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dawninlatin · 1 year

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Queen of Peace, chapter 19

A manorian High School AU

Words: 4,7k

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Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

cw: sexually explicit content

that's right guys, you're getting smut;););)

please excuse any mistakes though (and how bad the smut is) because it's 4am here, i just finished the longest chapter i've ever written, and i need to fucking sleep<3

You only get one night upon the shore

So dance like you’ve never danced before

And the dance floor is filling up with blood

But, oh, Lord, you’ve never been so in love

- Florence + The Machine, Mermaids

Dorian glanced at Manon for what was probably the hundredth time in the fifteen minutes they’d been sitting in the library, working on their homework together.

She looked entirely consumed by her math problems, but Dorian knew her well enough by now to notice the tension in her jaw, how high her shoulders were. The whole day, really, she’d seemed…off.

He’d wanted to ask her about it earlier, but the whole day had been a whirlwind of catching up with friends he hadn’t seen for weeks, teachers bombarding them with fresh assignments, and just trying to stay awake after waking up so early again.

Now, though, things had calmed down at the end of the day, and Dorian finally asked, «Is everything alright?»

Manon didn’t even look up from her notebook, she just shrugged. «Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?»

To anyone else, she might have been convincing, but Dorian noted how hard she stared at the book in front of her, how her voice was a little too light.

«Are you sure? You just seem a little…tired today.»

She sighed, before finally looking up, meeting his eyes. Her own had dark circles underneath, giving further confirmation to Dorian’s worries.

«I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and then I show up here and we get way more assignments than I had expected, and we’re not where we should be with the dance team, and-»

Manon halted, squeezing her eyes shut. «Sorry, you don’t wanna hear about all this.»

The last words came out as a whisper, and she looked down at the table once more. Reaching over and taking her hand in his, Dorian said, «Don’t apologize, please. You can always talk to me.»

She didn’t answer, only stroked his hand once, twice. He could tell that there was something else on her mind, but Dorian knew when to stop pushing. They could talk about it later, when Manon was ready.

After a few moments, she gave him a teasing smile, glancing up at him. «As soon as I finish these math problems things will get ten times better. You don’t happen to be an expert on differential equations, do you?»

Dorian snorted. «I sit next to Aelin in that class, so I rarely have any idea what Mr. Kelley is talking about.»

«He’s the teacher who doesn’t give a shit, right?» Manon said with a chuckle, the she cringed. «I was lucky enough to get Mrs. Hughes for the second year in a row.»

«You have my deepest condolences,» Dorian said, putting a fist to his heart as he recalled countless horror stories from other students about the teacher. She loved giving huge assignments without warning and with way too little time to finish them, rarely gave anyone above a B- out of principle, and should have retired about twenty years ago.

Manon was laughing though, her eyes seeming a bit more alive. «I heard she actually got fired once, but they couldn’t get anyone else, so they had to rehire her.»

«This gives me a newfound admiration of Mr. Kelley, you know? He wants to be there as little as we do, and honestly, he’s so real for that.»

«Is it true that he just let someone sleep through an entire lesson once?»

Grinning, Dorian said, «Not just once. He believes that if someone doesn’t want to learn, then that’s not his problem, and if they’re not disturbing him, he doesn’t give a shit.»

«Ugh, why did you get all the fun teachers?» Manon fake-whined, rolling her eyes.

Dorian batted his lashes as he joked, «I guess someone as talented and good-looking as me simply deserve it.»

«Can you make out with a mirror somewhere else, please? I’m trying to do math here.» Manon gagged for emphasis, and then they both lost it, dissolving into giggles, homework forgotten.

These study dates were fun, but they also had a habit of distracting each other so much they rarely got any work done. Not that Dorian minded, though.

«Hey, do you have any plans this Saturday?» Dorian asked when the laughter had died down, suddenly remembering another question he’d been meaning to ask.

Manon closed her book, giving up on the homework for now. Raising a single eyebrow, she replied, «Nope. I’m actually home alone this weekend.»

«Well so is Aelin, and she’s throwing a party, obviously,» Dorian smirked, remembering Aelin’s excited rambling from earlier that day:

«Those idiots has asked my cousin Aedion to ‘keep an eye on me’, so he’s obviously getting us booze and not saying a word about the party as long as he gets to join!»

«Would you perhaps like to go with me?» He gave Manon his best pleading eyes as he asked, hoping and praying she would say yes. When she didn’t answer, he added, «I promise it’ll be fun, and we can leave whenever you want.»

Humming, as if deep in thought, Manon stood up, walking over to Dorian’s side of the table. He pushed his chair out to stand up as well, but before he got the chance, she gracefully sat down on his lap, hands resting on his shoulders.

«I suppose I could…» Manon replied. «Would your friends even want me there?» The question was careful.

Dorian brought his hands to her back, going up and down in lazy strokes. That she even worried about this brought a stinging sensation to his chest. «Of course they would. They know I care about you, and I think you’ll get along pretty well, once you get to know each other.»

He actually worried a little, for the chaos that would unfold when Manon and Aelin eventually became friends and ganged up on the rest of them. He was mostly excited, though, because no doubt Chaol would be the one suffering the most.

«How much have you told them about us?» Manon chewed on her lip as she asked, playing with his hair.

«That we’re friends, but also…more.» They still hadn’t defined whatever was between them, even if Dorian knew exactly what he wanted. He had known for a while though, he just needed to find the right moment to ask…

Fuck it…

Holding Manon’s gaze, her eyes like golden flames, he took a deep breath. «I would love to introduce you as my girlfriend, though?»

He’d known from the second he’d wanted to ask that there was a big chance she’d say no, but part of him had still hoped, and that hope grew as she smiled slightly.

Then she crashed her lips to his in a hungry kiss. While her hands cupped his face, his own traveled down her back until he got a good hold of her magnificent ass. Manon let out a low moan as he squeezed, and the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his dick.

Her tongue pushed against his mouth, and he opened for her, yearning for the taste of her.

Dorian wanted more, needed more, but then they both seemed to remember that they actually were in the middle of the school library, and even if they were alone right now, anyone could walk by and see them.

They managed to force themselves apart, and Dorian was surprised he could even speak, since he was in the midst of the single fucking hottest moment of his life, and all that. «Is that a yes, then?»

Her forehead resting against his, Manon breathed, «Yes, I’ll go to the party with you…as your girlfriend.»

A grin spread on Dorian’s face, one that was mirrored on Manon’s, and she let out a bright laugh, the sound of it the most wonderful Dorian had ever heard.

«Can’t wait,» he murmured back, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

«Me neither,» Manon replied, then she stood up, moving back to her own side.

Before Dorian could even register what was happening, she’d gathered up all her things, putting them in her bag. «What…why…» he stammered out.

Giving him a teasing look, Manon said, «We should probably leave before someone catches us and gives us detention. I also have to be home soon.» Her tone got more serious as she said that last part, and Dorian wished they could have stayed in this bubble forever.

He didn’t move, though, and when Manon was done packing, ready to leave, she asked, «Are you coming too?»

Dorian glanced down, then shifted, trying to hide the boner he was currently sporting. «I can not walk out in front of other people right now.» His face was burning as he said the words.

Manon looked confused for a few seconds, before she broke into a taunting smirk, throwing a pointed glance at his lap. «That sounds like your problem to deal with.»

Then she turned around and left, throwing a careless «Goodbye» over her shoulder. Dorian was sure she swung her hips as much as she did on purpose, knowing his eyes would stay locked on them (and her ass, let’s be real here) until she was out of sight, It certainly didn’t help his situation.

Oh, how he fucking needed it to be Saturday already.

When Manon had agreed to go to the party with Dorian, she had still been a little skeptical, but now, as she walked up to Aelin’s house, hand in hand with her boyfriend, she felt nothing but excitement.

Naturally, meeting and hanging out with his friends made her a little nervous, but she trusted Dorian, believed in him, when he said everything would be fine.

Already, it was filling up with people, the bass of some pop song pulsating out into the cold January night.

Dorian stopped right before the porch, turning towards Manon. «Ready?»

Letting out a foggy breath, Manon gave him a bright smile, reaching up on her toes to press a kiss to his mouth. «Lead the way,» she said, before Dorian brought his arm around her shoulders, tucking her in close.

Together, they entered the house, Dorian taking them right to a spacious kitchen, where Aelin, Chaol, and a few other people Manon recognized from school, were in the midst of an eager discussion.

Immediately, Aelin spotted them and leapt from where she was cozied up to Rowan Whitethorn. «You made it!» she exclaimed, throwing herself around Dorian. Manon didn’t really know what to do with herself, so she just stood there, giving Aelin an awkard hi once she was done embracing Dorian.

Manon had expected a short, somewhat friendly greeting in return, but Aelin had to be pretty drunk already, because to Manon’s great surprise, she threw her arms around her as well. Manon stiffened at first, unsure what to do, but then decided to just roll with it and return the hug. She threw a questioning look at Dorian, but he simply shrugged, giving her a warm smile.

«I’m so glad you wanted to come, too!» Aelin said as she took a step back. Then she turned towards Dorian again, pointing a finger at him. «It was about time you brought your girlfriend around!»

Dorian smirked in answer, and it quickly became clear that Aelin had said it as a taunt, having no idea that as of five days ago, they actually were official, because she went entirely still, then her eyes slowly widened, mouth gaping.

«You ass! You have a girlfriend now and you didn’t tell me?! When did this happen? Give. Me. All. The. Details.» Aelin punctuated those last words by whacking his arm, Dorian twisting away, walking further into the kitchen, to escape the interrogation.

Manon took in the spectacle with a grin, feeling giddy and light, both at being referred to as Dorian’s girlfriend and at the warm welcome. Looking around, she met the eyes of Chaol, Dorian’s other best friend, who gave her a wry smile, then gestured towards Aelin and Dorian. «Good to see you, just help yourself to anything in the fridge while these two wrestle.»

They stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, chatting, drinking and laughing together, music blasting through the house as even more people arrived. Aelin had shrugged when Chaol asked, a simple «Aedion» being her only explanation.

Happy to mostly observe the friendly banter, Manon stuck to Dorian’s side, taking the occasional sip from her second beer. She found herself relaxing more and more, and not only because of the alcohol.

It was so nice to not worry about anything for once, to just be. No expectations, no demands. Manon needed this after the week she’d had, full of important assignments, tests, and…everything else churning in her mind. She’d promised herself not to think about that tonight, and she would keep that promise.

Instead, she leaned further into Dorian, snorting as he told the story of how him and Aelin had made a bet on how long they could keep a carton of milk hidden in their middle school classroom, and how in the end, it had smelled so bad they needed to have class in the library for three days.

«The best part is, we never even got caught,» Aelin stated proudly, high-fiving Dorian.

«I think putting you two in detention would have caused more trouble than it was worth,» Manon found herself replying, earning a slightly maniacal grin from Aelin.

Dorian laughed, his whole body shaking against hers. «It would have been absolute chaos.»

«And you two would probably have found some way to pull me into it,» Chaol sighed, which made them all howl.

Soon after, Rowan announced he was going to see if Lorcan had showed up yet.

Aelin grimaced. «Ew, tell him to fuck off, will you?»

He knocked back his drink, then pressed a kiss to Aelin’s lips. «Anything for you, babe.»

Both Dorian and Chaol pretended to gag at the sight, but Aelin just blew Rowan a kiss as he left, then turned her attention back to the rest of the group.

«Anyone wanna play beer pong?»

Dorian and Chaol more or less got their asses kicked. Dorian had first tried to team up with Manon, but Aelin had protested, claiming that both him and Chaol sucked, and therefore she wanted to be on Manon’s team. Manon had just smirked, flipping them off over her shoulder as she joined Aelin.

It was a terrifying sight, really, but it was also everything he had wanted for tonight, to see Manon getting along with his friends, having fun, even. And after their massive win, Aelin had dragged her towards the dance floor, claiming they had to celebrate, and that this song was amazing!

Manon had easily followed, laughing the entire time.

«You two seem really good together,» Chaol now said from next to him, nodding towards the two girls.

Dorian smiled, savoring the warm, fuzzy feeling in his body. «Yeah, she is just…»

Everything, he wanted to say, but one look at Chaol told him that his best friend knew exactly what Dorian meant.

Chaol’s expression softened. «It’s nice to finally see you so happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.»

«Thanks, man,» Dorian whispered back, suddenly getting emotional. Because he was happy.

He was so indescribably happy.

Looking over at Manon only heightened the feeling. She was dancing with Aelin, and he could see that she definitely knew what she was doing, her lithe body moving smoothly in time with the music, but it was also something carefree over her, something relaxed.

She looked luminous where she moved in the middle of the room, head tipped back in laughter even while she still danced, her hair cascading down her back, glowing in the low light. She was surrounded by dozens of people, but Dorian only saw her.

Then Manon turned around, her eyes locking with his, giving him a bright smile. Dorian wished he had taken a photograph of her in that exact moment, cheeks tinged with pink, golden eyes shining with joy, but he knew if he had, he would have never stopped looking at it.

All Dorian wanted was to close the distance between them and crush his lips against hers, then find somewhere they could be alone. He needed to feel her, taste her.

Manon must have seen the hunger in his eyes, because her smile fell, replaced by something just as wanting, something intense, all-consuming. She motioned towards the dimly lit, less-crowded hallway, and Dorian gave her a confirming nod.

He watched as Manon said something to Aelin, then left the room. Dorian made himself count to ten, before he made up some excuse to Chaol as well, then followed her.

As soon as he stepped away from the crowd, into the more private hallway, Manon was on him, pulling him against her. Their lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue’s clashing, eager to taste one another. Dorian’s hands immediately went to her hair, the long strands like the softest silk against his fingers.

While Dorian slowly backed them towards the wall, Manon’s hands roamed up and down his chest, exploring. She hit the wall with a soft thud, her body flush with his.

Dorian sucked on her lower lip, which made Manon let out a low moan, the sound going straight to Dorian’s hardening cock.

Needing a moment to breathe, Dorian forced himself to pull away. He braced his arms on either side of her head, both of them panting.

«Is there somewhere we can…» Manon began, chewing on her lip.

It took everything in Dorian to not lean down and capture that lip between his own teeth. Instead he nodded, leading her towards what he knew was the guest room.

Manon needed to be as close to Dorian as possible right now. She had never been so sure of anything in her life.

Holding her hands in his, he led them up the stairs, and into an empty bedroom, door closing behind them and reducing the noise of the party to a low, thrumming heartbeat.

Her own heart was hammering right now, but not from nerves, only from pure need.

So Manon reached up, claiming Dorian’s mouth while pushing him towards the bed in the center of the room with hurried steps.

He sat down, pulling her with him so that her knees rested on either side of him.

Manon could feel his erection pressing against her core, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through her. She rolled her hips once, drawing a groan out of Dorian, who started trailing kisses down her neck.

His hands moved beneath her shirt, slowly lifting it, and Manon found herself panting, «Just so you know, I haven’t done this before.»

He abruptly stopped, Manon mentally cursing herself for opening her stupid mouth. He looked up at her, his hungry expression replaced by that caring gaze she knew so well.

«It’s okay, we don’t have to-»

«I didn’t say I didn’t want to,» Manon interrupted, because she definitely wanted to have sex with him right now. It had been the only thing on her mind as she’d locked eyes with him across the room when she’d been dancing earlier. He’d been smiling from his conversation with Chaol, his deep blue eyes twinkling, his hair perfectly messy. Manon had wanted to brush her fingers through it, see how much more messy she could make it. Had wanted to feel his skin against hers with nothing between them.

Now, though, she felt herself blush under his attentive gaze.

«It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,» Dorian murmured, brushing a featherlight finger over her burning cheek.

Manon knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about. There weren’t that many opportunities to lose your virginity when you spent all your time at home, doing schoolwork, and she was fine with that, but being so unsure of what to do, what to say, was an unusual feeling for her, when she was so used to being in control all the time.

As if reading her thoughts, Dorian said, «If you tell me when something feels good, or when it doesn’t, and I’ll do the same, we’ll be fine. I promise.» He pressed a light kiss to her lips. «And we can stop at any moment if you need to.» Another kiss.

She had never felt so vulnerable before, but that was the thing about Dorian; being vulnerable with him never felt scary or overwhelming, it felt safe, good, even. It made her feel free.

So Manon reached down, taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head, before claiming Dorian’s mouth. His hands immediately went to her lace-covered breasts, fingers brushing over her hardening nipples.

Manon moaned in response, urging Dorian to take his own shirt off. The rest of their clothes soon followed, leaving them in only their underwear.

Then Dorian reached behind her to unclasp her bralette, freeing her small breasts. His mouth started trailing down her chest, and right before he reached one of her nipples, he looked up at her, asking, «Is this okay?»

«Uh-huh,» Manon nodded in answer, grinding against him as he finally brought his mouth to that nipple, sucking lightly on the rosy peak. Dorian was fully hard against her now, and Manon rolled her hips, needing more, more, more.

Dorian’s back hit the bed, pulling her with him, then he rolled them over so that he was on top.

He cupped her breasts with his hands, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then trailed down, down, stopping right before the line of her panties. Before he could even ask, Manon lifted her hips, urging him to take them off and just touch her already. She was burning from within.

Dorian obeyed with a smirk, then brought a single finger to her center, cursing when he found her to already be soaking wet. He stroked that finger up and down her slit, before he thrust it inside her.

Manon moaned, rolling her hips in time with his strokes, her own hands palming him through his boxers.

That finger was soon joined by a second, and when Dorian started applying pressure to her clit, Manon quickly found herself cascading towards release.

«Dorian,» she moaned as she came undone on his fingers, her body going taut, then loose, Dorian’s fingers still stroking her through the entire thing. It was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

As she came down from her high, Dorian brought his hand up to his mouth, licking it clean. The sight had Manon ready to go again in seconds, and she reached into his boxers, pulling the length of him free.

She’d felt it earlier, that he was big, but her eyes still widened slightly at the sight of him, hard and ready. Dorian groaned as she stroked him once, twice. Meeting his sapphire blue eyes, she said, «I want you. Now.»

Dorian blinked, then leapt off her, discarding his boxers and picking up something from his jeans lying on the floor. Manon let out a low chuckle at his eagerness, but already, she craved the feel of his skin against hers again.

When he returned, Manon saw that the object he’d retrieved was a condom. He made quick work of putting it on, and when he was done, Manon reached up, grabbing his shoulders to pull him back down to her, their mouths meeting in a deep kiss.

She spread her legs to make room for him, and Dorian lined himself up with her core, but then he stopped.

«Are you sure?» Dorian asked one final time, his gaze so intense she couldn’t look away even if she’d wanted to.

«Yes,» Manon breathed, then he so slowly, so gently, pushed into her, all while stroking her clit.

Manon moaned at the sensation, at how he filled her, stretched her open. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a feeling she was used to.

«You feel so good, you’re so good, Manon» Dorian groaned, and his words made her center throb in pleasure. She had never felt so full.

He gave her a moment to adjust, but Manon soon found herself needing more friction, so when she wriggled her hips, he pulled out slightly before pushing in again. «Tell me if it hurts, right?»

