#find a realtor to sell my house

[samkuren01]

Finding a real estate agent is a Herculean task. The problem is further escalated when the market is flooded with agents, and you need to know which one to trust.

MyRealTalk app seamlessly connects users with trusted realtors and agents, prioritizing privacy. Users can connect with agents for expert advice and professional collaboration without revealing their identity initially.

URL: https://www.myrealtalk.com/blog-detail/meet-the-top-realtors-and-real-estate-agents-of-moorestown

[so-i-did-this-thing]

from a trans guy stuck in florida, do you have any advice on getting out of here? I saw that you moved to new england which is, coincidentally, the place I'm trying to go too. i feel like I either oversimplify or overcomplicate moving away until it's just not possible in my mind. how did you manage to do it?

I played a long game wrt my exit strategy. I left my toxic industry (advertising) of 20+ years behind in 2018 and built up experience over the next 4 years in a new field (civic tech) where remote work was the norm. Once I landed a fully remote job, I kicked off the moving plan.

Once I had a new, remote job secure, my partner and I started looking for homes and eventually were referred to a Realtor who specialized in remote sales. I had to trust her and the inspector to give us an honest assessment of a house I wouldn't see in person until the day we moved in. It was stressful, ngl.

I was very, very lucky in that I could move in with my mother in Orlando for several months, which let me sell my old place, first, and be flexible on move-in dates. The actual move was done via a few container services.

So, my advice for initial prep:

Start downsizing, both in terms of stuff and places where you may be overspending.

Get job prospects in sight

Save for a down payment / deposit

Get your credit to "excellent," if possible. (I learned my name change fucked up my score, so had to spend a lot of time fixing that)

Research multiple towns based on your needs

Find someone in that area to house hunt for you and figure out a budget

Downsize your stuff again. More. No, more than that.

Prep for moving costs

Start packing the stuff you won't need for a while. Keep packing until it's time to move.

Hire a container service that isn't PODS. (U-pack was good to me.)

Get your pet logistics in order (if you have any)

Get your vehicle in order

I had a lot of spreadsheets and checklists t9 get me through the sale of my old place and everything I needed to do to buy and move into a new one. Maybe similar is a good place to start, because there are little things (like downsizing) you can do, now. Good luck.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! First of all: Thanking all the Mods for all of your hard work, because I love and appreciate this blog and everything that goes into it!

Second: Can you recommend fics where Crowley and Aziraphale go house hunting, either individually or as a pair?

Hello! We have some house hunting fics here, and I've got some more now...

A Cottage, a Couple, and a Day in the Life of a Real Estate Agent by AnonymousDandelion (G)

Lori hadn’t even realized she had any clients on the schedule for this afternoon — all her other appointments had called to cancel at the last minute — until the calendar notification had popped up on her computer reminding her that she had not one but two showings coming up soon. Thank God for calendar reminders, because there was no way she'd ever have remembered on her own; embarrassingly enough, even after the reminder, she still hadn’t recognized either of the names. Clearly, both clients must have independently scheduled their appointments over the phone — Lori had no communication record in her email, just their names and contact info in the calendar entry — but apparently she’d been so fully zoned out that not only had she taken no notes and accidentally double-booked without realizing it, the entire conversation had completely and utterly slipped her memory. Five years working in real estate, and this was the first time this had ever happened to Lori. She really needed to start getting more sleep. ~ ~ ~ In which Lori shows a cottage in the South Downs, and has a Time of it. No human realtor should have to deal with these two clients. Lori does her best.

Selling South Downs by Pixiefairy15, Slurpi13 (T)

For Sale: Beautifully maintained 3 bedroom thatched cottage nestled in the heart of the South Downs. On paper, they were perfect. A middle-aged couple, looking for a holiday home in a quiet village in the South Downs. Picky was the wrong word to describe what they were. They were never impolite or demanding, never threw a tantrum over something outside of my control like some previous clients had. They were just… odd. An estate agent helps Aziraphale and Crowley search for their dream home, becoming increasingly exasperated at their nonsensical requirements and strange behaviour as they reject house after house.

Just Right by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Inspired by newfound freedom and his deepening relationship with Aziraphale, Crowley longs for more space. He suggests that they buy a cottage together, and Aziraphale is thrilled at the idea. But can they find a cottage that is just right?

The Wanting Comes in Waves by skimmingthesurface (T)

Looking at cottages in the South Downs should be fairly simple for one angel and demon who've seen their fair share of residences across centuries, but although they want to take this step to bridge the two halves of their side in the years after stopping Armageddon, there's still a wanting that's tucked away, that they wouldn't dare let see the light of day just yet. Though, their estate agent believing them to be married might not give them much of a choice in the matter.

post-professional endeavours by darcylindbergh (T)

Retirement is a four-letter word.

A Narrow Escape to the Country by shaggydogstail (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale appear as house hunters on BBC daytime institution, Escape to the Country. They are incredibly annoying. Sympathies, please, for the unlucky producer who is not getting paid enough to put up with their nonsense.

- Mod D

[millerflintstone]

News!

We've been packing up our house over the past few months and have started the process with a couple of realtors about selling our house and finding a rental house in or near Albuquerque, NM. We'll be viewing our second rental possibility on Wednesday. We're gonna talk with the realtor representing that property today at some point. We've seen one property that is a possibility. We'll hopefully get our house listed in the next couple of weeks.

We visited NM in late 2018 and fully had plans to go out again and better scout areas and get a better idea of where to settle down but then life had other plans*. And then there was quarantine and everything we all went through. So, we just decided to get out of GA sooner rather than later.

My current worry is the drive out there. I have so much anxiety about driving cross country by myself. Unfriendly will have stuff in his truck he doesn't want on a moving van, as will I in my car, so we wouldn't be taking turns driving. I'm just an anxious driver in general. I started looking up options for transporting my car last week and got sidetracked.

Anyway, fingers crossed we'll be out there by August.

*I ended up needing a hysterectomy which was a slow healing experience for me. We both had family die between 2019 and 2021. My job situation blew up between 2021 and 2022 and I didn't work for most of 2023. That's the quick and dirty version for folks who haven't been around since then

[lunardragon00]

OT8 Halloween Masterlist - View TV Guide - Favorites - On Demand - All Channels - Show more...

Channel 1007 // Van Helsing @1200

Famed monster slayer Jeong Yunho is dispatched to Transylvania to defeat Count Dracula.  Y/N Valerious reveals that Dracula has formed an alliance with Dr. Frankenstein's monster and is hell-bent on exacting a centuries-old curse on her family.  Together, they set out to destroy their common enemy, but uncover some unsettling secrets along the way.

- Select Channel-

Channel 1011 // Corpse Bride @1200

Wooyoung and Yuna’s families have arranged their marriage. Though they like each other, Wooyoung is nervous about the ceremony. While he's in a forest practicing his lines for the wedding, he is dragged to the land of the dead.  A ghostly bride, Y/N, wants to marry him. Wooyoung now faces a complex decision. Find an escape and marry a woman he hardly knows, or remain in the land of the dead and marry a woman he hardly knows. 

- Select Channel -

Channel 1014 // Crimson Peak

After marrying the charming and seductive Sir Choi San, Y/N finds herself swept away to his remote gothic mansion in the English hills.  Able to communicate with the dead, Y/N tries to decipher the mystery behind the ghostly visions that haunt her new home. As she comes closer to the truth, Y/N may learn that true monsters are made of flesh and blood.

- Select Channel -

Channel 1018 // Haunted Mansion

Realtors Song Mingi and his wife Y/N get a call late one night from a mansion owner who is looking to sell his property. Smelling the biggest deal of their career, Mingi and Y/N pay a visit to the manor, located on a remote bayou.  How long will it take until the couple unearth the mysteries of the mansion?

- Select Channel -

Channel 1021 // Killing Boys

After a horrific incident in her high school years, Y/N - now a demon - turns a hungry eye on guys who never stood a chance with her before.  While she satisfies her appetite for human flesh with the school's male population, she encounters nerdy boy Park Seonghwa. Something about him intrigues her, but will it be enough to keep him alive. 

- Select Channel -

Channel 1025 // Interview with a Vampire

Born as an 18th-century lord, Kang Yeosang is now a bicentennial vampire, telling his story to an eager biographer.  Suicidal after the death of his family, he meets Y/N, a vampire who persuades him to choose immortality over death and become his companion. 

- Select Channel -

Channel 1028 // Phantom of the Opera

From his hideout beneath a 19th century Paris opera house, the brooding Phantom schemes to get closer to vocalist Y/N.  The Phantom, wearing a mask to hide a congenital disfigurement, strong-arms management into giving the budding starlet key roles, but Y/N’s brother, the arts benefactor, Seonghwa tries to foil his scheme.

