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n0-eyedtaissa · 3 years

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Don’t You Forget About Me (Outer Banks OC x The pogues): Chapter Five

tagging: @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle@cactiem& @kazinejghafa.

(the updated fic masterlist can be found here)

Part Two: One Year Later

key event: first introductions

Clementine had never moved before, so she didn’t know how much work it was. Alternatively, she didn’t realize how bad moving sucked. Her and her father eat all of their meals at the cardboard box coffee table, staring at the blank white wall where the tv would go once it got there. There was nothing on the walls yet and the few pieces of furniture that they had with them sat sadly in the middle of the living room until they figured out their permanent places throughout the house. Gat would be there tomorrow with the big moving truck with the rest of everybody’s belongings and Clementine couldn’t help but laugh about how this was the first time in her life that she’d ever been looking forward to seeing Liam Gatwin. She stopped hanging up the clothes in her closet, unfolding the handful of shirts and sweaters that she poached from Kimber’s room. The lingering smell of the jasmine oil her sister always wore was a bittersweet reminder of how far away from home Clementine truly felt.

It was late afternoon and the sun was setting, reflecting burnt orange shadows on the hardwood floor and baking the white walls. Clementine squints and puts her sunglasses on despite the fact that she was barefoot and in her pajamas. She slides down the dining room wall and sits down, closing her eyes to take in the sunlight and feeling like a small, cozy cat. She feels the shockwaves from her dad’s footsteps as he makes his way down the uncarpeted hallway, stopping short of the dining room where she was sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor. Lyle laughs as he watches his daughter bask in the sun, a wave of fondness rushing over him as he takes a moment to appreciate her cooperation with moving, trying to be more aware of just how hard it had been for her. His knees crack as he bends down to sit on the floor next to Clementine and he exhales loudly, feeling some of his tension alleviate. Clementine scoots closer to her dad and pulls out one of her earbuds to offer to him. He accepts graciously and the two of them sit next to each other in comfortable silence in their new home.

“You think we’re gonna be all right here?” Lyle asks out into the open room.

Clementine has to think about the question for a moment so the two of them sit quietly. She could make a list of everything that’s wrong in the world, everything that she could be angry about (and God, there was a lot), but Clementine was tired of that. She was tired of being sad and jaded and just wanted to relax now. She takes a breath and reminds herself to think of the good things. She had her dad and the two of them were closer than ever. That was definitely a good thing. It was good that they had a new house, and that her dad got a new job doing something he loved and that would pay him better for his efforts. Selfishly Clementine couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that she would be able to reinvent herself in the Outer Banks, no longer having to be the girl with the missing sister. She scolds herself for being relieved. Her heart hurts when she thinks of Kimber and she’s not immune to the gut wrenching curiosity that comes with not knowing what happened to someone. Would she ever know what happened after that last conversation with her sister, what happened to Kimber in between getting into Gat’s truck and wherever she ended up?

Clementine shakes the thought from her head, knowing that her dad was still patiently waiting for some sort of answer. She has to clear the tightness in her throat so she coughs, takes a long, deep breath and says,“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see”. There’s a beat of silence before the two of them both start laughing, the boisterous sounds echoing around the empty room and warming up the house.

~~~

That next morning Clementine is woken up by her dad playing music loudly over the speaker system he insisted in installing first thing when they moved in. It was the loud guitar riff from the beginning of ACDC’s ‘Back in Black’. Classic Rock meant Lyle was excited, and Clementine didn’t know if it was because the moving truck was coming today, or if it was because Gat was the one who was driving it. Gat had been an honorary part of the family for years so everyone with eyes was aware of just how deeply Lyle thought of him as a sort of surrogate son; Clementine thought it was obnoxious but Kimber always thought it was endearing, shooing away Clementine’s pessimism with something like “When you have a boyfriend, Clem, you’ll see,”. After the past year of being around Liam Gatwin, Clementine hoped that if she ever ended up with a guy like him, someone would try to knock some sense into her. Yes, Liam Gatwin was a vital piece of the crew on the Vita Caprice, but he was cocky. And he was mean-spirited, always poking at Kimber just enough for her to snap before retreating and claiming he was just playing around. Clementine didn’t like him and he knew that.

She rolls out of bed and plants her feet on the cold hardwood floor, goosebumps erupting over her bare legs as she leans over to rifle through half-unpacked boxes in order to find something to wear for the day. Clementine gets dressed for the day, clipping on her overalls and tying on her hightop sneakers before gathering her belongings up into her backpack and figuring out where her skateboard ended up being thrown in the shuffle. She grabs her stolen gas station sunglasses and puts them on despite being inside.

“Going somewhere, Cool Guy?” Lyle asks Clementine as she rounds her way into the kitchen.

“Thought I’d take in the local flora, you know, really appreciate our beautiful new home” Clementine rolls her eyes with a laugh, grabbing a bruised banana from the bowl on the counter. She tries to jump up on the counter but it’s too tall and she’s not, so she lands back on the ground with the dissatisfied smack of her sneakers against the hardwood. Lyle holds back a laugh and Clementine looks up at him sharply, only making him want to laugh more. “Don’t you start” Clementine warns her dad.

“I’m not starting!” Lyle laughs, wiping toast crumbs off of the kitchen counter. “Hey uh, Liam’s supposed to be getting in around 6. I was thinking we pull out the barbecue and cook up something nice for him, how’s that sound?”

“I’ll pass.” Clementine mumbles through a mouthful of banana.

“And where do you plan on going otherwise?” Lyle raises one of his bushy eyebrows at her, clearly amused.

Clementine shrugs, tossing her banana peel in the garbage can before tucking her skateboard under her shoulder. “I’ll figure that part out on the way.” She walks out of the kitchen and towards the front door without waiting for so much as a response from her father.

The minute she steps outside Clementine is affronted by a wave of hot, sticky air. She thought the Florida heat was bad? It wasn’t much better in the Outer Banks. The heat hung low and made the air feel heavy, like Clementine had to work twice as hard to move through it as she walked up the dirt driveway and the small hill towards the main road up the Cut. The ground is too rough and rocky for her to be able to ride her skateboard without worry so she struggles to carry it comfortably, the grip tape scratching at her arms. Clementine takes a second to stop and look around, familiarizing herself with the area that was now her home. Immediately she liked how green it was, how much nature was consistently around her. She took a detour to walk along the rocky shore of the marsh, picking up smooth rocks and dropping them in the front pocket of her overalls. Clementine decides to take the long way (which is what she called it when she got lost), but finally makes her way towards the small central town hub.

As she walks past the rows of small shops, Clementine can’t help but think it strange that everyone waved at her as she walked by — it was like they could tell that she was out of place. Or maybe it was that the town was so small they could recognize new faces if and when they came around. Or maybe they were just nice people, unlike the people back home in Florida. Clementine wanders towards the open-air farmers market, looking at the tables filled with fresh fruit, homemade jams and pies, beeswax candles and chapsticks. As much as Clementine wanted to support the local economy, she didn’t have the pocket money for the artisanal offerings of the farmer’s market so she ducks inside Heyward’s Seafood, a small grocery store and fish emporium. Clementine walks down the few aisles, looking at today’s fresh catch as it cooled on thick ice and crunches up her nose at the briny, fishy smell. There’s only a small array of snacks and other treats to choose from so Clementine grabs herself a glass bottle of lemonade and some sunflower seeds before making her way to the cash register.

“You know, we don’t get a lot of new faces around here” The man behind the counter says as he punches buttons on the register. If he wasn’t smiling Clementine would have thought it sounded sinister. But he had a quality about him that immediately put Clem at ease, he seemed personable, knowledgeable, like the kind of person you’d want to befriend on this island.

“Me and my dad just moved here a few days ago, he works over on the Vita Caprice” Clementine smiles politely, handing over her sweaty five dollar bill.

“Ah, what’s his name, ah, Adams?” The man asks with a knowing smirk and Clementine nods at him. “I’ve known all the men he’ll be working with for years, he’ll be in good hands” He promises. It seemed like he was someone who was in the know about what happened around Kildere, which Clementine couldn’t help but be intrigued by.

“Well, that’s always reassuring!” Clementine puts her change in the tip jar on the counter. “I’m Clementine. Clementine Adams” She offers her hand for the older man to shake.

“You got a good handshake, Miss Clementine! Nice to meet ya, dear, they call me Heyward.”

Clementine’s eyes go wide at the realization that this was his store. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Heyward” She smiles at him again as she gathers her snacks and heads back towards the swinging door.

“Welcome to the island, Miss Clementine”

~~~

Deciding to wander some more, Clementine loops her way through the narrow streets, trying to find new places to visit and try now that she's officially a citizen of Kildere County. She passes an ice cream shop she promises she’ll check out someday soon, and a surf shop she hoped sold skateboarding gear but sadly didn’t. She skates up and down the streets of new home, weaving around the small crowds of people who all seemed to know each other by name. She wonders what it was like to live in the same small town your whole life, going to school with the same people from kindergarten all the way until the end of high school, how families in the Outer Banks probably went back for generations upon generations. Clementine can’t help but wonder about Florida, if there was anything that changed since she left. She thinks about her old childhood home, now abandoned and empty, a ghost of everything that once was normal to her. She wondered if a family had moved in, or when one would. Who would move into her bedroom? Would they like the way that the mid-morning light came through the window? Did they notice that the third stair creaked just a little louder than the others, that the front door stuck when it got too hot outside? Would they paint over the height chart that was scrawled onto the door jamb by the kitchen? Maybe they would be able to feel that something happened there, something still unresolved. They’d board up Kimber’s old room so that nothing bad could happen to their children, to make sure the depression or the restlessness couldn’t slip through the air vents or through the cracks in the floor boards, so that no one else can sneak out through the window, never to be seen again.

Clementine was always wondering about her sister. Kimber was always floating at the back of her mind, waiting around every corner when Clementine wasn’t looking. She might have been missing, but Kimber wasn’t forgotten. No matter what Clementine said, no matter what Gat did, no matter what Lyle wished, none of them could move past the hole that Kimber left in all of their lives. It had been a year and everyone said that it was time to start moving on but Clementine disagrees. To move on meant to forget Kimber and everything that she was…and no one wanted to do that. In Clementine’s mind, Kimber was just one bedroom over, or reading a book at the breakfast table, or tucked into the corner seat of the couch watching reruns on the history channel with dad. Kimber wasn’t missing she was away at college, she finally got out of Florida. In some of Clementine’s more imaginative scenarios, Kimber was studying abroad in Europe, drinking cafe au laits in lush patio gardens and reading books by people who were long gone. Or she was on a beach somewhere, South America maybe; Or backpacking across somewhere foreign and beautiful. In all of Clementine’s scenarios her sister is alive and well and Kimber was always on her way home. But that’s all they were, made-up scenarios.

~~~

Deciding to be over with her little pity party, Clementine decides to look up from her shoes and notices the busy restaurant in front of her, immediately intrigued by the ‘help wanted’ sign that was taped in the window. The Wreck, Clementine didn’t know it yet but it was another Outer Banks staple. It was always busy, always filled with people from both Figure 8 and from the Cut. There were always tables to wait on, tips to pick up, and a line of people waiting to be seated. Noticing the expensive cars in the parking lot, Clementine thinks that this might be fate. She didn’t have any friends yet in the Outer Banks, but she could get a job and save up her money for when it mattered. A job would be good for her, she’d stay busy, out of the house and out of trouble, so Clementine opens the door to the restaurant and walks inside.

“Welcome in, sit anywhere” The dark-haired waitress says, not bothering to look up at Clementine as she moves from table to table with her busboy tote. The two of them looked to be about the same age and Clementine wondered if she would see the girl around school when it started up that fall, if she’d also be a junior.

She clears her throat, not interested in sitting down, getting a menu handed to her, or hearing about the lunch special that day. “No, uh, I actually came to see about the help wanted sign that you guys put up?”

The young waitress turns back to Clementine and looks at her quizzically, Clementine can’t figure out if this is because the girl can recognize that she’s new in town, or if she’s just surprised that someone new wanted to work at the restaurant. The girl looks up from the stack of dirty dishes, wiping her arm on the bandana wrapped around her head that was keeping her long, curly hair out of her face. “You’ll have to talk to the Boss” She gestures to a stressed out looking man who was working in the kitchen, handing freshly prepared dishes of food to waiters to dole out to their respective tables. Clementine takes one look at him and it’s clear that the “Boss” was this girl’s father, the resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. Something about that made Clementine like this place a little bit more, that there were dads and daughters working side by side just like at her house.

“Thank you” Clementine mumbles. “Oh, uh, I’m Clementine by the way. Just moved here…”

“Kiara” The girl, who now has a name, smiles at Clementine “Don’t worry, it only sucks here sometimes”

Clementine laughs, appreciating Kiara’s honesty. “I’ll have to keep that in mind” She says and Kiara politely excuses herself to get back to waiting tables. Clem walks up to the small kitchen window in the restaurant, trying to wait for a moment to catch the owner’s attention.

“Can I help you?” Someone asks from behind Clementine and she whips around. It’s an older woman, a mother’s age; older but young enough to still look pretty, just more tired. Anna, her name tag said, owner. Clementine can infer that this is Kiara’s mom by the way that the girl looks at the woman. There’s something about the way that Kiara rolls her eyes when she’s told to get back to bussing tables, though there’s still a whisper of a defiant smile on the corner of her lips.

“I noticed that you guys had a help wanted sign in the window and I wanted to see if I could apply for the job.” Clementine gives Anna a tight-lipped smile as she tries to stand up a little straighter, to make herself seem more adult and not a sweaty teenager carrying a beat-up skateboard.

Anna gives Clementine a secret once-over, her eyebrow arching up in question when she turns to ask “Well do you have any experience?”

“Oh yeah, tons” Clementine answers. “Back in Florida my sister and I used to work at this steakhouse, Rusty’s.” Clementine had worked there one summer, so it was only really a half-lie.

Anna looked pleasantly surprised. Just as she goes to open her mouth and say something, she’s cut off by the welcome bell and a big group of people walking into the restaurant in their varying shades of pastel shorts. She exhales a big breath and turns to Clementine with a sheepish look on her face. “How soon can you start?”

“Right now?” Clementine asks, not sure if that was what her new boss was alluding to.

“Perfect” Anna exhales.

She unties the apron from around her waist and thrusts it into Clementine’s hands, handing off her pen and pad of paper. Anna pastes on her fake smile as she goes to greet the group, scooping up an armful of menus. “Welcome in everyone, welcome, welcome! Let’s get you seated over here!” Anna puts on her perfectly crafted customer service voice as she corrals the group towards a long table. “This is our new trainee, uh…” Anna has to pause, realizing that she never asked Clementine her name.

“Clementine” She smiles at the table full of people, “What can I get you all to drink this afternoon?”

~~~

Clementine actually likes working, though she’d never admit that to her dad or anyone else. She liked being able to put herself on autopilot, to focus so hard on so many things at once that her eyed glazed over and she ran on pure instinct alone. A pitcher of sweet tea for the table, a round of waters, would you like to hear about today’s lunch special? Table five wants an order of ceviche for everyone, the kid at able three wants an extra packet of oyster crackers to put into his bowl of clam chowder. Clementine scrawls down orders in her small, slanted writing and hands them over to Mr. C, Mike Carrera, her other Boss. Clementine shadows Miss Anna all day, helps Kiara clear off tables and wipe them clean. She stays there for hours, impressed with herself and how she was able to walk her way right onto a job. When the lunch rush ends and the bulk of the customers had managed to roll out, Miss Anna walks up to Clementine and hands her a bundle of crumpled up dollar bills; tip money for her efforts.

“Thank you girls for your help this afternoon” Anna says, addressing Clementine and Kiara. “You two head out for the evening. Clementine, you’ll be in tomorrow for an actual training session, right?”

“Yes, ma’am” Clementine nods.

“Bye mom!” Kiara says, already turning on the heels of her high tops and getting ready to walk out the back door. She stops short and turns to Clementine. “Aren't you coming?”

“Oh!” Clementine is surprised that Kiara was talking to her. “Definitely” She responds quickly, picking up her skateboard and her backpack and following her outside.

Kiara leads the way outside and neither of them say a word until they make their way out of earshot from the customers sitting on the patio. The two girls walk towards the parking lot with the gravel crunching under their feet, sounding deafeningly loud in the mutual silence. They stop short at a beat-up looking SUV with a wicked dent in both the front and back bumper. Clementine thinks the juxtaposition between the expensive car and the dents is sort of funny, but she doesn’t want to say anything and piss off Kiara — who had been rather nice without particularly needing to be. Kiara opened the back hatch of her car and invited Clementine to sit in the laid-down back seat.

“I can’t believe my mom just threw you to the wolves like that,” Kiara laughs, “That feels illegal as shit”

“I’m just impressed that I actually managed to keep up” Clementine reveals. “At one point it literally felt like my brain turned off and I was operating like this little capitalist robot” She wiggles her fingers and Kiara laughs at her, knowing the feeling.

“At this rate, you’ll be employee of the month in no time” She tells Clementine matter of factly.

“Ouch, I didn’t mean to knock you out of your spot” Clementine jokes, hoping that since Kiara was playing around with her a little bit she would be able to play back.

“I never even stood a chance…” Kiara laughs.

“Sometimes not even nepotism can save you” Clementine shrugs and the two of them look at each other and start laughing.

“So how long ago did you move?” Kiara asks Clementine as she crosses her legs and makes herself comfortable in the trunk area of the car. She pulls out her sunglasses case and picks a joint out of it, offering it silently to Clementine and trying to see if she would take it.

Clem realized that Kiara was trying to gauge her and her interests to figure out that she was into and if she was cool enough to hang around. She retrieves the lighter that she always kept on her and sparks up the joint before answering “Three days ago”

Kiara blows out a big breath of smoke. “Fresh meat” She chuckles, handing the joint over to Clementine.

“I guess so” Clem laughs. “What about you, how long have you lived here?”

“My whole life” Kiara answers. Clementine can tell that she’s not a fan, though. There would always be something about hometowns; they restricted you. They were a lethal mix of claustrophobic and nostalgic, with memories all ready to peek their heads around unsuspecting corners. Looking around Outer Banks, Clementine wasn’t yet able to distinguish the good from the bad but she knew that in time she would.

“That bad, huh?”

Kiara shakes her head. “Only sometimes”

The two pass along the joint until it burns down to a small roach, making small talk. Kiara was from here, born and raised. Big house on Figure 8, which Clementine found out was the name for the rich neighborhoods built up with white marble McMansions. Her parents were Mike and Anna Carrera, owners of the Wreck, both alive and well and grossly happy in their marriage. No siblings, though Kiara said she used to beg for a little brother or sister all the time when she was younger because the house was too big for just the three of them. She’s a socialist who swears up and down that she hates rich people (despite being one). She’s a pescatarian and a virgo, she likes surfing, swimming, and political activism. Kiara realizes that she’s been talking about herself for quite a while now and she laughs it off nervously. “Sorry, the weed’s catching up to me…” The two of them laugh and then it was Clementine’s turn to share:

She was Clementine Adams, seventeen, born and raised not that far outside of Miami. Her dad was Lyle Adams, he worked as a commercial fisherman on the Vita Caprice. Her mom was gone, her sister wasn’t with them right now. She doesn’t say the word missing, just that Kimber didn’t move with the rest of them. Clementine hopes that Kiara doesn’t read too much into it. She tells her that she’s a cancer, though she doesn’t agree with how emotional her horoscope makes her out to be. She likes soccer, skating, reading books and riding bikes with her sister. She tells Kiara that she doesn’t know anyone in OBX yet and that was why she decided to get a summer job to make some money while killing time. This part, of course, was a morsel of information that Clementine threw out there in hopes that Kiara would ask to hang out again or something (though she’d never be the first person to initiate the conversation).

The sun had started to lower in the sky and the two of them were still talking. It was nice to have someone new to talk to, no one who’s opinion of you was already tainted by things that they’d heard about you from someone else. Neither of them seem to realize it but it was like they had this innate need to talk to one another, to purge some of the energy that was bubbling up inside each of them and threatening to boil over. Clementine and Kiara sit side by side with their legs swinging over the trunk of Kiara’s big, dented up car. They trade stories, small ones, bullshit moments that didn’t really mean much in the long run but were memorable enough to share with someone. There were lots of faceless names thrown around: John B, Sarah, JJ, Pope, Kimber, Gat, but it didn’t really matter who these people were, just that they mattered enough to be mentioned by Kiara and Clementine, even if only in passing.

“So can you ride this thing?” Kiara asks, spinning one of Clementine’s skateboard wheels with her hand and watching as it rolled, fast and smooth, before stopping.

“Only sometimes” Clementine laughs, calling back to Kiara’s comment from earlier. She points out a handful of scraped and bruises on her knees and lower legs that prove her point. “What about you, ever ridden one?”

“If you count a surfboard, then yeah” Kiara laughs.

“I don’t count that, no” Clementine grabs her board and tosses it on the ground with a clatter. “Like at all actually” She laughs and gets up from her spot next to Kiara and puts one foot on the old, beat-up skateboard, pushing off and rolling around the back parking lot area of the Wreck. Clementine shows off a little, popping an ollie or two, getting all four wheels of the board off of the ground and actually landing them.

“Okay so how do you do it then?” Kiara asks, her curiosity getting the better of her as she stands up, going to stop Clementine’s skateboard with her foot.

Clementine looks up eagerly. “You want to learn?” She’d been skating for a handful of years now, since she was going into her freshman year of high school and she decided that she was too cool for a beach cruiser. She remembered how many summer afternoons she spent in the driveway with Kimber and Gat (back then when he was Just Gat, a friend of the family and not Kimber’s boyfriend), falling and getting back up, laughing and getting laughed at. But she got the hang of it and gained a little confidence and soon her skateboard became her main method of transportation.

Kiara jumps up. “Why the hell not!”

Clementine beams at her, hoping that this was some sort of inclination that the two girls could end up being friends, not just coworkers who spent the lunch rush together pulling their eyes as they handed out hot plates to hungry tables. She holds the skateboard steady with her feet so Kiara can get on it, offering her hand to hold onto as Kiara finds her balance. She’s a little wobbly at first, clutching onto Clementine’s hand with a shaky smile. “Spread your feet like you would on your surfboard” Clementine instructs, pushing Kiara’s feet further apart so that her front and back foot were in line with the bolts on the skateboard. “Bend your knees”

“Like this?” Kiara bends her knees, immediately feeling the burning in her thighs. She makes an uncomfortable face and Clementine laughs.

“If your legs aren’t on fire, you’re not doing it right” Clementine laughs, grabbing Kiara’s shoulder and giving her a light little push so she started rolling across the parking lot.

Kiara lets out a little yelp. “Oh shit, I’m doing it!” She throws out her arms to keep her balance and Clementine runs across the lot, trying to catch Kiara in case she fell.

Clementine tries to kick any big rocks and pebbles out of the way of the skateboard wheels so that there was nothing to potentially trip her up. Back towards the restaurant Miss Anna peeks her head out of the back door and watches as Clementine and Kiara run across the parking lot riding along on the beat-up skateboard.

“Kiara! Are you corrupting my new employee already?” Miss Anna scolds, her hands on her hips as she stands out on the back stairs. Part of her feels conflicted, it was good for Kiara to make new friends but she didn’t know Clementine, so she didn’t know what kind of kid she was, if she was anything like the usual company her daughter kept. But she wonders if this was a good thing, a new friend for Kiara, maybe someone who would help her break the rebellious streak she’d been on. It was nice to see her daughter smile though, Anna could admit to herself. It had been quite some time since she had seen Kiara do anything but scowl, too mad at the world and everyone in the Outer Banks.

Kiara stops smiling just as quickly as she started, taking a shaky step off of Clementine’s skateboard as she planted her foot on the ground to stop herself. “We were just messing around” She scoffs, freezing up like Clementine had seen a handful of her friends do around their mothers. There seemed to be something about the way a mother could judge you so deeply and fully in the least amount of words. With a gesture, or a look; the sharp uptick of an eyebrow or the rude quirk at the corner of her lips. Kiara deflates and rolls the skateboard back to Clementine.

Clementine has an idea, though. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and see’s that it’s going to be 6:30 soon, so Gat should be there with the moving truck by now and her dad said that he was planning on barbecuing to celebrate his arrival and the beginning of the move-in process. She knows that it’s presumptuous to think that her and Kiara are anything more than co-workers, but she wanted to make a friend that day because she deserved to have someone to hang out with and confide in. Given the way that the two of them had been faring, why couldn’t it be Kiara?

She clears her throat and just asks the question: “Do you wanna come to my house for dinner? The moving truck just got here and my dad was supposed to barbecue, could be good. If you’re not busy, I mean” Clementine tacks that part onto the end of her sentence, giving Kiara a caveat in case she had somewhere better to be.

Kiara looks over Clementine’s shoulder, back towards her mom and the restaurant. She doesn’t answer right away and that made Clementine think that Kiara was surely going to turn down the invitation. But she doesn’t. “Sure, I could eat” Kiara shrugs off her mom’s comments and her shitty attitude and Clementine watches her light up a little easier.

The girls load up into Kiara’s expensive (but dented) car and take off. Kiara has no problem getting around the island, she knew the place like the back of her hand. She liked to brag about her sense of direction and how if she’d been somewhere once, nine times out of ten she could remember how to get there again. Kiara maneuvers her car easily through back streets and residential areas to avoid the traffic and the stoplights and soon they’re pulling up in the gravel outside the Adams household and parking next to the half-empty moving truck. Clementine gets out of the car first and Kiara follows cautiously behind her, not a fan of venturing into uncharted territory. There’s stacks of boxes on the front porch, with some propping open the screen door so Lyle and Gat can have a clear path as they bring in the bigger furniture — the entertainment center, the dresser, the kitchen hutch — all those kinds of things that you apparently needed “man power” for. The love seat is sitting on the lawn, little divots being dug into the grass from where the wooden legs sunk deep into the storm-saturated earth. Clementine gestures to the couch and Kiara follows her over to it, where both of them sit down and groan as they drop down into the plush cushions.

“Well, look who finally decided to join us!” Lyle calls out to Clementine as he hops off of the front porch step and crunches his way across the dried grass. He’s surprised to see a tangle of long dark hair next to Clementine as she splays out on the love seat, though he tries not to make a big deal out of it. “Who’s your friend, Tiny?” He asks, using the childhood nickname the Clementine was never fond of. Back in Florida he was always trying to encourage Clementine to go out and make more friends, or to invite the girls from the soccer team over for a barbecue or a sleepover. He wanted her to have more friends and be more social, wanted her to rely less on her sister. Clementine was always shy but after Kimber disappeared it was like what little light was left behind his daughters eyes went out completely.