Manon nodded in answer, unable to form words right now.

Dorian soon found a slow, steady rhythm, and Manon started rolling her hips to meet his thrusts.

After a few moments, he stilled, though, and when he didn’t move, Manon asked in a breathless voice, «Why did you stop?»

«Just trying to make it last longer,» Dorian panted, burying his head in her neck.

Stroking up and down his back, Manon suggested surprisingly confidently, «Can I be on top?»

«Fuck yes,» Dorian mumbled against her skin, before he slowly pulled out of her and sat up, tugging her with him.

Manon could have cried at feeling so empty after being so full mere seconds ago, but it didn’t take long before her mouth was on Dorian’s again, and she fisted his cock, positioning him against her core.

They both groaned at the sensation as she gradually sank down on him, this position allowing him to go even deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside her.

She started moving up and down in a slow rhythm, one of Dorian’s hands going back to her clit, the other to her hip, helping in guiding her.

The deep strokes paired with the pressure on her clit made that blissful wave rise again, and Manon let her forehead fall to Dorian’s, her eyes landing on where they were joined.

It was the hottest fucking thing she had ever seen, and stroke by stroke, the wave rose, nearing the edge.

Dorian was shaking beneath her, trying to hold back his own release. «Fuck, Manon.»

«I’m close,» Manon managed to choke out. She sank down on him one final time, right as Dorian pressed his thumb down on her clit, sucking on a sensitive spot on her neck.

She cried out as she came a second time, her whole body tightening. In her pleasure-haze, she was aware of Dorian’s rhythm faltering, him moaning her name against her neck as he joined her in that glorious release.

They clung to each other, staying as close as possible, as the world went quiet. Dorian brought a hand to her face, brushing her hair out of the way, and Manon gave him a soft smile, her body feeling wondrously calm.

«Are you okay?» Dorian whispered, always caring about her wellbeing.

Manon pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips before she whispered back, «More than okay.»

Later, Manon lay cradled in Dorian’s arms, listening to his steady breathing.

She felt almost giddy, even if her eyelids were heavy, moments away from falling asleep.

Tonight had been probably the best night of her life, cliché as it was.

And it had made Manon realize what she’d missed out on, all this time. Not just the partying, but having friends, joking about anything, laughing, feeling so light and free and like she could just be, and no one would fault her for it.

She deserved to feel this way, deserved to be happy. And she deserved to be happy with Dorian. Because how could she go back to her old life, where all that mattered was living up to her grandmother’s impossible expectations, when she had finally learned what it was like to actually live?

Her grandmother could go and fuck herself, Manon decided. She only had a few months left before she could leave that house for good. And until then, she could pretend, she could be good, stay in line, but she refused to give up on all the good things in her life, refused to give up on Dorian.

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @gwynethhberdara @darklingswhxore @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @rainbowcheetah512 @mirubyjane @zoyalovesbooks @wishfulimaginings

#manorian #manorian fic #dawninlatin QoP #manon x dorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #sarah j maas fanfiction #sarah j maas

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harringtonswriting · 2 years

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round and round | s.h.

summary: in which hawkins gets a roller rink, max gets to zoom, and steve is in over his head with you [post-season 4] pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader warning(s): light language word count: 3.9k notes: thanks for reading! this is hopefully the first of many steve fics, but i hope you enjoy! this also takes place after max wakes up from her coma. she’s blind and in a wheelchair after what happened with vecna, and is an absolute menace (affectionate)

...

Steve has one lone, blessed day off this entire week; he was going to kill Keith for messing up the schedule as badly as he did, because working six days in a row? Covering three call-ins and leaving Steve to close alone twice in the last week? Steve can feel the exhaustion in his bones, and he is absolutely planning on using his day off to lay in bed and do absolutely nothing all day.

But the universe has other plans – it always does, where Steve is concerned. Which is why he’s awoken by the sound of the phone ringing way too early in the goddamn morning.

Initially he decides to just let it ring–it’ll go to voicemail, and the person will leave a message, and Steve can go back to sleep for a few more hours before he decides to see who it is and what they want. Steve pulls a pillow over his head, willing the sound of the phone to hurry up and stop so he can go back to the rather wonderful dream he was having.

Only it doesn’t stop. Not completely. It goes to voicemail, Steve assumes, but then almost immediately starts ringing again. And again. And again.

Steve swears loudly, throwing the pillow off his head and groaning as he goes to find the nearest phone to his bedroom and pick it up.

“Hello?” he asks, not caring that his voice is definitely much more curt than usual. He’s tired and he really hopes it’s a telemarketer that he can rip into so that he can go back to bed.

“Steve! Finally! What took you so long, man?” The loud, much too cheerful voice of Dustin Henderson comes over the receiver instead of the telemarketer he was hoping for, and Steve groans and resists the urge to slam his head against the wall.

“Henderson. Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Steve asks, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t himself, though he still knows it’s definitely too early to be out of bed.

“Half past get the hell up, man! Were you still sleeping?” Dustin asks, and Steve can hear faint laughter in the background. Wonderful, he’s got the other kids with him. This was not getting any better.

“Is there a point to this phone call?” he asks. He rests his forehead against the wall. He can already feel a headache coming on.

“We-ll,” Dustin starts, stretching out the vowel, “now that you’re awake, I was thinking maybe you’d want to go with us to the new roller rink by the arcade and Family Video? Check it out, maybe have some fun. Apparently they’re even wheelchair friendly!”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Steve says. Him? Roller skating? Absolutely not. He’s avoided that place like the plague since it had opened two months ago; Robin has asked him who knows how many times to go with her, get greasy food and skate around til they threw it up. Not his style.

“C’mon, Steve! Are you really gonna say no to me?” He can practically imagine the face Dustin is making now, hat off his head and hand running through his hair.

“Yes.” Steve’s bed is calling to him, ready to be slept in until well after noon, when he can get up, order some pizza, and spend the night watching cheesy movies with the volume up much too loud. And maybe… maybe he’d call you, see if you were busy and wanted to join him for bad movies and pizza long gone cold by that point. He hopes you’ll say yes. Even if he just gets to hang out with you as friends, it’s still something, and Steve will take it. For now, anyway.

“Eddie would say yes,” Dustin says, his voice snapping Steve out of thoughts of your laughter at Valley Girl from the last time you two had a movie night at his place.

“Then get him to take you.” Steve crosses his arms, turning around to lean his back against the wall as he squishes the phone’s receiver between his ear and his shoulder. He likes Eddie. They’d been through hell and back, barely making it out alive. But the thought of Eddie showing him up… god, Dustin really knows how to push his buttons. Plus, he’s pretty sure Dustin will continue to call him until Steve relents, and he can’t really say no to Dustin. Not that he’ll give him the satisfaction of admitting that. “…are you at least ready to go if I pick you up now?”

The sound of cheers are all that answer him, and Steve sighs heavily through his nose.

So much for his one day off.

…

So that’s how he ends up at the Hawkins Roller Rink, kids piling out of his car as he grabs Max’s wheelchair from his trunk and helps Lucas get her settled in. All the kids take off ahead of him, laughing and talking much too loudly.

He’s really, really hoping they get bored after like, twenty minutes and ask him to drop them off somewhere that they don’t need a ride home from. Like their own houses. But he sighs, knowing his luck would never be that good, and locks his car before following them inside.

The kids are crowding the front counter, all getting their skates in the right sizes, and making sure the people working behind the counter know Max will be skating in her chair. Steve herds them all over to the nearby benches once they’ve got what they need, waving to the girl behind the counter—Sherry? Carrie? He’s pretty sure they graduated together and maybe he went out with her? He’s not sure, really, but he gives her a smile anyway. She returns it, so that was a good sign.

There are a lot less people than what Steve is expecting for a Saturday morning, but he’s not going to complain. Fewer people that he’ll know and will try to stop him to talk.

Mike, Will, and El crowd on one bench together, pulling their own skates on. Lucas helps Max park her chair next to a second bench, and he sits next to her and Dustin sits next to him. Steve watches the group get ready, talking amongst themselves.

He’s struck, for a moment, at how normal this makes them seem. Like any normal group of high school kids, laughing and chatting and just… existing in their happy little bubble, even if just for a few hours. It causes warmth to spread through his chest, though at the same time, it aches just a little. They deserve more of these moments, and he really, really hopes that when all is said and done, they get them.

“Oh, hey, look who’s here!” Dustin says, and Steve, shakes his head slightly as he sees the young teen has his skates on, and his body is turned to look out onto the rink. He’s pointing from where he’s sitting on the bench out into the crowd of people skating. Steve sighs and pushes Dustin’s hand down, starting to comment on how rude it is to point when he sees who Dustin is gesturing to.

You.

You’re skating around the rink, a large grin on your face as you do a twirl with your hands in the air. You, the person Steve’s been crushing on since, well, much longer than he’d have liked without making any kind of move, but you’re just so… you, that Steve can’t help but admire you from afar, and has been doing so since you walked into Scoops Ahoy about a week after graduating. Sure, he’s known of you for longer than that, but as the Scoops Ahoy visits became more frequent—with Robin picking up very quickly on what was going on—Steve knew he was a goner.

Steve feels his words die on his tongue as a grin spreads over his face at seeing you look so happy and light and just… wow. Steve has never been the best with words, not really, but he really wishes he was to be able to use them for you. You, who he’s been horribly, terribly, deeply infatuated with for much too long without success.

“…to Steve? Still in there, space cadet?”

Steve blinks, and sees Dustin’s hand waving in front of his face. He frowns, pushing the hand away. He sees the way Dustin is grinning at him, and turns to see the other kids exchanging looks and giggles, while Lucas very loudly describes the situation to Max.

“You know you shouldn’t stare at people like that, Steve,” she says, Lucas wheeling her closer while she uses her cane to reach out and smack Steve’s shins. “You’re gonna look like a bigger stalker than you already are.”

“Just so you’re aware, I’m giving you the finger right now,” Steve says, though there’s no real heat to his words. He extends the aforementioned digit and not only directs it at Max, but at Dustin as well. Who gives it right back with both hands, a grin on his face and showing off his braces.

“C’mon, guys, let’s get our skates on and go have fun,” Will says, grabbing Mike’s upper arm with one hand and putting his other hand on El’s shoulder. This calms the rest of the kids down, and they all start moving towards the rink and getting out onto it to skate around to the cheesy disco music coming over the speakers. Max immediately takes off as soon as her wheels hit the rink, and Steve hears Lucas laugh and watches him take off after her.

“This is why Byers is my favourite,” Steve calls out towards the retreating kids, and he laughs as Dustin turns back to look at him, hand on his chest as he looks offended. Steve grins, shooting the kids a thumbs up before he walks over to the food counter. He orders a milkshake and a couple bottles of water—just in case the kids need them, because they’d left their bags in his car—before walking back over to the edge of the rink where the seating was.

Steve settles himself into a nice little booth next to the rink, stretching himself out. He takes a drink of his milkshake—chocolate, because he really needs the boost of sugar to keep himself awake and because he thinks he deserves a treat.

Things are fairly uneventful for the first ten or so minutes, until there’s a bit of a commotion on the rink and it draws Steve’s eyes to Dustin. He nearly crashes into you, and Steve’s on his feet before his brain can catch up. Luckily, you manage to catch and steady the young teen, keeping him upright and skating him close to the nearest wall. Steve leans against the wall from where his seat is, watching as you exchange words with Dustin, throwing your head back to laugh at something he says. He’s too far away to hear what you’re saying, but he’d bet the cash in his wallet that Dustin made some corny comment about being swept off his feet, and you probably told him you were just standing in for Suzie. Steve can’t help the fond feeling in his chest or the smile that takes over his face as he sees how natural it is for you to interact with Dustin, to help the young man.

You’re good with all the kids, really—they enjoy your presence, even if some of them won’t admit it out loud, and he’s glad you’re in their lives, especially with all the crazy shit they’ve dealt with over the last three years. He’s glad you’re in his life, which he’s admitted to Robin too many times to count, even after having to know and deal with him all through middle and high school, and now that he’s pulled his head out of his ass, he’s really happy to have your smile in his life. Well, your everything, but seeing your smile now has him feeling just the tiniest bit giddy.

El and Will stop by where the two of you are standing, more proficient on wheels than most of the other kids, and they move to stand on either side of Dustin and join the conversation. It only lasts a moment, before Mike is also catching up to the group, and you wave as you skate off and leave them to their fun.

Steve watches, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm, as you pass by Lucas and Max. You wave to the pair, and Steve can’t help his own laugh as you laud the redhead on her sick wheels—which he knows she picked the colours for and spent an entire weekend getting Lucas and Will to decorate for her. He can see Max wave you off with one hand, but he catches how her other hand comes up to squeeze Lucas’ own. Your praise means a lot to her, and Max will be preening all afternoon.

“Hey! Steve! Check me out!” Dustin’s loud voice rings clear even over the sound of ABBA blaring over the tinny speakers in the roller rink. Steve looks over, and sees Dustin skating all on his own. His arms are outstretched and he keeps stopping and starting, but he’s smiling, and Steve gives him a thumbs up.

“That’s great! Proud of you buddy, you’re doing so well,” he calls out, and Dustin’s grin just gets bigger. Thankfully Will and Mike are sticking close enough to grab him if things start to go wrong again. El has joined Max and Lucas, and you—

—are skating right up to Steve. Holy shit, you’re skating up to Steve as the song changes from an ABBA tune to something fun and poppy by Madonna (that Steve will never admit to knowing. And dancing to at home when no one is looking). You wave, and he feels his mouth go dry as you stop in front of him. He nearly stumbles back, sitting back down in the booth seat.

“Hi Steve,” you greet him, and Steve takes a big drink of his milkshake as he waves back. He swallows the thick drink, feeling the cold travel up to his forehead. Shit. Of course he’d get a brain freeze now.

“Oh, hi! Hey, didn’t, uh, didn’t know you’d be here,” he says, the words spilling out before he can stop and think. He does his best to smile at you, and thankfully you return it.

“I come here most Saturday mornings.” You play with the sleeves of your shirt, picking at a loose thread. Steve’s eyes look down at your hands, seeing the way your fingers twist around the thread and some fabric, and has to look back up at your face to stop imagining how it would feel to hold them. “Dustin was asking about it the other day when he came by the record store. He seemed really into it, and said he was gonna try and bring everyone with him this weekend and wanted to know when I’d be here. Didn’t mention bringing you, though.”

Those little sneaks. The kids have been taking advice from Robin, he can tell, and he’s a little impressed. He’ll be more impressed when he’s not so annoyed that they’ve scammed him into coming here on his day off because they think they can play matchmaker.

“Why aren’t you skating with the kids?” you ask, and Steve snorts.

“Me? On wheels? That’s not something anyone needs to see,” he tells you, running a hand through his hair. He sees you following his hand, and he brings the hand down to scratch at his nose so your gaze will meet his. He winks, and you roll your eyes, though he catches the way the corners of your lips turn up and corners of your eyes crinkle. “You’re pretty good, though. At skating. Really good, actually.”

“Practice makes perfect. Plus, it’s pretty fun.” You gesture out towards the small crowd of skaters, including Mike trying to do a spin. Steve hopes he trips and falls, but not enough to get hurt. Just enough to cause some laughs and a bruised ego. “You should try it. It’d be really fun, I promise! And we could, uh… skate together? If you want?”

It’s bold, you know, asking him to skate with you when he’s just said he doesn’t do skating. But you’ve always had a soft spot for Steve, which has been blossoming into something more lately… well, for a lot longer than lately, but that wasn’t anything you were going to admit without a lot of alcohol in your system (which Robin and Eddie had taken advantage of one night at a party you’d been dragged to, and the two of them hadn’t let you forget it). But today you were feeling a little bold—Dustin had mentioned Steve watching you skate when you’d helped him avoid a concussion, and even if the young teen was nosing his way into your business, you couldn’t deny how giddy it makes you.

“C’mon, Steve, please?” you ask, leaning forward over the rink wall to get closer to him. Steve swallows, his cheeks heating up. You decide to go with the big guns, tilting your head down to look up at him with a, “For me?” and Steve is a goner. How is he supposed to say no to you? He can’t, and he knows he can’t—and judging by the look on your face, he can tell you’ve figured that out too.

Shit.

He sighs heavily through his nose, hanging his head.

“Lemme at least finish my drink and go get some skates, then,” he says, and turns to walk away so he can smile to himself as you cheer at your victory. He makes his way as slowly as he can to Carlie—or is it Kerry?—at the rental counter as he finishes his drink and throws the cup on the nearest garbage, sliding her a few dollar bills and telling her his shoe size. He walks away with the rented skates, back to the booth with the bottles of water, and changes out of his sneakers and into the skates.

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea, really, and Steve blames you. Not that he could ever really blame you for anything, though, so really, he kind of blames himself. And Dustin. Henderson was gonna be relegated to the backseat for at least a week—no shotgun for sneaks.

This has to be some sort of cosmic payback for making fun of Jonathan for being whipped for Nancy last week. Which he is, everyone knows that, but everyone also knows Steve is beyond whipped for you, too (besides you, though he’s pretty sure you’ve got at least an inkling. And this is proving it).

Steve stands up, feeling his knees shake just the slightest bit as he tries to find balance on the skates he’s finished lacing up on his feet. He takes his time moving over to the entrance to the rink, where you’re standing and waiting for him. He gets himself out onto the slick wooden surface, and starts moving forward—keeping himself as close to the wall as he can without grabbing it. You are skating next to him, after all, and even though he’s sure you won’t care—which you won’t—he still has to preserve some of his dignity.

“You’re definitely not that bad at skating yourself, Steve,” you say, slowing your pace to match his. You smile at him, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt again.

“Not as good as you, though,” he says as he grits his teeth. You make it look so easy, and he could watch you do this all day. Really wishing he could be back sitting at the booth watching from a distance. Him and roller skates? Not a match made in heaven. Though maybe his head and the floor will be before this is over.

“Well… maybe spending some more time here might help,” you mention. You catch Steve’s eyes, and while you try to seem nonchalant about it, your fingers are twisting in the fabric of your shirt before you shove them into the pockets of your jeans. “I’m usually here most Saturdays, and sometimes I come during the week. If you ever wanted to skate together, just us. If that’s something you want.”

Steve nearly trips over his own feet, though you’re quick to reach out and grab his hand in your own to steady him. Were you… you weren’t. You couldn’t be asking him out. Steve doesn’t think that could be possible. For one, he’s not entirely sure your feelings for him aren’t platonic, as much as he wishes they were romantic, and for another… you’re asking him as just friends. Even though he’d love to be more than that, really.

He straightens up, and then he realizes… you’re still holding his hand. Even after he’s gotten his balance back, your hand is holding onto his and wow, yeah, it’s warm and fits so nicely in his. He looks down at where your hands are held together, and then he looks up to your face and—oh. Oh. You’re smiling at him, chewing on your bottom lip as Cyndi Lauper starts echoing over the roller rink speakers, and your hand is still holding onto his.

