#environment it's full of empty promises and full of sorries and no effort at all

[treebloods]

It doesn't feel like a safe space anymore so i will simply withdraw

[thran-duils]

Lost In Your Current (P.1)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 2,033 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

After he had been brought back from space and found Pepper gone, Tony had been devastated. He isolated himself despite the remaining Avengers efforts. He only let them know he was alive and was reviving himself from being starved and dehydrated in space. When he had received the intel that in the snap, males were given mates, an Alpha and Omega pairing, he had rejected the idea at first, ignoring the small A that had engrained itself on the web of his hand between his forefinger and thumb. But as time waned on, he found himself empty and even admitting that to Rhodes opened up the conversation again about finding his Omega. Rhodes was convinced Tony would find healing in that connection. Thanos had done it to set couples, control procreation. No out of wedlock. There would not be another overpopulation problem. Only Omega were able to breed now. In any corner of the galaxy, it seemed.

Somehow despite his isolation, Tony had gotten word an Omega had been captured and her imprinting mark, an outline on her gland yet to be penetrated, matched his DNA. It was not a surprise to Natasha considering his incessant need for information and adept ability to hack practically any system.

Or maybe it was because Steve had told him. That’s what Tony divulged to her upon his arrival.

“I did not tell you yet for a reason,” Natasha told him.

They were standing in the observation room. Like many Omega after the snap, she had gone into hiding as soon as the information was out, and she had noticed the mark on her neck. People were not keen on being forced into submission and this situation was no different. Quickly, a drug had been developed and distributed. Still, the Omega had stayed in hiding, still fearful they could be detected despite the suppressants.

“Yeah, I’m used to you not telling people things,” Tony told her coldly. “You learned that from Fury well enough.”

Natasha swallowed his insult, knowing he was getting himself riled up just at the sight of her. She needed to be delicate about this. She had planned on telling him and inviting him to the compound but she had wanted to give Y/N time, get her as calm as possible to meet her Alpha. Steve had ruined that. So, she had to just go ahead now that Tony was here, ready to pounce. He had held off for so long, but the loneliness and loss had gotten to him. Or the drive to find himself buried in his Omega had sunk in; hormones were a bitch.

“She’s been on the suppressants. It may take a while for her to feel her heat,” Natasha told him.

“’A while’? How long has she been off them?”

“We’ve had her in here a few days. But a week at least.”

Tony growled and turned away from her. His eyes found Y/N again on the other side of the glass, watching her meander in the room serving as her cell to keep her safe. “She’s so close! A few days at best!”

Tony could already see it, smell it. It did not matter there was a wall separating, she was coming in through the circulation. And she already smelled deserving of his veneration.

Natasha inhaled sharply and took a step towards him. Firmly, she asked, “Do you need to leave, Tony?”

“No!” he spat, shooting her a threatening glare. He was just daring her to try to force him to leave.

As if he would let his prize out of his sight. He had been lost the moment he had laid eyes on her, smelled her sweet scent of sea breeze and jasmine.

Natasha would threaten him in return. She was not afraid of him, unlike most people. She was firm when she told him, “I won’t allow you to mate an Omega without their consent. She won’t realize she’s in heat yet. You need to wait until next cycle. Even if it is your soulmate and you think it’s for the best. And by think, I use it lightly cause I can see your fingers are white with how hard you are trying to hold onto that ledge to keep a grip on control.”

Tony snorted impatiently. Next cycle? Fuck that. He had been stuck in space and been screwed over by Thanos. He lost Pepper. He deserved this. He deserved her, he deserved this new start. He had gotten himself healthy again. And why not for this?

His Alpha was rearing its head; he had his soulmate so close, and he was so convinced he could trip her into heat early.

His eyes were fixated on his mate on the other side of the glass. She was moving around unbeknownst that he could see her, that he was watching her. His cock was tight against his jeans, and he adjusted, shooting a glance at Natasha who did not miss the movement.

He paced more, keeping his eyes set on her. She licked her lips, her hands wringing together as she sat down on the bench at the window she was allowed. She would have so much to look at when she was at his house. He had moved north, bought a large house settled in the mountains. So much space for her to wander, under his direction of course. He could not risk losing her either. But he wanted her happy. Only if happy meant she was with him though. He would not settle for anything less. He would force that mating bond on her if that is what it took to ensure she would warm his bed.

Out of Tony’s sight, Natasha cocked her head towards the door and Carol followed her. They thought Tony did not even notice them leave. Not that that was unexpected considering how zoned in he was.

Outside the room, door closed behind them, Natasha told her, “I’m gonna kill Steve. She needed a week—”

“Steve is just as meat headed as Tony. As little of time I’ve known him, I’ve realized that I’m not shocked he gave him the tip. He has been pretty happy with his mate that he found. I thought someone as virtuous as Captain America would have at least given the situation a second though, but…”

“Hormones are not a joke,” Natasha murmured. She swore and said exasperated, “Tony is not going to leave that fucking room without an armed guard dragging him out.”

Carol shrugged. “Then leave him in there! Let him watch her and keep the eye out he thinks he needs to. As long as he doesn’t break the glass—"

“He’s on edge already, Carol. If he sees anyone enter that room — even IF they’re beta, which is the only people I will send in there now regardless — he could lose it. Send himself into a rut. But she needs testing still and food. She has to interact with our doctors.”

<><><>

Tony had certainly noticed them leave though. And he smirked as soon as the door closed. Idiots.

Waiting for the door to close after Carol and Natasha stepped outside the room, Tony hit his watch.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y…. Hit the ventilation. Knock them out outside the room I am in and hers.”

<><><>

Tony stepped over Natasha and Carol slumped on the ground and then over the guards in the hallway. He held up his watch to the keypad and F.R.I.D.A.Y unlocked the door, giving him access. He shivered physically smelling Y/N full on, her wafting out to him as he pushed the door open. The room was penetrated with her and it was intoxication. The alcohol had done nothing for him since he had returned, no amount of money spent, no amount of women he had taken to his bed. But he actually felt something when he stepped into the room.

She turned away from the window, eyes wide and curious. He made sure to close the door behind him, a barrier to her escaping. He had read in the information he had been given all those months ago that Omega were unruly when they were not claimed yet and the thought made him growl internally. If she tried to run from him… his Alpha was furious at the thought, ready to pin her.

The two of them stared at each other and he could hear her heart beating faster, reacting to him. Natasha was right; she was not ready quite yet but just being in his presence was having an impact. Yes, he could trip her if he got her home, immersed her in his environment. If he was all she could see.

His eyes raked over her and he said, “Well, they certainly don’t know how to dress you all here.”

She looked down at her loose gown and then flicked her gaze back up to his, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry…”

She was delectable. Submissive. She already wanted to please him, and she had not been properly introduced to him yet. Tony felt his cock hardening. If only he could take her here and now. But he needed to drive her home. He tried to fight the hormones trying to hijack his psyche.

“No, sweet one, don’t apologize. You still look lovely. You’re so fertile….. look at you. Dripping.”

<><><>

You perked up at the compliment. The multiple compliments. You were doing good. Weren’t you? On many levels. Fertile. And wet.

Wait, wait?

He came closer. Still looking entirely in the brink of losing it but he smelled good. He smelled like home.

And that instantly set you on edge, a clear thought cutting through your arousal.

No.

It was him. The Alpha you had been assigned to. And Jesus. It was Tony fucking Stark. Why else would he have this effect on you? Natasha had promised to speak to you and let you decide as you weaned off the suppressants. She had lied and now you were being thrown to the wolves. And no wonder. Tony was her friend. Why would she deny him anything?

You stood quickly and your back hit the wall. You were closing in on yourself, trying to be small. He bristled at your squirrely movement and cocked his head. He immediately placed himself between you and the door to prevent you leaving, holding up his hand. Your heart was hammering.

He was here. He was here to take you away, lock you away.

“You don’t have to be afraid…” Tony said, his voice rolling over you like a high. It was sugary, sweet. “You are safe with me, sweet one.”

Safe. Yes. He would protect you.

You shook your head, closing your eyes tight, trying to shake his influence. Safe meant under his thumb.

Tony was closing the space quickly and you cowered. He was stronger than you and would undoubtedly win a fight.

“Omega…” he said, the title falling from his lips like a song. You froze and he took a few more steps. He shivered, seeing your response. “Be good. You don’t have to be trapped in here anymore. This room is so small, confining. You can come with me… up to our cabin.” Our, the word usage was not lost on you. “There’s a lake. Space to wander. You will have freedom there. With me.”

Half of you was screaming to listen to him, go to him, obey. The other half was screaming at you to try to duck around him and find an escape to make sure you would not fully come off the suppressants and be his puppet, his breeding machine.

Tony was there, inches between you and your chest pulled towards him, wanting him to touch you. He noticed the movement, hunger swimming in his eyes, pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, Omega. Be good.”

A soft whine left your lips, embarrassingly, at the command to be good.

Yet, another thought flashed. This was not right. And your eyes hardened. His jaw clenched at the sight, and you knew you were in trouble. Before you could react, he brought his hand up, and all you felt was cold metal against your neck before you saw black.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[renaerys]

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

[ayamturd]

promises│nihachu

summary: in any given situation or matter, promises are sacred in any relationship one should hold. 

prompt: “Promise you won’t let go?” “I promise.”

warnings: fluff and major angst, death and warfare descriptions, slight dsmp spoilers

pairing: in-game romantic!nihachu

a/n: this is my entry for @quackisinnit’s 1k writing event!! huge congratulatory once again for their achievement and amazing writing (go read their stuff, it’s incredible) <3

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Y/n! Slow down, will you!” 

You giggled to Niki’s panic and only sped through the tall grass faster. The world was a blur as you pulled her through the empty, dry field. Every branch of wheat tickled your face as they grazed your sides, yet you could care less as you both ran with little care in the world. 

“But how will we get there faster then?” You glanced back at her with an assured smirk without breaking your pace. Her eyes, while wide with concern, opposed her careless smile. She chuckled loudly at your words, the beautiful sound of her laugher prompting your own as you began climbing a small hill. 

“Only a little further, come on.” Your hand gripped her own gently, and she only squeezed your palm in response. 

As you reached the high ground, you both paused briefly to gather your breaths before you began pulling her again. “I hope this will be worth all the anticipation. You still haven’t told me what you wanted to show me.” 

The line of trees became more evident as you approached them. Entering the forest cautiously, the overhead branches shielded the bright sunlight, only speckles of light breaking through the leaves as they casted over you. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it.” Niki let out a small whine of your name, jogging slightly to meet your footing. 

The forest became evidently thicker with every stride, the overgrown roots of the trees tripping up Niki’s feet as she couldn’t see as clearly. She began to slow significantly in fear of the unfamiliar environment, the dark trunks, all of various sizes, almost taunting her with the possibility of something jumping out at her. 

While your presence was comforting, she couldn’t hide how naturally scared she was to continue forward. 

Noting her anxiety, you stopped completely to check on her, though her eyes were anywhere but your own; she was surveying the surrounding and the inability to see anything beyond a certain distance.

With a tender touch, you called her name more softly and pulled her face to your own. “We can head back if you’re uncomfortable love, but it’s just past this grove, I swear.” 

Niki relished in your touch and leaned into your hold, the warmth of your palm compelling and inviting against her cheek. She nodded ever so briefly, but you did not want to push her past what she was comfortable with due to your own excitement. 

“Speak with me now, love. I won’t force you if you don’t want to, it’s nothing of greater importance to your feelings.” 

Head still bowed down, Niki opened her eyes while lifting your still clasped hands to her lips. She kissed your knuckles endearingly before raising her head more confidently, your concern for her well being driving her emotionally.

“I’ll be alright, darling, thank you.” You leaned closer to exchange a kiss, a light feathery peck to her plush lips, and rested your forehead against her’s. 

Eyes closed, you merely whispered into her skin, “are you certain? You know I could never fault you if so.” 

Niki pulled away, causing your eyes to open at the lack of contact, and gave you a beautiful grin as reassurance. “I am, y/n, I promise.” 

While you smiled brightly, she paused before turning away, almost embarrassed to ask her next question. “Just… just promise you won’t let go?” 

Your airy chuckle made her head snap up to you, afraid of the connotations it held; however, she instead was met with your brilliant, crinkled eyes. They were intense, full of love and adoration that could make her blush widely from the simple gaze, and spoke more words than you could ever relay. 

Moving your hand to the back of her neck, you slowly bent down to kiss her again. It was more intense than before, the passion you displayed shared as Niki grabbed the wrist you held with while her other hand cupped your cheek securely. 

Eventually, you needed air and forced your lips off her hesitantly. Heavy breaths pervaded the forest landscape, and you both panted from the impenetrable emotions you carried. You held a lopsided grin from the kiss, the tired pull of your lips matching her own. 

“I promise, darling. I’ll always have you.”

“Y/n!” 

The sky was dark, fire raging from below and engulfing the space completely. Destruction rained down in the aftermath of the battle, ash and debris scattered everywhere. The smoke was blinding, the stinging film it produced bringing tears to the eyes of all while tainting the air, making it hard to breath or move within the encapsulated scenery. 

It was ringing. The silence was almost deafening after the deathly explosions and sounds that imploded moments before. One could barely hear themself think from the loud buzz or harsh stillness, the contrast more painful to the noise when originally casted in face of what was left to scrape and reforge. 

“Y/n, hold on!” 

Those injured or lost were left casted amongst the destruction of the once beautiful, vast land. Nothing could be said to the devastation that laid waste around them, yet the heartache most suffered was excruciating to the failure of a promise their home once carried. 

While some had fled or currently carried themselves strong against the opposing, ‘god-like’ force that demanded for blood, two loves were still fighting for the purpose of staying together. 

“Y/n! I have you, I have you, ju一 just hang on!” 

Niki’s face was stained with dirt and grime, yet it did nothing to hide the pain she held in her eyes. She was crying, the smoke in her eyes, while harsh and searing, incomparable to the agony she felt while holding you. 

“Niki, I’m so scared.” 

You were hanging over a massive crater, your feet danglingly helplessly in the open air as the wind pulled at your weight. Niki gripped your arm with her entire being, the wounds she had meaning nothing to the turmoil of emotions that raged at the sight of seeing you scared beyond admission. 

Her expression was determined, despite the tear stains that marked her face so vastly to the filth that stained her cheeks. She grunted, loosing her footing momentarily before pulling you slightly up again. In spite of all her efforts, she was too weak and exhausted from the fighting beforehand, body unable to carry the same passion she emulated in thought. 

“Niki.” Her eyes were tight from her current endeavor, and she shook her head at your voice. 

“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, we’re going to be okay.” Her hands were shaking from your weight, yet she refused to break her grip.

“Niki, please look at me.” Blinking roughly to rid the salty tears, Niki let out a sob from meeting your own tears as well. You were in immense pain, and the fear that overtook was numbing to the point that you couldn’t put up a front any longer. 

“I love you, Niki. I love you so much.” With a shake of her head, more tears ran down her face from the revelation. She pulled harder on your arm. 

“Don’t do that, don’t say it like that.” You tried to smile and bring her comfort from the situation, but in truth you were too drained; the smile you tried for was only an empty shell to the joy it once held. 

“Niki, it’s alright, its o一”

Suddenly, more explosions shattered the still landscape once more. The war was not over and the crack of the already broken terrain collapse further beneath itself. 

Dust clouded your vision and the panic was overwhelming, causing you to speak without thought relative to the reality you both faced.

“Niki, don’t let go, please, promise you won’t let go!” Your words were rushed and incomprehensible. Eyes wild in terror and dread, the cries that escaped you were strained and smothered over the erupting ground around you. 

Niki yelled as loud as she could against the explosions trapping you both, anguished by the matter of fact. “Yes! Yes, Y/n! I have you, I pro一“

Before the vow in vain could be voiced, a new rain of explosions were set barely a few feet behind Niki, and the earth shook violently from impact. She yelped from the unexpected attack and lost her concentration and stability, thrown back, hard, into a sunken ditch. 

Explosion after explosion followed, and she was forced to hold her head in instinct until the silence rang out once more. With a gasp, she struggled to her feet and pathetically climbed her way over the small hill, the littered waste and scrap metal tripping her in her moment of desperation. 

She fell against the edge of the hollow shaft, a look of shock in disbelief before the horror sunk in. “No…”

“No, no, no no no…” She began to mumble to herself until her words became louder. Sinking to her knees at the realization, she released a broken and cracked cry. While sound was muffled to the damage within her ears and her sight was obscured by her teary eyes, the pain and heartbreak she felt was everything and the only thing she recognized then and there.

She cried and she cried, and no matter how much it hurt, she could never stop from the pain that would consume her without her new found sorrow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Slowly, she laid her head against the ground and clenched her eyes shut, gripping her fists close into herself for she no longer had someone to hold her safe. 

“I’m so sorry.”

