#. vicki graves

[mercurygray]

I LOVE A CHALLENGE!! And I'm so proud of you for going out on a limb like that - that's totally what Blind Dates should be about, trying something new.

We get such a good sense of place in this introduction - and we learn so much about Vicki from the back and forth here that it never seems info-dumpy. That she wants to be a photographer, that she's happier sitting and watching the fun rather than trying to be in the middle. "Well, the guilt’s just eatin’ me alive over here, y’know" made me laugh - it's such a Hoosier thing to say.

BLIND DATES OC FEST 2023

something for @mercurygray ’s OC Fest, which I … conveniently remembered after restarting The Pacific. So we went with a triple whammy challenge for myself here — new OC, new “canon” character, and a different side of the war. Went into a name generator, got “Vicki Graves” and … now we’re here. Melbourne antics featuring a bar, macarons, a birthday, a selective risk-taker, and Poet’s very first attempts at writing Hoosier. Have a neat little moodboard for my girl, and then the writing is below the cut :) we’re also just short of 2k words I am so normal about her. this also took on a bit of a “Before Sunrise” feel that I’m not ??? mad about ??? anyways moving on—

It was a great camera all things considered.

The latest model — it came with a case and film in a green gift box, sitting pretty on her desk at the office that morning, with a note that read “Happy Birthday Vee ~ Lois” in bubble letters. She was promptly ambushed when she sat down — with balloons and a coffee and a bagel with jam from that bakery down the street. They crowded around her when she opened the box with the camera and the film, Lois at the front with that prideful grin and her hands on her hips.

It was a good morning. Not a bad birthday.

The music was loud, a song being carried by a marine’s not-quite-sober vibrato. He whisked Margie away with that inebriated tenor of his, his friend joined in and he had an arm around her waist as he continued to croon. The music drowned out the shutter of her camera, and the lighting wasn’t terrible either, so Vicki remained seated and observing, peering through her viewfinder and snapping a photo with a click.

She took one earlier, of Lois and the marine she’d been dancing with for the better half of the night. Lew, that’s what he said his name was, tall and broad-shouldered with a smile like trouble. But Lois looked too good in her shirtwaist dress to pass up. The camera wouldn’t capture it, but the warm yellow of it brought out the shininess of her hair, the glow to her summer-tanned skin. Vicki would give it to her tomorrow.

Years from now, she could try to imagine the yellow, and if warranted, the marine holding her too.

No dancing or trouble-making marines for her; she was reserving her courage to spend on calling her mother later, maybe, if it proved to be enough to give her that extra oomf.

Christ, Vick, she could hear Lois scolding her, clear as day. Y’wanna go take pictures of war zones but you can’t even call your own mom?

Well, she’d reply, in war zones they might not ask me if I found a boy to bring home yet. They’d just let me take the damn pictures.

And maybe it was the summer heat making the bar turn stuffy — or maybe the prospect of boyfriends and aspirations and disappointing phone conversations with mother dearest were enough to flush her face and leave her unreasonably flustered. Whatever it was, she didn’t like how Margie, all tangled up in the singing marine, would glance her way and grin, like she was concocting.

And there were far too many people around for concoctions.

Vicki rose, slipping through the excitability and alcohol-induced merriment towards the front door. She wouldn’t leave. Well, maybe she wouldn’t leave, but it was hot and stuffy and she needed air that wasn’t coupled with the hazy scent of cigarettes.

She stepped out into the cool summer night and let out a hefty sigh, the night air cooling the flush to her cheeks almost instantaneously. She could walk home — it was fifteen minutes to her apartment. The sidewalks were busy though, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to take the risk with so many strangers out and about.

She was still rotating her options when the door opened and shut again. She looked to her left.

Vicki recognized him, vaguely (as in: he’d come in with Lew and they’d approached the table, and she’d noticed the blue to his eyes, the pout to his lips, and the swagger of his walk, and even though he didn’t ask her to dance she almost wished he did).

“He ain’t givin’ her back.” He broke the silence first, his lip curling into a grin. He and Lew had a similar twang to their voices. She followed his eyes as they looked back through the window, to Lois and Lew and their goofy grins.

“First you take my cricket field, now you take my ride home,” she lamented melodramatically, letting herself put her full weight on the window. “Greedy little bunch, you Yanks.” He chuckled, looking down to pull out a cigarette and light it.

“Apologies, ma’am, if it makes up for it I’ve got good word that uh… Bud and your friend there were gettin’ ready to serenade the birthday girl ‘till she slipped away.”

“And is that good word coming from the one meant to reel her back in?” He smiled at her rhetoric, giving a lazy sort of shrug.

“It could be.”

“And does the retriever have a name or should I keep calling him Marine?” She watched as the end of his cigarette burned orange, before smoke slipped from his lips.

“I’ve also got good word it might be Bill. Smith. You wouldn’t happen to know the name of lady he’s looking for, would you?” She couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking her head slightly as the way his grin seemed to grow. She could appreciate a good showman, at the very least. Still, she hesitated for a moment.

That undeniable sort of apprehension creeped in on her. After packing up and fleeing the nest much to her mother’s dismay — she’d had a fill of… of risk-taking. And if she’d learned anything from that, risk meant fall-out and marines, it seemed, were an inherently risky bunch.

And, unfortunately, not risk in the way of action shots and front-page news, at least not on this side of the ocean.