“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that this sounds like you’re actually flirting with me,” he says, a little out of breath. He had to have accidentally hit his head again. He bites his lip, seeing if it’ll help bring him back to reality, but all it does is give him a little bit of blood in his mouth.

“...I’ve been trying to do that for about a year now.” Your words aren’t unkind, more nervous than anything, and Steve knows he probably looks like a total dingus as he grins and starts laughing.

He’s not laughing at you, definitely not. But at himself? Oh, most definitely. Because he’s had a crush on you for just as long, if not longer, and he can’t believe he hasn’t noticed you flirting with him before. He can’t believe you have to spell it out for him—and definitely, absolutely, cannot believe you admitted to flirting with him for real. To being interested in him, Steve Harrington, of all people. But your hand is still holding his, keeping him grounded in reality, and he’s suddenly very, very glad for the little shits who pulled him out of bed this morning.

Steve’s laughter dies down, and he ventures a look at your face. “I’m an idiot, huh?” he asks, wheezing slightly as he intertwines your fingers with his own.

“You’ve never been an idiot, Steve. Just need a little nudge sometimes,” you assure him, tugging him forward a little so you can start skating again. He gladly complies, feeling almost lighter than air as the two of you move around the rink.

“Still not sure about this whole skating thing, but… yeah, I’d love to spend some time together, just us. As more than friends,” he asserts, and delights in the sound of your laughter as it echoes in his ears. He’d dance to that music every day if you’d let him, and god, he hopes you’ll let him.

“If you’re free next Friday, it’s Couples’ Night. No kids allowed,” you mention, the two of you skating around the bend in the rink.

And then, just as he’s about to answer, maybe flirt a little more openly now, Steve feels something slam into his back that sends him ass over tea kettle. Unfortunately, he takes you down with him, and he lets out an undignified squawk as the two of you tumble to the ground. As he’s laying flat out on the rink floor, as soon as his eyes start to focus he sees a baseball hat about a foot away, and hears laughter from behind him.

“Henderson!”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stevie

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gwydionmisha · 10 months

Text

Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain. My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday. My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday. The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity. It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles. It also adds to the tired. So much to the tired. Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow. I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage. I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose. They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice. Three of those are hard and thorough workers. One of those will not wear her mask. I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come. (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas. I respect cleaners. I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years. I trust them to know what they are doing. This has been the case in three instances. Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go? Where is (whatever) kept? What should i do next? I refuse to micro manage. In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job. I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed. This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite. I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state. Weed's been legal here for ages. People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed. I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do. A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is. She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high. She was barely coherent high. She drove here. O.o. She drove home. This terrifies me. after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible. (It had to be vape or edible. I would have smelled smoke. Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here. Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach. I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling. Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it. I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity. I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible. 2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching. On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out. She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time. She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned. My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in. She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed. Which can be fine. I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine. She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others. I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him. Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up. I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.

Tavy was noticeably wary of her. He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her. (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look. He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs). He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough. This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges. I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly. She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made! I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping. So I told her to sweep first, which she did. I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky. (The tub is the most expensive thing I own. A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it. I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it. There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.) I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink. I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating. I should have done it anyway, because this is So. Much. Worse.

She used a ton of water. Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket. It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed. So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture. Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people. I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions. And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry. There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was. *head desk* My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink. Like a TON of Ajax. The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints. I couldn't leave it like that. I cleaned the sink. I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty. ��I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are. I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much. I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms. I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do. I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again. It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile. Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens. I can and will catch anything you expose me too. Anything. I also have a dicey digestive system. Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off. yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time. “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher. The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away. I will run the washer after you leave.” Did she do that? No. Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative? No. They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left. We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow. I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday. I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet. I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person. I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment. I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

#WTF?!?#Asshole Agency

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that-one-hom0 · 1 year

Note

Hiii I’m back I have nothing to do and I have more head cannons about Robin just him today that are silly and goofy and how has your day been!

1. So this mf I think as a kid like his uncle was fooling around with him and he literally had a sip of like his beer or something and he did and he spit it out and started crying

2. Has accidentally broken his own door twice in a row

3.Soo I saw the thing that you said about his mom working late and I do agree with that I think sometimes like him and her like she’s passed out and he kinda cooks for her like he tries his best OK and he leaves her little notes when she wakes up at night time to go to work

4. he for some reason just doesn’t like fucking cats I don’t know why but he just doesn’t

5. The reason why he fell on his motorcycle once because he was being a dumbass and he was fooling around and he fell Street on his fucking face like straight on his face

6. he makes funny like little cards and little like thingies to show how he loves him because he doesn’t know how to say the words

7. He was diagnosed with ADHD at a very young age he has to go to some classes and when he people ask him about it he’ll like threaten them and shit he just doesn’t like talking about his ADHD(me to I have ADHD)

i’m sorry this is kind of short I’m really tired and I’ve been doing a lot of schoolwork and stuff but I hope you have a good/night day

hi my days been good!

1: he naver has and never be a beer guy, he hates the taste

2: yea him and his mom came to an aggreement on just having like a curtain

3: robin loves his mom so he will do chores and housework for her

4: i strongly disaagree he loves cats and has one of his own

5: he has the balence of a new born baby

6: his love language is gift giving. prove me otherwise

7: i think makes him feel dumb so its touchy the only one who can bribg it up is finney

#the black phone

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bixxelated · 8 months

Text

First Meetings

(fic on archiveofourown)

st ladies appreciation week day three prompt: favorite underrated dynamic

i know tecnically this is cheating a little bit because it's not a canon dynamic. but you can't tell me it wouldnt be awesome for these two badass ladies to meet.

this isnt in the same continuity as moonlight/sunlight series, but i dont think it falls under canon either so…? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

--o--

From what El had told them before, Kali Prasad didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared about appearances. Her sense of fashion seemed to lean towards quite the opposite, considering the dark, rebellious look El had sported after meeting her (and insisted on wearing for many months after her return to Hawkins, to Hop’s despair). And considering her lifestyle, she probably didn’t blink twice at doing things that would have made people like say, Karen Wheeler’s book club go white as a sheet.

Still, that doesn’t change the fact that Joyce would have liked to meet Kali under much better circumstances. Preferably not in an apocalyptic Hawkins overrun by Upside Down monsters. Definitely not dirty, exhausted, and bound to a pole by a bunch of military assholes.

Assholes who should be focusing on helping them eliminate the root cause of said apocalypse, instead of doing everything in their power to undermine Joyce and everyone’s attempts to fix this. Joyce is so tired of getting yelled at by angry soldiers with guns.

They don’t have much time. From what she can hear in the camp, it seems like they’ve managed to find where Hopper and the others, including many of the kids, are hunkering down, and they’re planning to spring an ambush. Worse still, there’s talk of shipping Kali off to some other facility outside of Hawkins, in the hopes of breaking her into becoming their attack dog if they’re able to get her under their control.

From the stories El has told her about Kali, Joyce doesn’t think they’ll be able to, but she hates to think of the alternative. It burns almost as much as if they had been talking about her own daughter.

“You’re Kali, right?” Joyce whispers while the soldiers are distracted with packing up camp. “The one who can do illusions?”

There’s a confused pause. “That’s right.” Kali eventually confirms.

Joyce takes a deep breath, working on the ropes with the knife she’d had the foresight to keep in her boot. “I have an idea for escape, but I’m going to need your help.”

“Ah.” Kali shifts in place. “Well, I’d be happy to, but as you can see I’m a bit indisposed at the moment.”

Well, that’s true. It’s clear they took the trouble to not underestimate Kali. Unlike Joyce, they’ve handcuffed her, and blindfolded her as well. In very different circumstances she might’ve thought it clever, the way they were able to prevent her from using her powers against them, but it’s just one more complication for escaping. Can’t use your illusions if you don’t know what it is you’re seeing, after all.

“Right.” Joyce feels the ropes give away. The skin on her hand burns slightly from where she nicked herself a bit, but it gives her an idea. They’re going to need a clean escape if they want to get to Hopper in time. She reaches out, and as slowly as possible, partially lifts Kali’s blindfold. Just enough so that it looks like she’s still blinded from a distance. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m going to get us out of here.”

Kali blinks at her from the edges of her vision. “What are you planning?”

“A way out, if everything goes right.” Joyce says, and slowly shifts back into place with her hands behind her back. It doesn’t look like anyone saw her. Good. “Can you make it so it looks like I’m still tied to the post?”

Kali side-eyes her, trying to get a good enough look to replicate her. “It might not be very accurate.” She warns.

“That’s fine. I just need them not to notice for five minutes.”

Kali’s mouth quirks up. “I can more than manage that.”

Joyce nods and ducks down behind the closest row of boxes and barrels all lying around. She rolls up her sleeve and braces herself. The knife hurts a lot more when Joyce carefully slices a thin line on the outside of her forearm, but it gets the job done. She creeps all over camp and uses her hand to smear her blood all over the containers, careful to not let herself get seen. She moves quickly and quietly, heart beating hummingbird fast in her throat, until she finds what she’s looking for—the keys to Kali’s cuffs.

It’s just in time, too.

“Hey, what are you up to?” She hears from a distance, and sucks in a startled breath, but is quickly distracted by the terrifying roar that suddenly cuts through the air. Clearly the rest of the camp is distracted by it too, quickly growing quiet.

The roaring grows louder and louder. More shrieking starts to join them.

Joyce peeks over a barrel and sees a dumbstruck soldier lift his gun into the air. But he has no chance to shoot before large talons swoop over and rip him away from the ground.

Then it’s chaos.

At once an endless number of Upside Down creatures start swooping in on the camp, drawn by the scent of blood everywhere. Joyce quickly ducks back down behind the barrel for safety. She cuts some plaid fabric off from her own shirt and wraps it tightly around her forearm, hoping to make herself less of a smelly target with the monsters quickly overrunning the camp.

From there it's a mad sprint over to Kali, to undo her handcuffs, and then over to the military vans as well. There’s no one who’s open to stop them. The few idiots who try are quickly snatched up into the air.

They quickly find a van with the door open and the keys still in place. Whatever unlucky driver it had before must have been caught by a monster as well.

“Drive, drive!” Kali yells at her, and Joyce hits the gas pedal. They tear off through camp, swerving in between panicked soldiers before they reach the metal gates. Joyce doesn’t hesitate, crashing through it even if it means that they leave it open for more earthbound monsters to pour it. Somehow, Joyce can’t find it in herself to feel sorry for the soldiers they left behind.

“Wooo!” Kali cheers, banging on the dashboard as they pull onto the road. “That was amazing! How did you do all of that?”

“Ah, well.” Joyce blushes in embarrassment. “Tricks of the trade, I suppose. You pick things up when you’ve been fighting literal bloodthirsty monsters for years.”

“It was pretty bitchin’, I’ll give you that.” Kali smirks, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. “I owe you one, lady.”

“Not at all. You’re Jane’s sister,” Joyce says, which makes Kali’s eyes go wide. “Which means you’re family. I could never forgive myself if I left you to those assholes.”

“You know Jane?”

“I’m her mother.” Joyce smiles. “Joyce Hopper, nice to meet you. She’s told me a lot about you.”

#stladies #stladiesweek #stranger things #kali prasad #blogger writes fic

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lifeundertheplumbob · 1 year

Text

1;1; Item 10

Nicole doesn’t realise that her brief affair made her miss her carpool with Marcelin Dufour. She mustn’t have heard his beeping. Annoying. Vasco Federici calls her and tells her not to miss work again. Nicole mumbles an apology and goes back to vomit in the sink again.

Soon enough Richard arrives home. He spent quite a while doing that skateboard stunt. He explains there is no way anyone on the internet can doubt him now. He asks if work got called off, and Nicole wordlessly nods. Better he not know. He’s happy to see the monitor back in working order. He needs that for his job! He doesn’t ask how it was repaired, for which Nicole is very grateful. She has no words for him that night.

Nicole asks for him to make dinner as usual, and as usual he heats up one of the pre-mades he has brought home. The wrapper is discarded on the floor. More mess for her to clean up. She eyes him all night and hopes not to have to answer a single question. He never asks anything. That night he attempts to have sex with her. She very firmly keeps it above the waist.

The next morning Nicole is still a bundle of stress.

‘What’s the matter, pet?’ Richard asks.

‘Oh oh oh, just life in general,’ Nicole managers to stutter. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay.’

The question was a perfect opportunity to bring up his slobbishness and disrespect for her property, but she still feels guilty as sin. There is no communication or progress. He leaves with Eli to do a stunt involving train tracks. Nicole asks him not to explain it to her.

Nicole spend much of that day fussing. She showers for far too long, with obnoxiously high water bills, but she feels so filthy. She eats too much, with obnoxiously high grocery bills, but she feels so empty.

She feels tired. She tossed and turned all night. She trembles with stress. Richard’s messes are also making her unable to move about her own home comfortably. She’s already showered; she can’t clean it up now.

It’s nearly time to go to work; Marcelin Dufour will be arriving shortly. Nicole heads to her room to get changed for work, but discovers a huge swarm of cockroaches fleeing from the mess. “It’s not like there’s cockroaches” Richard had said. Now there are. Her trembling gets worse. She can barely stand on her feet.

Nicole collapses completely. Pain grips her in the stomach, and she loses consciousness. Dufour beeps his horn but doesn’t bother coming in and looking for her. Hours pass. Cockroaches crawl about her body. Her body evacuates itself, leaving Nicole in a puddle of her own urine.

Richard finds her when he comes home. He isn’t sure what to do. She’s still breathing. He pulls her out of the puddle in the shower, cleans her up and carries her to bed. She doesn’t look very well, but is also very beautiful sleeping. He makes a note to ask her about experimenting in somnophilia, and stays up to make sure she keeps breathing. Calling an ambulance never occurs to him.

Nicole wakes up in the morning, with a terrible headache but otherwise seemingly okay. The idea of just lying there, barely clothed, in front of an unlocked door forces her to lie down again. Richard needs to head out with Eli, not to do stunts but to do proper business discussions about their income, but urges Nicole to call him if she feels like she’s going to relapse.

Nicole is grateful to Richard, at first. He hasn’t cleaned anything up though, not even Nicole puddle of urine, forcing her to spend her morning cleaning up. She feels a bit better though, if only because everything has taken her mind off of Bruno.

The phone rings. It’s Vasco Federici.

‘Where were you yesterday?’ he says. ‘You didn’t answer my call. You’ve missed work twice in a row. This is a high paced job, if you can’t make it, don’t bother coming back.’

‘I was ill!’ Nicole protests. ‘I fainted and lying on my floor for hours! Nobody came to see if I was okay!’

‘Well then, if you have medical conditions you’re also not reliable for the job. There’ll be no need for you at the circus anymore.’

So that was that. Nicole had been fired. She doesn’t feel like collapsing again, but she lies down anyway. She just feels empty.

Now she was completely reliant on Richard’s income until she found something else. Could she find something else? Or will word of her unreliability spread amongst employers?

#the sims #part 1 #act 1 #nicole stauss #richard moon

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi!! i know i have been pretty consistent about updating this fic every other day but i’m starting a new job in addition to school so the updates may be a little bit slower. my apologies!!

Masterlist

Chapter 18

Emily was the first to clock it. She whispered to Derek who told Penelope and then it was game over. Everyone knew about the mysterious ring that appeared on Spencer’s finger over Christmas break.

Spencer was in the break room, refilling his coffee mug, when they began to discuss theories.

“You think they got engaged and married in the week we didn’t see him?” Rossi asked.

“If they did, I’m going to kill him for not telling us let alone be there,” Penelope huffed, stomping her high heel.

“But the ring isn’t on his ring finger,” JJ pointed out.

“Maybe the kid doesn’t know,” Derek offered.

“You think a genius doesn’t know which finger a wedding ring goes on?” Hotch asked, amused.

It was clear it was big news because even Hotch and Rossi had come out of their offices when Reid got up from his chair.

Spencer walked back into the bullpen, stopping when he noticed everyone’s eyes on him.

“Do we have a case?” Spencer asked.

“What’s with the ring on your finger, Boy Wonder?” Penelope questioned.

“Oh um that,” Spencer looked down at his hand wrapped around his mug, “Y/N and I have matching ones.”

He thought that cleared everything up so he continued to walk over to his desk. Once he was seated, he looked up to see everyone still staring at him.

“Did you elope?” Emily asked.

“No. This is on my index finger, not my ring finger,” he held up his hand, “The wedding ring is traditionally placed on the ring finger because it was believed that the finger had a vein that connected directly to the heart but that’s actually untrue.”

“So why the rings?” Rossi chimed in.

“I don’t know. I just really love her and I wanted to have something connecting us whenever we’re apart,” Spencer shrugged.

He blushed at the sounds of the team ‘awww’ing and ‘ooh’ing.

“Also I guess since everyone needs to know everything about my personal life, Hotch already knows but I’ll be out next week. Jo, Y/N, and I are going to Disneyworld,” Spencer smiled.

“Oh Henry loved it when we went but you’re going to be dead on your feet at the end of each day,” JJ said.

Jo was most excited for Animal Kingdom so that was the park you were starting off with.

You all waited in line for the safari ride. Spencer was adamant about all the germs festering at amusement parks so he had a backpack full of hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes, and other essentials. He was carrying Jo on his shoulders and holding your hand.

Once you loaded into the safari vehicle, the tour guide introduced himself and the ride began.

Jo looked at the huge elephants grazing in amazement.

“Elephants live in groups called herds made up of only females. The matriarch is the oldest female in the herd and she is usually in charge,” Spencer whispered to you both.

The tour guide was spewing off facts about the animals as well but I think it was safe to say you and Jo preferred your own personal genius.

Zebras were drinking from the watering hole as you passed by.

“A group of zebras is called a dazzle and their stripes act as a way to cool themselves as well as avoid bug bites,” Spencer stated.

Next was the Expedition Everest roller coaster. Jo barely made the height requirement, cheering when the ride operator gave her the all clear after bringing out the measuring stick.

Immediately after finishing the ride, Jo demanded you ride it again. She was definitely a thrill seeker, alright.

After you took a lunch break of chicken tenders and fries, Spencer insisted everyone wash their hands twice and reapply sunscreen. It was nice to have someone even more responsible than you.

Then, you caught the Lion King Festival stage show to take a break from walking for a bit. It seemed fitting since one of your first memories as a family is singing along to that movie.

Jo seemed to be enjoying it but you and Spencer were trying your best to not doze off. The show was interesting enough, there were animatronics of the characters and acrobats and dancers but you and Spencer were both just so tired after running around to keep up with Jo all day.

Jo tapped Spencer awake after the show ended and the audience was clearing out.

“Daddy, dinosaurs!” she reminded him.

Your final ride of the day would be the dinosaur ride where it simulates traveling back in time.

The three of you got buckled up in the front row of the ride. It started out peaceful and Jo was watching the animatronic dinosaurs in awe.

However, things quickly went south. The ride was designed to seem like it was going out of control. The flashing lights, fake smoke, and hissing big dinosaurs soon began to overwhelm Jo. She curled up in a ball in between you both.