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 2

Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: What kind of man

(see chapter 1)

summary: the matchmaking trio changes their strategy, and you end up on a sparring mat with Neil

warnings: language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT

author’s note:  ...you know what? I don’t want to take any responsibility for where this chapter ended up going. Those characters have mind of their own and at this point I can just write it down and try not to die on the way. (I know it’s far from what we’ve discussed A, but it’s best I could do with what these two had given me, promise to do better next time)

The song for this chapter is Florence + The Machine - “What kind of man”  (changed from “Undisclosed desires”, don’t ask me, I don’t know either)

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

___

“...and you really think this is a good idea?” 

“It sure beats yours,” said Ives and took a sip from his cup.

TP huffed and smacked his arm. “Hey, I thought it was our idea!”

“What matters is,” - Wheeler chimed in, fighting a losing battle to hide the annoyance in her voice - “it was a terrible one, and we have to do better if you want them to not get each other killed on the field.”

Ives pondered for a while. When he looked at Wheeler, his eyes were full of concern. “Honestly? This sounds like a recipe for someone getting hurt.”

She kept forgetting how protective he could be over his friend. Although this time, she thought, the one at risk was definitely Neil. 

Wheeler smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, it’s gonna work.”

_________________

There was a certain peace in the emptiness of the HQ’s shooting range in the early morning. It always helped you clear your head - there was no place for emotions while you were holding a gun. And you always knew when to come there to be alone. 

At least up until today.

Just as you finished your routine and grabbed your bag, the door opened and you were greeted by the smirk from under the messy blonde mane. 

Bloody perfect.

A week had passed since the bar encounter, seven long days filled with Neil’s tiresome presence during your work time. If it wasn’t a merged mission of your squads, there were training sessions. The shooting range was your last place free from the walking reminder of your recent failure. 

Not anymore, apparently. 

“Going out already? Too bad, I was hoping to get some tips from you.”

“Aim and pull the trigger. Repeat. It’s really that simple,” you said, shrugging.

The blue eyes narrowed behind yellow-tinted lenses of the safety glasses as Neil sent a forced smile your way. “Never would have guessed,” he deadpanned.

You passed by him, not willing to allow him to get under your skin. But then, just as you were about to exit the room, you stopped and cursed internally at yourself. Closing the door and turning around, you placed your bag quietly on the ground and leaned back against the wall. With your arms crossed, you watched Neil as he prepared his pistol and started the practice. 

You studied his posture, the way he held the gun in his gloved hands, trying to find any weak points in his technical side. There wasn’t too much to improve, his problem with shooting during the missions must have been elsewhere. You briefly glanced over the rolled sleeves of his navy blue shirt and the way his jaw tightened when he checked the target to grade his accuracy. 

“Look at that, you actually can hit a target,” you said and the corner of your lips twitched. “An easy one and not quite lethally but still, I’d call that a progress.”

Neil scoffed and glared at you over the shoulder. “I thought you were done for today.”

The subtle hints of frustration rang in his voice, catching you by surprise. You didn’t know why, but all of the sudden, the satisfaction you felt had a bitter aftertaste. 

You eyed him carefully before speaking again, this time easing up on the mocking tone. Just a bit. “Maybe you just need to train in a more stressful environment.”

A sardonic smile tainted Neil’s lips as he focused on the target again. 

“Keep talking then.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you left the shooting range. 

Fucking hell, he was just infuriating.

_________________

You stared at the bulletin board in disbelief. The new training lineup added one-on-one sparring sessions, and your name was all the way at the bottom of the list, which only meant more late evenings at the headquarters. And as for the choice of your sparring partner-...

With the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure, trying to sneak by you unnoticed. You turned around quickly. “Ives, why do you guys hate me so much?”

He sighed slowly and patted you on the arm. “It’s nothing personal,” he said, his voice almost sincere. But you knew better, and after the crap they’d pulled on you last time, you had every right to be suspicious. 

“You could have picked anyone else for him,” you complained, quite desperate to try anything to avoid spending more time with that blonde pain in the ass.

“I didn’t pick shit,” Ives scoffed. “Besides, it’s just the combat practice, the usual training rotation stays the same.”

“And it’s a coincidence-”

“It’s not,” TP’s voice rang from behind you. “It’s the result of your recent evaluation.”

You stifled a curse. 

_________________

Neil’s brows furrowed in fake concern while he looked you up and down as you kicked off your shoes and stepped on the mat. The fact that you accidentally matched your black tank top and shorts to his black t-shirt and sweatpants didn’t get lost on him.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” he teased. “I thought you might enjoy it, I saw the way you look at me.”

You smacked your lips as you began to stretch your arms and sneered, “Good, so you know how much I want to punch your stupid face.”

Neil kept his features casual, but the taunting sparks in his eyes were saying plenty. 

“I can’t wait to see you try.”

You started circling each other slowly. After seeing him in combat, you knew that you were in his domain. You tapped into all your bottled anger to cover the lack of confidence you suddenly felt in his calm presence. 

“Ground rules?” you asked, putting your guard up.

Neil’s shoulders raised in a slight shrug as he mirrored your pose nonchalantly. 

“Just show me what you got.”

And that’s what you did. 

You always considered your close combat skills adequate. Good enough to let you get out of most of the situations you’d found yourselves into during missions. But after yet another blocked hit, you weren’t so sure about that anymore. 

Meanwhile, Neil was clearly having fun watching you struggle to break through his defense. “You don’t like hand-to-hand combat,” he rather stated the fact than asked as he dodged under swing aimed for his head and lunged forward, tapping your right side to mark the exposed area. 

“If you’re that close, it means I’ve failed to shoot you,” huffing in frustration, you spun around and kicked, missing him just barely. Neil didn’t give you too much time to regain your balance, making you jump out of the way of his flying knee. He flitted around you and grabbed your wrist, twisting it quickly and pressing it to your back, quickly adding your other one there before you could do anything about it. 

“You never let anyone near you, huh?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you tried to wriggle your way out. Neil was definitely too close for comfort, both literally and figuratively. “You’re not my therapist, blondie,” you uttered through gritted teeth, taking a sudden step back right into his arms, a change of direction finally allowing you to escape his grasp.

“Thank god, because I feel sorry for them already,” Neil laughed dryly. His eyes narrowed as he watched your mouth open in disbelief at his remark and a shit-eating grin crept on his face. 

You don’t know what pissed you off more - the fact that he was bent on driving you mad, or the sudden realization that the fucker was clearly holding back. It didn’t matter that you were struggling enough with the moderate effort from his side; to you, it was an insult worse than the comment. 

You brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead. “Aren’t you tired?” you snarled, shifting your balance back and forth. The question was vague enough, but from the way his expression changed, you knew he got the hint. The predatory flare in his eyes made the heart race in your chest. 

Neil sprung at you, faking a misstep on the way to throw you off balance. Your senses sharpened enough to predict his next move and you were there to deflect a lightning-quick hit to your abdomen. You returned with a strike at his side but to no luck. Neil ducked under your elbow and closed in on you, giving himself enough momentum to knock you down and pin you to the mat.

The self-satisfied stare just a few inches from your face was making the blood boil in your veins. Cursing internally at both his reach and flexibility, you squirmed under Neil and that only made him press his forearm to your chest even harder, a roguish smile tainting his lips. “See, there’s one thing you need to learn. You need to work smarter, not harder.”

An outraged cry built in your throat as you clenched your hands on his arms, trying to gain any leverage in your position. You glared into the blue eyes, the nauseating hate burning in every cell of your body.

Neil raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh no, did I hit a nerve?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Of course, that son of a bitch hit a fucking bullseye. And to make matters worse - he had a point, too. 

Neil spotted a change in your expression a second too late. You swiftly moved your hands and sneaked them under his t-shirt, sliding them up his stomach. His eyes widened as he gasped, reducing the pressure on your chest. That gave you enough room to maneuver, rolling him off you and pinning him with his wrists above his head. 

With your faces again just inches away from each other, both of you panted heavily; a part of you enjoyed Neil’s amused gaze, his mouth slightly open as he tried to level his breath. And then - 

“Good girl. Just like that.”

...fuck.

You didn’t know what exactly made your brain short-circuit. Was it the hoarse voice combined with the praise? The way the blue eyes suddenly got darker? Or both together?

And you didn’t even know how you found yourself underneath Neil again, flipped on your stomach, your hands behind your back. With one cheek pressed against the cold mat, you shivered at the sudden warmth of his uneven breath on your neck. 

A throaty chuckle made your heart skip a bit. “Two can play the game, darling,” he purred as his lips brushed against your ear. 

Your mind went blank again. 

Somehow, you made your way back to the shared locker room.

You leaned your back against the wall, crossing your arms. The tension between the two of you was almost volatile, elevating your heartbeat with every second passed and every step Neil made your way. 

“You’re insufferable.”

You grinned slyly as your eyes flared up. 

“The feeling is mutual, blondie.”

The way his gaze got even darker made your breath hitch. The burning sensation inside of you was something more than hatred now, not caring if you were ready to admit it or not.

He smacked his tongue, a vicious smile dangled in the corner of his lips. 

“You really should stop calling me that.”

The hidden threat in his tone made your mouth dry. You raised a brow and held your breath. 

“Or?”

He closed in on you and grabbed your chin harshly.

“Or I’ll make you.” 

You flashed your teeth and taunted him again. 

“Can’t wait to see you try.”

Neil hummed and moved a pad of his thumb against your lips, making you gasp breathlessly and lose all the resolve you had left. A dry chuckle in response to your expression was enough to haze your mind. You tilted your head as Neil leaned in, drawing his attention just where you wanted him. It took all your willpower not to sigh when he sucked at the skin just below your ear and your fingers raked through blonde hair, pulling Neil even closer. 

His hands roamed your body hungrily while his mouth moved down your neck. When you felt his fingers going up your thigh, you tugged at his t-shirt, and as they moved even higher, your hips bucked involuntarily, so eager to feel him where you needed him the most.

A sharp chuckle against your collarbone as he palmed over the almost completely soaked-through fabric of your shorts sent a bolt of pleasure through your every nerve. You could feel your core pulsing even harder as his long fingers rubbed you just right.

Your hand flew back up and yanked at his hair, making him look at you just before you trailed his jawline with your mouth. Neil groaned and a laugh rattled in your chest. 

You reached for his waistband, but he was faster. Next thing you knew, your shorts and panties were gone and Neil lifted you and pinned you to the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he slid his arm around your lower back. You nearly cried out when he thrust into you mercilessly; instead, you dug your nails into his back and sank your teeth in your bottom lip. As Neil picked up the pace, you clung to him for dear life. The heat radiating from his body carried the musky smell mixed with the almost fade-out scent of his cologne, the combination so intoxicating it made you lightheaded. You felt yourself tighten around him as he ground into you relentlessly, and pathetic whine escaped your mouth. Hearing that, Neil slowed down, almost stopping and you groaned in frustration when you realized what he was doing. 

“I hate you,” you uttered through gritted teeth, panting heavily, rolling your hips, longing for the friction that son of a bitch was purposely denying you.

Neil pulled back enough so you could see the roguish sparks in his eyes accompanied by a mischievous grin. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teased, his voice low and raspy.

You huffed, outraged by the audacity and he laughed, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he picked up where he’d left off. The fire he’d just fueled blazed in your veins, your heart raced in your chest and you felt yourself climbing the peak again. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling yourself closer, you frantically gasped for air and squeezed your eyes shut as you came undone with a loud moan, the pleasure hitting every fiber of your body in violent shockwaves. That was enough to send Neil over the edge, a deep groan escaping his mouth as he came into you, tightening his grasp on you almost painfully. 

At that moment, you were nothing but a trembling mess in his arms. Coming down, you pressed your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths intertwined. 

When both of you regained your senses, you pushed him away and picked up your clothes. As you were both decent enough, you glared at Neil.

“This changes nothing,” you said. 

The self-satisfied look in his eyes made you realize your mistake. 

No nickname. 

You cursed internally, but it was already too late. He’d had it his way, in the end. 

Neil’s lips curled in a half-smile.

“How tragic.”

(next chapter ->)

[fandomlovingfreak]

Healing His Heart (12/?)

Young Remus Lupin/Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 1715

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link I Tiktok Link

Summary: (y/n) is two years younger than him, a popular Slytherin, and Regulus Black’s best friend. Yet he can’t help but be attracted to her bewitching personality and sweet smile. Unfortunately, his er–problem makes it harder to get close to others. Despite his attempts to push her away (for her own good) she seems determined to worm her way into his life.

Enjoy

"What're you two so happy about?" Sirius asks the next morning. Something about his eyes says he knows what went down last night. Remus chooses to ignore it, sitting down next to (y/n).

"I was just telling (y/n) about one of the times I threw a stick, and you ran to get it before realizing what you've done."

"That was only once!" Sirius frowns, taking a large bite of his breakfast.

James chuckles into his pumpkin juice.

"The fact that it happened at all--" Remus pulls (y/n) to his side, grabbing a piece of toast off the platter.

Sirius pouts, "change the subject."

"Quit teasing him, Rem," (y/n) steals the piece of toast from his hand.

"Hey!" Remus watches as she takes a bite, "I was eating that!"

"Bummer," (y/n) finishes off the toast.

"(y/n)," Regulus walks up to the table, "ready for Potions?"

"Oh! I have to run back to my dorm to get my notes. I'll meet you there?"

"You should probably get going then."

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "yeah, yeah." She turns her attention back towards Remus, "see you later?"

"Library?"

(y/n) brushes her lips against his temple, "of course."

He watches her as she rushes out of the Great Hall. Maybe he's stared too far too long where she's disappeared because he hears Sirius's dramatic gasp. 

Remus turns towards his friend just as Sirius whisper yells, "You two slept together!"

"What?  How-- ?" James and Peter look at him with shock. He brushes his fingers through his bangs.

"How do I know?" Sirius laughs, "you two are not discrete whatsoever."

"I thought we were incredibly discrete--"

"Moons, you had your hands all over her all of breakfast. You're usually a bit more reserved than that."

"That's not a good enough reason to know that--" He flushes.

"Well..." Sirius makes a face, "I may have overheard the two of you last night..."

"You? What? Sirius!" Remus is-- appalled? Embarrassed? 

"I didn't stick around, nor did I interrupt! You should be thanking me. If it had been James, he definitely would've barged in without thinking."

"Hey! I would have not!" James elbows Sirius, "I wouldn't have, I promise Moons. It's Peter you should be worried about if you're doing that sort of activity in the dorm."

"Where else would I--?" He stops himself, unsure if he wants to know their answers but somewhat curious despite his reservation.

"Empty classrooms, closets," Sirius names places on his fingers.

"The common room in the early morning," James joins in.

"Hold up? Was that what that noise was last month at two A.M.?" Sirius asks, looking impressed with his friend.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," James hides a smirk behind his pumpkin juice.

"Yeah, I'm not having sex in any of those places." Maybe it's the ridiculous romantic in him, but he can't imagine doing anything sexual outside of a bedroom. Besides, (y/n) deserved even the little bit of romance he could put together in their current environment.

Sirius raises his eyebrows, obviously not convinced, "sometimes there are no other options."

He snorts, "I think I can control myself enough to get back to the dorm."

The other two exchange a look, seeming like they don't entirely believe that declaration.

***

"I have a brilliant prank to pull on the Slytherins," Sirius whispers to him in class.

Remus half hears this as he frantically scribbles down notes, "yeah?"

"Are you listening?" Sirius hisses.

Remus makes a noise in the back of his throat, hoping it seems like he is.

"Moony!" Sirius elbows him.

"Mister Black!" McGonagall's shrill voice rings through the classroom.

Sirius looks up sheepishly, "Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you have something to tell the class?"

"No, ma'am." He smiles in her direction.

"Good. Do you know the answer to the question I just asked?"

"No, ma'am..."

"Pity. How about you, Mister Lupin?"

"Gamp."

"Excellent. Perhaps if you paid a little more attention, Mister Black, you'd have known the answer."

"Sorry..." Sirius's usually pale cheeks are stained pink.

Remus gives him a look, going back to his notes.

"I'll tell you aft--" 

Sirius is shut up by a shrill, "Mister Black!"

"Sorry, ma'am..."

***

"What was the brilliant prank that almost got you detention?" Remus asks as they're walking from Transfiguration.

"Oh yeah! I thought it would be hilarious to charm their robes to look like Gryffindor robes. Reg was acting like the worst thing that could possibly happen to him would be being forced to wear Red and Gold... and well, I want to make the nightmare true."

"That's your whole plan?"

"Do you not think its great?" Sirius scoffs.

"I dunno. It seems pretty harmless, honestly." Their pranks had been legendary their entire time at Hogwarts. Why stop at a simple charm? "it would be more brilliant if we charmed them to be invisible." The words leave his lips before he can stop them. This could be pushing the limits of pranking.

Sirius grins, smacking him affectionately on the shoulder, "you're a genius, Moons! That would be perfect!"

Remus worries his lip between his teeth, feeling like he couldn't take back the words. The idea was in Sirius's head now, and once Sirius caught the scent of an idea that he liked, he tended not to let it go.

***

The prank logistics are laid out in the deep, dark night in the Gryffindor Common Room. Once the final fourth-year girl, with a stack of books the size of a mountain, leaves the common room, the boys huddle together at the table.

"I've researched the spell. It shouldn't be too difficult," Sirius lays out a book with the instructions for the spell.

