#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (Monroe) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

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04. The Apex Begins

AU Grace and Simon story. Takes place in the instance that they never got on the train, but crossed paths and became friends. But, for the sake of anyone who wants to view it as a series, I’ll number them. 2468 Words TW for violence, mental health discourse, unresolved trauma

NOTE: I wanted to sort of put the concept of “the apex” into the story without actually having a cult of children. I think that the circumstances of the train led to the philosophy going that far, but I still think that in real world situations, both of these characters would both 1. be prone to violence and 2. develop an us vs them mindset.

This was who they were together. Grace and Simon. She would venture into town, figure out some excuse, and he would meet her. They traveled the city together, taking whatever they wanted, because rich people sucked and if you owned a business, you were rich and deserved whatever happened. They got into scuffles with people who seemed to disrespect one or both of them. They instantly went into defensive mode over each other.

Neither was afraid to resort to violence, because that’s just what you did for friends. You did anything that they needed. You did whatever you had to do. That was a good sign of survival of the fittest. That was the proof that you were better than everybody else - that you were the apex of human evolution.

If you had to answer to people and were afraid to challenge them and fight for yourself and your loved ones - you were less than nothing. You were a “null.” Grace and Simon had decided that they would never be like that, and they didn’t have to be, because they had each other. He thought she was a true queen, and she trusted him with her life.

She lost her driver over it. That was one of the things that she did hate, because he sort of had to suffer for her to be able to have this solid friendship with Simon, and she loved her driver and everything...

But he wasn’t Simon, so he could be sacrificed. He had to be. She had come back to the car with a huge plug of her hair missing and she laughed it off and said that she had gotten caught on something on the train and accidentally ripped it out. That was actually partially true.

A woman on the train got herself into a fight with Grace. She was some college lady, making faces whenever Grace and Simon were talking too loud and practically snarling at Grace. Simon began to imitate her, and she sat there growing red in the face, obviously noticing them, but whenever Grace joined in to make fun of her as well, she got irate. They called each other names and Grace dared the woman to hit her, so... she was willing to sort of take responsibility for the fact that the woman came through on the dare and slapped her right in the face. Grace laughed, but also charged towards her...

The woman had taken a handful of her hair after an argument that escalated into violence, into her punching the woman in the gut while she clutched Grace’s hair trying to get her off, and it didn’t end until Simon had dragged the woman off of the train in a choke hold and threw her down on the terminal, ready to stomp the life out of her. The woman shielded herself with both of her arms, praying that this boy didn’t kick her. Fortunately for her, he didn’t. He wanted to and definitely would have after the way that she’d attacked Grace, but Grace stopped him.

She pointed to a surveillance camera, with her other arm blocking her face from it. She and Simon took off running, leaving an almost passed out (obnoxious) college student with a bruised midsection and holding a plug of hair in her fist. Simon stole Grace a mask not too long after. He had nothing to lose as far as he was concerned, but her family was well known in this place and she did worry about them knowing about this part of her life.

The driver had been going through months of covering for Grace, but this missing plug of hair - he had to take action. She’d told her lie and her mother stressed over all of her beautiful hair that they had to shave off, but she spun in that Grace was doing “the big chop” and going natural… Grace was kinda into that. She often had curly styles, but her hair wasn’t that type of curly, so work went into her look. Work that she hopefully wouldn’t have to go through for a while, now that she was starting her hair journey over. In her video chat with Simon afterwards, he thought it was an amazing look for her, so she quickly got over it.

The driver spoke with her parents, admitting that he allowed her to spend time with a friend in town sometimes, (he didn’t give them details about Simon specifically), but that he honestly thought that she might need some professional help, because she always came back banged up or covered in something suspicious. She’d freshen up and change in the car and clean out the backseat with extreme diligence and tell them a lie about where she had been. Well… This was not only news to them, but HAD to have been fake news.

They weren’t sure why he would LIE this way about their perfect child, but they knew he was, because there was no way Grace would EVER stand up against them.

“I think that she may need some serious help.”

“You are the help,” Mrs. Monroe told him.

“I’m not the kind of help that Grace needs…” He started.

“You’re right,” Mr. Monroe told him. “You’re obviously useless. Expect your last paycheck in the mail. We no longer require your services.” Whenever Grace was sent for, she passed the driver on the way to the living room. He looked sad and wished her well as they crossed paths. “Grace!” Her father called. She jumped and ran into the room. “We’ve let your driver go.”

