Request: Richie X Reader where the reader is 2 years older than the
Losers, and one day she sees Henry and his goons beating Richie up, so she
steps in and stops them, then Richie falls head over heels for her but thinks
she wouldn’t like him back because he’s younger than her. Sorry if it’s too
to his side, Richie heaved harshly, feeling as though his insides might cave in
if he wasn’t careful enough. It felt like at any second he would black out, and
who knows what Henry and his gang of fucking assholes would do to him next. A
soft groan escaped his lips as he was pressed farther up against the brick wall
of the alley way. Maybe blacking out wouldn’t be that bad at this point?
“Hey, would you guys fuck
off?” A strong voice echoed through the alley, bouncing off the bricks and
ringing in Richies ears. The voice that was now echoing throughout his brain
did not seem like the kind that would be saying such harsh words, and he
squinted slightly to see who the voice was coming from, his glasses having been
thrown somewhere on the ground, currently out of his reach. The silhouette of a
girl came towards them, that same girl pulling Henry by his shoulder. “Leave
the kid alone. Don’t you have a circle jerk to attend, assholes?” She spat,
standing in front of Richie’s body, guarding him from further abuse. Richie
could hear angry words being exchanged, but he was too close to passing out
that he couldn’t make sense of them. All he could make sense of was when the
girl knelt beside him, pushing sticky stands of matted hair from his forehead,
giving a small smile when his eyes met hers.
“Are you okay?” Her soft
voice asked, her eyes scanning his body to make sure nothing on him was broken.
Richie nodded slowly, leaning up on his elbows before pushing into a sitting
position, leaning against the wall of the building next to him.
“Do you see a pair of
glasses anywhere?” Richie asked her, his voice sounding broken and gentle. The
girl looked around before standing, walking back to the opening of the alley.
Richie watched her with squinted eyes as she bent over, picking up his slightly
bent glasses from the concrete and coming back to him. She knelt next to his
legs, pushing the glasses onto his face and smiling at him as he blinked,
looking back up at her. “Thank you…” He whispered out. For the first time he
didn’t feel like he could crack a joke, or even smile. His body was aching and
sore, and all he wanted to do was go home, but he knew that if he tried going
alone he would end up passing out somewhere along the way. He took in a deep
breath, looking up at the girl slowly.
“Do…you need me to walk you
home?” She asked, as if reading him mind. Richie nodded slowly in response,
everything he could do, slow. The girl stood and held her hand out, offering it
to him to help him stand. He took it carefully, letting her pull him to his
feet. He was about the same height as her, maybe an inch taller, his eyes
meeting with hers also perfectly.
On the way to Richie’s
house, they talked in quiet voice. She told him her name was YN, and she was
currently a senior in high school. Richie looked down at his feet when she said
this, a small pain hitting his chest and he wasn’t sure why. He was currently a
sophomore at 16, not that much younger than she was now, but for some reason it
seemed to bother him more than it normally would have. He couldn’t help but
think that the girl that walked next to him was, in her own way, beautiful in
his eyes. The closer they got to his house, the more he wished that he lived
farther down the road, just so that he would be able to talk to her for a
little bit longer. If Richie could hear her voice next to him for just a few more
seconds, everything would be fine. Stepping onto the sidewalk that led to
Richie’s front door, he finally gave her a small smile.
“Thanks…for bringing me
back. And for sticking up for me.” Richie told her. YN smiled back, pulling him
towards her for a hug, before turning to walk back down the street to go home.
“No problem, Richie. Don’t
be a stranger.” She responded, waving to him over her shoulder before walking
away. Richie stood watching her until she turned the corner, out of his sight. He
bit his lower lip, wishing he was just a little bit cooler. Maybe then she
would like him? He shook his head before walking up to his house, not knowing
how he was feeling anymore.
It’s bigger than I expected. Huge, actually. Four brick
buildings ring around a courtyard area with picnic tables dotted here and
there. An opulent blue lake shimmers behind the parking lot, where my father
has just parked the van. Over the roofs of the buildings I can see rock climbing
walls, abseiling towers and zip lines stretching through the skies. Well, this
was certainly not a half-rate summer camp. It was a place for rich parents to
dump their trust fund kids while they went on a luxury cruise. Not that I was
bitter or anything,
Okay, maybe a bit.
“Well, Feyre, what do you think?”
My father’s voice snapped through my daydreaming, and I twisted around to face
“It’s very… grand.”
He chuckled, the sound almost as alien as the jet skis I
could see on the edge of the lake. “You better get used to it, honey. I know it’s
a lot different than what we’re used to.”
“I better get going.” I said, starting to open the van door. “I don’t want to
be late. First day and all.”
Obviously, I was not a trust fund girl getting dumped at a
camp for the summer while my dad went on a wine tour of Europe, or some other
rich people shit. I was the newest addition to the camp councillors of Camp
“At least let me help you sign in.”
“Really, dad, it’s fine. I’m a big girl now.”
Nineteen, in fact.
“I know. It’s just… You’re my little girl Feyre. I’m going
to miss you.”