- Select Channel -

Channel 1031// Say My Name

After Y/N dies in a car accident, she finds herself stuck haunting her families beloved old country residence, unable to leave the house.  When the unbearable Jung’s and their teen son buy the home, Y/N attempts to scare them away without success. Her efforts attract the demon Hongjoong, a rambunctious spirit whose "help" quickly becomes dangerous. 

- Select Channel -

[mystycalypso]

Return to Ravenbrooks: Biography

Entry 2

Name: Nicholas Michael Roth

Date of Birth: 1997

Gender: M

Current Address: [REDACTED]

Height: 5'6 (5'3 when hunched)

Hair color: Brown

Eye color: Brown

Key features: Freckles, Messy hair, 5 o'clock shadow, hunched posture, goggles

Role: Spy

Abilities: Lock picking, pickpocketing, sneaking, gadget inventing, climbing, crafting

Occupation: N/A

Status: Stunted

Biography:

I couldn't find a reaction to the blue home that pulled into view in front of me. As far as I knew it wouldn't be our house for long.

It never was. It seemed like every summer we were packing up again. Another school year, another house, another happy realtor welcoming us to the town.

He looked back at me from the mirror, a smile on his face while we slid into the driveway. "Chin up Narf! Yknow with any luck-" I fought the urge to finish the sentence. It was the same every time. "This'll be it! No more boxes, no more moving trucks!"

I remember sitting on the curb, staring at everything and nothing. He sat next to me, pulling the brim of my cap down over my eyes. "You doing alright, Narf?" I was silent. He waited patiently for a minute, then let out a soft sigh. "I know it's hard moving so much." Most of his words are fuzzy now. But I can remember the warmth of his voice, the weight of the gift he put in my hand. It made a metal clunk. Like the box of drill bits he kept around. But it wasn't drill bits. It was something much better. More useful.

I'll forever be thankful for that gift. Those lockpicks have done me so much good over these years. Without them, I'd never have met Aaron, and I might not even be here today.

When that summer had come around again, it was a surprise to not see any packing. No for sale signs, nothing.

For a few months believed he'd been right. That I'd end up growing up in this house, just across the street from my best friend and his little sister. I thought we'd go on looking for supernatural mysteries in the town until we were too old to believe in them.

Why couldn't that have been the end of it?

Why did I have to wake up that night to my mother's bloodcurdling scream?

Why did I run downstairs?

Why did I have to see his body in such a state?

The windows were open, the curtains billowing wildly in the wind. Those birds were- everywhere. It felt like they were watching us. If I hadn't woken up, maybe they would've fed on my mother too, in her fainted state.

"Natural causes," they told us. Nothing they could do.

Mom tried to keep it together, to keep calm despite everything. But the house, it was too much. Just being in the same room brought her to hysterics. And I...I could barely understand it all back then.

Everyone in town knew what happened in our house. Despite everything they did to "fix it". The new bright orange coat of paint wouldn't be enough to sell it. At least- I thought so for so long. Heck, I didn't believe it when I saw the "sold" sticker. It was only when I saw them from the chimney of Mr. Peterson's house that I realized it had really happened. That something had really changed. I just didn't know how much.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I posted this 1906 home in Cincinnati, Ohio a while ago, and it didn't sell. Now, it's back on the market again. 4bds, 3ba, $299,900. I thought that they would've used the time off the market to put their stuff in storage and have it staged. They didn't. Take a look- do you think it will sell this time?

Welcome to the house of maximalism. I like the pony wall and columns at the entrance to the sitting room.

In the entrance hall outside the sitting room.

But, there's just so much stuff! Didn't the realtor tell them? Are those pocket doors on the left?

Good Golly, Miss Molly, look at the dining room. Setting the table was totally unnecessary.

This bathroom! It has huge upholstered seat w/pillows and bolsters, plus a TV.

This is the kitchen. My friend just sold her house and the realtor told her to have NOTHING on the kitchen counters.

Would you believe this is the laundry room? I didn't realize it until I noticed the washer and dryer.

This is the guest powder room. How does she clean all of this?

The 2nd fl. bedrooms and baths.

The primary bedroom is jam packed.

This smaller secondary bedroom is so packed you can just make your way to the bed.

Bathroom #3. I used to get a catalog called "Touch of Class" that had this kind of decor and it looks like they bought everything in it.

This looks like a spare room.

Here we are up in the attic. I think that this is just extra furniture. Maybe they own a store?

Look. Why would there be a dining set up here?

Unless this is stuff that they no longer like or that they rotate.

The home is on a small lot and the realtor doesn't even give the square footage.

There isn't much of a yard b/c there's a big driveway.

There's a bit more yard on the side of the garage.

If you'd like to peruse the Touch of Class catalog, here's the link.

[buddieisgoingcanon25]

So I think I have a theory (or just what I would like to see) of how 8b might play out 🤭

Tim mentioned Buck maybe getting into a short term relationship because of his abandonment issues but made it clear that it won’t last.

However, to actually break Buck’s cycle this is either going to have to mean that Buck or the other person finally click onto what Buck always does.

So my theory: maybe Eddie can’t sell the house before heading to Texas so he decides to just rent in El Paso and asks Buck to try and manage getting the house sold or rented out. Maybe Buck moves in claiming it’s ‘easier’ and always ignores the realtor and finds excuses for not being able to meet or set up viewings.

Then in true 911 fashion I think the person Bucks gets with will be tied to Maddie’s kidnapping.

Maybe Buck will have invited them over to Eddie’s and once realising they’re to blame, Buck has a moment of ‘jumping into things hurts me and this time it’s hurt my family so it has to stop’ (I also think since the person will only be getting close to Buck strategically that we may get hints of this person getting Buck to realise his obsession with his best friend is pretty romantic)

I also have a theory that they’ll go down the route of ‘I don’t need a relationship as long as I have you and Chris’ with Eddie and that his sexuality arc will actually be about in choosing joy he realises that he wants what he currently has but romantically.

I think we might get a Buck and Eddie who are swearing off relationships for now but become more and more codependent until one or both of them have their ‘oh’ moment.

All this to say, if anyone wants to write this as a fic instead please do and drop me the link too😅😍

Oh I like your theory anon. I’ll take anything at this point. Now we have 3 months to speculate.

[39confetti]

Can you make a Maison Talo x grumpy reader if it's possible? 😅

Okay lessgo !! (Also sorry for the time I took, university is rough oof- I tried my best so I hope you'll enjoy it !)

Maison Talo x Grumpy reader Headcanon !!!

When Maison approached you the first time, to talk about this house he’s selling, he knew you were going to be kind of challenging. 

Especially after that first dialogue, “You’re lost and new” he told you, “You need a place to call-” “Fuck off” you said on a monotone tone.

You surprised him, and he didn’t know how to react. But he found it fairly funny to have such a tough prey to hunt.

Of course, he didn’t and will NEVER give up on devouring you. Actually, he’s pretty sure you are spicier than the other dishes he has tasted.

He wasn’t surprised that you refused to follow him to the house, but with that look you gave him, full of disgust, he couldn’t forget you.

So he kept on searching for preys, and any time he saw you he'd try again ! “Hey it’s been a while ! That house is still available-” 

“I saw you yesterday. Weirdo.” You’d answer most of the time.

One day he kept on repeating how hungry he felt, and you were so tired of it that you took him to the restaurant. He seemed surprised, his cheeks were red, and when you realized what the situation looked like, you were pretty embarrassed yourself. Well, you surprisingly spent a really good time together ! 

Maison is still after you, but you kind of accommodated. 

Even though he always begins his conversations the same, it has evolved. 

He’s a bit tactile, he can’t help it, an arm around the neck, a hand on your shoulder. And when you tell him so aggressively to stop it... Oh man, it’s like butterflies were rumbling in his stomach. But he just stop and fakely apologize.

“What a salty little human…” he think to himself.

He absolutely ADORE teasing you, you are absolutely delicious when you’re angry.

Also, he loves making you all embarrassed in public, and when you complain, he’ll answer you, “ Well well, you’re the one who never wants to come visist my home. Maybe it wouldn’t happen if you tried it…”

He doesn’t quite understand why he keeps on being so patient with you. All he wanted was to eat you, but now… There’s something else that grew inside of him. A strange feeling for a realtor like him.

Also, even if you clealy take care of them yourself, he’ll protect you the best way he can. Oh he absolutely hates when others of his kind approach you. He won’t show it, but he’d love to find their real body and burn them.

That’s why Maison often appears behind you when a guy tries to sell another house. That’s when he become touchy too. “Oh, sorry. They already have one.” with a big bright smile and eyes full of rage. Always work !

You can remind you him as much as you want that you don't need him to defend yourself, he'll simply answer you with a small grin and a "Sure little one." that always piss you off.

Ugh, you hate those sellers so MUCH, afterward you end up complaining about it to him, and he’ll always listen carefully. You almost forget he's a seller himself.