She gasped and placed her hand over her heart, “Oh my God! What happened, Daddy?”

Her mother spoke, “He suggested that you need help. We gathered that he was insinuating psychiatric help, from the tales he was spinning about your behavior in the city.” Grace froze and touched the spot where the missing plug of hair had been. That must have been it. The thing that was about to lose her everything that she had formed with Simon… “Of course, we know that he is mistaken. We didn’t raise someone that weak or lazy.” Grace’s eyes were large and damp. She nodded. “IF you needed help… that would be very unfortunate. A lot of work would be down the drain.”

Grace’s throat was dry as she said, “I’ve told you everything that happens whenever I go into town. I;m not sure why he would say that I’ve done anything wrong. I would never embarrass you.”

Both of her parents advanced on her and she was frozen still, unsure of what would happen next. They both gave her a hug and told her that was the perfect response. “Imagine! Our daughter needing help, aside from the likes of the staff? I never thought that I would ever hear something so ridiculous,” her mother said, then quickly grabbed her by the chin harder than she knew was out of love and the threatening look in her eyes confirmed that much as she said, through the teeth of her smile, “And we’d better not ever hear such a thing about you again.” She nodded, terrified.

Mrs. Monroe let go of her face and Mr. Monroe simply gave her a look, the look that told her he knew that she was lying and he was disappointed in her. At least he wasn’t saying so. But, Grace was both relieved and shaken up.

So, they gave Grace a new driver, and Grace explained to him straight out of the gate the way it was going to work for them to function and him to keep his job. He was younger than her last driver, and didn’t mind letting her sneak off and enjoy herself. Her parents were total hardasses,so he understood her desire to get some time away sometimes. Plus, he had no idea the kinds of things she got up to whenever she left the vehicle. He didn’t know that the last driver was absolutely right and that she probably did seriously need some help. Unfortunately, she didn’t know it either. She just knew that she had to be more careful.

A mask helped, and because she had the body of a dancer, some counter culture street wear and a shaved head, people often seemed to think that there were two boys terrorizing them. Simon shaved the back of his head in solidarity, but she thought he did it to look “even more broody.”

Any time that Grace and Simon engaged with someone in conflict, Simon had a habit of taking something off of them and giving it to Grace. Her collection was getting pretty big. She kept all of the trinkets in her hope chest. The thing was just symbolic, anyways. She was never gonna get married and she wasn’t sure that her parents honestly expected her to.

Compromise only went so far with the Monroes. Grace had become brave enough to make suggestions in her sweetest voice without paralyzing fear, but she definitely still felt afraid whenever she did speak up. Being 14 and old enough to go to high school, she REALLY wanted to finally be able to go be with other kids! She wanted to meet other people and find out things that they had in common or whatever else teenagers did when they got to high school. And, fortunately for her, her father was sure that another recession was coming and didn’t mind saving a little on private instructors…

HOWEVER, she definitely wasn’t going to be allowed to go to Simon’s school (the school she’d suggested). So, they enrolled her into the most prestigious private school in town.

Whenever she found out that she would be going, she asked Simon if it was at all possible for him to go to that school too. After two full minutes of him laughing in her face, to the point of belly ache and tears, he cleared his throat, wiped his eyes and reminded her, “That place is for rich kids.”

It just so happened that she had read about this school and there were multiple programs in which less fortunate students could earn scholarships. She had known Simon for almost 4 years and had seen him be very good at many things that required mental intelligence and/or technical skill. He was good at creating things, building stuff, writing, photography.... There had to be something he was good enough at to gain a scholarship.

“There is literally nothing that I’m good enough at to get a scholarship into a school like that,” he said, while she was pacing and talking to herself about all of the things that Simon was great at, going down the list out loud to come up with a plan to get him into school with her. He rolled his eyes and went back to typing on the hand me down laptop that he’d gotten from her whenever her parents bought her a new one. Simon really appreciated that Grace thought so highly of his skills, but he knew that the school wouldn’t share her affinity for him or any of his skills.

She sputtered air through her lips - a habit that she’d had for many years, and then she looked up and said, “Write an essay about your family.” He tensed up, frowned and stared at her.

