#instead of wasting time in the basement for no reason and not getting to see a tornado

[failingcollege]

That post going around talking about the different between a tornado watch and warning, but as a certified midwesterner I assure they both mean go outside and see if you can see a tornado.

[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace. 

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here. 

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words? 

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid. 

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say. 

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never - 

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole  -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you. 

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips. 

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods. 

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting.  You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[messedupfan]

Chapter 18

Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.

A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen. 

“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life. 

You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest. 

“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out. 

“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room. 

“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.” 

You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.” 

“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much. 

“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus. 

You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile. 

Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?” 

You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”

She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”

You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.” 

Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.” 

Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”

Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!” 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.

Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with. 

When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much. 

She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself. 

As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs. 

She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch? 

She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips. 

You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”

“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says. 

“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?” 

“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that. 

“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles. 

“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?

“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies. 

“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.” 

“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.” 

“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.

Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says. 

“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.” 

“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that. 

“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.” 

Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.” 

Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”

Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.” 

As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early. 

“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.” 

You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off. 

“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa. 

Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.” 

You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.” 

You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?”  You ask softly as her shoulders shake. 

She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says. 

You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication. 

“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time. 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect. 

Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —” 

“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—” 

“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye. 

“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest. 

Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently. 

“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully. 

You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her. 

You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall.  You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–” 

“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes. 

Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it. 

“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away. 

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her. 

“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight. 

“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open. 

You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking. 

You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to. 

Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.

When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp. 

You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep. 

The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart. 

“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile. 

“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing. 

“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.” 

You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling. 

“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.” 

Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.” 

Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!” 

You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.” 

Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.” 

You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh. 

“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork. 

When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name. 

“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car. 

“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her. 

“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet. 

“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.” 

“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.” 

“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist. 

“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?” 

You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”

Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.” 

You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?” 

Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.” 

“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you. 

“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today. 

Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation. 

You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds. 

You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel. 

Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her. 

Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been? 

“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock. 

“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head. 

“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck. 

“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her. 

“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease. 

“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen. 

“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her. 

Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.” 

“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?” 

“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive. 

“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”

“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light. 

When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head. 

“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day. 

Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper. 

Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt —  no, feel. 

Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into  Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down. 

“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see. 

After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands. 

You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words,  “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and,  “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends. 

After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.

Chapter 19

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm

[cosmicjoke]

Further thoughts on Levi's Admiration for Erwin:

So just to expanded and clarify a bit on my last analysis post, it isn't that Levi admired Erwin for having a lack of humanity, rather, it's that Levi admired Erwin for not allowing his humanity to deter him from doing what needed to be done for humanity's salvation.

But the truth is, Levi believed Erwin had a great deal of humanity in him. Levi believed that humanity was Erwin's reason for setting it aside in the first place, to help humanity, to save humanity, etc... To take on the burden of monstrous acts in order to help others.

It's why Levi is so shocked and dismayed when Hange tells them that Titans are actually human beings, and Levi sees Erwin smiling. That reaction doesn't compute with what he believes about Erwin. It's the first sign for Levi that the humanity he believes is underpinning Erwin's actions isn't as strong as he previously thought, and that fear is later seemingly confirmed for him when he confronts Erwin about it by asking him if seeing what's in Eren's basement, if being there to see it, is more important to him than humanity's victory, and Erwin admits that yes, it is.

That answer shatters Levi's entire view about who Erwin is and sends him, for a time, into a spiral of his own self-doubt, wondering if he's made the right choice in following a man who would put his own, selfish desires above the people he's sworn to protect. Wondering if all those lives Erwin sacrificed were really for a selfish dream, rather than the betterment of humanity.

I think Levi feared, up to the point Erwin told him his plan to take down the Beast Titan, that he'd been following a man who didn't have any humanity in him at all. A man who didn't care about or feel anything for the lives of the soldiers he commanded. I think this is why you see Levi being so snippy with Erwin throughout the battle in Shinganshina. He still believes Erwin is a great leader and visionary, but he doubts now whether Erwin is a good man.

