#‘She would’ve sucked because she was gonna raise taxes’
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thelesbianthespianposts · 6 days ago
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damn trump wins and everyone’s going mask off
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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago
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"My head hurts" - Dot
There were three things Yakko hated most in the world: King Salazar, moving ‘homes’, and winter. 
Yakko’s hatred of Salazar was clear: he was responsible for where they were now. It was his fault they were homeless orphans in a town that was going progressively downhill. He was raising taxes without a thought about what it was doing to the citizens. It drove Yakko insane, especially since this tax went down to the smallest child. Every time they earned just enough money for a new blanket or maybe a warm meal made by someone else for once, it was taken away by that stupid baron Thaddeus Von Plotz. 
It was because of King Salazar that the stores and shops kept shutting down, and reopening just to shut down again.  It made it especially hard for them to find a stable place to live. Just when they’d get settled into an abandoned jewelry shop, policemen would come and tell them to scram and that some other shop that was doomed to fail was replacing it. 
The worst part about changing ‘homes’ was how difficult it clearly was for Dot. Wakko was usually gone during the days, trying to find odd little jobs to do around the town, or hunt for rabbits for them to eat for dinner if they didn’t have money to buy food. Dot, however, was just five years old now. She didn’t have any memories of their parents, or even of the orphanage. Yakko spent his days with her, trying to teach her to read and write with what he had around, or playing her silly games, but with her hanging around “home” so often, she always got just too attached right before they’d have to move again. She always looked so heartbroken as she looked back and said goodbye to the building. 
Winter. 
Yakko hated winter a lot, it was in a close second to King Salazar. It snowed a lot in Acme Falls, and Yakko was thankful they had fur, or else all of them would’ve caught hypothermia by now.
Winter’s were especially hard when they had to move around. Sometimes there weren’t buildings and they’d have to spend the next few days in the alleys. That was when they were practically guaranteed to get sick. It was never too serious, and they were usually just cases of flu that lasted a few days before going away. Yakko had a tendency to be a ‘worry-wart’ in the words of Wakko, which he couldn’t deny. He just... couldn’t afford to lose them. 
“Yakko, when is Wakko coming back?” Dot asked, holding a very worn out rag doll Yakko had gotten her for her third birthday, before the taxing would’ve made it impossible. 
“He’ll be back soon,” Yakko said, as he looked through what food they had left to see if they could have lunch today. Dot frowned a little. 
“Y-yakko my head hurts,” Dot said. 
“Go lay down, I’m sure it’ll go away,” Yakko brushed it off. Dot tended to exaggerate things when she wanted attention. It was probably just from hunger- not that Yakko could blame her, but it was nothing lunch could hopefully fix. 
“Okay... I’ll go lie down,” Dot nodded and went to their bed, which was really just a pile of blankets on the floor, and curled up into a ball. Yakko frowned at that, but shrugged it off again. He really did need to relax more, he always got so wrapped up in his own head, and it never did anyone any good. 
“It’s just because she’s hungry,” He thought to himself. Yakko returned to the food and sighed. Hopefully Wakko could make more than a ha’penny this time because they were running low on bread. 
Still, something was off with Dot today so it was probably best to have at least a little something to settle her over for now. Hopefully, they’d be okay...
Yakko wasn’t surprised when it started to snow outside. He muttered to himself as he got the materials for a fire and set them aside to do later. Hopefully, it wouldn’t snow too much, or else they’d be able to make snowmen with how many holes were in the ceiling. 
“I’m back!” Wakko announced as he re-entered the small building. 
“Took you long enough, what do you have?” Yakko asked. 
“I was lucky and got myself three ha’pennies today,” Wakko beamed with pride. Yakko did his best to be happy as well, but, well- ha’pennies weren’t exactly as valuable as Wakko believed. Still, it could buy them a little more food, which meant Wakko didn’t have to hunt and could play with Dot like she wanted. 
“That’s good Wak. We can buy some more bread with that and have some for dinner,” Yakko said. Wakko nodded happily. 
“Look Dot! I got three- is she okay?” Wakko went to brag to his little sister, but quickly dropped his attitude. 
“Her head hurts, I’m sure it’s just because she’s hungry. She hardly ate yesterday,” Yakko stated. 
“Neither did we and we’re fine,” Wakko frowned. 
“We’re bigger than she is, it means more to her than us,” Yakko sighed and shrugged. That detail did bug him, but he had other things to focus on for the moment. He shivered as he felt the building shake as harsh winds began to mix in with the snow.
For instance, he had a fire to start.. somewhere. 
It was really hard to start fires in places that didn’t have an oven. If it hadn’t been snowing he would have tried outside. Still, he had collected rocks, sticks and had even gotten some firewood and it was cold enough to warrant using it. Even though he hated it most times, he was glad for once the floor was dirt and not wood. 
As he started pilling the wood, he felt his younger brother hovering around him curiously. Yakko chuckled at that. He had been doing that since he could walk; some things never change. 
“If you want to help start the fire, you can just say so Wak,” Yakko grinned. Wakko, not one to be embarrassed easily, beamed, and picked up the stones Yakko had gathered days before and started putting them in a circle around the fire. Yakko didn’t really know why people did that with fires, but it made them look nicer and it made a clear barrier Dot and Wakko knew not to cross.
“Eventually, they had gathered everything around. Yakko grabbed the box of matches they had, and did his best to hide his frown as he realized they only had four left. 
“Better make them count,” He thought, sighing aloud. He of course could’ve tried the old fashioned way, but those fires tended to end poorly, and usually gave the ever impulsive Wakko ideas. It was simply better to use matches. 
Finally, the fire had been lit and Yakko felt himself sigh a breath of relief mixed with tiredness. Who knew it was utterly exhausting to have to raise a five-year-old, and an eight-year-old when you were only eleven-almost-twelve. He grabbed their bag of food and handed Wakko a piece of bread and some grapes before standing up and going to Dot. 
“Hey Dot, we’re eating lunch now and-” Yakko paused when he noticed how damp her fur looked. He looked up and frowned when he saw that there wasn’t a hole above her that would’ve caused snow to fall on her. 
Then she coughed. 
It wasn’t a normal cough, it was loud, it was messy, and it was long. 
“D-dot? Are you okay?” Yakko asked, trying to hide his panic. Dot shivered and clutched the blanket around her tighter. 
Oh god- this was bad. This was really really bad. 
“Wakko, where did you put your ha’pennies?” Yakko asked, turning to him. 
“Right here- what’s wrong with Dot?” Wakko said, his ears lowered in worry. 
“We have to take her to the doctor- Now.” Yakko stated. 
“Now? Is she okay?” Wakko looked much more frightened. Yakko never took them to the doctor for anything unless he felt it was serious (like when Wakko had broken his arm hunting once). 
“Y-yak-” Dot had tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse. Yakko cringed as he picked her up. She suddenly felt a lot lighter than she had before. 
This was really really bad. 
“Don’t say anything Dot, it’s gonna be okay,” Yakko said, stroking her head softly.
However, the universe seemed to be out to prove him wrong as the door swung open and snow and fiercely bitter winds broke into the small place and immediately put the fire out. 
So much for making the most out of that match.
Yakko shook his head, he didn’t have time to focus on that, Dot was sick. Really sick. He needed to get her to a doctor asap. 
“Stay here Wak, it’ll be safer in here than out there,” Yakko said. Wakko shook his head profusely. 
“I wanna go with you. We need to stick together,” Wakko insisted. Yakko looked at him and couldn’t help but be reminded of that night five years ago...
Yakko shook his head to snap himself out of it. “Fine, but hold onto my tail. I can’t lose you in the storm,” Yakko said, and was relieved when Wakko didn’t protest. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath for strength and headed out into the storm for the doctors.
Yakko usually forbade his sibs from walking during a snow storm for very obvious reasons. One, they could get frostbite or hypothermia or just get really cold; Two, the roads were covered in ice and they could easily slip and hurt themselves; and Three, it was just generally a really bad idea. 
That didn’t stop Yakko though. He was on a mission and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t hesitate to take off his own coat and wrap his little sister in it. If it weren’t for the direness of the situation, he would’ve laughed at how it engulfed her. 
He kept marching on. 
The walk was a lot longer than Yakko expected, but with the snow piling up and the weight of carrying his sister and feeling his brother’s pull on his tail, plus the lack of visibility were all making it a whole lot more difficult than it had to be. 
“Yakko! I think you walked past it!” Wakko shouted from behind to be heard over the wind. 
Walked past it? No, he wouldn’t have-
He looked above and noticed they were all the way at the bakery, three buildings over from the doctor’s office. 
