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uniformbravo · 2 years ago

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it's nanowrimo & i havent touched my wip since last year so im gonna reread it all rn to jog my memory lets goooo

"And so, class, as you can see, blah blah blah…"

Silan wasn't listening, so neither should you have to.

i didn't know how to start it skjfdkngkf

goes on for several paragraphs about why he wasnt paying attention, making up a bunch of bullshit about him being sooooo sleeby bc he watched a horror movie last night & then couldn't sleep, fascinating stuff

So no, he wasn't listening to the lesson going on at the front of the room, nor was he prepared in the very least to be called on suddenly.

"Silan, what's your answer to number fifteen?"

Like a bucket of ice water was sitting upright on the ground beside him instead of upturned over his head, Silan's brain fog persisted as he struggled to catch up with the moment.

ok fine the ice bucket line is kinda funny im here to subvert ur expectations not unlike a mime thats allowed to say fuck

"Y equals seven…?" he guessed, understanding completely as he said it that it definitely would have been better to just say "I don't know," or "Could you repeat that?" or even "Sorry, I didn't sleep well because I watched a horror movie before bed and was too scared to fall asleep for hours and now I can't focus because I'm so tired, so I honestly have no idea what's going on right now."

As it was, his actual answer garnered a few laughs scattered around the room, from people who'd given Silan way too much credit and assumed it was a very intentional joke. He couldn't look his teacher in the eye, that knowing gaze piercing right through him as if to say, "You may have fooled them, but not me. I know that was a real attempt at an answer, and I am disappointed in you on multiple levels. I'll see you in my office and also you have detention forever."

What he actually said was, "Mr. Scott, this is a Biology class."

CHRIST i take it back im a comedic genius

Chris is A Dude in Silan's class, but he's so much more than that; sports ball player man, wearer of varsity jackets and knee-length shorts of all varieties, copier of his friends' homework whenever one of them has actually done it on time… He truly is just Some Guy, but to Silan? He is The Guy.

WHAT are u fuckin TALKING ABOUT HELLO

If Silan himself were to be the one to describe Chris, that paragraph would have probably gone a lot more like: Chris is on the baseball team, so he's fairly muscular; he has a sharp, square jaw and dark brown hair that's not quite long enough to submit to gravity just yet, so it sticks up and looks just sooo fluffy and soft (do you think he lets anyone touch it?). He's never actually grown a beard but he does have stubble across his chin and jaw that suits him extremely well. His eyes are brown and his skin is a natural tan and it all suits him perfectly and he's hot okay. He's hot.

Silan is gay.

and he is being sooo normal about chris

They'd only ever spoken a total of two times; once when Chris had gotten the rows confused on a day he'd seemed particularly groggy (this class ran from 10:45 to 12:15 and was the one right before lunch, though, so it was beyond Silan what exactly had put him in such a state) ((I'm the author though, so I know exactly what it was, and it's that he'd been out nearly all night with his friends to the subsequent dismay and rage of his parents, and his request to stay home from school the next day was vehemently denied)),

this is fucking unhinged. publish me right now

That had been just a few weeks ago; the other time was last year (junior year, or 11th grade, or year 3 out of 4 of high school, whatever makes the most sense to those unacquainted with the American school system) in April and I will tell you more about it later.

FUCKING HELLO

It was the urge to doodle their initials in a heart together in the margins of his notebook like… like some kind of lovesick middle schooler (not that. He'd ever done that. In middle school,).

silan would never

The combination made him want to launch himself directly out the window, had one existed (the only windows were over by the door, which Silan sat pretty much across the room from).

He was kinda fucked.

tfw u cant throw urself out the window bc of ur school's evil fucked up floor plan

Rhoden, while still fairly small for his age, definitely isn't the same kid Silan met back then. There's a maturity to his jaw, his brow, that he's really come into since, and his voice has deepened considerably; anyone who might still initially mistake him for a much younger boy would be instantly enlightened the second he opened his mouth. And then they'd have to figure out how to politely decline a spontaneous interview proposal from a guy they'd thought was twelve two seconds ago.

when u get within a certain radius of him a giant health bar appears at the top of the screen & boss music starts playing

Today, though, was a photography day.

They were always Silan's favorites. He did enjoy his other tasks, in general, but none of them were as fun or freeing as photography.

It made him look at the world around him differently. Taking such a wide expanse of possibility and narrowing it down to that one perfect shot; knowing where to look and how to find potential. It was capturing a moment, but not just that; it was turning a moment, even the smallest, mundanest occurrence, into something timeless- into something special.

(And, of course, there were other perks to the job, but we'll get to those later.)

i am 100% certain said "perks" are getting to Observe chris at baseball practice which is a very funny juxtaposition to the previous paragraph

"photography is a timeless art form, truly nothing as magical or poignant could ever exist.... also i get to look at hot boys cha-CHING"

"Silan," she called out now in lieu of a team name, since the work of a photographer was mostly individual.

"I'm, uh, shooting baseball practice today."

😏

A few short minutes later, Silan was signing off for the club's camera, which he needed permission for every time. This was one of Mrs. Springet's few roles as an advisor, to make sure the camera wasn't being stolen. It was a nice camera, to be fair.

Oh To Steal The Journalism Club's Nice Camera

While Chaulden High did have a football team, the undisputed star of the show was the baseball team; with a coach that led them to victory time and time again, it wasn't hard to see why.

As such, the New Moon always made sure to leave room for a section on the team, even going as far as establishing a series they ran every year called "Dug-Ins & Outs," in which various members of the team were interviewed.

ok still proud of that title TBH

Which meant Silan was often sent to obtain shots of the team, which was no problem. Less than no problem. He was pretty fine with it, actually. Perhaps even looked forward to it, some might say.

Because Silan was definitely interested in the team, as a whole, all twenty-six members. All of them, and not a single one more than the rest. He would never single a specific member out to accidentally focus 90% of his attention on. That would be ridiculous, and highly unprofessional of him. Perish the thought.

…

So uh. Chris is on the baseball team,

cups hands around mouth fucken NERD

The coach, Mr. Wendell, stood with a clipboard tucked under his arm by the dugout, clapping and calling out to members who were lagging behind in the group of joggers. He always made Silan nervous, if he were honest. He was something of a hardass, with high expectations for his team and a grueling training regimen he held them all to. He had a loud voice and a firm handshake, was broad shouldered and tall, and if Silan weren't so intimidated by him he might even find him [REDACTED].

OK ALRIGHT CALM DOWN THERE BUDDY

CRASH!

Just as he clicked the shutter the chain-link fence behind him exploded into sound and he jumped violently, sending all of the birds flying. Heart pounding, he sat up and turned around to figure out what the hell that was.

On the other side of the fence was one of the team members leaning down to scoop up the offending ball as the coach's voice echoed across the field, "Stop fucking around, Neely!"

fucking Neely

It took him a good five or six more minutes to calm down, sitting there in the grass and pretending to flip through photos on his camera. This time he made sure to face the fence to avoid a repeat scenario- because of course, Silan was known to have the reflexes of a tiger and wouldn't even flinch were another ball to come hurling at the fence.

jotting this down in my Extremely True Silan Facts notebook

He sat on the very top row and zoomed in on the players, scattered across the field. The fence still sat between him and the rest of them, reaching high for maximum audience-shielding ability, so he decided to see how many of the players' heads he could frame perfectly within the open links in a single shot.

His average came out to about four, mostly because it was basically impossible to keep track of any more than that at once, but he did manage to get one with six on accident, so that was pretty neat. It didn't help that they were all constantly moving around- Silan probably would have had more luck trying this with the birds.

He spent about another twenty minutes doing this, occasionally moving to other parts of the bleachers for different angles to see if they made any difference (they didn't; the lower he went the wider the holes got but also the closer together the player's heads became, so it balanced out), before the main event, as far as he was concerned, finally began: batting.

silan: boy oh boy i can't wait to take pictures of the baseball team!!!

also silan: does this bullshit

Everyone knew baseball players looked coolest and most iconic when at bat, and anyone who disagreed was simply wrong (second best was pitching, third was sliding). Silan's opinion on this was in no way swayed by visuals of Chris that may or may not have been burned into his memory.

Evidence:

[three pictures of a batter, a pitcher, and a sliding athlete respectively side-by-side, the batter obviously being the coolest most hyped up one with dynamic lighting and stuff, whereas the pitcher and the slider are intentionally lame, like cheap-looking clip art or pictures where they're making really ugly faces]

im gonna lose my fuckin shit (no theres no actual pictures this was just a place holder for when i eventually found & inserted them which i was absolutely planning on doing)

He stayed on the other side of the fence, lest a stray ball hit him (or worse, the camera)

TRU

He was tall (he had several inches on Silan and a good few on Chris), and he was slender and lean and really quite handsome in general. His thick, curly black hair was neatly shaved close to his head and the corners of his jaw were pleasantly pronounced.

Not that Silan could see any of that from this distance, especially with the helmet obscuring most of it. But as a member of the newspaper club these were things he had to know. For professional reasons.

i believe him

He should have been adjusting his position to line up the perfect shot, but it was hard not to watch as Chris rose up on one foot, twisting his torso with his arms raised and clutching the ball- then sprung into action by slamming his foot back down into the dirt and following the momentum with his upper body, arm arcing into a powerful throw. A split second after Silan saw the ball hit the backboard he heard the noise, a loud, solid smack!

God. God.

SCREAMS ALRIGHT SILAN CALM DOWN FKFSKGNKSDJFKD

"Make sure you're getting my good side, yeah?" He joked, grinning and striking a stupid pose.

silan watching chris: beautiful. flawless. show stopping. groundbreaking. so so hot and sexy hehehauhaoehemeheuenana

silan watching lucas: clown ass motherfucker striking his goofy ass POSE what an idiot 000/10

"Yo," Devon greeted as he pulled himself to his feet, flashing his hand in a pseudo wave.

"H-hi," Silan answered haltingly, heart beating a little fast from the maneuver he'd just had to pull. Devon offered what Silan could only describe as a dashing grin before turning his attention back towards home.

hee hee hee hiiiiiii devonnnn *twirls hair* (silan impression)

They rarely talked but Devon had always come off as a nice guy with a friendly vibe. He'd certainly never referred to the newspaper club as Mooners- not that Silan had heard, anyway. Though it wouldn't be such a big deal if he did, since the nickname was pretty widespread at this point. But it was nice that he didn't.

Also, he really was quite handsome.

this would have been a very different story had silan gone for devon instead of chris, devon would NEVER pull the shit chris is about to pull in this story fksndkjfdkjg he doesn't even call them mooners 😭

(school newspaper is called the new moon so people call the club members new mooners, an extremely clever & funny joke that i came up with myself)

(ok context, silan was gonna take a pic of chris sliding (the team's doing this whole exercise where they alternate from pitching to hitting to sliding) but bc he was so focused on getting the shot he didn't realize the ball was headed right for him so chris collided w him trying to intercept it)

Silan turned around, seeing the coach standing with his arms crossed as Chris examined his elbow. He looked up when Silan moved.

"Thank Christ. That was stupid as hell, you both could've gotten way more hurt." He hadn't even checked if Silan had been injured. "Jumping over another guy like that. We're not a goddamn gymnastics routine."

"But I caught the ball," Chris grinned, holding it up and waggling it around. Silan immediately had to stop himself from asking if he could have it.

LMAO SILAN???????????? DOWN SO FUCKING BAD

As he walked off herding the team away, Chris stepped closer to Silan, instantly setting his heartbeat into overdrive, more than it already was.

"Your shoulder okay?" he asked with a gesture towards the shoulder in question, and Silan just about passed away on the spot.

when he checks if ur ok after he ran u the fuck over 😍😍😍

Then he looked to the left, in the direction Chris had tossed the ball just a minute ago, at the spot in the grass it had rolled to a stop.

The backboard of the catcher's box announced another missed swing, and Silan picked up the ball, examining it.

The object that had ruined his perfect shot. That had come careening directly towards Silan's head (or worse, the camera). That had resulted in the disastrous collision and subsequent injuries of Chris and Silan. That had wasted precious minutes of Coach Wendell's perfectly scheduled practice regimen.

He tucked it neatly away into his hoodie's front pocket and took a seat on the grass right where it had been.

STOLE THE FUCKING BASEBALL this is unhinged behavior and also exactly the kinda shit i would've pulled in high school 10/10

---

uhhhhhh that was chapter 1 and i feel i should perhaps stop here for now since this is getting like way longer than i thought it would lfksndlfmdkgj the whole thing is like. 30k ish words? i feel like i wrote about 3 or 4 chapters

i like. shoulda done this shit a few days ago so i could start writing again today (the 1st) but i was too busy drawing heehee uhhh whoopsieee >w<

its ok its fine this year i will make it to 50k easy peasy dont even worry abt it ;3 i will definitely not go back to drawing today that would be sooooooo silly and goofy of me hahaha :)

#sike i only did ch 1 in this post bc it got too long >:)#btw halloween report: we got FOUR groups of trick or treaters last night record high numbers #the neighborhood was bumpin. absolutely off the shits. wild fuckin night #i say this completely unironically btw. last few years we've had 2 at most #i was pogging #retag later #nnwm blogging

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akampana · 4 years ago

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Hey hey…for that ask game you’re doing…feel free to pick the numbers you want that you think will fit; But but, can you apply the trope enemies to lovers for diarturia? Since that’s how they technically started in zero? I’d love to see your take on a modern AU of that 💙💙💙💙💙

OOOOOh HEHEHEH (hi @jelliedfox! <3)

Diarturia Modern AU 2

Pre-relationship 1: How did they first meet?