But she could hear Margie and Lois and the girls at the office all egging her on, even if one was currently being serenaded and the other was dancing and the last of the list likely scattered to the winds with husbands and boyfriends and whomever they chose to spend their Friday nights with.

“It’s Vicki.” A pause, she stared at the cigarette before looking back at him.

“Well then sorry for forgettin’ a present, Vicki.” He put out the cigarettes on the brick, letting the butt fall with that grin still playing on his lips. Like a kid poking a bear. Or rather, a kid poking a sedated bear, maybe.

She bit the bullet.

“Could always make it up to me. Since your friend stole my escort and I’m not going back in there with this newfound information.” That caught his attention, he raised a brow.

“Well the guilt’s just eatin’ me alive over here, y’know.” She snorted again and rolled her eyes.

“There’s a bakery, fifteen minutes from here. Got good coffee too. Buy me a coffee and all’s forgiven,” She pushed herself from the wall at that point, looking at him expectantly and without skipping a beat Bill did the same, offering her arm. “Wouldja look at that? Marine’s got manners. You might be winning me over.” She didn’t miss the way his grin grew impossibly wider, like she’d just given him a gold star, or the way he rolled his eyes at the remark. She took his arm, and started a half-walk half-drag down the streets.

Bill was funny — and observant. He’d lean down, mutter something in her ear and vaguely gesture to indicate where to look and she’d end up snickering and swatting his arm. It seemed that he could find some quick-witted remark in everything they saw. Vicki could offer him tidbits: where to get a good meal, the shortcuts to cut through, which bars the RACMPs liked to frequent on their days off.

She saw a lot through her viewfinder. What good was seeing things if she couldn’t share them? Even if her note resulted in him telling a story about a handful of marines getting into a brawl at a bar.

“But not you, right? Such a fine upstanding marine wouldn’t dream of it.” And he ran his hand across his own cheek in a caress, turning this way and that to show off the lack of bruises or other signs of a fight.

“Never me. Wouldn’t dream of it.” In a way that was so drawn-out and dry that she knew he meant quite the opposite, and she could appreciate his roundabout honesty.

“Lois was doing a touristy article on small businesses on this side of the city. Needed me to come take pictures of the place, the owner and all that.” She explained as he opened the glass door for her, and they stepped inside. Then Vicki turned, made a sweeping gesture for him to step towards the counter. “Tell them Vicki’s regular. Feel free to get yourself something too.” She gave him a wink at his playfully drawn out ‘yes ma’am’ — and made her own way to the display case to peruse.

“Quite the present you’re unwrappin’ there, Vee,” she looked up at one of the cashiers, Bette, who was eyeing Bill up and down as he spoke to the other man on shift like he was a steak dinner. “Who knew you had it in ya? Think I can get a turn next?” Vicki rolled her eyes, choosing not to entertain her antics this time around. “The usual, I take it?”

“And a slice of that chocolate cake, too.”

“Oh she’s really feeling adventurous,” Bette giggled as she started to pack away a dozen macarons in a pretty pink box, and then a large cake slice in another. Vicki immediately went to fish for her wallet, but the blond held up her hand. “On the house. Happy Birthday, never say I didn’t do anything for ya, and if you don’t take him upstairs it’s double next time.”

“I miss when you were smaller and too shy to speak to me.” Vicki lamented with a faux sigh, and Bette giggled.

“And I miss when you lived a little more.” Vicki took the two boxes, found her usual table by the window and sat down. Shortly after Bill came back, with two cups and she gestured to the seat across from her.

“All is forgiven then?” He asked with a grin, before noticing the bigger box in between them. “D'aww you shouldn’t have.”

“Sit and entertain me for a while then yeah, all is forgiven.” She gave him a more contained smile, taking her own coffee cup and eyeing it for a moment before cracking open the box of macarons and plucking one of the pistachio ones from the box to pop into her mouth. She watched as he reached for the chocolate one, wordless for a moment as he ate it with a boyish grin.

She wondered what the fallout of this would be — four years she’d lived in Melbourne, with this private tradition of eating and people watching once a year after the girls brought her out for celebrations. Why she decided to break this tradition with a marine she knew so little about, she had no explanation for. Maybe it was just a way to avoid calling her mother. A temporary distraction.

Bill looked out the window, pointed at another man in dress uniform stumbling around, and his shoulders shook in suppressed laughter at the sight . It was enough to make her snicker a little.

A damn good distraction, if any.

It was his turn to ask the questions now, coupled with wise-crack remarks and the occasional grin that oozed ‘you know you wanna laugh.’ Sometimes, she’d roll her eyes in spite of the corner of her lip twitching, or hide the grin behind her coffee cup.

“Anyone tell you you’ve got a smart mouth, Bill Smith?”

“You and the entire first marines, Vicki No-Last-Name.”

“Well then that just means it holds merit, now doesn’t it?” She watched as he went to grab another macaron from the box, and she found herself reaching for the camera around her neck.

If they let her go overseas, take pictures of the war unfolding, there probably wouldn’t be many shots like this. Of men in states of content in their dress uniforms, with pretty coffee cups and clean faces and troublemaking grins. But she still wanted to see it, to get a photo that would end up on the front page of The Age and show everyone what it was like out there. If the editor was willing to take a chance on her and feed into it a little bit.

In for a Penny, she tried to rationalize, and she didn’t hesitate to snap the photo as Bill eyed her in a moment of confusion.

“What’s that for?” He asked, raising a brow. Vicki shrugged simply.