This fear in Levi is finally assuaged when Erwin confesses to him the immense guilt he feels, about his own fear that he's let down and wasted every life under his command, given in service of humanity. Levi is shown, at last, that despite Erwin's selfishness and the underlying, selfish dream motivating his leadership and actions, he does, still, very much care about the people around him and does, indeed, have that deep well of humanity Levi had always believed him to have. Erwin's crushing guilt is the evidence of that. Levi believed before that Erwin was free of guilt, even in suppressing his humanity, because it was done for a worthy cause, for the betterment of all people. He sees in that moment that Erwin is instead overwhelmed and being torn apart by his guilt, precisely because he suppressed his humanity for something lesser. Again, that in itself, that guilt, is the proof of Erwin's humanity.

People like to compare Erwin and Zeke a lot, and talk about how both of them were willing to sacrifice the lives of others to accomplish their personal dream, and how hard that must have been for Levi, to see so may similarities between Erwin and Zeke, and to reconcile his loyalty to Erwin and his belief in Erwin when he sees many of the same qualities in a man he hates.

But there's a fundamental difference between Erwin and Zeke that I don't think people often consider, and again, it comes down to humanity.

Levi despises Zeke so much because he perceives an actual lack of humanity in him. Not an ability to set his humanity aside for some goal, like Erwin, but an actual void of humanity. Zeke shows no remorse, no guilt, no regret, no sorrow over the lives he's used and taken to advance his cause. The reason Levi questions Zeke so persistently in the forest about his actions in Ragako Village is because he's trying to glean if there's any sense of guilt or remorse in him at all for the lives he took. There is none. All Levi gets from Zeke for his questioning is more deception and indifference. I think this is also why Levi made the remarks he did to Zeke about his grandparents, and also about Gabi and Falco. He was trying to see if anything he said, any threat he made, would appeal to Zeke's humanity. But, at each turn, he was met with, again, indifference and deception, with no sign at all of genuine feeling.

The main difference between Erwin and Zeke is that Zeke is a narcissist and a sociopath. He doesn't care about the lives of the people he's used and killed. He sees them as tools and nothing beyond that. He quite literally sees their lives as worthless, rooted in the belief that his own life is worthless. His narcissism renders him incapable of seeing anyone outside of himself, and thus, he projects his own beliefs about himself onto everyone else. Erwin, for all his faults, and despite using the soldiers under his command as tools to further a selfish dream, never viewed their lives as worthless or disposable. He saw them as more than tools. He saw them as people. That's why he's so crushed by guilt near the end. He feels he's failed them by having a selfish dream.

And that fundamental difference also manifests in what Erwin and Zeke are working to achieve, and reflects in Levi's willingness to follow Erwin while simultaneously loathing Zeke.

Erwin, as commander of the Survey Corps, was working to achieve freedom for humanity. Never mind what was truly motivating him. As commander of the SC, the goal was to achieve freedom for humanity, and that's why Levi chose to follow Erwin with such loyalty, because he believed Erwin was best qualified to achieve that goal. To help create a world in which people have the freedom to choose how they live, to be who they are, etc... That's deeply important to Levi, that people be allowed a choice. That's what's at the core of his monologue to the 104th during the Uprising arc.

Zeke, by stark contrast, was working to, quite literally, take freedom away from people. To rob them of any choice at all by ending their existence. Zeke had deluded himself into believing he was providing people a mercy by unburdening them from their lives. But what exposes this for a lie is that he made this decision without any consideration or input whatsoever from the people he was supposedly "saving". He decided for them that their lives were a burden that they should be freed from. He didn't ask if that was what they wanted because, ultimately, and at the heart of it, what they wanted didn't matter to Zeke, because they didn't matter to Zeke.

I find it almost hilarious when people claim that if Erwin had supported the Rumbling, Levi would have supported it too, or that if Erwin had been for wiping humanity beyond the walls out, Levi would have backed him up. They claim this because they think that Levi only ever cared about Erwin and was blindly loyal to him. That he would "compromise his morals" for Erwin because he just loved him that much.

People who claim that expose themselves for having the grossest lack of understanding about who Levi's character is, or Erwin's, for that matter, that I've ever seen.

We saw what happened when Levi began to fear that Erwin lacked humanity. We saw how his respect for him immediately began to erode, despite years of loyal service and trust, and his belief in him as a commander began to waver. How he began to doubt his own choices in following Erwin's lead. We saw the anger and pain that caused in Levi. His interactions with Erwin afterward became cold and bitter. Only when Erwin finally confessed to his guilt, and thus, showed his humanity, did we see Levi's attitude toward him soften again. Only then did Levi tell Erwin that he'd been a good leader and thanked him for getting them so far.