In hindsight, all their problems could have been avoided if 1, he didn't help Fionn cram three research papers the night before and 2, his damn boyfriend wasn't chronically dehydrated.

Maybe then, they could have used the library copy machine without the latter tripping over Diarmuid's feet and showering both the machine and the tiny person currently using it with some fresh Venti Starbucks iced coffee. Correction, both their Venti Starbucks Iced Coffees.

As the old copy machine sparked and fizzed to its death, the short blonde barely even took the time to inspect her now dreadfully stained pressed blouse. She scrambled to open her laptop, which she'd been holding in her hands, praying it would turn on but the screen stayed black.

With a sharp inhale, she turned back to the dying copy machine and snatched up her flash drive, ignoring Diarmuid's frantic apologies, then showed the stick into a nearby library computer. Files were corrupted. All her work was gone.

The girl rushed out the door before he could give chase, leaving him and Fionn (who was complaining about not being able to use the printer copier anymore) to deal with the extremely pissed off library staff.

Diarmuid tried to find a name in the coffee stained copies she left in the machine, but all he got was a measly "Pendragon, A".

Later that day, with the incident fresh on his mind, he made his way to Professor Iskandar's office, where he'd just been hired as a TA. He tried not to think there was nepotism involved, since the prof was a family friend, but he was happy to have the job, since the tuition fee was pretty steep.

"I expect you'd be less clumsy then my other hire. She just lost a significant amount of research I was going to use for my work. Your first job is helping her get it back."

Iskandar calls into his office for his other assistant. Out stepped the same tiny blonde from before, dressed in a shirt far too big for her with "Admirable Tactics" emblazoned across it.

"Diar, this is Arturia Pendragon. You'll be working with her from now on."

Diarmuid wanted to evaporate on the spot.

Pre-relationship 2: What was their first impression of each other?

Oh, Arturia couldn't stand him. Their first interaction was already terrible, but it didn't help that Diarmuid's natural charm and charisma made it so much easier for him to generate responses to surveys. (Even if their data was increasingly getting skewed due to a good number of his responders being female.) Plus, Iskandar threw gas on the fire by making it a bit of a competition between the two, which incited their natural competitiveness with each other.

Diarmuid was dating Fionn at the time, so he didn't view her as anything other than his competition. He did try to make it up to her at first, but she held a grudge for quite the long time (it wasn't just data for Iskandar's stuff that got lost. It was her personal laptop, and it contained a lot of memories). Eventually, he stopped trying to apologize and settled for trying to outperform her.

Iskandar was happy to get good data from the competition, but by the gods the office was always so noisy, passive aggressive playground insults just flying left and right. He was super entertained by the chaos though. Eventually, his TAs would realize their styles complemented each other pretty well. Maybe after they finally did something about all that tension.

Pre-relationship 4 Who felt romantic feelings first?

Diarmuid. It was a long time before he realized it though. He'd been dating Fionn since high school, and had even gone to the same university to be with him even if it was more expensive and he'd have to work. Because Diar was so busy, it cut into the time he could spend with Fionn and the latter wasn't making too much effort to visit him either.

Diarmuid's work with Arturia also tended to remind Fionn of their history with a certain girl from high school that Fionn couldn't seem to let go of. He kept digging up old wounds and eventually Diarmuid's feelings for Fionn began to dwindle while his feelings for Arturia began to grow. It turned out they had a lot in common. They both liked chess and barbecue. Even when she disliked him, she shared an umbrella with him when it began to rain. She brought takeout to the office when they were working late because she 'wasn't enough of a monster to let someone else go hungry' no matter who that someone may be.

Because of his relationship, he denied he liked her for a while. But it was getting harder. Hell, even when she was criticizing his research or helping him spell check and edit, he found himself blushing at their proximity. How did he never notice she was...pretty? Was pretty even the right word?

Arturia, on the other hand, wasn't really interested in being anything other than civil co-workers with Diarmuid at first. Especially since, when they met, she'd just come out of a relationship. Her long-time girlfriend, Guin, had been cheating with her best friend Lancelot in secret.

When Diarmuid and Fionn accidentally broke her laptop, they'd also made sure she no longer had access to the pictures and vids of memories she had with her ex. It turned out to be good for her in the end, but they also technically made it harder for her to process the breakup.

She didn't realize how much she enjoyed Diarmuid's company until one night when she was working late in the public library. Diarmuid was done with his part, but he stayed, cause he wasn't stupid enough to let her walk home by herself when it was so late(plus, maybe he was a bit protective of his crush).

At some point, he fell asleep on the table. Arturia looked over as she finished her work, swept away the lone lock of hair that always fell across his face, then chuckled a little at the drool falling from his lip.

She then froze, wondering when the hell she'd gotten so fond of him.

Ask meme

Thank you for the ask! :) Hope you like it!

#university au plus enemies to lovers hype!!!#akampana asks #-ship questions #diarturia #diartoria #arturia pendragon #artoria pendragon #diarmuid ua duibhne #saber #diarmuid #fate zero #fate #fz #fgo #fate grand order #lancer

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dp-marvel94 · 4 years ago

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The Mystery Shack Spooks- Part 3

For Holiday Truce 2020

Summary: Elle Fenton had hoped for a normal summer, a chance to make normal friends with people who know nothing about her crazy family, ghosts, or, most importantly, her status as a clone. But ghosts always seem to find her, even in Gravity Falls. Now the Mystery Shack is haunted by a unknown apparition with an unknown connection to Dipper and Mabel, and to Elle herself. The half ghost struggles to open up to her new friends and to find a way to help this lonely ghost.

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3(Here) -> Part 4 -> Part 5

Also on AO3 and fanfiction.net

The half ghost sat, waiting on her bed and hoping that the Shack's mysterious ghost would reappear. Sadness swirled in her heart as the scene replayed in her head- the panic, the desperation as the misty figure begged to be seen. Why did he react that extremely, that devastated? She puzzled over Dipper’s explanation. Maybe that was correct; the ghost was upset about still being unseen and unheard. But there had to be more, didn’t there? It was almost like….he was upset that Dipper and Mabel couldn’t see him specifically.

The half ghost’s frowned. The ghost…he’d been moving Dipper and Mabel’s things. He’d latched on to her because she could see him but he’d first started with moving the twins’ things and following them…. almost like he was trying to get their attention, But why?

Wait... It's me, he’d said to Dipper. Like the boy should have recognized the ghost, like he knew him. But, how could he? If the twins closely knew someone who’d died, wouldn’t they have brought up the idea that their loved one was trying to get their attention from beyond the grave?

Unless…Elle’s eyes widened. Unless they thought it was impossible for him could come back because…. The half ghost’s breath caught in her throat as pieces slid together. He…the boy had died…maybe died… in the Mystery Shack. He was about her and Dipper and Mabel’s age. His name started with a T. But…no, that’s-

Elle’s heart stopped, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Back at the beginning when Dipper’s journal went missing, she’d…she’d asked who the figure was, and he’d shown the copier in the book. The Copier meaning….No, it couldn’t be…but….The ghost’s height, it…it matched Dipper’s exactly. And the brief coloration she’s seen- white and blue like Dipper’s hat and vest. Oh god, he even paced like Dipper did.

“Tyrone.” She whispered. “Oh my god. He’s Tyrone.”

No, the half ghost shook her head. No, that was impossible. It couldn’t be…he couldn’t be. A clone made out of paper, who’d been alive for all of a few hours. There couldn’t have been enough emotion, enough sense of self to form a ghost. But…the clone had helped to choose his own name, part of her argued. That required a degree of independence, a sense of himself as different from Dipper Pines. So maybe he was Tyrone. Maybe a magically created paper clone had managed to be reborn as a ghost. She bit her lip. Maybe…. maybe she should tell Dipper and Mabel her idea….

No, the girl bit her lip. She shouldn’t get their hopes up. If she was right, this would be an incredible miracle. But if she was wrong….Dipper’s wavered voice and downcast eyes as he talked about losing Tyrone rang in her head…if she was wrong, this would crush them. But maybe she could get proof.

Talking a deep breath, she stood. “Hey, if you’re here…” She looked up at the ceiling. “I think…I think I know who you are. You’re…you’re Tyrone, Dipper’s clone.”

Silence.

“Are you there?” She called.

Nothing. Elle sighed. Was he ignoring her? Or… he had used a lot of energy to make the lights flicker, float objects, and freeze the floor (Elle had ice powers so she knew how tiring that was). Maybe he didn’t have enough power to appear even to her.

“Okay. If…if you are Tyrone, can you give me some sigh? Or…show up so I can talk to you?”

No response. “Alright then. I’m gonna go to bed.”

Elle tossed and turned for a while, struggling to sleep without her answer but none came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The half ghost girl blinked awake to sunlight streaming through her window. She groaned sleepily and went to bury her head back in her pillow when the sound of something heavy falling to the floor rang through the room. Suddenly startled, the girl sat up.

In the middle of the room and suspiciously far from any furniture was a thick, heavy book. Beside the object, a misty blue and white figure floated for a second before flickering out of existence.

“Are you avoiding me now?” The girl rubbed her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if you wanted to see Dipper and Mabel. I probably should have and I get why you’d be upset if you’re…..” She trailed off, the lack of response deepening her frown. “Come out and talk to me, please. I…I just want to know if you are... who I think you are.”

The room remained silent, except for the flutter of paper on the desk. Stupid window must be….Elle looked to window, eyes widening. It was closed.

Heart pounding, the girl leapt to her feet. She practically ran to the desk. It was covered with the normal mix of knick knacks and school supplies but…there was a colorful piece of paper that hadn’t been there yesterday. With shaking hands, the half ghost picked the piece up. It was white cardstock covered with green pine trees, probably a Christmas themed piece from Mabel’s art and craft stock. In thick black marker, it read ‘Tyrone.’

Elle’s brain short circuited for a moment as she stared at the paper. What was…what did…how… The paper dropped through her fingers and into the desk. She whipped around, eyes hungrily searching for a blurry figure.

“Tyrone. You’re Tyrone. Dipper’s Tyrone. You’re….” She ran a hand through her hair. “I…I can’t believe this. How…how did this even happen? I mean I know how but…”

The girl blinked for a long moment as an insubstantial apparition appeared in front of her. Despite his flickering, translucent body and pale blue tint covering his figure, the ghost wore a surprisingly familiar looking appearance. As a clone, he looked almost exactly like Dipper, complete with the typical vest and hat, though Tyrone’s hat bore the number 2 instead of a picture of a pine tree.

Elle’s mouth fell open. “I can see you.”

The ghost boy frowned (frowned! As in she could actually see his mouth to see his frown!) and gave her an exacerbated look.

Elle shook her head. “No. Your face, I can actually see your face!”

Tyrone pursed his lips in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. He opened his mouth and excited sounding static exited.

That sobered the half ghost. “Your voice still sounds like a broken TV though.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. Clearly, he was displeased. A sliver of sadness tugged at her heart too but she could actually see him!

Elle marched forward. “I mean…I wish we could actually talk with words, but I can actually see your facial expressions now! I can read your body language. I could…I could learn to read your lips or we could learn sign language…or…”

Tyrone’s eyes lit up at the last suggestion, a smile stretching across his face as he nodded enthusiastically.

The half ghost grinned. “Man you’re…you’re actually him. You’re Tyrone, Dipper’s clone.” Her eyes widened, a realization filling her with awe. “You’re a clone, like I am.”

The boy nodded but there was no shock, no surprise.

Elle stumbled towards her bed, the weight of what she’d said hitting her. She’d feared even uttering the word clone in front of Dipper or Mabel but… she’d just spit it out. The girl glanced up at the other ghost. And Tyrone wasn’t even shocked.

The half ghost put a hand on her head. “You already know. You heard me after…after I found out about the copier.”

Static buzzed for his answer, but Elle knew it was a yes. To her surprise, the conformation didn’t make her feel nervous or exposed. Instead…her core hummed with some emotion she couldn’t place.

Tyrone drifted forward, shifting in the air until he was floating crossed legged at her eyes level. He focused compassionate eyes on her. You’re like me. He said and this time she understood. Not just because that was the first thing he’d said to her that she understood. Instead….she knew the meaning. They were both ghosts. They were both clones, supposed copies of someone else but they were not alone.

Elle’s core purred in her chest and she subtly smiled. This was part of the reason he’d warmed up to her and she’d become comfortable with him so quickly. There was a connection she hadn’t recognized until now. A kinship she’d felt since….

The other clones, her first brothers were still alive. Her face fell at the thought, at the memories. Playing with tag with Tiny. Watching the clouds with Bones. Petting the cat that wandered the garden with Muscles. Sitting on the floor reading to the prime clone, Daniel.

Something cold brushed against her arm, drawing her attention. She looked up, registering the mostly insubstantial hand on her arm. She met the other clone’s eyes. ‘What?’ He mouthed.

Elle shook her head. “It’s just…I haven’t talked to another clone since…since the others were still around but…they’re all gone now. It’s just me.”

Tyrone’s eyes softened in understanding. ‘Same.’ He looked down, expression full of sorrow.

The half ghost startled at the answer before nodding. “Right. You weren’t the only one either.” There had been nine or ten others and….she paled at thought….he’d seen all them melt, barely escaping that fate just to meet his demise minutes later.

Tyrone seemed to be thinking about the same thing, a queasy look on his face.

The girl sighed. “It’s okay now.” She gave her best comforting smile. “We’re both here. We both survived.”

The other ghost blanched at the thought, looking questioningly down at his translucent body. He then pinned her with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, you…that. But…” Elle shook her head. “You came back. Most people don’t.”

