Just breathe. You can do this.

I take a deep breath and turn to Justin. “All this time I’ve been assuming that the German indictment is some business violation, and it was actually a murder investigation?”

His hesitation seems to last a lifetime, and throughout his silence, his eyes look only at me, as if he’s trying to find the answer to the question hidden deep inside me somewhere.

“Yes,” he says.

And there it is. The biggest secret of all, and one I gave him about nine billion opportunities to reveal. I think about the times I mentioned German regulations. About the times he let me go on believing that it was just a business thing. Just Stark International dealing with the kind of problem huge corporations deal with.

“I thought your company had broken some regulation about zoning codes or paid too little in taxes or something. This is—”

“Worse,” Justin says. “Much worse.”

I wait for him to say more. To explain. To lie. Something. Anything.

He stays silent.

I suck in air through my teeth, then press my fingers to my temples. I need to think. Mostly, I just need to be alone. “I’m going,” I say. “I need to check on Jamie.”

“All right,” Justin says, his voice a little too calm. “Edward and I will drop you at home.”

“I’ll get home on my own. Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you,” Ollie says.

“The hell you will,” I snap. With Justin, I’m lost in a maelstrom of anger and sadness and confusion and God knows what else. With Ollie, I’m just plain old pissed. “I’ll take a taxi.”

I turn once as I walk away, and my eyes find Justin’s. I hesitate, expecting him to call after me, but he doesn’t, and I fight the urge to hug myself to ward off a coming chill. Slowly, I turn my back to Justin and I continue toward the street. I’m hurt and I’m confused, but right now I just need to focus on one thing. I just need to get home.

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netmaddy-blog · 7 years

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Microsoft Surface pro and Macbook Pro

New Post has been published on https://netmaddy.com/microsoft-surface-pro-and-macbook-pro/

Microsoft Surface pro and Macbook Pro

Imperfect, Heavy, Light, Powerful, and Excellent.

Just shy of one year ago, I transitioned from a Macbook Pro and iPad combo to a Microsoft Surface Pro 128GB. In light of this week’s announcement of Surface Pro 3 and my acquisition of a Surface Pro 2, I think it’s time to reflect on what that experience was like. Like most folks, I was a little skeptical about the idea of combining a laptop and tablet into a single unit. Would it be too heavy? Would the performance be too low? Would the battery life be awful? And what about the new Windows 8 OS that’s been the subject of so much teeth-gnashing? I’ll try to answer all these questions and more as succinctly as possible. Hit the jump and let’s get into the question: what’s it like to live with Microsoft’s vision for computing in the future?

1. The Operating System, starring Windows 8/8.1:

Windows 8.1 Update 1 had a good head start with Windows 8, as I started using it during the first publicly available betas about 9 months before launch, dual booting on my Macbook Pro. That experience gave me plenty of time to figure out how to navigate the OS well before launch, so I didn’t have the struggle that a lot of people did. Of course, it probably helps that I just naturally enjoy exploring and discovering new things. The early Windows 8 experience did have its struggles, though. I’d become accustomed to the iPad and even to my Windows Phone 7 device, both of which had lots of apps available in their stores. Windows 8’s store was notoriously barren by comparison, and that led to some early frustration when trying to use Surface Pro as just a tablet. Too many apps and features were missing to make for a satisfying experience.

Nevertheless, the device’s ability to handle legacy Windows desktop apps with aplomb kept me satisfied enough to continue, and the app store dilemma became less important by the day. If there’s one thing Windows really needs to fix, though, is its way of presenting the desktop. The desktop is still wrapped in the trappings of an archaic system whose time has passed, and it’s time for Microsoft to update it to a more modern presentation that has fonts big enough to read on high DPI screens and large enough to operate with a finger.

With 8.1 and the new 8.1 Spring Update (really? We couldn’t just call it 8.2?), virtually all my complaints about Windows 8 evaporated. While some dislike the new aesthetic, I’ve personally found myself loving the flat colors, active tiles and removal of extraneous effects. My sincere hope is that as Windows evolves it gets even flatter and the metro aesthetic becomes more pervasive.

Suggestion: Use a Microsoft account, and use OneDrive! I can’t stress these enough. If you’re using Windows 8–and on a Surface Pro, you will be–you shouldn’t create an old-fashioned local account. Doing so cuts you off from some of Windows 8’s best features. Among these is the ability to have almost your entire PC configuration, right down to tile sizes, locations and apps installed, backed up to your OneDrive account in the event you either need to restore your PC or you sign into a different Windows 8.1 PC. Best, though, is that with OneDrive you get 7GB storage for free, which, while not enough to cover, say, your music and photos collection, is probably plenty to ensure your critical documents are all safely backed up within moments of you making any change. It’s easy to learn to save to your OneDrive folder, and once you’ve become accustomed to having that safety net you’ll wonder how you ever lived without it.