Expand out Levi's coldness and anger toward Erwin after beginning to doubt his humanity to a scenario in which Erwin not only showed a lack of humanity, but an actual, malicious intent toward people, taking action to purposefully end their lives or crush their hopes and dreams...

Then you get how Levi felt about and treated Zeke. Pure disgust and loathing.

Levi never would have chosen to follow Erwin, and never would have felt any sort of admiration or respect for him, if Erwin was in any way intentionally malicious or cruel, or if Erwin in any way lacked true feeling for others. Levi would have despised him the same way he despised Zeke. It's, in fact, why Levi wanted to kill Erwin when they first met. Because he did believe, at that point, that Erwin was inhumane and cruel, for the way he'd treated Levi and his friends. He believed that until Erwin convinced him otherwise through his monologue to him, after Furlan and Isabel were killed. It's why Levi kicks Eren's face in on the airship over Liberio. A sure way to win Levi's animosity and disdain is to show a lack of feeling for others. A lack of humanity.

Levi was never blindly loyal to Erwin and never would have compromised his morals for him. He believed in Erwin's humanity, and so he believed in his leadership, and that's why he followed him with so much trust. It had nothing to do with him being so in love with the man that he would sacrifice any and everything for him. That take is so reductive and childish, it's almost beyond belief that any, intelligent adult actually thinks it.

If Levi really believed Erwin was an unfeeling monster who wanted to actively destroy the lives of others, and actually posed a threat in that regard, he would have been the first to act in putting him down, whether he loved him or not. Just like Levi was the first to voice the reality that Eren was going to have to be killed, despite having been Levi's comrade and subordinate for the last five years, and despite Levi's feelings for him as a friend and comrade.

[littlemissaddict]

Tattoo's - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader gets her first tattoo much to Eddie's surprise.

Word Count: 1277

She didn’t hear the front door open, or Eddie announce his arrival home from work. She was in the bathroom focused on cleaning her new tattoo completely unaware of his presence until she caught sight of movement in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. “Eddie!” she smiled excitedly, spinning around to face him where he was now leaning against the door frame watching her with intrigue.

He chuckled slightly as he stepped towards her, “Now baby what’s gotten you so distracted that I didn’t get my proper welcome home” he teased, smiling down at her as she stood in front of him. He figured it must be something big as she couldn’t stand still, he could feel her excitement radiating from her as she swung her clasped hands in front of her all the while a grin spread across her face.

“Well…” she draws out, her eyes quickly glancing down, so quick that Eddie almost misses the movement but she speaks again before he can follow her gaze downwards. “You know how I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a while” is all she manages before he interrupts her.

“You didn’t” his eyes widened as she nodded at him, "Let me see, let me see" he pleaded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his excitement rivalled her own.

Holding out her arm, she watched him as his eyes followed the black tendrils of ink spanning across her forearm. His hands reached out to twist her arm slightly so that he could see from a different angle which she allowed seeing as his hands weren't actually touching the tender skin. Although the moment his hands moved to try and trace over the lines, she was quick to slap them away. "Nope not with your dirty, greasy mechanic hands" she scolded lightly, ignoring the pout that appeared on his plush lips, "I have to keep it clean so that I don't risk it getting infected" she informed him. It was something she assumed he knew considering the assortment of tattoos that littered his body and she was quick to point that out to him, "I just want it to heal properly like yours" she reasoned when he responded with a 'but baby'

Eddie snickered at that, "Yeah considering mine were done from a friend of a friend in Rick's basement it's a wonder they healed at all" he revealed, something she hadn't known before.

"Eddie it's your body, your life but it could get really dangerous if they'd have gotten infected" she urged. She'd heard all sorts of horror stories of people who had gotten ill from an infected tattoo so much so that they almost died, she shook the thought away, not willing to think of Eddie like that and instead opting just to look at him with wide eyes while she waited for his response.

"Yeah well when you short of cash you take your chances where you can" he shrugged as if it was nothing but he didn't miss the way her eyes grew comically larger at his nonchalance of the subject, "but I promise that's in the past, my last few have been from accredited tattooists in a proper parlour so you don't have to worry your pretty little head" he assured her, sealing it with a kiss to her forehead.

It had the desired effect and she relaxed at his words, though making a promise to herself to watch him closely when he inevitably got his next one. "I hope so mister" she spoke with a pointed glare his way, playfully prodding his chest with her finger, which he wasted no time in grabbing and tugging her close to him, causing her to squeal at the unexpected movement. “But can you do me a favour and help me wrap it?” she pouted up at him once the room had stilled..