Grace smiled, put her hands behind her back and sauntered over to him. “It sounds painful right now, BUT this will not only give you a chance to get out some of the stress that you hold inside, keeping it all in, it’ll ALSO be just what those stuffy adults on the board need to have some mercy on us and let you into the school. I’ve read somewhere that it doesn’t help to hold things in. Think of it as... journaling, but for your future!”

Simon did journaling, sort of. He definitely wrote about his life, but translated it into fantasy, outside of his manifesto, of course. But, that wasn’t the point right now. “You think that telling people that I accidentally let my baby sister die, which caused my mom to become so angry at me that she devolved into this abusive and suicidal phantom that lives in our house, and made my father neglect me and her, up until he reenlisted in the military and left me to take care of somebody who absolutely hates me - is a good thing to tell a place with an upstanding reputation?”

She winced with every word he said. She had been around for most of that and had been the only person to see him through most of it. But, now, she was telling him exactly this. “I think that this kind of stuff, while atrocious and painful to US, is like a drug to them. They wanna take you and say, look how I’ve fixed this up. They want to take your pain and make it into a story that they can brag about.”

“And why would I want them to do that?” he asked, shivering at the thought of anybody else but her and Samantha to ever learn about his family issues. Journaling was one thing, but this was something different and it felt extremely uncomfortable.

“It’s not that you would want to do it. It’s that it would be a way for us to be in school together,” she said.

“It’s asking a lot, Grace.” He set the laptop aside and shook his head, “I wanna be with you. You know I do, but it’s really asking a lot.”

She lowered her head, nodded, and flopped down on the seat next to him on her cushioned reading bench. “You’re right. I’m so sorry that I suggested that. I guess desperation made me weird. I don’t see the point of even going to school and meeting other people if I don’t have you there with me. You’re kinda like the other side of me that my parents never let bloom. Me in a new school surrounded by all those strangers without you… That’s gonna be like me navigating life chopped in half. I know that I can't be my best there without “us.” I guess I panicked and didn’t think about what it would mean for you to have to think about the way your adults have done you.” She clasped her hands together, sputtered out some air, and rested her lips against them, silently praying for some type of plan or something.

He didn’t like the condition she was in and now he felt guilty. “Okay,” Simon said. He reached over and covered her clasped hands with one of his own and pulled her into a hug with his other arm. “I’ll do it.” He was shivering and she wanted to tell him not to worry about it, that it was too much to ask and if he didn’t want to, not to do it for her benefit. But, she was 14, and very selfish. So, all she did was smile at him and push some strands of hair from his face. Their faces were really close, but she didn’t really ever think about stuff like that. There wasn’t any “personal space” between them. He was her other half and that meant his personal space was simply an extension of hers. He had other thoughts about it, but he certainly wasn’t going to say so.

He blushed and grabbed his laptop. “I’m gonna work on it at home, though…” They told each other everything, but he didn’t necessarily trust himself to be presentable as he relived some of these things about his life. He didn’t want her to see him crying or having a tantrum or tugging at his own hair to redirect his pain. He wanted privacy to dissect his heart this way. He wanted discretion. He didn’t want to look weak. You couldn’t extend to the apex by being weak.

She was looking in the mirror and admiring her face, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he was facing by agreeing to this. He understood. He often admired her face too, though he didn’t know how to tell her that the rest of them were a little luckier… She looked even prettier in front of you than she did in her reflection. She smiled at him and squinted her eyes, “What?”

“Nothing! I’m going now. Bye.”

“Until later!” she cheered. She had no idea how hard his night was about to be. She didn’t even ask… but he also didn’t tell her...

#infinity train #infinity train fanfiction #Nesha Fanfiction #AU Infinity Train #fics #If They Didn't Get on the Train #The Apex Begins #Girl That's Queuedt #Scheduled to post 12 hours before the end #Wonder if I'll have the motivation to finish it afterwards

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hargrves-blog · 6 years

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Born to be Wild

pairing → billy hargrove x reader

summary → y/n is the drag racing queen until billy hargrove, the new boy in town, wants to race y/n for the crown.

word count → 1.7k

warnings → swearing

song rec → born to be wild by steppenwolf

(not my gif)

The roar of the crowd boosts your confidence as you line up your ‘70 Plymouth Barracuda onto the imaginary starting line. Even though you won several races many times before, this was the second time you experienced anxiety, the first time being your first race.