You were bent over, whispering reassurances into her ear that it was all just pretend and she would be okay. Spencer was stroking her hair and holding her hand.

Jo exited the ride with her face in Spencer’s shoulder.

“Jo, did you know that stegosauruses were herbivores? That means they only eat plants. In fact, the majority of dinosaurs were herbivores,” he softly spoke.

You really hoped this ride hadn’t squashed her love of dinosaurs. Maybe she just prefers to admire them from afar.

On the last day of your vacation, you were standing in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle at the Magic Kingdom Park. Jo seemed to have recovered from the dinosaur incident and was sporting her dinosaur converse today.

The fireworks you were waiting for soon began. It was the perfect way to end your last night.

“Woah,” you exclaimed after a particularly pretty firework burst into red streams in the air before fizzling out.

Jo was on your hip and Spencer was behind you with his arms wrapped around you both.

“I love you,” you looked to the side where he was leaning his head against your shoulder.

His side profile and perfect jawline were being illuminated by the colorful flashes of light in the sky.

“I love you too,” he turned to meet your eyes with a grin, kissing you.

The whole team was gathered around Penelope’s computer, looking at the email that Spencer had sent out to the entire team.

Subject: Having Fun

We are headed back tonight. JJ was right about being dead on your feet. I have to get my two sleepy girls to the airport somehow. Hope all is well with you guys.

-Spencer Reid

Attachment: 3 Images

The images consisted of a photo of the three of you in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle, Jo high-fiving a person dressed up in a Mickey Mouse costume, and a picture of Jo and you cuddled up on the bed of your hotel room.

“I didn’t even know Reid knew how to attach photos to emails,” Penelope stated out loud.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Reid willingly send an email,” Emily smiled.

In typical Penelope fashion, she printed the photos Spencer had sent and put them into a collage frame and displayed it prominently on his desk for him to find upon his return.

Spencer’s desk had changed drastically over the past few months. A once well-organized desk lacking a personality other than the piles of books now had a random assortment of photos, Jo’s drawings, and sticky notes marking up his calendar for important family events.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

kiss the girl: ch 4

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 2 extra (ft. marius) | ch 3 | ch 4

***

Ask her out to dinner.

Artem Wing rarely gets stressed. Even when he has a trial the next day and it’s before the highest appellate court, he’s the definition of ‘calm’.

But right now, he’s freaking out.

It’s not that he doesn’t know how to ask a woman out to dinner. Of course he’s had dinner with her before—and they weren’t always team dinners.

The procedure is simple enough. Step one, ask her if she’s free that night. Or any night, for that matter. Step two, ask if she would like to have dinner with him. It’s an easy two-step process that anyone can accomplish.

Except, Artem didn’t factor in a possible third step: what to do when she is “suddenly unable to make it for dinner” with him not once, not twice, but three times in a row.

The first time it happened, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so he insisted that she leave the office early to get some rest, and cancelled their dinner plans for the evening.

The second time it happened, she said she had forgotten about a family dinner that clashed with their dinner plans. Artem had assured her that they could call a rain check, and that she should attend the family dinner to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday.

By the third time, Artem thought things would finally go his way. But alas, she was hauled away by none other than his NXX colleague, Vyn, who needed her assistance urgently with some pick-up artist case. He had offered to go with her, but she insisted that she could handle the case herself. And so, he had no choice but to leave her be, lest she thought that he didn’t have faith in her abilities.

All things considered, Artem is disheartened, to say the least. Having their dinner plans cancelled three times in a row can’t be a coincidence—maybe she just doesn’t want to have dinner with him, but is too scared of him to admit it outright. And it’s probably because he’s her boss, which is a position that he’s rapidly growing to hate. He wishes they could just be normal colleagues. Maybe then he won’t feel so awkward every time he wants to make a move but doesn’t want to come across as pressuring her inappropriately.

Then again, if they were normal colleagues, they probably wouldn’t work as closely as they do now… so Artem is torn on the issue. But that’s beside the point.

The point is, he doesn’t know what to do. Celestine would say that he should just try again, which he could do, but he should probably wait for a while before asking her again. As for how long he should wait, he’s not sure. But he was looking forward to dinner so much that the disappointment has been weighing him down for the past few days.

Deciding he needs some air to clear his head, Artem gets out of his office, intending to get some coffee from the pantry. As Celestine has reminded him many times, he has a working coffee machine in his office. His reply every time is that the capsules that he wants are in the pantry… and he just so happens to forget to take some to his office with every trip he makes.

Out of habit, Artem takes his phone to clear some notifications that have been accumulating since morning. And as he busies himself with replying to client messages and reading some new messages in the NXX chat, he overhears Kiki asking her if she wants to have dinner together. It’s a Friday night, and it’s already five minutes past the time everyone can knock off.

Her response, however, is noticeably sullen compared to her usual cheeriness. “I think I’ll be staying late tonight… I have two sets of written submissions to finish by Monday and I’ve barely started.”

It doesn’t take long for Artem to recall that those were the subs he had assigned to her at the start of the week. They’re due Monday… The other partners might have given her some work to do during the week, which is why she’s running tight on schedule.

He would ask if she wants him to assign one set to someone else to lighten her load, but Artem already knows from experience that she won’t have that. In fact, she’ll interpret it as him thinking she’s not competent enough to finish the work she’d been given and probably get upset—both with him and with herself.

“Then, aren’t you going to eat?” Kiki presses.

“I’ll eat later; I’m not hungry right now. Don’t worry about me, you should go ahead first. See you Monday!”

As Artem slowly returns to his office with a cup of coffee in hand and pretending to be engrossed in fiddling with his phone, he wonders if maybe there is a way to have dinner with her after all.

***

You’re stressed. The looming deadline of the coming Monday and the five cups of coffee you’ve had since morning are contributing to your high-strung nerves, and your hyper-active fingers as you furiously type away at the keyboard. Hopefully you can finish one sub tonight, and then you can do the other one over the weekend at home.

You’re so caught up in research and figuring out how to condense the facts of the extremely complicated facts of this darn case into a neat, concise summary, that you don’t realise that someone has been standing behind you for a while until he clears his throat and calls your name.

With a start, you jerk your head over your shoulder, not expecting anyone else to be in the office at this time—oh, it’s almost 8pm already—on a Friday night.

But here Artem is, holding up a few plastic bags and wearing a smile that isn’t helpful for your already wired heart. Didn’t he already leave the office for the day? And—how long has he been staring at your screen? Has he been watching you struggle over writing a summary of the facts?

He must think you’re an idiot now.

If he does though, he doesn’t show any sign of it. “You haven’t had dinner, right?” is all he asks.

“Dinner?” You take a few seconds to recall whether you’ve eaten or not, and then shake your head with a sheepish smile. “Right. I forgot.”

“I bought some sushi. You’ll focus better if you’re not hungry.”

You glance back at your screen, and even though you’d rather continue working, you reluctantly agree. Maybe you’ll be able to write this better after a short break.

“You’re right. Thanks.” You stand up, removing your glasses and rubbing your tired eyes. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. I was thinking of eating with you… if you don’t mind.”

You can’t help but smile. You’ve had to cancel dinner plans with Artem three times now, and you had thought he would be offended or take it as a rejection in some way. You had actually been planning on asking him out to dinner next week, after clearing all your urgent tasks, to make up for everything. But here he is, offering dinner for the fourth time, accommodating your schedule and even buying sushi from your favorite sushi place. How did he even know?

“Of course I don’t mind! I just thought you’d want to eat with someone else on a Friday night, instead of eating take-out in the office.”

“I’d say eating dinner with you isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

Lawyers and their double-negatives. Now you can’t tell if this counts as Artem flirting with you. Not sure how else to respond, you settle for a generic “thank you” before taking one of the bags from him so that he isn’t carrying everything alone. “Let’s set it up in the pantry.”

He nods, allowing you to take the lead and following behind you towards the pantry. You hear the rustle of the plastic bags, his footsteps, and a small but thrilled "yes” that he whispers under his breath. It’s so low and soft that you almost mistake it for the sound of the plastic bags swinging by your side.

You should probably pretend you didn’t hear that, but still, you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you. The effort that he’s been putting in for the past few weeks hasn’t escaped your notice at all. And considering how much Artem has been looking out for you lately, maybe it’s time to start thinking about what you can do for Artem too.

***

A/N: Thanks for all the support guys, i've been blown away by the encouraging comments and i'm so glad to know that you enjoy this story :)

#tears of themis #artem wing #artem fanfiction #tears of themis fanfiction #artem wing fanfiction #my writing #kiss the girl

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niennanir · 3 years

Text

I’m still at least a hundred yards across the crowded parking lot from my car when I hear the telltale shrieking. The sound of a special needs child having a meltdown. By about 75 yards I’ve already started chanting under my breath ‘not by my car not by my car not by my car’

At 30 yards I can tell clearly that it’s right beside my car.

I don’t have a problem with special needs kids having a meltdown, I don’t even find it particularly distressing. I have enough childhood trauma of my own that I figure if you’re seven and your day is going badly enough that you’re screaming yourself hoarse out front of the market then I’ve got no room to judge. I’ve done things probably twice that crazy.

My problem is that I can’t keep my abnormally large nose out of things that are not my business and in my experience one of two things is about to happen. The first of these things is that the parent of the child currently making sounds like a live amplifier being dropped into a wood chipper is potentially about four seconds from bursting into tears. I angle myself so I’m in the direct line of sight of a father, white male, mid 30′s, and the screeching seven year old, male, obviously not white.

Being approached by another white male with an annoyed look on his face. Oh, goody, scenario two it is then.

I change directions immediately, loop around the next row of cars and come up to lean on the driver’s side door of my blue Ray-4. I’ve blocked in the screaming seven year old while his dad is being read the riot act by Mr Annoyed. The kid is still screaming but he’s now watching me like I might be a kidnapper, or maybe Thanos, who knows. Maybe he’s just angry I’ve cut off his escape route, it’s hard to say. I give him my best conspiratorial grin and lock eyes on Mr. Annoyed.

It doesn’t bear repeating what Mr. Annoyed is spewing, suffice it to say there’s an implication that Dad is trying to kidnap a kid that obviously isn’t his, followed by some assertions that Dad is just a bad parent. To Dad’s credit he manages to keep his voice calm even if anger and defensiveness is rolling off of him in waves. It doesn’t take Mr. Annoyed too long to see that I’m watching though.

I’m told that I have Resting Death Face. It’s like Resting Bitch Face but instead of looking like I’m about to say something mean and nasty I apparently look like I’m going to slowly slice you into tiny pieces and enjoy your screams of agony. Mr Annoyed meets my eye and I deliberately let the smile I’d given the kid slide off my face. The Kid abruptly reduces the volume of his screaming by about 80%. Mr. Annoyed inexplicably seems to forget what he was saying, turns on his heel and stomps into the store.

Dad seems really confused as to why he isn’t being punched in the face in a grocery store parking lot. I put my smile back on as I see him turn and the second he notices me I can see him brace for impact.

“This is my car,” I say, cheerfully, unlocking the door to prove my point. “But I don’t feel good about pulling out while you’re in the middle of a crisis, so you just take your time. I’ve got nowhere to be at the moment.” Dad cycles through about 150 different emotional states in three seconds.

“Thank you,” he settles on. Probably because that’s easiest.

“I’ve got prior,” I admit. Instantly Dad’s shoulders ease.

“Why were you talking to him?” The kid demands, he’s still obviously angry and upset but he’s no longer doing an impression of Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

“You’re making a lot of noise and it upsets people,” Dad replies, almost completely patiently.

The kid points at me. “Well why are you talking to her!”

Well done, Nienna, I think to myself. Nose where it doesn’t belong again.

“Because that’s her car and she can’t leave while you’re lying on the pavement,” Dad replies. The kid makes a face like he’s genuinely surprised to find he’s laying on the pavement. He kicks the tire, probably to emphasize that he’s still angry.

“Well I don’t like him,” The Kid declares forcefully “And I don’t like her!” I am honestly struggling to keep from laughing outright at this point. I have no idea how Dad is hanging onto calm and stern by his fingernails. I take a few moments to contemplate if not having kids myself was actually a good plan. I like this kid a lot and I hope I meet him again as an adult because this is exactly the sort of ‘I take no crap’ human I approve of.

“If you want her to leave we’ll have to either go in the store and find mom or we’ll have to get in the car and put on your music,” Dad says. And the poor guy looks like he might be on the verge of scenario one. “Which do you want to do?”

That was a mistake, I think to myself. Because I’m 100% sure neither of these two is ready to be in the cookie isle right now. For once in my life I hold my tongue.

“Which one?” Dad repeats when it starts to look like it might be option three: start screaming again. “The car is nice and cool. Your juice box is in here.”

Its probably another five minutes of fretting before the Kid is back in his booster seat with his juice box listening to some bubblegum pop I’ve never heard before. Dad closes the back door.

“Thank you” he says again. He doesn’t look like he might burst into tears any more so I count it a win.

“You’re not doing too bad,” I say.

“That's not what the other guy said,” Dad replies bitterly.

“Well, don’t take advice from guys who have never dealt with a special needs child and you’ll probably be okay,” I point out. Dad’s laugh is a little watery but he smiles as we both get in our cars.

People wonder sometimes how anyone sends a foster kid back to a group home, as if they’re monsters, as if they’re selfish. As if they haven’t been threatened or degraded in parking lots and malls and parks and been told repeatedly that they’re not doing good enough, that they’re a failure. That a child with serious trauma isn’t adjusting because of them. It’s almost never the parents who aren’t dealing well with the situation, it’s everyone else around them. Maybe that’s why I can never keep my nose out of other peoples business, somebody’s already beat me to it and they’re not helping.

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Ten

chapter nine - Chapter Ten: Heroes - chapter eleven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky make one final effort to stop the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: spoilers for episode.6, violence, character death (major), wounds, blood, ANGST ANGST ANGST, Bucky and Y/n are a badass couple, Sam and Y/n are a badass sibling duo, everybody’s a badass, inaccurate medical care (unless you consider google legit then it’s for real lol)

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: GUYS. SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER. HOW DID WE GET HERE?!?! This one was challenging to write because I wanted to still make it mainly focus on Sam and not detract from his story while incorporating another one, hopefully I did it justice. Smaller amount of Bucky Y/n fluff purely because of plot. Imma shut up now and let you guys judge it for yourselves, hopefully you enjoy ☺️

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I’d always wanted to visit New York, I just never thought that the circumstances in which I’d come would be so dire.

Surprisingly, flying from Delacroix to the city hadn’t been as draining as I’d thought, the adrenaline rushing through me was enough to keep my stamina up. Once I got into the state I shot up higher, the only way to pinpoint the city’s location was by sight alone. The mass of flashing red, white and blue lights served as a literal guiding light and I followed it till my feet made contact with the ground. I landed in between two buildings, a safe distance away from the commotion but close enough that I could intervene if needed. Sam had told me to go ahead of him and meet up with Bucky, the two of us would be on the ground while Sam took care of business with the senators. “Something’s different…” the voice I’d gone days without hearing announced from behind me, “New haircut?” I smirked and turned to face Bucky, “Do you get bulletproof suits for all the girls that catch your eye?” “Only the ones I really like,” he smiled, cradling my cheek in his hand and giving me an overdue kiss before pulling back to admire the suit, “Looks good on you.” The suit that Bucky had the Wakandans design for me was made almost entirely of Vibranium. It was sapphire blue, the same color of my energy with accent lines of silver running through it to define the shape. It clung tight to my body without showing off too much, the v neckline ended just below my collarbone. Hidden behind Bucky’s note in the case had also been a note from Shuri, the princess of Wakanda, listing that the suit was bullet proof and should I choose to channel my energy through a specific part of my body, the Vibranium would absorb and redistribute it to amplify my strike. The whole ensemble made me feel an official member of whatever club I’d decided to join.

I opened my fingerless glove adorned palm out to Bucky, offering him one of the comms Sam had given me and placing the other in my ear. “Ready?” he asked.

For once, I could answer feeling fully confidant in my capabilities. I reached out and squeezed Bucky’s hand, giving a single nod, “Ready.”

The two of us made our way out from between the buildings and headed into the heart of the chaos. There were news crews, police officers, soldiers and SWAT teams while innocent bystanders quickly fled the scene.

“Sam, where you at?” I said into my comm.

“I’m almost there,” he replied.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked from beside me.

“Karli’s gotta be close, keep your eyes open.” “Well, it could be anybody…” Bucky said quietly as we passed by a group of officers.

We headed for the building in which the senators were being held, the SWAT team immediately parting to allow Sergeant Barnes and myself to enter. Whether or not he was paying attention to anything other than finding Karli, I wasn’t sure, but I smiled internally at the fact that they’d recognized him for what he should have been recognized for all this time.

“Oh, we also called in some backup,” I relayed to Bucky.

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” we turned to see a man in a beanie following us, “Are you supposed to be here?” Bucky looked stunned and slightly concerned while I stayed calm, recognizing the signal. Immediately, Sharon ripped off the technologically advanced mask that concealed her identity. “It’s me.” “Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

I gestured to the woman, “Backing us up…” “Relax, no one’s looking for me here,” she said, pulling on Bucky’s arm in an effort to get us away from the crowd. “Is that Sharon?” Sam asked over the comms.

“Unfortunately,” Bucky answered, earning a light, disapproving smack from me to his chest.

“Hey, Sam, I thought I’d get the band back together,” Sharon said into her earpiece.

“Thank you, you’re risking a lot coming here.” I took a step forward towards the blonde, “If you want me to fly you out of here, now’s the time.”

She gave a little shrug, “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist,” Bucky grumbled.

“They’re gonna move on the building soon. Be ready,” Sam’s voice flowed into my ear.

“Same goes for you,” I replied, trying to compartmentalize the constant anxiety that ran through me in regards to my brother’s safety. Though knowing he wore vibranium wings now did help ease my fears a little. I turned my attention back to Sharon and Bucky, “Let’s split up and do a perimeter check. Front’s clear so I’ll take the back, you two take the sides.” “Wow,” Sharon smirked, “Give you a suit and suddenly you’re Miss Take Charge.” I shot her smirk right back at her as she headed down her side of the building while Bucky and I went around the other way. “Somethin’ changed while I was gone,” he observed as we walked. “You made amends,” I replied, flashing back to my visit to the graveyard, “I made peace.” I expelled energy from my fingertips to float above him and fly to the back of the building, not a soul in sight.

“Y/n, Sharon, Bucky, what’s going on on your end?” Sam asked.

“Nothing, all quiet,” Bucky answered. “Same here,” I said, taking another look around me to be sure,

“No one’s moving toward the building,” Sharon added.

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out,” Sam said, “It’s a misdirect, we gotta keep everybody inside.”

I levitated once again and headed to the front of the building, finding Bucky and Sharon waiting for me. Once I landed, we entered through the glass doors. “You guys are gonna have to do something,” Sam panted through the comm, “Don’t let ‘em out of the building.”