“This is what you get for complaining Yakko. Keep this up and she’ll be de-”
No. He couldn’t think like that. He turned around and ran as quickly as he could to the doctors without slipping. He cursed when the stupid door was locked. Wakko tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to step aside. Yakko obeyed and Wakko began banging on the door as hard as he could. 
“Ve are closed can’t you read- Oh. The Warners. Vhat do ve have here?” The familiar doctor puzzled. Ignoring the rude implications, Yakko leaned Dot towards him and the doctor gasped and let them come in immediately. 
Thank goodness the doctor was doing well for himself still because his building was nice and toasty. Doctor Scratnsniff closed and locked the door once more after they got in. 
“Vhat is the matter vis Dot?” He asked, gesturing for Yakko to hand her over. Yakko hesitated but obliged. 
“I don’t know... I-i thought she was just tired because she was hungry but when I checked up on her later she was sweaty, a-and she had a cough. A really bad one,” Yakko said. 
“How far did you walk to come here? It vas very far, no?” He asked as he hurried off to his examination table. Yakko and Wakko followed. 
“Very far,” Wakko said. 
“And in a blizzard nonetheless. You two must really care,” Dr. Scratchnsniff said, checking her vitals. 
Yakko scoffed. Was he daft? He had known them since they had moved to Acme Falls and he was surprised they cared about her? 
“Zis is bad... zis is very bad...” The doctor muttered in hopes that the other two sibs wouldn’t hear, but Yakko heard it clear as day. 
“What’s the matter doc?” Yakko said, sticking his hands in his pant pockets nervously. 
“I’m afraid Dot is very ill-”
“Can you fix her?” Wakko interrupted. Scratchnsniff sighed. 
“I do not know. Zis illness... it comes and goes. To remove it would require surgery which is expensive and dangerous, especially around zis time of year,” He scratched the back of his bald head. 
“N-no... there... there has to be something you can do,” Yakko pleaded. 
“I’m sorry Yakko... there isn’t much I can do except recommend a diet and hope for the best. Like I said, it comes and goes,” He explained. 
“Please, we’ll do anything,” Yakko said. Scratchnsniff sighed. 
“I’ll give you a list,” He said. 
Good. At least the doctor wasn’t that daft and heartless. 
“You kiddies should stay here for the next while though, Dot needs her strength and a warm environment ja?” He said as he went to get a piece of paper. Yakko and Wakko shared a look. 
“We only have three ha’pennies...” Wakko said, looking at the ground. “Will that cover it..?” 
Yakko saw Scratchnsniff pause. 
“Guess he isn’t doing as well as I thought,” Yakko thought. 
“Zat will get you three days, ja? Zat should be enough time for her to regain her strength,” He said. Wakko smiled. 
“Thanks scratchy!” He said, hugging the doctor. 
“You’re very velcome Vakko,” He patted his head, clearly uncomfortable with the gesture but too polite to say otherwise. 
“Yeah, thanks doc,” Yakko said, keeping his distance and walking over to Dot.
“Yeah, thanks doc,” Yakko said, keeping his distance and walking over to Dot.
“Y-yakko...” Dot shivered.
“Shh, it’s gonna be okay Dot,” Yakko said, trying his best not to look overwhelmed with worry.
“Wh-where- wh-when-” Dot looked around wearily.
“It’s okay Dot. We’re at the doctor's. Just get some rest, okay? You’re gonna need your strength,” Yakko said, stroking her head.
“A-am I okay?” Dot asked, looking at him wearily.
“You’ll be okay Dot. Everything is gonna be okay," He said, not really believing it, but he willed himself to look like he believed it for her. It wasn't easy, as she went into another nasty coughing fit. After that, Dot shivered and reached out for his hand wearily. He gave it to her, and she placed it under her cheek and embraced it. Yakko thought he might cry.
"It's gonna be okay, Dot. You're gonna be okay."
"You have to," he silently added.
He couldn't afford to lose her too.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
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leohtttbriar · 4 years ago
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johnny: yeah i didn’t vote in 2016. i don’t vote, you know. i mean, who gives a shit? in this hippie state everything’s already decided, [hiccup] already. not that it matters who’s even running! there’s no difference, you know? hilary or trump or whoever— just a couple of elites in fuckin’ bill gates pocket or whatever. i did see a funny shirt though, once. it said, listen to this, it said, “hilary sucks, but not like monica.” see, that’s funny. and at least trump seems like the kinda guy who you could get a beer with. like he’s got all those hotels and shit but there’s no way he’s drinking any of that shitty ipa shit. biden probably drinks “chilled white wine” or some other bull. anyway, none of it matters, is what i’m saying. you’re gonna get dry-fucked no matter who it is. honestly i would prefer to get dry-fucked by the guys who won’t raise my taxes. and who don’t say pussy shit like “police officer” instead of ”police-man.” like we get it, lady policemen exist and ALL blue lives matter. it’s not that big a deal. it’s just a fucking word. pussies. [sips beer] and i’m not saying that because i’m a sexist, ok? you know who i think would’ve been a great president? sarah palin. i voted for her. man, she was great. bulldog in lipstick—fuckin Hilarious. that’s who we need in the white house, man. someone with a shotgun. not that pussy biden. oh, what? the soviet’s just invaded? and he’s taking a nap?? palin would just shoot them in the face. that’s who we need, man. that’s what this country needs. last i time voted, though. she should run again.
daniel: has anyone ever told you that you would’ve been a manson girl. 
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gerberbabey · 4 years ago
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maybe I'm honestly falling too soon | John B. Routledge
a/n: this is technically a stand alone, but i kinda wish i did a little mini series for the Peterkin!Reader concept...oh well I’ll do that now. love the support for SUMMER, i wish it was better written but I still appreciate ya’ll.
This is technically a reader insert, but I made the reader mixed with Black and Korean. always hashing out WOC representation.
masterlist
summary: You try not to question people’s intelligence. John B saves the day. 
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warnings: like rlly bad writing, underaged drinking, hints of racism and stereotyping, that part is based off of a conversation i overheard but if it’s offensive in any way and if you’d like me to take it out or change it pls let me know
♫ Down to Earth by UMI ♫
You weren’t really known to go out much. Partying with either Kooks or Pogues wasn’t the norm for you considering who your parents were. But even if your mom wasn’t the Sheriff and your dad wasn’t a teacher at Kildare County High, your personality alone wasn’t really the “partying” type. Your friends tended to label you as the “sweet” one, or even the “innocent” one. It didn’t necessarily make you mad per se, it was just a bit annoying that the entirety of your being was labelled based off of the fact that you tended to not do things. 
You didn’t label your friends for the things they did, so you found it odd that they labelled you because of the things you didn’t do. 
“Pleeeaaase (Y/N), John B and his crew throw the best keggers and you’ve only gone to like one!” 
“Nicky, I just...really don’t want to, ok?” you’d been trying to decline Nicky all day. This was the 5th time she’d brought it up today, not to mention the amount of times she’d brought it up this past week. Maybe if it had happened yesterday or even tomorrow you would’ve felt more up to it. Today didn’t feel like a good day to party. At least not to you. 
“(Y/NNNNNN)!” Nicky whined and you only sat patiently as she shook you, “Please just this once? Ok I heard that Kelce’s gonna be there and he usually avoids the Cut! This is the perfect oppurtuntiy for me to get closer to him!” 
You hated that she was using her crush on Kelce against you. You truly wouldn’t say that Nicky was either a Kook or a Pogue (you didn’t even think you were either a Kook or Pogue) but she’d developed a crush on him due to her sudden frequent attendance at the country club with her cousins. She barely spoke to him and barely had the chance to but she insisted that he was a “great guy who just get’s pressured by his asshole friends”. You supported anything Nicky did (lest it get her hurt) and Kelce had only ever been kind to you. 
“Ok...fine,” you sighed and Nicky squeed in excitement. 
“Oh my god yes! Finally!” Nicky cheered and you only rolled your eyes playfully as she tackled you into a hug. 
_____
John B casually strolled through the aisles of the grocery store. He’d been taxed with getting a few snacks to stash in the Twinkie so that they had some food of their own at the party. 
“Relax ok, I just really wants some chips.”
John B perked up at a familiar sounding voice and straightened up as you and your best friend walked around the corner of the aisle. He licked his lips as he gave you a quick look over. You were dressed in your usual aesthetic, a long high waisted skirt, a tank top that was tied to cinch at your waist, large wire framed glasses on the bridge of your nose, and your bouncy curls pushed back with a bandana in your hair.
“Oh, hey John B.” 
John B shook himself out of his stupor and flashed you a wide grin, nodding to Nicky, who only gave him a look of suspicion. 
“Hey (Y/N), what are you doing here?” That question wasn’t too out of place, you lived closer to the bigger grocery store chains than the family owned one’s in the Cut. 