A smirk grew on Eddie’s face as he, as usual, found an innuendo in everything. “Oh we’re wrapping it up now, I thought you liked it raw?” he teased, laughing as a choked sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp passed her lips as she placed her palm flat against his chest so she could push her body away from his.

“Un-fucking-believable” she scoffed turning her back to him, not that she could fool him as he had already seen the smile tugging at her lips, well that and he could see her reflection in the mirror now that she’d turned around.

Stepping forward, until his chest was pressed against her back, he slipped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, his warm breath tickling the skin as he spoke. “I’m only kidding baby,” followed by kisses up the column of her neck to just under her ear, “of course I’ll help you wrap it” he whispered against the shell of her ear before pulling away, chuckling to himself as her body tried to follow him. “Just gotta wash these dirty mechanic hands first” he spoke, repeating her earlier words back to her as he wiggled them in her face briefly and she scrunched her face up in response.

They were quiet as he washed his hands and she turned to get the wrap for her arm. Once his hands were dry, he took what he needed from her outstretched hands, his own working expertly to cut the wrap down to size and gently place it over the tender skin with ease before he secured it with a little tape so that it wouldn’t come off during the night.

“There all done” he pulled back to let her admire his handiwork and she whispered her thanks to him as her eyes remained cast down, still focused on her arm. Eddie reached out again, hands desperate to trace over the design, only this time she let him since there was no contact with her inked skin. “It really is beautiful, don't know how you managed to keep it a secret from me though” he laughed quietly, his eyes still focused on the black ink just like her.

“It was tough, I did want you there but then I didn’t want to tell people in case I chickened out last minute” she explained, a slight pout on her face as she did so.

Eddie nodded in understanding, a tattoo was a big commitment, something you had to be one hundred percent certain with considering it was on your body for the rest of your life. “Well I’m glad you didn’t, makes you look even more metal” he joked, sending a wink her way which made her laugh.

“Well that’s easy enough to do since the only thing metal about me is you” she spoke and he gasped in response.

“T’is not you are plenty metal” he argued as she shook her head which only caused him to rattle off a list of everything he believed made her the most metal person he knew. Smothering her in praise in the cramped bathroom of their shared trailer, in their own little bubble where they could be anything they wanted to as long as they had each other, something they both hoped would never change.

Eventually they moved to the couch in front of the old tv with bowls of boxed mac n cheese in their hands with the talk of future tattoos filling the space between them, which turned into future plans, which then finally turned into them falling asleep tangled with each other awkwardly on the couch in ways that would leave them aching in the morning but their hearts full in the present.

[golvio]

It was a bit of whiplash going from The Damsel to The Beast, particularly since the jumping off point I picked was stabbing her when she was gnawing her arm off (you very pointedly ignore that instead of recoiling in disgust to lock in Damsel or Witch). However...in retrospect, it kind of makes sense that the Damsel, Witch, and Beast routes can branch off of the same place.

All three routes deal with themes of dehumanization. Damsel is dehumanization through idealization, where she remains person-shaped, but loses a lot of what made her "her" in Chapter 1 in favor of being someone who could "make you happy." Witch is dehumanization through contempt or exploitation, where you either consciously betray her or just give up on her as soon as the Narrator pushes back, and she takes on some of the Beast's features but still remains partly human. With the Beast, it's total dehumanization through the reflexive disgust response brought on by seeing her gnaw her own limb off like a trapped animal. You get a glimpse of her as something other than human, and you become fixated on that, totally rejecting her until you mold her into something that's just as inhuman as you think she is. If you double down, she eventually becomes so dehumanized by the feedback loop of your treatment of her that she fully becomes an animal and loses the ability to speak.

That's why I think it's important that the two ways that the Beast seems to end on a more positive note (barring the secret ending you're unlikely to get the first time where you pick the exactly correct set of choices that get you to free her while playing dead) is by either her forcing you to understand her by "making you a part of her" (by eating you, which later causes you to "become her" so much that the two of you reintegrate into The Wild), or by you trying to talk to her once she becomes The Den and gets trapped in the little burrow leading upwards. Instinct alone can keep you alive, and territorial aggression can vanquish a predator, but it can't break the cycle of violence you've trapped yourselves in. Only reason and compassion can do that. You have to get in touch with your own humanity again to help her get in touch with hers.