She looked down. Very few people came back as ghosts but…. (The other clones, maybe they could too. Maybe they were out there somewhere, waiting. If one of Dipper’s clones became a ghost… a jab of jealousy…. Why hadn’t any of her clone brothers come back to her?) No, Elle forced the dangerously intoxicating thoughts down. This wasn’t about her and her lost siblings.

The corner of her lip turned up as she forced her voice to sound lite. “Besides, being a ghost isn’t that bad. You’ve got cool powers and you…uhhh…more durable than before.” The girl smiled sheepishly, unsure if she should have said that as soon as it left her mouth.

Across from her, Tyrone shivered. Then he gave a rye smile and said something equally sheepish. Elle tilted her head in question and he tried again, carefully enunciating the words. The girl watched his mouth. Was he saying ‘can’t melt now’? He repeated the words a third time and Elle was sure.

She fought not to grimace. Well….that wasn’t actually true. Ghosts could melt as she well knew but…she wasn’t exactly going to tell him that right now. Instead, she shrugged uncertainly. “Yeah. Water can’t actually hurt you now.”

The boy let out a relieved breath for a moment before his shoulder’s fell. More static exited his mouth. The half ghost continued to patiently study him until the other ghost again realized she couldn’t understand him.

With a huff, he uncrossed his legs and floated around the room, looking for something. He paused at one of the end tables as Elle came to stand beside him. The ghost boy reached for a strip of photos on the desk and then gritted his teeth as his fingers passed through. An intense look of concentration crossed his face (it reminded Elle greatly of Dipper yesterday) and he reached again. It took several tries but he managed to pick up the pictures.

Elle tilted her head. It was a line of photo booth pictures she had taken with the twins at the arcade. Tyrone pointed at the two siblings with his free hand.

“Dipper and Mabel?” She questioned.

The boy nodded. In that moment, his concertation lapsed and the pictures fell through his hand. He groaned in displeasure.

Elle bent down to take the paper, studying it. Then she looked at the other ghost again. “What about Dipper and Mabel?”

Tyrone frowned. Deliberately, he pointed at each twin. Then he shook his head, covering his ears and then his eyes.

“Oh.” Elle also frowned. “They still can’t see or hear you.”

The ghost nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes. The half ghost felt a similar sadness. Though she now knew that the ghost haunting the shack was Tyrone and could see him, he was still invisible to everyone else. He can’t show himself or talk to Dipper and Mabel. It was almost he wasn’t even here. Except that he was.

Tyrone had come back as a ghost and Elle didn’t know the true extent of his relationship to the twins. She didn’t know what he actually thought of Dipper especially. And she didn’t know what the twins actually thought about him, how they would react if he showed up again. But…

She remembered Dipper’s sadness talking about Tyrone melting, Mabel’s uncharacteristic soberness during that conversation. She remembered last night- Tyrone begging and crying in front of them. Please, it’s me. I’m right in front of you. He wanted to connect with them, didn’t he? But he couldn’t do that alone.

“We’ll figure something out.” Elle ran a hand through her hair. “But for now, what am I gonna tell Dipper and Mabel?”

Tyrone’s eyes widened, a panicked look crossing his face. He vigorously shook his head.

The girl stared at him. “Tyrone. I figured out who you are. I can actually see you. I have to tell them something.”

The ghost boy continued to shake his head exaggeratedly.

Elle raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to tell them?”

His voice buzzed as panicked static and she didn’t need to understand the words to know he was saying no.

The girl held out her hands. “Why not? I saw how upset you got last night. You want to talk to them. And…I think they’d want to talk to you too.” She said that last part with less certainty but it was true, right?

At some point, the ghostly clone had started pacing. He stopped to stare at her. He waved his arms, motioning to his mouth.

Elle scowled before catching. “You can’t talk to them…and they can’t see you.” Her lips turned down.

Tyrone nodded, more static popping. Some words broke through the noise. “Can’t see…how can…like not here….and….can’t break their hearts….”

“You don’t want to hurt them.” The half ghost said softly.

The boy confirmed with a nod.

Elle frowned. “But..” She started to argue.

Tyrone floated forward, holding up his hands. He closed his eyes, concentrating before he opened his mouth. “Please, wait until we figure this out.” He motioned to his still insubstantial form.

“They could help us with that, if they knew.” She argued.

He still shook his head, before biting his lip. “No, I’m…not ready…..” There was a long pause when the half ghost thought he wouldn’t say anything else. “I’m…Just a copy. Aren’t I? But….I don’t know…what will they think of me?” The last words rang with doubt and fear but somehow they were more real and solid than anything she’d heard from him.

Elle frowned, trying to make sense of the words. Except they made too much sense. She knew all the self-worth issues that came with being a clone, all the fear of people knowing what a freak you are, not being ready to face the truth. Or…maybe she was projecting what she felt on to him. Maybe he wasn’t feeling insecure because of his clone status. Maybe he was just afraid of hurting Dipper and Mabel and being physically unable to comfort them.

After long consideration, the half ghost sighed. “Alright. I won’t tell them. But we’ll find a way for them to see and hear you. And then you’ll have to face them.”

Tyrone swallowed nervously but nodded in agreement. Then he offered her a half-smile and a mouthed ‘Thank you,’ before he disappeared, leaving Elle to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe agreeing not to tell Dipper or Mabel about Tyrone was a bad idea, Elle thought ruefully. The fair had come early this year and she was supposed to be having fun with the twins. Mabel was talking about their time travel adventure last year, gushing about how she won Waddles and chuckling about how Dipper kept hitting Wendy in the eyes with a baseball, to the boy’s groaning.

“Yeah, we never figured out what that time anomaly thing was.” The female twin shrugged.

“Mabel, that was us.” Dipper stated flatly.

“That’s just silly bro. Us, cause a time anomaly. Psh.” She waved her hand flippantly. Dipper rolled his eyes, exacerbated. Elle wasn’t sure if Mabel was being serious or not but before she could say anything, the other girl’s eyes widened. “Candy! Grenda!”

As Mabel ran off to meet her friends, Elle sighed, and Dipper’s smile fell. A moment later, he looked at the other teen and sighed. “So…what do you want to do?”

Elle shrugged, frowning. “I don’t know. Whatever.”

If she was honest, she wasn’t in the mood for fun, not after this morning. She was feeling blue and Dipper didn’t seem to be doing much better. Elle had noticed it as soon as she saw him at breakfast this morning. The tension in his shoulders, the bags under his sunken eyes, the way he kept wringing his hands. He looked like he had barely slept, deeply bothered by something.

“How about we go get some food?” The boy offered halfheartedly.

“Sure.” Elle agreed, her thoughts away from her friend’s sour mood.

The pair walked to one of the food trucks, ordering cheeseburgers, fries, and cans of Pit Cola. They sit down to eat at a picnic table, beside some of the older teens.

Elle listlessly picked at her food, while passively watching people pass by their table. Across from her, Dipper was in a similar mood, his eyes fixed down while he nibbled at his fries. He remained silent which was fine with Elle; she wasn’t in a talking mood today either.

If she’s been in a better mood, she might have wondered about what was bothering him and asked about it. But instead, her head remained filled with her own troubled thoughts. She couldn’t stop thinking about Tyrone who was in the Shack somewhere, still invisible. Elle sighed. She knew his name now but what did that matter? She still had no idea how to actually help him.

A blue tinted figure drew Elle’s attention away. She looked up, her frown deepening. There in the attic window was Tyrone. He was watching them with one hand on the window; even from this distance she could make out the sad look in his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” The living boy across from her asked, startling her.

Elle whipped to look at him. A moment later, she recognized the question. “Oh…our ghostly friend.” It wasn’t a lie, technically, right? “He’s in the window of your bedroom.” She looked back up and pointed, causing the boy to swivel around to see and then frowned. “Or he was.” Tyrone had disappeared in second she looked away.

“Oh.” Dipper frowned. “What was he doing?”

“Just looking out the window. Watching the fair I guess.” She shrugged, trying to sound unbothered. But she was bothered. He was watching them, with the expression of someone on the outside looking in.

Despite her efforts, the boy mostly likely picked up on the unease anyway. “He must be really lonely.”

“Yeah.” The girl nodded, putting her arms around herself. Jazz had said as much earlier and Elle herself thought that was well. She shivered. “No one being able to see and hear you must be horrible.”

Dipper swallowed. “It is. It’s awful.”

The sureness of the statement giving her pause, Elle blinked at him in surprise. “You sound...very sure about that.”

The boy’s shoulders rose, and he paled, looking like he’d been caught. Then a deep look of consideration covered his face. He looked around cautiously. “There’s a reason for that.” He lowered his voice. “We shouldn’t talk about it here.”

With that, the boy stood. He grabbed his food and Elle followed with her own food as he led her away from the picnic tables. With another cautious glance, he darted behind one of the game stales. With a food truck to their backs and the back of the stall in front of them, it formed a secluded little alley away from listening ears.

Dipper took a seat, slumping into the grass. He bit his lip, mulling over something silently before meeting her eyes. “I..I kinda know what it’s like to be a ghost.”

Elle frowned in surprise. “What?”

The boy opened and closed his mouth, searching for words. He nervously rubbed one of his arms. “I…When Bill Cipher possessed me, I got kicked out of my own body. While that demon,” His voice pitched up in anger at the word, before dipping down in sadness. “was tramping around in my body. I was just floating there. I couldn't touch anything. And no one could see or hear me. I yelled in people’s ears, waved in their faces but…nothing.” He looked at his hands. “It’s like…I didn’t even exist. I wasn’t even there, like I was a….”

“A ghost.” The girl’s eyes lit up in understanding. “It’s like you were a ghost.”

Dipper nodded. “It was horrible. I felt so…helpless. Cipher was running around, doing whatever he wanted to do to me and I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t get anyone to help me, because they couldn’t see me. It was…one of the most horrible things that's ever happened to me.” He almost whispered that last part before shaking his head. “It turned out okay though. I possessed one of Mabel’s sock puppets to talk to her and she helped get the demon out of me.” Elle’s eyes widened at the last part, wanting to ask more about that story but Dipper continued before she could. “But the point is…I was stuck like that for a few hours and it was awful. But the ghost in the Shack…he’s been like that for who knows how long.”

Elle shook her head, considering the words. “I can’t even imagine that. Well…Well no, I can...”

The boy gave her a curious look and the girl pinched her mouth shut. She didn’t want to bring that up, not right now, not when it could lead to…other revelations but….she met Dipper’s eyes. He’d already spilled deep secrets to her. He trusted her, repeatedly, and she still remained closed off.

Elle hazarded a cautious glance at Dipper. "I...uhh….I have something to tell you about..." She rubbed the back of her neck. "About why I can see the ghost but no one else can. It's uhhh.. it's not because I've been living above a ghost portal."

The boy seemed to pick up on her somber tone, his frowning deepening. "What do you mean? Is there no portal?"

The halfa wrung her hands. "No, I mean…Mom and Dad do have a portal and it is in our basement. So I have been living above it but… I know what's not why I can see the ghost."

"Then why?"

Elle could hardly believe she was saying this, she was trying to confess this as she stammered. "I...uhh...I..umm… it's...it's complicated and weird. And...I'm … I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but I thought...well.. it's silly but…" Her voice quieted. "Please don't be mad."

Dipper's expression softened. "Elle, it's okay. You can tell me whatever it is."

The girl took a breath and closed her eyes. She braced herself. She would say it. She was gonna actually say it and it would be fine because she could trust Dipper and he'd believe her and...She spit out the words. "I'm half ghost."

There was a long moment of silence when the other teen didn't react. Tentatively, she peaked her eyes open and took in his bewildered expression.

"What?" He finally said.

"I'm half ghost." Elle forced the words out again. "That's why I can see the Shack's ghost, 'cause I'm one too." She glanced up, meeting Dipper's still confused gaze, before looking down again. She then continued as the other boy remained silent. “So yeah...I’ve got all the typical powers. I can turn invisible.” In demonstration, her hand disappeared. “Intangible.” Her hand took on a bluish tint before she passed it into the ground. “Make ectoblasts.” Pulling her hand back up, she summoned neon green energy into her palm. “I can do ice too and float but those are….uhh...harder in this form….”

She trailed off at the end, blushing under Dipper’s slack jawed stare. The girl bit her lip. Had she gone too fast? Should she have explained better? Should she transform? No that was a stupid idea. This was stupid idea. Stupid! She just broke her friend. He probably thought-

“You’re a ghost.” Dipper’s uncharacteristically quiet voice cut through her growing panic. “You’re a ghost. I can’t believe this.” His voice was quickly growing in volume as he spoke faster. “In the Shack, right under our noses the whole time. You told me...you told me your parents are ghost experts. And...you’ve gone through the ghost portal.... Earlier, I thought I saw your eyes glow like that.” His eyes flickered between her face and her still lit hand as he pointed. “You’ve really a ghost which means you’re…” His speech slowed as his eyes widened, shining with sadness. “You’re dead.” He practically leapt to his feet, waving his arms. “You’re dead. You’ve been dead this entire time. You’re-”

“Dipper! Stop!” Elle cut the boy off as she rose to her feet and extinguished her ectoenergy. She grabbed one of his arms. “I’m not dead.”

The boy suddenly stopped, jaw falling again. "But.. you just said you were a ghost."

"I'm half ghost." She corrected pointedly.

"Half ghost?" Dipper questioned.