“Me. What good’s a birthday if I’ve got nothing to remember it,” she sipped her coffee, and with another contained smile, she added, “And it’s… Graves. Vicki Graves.”

[a-victorian-girl]

The Work.

[tortoisesshells]

85 + 462

[shoshimakesstuff]

OC Moodboards ➵ @latibvles' Vicki Graves

[lazarusweptt]

" you know ,

i don't have the best luck

in the girlfriend department.... "

ft: @ofchaoticminds & @ofuntamedhearts

[widowshill]

NO WAY LAURA MURDOCH RADCLIFF GRAVE

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."

It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.

Or so Steve had thought.

Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.

Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.

Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.

Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."

Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?

Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.

The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.

"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.

"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.

Months pass and Steve goes every week.

"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."

"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."

"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."

So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.

Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.

"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."

So it goes.

"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"

"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."

"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.

Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.

Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.

As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.

"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."

Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

And then, a miracle happens.

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."

[will80sbyers]

ST5 possible timeline

Let's see what I remember that's actually confirmed from pictures and other stuff

Ep. 1 (100% confirmed) :

We know that Will has a nightmare/flashback of the UD

Linda Hamilton has some scenes

Steve and Jonathan do whatever they are doing in the pre-vis with that thing that becomes green instead of red

Steve and robin are together inside the radio station eating snacks (?) from the pic. Ross posted of day 1

Robin, Will, El, Nancy and Joyce are in a scene together

Ep.2 (100% confirmed) :

We know for sure Karen is in the episode and probably at the Hawkins Memorial Hospital

Lights at the hospital flicker like the Demogorgon is there or vecna etc

Either ep. 1 , ep. 2 or ep. 3...

but in the same time frame:

Morning:

Mike is at his house in his room thinking about something

Dustin and Mike get in a fight at school with the jocks friends of Jason - Dustin's shirt gets ripped

Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Murray are taking stuff from the supermarket and they steal a truck with food in it

Steve and Jonathan (?) make the antenna on Steve's car

Someone is studying radio stuff at school (?)

Evening:

Dustin goes to Eddie's grave to talk to him after this because he has the shirt like that

Mike goes to El to talk on the roof of the radio station

Something with action happens, they get attacked, Joyce and Hopper are both at the radio station and probably Will is there too

El is fighting with somebody and the tie she has breaks - she has the same outfit on from the radio station

Robin goes to the Hawkins memorial hospital and Vickie is there too

Night:

Unless it's a vision - Will is at the radio station under the antenna at night ( he's probably the one that gets attacked because he's on the tower opposite from where Mike and El are sitting and talking...)

El is near the UD vines with the same outfit and blood on her nose... Maybe she's in the upside down but I'm not sure because the vines could be invading Hawkins

Not clear yet to me in which episodes these things happen but probably all either before ep. 4 or in ep.4 :

Vecna vision or nightmare of Will at school in the field with the bike

Possible vision: someone is in the woods with the red light and near Castle Byers with the vines all around

Little Will & grown up Will are inside Castle Byers in the upside down, probably a flashback or vision/nightmare

Someone in the woods gets attacked by someone with powers and gets thrown into the air

Nancy is inside the bunker at the radio station dressed how she's dressed when she's with the others taking the food from the truck

Hopper and others are at the old dumpster probably to train and learn how to fight

Someone gets hurt at a leg when they are inside the Hawkins memorial hospital

Karen takes a bubble bath and drinks wine (ep. 1 ?)

Something is being filmed at the Wheeler's house

Will looks cool with his jacket and haircut, he's inside the radio station and Jonathan is there too... Jonathan seems dressed like he was dressed when he was at the radio station with Murray, Nancy and Robin and Steve near the truck of the supermarket so this could be in the first episodes ? Will is dressed with his green shirt and the undershirt so differently from when he's at the mansion and also from when he's at the farm (in which he has the same shirt with the stripes-> ep. 4 prob)

Mike, Will, Lucas and Dustin are at the farm and do the hand group thing

Robin, Will and Mike are at a farm together (the farm scenes are probably ep. 3 or 4)

El and Will (same stripes outfit from the radio station tower and the farm without the jacket) are at the mansion with the pool, Will looks sick and El has a scene screaming

Joyce and Hopper arrive with the blue van and maybe they make a pole in the street fall down by speeding with the car

Police or government are involved in the mansion scenes

Jonathan and Nancy are there at the mansion too, Steve's car is there with the antenna so maybe they drive it there (?)

Lucas is with Max at the hospital and makes her listen to music (?)

Will and Robin have some type of interaction, both of them and Mike are at the farm in ep.4 and a child named Derek (?) is there too

Karen gets badly hurt and goes to the hospital

Mike gets hurt but not seriously and Will goes to the hospital

Holly gets kidnapped by Vecna

Mike has scenes with Ted Wheeler

Either ep. 2, 3 or 5 (not clear to me but I've been told they were filming those but also idk for sure)

The characters are attacked by something at the radio station, there's an action scene where Will (or someone else) screams to Steve (or someone else) to RUN !!!

Mike and Robin help some children in the tunnels (?)

Henry and Holly are in the mindscape together at his house living in a fantasy where also other children are involved and they have scenes inside the house and in the park in front of it

There's a scene of Steve's car driving in the Upside down near a cemetery

Scenes at the white church that's probably in the upside down because it has the vines

Notes: The mansion seems to be a simple house of rich people

Ep. 4 (100% confirmed) :

Dustin, Nancy, Jonathan and Someone else we don't know fall in the Upside Down from the farm with a car that has the antenna in the middle

Mansion = orange

Farm = green

Probably the same episode because of the outfit

That's it... I for sure forgot something but I'll add later when I have time to review all the leaks we got!