“This is Kiara” Clementine gives her dad an awkward, closed-mouth smile. She stiffens up at Lyle’s use of the word friend since she’s not sure if that’s what her and Kiara were. “Her parents own The Wreck” Clementine adds.

“How nice, we’ll have to go and try it sometime, won’t we, Clem?” Lyle smiles at the two girls as he goes to pick up another packed cardboard box.

“Yeah well, I have to be there again tomorrow any ways, so…” She shrugs, thinking of getting an actual work training session from Miss Anna and not just being thrown to the wolves during the lunch rush again. Lyle raises his bushy eyebrow at his daughter in hopes that she’ll further explain, so Clementine continues, “I got a job there. That’s where I was today”

Lyle drops the big cardboard box, the contents inside rattling as they hit the ground. He’s clearly shocked by the idea that Clementine left the house to go on a walk and explore, only to come home with both a new friend and a new job. “A job? Wow, look at you, Tiny. I can hardly believe it!” He laughs. Clementine can feel her face go red and she looks over at Kiara, who’s toying with her phone to avoid overstepping into this weird, familial moment.

“It’s not a big deal or anything,” Clementine shrugs. “Hey dad is there food ready?”

“Yup, everything’s in the kitchen, you girls go on and help yourselves.” Lyle groans as he reaches for the box again, his back screaming at him to take it easy. “Make yourselves useful, though, and take a box with you when you go”

Clementine rolls her eyes as she goes to pick up a box labeled C’s Room. Kiara goes to pick up a box like Lyle suggested and Clementine panics. “Oh no, no, you don’t have to do that!” She insists but Kiara shrugs her shoulder and send her a quizzical look.

“I got it” She says casually, picking up the box like it’s no big deal.

Kiara follows Clementine up the porch and into the half-assembled house, dodging her way around randomly placed furniture, stacks of boxes, and other big plastic storage tubs. Clementine leads her down the long hallway and into what was becoming her bedroom. The girls drop the boxes in the corner, next to the other stacks of boxes, next to Clementine’s mattress that was on the floor. Kiara looks around the room, taking in what little was there and trying to figure out more about Clementine from the things around her that she could see. There’s a fish tank fully set up in the corner of the bedroom, where Clementine’s four fish are swimming along happily. Kiara walks up to the tank and touches the glass, watching as the fish follows her finger.

“You can feed them if you want” Clementine laughs, pointing to the little container of fish food off to the side of the tank.

Kiara accepts and drops a pinch of the funky smelling flakes into the water, watching the fish corral as they flapped their mouths open and closed. There’s a beat of silence as the girls watched the handful of fish, but Kiara eventually pipes up and says, “Your dad seems pretty cool”.

“He is, yeah” Clementine agrees, not caring if that was something that made her seem uncool. Her dad was trying really hard to be there and be present for Clementine, something that didn’t go unrecognized or unappreciated.

“Is it just you guys here?”

Clementine nods, knowing that this conversation would come up eventually. “Yep” She swallow hard and takes a second to figure out just how much detail she’s willing to divulge to Kiara after only a few hours of knowing her. “It’s just me, my dad, and Gat here right now.”

“Is that your brother?” Kiara asks again, and the mere idea of being related to Liam Gatwin was enough to make Clementine want to gag.

“God no,” She shakes her head, her short hair falling into her eyes. “He works on the Caprice with my dad, unfortunately the two of them are sort of a package deal. Gat and my sister dated for a really long time”

Kiara nods her head as she follows along. “So is she here? Your sister, I mean…” As an only child Kiara always thought the prospect of having an older sibling (or any sibling at all) would make life better. Especially a sister; Kiara thought having an older sister would be great, there was always someone there to keep you company, always someone there to show you cool new things.

“She’s not here right now, no” Clementine says simply. Because in Clementine’s mind, Kimber was never that far away, and she was always coming back.

Kiara seems to be satisfied with the answer to her question so the two girls go back to making small talk before heading to the kitchen to snag a bite to eat. There’s a plate piled high with chargrilled hamburgers and hot dogs ready to be fixed up to everyone’s liking, and a big family size bag of chips on the counter nearby with the bag left open crumbs spilling out. Men, Clementine thinks, swiping away the crumbs and getting a plate for herself and Kiara. Before Clementine hands off the chipped ceramic plate to Kiara, she remembers something that she said earlier that day:

“Aren’t you a pescatarian?” Clementine questions, suddenly nervous that she’d made some sort of grave mistake by inviting Kiara over to eat.

Kiara waves a noncommittal hand before grabbing the plate and loading it up. “Only when it’s convenient…”

A set of footsteps ring out from behind the two girls and Clementine turns around to see Liam Gatwin trudging towards the kitchen from the laundry room, where the side door led outside to where his trailer sat parked atop cinder blocks in the side yard.

“Nice of you to finally bless us with your presence, Clem” Gat rolls his eyes and scoots past Clementine, hip-checking her out of his way as he grabs a beer from the refrigerator. Clementine scoffs at him and hip-checks him back, because two can play that game, and she grabs herself and Kiara each a beer out of the soggy cardboard carton. Kiara starts to laugh but covers it up with a cough, suddenly becoming very interested in the food on her plate, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

“Rake it in while you can” Clementine deadpans, handing over the beer to Kiara while knowing that Gat wouldn’t tell on them. That was one of the rules that Kimber taught Gat if they were going to date while he worked for their dad. Rule #1: Whatever happens, we don’t tell dad. Gat mutters something rude under his breath and trudges back the way he came, leaving Clementine and Kiara in peace. Clementine hopes to god that it’s not awkward, that she didn’t make things weird by inviting Kiara back to her house and introducing her to her embarrassing dad and her sister’s jerky boyfriend. Just as she’s about to say something, to interject and ask if there was something she wanted to do or if she had someplace better to be, Kiara’s phone vibrates on the table.

She picks it up and reads the message, smiling, before turning to Clementine to ask “Do you wanna go to a party with me?” Before Clementine can really process the question, she feels herself nodding because yes, she does want to go to this party with Kiara. Clementine had already taken her fair share of risks today, what harm could one more do? It was going to be different now, here in the Outer Banks. Clementine was making sure of it.

#fic: don't you forget about me #dyfam #outer banks fic #outer banks oc #obx oc: clementine adams #kiara carrera x oc

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

Photo

Next installation of the POTC AU, at long last! Sorry for the delay...RL has been a bit of a hindrance, and I also had to kind of restructure some things in the storyline to help with flow and such, and that resulted in me having to draw another drawing, and yeah, blah blah, Tory lost her sense of rhythm and pretty much daily update schedule in the process. XD; Mea culpa!

In this part, we’ll have focus on both sides of the “divide,” with both Carewyn and her new ally Davy Jones/Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws and Charlie Weasley (pictured above in an even more pirate-y coat and hat than we saw last) and his sloop’s passenger Chiara Dalma. Will our pirate friends be able to reach Shipwreck Cove before they’re cut off by our non-pirate ones?

Interestingly enough, there was a pirate called Moody in the 1700s, though this one was Christopher Moody, not Alastor. Not much is known about him aside from his brutality (refusing to take prisoners), his unique Jolly Roger flag (which was red and gold rather than black), and his death by hanging in 1722. Pirate!Mad-Eye is going to be much more like his book/movie/game counterpart, but I just thought it was a fun coincidence. (Particularly his red/gold color scheme for his flag, which of course are Gryffindor colors!!)

Jules Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, last part is here, and whole tag is here! Hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn knew there was no way she would be able to get Jones’s heart as long as her men were guarding the Chest -- yet, at the same time, she couldn’t just order them to abandon it without cause...and she’d need that time, if she wanted to unlock it without stealing the key from Rakepick. And so she’d need a proper diversion.

Davy Jones himself came up with a solution. If the Flying Dutchman was engaged in battle, then the soldiers might have to jump in to help defend it. All they’d have to make sure of was that the enemy they engaged in battle was one Cutler Beckett would approve of -- namely, one of the more wanted pirates in the Caribbean, and someone who could end up being one of the Pirate Lords.

“I do not know any of the pirates’ current list of so-called ‘Lords,’” said Jones, “but if I were to guess, I would say your brother’s a viable candidate.”

Carewyn shook her head. “Rakepick blew up the Tower Raven. Jacob managed to escape, but he only has one other person with him and he won’t have a ship.”

“Not his flagship, perhaps, but the rest of his fleet would have still survived,” pointed out Jones. “And the more ships there are, the most justification there would be for your Navy reinforcements. Once I have my heart returned, I can always call off the attack -- there’s no need for me to capture or kill them, aside from following Beckett’s direction.”

And so it was very reluctantly that Carewyn agreed to let Jones covertly seek out the remainder of the Tower Raven’s fleet while supposedly looking for Shipwreck Cove. Little did Carewyn know that the Tower Raven’s fleet was likewise headed for Shipwreck Cove, and that they were on a collision course with a tiny red sloop steered by Charlie Weasley.

When Charlie came upon the fleet of pirate ships, he initially wasn’t too worried. Yeah, naturally, they dwarfed his vessel easily, but he presumed that they were heading for Shipwreck Cove as well, and they didn’t have much reason to attack a small sloop like his. What Charlie hadn’t factored in was that the captain of one of those ships -- Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody -- had gone through his fair share of trauma when he used to be in the Navy and was something of a paranoid sort...and so within minutes, the little sloop Charlie and Chia Dalma were on was soon pursued by Moody’s much larger galleon, called the Phoenix.

Fortunately Charlie was more than talented enough of a sailor to keep his head. Using the advantage of his boat’s size, he weaved expertly through the remainder of the Tower Raven’s ships to evade the Phoenix’s cannon fire.

“Oi!” Charlie bellowed up at one of the ships he was hiding behind. “Tell your mate to bugger off! I’m not with the bloody Navy!”

Chia made no move to help Charlie: instead she stood on the other side of the sloop, watching the seas with a wary eye. There was something troubling on the wind -- something in the air...

A pirate from the Phoenix came up to the railing to look down at Charlie and Chia on their sloop as Charlie sailed it around his galleon. He was a broad-shouldered man about Charlie’s age with dark red hair under a black bandana and small emerald green eyes, and he was dressed in a burgundy-colored coat.

“Hey -- you!” the pirate bellowed down at him. “Down there! Shout up your name!”

Charlie hesitated at first. He knew it was unlikely that most pirates would recognize his name as being that of a pirate -- if anything, the name “Weasley” was associated more with the Navy, even if he, Jules, and Bill had recently been branded criminals.

‘Even so,’ he thought, ‘I’m never going to be able to build a reputation as anything other than a Navy veteran if I don’t use my name. And well, these guys answer to Carey’s brother -- it should be safe...’

“I’m Charlie Weasley!” he shouted back. “Quartermaster of the Revolution under Captain Jules Farrier-We -- ack!”

Before Charlie could even finish, both he and Chia had gotten a net thrown over them and they were hauled aboard the Phoenix.

As Charlie had feared, the name “Weasley” made everyone on the Phoenix tense up with suspicion. Charlie’s “twin,” it turned out, had been swept up by Cutler Beckett, who was now flaunting the fact that the famous, brilliant young Commodore Carey Weasley was answering to him and helping him with his new anti-piracy campaign. Charlie knew full well the only reason Carewyn could be associating with Beckett was to try to sabotage him, but the Phoenix’s Captain Moody seemed doubtful of that explanation. His First Mate, Barnaby Lee -- the young man who had first demanded Charlie’s name -- seemed noticeably less suspicious, but wasn’t half as assertive or articulate as Moody, so the Captain’s conclusion won out among the crew.

Charlie and Chia were soon hauled down to the brig with the thought that once the fleet arrived in Shipwreck Cove, Moody’s superior, Black Jack Roberts -- were he still alive -- would be able to discern how best to deal with them. Charlie hadn’t been too surprised that Jacob hadn’t told everyone in his fleet that “Carey Weasley” was really his sister, but he couldn’t help but curse the fact that Jacob had merely ordered that his men not “damage anyone with the name ‘Weasley’ and immediately bring them to him to deal with.” Even if he had to keep up a “tough guy” image, it would’ve been nice if Jacob had factored in the possibility that he wouldn’t be leading his fleet.

Unfortunately Moody’s suspicion had a real cost. Because of his focus on Charlie and Chia Dalma, he wasn’t focusing on the turbulence of the seas and skies that Chia picked up on -- and so had no warning whatsoever when the Flying Dutchman attacked. Soon the entire fleet of ships that once sailed under the Tower Raven was hotly engaged in battle with the infamous ship of the damned, pirates facing off against both cursed sailors and Navy officers.

While Davy Jones, his crew, and the Navy’s officers were fighting on the upper deck, Carewyn had stowed away below deck to where the Dead Man’s Chest had been left. After sending the remainder of the patrol above deck to help with the sea battle, Carewyn immediately got to work picking the lock on the Chest. Although it was a bit trickier to do it on her own than it had been with Percy, that hindrance was counteracted somewhat by her having unlocked the Chest once before. Within fifteen minutes, Carewyn had unlocked the two-sided lock and opened the Chest.

But when she opened it, she found it completely empty.

“It seems we truly are as alike as I thought.”

Carewyn whirled around.

Rakepick was leaning her shoulder against the door frame. She’d discarded her tricorn hat just as Carewyn had since they were no longer on deck, and her dark blue eyes were locked on the Commodore’s face as though it were a target.

Carewyn immediately pulled out her pistol, pointing it right at Rakepick.

“Where is the heart?” she said very coldly.

“I confiscated it,” said Rakepick simply, “back when I checked to make sure Jones’s key works.”

“On Beckett’s orders?” asked Carewyn.

Had she truly not fooled Beckett, after all? Had Rakepick been sent to watch her as well as Jones? Her face blanched at this thought.

“For my own benefit,” said Rakepick. “Just as I daresay your attempt to steal the heart also was.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not stealing anything.”

”I don’t know what else you’d call picking the lock on a Chest that’s in the custody of the British Navy,” said Rakepick with a rather cool smile.

Carewyn clicked her pistol and pointed it right at Rakepick’s head.

“Hand over the heart,” she murmured, “now.”

Rather than looking the least bit intimidated, however, Rakepick almost looked more pleased. She eased herself off the door frame and took a few steps closer to Carewyn.

“You intend to kill me, Commodore?” she said.

“I would prefer not to,” Carewyn answered icily. “But I suggest you don’t push me -- I can still shoot you in plenty of places that would be extremely painful or deadly, if left untreated. And no one would come to help you with your wounds -- there’s more than enough noise above deck to muffle any gun shots that might come from down here.”

Rakepick’s lips spread into an even fuller, satisfied smile as she came to a halt just a foot from Carewyn. “I see. If I’m dead, you won’t learn where the heart is. Very astute, Miss Weasley.”

Carewyn stiffened sharply.

“I knew it as soon as I saw you,” said Rakepick softly. “I daresay because your family is poor, you didn’t have enough prospects to just marry into money. Probably were too independent and self-sufficient to settle for that, as well....so you joined your brothers in the Navy by dressing as another son. I suppose ‘Carey’ is just a play on your real name -- is it Cara? Or Carina?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carewyn whispered.

She tried to obscure her fear with anger, but it was proving difficult -- her face was as white as a sheet.

Rakepick couldn’t fight back a scoff. “Now, really, Commodore -- do you truly think you’re the only woman who realized how few opportunities there are, for us to get ahead in this world run by men? I dressed as a man and joined the Navy myself during the War, fighting the French off the coast of Africa as a privateer for his Majesty’s Navy.”

She started striding in a leisurely circle around Carewyn, even as the Commodore kept a beady eye on her.

“‘Patrick Rakepick,’ I was called then. I probably would’ve continued that way too, had privateering not been outlawed with the end of the War. Suddenly all of the skills I had learned -- just as with all privateers -- became illegal and therefore useless. I was at the bottom once again, even worse off than before, thanks to the time lost and the injuries suffered. So I did what many other privateers did -- I became a pirate, so I could continue using those skills the Crown had taught me to support myself -- ”

“By pillaging merchant ships and attacking innocent people,” Carewyn spat. She wished she’d been able to keep her temper, but the mental image of this woman shooting Jacob in the back and pushing him overboard had rippled through her mind and it was a knife to her heart she couldn’t bear.

“We all have to do things we’re not proud of in order to survive, Miss Weasley,” said Rakepick very quietly. “That’s the reason you’ve stayed in line with Beckett yourself, is it not?”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. Rakepick took her silence as an excuse to press further.

“I saw the way you treated the prisoners from Tortuga. You did not treat them as Jones would, or even as any other officer would. You insisted they be fed and watered consistently, despite their large numbers and their shortened lifespans. You gave one a Bible, on request. You even moved a woman into a different cell so she could be with her husband for the rest of the voyage back to Port Royal, without even being asked.”

Rakepick’s dark blue eyes surveyed Carewyn with something interested, almost admiring, as she came to a halt just behind the shorter young woman.

“You have the heart of a guardian, Miss Weasley. Something not frequently seen in any line of work I’ve ever been part of -- privateering, piracy, or pirate hunting...and something never found among men like Cutler Beckett. It makes you want to protect others as well as yourself. It makes you a natural leader -- one that anyone would be foolish to deny their proper place.”

“I don’t need your flattery, Rakepick,” Carewyn said coldly, turning on her heel to face the older woman once again.

“This is not flattery,” Rakepick answered just as coldly. “It’s advice from someone who has been in your shoes. It’s not easy for anyone without money and status to get ahead in this world, but it’s even harder for a woman. Even when she’s able to acquire those things, there’ll always be a man attempting to clip her wings, so as to make him feel more powerful -- more in control. Even the tale of the goddess Calypso herself proves this. She ruled the seas, until the Pirate King and his Brethren Court ‘bound her’ into human form and stole control for themselves. They were powerless in the face of the Crowns of Europe...and so they exerted power over someone they could hurt.”

“Yet Cutler Beckett hired you, regardless of your sex,” said Carewyn, raising her eyebrows.

Rakepick crossed her arms over his chest. “Cutler Beckett will clip anyone’s wings, female or otherwise, if it benefits himself. Hence why I need this leverage over him.”

“Seems like the leverage is much more over Jones, considering you hold his life in your hands,” Carewyn cut her off harshly. “Now enough stalling -- give me Jones’s heart.”

Rakepick gave a half-frustrated, half-exhausted sigh. “Miss Weasley, do you truly think I wouldn’t have handed the heart over to you already, if I could? I’ve already made it more than clear I trust Beckett as little as you do. I’m not in this fight for him. I have no more love for either the Navy or the pirates than you do. I assure you -- we’re on the same side in this.”

‘Doubtful,’ Carewyn thought spitefully.

Nonetheless she could tell that she’d been outmaneuvered. Rakepick wasn’t going to hand over Jones’s heart, whether because it wasn’t on the ship or Rakepick was just too brave to give in to any threats she might make. She’d lost the element of surprise completely...and if force wasn’t going to work, then a new strategy was clearly needed. She needed to find out the heart’s new location. So, very reluctantly, she tucked her pistol back into its holster.

“If you’re so out for yourself,” said Carewyn coldly, “and you believe me to be just as out for myself...then we can’t be on the same side, Rakepick.”

Rakepick’s eyebrows rose over her narrowing dark blue eyes.

“I never said you were out for yourself, Miss Weasley -- merely that we are alike.”

She swept past Carewyn and headed for the door. When she reached the door frame, however, she paused. Turning her head back toward Carewyn, she spoke a bit more seriously.

“The battle between the Navy and the Pirate Brethren Court is going to be a fierce one. It would truly be in your best interest to get and stay off the Dutchman, before that fight begins.”

Carewyn shot a suspicious look over her shoulder without turning around.

“What battle?” she asked lowly.

“The place where all pirates will have to make their final stand.”

“You’re so assured of that? We haven’t even found Shipwreck Cove,” Carewyn pointed out. “Come to think of it...shouldn’t you know where Shipwreck Cove is, since you were a pirate yourself?”

Rakepick’s eyes flashed.

“I’m afraid not,” she said, her voice noticeably icier than it had been previously.

The question seemed to have gotten under Rakepick’s skin, and Carewyn suspected she knew exactly why. Only pirate captains were generally told the the location of Shipwreck Cove -- since she hadn’t assumed captainship through “Code-sanctioned” means, Rakepick couldn’t have been told by anyone else on the crew of Howell Davis’s ship where Shipwreck Cove was.

‘Serves you right, for what you did to Jacob,’ Carewyn thought, and she couldn’t completely fight back a small smirk.

“Regardless,” said Rakepick, “it won’t take long to find it. You saw the map Beckett designed, in your office -- it’s been finished, since you last saw it. The world’s edges have been drawn and charted, and so too have all of the places pirates could’ve once hidden. Now that they’ve been fenced in and the British Crown has allocated its Navy to the East India Trading Company’s war on piracy...it’s only a matter of time before all pirates face extinction. Those in power will not surrender it peacefully...least of all to those they’ve decided to treat as inferiors...so they’ll use every bit of that power they’ve accrued to try to quash any resistance. Those remaining pirates will have to either adapt to this terrifying new world their rebellion has molded...or perish.”

Rakepick turned away.

“And you, Miss Weasley...should not remain on the Dutchman. You don’t belong on a ship like this.”

Even as Rakepick left, Carewyn remained where she was, standing straight-backed in the center of the room with her fists clenched. Then, after a long moment, she brought a hand up to the lid of the empty Dead Man’s Chest and shut it with a harsh SNAP.

The sea battle up above raged. Captain Moody, it seemed, was truly a force to be reckoned with, despite his age and wooden limbs. When Navy officers and Dutchman pirates found their way onto the Phoenix, he fought four of them off single-handed, even going so far as to yank a blunderbuss out of his pants and shoot one of them right in the head before smacking two of the others with it as if it were a club. It was just fortunate that Charlie -- newly escaped from the brig thanks to a charm of Chia Dalma’s -- was able to block the sword belonging to the last of them with his own dragon-hilted blade.

Despite this, the Phoenix and the rest of the Tower Raven’s old fleet was severely outmatched, since Jones’s crew couldn’t die. Many ships had already started to flee, only for the Flying Dutchman to cut them down with cannon fire. Even though the Dutchman was no larger than the pirate galleons, it seemed to have the supernatural ability to heal any damage dealt to it within the span of a few minutes -- an ability not shared by Captain Moody, when he swung over to the Dutchman and pursued Jones with singular, irrational focus, only to finally be overpowered and killed by Jones himself.

“NO!” bellowed Barnaby.

Charlie straightened up sharply, his eyes widening in horror, at the sight of Moody falling to his knees, Jones’s blade stuck right through his chest.

Jones regarded the old man with a grim expression.

“Alastor Moody,” he murmured, “do you fear death?”

Moody glared up at Jones with his one good eye, but was clearly too badly injured to speak. So instead he spat at his feet.

Jones looked almost jaded by the reaction -- the way any embodiment of Death would likely be, whenever anyone got mad at them for doing their job.

“Clearly not.”

With this, he rather callously tossed Moody back over onto the deck of the Phoenix and whirled back to his crew.

“Ready the cannons!”

Barnaby immediately rushed to his captain’s side to help him up.

“Captain -- Captain, are you -- ?”

Alas, Moody was still too injured to speak clearly. When he opened his mouth, all he could do was cough up blood. Charlie rushed over too.

“He’s hurt bad,” he muttered. He turned to Chia. “Is there anything you -- ?”

Chia shook her head, her gray eyes very solemn. “I’m sorry, Charles Weasley. There’s no more time I can give him.”

Charlie was startled by the sensation of someone grabbing the collar of his shirt. Moody pulled him down closer to him, trying to whisper into his ear.

"You -- ” he choked through the blood in his mouth, “ -- have the Pacific Ocean’s Piece of Eight -- ?”

Charlie blinked in surprise. He glanced down at the anchor-trimmed “S” button Chia gave him, which he’d pinned to his vest for safe keeping until he could properly sew it somewhere more secure.

“...Yeah,” said Charlie. “Chia Dalma gave it to me.”

Moody squinted up at Charlie.

“...Shipwreck Cove -- is due west, of here. Fifty miles -- through the D-Devil’s -- Throat. Take -- the crew there.”

Charlie was completely blind-sided. “What?”

“Lead them. Take them to -- Shipwreck Cove. To the rest of the Court. To -- Black Jack.”

Charlie’s brown eyes rippled with sadness, seeing how much difficulty Moody was having talking. He was out of time, as Chia had said -- and yet, here he was, putting his crew first.

‘For all of his faults,’ thought Charlie, ‘Mad-Eye Moody is a good captain.’

The second-eldest Weasley took Moody’s wizened hand in both of his and gave it a squeeze.

“I will,” he said firmly. “I promise.”

Blood streamed from Moody’s lips as they curled up in a pained smile. “That’s a good lad...”

He coughed, trying hard to take another breath. This time, however, the blood blocked his throat enough that no oxygen could reach him. And so Moody, in the last shreds of his life, bravely raised his eyes to the sky with a smile.

Barnaby had brought his two large fists up to obscure his face as he started to cry. Charlie hung his head respectfully over the fallen captain of the Phoenix. After a moment, he brought up a hand to close Moody’s eyes and then rose to his feet, his eyes blazing with determination.

“ALL HANDS, PREPARE THE CANNONS!” he bellowed. “We need all the explosives and smoke bombs we have -- we’re getting the Hell out of here!”

Charlie’s strategy was to assault the Flying Dutchman with two waves of attack. The first would be to damage the ship enough that it would need a few minutes to repair itself -- the second would be a smokescreen, so as to hopefully put enough distance between the Phoenix and the Flying Dutchman that the second couldn’t actively take down the first with its cannon fire. When Charlie ran to the edge of the Phoenix beside Chia Dalma to make the order to fire, he was startled momentarily by who he saw coming up onto the deck of the Dutchman.

It was Carewyn.

Jones confronted her immediately, his eyes narrowed sharply as he barked something to her -- Carewyn looked rather frustrated herself, but Charlie couldn’t make out what they were saying. Within seconds, however, both Jones and Carewyn turned their focus to the battle -- and they both caught sight of the two people at the railing.

Jones’s eyes flickered with shock, disbelief, and something oddly more vulnerable. He’d never seen the human woman on that ship’s railing in his life...but he knew those gray eyes...

“Ca...lypso...?”

Chia Dalma’s hands clutched the railing as her eyes filled with tears and a weak smile prickled at her features.

“Finn,” she breathed.

Carewyn, meanwhile, had met Charlie’s gaze straight on. Her eyes were very wide at the sight of him, just as much as Charlie’s was at the sight of her.

“Carey!” cried Charlie.

