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femslashficlets2019-01-25 10:05 pm
ilthit) wrote in femslashficlets2019-01-25 10:05 pm
Janelle Monáe lyrics: Sneakers (Ghostbusters 2016)
Title: Sneakers
Fandom: Ghostbusters (2016)
Characters/Pairings: Erin Gilbert/Abby Yates
Rating: PG
Words: 535
Content notes: Queer used as a slur. Bullying.
Prompt: We’ll make a million memories, all incredible
-
Calculations whizzed through Erin’s head. She’d like to have them laid out in her notebook to be sure, but at least in her mind’s neatly organized grid they seemed to hold up. She barely looked at where she was going as she clutched her schoolbag and slugged towards school. A notebook and Abby, that’s what she needed. That’s what kept her going.
Someone pushed her from behind. “Hey! I said watch your step, queer.” Erin stumbed, regained her feet and hurried on faster, chased by laughter. At least her sneakers were good for running. Maybe someday she could have shoes that didn’t have to be good for running.
“I saw,” said Abby when they found each other in the press of bodies at the doors. “Bastards. That Jenny Kildare skank thinks Jupiter is a star. Your worth ten of her. Did you think about what we talked about last time?”
Erin found her voice with some effort; her smile had already returned. “Yeah. Abby, I think you were right. The math works out.”
Abby squealed and hugged her. “Let’s cut class and go hang out in the library.”
“I have Chemistry.”
“I thought it was English.”
“No, that’s Tuesdays.”
“Drat. Okay, meet me at lunch. And bring a notebook!”
Lunch was a sandwich scarfed down in a quiet nook of the library, hidden behind bookshelves so Mrs Kent wouldn’t see. “The difficult thing to prove is consciousness survival,” Erin whispered. “We need to prove a mind is not just chemicals and electricity.”
“Or that the processes of a mind can and are recreated on the level of atomic interactions outside of the known chemical processes of carbon-based life.”
Erin leaned her chin in her hand and tapped her notebook with a pencil. “I think we’ve proven the can, but not the do.”
“For that, we need money. And equipment.”
Erin threw her pen down and sat back in a sulk. “You need to be a grown-up to have all that.”
Abby reached over and clasped Erin’s hand in her own. “Honey, we’re gonna grow up. We’re gonna get there. And one day, we’ll be the scientists to prove the do. I guarantee it.”
Erin looked down at their joined hands, feeling the warmth of pleasure creep up from her neck to her cheeks. “You can’t guarantee--”
“I absolutely can and I do. We’re brilliant, and we’re right. That’s all you need.”
“I--” Her mouth wanted to say something but her throat closed upon it. She gazed helplessly up at Abby’s shining eyes, her plump pretty beloved face, and the shiver in her heart lit up her chest, tingled all the way down her legs. Abby grinned.
Watch your step, queer.
The feeling got sucked down into some deep dark hole and a heavy lid stamped down upon it. Erin coughed, chugged her orange juice, and closed the notebook. “I, um… I’ll write these out after class. I gotta go. I’ll be late.”
“Wait, Erin! We still have ten minutes.”
“I don’t want to miss this one.” She stuffed the notebook and pencil in her bag and stood to go.
“What is it?”
“Um. English.”
She ran away, her sneakers squeaking on the tiling.
Fandom: Ghostbusters (2016)
Characters/Pairings: Erin Gilbert/Abby Yates
Rating: PG
Words: 535
Content notes: Queer used as a slur. Bullying.
Prompt: We’ll make a million memories, all incredible
-
Calculations whizzed through Erin’s head. She’d like to have them laid out in her notebook to be sure, but at least in her mind’s neatly organized grid they seemed to hold up. She barely looked at where she was going as she clutched her schoolbag and slugged towards school. A notebook and Abby, that’s what she needed. That’s what kept her going.
Someone pushed her from behind. “Hey! I said watch your step, queer.” Erin stumbed, regained her feet and hurried on faster, chased by laughter. At least her sneakers were good for running. Maybe someday she could have shoes that didn’t have to be good for running.
“I saw,” said Abby when they found each other in the press of bodies at the doors. “Bastards. That Jenny Kildare skank thinks Jupiter is a star. Your worth ten of her. Did you think about what we talked about last time?”
Erin found her voice with some effort; her smile had already returned. “Yeah. Abby, I think you were right. The math works out.”
Abby squealed and hugged her. “Let’s cut class and go hang out in the library.”
“I have Chemistry.”
“I thought it was English.”
“No, that’s Tuesdays.”
“Drat. Okay, meet me at lunch. And bring a notebook!”
Lunch was a sandwich scarfed down in a quiet nook of the library, hidden behind bookshelves so Mrs Kent wouldn’t see. “The difficult thing to prove is consciousness survival,” Erin whispered. “We need to prove a mind is not just chemicals and electricity.”
“Or that the processes of a mind can and are recreated on the level of atomic interactions outside of the known chemical processes of carbon-based life.”
Erin leaned her chin in her hand and tapped her notebook with a pencil. “I think we’ve proven the can, but not the do.”
“For that, we need money. And equipment.”
Erin threw her pen down and sat back in a sulk. “You need to be a grown-up to have all that.”
Abby reached over and clasped Erin’s hand in her own. “Honey, we’re gonna grow up. We’re gonna get there. And one day, we’ll be the scientists to prove the do. I guarantee it.”
Erin looked down at their joined hands, feeling the warmth of pleasure creep up from her neck to her cheeks. “You can’t guarantee--”
“I absolutely can and I do. We’re brilliant, and we’re right. That’s all you need.”
“I--” Her mouth wanted to say something but her throat closed upon it. She gazed helplessly up at Abby’s shining eyes, her plump pretty beloved face, and the shiver in her heart lit up her chest, tingled all the way down her legs. Abby grinned.
Watch your step, queer.
The feeling got sucked down into some deep dark hole and a heavy lid stamped down upon it. Erin coughed, chugged her orange juice, and closed the notebook. “I, um… I’ll write these out after class. I gotta go. I’ll be late.”
“Wait, Erin! We still have ten minutes.”
“I don’t want to miss this one.” She stuffed the notebook and pencil in her bag and stood to go.
“What is it?”
“Um. English.”
She ran away, her sneakers squeaking on the tiling.
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