Even himself, he’ll start to complain with you, about how hard it is to be a seller in this economy, how he can barely eat what he wants.

You hate to admit it, but it feels good right ? Finally, someone doesn't complain about your emotions, and why you’re not smiling more.

He just loves you the way you are.

No matter how negative your emotions are, Maison will always be here to listen.

[missybee-writes]

Shadow in the Dark: Chapter Two - Munson Magic

Genre: Sci-fi; Romance; Horror

Warnings: (eventual) sexual content; violence; gore; swearing; alcohol and drug use.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC

Summary

In July ‘85, an ambitious realtor sells the crumbling Creel house to a family looking for a new start.

Rose McAllister may be living in a grand and gothic murder house in a small Midwest town, but senior year in high school is the stuff of her nightmares: a last chance at a normal school year without being the odd one out, the sick girl, the weirdo from across the pond. Blend in, make it through the year, and make some friends. Stay unnoticed at all costs.

Hawkins, and one seriously loud-mouthed metalhead, is about to flip that carefully laid plan Upside Down.

Chapter one: Cursed

Ao3 link

---

Chapter Two: Munson Magic

Rose

“It’s the most hellish day of your life,” the words trip off Eddie’s tongue with all the gravitas of a stage actor, his eyes peeping over the demon-painted dungeon master’s screen, boring into her soul. “You’ve been betrayed, abandoned, and left to face danger alone. You have one move remaining; a last gambit. What do you do, Rose? Do you take the potion of invisibility and hide from your enemies, or do you face the dragon Iymrith in its lair, ready to face your demise?”

Fight or flight. Be invisible, or show herself and take on her demons. This first Dungeons and Dragons campaign perfectly mirrored her first day at Hawkins High, and probably her whole life. There was something comfortable about being unnoticed, until you realised no one missed your presence at all. The irony of this choice was not lost on Rose.

She’d stumbled into the lair of Hellfire after school three hours ago, finding herself drawn into a campaign with six very intense, very passionate teenage boys in matching shirts. A party of adventurers, led by a manic, charismatic rocker. He could have been obnoxious with his loud personality, impassioned rants, and a decent-sized ego, but somehow he wasn’t. He was kind, with the prettiest eyes she had ever seen. God, no, she couldn’t be thinking about his eyes right now. Or his lips. Or the glimpse of tattoos on the skin of his forearms, or the ...shit . Compose yourself, McAllister.

Gareth and Mike were talking at a thousand miles an hour about hit points and odds of success as she pulled herself together. The guys were on the edge of their seats, waiting for her next move, each one of them already killed by the dragon; the hopes of the party lay upon her shoulders. Her skin prickled beneath the itchy wool of her mum’s cardigan, far too hot and stuffy for the warm September night. Be brave , she told herself. Take out the sword .

“I take the potion,” she said, defeated. “I drain the glass vial in one gulp, and seek refuge in the thick brambles of the forest. If the ice dragon can’t see me, it can’t kill me, right?”

Eddie gave her time to sweat, ignoring the debate of the Hellfire members in the background. “You sure, Lady Thorn?”

God, it really was warm in here. Rose’s hand toyed with the dice. “Yes, but...maybe...agh. I’m starting to worry that my big, completely unexpected entrance tonight has you thinking i’m brave and cool and capable of slaying a dragon. You’re probably thinking i’m Eowyn, Lady of Rohan, wielding swords and kicking arse, and about to punch the Witch-king of Angmar in the bollocks.”

Gareth, who had taken an ill-timed sip from his can of coke, sprayed it back over the table, choking and coughing until Jeff and Chris both slapped him on the back, just a little too hard.

Eddie didn’t even notice, he was staring like she was on fire, lips parted a little bit. “You read Tolkien?”

Rose didn’t hear him; she was mid-ramble, so hot and flushed she had to pull the cardigan off her head clumsily and scrunch it into a ball in her lap. “I’ve built myself up to be a shieldmaiden, but the truth is, i’m just a hobbit. I want to sit by the fire in Bag End, with a nice cup of tea and a book. So maybe I should just take the potion and run from Iymrith.”

“That didn’t work out so well for Frodo, did it?” Dustin finally broke his silence. “When he wore the One Ring he wasn’t exactly invisible, and it led to him being stabbed by the Morgul-knife, carried by the Witch-king of Angmar himself. You might wanna hide, Rose, but the fight has come to you.”

“Henderson speaks wisely,” Eddie admitted begrudgingly. “The time for self-doubt is over, sweetheart. Iymrith the dragon waits for no woman - be she shieldmaiden or hobbit. His wings beat overhead, stirring the canopy of leaves in the forest. He spies your fiery dark red hair in the tree cover, and takes aim.”

Rose panicked. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...I prize Mike’s single-handed sword from his dead, cold grip and raise it toward the dragon.”

“ Yes , I knew you had it in you,” Gareth choked out, his voice still croaky. “Take the bastard down.”

“But it's madness!” Jeff was spiralling, hyperventilating and shaking his fist. “You can’t just wield a single-handed blade against a dragon with most of its hit points remaining.”

“Jeff’s right, the physics of it would never work,” Dustin agreed, wielding his pencil like a sword. “But we don’t traverse the Forgotten Realms to debate physics, my friends. We do it in the name of adventure. We do it to be heroes!”

The cluttered drama room was buzzing with cheers and applause; Rose lurched to her feet, clutching the edge of the wooden table with her hands. She had no idea what she was doing, but she felt like the moment demanded dramatics.

“I pull back my arm, and launch the sword into the air like a javelin, in the path of the dragon.”

She looked up expectantly at Eddie. He passed the d20, and they all held their breath as she rolled in onto the table. It bounced and clattered, settling on seventeen.

“That’s high, that’s a high number, really high” she babbled. “Did it work?”

“Hold on,” Mike added. “The chances of a random sword hitting the dragon and doing anything other than bouncing off or giving it a little cut is tiny . The DM would have set a ridiculously high target, like 19 or 20. It’s what I would have done.”

Their current DM looked down at a mass of paper and notes behind his demon-painted screen.  He let them sweat, face inscrutable, leaning back in his wooden carved throne. “Kid Wheeler is correct. I’m sorry, Lady Thorn, your sword swings in a parabola through the air, skittering off the dragon’s back.”

“Motherfucker,” Rose groaned and slapped the table, earning a slightly startled look from the younger guys. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeff says, deflated. “Eddie’s campaigns are sadistic. It’s amazing you even made it to the end alone, especially playing as a nymph. They’re kind of useless, with no-”

“Hold on a minute, did I look like I was finished?” Eddie interrupted. “Cool it for a second. The sword glances off the dragon’s back, but as the blade strikes its scales something flickers...you see a disturbance, and instead of a leathery wing, a humanoid shape takes its place. A humanoid with tentacles coming from its head. Its skin is purple-grey, and covered in a film of mucus, from eating brains!”

“Aw, man, this can’t be happening,” Dustin panicked, pacing around his side of the table. “It’s a goddamned illusion. It wasn’t Iymrith after all.”

“What?” Rose cried out, way too loud.”

“I think Mike’s sword was spelled. It broke an illusion. But that means...” Gareth trailed off.

Dustin sighed heavily. “It’s a Mindflayer.”

“Fuck off!” Mike cried reflexively. “We cannot be doing this again, man. It’s been two months.”

Chris’ mouth gaped open. “Did you guys have a Mindflayer campaign over the summer, or something?”

“Or something alright,” Dustin said, serious as the grave.

Tension quietened the table. They looked at each other over the goblet and flickering candles, working out the consequences of this development. And Rose, as usual, had no bloody clue what was going on, only an instinct to let it play out naturally.

“Wait, this is good news, gentlemen - and lady.” Eddie added quickly. “The Mindflayer is working in your characters’ minds. All your characters are still alive, under the creature’s spell. If the odds are with you, you might just be able to break free and slay it. And thus, the baby-campaign continues next week.“

“Thank the gods,” Jeff sighed. “I’m too attached to my spellcaster to give him up.”

Eddie looked over at her, puppy dog eyes watching her every move, manic energy dialled right down, strangely vulnerable. “ So. That’s the whole Dungeons and Dragons thing. What did you...uh...was it good? I mean, did you enjoy it?”

She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “Did I enjoy it? That was fucking brilliant. I know my nymph was essentially useless when we had to fight, but I did it...I stood up to the forces of evil; I wasn’t just a hobbit, I was a warrior like Eowyn. I just wished I had been better and actually slain the dragon. Not very impressive, am I...”

They rushed to correct her, all talking at once. “Hold on,” Gareth said loudest. “I saw you humiliate Carver and his letterman assholes within minutes of arriving at school, not just making fun of him personally but undermining the stupid masculine sports-thing, attacking the very pillar of his masculinity. You are totally impressive.”

The Hellfire members were laughing, looking at her in a new light.