His heart felt like it was fit to burst, seeing his surrogate twin again. Part of him just wanted to throw himself over his ship’s railing over to her and pull her into the biggest hug, and yet --

She was on the Dutchman -- the Flying Dutchman, the ship of the damned --

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with fear as she shot her head around, taking in her soldiers fighting off pirates from the rest of the Tower Raven’s fleet on the deck of her ship and the Phoenix’s cannons being turned into the proper position.

Her gaze then shot back to Charlie’s face with urgency.

“BECKETT IS COMING!” she mouthed to him desperately. “BECKETT IS COMING! GO!”

She then yanked her pistol out of her belt and purposefully shot right over Charlie’s head, to make her point. Clenching his jaw, Charlie nonetheless nodded firmly, blinking back some traces of tears as he whirled on his crew.

“FIRST WAVE, FIRE ALL!” he roared.

With the Dutchman effectively hampered by both waves of attack, the Phoenix was able to successfully put a respectable distance between it and the Flying Dutchman. Carewyn tried to keep their focus on the rest of the fleet and on capturing prisoners from those vessels, but Rakepick contradicted her, ordering the Dutchman to shadow the Phoenix in case it was heading to Shipwreck Cove. What Carewyn did not expect was Jones agreeing with Rakepick.

“I want everyone on board the Phoenix locked in my brig,” said the captain of the damned icily, his gaze flaring with raw emotion as he glared at Carewyn. “I will not let them escape me.”

Carewyn knew she’d been outmaneuvered again. There was nothing more she could do, to protect everyone now. It was all up to Charlie now, to warn Bill, Jules, and Jacob...to warn Orion...

The memory of the pirate captain’s calm, dark eyes made Carewyn’s heart clench with longing and pain. He’d always made her feel so much stronger, whenever she felt most useless and hopeless...but right now, more than anything, she longed to have him at her side -- to feel his shoulder resting against hers and see his soft smile once more...

Rakepick was right -- the final battle was coming, sooner than anyone could’ve ever predicted. It was all up to Charlie to warn the Brethren Court now.

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #my art #my writing #charlie weasley #carewyn cromwell #chiara lobosca #Mad-Eye Moody #barnaby lee #finn mcgarry #jules farrier #bill weasley #patricia rakepick #damn it rakepick!#sadly we couldn't afford to set finn free just yet though #gotta get closer to shipwreck cove and reunite him with chia :3 #but yay captain charlie weasley of the phoenix!#he may or may not change the name to something more dragon-like later XD #but yeah technically you gotta be a captain to be a pirate lord #one reason moody gave charlie captainship #and also because as great as barnaby is I think he makes a better First Mate than a Captain #just like bill does XDD #I love putting rakepick and carey in a room together #wonder if you guys can guess who the brethren court members are...#hint: two of them are mc's who have done content for the au #(another mc is the keeper of the code >:3)#four are hphm canon characters #(one of those is charlie of course)#and the last is one of my kiddos >:3

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hilltopsunset · 3 years

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I Regret Buying Pokémon Shield

I told myself I wouldn’t do it. I’ve seen time and again the lack of innovation from main-series Pokémon games, and I insisted nothing would convince me to buy this latest atrocity. Yet here I am, reviewing the game I said I’d never purchase. I should have listened to myself. I KNEW BETTER! Strap in, ‘cause this one’s pretty long.

Pokémon has been around for a long time—like, a long, long time—and I’ve been around for every single new main-series game that’s been released since the franchise’s first arrival in North America back in 1996 with Red/Blue. I was not yet 10 years old, and I still remember the childlike excitement of finding rare, never-before seen creatures, the stress of trying to catch a wily Abra or elusive Pinsir, and the challenging first encounter with the Elite Four and the Champion, a 5-man gauntlet of trainers with powerful Pokémon rarely (if ever) seen in the game prior to that moment. It was exhilarating in a way that keeps me coming back for more, hoping to rekindle those same flames of wonder.

While the main gist of the games hasn’t changed much over the years, one of my favorite parts of playing a new Pokémon game is seeing the improvements each game brings to the series. Many of the initial sequels made huge leaps in progress: Gold/Silver introduced a plethora of new mechanics like held items and breeding; Ruby/Sapphire introduced passive abilities and was the first to include multi-battles in the form of double-battles; Diamond/Pearl was the first generation capable of trading and battling online and brought us the revolutionary physical/special split so elements were no longer locked into one or the other. These changes all had significant impacts on how players approached battles, formed their teams, and used each Pokémon.

Those changes, combined with the addition of new Pokémon to catch, regions to explore, and enemies to fight, were enough to keep me interested. But I know I wasn’t alone in imagining all the possibilities of taking the franchise off the handheld platforms and moving the main series games over to a more powerful home console. In the meantime, each generation that followed Gen IV highlighted a new, troubling pattern that became more and more prevalent with each addition to the series.

1. Gen V: Lack of meaningful gameplay innovation

By Generation V with Black/White, not only was Game Freak quickly running out of colors, they were quite obviously running out of ideas for significant gameplay innovation. The bulk of Black/White’s biggest changes were improvements on or adaptations to existing staples to the franchise: many new Pokémon, moves, and abilities were added, and the DS platform allowed for greater graphical quality where Pokémon could move around a bit more on-screen during battles, the camera wasn’t as rigid as it had to be in previous games due to machine limitations; perhaps most importantly, they FINALLY decided to make TMs infinite. Thank goodness. While the updates were nice, they were nowhere near as impactful on the game as previous generations’ changes were and served more as needed quality of life adjustments.

I would also argue Gen V also had the least inspired Pokémon designs (like Vanillux and Klinklang) with the worst starter choices of any Pokémon game, but that’s a discussion for another time. Excadrill and Volcarona were pretty cool, though.

2. Gen VI: Gimmicks as the main draw

Pokémon X/Y (See? They ran out of colors) continued this new downward trend in innovation. Mega-evolution—while admittedly pretty cool—wasn’t enough to carry the new generation into an era of meaningful improvement because it was equivalent to adding new Pokémon rather than developing innovative gameplay, ushering in a new era of gimmicks in lieu of substantial updates.

Though the gameplay innovation for X/Y was minimal, the graphic updates were substantial: Pokémon X/Y was the first generation to introduce the main series to a fully 3-dimensional world populated by 3D characters. However, since X/Y was on the 3DS, it was a ripe target for the 3D gimmick seen in almost all games on the console, which I personally used for all of 5 minutes before feeling nauseous and never using the function again.

Despite the fresh look of the new 3D models, the battle animations were, to be frank, incredibly disappointing. Pokémon still barely moved and never physically interacted with opponents, nor did they use moves in uniquely appropriate ways. To my point, for years now there’s been a meme about Blastoise opting to shoot water out of his face rather than his cannons. I was sad to see that they didn’t take the time to give each Pokémon’s animations a little more love. But I figured, in time, when or if the franchise ever moved to a more powerful machine, they would be better equipped to make it happen, right? I also convinced myself that the lack of refined animations were kind of charming, harkening back to the games’ original (terrible) animations.

3. Gen VII: Focus on Minigames

The main innovation (gimmick) that came with Generation VII, Sun/Moon, was the lack of HMs in lieu of riding certain Pokémon. Sun/Moon also added Ultra Beasts (essentially just new Pokémon) and Z-moves (just new moves) which only added to the number of gimmicks present in the games. These changes, which provide some mild adaptations to gameplay from previous generations, don’t fundamentally change the way players go through each game, the way that updates in the earlier generations did. I personally played through the entirety of Sun/Moon without using a single Z-move or seeing a single Ultra Beast outside the one you’re required to fight to progress the main story. Ultimately, these changes were not a significant enough experience to warrant an entirely new game that is otherwise full of more of the same stuff with slightly different creatures who have slightly different stats and occupy a slightly different world.

Though Sun/Moon was comfortably embracing the franchise’s affinity for gimmicks, it brought to the forefront yet another troubling trend: mini games. Between photography, the Festival Plaza, and Poké Pelago, the focus on and attention to detail toward mini games had grown considerably over the years. Pokémon games have always had minigames and other time-sinks—which is great! Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate having more to do than trudge through the main story. But it is apparent that, with each new generation, more time seems dedicated to development of these extras. Pokémon Contests, Secret Bases, Super Training, feeding/grooming; a lot of their larger innovations after Gen IV were centered on non-essential parts of the game, which results in diminished game and story quality overall.

Admittedly, Sun/Moon did have some of the best exploration moments of any of the Pokémon games, which I did very much appreciate. More on that later as it relates to Sword/Shield…

4. Generation VIII: You Can’t Be Serious

When Game Freak finally announced they were launching Generation VIII, Sword and Shield, on the Switch rather than a dedicated handheld console, I was beside myself with excitement.

And then I saw gameplay footage like this, and my heart sank.

What is the purpose of launching the game on a stronger console if they are going to continue copy/pasting their sprites and their animations? If they aren’t going to provide the Pokémon any unique flair or create more appropriate animations? It was disappointing enough seeing the same animations/models from X/Y for Sun/Moon, but that was sort of expected since the games were on the same console. But now that the game has moved to the Switch, this is unacceptable.

When I learned that they were significantly cutting the number of Pokémon available in the game, I thought for certain that would translate to more time dedicated to the ones that made the cut, to focus on adding animations and character to the critters to make them feel like real parts of the world, rather than avatars of a child’s imagination, unable to fully process how the world functions. Alas, what was I thinking?

I thought the Dynamax gimmick would be one of my biggest gripes because it’s so pointless, or maybe the Wild Area’s severe lack of organic belonging (all Pokémon are just wandering aimlessly, weather can change drastically after crossing an invisible line, trees look like they were cut and pasted out of Mario 64, you can’t even catch Pokémon if they’re too high a level) but honestly the most disappointing part of the game for me was the pitiful routes between towns/gyms. Previous installments of the game included routes full of trainers and puzzles you needed to defeat or solve before you could progress—in Sword/Shield, the only thing that ever prevents you from progressing are some Team Yell grunts barricading paths the game doesn’t want you to take yet, for literally no reason. It completely removes player autonomy and a sense of accomplishment earned through overcoming challenges—now instead of learning that you need to find an item that allows you to cut through certain trees to gain access to new areas, you simply follow the story beats and then, upon returning, the path will be open. It’s inorganic, it’s clunky, and it’s extremely lazy.

Speaking of lazy, the story itself was another massive disappointment for me. Pokémon games are not particularly known for having deep stories, but Sword/Shield takes it to a new low. Every NPC simply pushes you to battle in gyms, and every interesting story beat that occurs happens just outside the player-character’s reach. Any time something interesting happens, you are shooed away and told to let the grown-ups handle it while you just get your gym badges. There COULD have been some interesting story moments where your character gets more involved with helping fix the havoc occurring around the Galar Region, but instead we as the player are simply TOLD what happened, why it happened, and who fixed it (usually the champion, Leon).

I honestly think having the game focus on the story of Sonia, Bede, Marnie, or even Hop (was not a fan of this kid) would have been a much more interesting game, because those characters actually had some depth to them, some bigger reason for taking on the gym challenges than simply “I want to be the very best.” Albeit those stories would have required a tremendous amount of work to add depth and details, the potential for a better story is in those characters. There is just no story at all to the main character, who is ushered from gym to gym because…because? Because that’s what kids do? I’m not even really sure what the motivation is.

There are SO MANY exciting, interesting, innovative ways Game Freak could drive Pokémon into a new and exciting direction while still maintaining its charm and building on existing mechanics, but they instead choose to demonstrate their lack of interest in significant graphical and gameplay innovation. I imagine this is largely because the masses will eat up just about any Pokémon product produced so long as there’s a new bunny to catch, and Pikachu is still involved. I’m disappointed, and I wish the Galar region could meet the expectations of my 10-year old mind’s imagination.

When abilities were added, we suddenly had to consider whether our Earthquake could even hit the enemy Weezing and adapt to the tremendous changes the passive skills added, reconsidering how we faced each battle. When the physical/special split occurred, entirely new opportunities opened up and certain Pokémon who were banished to obscurity due to their poor typing and stat distribution, like Weavile, were suddenly viable. Some even became incredibly powerful, like Gyarados, who had been hit pretty hard by the Special attack/defense split. There were also already-powerful Pokémon (Gengar, Dragon-types) who became even more so through access to STAB moves that benefited off their strongest stats.

I want new games to include updates that feel as impactful as these changes. If you’re interested in how Game Freak can improve on the main gameplay, I have some fun ideas that will be fleshed out in another article: How to Breathe New Life into the Pokémon Franchise. That article will be dedicated to explaining what those changes are, why I want them, and how they can improve future games.

#pokemon #pokemon shield #pokemon sword/shield #game review #review #hilltop sunset #streamer #gamefreak #gen viii #gen 8

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nightmaze · 4 years

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#HOME (silliness included)

A month ago we were finding the place where we could possibly move, filling all the files needed, sending so much paper that I’m that everything was done via mail as it would have costed the life of at least a whole tree to print everything, and not only we were lucky enough to have done everything right, but we also had the opportunity to pick the apartment where we would live as the couple who was supposed to take the apartment we were interested in eventually decided to not pick it.

A whole month later, we’re now in that new place, trying to arrange everything, one box at a time, and to survive to the infernal August heat.

We had been looking on and off for a new place since a few months before finding this apartment and we had a lot of issues to find one which would be affordable and comfortable for me to live while not being overpriced. Came that point where I said I couldn’t continue to live in that place, we had taken this apartment when my health was still ok and the two stairs weren’t a problem, we liked the park and our small terrasse, but the new landlord had cut all the trees and the gardens, destroyed our terrasse and was making our life a nightmare, telling us that he would stop if we could convince our landlord to sell him his share of the house where we were living.

After a few weeks looking for a new place, calling people, realizing that they wanted us both to work full time with a high salary to get an apartment of the same size (45m²), we were pretty discouraged, until I found an ads about a pretty cheap apartment to which I answered instantly explaining our current situation. I also tried to call, over and over again, as nobody would ever answer. It’s on the way of visiting another apartment that I managed to get on hold of one of the person responsible of those cheap apartments, who brushed me off, explaining to me that they only rent to people who were working in companies participating to the constructions of the building. I was of course disappointed and discouraged, even more after visiting that apartment which was nowhere as nice as it was described, but they called me again while we were heading back home, this time telling me that they read my mail and they wanted to help. She explained that they were allowed to make an exception for 1% of the place they were renting and that me, being handicapped in an unsafe place with two stairs should benefit of that help. I don’t think I’ll thank them enough to have gotten us out of our old place which was honestly becoming more and more dreadful as the new landlord was attempting to force us to either leave or do what he wanted.

We signed at the beginning of the August, the movers came a few days later to decide for a price to move us in our new home (my back is too much of a problem to move on our own and we don’t have family around), we boxed our belongings during the week-end, which was a crazy experience (did you ever try to pack a home where you lived for 11 years in 2 days ? I don’t recommend it) and the next day lots of people were in home moving things right at left until nothing remained there.

Our new place is nothing like the last, it’s bigger, sunnier, easier to air, all around better except for some weird details that I still wonder how those happened. Before even living there, we already had problems with a lot of doors not closing, lockets being blocked and the entrance door we couldn’t lock. All that (and more, A LOT MORE) was caused by the people who painted the house after the departure of the previous tenants. Happens that while they stayed there for 10 days to take care of everything, they just decided to not protect anything and roll with it. They painted the locks, they painted the tubes, they painted everything they could see, causing a lot of damages on the way and we’re still discovering some every single day. Those dude were so lax in their work that they threw all the paint in the bathtub and didn’t clean it, as a result, the bathtub is full of paint and the siphon is clogged.. Of course they did the same with the sink because why the fuck not. Day two here, I managed to FLOOD MY NEIGHBOR, which was a little crazy, we have some evacuation on the floor and I cleaned the loggia where it is and without thinking much just threw that in the evacuation.. Which was actually a hole leading directly to the loggia of the apartment right under us. Result : a taco machine died. The plumber came today and the evacuation was actually clogged and some weirdo made two holes leading directly down for the sake of it. Our plumber, insurance and renting company are as perplexe as us as how all that happened. We’ll never solved that mystery. Someone came to repair our intercom as well, as unless yelling we weren’t able to hear each other.. Fun fact, the reason why there was a problem was because they managed to turn the mic and sound upside down when installing the intercom.. So we basically requested to solve a problem which was happening since years and years for everybody (hope they will be happy to be able to hear who is using the intercom now).

Anyway, this place is a lot bigger than the previous one, we have 2 bedrooms which also mean we can think of enlarging your p our family and so on.

I don’t post a lot of update and don’t answer to everything that is sent my way, but I wanted to thank you for your support and kind messages. This new place will do me some good mentally as much as physically, I already feel a lot better than those pasts months during which we had to deal with constant renovation and people hitting our wall randomly from 8AM to 8PM.

I know 2020 is pretty hard for everybody, take care of yourself and your loved one, I wish you all the best and some good news ♥

#I MOVED #FINALLY #AFTER SO LONG #personnal #non FFXIV

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nevergiveupneverrun · 5 years

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Bodyguard - Chapter Thirty-five “The smile that lights up...”

Hello, I hope you’re all doing great. Here is chapter thirty-five of my story Bodyguard. I’m so sorry for the long absence, I had a lot of things to do, but now, it’s summer break so I will have more free time to translate. I’m sorry by advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link of the previous chapter because it’s been a long time since the last update: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

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- Ok, we find ourselves at the entrance to the market… - Do you think you’ll arrive soon? Asks Rosie in the handset. - I’m waiting for Amelia, and we’re leaving immediately after, so in about twenty minutes. I have to leave you, sorry, see you later. I quickly hand up the handset of the house, after my last words. I preferred to avoid conversations from the direct line of the chalet: even though I knew that the probability that the crazy man is locating us in almost non-existent, I preferred to take no risks… and calling from a phone booth was a much safer option. But I could not really explain it to Rosie, it would expose her to one of the reasons for our presence and endanger her indirectly.

I put on my leather jacket while scanning the house quickly. Our arrival a bit hasty had almost put aside the place so special that I found. Memories, images were inseparable from this small nook of Canada, anchored in the mountains. My eyes are then on the single photo frame of the room, present in a shelf installed in the living room. A photograph that crystalizes my past and the man I am… I take advantage of the absence of Amelia and I quickly get rid of this photo frame. I hesitate a few seconds then I join the kitchen and put it in the drawer that was not used, left empty until then on the buffet. I immediately return to the living room while I perceive steps resound on the stairs. And it’s a white apparition that runs down the steps. I need to blink several times to convince myself that this is not a mirage or a hallucination caused by the fatigue of the last days. But at the end of the third blink of successive eyes, the image becomes more precise and confirmed under my eyes… a special white lace dress that I had not seen for many years. Who dresses perfectly… Amelia, detached and slightly curly hair, falling along her shoulders. A silhouette, a dress that troubled me at first: Rosie’s words instantly return to my mind, the resemblance even more striking and disturbing when I see her dressed in one of my mother’s favorite dresses… I look at her and discover that she ha also put on white wedge sandals: an impeccably matched look that makes me realize that fashion is only an eternal restart… the 70s can mingle without false notes in the 21st century. - Excuse me… I took a little longer than expected… I always observe her without a word, captivated by her image: she was simply beautiful. She perceives my insistent gaze and scans herself, placing her attention on this dress. - Uh... I… I might not have had to… but I don’t have much to wear… almost nothing at all and I took a look in the wardrobe in the room and discovered a series of clothes… I spotted very pretty summer dresses, I tried this one… and as she is at my size… but I can change, it’s probably a bad idea, I don’t even know who it belongs to… She turns around as I recognize her lack of self-confidence strengthen over her words. I hold her by sliding my hand against her arm. - Don’t change yourself… it suits you very well… and if these clothes can be useful… - But the owner might not agree? - She would approve, I reassure you… I feel her indecisive, not really satisfied with my answer but I don’t develop more. I seize her leather jacket and my scarf on a nearby chair and hand her. - Can we go? She nods while putting the jacket and scarf, still a little troubled by my mysterious answer but doesn’t ask any other questions. - Your hand is better? I asked while recovering my wallet as I slip it into a pocket of my jacket. - Yes, I changed band-aid, but it’s already almost healed, by tomorrow there will be nothing left. I smiled weakly and grabbed the keys of the motorbike while heading to the crash-helmets placed on the living room table. - Are crash-helmets really necessary? Asks me suddenly Amelia. - It’s more careful… and it’s mandatory… - But if you don’t go fast… you drive carefully… it’s just that it’s so beautiful outside… I wish I could feel the breath of the wind freely on my and the heat of the sun on my face… I hesitate in front of her request. We did not have to hide here, we were several hundred miles from Seattle, in a secluded part of the mountain. And concerning the Driver’s Manual, we could get rid of it, the feeling of freedom is more important than the respect of the rule. Especially considering our context. - Ok, we can do without, but promise me that you will be careful on the motorbike, no clumsiness because, without a crash-helmet, a shock or a fall can be serious… She nods, smiling weakly at me. - Ok, so let’s go! I wave her to the entrance and locked behind her. The sun is sparkling and reinforces the beauty of the landscape: the edge of the forest a few steps from the chalet, the golden wood of this house that stands out by capturing the rays of the sun and a look back reveals me the reflections of this little emerald lake that springs against the chalet.

Amelia is waiting for me next to the motorbike while watching intensely the landscape that surrounds us. Unlike our arrival the day before, I am reassured by noticing some lights dancing in her pupils, but she doesn’t make any comments. I get on the motorbike and slip the keys in the ignition. I feel a hand rest on my left shoulder while a slight breath makes me perceive the movement of Amelia in my back to settle behind me. Reflexively, I put my hand on her thigh behind me, but I forgot she was in dress… the position imposed by the motorbike has noticeably raised it and it is her skin that I feel under my fingers. - Hold you well… I detached my fingers quickly, this contact was unforeseen and I didn’t want to embarrass her… or increase my trouble. I feel her arms encircle me and her hands rest firmly on me. - I don’t clutch you too hard? - No, it’s okay… are you ready? - Yes, let’s go… I feel a hint of enthusiasm in her voice that makes me happy: a small foray into this joie de vivre that seems to be slowly returning. It only remained for me to relight gradually. I start the motorbike and we start at a moderate pace. We travel for several meters the path that crisscrosses the forest and that leads up to quickly lose several meters of altitude. We thus find the clearing and the tranquility of a mountain road. I remain attentive to Amelia’s contact with me: the pressure of her hands, the sensation of her body just behind me, focused on my handling of the motorbike to avoid any risk of accident or fall. I fork after a few minutes following the direction of a sign to the village we were going to join. We thus finish by distinguishing contours of residences then quickly a panel of entry of the village. I reduce a little more pace while in a few seconds, we reach the center of the village where I park the motorbike on small parking.

I let Amelia go down first while she leans on my shoulder. I leave my motorbike and then take a look at the place a few steps from us, where I spot traders’ stalls, so specific to market day. I scrutinize the scene a bit more and recognize Rosie, settling a greengrocer. - Rosie is here, we join her? Amelia nods and I slide my hand behind her to guide her. We are getting closer to the market activity and I meet Rosie who is smiling at me instantly and comes to meet us. - Hello Owen, she said, making me two kisses. She then turns to Amelia and I notice she stops a few seconds discovering her. - This dress fits you wonderfully Amelia, she whispers kissing her in turn. Owen, you were right to offer her your mother’s dresses, they have the same silhouette… Amelia finds my eyes and I detect the surprise in her eyes, Rosie has revealed the identity of the owner of these clothes. - Good, kids, I started doing some food shopping. Amelia, there is very nice clothes stand with little dresses that should please you, we should go! Owen, there are also shirts for you, but I think you have what you need in the chalet. - Yes, it should be fine… - Ok, so let’s go there! Amelia peers me a few more moments, intrigued by the information that Rosie just gave her, then she follows my long-time accomplice. I walk alongside Amelia and we walk along with several stalls until she stops in front of a florist. Rosie turns around, perceiving our stop and observes Amelia leaning towards a bouquet of flowers. - Henry has the most beautiful flowers in the area, says Rosie smiling at the stallholder on the side, cutting stems of roses. - These peonies are beautiful, I’ve never seen with such a bright pink… she says in front of a bouquet of pink and white peonies. - He has his secrets, our Henry. - A bouquet would make you happy, miss? The stallholder suddenly asks Amelia. I scrutinize her while she observes the flowers with a spark in her eyes and in particular a bouquet on which her eyes come to linger: a bouquet of white and purple peonies with roses, roses associated with an original touch that give some flowers of sunflowers. She remains silent for a few seconds while looking at this bouquet then raises the head towards the florist.

- No, thanks sir, she finally answers. But you have very beautiful flowers.

- Thank you, Miss, have a good day.

Amelia smiles at him before moving forward to continue our progression in the small market.

Rosie passes us again and we stop only two stalls farther, at the outer shop of a merchant of clothes.

- Jenny, here is the young woman I told you about.

A woman in her forties appears on the side and comes to meet us.

-Good morning Miss. I thought I heard that you needed clothes.

- Uh… yes, indeed, answers shyly Amelia.

- Rosie put me in the secret, resumes Jenny smiling. And I put aside several outfits to try, if you want, I can show you.

Amelia turns to me furtively and I encourage her with a smile.

- I really like your dress, by the way, style 70s that are all the rage right now. I think I just aimed in my choices. So, first of all, you have these two summer dresses.

Jenny presents to Amelia a long dress that looks like the one she had in Campeche and a shorter dress, light blue with straps.

- I also have jeans if you want, pants or capri pants and a whole series of T-shirts and light sweaters for this time of year. What do you say about it?

- It’s… very pretty…says Amelia staring at the outfits successively held by Jenny.

- Maybe it’s best to try them, right? You have a small space behind the curtain to change.

Amelia looks at me again, hesitant.

- Go, try it. Take your time.

I smiled at her and she finally walked away with Jenny to take a close look at the outfits and visibly choose the ones she would try.

Rosie is repositioning herself beside me by watching her.

- She is really beautiful…

- What? - Stop Owen, I see that you stare at her blankly. You are as transparent as your father was with your mother. I’m happy for you by the way…

- Rosie, it’s just a friend, do not start to imagine things that don’t exist.

I then notice Amelia’s gaze heading in my direction a few moments before she goes back to Jenny and disappears behind the fitting room.

- Things I imagine, huh?

Rosie asks with a crooked smile on her lips.

I don’t reply to her innuendo, it could last hours with Rosie if I fed her doubts.

- Thank you for preparing the house before we arrived… it was perfect.

- It’s okay. I see in any case that Amelia seems to be better than yesterday, less closed, more relaxed. - Yes, it takes time, but she takes over little by little. - All the better. There is nothing harder to bear than to see such a beautiful young woman sad and withdrawn.