2. The Hardware: Build Quality, Heft, and Capability.

Surface Pro Docking Station

I used to lug around a 2010 Macbook Pro 13.3″, which weighed 4.5 pounds, and an iPad 1, which weighed 1.5 pounds for a total of 6 pounds. So when I say that the 2.5 pound total of the Surface Pro and Type Cover was a big weight off my back, I’m really not kidding. The sacrifice was that I had a smaller screen, but the gain was a far more powerful processor and far superior screen resolution and pixel density. The build quality is exceptional: there is literally zero flex to this device, its magnesium shell is hard and sturdy enough to withstand probably more abuse than you should feel comfortable making your PC go through. As a tablet, it’s half a pound heavier than that original iPad was, but as a laptop it has a huge advantage over anything Apple offers. But you probably wonder what I use my Surface Pro for?

Workload

I’ve spent most of the past year as a film school student at UCLA, which means that a lot of my workload involves editing and transcoding video, compositing after effects compositions, transferring footage across different media and so on. I use Adobe Premiere for most of these tasks, and my Surface Pro has handled them all with grace. I’ve had no problems editing and rendering 1080p video in real-time. And as you’d expect from a Windows machine with a full size USB port, working with external hard drives and optical drives is a breeze. Suffice to say, I also do the basics including working in Microsoft Office, writing in Final Draft, checking email, browsing the web, yada yada. Overall, I’ve had no complaints save one: early on, my first Surface Pro had some serious problems with the Marvell Avastar wifi chip and had to be exchanged, a problem that’s not entirely uncommon with this device. More on that later.

Webcams

Let’s be honest: the webcams on this device suck. They’re flat-out terrible, and there’s no getting around that fact. They’re fine for basic Skype video calls, but that’s pretty much it. If you really need to record video, use something else. Anything else.

Stylus

I frequently take notes in OneNote MX (that’s the metro version), especially lately. Like most students, I have tended over the past few years to type my notes, but recent studies show that students who take notes by hand tend to do better on tests. Well, I’m all for evidence based research, so I took this to heart, but I’m also lazy, which means I don’t want to type things after I’ve written them down. Enter Surface Pro’s stylus and voila: I can hand write my notes and have them in a digital format all at the same time. Hell yes. I find that the stylus, despite its cheap plastic feel, works well as a digital inking device. Some complain about the lack of a dock for the stylus, but honestly, I’ve no issues with that. I’ve been using it for a year and have yet to lose the thing.

Art Related Work

Last note on usability: my fiancée, artist Kelley Frisby, got her Surface Pro on launch day precisely because of the integrated Wacom digitizer with 1,024 levels of pressure sensitivity. From the outset the usage here was contentious because Surface Pro shipped without a pressure sensitive driver that Photoshop could understand. However, once that driver materialized, she took to using the stylus all the time. And when we learned about Manga Studio Pro from artist Jonathan Case’s website, things really went off the hook as she found it to be far superior to photoshop for creating hand drawn illustrations. That she can have her Surface Pro on her lap with pressure sensitivity while she draws, and her keyboard handy for using keyboard shortcuts, is a huge benefit that other tablets simply don’t offer. Truly, if you’re an artist who draws and paints digitally, Surface Pro is the device for you. Nothing else combines so many hardware capabilities and broad software availability.

3. Battery Life

Surface Pro Kickstand

This is the one serious issue that has dogged the Surface Pro since its original launch, despite the fact that it was never as bad as people claimed or the fact that Surface Pro 2 completely mitigated the issue (and by all reports, Surface Pro 3 does even better). Early claims were that Surface Pro got about 3.5 hours of battery life. And under certain circumstances, that’s true: watching 1080p videos with the brightness up while downloading stuff in the background will, like any other device, eat battery life much more than average usage will. But that’s only part of the test, isn’t it? Under normal usage, which I’ll define as web, email and word processing, Surface Pro 1 will get 5 hours battery life right out of the box. With some mild tweaks to the power profile, which I’ve detailed in one of our most popular posts, it’s entirely possible to get 6-7 hours of battery life. My best time was just over 8 hours total, but with a caveat: I was working with the wifi turned off, writing in Word, in a low light situation where I could comfortably turn down the screen brightness to minimum. Most people I know get in the range of 5-6 hours.

Why I Switched

Let’s be as clear as possible here: the Surface Pro is not a flawless device, but then, neither is anything else. My chief complaints are that the desktop in Windows 8.x needs a Modern UI revamp, and I wish the screen were a little bigger. I hope to upgrade to a Surface Pro 3 at some point in the future for that very reason, though my suspicion is that the artist community, such as my own wonderful Kelley Frisby, will hesitate to upgrade as a result of the new device’s possibly inferior N-Trig digitizer.