[flowersandfashion]

what the FUCK

pre raphaelite ginger ladies ♥️🧜🏻‍♀️

[latibvles]

Last Line Tag

Always a delight to be tagged in this, so thank you @almost-a-class-act !! This is from the long-discussed "destination wedding au" that I wrote last week between essays. Vicki and Hoosier are roommates, he brings her as the plus-one to Leslie and Vera's wedding, they're emotionally constipated and stupid etc. etc. Anyways here's 5am preflight VickHoos:

“C’mere. Lean down.” He blinks at her blearily, but complies nonetheless, arching slightly so she could mist his hair and then runs the white foam through it a couple times so it looks a little neater. “Just in case Vera wants pictures in the lobby,” Vicki explains. He grunts again and she chuckles — a soft exhale through her nose. “What are you, a caveman?” “I could be.” He counters, and she rolls her eyes. “Yeah alright caveman, you sure you don’t need help with the bags?” “I’ve got it. You got your camera?” Vicki pauses as he straightens out, and she shakes her head. Hoosier huffs as he slings his bag over his shoulder and brushes past her with a mutterance of ‘Jesus Christ’ that she doesn’t get to protest against. Maybe she felt a little weird about bringing her camera when Vera probably already had a photographer. 

TAGGING: @softguarnere , @softspeirs , @hesbuckcompton-baby , @ktredshoes , @precious-little-scoundrel , with no pressure, and whomever else wants to piggyback off of this :)

[cevansbrat0007]

An Afternoon with Minerva

Summary: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Slight Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death, Cancer, Dead Mothers, Brief Mentions of War, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Somewhere Four Hours Outside of Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Shit!” Ari hisses when he almost slips in the middle of trudging up the muddy hillside. It had been raining pretty much non-stop since he’d made it out of Dallas and it hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down. 

But that hadn’t been enough to stop Ari Levinson – not today anyway. Today he was a man on a mission. And that mission involved a meeting with a very special woman. The very first love of his life, and he’d almost missed it. 

What kind of son forgot about his own Mama’s birthday? Not him. Otherwise he would’ve never heard the end of it from Evelyn and Marcia. 

He knew without having to call them that his sisters had already been by with their families earlier in the day. And the last thing he needed was them throwing a fit over his absence, no matter how justifiable it might’ve been. 

The Bounty Hunter nearly stumbles again as he weaves his way through the numerous memorials and monuments. He tries to move carefully, doing his best not to disturb the tributes dedicated to others’ loved ones who’d all gone too soon, regardless of how much time they’d spent on this earth.

And his sweet Mama was no exception. She’d left him just shy of his 21st birthday. He’d been by her side, holding her hand as she took her last breaths. Which seemed only fitting since she’d been there holding him on the day he’d taken his first. 

Cancer had done his Mama dirty. But while it had robbed her almost everything – her hair, her ability to walk, and ultimately her life – her fighting spirit had remained. Minerva “Minnie” Levinson had gone out swinging, leaving him behind to see after his two younger siblings. 

A sixteen-year-old Evie had been so angry back then. So small, but so unbelievably pissed at the world. Meanwhile, sweet baby Marcie had clung to him so tight he’d damn near had a fight on his hands whenever he wanted to take a piss by himself for longer than two minutes. That ten-year-old might as well have been his second shadow. 

He’d honestly had no idea just how much he missed her following behind him until he’d been deployed overseas during his first tour. But they'd needed the money and the benefits. And he’d needed an enemy – someone or something that could help him channel all of the rage and anger and hurt that had been simmering beneath the surface. 

So he’d left them behind to help fight another man’s war. But not before entrusting his sisters’ care to his friend, Vicky Gunther. And at the time, the fact that she’d also been his highschool sweetheart had felt like an added bonus.

It hadn’t necessarily mattered that his mother had never been too crazy about the woman. But what had mattered was that the girls had someone he knew to look after them while he was out risking his life.

Ari’s grip tightens on the flowers in his hand as he finally finds himself nearing his Mama’s grave. Evie and Marcie had picked it out, all he’d done was sign off on the check. They’d assured him that it was exactly what she would’ve wanted, right down to the quote etched into the granite, which read: “Always keep them guessing.”

That had been Minnie Levinson’s favorite phrase whenever they pulled up in a new town. When you’d grown up being on the run, staying one step ahead of your opponent was an absolute must. Especially when that opponent happened to be your own damned father. Growing up the son of Rex Levinson meant always having to look over your shoulder.

Because you never knew where he might be lurking. He could be states away or, more likely, right around the goddamned corner. Waiting to strike when his poor, terror-stricken family least expected it.

So they’d had to learn to always expect it. Even now, the only reason Ari felt any peace was because his Daddy was currently enjoying an all-inclusive, taxpayer funded 15 year stay at the James Crabtree Correctional Center in Helena, Oklahoma.

Thankfully, Rex still had a few years left on his tab before society deemed his debt to them finally repaid in full. Once he was released, he’d deal with it then. But right now…

Now it was time to see about his Mama. And this chat that they were about to have was long overdue. 