The sound of a curtain we discover is heard and Amelia appears to us again dressed in the long dress that Jenny had shown her previously.

A long pink dress that brings out the blue of her eyes.

- So, what’s your opinion?

She asks us shyly looking at us.

- My opinion doesn’t count, I think. The opinion of a man is always the most important, replies Rosie.

I cross her eyes and I discover a touch of mischief that does not surprise me in the least.

I redirect my attention to Amelia while swallowing and preparing my answer.

- It suits you…

- Just that? You’re not going to convince her with that, Owen! Rosie launches by my side smiling.

She wanted to lead me hard and she took pleasure in the situation.

I keep my eyes fixed on Amelia who looks down, a little disconcerted visibly by my answer. I had to express my opinion clearly… not really the fields that I master best, or that I do it most easily, but I would have to force myself for the days to come.

- No, I mean… she fits you perfectly… you are… you are gorgeous…

Her eyes suddenly appear to me as her head is raised.

And one more detail captivates my attention: a smile emerges on her lips, spontaneous and candid smile, the first in a long time and I react in the same way in return.

- Well, I think this outfit is approved… more than approved, by the way, Rosie concludes.

I quickly drop my eyes while feeling the warmth on my cheeks when I see the insistent look of Rosie on me.

I hear the curtain close and Jenny slips a new outfit to Amelia.

- You must be sincere with her as you just did… did you see her smile? At this moment, she forgot the drama she has just lived and all thanks to you, do not forget that…

I nod as she picks her basket of hands.

-Well, I’m not very useful here anymore. I’m going to finish shopping and I’ll bring them home. With the clothes, you will not really have a place to bring back everything.

- Thank you, Rosie, actually, it’s going to be complicated with the motorbike. - No problem. Are they any particular things that I have to buy maybe?

I dig in my jean pocket and give her some shopping that I took care to scribble on a paper.

- If you can buy me what is on this list…

Rosie browses the words of the eyes while smiling lightly after finishing.

- Ok, I should be able to find all that. See you later. - Thanks, again.

She disappears after one last smile and I find myself alone waiting patiently for the end of the fitting session. Amelia will try five additional outfits, some for which I will not see her out and others for which she will ask me again my opinion.

An opinion that was summed up systematically to approval on my part, because everything suited her… everything suits well to her.

After about an hour, she reappears in the white lace dress she had donned for the day. Jenny then hands her two packets of hands and I go forward immediately to seize it. I notice, however, that Amelia is concentrated on a pile of clothes that I don’t distinguish precisely on the side. - Is it you who pay, sir? - Yes, it’s me. - Owen… Amelia whispers protesting. - No discussion… Jenny smiles slightly in front of our exchange as I present my credit card. Amelia is repositioning herself by my side and waiting patiently for me to finish before giving something to Jenny… a dark blue shirt. - Do you want to add that? Because we just paid for your purchases Miss? - No, that’s apart… it’s XL, it'll have to suit you, or you want to try it? She asks me looking at me. - Amelia… it makes me happy, don’t feel obliged to… - You lost a lot of things too… and I’m sure you don’t have your famous shirt of that color anymore. You told me you only had one. - Yes, but… - So I offer it to you, it was the one I preferred and it is almost identical… so XL it will be fine? - Yes, it should be fine… She gives her credit card in turn to Jenny then slips the shirt into one of the packages. - Thank you very much, have a good day! Jenny launches us as we walk out of her outdoor shop. I’m watching Amelia as we walk down the aisles of the small market, still surprised by her attention. - You want to see something else? I finish by asking after a few steps. - No, I think we went around. I notice a telephone booth, installed in a corner of the place. - I will make a phone call. The motorbike is a few steps away, I let you join it, okay? And most importantly, stay next I don’t lose your eyes. - Fine. Give me a package, you will be less loaded. I’m actually handing her a package and staring at her as she walks away a few meters to stand near the motorbike while I enter in the telephone booth. I compose a number that I know by heart, before hearing a familiar voice while keeping my attention on Amelia. - Jackson? - Hi Owen… it feels good to hear from you. - Yes, you too, your line is always safe? - Don’t worry, I have the same devices as our old headquarters on my line so nobody can listen to us or filter the calls. Good, tell me, everything is fine? - Yes. We arrived safely yesterday… and Amelia takes over little by little… - She is going to need some time, April is very worried, you know. - Reassure her, I watch over her… - I will tell her, she is not at best either. I go to see her regularly… This detail surprises me, but I didn’t question him more. - I’m going to have to leave you, I don’t want to talk too long and Amelia is alone waiting for me. Tells April and Nathan that everything is fine. I will give news if I can quickly. - Fine, see you soon! - See you, Jackson. I hang up and notice that Amelia is turned away from me, head down to the package she put on the motorbike, visibly reconsidering her purchases. I leave the booth and walk again in front of Henry’s stall with this bouquet that automatically captures my attention. I can not help but think of the smile that I was able to trigger a few minutes earlier… and I had before me an opportunity to spark another. I concretize my idea in a few seconds while taking care to hide it behind my back. When I get closer to Amelia, my steps inform her of my presence and she immediately turns around. - Everything is fine? Can we go? - I don’t know… are you sure you have not forgotten anything? She touches her jacket to feel her wallet in her pocket and looks up at me, with a touch of misunderstanding on her face. - No, I have everything… - Yet, I think you forgot… this… I finally announced, revealing the bouquet that I hid behind me. The bouquet she had scrutinized on our arrival at the market. I look at her with attention and her reaction makes me happy: her eyes light up and a beautiful smile emerges on her lips. A smile that revives all the features of her face and gives her an almost dazzling aura. - How… well when… she stammers while finding my gaze. - It seemed to please you… I saw how you look at it just now. She stays silent for a few seconds, alternating her eyes between the flowers and my face. - Yet, I made comments on another bouquet. - Did you prefer the other? - No… no… I prefer that one. I’m just surprised you noticed. - I am attentive when you are concerned. You should know now. She seizes the bouquet and breathes the perfume of flowers for a long time. She then looks up and stares at me with that same smile. - Thank you so much… - You’re welcome… it makes me happy to see you smile… I answer her by briefly sliding two fingers against her cheek. And hope wins me at this moment. As a wish, I wanted to make and see it fulfilled very quickly. Because I was hoping that this smile was the beginning of a long series… and that soon it would be nothing more than shouts of laughter that would resonate… annihilating the crying and anxiety that still haunted her.

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Thank you for reading. 💛

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#greysanatomy #fanfic #omelia #omelia fanfiction #omeliafics #amelia shepherd #owen x amelia #amelia x owen #Owen Hunt #jackson avery #april kepner #bodyguard

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taexual · 6 years

Text

HOLIC - 8 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: some strong language + angst

words: 3.1k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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Work was awful. It tended to be this way on Tuesdays because that was usually the day when so-called high-class socialites swarmed to art galleries to purchase pieces that’d make their guests think they knew anything about art, and, on top of that, crowds of artists and photographers gathered here, trying to get meetings with every possible staff member, wanting their work exhibited here. But today was bad even by those standards.

At first, the iPad you usually used stopped working. You were informed that they were doing maintenance on the servers today but you didn’t expect the entire system to crash on you just when a particularly pompous woman asked you for more information about one of the photographers whose works she’d enjoyed at the exhibition last week.

You told her the name but she wanted more details that you couldn’t provide her with because no matter what you pressed on the damn tablet, it would only display errors.

“I’m very sorry,” you said, feeling cold sweat wash over you. An epic escalation was awaiting, you could feel it. “We’re having some technical difficulties today, if you could just wait a moment, I—”

“I think I’ve waited enough,” she responded in a thundering voice that almost made you flinch. “I came to an art gallery to buy something from you, did I not? Why am I being forced to wait when I’m not even sure I want to invest in this… artwork, at all.”

Already having learned to be patient with similar snobby attitudes, you gave her an apologetic smile.

“My apologies, ma’am, this should be fixed soon and then I can answer all questions you might have about the photographer,” you said and then tried to get rid of her by sending her to a floor you didn’t work at, “in the meanwhile, could I interest you in the photography exhibition on the second floor? The theme is—”

“I could not care less,” she cut you off again. You understood her irritation so you could forgive her for not really listening to you, but, Jesus Christ, did she have to yell? Her loud voice echoed all through the gallery. “Find me someone who can answer my questions immediately. Or better yet, find me the manager. I refuse to be treated with disrespect by incompetent staff members.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” you said, hating the endless apologies that passed your lips. You wondered if she could tell they were fake. “My manager is the owner of the gallery and he is, unfortunately, away on a business trip. I can direct you to my supervisor, though, if you’d like.”

“You better do that,” she responded, crossing her arms over her chest and nearly scratching herself with the huge, sharp-edged rings on all of her fingers. “And don’t give me attitude. I will not tolerate that.”

You didn’t realize that explaining the hierarchy of the gallery – since she was so eager to talk to someone higher up – was a form of giving her attitude, but, for the sake of not getting kicked out for bad customer service, you nodded wordlessly and guided her across the gallery to where Eva, your supervisor, was having a conversation with one of the new photographers, whose exhibition the gallery was preparing for.

“Eva,” you said, not bothering to address her in a formal way. She wasn’t much older than you and the two of you spent so much time together at work that neither of you bothered with the formalities anymore. “There’s a snobby woman ten steps behind me. She is a nightmare. The system crashed, so I can’t help her, and now she wants to talk to you.”

Eva bit her lip, not particularly happy to be dragged away from the photographer – you tried to get a look at him, but he had turned away, watching the paintings around him instead, while he waited for Eva to give him her attention again.

“Could you keep her occupied for just one moment?” she asked. “I’ll be with her in a second. I’m kind of busy right now.”

“She is a nightmare,” you repeated, emphasizing the word for more effect. “I’m sure she’ll sue us if we don’t accommodate to her wishes right away.”

Eva groaned.

“I swear this is the tenth time this had happened in the past few weeks,” she said, after excusing herself from the photographer, who – aside from being very attractive – was a lot kinder than the snotty, problematic woman. “It’s time the staff here grew some balls. You, included, by the way. It would really take some weight off my shoulders if you just found a way to deal with her without getting me involved.”

Eva – probably – didn’t mean it personally but you took offense. You couldn’t exactly intimidate the woman with your status in the gallery and she wasn’t listening to anything you tried to tell her. On top of that, her loud voice truly gave you the chills. You felt bad for her children if she had any.

Confused what to do with yourself now that you were subtly scolded, you glanced at the photographer next to you, nodded at him as a way to excuse yourself as well – Eva hadn’t asked you to keep him company, after all, and you really wanted to get out of here, anyway – and then headed to the staff room to finally inhale.

The system still wasn’t fixed when your workday came to an end and you were forced to stay up later to help the IT team test out the updates they’d attempted to install after finishing with the maintenance. They had you walk around the gallery and scan the names of the photographs and the paintings while they checked if the system recognized the names and provided the user of the program with all the information about the artwork possible.

You knew this would make your job easier in the long run, but you were completely not in the mood to spend the whole night at the gallery, hence all of the complaining the IT team had to endure from you – they got their revenge on you by constantly criticizing the way you used the tablet, though, and that didn’t really help your self-esteem.

You ended up getting home three hours later than usual and, naturally, feeling three times more exhausted and upset than usual, too. To be honest, you just wanted to jump into the shower – which, you weren’t sure if you’d even enjoy – and then go to sleep. But, aside from not knowing if the hot water was back or not – Jaebum was on the phone with someone when you got home and you haven’t parted on a good note anyway, so you didn’t ask – you also realized you had no idea if the sheets on the mattress in your room were fresh or not. You had initially planned to sleep here because you weren’t in the mood to spend another night in Jaebum’s room, no matter how comfortable his bed was, but he did have sex here last night.

Groaning because you just couldn’t relax today, you walked out of the bedroom and saw Jaebum walking out of his at the same time.

“Did you change the—”

“I called the—”

Both of you had started to talk at the same time and both stopped, watching each other for a moment or two.

“You go,” you told him then. If he had something offensive to say to you, you’d rather get it over with faster so you could spend the rest of the night sulking. You’d planned to do that anyway.

“I, uh, I called the maintenance,” he said. “They said they’ll be here on Friday at best but Monday for sure.”

You closed your eyes. “That’s next week.”

“I know,” Jaebum said. When you opened your eyes, you saw him bite his lip while avoiding your gaze.

God, you could feel an outburst coming but you made no attempts to stop it. Maybe a part of you thought he deserved to hear it after being the cause of your inner misery ever since you moved in here.

“I’ve never had a roommate before,” you said and waited until he dared to look you in the eyes. “But, I swear, you are the worst imaginable roommate in the world.”

“W-wh—”

“You shut the fucking hot water off! And why? To get back at me for getting your water bottles out of the fridge,” you were louder now. “Well, guess fucking what? You can fix the damage I’ve done within an hour the most – your stupid water can get cold again. But you—you do shit without thinking about the consequences, you broke my—”

“I let you sleep in my room!” Jaebum cut you off, your aggression brushing off on him as he threw his hands in the air. “I tried to make it up to you for that.”

“I left you no choice the first night,” you disagreed. “And it doesn’t even matter. Does it look like I want to sleep in your room? I’m sort of left with no other option since I still don’t have a proper bed.”

He was going to object – the first syllables of his counter-argument were already at the tip of his tongue – but then you pushed past him into his bedroom. There was no point in asking him if he’d changed the sheets of your bed. You weren’t going to sleep there.

“But since you’re obviously so kind to me,” you said, glancing at him over your shoulder one more time. “I’ll be sleeping here again.”

He was taken aback for a moment after you slammed the door of his bedroom in his face – if he wasn’t so angry, he’d have admitted: this was a real power move – but then he tried knocking. Gently at first, but harsher after you didn’t react and didn’t open the door.

“Jesus, I’ll fix your damn bed!” he yelled at you through the door. “Just lose the fucking attitude and talk to me like a normal person. I was trying to be nice to you.”

The attitude, again. First, the rich, snobby bitch at the gallery insisted you gave her attitude for just doing your job. Then Eva countered by saying you don’t even have an attitude at all, or else she wouldn’t have to do your job for you. And now Jaebum was accusing you of the same thing even though you just told him the truth; not in a particularly nice way, but you had to put it out there.

After you simmered down, though, – while staring at the books piled by the wall in front of Jaebum’s bed for a whole hour, – you realized that if you hadn’t let the comments made at work get to you this badly, you wouldn’t have bitten Jaebum’s head off. Maybe he deserved that for all of the snarky comments he’d said and the things he’d done, but he was truly trying to have a normal conversation with you today, so maybe you should have been more understanding.

Sure, you’ve argued with him this morning – it got kind of bad, really – but you were still forced to live him and being civil with each other would have surely made this experience appear less like a torture.

Or maybe, another part of your brain disagreed, you should have truly let him know that he was not going to get away with everything by just being nice to you. Maybe you should have slapped him, too, for more effect.

As two sides of your brain gnawed at each other, arguing about what you should have done and said, you heard another knock on the door of the bedroom. It didn’t take a genius to guess who was behind the door, but you still hesitated before opening it because you weren’t sure how to act.

You did feel guilty about the outburst in the hallway. You’d always been a firm believer that the best way to resolve any issue was to have a calm discussion about it; it’s just that sometimes, you acted before you allowed yourself to think.

Maybe you’d feel better with yourself if you didn’t yell at Jaebum after you opened the door. So, you just stared at him.

He stared back, truly having expected you to scream at him. He had prepared what to say to you but he forgot all of that when you just looked at him, no words leaving your lips.

“Uh…” he said, lifting the plate in his hands slightly. “I brought cupcakes.”

Not having expected that – the two of you were now, clearly, involved in a wordless fight which one could surprise the other one better, – you looked down at the chocolate treats on the plate in his hands. “So you have. Are those the ones Lily brought over?”

You had moved away from the door slightly – Jaebum wasn’t sure if you did that consciously, though – and he slipped into the room. After you didn’t object against him being in your personal space – even though, technically, this room was his – he nodded with a small smile.

“I hadn’t slept with her when she brought them, though,” he said, putting the plate on the bed and sitting down next to it. “So, I’m sure they’re not poisoned.”

You let out a sound that was a mix between a sigh and a chuckle and sat down on the other side of the plate. You didn’t feel like talking about the way he’d handled everything with Lily. Actually, you couldn’t even remember why you were so upset about it, in the first place. Jaebum and Lily’s relationship – or lack thereof – wasn’t really your business. Maybe you’d allowed your personal feelings to get in the way and that’s why you yelled at him this morning. And this afternoon.

Both of you took a cupcake off the plate each and, after unwrapping it, began to eat. You stayed quiet for the most part, but when the cupcakes were halfway finished, you sighed again.

“Sorry for bursting out like that when I got home,” you said, choosing to only apologize for the most recent fight. A small part of you still considered Jaebum worthy of the harsh words you’ve said to him after Lily had left. “I had a long day at work.”

Jaebum nodded as a way of accepting your apology but didn’t make a big deal out of it, asking instead, “what happened?”

“It wasn’t… I guess it wasn’t truly horrible,” you said. “I’m just sensitive to that sort of stuff, maybe. I can’t be myself when I work – I’m not sure anyone can – so that means I can’t stand up for myself, either. I just have to let the visitors and even my superiors walk over me.”

“Yeah, that sucks,” Jaebum nodded. “You have to put up with every degrading thing they say if you want to keep the job.”

“Exactly.”

“I laughed mid-track at my station today,” he said then and you looked at him, curiously. “I didn’t realize the mic was on when I was reading a text on my phone during one of the songs, and I just burst into laughter before a part of me went, oh, but wait… I don’t remember pressing the button.”

You tried to gasp but just the image he put in your mind made you chuckle. “Did you boss realize?”

“No, he wasn’t working today, thank God,” he said, smiling, too, now that this got you to laugh however softly. “I would have been fired for sure. He’s a no-bullshit sort of fellow.”

“I’d have loved to hear that, though,” you said. “What time is your show?”

You already knew Jaebum worked at a radio station because he’d mentioned that during one of your late-night conversations back when you still thought he was a girl, and he thought you were a guy. He never elaborated much – and you didn’t really push – so you found yourself rather excited to find out a little more about him. He was starting to feel like Def to you again.

“Two to four,” he said, explaining why he was still at home most mornings. “It’s this really uncomfortable time because most people are already done with lunch but not done with their work day yet, so no one really listens to the radio at this time.”

“What do you do there?” you asked. “I mean, what is your show about?”

“Up-and-coming artists,” he said, sounding unusually sad. “They’re not really that, though. I just basically play underrated songs that no one knows. People send them to me – well, not to me, personally, but to the radio station – and I pick the ones I like the most and play them. It takes me a while to get through all the Soundcloud mixtapes we get sent, but I don’t mind. I don’t get to talk a lot during the show.”

“I can imagine how many days you make by doing this,” you said and Jaebum gave you a confused look, so you explained, “well, I think when someone hears their song on an actual radio, they really lose their shit, you know what I mean? It doesn’t matter to them what time the radio show is on. They’re just excited to hear their song playing and they’re probably very grateful to whoever chose it. You’re the reason for their happiness.”

“Huh,” Jaebum looked away from you, a slight rosy shade adorning his cheeks. “I-I forget that sometimes. The job—it’s all mechanical. I listen to music without thinking much of the artist, but you know what? You’re right. If it was my song playing there, I’d be losing my shit as you put it.”

You snickered at that but then an idea hit you. “Why don’t you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Play your own song at the radio,” you said, reminding him – and yourself, too – that the two of you knew more about each other than you had pretended to know for the sake of acting as hateful roommates to each other. You weren’t really complete strangers to each other, after all.

“Oh, man, no,” he shook his head, his eyes scanning the room wildly for a way to change the topic. He was like this when it came to his music. He refused to talk about it overly much over texts but he was even worse in real life. “Anyway, I came here to make amends and maybe make you feel better about your day at work. Shocking, yeah? But, look what happened: it’s you comforting me.”

You laughed. “Get out of my room before we actually bond.”

He laughed at this, too, but then stopped, “oh, well, technically, this is my room.”

“Oh, I’m not going back to sleep in my room,” you said. “You had sex there, that mattress is… marked.”

“Oh, God,” he visibly cringed at your choice of wording. “I changed the sheets, I’m not some animal.”

You chuckled, but your mind was starting to wander. Now that you’d finished eating Lily’s cupcakes and the topic switched to Jaebum and Lily’s previous activities, you couldn’t help but remember Jaebum’s scared face when you told him a girl had been knocking on your door.

And then, before you could think twice about it, you asked, “hey. Remember, the other day, when Lily first came over?”

“Yeah?”

“When I told you that there was a girl behind the door, your face kind of…” you couldn’t find a way to describe it properly but Jaebum seemed to understand what you were getting at as he looked away, his face paling slightly again. “Uh, what was that about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s nothing,” he tried to dismiss it. “I just… for a moment, I thought it could have been my ex-girlfriend. She’d reached out to me recently but I didn’t reply and I thought she might have found where I lived.”

Oh, this was loaded. You didn’t know Jaebum had a clearly problematic ex, but, more than that, you had no idea she was trying to get back together with him and he was, evidently, terrified of that. There was so much you wanted to ask him but before you opened your mouth, he stood up from the bed, taking the empty plate with him.

“Anyway,” he said in a somewhat forceful way as if he was letting you know that you weren’t going to discuss this topic further. “I’m going to go to bed. Well, your bed. You sleep here.”

You tried to smile despite the change of topic. “You don’t mind that?”

“No,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I don’t.”

chapter directory

459 notes · View notes

heartthrobcityimagine · 6 years

Text

Who Is This??/ Part 6/ Noah Centineo

A/N: WOO! It’s Friday! Like I said earlier in the week I am going to try to have regular schedule of updating on Fridays! Here is part 6! It is more dramatic then previous parts. Couldn’t just have all rainbows and sunshine now could we?

Warnings: as always Language. Sexual content, suicide topics/ triggers, sexual assault topics.

AWAY WE GO!

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Where we left off in part 5:

You reluctantly get out of bed and walk to the door.Sighing, you really needed to install a peephole. It was the first thing Jace had told you when you moved in. He said incase "any fuckboys try to raid you”. You had laughed at the time but right about now you were regretting not listening to him.

You slowly open the door, hoping and praying that it wasn’t Tye. Your sad eyes meet blazing ones filled with anger and concern.

“Noah?”

=============================================================

He walks in and closes the door behind him. Immediately wrapping his arms around you. One arm wraps around your shoulders as the other finds its way up into your hair holding your head against his chest. Your heart skips, tears spring to your eyes, you hadn't meant to ruin his night.

Your body is racked with the force of your emotions hitting you all at once. Enraged, you were undeniably enraged that Tye would even think of showing up again once you were finally beginning to move on with your life. Terrified, for the way you found yourself hopelessly falling for Noah, he was a genuinely caring human being that made it so damn hard not to fall for him. Fearful, that you would end up in the same position as a year ago. Warm, so irrevocably warm and safe but for the life of you the dread and doubts you had kept screaming in your head. And devastated. Devastated because you didn't think you could do this again. How could you give away a part of you that you had just been able to recover, no matter how much of it already belonged to Noah. With a hand on his chest you gently push him away.

His eyes bore straight into yours. Furrowed brows and deep worry lines on his face has you feeling dismayed. You felt awful that he had spent what was supposed to be a fun night worrying over you.

" Are you okay? What the fuck happened? You didn't answer any of my call or texts, then Jace showed up without you. Refusing to tell me what happened of course, just that you weren't coming. Then when you didn't answer anything I got worried and just wanted to see you, make sure you were okay...” he trails.

You take a deep breath and sigh. You deliberated internally, if you told Noah the truth he would never look at you the same.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, anxiety building and pulsing through your body. Tightness shoots across your chest constricting your lungs, preventing you from breathing. Your palms become clammy, your nails digging into them. Your breathing becomes erratic as you start to hyperventilate.

Noah looks on with wide eyes at the internal battle your were having with your body. You desperately try to take deep breaths but your lungs felt deflated. Your knees buckle and he reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you before you could hit the ground. He brings you both down to the floor, you sitting and him kneeling over you.

Your hands grip his shirt and bury your face into his chest, trying to calm yourself. His scent wafting through your nostrils. He smelt like cedarwood and pines and fresh linen. It was a combination you would commit to memory.

Your chest is harrowed with sobs and quick inhales desperately trying to grasp any air you could get. His hand is shaky as it runs through your hair. His head lays softly against yours, whispering calming words into the tense air. His voice may have been calm but the pounding under his chest gave away that he was just as terrified as you. He gently moves your head and places his forehead against yours, his thumbs coming up to wipe away the tears that were slowly streaming down your face.

"Baby, you have to breath for me please," he says desperately.

"I'm......" a deep wheeze exits your chest as another round of sobs breaks through.

"Baby, whatever is going on I don’t give a shit. You don't have to tell me if that's what you're so worked up about. Please just breathe with me, please," he pleads.

You nod your head and open your red rimmed, clinched eyes, staring into his. You focus on his slowly rising chest trying to sync your breaths with his.

You focus on way the light hits his eyes making the golden streaks in his eyes shine. Your focus on the warmth radiating from his hands on your cheeks down your body. You focus on the way his nose is perfectly aligned with your and if you tilted your head just a little his lips would be connected with yours.

Gradually your breathing slows to match his and he leans back slightly, eyes flickering from your eyes to your reddened cheeks to your lips and back again. With his hands still holding your cheeks he leans back down and places a swift kiss to your lips.

" You alright?"

"Yeah," you whisper. "I'm okay." You reassure him.

You slowly stand up, leaving him kneeling on the floor and sit on the couch. He slowly stands and follow behind you, still confused as to what in the hell was going on. He sits down beside you taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently against the back of it.

As much as you hated to, you needed to put some space between the two of you. You gently remove your hand from his and turn so you were facing him. You pick at the thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing.Realizing that this entire time you had no pants on.

Red flashes to your face and you quickly grab the blanket on the back of the couch throwing it across your lap. A small smirk on Noah's face. He hadn't even payed attention to what you had on, he was too worried.

"So, do you want to tell me what happened? If not it's fine. I'm content to sit here and just cuddle all night."

You give him a small smile, you never met a boy who loved to cuddle as much as he did but. if you were going to end this he at least deserved to know why.

You take a deep shaky breath. " Umm... okay. Where do I start." he gives you an encouraging smile, making what you were about to do and say that much worse. Damn him for being amazing.

" Umm. So, about 3 years ago I met a guy named Tye Saunders at a party. I had just got into college."