“I just wanted to get some chips, Heyward’s is the only store that has the one’s I like,” you gave him a sweet smile and John B tried not to melt. 
“That’s-That’s really cool,” he stuttered and he licked his lips awkwardly as his eyebrows raised. You blinked at him, the smile on your face twisting a bit in confusion as you glanced at Nicky for a moment before looking to John B again, “I mean sorry-um...Kegger!” John B put up a hand in realization, “We’re gonna have a Kegger tonight at the Boneyard. Will I see you there?” 
“Yeah for sure,” you smiled at him and he gave you that grin that’d always made you think of the sun. You’d always thought John B was cute. Probably more than cute really. He was tall (6 foot maybe?), and his body was built ridiculously...nice for a 16 year old. Plus he was like one of the sweetest guys you’d ever met. 
“Are you gonna be manning the Keg the whole time?” you teased as you grabbed two bags of your favorite chips. Nicky took them from you, looking between you and John b from off to the side. John B scoffed at your comment.
“Nah, I’ll drag JJ to do shifts if he even tries to run away from it,” the last time they threw a Kegger, John B and Pope had been ditched to man the keg. JJ had run off with some touron and Kie was hard to say no to when she insisted it wasn’t her turn. 
“So that means you’ll save me a dance?” you bit at your bottom lip as John B looked at you in surprise. He’d always thought of the two of you as friends, you and your mom were oddly involved in his life but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t going to complain about having people give a shit about him. 
“Yeah...yeah definitely,” John B confirmed and you giggled before waving to him goodbye and leading Nicky away to go pay for your chips. John B stared at where you were standing just a second ago before he turned to watch you over his shoulder. He barely caught Nicky shaking you by the arm before the two of you disappeared around the corner of the aisle. 
________
“Is that...(Y/N)?” Pope asked, passing some random Touron a filled red solo cup. John B looked up from where he was filling up a Kook’s cup and turned to where Pope was pointing. It was indeed you. You were standing in group with a few Kooks. Nicky was standing close to Kelce, the two of them seemingly in their own world and you were stuck interacting with Topper, Rafe, and some other Kook guys he didn’t recognize. 
“Yeah,” John B confirmed and Pope glanced at him for a moment before turning his attention back to you. 
“She looks like she’s having a great time,” Pope pointed out sarcastically and John B straightened up. Pope was right, and even from this far away he could tell. You had a perplexed look you on your face as you listened to one of the ook boys talk and your body language was closed off. You had your arms wrapped around yourself and you were switching the weight of your feet back and forth. 
“Maybe you should go save her?” Pope suggested and John B turned to him. 
“Nah, nah she’s probably fine,” John B shook his head, reaching for the eg hose once again. Pope snatched it out of his hands. 
“C’mon John B, you really wanna risk that?”  Pope stated matter of factly and he cringed as he looked back to you. You looked more and more uncomfortable by the second. 
“Alright...” John B dusted his hands off on his swim trunks and began to weave through the crowd to get to you, leaving behind a grinning Pope. 
Across the way, you were trying your best not to let much show on your face but you couldn’t help but cringe at everything this guy was saying. You were pretty sure he had done a line of something (probably supplied by Rafe) but you were beginning to think you should definitely put yourself in a safer environment. You hadn’t been the most bothered by Topper or Rafe, they were usually polite to you, but when three more Kooks stepped up to you, you were left to deal with five Kooks who were all under some type of influence while Nicky talked with Kelce. 
“Y’know, you have like really nice eyes,” one of the kooks pointed to you and you smiled. 
“Oh thank you-”
“They’re like real narrow. Do you put like make up on?” That threw you off guard and your mouth drpped open in shock at the question. Topper hit the boy in the chest and the Kook shot him a look of confusion, “What man?”
“Dude you can’t say that shit,” Rafe laughed and you were uncomfortable with the idea that he found it funny for a different reason other then idiocy. 
“What she’s got like real narrow eyes. So what how do you do that?” 
“Well um-” you stammered, “I’m just...Asian?” 
“Wait you’re Asian?” one of the other boys cried out, “I thought you were black?” 
Rafe snorted at that and you could feel the discomfort in your chest increase. 
“I-I am black. My mom’s black and my dad’s Korean...” you explained. Your cheeks burned and your palms were clammy due to your nerves. 
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry...” the first boy laughed, “Wait, I swear I’m not racist or anything. You’re gorgeous.” 
You wondered how your beauty had anything to do with his questions about your race. 
“Like, my sister’s just always talking about like fox eyes or whatever and she’d probably love to have eyes like yours.”
You sucked in a breath at that. Could this guy be anymore cluelessly offensive? At this point you were beginning to question his intelligence altogether. But you weren’t a confrontational person and the thought of calling him out on his bullshit terrified you. You also definitely weren’t in a position to act brave. 
“Uh hey! (Y/N)?” you turned in shock and almost cried out in relief at the sight of John B calling you. 
“What do you want Pogue?” Rafe hissed out and you looked up at him before rushing over to John B. 
“Oh hey John B, I was actually looking for you, sorry guys,” you barely turned to look back at the circle of Kooks before you were leading John B away by the hand, completely ignoring Rafe’s calls. 
When you were a good ways away, and a little closer to where the keg was, you stopped and put a hand on your chest. you let out a laugh of disbelief as you looked up at John B. He looked down at you in confusion, your fingers still intertwined with his.
“Jeez you seriously saved me,” you breathed and John B’s eyebrows raised. 
“Were they doing something-” he looked back over to the boys but you only waved it off. 
“No no, one of them was just...making me lose brain cells,” you laughed, though John B could tell see the discomfort on your face. 
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” John B pointed out and you only scoffed. 
“I’m used to it at this point,” John B wondered what “it” was. 
“Hey (Y/N)! What’s up?” the two of you turned to Kie as the girl walked up to you, a wide grin brightening her expression. 
“Nothing much just, being a damsel in distress,” you looked up at John B with a teasing smile and he rolled his eyes. 
“I literally only called your name,” he recalled and you laughed. 
“And that saved me, the damsel, from my distress!” you reassured. 
Kie chuckled despite her confusion. She gave a pointed smile at your guys’s hands but the two of you were too distracted by one another. Kie wondered when John B was finally gonna tell you he liked you. 
“You guys are real cute,” Kie laughed and the two of you looked at her with wide eyes. Kie regretted opening her mouth as John B realized the two of you were still holding hands. He quickly pulled his hands out of yours, wiping his sweaty palms onto his shorts. You looked a little disheartened as your hands came forward to fidget on the knot of your shirt. 
“Nevermind,” Kie mumbled. She shook her ehad before walking away from the two of you to go help Pope with the Keg. You watched her walk away, the tips of your ears feeling hot. 
Your fingers fidgeted with one another as you looked up at John B from the corner of your eye.
“So um...” John B turned to you, “I think you owe me a dance?” you smiled and a smile began to stretch across his face. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes were smiling too and the stretch of his cheeks caused his freckles to shift. 
“Would you like to dance?” John B questioned you and you pretended to think. 
“Hmm I don’t know, the guy who’s asking me to dance is being kinda...dry about it,” you pretended to cringe and John B rolled his eyes. 
He stepped back away from you and turned you so that two of you were facing one another rather than standing side by side. He held out a hand and you glanced between it and his expression. You tilted your head giving him raised brows and he laughed before getting down onto one knee. He put one arm behind his back and offered a hand out to you as you laughed at his antics. 
“Lady (Y/N) may I please have this dance?” he asked loudly and a few people chuckled as they watched him. You looked away, your cheeks burning as you tried to stop yourself from geeking out. You looked back at him again, biting at your cheek as you placed a hand into his. 
“Why of course,” you confirmed and John B hopped up to his feet before leading you into the middle of the dancing bodies. You weren’t to sure what song was playing but the bass was loud and the energy was high in that medium sized pocket of dancing people. 
You made a graceful turn, John B’s hand still in yours, and pressed your back up against John B’s front. The two of you swayed to the beat of the song as John B let go of your hand to put his hands on your skirt clad hips. He pressed himself close to you and you threw your curls over to your right side so he could lean his face down close to yours. 
The two of you grinned at each other as the song moved your body for you. 
“Those two are...definitely in love,” Pope pointed out, taking a sip from his drink. 
“Absolutely,” Kie nodded as she copied Pope’s actions. 
The two of them ignored JJ’s whines about the keg as they watched you and John B dance. 
will this be a series? who knows.....
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nozomijoestar · 6 years ago
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 I had an idea for Violentine eventually getting married and because society as we know it has been dead so long they just get creative about the whole thing
Also time jump from the end of the game and Texas Two is now Big, AJ is a preteen, Clem and the older of the former kids can now pay their taxes if those were still a thing
BGM if you like that when you read, lyrics here
“Been a while huh Tenn? Everything’s so busy these days I haven’t had the time. I’m sorry.”