“What?” Eddie blustered, head swivelling to look at them all. “What? Where? What? How the fuck did I miss that?”

Gareth shrugged. “This is what happens when you get detention in O’Donnell’s class for ranting about the rigidity of a reading list, man. You miss the best moment of the school year so far. I’ve never seen so many jocks scratch their heads at once.”

Rose snorted with laughter very inelegantly, and flushed red with embarrassment. “It was just like that gorilla impression Eddie did in the cafeteria today.”

Eddie gawped even wider. “You saw me, sweetheart? And here I thought the mouthbreathers juggling their big bouncy balls were the only spectators. Damn. Damn . I am speechless. Words have failed me. And there is never a moment when I don’t have something to say.”

“Clearly not that speechless. You’re still talking,” Jeff mumbed.

Eddie folded his arms over his chest, showing off tattoos, lit by the candles and spotlights. Bats. Intriguing.

“So you liked it?” He asked again. As she glanced at the others, she wondered how many new members they really took on. Six guys, most of whom seemed to know each other well. Admittedly not the type to sit at the top of the food chain in a school environment. Not a single girl amongst them.

“Liked it?” She put her hand to her chest. “I feel like I've just fought off the hordes of hell itself. My heart is racing.”

Eddie’s eyes dropped to her chest; her laughter died on her lips, as realised what she felt beneath the palm of her hand. Not the scratchy cardigan stolen from her mum this morning - that was dropped to the floor, forgotten in the throes of battle - but instead skin, with a ridge of twisted scar tissue snaking up the middle of her sternum, ending halfway to her collarbones. Shit .

She looked down, and picked up the cardigan, holding it up to her chest, but the nervous looks on their faces told her everything she’d needed to know. They’d already seen it.

“Hey,” Eddie said, soft as velvet. “You don’t need to...uh...hide yourself or anything. And I don’t just mean the badass scar, I mean... you , y’know? We’re the freaks, sweetheart. I was a little worried that this apparently perfect girl had stumbled in here, and we were gonna find out you were a preppy asshole, or something. Which you are not, by the way. Very cool. Very unique.”

Rose dipped her head, her face flushing hot. She dropped the cardigan, mustering up the courage to say something, anything. 

“This is totally unfair,” Dustin burst out, lighthearted and smiling. “Look at you, showing off your collarbones and everything. I don’t even have collarbones. Watch this...”

He flexed his shoulders forward, and they moved at an unnatural angle and almost met at his front, to the surprise of the older guys.

“Cleidocranial dysplasia,” he grinned, metal-clad teeth on display. “Had a few missing teeth, too, but these babies are new. Look out, sophomore year, Dustin Henderson is going to have a full set of teeth. I’ll be unstoppable.”

He did a little tiger-like roar, and it was the lamest, most brilliant thing Rose had ever heard in her life. She collapsed with laughter, holding her aching sides.

“I’ve seen this act more times than I can count,” Mike grumbled like an old man. “It gets old.”

Eddie was beaming at the head of the table at his little freak show. “That is metal, Henderson. Very metal. How about you, princess? How’d you get the battle scar?” His eyes widened and he made a goofy gesture with his arms. “You don’t have to talk about it, not if you don’t want to. Not an order, not that I even can order you, though i’d kinda like...i’d kinda like to shut up now.”

Rose’s head ducked down, and pulled a thread from the cardigan in her lap absentmindedly. “I was born with a congenital heart defect. Everything was fine until I was thirteen, then it wasn’t fine. I’d go blue in the lips and get breathless. They kept me in hospital for almost a year, told me I had a very small chance of survival because the deformity was so rare, they didn’t even have treatment for it yet. Between thirteen and sixteen I was in and out of hospital more than school.”

“That must have been tough,” Mike said quietly, his quiet demeanour and hidden empathy surprising for a boy of fourteen. “My girlfriend missed a lot of school too, for...uh...similar reasons. It was really hard for her to make friends.”

“You find out who your true friends are when things get really bad,” Rose admitted bitterly. “They dropped off one by one. When I was well enough to go to school they weren't mean or anything, but they weren’t really friends any more either. By the time I was sixteen the hospital had developed a very experimental surgery. Cracked me open like a lobster, gave me this beautiful scar, and - despite the bit in the middle where I died on the table - I woke up, and felt...normal. OK, I was shit for a few months, but then I was normal as any person with a heart condition can be. They fixed up the old ticker and sent me on my way.”

“Hold on...you DIED?” Eddie’s strangled voice echoed across the prop room. “Like, heart stopped? Clinically dead?”

“Yep. For quite a long time. It was a miracle that they resuscitated me, actually. I don’t remember anything. No alternate dimensions, no grey purgatory, no light at the end of a tunnel. Just a feeling of weightlessness, like I was floating in water, no sight or sound. Then I was coming around in the ward, off my head on morphine.”

“That is fucking intense, McAllister. That’s goes beyond metal, that’s...that’s fucking magical.”

“Doesn’t feel magical,” Rose glanced down at herself. The scar was the width and length of a pencil; two years had seen it fade from angry red to a pinkish silver, still standing out from the creamy pale skin. When she looked in the mirror it was all she could see, despite her mother’s words of encouragement, telling her to wear it with pride.

“Scars are fucking cool. Look, I pay to get stabbed with needles so I can have something half as cool as that. See?” Eddie dragged down the collar of his shirt; her eyes trailed down his neck - oh my god, his neck - to more ink scratched across his skin, a figure she couldn’t make out, obscured beneath a guitar pick necklace.

“Did they hurt?” She asked tentatively.

“These babies? Not really. More like a very intense tickle. Except when it went over bone, then I was crying like a little girl. Weeping, snotty, begging for mercy, the whole deal.”

Eddie was a lot . Leather chains at his wrist and on his jeans, demon on his shirt, attitude bordering on obnoxious when it came to the jocks in the cafeteria. Yet Rose could see that in the privacy of the drama room he was goofy, patient, utterly enthusiastic, and possibly even a little bit vulnerable. It was almost enough to give her whiplash.

“I thought a dungeon master would be made of sterner stuff.” She teased.

His grin was brighter than the stage lights in the background. “Oh yeah? You haven’t seen what a DM can really do, sweetheart. Next semester's next campaign is going to be mind blowing. My best yet. If you...uh...I haven’t had time to talk to the guys about this, but do you wanna stick around for it, maybe?”

Rose looked at her watch. It was nearly seven; hours had blown by, her mood totally transformed since the incident in the locker room almost four hours ago. “I don’t think I can, my mum is probably outside waiting for me.”

Eddie grabbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I kind of meant next time. We meet on Fridays, same time, same place. If you want to. No pressure; like Gareth said before, hanging out with Hellfire isn’t exactly a fast track to popularity or an easy life around here.”

“You want me to come back? Really?”

“Hellfire has had girls before, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jeff explained. “But not since Ronnie graduated in ‘84. I don’t mind.”

Gareth was also enthusiastic. “If you can voice the female characters we come across on our travels, I'm totally in. It’s not been the same since my voice dropped at the end of freshman year.”

“This is so exciting,” Dustin gushed. “We’re gonna have to create a character for you. We can run you through classes, alignments, preferred weaponry...the possibilities are endless! We could even meet at lunch or in the library or something, to flesh you out before next week’s session.”

Mike snapped his fingers. “As long as it brings balance to the party, right? I’m a paladin, that’s like a knight. Jeff’s a spellcaster, Chris a fighter, Dustin’s a bard...Lucas - you’ll meet him next week - is a ranger. We are really in need of a cleric, though. We haven’t had one since our friend Will the Wise moved to California.”

Rose was trying to piece it all together, but it was a lot of new information. “What do clerics do?”

“They heal,” Eddie said, fidgeting in his seat. “Clerics are conduits of otherworldly power. I can kind of see it, but it’s a little...predictable.”

“Predictable?”

Eddie kept her on edge, gaze sweeping over her, nodding to himself.  He leaned so close she could smell cigarettes, Old Spice, and something musky, uniquely man . Her throat went dry.

“You are anything but predictable, McAllister. You survived death; you’re probably told you should forget it, move on, pretend it didn’t happen. That shit stays with you, but you can take charge of it. Own it. You know, I can see you as a necromancer.”

It was like Eddie Munson, freak, dungeon master, could see right into her mess of a mind. Plucked out her greatest fear and twisted into a strength. 

Dustin took in a shocked breath. “Oooh, that is so perfect. You survived death, and now you raise others from the dead to do your bidding. Liches - or necromancers, same thing - are kinda evil though, and they are not usually part of the adventurers party. And I would have pegged you as chaotic good.”

“Chaotic neutral,” Eddie mused, holding onto his chin. “You’re good most of the time, but you can also be very bad if you want to be.”

He was trying to kill her, wasn't he? Finish off the job, heart beating overtime.