Smirking, you tried to hide your feelings of doubt. Rumors surfaced that Billy Hargrove wanted to race the best sprinter in town, which turned out to be facts as you noticed him in school. The day he pulled up with that ‘79 Camaro, you already knew he held that confidence and ego that screamed “dick-head jock from California who breaks hearts”.

Your first interaction with him was before the race earlier today. You were sitting on the hood of your car talking to some friends until Billy and his gang approached you. He held that cocky smirk on his face with a cigarettes in between his fingers. You two stood face to face, looking at each other as if it was a competition to see who was the most intimidating.

Copying his expression, you eyed him from head to toe. “Well well well. The crowned keg king himself, coming to one of my races,” you sneered. “Came to watch me race?”

Billy pulled the cigarette from his lips and stomped it out. “Actually, I heard there was a ‘queen’ of racing here in this shithole,” he said. “And I came to race her.”

“You’re staring right at her, Hargrove,” you scoffed. His gaze trailed you as you began to circle him, inspecting him. “Y/n y/l, and I rule these streets.” You stopped in front of him and crossed your arms around your chest, a serious expression now across your face.

The boy’s smile widened at your words. “Too bad I’m gonna steal the crown, Princess,” he taunted and crossed his arms over his chest. You noticed his buddies crowded closer around him as if they were his bodyguards. A large crowd of spectators noticed the interaction between you two and gathered, watching two of the most feared teenagers tease each other for the crown.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the word “princess”. You weren’t a princess. You weren’t some weak girl locked up in a tower somewhere, waiting for Prince Charming to save her life from the evil dragon or witch or whatever. That made you even more angry.

You laughed, throwing your head back at Billy’s remark. You shook your head and smiled after you were done with your laughing fit. “Y-you? Steal my crown? From me?” you said in between laughs. “Oh Hargrove, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard from you.”

Billy’s smile faded and turned into a frown, wrinkles forming on his forehead from narrowed eyes. You made him snap, and it fueled your ego.

“From here, down the street to Monroe, turn back and whoever gets here first, gets the crown,” you declared.

“Deal,” he agreed with a stern tone, his expression unchanged.

“See you on the streets, Hargrove,” you blew him a kiss and threw him a middle finger as you walked away towards your car. The crowd went wild.

Now you were in your car at the starting line, gripping the wheel so hard your knuckles turned pale. The sun beamed against your red Barracuda, exposing the flecks and small sparkles in your paint job.

The growl of an engine grew louder as the navy muscle car pulled up beside you. Billy rolled down the passenger window and leaned over. “Don’t push it Princess, especially with your car,” he yelled over the loud engines. “You’ll spin out if you go over your limit.”

You looked over at him with a cold expression. “I know, dumbass,” you snapped at him and focused on the road in front of you.

The starter girl walked in between the two cars and faced the drivers. Pointing to you, she gave you a wink and said, “You ready?”

You revved your engine in agreement and the spectators cheered loudly. They loved you.

“I know you’re ready,” the girl pointed at Billy and gave him a wink.

The sound of the Camaro’s engine made the crowd yell even louder. You rolled your eyes.

The starter held up two red bandanas, one in each hand, and exclaimed, “On your marks, get set, go go go!”

The red bandanas were down, and you stepped on the gas.

Both of the cars lurched forward and sped off, leaving smoke and tire marks on the street behind you. The purr of the engines were familiar to you and brought back memories of old races you did in the past.

Billy was just another racer, you told yourself. Just drive, remember your gears, and drive.

On the right side mirror, you saw his car slowly pulling up beside yours. He was fast, but you weren’t sure about his gears. It was difficult to handle a Camaro, but something told you that he was familiar with his car better than knowing the back of his hand.

You focused on the road in front of you and shifted your gear, the cherry red car increasing the distance between you and Billy.

Looking at the rearview mirror, you saw the car quickly close the distance between you two and pulled over beside your car.

“Remember what I said Princess,” he yelled over at you. “Don’t push it too far.”

You ignored his comment and accelerated forward, racing towards the midpoint of the race.

You inched closer to the sign that indicated Monroe Street. Checking your side mirror again, he was only inches away from being fully beside you.

You knew the roads better than he did, and you knew every single trick to make you advance.

Quickly jerking the steering wheel to the right, the car suddenly turned a 180 so that it faced the opposite way from where you came from.