She sat cross-legged on the partly overgrown ground. A small wreath of fresh flowers hung from the top of a cross. The wood was faded and weather-beaten, but the name carved there could never leave her memory.  From her pocket she pulled a paper, unfolded it, then placed it. Violet sighed, even her smile seemed exhausted. Her eyes threatened to brim over with tears she thought she’d long left behind.
“AJ made that for you. He’s gotten a lot better at drawing you’d probably love it. He’s a little past your age now. Shit I’m, I’m taking too long to get to the point aren’t I?”
The breeze picked up making the trees rustle as though they communicated the will of ghosts. She looked around. The crosses had multiplied through the years, each one a new nick on her heart. She chewed her lip and fiddled with her bun. Now wasn’t the time for death. Her stomach churned butterflies. A genuine smile bled into her voice.
“I wanna ask Clem to marry me. Just saying it out loud feels weird and amazing all at once. I honestly didn’t think she’d want me this long but life kept happening.”
In one motion she laid spread eagle and stared into the pink clouds that signaled dusk. She closed her eyes as another sigh fell from the trees. The sound of people beyond the graveyard drifted in voices, laughter, and song. Though the years since there’d been largely silence were gone she could never shake a need to be prepared. Even if the walls had expanded far past the former Ericson gates, danger never slept. It was something Clementine loved to reinforce. 
The thought of the way her face went stern and her voice deepened made Violet chuckle. She rose to her feet and dusted herself.
“I should get a move on. It was great talking to you again.”
After a final readjustment of the wreath she passed through the yard. A flag decorated with many stitches flapped in the wind reading ‘Texas Two’. Sometimes she looked up at it and still laughed at its ridiculousness. Though since she’d been responsible for it, that was the same as laughing at her old self. Her old self, she pondered, the Violet who hadn’t dared to entertain the thoughts she did now. When had that person changed? She didn’t think she’d ever know.
Inside the old admin building echoed a section of Chopin’s ‘Winter Wind’ in A minor. The anxious dance her nerves were doing calmed. Louis would be finished teaching piano lessons for the day. Her stride became confident. If she was going to make a sappy fool of herself it would be out of public view. Of her old mannerisms she could at least keep that one. 
He sat continuing to play though he knew she’d come by the pattern of her gait. His lack of a tongue elevated a need to pay notice to the finer things in other ways. She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms. They carried on in silence. Violet closed her eyes again, taken by her imagination. The shrieking highs and nervous lows seemed to pull every worry she’d ever had like threads off a loom. 
She saw Clem’s head bashed open like a ripe fruit, or the paling of her bite ridden skin and its missing chunks. Right behind it came the thought of AJ’s neck dyed red as he took Tenn’s place at the bottom of a herd and picked clean. Their home at the bottom of smoldering ashes. Worst of all above the extremes, she would bare her soul for Clem greater than she already had to see her spirit fall. In one moment for some reason or other everything they’d made of love would fracture, and Violet might as well quit the venture entirely. 
As if reading the tone of her thoughts the music stopped. Her eyes reopened to find Louis scribbling on a scavenged notepad. With a grin he turned it to face her. His eyes twinkled with their unquenchable charm.
‘That get your attention?’
She tucked her raw feelings back into their cage. The processed version rolled off her tongue.
“A little too hard Lou. Guess that means you’ve graduated from sucking.”
She finished with a soft laugh seeing him flip her off. The way he wiggled his eyebrows told her he found it funny. He gestured for her to come over and made room on the piano seat. She sat with her hands folded and stared nervously into her lap. Her stomach churned while the words she wanted to find were slow to come. At the touch of his hand on her shoulder she shook her head.
“It’s nothing bad I’m only overthinking again. I just...tonight I’m gonna propose. I want to. What do you think?”
He smiled and stared wide eyed filled with glee. A rush of air she guessed equated to a gasp came as he clapped. It made her blush and seem sheepish curling into herself. The sound of Louis scribbling excitedly refocused her attention.
‘About damn time! I almost thought you’d never bring it up. My advice, take her to a spot important to you guys. Get her thinking about all the deep stuff you’ve done together. If you’re really feeling it serenade her. That’s what I’d do.’
“I want her taking me seriously not laughing her ass off. By now my singing’s gotta be shitty.”
‘Oh come on Vi, live a little. Singing or not the point is you may never do this again. Make it a memory. You two were doing just that all this time anyway.’
Violet sighed and rested her forehead against the piano, defeated. The keys she pressed let out a wail. Another note was put before her.
‘Don’t sulk tell her how you feel. Clem’s gonna love you more than she already does.’
“...How do you know she won’t say no?”
He cocked his head and interrogated her with a bewildered stare. Her stomach sank; her voice had been whiny like a child’s. In the end, she was being silly. It made the confidence she’d mustered drop in shame.
‘We don’t know Vi but if she’s stuck around this long it means something. Clem’s the kind of girl to take off if she really didn’t believe in what she sees.’
She groaned and the keys played an ugly sound. 
“You’re right. I’m being a coward. I fucking hate it. I thought that side of me was done with.”
‘It’s ok to be scared. This is a big deal! You know how you’re guaranteed to fuck it up though? Having a negative attitude. Positive vibes Vi, positive.’
“Yeah yeah. You’ve given me an idea. If you see her tell her to come to the bell tower tonight. That it’s urgent.” She said with a lazy smile.
They bid each other goodbye leaving Louis to start up the piano solo of Kreisler’s ‘Liebesleid’. He’d reached halfway using a laser-focused concentration when another, larger presence filled the door. His deft hands stopped. Clementine smiled and clapped as she walked towards him. Without a moment to waste he ripped out the used pages of his notepad; they were stuffed into his coat pocket. It didn’t go unnoticed when Clem raised an eyebrow but gave no comment. 
She stood balancing her weight on her natural leg and leaning against the piano. Were she anyone else, even Violet, Louis would’ve sooner scolded her for lacking manners. He looked down to find her prosthetic ( a newly improved design of Willy’s built with higher mobility in mind ) still in good condition. 
“Caught ya.” She said giggling.
He looked up at her strong face, thick eyebrows, and overwhelming mane of curly hair. She had a stern beauty that always caught him by surprise for its rarity and strength. Violet sure knew how to pick ‘em. 
‘Wanted to make sure your foot was ok. Doubt Willy would screw it up but still y’know?’
“Thanks. Listen Louis...are you free for a little while? There’s something I wanna talk about. I want your honest opinion.”
A glint in his eyes betrayed his excitement. His gut instinct gave him an inkling of what hovered unsaid. He almost laughed at the coincidence of it all. She slowly sat at his invitation and fiddled the keys. After a meandering pause she cleared her throat; he wore a grin.
“You know Violet and I have been together a while now. Longer actually than I ever thought possible. I’m grateful for it everyday. It’s sadly not something a lot of people can say. That’s why...I don’t know if this is still the right word but, I want her to be my wife.”
She stared at him and twiddled her thumbs. Rarely had he seen her hesitate, much less be meek. The sight made him sit up straighter, listen harder. From the corner of her eye she caught his expectant stare. 
“I guess regardless of what it’d be called these days that’s what I want. She’s too important for me to lose. It’s time she really knows it and how I feel.”
For a moment she gauged his face for the slightest reaction. The intensity radiating as if a conjured aura from her body reminded him of someone constipated; he again fought a laugh. It was as though she resigned herself to a do or die mission. A determination not a far cry from what she summoned up before a supply run. In his opinion, they both were taking this to lengths so ridiculous it bordered on comical. That however would remain a secret.
He nodded with enthusiasm and that seemed to lighten her worry. On his notepad this time he thought hard before writing. 
‘It can mean whatever you want it to Clem. You love her, that’s the most important part. I say go for it. Any plans on how you’ll ask?’
“Well there’s really only one way right? I have to tell her outright, just not sure where to do it.”
‘Y’know she asked to meet with you tonight on the bell tower. There couldn’t be a better spot if you ask me.’
“Did she? That makes this easier.”
She sighed in relief and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I love her Louis. More than she might know.”
‘Tell her not me.’ he said with a smile.
After dinner the night air blew warm embracing the essence of summer. Clementine found Violet pacing in front of the ladder they’d once helped construct. She remembered seeing her like this then too, anxious over everything turning out right. Her suspicion turned on and her eyes narrowed in concern. She had yet to be noticed from a distance. 
In seconds that weighed like minutes she sighed and mumbled to herself. 
“Alright Clementine all you have to do is talk. Sure Clementine, like it’s that simple. You’re stalling now. Get yourself together.”