Her lips tugged upward into a reluctant smile. “I like it. I think I really like it. But my Tolkien metaphors are going to be completely confused. I’m a hobbit by nature, I want to be Eowyn of Rohan, but i’m really Sauron the Necromancer himself? Can I even play with you if I'm evil?”

“Eh, we’ll work on it.” Eddie breezed over it, chin propped up on his hands. “I am all powerful after all. Might have to make some adjustments to the upcoming campaign, but I think it's going to work out in the end.”

The clickety-clack of footsteps echoed down the distant hall. “Rose?” A very familiar voice called out. 

“Shit,” Rose launched out of her seat. “I have to go, that’s my mum.”

Eddie looked resigned. “I get it. Parentals will be scared of the princess hanging out with the freaky cultists, huh?”

Rose barked out a sharp laugh, scrambling over to the costume rack, looking for the leather satchel she threw dramatically into the corner on entering the room this afternoon. “That’s a low roll and a miss, dungeon master. She may look like an English librarian, but...you’re the Fellowship, she’s the Balrog.”

“Balrog,” Eddie echoed, leaping over to help Rose. “Scary, Flame of Udun, lurks beneath mountains. Got it.”

“Rosebud, are you here? Is everything alright? ” Her mother called out, voice drawing closer with each step.

Eddie popped up from the costume pile with a satchel in his hand and a curious look on his face. “Rosebud, huh? Cute.”

Oh wonderful, now he knew her humiliating childhood nickname. She snatched the bag from him, and paused, desperate to say something funny, something smooth, or at least something memorable before she left. Instead, she went beetroot red and mumbled incoherently. 

“Huh?” Eddie squinted.

Okay, charisma is lacking. Honesty might have to do.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, to Eddie and all the guys all watching behind him. “This could have been a really bad day, but thanks to you, it was bloody lovely.”

“Rose!”

“The Balrog calls,” she paused at the door, taking one last look at the Hellfire boys over her shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

---

Eddie

“Uh...gentlemen?” Eddie asked, hands running through his hair. “Did I concuss myself under that table, or did that whole session really just happen?”

The prop room was somehow smaller, darker now that she had gone. If it wasn’t for the extra chair squished to the right of his throne, and the incredibly unusual stillness of the six guys behind him, Eddie Munson would swear he just experienced a three-hour fever dream. 

“I like her,” Henderson’s first to break the silence, throwing out his chipper verdict on the freaking angel that just upended Hellfire. “She was neat.”

“ Neat ?” Eddie wheeled around, revved up, no outlet for his thousand-mile-an-hour thoughts. Crap, he needed to dial it down a notch. “Yeah, neat. A little raw, but a lot of potential.”

They were laser-focused on him, but he couldn’t afford to scare the freshmen off now, not when Hellfire had two, three if you counted Sinclair, recruits who were really fucking into the game. 

Worthy apprentices, at last. Kids who could carry Hellfire forward and make sure it didn’t die next year, with only Gareth left. Cause, goddamn it, Eddie had gone through his last first day at the monkey house that was Hawkins High. There was no fourth shot at senior year, not when he’d be turning twenty in the spring, and the school board wouldn’t allow an adult over twenty to re-enroll. Three strikes and you’re out, Munson. Off the bench, out of the team, and a dozen other tired sports metaphors his old man would have used if he were here.

Gareth, Jeff and Chris were being weird. Quiet. Still . Watching Eddie as he packed up the DM’s board and pieces, gathering up his story notes and scoring sheets with a gentle tap, tap, tap of all the papers, fitting them inside the box neatly. The maps were a little smudged from Gareth spitting out all that coke, but he could let them dry out by the overworked little space heater in the trailer tonight, and trace fresh new ones this weekend.

“Well?” He snapped. “Are you gonna help pack up, or sit there like a bunch of drooling cave trolls?”

The rest of the guys were waiting for something to happen, but it was Gareth who broke first. He raised a single mocking eyebrow. “So are you planning a spring wedding? Or wanna cut to the chase, and ask her to elope to Vegas? I can see you in an Elvis jumpsuit.”

Eddie fidgeted, rings tapping against the table, mouth twitching. Keep it together.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Gareth,” he denied casually, shrugging on his leather jacket and battle vest. Armour donned, shields up, ready to deny, deny, deny. “If you really don’t want her to join we can work something out, but I think she’s like us...I think she needs this.”

More raised eyebrows from the older guys. 

A girl called out; Eddie’s heart skipped, but it was merely Wheeler’s big sister, the prissy one who ran the paper. Dustin and Mike threw together their stuff in record time, completely whipped by the voice in the hall.

“That’s Nancy,” Mike explained. “See you guys on Monday.”

“Great campaign, Dungeon Master,” Dustin saluted him at the door, over his ‘Thinking Cap’ , before disappearing into the night.

They really were good kids. It had only been three weeks since he spotted Dustin roaming the cafeteria in his Weird Al shirt, scoping the tables and cliques who sat at them, searching for his own place in the school ecosystem. Eddie had offered them shelter at the freak table, sensing kindred spirits. There was something about Dustin and Mike, they completely owned their nerdiness, in a mature way freshman Eddie had definitely lacked. Lucas was different; sure, he was great at D&D and clearly had a tight friendship with the other freshies, but he was a little less comfortable owning it. He’d watch the jocks table with envy, wince every time someone threw a joke or an insult Hellfire’s way. 

Gareth, Jeff and Chris? They’d been playing together for years. Greatest friends he had in Hawkins, or at all , now that his childhood best friend Ronnie was in the Big Apple, her book smarts earning her a place at NYU after their first senior year. Her Granny Ecker still lived in the trailer behind Eddie and his Uncle Wayne’s. They were stuck together like magnets once, but now their polarity was reversed, distance growing with each phone call; Ronnie talking about law school and all the excitement of living in Brooklyn, Eddie chiming in every now and then with a new campaign plan, the latest class he was failing, the same old crap she had left behind a year and a half ago. Poles apart. Damn, he must have paid attention in Mr Kaminski’s physics class to remember that shit. Either that, or Henderson’s insanely smart brain was rubbing off after barely a month.

But Gareth, Jeff and Chris weren’t just Hellfire, they were Corroded Coffin too. Hours at Hellfire and even more hours practising in Gareth’s garage brought them pretty close, close enough for Eddie to know they were not going to let this go, not without giving him shit about it.

Chris shook his head. “ I couldn’t pull off what you just did in a hundred years. Talking to girls one on one is...kind of my kryptonite. How do you do it, man?”

“Do what, huh?” He fired back quickly. “Make a new potential member welcome to the group?”

Gareth chuckled mercilessly, dropping his voice to imitate Eddie. “You’re good most of the time, but you can also be very bad if you want to be... I don’t recall you saying that stuff to Wheeler or Henderson, or any of us when we joined. And you definitely didn’t call us fairer than the sunrise over the Greypeak mountains .”

Eddie placed the D&D box gently back on the table, and his composure broke. He collapsed forward onto his forearms, shaggy hair shielding him from his friends and their judgement. Hidden, he could give voice to the chaotic new thoughts swirling in his already-chaotic brain. 

“Shit. Jesus H. Christ. I came on too strong. I came on too strong, right? Did I just make myself out to be a grade-A asshole? I...uh...I know i’m lacking an off switch most of the time, but was it too much? Was I bad?”

Gareth wouldn’t let it lie. His face was smug - okay, Eddie couldn’t actually see his face, but he could feel it in his voice, in his friend's aura. “Bad at what ? Say it, Eds. Come on.”

Eddie burrowed deeper into the table, voice muffled beneath all that hair. “Perhaps, maybe, it could be possible that I like the fair maiden Rose. In a...more than platonic way.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Gareth said, matter-of-fact. “It was obvious.”

Eddie sighed like it was the end of the world. “Let me just crawl away and die. Better yet, put me out of my misery, crack me over the head with that goblet. Lights out, goodnight. Nice to have known you. Jeff, you can have my Warlock. Chris, I bequeath to you my tapes and posters. Gareth, you little shit, you get nothing, not even the dirty magazines under my bed. Bury me in my battle vest. Wayne will have to make peace with my untimely death.”

“This is dramatic, even for you,” Chris gave his verdict. “It’s just a girl. I’ve seen you talk to girls before, after gigs and stuff.”

Just a girl. Sure. Just a girl whose smile lit up the room like the fourth of fucking July, fireworks spinning in his head, fizzing in his ears. Who used Lord of the Rings analogies to adorably find her place in the world. A girl who laughed at Dustin’s goofy jokes, threw herself into D&D without judgement or hesitation, totally giving herself over to the adventure. A girl who wasn’t cheerleader-pretty, but timelessly beautiful, like she should be in a fancy laced-up gown on the cover of Granny Ecker’s historical romance novels, the ones that always seemed to have a shirtless guy wearing a kilt. 