You could see Billy’s surprised and horrified expression as you passed by him and sped off. You left him in the dust, and you loved it. You exclaimed and laughed in joy. You loved looking at the defeated faces of your opponent and you were addicted to it.

Billy swerved his car, but not as gracefully as you did. The loud hum of his engine increased as he sped towards you. You could see his furious face from the rearview mirror.

You’re almost there, y/n. You can do it.

Billy alined his car beside yours and you glanced at him. His eyes were glued to the road, his lips in a thin line.

You were inching towards the finishing line as you looked at the street signs you sped by. The familiar big oak tree that you always passed by during races indicated you were only a few seconds away from a win-- or a big defeat.

Shifting your gears again, the red Barracuda soared as you accelerated forward. Billy did the same; his Camaro lurching forward but was a few inches ahead of you. The gas pedal was basically on the floor at this point. Adjusting the clutch would help a little, but you knew Billy had a few cards up his sleeve. You saved the best for last.

The crowd of people slowly came to view as you sped down the street. They immediately cleared the street as they saw you and Billy quickly approaching.

This is it. This was the moment.

The blue vehicle lurched forward several feet in front of you. Only a couple more yards left.

It was as if time slowed down. Billy was only a few feet from you, and all you had to do was one more stick shift--

Your car flew in front his, crossing the finish line before Billy.

You slowed your car into a stop, and the crowd gathered around you cheering. Your friends came and slapped your back and kept saying that they can’t believe you just beat Billy Hargrove. You really couldn’t believe that you just beat Billy Hargrove in a drag race.

You saw him exit his car and get surrounded by a couple of people. He just lit a cigarette and walked towards you with a blank face.

To be honest, you expected the worst. A yelling from him, an argument, maybe a fist fight if it escalated.

Billy took a drag of his cigarette and smiled at you without a hint of loss in his expression. “I guess I underestimated you, princess,” he mumbled with a cigarette in between his teeth.

“Thanks,” I replied and crossed my arms. “You were pretty good, for a new boy.” He shrugged and plucked the roll of tobacco from his mouth. “I’ve done it a few times, but props to you.” His cocky smirk came back, and you couldn’t help it but smile back.

“It’s whatever.”

As the crowd dispersed, you two remained together in an awkward silence. You waved goodbye to your friends for they went home a little early. The rest of the onlookers hung around or went someplace else.

You caught Billy looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, fidgeting with his cigarette.

“Something on my face?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled lightly. “No, you’re just cute.”

You scoffed and dismissed him with a wave of your hand. “Whatever.”

“It’s true, you aren’t like other girls.”

“Says everybody.”

Billy frowned. “You don’t believe me?”

You laughed. “Fuck no. Literally everyone says that to everybody.”

Billy stomped his cigarette out and walked up to you. You could feel his breath on your face as he looked down at you with those big, blue eyes. Every girl said he was the new hot-shot in Hawkins, Indiana. You kind of believed them now.

“You’re different, y/n,” he cooed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You tilted your head slightly and smiled smugly. You swear you saw him melt right in front of you.

“Listen, fuckboy from sunny California.” He huffed at this. “You can chase after the other girls, play with them, and break their hearts. That’s your business.” You got closer to him and wiped that smirk off your face. “You’re gonna get hell if you want me,” you sneered at him.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I like a good game.”

You scoffed and walked away, giving him the middle finger behind you.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #dacre montomery x reader #dacre montgomery fic #dacre montgomery imagine #mine

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Corn! For SIlvana

Closed starter for @silvana-alvarez

Location: Lost in a Corn Maze

Monroe hadn’t intended to spend her Saturday lost in a corn maze, and yet that is exactly what it was turning out to be. She had a strong feeling it had something to do with the group of teenagers that had rushed past, whooping and hollering with what looked suspiciously like one of the signposts in their hands. She spotted a bridge and made a beeline for it, hoping to get a vantage point to find a way out, but when she climbed the steps up above the stalks of corn she spotted the familiar figure of one of the few colleges she didn’t get along with. She considered backing back down but decided she didn’t feel like being the stereotypical first kill in a horror movie and swallowed her petty spite “Any chance you know how to get out of here?”