At this, I patted his shoulder reassuringly, trying to
muster confidence myself.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. But if you need anything…”
“I won’t. No go. Enjoy yourself. But no drinking. And no
I rolled my eyes at him, incredulous. As if I would meet anyone here.
“Goodbye, dad. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
We gave each other an awkward one armed side hug. Not a lot
of room in a tiny van. Not to mention the suitcase and backpack I somehow had
balanced on my knees.
We said one less goodbye before I climbed out, trying the
best I could to not drop all my luggage. Miraculously, I managed and, after one
less wave, walked into the building I knew as the reception. According to the
map I was given prior to my arrival.
The reception area is a medium sized room with wood panelled
walls and a smooth linoleum floor. In the centre of the room is a large desk,
with no visible papers or any other things you would usually find on a desk. A
state of the art computer sits neatly in the desk and behind that is a woman
who, despite rapidly tapping on her keyboard, her acrylic nails making the
sound a thousand times louder, is having a rapid phone conversation. She still
hasn’t noticed me.
I clear my throat and her head springs up. She hurriedly
says goodbye to whoever was on the other end of the phone and smiles at me,
propping her hands under her chin, somehow looking more organized and classy
than I ever would.
“Um. I’m Feyre. Feyre Archeron?” Somehow it came out as a question. “I’m here
for the councillor job.”
“Oh yes! Hold on a second, let me just check.” The woman, whose nametag I
cannot read, begins tapping again on her keyboard. “You’re also helping out
with our arts activities, yes?”
“Oh. Um, yeah.”
“If you could just sign here for me, dear.” She hands me a clipboard. I quickly
sign the form, confirming that I am, in fact, Feyre Archeron, a nineteen year
old art student from Ohio.
I hand it back, and she types a few more things out onto her computer.
“Welcome aboard, Feyre! I’m Alis, the head councillor-slash-secretary-slash-assistant
manager at Camp Velaris.” She hands me another pack not unlike the one I
received a few months ago when I first signed up for this job. “In here you’ll
find all you need to know. Which room you’re in, what activities you’ll be
helping with, a general schedule etc., etc.”
Alis also hands me a nametag, a pass and a pile t-shirt.
“This is you’re official pass. With it you can go anywhere in the camp. Try not
to lose it, dear. You will also be expected to wear the shirt whenever you’re
leading camp activities. Well, that’s all you need to know for now. Your
roommates will inform you about the rest.”
“My roommates?” I had never been told about roommates.
“Yes. You’ll be sharing a room with a few other girls. I
hope that’s okay.”
“No, it’s fine.” Just a little unexpected.
“You better get going, dear, or it’ll be time for dinner
before you know it.”
“Goodbye, then. Thank you.”
I turned to leave, somewhat clumsily attempting to pick up my suitcase with
full arms. I had reached the door when I hear Alis say,
I half turned around, looking at her from over my shoulder.
“Welcome to the family, dear.”
My dorm was beautiful.
Certainly not what you’d expect from a summer camp. It wasn’t
really even a dorm. It was more like a cabin. A million dollar cabin. There was
only one flaw in this. Roommates. My experience with them hadn’t been a
completely positive experience. And by roommates, I mean sisters. We were
always bickering about who was hogging the mirror or who had stolen an outfit.
The arguing had toned down since Nesta went to college, but fights still happened
from time to time.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed open a door with one
To a completely empty dorm.
Well, not completely empty, obviously. On the bed in the
right hand corner someone had obviously been there. Clothes were strewn around
and on the bed, and several shoes lined the floor. On the opposite side of the
room, the side nearest to the door, was another bed, meticulously made, with a
black suitcase neatly pushed under the bed.
Which left me with the bed in the free corner of the room. I
dumped my suitcase on top, too tired from the drive here to even think about
unpacking. Besides, there was no rush. The kids didn’t arrive for another two
days. I stretched, my muscles aching from the six hour drive in a cramped van.
I also stank. Not the greatest first impression to give your new roommates.
Groaning, I stood up and walked towards the ensuite bathroom, a small room
tucked away in a corner. After a hot -and relaxing- shower, I quickly dress in
jeans and a sweater and pull my hair up into a messy bun. I’m just sitting back
down onto my bed when the door swings open and a girl walks in.
I quickly stand up, not wanting to be too awkward.
“You must be Feyre!” She says excitedly.
“That’s me. And you must be…”
“Morrigan! Or Mor. Whatever! I’m just so excited to have a roommate who I don’t
have to worry about murdering me in my sleep.”
Instead of voicing my concern at a potential killer roommate, I stick out my
hand. But instead of shaking it, she pulls me into a hug.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I was helping the boys unpack.”
“It’s fine. And who are the boys?”
“Oh, just my cousin and our friends. You’ll meet them later. They’re also
Okay, aside from a possible murderer as a roommate, I found I didn’t mind having
people sharing a room with me that much. Well, I didn’t mind Morrigan that
much. Sure, she was a little messy and loud, but she talked me through what
Alis had missed.