We passed through the building’s metal detectors one by one with no issue, till the alarm sounded off on Sharon. “Oops,” she muttered unconvincingly. “Here’s one of them,” Bucky said, gesturing towards a man in a security uniform, a Flag Smasher, “We’ll get the evac.” Bucky and I winded around the halls but didn’t get far before a woman came walking towards us with a phone extended out in her palm, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Y/l/n, it’s Karli.” How she knew my name baffled me, Bucky reached for the phone regardless and took note of the orange handprint projected on the screen. He placed the call on speaker, “Karli?”

“Aren’t you two tired of fighting for the wrong side?” the young girl asked.

Bucky scoffed as we stepped down a staircase, “I’ve done this before, kid. I know how it ends.”

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t survive this,” she replied, “I’m fighting for something bigger than myself. With all the bodies you’ve collected, have you been able to say the same?”

“You don’t think I ever fought for something bigger than myself?” Bucky asked, “That’s all I ever tried to do. And I failed twice.” I tugged Bucky’s arm so the phone was in front of me, “Karli, all I’ve ever wanted was to use my powers for good. I respect the fight you’re fighting but this isn’t the way to win it.” “Believe me, I know all about your father’s crimes,” she spoke back, “I looked you up after meeting you in Riga, and trust me, the side you’re on is no better than the one your dad was one.” My heart clenched at her words, I knew that she was a black and white person who only dealt in absolutes, but it didn’t mean hearing it didn’t hurt. “If you wanted to do any real good, you’d have joined us,” Karli continued, “You’d have needed to get your hands dirty, but you’d have made an actual difference.” “You think your cause justifies all this death,” Bucky stepped in and took the wheel, “But in the end, the nightmares won’t go away. You’re gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this path.”

There was a hopeful pause over the line, followed by a disappointing response. “If that’s how the both of you feel, you should sit this one out.” I glanced over at Bucky, sharing the same tired, yet determined look I was displaying. “That’s not gonna happen.” “Well, thank you,” Karlie replied, “I’m glad you took my call, you’ve been a big help.” She hung up then, the realization hitting me immediately as to why she’d called us. “The evac,” I breathed, “It was a deterrence.”

“Damn it,” Bucky growled with a clenched jaw, “Come on!”

We raced through across the floor of the building, making for the winding staircase lit up with flashing emergency lights that would lead us to the parking lot. Since we were the only two fleeing the building that particular way, it was a safe bet to make that the hostages had already been evacuated. Once we were in the parking lot, Bucky took the lead and led me to a parked row of motorcycles, quickly hot-wiring one.

“Seriously, guys, you had one job,” Sharon popped out from behind a pillar to critique us.

“You worry about your guy,” Bucky grumbled as he swung his leg over to straddle the vehicle, I promptly did the same, “Good?” Locking my arms around his torso and scooching forward so my Vibranium chest was pressed against his back, I nodded. “Good.” Bucky floored the gas pedal and we rode off with an echoing screech, finding our way through the garage’s exit. A blockade of soldiers yelled at us as we quickly approached them, shooting through the gap between barriers and whipping around the street corner. On any other occasion I’d have enjoyed clinging tight to Bucky’s body as we rode through the cool New York evening air. Sadly, there was no time to savor the moment.

“That’s one down,” Sharon’s voice came through my comm. “How’d you manage that?” Sam joined in. “Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” Bucky made a sharp turn down one of the streets causing me to clutch his middle tighter, “Any idea where they’ll be headed?” “I thought you were the one in charge,” Bucky retorted over the engine’s noise. “You better speed things up, Sam,” Sharon said, “The chopper’s about to take off.” “Bucky, Y/n,” Sam called, grunts following directly after. Bucky halted at a light, determining the rest of our course. “I don’t fly, man, that’s your guys’ thing.” He revved the bike and turned down a different street.

I pressed a hand to my ear, “Meet you there.” Placing a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, I levitated off the motorcycle and watched him continue on his path while I turned in the opposite direction and headed back through the city. From across the way, I could see the silhouette of Sam’s wings as he jumped off of the building after the helicopter. The chopper had taken a nose dive and was headed for the street, pulling up just before it hit the overpass. I quickened the speed in which I was flying over the bay, catching up to Sam soon enough. He flew lower than me, his new wings dipping into the waters before he shot back up.

“Plan?” I called into the comms as I kept close to the rear of the chopper. “We gotta take out the pilot,” Sam answered, “Take the left side.” I flew to my designated spot and reached out a hand to grasp onto one of the bars of the plane. Reabsorbing my energy, I put full faith in my grip as I dangled off of the helicopter in mid flight. I poked my head out to the window on the pilot’s side only to be given a front row seat to his attempt to kill Sam, firing a machine gun till my brother was forced to pull back and off the chopper. The pilot whipped his head around to lay eyes on me, aiming his gun. Lightning fast, I let go of the bar and narrowly escaped the shots fired, throwing my hands out and expelling energy to resume my flight. Sam wasn’t far behind, we took off in tandem with one another with him sending Redwing ahead to see if any of the hostages had flight training. As the chopper plunged towards the water, we moved in synch with it, just a few hundred feet behind in a dance of sorts. In the distance, I could barely make out the shape of an almost identical vehicle headed towards the one we were tailing, this one bearing the logo of the NYPD. Our chopper rammed itself into the front of the police copter, sending it spinning in a spiral of smoke and fire. If we didn’t get there in time, it would crash into one of the skyscrapers or worse. Sam and I changed course and made a beeline for it. “Get the co-pilot,” Sam yelled as he swerved to my left.

I flew up to the side window and shot an energy blast towards it, smashing the glass and startling the co-pilot. I then levitated him out of the chopper and flew the two of us down to the bridge below us, Sam was right behind me with the pilot. The plane was losing altitude fast and was headed straight for our rescue party. Before I could even think to build a force field, Sam shoved me and the pilots down and shielded us with his wings. I felt the Vibranium shake as the plane bounced off of us and over the edge of the bridge. Sam retracted his wings and the two of us rose to our full heights, him in all his red, white and blue glory.

“Go, I got this,” he instructed, taking off into the skies before I could put up a fight.

I levitated high above the bridge to get a birds eye view of the city, “Bucky, where are you?”

“42nd Street, heading west,” he answered

“I’m a tourist, those words mean nothing to me.”

“I’m passing a building with white and red lights,” he modified his answer. My eyes searched for the building he was talking about, spotting it quickly and taking off toward it. I looked below me to see two humvees and multiple bodies running around them. “Found them, they’re trying to build a-“ “I see ‘em, coming in hot,” Bucky interrupted, I could see his motorcycle speeding down the street and toward the barricade the Flag Smashers had arranged. Taking a leap, or rather a fall of faith, I absorbed my energy and free fell, throwing my hands out and releasing it just before my feet hit the ground. Bucky wasn’t far behind, leaping off his motorcycle and diving forward to tackle one of the Flag Smashers. The man jumped to his feet and Bucky engaged him in combat, the two exchanging punches with Bucky having more favor. In a split second of separation between the two I shot a blast of energy at the man that sent him flying backwards into the side of a truck, creating a super soldier shaped dent in the car. A sudden explosion sounded off nearby, I turned to see that one of the humvees had been set ablaze. Bucky and I ran to the vehicle, I sent an energy blast towards the high tech lock that had been placed on the back doors. It did absolutely nothing.

“Hold on,” Bucky shouted to the screaming hostages as he used his Vibranium arm to pull on the door handle. Even he couldn’t get it open. “Help me!”

I focused all my energy on the lock, sending unsuccessful blast after unsuccessful blast. Letting out a frustrated cry, I backed away giving Bucky another chance to try. He began throwing a stream of relentless punches, his determination growing with each hit. Eventually he’d done enough damage that he switched to pulling at the door’s bar. The pain on his face as he pulled was heartbreaking, the tendons and muscles where his prosthetic met his flesh stretching to too great a length. Making one last ditch effort, I extended my energy towards the handle to help him in his efforts. Together, we strained and struggled until the lock finally broke and the doors opened. While Bucky kept his footing, I fell backwards doing a very ungraceful somersault and landed on my side. What I saw happening in front of me was almost too shocking to believe, and yet not at all.

John Walker was getting his ass kicked by the Flag Smashers.

With a replica of the iconic shield that was definitely not made of Vibranium and his suit, he was lying on the ground being pummeled by the super soldiers. With the vigor in which they were attacking him, I knew that the metal wouldn’t protect him forever. The man that I hated, who had tried to kill me, Sam and Bucky, who had shed innocent blood on Steve’s legacy…I could have let them kill him and I should have wanted to.

But even in my hatred, I couldn’t let a man die.

I rose to my feet and sent a stream of energy towards two of them, knocking them a few feet away from Walker. The third who I deduced to be Karli, came charging at me. I threw up a force field to act as a shield and met each one of her punches with the energy. She let out grunts of frustration, going for a roundhouse kick but giving me just enough time to drop the field and levitate her into the air. I held her there a second, watching her flail about trying to escape before tossing her several hundred feet away from us towards the end of the street. The two Flag Smashers that I’d knocked over came charging back toward me, it was time to test out just what the suit could do…

I focused my energy out through my elbow and hit one of them square in the jaw, the energy sending him rolling down the road far greater a distance that I’d have been able to cause without the Vibranium amplifying it. I turned around to the other one, dodging a quick punch before sending my energy down to my foot, landing a kick my attacker’s stomach that caused him to go airborne and land on top of one of the trucks. Unfortunately, the first guy didn’t stay down as long as I needed him to and came up from behind me and landed a kick to my back. I fell to the road with a groan, felt the burn of the asphalt as it shredded my cheek. I heard the man rip something metal followed by the sound of his thick boots coming my way, undoubtably he’d grabbed something to use as a weapon. As I rose to take another stand, I saw Bucky come running past me and turned to watch him knock the Flag Smasher over, the man dropping the toll meter he’d been holding as a bat over me. Bucky strode forward and they began fighting one another with punches and kicks while I looked around to see Karli welding the unattended meter. She swung it towards Bucky, his avoidance of the hit and my creation of a force field around him totally in synch. Karli took another swing at him and met resistance, unable to move the weapon as I froze it in place with my energy.

“You don’t have to do this,” I urged her.

With a yell she let go of the weapon and dove for me, being hit in the face with a chain that Bucky had picked up. Before I could stop it, the Flag Smasher who had originally intended to hit me with the toll meter landed a kick that sent Bucky flying backwards. His metal hand scraping the asphalt as he desperately tried to hold on before going over the edge of the nearby construction site. “BUCKY!” I cried as he screamed into the night air just before Karli kicked me down herself, and landed a punch to my abdomen. The Vibranium, while giving me protection, still allowed some of the blow to reach me and I was in just enough pain that I couldn’t go after the Flag Smasher that leapt down into the construction hole Bucky had landed in. I sent a blast of energy at Karli, throwing her back and allowing me the time to stand up and regain my footing. At the same time I rose, so did Walker, the two of us sharing eye contact that was oceans away from the last time we’d met on the battlefield. Separating once again, he turned to lift one of the Flag Smashers up by her throat while I landed a punch on one that was coming for me. The second van of hostages was brimming with horrified screams, both my and Walker’s attention being redirected to them. Karli, who stood a few feet away from us, made a run for the humvee and Walker and I chased after her. Walker braced himself with the shield and the two of them came face to face with one another. Giving another insignificant try, I sent a stream of energy towards the lock in an attempt to break it but couldn’t without Bucky’s brute strength. Behind me, I could hear the grunts and groans of Walker and Karli moving around as they fought one another. When the noises got too distant to still be close by, I knew I needed to go back Walker up.

I looked through the everything-proof glass window to the terrified faces of the senators. “We’ll get you out, I promise,” I yelled, taking off towards the fight.

Karli came running out from where they’d disappeared behind, I sent another blast her way that she dodged. She leapt into the air with a cry and raised a fist, I threw up a force field that she bounced off of and rolled to the ground. “This isn’t change, Karli,” I spoke up over the noise of the fire, “It’s murder.” The only response I got was another yell, Karli came charging towards me forcing me to throw up another shield to deflect her punches and kicks. I didn’t want to hurt her, I didn’t even want to fight her. It was different than with Walker where there was a mutual disliking of one another since almost the very beginning, she was just a kid looking to fight anyone who got in her way. Her cause was even something I agreed with, but I couldn’t stand by her taking innocent lives in the process.

Karli caught my exposed neck, gripping my neck tightly and holding me in the air. The bruises from Walker’s assault hadn’t fully healed and Karli was squeezing far tighter than he had. Thinking quickly, I swung my legs around to the back of her knees and forced my energy out of my feet as I slammed into her legs. The two of us fell in a heap, Karli on top of me with her grip loose enough on my throat that I could get out of it and flip her over. I pinned her hands to the asphalt on either side of her head using my energy, “You can stop all of this right now,” I urged over her furious cries, “Karli, please.”

Karli snarled at me before moving her knees to hit me in my back, throwing me off balance and giving her the perfect opportunity to launch me down the same hole Bucky had fallen down. I caught myself mid air and looked down to see Bucky and one of the Flag Smashers fighting with a metal beam, Bucky gaining the upper hand. I dropped to the ground and ran to him as he landed a final strike against the man, knocking him to the ground. As my hand reached out for his arm, there was a violent crash above us. We looked up to see that the humvee filled with the hostages had been driven off the road and was balancing on top of the construction. It teetered on the edge, ready to slip at any moment and finish Karli’s plan. I extended my energy to steady the vehicle, I wasn’t sure what made me think I could keep a couple thousand pound vehicle suspended in midair but the fact that I’d never used my powers like this didn’t matter. I had to try. As it rocked back and forth against my energy, I took a stance and dug my heels in the ground, sending up the steady streams I’d recently discovered I could produce. They curved around the front of the vehicle, protecting it from falling any further. The screams of terror from the hostages were my motivation to keep going, to do everything in my power that I could do save who I could.

After a few seconds of bearing my teeth and groaning in struggle, the load lessened slightly. I opened one of my eyes that had been squeezed shut in concentration to see Walker’s homemade shield near my feet, the decommissioned captain above me pulling the truck from the back. For once, we were working as a cohesive unit. Who would have thought…

All was short lived though as the second we were making progress on getting the humvee away from the edge, Karli and two other Flag Smashers jumped Walker and attacked him. Unable to hold them off, they toppled over and fell into the pit alongside Bucky and I. I cried out as the full weight of the humvee became mine to bear once again, fighting harder than ever to keep it from falling. Every muscle in my body clenched as I kept the streams flowing while also slowly rising off the ground, wondering if it was possible for my body to run out of energy with how much I was throwing into my stand. I had to save them, so long as I was able to fight, I wouldn’t allow any more innocent bloodshed. My hands shook, causing my streams to shake and I groaned as my body sent every signal that it couldn’t continue on.

As I started to falter, I felt something come up beside me and some of the heaviness was taken away. Looking to my left, Sam was in the air bracing the weight of the truck alongside me. I felt renewed with his help to rise with him as we used our combined strength to steadily raise the humvee back onto the beams of the construction site. Once it was secured, Sam and I both landed on either side of the truck and faced the crowd. I made the easy decision to fly back down into the pit, the moment belonged to Sam and no one else. Bucky was at my side at once, his hands on my arms and a careful set of eyes watching to make sure I was okay. I rested my forehead on his shoulder for a too brief second and nodded through my heavy breathing.

From in front of us, Karli launched a spear towards Bucky’s head that he easily got throwing it to the side as he stared her down. Sam’s shield came flying out of nowhere, hitting Karli and rebounding off of the other Flag Smasher before landing back on Sam’s wrist. Karli shed her mask, looking at him with disgust and shock. “You of all people bought into that bullshit?” she asked, examining his patriotic suit from a distance.

“I’m trying something different,” Sam answered, his voice steely, “Maybe you should do the same.”

A sudden explosion was set off, a grenade landing at our feet setting off smoke that blinded us. I quickly covered Sam, Walker, Bucky and myself in a large force field, as my eyes tried to make out Karli’s figure. “This way,” Sam directed, using the tech in his goggles to spot them. I dropped the shield and followed him, the only person I could make out semi-clearly in the haze. We ran down and through a nearby tunnel, weaving down underground hallways in search of the remainders of the group. “Hey Sharon,” Bucky said into his comm, “We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.”

“Looks like they split up,” Sam announced, he pointed down a corridor, “Here.” Walker took off without a second thought, while Bucky paused in front of Sam and I. “I got it,” he pointed to my brother, brushing his fingers against mine before heading down the hall. Sam and I both watched them leave, my anxiety rising with each step Bucky took away from me. Shaking myself out of the spiral I knew I’d go down if I gave it any more thought, I followed Sam’s lead as we continued on our way. The sound of the Flag Smasher’s signature whistle echoed off the walls causing Sam and I to freeze, he determined where it may have come from and motioned for me to come forward.

“If something happens, you get the hell out of here, got it?” Sam whispered. “Nice try,” I replied, having flashbacks to the various times in the past week or so that we’d had conversations like this, “I’m not leaving you.” Suddenly, two shots were fired nearby. Sam and I bolted in the general direction that the sound had come from, fear flooding my body at the thought of Bucky being on the receiving end of one of the bullets. The worry caused me to run faster. We made it into a wider room, Karli standing in the middle with a gun aimed at a helpless Sharon, laying on the ground with a hand over her abdomen. I spotted the blood staining her shirt and threw a force field around her as Sam clipped his shield to his back. “Sam, stay back,” Karli warned, her eyes flicking to him briefly before landing back on Sharon.

“So, what’s next, huh?” Sam asked, taking careful steps toward her, “You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end? Please,” he lowered his tone, “Let me help you.” “Don’t try and manipulate me,” Karli replied, looking between the blue barrier I shielded Sharon with and me. She twisted her body to aimed her gun at me, my resolve to protect Sharon stronger than protecting myself.

“Karli, don’t!” Sharon cried.

Sam dove forward and tackled the girl to the floor, somersaulting away from her as Karli raised a piece of cinderblock. She launched it at Sam who deflected the makeshift weapon with his shield. Karli swung at him and Sam jumped on top of a small staircase, his shield in front of him at all times. “I’m not gonna fight you!” he yelled, leaping off the stairs.

Karli continued her attack, Sam dug the tips of his wings into the concrete and met her fist with the shield. “Karli…” he urged just before she ripped the shield away and walked him backwards, Sam completing a series of jumps and flips. Karli grabbed a metal pipe and swung it at Sam, knocking him to the ground. “Stay down!” she growled.

Every instinct I had told me to go after the person who was endangering Sam’s life, anybody’s would be. But I knew that it was pointless to fight her, it was only giving her what she wanted. The serum enhanced people’s personalities, Karli had always been a fighter but now, she was looking to fight anything and anyone and would do it ruthlessly. I couldn’t buy into it.

I retracted the shield I’d built around Sharon and flew around Karli, placing myself between her and Sam. “Karli, the fight is over,” I breathed.