You would never forget that night. You had gone to a party in downtown L.A. with Jace. Tye had been with his obnoxious group of friends hitting on any girl they had a chance too. You should have known then that being involved with him would not turn out well, but he was attractive and charming, what could you say?

" We dated for about a year. It was great for the most part. He studies drama at the college across the way from mine. It worked out well up until he wanted to have sex. I refused, I wanted to wait until we had been together for a while. I had never been with anyone up until that point and just wanted it to mean something you know?" He nodded his head, indicating he understood and was listening.

" Well he had his friend’s girlfriends try to convince me it was fine and everyone in their group had already had sex so it was no big deal for us to. It was probably a month or so after I refused to sleep with him when he started to become rough. He would push me into walls, pull my hair, I had bruises that made me wear long sleeves in the middle of summer. No one really noticed or didn’t say anything if they did. I was scared to leave, he had been threatening that he would have his dad, who is a big shot music producer apparently call the school and basically disgrace my name. I kept hoping it would get better and so I did the only thing I could think of that would make him stop. I finally gave in."

" When I first told him I would sleep with him he was overly happy. He took me out for this really nice dinner, bought me drinks all night. I was happy because for one night he wasn't being abusive. " Noah's fist were clenched, wringing around each other, anger clearly evident on his face.

You continued, " I think I had about 6-7 drinks when I started to feel sick obviously but he wouldn't let me slow down. Demanding I take shot after shot, his grip would get tighter every time I complained. By the time he decided it was enough the room was spinning. At some point I blacked out. I woke up the next morning in my bed with a massive hangover, sore, with my underwear on and no sign of Tye. I cried for days, thinking of what I had done. I was so ashamed." Noah's anger only grew, his chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to keep himself quiet so you could finish.

" It was probably a week or two later when I got this really strange email from some anonymous sender. It had pictures attached. I was really confused so I opened it and attached was pictures of me on the bed from that night, drunk and then passed out."

"Initially, I had thought it was Tye being the dick he is hanging something else over my head until I seen that the email was forwarded to my entire school, including the faculty. Tye had obviously denied sending them and said that I consented to him taking the photos but swore he would never send them and that I passed out before we could do anything, so he kept them just in case." By this point Noah was fuming and couldn't hold in his thoughts any longer.

" What the actual fuck?? Please tell me you reported it?"

You shook your head sadly. " I tried to, the cop that took my statement said that it would be a he said she said case and I was not likely to win but that I could get a restraining order but it would only be temporary. So I got one for the longest amount which was right at a year and a half. After that Jace was all I had. I spiraled down. 6 months into the restraining order Tye contacted me, telling me that he would do anything to be with me and that if I didn't want to be with him then I could just kill myself because no one would want me after everyone had seen the pictures. I had thought about what he said and I tried. I took an extreme amount of medications but thankfully Jace found me in time and saved me."

He was shaking with fury at how someone could get away with something so heinous and how little Tye valued your life.

You then explained how Tye showed up at your door tonight and why you weren't at the party.

" I'm really sorry Noah. I never meant to ruin your night, I really didn't."

"Are you kidding me?" he exasperates. " What do you have to apologize for? After all of that shit you're allowed to be upset baby I just wish you would have told me sooner." He says sadly.

You shake your head sadly, " Noah, I think we need to talk. I think that this is moving way too quickly. I can't put myself in this position again. I truly care about you I really do." He had no clue just how much this was breaking your heart as it was his.

" What are you saying?"

" I mean technically we aren't even together, I don't even know what this is." You say gesturing between yourself and him.

Tears start flow down your face. " I think I've fallen for you way too fast and way too hard. I want this, I really do. But I'm so terrified of losing myself." you tell him with a shaky voice.

He takes a deep shaky breath, his eyes were glassy and beginning to become red rimmed, resembling your own. He stands slowly, making your heart break even further. He pulls yours hands so you were standing in front of him. You head was hung low, you couldn't look him in eyes. His arm wraps around your waist and he tilts your chin up gently meeting his gaze.

" Please don't do this." You heart cracks, his voice was completely broken, almost making you change your mind.

Tears were streaming down your face rapidly. Realizing you weren't going to change your mind he places a soft kiss to your wet cheek. Your eyes flutter shut as harder sobs jolt your body. He lets go of you and walks to your door.

With a deep sigh he opens the door, just as he goes to walk out he turns to you,

" I can't leave without you knowing that I've fallen too." WIth that he closes your door, leaving you to collapse back on the couch and wallow in your tears.

=============================================================

Well, there is part 6! Please let me know what you think. I’m sorry if it is a little too hard for some people, I know some of the topics can be triggering and upsetting.

Please if you need to talk about anything feel free to message me. Also, if you or anyone you know is contemplating hurting themselves the hotline number is 1-800-273-8255. They are available 24 hours a day for anyone.

If you or anyone you know has had any sex crime committed please give call the hotline 1-800-656-4673. You are not alone and there is help. You can be heard.

Part 7

#noah centineo #noah centineo imagine #noah x reader #noah centineo x reader #noah x reader imagine #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky imagine #peter x reader #peter kavinsky x reader #tatbilb #to all the boys i've loved before #sbial #jamey #helpline #Who Is this??#Part6 #noah centineo x reader imagine #noahxreader

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lovelybones81 · 5 years

Text

Unthinkable *updated 12/15*

Summary: Seven years, three movies, two people, one story. But before they can get their happily ever after, Sebastian Stan and Camille Solis must learn to trust in each other and in themselves, before allowing the unthinkable to happen.

Warnings: Fluff, future smut, Language, Angst, mental health, WOC lead character, Slow Burn

Masterlist link Unthinkable

Rating: NC-17

**Hi all, here is the next installment! I believe this is my longest, but I promise its so worth it! xoxo Ps. When I was writing, this is the Sebastian I pictured in my head! ;)

Chapter 20 Wildest Dreams

Out in an unknown place Kinda like that feels You came in my life and held me here Just in the nick of time When I lacked the will To keep on moving on You've been in my dreams, but from now Couldn't figure out the reasons I kept asking God why And now I'm receiving abundance of love And I get it, But never could imagine it, in my wildest dreams...

February 2011

Studio City, CA

“You didn’t have to dress up for me.” Sebastian greeted sarcastically the moment Camille opened the front door.

Taking the candy sucker out of her mouth, she glanced down at her attire. She was in a pair of blue sweat pants and an old high school t-shirt she wore only around the house and messy hair pulled up in a bun at the top of her head. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t dressed in the best clothes, but it was Sunday night. Her period had just started, she been cramping all of day and hadn’t felt like leaving the house. She glanced back up at Sebastian with a slight smirk. “I had plan on wearing my garter belt and lacy bra but I thought it would be too uncomfortable.” Shrugging innocently and putting the sucker back in her mouth for effect.

Sebastian’s mouth slacked for a split moment at her remark but he quickly recuperated, letting his eyes linger up and down her body.

“What?” She asked, trying to push that tingle between her legs away at the way he was staring her down.

He met her gaze and responded. “I just got an image of you wearing what you just described.” Licking his bottom lip almost sensually.

Damn it. He always had a comeback! Sneaky bastard. But instead Camille scowled, grabbing the door as if she was about to close it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You started it!” he quickly exclaimed with a chuckle. “Besides-are you really going to make me leave? I bring pizza!”

Of course she wasn’t really going to close the door on him, yet pretended to think about it. She raised an eyebrow. “Pepperoni?”

“Yes.”

“And pineapple?”

Sebastian scrunched up his nose. “Yes, you weirdo.”

Camille wrinkled her forehead at his remark. Apparently it was weird to him that she liked pineapple on pizza. Typically when they shared pizza, they always ordered half of what each wanted. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Camille took a step back gesturing for him to come inside. Sebastian grinned from ear to ear before closing the door behind him. Without saying another word, Camille moseyed toward the kitchen, Sebastian in toe.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked once they set foot into the kitchen. “Besides that sucker in your mouth.” He added smugly.

“Yesss.” Camille said with a small nod, throwing the now lonely stick in the trash can. “I’ve had cookies and chips as well.” She mumbled, then quickly asked. “Wine or beer?”

“Wines fine.” He answered, setting the pizza box on the countertop. “So you’ve had junk food?” he probed with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh yeah, because pizza is just as healthy.” Camille mocked, taking two clean wine glasses out of the top cabinet, the bottle of red wine under her arm. She made her way toward him and the pizza, placing the wine and glasses down.

“I never said it was healthy.” Sebastian protested.

Camille quickly became distracted, her eyes landing on book on top of the pizza box. Tilting her head, she read the title out loud. “Picnic.”

“Huh? What?” Sebastian said, taking the cork out of the bottle.

“I was just reading the title of this book.”

“Oh yeah, I stopped by a book store for it.” He explained, pouring wine into each glass. “It’s a play actually, underneath is the script or screenplay my manager gave me earlier to look over. Apparently they are wanting to revive it on Broadway.”

“And Emily thought you would be a good fit for it?” Camille supplied with a warm smile, taking both glasses of wine and nodding toward the living for him to follow.

His cheeks had turned a shade of pink as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I guess so.” Following after her, and putting the pizza box on the coffee table in front of them.

“Why Mr. Stan, I believe you’re blushing.” She teased, handing his wine over.

“Shut up. I’m not.” He muttered, carefully placing the book and script next to him before opening the pizza box and quickly shoving it into his mouth, chewing for a few moments.

Camille watched carefully, trying to read him. She couldn’t help but notice his hair had grown out a bit longer from the last time she had seen him, and the 5’ o’clock shadow beard he had going on at the moment was doing things to her. Damn, he really did have a beautiful face. She hadn’t necessarily forgotten how beautiful, but it had been almost a month a half since the last time they had seen each other and it was nice to have a refresher of it.

The holiday season had come and gone and the New Year had brought on a busy schedule for the both of them. Camille had been so swamped with work and the new project Liz had assigned her to, she had barely got a chance to truly enjoy the holidays, let alone really spend time with Sebastian. The same could be said about him of course, with auditions in New York and Los Angeles, he barely had time to breath. Even when he was in Los Angeles the last few times, they had only been able to see each other 3 times since Christmas. Which Camille had come to recognize was their new normal, seeing each other when they could, but keeping in contact through phone/text and even email.

Camille grinned widely before reaching for a slice of pizza. “Yes, you are…” she said in a song-song voice. Sebastian glowered, but didn’t say a word. “What part would you be playing?”

“I haven’t even audition yet.” He protested, taking a large bite of his slice.

She chewed a few times, then said in a knowing tone. “But when you do and you get the part, who would you be playing?”

Sebastian let out a small snort. “Your confidence in me is flattering.” He tried to joke. “They wouldn’t start production for another year or so.” He explained, leaning back against the comfortable cushion. “But the character I would be auditioning for is named Hal Carter.” Camille took another bite, waiting expectantly for him to continue. Sebastian squinted his eyes playfully at her. “You want me to elaborate?”

Camille only nodded.

Clearing his throat, he sat up straight again. “From what I’ve read so far- he is supposed to be sort of a drifter who isn’t sure of where he belongs and gets invited to a Labor Day picnic by a former college roommate…and I guess causes havoc in the lives of the people in the small town. Especially the women.” He stated, nervously running his fingers through one side of his hair.

He was adorable when he was unsure of things. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips, watching him. “Would I be invited to the grand opening? On Broadway?” she teased.

He tossed his head back and let out a laugh. “Darlin, I haven’t even auditioned yet. Nothing is definite. It’s just pure talk right now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short Sebby.” Camille stated, gently tapping his nose with her finger. “And don’t think that this will count as you taking me to a Broadway show.” She added, prompting that he still owed her a show.

Rolling his eyes, he took the last bite of his slice. “Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t say no to Liz. You had an opportunity to come see me last month but you turned it down.” He reminded with a shrug.

Camille glared and defended. “You know I couldn’t leave her hanging with all those new people!” Referring to last minute supervision job Liz had her do a few weeks ago, while Liz flew down to New Zealand to sign the rest of the legal paperwork for the new job they had just been contracted to do.

Sebastian chuckled lowly. “Dragoste, I know.” Trying to hold in his snickers. “I was just trying to get a rise out of you.” He confessed with a wink. “You think after all this time I couldn’t still do it...but here we are.”

Reaching for her glass of wine, Camille scowled. “You’re a pain.” Bringing the glass to her lips.

“Maybe so, but you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

“You think that wouldn’t you?” She snapped back with a smug look and taking another long swig of wine. Shaking his head, Sebastian snorted back his laugh reaching for his own glass. Camille felt a small smile tug on her lips at his laughter. Sigh. Fine. She couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. New York had been a perfect example of that.

For the next couple of hours they ate, drank and caught up on each other’s daily routine/life. Even though they had lunch the day before, they really did not get the chance to talk as they were surrounded by their friends. (Liz, Natalie, Charles and Will). Camille had suggested (mostly guilt tripped) him into coming over and hanging out before he flew back out Monday morning.

Resting the back of her head on the fluffy pillows, Camille listened to him talk about his last few auditions and meetings. She loved hearing him get all excited about his future endeavors when he spoke. His whole face would light up and his facial expressions gave away how much he loved what he did, regardless of the long trips.

“How’s the wedding planning going?” Sebastian asked, after he had finished telling her about his last audition.

Camille rolled her eyes and groaned before putting an arm over her face. “Don’t ask.”

“That bad?” he asked with a chuckle.

“The wedding is 3 weeks away and they are both driving me crazy! Which is why I suggested Sam drive up to San Francisco to keep an eye on things. Because they’ve been stressing me out with all their bickering. I know it’s just because they both want things to be perfect. And I get it. But being apart for a while before the wedding might be good for them.”

“I was wondering why Sam didn’t join us yesterday.”

Camille couldn’t help but let out an evil giggle, removing the arm from her face to look at him. “Because I sent her away. Well okay…I put the idea in their head.”

“Where’s Natalie right now?”

“She had to go and make sure the table settings are what they ordered. She should be back here in a bit.” Lifting her head up, she asked. “How’s Georgeta?” with a huge smile, changing the subject.

Sebastian grinned back. “Good. She just got back from a trip to Washington-which is a big deal for her because you know she isn’t much of a fan of traveling.” His eyes grew wide. “Which reminds me, she sent a box of German chocolate with me to give to you.” His eyebrows knitted together. “Shit, I thought I brought it in with me…” he mused. “I must have left it in the car.” Pushing himself up from couch. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Camille said after him, as he made his way to the front door. Following his lead, she stood up and reached for the empty pizza box, and almost empty wine bottle. She turned in the direction of the kitchen then abruptly stopped, pressing her lips together to reach back out for the book and script Sebastian had left on the couch. She couldn’t help it-she was curious and also had a feeling Sebastian was not sharing the whole story with her.

She reached for Tupperware in one of the cabinets and placed the remaining couple of pieces of pizza in them, before sticking it in the fridge. Once she had finished, her fingers reached for the small paperback book and began to skim through it, reading a few couple of pages. After a few moments, she placed the book down and grasped the script book, flipping through it as well.

“Did you drink the rest of the wine?” she heard Sebastian asked teasingly, making her jump a bit at the sound of his voice.

With the script still in hand, Camille looked over her shoulder, she must have been so enthralled in reading because Sebastian was walking toward her with both wine glasses in hand. She didn’t even hear him walk back inside.

“What did you do?” He asked cautiously.

Camille blinked innocently. “What do you mean?”

Pointing one finger accusingly he answered. “You’re eyes always get all big when you’re up to something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Turning her attention back the script. “Although you could have mentioned that the part you’re going to be playing is kind of the lead.” She accused nonchalantly, flipping through it once again. “This would be so great!” She added excitedly.

Sebastian sat the empty glasses on the counter, leaning his whole body close to her. “I should just make you my publicist with all this hype you’re giving me.”

“I would make an awesome publicist-thank you very much.”

“It doesn’t pay too well.” Sebastian deadpanned, at the same time placing the box of German chocolate in front of her face. Grinning from ear to ear. “But I do provide chocolate.” He added quickly, shaking the box for effect.

“Your mom is too sweet.” Camille said, her heart warming up at how thoughtful Georgeta was with her.

“She seems to like you.” Sebastian answered with a shrug. “I don’t know why...” he muttered, looking innocently at her.

“Hmm, probably because I have to deal with the likings of you.” Camille sassed back, reaching out for the box but Sebastian was quicker and moved it from her reach. “Sebastian...!” she whined.

“You’re mean.” He said, feigning a look of hurt.

“Maybe so, but you wouldn’t want me any other way.” Mockingly repeating the words from earlier back to him.

Sebastian stuck his tongue out, but opened the box of chocolate and asked instead. “So- what do you think of the play?” Offering her a piece of chocolate.

“From what I’ve what I was able to read?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a solid story. And Hal’s character would be perfect for you.” Taking a piece of chocolate into her mouth before sitting down on the bar stool closest to the middle kitchen island.

“Emily wants me to find a few scenes I like so I can use them for my audition.” He explained, taking another piece of chocolate into his mouth. “Was there anything in there that caught your eye?” he asked.

Camille glanced through a couple of pages, while her other free hand reached blindly for another piece of the delicious chocolate. “Hmm. I did see a few…” she mused, trying to find it again. After a few moments of silence, she gasped unexpectedly.

“What?” Sebastian said in an alarmed voice, pouring the rest of the wine for each of them.

“I can run lines with you!” She answered a little too excitedly, her face beaming.

He scrunched up his nose. “You want to run lines with me?” he repeated slowly.

“Sure, why not?” she said with a light shrug. Sebastian opened his mouth, then quickly snapped it shut again as if trying to decide what to say. “I mean if you want to…” Camille added, all of sudden feeling a bit self-conscious.

“No-I mean…yeah we can.” Rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“But…?” Camille pushed.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “I guess I’m just a bit nervous, since we’ve never done that before.”

Camille put two and two together. “Sebastian-did you forget that we worked together and that I’ve seen you act on a set of a movie before?” And at the same time she pulled her hair out of the bun, it was starting to give her a headache.

“Well yeah-but that was after I had gotten the part and stuff.” He said lamely. They didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Camille watched him carefully as he tried to process. He finally spoke. “But I guess it would be good to have someone to bounce the lines off of. Especially since I’ll be meeting with them this coming Tuesday.” He grinned up at her. “Okay, Ms. Broadway- which scene should we do first?” he asked jokingly.

They made their way back toward the living room and for the next 30 minutes or so, they found a few scenes they both thought would be great for him to try. Camille found herself completely enamored by him as they began to read some of the scenes out loud. While she had to keep looking down at her lines (while taking sips of wine in between of course) Sebastian seemed to pick up on Hal’s lines pretty quickly.

He really was something to watch. This was his craft and it only made Camille admire him even more.

“Camille?”

She blinked out of her thoughts. “Huh? What?”

He chuckled. “Where you go? It’s your line.” Taking his own sip of wine.

Where she go? Oh she was just drooling over him that’s all. Seeing him this way made him even more attractive. Damn it.

“S-sorry.” She stammered. Hoping he hadn’t caught on. “Um where were we?” She asked clearing her throat nervously.

“Well Madge,” Sebastian started referring to her as one of the character of the play. “I just finished telling you I was a bum.” He said with a shy smile.

Camille quickly looked down at the script and fed him the next line. This went on for the next few minutes. And again she found herself in awe on how quick he could turn it on and not be Sebastian for a part. But she pushed through and watched him give his next line:

Hal: Baby, are you cryin?

Madge: Just a little.

Hal: Why?

Madge: I don’t know.

Hal: You almost got me doing it.

Madge: It’s not because I’m unhappy, really.

Camille took the moment to reach back out and take the last bit of wine down. She glanced back at him and felt the air almost leave her lungs at how intently he was looking back at her. He continued with his next line:

Hal: Same here, I’m not unhappy.

Madge: It’s just that-

Hal: Well...kiss me goodnight anyway, will you?

Camille felt her heart began to race faster all of a sudden. She licked her bottom lip and said the next line:

Madge: If you promise not to hold me?

Sebastian had stepped closer now, hands behind his back. He continued:

Hal: Yeah, I promise. I’ll keep my hands at my side. See?

Camille swallowed the lump in her throat. Unsure if she could speak. Taking in a large breath, she said the next line:

Madge: Now, I’ll kiss you.

She involuntarily leaned forward, and he did the same.

“What’s next?” Sebastian whispered.

She licked her bottom lip nervously trying to find the words. The room had also gotten a few degrees hotter. “Madge is supposed to kiss Hal…” She trailed off.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded blankly in agreement, unable to make any movement. She wasn't sure of what she was doing, but she knew she wasn't ready for this little moment to end. It was like a magnetic pull. A magnetic pull she had not been able to understand after all these months. The line once again a blur. Any panic she had felt earlier about them evaporated as he leaned in closer. He seemed to sense it too. It was just them now. She didn't care about anything else at that moment.

Camille froze as his mouth touched hers. Her chin jerked up and her eyes met his. The realization of what was about to happen, sinking in. “You promised to keep your hands next to you.” She reminded, trying to keep the mood light. "I mean-" she stopped herself.

“Hal promised that.” Sebastian answered back not breaking his gaze. She braced herself, as she waited for him to pull away and tell her it was a mistake. “Me on the other hand…”

What she got was slow and sneaky. His lips were smooth and cool. Despite being unhurried, there was nothing tentative about the way he angled his mouth over hers, then slid his tongue inside before she had a chance to change her mind. There was just a second, when Camille thought he would stop if she told him to. But the unbelievable sensuality of his kiss made her realize that wasn't what she wanted. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him back down with her, his fingers gripped one side of her hip, his tongue in her mouth, her insides melting like chocolate.

After several heart-racing moments he broke his lip lock, leaving Camille limp and dizzy. She blinked him back into focus, as the reality of what just happen hit the pit of her stomach. But unlike before when the possibility or thought of kissing him scared her, this time it didn't bring any anxiety or panic, instead she felt relatively calm. “You didn’t keep your promise." she murmured jokingly.

“I didn’t make that promise.” Sebastian said hoarsely.

Camille bit on her top lip, the feel of his lips still making her mouth tingle. Her mind was still whirling at what just happened. “That….was-was-.” unable to put sentences together.

“Overdue?” Sebastian offered with a weak smile, pressing his forehead against hers. She shivered as his fingers moved underneath her oversize shirt, his fingertips grazing her bare skin.

"Completely." she whispered, unwrapping her arms from around his neck.

Sebastian chuckled. "Yeah." He tunneled his fingers through her loose curls, drawing her face up, bringing her flush against his body. Body stiff, she lifted her head, her eyes shadowed by her long lashes. "Is this okay though?" he asked in an almost panicked voice.

Nicole lips parted and her eyes fluttered closed, nodding. “Y-yeah…yes…” she breathed.

“Okay, I just don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want-.”

“Sebastian.” Camille interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” She demanded softly.

Sebastian closed the gap, kissing her once again. She melted into his arms and clanged to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her body molding against his as she allowed his invasion. His mouth moved over hers and he caught her lower lip, tasting the inside of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Camille moved against him, her hands coming up to comb through his hair as she nipped his upper lip between her teeth, then laved the sting with her tongue. He groaned in appreciation.

The simple act of kissing Sebastian was stunningly arousing, but then again Camille figured it would be. She didn't want to stop. They hadn't planned on doing this. They were only supposed to be reading lines. She could have pulled away, but the thought had lasted only a split second. And instead of showing she was in control he now had her wrapped in his arms and she was kissing him back and demanding more.

She made an aggressive sound in the back of her throat as she arched her soft body full against him and slanted her mouth against his, changing the tempo and the rhythm of the kiss. She felt the warm caress of his palm against her face as he brushed her cheek with his hand. His touch more intimate than the kiss. Holding her firmly against him, he tangled his fingers in her hair again, capturing her moan on his tongue.

Somehow, someway they had moved and now Camille felt the back of her legs touch what she assumed was the side of the couch. As if struggling for control, Sebastian gently pulled away from her. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t want this to end. She needed more of his kisses. They were breathing new life into her.

He said her name. It sounded so far away. She shivered when his hands rubbed her arms up and down. She opened her eyes, still unfocused.

“God, your lips...” Sebastian literally groaned.

“Hmm? What?”

“So swollen baby.”

A small whine left her mouth, but answered. “It’s your fault.”

“I know and I’m here for it.” Sebastian uttered. “So fucking here for it...” trailing off and kissing her again.

Camille thanked the clouds above at how in sync they were. Because just like her, he seemed to not want to rush it, because they knew the moment that happened something would trigger them back to reality. And she didn’t want to go there just yet. So instead he employed a good old fashioned make-out session, no rushing, no groping, just kissing slow and easy, like when they were teenagers and kissing was enough to satisfy.

It was almost as they were floating, but they managed to push themselves unto the couch behind them. She relaxed beneath him.

“Sebastian…” she whispered against his mouth. Her breathing soft and languid.

“Shh…” Sebastian hushed her, as he ran his tongue across her bottom lip again. Camille moaned and he squeezed her waist as if letting her know he enjoyed the sound she made. It was a tiny sigh, a release, a letting go. She realized that’s what she wanted, what they both needed. No reality. Just each other and pleasure, for a short space of time.

He shifted slightly, falling back against the plush pillow his arm sliding down and wrapping loosely around her waist and pulling her on top of him. Somehow Camille twisted, and straddled him. He dropped his arm from around her waist, and she threaded her fingers through his, carrying his hands up over his head. Her eyes full of lust.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” He managed to ask with a small smile.

“Because we’re stupid, stupid people.” Camille quickly answered, lowering her head to graze her lips against his again.

Soft. Slow. Unbearably sweet.

“So unbelievably stupid.” Sebastian repeated breaking briefly from her mouth to place a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“So, so stupid.” She reiterated in whisper. Her lips twitched. Closing the gap, she kissed the corner of his mouth, his nose, his cheek, his jaw, then trailed her lips back to his. He closed his eyes as her tongue, warm and wet, tangled with his, explored leisurely. Camille could feel the beating of his heart as her kisses took a hold of something deep. It might have been 5, 10 or even an hour -she wasn’t sure- all she was sure of was how wonderful it was for his mouth and tongue to explore hers. She heard herself moan in pleasure when he moved slightly beneath her.

“Camille?!”

Suddenly her eyes flew open at the sound of her name and broke the kiss. It was Natalie.

“Who’s car is that parked in the driveway?” Her younger sister called out. “Oh wait! Its Sebastian’s rental isn’t it? I forgot he was coming over!”

“Oh my god!” She hissed, rolling off him as fast as she could.

“Camille,” Sebastian started with laugh, pushing himself up in sitting position.

“If she catches us, we will never hear the end of it.” Camille explained, stumbling to stand up. Reality settling back in. But before she could say or stand, she found herself tripping literally on her own feet, coming back down, thankfully the couch cushions broke her fall.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Sebastian exclaimed, quickly standing up and reaching down his hand for her to grab.