“You sure don’t mind keeping a girl waiting.”
Violet’s voice seized her attention from the grasping hands of her thoughts. Before she could say another word laughter filled the silence. It made her blush even as she frowned in mock irritation. 
“I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“I wouldn’t have if we weren’t the only ones here. Feelin ok?”
“Yeah just was wondering what’s on your mind to have us meet at this place.”
She smiled feeling a kiss on her cheek. Violet wore the look that always came when an idea longed to burst out before it drove her mad. Clementine slowly trailed her eyes up and down as though they were meeting for the first time anew. The demure air in her posture broke the obscuring fog of Clementine’s own nerves. Her expression softened into a look of curious wonder. 
The streaks of moonlight cast across Violet’s face bent her grin toward the mysterious. She ran her thumb over Clementine’s knuckles and gestured at the ladder. 
“Come with me and you’ll find out.”
Above them the stars filled the horizon into an infinity none would ever measure. The moon aided their brightness and bathed all it touched in an ethereal glow. The ground beneath her feet shined as though she walked on a river of silver; as though she were weightless. A breeze carrying the scent of flowers and wood-smoke, of life below, rustled Violet’s hair. Clementine felt her heart thud louder. 
The bell tower had remained untouched through the years save for a few new cracks and crumbling bricks. Vines entangled a section of broken stone railing, the same as the first night they’d sat together. She dared to imagine the ghosts of their old selves caught in a roller-coaster of teenage emotions; each burning more intensely than the last into love. They stopped and leaned against the railing beside the spot. 
They were gazing at the sky when Violet spoke first; her thoughts tumbled from her like a waterfall. A part of Clementine was relieved. 
“So uh, Clem, I wanna be real honest with you. These past seven years went by so fast some days it feels like my head’s spinning keeping track. All this below us? All these people? If you’d told me before we’d be dealing with this I’d have called you crazy. Hell, if you’d told me there’d be a time where I could have nights not having to worry something would break into the school, I’d never believe it.”
She took a break to breathe and look over the dozens of smaller lights in varying buildings that stretched into the pushed back treeline. Each one signified a condensed hope and dream from those it kept warm. Their numbers lifted Violet’s spirit to continue. Clementine stood mesmerized, her eyes trained to Violet and Violet alone. It was as though each word revealed a deeper truth than the last.
“We wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. I know you can say it was a group effort, it’d be true, but you’re our motivation. I don’t think I’d be half the person I am today if I hadn’t met you and AJ. Point is...remember when I said once I couldn’t imagine life without you?”
“...Of course. It took me completely by surprise.”
“I still feel that way. Clem, I want you in my life till it ends someday.”
The breeze stirred into a mild wind as Clementine’s eyes widened softly. She stumbled to speak then went silent when Violet leaned closer. Her entire body pleaded a need for recognition, as if another chance would never come again.
“Marry me.”
Without hesitation Clementine pulled her into an embrace as their lips met. Her hands wandered to cup Violet’s face and not let go. They pressed together and sunk slowly to their knees. When at last they separated neither cared if anyone below had seen. Violet’s eyes shut in bliss feeling a gentle stroke on her chin and kisses peppering her face. There came a whisper on the verge of tears into her ear when Clementine hugged her tighter.
“You beat me to it you ass.”
“Heh, I can still keep you guessing.”
“Troublemaker.” came the reply with a grin.
AJ stood watching Ruby arrange bundles of wildflowers with the same care she gave all things. Though only twelve he’d nearly reached her height. He’d lost some inches shortening his hair to a buzz cut hidden beneath Clementine’s faded baseball cap. It was something he continued to be reminded of when Ruby’s motherly presence loomed so large. 
“Hey there shorty could ya give me a hand? These bouquets can get real messy.”
“Sure, but it’s Alvin Junior.”
“I know I know. Reminding me ain’t gonna help us no faster. I’ll tell Clem if you do good.” 
That made the hint of sourness in his expression bloom into an excited smile. Around them a small team of five busied themselves with the same task. They moved as Ruby directed to arrange each in a circle open only at the northern and southern sides. A myriad of colors blue, white, orange and so on occupied the center of the restored sports field. AJ sweated hoisting another bundle for the ring and nearly dropped it. Wordlessly Ruby caught it before it hit the ground and with that the last of it lay in place. 
They stepped back performing a final check several times until Ruby proved satisfied. On a clear spot amidst the flurry of activity around them (an army of chefs led by Omar; Willy’s team arranged benches) AJ rested. A sheen of sweat covered his face and exhausted eyes. The first clue he’d received for what lay ahead came when Louis slipped him a note and a wink at breakfast one morning. ‘Congrats on the new mom kid!’ he hadn’t understood what it meant; a part of him still felt he didn’t even when Clementine explained that no, weddings weren’t something you ate. 
As he felt the day’s work burn in his muscles he concluded whatever it looked like had to be worth the aches. He spotted Aasim approaching with a squirming bundle in his arms; AJ sprung to his feet. Every lecture he’d ever received on slacking echoed in his mind in unison. Aasim towered over AJ’s stature exuding an almost regal air were it not for the slight gruffness of his beard. In his shadow AJ straightened himself and stifled a laugh when a baby’s hand swatted his chin. His stare spoke of a sense of urgency matched in his baritone voice.
“Have you seen Ruby around AJ? It’ll be her turn to look after Susanna during the ceremony. Seems like that’ll start any minute now.”
“We worked on the flowers together but after that I’m not sure. Maybe she went to check on Clem and Vi-”
“The brides are ready Aasim, just had to go fetch ‘em after their fittins’.”
From behind them Ruby appeared with a blushing Clementine and Violet in tow. She pressed a kiss to Aasim’s cheek before reaching for the baby. 
“Guess everything’s ready. I’d have come sooner but we had to finish cataloging that cache of recovered books in the library.”
“It’s alright I’ve got her, you just focus on those two. Lord knows they’re eager to get started and I don’t blame ‘em.”
Susanna piped up in her mother’s arms and stretched a hand toward Clementine.
“Ba!”
“Hey there Susie you doing ok?” Clementine cooed as she let her nose be patted.
“Guuu-ba!”
“Looks like you’ve got a way with kids that aren’t AJ too.” 
“Well Vi she’s not Auntie Clem for nuthin’. Go on and say bye to Auntie Clem and Violet, Susanna.”
“Baaba.”
They waved in parting as Ruby left for the quickly filling crowd. Dozens well over a hundred sat chatting among themselves; more than a few stole curious glances to center stage. A hundred and so on more joined soon after. Clementine felt Violet graze her arm and gesture at a dazzled AJ. His eyes held awe that grew when Clementine pet his head. 
“Ruby told me you were a real help goofball. I appreciate it.”
“You guys...you both look amazing...”
“Thanks kid. The rest of it’ll blow your mind if you stick around and watch.”
Without needing to be told further AJ nodded and made way for the benches; he looked back only once wearing an encouraging smile. The field was bare save for its key players, and the crowd fell into silence. Aasim signaled to take places then addressed those seated with a wave of his arms. Clementine and Violet stared at one another on opposite ends of the ring; Clementine’s grin made Violet blush and stare at her feet.
“Good afternoon everyone! We’re here today to witness the ceremony of a union; one long in waiting. This couple wishes to affirm their love for one another through a promise of lifelong devotion. You may both enter the ring.”
They obeyed having eyes only for each other; it formed a safety net against the pressure of so many others upon them. Softly Violet mouthed “It’s ok.”
“We’ll begin the professions of love. Clementine you may start.”
She cleared her throat and traced over every inch of Violet, of her flowing hair and single braid that whipped up from the back of her tunic in the breeze. The blue fabric lined with white threaded patterns complimented her pale green eyes. A crown of flowers adorned her head. Every detail was memorized.
“For as long as we’ve known each other you’ve supported me; even if you took time to open up. There’re so many moments, so many close calls where I’d never have made it out if it weren’t for you. Each day makes me feel more alive than the last. Not just because of our friends, or because of all we’ve done, being able to know you’re there is enough. I dedicate this dance to your affection.”
Slowly she took a step forward then pivoted into a practiced twirl. A dance of passion sent her traveling about their arena. Sweat flew from her brow and splattered in places on her belt’s spinning tassels. One misplaced step threatened to topple her but slyly she recovered before worry could disturb Violet. 
With a grin she launched into a new phase. Her arms spun and, where able, her legs kicked. The movements blended so fluidly few could pinpoint the moment aggression gave way to softness. To even fewer it revealed its heart; a reflection of her lover’s metamorphosis. 