#c: monroe #ft. silvana #lmk if you want or need any edits!#* can i sit down i’ve been hustling all day * (conversations)#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Closed starter for @izaakwalker

Location: New York Prison

Monroe settled onto the cafeteria table to wait, watching as other visitors did the same. It was always a curious thing, watching how other people handled the discomfort of trying to support a loved one, and continue to live their lives while some else spent their days locked away. She wouldn’t say she had visitation down to a science, but she did have a routine. When Izaak was finally lead into the room she offered him a wide smile and a quick hug as greeting, the limited allowed physical contact, before sitting back down. “I have 20$ in coins for the vending machine so just let me know what you want.” The coins were already on the table in a clear bag, beside a few folded papers with printed lists on them.

Monroe hadn’t spent extensive time with Izaak, in fact she probably spent more time at protests and community events with him then she did in her limited connection to The Brotherhood since she was only technically an associate. And as such she didn’t really know how to go about talking to him as the incarcerated leader of what one of New York’s most notorious gangs. So instead she decided to focus on him simply as another activist for a minute, as the person locked away and charged brashly into conversation.

“I have a list of the approved magazines to get you set up with subscriptions, as well as a reading list I thought you might enjoy of books organized by genre. I made sure money was deposited in your commissary fund last night, so it should be available today and… oh I included some pictures in the letter I sent this morning before I got here. Mostly shots of the community garden and park, but a few of friends as well.” She cut herself off as she realized she wasn’t giving Izaak any opportunity to speak and grimaced apologetically. “Sorry, I overcompensate and I’m used to visiting other low level activists not… community leaders.” She finished lamely, hating the inability to speak plainly.

#c: monroe #ft. Izaak #* called to the devil and the devil said hey * (the brotherhood)#* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#lmk if you want their dynamic to be different/closer #for now she’s just baralling ahead

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Closed starter for @jonah-jones

Location: Medical Examiner’s office

Monroe didn’t often work with Jonah, she did her best to keep her patients alive, and most that she did lose didn’t gerner the need of a medical examiner. Cause of death was typically pretty apparent, and her clientele didn't earn the attention of anyone willing to take the time to look further into their lives. When one of her patents was dragged in by 5-0 in handcuffs however that was different, it came along with a mountain of paperwork and a trip to Jonah’s office.

She stopped by a cafe on the way, picking up an extra coffee for Jonah and a few different pastries. It might be strange to bring snacks to a medical examiner’s office, but she liked to buy treats for her friends. Knocking on the door to his office she held up the drink carrier and box of pastries. “Hey Jonah, I’m here for the paperwork for Darin Oliver. I come bearing coffee and treats”

#c: monroe #ft. Jonah #* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)#* called to the devil and the devil said hey * (the brotherhood)#* can i sit down i’ve been hustling all day * (conversations)

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Closed starter for @miloritter

Location: the Delacorte Theatre

Monroe brought Karou and Sarai with her to the theatre. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, or maybe she could she just didn’t want to, but she felt more comfortable with them by her sides when she went out. They were fully trained as service dogs, she had just never intended for them to assist her, but they knew the commands to make space around her in a crowd and alert her if she was being followed. She got there early, in case there was an issue bringing the dogs in, but the ushers were surprisingly pleasant and she got in without a problem.

She staked out a good spot for her blanket and set up to wait for Milo. She dug into the bottom of her bag and pulled out the simple black burner phone he had given her. Sighing she typed out two simple messages.

[text] Happy?

[text] Have a spot on the grass, look for the girls.

Sliding it back into its place she resolved herself to wait patiently for him to arrive, people watching as the theatre started to fill.

#c: monroe #ft. Milo #wb.event #let them be happy #at least one night of calm #* can i sit down i’ve been hustling all day * (conversations)#* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)#* called to the devil and the devil said hey * (the brotherhood)#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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✨ (because i must) - what is monroe's favorite memory from hs with celeste?

Monroe doesn’t have a *favorite* memory, because she cherishes them all. So here is a handful of head cannons from their first Pride together in celebration of pride month.

1. Monroe and Celeste doing each others makeup and painting the bi flag on their cheeks Ala Rue and Jules.

2. Monroe hauling Celeste up onto her shoulders so she can see above the crowd and catch candy and beads and everything.

3. Breaking off from the parade and festivities for a quiet moment and getting an ice cream cone to share, racing to eat it all before it melts down their hands from the heat but also trying not to get a brain freeze.