He didn’t just have butterflies in his stomach, it was like a horde of winged demons were trying to claw their way out. Brain not yet caught up, body trying to give him a warning. Girls like that don’t wind up with Eddie the Freak, resident of Hawkins’ finest trailer park, the friendly neighbourhood drug dealer. 

Gareth turned to Chris. “So how lame was he, on a scale of one to ten?”

“I thought it was kind of suave,” Chris replied, shrugging on his own leather jacket. “Like James Bond.”

“Oh, come on! Double-oh-seven has a little less verbal diarrhoea than our DM. And far cooler cars and gadgets.”

They bickered back and forth as Eddie waded in his own misery, replaying the whole campaign and how she’d reacted to it. She was nervous, yeah, but she got into it. Great improv skills.

“She likes you back, by the way.” Jeff added nonchalantly. 

Eddie’s head snapped up. “Oh, right, cause you can read minds now.”

Jeff kicked Eddie under the table. “I have three sisters, so yeah, I have insider intel into the female species. She looked at you like Tara looks at Michael Jackson when Thriller comes on MTV.”

Chris’s mouth drops open. “Ew, like the werewolf part? I guess Eddie has a lot of hair.”

“No, dude,” Jeff replies. “The normal part with the girlfriend at the movies, before he turns. Okay, after he turns too. Women are a complicated species, Chris. They’re into all sorts of weird stuff.”

A switch had fried in Eddie’s brain. “Which means?”

“Weird stuff? Like vampires and-”

“No, Jeff!” Eddie launched out off the table and grabbed him by the shoulders. “The look your sister has for Michael Jackson. What does the look mean?!”

Jeff gritted his teeth, like it physically pained him to talk about his irritating older sister, who he heard just moved to college somewhere in Georgia. “It means Rose was all blushing and smiling, hung on your every word. I’m not saying she’s crushing on you, but she isn’t not crushing on you, if you know what i’m saying.”

She didn’t not like him. That’s only one step away from actually liking him. And liking him was just one step away from a hangout, a date, maybe even move in for a kiss - and now all he could picture was her lips. Seriously good lips. Full, cupid’s bow, beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. So pretty when she smiled. Hope flared his heart, like those electric paddle-thingys had just jolted him back to life.

“I knew it,” Eddie said.

Gareth wasn’t convinced. “Weren’t you just doubting yourself?”

“Munson magic,” Eddie ignored him, swooping round the table, Reeboks tapping on the linoleum, moving to the music in his own heart. “Eddie the Bard worked on his charisma for so long, it had to pay off eventually. Ability off the charts...I got it, man. I got the Munson magic.”

Jeff stepped out of his way and almost tripped, looking over at the costume rack in the corner. “There’s something i’ve got to tell you, but first you have to promise any of this isn’t going to make Hellfire weird.”

Eddie crossed his fingers over his heart. “I will not bring girl drama to Hellfire. I promise on my wicked, hellbound soul. Now tell me!”

Jeff tipped his chin toward something in the pink taffeta dress dominating the costume rack, a chunky silver rectangle, with a cord snaking out the top. “Cinderella left her slipper behind. You might wanna give it back to her on Monday, Prince Charming.”

Eddie gasped dramatically, hand slapped to his chest. “A walkman. Rose’s walkman.”

He was over there in a shot, tripping over the costumes, slamming onto his knees by the precious object. He picked it up gingerly; there was nothing remarkable about the lump of plastic, nothing to tell him more about its owner. But what lay inside tempted him beyond belief. He clicked the button, popped open the top of the cassette holder, and inspected its contents. There were no printed stickers on the black cassette tape, only the faint shadow of a permanent marker on the clear part: Study mix.

“Holy shit, it's a mixtape,” he half-squealed at the guys. He felt like a prospector striking gold, nuggets sparkling in his hands. Scraps of information, carefully chosen slices of her mind for him to study. An introduction to the music that makes her tick. And music was the heart of everything, a window into the mind.

“You know who gives out mixtapes? Boyfriends.” Gareth, that goddamn contrarian, said sarcastically.

Eddie pointed at him, skull ring sparking in the light of the now-stubby melting candles. “That’s it, you're out Emerson. Expelled from Hellfire.”

Gareth spread his arms wide, face scrunched up and ready for a fight. “What the fuck? You just said-”

“I’m kidding, i’m kidding,” Eddie interrupted quickly, “Besides, she’s just moved, she knows nobody. I don’t think it's a boyfriend. If she has one back in England...well that would suck, but long distance doesn’t exactly work out for most people, does it?”

“Real classy, Munson,” Gareth shot back.

“Cool it, Gareth. I just wanna talk to her some more, get to know her. No need to invent drama that doesn’t exist.”

“Whatever,” Gareth shrugged. “Are you still okay to give me a ride home?”

“Of course, man. Gotta pay you back for using your garage as our practice room. I need your opinion on some potential W.A.S.P covers for our next set at The Hideout, we can talk about it on the way home.”

That perked Gareth right up. Eddie might have new apprentices, but Gareth was the first freshman he’d sheltered under his tattooed, scrawny wing when Carver and his jock squad singled him out for a beating a couple of years ago. Hobbits have got to stick together, and when they fought together, there was nothing they couldn’t take on, be it a cave troll, Jason Carver, or the disdain and fear of the entire small-minded town.

Still, Eddie slipped the walkman into the pocket of his jacket, and every now and then he would slip his hand in and touch it, just to make sure it wasn’t a fever dream after all.

---

Forest Hills Trailer Park was never quiet, not even on a Friday night. Eddie’s van skittered into the makeshift parking space by the trailer he shared with Uncle Wayne; the whirring engine and glam metal notes of W.A.S.P disappeared as he cut off the engine, and the dusky September night was filled with dogs barking, a screaming match between the couple in the RV round the corner, and a dog chained up somewhere near the forest edge. God knows it wasn’t the finely manicured neighbourhood of Loch Nora, or even the more modest single storey ranch homes that made up most of Hawkins, but it was home.

Eddie launched up the steps and flapped open the door, humming Love Child under his breath and tapping it on his thigh. His battle vest and jacket were thrown onto the wall hook, and he made a quick sweep of the fridge; the remains of the tuna casserole Granny Ecker brought over on Monday were looking a little sad and dried, and Eddie could not be bothered to cook up the eggs and bacon. He grabbed a can of Miller Lite and an apple, and slammed the door shut.

“Now I know your momma didn’t raise you to be a savage, Eddie Munson. Softer next time, please.” A southern drawl came from the corner of the room.

“Holy fuck!” Eddie’s arms flailed about, catching the Miller Lite mid air and dropping the apple on the patterned carpet.

“She didn’t teach you to cuss, neither,” Uncle Wayne muttered from his recliner chair, peering over the paper, lit by a cosy lamp. The trailer was so busy with mugs and hats Wayne had picked up on the road in his truck driver days that he went unnoticed amongst the clutter.

“You’re scaring the life outta me, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie laughed nervously. “It’s Friday, shouldn’t you be at the plant?”

Wayne watched the apple roll across the floor, scooping down to pick it up when it got close. “I swapped shifts with Carl so he can see his granddaughter’s ballet recital next week. Taking a Tuesday shift instead. I was gonna head out to the country bar in Carterville with a couple of old buddies but they came down with the stomach flu, so you’ll have to put up with your old uncle tonight.”

“You’re...uh...you’re no trouble Uncle Wayne. It’s me that you’ve gotta put up with.” Eddie said glumly, catching sight of the pullout bed in the corner of the living room. “I can go out for a while if you want some peace.”

That pullout bed was a squishy, metal-framed reminder that his uncle had given up his bedroom and his freedom full time after the incident a couple of years ago that led to Eddie’s childhood home going up in flames, and his ex-con of a father - okay, definitely still a con - fleeing town. Even before then, when his dad was in the drunk tank or on a bender somewhere Eddie would be left alone for days or weeks, rescued by Uncle Wayne and taken back to the unlikely safe haven of the trailer park for a while. His uncle's unconditional love and endless patience got Eddie through a clusterfuck of a childhood. He’d never be able to thank him enough for it. Guilt remained, even after he started dealing to bring in some money to help keep the dilapidated home together, and ensure he could pay for his own clothes and van, lifting some of the burden of raising a kid you didn’t even ask for.

“Hey now,” Wayne dropped his paper on the side table and fixed Eddie with a serious look. “I ain’t trying to drive you out. Trailers’ not exactly a palace, but there’s enough room for the two of us. There somethin’ on your mind, son?”

Uncle Wayne motioned for Eddie to sit on the couch next to him, so he kicked off his Reeboks and collapsed in the seat, cracking open the Miller Lite and reclining in silence as he took the first foamy hit of it, yeasty and soothing on his tongue. His uncle lit up a Marlboro Red, tip flaring orange red in the dim trailer.

“Do you think i’m like Dad?” Eddie said, looking absentmindedly at the ceiling with its numerous water and tobacco stains.