So that leaves the big question: why did I switch? That’s a complicated question. First, I was never sold on Mac OSX, but when Apple’s Bootcamp 5 update removed my ability to install Windows 8 as a dual-boot OS choice, claiming it wasn’t compatible with the computer I’d been using for 2.5 years (and at that, running Windows 8 on for 9 months), the final straw broke. This was the third time Apple’d created problems for my devices, following the iOS 5 update that slowed my iPad to a crawl and the iOS 4 update that made my iPhone 3G all but unusable.

The prospect of having a tablet and laptop all in a single device was also very appealing to me. Yes, there are compromises: it’s a little heavier than a tablet and a little smaller than a typical laptop, but the overall effect is a net positive, and I’m happy to say that my year with Surface Pro has me convinced: Microsoft’s vision of a world where tablets are just slim, light, touch-friendly PC’s is the right one. That we now see even desktop all-in-ones becoming large tablets (seriously, have you seen the Dell Venue Pro 18″ tablets? Crazy!) and touch slowly but surely spreading even to budget level laptops, is a good sign the convergence Microsoft predicted when it announced the original Surface Pro is really happening.

Problems I had & Solutions Microsoft offered

Surface by Microsoft

I mentioned the problem my original Surface Pro had with its wifi chip awhile ago, but there’s more to that story. In fact, just a couple of weeks ago my Surface Pro once again began having problems with the wifi chip, and no update, driver replacement, or even a system reset helped. Eventually the device started blue screening repeatedly, so I took it in to see what Microsoft could do for me. To my complete surprise, they handed me a brand new Surface Pro 2 and even let me pay the difference to upgrade it to the 256GB/8GB model, which I eagerly did. The new device is basically all the great stuff about Surface Pro 1, distilled into a purer form. Same weight, size and shape, slightly better screen (though I honestly can’t tell the difference, for what it’s worth), and the Type Cover 2 is a fantastic little keyboard that does its job with aplomb. I’m very happy indeed, and more than glad I bought the extended warranty.

Value Proposition

I’ve seen a lot of folks argue that the Surface Pro series is too expensive, and I can understand why. $999 before you even add the keyboard seems like a pretty tough pill to swallow, especially for a tablet when you live in a world of $499 iPads and $199 Kindle Fires. But I think it’s worth remembering what you get when you buy into the Surface Pro system:

1. You get an ultrabook that can run just about any legacy Windows app you can throw at it. It has excellent RAM options (4-8GB) and storage options (64-512GB), a full-sized USB port and both wired and wireless external monitor support (the latter via Miracast). In Apple land, this costs you $900 minimum.

2. You get a tablet that can do anything an iPad or Android tablet can do, plus more, with the only drawback being sheer numbers of apps. Even that is changing as the Windows Store approaches 200,000 and will soon merge with the Windows Phone store to boot. And because it’s Windows, you also get the perk of individual user accounts right out of the box. In Apple land, this is another $400+

3. A digital drawing/inking solution. Whether you just take notes or you do fine art, the Surface Pro has you covered. You don’t get this in Apple land at all. You instead buy a USB tablet that does not have a screen for $100+, or you buy a Cintiq to connect to your Macbook for $1,000.

Long story short: at first glance, yes, it looks like Surface Pro/2 is expensive, but you get a tremendous amount of value for your money.

Last Words

Would I recommend the Surface Pro or Pro 2? Absolutely, especially if you’re an artist or someone who’s just sick and tired of lugging around multiple devices. We live in a world where our computing hardware is not just powerful, but can do its job with surprisingly little energy or heat. There’s just no reason to carry two devices in your bag in addition to the smartphone in your pocket. If I could have a wish granted, it’d be for Microsoft to add an extra USB 3.0 port, thunderbolt, and move from an mSATA to a PCIe SSD. Mind you, it doesn’t exactly need those items, but the hardware nerd in me would be really happy to have them.

As for Surface Pro 3, well, I’d love to review it, and more importantly I’d love to put it in the hands of our classically trained illustrator so she can put it through its paces and render a verdict on its usefulness as an artist’s digital tablet, but so far haven’t had any luck getting time with the new device. But hey, if Microsoft would like to let us borrow one, we could probably work something out!

Oh, almost forgot: do buy Microsoft’s extended warranty for Surface Pro, no matter what version you buy. It’ll really pay off if anything ever goes wacky with your device, and it even offers accidental damage protection, which is usually pretty expensive if it’s offered at all.

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