“No!” she shrieked, barely giving me enough time to throw up an energy shield before she threw a punch. Her fist bouncing off of it only angered her more and she began a relentless attack, banging her hands against the force field, taking swipes anywhere she could. I levitated over her head and landed a few feet away, luring her away from Sam. Karli was furious at the fact that she couldn’t touch me or get me to try and battle her. It didn’t take long for Sam to spring to his feet, throwing his shield out in between Karli and I. Karli focused her efforts on Sam then, punching the shield relentlessly as Sam walked her away from me. “Fight back!” she screamed in my brother’s face.

I extended my energy and pulled her away from Sam, throwing her a few feet away from us. Karli let out a battle cry and leapt forward, Sam and I coming side by side and holding up our respective shields. Karli’s fist rebounded off of my energy and spun around to hit Sam’s shield, he then grabbed her by the waist and turned on his thrusters, flying them across to room to slam Karli into a beam. “Stop it,” he ordered, gripping her by the lapels of her jacket. Karli replied by throwing him above her head into the ceiling, I used my energy to yank her away from Sam and in front of me.

“Listen to me, Karli,” I urged, earning a super-soldier shiner to my cheek, “We’re not your enemies.” Karli dropped me to the ground like I weighed nothing, the vibranium suit creating a dent in the flooring. I let out a groan at the shock and she ran off to deal with Sam. “Fight me!” she screamed as she clawed at the shield, “Fight back!” She flipped him over.

He fell.

The shield fell out of his reach.

Karli picked up the gun and aimed it at Sam.

He rose, accepting his fate.

Gathering the strength I had left, I got to my feet.

With trembling hands, knowing what I was about to do, I levitated and landed in front of Sam.

Karli’s face shifted, though I couldn’t read it as my emotions overwhelmed me.

A supercut ran through my mind.

Sam.

Sarah.

AJ and Cass.

Mel.

My mom.

My father.

A legacy rewritten.

Bucky.

Would he forgive me for what I was about to do? I hoped so.

“Go ahead,” I whispered, staring Karli down and blinking away the tears before she could see them, “Do it.” Karli’s face scrunched up as her finger prepared to pull the trigger when suddenly, three gunshots went off from nearby, hitting her. The gun fell to the ground and so did she. My eyes flew to where the bullets had come from, the sight of Sharon holding the smoking gun awaiting me. Sam dropped to his knees to cradle Karli’s head, the young girl staring up at him wide eyed and afraid. I knelt down on the other side of her, slipping her still warm hand into mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, staring up at Sam before looking to me. The only thought that ran through my mind was she’s just a girl, she’s just a girl…As I watched the tears well in her eyes before the life drained from them and they shut, the sudden innocence overwhelmed me. She was just a girl…

I didn’t let go of her hand even when it went limp, holding it to my heart as I wept over her. Sam cradled her cheek as we sat quietly, the only sounds were my soft sobs and Sharon’s labored breathing. I couldn’t face her right now, my feelings were too mixed about the way she had saved my life.

Eventually, once an undetermined amount of minutes had passed, Sam lifted Karli into his arms and the two of us rose to leave. When I turned to tell Sharon to come with us, she was already gone, probably having slipped out a back hallway. Sam carried Karli’s body the entire way out of the building, I hardly registered when we made it outside in the night air.

“I’ll clear the way for you,” I mumbled, extending my energy and shooting into the air, Sam not far behind me. The wind blowing against my dried my tears off of my cheeks as I flew toward the glow of ambulance lights outside the building we’d started the night at. There were crowds of news crews, there were the senators we’d saved and officers cleaning up the wreckage that had been left behind. They all noticed as I flew up, landing in the midst of it all and scanning the crowd for Bucky. Once I spotted him and Walker towards the very back near the ambulances, I ignored the reporters asking me questions as I weaved through the chaos. Bucky strode forward as I neared and wrapped me in his arms, I let go of the breath I’d been holding in my chest as soon as our bodies met. He was okay. My hands held the back of his neck as I dug my face into his shoulder. He tapped my waist and I turned to see Sam flying in, resembling the an angel with his outstretched wings as he landed. He carefully passed off Karli’s body to the paramedics who placed the girl on a stretcher, carrying her off to who knows where.

Sam walked towards the crowd, doing the same as me and ignoring the reporters flooding him with unimportant questions. He had flown in carrying the dead body of a kid and here they were, asking him if they should refer to him as Captain Falcon. He stopped in front of the senators who were busy thanking him for dealing with what I heard one refer to as ‘terrorists.’

“Are you still going forward with resetting the borders?” Sam asked.

They answered, and while I couldn’t hear their words, I could read Sam’s face well enough to know it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“You have to stop calling them terrorists…” “What else would we call them?” one of the senators asked. “Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the word, right?” Sam continued, “What do you think those people are going to call you? These labels, terrorists, refugees, thug. They’re often used to get around the question ‘why.’

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” another senator asked. “Yes,” Sam said plainly.

“And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless?” the bearded senator pushed back, “Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.”

Just as he prepared to walk away, Sam spoke up. “You know what, you’re right, and that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging and, I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is, now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you can remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful, it could erase half the planet. You would know that you were about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions. Senator.”

“You just don’t understand,” the senator replied, probably the most ignorant response I’d ever heard.

Sam scoffed, “I’m a black man, carrying the stars and strips. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people out there who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here. I feel it. The stares, the judgment, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Yet I’m still here. No super serum. No blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”

Holding onto Bucky a little tighter, the tears that I shed had morphed to those of joy. There my brother stood, in front of the government and the entire country saying what we all needed to hear. He spoke without reserve, unapologetic in his stance, and I had never been prouder of him.

“We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway,” Sam’s voice rose with passion, “Look, you control the banks. Shit, You can move borders. You can knock down a forest with an email. You can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room with you when you’re making those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” he paused, collecting himself before gesturing to where Karli’s body lay in the ambulance, “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you. And no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve got to do better, Senator, you’ve got to step up because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t want to see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god,” Sam’s voice broke for only a second, “Or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is how are you going to use it?”

With that, he walked away from the crowd that had been watching him so intently and made his way towards us. He stopped in front of Walker, the two of them sharing a look before nodding to one another, a non-verbal truce being declared. Walker also turned to me, in the end he had stepped up and done the right thing, but I knew that the two of us would never be on good terms. I’d never forget his tightening grip around my throat, nor would he forget that I wasn’t afraid of him and would tear him apart if he ever tried anything like he had in the warehouse again. But I had saved the guy’s life and because of that, his stare softened for only a second as he nodded his thanks to me. I watched as he disappeared into the crowd, off to whatever his next mission may be…

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, “a black guy in stars and stripes,” Bucky broke the tension of the moment as Sam approached us.

The three of us shared a chuckle before Sam and I locked eyes, not having spoken a word yet about what had happened underground. I threw my arms around his neck as he wrapped his around my shoulders, sharing probably the best hug we’d ever had. Our shared goal of keeping one another alive had been achieved. “Love you,” I whispered in his ear. “Love you too,” he replied, a hint of emotion choking him up. He squeezed a little tighter before releasing me, the three of us walking off together.

“Nice job, Cap,” Bucky said, patting Sam’s back that displayed the shield before sliding his hand back around my waist. A few feet away, hidden behind one of the ambulances and leaned up against the car was a familiar blonde figure.

“Sharon?” Sam called.

“Blocking my light,” she retorted, holding a gauze pad to the gunshot wound on her abdomen. “We need to get you to a hospital,” I strode forward, examining her injury as best I could.

“She’s not gonna listen,” Bucky grumbled as he looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was following us. Sharon panted as she shrugged, “Hey, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.”

“Told you…” Bucky said at my side. “Yeah, I don’t care,” I shook my head, “We’re take care of this.” “Uh, Cap?” an interruption came, the senator that had been on the receiving end of most of Sam’s impassioned speech. “I think he’s talking to you,” Sharon said before turning to both Sam and I, “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth,” she looked Sam up and down and genuinely smiled, “Suit looks good on you.”

Sam chuckled, “Thanks.”

Bucky nodded along, humoring the conversation for as long as he could. “All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” he asked, placing a hand on Sharon’s back to urge her forward. Giving up, she allowed him to lead her away.

“I didn’t forget my promise,” Sam called to Sharon, referring to the pardon I hoped he could secure for her.

I turned to my brother, “Meet you back home?”

He gave a long sigh, his eyes flitting between Bucky’s departing figure and me, “Why don’t you stay here a couple days?” I knew what he was offering and how hard it was for him to say the words, he was trying to give me time with Bucky. I did my best to conceal my smile, “Are you sure?” “You risked your life all week, you almost died trying to protect us,” he stated with a scoff, “I think you deserve a little time off. Now go,” he looked back to Bucky and scrunched his face up a little, “Before I change my mind.” Unable to hide my grin any longer, I reached out and clasped hands with him, bringing each other in for another hug. “Go get ‘em, Cap.”

The two of us let each other go, off to tend to our business before eventually reuniting back in the house we’d grown up in. It was crazy to think that I owed almost every great thing in my life to the boy who’d sat next to the lonely girl in first grade. Now here we were, dressed in Vibranium off saving the world, or at least doing what we could to make it a better one.

——

“Superhero, nurse…you’re full of surprises, Y/l/n,” Sharon commented before sucking in a sharp breath as I placed another suture.

I laughed softly, concentrating on my work, “I took a first aid class a couple years ago. When you’re living with two boys, trust me, it comes in handy a little too often. But I’ve never had to remove a bullet.” We were seated on the floor of Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment with me tending to Sharon’s wound using his first aid kit. Bucky was waiting in his bedroom to give us privacy, Sharon had her shirt pulled up and her pants unbuttoned to give me full access to her stomach. I’d had to place sutures once when Sarah had accidentally sliced her finger open with a knife, pulling out a lodged bullet was entirely new to me.

“I saw you tonight, with the truck,” she said as she watched me work, “You did good.”

I supposed now that I had shown my powers to the world, I’d have to get used to people paying me compliments but for now, I still didn’t know how to take them. “So are you gonna stick with it? The hero thing?” Sharon asked.

I tied another suture, closing the sterilized hole in her abdomen. “I think so. Captain America needs a right hand man, why not have it be his sister?” Sharon hummed in agreement, a beat of silence passing. “You don’t think you’ll strike out on your own? You seem a little too independent to follow orders.” “Yeah, well,” I started working on the last stitch, “Sam and I work better together than I would with anyone else. Maybe one day I’ll do my own thing but for now, I’m fine where I’m at.” “Well, I guess you’re finally in a position to do all that good you said you wanted to,” she sighed, “Just don’t forget to keep your eyes open, opportunity’s everywhere.” “Alright, Miss Madripoor,” I chuckled, sterilizing the wound one more time with an alcohol wipe, “Your hustler side is showing.”

Sharon shrugged and gave a little smirk, “All I’m saying is there’s a lot of ways to effect change, but I’m sure you’ll find that out.” Storing her advice away in my head for a later time, I placed a gauze pad on her abdomen and secured it. “Alright, you should be good. Just promise me that you’ll actually get checked by an actual doctor or whatever you have in High Town?” “Sure thing, Doc,” she replied with a smile as she adjusted her clothes again and rose to her feet, “You’re good, Barnes!” Bucky stepped back out into the room, peering around the corner carefully before entering fully. Despite the fact that he was in his own apartment, he still hadn’t changed out of what he’d worn to the fight. “What happens now?” I asked, looking to Sharon, “Hotel? Hidden apartment in some dodgy part of the city?” Sharon chortled at my suggestions, “I’ve got a plane waiting to take me back to Madripoor. The longer I stay here, the more of a chance they’ll find me,” she gave a small smile, “It was good seeing you guys again.” “It won’t be the last,” I confirmed, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Sam’ll get that pardon, you’ll be back before you know it.” “That’d be nice,” she sighed longingly, clearly thinking about all the freedom that would come with coming back home. Coming back to the conversation, she patted my arm and regained her full voice, “But until then, keep them in check. God knows they need it.” “The hell does that mean?” Bucky grumbled from his position outside his bedroom, leaving Sharon and I to share a laugh before she walked to the front door. “I’ll do my best, and hey, thank you for what you did for me...” I called out just before she shot us one last knowing smile and left, the door shutting behind her. While I wanted to worry about her walking the streets of New York and possibly getting caught, I’d seen enough of her in action to know that she could handle whatever came her way.

Bucky slowly made his way to the door, locking it and turning around to face me. It was the first time of the night we’d been completely alone. Our eyes met, tired and traumatized but still alert and seeking one another out. Bucky crossed the room in a few long strides, taking his time in approaching me as if he was savoring the moment. I reached out once he was close enough and interlocked my hand with his, tugging him close to me. He dragged two featherlight fingers over the nasty bruise that Karli had given me, his brow furrowing as he examined the side of my face. I ran my thumb over the long red bruise across the side of his forehead, the pressure increasing when he leaned into my touch.

The night could have ended so differently. If Karli had pulled the trigger, if Bucky hadn’t fought on such high alert, we could have ended in tragedy. Such thoughts were better buried away and not thought of, but I couldn’t help it. Lucky, blessed, whatever word you wanted to use…we were it. With no battles on the horizon to fight, we could focus on figuring out just what spark there was between us.

No words needed to be spoken, not for now at least. Tonight, all I needed was to hold Bucky in my arms and remember that despite every odd and every trouble thrown our way, we were alive. And as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a tender but still passionate kiss, I had never felt more alive.

----

A/N: Oh, but we’re not done yet...We still have some time off and a cookout to attend 😉 I really can’t thank you all enough for sticking with this series the past few weeks, it means the world to me that I’ve been able to bring a little joy to people’s days. Let me know what you thought and if you’d like to be tagged for the LAST CHAPTER.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

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A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both. The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

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queerdraws · 3 years

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Cleaning Out the Rooms - a Harry Du Bois playlist Alcoholism, getting better?, memory loss, being a superstar, The Final Dream, forming political opinions, bad breakups, past transgressions, being a strange and inconsistent being, and persisting despite it all 26 songs (r-slur warning for Turnin’ on the Screw - QotSA)

including: David Bazan, They Might be Giants, The Mountain Goats, British Sea Power (of course), Queens of the Stone Age, and more. Full track listing and lyric excerpts under the cut

---- Turnin' on the Screw - Queens of the Stone Age (This is the opening track on Era Vulgaris, seemed like an appropriate opening song / introduction to Harry's general essence) ----

... They say those who can't just instruct others And act like victims or jilted lovers You can't lose it if you never had it Disappear, man, do some magic

Want a reason? How's about because You ain't a has been if you never was

I sound like this

Scared to say what is your passion So slag it all, bitter's in fashion Fear of failure's all you've started The jury is in, verdict: r******d

I'm so tired, and I'm wired too I'm a mess; I guess I'm turning on the screw

---- Bless this Mess - David Bazan (Harry being a drunk and a general mess, things going in cycles) ----

God bless the man who stumbles God bless the man who falls God bless the man who yields to temptation God bless the woman who suffers God bless the woman who weeps God bless the children trying her patience Trouble getting over it Is what you're in for So pour yourself another 'Cause it'll take a steady pair of hands Holy or unholy ghost Well now I can't tell, but either way you cut it You should get some distance if you plan to take a stand God bless the house divided God bless the weeds in the wheat God bless the lamp hid under a bushel I discovered hell to be the poison in the well So I tried to warn the others of the curse But then my body turned on me I dreamt that for eternity My family would burn Then I awoke with a wicked thirst

---- Don’t Sit Down Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair - Arctic Monkeys (general Harry vibe. off-kilter) ----

Break a mirror, roll the dice

...

Find a well-known hard man and start a fight Wear your shell suit on bonfire night Fill in a circular hole with a peg that's square

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

...

Bite the lightning and tell me how it tastes Kung fu fighting on your roller skates Do the Macarena in the devil's lair

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

---- I've Been Seeing Things - They Might be Giants (feels very Harry's detecting style, surreal happenstance) ----

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things Don't have answers but I've got lots of questions

Carpool's up, someone gets out Hand someone else a violin case I'm trying not to let them see me looking at them But I'm pretty sure there was a dollar sign

Keep your eyes peeled and you'll see stuff Which at first seems like unimportant irrelevant things

Can't just ask some perfect stranger "What are you hiding in your violin case?" Shadow them at a distance instead Try to get inside their head

Where'd they go now (Where'd they go now) I got distracted (I got distracted) Begging me to stay (Begging me to stay) Wearing a disguise (Wearing a disguise) That lady (That lady) Must have ditched the kid (Must have ditched the kid) Hidge the down (Hidge the down) [???] What's she up to now? (What's she up to now?) Trembling cold by the airport road Watching them stack containers in rows Seagulls, helicopter, windblown trash Something doesn't add up

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things No one asks but I'm packing all kinds of attention

Later I'm watching a news report Camera pans across a crime scene Unremarked upon detail Empty violin case Okay maybe not the same case Different material, different color Still you have to wonder Am I the only one who knows

I've been seeing things

---- Music is the Victim - Scissor Sisters (breakup Harry. drug-addled disco Harry) ----

I left my heart in San Fransisco It's at some motherfucking disco The people there where dancin' on it And that's including Ms. Matronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

Of your bad fun Money's all gone but you need some Lover's on the phone but they got none Daddy ain't home from the dog run And you're riding through the city with a shotgun

I left my bag in Pasadena Where all them girls was doin' Tina Them bitches sure were crunked up on it I said I'd rather smoke some chronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

---- Down to Your Soul - Right Away, Great Captain! (about the Final Dream and pre-game Harry) ----

And I see things I actually don't see. I knew it wasn't actually you a few feet from my reach. I looked into your eyes and I began to lose my teeth, And I felt you were dreaming the same thing.

And I know you don't know what I'm capable of But if you give me just one more minute I'm sure That you would be shaking right down to your soul And I'd hope that the fear of the lord brings me home. I'm a man in a body of water so tall Could swallow you whole and forget where he's going But I carved a map in the back of my arm Don't worry I'm coming home I said don't worry cause I'm coming home

---- No Surprises - Radiohead (suicidal harry, pre-game. Maybe immediately before the game. A little Big Communism Builder) ----

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government They don't, they don't speak for us I'll take a quiet life A handshake of carbon monoxide

And no alarms and no surprises

…

This is my final fit My final bellyache

…

No alarms and no surprises, please (get me out of here)

---- Cleaning Out the Rooms - British Sea Power (The instrumental part seems to have been used / referenced for a background music track. And also the name of that one thought project. as expected, it fits beautifully. Wake up in a new life, down by the seaside. Cleaning out the rooms. She’ll be coming soon.) ----

Where life is good in a way Swept away upon our hearts, in cold coal ceremonial On a rainy day, hang it up Get the vacuum and suck it in Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up Dark cloud, drifting out of view I'll never know, she'll be coming soon, that is all I'll wake up in a new life, ship shape and shoe shine Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up She'll be coming soon Drifting into view, way in the west, white cloud If everybody knew, I never knew, she'll be coming soon I'll wake up in a new life, down by the seaside In a new life, down by the seaside Cleaning out the room, I'll clean it up Dark clouds, she'll be coming soon Down the chimney, out the window, that is all

---- In the Morning of the Magicians - The Flaming Lips (waking up with no memory, but bad vibes) ----

In the morning I awake

And I couldn't remember What is love and what is hate

The calculations error

Oh, what is love and what is hate? And why does it matter? Is to love just a waste? And how can it matter?