4. Buying flags and cute matching pins and earrings and fun little pride merch things together.

5. Monroe and Celeste dancing their hearts out to all the music, Monroe a bit uncoordinated but with some solid moves, Celeste being the absolute gorgeous talented dancer that she is getting noticed by a float of drag queens and ecstatic gays and invited to jump up and join them and Monroe being the enthusiastic and supportive girlfriend shoving her to get up there and dance!

6. Getting invited to a lesbian bar and experiencing a completely queer environment for the first time and feeling totally comfortable and confident showing affection and being themselves.

7. Staying to watch a pride burlesque show and Monroe blushing horribly the whole time trying to hide behind her drink.

8. Monroe giving Celeste a piggyback to the subway home

9. Climbing up the fire escape of Celeste’s building and sitting out listening to the sounds of celebration, holding hands and sharing kisses and whispering sweet nothings to eachother.

10. Monroe telling Celeste she loves her, probably not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, and feeling safe and at home in their little bubble on the fire escape.

#c: monroe #ft. celeste #* that’s the story to tell * (headcannons)#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#content warning super soft sapphic time #I love baby Lennox and Celeste #I could write headcannons about them for hours #<3 <3 <3

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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closed starter for @abelrousseau Location: The Delecarte Theatre, the Library

Monroe brought snacks and drinks to the show, but was early enough that she figured she had time for a drink or two at The Library. She left Karou and Sarai with the blanket and asked the usher to keep on eye on them, not that they needed it. She had just sat down to order desert and a whiskey cocktail when she realized she recognized the figure beside her at the bar. “Wow, I didn’t realize our DA was a theatre fan, I definitely think you would poll better if you adverstized that more.” Her voice is cheerful, at least attempting to convey comraderie. She offered her name as well, in case he didn’t recognize her. “ Lennox Monroe, I’m a friend of Rahi’s? Is he with you, or are you alone?”

#c: monroe #ft. abel #* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)#* can I sit down I’ve been hustling all day * (conversations)#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#wb.event

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Closed starter for @andreagalan

Location: The Cancún

Monroe had initially intended on stopping by Jorge’s restaurant to talk to him directly, but she had forgotten it was closed tonight and so instead she found herself stepping into the Cancún. She took a look around, trying to spot the man in the crowd, slipping onto a stool at the bar where she could observe. She had been desperately trying to figure out what she was going to say to him the entire way over. She hadn’t meant to make a habit of stitching up someone who she would later learn was a member of the Cortázar cartel. It was months after she found herself with a semi regular appointment sipping on Cholado while she checked how her favorite Colombian restauranteur was healing that she had learned of the man’s affiliation. But with everything that had happened recently, Izaak’s arrest, Milo’s theories, and her decision to solidify her relationship with The Brotherhood, she could no longer justify stitching up an enemy under the excuse of ‘do no harm’.

After an hour of scanning the crowd she decided to give up and find Jorge another night. Standing up she turned to the exit but hadn’t made it two steps before she found herself face to face with the woman in charge. “Andrea…” she paused, scrambling, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as she began to realize how bad of a spot she may have put herself in. “I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry. I was just looking for Jorge I don’t mean any trouble, promise.”

#c: monroe #ft. andrea #* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)#* can i sit down i’ve been hustling all day * (conversations)#maybe walking into enemy territory isn’t a good idea???#lmk if edits are needed

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Closed starter for @ludomalatesta

Location: One of Lonnie’s boxing matches

Monroe hadn’t been able to make it to one of Lonnie’s boxing matches in over a month. Between an upswing in hospital shifts, the protests and constantly being on call in case someone from The Brotherhood was injured she just hadn’t been able to prioritize seeing one of his fights. She felt guilty, having only missed one of Milo’s fights in the past weeks. But she justified that by the fact that it was easier to patch him up immediately after he was hurt, and Lonnie had a team to make sure he was healthy and unhurt. She didn’t voice it often but she loved watching Lonnie box, loved how visceral the experience was. In another life she liked to think she would have ended up in a fighting ring of some kind, instead of waiting outside to wipe away the bloody aftermath.

She made her way to Lonnie’s reserved seats, waving a greeting to his manager and the other familiar employees as she went. She was a little surprised when she saw another woman already in the section, but remembered a conversation from weeks back and quickly put two and two together. She quickly wracked her brain for the name she knew went to the semi familiar face as she slowed her approach, buying a few moments of time before the interaction.