Elle blew out a breath at her friend's lingering confusion. “Yeah, Half ghost and half human. I’m a...human-ghost hybrid.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I am a ghost but I’m a human too. And…. I’m not dead…”

The boy continued to study her, his expression equal parts confused and distressed. “But...how can you be both? Ghosts are the spirits of dead people and you’re…” He looked down at her hand that was still around his wrists. “You’re solid and warm and..you’re breathing but…” He pulled away. “Are you possessed? Is this you trying to tell me you’re possessed because if you are-”

Elle cut him off again. “Dipper, I’m not possessed. These are my powers.” Again, she demonstrated, deliberately turning a hand invisible. “See. I’m doing this. There isn’t a ghost controlling me. It’s just...this is just me.” The boy said nothing, staring at her hand. Elle bit her lip. “Maybe….I should transform. That might help you understand.”

Dipper’s eyes flickered back up to her face. “Transform?”

“Yeah uhh...into my ghost form. Since I have a human form.” She motioned down her body. “And a ghost form.”

The boy nodded, seeming to follow what she was saying even if the blank look suggested he still had no idea what she meant.

Elle took a step back. “Okay. So...there’s this light that's gonna form around me and I’ll change. You...uhh...might not want to look directly at me. It’s bright.”

With another nod from the other teen, the half ghost summoned the ring of light. Dipper’s eyes widened at the sight and remained fixed even as the light moved across Elle’s form. The light passed Elle’s head, stealing the breath from her lungs. A moment later, the familiar chill and weightlessness enveloped her, leaving the girl floating in ghost form a few inches above the ground.

As Dipper hadn’t looked away, he squinted at her, blinking the spots from his vision. After what felt like minutes but was really seconds, he focused on her face again. “Elle?” He took a tentative step forward. “Is that really you?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. I know I kinda look different but… it’s still me.”

The boy took another cautious step forward, the shocked look on his face morphing into awe. “Wow. You do look so different.” Elle frowned, shifting nervously in the air. Dipper shook his head, noticing her reaction. “No, I mean...you look so different from the other ghost I’ve seen. You’re not see-through at all. You look solid…” He reached a hand forward. “Can I...uh… touch you?”

The girl blushed. “Uh...sure?” She put an arm forward and let Dipper take it.

His eyes lit up. “You are solid but...you’re so cold.” His lips turned down. “And you’re not...you’re not dead?”

Elle shook her head. “No. I even still have a heartbeat in this form. Here if you press down on my pulse point, you should feel it.”

With a hum, the boy did so. Slowly, he smiled, his voice ringing with relief. “You do.”

“Yeah.” Elle gently removed her arm from his grasp. “So not dead. Or half dead. Or anything like that.”

Dipper blinked. “But then how...how are you like this?”

The girl paled. “Well that’s...that’s complicated.” She bit her lip, again shifting nervously.

The other teen stepped back. “Oh...sorry. Sorry if that’s personal. You don’t have to tell me.” Clearly he’d picked up on her discomfort but despite the words, Elle could still see the pure curious interest in his eyes.

The half ghost sighed. “No...I wanna tell you but...it’s hard to talk about and…”

Dipper’s expression softened. “It’s okay.”

Elle shook her head. “I’ll just say...I was in a bad place with a bad person. That bastard. I was…I was an experiment to him. He hurt me and…” She swallowed. “And other people too.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, thinking about the other clones. “He tried to get me to help him. I...I should’ve died. I should be dead.” Dipper’s eyes widened in alarm at the statement but she continued. “I almost died but...Danny saved me.” A small smile spread across her face at the statement.

“Danny?” The boy raised a brow. “You mean your brother?”

The half ghost blinked, realizing what she said. “Yeah...I guess I should mention….Danny’s half ghost like me.”

“Your brother’s...half ghost?” He put a hand on his head. “But how..wait, is this genetic or something?”

“Or something.” Elle shrugged, trying to avoid the topic. “Anyway, Danny’s half ghost too and he saved my life. He got me out of that place or...guess we helped each other escape really. But still...I would have probably died that day without him.” Her face fell at the last part, remembering Vlad’s hate filled face, how the man would have driven her to the point of destabilization if Danny hadn’t refused to fight her. She swallowed. “And...I got really sick after that.” She shivered, the memory of her body numb and dripping green fashed in her mind. Those dark, cold nights when her body was threatening to fall apart and she’d feared that she’d died there on the streets. But- “Danny found a way to make me better. He...he saved me. He saved my life, again. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” In more ways than one, she thought almost ruefully. But she smiled fondly anyway.

Dipper frowned for a long moment, taking in all she said. “Wow, that’s...that’s a lot. That sounds really awful.”

“Yeah. It sucked.” Elle rubbed the back of her neck. “But everything’s okay now.” Which was true for the most part. “I’m healthy. That fruitloop is out of my life. I’ve got an incredible family and…” She smiled very deliberately at Dipper. “I finally have friends.”

The boy blushed at the attention, though he also smiled. “Yeah, friends. And...I’m happy things are better for you know.”

Elle sighed, feeling happiness at his agreement along with a sense of relief. She’d shared the barest hint of all she’d gone through but it felt good to say at least a portion of it. Although...she looked back at Dipper who was looking at her thoughtfully.Her stomach flopped as she wondered what he was thinking.

“You’re taking this well.” She said, slightly skeptically. “But...I guess you’re kinda used to the paranormal.”

Dipper raised a brow. “I don’t think there’s any getting used to your friend secretly being a supernatural creature.”

“Part supernatural creature.” She snorted. “So….do you have any more questions?”

“Do I? Well…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper of course had dozens of questions for the newly revealed halfa. After posing several questions about her powers and requests to demonstrate, Elle turned human and asked to go somewhere more secluded. The pair made their way away from the field hosting the fair and into the woods, far enough to not be seen by any of the townsfolk but close enough to easily find their way back to the Shack.

Elle demonstrated her powers and the two talked more about the Ghost Zone and ghosts. Dipper even learned about Elle’s superhero alter-ego and Phantom’s real identity . Again, it was nice sharing the truth with someone. The boy wasn’t angry that she’d waited or distrustful of her. Instead, his enthusiasm and wonder was infectious, lifting her spirits. He clearly thought what she was, what she could do was wondrous and incredible, not weird and inhuman. In an odd way, it reminded her of her dad and the child-like wonder he exhibited when talking about ghosts. The man had worn similar expressions when watching either of his two half ghost children display their powers. The reaction made her literally glow with happiness. Until…

“Hey, Elle.” Dipper put down the journal he’d been jotting down notes in. “Thanks for showing me all this. I could tell how nervous you were earlier about telling me so...thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

And just like that, an underlying tension surged. She’d shared a secret but not her biggest one, not about her origin as a clone. Her stomach flopped. She could tell him about that now, right?. He accepted her being a halfa; learning that she was a clone too wouldn’t change that. But…doubt stabbed in her heart. It would change the way he saw her. He’d know that she was not a real person but a fake, a copy, a hateful voice whispered.

No, Elle shook her head. She wasn’t those things. She’s been over this again and again, reassured by her family. She was a real person, her own person.

“Come on.” Dipper interrupted her thoughts. “Let’s head back to the fair.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Elle shrugged, returning to human form.

The boy led her back to the field, stopping as they cleared the trees. “Do you want to play some games?” He pointed. “I’m pretty good at balloon darts.”

“Let’s do it.” The girl agreed.

With that, the pair of friends walked to the stall and played the game. All the while, Elle’s thoughts tumbled her head. She really should tell him about how she really got her powers and....She watched Mabel walk by with her friends...She needed to tell the other girl as well. Elle frowned. Well, one thing at a time then. She’d talk to Mabel about being half ghost and then...figure out what to do next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour later, Mabel joined back up with Elle and Dipper. “Candy and Grenda had to leave so I’m back!” She grinned. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did you two have fun?”

Elle raised a brow at that tone; what exactly was she implying?

Dipper either didn’t pick up in the expression or chose to ignore it. Instead he excitedly said. “Yeah! Mabel you won’t believe what Elle-”

The half ghost elbowed the boy in the side, cutting him off. “Dipper.”

“What?” He shrugged, slightly confused and slightly incredulous. Elle gave him a pointed look and a moment later, understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, right. I guess you should tell her yourself.“

“Tell me what?” Mabel questioned.

Elle bit her lip. “More like show you. Let’s...let’s go somewhere private.”

Without further questions, the group went back to the area in the woods where Elle and Dipper talked earlier. Once they arrived, the half ghost turned around to face her two friends.

“So...I’m half ghost.” She started, already cursing herself for not deciding to tell both twins at the same time. Really, why did she keep doing this? It wasn’t that she didn’t like or trust Mabel so why...

She pushed the idea out of her head to focus on explaining and showing off her powers. Much as she had with Dipper, she gave a very vague explanation of why she was half ghost and the awful things that happened before she was stabilized.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Mabel said, after she finished.

With a huff, the girl touched down on the ground. “Yeah..it was really bad but...I came out okay.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “And like I said, Danny helped me.”

The other girl’s expression softened. “He sounds like a good brother.”

Elle nodded. “He really is.” That was true, no matter the complicated feelings she had about being his clone.

“Are you two close?” The halfa rose a brow Mabel’s question and the other girl continued. “The two of you have the same powers and all the stuff you went through together? I know with all the crazy stuff that happened last summer, all the times I had to save Dipper’s butt.”

“Hey!” Said boy gave a somewhat indignant cry. “You saved my butt? I saved your butt!”

Mabel glared at him without heat. “We saved each other’s butts. But anyway...we got closer, after everything that happened.”

Dipper lowered his pointed finger. “You’re right.” His expression turned fond. “We did.”

Elle glanced between the brother and sister, fondness entering her heart at the thought of her own living siblings. “You’re right. Danny and me are close. Well...I’m closer to him than Jazz anyway. Some of that is being half ghost.” Though some was, she had known him longer than she had known Jazz. “He got his powers first so he’s taught me things. And all the stuff that happened with the fruitloop…” She bit her lip. “I know he’ll always have my back.” Elle shook her head; she could say more, a lot more. Her relationship with the older teen was complicated. “I mean...he sometimes drives me nuts and...” This was saying a lot from a clone. “I wonder how the heck we’re even related.”

That earned a laugh from Mabel. “Same. I mean, brothers?” She jabbed a thumb at Dipper. “What are you gonna do with them?”

The mentioned boy rolled his eyes. “I love you too.”

His sister stuck out her tongue and Elle giggled.

The halfa then shrugged. “But yeah….I guess the point is...it’s not always perfect. But Danny’s my big bro. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

There was a pause as Elle let the statement settle and the silence stretched. From the fond looks the pair of twins traded, the half ghost was sure each thought the same of their respective sibling even if neither was going to say it out loud. Granted, Elle wasn’t sure how much of that said she would say to Danny out loud but...maybe she should. Maybe after this, she’d call Jazz and Danny and thank them for encouraging her to trust Dipper and Mabel. She’d tell the two how much she loved them.

Speaking of trusting….she did have more to tell them but…

“Elle! Can you show us your ice again?” Dipper grinned excitedly.

Mabel beamed similarity. “Can you make snowballs?! Oh, can we have a snowball fight?”

The halfa laughed, forming a snowball in her hands. “I don’t know…” She threw it at Mabel and smiled. “Can we?”

A shocked expression crossed the girl’s face before she shrieked with laughter. “No fair. Me and Dipper need snowballs too!”

With that, the half ghost made a pile of snowballs. As the three had a snowball fight in the middle of the summer, Elle was again happy that she told her friends about her powers and she could share this with them. There was still that little secret about being a clone which kept rearing its head. But for now…. Elle laughed as a snowball hit her in the back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the impromptu snowball fight, the group went back to the fair. Elle looked side to side; there were noticeably less people around and many of the game and food stalls were closed.

Mabel frowned. “I guess we ended up talking for a long time.”

“Sorry you didn’t get to see much of the fair.” Dipper said.

“That’s okay. I still had fun with you guys.” Elle shrugged.

The twins both smiled at the statement. Mabel then waved. “Come on. Let’s ride the Ferris wheel before they close.”

The three got in line for the ride and soon after loaded onto one of the cars. The group happily chatted. As they rose higher, Dipper and Mabel oohed and awed at the sight. Elle looked around with considerably less awe. The sight was beautiful but she could see it all time she liked; she could fly of her own power after all. But still she smiled, enjoying her friends’ reactions.

That is...until she looked through one of the windows of the Shack and again, saw the misty form of Tyrone. Her smile fell; there he was in the window again, watching, waiting and probably hoping she’d come up with a way to make him fully visible and audible. Guilt wrapped around Elle’s heart; she’d forgotten about him all day, too busy hanging out with Dipper and Mabel and thinking about herself. She’d been worried about telling them about her status as a clone but there was another clone to worry about. She still needed to figure out how to tell them about Tyrone. But how to have that conversation, that definitely painful conversation that Tyrone didn’t want to have yet?

“Look! It’s the water tower!” Mabel grabbed her arm and pointed, drawing Elle out of the train of thought.

The halfa tilted her head. “Is that a muffin painted on the side?”

Dipper waved exaggeratedly. “That’s what I said!” The boy crossed his arms. “Robbie says it’s an explosion, though.”

“An explosion?” Elle raised a brow. “Huh? I can kinda see it.”

The boy’s mouth fell open and his nose wrinkled. “Traitor.” He muttered.

At that, Mabel laughed. “I think Elle’s right. It does look like an explosion.”

The two girls continued to laugh at the other teen’s offended expression. More quips were traded as the Ferris Wheel spun around. After several minutes, the ride ended. The trio walked around the fair for a while as the sun set before going back to the Shack after the fair closed.

As soon as Elle walked into the living room, her ghost sense stirred in his chest before exiting her mouth. She crossed her eyes, looking at the blue mist.