Remus stares down at the book with the rest of them. He can't believe that Sirius had taken the time-- well, actually, he isn't that surprised he took the time and effort for this prank. Sirius always seemed to choose any distraction over school.

"Who's going to cast it?" Peter asks, looking nervous.

"I will, of course." Sirius grins.

"When?" James pulls the book towards him, moving his glasses up his nose.

"After dessert."

***

"You can't tell (y/n) anything!" Sirius looks at him seriously.

"I'm definitely not letting you turn my girlfriend's robes invisible, Pads." Remus leans back in his chair. The thought of anyone seeing her the way he gets to irritates him.  Nope, it's not happening.

"How--"

"I'll get her to sit by us. I refuse to let you prank her like that."

Sirius sighs, "fine. You know you're acting awfully protective for after the Full Moon."

Remus frowns, "She's my girlfriend! How can you blame me?"

Sirius makes a disgusted noise, "you're no fun in a relationship."

***

Remus watches as (y/n) walks down the hallway towards him. Just as she's passing by, he tugs her into the dark corner.

(y/n) nearly screams in surprise, but he covers her mouth with his hand. She stares up at him for a second before she registers it's just him. Remus removes his hand from her mouth, smiling sheepishly.

"What in the world are you doing?" she lightly smacks his chest.

"Don't wear your robes tonight at dinner, love." Remus pulls at her sleeve.

(Y/n) frowns, "what do you mean don't wear my robes to dinner? What are you scheming, Remus Lupin?"

He grins, "just trust me. Actually, come and sit by me tonight at dinner just in case."

"What are you planning, Remus?" Her frown deepens.

"Can't tell you. Would ruin all the fun."

"Nothing about what you're saying sounds like fun."

"Just— sit with me tonight. I'll give you one of my spare robes—"

"You think your spare robes," she tries not to smile, "is going to fit me? I'll be tripping every other step. Have you not recognized I am shorter than you?"

"I can fix that—"

"My god, Remus. What the hell are you planning?"

"I can't have you ruining the fun."

"So you're scheming against my house then?"

He laughs, "you'll see. Just follow me. I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire."

"You're ridiculous, you know."

"I am very aware."

**

She is drowning in the robes he gives her. But he kind of likes it. Likes seeing her in his clothing, even if it is funny how the sleeves cover her hands. With a wave of his wand, he shrinks the robes just enough to look presentable.

"This is so stupid. I look ridiculous."

He wraps his arms around her waist, leaning his chin against her shoulder as she examines the robes in the mirror.

"What do you mean? They fit better now."

(Y/n) rolls her eyes, "I mean—  Gryffindor ? It doesn't look right on me at all."

Remus rolls his eyes, "that's the problem?"

"Of course," she turns around in his arms, "I've never been a fan of red."

Remus laughs, pulling her close to press his lips against hers. 

"Oi! What're ya doing?" James walks into the room with Sirius and Peter close behind.

"What does it look like?" Remus growls back.

"Wait—  is (y/n) wearing Gryffindor robes ?" Sirius comes closer to examine the familiar red fabric.

"Unfortunately." (Y/n) quips back.

"You told her!" James points an accusing finger at Remus.

"I told her nothing. Just don't want the two of you hexing my girlfriend."

"So we're dressing her up as one of our own then, eh?" Sirius laughs, pulling at her sleeve. 

(y/n) pulls her arm away from him, squinting. "What are you planning to do?"

James and Sirius share a look, "we are  not  telling you. You'd run off to little Reggie the moment we did. Gotta make sure she doesn't runoff. Keep an eye on her."

"Like Remus will let go of her for even a moment." James snickers.

"Shut up," Remus, though, doesn't let go of (y/n) 's hand.

***

Remus had attempted to pull her onto his lap at dinner, to which (y/n) shoved him away with a laugh. "As if Lupin."

"It was worth the try."

No one really notices (y/n) is at the Gryffindor table, too used to the Marauders doing as they please. 

And true to what Sirius had joked about, Remus didn't keep his hands from her at all. Usually, his hand resting on the top of her thigh, but occasionally he moved it to hold her hand in his or rest his hand next to hers, making sure they were touching at all times. 

Around dessert, Remus, Sirius, and James share a look before Sirius is snickering. He says something under his breath, waving his wand under the table, and— 

Peals of shrieks come from the Slytherin table.

(Y/n) sits up straighter trying to see what's happening at her house's table. One girl ducks down under the table, a few of the guys try to cover up—

"What did you do?" She looks over at Remus, obviously demanding an answer.

"A simple hex that turns clothing invisible—"

"Remus!" (Y/n) stands from the bench, "why would you do this?" She looks at James and Sirius, looking for an explanation from them.

"Don't look at us! It was your boyfriend's idea—"

Fuck.

"I would expect cruelty from those two," her burning eyes turn towards him, "but I would never have assumed you would think up something so horrible, Remus Lupin."

Maybe it's the disappointment in her eyes or how clearly she displays her outrage, but he feels cold shame run down his body.

"(Y/n)—it was a harmless prank—"

"Harmless?" Her voice has an edge of rage in the tone, "what is harmless about this? Do you really think  public humiliation is harmless ?"

"No, but—"

"What the fuck else is this besides cruelty? You're seventeen years old! What is funny about embarrassing children to you?"

He opens his mouth then closes it, not being able to figure out how to respond to that. James and Sirius begin to laugh.

"And you!" She turns her rage towards them. They immediately shut up, "Sirius!  That's your brother!  And James, I don't have any words for you. You're such an ass. All four of you should be ashamed of yourselves." She climbs over the bench, stomping out of the Great Hall. The rest of the hall, minus the Slytherin's have stopped eating, all attention on the Marauders.

"(Y/n)!" Remus tries to scramble after her but is stopped by McGonagall's stern voice.

"Sit down, Mr. Lupin." He turns around, feeling like he's been dunked in an ice bath, "Based on Ms. (y/l/n) 's outburst, I can infer this prank was the work of the four of you, am I correct?"

James, Sirius, and Peter nod slowly. He feels numb. "As Ms. (y/l/n) has already said everything I would have.  Quite a bit angrier than I would have dared to . I am sure you understand the severity of your actions and the punishment that comes. I'll see the four of you in detention every Sunday for a month, then."

**

"I can't believe she—" Sirius is enraged over (y/n)'s yelling after the prank.

"She wasn't wrong, Sirius," Remus's been trying to figure out what to do about (y/n) during the rest of dinner and as they walked back to the Gryffindor dorms. He feels  awful . There's no way she'll stay with him after this... It terrifies him to think he may have pushed away the...  love of his life.  And over a stupid prank of all things.

"What do you mean she wasn't wrong?" Sirius is pissed, but Remus knows he'll get over it. Even if (y/n) cost them their Sundays for a month, (y/n) is still like Sirius's little sister. 

"It was childish. A really stupid prank. Some of those kids are first years, Sirius."

Sirius considers this for a moment, "but we didn't prank her!"

"They're her friends... wouldn't you be angry if someone did something like that to one of us? Or to Gryffindor?"

"Well, obviously—"

"Then use your imagination to see why she's mad." Anger bubbles in his chest. He should never have suggested the  invisible part  of the prank. Sirius wanting to hex their robes to look like their own was enough! Why couldn't he control his damn tongue?

[olivinesea]

In the Golden Dark, pt. 4

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

a/n: Everyone better have their toothbrush ready bc this is about to rot your teeth right out your head. This concludes my brief flirtation with happiness, I hope it’s everything you wanted. Back to regular programming after this. ~2.4k

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. - Sarah Williams

Dysania, Hotch thought to himself, dysania is what Spencer said it’s called. Before he’d started spending so much time talking with Spencer he’d never known there were official terms for so many of the things he took for granted, things he thought were just a part of life. This one for example, “dysania”: the state of finding it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Surely everyone found this hard to do he had countered. Not really, I guess, Spencer had shrugged. Not everyone. They had both grown quiet, considering the spaces between the words, the information unintentionally shared. These types of moments happened often and Hotch wasn’t all too sure how he felt about them. It was uncomfortable to share about himself, but it seemed to happen so easily with Spencer. Like some piece of him was reaching out, pushing past his normal guard to grasp at the other man, to try to pull him close with details he’d never intended to share with anyone.

Spencer responded kindly, often matching with his own stories, his own fears. It felt so natural, the exchange of ideas and the flow back and forth between mind and heart. Spencer, who so often found it tricky to connect the cues some people were born understanding, had no trouble understanding Aaron’s small hesitations, his silences following the realization that he’d just said something out loud that would normally remain internal. Spencer was guarded too, in different ways and for different reasons, but the walls were there nevertheless. He’d had trouble all his life understanding what people expected from him so he’d learned to minimize, to live inside his own head. He’d grown in his time at the BAU, found friendship and family where he hadn’t realized he was lacking. But there were always some things he held back.

People loved to be dazzled by his intellect, by the way he could remember the most inconsequential detail in a text or connect an obscure reference to its source. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed that part of himself as well. But sometimes it felt hollow, just a party trick he was brought out to perform and then put away until wanted again. The other things, the personal things, he had never learned how to share those and had always figured no one was that interested anyway. Somewhere along the way it became a compulsion to hide certain details, convinced that if everyone knew they would reject him. His mother and her illness, his own doubts about his stability, his need for help at times; he pulled those secrets in close, wrapping his fingers around them and squeezing until they stopped squirming so much. It wasn’t until he listened to Aaron haltingly give context to an offhanded comment that he dared to pull out some of his own worries. So they clumsily exchanged confidences, slowly building a new structure with each brick they pulled out of their walls.

Knowing the term didn’t help with the issue though. Didn’t change the fact that without the pressing responsibility of a weekday, where people expected him to be certain places at certain times, Hotch was finding himself unable to get out of bed. He stared at the clock, narrowing his eyes, disbelieving what the numbers were telling him. How could it be that someone who slept so little could spend so much time laying down?

He rolled away from the cursed illumination and glared at the wall instead. He could see Rossi’s confrontation played out on the blank white surface. As if he had been outside his own body, he watched his reactions, studying the degree of sincerity. Was he really making logical decisions or was he only wishful? He needed to talk to Spencer, needed to come up with a plan before this got out on its own. He had considered that option too—not doing anything and letting everyone else deal with their own feelings. He was tempted but he knew in the long run that would not work out well. He was still the leader of his team, despite whatever feelings he was finding himself caught up in. If he acted soon, he could still control this.

His thoughts returned to scolding him about how he should get up, take care of some errands he had been putting off. At least do some laundry after being gone all week. He closed his eyes imagining the laundry, the clean warm fabric pressed against his face. One of the few reliable pleasures in life. He rolled onto his back and stretched his long limbs away from himself. He could do that at least.

There was a brief moment of anxiety as he willed his muscles to contract, to pull him upright, unsure if they would cooperate this time. Thankfully they did and he shuffled around the room, collecting errant socks and emptying his go-bag that he had left on a chair the night before. He had managed to get the laundry started and was fumbling with the coffee maker when he heard a knock at his door. He spilled the grounds as his head snapped up to glare at the sound. He swore and did his best to sweep what he could salvage into the filter, placing it correctly and flipping the switch before going to investigate the intrusion.

He found Spencer standing outside his door looking a little guilty. They eyed each other, Hotch in sweats and t-shirt, hair standing up at odd angles, Spencer dressed for a day out in cool late winter sun, his favorite purple scarf wrapped around his neck for luck. Spencer’s eyes darted around the room behind Hotch. It was dark, the only light coming in from one small window. The rest of the curtains were drawn and he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, not needing them to take care of basic tasks.

“Sorry, I tried to call,” Spencer wrung his hands as he made an effort to stop staring at the gloom in front of him.

Hotch thought about his phone, how he had purposely turned it off, something he rarely did. He had been so tired last night, he’d needed to ensure a few hours without someone requiring his attention. He’d felt a thrill of rebellion as he’d tossed it aside but he must be really out of it to not have checked it yet today. After a moment of awkwardness while they both contemplated how they ended up here, Hotch invited Spencer in for coffee.

“It should be ready in minute,” he said while waving him inside.

Spencer walked toward the kitchen where he remained standing, hesitant. There had been a wild impulse that drove him here, even when Hotch didn’t answer his phone. He’d been repeating conversations with himself, things he needed to say, imagining all the different responses he might get. His mind had been so full of these scenarios as he made his way from his apartment, but now that he was here he wondered if maybe this hadn’t been better left alone. Who was he to demand things?

“You can put your stuff down,” Aaron said with a slight smile.

“What?” He looked at his bag that he was clutching tightly, his knuckles turning white. Thoughts unmistakable as they ran across his face, he glanced around, trying to decide where to put it. Trying to get his bearings in this unfamiliar environment.

“Here,” Aaron held out his hand, offering to to take it. Spencer shrugged it off and handed it over to Aaron who set it on the dining table. Meanwhile Spencer sat on the edge of one of the bar stools and unwound his scarf, hands too nervous to stay still, and set it on the stool next to him. Aaron returned to the kitchen and pulled out a pair of mugs. He didn’t bother to ask how Spencer liked his coffee, everyone already knew that deviancy. Instead he just handed him the box of sugar, a spoon and a full mug. Spencer kicked his heels against the rungs of the stool.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling into the warm curls of steam. Hotch hummed, leaning back against the counter, his own mug wrapped tightly in his fingers. He was awake but he wasn’t fully registering what was happening. He hoped the coffee would alleviate that feeling.

“Sorry to just show up, I was going for a walk and…” Spencer trailed off, hearing the excuse he had prepared out loud, he found it sounded false. He rubbed his thumb against the warm mug. He inhaled deeply, then said, “I wanted to see you.”

He looked up to check Aaron’s reaction. Frustratingly he didn’t appear to react at all, looking back steadily, absorbing the information. Then he nodded, as if he was answering a question, maybe a response to something in his own mind.

“It’s ok, I wanted to see you as well. We need to talk.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide at that but Aaron waved his hand and tried not to laugh outright at the horrified expression. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

Spencer relaxed a little, enough to sip his coffee again. Hotch could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. He rubbed his head, worsening the disarray there and sighed. He needed to level the playing field somehow. Spencer made a risky move coming here unannounced. The power imbalance of the situation, already uneven for so many other reasons, was not going to help them get through this conversation. They needed neutral ground, somewhere they were both comfortable, or at least distracted enough, to talk about their feelings without becoming so anxious they never really said anything.

“Let me take a shower and then we can get out of here.”

“Oh, ok, we don’t have to, I just…”

“Spencer, I’m sure you didn’t want to spend the day in my apartment,” he said firmly. He let his eyes scan around the room, seeing it from another’s perspective. It was barely lived in; even when he was physically present he wasn’t living there. There were no personal touches, no paint on the wall, no photos. It was only the shell of a home. He had done all his living in the home he’d shared with Haley and Jack. There had been no reason to try to build any of that again on his own. “We could go to the Science Museum?”

“Oh, I love that place,” Spencer sounded both excited and relieved.

Hotch gulped the rest of his coffee, ignoring the burn on the roof of his mouth. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Spencer stayed put for several minutes after he left the room. Frozen in his seat, afraid to touch anything else, certain someone as deliberate as Aaron would notice anything out of place. But he had been welcomed in, a voice in his mind argued. It was the same voice that had pushed him along all the way to this point. The same voice that insisted what was happening was real and wasn’t going to let him worry it away.

He forced himself to stand up, carrying his coffee cup through the room, drawn like a magnet to the bookshelves. It was a little dark but up close he could read the titles. They had talked about books plenty during their late night conversations, he knew Aaron was a big reader. But there was something different about seeing the tangible evidence of that, the wrinkled bindings, the books stacked horizontally where he had run out of space on the shelf so he’d had to fit them where he could. There was an organization to the shelves, though it wasn’t immediately apparent. Perhaps the only thing in the apartment that felt alive, it was obvious that someone was regularly pulling books off and replacing others. He ran his index finger along the spine of one, thinking about the discussion they'd had about it. He was about to pull it off the shelf when there was a voice just behind him.

“Find anything good?”

He twitched, pulling his hand back, thankful that he’d finished his coffee so the movement didn’t cause any spills. He turned to look at Aaron, dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, hair still a little damp. They smiled at each other.

“Do you want any more? I probably have some to-go cups.”

Spencer shook his head and passed the empty mug to Hotch’s outstretched hand.

“Ok, I’ll be ready in a minute.”

He left to take the mug to the kitchen and grab his keys. Spencer’s scarf was still on the stool so he grabbed it and headed to the front door. There Spencer was standing holding his bag, not looking quite as nervous as before.

“You forgot this.” Without warning, he stepped in close to loop it carefully behind Spencer’s neck. He could feel Spencer staring at him but he avoided his gaze, operating on instinct. He didn’t let go of the tail ends of the scarf, playing with the fringe between his fingers. Neither man moved, their bodies dangerously close. He risked a look into Spencer’s face and found him watching intently. Aaron started to inhale, to say something to break the tension, when Spencer leaned forward and pressed his mouth against his lips. It was surprisingly soft, traces of mint and coffee mingling pleasantly. Aaron couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Spencer rocked back, looking for approval in the other man’s face, tentative but also absolutely certain that he’d done the right thing. He barely had a second to confirm the happiness on Aaron’s face before he was pulled forward by the ends of his scarf, this time to be met with a deeper kiss. A kiss that left no room for questions about where they stood. Spencer wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, breaking away from the kiss and burying his face in the hollow of his shoulder. He felt overwhelmed as his blood pulsed loudly through his veins. Eyes closed tightly against the warm skin, he did his best just to breathe.