There were moves describing sarcastic defenses, cowardly silences, sections mapping the rush from kind words and intimate quiet. As if anew they were pulled into the haze of honest kisses, the whirlwind of lovemaking that went deep into sleepless nights. On occasion they were plunged headfirst before icy fear and protective worry that pricked to the bone. Those moments would be quickly broken by a return to memories of the warmth in living.
Almost instinctively the full result of a week’s practice strengthened its control as she neared the end. Her mind sank into an empty plane, speaking only what little remained unsaid through her rhythm. When it was done the sight of Violet brimming with tears told her everything. Wordlessly she gathered herself then bowed.
Aasim stood in entranced silence. The edges of his solemn eyes had grown misty, defying his self restraint. He gestured and caught Violet’s attention away from her thoughts.
“Feelings have been expressed that require an answer. Violet, you may give your reply.”
“I’ve heard them. Clementine you taught me it’s alright to feel; that holding everything in and running from help is what makes a coward. Choosing who I want to be in life by learning from others is a gift that takes courage. You kept trying even when I wanted to shut you out. I’d never seen anyone so dedicated. Because of you I remembered the people who care about me, away from the ghosts I wanted to chase. I dedicate this dance to your strength.”
This time the was an elegant start defined by tight turns and precise footwork. Each move linked firmly to the last and the next. Clementine’s chest tightened as she watched; her breath caught in her throat. Within the dance she felt herself be peeled back. There was the Clementine she saw herself as, steel willed and cautious, in places fragmented. It morphed to show the rare moments of worry and the storms that wracked her in anxiety. In a few moments that still churned her stomach she felt a lurking shadow of the cruelty that’d tumbled so easily from her whenever she’d been cast astray. 
Her body grew hot, her shoulders heavy before she saw the dance shift and the feeling passed. There was a return to gentleness and the power in mercy. Like glittering bubbles memories flooded her mind fresh as they days they’d been reality. She’d cried and screamed and torn her hair each time someone had been lost; yet she pressed forward hopeful. She’d witnessed distrust seize people’s eyes as they coveted rather than strive for understanding; yet never closed her ears to humanity. She’d cried awake sunken to the floor and teeth grit replaying each life she’d taken, each selfish need she’d served; yet her remorse was proof she retained a soul. 
Tears trickled down her face, and she felt not a care to stop them. The sensations of the present returned only when Violet had finished. In an instant that moved in her vision like slow motion she was embraced. Aasim’s voice grounded her beyond the sensation of Violet’s heart beating in time with her own. 
“We have witnessed them speak to each other’s deepest self. In this they have found unity, and taken hold of that which they seek for themselves in another. It is time for the final step. Let them now dance together and display the bond when two become one. Music for them, if you’d all please.”
Clementine felt Violet shift against her the crowd clapped a beat. 
“You ready?”
“Yes.”
They took up position smiling through their flushed faces. The dance moved slow and contemplative as if longing to savor each moment. All else began to fade replaced by a rhythm that held a peaceful trance. Neither kept track of how long they swayed until Clementine said,
“Why don’t we show them what we’ve got?”
“Ready when you are partner.” Violet replied grinning.
In one motion they separated still holding on by one hand, throwing themselves into a spin that ended in a twirl. Violet laughed finding herself again in Clementine’s arms then out once more. She took her turn twirling Clementine, her eyes sparkling and heard racing. They spun holding each other then separated to link arms each facing the other’s back but continuing to lock eyes. It prefaced another separation as they spun alone only to jump back together. At this they laughed.
Violet’s vision was filled by the bright sky when Clementine dipped her then leaned close. Violet wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed their foreheads together.
“I love you.”
“Love you back.”
“Promise?”
“Hell yeah.”
Their kiss found Clementine with hands roaming her hair but she didn’t care. A ways away the roar of the crowd filled their ears. Beside them Aasim clapped and wiped his face. He turned one last time to project his proud voice.
“I present to you all a married Clementine and Violet! May they have a happy life together.”
“That better not have jinxed anything Aasim.” Violet teased with a snicker.
“Shut it and go have fun with your wife. You guys deserve it.”
“Thanks for all this, really.”
“Keep treating her right Clem.” he replied smiling.
The after party blew quickly into a spectacle. Louis had attracted a cheerful gathering as he played pieces back to back. Clusters of people filled the admin building to the seams; further groups had piled into the school yard. The campus in its entirety lay at the heart of town from which hundreds of simple houses, storage, and shops fanned out. The multitude of guests had been guaranteed with more passing colorful banners AJ had overseen. 
A few carried weathered but functioning instruments, guitars, harmonicas, large and small drums. They formed a small band that led the tune of those dancing in the yard. A sizable banquet had been prepared from their surplus; beside Ruby chatted with Aasim while Susanna sucked on her bottle. From the balcony at the admin building’s face Clementine stood observing. Out of her regal wedding attire she nearly blended into the revelry were it not for her commanding presence. 
Any tension soon melted from her when she felt Violet’s arms around her waist. She smiled and leaned into the nuzzle against her neck. 
“How’s it feel? Thinking of anything?”
“I was wondering how things are closer to the wall and that group we sent out a day ago.”
“You mean Randy.”
“None of us can afford him screwing up. He’s been very...vocal lately. It’s giving me bad thoughts.”
“Hey none of that ok? Today’s our day to celebrate, we can worry about later when it comes.”
Clementine closed her eyes and pressed their foreheads together. 
“Where’s AJ?”
“With the other kids. Us grown ups are too intense for him right now. I don’t blame him, he seemed happy though.”
“I can think of one reason to justify that.” Clementine teased in a husky voice, her hand wandering below Violet’s waist.
“Clem not while everyone’s around.” came the reply followed by a giggle.
“Just teasing. We can go over it all later.”
“In that case you’ve got my interest.”
“Really? How about something like this to start.”
She pulled Violet closer and leaned her back against the railing. She studied the way Violet tilted her head as their lips met; saw the beauty in how her hair framed her face. Slowly she traced her fingers along her jaw, welcoming the feel of Violet grabbing a fistful of her shirt. They broke off at the whistles thrown at them from below. One glare and eye roll from Clementine silenced them. Violet chuckled. Her arms wrapped lazily around Clementine’s neck. 
“I’ll never forget today.”
“I hope not. If you ever do I’ll remind you.”
“Heheh, yeah.”
The music and chatter came to a sudden halt with a banging at the yard’s iron gates. Shocked dancers parted a pathway for a team in neat ranks, their boots marching in step. A man with a thick trimmed beard and thicker hair led them and adjusted the grip of his spear. It had a long curved edge akin to a beast fang and tassels that jiggled in time with the pistol on his belt. The well kept armor he wore, decorated in the motif of a cougar as his rank allowed, enhanced his bulk. His burly arms were defined by gnarled scars that betrayed his continued Old World hobby of rigorous exercise. 
He signaled a stop by raising his fist and was immediately obeyed. His beady eyes stared at Clementine without faltering. She read the challenge within them clearly and stood stiff backed,unwavering. From the crowd she felt multitudes looking to her in surprise that yielded to fear. Beside her Violet’s expression hardened and simmered with open disgust. The man spoke, his voice embed by a natural cunning.
“We’ve returned from our expedition with a generous offering from the community to the west.”
“Welcome back, I trust everything went well along with it.”
“Yes, yes of course. Nice to see we’ve been missed.” he said letting a sarcastic bite slip into his tone as he looked around.
“C’mon Randy we can talk about this anywhere but in front of everyone. There’s no need to put on some kind of show.” Violet added. 
His eyes studied her in frayed patience then flit back to Clementine. He made a gesture and his group dispersed.
“Sure I can be civil and play house with those wearing the big pants. Let’s have a private chat.”
He disappeared into the admin building. Clementine sighed deeply and let herself slacken. Tenderly Violet touched her hand, she took it without hesitation. She stared into the sky gathering herself until at last all her courage was summoned. With a nod she followed Violet’s lead into her office, something more animal than man fast approaching.
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unst242group2 · 4 years ago
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(1/8) “I had a lot of people asking me how they could be stronger allies or accomplices for the marginalized communities and particularly the black community, because I have built quite a platform through hip hop. I’m a hip hop artist, I play in a six piece funk hip hop band called Speaker Minds, and I do solo music with a DJ, and I’ve been doing that for my entire adult life. My music often talks about social justice and injustices, citizens, community outreach, and uplifting, things like that. I’ve done a lot of philanthropy work in my day, a lot of culturally specific jobs where I’ve been like a mentor for black and brown youth on probation. I worked as a student advocate for low income young adults, just with a lot of those communities. So people got to know me as that. And so they reached out and I also go to PSU right now. I’m finishing my bachelor’s in Black Studies and Social Science. I’ve learned a lot about a lot of the oppressive, exclusionary ways of Oregon and the nation. So I thought it would be a good idea. When people ask me how they can help, I said, ‘look, you gotta share your resources. Especially if you come from privilege and you have benefited from exclusionary practices, so share your wealth’. Then the idea to repair homes came from the fact that I grew up in Portland, I'm a native, I grew up in Northeast Portland, so I watched the neighborhoods change. Now that I have an idea of why that's happened, I realized, a way that we could really help is by getting some of these repairs done, for the homeowners that still have survived gentrification. That will keep the city off their back. Because a lot of the ways displacement happens is white people move into these neighborhoods and then they start complaining about Black people's houses, not looking adequate enough for their standards. And then the city comes out and puts lines on their homes and stuff. So this is a good way to combat gentrification in that way.”