A smile finds its way to Ari’s lips once he’s finally standing in front of his mother’s memorial. He pauses briefly before crouching down to place the bouquet he’d brought with him next to the offerings left behind by other members of his family. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was happy to see that they’d all brought daylillies, which had been her favorite.

“Hey. Happy birthday, Mama.” Ari whispers, allowing his fingers to brush along the cool granite. “I made it. Just like I told you I would.” His eyes flutter closed as a light breeze blows by, gently ruffling his chestnut locks. 

It was a sign from Minerva herself, letting him know that she was there with him too. Just like she said she would be. And his Mama had never been one to lie to him. Not even in death. 

“I see the girls have already been here. I’m surprised they haven’t blown up my phone.” He stands then, grimacing when his left knee cracks as a result of the movement. It seemed like that old injury only bothered him when it rained. Shit sucked. 

“I’m sure Evie brought by baby Micah for his first visit. He’s cute ain’t he? Little chubby-cheeked shit machine.” Ari chuckles at that, scrubbing a big hand over his heart. “And I’m not being rude. First time we met he had a blowout in his diaper that was so bad we both needed a shower.” 

He laughs harder at the memory of him desperately trying to hand off his incredibly messy nephew to first his own Mama, and then his sister. They’d swerved him so fast, claiming that it was about damned time he learned how to change a diaper. 

He’d been mighty pissed at the time. But even so, he and baby Micah had stomped off to the bathroom, determined to handle the stinky situation like a couple of real men. And when they’d emerged from said bathroom forty-five minutes later, they’d been the ones to have the last laugh.

Okay, not really. Micah’s mother, Evie, had been too busy napping on the couch to notice much of anything, her body buried beneath a sea of half folded laundry. And Marcia was playing Go Fish with their four-year-old niece Isobel. But Ari hadn’t allowed the lack of fanfare to take the wind out of their sails.

He’d just grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and retreated to his sister’s bedroom, intending to teach the kid about the importance of football until they’d both dozed off. And he still had the picture Evelyn had taken of them both that afternoon, fast asleep in the bed. The baby rocking a Dallas Cowboys onesie, and him wearing her lavender bathrobe.  

“They were just jealous, Mama. There I was being a good uncle, bonding with my nephew, and they were playing paparazzi.” That breeze kicks up again, the smell of wet earth filling the air. 

“But I’m sure you already know that. You were there. You saw everything. Those two were picking on me like they always do.” Ari pouts then, jamming his hands into his pockets. “There’s just something not right about those girls. Everytime I’m around ‘em, they pinch and poke and prod. Always asking if I’m seeing someone.” 

“It’s annoying is what it is. Makes me feel like a damn pincushion or somethin’.” The Bounty Hunter grumbles, nudging a tiny weed with his foot. “How am I supposed to tell ‘em anything if I haven’t run it by you first? Especially when it’s…when it’s…” He trails off as he searches for the right word. 

“Real.” He sucks in a breath as his head dips to his chest. “It’s real and it’s right and it’s new. It’s all those things, Mama. And I don’t know what to do with any of it because it’s like I spend half the damn time fightin’ with myself and the other is spent fightin’ her wanting to fly away on me.” 

One hand leaves his pocket to rest on the back of his neck. “And I know what you’re probably thinking, Mama. But that ain’t the issue. This woman, my little Bird…she ain’t Vicky.” He rocks back on his heels, careful not to slip in the rain soaked grass. 

“And I know you didn’t much care for Vicky. I already told you that I made a mistake with that one. I thought I was doing a good thing leaving the girls with her…” A harsh sigh leaves him as a fresh wave of bitterness rises in his throat. But he swallows it down, refusing to let it choke him. 

Because there was more to be said about the woman in his life today. His woman. His sweet Bird.

“Bird is everything I thought Vicky was. But it’s more than that. She’s the best part about that godforsaken Bell’s Creek. And something tells me that she’s wading knee deep into a pile of shit with this fuck, Martin, and these assholes, the Prescotts. It’s all one big mess that I normally would be chompin' at the to get rid of…”

Ari’s head drops again as he prays for another gust of wind, wanting another sign from his Mama to let him know that she was still listening. He doesn’t speak again until he feels it on his skin. This time it’s a loving caress, a gentle reminder that he’s not alone. 

How could he be when he had Minnie Levinson by his side?

“I haven’t had a single nightmare since I met her. I’m not saying I’m fixed or anything…” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “But maybe I’m not quite as broken as I thought I was. At least she sure doesn't seem to think so. She just tells me I am an ass.”

The sound of squirrels playing in a nearby tree is enough to distract him, albeit briefly. Once they settle down he quietly forges on.

“Ma, I swear this girl is really something special.” Ari whistles, running a hand over his beard. “Sweet, funny, absolutely gorgeous – and did I tell you she runs a bookstore? Can’t go and leave that part out now can I?” 

By now the rain has stopped, with the sun finally beginning to emerge from behind the clouds. He welcomes the warmth it brings. His Mama deserved to enjoy a little sunshine on her special day. 

“She – we fight like cats and dogs sometimes - my Bird and I. But that’s not really my fault. I mean I consider myself to be plenty damn agreeable with most things. But my woman…let’s just say I’ve met mules less stubborn than she is. But even so, it’s…it’s like I can’t get enough of her.”

Ari blows out a comforting breath before closing his eyes, his fingers going to the bridge of his nose. “She’s…she’s making me wanna stay. Got me wantin’ to plant roots and build her a house, complete with the white picket fence.”