Aaron rubbed his back lightly, understanding, waiting for Spencer’s senses to calm. After a minute, Spencer pulled away a little, just enough to see Aaron’s face. A large hand cupped his face, thumb running softly along the cheekbone. He closed his eyes, focusing everything on that touch. He’d thought about this moment a lot, anticipating the multitude of different outcomes. Now that it was real he needed to remember every detail exactly as it was. He covered Aaron’s hand with his own, looking into his dark eyes again.

“Let’s go.”

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Seventeen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Strong language and an air of discomfort.

Notes: I hope this reads OK as it’s quite dialogue-heavy.

Tags: @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

The night shifts weren’t all bad. From time to time, they were even as good as “pretty straight forward”. They proved especially useful when trying to finish patient notes and random admin that always got left to the very end of the shift. Perhaps they’d endure a tidy-out of the stock cupboards if the crew was feeling generous. Since O’Brien had taken up his post at the hospital years earlier, he had insisted upon mandatory training updates for the ER units every three to four months (the national average was about once a year) so the team were regularly reminded not to set fire to their computers and not to leave boxes in places people could trip over. You’d be surprised how often both those things happened in an emerging crisis. 

“I swear he thinks we’re idiots half the time.” Complained Jack, his head now glued to the palm of his hand. Jack was hurtling towards an early retirement thanks to an ever-increasing distrust of the corporate environment ER departments found themselves in. We trained to save lives, he’d say, not file stat reports. He was so right, it hurt. 

The crew was sat round the reception desk. The ER was empty except for a local homeless man the team allowed in from time to time to sleep off his latest drunken adventures. 

“Who doesn’t know how to bend their knees when lifting something heavy?” Jack asked again. 

“Ryan for one.” Sarah joked, pointing her cold cup of tea towards the fellow nurse in question. Ryan was a tall and skinny guy, not dissimilar to Alexander Skarsgard in the right light but with less charm although he had left a few of the interns swooning of late. Shanna quite liked him, too. 

“One time, Sarah. One time and I suffered for it greatly.” Ryan remarked, spinning a full 360 in his swivel chair. “Did you tick ‘agree’ or ‘strongly agree’ for question eleven?” 

“Oh, if you don’t tick ‘strongly agree’ even if you only ‘agree’, they mark you down a couple of percentage points.” Entered Audrey, slamming down a pile of files on the desk beside Sarah. Their nightly routine just got more interesting. “Just get it over with. It’s not worth the effort. It’s just O’Brien being obsessed with stats again. He turns everything into a competition. I swear it’s unhealthy.”

Ryan looked momentarily confused before returning to face his computer screen. He re-read the question for the fifth time and rubbed his eyes in resignation. Something about 3am made this far too complicated. 

“When did you even find time to do this, Aud?” Jack asked, turning back to Sarah and Audrey in time to witness their shared look self-satisfaction. “I’ve been sat here for half an hour and am still only part way through the first section.” 

“I logged in at home earlier.” she responded before catching Sarah’s quizzical look. “Well, Michael did most of it for me.” 

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Jack, chucking his pen on the table, giving up. “Got no chance then, have I? Michael’s a bloody genius. Hey, how much for him to do mine?” 

“Normally I’d say $100 but he’s pretty cheap these days.” shrugged Audrey. “Probably a fancy cigar would do.” 

“He still grumpy about the you-know-what?” whispered Sarah to her friend when the guys started joshing between themselves. 

Audrey leaned back on the desk beside her and took the mug from Sarah’s hands to take a sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness. For some reason, Sarah had to have at least three sugars in her tea if she was drinking it post-midnight. It helped to keep her more alert apparently. She didn’t drink it like that at any other time of the day. “No more than usual. Seems like we’re both unlucky in that department at the moment.” 

Sarah smiled at her in acknowledgement, lips thin before biting the inside of her cheek. 

Following their last meet-up, Chris had been decidedly quiet. Too quiet almost. It was weird. He hadn’t messaged her. He hadn’t called or visited their apartment except to collect a parcel he had left. Sarah has been out for a run at the time and had felt silently glad to have missed him. He hadn’t updated his twitter and there had been multiple sports events occurring that would have guaranteed a humblebrag or five. Shanna had pledged to buy rib-eye steaks for a Saturday night meal during a Celtics game and he had cancelled at the last minute citing an interview he had conveniently forgotten. Even Audrey thought it was weird. If anything was guaranteed to get his attention and bring him out of whatever funk he was in, it was the promise of sports and a ‘Grade A’ barbeque. 

Shanna merely put it down to his laziness or him having something better turn up. Scott had started replacing Chris around their apartment, wanting to get some of his own distance from the tricky Zach situation and it helped her feel better knowing he was at least in touch with him if Shanna wasn’t. He was evidently still alive. 

Sarah decided to swap a couple of daytime stints to partner up with Audrey for the nights. She needed the comfort of working with a good friend to calm her down from whatever ledge her anxiety had placed her on. 

“You know that he’ll come back, right?” Audrey interrupted her thoughts. Maybe Sarah spoke too soon. “Haven’t you got that birthday thing for Lisa coming up?” 

That trip was a couple of weeks away yet. She was trying to bank some reasonable excuses but everything sounded lame in the cold light of day and Lisa was never going to accept her not coming as well. Surely things would have smoothed themselves out by then? 

“This won’t just fix itself, hun, you’ll need to speak to him eventually. And the sooner the better.” 

It was like Audrey had a hotline straight into Sarah’s psyche. It was unnerving at the best of times. Sarah knew she was right of course. It’s just, a little bit of distance would be a good thing, right? Even Chris himself had offered that advice from time to time, and stressing herself out at this point almost seemed counterintuitive. 

“I reckon you could go in an hour or so if you wanted.” Audrey offered, nudging her friend with her elbow to bring her back into the room. “It’s dead out there.”

“I hope not.” Sarah joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’d be shit at our jobs if that was the case.” 

Audrey laughed for the first time since Sarah could remember that day. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she enjoyed working alongside her so much, and why she didn’t mind if it resulted in overtime. 

“You wanna take patient referrals while I take the EPRs?” 

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” Sarah picked up the dozen or so documents sat in front of her and grabbed the nearest chair. Audrey told her she’d put the kettle on and nudged the guys still glued to their screens. Ryan had pretty much given up logical thinking and was now ticking random boxes. Jack was cursing under his breath. O’Brien was going to be in for a real treat when he could finally tabulate the responses. 

It was nearing 6.20am when Sarah and Audrey finally packed up to go. Matt and Stephanie had just arrived to take over for the morning, bringing a fresh perspective for the day. There wasn’t much for them to catch up on so it should be a smooth few hours at least. Sarah even ran a mop through the staff locker room as an added gift – Steph was a notorious clean freak – nearly tripping Greg up in the process. 

He’d been on leave for the past fortnight and his hair was a little longer than she remembered. A five o’clock shadow graced the lower part of his face and it suited him more than she thought it would. He had kept up with the informal tie-less attire and he seemed to be, dare she it, enjoying himself. 

“God, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands up in a mock mea culpa. “I was just gonna put it away before heading out. It was a stupid place to leave it.” 

“Did you not take the Health and Safety refresher?” he joked, rebalancing himself and trying to play down the redness creeping into his cheeks from the embarrassment of temporarily losing his footing in front of her. 

“You gonna rat me out to O’Brien? ‘Cos you know as well as I do that he doesn’t need yet another reason to know he’s right.” She shifted the mop and bucket and placed them back in the supply closet before reaching for her bag again. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He moved passed her before turning to face her again. “Tell you the truth, I ghosted the last couple of tabs myself. Who knew there were so many ways to ask questions about standing in elevators?” 

Sarah rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Yeh. I can’t wait to have the team meeting when he realises we’ve all pretty much done the same thing. That’s gonna be fun. I might finally take some of my holiday.” 

“Yeh, good plan. Hey listen,” His words stopped her in her tracks, feet from the exit. “Um, I know it’s been a while but I was wondering if you might want to reschedule that tennis match some time? Or if not, we could get some dinner or something? There’s that new sushi place on Reagan Street. It’s meant to be really good if you fancy it?” 

She was indeed familiar with that very restaurant thanks to the glowing reviews she had been unable to avoid since it opened. Audrey had only mentioned it a mere thousand times in her presence. Word was that bookings were now months in advance so she wasn’t sure how Greg was hoping to find a table unless he wanted to make plans with her in November. Given the number of commitments he always appeared to have going on, it wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibility. 

“Wow, I thought that place was fully booked?” 

“Yeh, it is, but I went to college with one of the investors and he’s promised me a one-off.” 

Of course he did. Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling out loud, imagining Audrey’s face when she would inevitably find out. To be honest, she was genuinely surprised he was still showing a minor interest in her. When she finally made eye contact with him, his earnestness was practically shining. Had he always had perfect skin?  

“Um…” That was a good start, she thought. 

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not.” He helpfully pre-empted her awkward rejection but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’ve been meaning to go is all and I knew you liked sushi and figured it might be fun? They have live Jazz on Sunday nights.” 

When did he find out she liked sushi? And live Jazz? Just how much had Audrey told him about her? 

Realising she probably looked perplexed, she shuffled her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder and tried to relax the awkwardness setting in between them. It was still quiet and no one was within earshot that she could figure out of her peripheral vision. 

“It’s not you, Greg, I promise. It’s just, I’m not really looking to get into anything right now. With anyone. Plus, we work together and…I’m sorry. I hope that’s OK?” 

“Hey, look, I promise it won’t be awkward. There’s absolutely no expectations from me and if you change your mind, just let me know, yeh? I literally know no one else who likes Sashimi so I can’t waste my only chance to get a table.” He chuckled and she felt more at ease. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m a pretty crap date.” She smiled at him as she edged herself down the hall, putting space between them both literally and figuratively. “You wouldn’t be missing out.” 

“Oh, I doubt that somehow.” He returned her smile. “I’m serious, though. Just let me know. Anytime. No expiration date.” 

And with that, she had been left dumbfounded by two men in the space of a single week. 

* 

It would have been easier to get the early morning bus home at this time, as tired as she was starting to feel. She hadn’t slept well in the last few days and she had a creeping nausea from the lack of proper rest. The walk and crisp, fresh air might do her some good. It was practically full daylight even at this hour, and it was sometimes fun to watch people on their own way to work, huffing along, trying not to drop their coffees. 

The out-of-town school bus passed her a few minutes out from her apartment and as she rounded the corner, she got this weird sense that someone was watching her. Another corner turned and she could see her building in the near distance. Still, she couldn’t shake it. She stopped, pretending to fumble for her phone in her pocket and turned around swiftly to see a sweaty Chris stop a few steps behind her. 

It took her a moment to register it was in fact him, his beard fuller and a Red Sox cap pulled down low over his eyes. He had sweats and sneakers on and looked like he was on a run. Honestly, if someone else had spotted him from this distance, they would have worried he was going to attack her. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to fully face him. “What are you doing out at this time?” 

He didn’t respond at first. He shuffled from one foot to the other before grounding himself and taking a couple of steps towards her. Again, he shuffled back a step like he was rethinking his move. She didn’t appreciate seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. 

“Five months out from filming some pre-shoots so figured I’d make a start.” He finally spoke. Not a really a smile but he at least sounded OK. 

“Cool.” She said, nodding back at him. “Um, I’m not sure if Shanna is awake yet but do you want to come inside for some water or coffee?” 

“Yeh, that’d be great. Thanks.” 

She turned to continue walking on. For a few long moments, he stayed walking slightly behind her. A couple more strides and he had decided to catch up. The last time it had taken this long to walk this same street, she had been so drunk she had narrowly avoided falling into her neighbour’s front garden. 

“Five months? You’re not that out of shape.” She tried to make a joke. It was the only thing she could think of. Audrey would be eye-rolling like a champ if she could see them now. 

Chris knew she was trying to make small talk now so he decided to indulge her. It was a fair response, he thought - he was doing OK - as he followed her up the stairs deliberately keeping two or three behind her in an effort to keep it casual. 

“Oh, y’know. I fluctuate pretty easily. A few pizzas here and there and it’s game over.” 

They walked into her kitchen and she had been right in assuming Shanna was still asleep. Unless she had awoken really early but that was highly unlikely, unless there was a sale at Ted Baker she didn’t know about. 

He lingered in the doorway while she searched the fridge for a bottle of water. Grabbing one from the back, she turned to hand it to him expecting him to be within an arm’s reach from her but he had been distracted by something down the hall before turning back to her. Gratefully, he accepted it and walked into the kitchen to take up his usual spot leaning against the counter. 

“Sorry, did you say you wanted a coffee?” She offered. 

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t really take caffeine until this afternoon.” 

“Sorry. I always forget how strict it is.” She apologised, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He took a long swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact from her. “No need to apologise. You OK? Night shift?” 

“Yeh. Pretty quiet, thankfully.” 

“I’ve always meant to ask but what is it like, a night shift? I can’t work out if it would be worse or not.” 

She understood what he meant and laughed. “It can go either way to be honest but it’s been quiet the last few nights. Nothing crazy. I caught up with some paperwork, so…” She shrugged again, acutely aware of how boring she must sound. 

He nodded at her. “Aren’t people supposed to be crazier in the summertime?” 

“Well, kids are around more and families tend to spend more time together, so…” 

The apartment was unnervingly quiet now which was weird. She could hear the uptake in traffic outside which provided some relief that perhaps he couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. She could make out some small sweat patches on his hoodie and it did something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned to switch the kettle off. 

“What?” He asked. 

She jerked her head back around to face him. “Huh?” 

“You were thinking of something. Your neck just went red.” He smiled, tilting his head at her and relishing the look of surprise making its way over her features, knowing he’d caught her out. 

That was news to her. She knew she had “tells” but a red neck was not usually one of them. How come no one had ever told her about this? 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not.” She inquired, playfully narrowing her eyes at him in an effort to lighten the mood. 

He shrugged a shoulder at her, a smirk starting to cross his fine features. Joshing with her was good. She’d take that. A small step in the right direction. 

“Sometimes, it’s really obvious. You get it when you’re embarrassed about something, or when you try to lie. I’d never really noticed it before, but...” He paused. His expression started to turn more thoughtful and she wished he’d just continue to make fun of her instead. 

“Guess I won’t be playing poker anytime soon.” She finished the thought for him. 

“Yeh, no, you’d be rubbish at that. Just terrible.” He took another swig from his bottle and waited for her to throw something at him. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The room went quiet again. She stirred her mug of coffee and offered him another chance at one which he politely refused although his discipline was waning slightly now he could smell it. 

“So this is fine.” He said after a couple of minutes, nodding in a slightly exaggerated manner. He looked out of the kitchen window. “We can do this, right? No awkwardness. No embarrassment. Just normal, everyday conversation.” 

“’Course,” she nodded in agreement. 

“Start as we mean to go on, right?” 

She nodded again. This felt like a trap and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Chris had a knack for saying and doing two different things at the same time, an intimidating ability that often put people on edge if he thought it would serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Probably the actor in him. When you called him out, he would aggressively defend himself which only served to prove the point you were making in the first place. 

Scott was the only one, truly, who knew when it was happening. It had taken Sarah years to get to a similar position but now, she wasn’t sure she was remotely close to it. 

“It’s as good a starting point as any, I guess.” She shrugged again, sipping from her cup. 

“So there’s no need to ignore me then.”  

“I haven’t been ignoring you, have I?” 

“You tell me. I’m just pre-empting it is all. I’m just saying we can still interact, you and me, if we need to. Like, it doesn’t always have to be in social settings with other people around.” He took a final drink from his bottle and turned to locate the recycling pot stashed away in the corner. Even with a mundane task, he always looked cool doing it. 

“So don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright then. That’s good to know.” She shot him a raised eyebrow which he caught and returned with a sly smirk. “I’m just trying to be sensible. We have to get this right or else there’s no point.” 

“I know, I get that, too.” If he wasn’t attempting to be serious before, he was now. He had a hand on his hip and seemed to have grown a few inches in height. “What do you think I’m trying to say?” 

“I…think I’m on the backfoot again and it’s weird.” She held a hand up in defence. 

“Hey, I’m just doing what we agreed, OK? I’m just following your rules.” 

“They’re not rules.” She struggled to regulate the volume in her voice in case she disturbed Shanna. “And you’re making it sound like I’m controlling the situation when I’m not. We both agreed on this. There’s no point being difficult about it.” 

Was he being difficult? Yes. Obviously, he was. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but happy definitely wasn’t it. Things were out of sorts and he hadn’t been able to eat carbs or sugar for four days so the withdrawal symptoms certainly weren’t helping. He should go easier on her. She was doing the thinking for the both of them. He should learn to be more grateful for that. 