(2/8) “I had no idea it was going to take off like it did. I thought it was gonna just be maybe a couple of homes. Well, when I started there, I was very naive. Cause I'm not from the housing world. I was a renter at the time. I didn't know the capacity. I thought we would just get a bunch of volunteers together and find some materials and start swinging hammers at homes and try to make them look better. But there's a lot more to it than that. And a lot of people were like, ‘well, , I don't really want to come out and help, especially with the pandemic, but here's some money to put towards it’, and it just took off after the first house. We were able to do quite a bit of repairs and then another house came in and then just words got out and then the news started getting a hold of it. I did a bunch of news interviews and then that was when it really took off. I was not expecting this kind of response at all. I think people liked that I started it guerrilla style because I wasn't waiting to get through all the red tape. I've been on enough committees and been in enough groups that I know that red tape can take years to get through. So I was like, send me your money and I'll put it towards the house and I'll deal with Uncle Sam later. I would've never imagined how big this got and how fast and it's still going strong.”
(3/8) “Right now, we're not really encouraging volunteers unless you're licensed, bonded and insured. We got over 400 volunteers signed up and we don’t have enough work for that, especially in the winter. If you want it to, you could go to our website and there's a volunteer section, takingownershippdx.org, but we're not encouraging that unless you are skilled in a trade and licensed, bonded, and insured. So we can actually do quality and insured work on these homes.”
(4/8) “The state, the city, the nation, the, the feds, anybody that can make policies to stop this thing. Make policies that provide reparations. And I mean, I strongly believe reparations are needed for particularly the black community, but other communities as well, natives need better reparations too. If you have any idea of how horrible this country has been to nonwhite people, particularly black people and the natives, you would understand that there is some sort of equity in the form of monetary gifts that needed to be given. I mean, think about Oregon. They were, when they found Oregon, they were just buying up. They're just giving 300 to 600 acres of land to white men, and black people couldn't even live here. With that understanding, they think that it has to be through equitable practices. They have to put in policies for developers that they have to give the developers the same rules that residential people have. So developers can come into neighborhoods and buy up houses and tear them down and build up some garbage 30 unit building without asking the community what they want. Let's say if you're a homeowner, a residential homeowner and you want to just build a garage or something, you gotta ask all your neighbors what they think, what color. It's not fair that these developers just because they have multi-millions and they can house more people, can come in here with their own set of rules and it actually impacts the whole, the rest of the neighborhood because utilities go up, property taxes go up. You bring a whole different demographic into these neighborhoods. That's another thing where I live. I just bought a house in Albina. It's mostly white people around here. This is a historically black neighborhood. They'd lost all that culture. I think there has to be some policy in place that keeps the culture in the neighborhoods to give the neighborhood a voice. They definitely have to do something reparation-like, and maybe that's providing property or monetary gifts.”
(5/8) “I think most change starts from the bottom and it does, I don't know anything, any kind of change like that on a legislative level, I feel always has to start with some individuals getting together and making some noise and then they're like,’Oh, okay, fine. It just looks like they're not going to shut up about it’. So now we're going to start. When you even think about marijuana passing, anything, we've really got to make some noise unless it's benefiting the corporations. If it benefits everyday people on an individual level, we have to make noise and then they'll consider passing some stuff.”
(6/8) “I don't think enough people really understand the capacity of what gentrification is. What it's done, how severe it's been. When you grew up in capitalism, you just think that's just the way it is. They want to take your house, they'll take your house. They want to do that. You just got to work harder. You just got to pull yourself up by your bootstrap to keep your house. They don't understand the policies and just like the nuanced ways in which they operate to take their homes. And if you're one of the people benefiting from gentrification, you're usually one of the people that has the most resources and the most power to enact the change. That's why we always tell white people, y'all got to talk to each other. Y'all got to be the ones out here really making that change, because this is a system that was built by y'all, so y'all gotta dismantle it. It can't just be us. I think it's hard for white people who benefit from it because they're content and they think, all right, I just bought this house, but, I'll put a Black Lives Matter sign in my yard’ and they think that's enough? Just for instance, some serious accomplice ally work that just happened is I bought this house from a white lady. She sold it to me for what was left on the mortgage, because she didn't want to make any money off it. And she wanted to put a black family back in the Albina neighborhood. That's that radical philanthropy work that I think needs to happen that I don't think a lot of people are going to do. This woman's on some other shit, which I'm thankful for. I don't think that there's not going to be a lot of people that are going to do that. And she didn't put herself out cause she's wealthy and she's a successful business owner and owns multiple properties. I don't know if I can say enough people care to make the actual radical decisions and actions that it will take to reverse gentrification. And gentrification is already done. There's no black community in Portland anymore. It's gone. I guess you could say it's in the numbers, but that's not really it, so it has to be reversed at this point.”
(7/8) “I think it's one of the most important things as far as what humans need is, shelter, and as somebody who is a brand new homeowner - I just bought this house two months ago - I was a renter all before that. With two, I became a father at nineteen years old of two, and I've lived in maybe 12 places since they were born. We're renting apartments, living in garages, whatever I could find and, it's miserable and it's not knowing, having to move. First of all, moving sucks. We all know that. Bouncing my kids around from place to place just to be able to stay. And to be able to pay into your property and then actually get towards paying off your property is huge. An actual mortgage is amazing. When you're renting, you're just giving your money away all the time. Especially when you get older and the cost of living going up, it's harder to find other places to live. It's important. And then familiarity in communities is I think so important to people. I think it's just so many aspects of it is important.”
(8/8) “I also want to say the importance of aging in place is also to be able to pass down your property to the next generation. I think that's actually really huge. Ways to raise awareness, do your research. I think that's important. There's a great class - I'm actually in my capstone class right now, it's racial equity in Oregon. I'm learning a lot about gentrification and just the origin of all that in that class. I recommend y'all take it. Take that class if you want, but it's a good one. Do your research on Portland or even other cities too, but I mean, Oregon has its own unique story. My way of raising awareness is social media. That's how this whole thing started. If I didn't have a platform on social media, there's no way I would've got the word out so fast. And provide resources. I think that's the way to go these days, is social media. And action. Don't just talk about it. Be about it.”
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hollywritesinstardust · 7 years ago
Text
Sister Sinner, Chapter Four
Request: Do you do cross-overs? I was thinking Neal Caffery’s younger sister works with the BAU, her brother, Mozzie, and Peter on a case, and ends up crushing on Derek Morgan.
Fandom: Criminal Minds/White Collar
Characters/Pairings: Derek Morgan/Reader; Garcia, Hotch, Prentiss, Reid, Rossi, Neal
Words: 2,136
Y/N - Your Name
            “The good news is that he was definitely in contact with someone the entire time. The bad news is that the Gambinos – or whoever else might have been on the mic – only opened their end of the transmission when they communicated into his wire, which was for only seconds at a time and not long enough to trace. The radio signals bouncing out were encrypted very heavily with very dense coding and went through half a dozen proxy servers in the New England area before leaving the country.”
            Garcia looked very nervous as she presented the results of your first undercover meeting with Gio, and although you couldn’t say you had enjoyed being in his company, you were kind of excited that you would have to keep reprising your role as Sofia. It felt good to be the one under pressure for once – the one in the loop, the one whose abilities were coveted, the one who had the power to make it or break it. Since going good, you’d been doing far less of your own thing, mostly because you knew it would make things rough for Neal if Peter (or anyone else in law enforcement, for that matter) caught you.
            “Garcia,” Hotchner prompted, inserting just the one word in his boss voice between her rambling sentences.
            The techie stopped, swallowed, and nodded. “What I’m trying to say, sir, is that they have someone with their own special spice of signal protection that I can’t get through without the cooperation of governments in China, Belarus-“
            “Countries who are less likely to grant American law enforcement access to their satellite data,” you mused. Garcia nodded disappointedly. “Well, that’s fine. We don’t want to catch them now, anyway. We need more evidence, otherwise we’ve got them on shady charges at best. We want them on smuggling, even if we can’t nail ‘em for murder.”