“What was that?” Dipper asked, apparently having noticed.

“Ghost sense. I guess...our friend’s around.” She frowned. “I don’t see him though. I’ll just…” She looked side to side. Seeing no one around, she summoned the rings. “I’ll look for him.”

Elle half-smiled, enjoying the twin’s awed looks at her transformation. But she was still worried about the ghost she’d sensed. After that conversation this morning, he’d been alone all day and based on glimpses, Tyrone had been watching the going-ons at the fair. She sighed as she phased through the ceiling, wondering what she’d say when she found the ghostly clone. And what would she tell Dipper and Mabel?

In quick succession, she invisibly flew through the house, searching. Where was he? Her core pulsed with the familiar cold of sensing another ghost. But there was no mist, no semi transparent figure. Where was Tyrone?

Five minutes later, Elle returned to her friends.

“Did you find him?” Dipper asked hopefully.

The half ghost shook her head. “No..I sensed him a few more times but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Oh.” Dipper seemed to sober at that. “Do you think he’s still upset about last night?”

“Maybe…” Elle’s stomach flopped at the idea. Maybe he was still upset. It wasn’t like him, just disappearing. Again she worried. Was he moping? Avoiding her? Avoiding the twins? “Maybe he...he doesn’t want to see any of us.”

That was kinda hard to believe but...with how upset he got seeing the twins, how he didn’t want to tell them about his true identity...maybe he didn’t want to see them. And her….what exactly were they gonna talk about after that bombshell?”

Mabel frowned. “What do we do now?”

Elle swallowed. "I guess...he’ll show up again eventually.”

“And we keep researching.” Dipper said, eyes downcast. “I wish we could do something.”

Guilt churned in her gut as part of her whispered, she could do something. She could tell Dipper and Mabel that the ghost was Tyrone but… the ghostly clone’s uncertain and distraught face flashed in her mind. Would it be more painful for him if the two knew but he remained unseen and unheard? Won’t he be angry if she told them without his permission?

Heart aching, Elle remained silent.

#Danny Phantom #gravity falls #holiday truce #holiday truce 2020 #dp holiday truce #dani phantom #elle phantom #Elle Fenton #dipper pines #mabel pines #clone angst #My fic

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herpronuonsarefemslash · 4 years ago

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Do Not Tap the Glass - TEASER

Enjoy an ABO Supergirl / Jurassic Park (barely) crossover where Alex is a scientist for the Luthor Institute studying a mysterious "creature" that was found in the arctic ice, her wife Maggie definitely thinks pregnant Alex is sexy Alex, they go to a sex club together, and Lex throws Lena in with the beast...that maybe isn't a beast at all. Chapters 1-5 are public and Chapter 6 is Patreon exclusive.

Chapter 1 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qpiYG0XLyuUU79_P2YTwG6IYR6GISse3/view?usp=sharing Chapter 2 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1EJlb75hUbGXdNAkkwPzW691XFS9AXx-d/view?usp=sharing Chapter 3 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1jE-f6E4McfFWKUXCX-ZhJWAg0XvHn1el/view?usp=sharing Chapter 4 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1HEcDBzNaB6qmZ2JkzInx46INWOyawfdC/view?usp=sharing Chapter 5 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SQaoF7H2aG1kVyhA35zFfQ5ZfK86lU3Z/view?usp=sharing Chapter 6 - https://www.patreon.com/posts/54672610 Alex has a ritual when she starts a new job: ride the bike in for confidence. Sadly, the list of 'required tools' she was asked to bring would never have fit in a bike. It would never have fit in Maggie's beloved 'princess plug' either, that silver Subaru with a bedazzled back hatch and two surfboards eternally attached to the rack.

Hence, renting a small U-Haul that drives like a dead whale. Maybe the Luthor Institute isn't really hiring her for her mind, maybe they just want her and her mom's research and devices. Lex Luthor has a scary rep in the academic community. He's probably just going to have someone shoot her as soon as she's buzzed in the gate.

Still. It's an interesting job because the not-interesting jobs don't come with 200-page non-disclosure agreements she signed, being watched by lawyers so clenched a punch-press and a vat of KY couldn't help them. It's a lot of money. It's enough money to put aside a million for their daughter by the time she graduates college. Once she finishes developing a spine, organs, and nervous system, that is. Alex was too busy puking to nickname the fetus, so Maggie stepped in.

Regrettably. Cervix-Kicker is just not something Alex can tease her slowly-swelling belly with, at least in public. Maggie's turn, next time. She's pretty sure there will be a next time. Alex suspects that pregnancy sex makes the case for the pregnancy itself, in Maggie's view.

Her phone lights up and a bonobo's shrieking voice comes out. Eliza recorded it during the early days of her fieldwork. Alex taps answer.

"Hey, Mom."

"Morning, sweetie. How's the new job?"

=====

Nia rolls her eyes with such exaggeration it makes her fairy-dusted eyeshadow sparkle a bit in the sun.

"Come on, new girl," Nia teases. "I'll show you around."

"She will. She's basically in charge of the pep squad here," Frank teases. "When I started, I gained five pounds from all of the bonding lunches Nia organized."

"Did you complain?" Nia demands.

"I did not. And I do not regret a moment of it, kid. Someone will come unload the truck, doc. Thanks for bringing all your gear."

Frank tips his ball cap at Alex and goes back to the main group by the door.

"My mom's designs too." Alex mumbles. One accidental touch and she's blubbering out self-deprecation to near-strangers.

"Right," Nia chuckles. "The infamous Doctors Danvers. So is your kid going to be a world-renowned psych researcher does the third generation end up a bunch of losers who like, found the next Google?"

"Um, not sure. I have to meet them first."

"Shut the front door!" Nia exclaims. Her smile just went up about fifty thousand watts. "I was just joking but you're actually preggers."

"How ca-"

Alex glances at Nia's nametag. In the lower right is an omega symbol with an F beside it. Curiously, it even has the sub-status there even though that's unnecessary in the case of female omegas given the extremely low variation rate. Alex has never heard of subtypes being used outside of therapy or a doctor's office. Using them at work is legal--probably--but it's also downright bizarre. As an omega, Nia can not only smell the tiny changes in Alex's scent indicating she's pregnant, she can probably tell Alex what soap Maggie uses, along with her age, ethnicity, and most recent rut.

"They categorize us by status?" Alex asks. "How 1890s."

Nia sighs.

"Well, it's actually not so bad. There was a dude in maintenance who I thought was taking notes on my heat cycle. I mentioned something and the next thing I know there was this absolute unit of a woman from HR sort of shadowing me. Eating lunch, printing stuff to the copier we use, so on. Being obvious about it to, making sure he knew she had her eye on him. So they do use the information for the right reasons."

Any competent HR department could handle all that. Nia must realize that too.

"The creature. The creature can sense human genera and reacts to them."

Nia makes finger guns.

"Bingo. Got a nose like a bloodhound, that one. Even with the enclosure being vacuum-sealed and using completely different air, the creature catches it somehow."

=====

She nods towards the ruined hard drive, which has been ground and punctured and shaved to produce the bearings.

"I'm afraid I never made a backup."

"Fuck," Lex snarls.

She got Lex to curse in front of his men. Victory enough for one lifetime.

"Take her."

She lets the goons cuff her.

"Oh, and I injected myself with an agent that reacts violently with truth serum drugs. Violently and fatally."

"Which ones?" Lex demands.

"All of them. And I put an implant in my teeth with 2 grams of high explosive. So electrocuting me is out. We'll have to make a deal the old-fashioned way, brother."

Lex's pained bellowing is so sweet. ===== Lena's gurney is tilted back vertical and she's wheeled down a long hallway. A pair of armored doors buzz open.

It's a goddamned zoo enclosure. Gorilla enclosure, from the look of it. It reeks of alpha. Almost human. Almost sweet, even. A scent she wouldn't mind nuzzling into at night if she didn't know it was a beast's. Lex himself unclips her and tilts the gurney forwards, spilling her onto wood chips.

"Quite the specimen, I hear. She's used up three omegas so far," he sighs. "Maybe you'll fare better. Maybe you'll live long enough to get a pup in you. When you are ready to talk, press the red button."

Classic good old boy alpha thinking. Like many a single omega, Lena has guiltily indulged in rut non-con fantasies. So that's not quite the threat he thinks it is. Loss of control over the body and second-guessing whether it was consent or just surrender to the heat is Female Omega 101. She could maybe power through that. Close her eyes. Remember boarding school. Andrea and her flashing blue eyes and her exquisitely shaped cock -- ladylike, somehow -- long enough to slam the breath from Lena's lungs and her long hands closed over Lena's neck. Her affected machismo. Taking Lena like she was a mafia boss and Lena was some worthless whore from the back streets. Fulfilling that and any other roleplay Lena wanted.

This is a goddamned gorilla though. That's beyond the realm of kink.

She's in a puddle of light but the rest of the enclosure is dark. Too dark to see anything past her ankles.

That's when she hears it. Huffing. Panting. Too loud and to big a noise to be human lungs. Squelching. Grunting. Moaning.

A face spills out of the dark into the light. Matted blonde curls. Blue eyes glazed over with orgasm, drugs, or maybe in shock. The grunting increases in pace.

"So good, so good..." the blonde mumbles, throwing her head back and forth.

"Hi, Lena."

"Eve Tessmacher? Fuck. I thought you got fired."

=====

"Hey, Nia?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you go to my desk..." Alex begins before shame clamps her jaw shut. She's going to have to say it. Say it to a friend who is her employee and she wonders if the fancy toilet can be reprogrammed to drown her.

"Go to your desk and?" Nia prompts.

"Target bag. Sweatshirt and pants," she huffs.

"Copy that."

Alex catches her breath, then spanks the toilet paper roll over and over. She starts cleaning up. Nia's a good kid. In both the psychological and physical sense had painful days herself--phantom ruts colliding with her desired heat cycle--and she and Alex worked out a system. With it, Alex could sneak her pot chocolate from the cooler in Nia's car, sign it in on her behalf at security, hit the vending machine, and meet her in the breakroom like it's nothing.

Their friendship started out the way a thousand five-minute friendships do in bars. Nia asked for an opinion and Alex assured her she looked cute and that her blind date would love it. The guy turned out to be a moron but the resulting debrief cemented their dynamic.

She's not sure how someone can go from acquaintance to best friend, to kid sister in less than a month. She only knows Nia did.

=====

The member lot is small and the gold member lot is smaller still. Perhaps thirty stalls and mostly full.

Maybe when you spend this much on VIP access to a sex club, it makes sense to spend every weeknight there. Eliza didn't volunteer a number for the membership she bought Alex and Maggie but both she and Alex assumed that down payment on a house would be Eliza and Jeremiah's contribution. She probably went with this out of fond memories of her own years studying at UC National City. If she and Jeremiah ever shared an omega playmate, it would've been somewhere like here. Somewhere deniable.

"Look, babe," Julia whispers, pointing at the engravings in the concrete of the marked stall that Maggie is gradually working their Prius into, sliding it between a Range Rover and a Suburban.

"AD and MS, sponsored by EG?" Alex mumbles.

"Founder sponsored," Julia adds, pointing out something in smaller print and filling the right half of Maggie's vision with creamy cleavage and her lungs with candy-sweet scent of a willing omega.

"I fucking knew it," Maggie chuckles. "Your mom was one of the people that started this place."

"No!" Alex squawks. "Absolutely fucking no!"

"You park," Julia chuckles. "I'll distract her from herself."

#abo #sanvers #my fics #supergirl

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m-a-mostafa · 6 years ago

Video

youtube

How To Build TV Memory IC Copier Circuit ( 24C02 , 24C04 , 24C08 , 24C16 )

#Memory IC Copier #AT89S51 Memory IC Copier

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some1s-sista · 6 years ago

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5fF

8:15 pm on Friday night and I’ve got a cranberry, triple sec and vodka, watching last night’s Top Chef and sitting in bed with the heating pad on my back. A whoo hoo! Middle age partying at its best!

I need a new desk chair. Everything in our office - desk chairs, desks, conference table, copiers, you name it - was donated shit no one else wanted anymore. I had one of the best chairs til I was out one day and arch nemesis decided to sit at my desk and adjust my chair. Who does that? Right? AND HE BROKE IT! So I switched to another chair and it sucks and my back is breaking by the time I get home every day. So I think I’m going to buy myself a new desk chair. And so help them if anyone even breaths on it!

January, and this week especially, has kicked my ass. It’s a busy month for me anyway, but then add 2 custom programs, a memorial benefit and the annual audit (which should be done in Aug!) and it’s just been insane. I’ve never been more thankful for a 3 day weekend ever! One of the custom programs is this weekend but I’m not going anywhere near it!

My baby girl, my youngest, turns 12 on Sunday. I got her a new tablet, and she wants an ice cream cake. She may have been born in the South but she likes her ice cream year round like a New Englander :) with Jimmies, of course!

Im going to make this a relaxing and fun weekend!

#fiveforfriday

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planetarduino · 6 years ago

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Control discarded copier and tape drive-style displays with Arduino

As hardware hackers, we’re always on the lookout for discarded components that can be re-purposed into something even more awesome. One such class of component that you may find is the controller-less graphics LCD modules, which can be found on old copiers, tape libraries, and the like.

This project by Ivan Kostoski shows how to drive one of these displays with a 320×240 resolution. He’s tested his code using several types of Arduino board, such as the Uno and Leonardo, using minimal external components.

Summary Repository contains code samples for driving 4-bit parallel controllerless graphics LCD (CLGLCD) module with AVR MCU on an Arduino board, using minimal external components and staying within Arduino IDE.