“I’ve been lost since the moment I laid eyes on her, Mama. And nothing feels right unless I’m with her. When she’s not around it’s like I can’t think – I’m off balance and…” He swallows thickly. “Like even now, I’m here with you and there’s a part of me that is just itchin’ to get back in my truck and haul ass all the way back to Bell's Creek. I mean, I suppose I could’ve brought her with me.” He cocks his head to the side as the thought strikes him. “She would’ve come, but I couldn’t...”

Ari goes back to awkwardly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I couldn’t bring her here because I needed to talk to you about her first. Introduce her properly so that I could tell you myself that I…” He swallows again, fighting the lump in his throat. 

“I love her, Mama.” 

There. He’d gone and said it. Not in his head. But out loud to the air. To the world. To his Mama.

“And that sweet little spitfire makes me work for it every day. I’m telling you right now that she needs a damn keeper. And I need her to keep me…balanced.” 

A grin spreads across his features as he feels the weight he’s been carrying suddenly lift from his shoulders. “I’m gonna introduce her to the girls, okay Ma? I know they’ll love her like I do. But can you do me a favor and tell ‘em to be nice? You know they never do anything I say.”

Ari bends down to let his fingers graze over his mother’s headstone one last time. “And when the time is right, I’ll bring her here to meet you too.” He murmurs, wishing for a moment that they were actually speaking face to face instead of like this. But unfortunately, that couldn't be helped. 

“Until then you rest easy, alright? Because me and the girls are doin’ just fine.” He takes a tentative step backwards. “I love you, Minnie Levinson. And I’ll be back to see you real soon.” Ari turns on his heel, preparing to navigate his way back to his truck. 

Halfway through the maze he pulls out his phone, thumbing through his contacts until he lights upon your name. He taps the entry before holding the device to his ear. The sound of your voice on the other line is enough to ease the subtle ache in his chest. At least for now. But he also knew from experience that it wouldn’t go away until he had you in his arms again. 

Just four measly, lonely hours until Ari Levinson felt whole again. 

END

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[tortoisesshells]

[midsummer-semantics]

under the dancing lights

Small break while I do a million other things but here's *checks calendar* day 16 of @steddieangstyaugust.

Prompt: Halloween

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags: Underage Drinking, Cemeteries, Canon Complaint (question mark???), Ambiguous Ending

divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

He isn’t sure why he’s out here. It’s not like there’s anything left, anything calling him to action. The kids are old enough to trick-or-treat without supervision, Robin is with Vicky at a party he didn’t want to third-wheel to, and everyone else…

The point is, traipsing through Roane County cemetery on Halloween night seemed like a good idea when Steve is three Jack and Coke’s deep and unsure of where he fits into the regular world. He bought a dozen flowers on the way here just before the shop closed for the evening, like he couldn’t risk showing up to the cemetery empty-handed for some reason. 

Barb’s grave is overrun with flowers 365 days a year, three years running. Steve leaves several of the carnations in the bundle he carries at the tombstone, begging forgiveness as he does every few months. He hasn’t told Nancy what he does, even when he’s accompanied her a few times. He simply stays silent, lets Nancy grieve, and returns a few weeks later to replace the dead ones when no one is paying attention.

Next is Bob Newby, whom he didn’t know, but the kids did, so he drops a couple of flowers off out of perfunctory expectation.

Billy is the one of the hardest, his grave near Steve’s dad’s grandparents’ joint plot. He tends to spend a little more time here, aware of how the plot feels under his knees, remembering how Max looked as she lifted in the air under Vecna’s influence. Sometimes, Steve comes just to sit, to stare at Billy’s name and curse his existence, even if it brought him Max. Other times, Steve sits and talks, tells his rival how his step-sister is doing, how Steve learned to plant his feet, how regardless of what a piece of shit he was, no one deserved to deal with the bullshit the Upside Down had to offer. He leaves one flower out of obligation, but he doesn’t linger like he normally would.

He leaves a few at Chrissy’s grave, not just because she died, but because he knew her, even vaguely because she was a cheerleader while he was still on the basketball team. And because Eddie would want him to.

He flips off Jason’s grave as he passes it.

Three years — less than, technically— since the first death. Almost three years since Steve took Jonathan’s nail bat and made it his weapon of choice against the monsters that lurk beneath their feet. 

Over half a year since Max went into a coma that doctors — UD connected or otherwise — or Eleven haven't been able to wake her up from. 

Seven months since Eddie Munson was added to the list of people Steve couldn’t save.

The sun has dipped well past the treeline on the edges of the cemetery by the time he reaches Eddie’s grave. There’s no one else around, thankfully, but Steve knows it’s only a matter of time before some idiot high school kids make their way to the cemetery to get trashed and try to see a ghost or fuck near one of the graves. He should know, he was one of those idiot kids not too long ago.

There’s writing on Eddie’s headstone, scrawling letters spelling out MURDERER in red spray paint. One of the R’s is backward, Steve notes, rolling his eyes, a gesture that makes his vision swim a little. It’s not the worst thing that’s been blasted across the headstone since it was placed, but it’s by far the dumbest. He sets the remaining flowers down at his feet as he crouches to examine the writing closer. It’s dry, but it can’t have been there for more than a few days considering he was just here for Eddie’s birthday and had cleaned the last slur himself. He should have brought a bucket and brush instead of the stupid flowers, but he’s a little wobbly from the alcohol and the idea of going back to his car for any reason other than to go home and pass out alone sounds terrible. He’ll come back tomorrow and clean it, plus whatever gets done to it tonight probably. Maybe he should have brought his nail bat. Camped out next to Eddie’s grave and waited to see who exactly is doing it so he can make sure they know never to do it again.