Oh...

As the dawn began to break I had to surrender The universe will have its way Too powerful to master

---- Once in a Lifetime - Talking Heads (Huh?? What's happening?? same as it ever was, same as it ever was) ----

And you may ask yourself, "How do I work this?" And you may ask yourself, "Where is that large automobile?" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful house" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful wife"

...

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was Same as it ever was, same as it ever was

...

And you may ask yourself, "What is that beautiful house?" And you may ask yourself, "Where does that highway go to?" And you may ask yourself, "Am I right? Am I wrong?" And you may say to yourself, "My God! What have I done?"

---- Don't Change - David Bazan (alcoholism, cycles of wanting to get better, depression, slipping in to old coping mechanisms, plus a little bit in here about dreams. This is a song for if Harry continues partying after the memory wipe, I suppose) ----

He seems nice You met him once or twice But you wonder what he's like When he's sober

Then again You hear he has no friends Just people that he spins To do him favors

When he wakes up in the morning he tells himself Today I'll make a change But falling into his bed at night he thinks Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

I'm so deep That only in my sleep Do the secrets that I keep Float to the surface

So I hold them down Till they don't make a sound Like they accidentally drowned Except on purpose

And when I wake up in the morning I tell myself Today I'll make a change But falling into my bed at night I think Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

---- Airbag - Radiohead (born again, back to save the universe) ----

In the next world war In a jackknifed juggernaut I am born again In the neon sign scrolling up and down I am born again

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

In a deep, deep sleep of the innocent I am born again In a fast German car I'm amazed that I survived An airbag saved my life

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

---- A Comet Appears - The Shins (puppeting a man-body around pretending to be a living thing. drinking, depression) ----

One hand on this wily comet Take a drink just to give me some weight Some uber-man I'd make I'm barely a vapor

They shone a chlorine light on A host of individual sins Let's carve my aging face off Fetch us a knife Start with my eyes Down so the lines Form a grimacing smile

Close your eyes to corral a virtue Is this fooling anyone else? Never worked so long and hard To cement a failure

---- The Communists Have the Music - They Might be Giants (Big Communism Builder, but especially Harry's shallow understanding of Communism. Party-boy communist) ----

I got handed an Ayn Rand sandwich Straight from the can, it tasted so bland I asked a lass to pass me a glass Of Engels' Conditions of the Working Class

Right away they dragged me to the committee To explain my un-American activity They're gonna see they made a mistake If they'd only let me play my mixtape

I'm not partial to the martial Or the plutocrats, in their beaver hats And the fascists have the outfits But I don't care for the outfits What I care about is music And the communists have the music

---- Harlem Roulette - The Mountain Goats (Harry thinking about Guillame le Million? Generally: that vibe of secret, maybe supranatural machinations happening just outside your field of view. A kinda lonely, pensive vibe, sprinkled with past drug use, driving...memory) ----

Unknown engines underneath the city Steam pushing up in billows through the grates Frankie Lymon's tracking "Seabreeze" in a studio in Harlem Its 1968. Just a pair of tunes to hammer out. Everybody's off the clock by 10:00. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. Feels so free when I hit the avenue. Nothing like a New York summer night. Every dream's a good dream, Even awful dreams are good dreams, If you're doing it right. Remember soaring higher than a cloud. Get pretty sentimental now and then. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. And four hours north of Portland, a radio flips on. And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone. Armies massing in the dusky distance. Ghosted in the ribbon microphone. Leave a little mark on something, maybe, Take the secret circuit home. Nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands. Reaching out to sad, young, frightened men. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again.

---- Suture up Your Future - Queens of the Stone Age (Harry's gonna fix his mess) ----

I'm gon' suture up my future I ain't jaded, I just hate it See, I been down too long It's kinda hard to explain Burned and buried, all I carried

...

Tried explaining unexplained Got caught in the plan All this talking at once I've been giving my love away To the things that tear it apart I'm gonna suture up my future

---- Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse (Harry trashing his body / having already trashed his body, just kinda a Harry-vibe song) ----

...

Well, the lampshade's on fire when the lights go out This is what I really call a party now Well, fear makes us really, really run around A-this one's done so where to now? Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all Well, you all know what I'm talking about The room lights up, but we're still dancing around We're having fun, having some fun now

Pack up again, head to the next place Where we'll make the same mistakes Open one up and let it fall to the ground Pile out the door when it all runs out

...

As our feelings are getting hurt Oh, we want you to do the work Our ass looks great inside these jeans Well, we want just our water clean

Well, this is how it's always been And this is how it's going to be So you just move on

---- Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes (Harry "can-opener" du Bois. Talking to the skills, solving things, detecting, generally being a terrifying force of nature / the pale) ----

I'm gonna fight 'em all A seven nation army couldn't hold me back They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back

And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette

And the message coming from my eyes Says, "Leave it alone"

Don't wanna hear about it Every single one's got a story to tell Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell

And if I catch it coming back my way I'm gonna serve it to you And that ain't what you want to hear But that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones Says, "Find a home"

---- Body of Years - Mother Mother (Harry's past that follows him, Harry's half-decomposed body that marks the years of abuse it's been through) ----

All the remains of a cadaver of days I keep hidden away, keep them there just in case I wanna visit that place Blow the dust from the bones Off a body of years that I leave all alone Just a body of years

See the skin disappears And the blood turns to stone In a body of years now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul It's a body of years that I leave all alone

It's Just a body of years, now a pile of bones You know Old soul who falls down Can't stop trippin' on these Old roads I go down Get back up and get my foot in the door And my face on the page Make my mark in the world With a bat and a blade It's a body of work that you can't ever change Like a body of years that you take to your grave It's just a body of years that I leave all alone It's just a body of years, now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul

---- The Cap-m - They Might be Giants (just a Harry vibe song) ----

When I talk you keep looking away from me 'Cause you probably think that I'm high on pot But I'm not, I'm not

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You say it's such a joke But I don't see you laughing

People seem to think you can't be called the Cap'm Unless you drive a boat Well, I don't I don't

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm Go ahead and mess with me You'll find out what will happ'm

...

Did you say what I think you just said My hat looks good on me? I agree, I agree

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You act like it's a joke But I don't see you laughing

---- Broke - Modest Mouse (oops! all mistakes. Broke it all. Want to forget it but can't) ----

Broke account, so I broke a sweat I've bought some things that I sort of regret about now Broke my pace and ran out of time Sometimes I'm so full of shit that it should be a crime

Broke a promise 'cause my car broke down Such a classic excuse it should be bronze by now Broke your glasses, but it broke the ice You said that I was an asshole and I paid the price

Broken hearts want broken necks I've done some things that I'd love to forget, but I can't

Broke up, and I'm relieved somehow It's the end of the discussions that just go 'round and 'round And 'round, and 'round, and 'round ... It was like everything was evidence of broken time

You're living on fancy wine You'll drink that turpentine You're starting conversations You don't even know the topic

---- Spent Gladiator 2 - The Mountain Goats (Defiantly alive) ----

Like a spent gladiator, Crawling in the coliseum dust. Who can count on his remaining limbs, All the people he can trust. Like the one who stands behind him, Cheering him on. Ecstatic when he stands defiant, Wild with abandon when he's gone. Just stay alive. Keep your eyes on the pay line. Like a village on the step, About to get collectivized. When the men emerge with rifles from the haystack, Everybody looks surprised. Like the mice in the forgotten grain, Way up on the top shelf. Like someone who's found a small town to escape to, Keeps one eye on his abandoned, former self. Stay in the game. Just try to play through the pain. Like a fighter who's been told its finally time for him to quit. Show up in shining colors, And then stand there and get hit. Like the clock that ticks in Dresden, When the whole town's been destroyed. Like the nagging flash of insight, You're always desperate to avoid. Like the bloody-knuckled gunman, Still stationed at the breach. Like that board game with the sliders, And the children on the beach. Stay alive. Maybe spit some blood at the camera. Just stay alive. Stay forever alive.

---- You Only Live Once - The Strokes (just general Harry, talking about the skills, choices you can make, what kind of cop you can be) ----

Twenty-nine different attributes Only seven that you like, oh-oh Twenty ways to see the world, oh And twenty ways to start a fight, oh

...

And countless odd religions too It doesn't matter which you choose, oh, no One stubborn way to turn your back, oh This I've tried and now refuse, oh

Oh don't, don't, don't get up I can't see the sunshine Oh, I'll be waiting for you, baby 'Cause I'm through Sit me down Shut me up I'll calm down And I'll get along with you

---- Pork and Beans - Weezer (Superstar Cop) ----

They say I need some rogaine to put in my hair Work it out at the gym to fit my underwear Oakley makes the shades to transform a tool You'd hate for the kids to think that you've lost your cool

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

No, I don't care I don't care

---- Freaks - Surf Curse (head filled with skills, The Final Dream) ----

Don't kill me just help me run away From everyone I need a place to stay Where I can cover up my face Don't cry, I am just a freak

I am just a freak(x3)

My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully I won't wake up this time

I won't wake up this time(x3)

---- The Smallest Church in Sussex - British Sea Power (oh yeah this is mandatory) ----

#disco elysium #harry du bois #harrier du bois #hdb #disco elysium playlist #generally wanted to keep this playlist fun to listen to despite the subject matter to there are still a lot of songs w good beats #communists have the music gets stuck in my head all the time #also sorry to repost this #i forgot to tag anything and if you edit something to add tags it doesn't seem to show up in search

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Lover

Day 8, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Lover (or, five times Lavender felt Ron slipping away, and the one time she didn't)

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Lavender Brown, but also heavy insinuations on Ron x Hermione

Prompt: 5+1

Rating: T (for fabricated insinuations)

TW: Teen heartbreak and all the drama that comes with it.

Author's note: While I am primarily a Romione writer, I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here's a little Lav redemption. After all, she was only a girl who fell for a boy and pursued a perfectly unattached boy.

******

9 November 1996

I think he knows his hands around a cold glass

Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.

-I Think He Knows

The Gryffindor common room was aglow in crimson and gold, filled to capacity for the celebration of today’s victory against Slytherin. Seamus and Dean managed to smuggle in a boatload of Butterbeer for everyone, which masked the two bottles of Firewhisky Seamus was passing around their inner circle. Parvati and Lavender were lounging in the same armchair on the far side of the room.

Lavender’s never been one to pay close attention to a Quidditch match. Sure, she was all about the parties and house spirit following a match, and if Hogwarts had a cheer squad, she’d be the first person to sign up. But sitting in the stands, watching a match for an indeterminable amount of time? She could think of at least five other things to do that didn’t involve the wind claiming victim to her hair as players whizzed by on broomsticks.

Now that they were inside and out of the crisp November air, she could enjoy the party with her friends. Though, it’d be much more enjoyable if a certain redhead would stop flashing a grin in her direction and just come over to talk to her instead.

“You're staring again,” Parvati chided.

Lavender sighed in response. She couldn’t help it. He’d filled out over the summer, and Quidditch training had been kind to his physique. Red hair wasn’t a feature she ever gravitated to in the past, but freckles and those bright blue eyes were her downfall. Not to mention his infectious smile and the way he was always able to make everyone around him laugh. Ron Weasley was a good guy, and Lavender wanted to get to know him better.

“He’s single, right?” Her fingers twirled her curly blonde hair between her fingers as she watched him take a swig of Butterbeer from the cold glass in his hands.

“As single as the last time you asked me,” Parvati responded with an air of nonchalance in her tone.

Lavender wasn’t surprised by her bored tone. There was only so much they could talk about when it came to Ron, considering neither knew that much about him. She contemplated Parvati’s response, weighing the options of trying to pursue something. A voice in the back of Lavender’s mind was screaming at her to ask what her other roommate’s thoughts were on the matter concerning Lavender asking Ron out, but Hermione was nowhere to be found.

Besides, did it really matter what she thought? Hermione has had all the time in the world to make a move on Ron if she really wanted to. She had no claim on the redheaded Gryffindor. As far as Lavender knew, he was fair game, and at the rate Ron kept glancing in her direction, she was sure it meant something.

So, Lavender swiped the bottle of Firewhisky from the space between Parvati’s legs and the arm of the chair, where she’d been keeping it hidden, and took a large swig. She’d need the liquid courage for what she’d just decided to do.

“What are you—” Parvati started to ask before Lavender cut her off.

“I’m going for it.”

Without another thought, Lavender hopped off the chair and marched over to Ron, who had just set his empty glass down on the table behind him. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she was going to say anything or not and let the wide lopsided grin that erupted on his face decide for her when he saw her approaching.

“Hey, Lavender! What’d you think of the—”

Lavender didn’t wait to hear the rest of Ron’s question as she threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. His eager response paired with his hands finding a home on her hips egged her on as she refused to break the kiss right away. It was sloppy, and he was inexperienced, but he didn’t pull away at her advances.

I can teach him a thing or two and whip him into boyfriend material in no time.

When they finally did pull apart, it was to a chorus of catcalls around the room. A coy smile passed over her lips as she asked, “should we find someplace a little more private?”

♚

20 December 1996

Kiss me once, cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause you waited your whole life

~Paper Rings

“So, what do you want to do tonight?”

Lavender bounced up and down on the sofa next to Ron. It was the last night before the Christmas hols, and she wanted to make the most of it since she wouldn’t get to kiss him for two weeks. But something was off. Ron seemed distracted, and he kept looking past her, which was beginning to grate on Lavender’s nerves.

“Er, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of packing to do still, so I’m not sure if we should really—”

Lavender was taken aback as Ron threw himself at her, lips clashing together even though he was just in the middle of telling her he was too busy to do anything. Lavender cracked an eyelid open to see Hermione shoot them a disgusted look as she crossed the room and waited by the portrait hole. She clamped her eyes shut a moment later when she sensed Ron’s twitch.

She wasn’t going to complain about snogging her boyfriend in the middle of the common room, but she kept her ears open.

“Ah, Granger, looking delicious as ever.”

Hermione was going to the party with Cormac? She must really be desperate to want to go with that sleazeball.

“Let’s get going,” Hermione responded in her usual clipped tone. “I’d rather not be in the vicinity of that much longer.”

Lavender tried not to be offended by Hermione’s icy words. Ron didn’t deserve to be treated like rubbish, and neither did she. It’s not like Hermione had laid any claim on Ron. She tried to refocus her attention on the snog, but Ron pulled away as soon as the portrait hole closed.

Huh, well, that was odd.

“Well, I should go and get packed, then. I’ll see you in the morning?”

What just happened? Is he really going upstairs after snogging me like that?

Lavender was thoroughly confused by Ron’s actions. Nothing seemed to match up tonight, and she didn’t want to leave things like this at the train station tomorrow. She needed to know what was going through his mind.

“Won-Won, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing'. Why’d you start snogging me when Hermione came down the stairs?”

“What? I can’t snog my girlfriend? It had nothing to do with Hermione.”

Ron sounded convincing, but Lavender was still hesitant to believe it.

“Are you sure?

“Yes.”

Lavender noticed how Ron’s ears turned a bright shade of pink and wondered if he was hiding something. Even if he was, he was her boyfriend, and she decided to trust him. Switching gears, Lavender asked him the other question that was weighing on her mind.

“Not that I care who Hermione’s going to the Slug Club party with, but why McLaggen? Everyone in Gryffindor knows to stay away from him.”

“Dunno. Why do you say that?”

“You don’t know? McLaggen doesn’t like to be told ‘no’.”

“He—what?” Ron groaned and rubbed the back of his neck while his nostrils flared in annoyance. Or was it anger?

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t be going with him in the first place.”

“Why?” Lavender peered intently at Ron, waiting for an answer.

His cheeks were flushed as he shook his head, eyes darting to the boy’s staircase as if he was looking for an escape.

“Er, no reason…”

“Won-Won,” warned Lavender.

“I—er, I think I was supposed to go with Hermione tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

Lavender sensed his immediate attempt to backpedal the conversation before he even spoke. He was already standing and moving around to the backside of the sofa. Even as he attempted an explanation, Lav gathered the impression that he was trying to convince himself more so than her.

“Well, she never officially asked me! Besides, we got into a huge row, and now I’m with you, so it doesn’t matter. Look, Lav, I’m tired, and I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Without another word, Ron disappeared up the boy’s staircase, which left Lavender on the sofa, reeling at his words. How had she not known that Hermione had asked him—or tried to ask him—to the party? He wasn’t trying to get back at Hermione by using Lavender, was he?

No, that’s ridiculous! He fancies you! You wouldn’t have spent a whole month together if he was trying to get back at your roommate.

Lavender pushed her discomfort over Ron’s actions to the back of her mind. She’d know if he wasn’t interested. He probably just misses his friend. It was really a shame Hermione couldn’t be happy for Ron, or Lavender for that matter. But Lav wasn’t going to do anything about it, not while she had Ron all to herself. Maybe she was being selfish, but Ron was her boyfriend, and she intended to keep it that way.

♚

5 January 1997

Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true

I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

~Cruel Summer

Lavender was chomping at the bit to spend time with Ron upon their return to Hogwarts the Sunday after New Years, but obligations kept getting in the way. Apparently, Ron was busy with rounds and Prefect meetings during the entire train ride back to the castle, and then Harry had scheduled a team meeting after dinner. She’d given up the hope of seeing him that evening and settled on waiting for him to go down to breakfast the next morning.

Lavender hoped Ron wasn’t embarrassed because he never bought her a Christmas gift. They were only together for a month, and there wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend where he could have gone to buy her anything anyways. And since Harry was staying with the Weasleys, she assumed there were more safety wards in place, so the chances he could get to Diagon Alley to shop for her were slim too.

It’s not like she intended on getting him a gift, either, but when she saw the opportunity to get two lockets at buy one get one free, she couldn’t resist. She’d purchased one for Parvati’s gift, and her mother had always taught her to never pass up a deal, so she’d had the locket engraved with ‘Won-Won’ and sent it to him for Christmas.

When Ron came barreling down the stairs the next morning, Lavender was so excited that she pounced on him, which caused him to flail backwards and almost topple over.

“Won-Won!” She left a sloppier than intended kiss on his cheek as he turned his face.

“Hey, Lav. Er, sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine, are you ready for breakfast?”

He nodded as they exited the portrait hole. They were halfway to the Great Hall when Lavender attempted to engage him in conversation again. She knew he wasn’t a morning person, but she wasn’t willing to wait another few hours.

“So, how were your holidays?”

“Huh? Oh, they were good. Yours?”

“Wonderful! I love going home for Christmas. My younger brother was so excited to see me. I picked out a toy broom for his gift this year, and he spent the whole two weeks riding on it! I was so sad to say goodbye to him again, but Easter will be here before we know it. Maybe you can come home and meet my family for Easter hols.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

Lavender could sense from Ron’s lackluster response that he wasn’t paying attention. So, she followed his gaze, and of course, there was Hermione, most likely darting off to the library or wherever she went to avoid her former best friend. Her blood boiled at the way she was treating Ron. At least that’s what she was telling herself. She certainly wasn’t jealous of the way Ron was watching her.