4-bit Controllerless Graphics LCD modules Controllerless graphics LCD modules are antiques that can be salvaged from old copiers, tape libraries, etc… They commonly are missing, well, the controller chip, the one with the memory. Don’t go buying one of these, for Arduino usage, even if you find them on sale. They are usually industrial, have poor viewing angles, generally slow response time, and pain to work-with. There, I said my peace… But if you already have one, their size (i.e. 5.7in) or simplicity can have its uses and beauty.

I have tested this code with 320×240 STN LCD monochrome module marked as F-51543NFU-LW-ADN / PWB51543C-2-V0, salvaged some time ago from retired tape library, without the controller module (which it appears is based on FPGA and wouldn’t be of much use anyway).

The same type of interface (4-bit data) with various signal names is present on many industrial modules based on multiplexed column and common row LCD drivers, like LC79401/LC79431. Or this is what is behind the controller IC. They all have some variations like LCD drive voltage (positive or negative, depending on temperature and size of the module), backlight (LED/CCFL), some logic quirks (i.e. CL2 is ignored while CL1 is up, etc…), so maybe this code can be adapted to other controllerless modules. Module’s datasheet is necessity for the connector pinouts and timing requirements. Some modules may even generate LCD drive voltage internally, and outputting it on a pin so actual V0 driving voltage can be adjusted.

More info on the build/technique is found on GitHub, where you can also download project code and find more background on how interfacing with these devices works.

Control discarded copier and tape drive-style displays with Arduino was originally published on PlanetArduino

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neverwannabefatagain · 6 years ago

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Funny story, and it is actually true.

My first job, I got hired because my lover Kevin McGowan has an older sister Kerry that worked there, so she gave me a referral.

I was 16 and the year was 1999. The store was called “Lechter’s”. Was it named after Hannibal Lechter from Jodi Foster’s movie? (My legal name and birth name is Jodi) I do not know that information.

The manager was a dark skinned African American woman named Angie. (Angie’s List?) She hired me at, I think it was slightly above minimum wage, at $7.25 per hour.

But when I started working there, a new manager already took over. Her name was Wendy Walters. (Peter Pan syndrome) She was a young woman with extremely long dirty blonde hair. She was overweight, but extremely quirky and fun to work with.

We got along great. Within weeks she made me Second Key Holder. The First Key Holder was Rey.

Rey was an extremely old white man, and he was gay. He was very kind. One day I was going into the back room, and he was coming out, and we ran into each other. He cut his hand badly and it bled, and I think he might have gotten stitches. He was never angry for this—he understood it was an accident. He taught me how to search for an apartment. He also introduced me to his partner and I felt honored to meet him. Poor Rey had to catch the last bus at night, so we always had to close the store quite promptly.

Wendy Walters hired another young man, but slightly older than me. I saw him and I was extremely attracted to him. I thought to myself, “This should make work a little more interesting.” Sadly, he told me almost from the get go that he was a homosexual. I was utterly saddened by this fact, and it only got worse the closer we became. It made me sad in a way.

I started sleeping with older men after I broke up with Kevin. I slept with Ryan Gunther who was 21 when I was 17. He got away with his bartender friend serving me a Long Island Iced Tea. He also would give me White Russians at his parent’s home. One night he took me to Hooter’s with his dark skinned friend from New York, and tried to let me drink his beer. I was 17. The waitresses were very keen to what was happening, and said we would be asked to leave if I drank any alcohol. We had to respect that. I was a little embarrassed though.... Ryan Gunther had a shiny Forest Green Prelude, which was his baby. He would hand wash it before taking me out. He always wanted me to cut all my hair off because he said that would be hot. I did not go shorter than chin length.

I then met David Yancey from Newnan. He had a cute roommate named Bryce Hall. Both men were white and older. I met them at Target in the Home goods area. We exchanged numbers. I was wearing my khaki blazer, that I still wear to this very day. I was coming home from seeing my mother at her office. (She let me use her copier for schoolwork) I used the Plan B pill one morning after I had been with David.

They had a friend Kent who I was attracted to, but I think he was more mature and moral than the rest and he chose to teach me and guide me rather than take advantage of a young girl’s affection. I respected him for that. He was a Karate student and showed me videos of him In tournaments. He was a tall muscular white man with blue eyes and long blonde hair and a pretty boy face. He always used a bong and I had never seen one of those before then.

One good memory is when we went to see a laser light show where they played Pink Floyd. I think Jacob Benoff was there but I can’t remember. Jacob and I were lovers from 2000-2002. I graduated high school in 2001. When in Paris, France 🇫🇷 In February 2000, I stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower and thought about Jacob.

Jacob and I worked at clubs. He worked at the Tikki Hut as a bar back, and I worked at Club Millenium as a shot girl/cocktail waitress/go-go dancer. I always wore my neon orange bikini top, my white booty shorts, and my neon white plastic wedges. Robert, the club owner, let me pocket almost all of what I made in tips. Everyone loved me there. When we had an all black turn out, they loved me, too. That was when “Shakira” came into being. Whoever she is.

Jacob and I said we wanted better, straight world jobs. So we got jobs at 2 different hotels. He became the General Manager, and they let us stay in the manager’s on property penthouse. I worked at Studio Plus, owned by Extended Stay America. I became the Assistant Manager at 19 in February 2002. I lasted 5 months, before I was fired (the only time I have ever been fired in my life) by Rolanda Willams (Montel Williams? 😂) I was making $45,000 a year.

I met Jason Davis at the hotel where I worked. He was from Detroit and we got along instantly. Jason Davis was one year older than me. He always went and had a beer during his lunch hours. We were both attracted to each other so we had an affair. Jacob had already had his affairs. They made Jason Davis District Manager. He always hired extremely young, thin, attractive Indian (from India) women. He was actually with a girlfriend named Prithy, who was Indian. She was older than him- she was 26 and looking for a pharmaceutical job but having difficulty. She would always call my property and ask if I knew where Jason was. I would tell her whatever Jason told me to tell her. I never met her, but I saw her picture. She had a pretty smile, which prompted me to pay $3000 cash to have my teeth fixed. Jason eventually moved back to Detroit.

After I got fired by the dark skinned, overweight, tall Rolanda Williams, I decided to become a stripper.

To be continued....

The Silence Of The Lambs Directed by Jonathan Demme (1991)

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blackirisposts · 8 years ago

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Rattled Keys and An Unexpected Guest

Darcy's had a day. Like a helluva day. All she wants is to be alone, at home, and have a drink..

Word Count: 2205

Notes: Un-beta’d, I own no characters, swearing, drinking, fluff; you’ve been warned.

Originally posted here: archiveofourown.org/works/2128398

She rattled her keys uncharacteristically loudly as she stomped up the stairs to her apartment.

Today had been a long ass day. Work had been fine, realistically, but between the normal hustle and bustle of her typical day at the lab, life had managed to add a few unsightly events to her already long day.

Coffee spilled on her new cream pumps, which caused her to mentally castrating herself on her decision to deviate from her typical black shoes. She tore her stockings, well thigh highs really, on the subway. She’d been trying to appear classier lately and part of her attempt to do so was to no longer go bare legged while wearing skirts. She should at least try to be a lady to counter when her tongue got away from her.

These things of course were minor in comparison to the events of the destruction of the copier that ultimately ruined her ‘can do’ attitude that she was striving to maintain throughout the day. What she thought had been a paper jam with a simple tug and pull to alleviate the matter ended with her pulling a Tony and had half of the machine dismantled and scattered throughout the office. Of course, to make matters worse while in the midst of fixing the machine, her ever clingy mother called and started on her now weekly drill of questions that affronted her single status and when, not if, but when was she planning on settling down and getting serious with her life.

The ink smudges that covered her arms and skirt were topped off with a small smudge on her forehead. She could care less as she was almost home. Today was not her day and it was beyond time for a drink and long hot shower.

“Hmmpft.” Followed with incomprehensible babble came from her as she fought her front door’s lock. Today it stuck more than normal and she was in no mood for it.

Finally through the door, with another disgruntled moan toward the door, she threw her keys in a bowl and slammed the door shut with her foot before locking the dead bolt on the door.

“Home.” She mumbled leaning on the door and closing her eyes. Off came the newly ruined shoes. “And now for the booze and jazzy music.”

On her way to the kitchen she pulled her blouse off and threw it on the couch. Once in the kitchen she shimmied out of what was left of her stockings and threw them directly in the trash. “Adios you bastards.”

Turning the light on over her stove she reached for her favorite glass and all the fixings for a greatly deserved drink. Remembering her stained skirt, she removed it and to attempt to remove the offending smudges in the kitchen sink, seemingly forgetting her drink in her ministrations.

“Oh screw this.” She said, leaving the skirt in the sink for a later time when her nerves where calmed.

She took her ipod from her bag. Remembering it died on the subway ride into work, she grunted again. Today really wasn’t her day. At least she managed to be wearing matching black lace bra and panties, she thought to herself as she moved to her laptop on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm.. something good, something good..” She mumbled to herself as she surfed through her hoards of music. She clicked on Martin Garrix’s Animals to start. Mainly to kill the silence that she now found unbearably irritating. She needed, if only for a moment, to drown out her thoughts. She skipped to her favorite part of the song, but it still didn’t do it for her. “Next...Next!....Next!!” Obviously shuffle is not working for her today as a string of her usual favorites were not creating the soothing atmosphere she desired. She then settled on a play list, one she rarely lets anyone know she has. It’s of older music. “Frozen Bro’s-Esce” is what she named it. “Esce” as it wasn’t strictly 30’s and 40’s but also 50’s music. In all honestly, she absolutely adores it. Always had. Even before she knew the two men that had gone through so much. As the music starts to drift from her speakers, she starts to relax a little and moves to resume making her drink.

“See the pyramids along the Nile Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle But just remember, darling, all the while You belong to me”

She starts to sing along with the beginning of the second verse and walks to the bathroom, drink in hand when something didn’t seem just right. Something tall and dark caught her eye. So she walks backwards, slowly, into the living room. Hoping beyond hope that if she moves slow enough the funny feeling is really just her frayed nerves sprinkled with newly added spirits and not anything more. She stops and turns, eyeing the living room.

“There it is. The other shoe dropping for my crap-tastic day.” She says. “What are you doing here Ice Man?” Pointing with her drink.

Bucky, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, smirks and looks her over slowly, admiring her bravado and curves.

“Well.. You said to stop by if I was having a bad day or ‘whatever’ and I figured I’d take you up on it for once.” He said, still staring. “And evidently I chose the right night, doll.”

She rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink. Ignoring that she was in her skivvies would be easier once the drink was gone. She was grateful she had only barely started singing along to the music and had not started fully dancing like she usually would have.

“So you decided to break in? I know they had phones back in your day, you could have called first, you know.”

“Yeah, but then I woulda missed out on the show.” He said tilting his head and quirking an eyebrow. “Besides, needed to be somewhere.. different..Away from Mother Steve..” He paused for a beat. “Had I known you strip once you get home, woulda made a point of comin’ here sooner.” He ended with a wink.

“Well, today’s not my day either, Buck-o. Wanna talk or drink about it? Evidently, I’m out.” She said as she raised her empty glass as evidence. She moved back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of vodka and two short cobalt glasses that she set on the coffee table.

“Sit. Pour. Spill.” She commanded as she walked to her bedroom in search of something to cover up with. And what could he do but follow orders.

He’s eight shots in to her four.

After a comfortable silence filled only with pouring liquid, clicks of glasses and exacerbated sighs turning to calm breaths, he picks up her blouse from the seat next to him, “Looks as though you had a day too, doll.” He comments, not really handing it back to her.

“You don’t know the half of it…” She scoffs and grabs the blouse from his hand. “Coulda been worse I suppose.” Darcy swirled her fifth drink before throwing it back. “Coulda been wandering around here naked before I realized your sorry ass was here.” She snorted at the truth of it.

“Seein’ you, and your curves, was the highlight of my day. That can’t be the worst part of your day.” Stalling, always stalling this one.

“You’re not getting away with it that easily, mister.” Her almost slur was an art form. “Besides, I’m covered now!” Waving a hand at her tank top, yoga pants and vintage style silk robe. Looking down at the robe while hearing the next song come on, another of Ella Fitzgerald’s, she wondered if she was the 'one out of time.'

He simply responded with a smirk as he poured another round.

Bucky’s at fifteen. Darcy’s at nine, well eight and a half.

“You gotta stop stalling Buck-Buck.”

“You gotta stop pestering, doll.”

“Hey, I’m not the one that admitted I was having a bad day.”

“You didn’t have to, doll. You attacked the door and threw your clothes all over the place. Not that I’m complainin’ about the last bit.”

“Well, I’m sure the door was in a more proper working order ‘till someone decided it’d be easier to fuck with my lock than drop a text or call.” She accused, raising an eyebrow. “But you did come over here ‘cuz of a bad day, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, my ass. You never come over here unless I drag you over.” She countered.

Chuckling and downing another glass, “I like you and your ass.” He mumbles.

Bucky: Eighteen.

Darcy: Nine.

She’s sprawled from her side of the couch to most of his, again, not that he’s complaining. Her legs are slung over his and she traces the plates that make up his left arm; both of which he finds oddly grounding. She’s just the distraction he needed. She’s smart and funny and doesn’t treat him like he’s a broken mess that needs constant protecting. When he first got there she was one of the first to call him on his shit and make fun of him when everyone else had kept quiet. And she’s got the body to match the mouth she has. Both of which get him going, but he keeps that on lock down, never knowing, regardless of his training, if she could ever want more of him. More of them.