With one elbow resting on the cushion, Camille looked up at him, and burst into a fit of giggles at how silly she probably looked. “Yes.” She answered him, tossing her head back and cackled at herself. “Stupid couch got in my way.” Taking the hand he offered, still giggling. Sebastian snorted back his laugh as well.

“What the hell? What are you doing on the floor?” Natalie demanded.

Sebastian used his strength and pulled her up to her feet. They locked eyes and they only brought another fit of giggles from the both of them. Only this would happen to her.

“Camille decided to make out with the couch.” Sebastian answered after his laughter subsided.

Her jaw dropped at his response, letting go of his hand. She scowled. Sebastian only smirked back.

“Did you trip on your own two feet?” Natalie guessed.

“Noooo.” Camille responded annoyingly.

At the same time her sister made her way toward Sebastian. She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek as a hello. In the past few months, Natalie, along with Samantha had grown to care for Sebastian and consider him their friend as well.

Natalie sat down on the couch they had just finished making out on, leaning back against the cushion to slip off her shoes. She glanced around the room and looked back at her older sister with a judgmental eye. “No wonder you were on the ground, you’ve been drinking wine.”

By this time Sebastian had sat back down next to Natalie, while Camille found herself on the opposite couch across from them.

“I wasn’t drinking it alone.” Looking pointedly at Sebastian.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one in eye level with cushions.”

Camille made a mocking face in his direction and Sebastian only smiled innocently back. She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t respond. She knew he was just acting like a little shit to see what kind of reaction she would have.

Hmmph. Just because he’s a good kisser doesn’t mean he still isn’t a little asshole. She thought to herself.

Holy shit.

She made out with Sebastian Stan. After all most 10 plus months of them flirting/teasing back and forth, they finally shared a kiss. Or lots of kisses if you wanted to get technical about it. They fully made out. Holy shit. Of course it had been better than she expected. She must have been so lost in thought because she when blinked back to the present, she found Sebastian eyeing her from the corner of his eye while half paying attention to Natalie talking animatedly.

Camille looked past him, her eyes widening at the realization that the script and book were on the floor next to Sebastian. She didn’t remember doing that. Natalie was so enthralled in telling Sebastian all about the wedding that she didn’t notice when Camille got up to pick up the book and script. But Sebastian did and gave her a look that clearly asked: what are you doing? Tossing the books gently to the ottoman behind her, Camille locked eyes with him. She couldn’t help but get the butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him. Why did he have to be so handsome? And sexy. Fuck. He wasn’t even trying.

“Alright you two-what the hell is going on?” Camille heard Natalie asked suspiciously.

Breaking their gaze, they looked back her younger sister, who was eyeing at them as if they were criminals.

Sebastian sighed loudly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Fine, you caught us.” If looks could kill he would be dead right now. But Sebastian wasn’t looking at her, instead he put his attention on Natalie. “I was trying to get Camille’s help in what to get you and Sam as a wedding present. And I didn’t want her to tell you, because you two are my friends now and I didn’t want you all to think I wasn’t trying…” he trailed off.

By then Camille had miraculously planted herself back on the other end of the couch and just listened. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t dead just yet.

“You don’t have to get us anything. And I thought it had something to do with Cam and her trip.” Natalie responded accepting Sebastian’s story.

Camille purses her lips together at Natalie’s statement.

Natalie continued. “But you’re still coming right?”

“Yes, of course.” He answered with a nod and at the same trying to catch Camille’s gaze.

“Okay, good.” She said with a relieved smile. “Are you bringing a plus one?”

“I thought he was going to be my plus one?” Camille interjected.

“Well I wasn’t sure since you said Liz had asked if you could leave sooner. Like the day of the wedding. So I just wanted to make sure-.”

Camille watched Sebastian softly place one hand over Natalie’s. “Breath sweetheart.” He ordered with a smile.

Camille’s heart warmed up at his sweet gesture.

Doing what Sebastian asked, Natalie sucked in a large breath and let it out before mumbling. “Sorry.”

“Nat, esta bien.” Camille reassured in Spanish. “I think its okay to feel this way right before your wedding. In fact I would be worried if you didn’t.” Blindly reaching for the plush pillow behind her and bringing it up to her chest. “Don’t worry, I talked to Liz, we were able to rearrange the schedule. I leave 2 days after the wedding. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Camille could feel Sebastian’s gaze on her. “Two days after the wedding?” He repeated.

“You didn’t tell him?”

Camille gritted her teeth. “I haven’t had the chance...”

Which was the truth. She had planned on sharing the piece of information with him, but then they started eating and talking and kissing, that she got distracted and forgot.

“What happened to the end of the month?” Sebastian asked with a wrinkle of his nose.

Natalie snorted, Camille glowered back at her sister. “What?” She said innocently.

“Liz just told me about it 2 days ago.” She explained. Unsure of what else to say.

“Hence why I was freaking out.” Natalie added with a small frown.

“I was going to tell you.” Camille added quickly. “But then we started eating and talking and -.” Then stopped herself.

“I know.” Sebastian answered with a knowing smile. “The life of this business. It’s okay dragoste.” Sebastian stated with a sly smile, licking his bottom lip in the process.

Camille suppressed the whimper from her lips at his action.

Ten months. That’s how long she was going to be gone for her next job. Ten months in New Zealand. Two months ago, the idea of this trip sounded like a dream. And now? It sounded like the worst idea ever.

Whoa.

She needed to calm down. It had just been a few kisses. Nothing more.

Camille watched them from the corner of her eye as they continued talking. How was he so calm? Because her mind just kept replaying what happened on that couch. The way he smelled and felt. The feel of his tongue tracing the inside of her mouth.

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal for him. A kiss was just a kiss. Right? If that was the case then why were her lips still tingling? Why did she have the urge to do it again?

“Cam? Camille?”

She blinked out of her fantasy and found Sebastian and Natalie on their feet. “Yeah?” Camille asked, pretending she hadn’t just gazed off.

“Sebastian said he has to get going.”

“You do?” She asked stupidly.

“It’s almost midnight.” Natalie answered. “And he has to be at the airport at 430 in the morning.”

Shit was it really that late already? The night felt like it had just gotten started. “You really need to start getting later flights.” Camille blurted out jokingly, pushing the dream of kissing him out of her thoughts.

“I’ll make sure to bring that up to Emily.” Sebastian said before giving Natalie a warm hug.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Natalie stated, letting go of him in the process.

Camille nervously rubbed both of her arms. “I’ll walk you out.” Standing up, heartbeat speeding up at the realization they were going to be alone again.

“Okay.” Sebastian answered with a smile before saying goodbye to Natalie one more time.

Camille led the way, taking them through the garage. She was so lost in her own thoughts she didn’t realize the garage door was open, until she tried to push the opener. “Oh geez Camille.” She uttered to herself, walking toward Sebastian’s rental. Not sure of what to do next, she halted by the passenger door and turned to him, a slight shiver running through her when the cold breeze hit her body. He was looking at her with amusement. Her cheeks felt hot now. “What?” she snapped, shifting from one foot to the other.

Smirking, Sebastian took a step closer. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re nervous?”

Camille tilted her head to one side with a raised eyebrow, pretending his closeness did not affect her in any way. What was supposed to be their next step in all of this? Was there a next step? All this time she had been so focused on what it would be like to be in his arms that she hadn’t thought about the ‘what next’? Had he?

She jumped a bit when she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She felt it again. She shouldn’t be surprised. It was February in California after all. It had been raining most of the week. Gazing up to the dark sky she said. “You should probably get going before it really starts to come down.”

But Sebastian had other thoughts, he pressed against her, her body trapped against the passenger door. “We haven’t said bye yet.” He reminded in a low voice.

Camille swallowed the lump before looking up at him through her lashes. “We haven’t?”

“No.”

But before either one could speak up, more drops of water began to hit them. Sebastian swiftly opened the passenger door, gesturing for her to get in. Camille wasn’t sure of what do to, but found herself sliding into the car and watched him run to the driver’s side. The moment he shut the door, the rain really started to come down.

They locked eyes before laughing. “That was close.” Camille observed, leaning back.

“So what’s the plan after the wedding now that you have to leave early?” Sebastian asked, his head pressed against the seat, but eyes on her.

“I’m not sure yet.” She confessed looking straight ahead and playing with her necklace around her neck. In fact she hadn’t taken the pendant off since he had given it to her back in October. He only nodded. Camille quickly turned her attention to him. “I was going to tell you.” She repeated. “But I’m also still trying to digest it.” She finished with a small shrug.

“That’s a long time to be gone.” He agreed.

“Hmm, yeah.” Was all Camille’s mouth could say, eyes shut.

“You nervous?”

“I am that transparent?” She asked with a short laugh, opening her eyes to find Sebastian’s eyes lingering down to her lips. She fought the urge to lean in and kiss him.

He moved his gaze away from her mouth, and back to her eyes. Her heart started to pound faster, harder, when he leaned over the console. “I just know you better than you think.” He said with a light smirk, cupping her cheek with one hand. “And I also know you’ve probably obsessed about it, wondering if you’re going to do a good job...”

Camille’s gaze never wavered as he spoke. He was right. She was ridiculously nervous about this job. This was her first job without Liz as her safety net. Meaning she was going to be in charge of the other makeup artist /crew that were coming with her on this long job.

“The answer is yes Camille. You’re going to do an awesome job. You’re going to kick ass.” He finished with a warm smile.

“Thanks for the boost of confidence.” Returning the smile.

“Always dragoste.” Sebastian responded with a wink.

She closed her eyes and turned her nose and mouth toward his hand. She heard him clear his throat. “But I don’t want to talk about that anymore.” Pressing her lips into the moist hollow of his hand.

“O-oh no?”

“No.” Her voice was hoarse, quiet. Intense.

“Then what do you want to talk about?” He licked his lips and dropped his hand. She didn’t want him to stay away any longer. She needed to feel his lips against hers.

“About-about...” She stammered opening her eye as Sebastian closed in on her, his nose inches from hers, his mouth a hairbreadth away. She heard him suck in his breath in anticipation.

“About what baby?” he asked but kissed the corner of her mouth, in such a light teasing touched that she shivered. He stared hard, and Camille became overwhelmed with feelings she couldn’t begin to explain. All she knew was that she needed to have him near, needed him to kiss her, hold her, touch her. His lips hovered above hers, his nose alongside hers.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to-.” “Kiss you?” he answered without another second thought he kissed her, a honest to goodness, lips everywhere, tongue-teasing kiss. A sigh escaped from her. She dipped her head back and opened her mouth as she let Sebastian marveled at the taste and texture of her, so soft, so wet.

“Mmmm.” she murmured when his lips moved to her jaw, her neck. But he cut off her moan with another kiss that left her clinging to him like a lifesaver.

“Kissing you again was all I could think of doing when we were in there.” He almost growled against her mouth.

Camille could hear the excited little rush of both their breaths, the pants, the moans, the shift from casual exploration to urgent questing.

“Really?” She whined, her heart feeling lighter at his confession.

“God yes, baby.” His lips sliding back down to the hollow of her neck. Camille felt the goose bumps all the way down to her toes. She felt his warm lips suck gently on her skin and she groaned loudly. Thankful they were confined in the car and no one could hear them. “Fuck.” He said in a hot whisper.

They were close, but not close enough, she wanted to reach out and touch all of him. Even though her thoughts were consumed with the touch of his mouth Camille seemed to once again pick up on his thoughts as he bit gently on her neck, because she crawled over the console and into his lap, her knees sunk into the leather on either side his hips, and gasped softly when she felt the hard and strained at the fly of his jeans.

He brought his hands up and cupped her face between them, his lips back on hers. Sebastian pushed his tongue between her lips again and met the wet heat of her mouth as she sighed with pleasure.

“You could’ve fooled me.” Camille murmured against his mouth.

He broke from her lips and dropped one hand, as the other stroked one side of her cheek with the knuckles. Sebastian chuckled lightly and pressed his forehead to hers. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Camille breathed, shifting a bit in his lap. She heard a grunt leave his lips. A small smile tugged on her lips when it registered she was sitting on Sebastian’s lap. She wasn’t sure it how it happened. But it just felt good to do.

“What’s the smirk for?”

“Nothing...it just hit me that I’m sitting on your lap and...” she confessed with a humorous laugh.

“Were making out?” He supplied with his own smirk.

She nodded. “Y-yess.” She moaned in response. His lips latched back on to the hollow of her neck and Camille wrapped her arms around his neck, as his hands slid up her back, making her whole body shiver. She could not even begin to describe how glorious this felt. He made her feel wanted. And she hadn’t felt that way in a very long time. She tossed her head back as his lips continued to torture her neck.

“Mmmm, is this your sweet spot?” Sebastian mused against her skin. Camille shifted once again and an almost like growl left his lips.

“Maybe...” Camille answered as coyly as possible, but it was hard to think straight at the moment. The bastard had found her spot.

He broke from her neck and lifted his head, a satisfied look in his eyes. “You know, you can be a real brat when you want.”

She playfully glared down at him through her lashes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t-.”

“Camille?”

“What?” She snapped, her fingers caressing the back of his neck.

“Shut up, so I can continue kissing you.” Sebastian ordered. And before she could say anything else he did just that, hard. She felt him smile against her lips when he heard her cry out in pleasure. She didn’t argue with him, instead let his lips do the talking.

After a few minutes, Sebastian broke their kiss and said. “I should probably get going.” But his hands roamed up and down her spine.

“Mmmkay.” Was Camille’s only response as she nipped at his lower lip.

He groaned. “Jesus, Camille you aren’t making this easy for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He laughed. “We both know you aren’t.” Squeezing her waist before pulling her closer to him.

“You’re right, I’m not.” She said with a giggle.

“Come here.” he instructed softly, and covered her mouth with his again, one hand tugging behind her neck. He licked at her lips and teased his tongue into her until they both moaned in pleasure. Camille could not remember the last time she had a good full blown make out session. She forgotten how nice it was to just kiss someone.

“Didn’t you just say you had to leave?” She asked between kisses. He responded with a grunt. A grunt that turned into a low moan when Camille massaged his scalp leisurely.

“I’m trying.” Sebastian said with a laugh, his large hands still caressed her back. “But this is so much more fun.” His lips trailing down her jaw.

Camille moaned response for what felt the hundredth time. For the next few minutes their mouths continued to explore each other. A small whine left her mouth when Sebastian ran his fingers through her curls. Camille was so engrossed in the moment she had managed to push aside away all the sounds surrounding them. But she quickly opened her eyes when she heard a loud slam outside of the car. She broke from his lips. “What was that?” She hissed.

“It was just a car door closing.” Sebastian answered, pushing her hair to one side of her neck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Sebastian said with a chuckle before pressing a light kiss behind her ear. He nuzzled his nose into the hollow of her neck. She heard him grumble when he inhaled her scent. “God, you smell so good.”

Camille didn’t know how to answer that. Instead she ran her fingers up and down his shoulders and arms and smiled warmly down at him. “As much as I want to continue this, you should get going.” She managed to say. “Don’t want you to over sleep.”

Sebastian glared up at her. “It happened one time!” He protested, but continued to stroke her back.

She stifled her giggles, burying her face into his neck. She was referring to back in December when he missed his flight home because he overslept. He had to be on standby until a flight opened up. Camille gasped in surprise, lifting her head up when she felt his fingers start to tickle her sides. “Sebastian!” She said through fits of laughter. “Stop!”

“That’s what you get for making fun of me.”

She dropped her arms from around his neck and shoulders and grasped his hands in each of hers. “Okay, okay! Stop!” She pleaded. “You know I don’t like being tickled.”

Sebastian stopped long enough to tangle his fingers with hers and bringing her knuckles up to his mouth. “I need to go.” He stated kissing her knuckles softly.

“You’ve been saying that for the past 10 minutes.” Camille reminded with a teasing smile.

“I know.”

She knew there was no more staling. He had to go. He needed to get some sleep before his flight. She had the urge to tell him to stay with her, but then she remembered her sister was there. Instead she leaned in and brushed her lips softly against his. “Start the car.” She ordered as sternly as possible. She could get use to kissing him like this all the time.

“I’ll see you a few weeks?” He asked, placing a strand of lose hair behind her ear. Camille only nodded. “I’m still your plus one right?”

“Yes. You can’t back out.” She ordered with a pretend scowl before pushing the door open. “You’re my scapegoat when Mi Tias start asking why I haven’t set a wedding date.”

“I’m glad I can help.” Sebastian said sarcastically. Camille was about to shift herself off his lap when he wrapped one arm around her waist. “Wait.” He started.

“What is it-.” But stopped talking when his lips touched hers again. She literally felt like she was melting against him.

After a few moments, Sebastian broke the kiss, a huge grin on his face. “Just one more for the road.”

Pretending it didn’t phase her, Camille slid off his lap, feet hitting the pavement. The grin he had a few moments ago disappeared and it was replaced with a frown when she shut the door with him still in the car. He turned the engine on and rolled down the window.

“Don’t pout at me.” Camille instructed, trying her best to keep her emotions in check. That only made him frown even more. “Stop.” She demanded with a small laugh, resting an elbow on the opened window. He could be such a baby sometimes. Yet, Camille knew it was his way of trying to lighten their goodbye.

“I can’t help if my mouth has a mind of its own.” He answered with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Camille rolled her eyes, ready to take a step back, but stopped when he placed one hand over hers. She looked expectantly at him. “Just so you know-if I had it my way....I wouldn’t be leaving right now. Especially after-.”

“I know.” Pushing herself on her tiptoes she leaned and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek as reassurance. Then gathering whatever strength she had, she pulled away from him. “Text me when you land?” He nodded. Camille felt the drops of water again and quickly made her way to the open garage.

Sebastian waved before backing out of the driveway. Camille waved back with one hand, while the other touched her mouth. Hoping to keep the feel of his lips on her for as long as she could. She waited a few more moments to head back inside, trying to digest the last few hours.

Things were about to change. She was sure of it. How? She had no fucking clue. She must have been so lost in thought, she hadn’t realized she walked back into the house. Regardless of what happened next, Camille felt like she was floating on a fluffy cloud at the moment.

“I thought maybe you decided to go with him.” Natalie teased, sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, eating leftover Thai food.

“Huh?” Camille said absently. “No.”

“What were you doing? Making out?”

At those words, Camille jerked her attention to her younger sister. “You were spying?!”

Natalie’s jaw dropped and then quickly jumped out of the bar stool. “Oh my god! No! I was just joking! But it finally happened?” She squealed.

God damn. Her sister was just being a smart ass! Camille opened her mouth to protest, but Natalie was already shaking her head and pointing a finger at her.

“Uh uh, don’t even try to deny it. You just spilled on yourself. I want all the details! Can I say it’s about damn time. You two have been playing this game for too long.”

Camille met her sister’s gaze, a small smile tugged on her face despite trying to play it cool. She had to share this with someone. And who better than her sister? Besides she needed to try and figure out what all this meant.

“Is he a good kisser?”

Leaning against the stainless steel refrigerator, Camille covered her face with both hands, trying to hide the stupid smile. She shook her head, unsure of what to say. Because she couldn’t put into words what it was like to kiss Sebastian. What she knew was that for the first time in months, she didn’t feel as if there was a dark cloud above her.

Natalie squealed again. “Holy shit, that good?”

Camille moves her hands away from her face, smiling like an idiot at Natalie. Her sister made her way to Camille, grasping her wrist. “I want to know everything. Don’t leave anything out!” Leading her to the living room.

Sources: ‘Picnic’ excerpt written by William Inge, Lyrics: Brandy’s Wildest Dreams

@thewintersadie @mydragulesebastian @its-daydreamer23 @janeyboo @peaceinourtime82

#Sebastian Stan #Sebby #seb #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #fan fiction #Latina #fanfic latina

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sesquipunzel · 5 years

Text

Act 1 (201-210)

“I'll go get the tool box and you can fix our broken home.”

Page 201 - TT: Revise bathroom.

201. Rose fixes the bathroom floor (are we ignoring the plumbing connections within, which ought to be spewing water all over the first floor?), but leaves herself with only 2 grist, thanks to John's pointless Generibrication.

202. DAD can't get in the front door, and finds a toilet full of cake in the backyard. He is understandably and understatedly confuzzled. (But still proud of his Lil Tricksterito, aw!)

203. Without the PDA, freaking-out John hurries back to his reshaped room (where the cake is still clinging to the Failure to Launch poster) to talk to TT, and whoever else is trying to pester him.

204. Long-ish Pesterlog, Part the First, with Rose:

TT sez impending doom explains the shitty walkthroughs — which, if each one stops updating shortly after reaching this point, and John's meteor hasn't landed yet, sort of implies that each player gets their Very Own Personally Aimed Meteor of Doom. At least, each player who does whatever John did — wait, when did the countdown start? At the point where opening the Crux lid created or released the Kernelsprite, right.

Which also implies that Rose (who was already playing the game when Dave first pestered John) did not experiment with a Cruxtruder in her own house — why?

Perhaps she was just looking forward to using the game to mess with her friends. Which would explain why she was so impatient for John to get online with it, especially since Dave was apparently (or trying to appear apparently) “too cool” to appear eager to play with a pair of his peers.

Perhaps she didn't want to deploy large physical things in her house that would attract her mother's attention. Apparently didn’t want a parent to appear before she could play with a pair of her peers.

But she also said John needed the server software to be able to do the moving/revising/deploying she was doing, perhaps implying that it can ONLY be done to a connected client, and not to your own surroundings. (Diabolical design, if Skaianet [or whoever Skaianet turns out to be] is sending out this software for a destructive purpose — of course people will be more cavalier when messing with Other People's Stuff.)

A Personally Aimed Meteor also implies a cause for the explosiony noise near GG's house; someone else in her neighborhood was probly a SBURB client.

Rose is really long-winded in a crisis. John is panicking and does not need more wind right now.

“TT: If the meteor is a game construct, I think the only thing to do is to proceed, and try to solve the dilemma on the game's terms.” In other words, Incoming Doom will not negate the value of all that lingo we've spent 200 pages trying to learn — it's still relevant to solving the problem. Which is good — unsolved puzzles are fine by me as long as there's time to keep solving them.

“TT: I think I will write my own walkthrough. That is, after we make sure you don't die.” Nice she has her priorities straight.

Part the Second, with Dave:

To begin with TG’s looking for appreciation for his majestic bunny present. And then trying to bait John by telling him wanting/owning the bunny is 'douchey'. And then getting worried.

Even in a scrambled-Egbert panic, TT breaking his house is a higher priority mention than the meteor. And Dave sounds oddly — but belatedly — serious about having told him to steer clear of the beta. (I went back and looked — he didn't; he was trying to look cool about it but he appeared eager for John to receive and install it, said "is it there, plz say yes")

John sez “we'll talk later if i am still alive" and Dave is just not sure how seriously to take this. On first glance all those all-caps "OH SHIT" things looked like a horrorstruck Dave realizing John was serious, but it's just another long irreverent ramble. (Maybe by the time he got to the last OH SHIT and John still wasn't answering, he was starting to wonder…)

205-206. Quick, John, to the Totem Lathe! This machinery does have a slot for the punchinello card, and John deploys some toothy-lookin' chisels. But something to chisel upon…? Acourse he left the Cruxite on the balcony. And acourse DAD has found his way in through the utility room and, if he he had arms, would now be scratching his head over the bathtub blocking the stairs.

Dude, why are you hiding? DAD-dude's got bigger things to worry about than a broken bathroom, and so do you.

207. Same, Rose-dude! Leave the bathroom alone and help John figure out why the game YOU are playing has put him in the crosshairs!! But no, she's busy bringing the toilet (sans cake or hairy arm) back where it belongs. No one will notice it's now six inches taller than it used to be — because they’ll all be dead!

208. "DAD just shrugs and heads back downstairs, presumably to do some more baking. If only he knew you were hard at work saving his ass." I guess if it works, John will have plenty of time to explain/atone, and if it doesn't, DAD will go out doing something he loves?

209-210. John manages to place Cruxite dowel in the Lathe, carve it, and retrieve it, without further misadventures in execution or inventory — what a twischt!

And on we go.

#homestuck liveblog #hs act 1 #sesquipunzel reads homestuck #homestuck #hs week 002

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fuwafuwagem · 6 years

Text

Bloom Chapter 1 - Yu-hwa

Just for you lovelies that may not have discovered it on Archive of Our Own, here is the first chapter of my Mystic Messenger fic Bloom, featuring my baby my OC Yu-hwa Lee ^^

You can find the ongoing fic here. I am updating regularly and have chapters prepared to upload, so I won’t leave you hanging ^^

Hope you enjoy it! The first chapter preview is under the cut <3

TW for sexual threats and references.

Yu-hwa Lee sat in her favourite seat at the café close to her apartment block, nursing the cheapest thing on the menu; a small white tea. It wasn’t as good as the coffee her body craved, but it was all her purse would allow her to have. She flicked through the pages of the application form she had on the table in front of her. There was no way she was qualified for a job at C&R, but it was the only place she could find that was currently hiring, and she was getting desperate.

She filled in a few basic details; name, date of birth. Address? She sighed. The landlord was on the verge of kicking her out.

This is depressing.

She put down her pen and picked up her phone. The notification icon showed that she had one new email, and she prayed to all the gods she could think of that it was a job offer.

You have been invited to test out…

She sighed, quickly scrolling through the message. It looked like junk mail, but she thought that maybe it was something she could get paid to do. At the end of the message was a link, which she pressed hoping that it wasn’t a virus.

Installing…

Oh shit!

She closed the email, hoping that it would stop whatever she had just started, but when she checked her phone menu she saw a new icon was installed there. She knew that she should probably delete it immediately, but curiosity got the better of her. She opened the app.

A chat room opened.

Unknown: Hi! Finally, someone to talk to, thank god…

Yu-hwa bit her lip and tugged at a strand of her dyed pink hair nervously. Unknown? Is this a chat-bot? These things seem to be popular lately.Tentatively, she typed her reply.

Yu-hwa: Hello

Unknown: Hi. Nice to meet you ^^ Yu-hwa… I’ve been waiting for you. Hope I didn’t surprise you. Don’t be nervous, I’m just an ‘ordinary’ person~

Yu-hwa felt her blood turn cold. The app must have accessed her personal data as her name and profile were displayed for Unknown to see. But what did he mean by he’d been waiting for her, and…

Yu-hwa: Why are you emphasizing the word ordinary…? It’s making me even more nervous

Unknown: You’re funny lol

Yu-hwa sighed and sipped her tea. Funny? Yeah, my whole life is a joke. She looked back at her phone. She knew that she should probably leave the chat before he asked her to send nudes or something, but she was a little curious too as she continued to read his message.