Steve loses his precarious balance, falling back on his ass in the cold, damp grass with a soft “oof!” The flask in his back pocket digs into one cheek, and he shuffles around until he can extract it, then leans back on one hand while the other holds the cool metal.

“Probably stupid to drink more, but I doubt you’d give me shit about it,” Steve says to the grave, holding the flask up like he’s making a toast before closing his eyes and taking a swig. He actually hates whiskey, but it was all that was in the house since it’s his dad’s favorite, and beggars can’t be choosers.

Still, he coughs a bit as the straight liquor burns a path down his throat — he really should have brought some kind of chaser with him, but hindsight and all that — and then lays back on the grass as soon as it clears.

He keeps his eyes closed, breathing through the slight roil in his stomach, and imagines what it would be like if he simply sank into the ground beneath him. Not like if vines were to spring up and drag him under, but if he just slowly melted into the earth the way one feels like they’re melting on a really plush mattress.

It’s only a slight comfort that the grave he’s lying on is empty. Otherwise, his vision of being swallowed by the earth might come with the extra twist of Eddie’s hands dragging him down Evil Dead-style. 

He snorts to himself, his head lolling back and forth a bit. Eddie would have loved that reference, he knows it. He may not have known him for long before. . . before, but he’s sure of it regardless.

After a moment, he brings his hands up to rub the heels into his eyes, waiting until he sees stars before he opens them. The stars continue to blink for a few seconds as his eyes adjust to the inky black sky.

Wait.

No.

There are stars dancing. Little lights swaying to and fro in front of his face, with more popping up around him. He turns his head in awkward directions against the grass, knowing he’s getting foliage in his hair the whole time, watching as more blink to life.

He shuts his eyes again as he sits up, but when he reopens them, they’re still there. It’s too late in the year for fireflies, too cold this late at night at the end of October, and yet the lights dance regardless. 

“Whoa,” he breathes, feeling a distinct sense of deja vu to when he was blitzed out of his mind on Russian truth serum and staring at the ceiling of Starcourt.

One of the stars comes close to him, wisping against his cheek like a tickling feather before flying away. Another does it to his left arm where he’s holding himself up, another to his hip where his shirt has ridden up slightly under his windbreaker. Steve giggles uncontrollably as another brushes his forehead and he turns his head to follow them. There’s another, and another, and another, and as he reaches out to catch one��

“Having a good night, big boy?”

[petertoddgrayson]

These incels love to scorn Babs because her alternate version from another universe slept with an alternate version of Bruce but conveniently forget that Main Continuity Dick Grayson fucked her bestfriend. What a bunch of asshat misogynists.

I love DickBabs because they compliment each other well not because Dick is some prize to get. I am a staunch fan of their pairing, hence I created this sub, but I will not turn a blind eye to Dick's imperfections. AntiDickBabs stans will complain about Barbara's bitchy attitude but what did Dick do?

- Slept with Helena, Babs' bestfriend, and then called Babs the moment the deed was over. He is very much aware of the romantic tension between them and still proceeded to slap Babs with his sexcapade.

-Slept with Helena right after he broke up with Shawn. Poor Shawn had a relapse after seeing her boyfriend (who claimed to want a life with her) immediately went to town with another woman.

-Flirted with Vicki Vale then went on a monologue how Babs feels like home.

-Slept with Alia while claiming to be in love with Babs, then had a thing with Helena but had the audacity to be upset when Babs dates Luke.

-Made a very insensible remark about Babs' disability. "Don't make me regret putting an elevator here".

*And for the record, y'all can't say Babs slutshamed Dick because she never knew that Tarantula raped him. That feat belongs to Kory ALONE.*

-Attempted to pull a Paul move by trying to kiss Babs despite being aware that she is currently dating Luke.

-Had the audacity to propose to Babs after he slept with Kory in Outsiders run. Dick knew that chances of him dying in Infinite Crisis is high, so he proposed all the while turning a blind eye to how grave it's implications to Babs would be should he really perish from the whole ordeal. Babs would've been scarred for life.

**Ship stans like to paint Barbara as a bitchy whore when she's the only one in this whole mess who hasn't boned anyone's bestfriend, sibling, or some bestfriend's ex** *eyes Helena, Dick and Kory.*

Huntwing stans who pin DCAU Babs' affair with Bruce to degrade DickBabs in Main Continuity are one of the biggest imbeciles I've seen because Helena openly flirted and groped Bruce in the same franchise. Both are alternate universe events and shouldn't be used to detract the ships' merit in the Main Universe, but I guess, in their judgement it only applies with Helena.

I am not a hater of DickBabs, **I'm fucking fanatic of it**. My huge ass pile of DickBabs post in my profile will be the proof of that. I am just tired how unfairly Babs is being treated in the fandom with all these double standards **"It's a mischaracterization if it's Kory or Dick but with Babs it's not**". Stop with all the double standards. Babs is not lucky to have Dick; they're equally lucky to have each other and I dare say the same applies for other dickships. Dick is very far from perfect; so is Babs and everyone else. Stop putting characters in a fucking podium.

We have a DickBabs community on Reddit. You can use the link to join:

https://www.reddit.com/r/NightwingxOracle/s/OufZFNNzrM

Or simply search NightwingxOracle

[cyberwhumper]

Woah. Rex doesn’t remember getting drunk.