That is until today. Tonight really. He’s had a terrible day and needed a boost after another successful mission gone dark that sparked flash backs and memories he thought he’d reconciled. His therapist helps, but only so much. Her. She helps more. Even if he’s not the one talking. Ok, especially when he’s not the one talking. He loves that she rambles at times, like she is now. Loves? Really? Yeah. He does. He loves her.

Bucky: Twenty three.

Darcy: Ten.

“I know you’re all..” waves hands..”Super soldiery and all, but shouldn’t you like, you know, slow down, or not drink All the Vodka?”

“’ur cute when you worry, doll.”

“Pshh, you woulda loved me in high school then. College too. Hey, did you even go to high school? I was looking at my great grandfather death certificate forever ago and he stopped going to school after the eighth grade. Is that..was that common?..”

And there she goes again, rambling away when anyone else would have kept their mouths shut or said something beyond safe instead.

“..Oh..I..uh..Sorry..Prolly don’t wanna talk about that..or maybe don’t remember?” The vodka, right. She stopping drink awhile ago. Afraid to truly and fully let her guard down and knew it would only break that barrier down all the faster if she keep downing drinks. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. The problem, if you like to call it that, was that she liked him. Or maybe more than liked. But she tried not to let her mind wander down the path of ‘how much exactly do I like the formerly brainwashed assassin turned good-guy, when he probably only sees me as a friend like he does Rogers.’

“Don’t mind you asking, doll face.” He’s talking again, breaking her derailed train of thought. “You really wanna know about the time or just curious about me?” giving her another sideways glance with a smirk as he fills the small cobalt glasses.

“You. Well..both, both is good” she stammers, smiling wide in attempts to hide her blush and previous thoughts from her face, “you know that’s fro-“

Her reveal is cut short by his reveal. His lips brushing hers, as his real hand comes up and cups her face in earnest. Her lips aren’t moving, she’s frozen, but it’s a good frozen. Her surprise is overwhelming her, making her unable to move. Her eyebrows are rocketed towards her hair line but she manages to at least slam her eyes shut. A grin slowly forms on her lips. As he begins to doubt himself in her stillness and draw back from the mistake of this kiss, and soon after her apartment, she grabs the collar of his shirt and draws him in closer for a proper kiss.

Now it’s his time to smile slightly as her lips find his again. Her hands fisting in his shirt relax and move to his neck and the base of his head as her lips start to move against his. His fingers become tangled in her hair. His metal hand now resting around her waist, absently tracing the edge of where her top has risen exposing warm skin, the weight of it slowly registers and brings her from her dream state.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, yourself doll.” He moves so their foreheads are just touching, his fingers in her hair, thumb rubbing over her cheek.

“Gotta say, didn’t think you had it in you. Thought maybe you went all Steve on me and couldn’t see me as anything more than a comrade.” She said, grin going a little goofy.

“Maybe it just took me a while to finally act on it.” He shrugged, before bringing his lips to hers again.

#Darcy #darcy lewis #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #drinking #mentions of Tony #mentions of Steve #marvel #crack #first kiss #friends to #friends to lovers #music #music feels #sass #booze #fluff

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byfatedchance · 6 years ago

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Too Little, Too Late — 2.14.19

“Where are we going now daddy?” The bright eyed toddler queried. As part of their daddy-daughter early dinner date Alek took Liya to get ice cream, the two of them walking hand in hand back to the restaurant, each with a cone, double scoops insisted upon by the four year old, her mouth smudged with the frozen strawberry treat. “Brain freeze,” she shuddered. In a show of sympathy Alek shuddered too, perhaps more over the top than necessary, pretending he had one too, which got a laugh from Liya who quickly forgot of her own. “Maybe we shouldn’t eat it so fast, Alek suggested and wiped ice cream off her lips. “I was thinking we could make a stop. I want to get flowers for Nonna and your aunts for Valentine’s day.” Alek hadn’t had a date for the last two years so he preferred to spoil his mom and sisters with sweet little gifts for the holiday. Later tonight he would build a blanket fort with his daughter and watch Disney princess movies, never complaining that he’d seen them a thousand times and he could recite every line from memory. “Will you help me pick some out?” Instead of a response from Liya he felt a very enthusiastic tug, at which Alek chuckled and allowed himself to be dragged forward by the sheer strength of a four year old.

As soon as they stepped foot into the shop off the corner the little girl let go and took off. “I know which flowers Auntie likes. Imma find ‘em.” Alek trailed behind not able to match the speed of the toddler. “Excuse me.” Liya stood on her tiptoes so she wouldn’t appear so little in trying to catch the attention of the florist. The woman leaned across the counter towards the sound of the miniature voice that addressed her. “Do you have any turnips?” Used to his daughter’s funny vocabulary Alek stuffed his hands into his pockets and explained, smiling in amusement, “she means tulips.” When shown to them out he smiled again and thanked the florist. For his mom he selected roses and not wanting to exclude his daughter he picked out a sunflower and tucked one behind her ears. “For you princepesa, my sunshine.” It was true she was the light of his life, the only good that came from his brief fling with his ex. While perusing through the various bouquets he recalled seeing fresh flowers on Naomi’s desk, tried to remember which he’d seen, and wondered if it might be a nice gesture if he got her some. He could bring her desserts too, which he knew she pretended to hate, along with the flowers. His fingers brushed through the petals of rosaleas. Alek put his nose towards the daisies. “Are we getting more?“ Liya mimicked him and smelled the flowers. “Yeah. For a friend. I think she might like some.” Between managing the restaurant and devoting his free time to Liya he regretted not seeing Naomi as much as he’d like. If he was being honest, he missed having her around, her absence from the restaurant not gone unnoticed by him. “Which do you think she will like better?” Liya pondered the options and after careful consideration decided, “the pink ones.” Alek smiled and agreed, hoping that Naomi will like them too.

——

Naomi glanced down at her gold Cartier watch, a gift from her parents after she graduated from NYU, simultaneously typing and checking the time. If she hurried she could submit her story before heading out for her date, one that she had been reluctant to go on since she didn’t know who he was, given only a description and name and told that he was cute, as if that last part should be the deciding factor. With everything that she had been through, diagnosed with a heart condition at a young age, Naomi made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t shirk from the things that scared her, the unknown, but to be present, be open to new experiences and take life day by day. Who knew what the evening had in store for her, maybe she would end up having a very good time with her mystery date, and she wasn’t going to deprive herself of finding out. Since meeting Alek she had a hard time reading him. If he was interested in her she couldn’t tell; one moment they got along great, there had been some subtle flirting, then suddenly he completely iced her out with no explanation. Whatever his deal was, Naomi didn’t wait around for things to happen.

Propping her phone up on the desk Naomi dialed her best friend. She removed the dress off its hanger and wondered if it was too flashy. Though just a casual date, Naomi loved any opportunity to get dolled up. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date?” Blake popped up on the phone screen. “I’m getting ready,” Naomi assured him, then again when he cast suspicion at the slouchy joggers and an off-the-shoulder sweater that she still wore. “I am. I need your help picking out what to wear. Which one?” Placing the two outfits in front of her body she showed him a white dress with plunging neckline then a lace bodice cami jumpsuit. Blake, always flattered that she relied on him for wardrobe advice when Naomi had friends in the fashion industry, advised against the second. “Sweetie that jumpsuit makes you look too corporate, like you’re meeting to talk business.” Naomi visualized herself in it in front of the mirror. “I think the lace makes it very sexy,” she countered. “Yeah, but do you want to hire him or?” Naomi blushed. “Oh my god, no! I don’t want to get into his pants. I want to have a good time but not that good of a time. I don’t even know him.” Blake laughed and pretty soon Naomi couldn’t help but join him. “I hate that you’re right.” She tossed the jumpsuit to the side.

Naomi moved away from the phone to strip out of her clothes and changed into the dress. “So what have you and Carson got planned tonight?” She struggled with the zipper in the back. “I’ve turned the apartment into a mini art gallery with a bunch of cute photos of us put up everywhere.“ The hopeless romantic in Naomi who adored cute, cheesy proclamations of love beamed at the idea. “That’s so cute. Do you already have it set up? Can I see?” Among the exhibits that Blake showed her were polaroids strung up on yarns in one room, a photo collage in the shape of a heart in another, and a projector that displayed silent black and white clips of the couple onto a wall. “Aww, Blake. It’s perfect. Carson will love it. I wish someone would do something like that for me,” she mused, that last part intended to be a private thought. “Thanks. I really like him, you know? Maybe you will meet that someone tonight. Let me see that dress on you.” The dress, tiny pearl beads lining the neckline, scooped low to tease a little cleavage. “What do you think?” Blake whistled his approval. “Poor guy is going to have a difficult time focusing or breathing when he sees you in that.” Naomi felt her cheeks flush, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. “It’s not too much? I’m not trying to give anyone a heart attack,” she chuckled, “could you imagine, and I don’t want him to be too caught up in how I look.” Blake assured her she looked beautiful. “That’s Carson at the door. Talk to you soon? Good luck on your date, babe.” At the sound of knocking he hastily ended the call and left Naomi to finish with hair and makeup.

As Naomi slipped out of her building she received a text from a coworker asking a favor. Of course she would assume Naomi was still at the office working, everyone knew she often stayed late, and she would almost be correct except for the location. Since the place where Naomi was to meet up with her date wasn’t too far away she figured she would have enough time to stop by. After rifling through for the document Naomi took the papers to the copier to be scanned and emailed. It was as she reached for a paper clip that Naomi heard faint rustling, like footsteps, then a small thud.

Had the building been this empty the last time he came by, Alek wondered then remember what day it was, spouses and couples probably gone early to be with their significant others. This time he didn’t need directions to her office. He picked at the collar of his shirt, which met his nostrils briefly for a quick smell test to make sure he didn’t smell like pasta. In hind sight he should have thought to look more presentable before showing up. Not only that, he should have texted beforehand to make sure Naomi was still around. The elevator ticked at each floor it passed before the doors opened. He stepped out. With every empty desk he passed Alek began to lose confidence that he would catch her, but then stopped, too stunned to approach any further. “Wow...” he muttered quietly. There she was feeding papers into the copier machine. She looked breathtaking, no ethereal would be how he would describe her. How could he approach her when she looked like a modern princess in white and he in his drab grays. He convinced himself that she was busy, as if scanning documents was a complicated task that required intense focus. He would come back another time, Alek decided, but after turning around and walking a few paces he reconsidered. The flowers might wilt the next time he would see her. Swiveling back Alek didn’t watch where he was going and bumped into a desk. Loud. Banged his knee hard. “Fuck!”

“Who’s there?” Naomi called out. She hadn’t seen anyone else on the floor on her way in. “It’s me,” Alek groaned in response. Recognizing that voice she hurried towards him. “What are you doing here? Are you ok?” Naomi looked around and pulled out a chair for him. “Sit here.” Alek gratefully took a seat. He didn’t knew which was greater, the pain or his embarrassment. So much for being smooth. If his sister saw him now she would no doubt be laughing at his expense. “Yeah, I’m ok. I...” Looking into her concerned brown eyes he lost his words for a moment. He followed her gaze to the bouquet in his hand. “Those are for you,” he finally replied, which probably sounded as dumb as he felt. “You got me flowers? Why?” She didn’t mean for it to sound like she wasn’t appreciative, only that it was unexpected so she didn’t know how to respond to them. “I thought you might like them. Am I wrong?” Naomi shook her head. “No, they’re lovely. You didn’t have to get me anything.” While it was sweet of him, and she loved the flowers, she had to remind herself Alek had been ignoring her ever since the night at the winery. If anything the sweet gesture made more confused. This was their first face to face encounter. An explanation would have been nice, but it didn’t look like he was prepared to give her one. “Let me go get you some ice for that,” she offered.

Alek tended to his throbbing knee, each touch making the sensation worst. Naomi returned with ice cubes loosely wrapped in paper towels. “Here you go.” He took the ice and gave a small smile despite wincing when he put the ice pack over his knee. “Thank you.” Alek could feel her worried eyes on him. “It looks worse than it feels,” he stated unconvincingly. Naomi must have sensed his pain because her hand did not leave his when she handed him the ice pack. Instead it stayed on top of his hand over the ice pack. She must have gotten a sense of how long her hand lingered and pulled it back. “You’ll probably have a nasty bruise in the morning but it looks like you’re going to be fine. I would suggest watching where you’re going or you’ll end up like me.” When he failed to comprehend Naomi showed him her ankle, a salonpas patch taped there, and told him how she nearly twisted it after her heels got caught in one of the city’s street grates. “Luckily I didn’t injure it too badly. No ankle brace, or worst crutches.” Naomi scrunched her nose and chuckled softly. Alek didn’t know whether to be concerned or amused so he shared a chuckle with her. “Those things are dangerous. I get my heels stuck in them all the time.” Naomi reached over and playfully swat at his arm. “I’m here trying to share in your pain and you’re making fun of me?” she scoffed. Alek held up his hands defensively, the ice pack sliding off his leg but Naomi caught it in time and cautiously returned onto his knee. “My apologies. Know what let me make it up to you. I come bearing treats. I also brought you these.” He pushed the box of Italian desserts across the desk. “I figured they’d be better than chocolate. Happy Valentine’s Day.” She peered inside, helpless to stop the grin that spread across her lips. Suddenly Naomi resented him a little less. He wasn’t winning his way into her heart anytime soon, but at least he knew the way to her stomach. “Damn you, Casanova,” she muttered. “What was that? I’ll have you know my zeppoles are very offended at you speaking in vain like that.” Naomi rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re a idiot,” she wasn’t afraid to call him out for what his was. “Foods don’t have feelings. You know why exactly why I said that.” Alek laughed, fair point. “Go ahead, have one.” When she hesitated, he pressed on, “You know you want to. I’ll feel better if you do.” Naomi laughed in disbelief. “Oh sure, me eating your devilish treats will magically cure your knee.” The more she stared at the zeppoles, they more they beckoned her to eat them. Any efforts to resist dissolved when her hand dipped into the box. “I don’t know, I shouldn’t. But no one’s stopping me right?” Alek shrugged and smiled when she gave in and took a bite. “Better?” she asked mid-chewing. “Much,” he grinned.