He scratched the back of his head and let out an audible sigh in frustration. “I’ll try harder, I promise. We’ve got that cabin thing coming up with Mom, so…I promise I’ll be good.” 

He imitated the scout salute and she smiled at him, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

* 

Another night shift and Audrey and was starting to get suspicious. No one willingly switched for a night shift. For one thing, there was a disproportionate amount of recovery time. A couple of night shifts often took in excess of a week to recover from; a week that a nurse definitely did not have to spare. 

“He been buggin’ you?” she asked, finally growing tired of the silence. 

“Who?” Sarah looked up from the cabinet. “No, not really. We haven’t really spoken.” 

“So why are you ignoring him?” 

“I’m not ignoring him! Why does everyone think that?” 

“Who’s everyone?” 

Crap. Audrey had her there. Sarah open and closed her mouth without a sound coming out. She took a breath. “He’s not bugging me. He’s not. I’m just trying to limit the times we’re in the same place at the same time.” 

“Huh, you’d think he would at least allow you to have peace in your own home.”  

“Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been around all that much, but…at least I don’t have to worry about him showing up unannounced. It’s stupid but I feel way more awkward about him than I thought I would. It’s like I can’t even stand to be under his gaze.” 

Audrey glanced at her friend, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. Even for someone as verbose as she normally was, she was finding it a struggle. Sarah wasn’t much looking for words of comfort at the given time either. She was all too aware of the predicament she was in and how much responsibility laid at her feet. In her mind, waiting it out was the only logical solution she could come up with. The only logical solution that didn’t require more conversations with someone who could feasibly run rings around her “theory” that if they just stayed apart for a little while, they would suddenly and magically forget about the past couple of months. 

They stayed filing documents in silence again, the air seemingly getting thicker. 

“You ever spoken with someone and it’s like they’re thinking the complete opposite of what’s coming out of their mouth?” Sarah huffed while shoving the cabinet drawer closed. 

“Not really. That person’s usually me.” 

“But why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just be normal?”  

“I mean, it’s not my go-to response of course. It’s normally reserved for occasions when I am trying to indulge someone because I know they’re talking bullshit. Like, when I know Mike has been gambling but he tries to deny it? It’s just easier to figure him out that way.” 

Sarah froze to the spot, looking at her friend. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to lean back on the table behind her and crossed her arms. She stared at her shoes for a second. 

“Chris is a smart guy. I’ll give him that.” Audrey muttered loudly so she was sure Sarah could hear. 

“Give me something! I’m your friend here.” She implored her before chuckling to herself at Audrey’s face and her own apparent lack of self-awareness. 

“You know what I think? You’ve probably got withdrawal symptoms from the all the amazing sex you’ve had and now you’re sulking. I think you should get back on that horse and let him fuck you again. That’s what this is.” 

Sarah eyed her friend again. For once, she would love to hear someone tell her that she was right. “That’s really not helping, y’know.” 

“And this is?!” Audrey’s shriller tone cut through the dry air, smacking Sarah right in the face. “Honey, this isn’t healthy. You hiding out in the hospital and treating it like your own solace is not healthy at all. I love you but you are your own worst enemy.” 

“Alright, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your unswerving efforts to be honest with me at all times and not, like a normal pal, be comforting in any way.” Sarah comically bowed to her friend before considering leaving the office. She would have followed through with the idea as well if it wasn’t for the cosy warmth of O’Brien’s office versus the coldness of the ER department thanks to a leaking pipe. “It’s difficult. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fall out with you, Audrey.” 

Audrey just smiled at her. “I don’t know why you think you have to be the beacon of morality all the time, Sarah. Take a look around. No one else is. We all out here just trying to live our lives as best we can and a part of that is taking advantage of moments of happiness when we find them.” 

Something about what Audrey was saying did resonate with her but comparing two months of happiness with Chris to ten years with Shanna was not something she could in good conscience do. Shanna was her security blanket. She provided a comfort of living with someone with shared life experience, of knowing how little you thought about yourself because you were given up as a baby. Honestly, from the very first day they had met, Sarah felt lucky to know her. 

Yes, Shanna could be immature at times. Maybe a little selfish. She would often get carried away with trivial things and wasn’t the most reliable person, but what Sarah got in return was worth that and more. Her family enjoyed highlighting the maternal care Sarah would have to provide to someone who was seven months older than she was, but honestly it didn’t matter. 

Maybe this was one of the rare occasions where Audrey was wrong. 

Chris was a fling at best, Sarah told herself, when she was lying in bed struggling to fall asleep. When she was cold and missing his arms around her. They were both having shitty times and they both got something out of it. That was what Chris had said himself at the very beginning. 

Chris 08.15am: You home? Shanna said you were working late again 

It was like he knew she would be thinking about him. 

Chris 08.17am: I really dont want u ignoring me all the time. This is hard for me right now as well 

Fuck. 

Sarah 08.21am: I kno. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that :(

He didn’t respond. She thought she saw the tell-tale three dots of him writing something but nothing appeared. Giving up on sleep, she got up and headed into the kitchen. Shanna had left her some bacon in the fridge and a fresh bread bun on the side so she turned on the grill and set about making some coffee. 

She felt strangely awake for this time and the apartment was nice and warm from the bright sunshine streaming in from all corners. Maybe a run would help. Or a cold shower.  

Chris 08.44am: I wanna be honest with u but I dont think u want that 

Chris 08.45am: so what do i do?? 

Fuck knows. 

Chris 08.51am: Can I come over? 

Sarah 08.54am: that’s not a good idea 

Chris 08.55am: cos you know what will happen? 

Chris 08.56am: what does that tell you?? 

She was sure he was nursing some kind of hangover or, quite possibly, he was still a little bit drunk. There were two responses she could give, she figured. The first would be her usual denial and perhaps an excuse that she was busy or working later than planned. The second, and ultimately the one she opted for, was to agree with him. 

Sarah 09.05am: I know what it tells me. That’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t come over 

Another three dots followed. There was only so many times they could go around and around in circles and as much as Audrey’s words made sense to her, it felt like she had to make the effort to regain some normality. 

He didn’t respond. She stared at her phone for an age but nothing came through. Maybe he got the message? Maybe he had fallen asleep. She was both relieved and suspicious; Chris wasn’t someone who backed down from an argument when he thought he was right. He had said as much himself. 

She turned the grill off, having lost her appetite. A run might make more sense and could help clear her head. 

She couldn’t sit around waiting for Chris to make his next move. 

*

[everythinghurtsand-imdying]

Prompt Request!

Prompt- Starker Hurt/Comfort- Peter is being bullied at school and is suicidal. Teacher Tony knows something is wrong and confronts him and Peter breaks down.. lots of hugs/kisses and Tony praising Peter and letting him know how much he cares! Please!!