Unknown: But I can’t really say I’m extraordinary when I’m introducing myself. Shouldn’t I be humble and modest?

Yu-hwa couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t the only comedian.

Unknown: In fact… I’m really excited. Cuz the first person to come in is you, Yu-hwa!

She cringed again at her name being used by this stranger she knew nothing about. He was being too familiar.

Unknown: I was so worried that no one would come in as I was making this app.

Yu-hwa’s eyes widened. So this guy is the apps creator? That explains some things I guess. She tapped at her phone.

Yu-hwa: What’s this app for?

Unknown: I was about to explain, but before that, can I ask a favour?

Yu-hwa inhaled. Have we finally arrived on Planet Perv? Her thumb hovered over the exit chat button.

Unknown: I know that it’s too much to ask from a stranger, but there’s something I really want you to help me with.

She chewed on her lower lip, moving her thumb and typing-

Yu-hwa: What is it?

She glanced at the application form in front of her. A few white lies might get her to the interview stage, but how far could her personality carry her? She rubbed her forehead as she felt the stress headache beginning to build, then glanced back at her phone.

Unknown: Well… This app isn’t just a messenger app, it’s a messenger game app. I wanted to ask if you could test it out for me. Game concept is chatting with pretty guys ^^

Yu-hwa: Why don’t you test it out yourself?

She didn’t have time for playing a game. She needed to find a job.

Unknown: It’s difficult to gain an objective view because I’m the creator. I want to know what others think of this!

He was persistent, but Yu-hwa knew she didn’t have the time. I just need to politely decline when I get the chance.

Unknown: The chats aren’t everything. There are also hidden stories… Amusing stories that will stir your imagination!

He’s really trying hard. She drank down the rest of her tea as she looked at the image of the characters he sent her. Cute, but not real. She rolled her eyes. I can’t keep a real boyfriend, I’m not going to spend my time chatting to artificial ones!

Yu-hwa: No thanks. Not my style.

She winced as she realised how harsh she might be coming across, but she was starting to get tired of the conversation.

Unknown: Just a little… Couldn’t you try it out for just a little? Decide whether it’s your style or not after trying it out.

She frowned. He seemed so desperate. She hoped that he wasn’t in a similar situation to her. Just imagining such a thing made her heart ache.

Yu-hwa: Fine. I’ll try it out.

Unknown: WOW! Thanks You’re a lifesaver… ^^

I hope you don’t mean that literally, she thought.

Unknown: I think it’ll be better to talk over the phone about the details.

The waitress took away Yu-hwa’s empty cup. “Anything else?”

“Um… no,” said Yu-hwa. Her purse was empty.

“It’s just… we have paying customers…”

“I get it,” Yu-hwa sighed. “I’m going.” She grabbed her belongings and rushed out of the café, red-faced. She glanced at her phone as she began to walk home.

Unknown: Don’t freak out when you see an unknown number and answer the phone plz ^^

The phone instantly started to ring. Yu-hwa inhaled deeply, her anxiety peaking. She closed her eyes and pressed answer

“Hey.”

The voice on the line was soft, but she could hear the excitement in his tone.

“Hi, umm, how did you know my number?” Yu-hwa asked.

“It’s automatically collected when you log-on to the messenger,” replied Unknown. There was an awkward pause. “Oh ummm, don’t get me wrong. It’s only dialable within the messenger app.”

Yu-hwa sighed. It was a relief to know that all she had to do was delete the app and she would never hear from him again. But there was something about his gentle voice that she liked. She kept listening.

“As I mentioned in the chat room, I called to explain to you about this app.”

Yu-hwa rolled her eyes. The sales pitch.

Unknown explained the concept of the game, which was chatting to the characters he had created and becoming the party coordinator of a fundraising group called R.F.A.

“It’ll be much faster to understand by playing, instead of listening to all this,” he said eventually. “Oh, but the game hasn’t been released yet. To perform the tests, you have to come over here.”

Yu-hwa pressed her lips together tightly. Yes of course random stranger I’ve talked to for five minutes. I’ll trust you not to do who knows what to me. Of course I’ll come over, pop the kettle on!

“Just send me the file,” she said, trying to remain polite.

Unknown sighed. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s protected by a date leak prevention security system. Even if you download the file, it’s uninstallable. I need to directly install it to your smartphone. Please understand. And I also want to meet you in person before you play the game.”

Yu-hwa gripped her bag, feeling uncomfortable. He was insistent, so she knew that she had to be firm. “No, I’ll just pass.” She didn’t know why she felt so bad saying it. The guy was being weird, and he was a complete stranger. But she had also sensed a desperation in him, something that was all too familiar to her.

“Why?” Unknown whined. “Weren’t you interested? It’s an app just for you where you can chat with pretty guys. Others can’t play this. Only you can.”

Pretty guys? They’re more trouble than they’re worth, and I can do without!

“It’s not even real,” she said firmly. “I’m not going.”

“For real?” His voice was filled with sorrow and disbelief. “Then how about this? If you come here and test the game, someone real might be interested in you. For example, me.”

This is pathetic.

“I don’t need it. No thanks.”

“You don’t need me?” He sounded broken. “Ha, haha… haha… Sad. I’m so sad…”

Yu-hwa felt her heart pounding. He was crying. Was he so desperate?

“I really believed you were going to make my dream come true… Believed you were the one I would go to paradise with…”

Yu-hwa reached her apartment and pulled out her key just as the landlord stuck his head out of his door. He’d clearly been waiting for her.

“Paradise?” she sighed.

“The place I was trying to take you to,” said Unknown, his voice soft but filled with sadness. “That place is paradise. Where there’s no pain or sadness, just endless happiness. I’m the angel that will lead you there. You’ve let go of my hand… but don’t worry. I don’t plan to let you go just yet.”

The landlord stood beside her, breathing down her neck.

“Rent’s due,” he said as she pushed the door open.

“I want to see what kind of face you’ll make when you’ve truly been saved. I want to see it with my own two eyes.”

The landlord snatched the phone out of Yu-hwa’s hand and hung up.

“Hey,” she gasped as he shoved it back at her.

“I said your rent’s due,” he snapped. “Actually, it was due last week, but I let you off because you’re cute. Now I want my money.”

Yu-hwa bit her lip, muted.

“Fuck, you don’t have it?” he asked, then smirked. “There are other ways of paying,” he said as he advanced on her. “It’s been a while since I got my cock wet.” He stepped back. “Think about it. You give me head, you get to keep a roof over yours.” He laughed as he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Yu-hwa hurried and locked the door, collapsing on the floor in tears.

#mystic messenger #bloom #ray x yu-hwa

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mikegranich87 · 3 years

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Windows 11 review: Microsoft’s most pleasant OS—until it isn't

What's the point of Windows 11? With Windows 10, Microsoft had to make a big course correction from Windows 8, an ambitious yet flawed attempt at bringing PCs into the touchscreen era. Before that, Windows 7 was meant as a palate cleanser to help us forget about the bloated mess that was Vista. Given that Windows 10 was already pretty polished when it launched, and only got better over time, why the need for a whole new version?

After testing early builds for months, as well as the shipping release this past week (here's how to nab it yourself), it's clear that Microsoft isn't actually trying to fix much with Windows 11. It's basically a fresh coat of paint on top of Windows 10 (and likely a last-ditch attempt at rebranding the defunct Windows 10X.) But the more I use it, the easier it is to see that small design tweaks can go a long way. Windows 10 was laser-focused on productivity; it aimed to make you as efficient as possible. Windows 11 goes a step further: What if being productive was also pleasant and oddly relaxing? Windows, meet mindfulness.

What's new

At first glance, Windows 11 may seem like a radical departure from Microsoft's typical desktop template — an aesthetic that hearkens all the way back to Windows 95. The taskbar is still around, but now all of your icons are centered by default. The Start menu is back with a redesigned look featuring pinned and recommended apps (you can also hit All Apps to see everything you've got installed). RIP, Live Tiles — nobody ever used you.

Devindra Hardawar/Engadget

This refreshed look extends throughout Windows 11: App windows now have rounded corners; icons, Windows Explorer and the Settings app look sharper than ever; and even the sound effects have been cleaned up. This is Windows at its most refined. To put it uncharitably, though, it also seems a lot like macOS. But fret not, Windows diehards: You can still shove the entire taskbar back to the left side of the screen. (Editor’s note: Where it belongs.)

Microsoft has also reworked system tray, for better and worse. Hitting the date and time brings up your notifications and calendar, while clicking on the volume or networking icons makes the new action center pop out. It’s similar to the system shortcuts in Windows 10, allowing you to change Wi-Fi networks, enable airplane mode and quickly change your brightness and volume. You can also easily reach some accessibility tweaks, like enabling the magnifier or color filters. Everything looks sleeker than Windows 10, though some options are gone entirely, like the ability to turn Night Lite settings on and off.

Windows 11 also marks a major return for widgets: bite-sized apps that also appeared in Windows 7. You can reach them by hitting the widget button in the taskbar, but frankly, I found them useless. These days, I don’t need a glanceable screen for my calendar, news and mail, not when my smartphone is always within reach.

Microsoft

Less noticeable than the taskbar changes, but still important, is the new Windows Store. It looks cleaner, with a left-hand navigation bar and multiple panes for individual app entries. I'd wager Microsoft just wanted to keep those install and purchase buttons in clear view at all times. Windows 10 is also getting the same Store app eventually, so it's not really an exclusive for the new OS. Eventually, we'll also see Android apps in the Microsoft Store, but it's unclear when that's happening.

Similarly, Windows 11 ships with the latest Xbox app, but that's also available on Windows 10. You'll still want to upgrade for the best overall gaming performance, though, as Windows 11 will be the only way to use Microsoft's DirectStorage technology on PCs. Whenever that does land it should dramatically speed up load times (assuming you have a compatible GPU and SSD) just like the Xbox Series S and X.

Microsoft

Calm from the start... mostly

On a new PC, Windows 11 welcomes you with a series of setup screens that feel like you're flipping through a spa brochure. Log into your Wi-Fi (or plug into Ethernet), enter your Microsoft credentials, and maybe grab a cucumber water while you wait.

As with Windows 10, you can choose to disable advertising IDs, which prevents ad tracking, and opt out of sending diagnostic information to Microsoft. But there aren't many other choices you'll have to make; the setup process basically runs on autopilot until you see the new desktop.

It's worth noting that Microsoft has made setup more restrictive for Windows 11 Home users: Both an internet connection and Microsoft account are required. You won't be able to set up a local user account, or use your computer at all, until you meet those requirements. Windows 11 Pro users won't have that limitation, which is good news for IT professionals and power users. But it could be frustrating for people without reliable internet access of their own.

(As of last year, the FCC said around 14.5 million Americans don't have steady broadband, defined as at least 25Mbps download speeds and 3Mbps uploads. Recent figures from Data Reportal say around 40 percent of the world's population are offline. Microsoft is probably assuming that the majority of its potential customers won't have an issue finding internet, but that goes directly against the company's moves towards increased accessibility.)

I'd expect many consumers will be upgrading their existing Windows 10 systems, rather than setting up a new computer. Unfortunately, Microsoft didn't have a way for me to upgrade my PC with a final Windows 11 release. Based on what I've seen with the latest Windows 11 Insider previews, though, moving to the new OS appears to be very similar to installing a major Windows 10 update. On a Surface Laptop 4 I had lying around, the upgrade process took around 15 minutes after downloading the new OS via Windows update.

You're going to have a tougher time if you own an older PC that doesn't meet Microsoft's hardware requirements. You'll need a compatible Intel, AMD or Qualcomm processor; 4GB of RAM; and at least 64GB of storage. Also, you'll have to enable Secure Boot and TPM 2.0 (Trusted Platform Module), features that should make it harder for spyware and malware to attack your OS. Microsoft's PC Health Check app can help you see if your system is ready for Windows 11.

If you don't meet the upgrade requirements, you can download a Windows 11 ISO and install it manually, a method that bypasses Microsoft's CPU restrictions. Still, you'll need to be savvy enough to create a boot disk and deal with a more complex installation. Another caveat: manual installations may not receive some future Windows Updates, according to The Verge. (It sounds like Microsoft hasn't decided how restrictive it wants to be just yet.)

If you've built your own desktop PC, I'd suggest bracing yourself for additional upgrade complications. Microsoft's Health Check app initially said that my system — powered by an AMD Ryzen 7 5800X processor, an ASROCK motherboard and 32GB of RAM — wasn't compatible with Windows 11. It turned out I needed to enable the AMD TPM 2.0 module and Secure Boot in my BIOS. But once I did all that, my system couldn't boot into my Windows 10 installation.

After a bit of sleuthing, I learned that I needed to convert my Windows 10 installation disk from MBR (Master Boot Record) to GPT (GUID Partition Table). So off I went into the command line to run some strings and pray for my Windows installation's safety. Five sweat-soaked minutes later, I rebooted and saw my trusty Windows login screen. Whew. From there, I was able to proceed with the Windows 11 Update as normal.

I'm sure I'm not the only one with a Windows 10 installation on an MBR disk — that was the standard on older computers — so I'm hoping Microsoft eventually bakes that conversion into the entire Windows 11 setup process. I can't imagine average consumers trying to figure out command line prompts without wanting to throw their PCs out the window.

Microsoft

In use: A new look, new frustrations

Windows 11 is nice to use. Pleasant, even. Windows 10 wasn't ugly, but Windows 11's focus on design leads to a more refined experience at first. I enjoyed having color-matched themes. The new Settings app is a dream; it's actually easy to find things for once! I genuinely love the new automatic window snapping, which lets you shove an app to a particular area of your screen by hovering above the maximize icon. Even better, snapping a few apps together creates a group that you can easily revisit in the taskbar.

That facelift doesn't come at the expense of performance, either. Windows 11 feels just as fast as Windows 10 on all of my test systems. But I'll be more interested to see how it performs on PCs older than five years, which is about the cut-off for Microsoft's upgrade requirements.

As impressed as I am by the design changes, a part of me feels constrained by the new OS. No matter where you place your taskbar icons, for example, you won't be able to see app labels anymore. Microsoft has been pushing an icon-focused taskbar since Windows 7, but you always had the option to turn on labels, so you could see what was in an app window before you clicked on it. Dealing with that loss is the single biggest hurdle I had with Windows 11.

Devindra Hardawar/Engadget

Now it takes me multiple clicks to find a specific Chrome window, or to locate an email I popped out of Gmail. Icons just aren't enough. I can understand why Microsoft took away labels: They make your desktop look chaotic. It's not nearly as zen as a simple line of high-resolution pictures.

But as a Windows user, I'm used to chaos. I was shaped by the instability of Windows 3.11; I learned to tame Windows XP as an IT admin; and I was there at the Windows 8 launch in Spain (an event that seems cursed in retrospect). Even after all of that, I'm still primarily a Windows user. If chaos can make me more productive, I embrace the madness. Sadly, Windows 11 doesn't give me that option. It just wants me to relax, damnit.

To be fair, I have similar issues with macOS. As pretty as it is, finding a specific app window can be frustrating. To mitigate that, I typically rely on Mission Control to establish hot corners that can either show me every open app, windows within a specific program, or the desktop. Windows 11 lets you set up a hot corner in the bottom right of your screen to show the desktop, but you'll have to rely on keyboard shortcuts to see open apps. (I'm still debating whether Alt + Tab or Win + Tab is better.)

After spending so much time with Windows 11, I'm begrudgingly getting the hang of the new taskbar, at least. I'd bet some Windows diehards will be similarly frustrated with the new Start menu, especially if they're used to seeing all of their apps instantly. Personally, I find the focus on shortcuts and recently added files and apps to be more useful. And as of Windows 10, I just hit the Windows key and start typing to search for specific apps. (I'm glad that's still practically instantaneous on the new OS.)

I’ve only dabbled in the Windows 11 touchscreen experience so far, but in general it feels easier to hit specific targets. Microsoft has also made apps more responsive to touch, so it’s being able to quickly expand and maximize windows feels less frustrating. You still won’t mistake Windows 11 for iPadOS, but I never expected Microsoft to go that far. This new OS is simply better for laptops that have touchscreens, and it’s far more usable for hybrid tablets like the Surface Pro.

While I've found Windows 11 pleasant overall, I'll be interested to see how mainstream users react to all of the changes. Some members of Engadget's staff initially found the new design to be ugly (some warmed up to it later), and at least one was grateful I explained how to move the taskbar back to the left. It's tough for Microsoft to make any major changes to Windows without having users throw a fit. (Remember everything that happened around Windows 8?) So I expect the initial reaction isn't going to be welcoming. Let's just say I'm glad I'm no longer in IT support for this transition.

Microsoft

So, who needs Windows 11?

To paraphrase Thanos, Windows 11 is inevitable. It's going to start rolling out to eligible Windows 10 users today, and it will ship with new PCs this Fall. Aside from re-learning the taskbar and Start menu functionality, there's not much of a reason to avoid it. The new Secure Boot requirements will make it a safer OS overall; gamers will eventually get faster loading times; and everyone can appreciate the clean new aesthetic.

It's a step forward, even if it isn't as momentous as Windows 10. It's also hard to ignore the story behind the new OS, which makes Windows 11 feel more like a way for Microsoft to save face after an embarrassing failure. In the fall of 2019, the company announced Windows 10X, an OS variant meant for dual-screened PCs. Those devices, like the intriguing Surface Neo, failed to arrive. (It's unclear if the complex new hardware was the roadblock, or if PC makers were waiting for Windows 10X to be completed.)

Microsoft announced last year that it was shifting the focus of 10X to single-screened devices, and it put the final nail in the coffin this May, when it said that Windows 10X development had stopped. A few weeks later, we got word that Microsoft was gearing up to reveal the next version of Windows, and shortly after that the Windows 11 leak occurred. On June 24th, with practically all of its new features spoiled, Microsoft officially revealed its new OS.

Devindra Hardawar/Engadget

In my head, I imagine the frantic meetings around Windows 10X's rocky development like something from The West Wing creator Aaron Sorkin. With dual-screened devices a no-show, maybe they could just repurpose that work for traditional laptops, a harried Panos Panay would say. But why even make that a separate version of Windows 10? The PC market is pretty hot right now, perhaps there's a way to capitalize on that? And at some point, someone just said "Why not just go to 11?" A stunned silence. Applause all around.

Not to sound too cynical, but releasing a new OS is an easy way to encourage people to buy new computers. That's particularly true now that we're relying on our PCs more than ever, as many people are still working and doing schoolwork from home. A new version of Windows is no simple thing, and it’ll surely get more headlines and media attention than a mere Windows 10 update. (Stares directly into camera.)

from Mike Granich https://www.engadget.com/windows-11-review-microsoft-mindful-os-200028040.html?src=rss

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tapwrites · 6 years

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XP-Pen Artist 10S v2

Yeah... that’s a mouthful ain’t it?

I recently got myself a graphics tablet... with a SCREEN!! I’ve been wanting one of those since I knew they existed, but for the longest time only the insanely-priced Cintiqs were available.

In recent years, it turns out, other manufacturers have branched into screened graphics tablets also--slowly bringing down the price to an attainable level.

I got my Artist 10S for £199.99 from Amazon. Let me tell you how it went.

From the Top

I have done art before. I was half-decent at it when I was around 10 or so. But it’s been a while. I got myself a decent “dotted” sketchbook and started sketching things out in it to run my RPG sessions. That’s really what gave me the bug to get into drawing again. And to actually buy a tablet to do so!

I downloaded Krita, a free Photoshop-like application for artists. It’s super-powerful, once you figure out how it works. But there are plenty of tutorials online about that if you’re interested in checking it out.

...But anyway, Krita has some nice smoothing algorithms you can turn on for drawing with a pen tablet. The pen doesn’t have tilt and rotation detection, but pressure sensitivity works well with Krita and gives me plenty of expressiveness to get on with. And I was pretty instantly busting out some sweet curves!

It was a pretty amazing experience, really--getting to draw freehand while also having the capability of undo, erase, etc. I’m not saying it brought a tear to my eye, but it was a nice moment. 😂

Config

The tablet has 6 “Express Keys” along the side, which are configurable to key combinations. When you hold them down, that key is held down (this’ll become important later). I currently have them set to things like canvas pan/zoom/rotate, and a couple of other “hold to use” shortcuts.

The pen is somewhat triangular along the barrel, meaning it won’t roll around on your desk. But it’s smoothed out enough to feel just fine in your hand. It has two barrel buttons, though these are only configurable to mouse various clicks and a preset “brush/eraser” toggle (which didn’t work with Krita out of the box). There is no “eraser” button at the other end (like a pencil with an eraser at the other end)... but I’d find that too fiddly and time consuming to flip it around anyway.

The lack of options for the pen is a little disappointing. Things like this are insanely easy to implement in code--as demonstrated by the express key options. So there’s not really any excuse for it other than the company being small, and this product originally belonging to a different company XP-Pen... bought out or something? I dunno. We’ll get onto them in due course.

Oh, a little side note... the configuration app is only readily accessible from a system tray icon (in Windows). This is fine when you first install the drivers. (And then install the updated drivers so the tablet actually works.) But it has a habit of just... disappearing. After Hibernation or Sleep, that icon tends to wander off somewhere.

And all XP-Pen have to say on that score is to give instructions on how to make it appear again--which only works half the time and may require a restart anyway. I’ve since figured out where the config application itself is kept, and made a shortcut to it in my start menu. In case anyone else is having the same troubles as me, here’s the file path: “C:\Windows\SysWOW64\tabcfg.exe”

Screen

This tablet has a screen! Still getting over that XD

The screen is only 10.1″ corner to corner, which is a little smaller than the average screen tablet such as the Cintiqs. But it’s plenty big enough when it’s sitting right in front of your for actual drawing.

Another reason I pulled the trigger on buying one of these is to get a second screen. I often watch various Youtube videos in the background while I’m playing games and whatnot. I used to prop my Chromebook up next to my regular monitor. This worked fine, but pausing everything when someone came in to speak to me (just a politeness thing I like to employ; nothing sneaky going on)... was a bit of a hassle. And balancing the audio between devices had its own fiddliness (besides the piddly Chromebook speakers not being able to get loud enough for quieter videos).

But now, with two monitors hooked up to the same computer, everything’s a lot easier. I can move windows between screens easily enough. And pausing a video is as simple as moving the mouse over to the other screen and clicking.

Colour Calibration

However! I am having some trouble with the colours. I was drawing away just fine, a simple cartoon character to try out the shading tools and so on and get used to Krita. Then for whatever reason, I saw the picture on my main monitor. The skin tone was way off--too red for what I was actually going for. It seems the tablet screen likes to give everything a yellow tint--making picking colours pretty tricky.

I’ve tried keeping a preview window open on my main monitor so I can see the “true” colours, but this is really not conducive to a productive work space. Or something ^^

I spend a few days trying to configure the colour management side of things from Windows and NVIDIA (the tablet has back light brightness buttons and that’s it)... but it’s just darned fiddly! I can never quite be sure if it looks right or not--or if both screens at least look similar. All I want is a “click on a colour on the screen, and remove some yellowness from it.” You wouldn’t have thought it would be that hard to do, would you?

But instead I had to use gamma, brightness, and contrast sliders. I think I get brightness and contrast... and I thought I knew what gamma was. But it just never turns out quite how I expect. All I want is a step-by-step tutorial on “First, get your gamma correct across all colours. Here’s how you do that...” And so on and so forth.

There are plenty of test-card images out there, which are a good start. But nothing giving you a list of instructions.

See, if you fix the brightness and contrast, it doesn’t necessarily mean things look right. So then you mess with the gamma and nothing makes sense any more. It seems as though you need to adjust all 3 at the same time to be sure you’re actually making any progress.

I even had a Windows bug where my colours wouldn’t stick. I had to create a new user account (with all the headaches of setting things up all over again) just to fix that issue and make any progress whatsoever!

/sigh/

And this doesn’t even talk about the contrast issues it already has. No matter what I do, it’s too bright in some areas and too dark in others. And with my colours fixed the way they are now, they look closer to my main monitor but not perfect. And they make some things just look a tad awful, across the board.

I’m managing, though. Using it for art--at least black and white art--is great, and as long as I focus on the tablet itself, the colours work just fine.

I did contact XP-Pen, to see if they had a solution. Most companies allow you to download an .icc file--a colour profile so the computer can correct a monitor’s output perfectly--but they just straight-up don’t. After 3 workdays of waiting, they told me to use Windows’ built-in calibration tools--which of course I’d been bashing my head against for the past week.

In case anyone else is having similar colour problems, I’ll give you the settings I used to half-fix it. Note that this is far from perfect, but it certainly seems a lot better than it was before, to my eye.

As I have an NVIDIA graphics card, I used their control panel to change the settings to the following values:

Red: 85% Brightness, 25% Contrast, 0.69 Gamma.

Green: 62% Brightness, 25% Contrast, 0.89 Gamma.

Blue: 90% Brightness, 25% Contrast, 0.72 Gamma.

I think the “All channels” part is just an average of the 3 colours. But in case it’s not...

All channels: 77% Brightness, 25% Contrast, 0.76 Gamma.

XP-Pen

That brings me onto the company itself. From what I understand, they’re a small company out of China? Or maybe the US? Or both? It’s really hard to tell from their website.

But anyway... I can only assume they’re too small a company to really provide decent support for their products. The response time is way too high, considering the price tags attached to their products. And the “shrug” attitude instead of providing solutions didn’t go down well with me.

Now, there are devices out there that calibrate a screen for you. The cheapest I could find is £90, and comes with a single-computer license. And that’s fair enough; most people don’t need them, and the ones that really need them are photography professionals who have to be willing to shell out some cash or produce poor work. But I’d prefer not to have to get one just to use it once and never look at it again.

The thing is, with this calibration thing, XP-Pen saying something very telling to the customer. They aren’t willing to get a calibration tool themselves, use it on a tablet, and make the resulting .icc file available for all of their customers to use--at least as a good starting point. Instead, they insist that each individual customer buys one themselves if they want any hope of getting relatively accurate colours from their purchase.

I may contact them again, to point this out to them. I mean, it may be that my unit is simply faulty and should be replaced... but then it should be replaced.

/sigh again/

Overall

I am happy with using the tablet. The tech is amazing, for the price. But such a lack of support is really dragging down the experience.

I highly recommend getting a screen tablet. If not this one, then perhaps another. Maybe your Artist 10S won’t have this issue at all and it’ll be perfect right off the bat.

It’s so awesome to be able to draw on your screen, and has really helped me get back into art-ing. I can already see improvement in my skill over the past week, through drawing every day after such a long time not drawing at all!