With a ping of her phone Naomi checked her new text message. “Oh no, I’m late.” She brushed the crumbs off her fingers. “I’ve got a date.” As soon as she said that she wondered if she had overshared. “Oh...” His heart sank. Although disappointed Alek tried not to show it as he got back on his feet. So that had been the reason why she was dressed up so nicely, not that she didn’t always look beautiful to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can show myself out. Enjoy your date.” Feeling like a fool he looked for a quick exit. Naomi nodded, glad that he was understanding. She hung back so she could avoid the elevator trip with him.

Alek limped his way out, his stupid knee still bothering him. But what bothered him more was that she was going on a date with someone else. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he liked her. After his ex left him with Liya he didn’t allow himself to get too close with anyone. Naomi was the first woman he felt comfortable around in a long time. Alek shook his head. It didn’t matter anyway, she was interested in someone else and his daughter’s needs would always come before anyone else, including what he wanted. Still, it really sucked finding out that someone else would be taking her out and showing her a good time. He wished he’d been the one on the date with her. Shoving his hands into his pockets he sulked back to the restaurant.

Waiting five minutes, enough time for him to leave the building, Naomi grabbed her keys and purse. She checked the address her date had texted her. To her shock the sign above with its familiar surname greeted her. Cassano. Of all the restaurants in the city this would be the location of her blind date. After pacing around and against her reservations of why she shouldn’t be here, mainly that Alek worked there, she decided to go in. Her dress didn’t need any more smoothing out but out of nervousness she continued to straighten it while she waited for the hostess to look up and show her to her table. The guy waiting for her resembled Thor, long wavy hair, bulging muscles underneath a crisp button down shirt that looked a size too small for him and probably deliberately picked out to show off his arms. He stood up and introduced himself to her, “Greyson, nice to meet you.” Naomi extended her hand and smiled warmly. “Naomi. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Because of Valentine’s Day the restaurant had been busier than usual. Alek extended his help, but only for another hour in keeping his promise to spend the evening with his daughter. “Has anyone seen my apron?” he shouted over the chatter and clatter of dishes. “By the bar, boss,” one of the waiters informed him. As he hobbled his way over there a woman called for his attention. “Excuse me sir, could you recommend a salad? It’s our first time here.” Alek smiled politely, “Certainly. Any allergies? I would say everything is delicious but I‘m particularly biased.” He introduced himself as the chef, his amicable personality winning them over instantly and sure to earn big tips for whoever waited on the table. Alek made his rounds, checking on his customers and their foods, and finally headed toward the hostess area to see how his girls were doing. From a distance he could see a fidgety woman waiting at the front. Had she been helped? Her familiarity stopped him from coming any closer and offering his assistance, the brunette unmistakably Naomi. Instead he retreated to the bar.

Since she had arrived late Naomi didn’t mind that her date had already ordered without her, or that he insisted on ordering for her. Never mind that Naomi already knew which entrees were the best, she’d tried and loved them all. Her favorite was the chicken piccata, fell in love with it at first bite as she’d jokingly told Alek, and when he learned that her date had skipped appetizers, he tried not to show his disapproval. Not to mention the choice of wine, the guy had gotten it wrong. Red wines went with meats, and he knew Naomi favored Riesling or that her pasta paired better with Chardonnay, but he didn’t want to come off as a wine snob. All he could do was stay in the background and watch.

Though ridiculously attractive, her friends had great taste, Naomi found that she had little in common with Greyson, a model. New York was full of them. Finally a topic perked her interest, their mutual love for traveling, but again Naomi was let down when it was for different reasons. Whereas she preferred to immerse herself in the cultures of new places she visited she learned he didn’t care for any of it. He liked to talk a lot, mostly about himself. She could barely get in a word herself. At some point she stopped listening entirely, instead daydreaming about the rest of the zeppole she would eat when she got home. That managed to make her smile. She nodded and smiled throughout the evening to give the pretense that she was interested in what he’d been saying. Naomi snapped out of her daydreams of desserts when a shadow loomed over her, then the sound of his voice speaking to her, to them. “Complimentary of the owner. Valentine’s special.” Alek smiled down at her and presented them with a bottle of Vermentino. When he announced it his eyes concentrated on Naomi. He couldn’t help himself, he had to at least engage with them once and get a better sense of how the date was going. Naomi noticed that none of the other tables received free wine but didn’t comment on it. She smiled and mouthed thank you, while Greyson thanked Alek. “Would you like to order any desserts?” Alek winked at Naomi. “YES!” she responded much too enthusiastically.

At the end of the evening when Greyson and Naomi parted ways she pretended to have left something inside so she could go back in, insisting that he not wait for her. Naomi asked around for Alek but the staff told her the same thing, that he’d already left. When asked if she wanted to let him know she was looking for him, Naomi simply said no.

#para.#p: too little too late #2.14.19

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suhotrashanon · 8 years ago

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Icing Pt.1

Okay so it’s not a Bite Back chapter and I’m a little sorry. I’ve wanted to write this for a while so here is something.

Thanks again to @btsbiaslove and @writeiolite for looking over it ! I hope the rest of you like it !!

You wish you could be like your colleagues and love your job. Coming in every day with purpose and excitement, but life doesn’t always go the way you want it to. What made it worse was you were actually good at your job. Something that frustrated you to no end. If only it didn’t pay really well, that just made it even harder to leave. All in all, it was a great job but you had no passion for it. No real reason to stay but yet here you were. Damn, you really wished you loved your job.

Did you want to get a business degree? No, but did your parents pay for school on the condition you took a business degree? Yes. That being said, if it wasn’t for your job you wouldn’t have met your boyfriend. Jaebum, who was following his dream unlike you, was such a passionate pastry chef. It was part of the reason you fell in love with him, his passion. In all honesty, you envied your boyfriend for going after his dream, and you’d chase your own dream if you could. The only problem is that required having a dream in the first place.

It was this fact that leads you to take your parents up on their offer. It had its benefits but really you just ended up being stuck in an office, stuck to your desk, stuck dreaming about what could have been. Dreaming of what you could be.

Sometimes in the morning, you would sit back while enjoying your morning coffee and think about the past and how you got here. Today your mind wandered back to when you first arrived here three years ago and the events that led you to meet Jaebum.

------------------------------------FLASH-BACK---------------------------------------

You were excited to get such a nice job with the opportunity to grow and move up. Currently, though, you were only trusted to get coffee, barely trusted anymore to make copies. Even though you were the top of your class and graduated from one of the best universities, they treated you like some idiot that could barely get the copier to work. In your defense, Bertha, the copier, was out to get you. She’s the one that decided to eat your shirt three weeks in. After the incident, you were only trusted to get the coffees. “Damn Bertha that bitch,” you’d mumbled under breath on more than one occasion.

Every day you were expected to get to work before everyone, coffee in hand. Not too early, no one likes cold coffee and not too late in the case, god forbid, someone got there and there was no coffee. Your boss was particular about her coffee and demanded that it be bought from a specific bakery. The bakery in question was out of your way but at least it wasn’t too far from the company. Eventually, you got the timing down to a science, no one got there before 8:30, so as long as you had the coffee there by 8:20 you were safe. This meant getting to the bakery by 7:30, because there was always a line, and getting out of there by 8.

Every day like clockwork you were there at the bakery, waiting in line. It wasn’t all bad. You were able to watch the pastry chefs as they started preparing for the day. Rolling dough, baking cakes, yelling at each other and laughing. It made you smile. Besides one of them was really beautiful. His smile made you melt on the inside. The way his laugh floated towards you every morning made standing in that line the best part of your day. After a week you deducted his name was Jaebum. You had heard it by chance one morning when the head baker was showing him how to properly do something. He was obviously in training.

Soon you became familiar with every cashier and barista that worked there. Seeing you every morning and most afternoons when your boss needed their afternoon fix. Everyone became very familiar with you. The bakery soon became like a second home. You found yourself gravitating there every night after your day was over just to get a glimpse of Jaebum leaving. Plus the food there was really good. Whether it be the pastries or the sandwiches they made it was all delicious.

One night you found yourself getting off work early, perfect timing to catch Jaebum before he left. You just wanted one small glimpse of his smile, one fleeting moment to be in his presence. “Hi Y/N, what are you in the mood for tonight?” Christine asked. She was the night cashier and barista. She was also probably your favourite because she constantly added extra treats into your bag.

“Evening Christine,” you stared at the board trying to decide before looking back at Christine, “You know what, I trust your judgment. Give me whatever sandwich, something sweet and a drink.” you say flashing her a smile.

She laughed and responds “So your usual then?”

After getting your food you sit down and start looking out the window. You didn't get a chance to see Jaebum today. If you think back to earlier that morning you don't think you saw him at all. Just your luck you get off early on a day where he doesn’t work. You sigh and take a bit of the sandwich.

“Yum,” you think as you bite into your sandwich. It was a perfectly grilled piece of salmon with a dill aioli mayo, some sort of green plant on ciabatta bread. All the flavours seemed to dance in your mouth and you got lost in it. Taking a drink you found the simple iced coffee’s bitterness to compliment the richness of the sandwich. As you readied you hear for dessert you heard a voice ask, “Mind if I join you?”

You were floored, you didn't need to look up to know who was asking to join you. It was Jaebum.

“Ah. Yeah. Sure. Please sit,” you stammer out.

“My name is Jaebum.” He tells you as he sits.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” you reply. Quickly, wiped the side of your mouth in case some of the mayo got away from you.

“Don’t be freaked out, but I already know your name.” He looked nervous now.

“You do?” it shocked you, he actually knew who you were.

“Yeah, Christine told me. In fact,” he was leaning in closer now. “It’s my day off today, but I had her promise to call me if you showed up,” Pulling away he looked completely embarrassed about his confession.

All you could do was sit there dumbfounded. Why had he come in on his day off just for you? When you hadn’t responded Jaebum began to panic.

“I’m sorry I hope you don’t find this weird. I just...You are in here like every day getting coffee for your job and you seem very diligent. I just wanted to get to know you before you get promoted from coffee girl and I never see you again.” He was turning red now. “Look, I know we don’t know each other, and I don’t know what it is, but whenever I catch a glimpse of your smile all I want to do is smile. Any day I don’t get to see you, even for a split second, it’s a bad day.”

Looking at the way Jaebum is frantically piecing together his confession gives you the courage to speak. “Me too,” you blurt out “any day I don’t see you sucks. I melt every time you smile and I can’t help myself. I didn’t even like eating by myself before, but I come here every day just so I can catch a glimpse of you,” You were looking down at your hands at this point.

You could feel your face heating up and your heart began to pound in your ears drowning out the noise surrounding you. The only thing that seemed to cut through the deafening sound of your drumming heart was Jaebum’s voice.

“Well,” he started, stalling momentarily to gather his courage. “In that case, can I keep you company at dinner sometime? Since you don’t like eating alone,”

You couldn’t help but stupidly smile up at him. A smile he would never see because he himself was smiling at his feet trying to hide his embarrassment. You couldn’t tell if you loved this smile more than the others. I was perfect in every way. It conveyed all his feelings and his secret fears. The embarrassment of asking his crush out and the weight of it hit you and made you fall for him harder.

“I would really like that.” You gathered your courage and reached out to grab his hand.

“Wow, it’s so soft,” you thought to yourself. You felt his hand engulf yours and you both just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.

“It’s a second date then,” he finally said.

“A second date?” Your confusion could be read on your face at his statement.

“Yeah, once you finish that chocolate croissant I’m gonna take you out on our first one.” he sad with a wink. You couldn’t help but chuckle and think of how smooth that was.

“Alright deal. I don’t work tomorrow anyway,” you say taking a bite.

Jaebum surprised you when he rips half of the croissant and eats the half whole. With a full mouth, he explained, “I’m just taking away your stalling time. I’ve waited so long already by not asking you out sooner.”

You then shove your half into your mouth at his comment. As you stand, he takes your hand in his before you’re both rushing out the door. “Make good choices!” you hear Christine call after you.

----------------------------------FLASH-BACK-END-----------------------------------

You are ripped out of your memory at the arrival of the new coffee girl brings the others their coffee. You had your boyfriend to make you coffee in the morning. “Here, this is from your boyfriend,” the girl said with a smile. She was really nice but always seemed to be late, the reason to bring your own coffee. You opened up the small paper bag to be greeted by a chocolate croissant and a note.

“To my beautiful girlfriend,

Hi! You looked really cute when I left for work this morning. The drooling made me weak in the knees. It took all my effort to leave you this morning.Was the coffee still hot when you got up?

This croissant was really just another reminder that I love you.

Sincerely the only man who could love your drooling face,

Im Jaebum.”

“Damn him,” you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him and his stupid note. Outside your cubicle, you could hear a commotion start to rumble.

You sighed, “really this early in the morning…”

“Y/N!” your team leader calls you from somewhere in the office, “we’ve got a problem.”

“Coming!” you yell out. Sighing again you pick up some files and head out to find out what was wrong now. Leaving the croissant forgotten along with the note. You really did hate your job.

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