“Hey Ludovica, good to see you!” She greeted the other woman warmly, setting down her jacket and drink in the next seat. “Are you excited for the fight? It’s a pretty tight match from what I’ve read so it should be a fun one” she couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice, she was ready for some adrenaline and excitement that wasn’t attached to any actual danger.

#c: monroe #ft. ludo #* thought to give friends what i thought they wanted * (closed starter)#* can i sit down i’ve been hustling all day * (conversations)#* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#lmk know if edits are needed #sorry Lonnie for the ringside drama that I’m sure is about to ensure

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dr-monroe · 2 years

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Monroe is at the protest, of course she is. Her presence at protests, contributions to mutual aid projects and community action were some of the things that brought her into the eyes of the Brotherhood, that and stitching Milo up and staying in Darling’s shelter, but she had always been there for the community. It made sense that she would be there when it all changed.

She always wore white to a protest. It was a decision made early on when she started acting as a field medic, the fact that it bore striking similarity to a spec ops uniform complete with tinted face shield for maximum anonymity was a point of contention. But it kept her safe and she really couldn’t argue against that. As Milo put it the safer she was the better we was able to help everyone else. It did make her easily identifiable to those who needed help, and the Red Cross on her helmet, back and backpack occasionally kept pd from targeting her, at least those who pretended to have any kind of honor. The white had a secondary purpose, and while she hated that it was a tactic, she had to admit it was one that worked. Photos of a blood soaked medic tending to injuries on unarmed civilians practicing their 1st amendment right in front of a wall of pigs in full military riot gear got results. It garnered sympathy and proved the point the protests were trying to make, that the police force was not there to protect and serve but acting as an occupying army.

Monroe spent the morning checking on other medics, handing out radios, making sure rest points were well stocked and everyone was working smart. She gave out little emergency packs to anyone who would take them, repeating the quick advice she had perfected after so many events. If you get pepper sprayed don’t close your eyes, if it’s tear gas don’t touch your face, if you see a penetrative wound with the object still lodged don’t pull it out, call for a medic, stay hydrated, look out for each other. It was hot, uncomfortably so, and she sent a text to a bodega she knew was along the route asking if they had any palettes of water in the back she could buy to set out for anyone who needed it. With the heat it was a game of staying covered up enough to stay safe, and unidentifiable, and not sweltering in your own skin and getting heatstroke.

She moved through the crowd as they walked, always staying towards the center of the street but moving forward and back enough that those walking knew she is there and she could keep an eye on the general health of the crowd. She caught sight of Izaak a few times, he wasn’t hard to miss, and fought to suppress a laugh at his rhymes. They’re good, effective, but she knew how much he must have struggled to pen them. It’s a moment of joy before everything falls apart.

The moment she sees the wall of riot shields come around a corner she signals out that police are on scene with 3 clicks on the radio channel she knew all the medics were tuned to. She told everyone near her to put on goggles, masks, whatever they had to protect themselves and started uncapping the spray bottles she used to flush teargas.

Then the screams started and she was in action, she surged forward and got to work as others fell back. She saw the smoke of tear gas roll in, and saw a woman fall when a canister collided with her shoulder. She was holding pressure on the wound when she heard Izaak roar in fury. Her eyes snapped up in time to see the rubber bullets collide with the leader of The Brotherhood’s body. She grabbed a stranger beside her and forced them to apply pressure to the injured woman, radioing for another medic as she ran to get to her friend. But she wasn’t fast enough, and before she got to him he was under a pile of uniforms. It went against every fiber of her body to stand down, to not rush to him and fight as she saw him hauled up bruised and bleeding and dragged to a police car. She knew he wouldn’t get medical attention, not for hours, but she also knew if she rushed a cop she would be arrested too Red Cross on her back or not. So instead she forced herself to stay back, melt into the crowd and watch the scene unfold helpless in that moment. She waited until he was in the car with the door slammed shut behind him before she took out the burner flip phone she kept tucked inside her vest and sent out a short burst of texts in a cypher she knew only Milo could read.

“Izaak’s been arrested.

He needs immediate medical attention.

Get lawyers to the presenct now, we need to beat him there.“

She hit send and then turned back into the crowd and got back to work.

#c: monroe #self para #Monroe goes to a protest and it goes terribly #* too busy saving everybody else to save yourself * (monroe)#* called to the devil and the devil said hey * (the brotherhood)#* it's like 2 a.m. and the bars all close at 10 in hell that's a rule i made * (musing)

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