- From the lovely @blackwater101

- CW: Bullying, blood, angst, underage?¿¿

~~~

The first time Tony notices a shift in Peter's mood, he thinks little of it. He had only known the kid for a few weeks - and while being completely enamoured by him - understood that kids his age went through phases. It was probably just the hormones kicking in and the stress of school. Peter was definitely his favourite, he tried not to have any but he was just so irresistible, working so hard when his other classmates didn't give two shits. He seemed genuinely interested in physics and Tony couldn't help but warm up to him, especially when the kid would stay after class to ask for extra reading. He was smart and nerdy, didn't have many friends; of course he was going to have a few down days.

But those down days turned to weeks, into months and Peter stopped staying after class to talk to Tony. Was he hurt? Yes but the kid probably had better things to do than stick around and talk to an old man about Coloumb's Law.

Then Peter Parker started showing up late for class. Now that was something Tony hadn't been expecting, he had pinched himself the first time it had happened just to be sure. But no, the kid walked in with his hair and clothes a little ruffled. He must have been running to class, Tony thought and left him be. But then it became something of a regular occurrence and any time the teacher tried to bring it up, the younger would hang his head in shame and mumble an apology. He had promised Peter several times that he could speak to him about anything and the blatant rejection hurt, but what could he do? He wasn't going to force it out of the kid. All he could do was wait and keep an eye on him.

Months had past and Tony was about ready to give up, accepting his favourite student's new fate as one of those edgy emo kids that didn't like to talk to adults. He was halfway through a class on the laws of heat transference (boring, I know) and Peter hadn't shown up at all. His seat looked oddly empty at the front, the man kept glancing to it as though the kid would suddenly appear out of thin air.

End of the class came and went and Tony was left to mull in silence in his classroom. Well, however silent it could be considering his room was facing out into the courtyard and the students were currently enjoying their lunch break on a hot sunny Wednesday. The knock at the door was barely acknowledged, Tony much to deep in his own thoughts to really process his environment. But then the familiar creak of the door filled the space and the teacher looked up from his chair behind the desk. Had a student left their bag or was it another teacher here to aimlessly flirt with him?

Neither. Instead, a very pale and small form stood in the doorway, one hand clutching the handle so hard it looked like it hurt. Tony hadn't even realised who it was until a familiar voice croaked out, "Mr. Stark?" Peter stood in the door way, his shoes dirty, parts of his trousers ripped and his shirt a complete mess of dirt and... Was that blood? Wide eyes traced upward to find a constant trickle escaping from Peter's nose, his lip also bust and what looked to be the beginnings of a terrible black eye blooming on his left cheek.

Tony is up and moving before he can realise what his body is doing. "What happened?" He breathed out, standing merely inches away from the kid. Shit, up close you could see more little scratches and bruises and it made Tony feel something cold and dark he hadn't felt in a long time.

"It's, it's nothing, Mr. Stark. I just wanted to apologise for not coming to class." God, even his voice was trembling, the same way his knees and bottom lip were. If the tears welling in his eyes were anything to go by, it didn't seem to be nothing. Narrowed eyes and a fierce look had Peter letting out a little squeak, jumping back and shaking his head. "I just-just tripped and fell." He tried lamely, knowing very well that it wasn't going to be enough.

"Come here, Peter." Tony used the same tone one might use on a frightened deer frozen in the road. He was afraid that the kid would turn around and hightail it out before he could get anymore information from him. Fortunately, and somewhat surprisingly, Peter listened to him and shuffled forward very slowly until they were only inches away. The older man carefully knelt down, ignoring the way his knees clicked in favour of carefully holding Peter's chin between two fingers. He was close enough to feel the others unsteady breath against his skin and God, what he wouldn't give to stroke a hand down that sore looking cheek. But he would be professional, he wanted Peter to be able to trust him.

"I'll ask you again, Peter. What happened?" He said, this time his voice was a little strained with a warning tone. As much as he wanted to coddle the boy, he was also desperate for the truth. Desperate to hopefully find that none of the scenarios floating around his head were actually true. But rather than a response, Peter just let out the most broken noise Tony had ever heard and wrapped his arms around the man's neck, throwing himself against the broad chest there.

Tony was shocked, having not expected such an outburst. Peter nuzzled his way into the man's neck, letting out all his emotions in violent, choking sobs and all Tony could do was replay that horrible sad noise in his mind. He never wanted to hear anything as broken as that again.

Peter was warm against him and that helped to bring him back to reality, enough so that he wrapped his arms around the kid's shoulders and held him close. Words were pouring from his mouth before he could even recognise what he was saying, "It's okay, Peter. I'm here, no one's going to hurt you. I've got you, you're safe with me." He said anything that came to mind, hoping it would help calm the kid as he let a hand carefully rub soothing circles into his back.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other close in the confines of the classroom. Tony wasn't sure when he had started pressing feather-light kisses to Peter's temple, but it seemed to be the most effective method of calming him down, so he continued. His knees ached from how they were bending and just when he thought about pulling away, Peter did it before him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, it's not important. I promise I won't be late to class again." Even now, even after the terrified outburst and the tear tracks staining his pretty cheeks, the student tried to play it off as nothing. And that hurt.

"Tell me, Pete. You're hurt, that's not nothing to me." The same dominant but soft tone returned and it had the kid biting his already sore lip, as though he was considering his options. Tony took this moment to shuffle and sit on the floor, knees crossed and staring intently at Peter. This wasn't something he could worm his way out of with puppy-dog eyes.

"It's just Flash and his friends..." The never-ending silence was broken by Peter's voice, barely even there and unsure. "I think Flash has trouble at home and I guess he gets mad and needs to take it out on someone."

Tony's jaw clenched, hands flexing by his side with the urge to wrap his hands around Flash Thompson's neck. Yeah, he knew the kid. He was smart, pretty similar to Peter but a pain in the ass. He reminded the teacher of himself when he was younger - but the Stark didn't have to work for the top grades, unlike Thompson, he thought smugly. "Peter, that's no excuse for him to hurt you. You might have issues at home but I don't see you swinging punches."

That pulled a sigh from the kid's lips and he looked down at his teacher on the floor, tugging at the sleeve end of his shirt. "I know, but... He gets mad at me too, for- for getting better grades than him. He says that I don't deserve them, that it's just luck." He tore his gaze away now, biting down on his bottom lip once again as it began to tremble. "Maybe he's right..."

Should Tony have done what he did next? Absolutely not. Would he have stopped the second Peter asked him to? Absolutely yes. He couldn't help himself, he was just so full of so many conflicting emotions at hearing Peter's confession.

"Awh, baby." Tony sighed softly and grabbed Peter's hand, pulling him down onto his lap.

He immediately wrapped his arms around the kid, one hand coming up to bury deep in his hair. He didn't even think about what he was doing - his body had been on autopilot - until the kid beneath him froze up.

Shit, shit, shit fuck, shit. He'd just ruined any trust Peter had with him, now he was never going to be able to talk about his problems again an-.

Peter letting out another quiet sob and buried his face into Tony's chest, shaking hands coming up to wrap around his neck again. The kid squirmed in his lap, pushing himself impossibly closer to the other like he wanted to be absorbed in his chest. Surely, just surely, the student could hear how hard and fast his teacher's heart thumped against his ribcage. But Peter made no effort to comment, only sniffling and letting out little gasps for air as he clung to his mentor.

"They're wrong, Pete. You're smart and incredible, you're so independent and you work so hard." Tony's mouth finally began to work again, and it began to babble all sorts of comforting words and encouragements. Anything he could think about came out. Coos of praise and reminding Peter of just how damn amazing he was. Smart, talented, amazing, beautiful, clever, witty and other variations of the same adjectives were used a lot as the man stroked his hair.

"Pete, you're brilliant, you know that?" Tony tried, pulling Peter away from his chest so he could look him in the eyes. Even now, with red puffy eyes, a bleeding nose and bruises for days, he looked beautiful. "You're the smartest kid I know, and you're gonna be so successful that you can pay someone to wipe your ass."

Peter choked out a giggle, heat flushing across his already red face as he listened to his teacher's words. "I don't know if I want that, Mr. Stark." He replied, unable to keep the shy grin off his face. It grew when he heard the most wonderful sound - Tony laughing slightly. He was addicted already.

"You say that now, princess. But I bet when you're too rich to remember my name, you'll be too busy to wipe your butt." Tony teased, glad the mood was lightening a little. He adjusted Peter on his lap so the kid was sat sideways, legs hanging off his own as oppose to the almost straddling position they had earlier.

"I'll never forget you, Mr. Stark." Peter promised, eyes wide with something Tony couldn't comprehend. His heart ached, one small hand coming to rest over the larger one pressed to the to floor. "Never, Mr. Stark."

Tony could have died happy. He couldn't remove his smile, even as he pressed a final kiss to Peter's forehead. "C'mon, kid, let's get that nose cleaned up."

[oxsix]

The Long Road to Family

Chapter 6- alone, but not this time

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

[oops here comes another chapter! Sorry I’ve had a surprising amount of motivation today]

Katherine is alone again, and she wonders if anyone will ever come for her.

Katherine Howard sits alone in her flat.

She sits on the floor, with her back pressed against the cold leather sofa behind her. It's dark. She hadn't really noticed the time passing so quickly. She should get up and turn the lights on. But she doesn't. The darkness around her feels cloying, and she feels like the shadows are closing in on her. Stealing her breath away.

She can't breathe.

Everything feels wrong. Why is she here? What does it mean?

She was never equipped to deal with anything like this. It's overwhelming, as if she doesn't have enough on her mind without the addition of a new, future world to navigate.

The flat is too small. She knows she could get up, and walk around it. But she can't. Her intent to move doesn't seem to translate into her body obeying her will. It stays put. She continues to stare blankly at the little red light from the television in the corner.

She wonders if she should put it on; if it might help to distract her, take her away from the clawing, pervasive memories desperately trying to force their way into the front of her mind. She tries to push them back but they scream at her, demand her attention.

The effort it takes to keep them away seems to physically hurt.

Her breathing becomes thinner and frailer.

She doesn't want to remember, she only wants to shut herself off. It's too much, years of memories rushing in all at once. She's cold, but she's sweating at the same time. Her throat feels itchy and dry as she tries to suck in enough air to keep herself going. It hurts, but her head hurts even more.

She screws her eyes shut, but it doesn't make much difference from the already dark room.

She wants to forget but she's so, so utterly alone right now. All she wants is to ignore it all, to shut it out and pretend it never happened, but every moment of her past life clings to her subconscious.

Hands, touching her in places she never asked for, and whispered words promising 'love.' Love Katherine never really sees. All the time she hopes, all the times she prays that things might be different, that someone might mean it this time.

But there's no one. She's all alone and they all promise love but they never give it. They talk and they lie and they make empty promises. They leave her there and it's cold and it's dark. They leave her there to die. She cries, quietly, to herself, and nobody comes to help. Nobody ever did.

Her chest feels tighter and tighter, with some twisted sense of grief.

She's alone.

It's dark, and the room isn't really all that small, but it's too small, and it's empty and it's cold.

And she's alone.

Again.

She rocks forward, holding her knees close to her chest as silent sobs wrack her body. She tries, as hard as she can right now, when she's so scared, and in such an unfamiliar environment. Nothing about her surroundings feels right. Its all new, all different.

It isn't what she knows. It's all different, and yet it feels the same. All the same.

It's like she's there all over again. In the tower. Katherine knows, logically, that it isn't the same. Everything is wildly different, and every little detail contrast deeply with the world of her time. The bright lights that reflect in through the window, bringing the slightest amount of light to the room. The fuzzy background noise of 'cars' humming and honking on the streets outside. All so unfamiliar and new.

And yet Katherine can't bring herself back to the present. Future?

She just feels it all again. The fear, the anxiety, the unwanted touch, the cold, and the final, sharp swing that has her leap up from her position on the floor.

She's not sure where she's going, she only know that she can't stay here any longer. She needs to go, to walk, run. She just wants to get away.

But she doesn't know where to run to escape her own memories.

She pulls on a coat she'd been left with, and pockets the 'phone' they'd given her. She could use it, but she doesn't know what she would even do with it.

She needs an escape, a distraction, a reason not to think for a while. All she wants is for this feeling to go away. The feeling that it's all going to happen all over again.

She'd been told that beheading was abolished as a means of execution in 1973. And that the last executions in the UK were in 1964. But she hasn't been around that long. It doesn't feel like any time has passed. She doesn't feel far enough away. It doesn't feel long enough ago.

She feels like it's following her. She doesn't know what, but this pervasive feeling drags at her, pulls at her edges as if trying to envelope her.

She has to get out. She throws the front door open, and steps out into the hallway. The lights flicker on, emitting a low hum, and it scares Katherine for a moment. That's probably normal, she thinks, but it still puts her on edge.

She thinks about heading out for real, onto the streets, but the though scares her too much. So many unfamiliar people, unfamiliar places. She couldn't convince herself she wouldn't somehow stumble her way back to her old time.

She wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the wall outside her flat for support.

There's a tightness in her chest as it feels like it constricts in on herself.

Trying to shut out the feelings, she looks at the number on the door of her room. Tries to commit it to memory. And then she resorts to taking a photo of it on her phone, unable to think clearly as her mind seems to race with thoughts she'd rather leave behind.

She tries to catch her breath, but everything feels the same.

She's still alone. Still alone after all this time.

She closes her eyes, tries to think in a way that will pull her out of this dark, spiralling mess.

She needs something. She needs someone to be there. She cant be there, alone, any more. In the dark, and the cold. Somewhere she doesn't want to be. The four walls enclosing her feel to small. She feels trapped.

She's scared and she's alone and why will no one come for her? Why will no one come when they all promised her love? Why had she been promised so much and left for dead when she wasn't of use? She doesn't know where to go, or what to do.

She's scared of doing something wrong. She's scared of getting in trouble again. She just knows that if she does something wrong these new people will change their minds about her, too. That they'll go back on their promises that they would help; that they would be there.

She has a number to call for emergencies, and the panic she feels right now certainly feels like one. But she doesn't trust her gut anymore. She doesn't think anyone will come.

Why would they? Nobody ever had before. Not when she needed them. Not even-

No. She couldn't blame her, it wasn't her fault. But it wasn't Katherine's either. She hadn't done anything wrong, she hadn't!

She repeated it to herself, over and over. She hadn't done anything wrong. She had tried her best, she had never asked for any of it. She'd been trapped. Over and over again. Stuck in places and situations she didn't want.

She slides down the wall and sits, trying to regain her breath and suppress the tears that flow down her cheeks.

She needs someone. Anyone. Someone to talk to, to hold her, to ground her in now. To keep her here, out of the past, out of her endless, whirling thoughts that won't leave her be.

Pulling herself up from the ground with a newfound sense of urgency, she moves toward the next flat over from hers.

She doesn't know who they put across the hall, only that she heard them bring someone in there earlier. She hadn't recognised the voice, but then she wouldn't, would she? She didn't recognise her own face, after all. And even if it wasn't who she hoped it was, anything would be better than being so awfully, hopelessly alone.

She moves to the door, making the effort to even out her breaths so as not to worry whoever is on the other side. She knocks, as hard as she can, but her limbs are fairly weak right now, her whole body feeling drained.

After an agonising few moments, the door pulls open. Again, she doesn't recognise the girl who opens it. But the way her expression softens when she sees Katherine, and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, tells her things will be okay.

Her friend brings her inside, rubbing a thumb softly along her shoulder and pulling her gently int a hug as the door closed behind them.

And Katherine lets herself cry, loud, long sobs, that hurt, but that feel much better out than when she kept them in. She cries openly into her friends arms, and she is so, so relieved.

And when her breaths finally even out and her eyes begin to dry, Anna wipes away the final few tears from her face. She guide her to sit down with her, and she leans, gently, against Katherine's side. And they stay that way for the rest of the night, after Anna pulls the soft throw that had been draped over the back of the couch on top of them.

They whisper to each other quietly into the small hours of the morning, as orange-tinted sunshine begins to stream through the gaps in the curtains.

She's grateful to see her friend again, and her heart feels full at the fact that someone is there for her this time. And just maybe; they'll be there for good, now.

The light, comfortable contact they share keeps her in the moment. It reminds her that she is here, she is safe, she is loved. For real, this time. And it's touch that she wants, that she doesn't want to run from. She leans into it heavily, allowing all her weight to push lightly against her old friend. She relaxes, at last.

And she thinks that, perhaps, this time around she won't be quite so alone.

[treenahasthaal]

Ancient Unfinished Fic: Jeremiad

In an effort to kick start my writing I have been converting ancient unfinished stories from Works into Word. I have realised that I will probably never finish these stories, however I wanted to do something with them and thought I’d just post some scenes from them here.

This scene (and the one following) is from a story called Jeremiad and I started writing it in the late 1980s/early ‘90s. It is post ROTJ and pre EU. 

Please be aware it has perhaps PG13 rating for content.

Luke led her away from the valley, away from the stench of death, away from the blood, away from the circling carrion birds, away from the frenzied eating of the Mered. Took her away from the laughter, the glee, the cackling satisfaction as the creatures gnawed on the dead. They walked on, supporting one another, the silence between them heavy with the horror they had left behind. He took her back to the coral, back to the growing rock, to the peace and sanctity of the living Force.

The sun was setting, sinking slowly into the horizon, dispersing gentle colours over the area and Luke had only just settled his back against the sleekness of the walls when she questioned.

“Why did they do it?”

 He looked towards her, reached forward and brushed the first tear from her eye. "I don't know," he confessed. The three words were becoming his favourite saying of late.  In truth this place puzzled him, threw his senses into complete confusion. The Force was awry here, that much was obvious, something was misaligned, unbalanced, and he didn't have the slightest clue as to what had caused it. The environment, the ecosystem, and the creatures it cradled, were dying and it had something to do with the life essence of the planet, something to do with the Force.

 The Force was shifting, heaving. In some places it was strong and vibrant such as here, in others it didn't exist at all. And now, Morvern's own village was gone, its people dead at the hands of marauding bands of leaderless stormtroopers. A purposeless slaughter.

"I don't know what's happening here," he told her, his voice weary, grieved.

“My people…my family…”

He put his arm around her as though he could shield her from the emotions he could sense surging within her, as though he could dampen her anguish by a simple touch.

"It's my fault," she announced. "My fault. It's me.... I know it's me...."

"No, it's not you," he was quick to tell her. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her. And yet, he knew it was. This was the simple truth, there was something wrong here, and that something had been present in Morvern since the day they had met.

 She must have touched that thought for she pulled away, sat upright and looked at him, her eyes bright with fear, with anger at his cruel beliefs.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quickly, reaching out to catch her before she could move away. "Please. ..."

She looked at his hand on her arm, looked to his face, his eyes… Her expression full of desire, full of vulnerability “Help me, Jedi …”

And, somehow, he knew it was not only Morvern asking.

She spread her palm and placed it against his cheek. He felt its warmth, its sleekness against his skin, felt it move towards his mouth, felt her fingers caress his lips. Then she smiled. "No more deaths, Jedi. Only you know how, only you have the power to stop them."

"I don't understand," Luke's voice was a breath of air. Her fingers moved down his neck. Her colours were reddening, the heat beginning to rise from her body. He felt stifled by her closeness, and yet he could not move back, could not break free. Her emotions surrounded him, caressed his mind, stroked his own feelings. "Morvern, I..."

"No more deaths," she told him as she settled a kiss in the hollow at the base of his throat. She took his hands, lay back upon the smoothed coral and he found himself kneeling over her

The Force was a myriad of sensations; it was convoluted, pulsing with potency. It was so strong, the temptation of what she was offering appealing and alluring. She was drawing him to her, to her light, to the innocence she offered so openly. She was goodness, she was joy, she was pleasure. Outside this place they were surrounded by pain, by emptiness and night, by a spreading darkness they could not halt...

...Yes. This way. This is how...See, Jedi? See how it is done...

...here they could escape, if only for a moment, from that which they feared. Here they could find peace, here they could shed their fears and enjoy a snatched moment of happiness. Here they could shut out what was encroaching upon this world and take the love which had grown between them and make it whole.

He could feel her move beneath him, could feel her skin smooth against his own, could feel her colours shift against his paleness. He closed his eyes as he let her swallow him, as he joined her bodily and emotionally... and he was breathing with her tiny shallow breaths, he was tasting his own skin with her tongue as she kissed his chest, feeling his own hands upon her breasts, his own lips upon her neck, feeling himself within her, feeling her muscles tight around him...

...opened his mouth to taste the dark droplets. They were light and delicate upon his tongue, and they wet his skin with warmth, with heat. The water fell harder, heavier, threatening to engulf him with its drumming strength. He turned then and embraced the storm, held it close as its winds raged, as its intensity pounded his body, as it loosed a cry from his throat. And his muscles spasmed, twisted with the effort to hold onto the tumult, until, with blessed relief, the winds calmed to a breeze and the rains became a sheath of fine spray...

...feeling her brush back his hair from his face.