        But he must be, right? He’s gotta be fucking plastered to be this dizzy. He feels like he’s on a boat. Fuck, the whole world is spinning, tilted all diagonal style, lights way too bright. He winces, pulling back a little at the spike of pain behind his eyes. Vicky always insists on going to just the trashiest fucking clubs, way too loud, way too many lights—huh. Vic. There he is, the bitch.

             Rex tries to say something, to call him out for the stupid fucking look on his face, big brown eyes all wide and panicky looking, but his tongue feels like lead and the words just won’t come out. No big deal. Vicky yaps enough for the both of ‘em, always has.

“Cap?” he’s saying, getting up in Rex’s face. “Rex, bud, can you hear me?”

Of course Rex can’t hear him. The music is way too fucking loud, bass thundering in his ears and making his skull prickle. Or—huh. Wait. There isn’t any music. That’s just his pulse. And there aren’t actually any strobe lights, just fluorescent glare. They’re not at the club. Hell, he’s not even drunk. And he’s lying down on the…oh. On the ice.

Oh, fuck.

“Easy, dude. Don’t move. Trainer’s coming.” Vic’s got his glove off, fingers warm on Rex’s cheekbone. Rex whines in the back of his throat; Vicky shouldn’t be touching him like that, not here, not where everybody can see them, but goddamn if it doesn’t feel good, a little anchor, safe harbor in the storm.

Vic looks scared, though. He’s chewing on his mouthguard like a dog, and Rex wants to tell him to quit it, stop being a bitch and give him a hand up, but Christ, he really can’t figure out how to make his lips move. The spinning keeps happening, making his stomach clench, and the pain in his head is intensifying, a burning in his eyes and a dull ache at the base of his neck. Fuck.

Rex is…Rex is maybe a little scared too.

“Look at me. Hey. Hey. Cap, c’mon, look at me, baby, don’t close your eyes, Rex, Rex, FUCK, get the medic over here NOW—”

Doesn’t matter that he’s not drunk. Either way, he blacks out.

[Fic by the exceptionally talented @bxtterflystxtches , who I have the honor of collaborating with for this event. Please show him some love!]

[OC INDEX]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

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[mer-acle]

Sup, I’m in ur inbox again 🥳 because the idea of how Zeus would have gotten Apollo to like- not help Athena was intriguing to me I ended up writing like- a tiny lil thing with Bad Parent Zeus at his absolute finest

The first two people to rush towards Athena after she passed out were Ares and Apollo, but as soon as they were close Zeus held out a hand, glaring at his two sons, “Away, both of you.”

“Father-” Ares started

“I said, away, Ares.”

The war god bit his tongue. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near his father’s favorite and after what he’d just done to Athena he wasn’t going to deny being scared of angering the king of gods, but Apollo on the other hand seemed to not hold any fear at the time. His concern for Athena’s life pushing that away, “Father, Athena needs help we can’t possibly just leave her there!” Apollo protested, looking at his father with pleading eyes. He didn’t have the best relationship with Zeus either, the sky god preferring his twin sister over him more often than not, but this wasn’t about how much Zeus cared for him. It was about how much Zeus cared for Athena. Which may not be as much as everyone thought.

Ares distantly thought, foolish Apollo, father hates being tested, especially when he’s in a bad mood.

True to his personality Zeus violently grasped the archery god by the wrist, holding him up off the ground and glaring, “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do Apollo.”

“But-”

Lightning crackled in Zeus’ other hand which was now raised above Apollo, “But?” He challenged, daring the younger, terrified god to speak

Apollo didn’t say anything.

Ares didn’t say anything.

Nobody else said anything. Except Zeus, who yanked Apollo closer to him and growled in his ear, “You are forbidden from aiding her. She dug this grave by herself and she will lay in it”

Apollo could barely nod in response.

“Am I understood, Phoebus Apollo?”

“Yes- Y-Yes father.”

Zeus threw his son to the ground before addressing the rest of the gods present, “all of you begone! Go about your days!”

All the other gods began to migrate out of the arena, going back to whatever they were doing before. Ares helped Apollo up from the ground and walked with him until they found Artemis and the two twins went off elsewhere leaving Ares to spare one more glance at Zeus standing over Athena’s broken body before he left to go find Aphrodite.

Zeus decided he would go tell Hermes to free that mortal man after getting Athena to her room. The thunder god felt no guilt as he picked up his eldest daughter’s body, her golden blood staining his hands and clothing. She was burning hot to the touch and the gruesome scars from the lightning bolts almost ran down to the bone, but still, he was guiltless for it all. Athena had brought her suffering upon herself with her own insolence. She deserved this. And it was not as if Zeus wasn’t still completing his end of the deal, her mortal would go free and be given a final chance to return home. He had done nothing wrong, he never did anything wrong.

Does this make sense? Absolutely NOT was it fun making Zeus a bad father as per usual? YES 😼

Hi Vicky :)

She dug this grave herself and she will lie in it

Girl! 😭 /Pos

I love Apollo being so in his domain that he's not even afraid initially

Now I kinda imagine Zeus carrying Athena and she wakes up still in his arms... no matter how she reacts it would be HEARTBREAKING (is this a request... I mean if you want to it totally is lol)

Also getting fanfic based on fanfic I've written is the most surreal experience I swear 😭 thank youuu

I love this sm