            “He said they will be in touch. He wasn’t speaking on his own.” Prentiss took a glance at Reid, who nodded and then repeated, word-for-word, what Gio had said to you. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment – odd but useful, kind of like Mozzie’s photographic memory. The black-haired woman continued with her reasoning. “He wasn’t even trying to be discreet.”
            “Or he was, and he’s just bad at it,” you suggested.
            Morgan was clicking the end of a pen on the desk. “Nah, these guys wouldn’t hire an amateur.”
            “Maybe they pegged her as a smart one and assumed she would have done her homework,” Rossi posited wryly. “After all, what’ve we got on this Gio guy? Nothing. A high-profile armament doesn’t just drop into his lap unless someone knows who pads his pockets.”
            “Then they’re definitely going to call on me again.” You just hoped they would have the class to not be like the femme fatale that had broken into Neal’s penthouse to call on him.
            When Hotchner called for the dismissal, telling everyone to pack up and go get some rest before morning, it was like he was the teacher and everyone else was racing to leave before he tacked on a last-minute homework assignment. You waited for the room to empty out while stretching in your chair, letting the tiredness show on your face. Undercover operations were always more taxing than you expected them to be.
            Morgan was the last in the conference room. The handsome agent had caught your interest several times – not just when he spoke, although you definitely liked that he had more than just a few brain cells floating around up there. JJ was pretty, and Reid was cute, but Morgan was attractive, in the way that gets people a fan following on social media with tags that you wouldn’t want to read off in a room full of children.
            “Alright, Y/N.” He stopped while he was pushing in his chair and peered at you over the table, openly curious, but relaxed. “The suspense is gonna do me in if I don’t ask. So what’s it like? Being his sister.”
            You raised an eyebrow and glibly responded. “Got a friendship crush on my brother, Morgan?”
            He laughed, shaking his head. “Something like that shapes a person. Shapes their relationships. Siblings are impacted by how their brothers and sisters bond with them, the values they teach and the roles they fill. How did his antics fit into your life? Why did you let them stay?”
            You seriously considered not answering. You understood his curiosity – it was far from unique to him – and appreciated that he had asked without sounding underhanded or judgmental. In the moment, though, you decided that it wasn’t going to hurt anything, and maybe if you let him see a little more than the others could, then he’d be a bit more motivated to trust you and feel like he knew you. You’d seen Peter and Neal fight because of lacking trust too many times, and you wanted real friendships, not friendships that fell apart as soon as there was a hint of doubt.
            “Believe it or not,” you started, choosing your words carefully and leaning on the table, “Neal gave me an ultimatum.” The agent’s eyebrows went up slightly in surprise. “Not as such,” you elaborated pensively, “He would never intentionally do that. But the context mandated it. It was never said, but I understood. Be involved, and be my family. Or don’t, and…” You stopped, shaking your head, being mindful how much information you gave out. Neal’s reasons for running were personal. Not so personal that they weren’t your business, because they were mostly about your family, but private enough not to want to share. “If I hadn’t gone, I would’ve been safe. I would’ve been free. I would’ve known that I could go home every day to a woman who loved us and took care of us and been fed and housed. But I also would’ve lost my brother, and to me, that was unfathomable.”
            Neal had promised, a long, long time ago, that you were his best friend, and he would never leave you. It was entirely possible he hadn’t realized what he’d been making you choose between at the time, but though he said he understood completely if you chose to remain in St. Louis, you had intuitively known that the next time you’d see him could be decades away, if ever. Runaways don’t come back home when they intend to successfully run away.
            “Be involved?” Morgan repeated, crossing his arms.
            You surveyed his face and decided the gesture wasn’t in disapproval, so you expanded on it.
            “Not commit crime. Just run away.” You shrugged. “Be involved in his new life, whatever it meant. Neal did his best to keep me clean and safe, but… there’s always a degree of inevitability. Especially in a hypothetical situation where people want money and are allegedly more or less cheated out of it. I could’ve stayed or gone any time I wanted, but it wasn’t worth losing him.
            “We were a bit codependent.” You chuckled reminiscently. “Not as much anymore. It’s hard to be codependent when one of the parties are in prison.”
            “I bet.”
            You licked your lips and swallowed. “Anyway.” You stood up to leave. That was more sharing and caring than you usually did in a month, even with El, the undisputed queen of compassionate and empathetic conversation. “Neal was – and still is – my best friend. I’m not always happy with the choices he’s made. And I’m definitely not always happy with their consequences. Yet, I can never regret the choice I made to follow him. Whatever you might want to accuse him of, he has always done his best for the people he loves, and that’s better than a lot of others.”
            Before you left, you paused. And turned around. You’d tried explaining your story to a couple of people before, people you’d known longer and trusted more, and in spite of this, you had never had a more thoughtful or quiet audience.
            “Agent Morgan?” You let your own interest loose and looked right at him, making eye contact and holding it with piercing, alert brown eyes. “Do you believe that choices change the courses of our lives?”
            He pondered it a moment, then nodded decisively. “I do. Yes. One thought, one idea, one feeling in the right place, time, or context can be enough to have someone stoned for treason or venerated as a saint. It could leave in a moment or it could persist and become an entire cultural revolution. Why?”
            “Do you have any of those choices in your past?” You couldn’t help but ask and hope you weren’t going nosy.  
            Morgan weighed this thoughtfully. “Oh, yes. Most definitely.” He decided, and seemed content to say so. Then, even though you thought it had been implied that you wanted to know a bit more than just the yes or no answer, he picked up his phone and left.
            You sucked on the inside of your cheek. You weren’t sure whether or not you were a huge fan or Morgan’s quick leave, but you did know that the role he had chosen for himself, as an FBI agent, would either fill quickly without him or leave a gap in his team that damaged their effectiveness.
            Teams were like organisms, sometimes, except where Morgan’s was well-used to him and functioned like a well-oiled machine, Sofia was in the business of selling hers. There was something very poetic about how each of you used people and relationships to get where you needed to be, and for just a moment, you felt a hot flash of jealousy, because you wanted to claim a sense of belonging. You wanted to be able to say that you were required and comfortable.
            Except that was all very ridiculous and you shoved it aside as quickly as you could. Morgan had a pretty good life, from where you were standing, but that didn’t mean you wanted what he had. If you prioritized things like that, then you never would’ve run away with Neal in the first place. Right?
            It was a nightmare come true.
            You couldn’t convince yourself that Mozzie was lying, not after everything, not after hearing for yourself the recording of the gavel being banged.
            You cried into Neal’s shoulder while he cradled you lovingly, shushing you softly and rubbing up and down your back the same way he did after you were hurt in Copenhagen and he couldn’t take you to the hospital for fear of both of you being caught. While your shoulders shook, he was admirably composed for a man who knew he was hugging his sister for the last time for at least four years.
            “You should’ve let me do it,” you whimpered, digging your hands into his jacket. “I’m not eighteen for another few months. They might’ve charged me as a minor.”
            “It’s a grand felony,” Neal gently corrected you, pushing your hair out of your face. “They’d have tried you as an adult. And you know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
            “Like this is so much better,” you retorted. Despite that you were starting to argue, you still held tight to him. “You’re gonna be trapped in a cage and I’m gonna be alone.”
            “You won’t,” he promised, rubbing a tear off of your face with an earnest, sentimental look on his face. “Mozzie and Kate will take care of you. Kate will make sure you’re not alone and Moz will keep you supplied with money, food, clothes – he has connections.”
            You sniffed and looked deeply into his eyes, trying to memorize the blue and the youth in his face. You knew prison could change a person and couldn’t believe this would be your last opportunity to see your brother as you knew him now. “But they’re not you.”
            His smile turned sad. “I know. I’m going to miss you, too, sweetie. We knew this could happen. I told you Burke was good.”
            Good? Burke was taking your only family away. “I hope he goes to hell,” you spat hatefully.
            Neal’s surprised and scolding expression was the only reason you felt even a little bit remorseful for saying it. He tilted your chin to look at him in the eyes and said firmly, “Hey, don’t go there. He’s a good man, he’s doing his job. He told the DA I cooperated once I was caught. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably be doing ten.”
            “I still hate him enough for the both of us, since you’ve clearly lost your mind.” You mumbled into his shirt, hugging him tightly again and wishing you could ignore that Neal wasn’t wearing one of the nice suits he loved.
            He’d been forced to wear an outfit supplied by the Department of Justice instead.
A/N: This one took a while and was harder to write - it was mostly filler. I hope you enjoyed!
On the tags list are: @bestillmystuckyheart, @skeletoresinthebasement, @werewitchling, @1enchantedfantasy1, and @ragweed98!
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