I still hadn’t met Amren, the other roommate, yet, but Mor
said she was hardly ever here.
“She has her own apartment somewhere. She won’t tell anyone
where, but she sometimes stays here.”
“How many summers have you been working here for?” I asked as we began walking
towards the canteen.
“Five. Ever since I turned sixteen. Me and Rhys, my cousin, came
here before that as kids. I loved it so much I couldn’t resist working here.”
She links my arm, tugging me towards what I assume must be the cafeteria. “Come
on. I’m starving. And they always do an all you can eat before the kids come.”
An incredibly nice, and filling, dinner later, I am sat
cross legged on my bed while Mor rifles through her suitcase. She holds up two dresses to me.
“Which one? Or are dresses too formal for a bonfire?”
“The red one. And which bonfire?”
She shoots me an incredulous look before answering. “Alis didn’t tell you?
Every year before camp starts all the councillors have a huge bonfire. Get to
know the newbies. Well, that’s what we say. Everyone knows it’s a chance to get
“You’re coming though, right?” Mor asks me, going into the
bathroom. “I mean, you have to. It’s the last time to do anything before it
gets too crazy. Tomorrow’s all about getting ready for the kids.”
My uncertainty must have shown on my face, for Mor’s face turns pleading.
“Feyre. You have to come. You can meet my friends!”
“Fine. Fine, I’ll come. But this is peer pressure, you know.”
Here’s some dreamy clawshock (Darcy/Logan) for @dresupi and the end of summer. Honey, I hope it gives you the warm buzzies (see what i did there?) and any one else that needs some. <3<3<3
Rating: T for language
Pairing: Darcy Lewis/ Logan (Wolverine)
“Don’t give me that look,” he said, leaning into the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, straining the sleeves of his flannel. “It’s not forever.”
Darcy tried to erase whatever look she’d been wearing. It was unconscious, really. Logan just snorted at her and stepped back into the cabin.
“Come and put your shit down,” he said.
It was nice, if she was being honest. It was quaint which was weird because in her experience Logan was…rough and if she had walked in to find, like, a store of canned food and two sleeping cots she would not have been surprised. But there was a couch and a wood burning stove and a coffee table with little cork coasters and a half finished beer. There were even curtains. Plain curtains that he’d probably gotten at the dollar store, but it wasn’t newspaper over the windows so Logan must really have been feeling at home.
“Running water and everything,” he said drily.
She realized he’d been watching her take in the space. (She could see a kitchen through a doorway and there was a nice little hall off to the left for the bedrooms and bathroom.)
“It’s nice. Thanks for taking me in,” she said.
“Figured the only way of keeping you out of trouble was putting you somewhere you can’t find any internet,” he said, and then he turned and left her for the kitchen. “Your room is on the left side of the hall. You want a beer?”
“Please,” she said.
Way to bring it home, Logan, she thought as she drifted down the hall. Jane was out of the country and Darcy, in her restlessness, had accidentally broken into the wrong end of the dark web. And by accidentally she just meant she wanted to do her part for the good of mankind, maybe? But when the whisperings about her turned into outright requests for someone to take care of one Darcy Lewis?? Well Tony, and Phil, and Jane at a distance, and pretty much anyone else that thought they had a vote in her life, decided it was high time to put her somewhere for safekeeping.
ivy on wet brick, sock rings around ankles, loose lips on tired arms, orange juice with pulp, sourdough appetizers, headlights on dark rainy pavement, pressed leaves in wax paper, tires like static on gravel
The earliest form of printing: Akkadian Stamp of the Builder of the Temple of Ishtar, Naram-Sîn, from Akkad, Sumer c. 2291-2254 BC
A royal inscription on a clay and gold stamp in Sumerian cuneiform, it reads:
NARAM-SÎN WHO BUILT THE TEMPLE OF ISHTAR
There are three more brick stamps of the Akkadian King Naram-Sîn with the same text known: one in the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, one in the Kalamazoo Public Library, Michigan and a tiny fragment in the British Museum. Naram-Sîn was the first king to use blocks for printing bricks. Prior to him the inscriptions on the bricks were written by hand. These 3 brick stamps with the known bricks, are the earliest evidence of printing, in this case blindprinting on soft clay.
Naram-Sîn was the third successor and grandson of King Sargon of Akkad. Under Naram-Sîn the Akkadian Empire reached its zenith. He was the first Mesopotamian king known to have claimed divinity for himself, and one of the first to be called “King of the Four Quarters.” There is an inscription on the Bassetki Statue from the reign of Naram-Sîn with an inscription mentioning the construction of a temple in Akkad after he had crushed a revolt against his rule. (Perhaps this is the the temple mentioned on the stamp?) The Bassetki Statue was looted from the Iraq Museum during the 2003 invasion of Iraq but subsequently retrieved and returned to the museum.
Akkad was the capital of the Akkadian Empire, which was the dominant political force in Mesopotamia at the end of the third millennium BC. The existence of Akkad is known only from textual sources; its location has not yet been identified, although scholars have proposed a number of different sites. Most recent proposals point to a location east of the Tigris.