#Graphics Tablet #Screen #Colour Calibration #Xp-Pen

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a-mad-scientist-approaches · 6 years

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Multiverse is a Curse Word (3)

Here it is, another chapter. I have about half of this fic already all written out, so updates will be pretty close together and regular for a while.

Adeline Marks is @hntrgurl13‘s OC, and the Dimension Jumper and Drifting Dimensions AUs that are, I dunno, crossovers for this fic also belong to her.

The Adrift AU was made by @the-subpar-ghost, but the accompanying Drifting Stars fic is not the origin story for this one.

Addiford has, yet again, not arrived, but you might be able to see it as a speck in the distance now. The ship is from @scipunk63.

Gravity Falls is amazing, Alex Hirsch is a genius.

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista, your contributions are the unfailing encouragement you give me.

AO3 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Chapter 3: Stanford Pines, Guardian of the Year

When Ford awoke, he was content. Not simply as the default state of waking up unhurt and momentarily safe, but really, truly happy. The last time he had felt so good he had had a home, a family, and a future.

He heard Mabel laugh and turned his head toward the sound. It filled him up with warmth and light.

She was sitting with her legs crossed on a recovery bed, talking animatedly to a green octopus-like person wearing a black medical band on one of their appendages. They had no visible mouth, but their voice emanated from somewhere under their main body, so Ford assumed they had a beak like many cephalopods on Earth. The room all three of them were in was unmistakeably a small hospital ward, with barely enough room for two patients. A two-way mirror encompassed one wall, the reflective side facing him and Mabel. This did not bother him as much as it normally would have.

“Wow, your tentacles are amazing! They’re so much handier than hands!”

The being chuckled and affectionately ruffled Mabel’s hair. “They’re pretty useful. I can do all sorts of things with them.” To prove their point, they curled three around to spell out “Kot.”

“That’s your name! Can you do mine?” The girl asked eagerly.

“Sure.” Five tentacles twirled around until “Mabel” was written out in neat cursive.

“That is the coolest thing I have ever seen in my entire life,” Mabel gasped enthusiastically.

“Hey, looks like my other patient is awake.” Kot noticed suddenly, moving over to Ford’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Placid,” he answered honestly. He wondered if it was normal that everything seemed slowed down, so much less urgent than before.

“That’s the sedative. It should wear off soon.” The doctor explained. Ford tried not to feel disappointed.

“While you were both out I vaccinated you against the virus you picked up; it’s particularly nasty, originally a bioweapon manufactured by Wikert Expansion Enterprises. Only their scientists know how to counteract it, so you are very lucky I defected, and even more lucky I was here when you arrived,” Kot stared meaningfully at Ford, but the impact of their words was lost on him. The most he could do was try to nod seriously.

“I also had to synthesise Mabel’s blood and perform a transfusion to keep it from advancing into the third stage. I assumed that would be okay as you do seem to care for her well-being, although this was a bit of a toss-up seeing as you tried to attack me when I was getting her help,” Again, the barbed comment did little to disrupt Ford’s complacency.

“A thank you would be nice,” Kot said sharply.

“Thank you,” Ford said, channelling as much gratitude as he could into the words.

“You’re welcome.” With that, the doctor spun around and headed through the exit. “Whenever you like, Mabel. Feel free to take your time.”

Mabel smiled her acknowledgement of the cryptic message and hopped off her bed to approach Ford.

“You look really happy.” she said conversationally. “It’s weird. Usually you’re a big frowny-face.”

Ford laughed. “I expect I’ll be back to being grumpy soon, never fear.” It was strange how soft everything felt. He stretched out a hand and tucked a lock of hair behind his niece’s ear. “That was clever thinking, with the resistance signal. I would not have remembered it, especially if I had been as sick as you. You’re a smart person, Mabel.”

When she beamed at the praise it was as though the Sun had come out.

“Friendship is the best weapon to fight with!” she said wisely. “Metaphorically, I mean. Literally, it’s probably those cannons we saw on Tetrax 4.”

Despite the sedative’s uncannily effective soothing power, the reality of how close they had both come to the doors of death was starting to sink in. Still not removing his hand from cupping the back of her head, Ford felt a surge of affection for his niece.

“Mabel, I love you so much, and I am so glad you’re safe,”

“Awww, I love you too,” she gave him a warm hug, grinning broadly. Ford was pretty sure she was laughing at his ridiculously lucid state, however this same state kept him from being bothered.

“The resistance people want to talk to you.” Mabel said, pulling back.

“Okay.” Ford nodded, sitting up.

“But you gotta promise you’re not gonna freak out and go all paranoid. Kot said they know that’s a running thing with you.” Mabel gave him a stern look. Bemused, Ford promised.

“YOU CAN COME IN NOW!” Mabel yelled at the two-way mirror.

The door swung open and Adeline Marks stepped through. The first thing she did was walk over and swat Ford’s shoulder.

⃝

Beyond the mirror was a small room with a station that monitored the health of the patients. This was where Adeline took him to berate him for running off and almost dying. By the time she had finished he was sure the sedative was wearing off, as he was no longer in as good a mood as previously. He wondered why she cared.

Adeline was not wearing her overcoat.

“Where’s your necklace?” He asked, tendrils of suspicion starting to creep back into his mind.

“I took it off so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea again,”

After a slight hesitation, she pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to him. It was a plain gold triangle, no decorations of any kind. Most significantly, it did not even have the barest hint of a circle in the middle to act as an eye. There was no way Cipher was watching through this.

“Alright,” he relented, giving it back. “I apologise. However, you can’t blame me for reacting the way I did. Why do you have something like that?”

“It’s the only thing I have left from home.” Adeline said simply. “I’ve had it for over thirty years, ever since I fell through the portal. I’m not giving it up now.”

Ford nodded in understanding. After a few quiet seconds, Adeline ventured, “So … when you built your portal, I wasn’t there?”

“No, only Fidds,” he winced.

“Did you come through on purpose?” It was impossible to miss the hopeless pleading in her question, the idea that there might be a way home hovering just out of reach.

“I’m sorry, no. It … was an accident,” That did not stop him from being angry.

As though she had read his thoughts, Adeline said sympathetically, “I was angry for a while too. Even though it was an accident, and I’d managed to tell you what Bill was planning, what was on the other side … I still wanted you to open that portal back up and come find me. Which was selfish, I know,” she sighed, “and I’m glad you didn’t. Fate of the world and all.”

Unsure how to respond, Ford kept quiet. Relative strangers unloading their issues onto him as though he was some interdimensional travelling therapist was not a frequent occurrence in his life.

They were shaken out of their thoughts by Mabel’s laugh from inside the recovery room. Kot was entertaining her with more tentacle tricks.

“Is she yours?” Adeline smiled, tilting her head towards the scene.

“No, no.” Ford said quickly. “My brother’s, sort of, I mean, she’s my great-niece.”

“Oh. Sorry. She’s a sweet kid. I was just wondering how she ended up out here,”

“Another accident with the portal,” Ford said darkly. “She doesn’t like to talk about it, but apparently something went wrong when Stanley, my other brother, turned it on trying to get me back. So, she ended up here – in this hellscape called the multiverse.”

Seemingly unperturbed by the grim atmosphere the room had adopted, Adeline nudged him light-heartedly.

“She’ll be fine. She has you to look out for her,”

“Well you’ve seen how good I’ve been at that: participated in morally questionable money-making scheme, attacked by gambler, infected with deadly bioweapon,” he checked off.

“Occupied the attention of said gambler so she could escape, leaped into action the second you thought you were no longer safe, had to be sedated before you stopped trying to protect her.” Adeline countered. “You deserve a ‘Guardian of the Year’ medal.”

He had to smile at that, and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Ford had not really thought about it before, but it had been far longer than three decades since he had felt as though he was wanted around, much less needed. He’d missed that feeling.

Ford jerked his head up to look at Adeline in horror. Shit, I didn’t say that out loud did I?

Adeline was obviously biting back another smile.

“That sedative sure is strong, huh?” she suggested.

“Yes,” he said gratefully, clearing his throat and feeling the last of it trickle away. Even without it, he felt completely at ease in her company now.

⃝

Half an hour later, Addi decided to take them to the guy who ran the place. She watched happily as Stanford and Mabel walked with her through the structure, quite impressed. It was nothing special, other than its size - all grey concrete and rectangular corridors and square rooms – however, there was not a vast number of people situated there for a building of its enormity: only about a hundred. It seemed practically deserted.

“Is this some kind of castle?” asked Mabel in awe as Addi led them into a wide, open space. “I bet this was the throne room. Kinda bland though. I can see why the monarchy crumbled.”

“No, this was a military installation of a corporation called Wikert Expansion Enterprises. A resistance cell took it back a few years ago, and it’s become a headquarters for them,”

There were groups of chairs strewn around tables, several crates full of messes of machinery, and a couple huddles of people playing card games here and there.

“Quite the operation you have here,” Stanford said dryly, looking around at the absence of activity.

“Well it is only the afternoon. It’ll fill up later tonight.” The man looked at her. “Alright, not by much.” She admitted.

“Yeah Grunkle Ford, they’re all on secret missions to fight injustice! How can we help?” Mabel enthused.

“No.” Stanford said sharply. “We will not be getting involved with these people any more than we have to.”

“In that case, hopefully you will soon be on your way,” a new voice said.

Addi smiled at her friend, who shook hands with Stanford and Mabel. He looked like an upright polar bear, but with four arms and a face more human than snoutish. His appearance obviously delighted Mabel, who took the opportunity to stroke his fur during their handshake.

“Creepy.” He noted, slightly taken aback. “I am in charge of this resistance cell. My name is-” he made a growling, barking sound.

Stanford stared. Stanford looked at Addi expressionlessly.

“I call him Wesley,” she deadpanned.

“I do like that name.” Wesley nodded.

“Can I still call you-” Mabel replicated the sound exactly.

“You may,”

“Cool,”

Amazed at the girl’s vocal skills, Addi pulled out a chair at nearby table, gesturing for the others to join her.

“I of course have no wish to force you into our ranks. I know that not every resistance can be pleasant to get along with, as you have mentioned to Marks here. There are always a few that are keen to go to extremes,”

“Thank you for understanding.” Stanford said slowly. “I’m sure you have good intentions, but it’s not something I want to involve a child in.”

“Reasonable. We have room for you here, if you wish to stay – for however long you please. I will require a small favour in return, though.” Before Ford could reply, Wesley continued. “The technological floor of this building has many secrets that are sealed off from us. We have had some issues dismantling security protocols, and although Marks here has managed to get us most of the way, we seem to have hit a wall.”

“I mentioned that you’re a physicist, and you did a lot of coding in university.” Addi supplied, slightly apologetically. “I don’t know if you kept it up?”

“Yes, actually, I have a doctorate in it now,”

Stanford’s voice was casual, but Addi could practically see the smugness radiating from him.

Oh yes, I earnt a doctorate in technology and coding while travelling through dimensions, no biggie, in your face Fiddleford, I can fix my own computer now …

She had to fight to hold in her laughter.

“Grunkle Ford’s, like, the biggest nerd ever, even bigger than my brother, and that’s saying something let me tell you.” Mabel told Wesley earnestly. “Grunkle Ford, if you don’t unlock this resistance’s lab, your nerd card will be revoked. Revoked I say!”

“I’ll do my best,” Stanford half-laughed.

“That is all I can ask.” Said Wesley fairly. “The main system is right here …” he waved a hand and the table sprouted a hologram. Mabel whoooaaaaed at the sudden light show, and Stanford sat forward, examining the lines of code intently. After a moment he nodded and brought up a keyboard.

⃝

Mabel was starting to fidget. Addi watched as she swivelled around in her chair to look at the rest of the so-called “wreck-room”, then went back to staring at the colours in the hologram, then played with the edge of her uncle’s coat, then asked Wesley about his beaded necklace, then about the animal his boots were made of, and so on. To be honest, Adeline was getting bored too. Stanford clearly did not need any help.

“Hey Mabel, want to do something cool?” she asked impulsively.

“Do I?!” Mabel answered in relief. “Yes. Yes I do. Very much. Please.”

“Come on then.” Addi got up and nodded to a space a little way away.

“Stay close,” Stanford said absently, still absorbed in typing commands into the system.

When they got to the space she had indicated, Mabel asked eagerly, “So what are we doing?”

“Well, I thought you might want to learn some sword-fighting.” Addi grinned and drew Big Bertha. Its razor-sharp curved edge glinted, and an elliptical section cut out of it especially drew the eye. The girl was entranced.

“She’s beautiful …” breathed Mabel, eyes wide. “You’re like a pirate! Do you swashbuckle often?”

“Um … I wouldn’t know how to,”

“She looks sharp. Do you want me to hold her? I mean, sure, I could have some hidden sword-fighting ability we’re about to unlock-”

“No, no, let’s stick to the safer method.” Addi said hastily. “There’s a couple levers in that box behind you we’ll use. And it might be best if you take off your coat. You’re going to get pretty warm.”

⃝

“Nooooooo! You’ve defeated me! Curse your hour and a half of training!” Addi wasn’t quite sure when their lesson had evolved into a pirate-themed play-date, but she did not regret it.

“Arrrrrgh! I hereby claim your treasure and your ship, and cast your crewmates overboard to be eaten by sharks!”

“Dude,”

“Sorry. Nevermind! I cast your crewmates overboard onto dry land, where they can set up a nice restaurant and be forced to earn their booty through legal means!”

With that, Mabel flopped down on the ground beside Addi, both of them breathing hard. There had been some intensive play-acting.

Stanford and Wesley, who had left sometime previously, returned in triumph.

“Finished! There was a hidden firewall which activated some armed robots and almost set off an explosion, but I got to it in the nick of time. Anyway, how’d you two go?”

“Good. Addi taught me how to thrust, swing, block, and jump across pirate ships with a barrel of treasure in my arms,” recounted Mabel.

“She’s a natural, your niece.” Addi grinned up at Stanford. “Want some food?”

At their fervent replies, she motioned for Stanford to help her up.

“Cantina’s that way,” she said as he pulled her to her feet.

Another half hour later, Mabel finished her third bowl of soup and nudged Addi, who was sitting to her left on an extremely old couch. Stanford was on Mabel’s other side, warming his hands on a large can with a fire in it.

“Are they more resisters?” she was pointing at a group who had entered and were giving them curious looks.

“Yeah. Do me a favour and keep away from them. I’ll make sure they do the same for you,”

“Don’t you trust them? You’re involved with their movement,” Stanford frowned.

“I trust Wesley, and I think he has a good cause. But some of his methods can be questionable, and the people he gets involved … well, I don’t stick around for a reason. They’re … really not nice,” She had to keep herself from saying “fucking psychopaths” in the presence of a twelve-year-old. Fortunately, Stanford seemed to get the message.

“Mercenaries?” he switched to another language.

“Some,” she replied grimly.

“Hey! Include me,” demanded Mabel, nudging her uncle in his ribs. Her eyes widened as he jolted away, a small laugh escaping him.

“Are you ticklish?”

“… No,” the man said warily.

“Don’t listen to him Mabel, he’s the most ticklish person I’ve ever met.”

Before Stanford could open his mouth to form the word “traitor”, Mabel was on him, unleashing a battle cry of “I can’t believe I never knew!”

Addi covered her face with her hands, snorting at the panic emanating from the opposite end of the couch. After a few minutes of torture, Stanford managed to catch his niece’s hands amidst his involuntary spasming and restrain her enough to regain his breath and wipe his eyes clear of tears.

“I think I might have to get the security footage for this room.” Addi teased. “I’ll watch it whenever I’m sad and it’ll put me in a good mood for days.”

“Surrender!” cackled Mabel.

Stanford grinned and gave her a look. “You first,” was all the warning Mabel got before she was squealing and writhing around in turn, Stanford’s extra fingers doing a number on her.

“Help!” Mabel begged Addi.

“Uh, I’m sorry, a lack of treasure and pirate crewmates prevents me from performing any daring rescues,”

With that, Mabel was only released when she threatened to pee herself. Weakly, she retreated to the safety of Adeline’s end of the couch and sprawled across her, still gasping and giggling occasionally.

Definitely going to have to grab that security tape, Addi thought, wrapping an arm around the girl and laughing herself.

⃝

“You can stay in here tonight. All your equipment’s in the corner.” Addi directed as Mabel walked into the door-less room and collapsed on the bed. “You’ll have to share, sorry.”

“No, this is actually preferable.” Stanford said, glancing at the opening.

“All the old offices are like this.” Apologised Addi. “See you in the morning then.”

“Goodnight,”

She made it halfway down the corridor towards her own room before she heard the footsteps. Then she turned and hurried back the way she came.

Reaching her friends’ room, she seized the creature peering inside and shoved him against the opposite wall.

“Get. Away. From. Them,” she hissed.

“Aww, come on Marks, I just wanted a little look,”

“Well unfortunately you got it. Now scram!”

“But they’re humans! They only human I ever see around here is you, and you’re no fun anymore,” Dek wheedled.

Pushing down the sick feeling in her stomach, she sent his spindly form stumbling down the corridor with a well-aimed punch.

“I’m only going to tell you once: back off!” said Addi in a low voice. She reinforced the warning by flicking the switch on Big Bertha. The electric field it generated to disrupt and deflect lasers also worked as a deterrent against some species, thankfully. Snarling, he retreated, seeing that the only thing he would be getting for staying was trouble.

Adeline stationed herself outside Stanford and Mabel’s room.

Looks like another sleepless night on watch.

Regrettably, she doubted Dek was the worst visitor she would encounter that night.

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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I Remember You Differently (Trixya) - Chapter 2 - goth

One more high school lesbian AU for the good people of this blog. It’s the end of senior year, prom season, and Trixie thought she was finally over her crush on Katya from freshman year drama class. She was wrong. Kim is over it before it even starts.

A/N: Thank you so much guys for the support. I mapped out this entire fic, epilogue included, which should make writing it easier and faster. In this installment, Trixie is roasted by family and friends alike. In the next, we’ll get started on Trixya flirting, and I’ll be introducing some Sashea into the mix soon.

Trixie is halfway through her house’s side door, when she hears someone bitching and whining.

The high-pitch whines can only belong to her younger sister. Farrah. Trixie wishes it was because the poor girl has a fever, but if anything, being sick has toned her down.

“Hey losers. I’m home.”

Farrah, swathed in a blanket like a baby, turns around in her chair. She frowns at Trixie, who’s setting her pink backpack on the couch. “Why do you even go to school? You only go for a couple hours.”

Trixie walks into the kitchen and musses up Farrah’s hair. Their oldest sister, Milk, is preparing dinner. “Farrah,” Milk starts, not looking up from chopping lettuce, “Once you’re as smart as Trixie, then you can spend two hours doing makeup for the three hours you spend at school.”

Farrah’s busy soothing out her hair, when Trixie sits next to her, she dodges Trixie’s half-hearted attempts to muss it up more. Trixie rolls her eyes. “Milk, please. You wear as much as me.”

Farrah pulls her hands out of her hair, and touches her cheeks. “My teacher told me I wear too much highlighter.”

“Oh my God,” Trixie muffles a laugh with her hand. “Farrah, everyone wears too much highlighter freshman year. Tell her to stuff it.”

Milk stops chopping lettuce and looks over at Trixie, who freezes. She knows exactly where this is going. Milk, along with the rest of the family, has been asking the same question for a month.

“How’s the prom development going, sis?”

“It’s… Going.” Her voice is squeaky. She avoids the curious look from Milk, only to fall right into Farrah’s. Fuck.

“Did a girl finally ask you out? Did you finally ask a girl out?” The excitement pours out of her so rapidly, so overwhelmingly, Trixie can’t get a single word in. “I knew you were lying about going in groups. Nobody cool would do that.”

Trixie plants a hand over her younger sister’s mouth. Sometimes, Trixie imagines Farrah never learning how to speak. Or at least whine. “Oh my God, Farrah.”

Milk leans over the counter, her eyes matching the excitement in Farrah’s. Neither of them are adopted, that’s for sure. “Wait, is Farrah actually onto something?”

Farrah wriggles out of Trixie’s grasp and pouts. “Hey!”

“That wasn’t an insult, honey,” Milk props a fist under her chin and taps Trixie’s arm with her finger. “Who is she?”

“I have a project to work on. Bye.”

……

Trixie blows on the fresh-painted nails of her left hand, and slowly sprawls across her bed. She’s careful not to mess up the pink paint, nor the pink sheets. All the while precariously balancing her phone between shoulder and cheek. She’s multi-talented.

And multi-worried.

Trixie’s over-analyzed every second of the exchange between her and Katya, and has made Kim Chi listen to all of it. Deservedly. Bailing rather than being a wing woman is a dick move. Trixie should know, she’s guilty of doing it as often as Kim.

It’s why they bicker like sisters. One of the reasons why, anyway. There’s far too many to list.

“Trixie, you’re just repeating yourself. Can I go? I have to catch up on—”

“Nobody else knows,” She hears Kim sigh. Trixie scoffs. “Who else am I going to talk to? I’d sound crazy.”

Trixie pauses, and rolls over on the bed. She lets her face sink into her pillow. “I am crazy.”

“I can’t understand you.”

“Oh, so my Kim Chi impression is improving.”

“Fuck you, Trixie.”

“Huh. Interesting, you understood that.”

Trixie smiles into her pillow and props herself up, feeling slightly better. Back and forth deadpanning with Kim always improves her mood. The contentment starts to dwindle however, the silence on the other end becoming deafening.

“Did that actually hurt—“

“I’m not the only one who knows.”

Alarms go off in Trixie’s head. Loud, blaring ones. Her heart stops for the second time today. She has about fifty questions to ask, long and detailed, yet all she can muster is a four letter word.

“What?”

“Freshman year. After first semester ended, the girls threw a party to chill you out. You were so depressed.”

“Oh… My God. Don’t tell me I—“

“You did. So drunk. You told Trannika how bad you wanted to suck Katya’s dick. You pretty much repeated the same thing to Shea, Pearl, and anyone else who was within earshot.”

Trixie’s baby pink phone, moments ago pressed so hard against Trixie’s ear the skin turned red, lies at the foot of her bed. On speaker phone. Both hands cover her face. She groans.

“Everyone knows, Trixie.”

“Yeah, uh, I got that part!”

“I told them to never say anything.”

Trixie is unable to voice any emotion she has, all of which are bad, until what Kim last said registers. She breathes in deep. Relaxes her closed eyes.

“Thank you. You’re a good person. I love you.”

“You’re welcome. There’s plenty of other things to make fun of you for.”

“You’re a fucking bitch. I hate you.”

Kim giggles. A small smile spreads, slow, across Trixie’s face. She couldn’t ask for a better best friend.

“We’ll have to get another fucking reservation somewhere else. For the second time.” Kim pauses. “Make sure Katya matches your dress.”

Trixie cringes, and crawls closer to her phone. “Slight problem.”

“What?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Trixie cringes again.

“Um, she’s Maleficent and I’m Sleeping Beauty, for a start.”

“I don’t care, Trixie. We planned this all out a month ago. You and Shea were going to match. I expect the same with your new girlfriend.”

Already the ‘girlfriend’ shit has begun. She’s dreading talking to the other girls about this.

“She’s not—”

“Oh, right. Freshman year. Your old girlfriend, then?”

“Suck a dick. I’m hanging up.”

Kim giggles again. It’s nice, Trixie thinks. Kim sounds even more stressed than Trixie, whose world crumbled, just a little bit, today. She can hear Kim shifting around in bed, clicking on her laptop. Trixie just knows she’s going to fall asleep watching anime.

She’s seen it happen enough times.

“Tomorrow you’re helping me get a new reservation. And at some point this week, you’re taking Katya out shopping.”

“Alright. Love you. Goodnight, Kim.”

“Love you too. Goodnight, Trixie.”

……

Four years of never hearing a single word about Katya, courtesy of her sisterly bond with Kim Chi, goes down the drain in one night. Post revelation phone call, Trixie’s been harassed by each and every one of her friends.

All at once, too. The girls gathered together for the last weekend before prom week. The last weekend of stress, as Trixie and Kim managed to get an updated reservation. What was supposed to be a fun two days of drinking at Fame’s house quickly turned into a roast.

William and Trannika are the worst culprits.

“Okay, but her name is Ketchup, though.”

“Trixie wants to eat her hotdog.”

William and Trannika, respectively.

“Oh my God.” Trixie leans back against the couch, pressing the cool plastic of a pink solo cup against her forehead. She, at the least, looks fabulous while her love life is being torn to shreds.

“Katya’s hot,” Trannika starts again, leaning her cheek upon Trixie’s shoulder. “I’ve seen her drink her own blood. I’m so into that.”

“Kim, I’m blaming you for this.”

“I prevented this from happening for four years.”

“Kim blue-balled us, comedically.” William offers, “But Trixie blue-balled Katya, romantically.”

“Trixie asks me for chapstick once a week,” Trannika starts, and presses a kiss onto Trixie’s shoulder. “I just didn’t realize it was for her dry pussy.” Trixie shoves her off.

“I need another drink.” Trixie pushes herself up off the couch and wanders into Fame’s kitchen. They’ve had so many parties here, she’s not sure she’d find the fridge if she was sober. Bent over, searching for another light beer, she grumbles when someone taps her shoulder.

“You good?”

Trixie pops up, nearly banging her head on the fridge shelf. She spins around, surprised it’s Shea looking concerned, rather than William trying to grab her ass.

“Totally.”

Shea frowns. “I’m serious. I’m not gonna lie, those bitches are making me laugh so hard, but if they’re actually hurting your feelings—“

“Shea, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine. I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on her for four years,” Trixie shrugs. “So what. I’m not obsessed. I have a life. I forget Katya exists ninety-nine percent of the time.”

She can’t find the right words to say. She just says all of them.

“It’s been like, off and on. That kind of crush. Junior year, I almost completely forgot about her. I see her every now and then. Handful of times over the course of four years. Those are the times when I think about wanting to kiss her, that’s it. You know?”

“I know.”

“There’s been other girls. It’s not like, oh, she’s the one! I mean, maybe? We’ll see. I guess, but how lame is that? If I kiss her at my high school prom and she’s the love of my life. Gross.”

Trixie can’t stop talking.

“I just think she’s cute. And nice, and funny. And so on. I’m not in love. If I was, then yeah, I’d be offended, but I’d also be a crazy woman.”

Shea’s silent for a few moments. Trixie considers stepping backwards into the open fridge, shutting the door, and never coming back out.

“You need some rest.”

Trixie sighs, looking down into her empty cup, and nods. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

#goth #i remember you differently #trixya #high school au #lesbian au #cisgirl au #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #fluff #tw alcohol #tw anxiety #rpdr fanfiction #submission

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