He hummed thoughtfully. “What makes you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just...I’ve been thinking about him lately. The way he is with people. He’s an asshole, goes without saying. But he’s got that charm about him, something people are drawn to. I guess I think I had something similar, but I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to hurt people the way he does.”

“Ed,” Wayne says softly, leaning on the arm of his chair. “Al Munson might be able to charm the birds from the trees, but it's a shallow kind of charming. Scrubs off real quick, and by the time people realise what my brother’s truly like, he’s split town and left behind a trail of gambling debts and broken hearts. That included you and your momma more than once, bless her soul. You might have his charm, Eddie, but yours ain’t shallow. It runs deep,” Wayne smiled a crooked smile, etched deep into his weathered skin. “Plus, Al had a receding hairline, and you’ve got a hell of a head of hair. Needs a cut, though. Startin’ to look like a shaggy dog.”

Eddie bit back a smile, touched more than he could say. “Don’t mess with the hair. I’m like Samson, it holds all my power.”

“No, son. That’s all in here,” Wayne taps the space on his plaid-covered chest, right over his heart. 

Eddie dips his head. “Don’t go soft on me, old man.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He sipped his beer, sitting quiet and peaceful as Wayne put on some Western on the little TV by the door. Gunslingers chased each other across the desert, or ran after a runaway train, Eddie wasn’t really focused on movie detail, instead just basking in quiet, comfortable companionship. Wayne asked nothing of him, and that was what made him want to open up.

“There’s a girl,” Eddie ventured, twisting the metal can around in his hands. 

“Is that so?”

“It’s nothing. Stupid, really. But it’s got me thinking about dad, and life and repeating senior year, and...everything.”

“That’s heavy.”

“Yup,” Eddie agreed, draining the can in one last swig.

Wayne cleared his throat politely. “You gonna be bringing this girl around sometime?”

“Woah, hit the brakes, Uncle Wayne. I’ve only known her for about three hours. It was a good three hours though, you should have seen me. I was smooth. She said I made her first day in American high school bloody lovely. ”

Wayne twisted around to face Eddie. “Your girl. She new in town, moved over from England by any chance?”

“How’d you guess?”

A dark shadow passed over his uncle’s face, mouth pressed into a line, eyes narrowed. “Her stepdad is Jerry Gruber, we used to run around in the same group as kids. You’d remember him, he used to head up the engineering office for the plant, left back in ‘81 to work for the Department for Energy. Got himself a job in Europe after that, and a wife and stepdaughter too. Came back last month.”

Eddie’s brows creased; she’d spoken about a stepdad, but he didn’t clock the name at the time. “Yeah, that fits. She said as much.”

“Listen,” Wayne leaned in, voice deep and rumbling. “Jerry bought the old Creel house on Morehead. He’s more foolish than I ever thought...that place ain’t right, Eddie. The only thing that came outta the Creel place is pure evil, and Hawkins ain’t a normal town, no matter how everybody here turns a blind eye to things. I don’t care if you’re sweet on this girl, promise you won’t go there.”

Jesus H. Christ. That place was notorious in Hawkins, a genuine murder house boarded up for years after some gruesome shit went down when he was a little kid. Every middle schooler had been dared to go up to that place and face the ghosts inside, Eddie included. But all that demonic stuff was bullshit. Nothing there but empty rooms, broken glass, and a metric fuck ton of dust. He didn’t even know the place had been sold. He tried to imagine Rose living in a gothic murder mansion, and came up short.

“Have you found my stash, or something? You’re not making sense, unc-”

Wayne grabbed his wrist. “Promise me, son. Promise me you won’t go to that fuckin’ house.”

Wayne didn’t cuss, and he was not physical, not even when Eddie was at his worst. “Alright, Uncle Wayne. I won’t.”

“You mean it?” “I swear on my Warlock,” he added quickly, raising his free hand up, palm splayed wide. “That place is straight out of a slasher movie. No desire to go there.”

“Good,” Wayne gruffed, as he let go. “I’m sorry, son. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie rubbed his wrist. The man’s grip was surprisingly strong, but then he did manual labour at the plant, not some cosy office job. “Don’t sweat it.”

“And Eddie, don’t get caught up in your head with the girl. A bit of that Munson magic does a whole lotta good, son, when it's coming from you . Don’t let anybody tell you that you’re not good enough. Including yourself.”

Eddie scoffed and zoned back in on the TV, cogs whirring like overtime; his uncle had gone back to the paper, totally normal. That was weird...Wayne wasn’t superstitious. He’d probably watched a few too many horror movies. It was nearly that time of year; Halloween coming up, tacky plastic decorations in the window of Melvald’s General Store, leaves crispy and golden. Something in the air, maybe.

An orchestra swelled as the shootout in the western movie reached its peak. The rogue gunslinger got the bad guy, and something about the music clicked in his brain; he’d almost forgotten about the walkman tucked in his jacket. 

Eddie pushed to his feet and crushed the beer can, tossing it in the trash can with a clatter. He padded over to the coat hook, socked feet slipping on the kitchen lino, eager hands pulling the walkman out of the jacket pocket, tapping his fingers against the plastic.

“I gotta go study,” he explained to Wayne. 

His uncle’s face had never looked so confused. “Homework on a Friday night. Are you sick again, comin’ down with a fever? We ain’t got no tylenol, but I can go out to the seven-eleven and get some.”

“I’m sick alright. But the diagnosis is looking good, Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne gawped. “What the hell are you studying, biology?”

He grabbed another beer on the way to his room, shutting the refrigerator door softly this time, little headphones and walkman clutched tight to his chest. He gave his uncle a classic Eddie wild grin. “Music 101: Intro to Fair Maidens.”

[samkuren01]

A real estate agent plays a pivotal role in different aspects related to buying or selling properties. Mortgages are no other! With an in-depth understanding of the market, these professionals navigate the complexities of mortgage processes, utilizing their expertise to assist buyers in securing optimal mortgage deals and aiding sellers in maximizing the value of their properties.

[homosociallyyours]

It's been a minute since we've talked about this but I would love to read a fic from you in the Selling Sunset universe!

HI HI HI

thank you for this!!!

I can't tell you how I squealed when I read this idea!!! The office intrigues!!

I picture Harry throwing the most elaborate, over the top open houses: Veuve with a View-- Veuve Cliquot and caviar at her 6.5 million dollar listing in the Hills; the Baller's Ball-- a black tie masked ball style open house in the 22 million dollar former home of a former NBA legend. She's at the top of her game until the return of one of the most successful realtors in the history of the Oppenheim group returns.

Louis Tomlinson is no nonsense and no frills, with less fanfare in her open houses. But somehow she manages to close every. damn. deal. It's probably her stupid sexy British accent or something, Harry isn't sure.

At first Harry talks shit behind Louis' back in an attempt to get the other women to dislike her, but unfortunately it keeps not working out. Finally Louis corners her after a big party celebrating the new office renovations being completed. They're out on the street, Louis having followed Harry to her car because she's' determined to get this settled between them.

--

Harry felt the sweat starting to gather between her breasts in the muggy August evening, vaguely wishing she hadn't left the coolness of the air conditioned building without making sure Louis was gone first. Not that she could've predicted Louis would choose this moment to have a showdown with her. All she wanted was to get in her car and drive home with the windows down, nothing but the sound of the wind rushing in her ears to keep her company.

"Are you even listening to me?" Louis asked, arms crossed in front of her. They pushed her natural breasts up enough to draw Harry's eyes to her cleavage momentarily as she tuned back in.

"Yes," Harry scoffed. "You asked what my problem is."

"And?"

Harry watched a bead of sweat roll down Louis' neck, snaking its way down into her cleavage. She huffed, frustrated at Louis forcing her hand like this.

"Should I take my shirt off, or are you enjoying the view enough as is?" Harry jerked her gaze up to find Louis smirking back at her, blue eyes practically dancing with mirth.

"I wasn't-- I just--" Harry sputtered, wondering how to pull back some control. "I'm not a lesbian."

"Neither am I," Louis said, shrugging. She moved toward Harry, reaching out to touch her wrist. "Does it matter?" Harry couldn't formulate a response, her brain going offline with Louis' proximity. "I'd rather we fuck this stupid tension out now than let it turn into something worse a few months from now."

A million questions crackled and popped through Harry's mind, synapses firing that she'd never imagined existed. How would another woman taste? Feel? Would she be dominant? Submissive? Both and neither at once? Had Louis done this before? Was this a joke or a mind game, or--

Louis' hand moved to her waist and Harry's mind stopped. Her heart racing, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Come home with me."

----

They are end game obviously and in my dreams they actually leave the O group and move to the UK to start their own brokerage together! Love wins :)

Send me a summary of a fic you wish I would write if you want!! (or just reblog the post for yourself)

[maleyanderecafe]

I'm recently entering the world of yanderes men in games, and I started with John doe! Then I played house hunted. But, there are two endings where John doe knows you, do you know which one is canonical?