He opened his eyes, looked up at her as she sat astride him, and watched as his own sweat trickled down between her breasts. He reached up and wiped it away before it reached her belly. Then he sat up, drew her hips forward, trailed his hands up her body, cupped her face and kissed her.

"No more deaths, Luke," she whispered, desperately. "Promise me, no more death."

Luke held her in his arms, his head bowed with pain, with shame and he remained silent, his mind's thoughts too easy to read: it was a promise he could never make, for it was a promise he could never keep.

[demoncryptspanties]

Paintings

Masterlist 

When she opened her door the corridor was empty, except for a small painting. Recently done, the colours were sharp and bright. It was the sunset from one of the windows in the tower. She couldn’t place which floor, but it was like someone had worked from a picture. The soft blues and pinks calming her. She ordered some glue and stuck it on her wall. It was only the beginning.

The next was smaller. Done on a piece of card about the size of her hand.  The paper itself was navy blue, she had seen that before as well but again couldn’t place where. It was a small array of stars. She glued it next to the other on her wall.

The next was different. It was put in a box just outside her door. Inside was an egg, painted different shades of orange. Her favourite colour. It was the result of a team building activity that Steve had proposed, which was mostly for the benefit of him and Bucky, apparently, it was something they use to do as kids. She knew who this had belonged to but didn’t question it. She didn’t realise it was still wet and smudged it with her finger. She took it inside anyway, displaying it in the coffee table. It matched the peach of the walls.

The next few came with notes. A few thank you’s, a sorry or two and other things detailing days the two had together and things they had enjoyed. By this point, her wall was filled by different sunsets, flowers and building she had never been to, others that she had. Some were landmarks that seemed to be imagined but all had, and orange hue incorporated.

The painting and obvious crush on each other hadn’t gone unnoticed by quite a few including Clint and Thor.

Clint had acted as a sort of father figure for Wanda, being the only Avenger with biological kids he seemed to be the father figure for everyone. It was his idea in the first place about the paintings, seeing the two pining each other from across the room during movie days or keeping each other company when one decided to cook.

Cooking itself had been firstly a bonding experience for Vision and everyone else but Y/N had started to sit in on Wanda’s session and vice-versa. Vision didn’t seem to mind until Y/N started with weird food combinations that he hadn’t heard of and gave up with trying to stop her moving to observe instead.

This eventually became tradition once or twice a week, once with Vision, Wanda and Y/N and the other day with Wanda and Y/N. The domesticity this gave was heart-warming for everyone. Seeing the two be so comfortable with each other reminded the others that despite everything they are people, with feelings, people who deserve happiness.

It became a mission in the tower to get them together. Thor had first confronted Y/N, his straightforward approach wasn’t something she was comfortable with, but she appreciated the effort. Thor and herself had been very close from the beginning. She liked his humour and go for it attitude, the two became two peas in a pod when he was around. She taught him a lot about the earth and in return, he took her around to different worlds, to festivals or just places to travel. Culture was something she loved to learn about.

After Thor returned to the rest of the Avengers to detail that no, Y/N would not be confessing her love any time soon, Clint had tried and succeeded in a way. Wanda had begun art therapy at the prompt of Bruce which she took to extremely fast. She practised it as a coping mechanism whether it was doodling on her hands or larger pieces on one of the many canvases she had in her room. Clint had suggested that she should give one or two to Y/N after he had found a painting of a river the two went to. Wanda started with just that and then moved to all the doodles that she did, thinking that it was the unplanned art pieces that turned out the best. She had yet to see Y/N’s room.

It was nearing summer and Y/N Wall was full, from the head of the bed to the glass wall. She clustered them so that buildings were near the window and landscapes nearer the bed, the sunsets, planets and stars being the nearest to her. It reminded her of how big the universe was and how much she hadn’t seen even though she had been out to space.

The day itself was hot but windy. Y/N decided to make porridge in her own kitchenette and then move to have a cup of tea in the greenhouse.

The top floor of the tower was a sight to see. Only open to the members of the tower it contained every tree, bush and flower a person could think of. Tony’s weather simulators meant that each section was unique, acting like a certain environment. There was an area for everyone, the different environments suiting everyone’s needs. Y/N chose to climb up one of the trees, really, she shouldn’t have been, but the chance was just too much to pass up on.

She settled herself in a nook before she saw the flash of a camera.

“Shit, fuck. I’m sorry” the exclamation made Y/N giggle and she began to climb down.

“Is there a reason you were taking photos of me or is this just a leisure activity, I didn’t know about.” Y/N said once reaching the bottom of the tree.

“I promise that I didn’t. Well, God. You know I love to paint, and you’re a really good muse” Wanda shifted nervously under Y/N’s playful gaze.

“I appreciate them you know. The paintings, their really good.” Her previous confident smile began to falter the more nervous Y/N got.

“Thank you.”

“How about I show you what the painting that you gave me look like.” Y/N moved towards the exit looking behind her to make sure that Wanda was following, which she did. The walk itself was in silence, both giving each other looks until they got to her floor.

Once the door was open Wanda overtook her after seeing the green landscape in the corner of her eyes. She seemed mesmerised by the paintings, considering she drew them.

“Y/N you kept all of them”

“Well, I love all of them. Even the sketches, they remind me of so many happy things.” Y/N was shifting again, afraid to go up to her.

Wanda turned around suddenly and walked up to Y/N pulling her face to meet hers. Their embrace was sweet but short, Y/N taking a step back in surprise.

“Why did you do that,” she asked a small smile playing on her lips. Her head was in a daze.

“Because I waited too long to” This time Y/N pulled her into herself, both fighting for dominance. Y/N caressed her face and neck before Wanda stopped her.

“Perhaps we should slow down” she gave her a quick peck and smiled at her softly.

“we should. I’m glad that happened though Under the stars and in the fields and sky”

“Did you seriously use my paintings as a metaphor?” Wanda chuckled a little.

“That sounded a lot cheesier than I first anticipated,” she chuckled nervously, her hand moving to tuck the other's hair in. “You should probably tell Clint”

“Mr Thunderclap has requested your assistance with a food matter” a voice said clearly.

“I should probably go to that.”

“Yeah before he burns the tower down” Wanda kissed her again the two seem too hooked on each other to stop.

“Mr Stark has requested your assistance with a food matter”

“Well, I should definitely get that.” Y/N moved to the door. “Stay, please stay. Study the paintings, or the view”

“I will”

[otterbagel]

A Dutiful Partnership- Gavin x Reader (Part 2)

[Part 1 Link]

  Reader is one of the first androids to get a degree outside of their original purpose. While they experience the struggles of working in a non-accepting environment, they must also solve a mysterious case involving an android murder with their not-so-willing partner, Gavin Reed.

   Reader and Gavin discuss their new partnership and find clues hidden in unsolved cases.

(Notes: This is really short, cause I wanted this scene to be by itself. Next part is pretty long and will be posted soon. I have another one-part thing coming out too, but it just wasn’t finished yet!)

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of death, bullying, threats, mentions of hate crimes, generally uncomfortable topics! (please be careful reading)

  You had became enraptured with the information on your terminal since you got back from your outing. It was quite difficult to sift through the massive amount of data put under the blanket term 'human-on-android violence', but you had come up with a few promising leads. In the five months since the revolution's end, there had been thousands of crimes under this label. 

  You tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling you got upon seeing how many were open or unsolved.

  One of the few that seemed similar was a PL600, who was found outside of his apartment building seventeen days ago. There had been no witnesses, but it had seemed as though he had been killed elsewhere. What got your attention was the fact that he had been missing an arm. 

  Two cases, both involving HK400 androids, were merely five days apart from each other. While both had different circumstances, both had been missing a limb. Another AX400, who had been found near a dumpster over a month ago, who's leg had been oddly taken off. 

  None had any suspects or leads, yet all seemed to match up quite well.

  You leaned back in your chair, staring at your screen with resolve. You could understand why no one had suspected a thirium gathering ring, but you couldn't understand why such blatant serial killer behavior went unnoticed. 

  "Hey Toaster," spoke Gavin from across your terminal.

  You leaned over your screen. "Hm?" you responded gently.

  "You... uh... do know its almost eight right?" He paid no attention to you as he clicked away at something on his computer.

  You checked the time. He was right. The entire office was empty. "Why are you still here?" you questioned.

  "Cause you didn't go home either, dipshit."

  "Why does that matter?"

  "I dunno, thought maybe you were doing something important," He mumbled, turning off his computer and standing up from his chair.

  You blinked. There was a feeling you weren't well acquainted with gripping you. "I've been here for one day and I've already made a breakthrough in, what seems to be, an ongoing issue here in Detroit."

  "Why do you talk like that? Its getting on my nerves."

  You watched his eyes. You wanted to say something neutral or possibly snarky to match his tone. But it was as if your words somehow got caught in your throat. "Like... what?"

  "You're so emotionless. Even for an android. Its weird."

  "I spent the entire five months of my existence working for an opportunity to have this career. I haven't had time to explore the realm of my emotions or interests yet." You gritted your teeth as you stared at a victim's picture on your monitor, hating the verbal confirmation of something you had been ignoring for quite a while.

  Gavin walked over to your side of the cubicle, leaning back against an empty space as he watched your screen. You observed him out of the corner of your vision as you pretended to focus on the task at hand. He tapped his hands on your desk. 

  "I get what you mean," he responded with a sigh. "I'm sure you know, but the unemployment rate is pretty fuckin' high. True for when I was younger, too." 

  You nodded, watching him with a blank expression.

  He leaned down, raising his eyebrows. "This was one of the only options I had. Even then, everyone knew it was just a matter of time before androids replaced cops too." He looked behind you, towards the old pods for the police androids. "It keeps you on your toes, you know? Knowing you could be replaced any day by somethin' you have no chance of competing with."

  You smirked. "Well, I don't have that many advantages compared to a human." You picked at your nails as you spoke. "But I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. I'm trying to learn."

  "Learn what?" he laughed in an unsure tone.

  "How to be a good partner, cop, person..." you responded. "And useful. I have to adjust to my lack of normal detective android abilities."

  "Wait, I didn't mean it like..." he shook his head.

  "What?"

  He groaned. "Listen, that was just me being a hardass. Don't take it too personal- even if it is true." he corrected.

  You smiled to yourself. "Yes, I get what you're saying. Thank you."

  "D-don't thank me for cussing you out," he mumbled. "the fuck's wrong with you..."

  Feeling a lot better about your situation, you turned your attention back to the file on your computer. "I noticed some similar cases to the one we had today," you started. "they're all androids that had limbs removed."

  "Yeah?" Gavin leaned down to inspect your screen. "That is kinda weird."

  You nodded, scrolling through the text. "Yes. I found it odd no one else noticed this pattern." 

  "Well, you're probably the only one who's done a full reading on them all." 

  You nodded in agreement. "That's a fair point." 

  He crossed his arms. "Are they taking body parts as souvenirs?"

  "I don't believe so. Its not the same part each time. Also, the limb is actually found in most instances," you explained. "I think removing a limb is the perpetrator's way of extracting thirium efficiently."

  "So its an easy and direct way of getting thirium from an android?" 

  "I think so, yes. And they're trying to hide it by doing it at different times to different androids. I beli-"

  "Wait-"

  "-eve the secondary damage to Claire's biocomponents was done in an effort to throw us off. What was you saying?"

  He pointed to the screen. "There is one thing they all have in common," 

  "What's that?"

  He looked between you and your desktop. "Well, they're all housekeeping models."

[unfinishedessays]

Record high temperature set three years ago topped by a degree and a half.  Wildfires in the arctic circle.  Catastrophic storms the planet over.  Climate change is here; we lost. 

For years the climate scientists have been setting a 1.5°C global temperature increase as the hard limit.  The ‘stay under this to avoid global catastrophy’ limit.  The ‘avoid this like the lives of your children and grandchildren depend on it’ limit.  We’re currently at 1.0°C and steadily climbing, and somehow we still give time and thought to those saying it’s not real.  The ones making the important choices and contributions still waffle and debate and make token gestures.

According to the experts the conservative estimate, the good news estimate, has us over 1.5 degrees within the decade and ending up between 2.4 and 3 degrees if we take major steps now.  These major steps not being global revolution and world changing but ten-year plans to reduce emissions by 50% or switch to electric cars or make the other slow grinding changes we’ve been fighting for for 50 years.  You know those 10 and 20 year plans they make and agreements they sign and empty political promises we get which at best end up 10 years behind schedule with a significantly reduced goal and the constant fight from those making money off those making money off the death of our planet.

So maybe all those things will happen and we’ll land happily in a planet a full degree above the hard limit the climate scientists gave us.  Or maybe conservative good news estimates are great to make us think there’s hope but fool me once, twice, twenty times shame on me.  We’re fucked.  These goals and targets won’t get hit.  They never have before. 

We can look at what it looks like in the worst case scenario, but we don’t even need to.  That 2.5°C good news target is bleak.  It’s wildfires, tornados, hurricanes, droughts, rising sea levels, food shortages, heat-related deaths, building collapses, disease, mass migration, civil unrest, wars.  That’s what the experts say.  If you don’t believe in climate change, I’m sorry you’ve been brainwashed by the massive propaganda effort and I’m impressed you made it this far.  Keep going, I believe in you.  If you do believe in climate change, this is really fucking depressing but also what you need to hear.  Burying your head in the sand and ignoring the sad reality doesn’t make it less real.  But depression doesn’t generate clicks so the news always shies away from it.  We’re fucked.  Acknowledge it. 

All the news articles end the same way.  How can you help?  Buy an electric car, eat less meat, take less flights.  Because one or a million or a billion each making a tiny change can outdo the massive industrial complexes poisoning our atmosphere.  Call your representative, use your vote effectively.   Because that’s worked great for the last 50 years of determined stagnation, but maybe now we’ll get through to them. 

The question that’s always asked then ‘answered’ is how can you help slow it down?  How can you fight back?  But that’s the wrong question to be asking because we’ve already found out the answer, basically, is ‘you can’t; it’s happening’. 

So now what.  What’s the next question?  I propose three:

What form of government/society can exist sustainably in concert with the environment, climate, and biome?

How can the current government/society mitigate the various aspects of the coming disaster?

How can an individual ensure the survival of themselves and their loved ones?

These are clearly complex questions and any reasonable answers will be even more so.  Nevertheless, here are the criminally shortened versions of my best answers. 

First, the ideal of endless growth must end.  It is fundamentally unsustainable for reasons which should be immediately obvious.  Second, the culture should be refocused from fundamental human supremacy to one of fundamental human integration.  We’re part of the ecosystem whether we like it or not, and we should build our society with that understanding in mind. How us humans should structure our government is not a question I’m fit to answer, but stay tuned for further writings on building a multi-species culture.

First, do all those ‘fighting climate change’ things we keep arguing about: invest in renewables, encourage biking and public transit, etc., etc..  Second, be prepared to help: invest in disaster management, invest in infrastructure both physical (dams, trains, water pipes) and social (welfare, food assistance, homeless shelters). Third, build better habits: encourage small scale agriculture like community gardens and backyard chickens, build and plan for small walkable communities,

First, consider where you live.  Is your area prone to earthquakes, wildfire, hurricanes, floods, etc.?  Can you move?  If you can, consider it.  If not, be realistic about what’s coming and be prepared.  Second, start doing things yourself: learn to grow/hunt/find your food, learn to repair your tools/machines/engines, if you want electricity get a solar panel or windmill and know how to repair it. 

Those are the short versions.  I will approach the long versions now, in reverse order. 

How can an individual ensure the survival of themselves and their loved ones?

Obviously you can’t ensure it, but just as obviously you can improve your chances.  First off, everyone whose first answer is ‘build a bunker’ or ‘hoard guns’ is wrong.  These might help in a war, they will not help now.  Let’s start by looking at the list of what to expect from above.

Wildfires, tornados, hurricanes, droughts, rising sea levels, food shortages, heat-related death, building collapses, disease, mass migration, civil unrest, wars

These fall into 3 categories:

direct environmental effects, such as wildfires, droughts, rising sea levels

first order effects, caused by direct environmental effects, such as food shortages, heat-related deaths, building collapses

higher order effects, such as mass migration, civil unrest, wars

[bfxenon]

Google Local Filler Content Isn't Good UX, and Needs Revisions

Did you ever turn in a school paper full of vague ramblings, hoping your teacher wouldn’t notice that you’d failed to read the assigned book?

I admit, I once helped my little sister fulfill a required word count with analogies about “waves crashing against the rocks of adversity” when she, for some reason, overlooked reading The Communist Manifesto in high school. She got an A on her paper, but that isn’t the mark I’d give Google when there isn’t enough content to legitimately fill them local packs, Local Finders, and Maps.

The presence of irrelevant listings in response to important local queries:

Makes it unnecessarily difficult for searchers to find what they need

Makes it harder for relevant businesses to compete

Creates a false impression of bountiful local choice of resources, resulting in disappointing UX

Today, we’ll look at some original data in an attempt to quantify the extent of this problem, and explore what Google and local businesses can do about it.

What’s meant by “local filler” content and why is it such a problem?

The above screenshot captures the local pack results for a very specific search for a gastroenterologist in Angels Camp, California. In its effort to show me a pack, Google has scrambled together results that are two-thirds irrelevant to the full intent of my query, since I am not looking for either an eye care center or a pediatrician. The third result is better, even though Google had to travel about 15 miles from my specified search city to get it, because Dr. Eddi is, at least, a gastroenterologist.

It’s rather frustrating to see Google allowing the one accurate specialist to be outranked by two random local medical entities, perhaps simply because they are closer to home. It obviously won’t do to have an optometrist or children’s doctor consult with me on digestive health, and unfortunately, the situation becomes even odder when we click through to the local finder:

Of the twenty results Google has pulled together to make up the first page of the local finder, only two are actually gastroenterologists, lost in the weeds of podiatrists, orthopedic surgeons, general MDs, and a few clinics with no clarity as to whether their presence in the results relates to having a digestive health specialists on staff . Zero of the listed gastroenterologists are in the town I’ve specified. The relevance ratio is quite poor for the user and shapes a daunting environment for appropriate practitioners who need to be found in all this mess.

You may have read me writing before about local SEO seeking to build the online mirror of real-world communities. That’s the ideal: ensuring that towns and cities have an excellent digital reference guide to the local resources available to them. Yet when I fact-checked with the real world (calling medical practices around this particular town), I found that there actually are no gastroenterologists in Angels Camp, even though Google’s results might make it look like there must be. What I heard from locals is that you must either take a 25 minute drive to Sonora to see a GI doctor, or head west for an hour and fifteen minutes to Modesto for appropriate care.

Google has yoked itself to AI, but the present state of search leaves it up to my human intelligence to realize that the SERPs are making empty promises, and that there are, in fact, no GI docs in Angels Camp. This is what a neighbor, primary care doctor, or local business association would tell me if I was considering moving to this community and needed to be close to specialists. But Google tells me that there are more than 23 million organic choices relevant to my requirements, and scores of local business listings that so closely match my intent, they deserve pride of place in 3-packs, Finders and Maps.

The most material end result for the Google user is that they will likely experience unnecessary fatigue wasting time on the phone calling irrelevant doctors at a moment when they are in serious need of help from an appropriate professional. As a local SEO, I’m conditioned to look at local business categories and can weed out useless content almost automatically because of this, but is the average searcher noticing the truncated “eye care cent…” on the above listing? They’re almost certainly not using a Chrome extension like GMB Spy to see all the possible listing categories since Google decided to hide them years ago.

On a more philosophical note, my concern with local SERPs made up of irrelevant filler content is that they create a false picture of local bounty. As I recently mentioned to Marie Haynes:

The work of local businesses (and local SEOs!) derives its deepest meaning from providing and promoting essential local resources. Google’s inaccurate depiction of abundance could, even if in a small way, contribute to public apathy. The truth is that the US is facing a severe shortage of doctors, and anything that doesn’t reflect this reality could, potentially, undermine public action on issues like why our country, unlike the majority of nations, doesn’t make higher education free or affordable so that young people can become the medical professionals and other essential services providers we unquestionably need to be a functional society. Public well-being depends on complete accuracy in such matters.

As a local SEO, I want a truthful depiction of how well-resourced each community really is on the map, as a component of societal thought and decision-making. We’re all coping with public health and environmental emergencies now and know in our bones how vital essential local services have become.

Just how big is the problem of local filler content?

If the SERPs were more like humans, my query for “gastroenterologist Angels Camp” would return something like a featured snippet stating, “Sorry, our index indicates there are no GI Docs in Angels Camp. You’ll need to look in Sonora or Modesto for nearest options.” It definitely wouldn’t create the present scenario of, “Bad digestive system? See an eye doctor!” that’s being implied by the current results. I wanted to learn just how big this problem has become for Google.