Lavender reached up and gently turned his face back to focus on her. “Did you like your gift?”

“Y-yeah, it’s great.”

“Are you wearing it?” Her hand slid down to feel his chest. Maybe it was concealed under his uniform.

“Er, no. I—uh—I’ve got it tucked away under my pillow for safekeeping.”

“Why? You aren’t embarrassed of us, are you?”

“N-no! I just like to—uh—keep it close when I’m sleeping so I can dream of you!”

Lavender suppressed a laugh at his attempt to give an excuse to not wear it. It was sweet, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. She threw her arms around him and squealed in response to his reasoning. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable, so Lavender figured a positive reaction would make him feel better about the whole ordeal.

“That’s so sweet, Won-Won! I’m glad you liked it!”

His face turned a blotchy red as they entered the hall and found a seat at the Gryffindor table. Lavender chose not to press the issue anymore as she turned to her thoughts instead. Maybe the locket wasn’t the best idea to give a boyfriend of only a month. But she’d never felt this way before. Seamus had been a fun fling, but with Ron, she felt different. He made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and she hoped she hadn’t given him the wrong impression with the gift.

She’d just have to make it up to him in other ways. Yes, that was it. Lavender would make sure he knew how much she cared while also making sure his eye didn’t continue wandering toward her roommate and his former best friend.

♚

14 February 1997

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

~Lover

Lavender sat alone in the empty classroom, waiting for Ron to show up after rounds. Rounds! Why did he have to have rounds today, of all days? It was completely and utterly unfair. He promised her he’d meet her in the empty classroom near Gryffindor tower as soon as rounds were over, but it was already ten past eleven, and he was nowhere to be found.

She hadn’t gotten him anything this time for fear it might embarrass him again, just like the locket. Oh yes, she’d heard Harry telling Neville about his Christmas present while she was searching for a book in the library, and she heard every excruciating detail of how mortified Ron was by it. Apparently, it wasn’t under his pillow after all. It was hidden in the bottom of his trunk. So, for Valentine’s Day, she opted to give him something he could hang onto in his mind instead.

At least, that’s what she planned. Lavender took to pacing the classroom for another ten minutes before resigning to the fact that Ron wasn’t coming. A pang of disappointment rippled out from her heart, and she tried to convince herself that maybe he’d forgotten. But ever since they’d returned from Christmas hols, she felt Ron pulling further and further away. Before the two week break, they’d gone off to spend time together every night, snogging in empty classrooms and broom closets, and sometimes even a late-night walk around the castle. Now, she was lucky if she could pry him away from his studies twice a week to spend some quality time together.

Sure, they ate meals together and sat next to each other in their shared classes, but it wasn’t like they ever talked that much. Come to think of it, every time she’d try to ask about his life, he’d always deflect to her. And of course, Lavender never had a problem finding something to talk about with her family because she wanted to share everything she could with Ron. Yet now, she was wondering if he actually cared or if he was just being polite.

Thoughts consumed her mind as she walked silently back to Gryffindor tower. By the time she entered the common room, it was deserted. Part of her thought about checking to see if Ron was back in the dorms, but the other side told her it wasn’t worth it. It’d be his own fault if he got caught sneaking around after hours without her since he’d ditched her on what was supposed to be the most romantic night of the year.

The last thing she wanted to do was go up to her dorm and face Hermione’s smug look when she found out Ron ditched his girlfriend tonight, but she wasn’t about to hang around the common room like a rejected piece of garbage.

Ron is still yours. Not hers. Even if tonight didn’t go as planned, still make her remember that.

So, when she entered the girl’s sixth-year dorm, Lavender plastered a smile on her face. Parvati was sitting on her bed while Hermione’s curtains were closed tight.

“Hey! I was wondering when you were going to show up. Have a good night?”

“Oh, it was the best!” Lavender gushed. “Ron was so sweet and romantic. He gave me some chocolate frogs, which I know are his favorite, and I gave him...well, you know.”

She made her voice sound as suggestive as possible, and if Hermione was listening, then that was her own fault.

“I need to freshen up now. I’m rather sweaty from all that we got up to. And then I should head to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning, Par, I promise. Ron thoroughly wore me out, I’m exhausted.”

What neither girl realized, though, was that Lavender let out a good cry in the shower instead. Because her boyfriend ditched her on her favorite day of the year.

♚

2 March 1997

Cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

It’s death by a thousand cuts

~Death by a Thousand Cuts

“I’m sure he’s just on a lot of potions, Lav. I wouldn’t think too much of it.”

Parvati was attempting to comfort her best friend. Lavender had had a rotten weekend. Ron was poisoned yesterday, on his birthday of all days! Not that the day mattered. He was still poisoned, and he could have died!

What did make it worse was that nobody thought to tell her until well into the afternoon. She’d burst into the Hospital Wing to find his best friend, sister, and her sitting vigil at his bedside. Lavender didn’t think she’d ever been so livid in her life. And then he’d croaked something out in his sleep that sounded like a name, but it was not hers.

She felt the entire relationship slipping through her fingers. When did things start to take a turn for the worse? What went wrong? Surely he still fancied her because if he didn’t, then why hadn’t he called things off?

Because he does still fancy you. Of course, he does! Don’t worry about her. She means nothing to him.

Lavender tried with all her might to believe it, but it was becoming harder and harder every day. And despite her best friend’s attempts to make her feel better, it wasn’t doing any good. Parvati wasn’t outside the Hospital Wing with Lav when she overheard Ron talking to Harry and asking for Quidditch magazines. There was no question that he was awake, but as soon as she walked in, Ron ‘magically’ appeared to be sleeping again. And Harry had the audacity to cover for him!

She’d tried to go see him two more times that day, and both times he was ‘sleeping.’ Something happened, and he was avoiding her, and it hurt. But how could she call him out on it when he was ‘asleep’?

She thought about whether she should confide in Parvati or just internalize her feelings. Parvati had been there through everything, but Lavender decided she wasn’t ready to bring up her speculations until she had more proof. So instead, Lavender chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

Did she want to break things off with Ron? No. Was she willing to do what it took to keep him around? Yes. So, Lavender resolved to do whatever it took to keep Ron interested. She’d back off, not be as needy, and keep things cool and breezy. They could make this work. She was sure of it.

♚

2 April 1997

And I don’t want you to (go) I don’t really wanna (fight)

‘Cause nobody’s gonna (win) I just thought you should know

~Miss Americana and the Heart Break Prince

Lavender entered the common room after Divination to see Ron sitting on the couch next to Harry. The two were furiously scribbling on parchment, and Lavender couldn't help but roll her eyes at what she assumed to be a last-minute attempt to finish one of his assignments. Even so, she figured she’d surprise him and see if he could be persuaded to take a break and go for a walk instead.

She dropped her bag behind the sofa and covered Ron’s eyes with her hands. “Guess who!”

“Oi!” Ron flung his arms back, sending ink droplets flying over his and Harry’s parchment, as well as the table and upholstery of the sofa in the process.

Lavender ripped her hands off his eyes and apologized with a pout. “It’s only me, Won-Won. I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh, er, sorry, Lav. I’m busy right now. I need to finish Snape’s Defense essay.”

The words sounded apologetic, but the lack of sympathy in Ron’s expression caused unease to bubble up in Lavender’s stomach. Usually, he’s better about hiding his disinterest in showing affection around his friends. But the way he’d acted just now made her feel like he was downright repulsed by an innocent touch.

“But that essay isn’t due until tomorrow. I still have to put the final touches on mine as well. Maybe we could go for a walk now and work on it together after dinner?”

Sure, the snogging was brilliant, but that’s all they ever seemed to do. She wanted to make things work between them, and after five months, she knew they’d never have a successful relationship if it stayed strictly physical. Besides, that clearly wasn’t working in an effort to keep him interested anymore.

“Sorry, Lav, I can’t. I’ve got rounds tonight.”

Another pang of hurt emanated in her chest at his rejection. “Oh, well, maybe I could work on it with you now, then?”

She knew what his answer was going to be before he said anything. He was already packing up his things.

“Er, maybe on another assignment. I’ve got to hit the library before dinner and see if I can find one more source. I’ll meet up with you later, though, yeah?”

Ron was already out of his seat and headed for the door without bothering to wait for a response, which further solidified Lavender’s suspicion that it was an offer he didn’t intend to follow through on. Ordinarily, she would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but it’d been three weeks of him avoiding her ever since he and Hermione had reconciled. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her bag and headed for the girl’s dormitory, where she passed Hermione on the stairwell.

“Let me guess, Ron’s busy?” Parvati asked, saving Lavender from having to retell the excuse.

“Yeah. He has rounds tonight, I guess.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Hermione has rounds tonight, too. Padma said they switched back for the month.”

Lavender felt as though a fifty-pound weight had been placed on her chest as her heart constricted at Parvati’s news. She knew this was coming but refused to believe it, choosing instead to turn a blind eye to all the signs. A tear escaped out of the corner of her eye as she tried to come to terms with the fact that no matter what she did, Hermione was going to win. Which led her to wonder whether Ron had ever truly been hers at all.

Well, good. If Ron’s not interested anymore, then he can be a man and break things off. And if he’s too much of a coward to do it on his own, then I’ll do everything in my power to help push him along, all while reminding Hermione that he’s still mine in the process.

Maybe it was spiteful, but Lavender no longer cared. Deep down, she knew their relationship was probably doomed from the start, but that didn’t lessen the pain. Perhaps she never stood a chance, especially knowing his relationship with Hermione never was a typical friendship, but Ron could have told her no all those months ago if that was the case. Their fleeting relationship may have come to pass, but at least Lavender had the memories of time spent together to look back on when he had cared. Because he had cared once, right?

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #ron x lavender #implied development of romione #tw: teen heartbreak

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iconic-ponytail · 3 years

Text

there's always money in the banana stand

riverdale promptathon week 3: yellow + business

Even as the sun sets, even as the breeze blows, the hell furnace of July in Riverdale burns on. It’s triply as sweltering inside the tiny booth running three freezers, offloading heat to sustain the frozen merchandise inside. “How can it be so hot in there when we are supposed to be selling frozen bananas?” JB complains, at least twice a week.

She’s twelve. Complaint is her new first language. She complains about being left in Riverdale while Gladys went back to Toledo. She complains about living in a trailer park that usually does not have warm water. She complains about their father being imprisoned for covering up a gruesome murder. But most of all, she complains about working in the banana stand.

Child labor laws aside, Jughead can’t blame her for that one. He hates the damn banana stand, but it’s their best shot.

Gladys’ monthly check covers rent and utilities for the trailer. Everything else is on him, now. The idiot eighteen year old who decided to petition the court to be his sister’s legal guardian. Well, and his idiot mom who signed off on it. So he needs money, and the Jones family has never been particularly flush with cash, just trampled over by FP’s failed “business opportunities.”

Enter: the banana stand.

It’s not the fastest revenue stream, Jughead finds. But it’s got potential.

Initially, Dilton doesn’t let him sell during the Twilight Drive-In’s concession stand hours. Before or after the movie, sure, but no overlap. “I’m not worried about competition, Jones. It’s just too humiliating for me to watch you sweat through that horrible yellow polo you call ‘branding.’”

But when customers asked him more than twice a night when the banana stand would be open, Dilton caved.

It’s not like being open during the screening hours is a whole lot more preferable. He only just transferred from Southside to Riverdale High last spring; now he’s the rising senior who hands out phallic symbols from inside a giant phallic symbol. Not exactly a boon to his popularity.

Still, recently the money is enough to pay the internet bill and keep JB fed for dinner when she can’t go to the summer breakfast and lunch program at the local park district. It’s still not enough for him to eat particularly well, and the smell of hot dogs and slurp of his classmates’ slushies makes the heat feel like a minor inconvenience.

He eyes the tip jar, willing himself to wait on rampaging the concession stand until the beginning of the film roar dies down. It’s a double feature tonight, which means maybe he can score enough cash to cover those damn college application fees his counselor will start hounding him about week one of school.

Then he sees her—Betty Cooper. She’s laughing, watching Archie Andrews try to catch popcorn in his mouth, tossed by his paramour, Veronica Lodge. She pauses to sip from her slushie straw, her lips—which he’s watched argue against homophobic and racist comments in their advanced lit class, or pressed to the cheek of her other best friend, Kevin Keller. Which he’s imagined, doing slightly less savory things, though the mere thought of said imagining has his heart pounding wildly.

(Jughead’s been eating way too many fucking bananas. Someone needs to check his potassium levels.)

His absolutely pathetic gaze, once available three times a day in their shared classes where Jughead has still not managed to exert any confidence whatsoever regarding speech, eye contact, or general acknowledgement of Betty Cooper’s existence other than whatever drooling may or may not be happening, all of which he finds he has no control over… is all interrupted by the absolute polar opposite of Betty Cooper. Hiram Lodge zooms up to the banana stand on his segway, angling to a stop just before taking out the stand’s foundation.

“Still getting a hang of that, Mayor Lodge?”

Hiram grimaces. “Just checking that you’ve renewed your business permit, Jones.”

They do this once a week. It’s still the same permit.

“You know,” Hiram starts as Jughead rustles for the paperwork to make him go the fuck away, “I could find you an arrangement with a better banana supplier. For a discount. If you’re interested.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested in your GMO, black market bananas, Hiram.”

Hiram gives him a pointed look. Jughead rolls his eyes even harder. “Mayor Lodge.” He proffers the papers, Hiram waves them away. “I’ll take one chocolate peanut butter dip. With peanuts.”

Jughead kisses his teeth. “That will be $3.50.”

Hiram’s whole face goes serpentine. “Not between business partners, Jones. Put it on my tab.”

Jughead grits his teeth, handing the finished banana so aggressively he hopes that the chocolate splatters and stains Hiram’s $500 tie. It is only slightly worth it to watch Hiram struggle with navigating the segway one-handed, frozen banana in the other.

He muffles a chuckle before realizing he’s used the dead end of the chopped peanut topping, and exits the stand to update the order board hanging on the outside. It’s mostly an excuse to feel a ten degree drop in temperature, a sweet relief he might be able to extend by grabbing a hot dog before the intermission rush.

He’s crossing off peanuts from the topping list and spinning around when he hears a shriek and a sudden, cold slosh across his chest. The yellow polo drips with artificial blue slushie, but Jughead swallows his fucking hell when he sees that the shriek, gaping stare of horror, and stumble in question all belong to his very own blonde kryptonite.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, jesus, shit, I’m so sorry!”

Jughead is frozen while Betty grabs about half his napkin dispenser and starts pawing at his shirt in a vain attempt to right the giant sticky blue mess all over his chest.

Finally, Jughead swallows the golf ball in his throat and chokes out. “Honestly, it’s fine. That stand is a sauna. I needed that.”

Betty stops, both her blotting and her stream of apologizing (which includes a fair bit of cursing, and he is a little revolted with himself by how much this turns him on).

“It’s going to get very sticky, soon. Maybe I should buy a bottle of cold water?”

Jughead can’t help himself. “Oh, impromptu yellow t-shirt contest?”

Betty grins.

I did that.

“Do you have any employees who could bring you another shirt?”

Jughead shakes his head. “Just my sister. She’s playing video games at home. There’s no earthly way she’ll bring me a spare.”

Betty cocks her head. “I had a feeling you were more than the silent back row kind of guy.”

The fact that Betty Cooper has, at any point, considered what kind of guy he is triggers full-on nervous blathering. “I’m usually very tired at school. I have this little sister—but I’m kind of um, her guardian. So I’m doing this stupid banana stand thing because it’s like one of the three assets to our entire family name I guess? Anyway, it’s hard to engage with Haggly’s basic discussion questions at eight in the morning when you spent the whole night dreaming about wholesale banana margins.”

He’s essentially vomiting words, but Betty is still smiling.

“Anyway, I should crawl back into my fruit-shaped purgatory and let you go back to your friends.”

She’s biting her lip, hedging. “Honestly, they’re probably using the alone time to make out in the car, and I’d rather let them get all their sexual tension out so that I don’t have to feel it radiating off of them for the whole second half of the double feature.”

Jughead laughs and tamps down the impulse to offer her a frozen banana, because he cannot possibly say something like that without making it sound sexual.

“What are frozen banana profit margins like, anyway?” Betty asks, either genuinely interested or legitimately flirting with him. Jughead finds both potentials baffling.

Jughead hesitates, then ducks inside the stand, pulling out his spiral bound notebook. “I’m still kind of figuring it out. All my records are in here.”

Betty sidles up to the stand, taking up the whole window. They’re both leaning over the scribbled line items on college ruled paper; he can smell her shampoo. She takes the notebook, scanning thoroughly.

“Do you have a pencil?”

He hands her one and observes her going to work, writing out some algebraic formula and calculating quickly in her head. There is a calculator within his reach, but he thinks handing it to her might come off as an insult. (Jughead wouldn’t know; he assumes Betty is in an advanced math class. Jughead is not.)

After a few minutes of watching her devoted focus, thinking about her hands touching his pencil, thinking about her hands wrapped around his hand, or his—

“I don’t know how to tell this to you, Jug.”

The shortening of his name stops his heart for a jolt, and his response is embarrassingly delayed. “What is it?”

Betty winces but smiles through it, a combination she’s surely learned to use when delivering bad news. It’s well earned, it really does soften the blow.

“There’s no money in the banana stand. At least, not with these margins.”

Jughead finds himself less than devastated by this news, mostly because it makes a hell of a lot of sense. The messenger doesn’t hurt, either.

“But,” she interrupts. “I don’t know if you’ve nailed down your course load for senior year. But I’m taking AP Econ? This could be, um, a good project. Like, if you want to take the class. Or even if you don’t. Not that you’re like a project or… whatever. I’m just saying we could figure it out. Make lemonade out of… bananas.”

Betty Cooper is extremely cute when she stammers.

Jughead doesn’t know what to do, so he gives her an easy out. “I can’t like, hire you, if that wasn’t obvious by the whole… deficit spending or whatever the whole negative circled number at the bottom of the page really means.”

She flushes. “No, that would be highway robbery. I just thought there might be an… opportunity. For um, us. I mean, for you and I. I mean—” she clears her throat, as if it’s closing up. “An academic opportunity. Or, in your case, professional. Well, a betterment of your livelihood. Okay, um, shit, just… I should go!”

She turns away, her face the deepest scarlet he’s ever seen.

“Betty, wait.”

She pivots back, eyes down at the ground.

“How about I buy you a new slushie and you come back into the booth. Tell me everything I’m doing wrong for the rest of the night.”

Betty looks up, biting the corner of her smile. “Sounds like a deal.”

They shake on it.

#this is unhinged but i had to ok #I HAD TO #riverdalepromptathon #riverdale fanfiction #bughead fanfiction #riverdalepromptathonweek3

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