Oh boy, okay. While I have played John Doe and John Doe+, I never really went into their other games (besides Frost Bite) so I decided to play the two House Hunted games and hoo boy, they are interesting. The first one leans more into horror and what the creatures of House Hunted is while the other one is more of an April Fools one that tells a lot more about John Doe, though I think overall that one is much more fleshed out. I'll go over brief summaries of the two games for House Hunted though before giving my opinion.

House Hunted (the first one) starts out with you going to a city to live at an apartment. After wandering around, eating at a cafe or going straight to the apartment, you are stopped by one Maison Talos, the number one realtor who wants to sell you a house. You decline of course as you already have an apartment. However, upon going there, you find that your apartment is locked and after calling the company find out there's been some trouble so they either need to find a hotel or wait until they can unlock it. From there you can either wander around until you can get back in or meet with Maison. If you decide to go into the house, you find that Maison Talos is actually the house itself, luring you in to eat you. The body he presents is really just a shell used to lure people like you into the house. We find also that the town is actually full of realtors like himself who lure unsuspecting people in to eat them. If you do manage to survive by not going into the house, John Doe ends up spotting you. It's also mentioned that you are starting your job at the gas station tomorrow if you do survive.

The second House Hunted game follows a similar thread of you going to a new town and getting locked out of your apartment, but now with new characters. The realtor that tries to get you to a house is named Heim Baile, but unlike Maison is much more incompetent. You pretty much can tell he's really shady and he doesn't do a good job to hide that he's not a person (considering you can see his cord behind him), but unlike Maison, if you do visit his house, he will actually let you live and watch TV with you, even if you insult him. In one ending, he even asks you out on a date, which is cute. We also meet the mayor's assistant as well as a divorced salary man. The main attraction that we're here for is John Doe of course, as we spot what looks like a cat in the town center. Following it will reveal it's not a cat but rather a black furball with a single eye. He ends up transforming to his human self, except messing up his eye, making him look more like a cyclops. He seems really eager to meet you again despite you not remembering him, and seems to be trying his best to act human despite the obvious one eye. He seems very energetic and is happy hoping to meet you again in the future.

To be honest, I think this might be one of those games that puts John Doe as an easter egg, either in an AU type of way or in the look at my other games kind of way considering that there are also cameos from other games in this one as well (specifically the second one). However, if I were going to be more technical about it, I think that they would both be cannon, and it does make sense for John Doe. In John Doe+ we do find out that John Doe does have the ability to not only make you repeat the same day without any memory of the previous loop, but also change the perception of reality, as he can change his appearance to be more friendly. So it's not a big stretch to think that in both House Hunted worlds, that you is just experiencing the same day over and over again, which is why John Doe might remember them and they don't remember him. That's all just speculation and slightly based off of this collection of twitter posts relating to John Doe lore, but it is confirmed that House Hunted games are supposed to come before the John Doe games, so he has known you for quite a while.

If anyone can find anything on which one is actually canon, that would be nice too! John Doe is really cute in this game and so is Heim in a more awkward pathetic but still a good mannered guy kind of way.

[findingmypeace]

I have SO many updates. After this, someone sent me an ask and I'm going to use that to explain why I was scared the other day. And that will be all my updates, lol.

So once again I'm probably going to have to move. A week ago my landlord came over and informed me that she and her husband will be selling this condo. In the last week there has been a staging, and time for other realtors to tour the place, and an open house. I haven't worried too much about it because A)my place downstairs is STILL vacant and my landlord doesn't think it will sell fast due to the upcoming election. This is frustrating because it gives me no timeline for me to know when I need to leave. When there was all the drama with my ex-roommate I did find a few available 1 bed/1bath (which is all I really need) that are really nice and reasonably priced. I need to talk to my landlord to get a better idea of a timeline. She said they may even change their mind about selling. To me, it sounded like she was trying to play it down so I wouldn't be so upset. These are such nice condos. I don't want to move. Ugh.

*Work is wonderful! The difference between a year ago and now is incredible. In the last month I have received positive feedback multiple times. It feels so amazing and boosts my self-esteem. My imposter syndrome is fading. I've always said words of affirmation is my love language and this proves it. (For newer followers the ‘words of affirmation’ was a big deal because I said that is my love language and would be helpful for me. The response I got was essentially ‘we don’t do that here’. Less than a month later our executive director gives a presentation on using love languages to work more effectively. I walked out. Here we are, a year later, and it feels like I was proven right.) It's so nice to feel that my coworkers see me as competent. Almost a year ago I received a written warning about my time management skills and I was being treated like shit by upper management. And now I'm receiving praise and being recognized for my work. It makes me feel appreciated.

[millerflintstone]

So I have a fair amount of packing of my crap left along with some general house packing (the laundry area, linens, the rest of the kitchen) and odds and ends. Work has of course been busy so I haven't been able to do much during the day. Unfriendly is en route to NM, so I'm on my own for this piece. My plan is to take advantage of my night owl nature and do a lot of it Friday night into Saturday morning. I don't have to worry about waking up Unfriendly and can just let the hyper focus kick in.

Earlier this afternoon, I got a request from the buyers through our realtor asking if they could come by at 11:00 a.m. on Saturday to do some measurements. They were also wondering if we still had leftover floor and backsplash tile from when we did the kitchen. I'm guessing they're probably doing some type of color scheme matching for draperies or who knows what. But, wow I did get irrationally put out. My plan is to wake up whenever my body tells me to when I collapse on Friday.

Unfriendly sent me a voice note to calm me down. I don't know if I have pathological demand avoidance based on how it's described, but I really don't like getting thrown for a loop when I have a plan in place. I gave my realtor some alternative time blocks for the weekend and explained what was going on and that I'd be here while they measure. I also asked if he could find out what areas they were looking to measure so I could make sure they were reasonably accessible. No word back yet.

I also can't quite get to the tile because of the mountain of boxes in the way in the garage at the moment.

I wasn't quite sure how common this type of a request is since I'm certainly not well-versed in selling a house. I asked our realtor, and he said that it's not unusual but also that I'm not obligated to comply with the request.

Houzz and reddit forums had a variety of situations from the buyers pulling some last minute shenanigans at closing because of things they found while "measuring". But I think in these cases the house inspection had been waived by the buyers. Some people just used it as an excuse to see the house again and show it off to family members. Other people said that they had made similar requests when they were buying a house but that they legitimately needed to make measurements for furniture or replacing flooring. A lot of these people had pretty long closing periods and wanted to order stuff ahead of time, so who knows.

I'm peopling deficient!

[offical-ouroboros]

Okay as a idea of mine

Hiem x realtor reader HCs? I think it would be actually cute or atleast interesting :3

YESYEYSYEYSYYSYEYSYEDYEYSYEYYSYS

~♡

Heim Baile x REALTOR!Reader HCs

CW: Mentions of reproducing curiosity, cute date idea: murder

※ Depending on how good you are at your job, he probably doesn't even recognize you're like him!

"Hey there, pal! I'd like to sell you a house!"

※ You give him a dumbfounded look. Counterspell.

"I'd like to sell you a house."

" . . . What?"

※ You pull out your own card- It's definitely better than his, which isn't hard to do.

"You. REALTOR."

※ Putting two and two together, he realises his mistake.

※ He's embarrassed, looking away with an awkward smile.

"Eheheh... Sorry about that."

※ You both probably get over it soon, introduce each other to your house, and things blossom from there.

※ He'll find whatever seasonal look your lure has adorable! Or cool. Or whatever you'd like them to be!

※ Most of your dates occur outside- I imagine it's a bit strange being inside another REALTOR...

※ You can hunt newcomers together! He's not as interested in eating people... But, if you are, he'll definitely help out!

※ He likes going out to eat with you!

※ Well... Going out, looking at each other longingly over food, flirting, and taking your meals to go so you can actually eat them at home.

"One of my clients dropped this earlier... Doesn't this place look cute?"

※ He does like it when you go over to each other- Take turns letting your lures rest while the other cuddles up in their lap.

※ Its a nice way to just relax and get intimate at the same time.

※ Speaking of, as a pollinator, he can't help but be curious...

※ Could you... Have kids with him?

※ It doesn't matter what gender your lure presents as, the house of your real body can be anything.

※ If you can, then excuse his enthusiasm, but he might end up asking if you'd like to commit to it. REALTORs grow up fast, and they don't really need any parents.

※ But... He's heard quite a few creatures in the UCV do that to further a relationship, and maybe...

※ He won't pressure you into anything. He doesn't care if you don't want to. He was just curious.

※ And, if you can't, there's still a chance he asks anyways. He's not the smartest! I doubt there's classes on REALTOR reproducing anyways.

※ Whatever you choose, he'll still love you all the same.