I looked at the local packs in 25 towns and cities across California of widely varying populations using the search phrase “gastroenterologist” and each of the localities. I noted how many of the results returned were within the city specified in my search and how many used “gastroenterologist” as their primary category. I even gave Google an advantage in this test by allowing entries that didn’t use gastroenterologist as their primary category but that did have some version of that word in their business title (making the specialty clearer to the user) to be included in Google’s wins column. Of the 150 total data points I checked, here is what I found:

42% of the content Google presented in local packs had no obvious connection to gastroenterology. It’s a shocking number, honestly. Imagine the number of wearying, irrelevant calls patients may be making seeking digestive health consultation if nearly half of the practices listed are not in this field of medicine.

A pattern I noticed in my small sample set is that larger cities had the most relevant results. Smaller towns and rural areas had much poorer relevance ratios. Meanwhile, Google is more accurate as to returning results within the query’s city, as shown by these numbers:

The trouble is, what looks like more of a win for Google here doesn’t actually chalk up as a win for searchers. In my data set, where Google was accurate in showing results from my specified city, the entities were often simply not GI doctors. There were instances in which all 3 results got the city right, but zero of the results got the specialty right. In fact, in one very bizarre case, Google showed me this:

Welders aside, it’s important to remember that our initial Angels Camp example demonstrated how the searcher, encountering a pack with filler listings in it and drilling down further into the Local Finder results for help may actually end up with even less relevance. Instead of two-out-of-three local pack entries being useless to them, they may end up with two-out-of-twenty unhelpful listings, with relevance consigned to obscurity.

And, of course, filler listings aren’t confined to medical categories. I engaged in this little survey because I’d noticed how often, in category after category, the user experience is less-than-ideal.

What should Google do to lessen the poor UX of irrelevant listings?

Remember that we’re not talking about spam here. That’s a completely different headache in Googleland. I saw no instances of spam in my data. The welder was not trying to pass himself off as a doctor. Rather, what we have here appears to be a case of Google weighting location keywords over goods/services keywords, even when it makes no sense to do so.

Google needs to develop logic that excludes extremely irrelevant listings for specific head terms to improve UX. How might this logic work?

1. Google could rely more on their own categories. Going back to our original example in which an eye care center is the #1 ranked result for “gastroenterologist angels camp”, we can use GMB Spy to check if any of the categories chosen by the business is “gastroenterologist”:

Google can, of course, see all the categories, and this lack of “gastroenterologist” among them should be a big “no” vote on showing the listing for our query.

2. Google could cross check the categories with the oft-disregarded business description:

Again, no mention of gastroenterological services there. Another “no” vote.

3. Google could run sentiment analysis on the reviews for an entity, checking to see if they contain the search phrase:

Lots of mentions of eye care here, but the body of reviews contains zero mentions of intestinal health. Another “no” vote.

4. Google could cross check the specified search phrases against all the knowledge they have from their crawls of the entity’s website:

This activity should confirm that there is no on-site reference to Dr. Haymond being anything other than an ophthalmologist . Then Google would need to make a calculation to downgrade the significance of the location (Angels Camp) based on internal logic that specifies that a user looking for a gastroenterologist in a city would prefer to see gastroenterologists a bit farther away than seeing eye doctors (or welders) nearby. So, this would be another “no” vote for inclusion as a result for our query.

5. Finally, Google could cross reference this crawl of the website against their wider crawl of the web:

This should act as a good, final confirmation that Dr. Haymond is an eye doctor rather than a gastroenterologist, even if he is in our desired city, and give us a fifth “no” vote for bringing his listing up in response to our query.

The web is vast, and so is Google’s job, but I believe the key to resolving this particular type of filler content is for Google to rely more on the knowledge they have of an entity’s vertical and less on their knowledge of its location. A diner may be willing to swap out tacos for pizza if there’s a Mexican restaurant a block away but no pizzerias in town, but in these YMYL categories, the same logic should not apply.

It’s not uncommon for Google to exclude local results from appearing at all when their existing logic tells them there isn’t a good answer. It’s tempting to say that solving the filler content problem depends on Google expanding the number of results for which they don’t show local listings. But, I don’t think this is a good solution, because the user then commonly sees irrelevant organic entries, instead of local ones. It seems to me that a better path is for Google to expand the radius of local SERPs for a greater number of queries so that a search like ours receives a map of the nearest gastroenterologists, with closer, superfluous businesses filtered out.

What should you do if a local business you’re promoting is getting lost amid filler listings?

SEO is going to be the short answer to this problem. It’s true that you can click the “send feedback” link at the bottom of the local finder, Google Maps or an organic SERP, and fill out form like this, with a screenshot:

However, my lone report of dissatisfaction with SERP quality is unlikely to get Google to change the results. Perhaps if they received multiple reports…

More practically-speaking, if a business you’re promoting is getting lost amid irrelevant listings, search engine optimization will be your strongest tool for convincing Google that you are, in fact, the better answer. In our study, we realized that there are, in fact, no GI docs in Angels Camp, and that the nearest one is about fifteen miles away. If you were in charge of marketing this particular specialist, you could consider:

1. Gaining a foothold in nearby towns and cities

Recommend that the doctor develop real-world relationships with neighboring towns from which he would like to receive more clients. Perhaps, for example, he has hospital privileges, or participates in clinics or seminars in these other locales.

2. Writing about locality relationships

Publish content on the website highlighting these relationships and activities to begin associating the client’s name with a wider radius of localities.

3. Expanding the linktation radius

Seek relevant links and unstructured citations from the neighboring cities and towns, on the basis of these relationships and participation in a variety of community activities.

4. Customizing review requests based on customers’ addresses

If you know your customers well, consider wording review requests to prompt them to mention why it’s worth it to them to travel from X location for goods/services (nota bene: medical professionals, of course, need to be highly conversant with HIPPA compliance when it comes to online reputation management).

5. Filling out your listings to the max

Definitely do give Google and other local business listing platforms the maximum amount of information about the business you’re marketing (Moz Local can help!) . Fill out all the fields and give a try to functions like Google Posts, product listings, and Q&A.

6. Sowing your seeds beyond the walled garden

Pursue an active social media, video, industry, local news, print, radio, and television presence to the extent that your time and budget allows. Google’s walled garden, as defined by my friend, Dr. Pete, is not the only place to build your brand. And, if my other pal, Cyrus Shepard, is right, anti-trust litigation could even bring us to a day when Google’s own ramparts become less impermeable. In the meantime, work at being found beyond Google while you continue to grapple with visibility within their environment.

Study habits

It’s one thing for a student to fudge a book report, but squeaking by can become a negative lifelong habit if it isn’t caught early. I’m sure any Google staffer taking the time to actually read through the local packs in my survey would agree that they don’t rate an A+.

I’ve been in local SEO long enough to remember when Google first created their local index with filler content pulled together from other sources, without business owners having any idea they were even being represented online, and these early study habits seem to have stuck with the company when it comes to internal decision making that ends up having huge real-world impacts. The recent title tag tweak that is rewriting erroneous titles for vaccine landing pages is a concerning example of this lack of foresight and meticulousness.

If I could create a syllabus for Google’s local department, it would begin with separating out categories of the greatest significance to human health and safety and putting them through a rigorous, permanent manual review process to ensure that results are as accurate as possible, and as free from spam, scams, and useless filler content as the reviewers can make them. Google has basically got all of the money and talent in the world to put towards quality, and ethics would suggest they are obliged to make the investment.

Society deserves accurate search results delivered by studious providers, and rural and urban areas are worthy of equal quality commitments and a more nuanced approach than one-size-fits all. Too often, in Local, Google is flunking for want of respecting real-world realities. Let’s hope they start applying themselves to the fullest of their potential.

[nutrifami]

Google Local Filler Content Isn't Good UX, and Needs Revisions

Did you ever turn in a school paper full of vague ramblings, hoping your teacher wouldn’t notice that you’d failed to read the assigned book?

I admit, I once helped my little sister fulfill a required word count with analogies about “waves crashing against the rocks of adversity” when she, for some reason, overlooked reading The Communist Manifesto in high school. She got an A on her paper, but that isn’t the mark I’d give Google when there isn’t enough content to legitimately fill them local packs, Local Finders, and Maps.

The presence of irrelevant listings in response to important local queries:

Makes it unnecessarily difficult for searchers to find what they need

Makes it harder for relevant businesses to compete

Creates a false impression of bountiful local choice of resources, resulting in disappointing UX

Today, we’ll look at some original data in an attempt to quantify the extent of this problem, and explore what Google and local businesses can do about it.

What’s meant by “local filler” content and why is it such a problem?

The above screenshot captures the local pack results for a very specific search for a gastroenterologist in Angels Camp, California. In its effort to show me a pack, Google has scrambled together results that are two-thirds irrelevant to the full intent of my query, since I am not looking for either an eye care center or a pediatrician. The third result is better, even though Google had to travel about 15 miles from my specified search city to get it, because Dr. Eddi is, at least, a gastroenterologist.

It’s rather frustrating to see Google allowing the one accurate specialist to be outranked by two random local medical entities, perhaps simply because they are closer to home. It obviously won’t do to have an optometrist or children’s doctor consult with me on digestive health, and unfortunately, the situation becomes even odder when we click through to the local finder:

Of the twenty results Google has pulled together to make up the first page of the local finder, only two are actually gastroenterologists, lost in the weeds of podiatrists, orthopedic surgeons, general MDs, and a few clinics with no clarity as to whether their presence in the results relates to having a digestive health specialists on staff . Zero of the listed gastroenterologists are in the town I’ve specified. The relevance ratio is quite poor for the user and shapes a daunting environment for appropriate practitioners who need to be found in all this mess.

You may have read me writing before about local SEO seeking to build the online mirror of real-world communities. That’s the ideal: ensuring that towns and cities have an excellent digital reference guide to the local resources available to them. Yet when I fact-checked with the real world (calling medical practices around this particular town), I found that there actually are no gastroenterologists in Angels Camp, even though Google’s results might make it look like there must be. What I heard from locals is that you must either take a 25 minute drive to Sonora to see a GI doctor, or head west for an hour and fifteen minutes to Modesto for appropriate care.

Google has yoked itself to AI, but the present state of search leaves it up to my human intelligence to realize that the SERPs are making empty promises, and that there are, in fact, no GI docs in Angels Camp. This is what a neighbor, primary care doctor, or local business association would tell me if I was considering moving to this community and needed to be close to specialists. But Google tells me that there are more than 23 million organic choices relevant to my requirements, and scores of local business listings that so closely match my intent, they deserve pride of place in 3-packs, Finders and Maps.

The most material end result for the Google user is that they will likely experience unnecessary fatigue wasting time on the phone calling irrelevant doctors at a moment when they are in serious need of help from an appropriate professional. As a local SEO, I’m conditioned to look at local business categories and can weed out useless content almost automatically because of this, but is the average searcher noticing the truncated “eye care cent…” on the above listing? They’re almost certainly not using a Chrome extension like GMB Spy to see all the possible listing categories since Google decided to hide them years ago.

On a more philosophical note, my concern with local SERPs made up of irrelevant filler content is that they create a false picture of local bounty. As I recently mentioned to Marie Haynes:

The work of local businesses (and local SEOs!) derives its deepest meaning from providing and promoting essential local resources. Google’s inaccurate depiction of abundance could, even if in a small way, contribute to public apathy. The truth is that the US is facing a severe shortage of doctors, and anything that doesn’t reflect this reality could, potentially, undermine public action on issues like why our country, unlike the majority of nations, doesn’t make higher education free or affordable so that young people can become the medical professionals and other essential services providers we unquestionably need to be a functional society. Public well-being depends on complete accuracy in such matters.

As a local SEO, I want a truthful depiction of how well-resourced each community really is on the map, as a component of societal thought and decision-making. We’re all coping with public health and environmental emergencies now and know in our bones how vital essential local services have become.

Just how big is the problem of local filler content?

If the SERPs were more like humans, my query for “gastroenterologist Angels Camp” would return something like a featured snippet stating, “Sorry, our index indicates there are no GI Docs in Angels Camp. You’ll need to look in Sonora or Modesto for nearest options.” It definitely wouldn’t create the present scenario of, “Bad digestive system? See an eye doctor!” that’s being implied by the current results. I wanted to learn just how big this problem has become for Google.

I looked at the local packs in 25 towns and cities across California of widely varying populations using the search phrase “gastroenterologist” and each of the localities. I noted how many of the results returned were within the city specified in my search and how many used “gastroenterologist” as their primary category. I even gave Google an advantage in this test by allowing entries that didn’t use gastroenterologist as their primary category but that did have some version of that word in their business title (making the specialty clearer to the user) to be included in Google’s wins column. Of the 150 total data points I checked, here is what I found:

42% of the content Google presented in local packs had no obvious connection to gastroenterology. It’s a shocking number, honestly. Imagine the number of wearying, irrelevant calls patients may be making seeking digestive health consultation if nearly half of the practices listed are not in this field of medicine.

A pattern I noticed in my small sample set is that larger cities had the most relevant results. Smaller towns and rural areas had much poorer relevance ratios. Meanwhile, Google is more accurate as to returning results within the query’s city, as shown by these numbers:

The trouble is, what looks like more of a win for Google here doesn’t actually chalk up as a win for searchers. In my data set, where Google was accurate in showing results from my specified city, the entities were often simply not GI doctors. There were instances in which all 3 results got the city right, but zero of the results got the specialty right. In fact, in one very bizarre case, Google showed me this:

Welders aside, it’s important to remember that our initial Angels Camp example demonstrated how the searcher, encountering a pack with filler listings in it and drilling down further into the Local Finder results for help may actually end up with even less relevance. Instead of two-out-of-three local pack entries being useless to them, they may end up with two-out-of-twenty unhelpful listings, with relevance consigned to obscurity.

And, of course, filler listings aren’t confined to medical categories. I engaged in this little survey because I’d noticed how often, in category after category, the user experience is less-than-ideal.

What should Google do to lessen the poor UX of irrelevant listings?

Remember that we’re not talking about spam here. That’s a completely different headache in Googleland. I saw no instances of spam in my data. The welder was not trying to pass himself off as a doctor. Rather, what we have here appears to be a case of Google weighting location keywords over goods/services keywords, even when it makes no sense to do so.

Google needs to develop logic that excludes extremely irrelevant listings for specific head terms to improve UX. How might this logic work?

1. Google could rely more on their own categories. Going back to our original example in which an eye care center is the #1 ranked result for “gastroenterologist angels camp”, we can use GMB Spy to check if any of the categories chosen by the business is “gastroenterologist”:

Google can, of course, see all the categories, and this lack of “gastroenterologist” among them should be a big “no” vote on showing the listing for our query.

2. Google could cross check the categories with the oft-disregarded business description:

Again, no mention of gastroenterological services there. Another “no” vote.

3. Google could run sentiment analysis on the reviews for an entity, checking to see if they contain the search phrase:

Lots of mentions of eye care here, but the body of reviews contains zero mentions of intestinal health. Another “no” vote.

4. Google could cross check the specified search phrases against all the knowledge they have from their crawls of the entity’s website:

This activity should confirm that there is no on-site reference to Dr. Haymond being anything other than an ophthalmologist . Then Google would need to make a calculation to downgrade the significance of the location (Angels Camp) based on internal logic that specifies that a user looking for a gastroenterologist in a city would prefer to see gastroenterologists a bit farther away than seeing eye doctors (or welders) nearby. So, this would be another “no” vote for inclusion as a result for our query.

5. Finally, Google could cross reference this crawl of the website against their wider crawl of the web:

This should act as a good, final confirmation that Dr. Haymond is an eye doctor rather than a gastroenterologist, even if he is in our desired city, and give us a fifth “no” vote for bringing his listing up in response to our query.

The web is vast, and so is Google’s job, but I believe the key to resolving this particular type of filler content is for Google to rely more on the knowledge they have of an entity’s vertical and less on their knowledge of its location. A diner may be willing to swap out tacos for pizza if there’s a Mexican restaurant a block away but no pizzerias in town, but in these YMYL categories, the same logic should not apply.

It’s not uncommon for Google to exclude local results from appearing at all when their existing logic tells them there isn’t a good answer. It’s tempting to say that solving the filler content problem depends on Google expanding the number of results for which they don’t show local listings. But, I don’t think this is a good solution, because the user then commonly sees irrelevant organic entries, instead of local ones. It seems to me that a better path is for Google to expand the radius of local SERPs for a greater number of queries so that a search like ours receives a map of the nearest gastroenterologists, with closer, superfluous businesses filtered out.

What should you do if a local business you’re promoting is getting lost amid filler listings?

SEO is going to be the short answer to this problem. It’s true that you can click the “send feedback” link at the bottom of the local finder, Google Maps or an organic SERP, and fill out form like this, with a screenshot:

However, my lone report of dissatisfaction with SERP quality is unlikely to get Google to change the results. Perhaps if they received multiple reports…

More practically-speaking, if a business you’re promoting is getting lost amid irrelevant listings, search engine optimization will be your strongest tool for convincing Google that you are, in fact, the better answer. In our study, we realized that there are, in fact, no GI docs in Angels Camp, and that the nearest one is about fifteen miles away. If you were in charge of marketing this particular specialist, you could consider:

1. Gaining a foothold in nearby towns and cities

Recommend that the doctor develop real-world relationships with neighboring towns from which he would like to receive more clients. Perhaps, for example, he has hospital privileges, or participates in clinics or seminars in these other locales.

2. Writing about locality relationships

Publish content on the website highlighting these relationships and activities to begin associating the client’s name with a wider radius of localities.

3. Expanding the linktation radius

Seek relevant links and unstructured citations from the neighboring cities and towns, on the basis of these relationships and participation in a variety of community activities.

4. Customizing review requests based on customers’ addresses

If you know your customers well, consider wording review requests to prompt them to mention why it’s worth it to them to travel from X location for goods/services (nota bene: medical professionals, of course, need to be highly conversant with HIPPA compliance when it comes to online reputation management).

5. Filling out your listings to the max

Definitely do give Google and other local business listing platforms the maximum amount of information about the business you’re marketing (Moz Local can help!) . Fill out all the fields and give a try to functions like Google Posts, product listings, and Q&A.

6. Sowing your seeds beyond the walled garden

Pursue an active social media, video, industry, local news, print, radio, and television presence to the extent that your time and budget allows. Google’s walled garden, as defined by my friend, Dr. Pete, is not the only place to build your brand. And, if my other pal, Cyrus Shepard, is right, anti-trust litigation could even bring us to a day when Google’s own ramparts become less impermeable. In the meantime, work at being found beyond Google while you continue to grapple with visibility within their environment.

Study habits

It’s one thing for a student to fudge a book report, but squeaking by can become a negative lifelong habit if it isn’t caught early. I’m sure any Google staffer taking the time to actually read through the local packs in my survey would agree that they don’t rate an A+.

I’ve been in local SEO long enough to remember when Google first created their local index with filler content pulled together from other sources, without business owners having any idea they were even being represented online, and these early study habits seem to have stuck with the company when it comes to internal decision making that ends up having huge real-world impacts. The recent title tag tweak that is rewriting erroneous titles for vaccine landing pages is a concerning example of this lack of foresight and meticulousness.

If I could create a syllabus for Google’s local department, it would begin with separating out categories of the greatest significance to human health and safety and putting them through a rigorous, permanent manual review process to ensure that results are as accurate as possible, and as free from spam, scams, and useless filler content as the reviewers can make them. Google has basically got all of the money and talent in the world to put towards quality, and ethics would suggest they are obliged to make the investment.

Society deserves accurate search results delivered by studious providers, and rural and urban areas are worthy of equal quality commitments and a more nuanced approach than one-size-fits all. Too often, in Local, Google is flunking for want of respecting real-world realities. Let’s hope they start applying themselves to the fullest of their potential.