There's also this theme of "regression"/"neglect" in her cabin. Her Chapter II cabin changes the least compared to the other Princess', but its change is marked by abandonment and decay as the cabin is reclaimed by nature and worn down by the elements. The wooden beams are beginning to fall apart with and termites have crept in to eat the table. It's as if the "default" cabin and the Princess herself are abandoning their humanity. In the Den, the cabin regresses to a crude Flintstones-style hut made of rocks or earth, and the table fully regresses to the stump of the fallen tree its wood was presumably harvested from. The Princess, too, regresses to a more primal form, losing her ability to speak and becoming a creature of pure appetite and predatory aggression.

In Chapter II, Beast gets a "nicer enclosure" in the basement more suited to her new form's needs, but in Chapter III, even though the exterior of the Den's cabin becomes a proper jungle, the room she's in becomes a dark pit completely devoid of light that she can't escape, filled with mold and decay, with her body becoming emaciated now that she's capable of starving, as she's become painfully aware of her own appetites. She becomes like a neglected exotic pet, left to waste away in the corner of a cramped, filthy cage. The tips of her new antlers are covered in blood, as if she's shedding velvet or they erupted suddenly and painfully from her own forehead, suggesting this transformation was a painful one.

It's...unnerving to see her become this. Even if she's more powerful, the only way she has to communicate with us is through her eyes. The only way she can think of to get us to let her out of the cabin is by devouring us. It's not even that she's actually hungry for our flesh, it's just that she wants to leave together, because she knows she can't leave alone. That urge to connect with us is still there, that need to make a bond of trust is still required for her to leave, it's just all warped by how inhuman we've made her.

It's also interesting to see that you can get to The Wild through either the Beast or the Witch. I didn't fully commit to Wild yet, as I'm saving that for a later playthrough where I knock out a lot of Chapter IIIs I didn't get to see during my first two times, but I think it'd make the most sense for me to approach it from the Beast's chapter, both through the themes of consumption/absorption, but also because it'll give me an opportunity to talk to her and gain new insights, given that she's not as talkative while she's trying to hunt you the first time around.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for leaving my window open?

Little bit of a setting, i live in a basement suite with 1 other person, K. The house is pretty old, but we are just focused on our area. Its a bit of an L shape, with the front door, bathroom, and my bedroom on one side, and K's room, the living room, and K's office on the other. The kitchen is basically a hallway connecting these two areas.

K is a wonderful roommate. Pays rent, does her half of chores, and helps me with stuff as things arise, just like i do for her.

So the conflict: i like my room cold. The house thermostat is controlled by the upstairs neighbours, and they like to keep it quite warm. To combat this, i like to keep my window open.

Its partially a medical thing, because i am heat-intolerant, so i have a harder time functioning the warmer it is, and it feels like i can actually breath at night when its a little chilly, but also it just helps me sleep and is comfortable.

K likes to be warm. This is reasonable. I keep my door shut to help keep the cold exclusively to my room, but the house is old and the door is a little drafty. Now the heater comfortably warms the rest of the area and her room fine, but the area outside my room, which includes the bathroom, gets quite cold.

This has lead to constant complaints from K. I have tried to shut my window during the day, but it doesnt do enough to fix the problem. She refuses to wear a housecoat or anything. This only bothers her when she needs to go to the bathroom, but every single day its brought up. Its just a comfort thing for her.

She has asked me to use my portable AC unit that i bought to keep my room cool during the summer, but i think thats ridiculous. I want my room to be cold, the air outside is cold, what difference will it make if it is run through a loud machine? I dont see how using the AC would do anything other than make me sleep worse and waste energy.

So far i have just refused to set up the AC, but am open to hearing other options for how to fix the situation. I need to have my room cold, thats non-negotiable. But it very seldom effects her and i feel as though she is being a little unreasonable. The temperature in my room is usually 63-72° or so, depending on the weather, so its not like im in an icebox.

TL:DR my roomate wants me to use the AC instead of using my window to keep my room cold during the colder months but i refuse to try it.

What are these acronyms?

[film-in-my-soul]

show me | 1,581 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: It's The King's Men, but Neil has one more secret to keep.

acoustic (the nerve ending remix) | 1,772 | flybbfly / @wilsherejack

Summary: Andrew needs a yes. No, a louder one.

acoustic | 1,814 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: Andrew wants his boyfriend to be a little more demonstrative about his "yes". Neil gives it a try.

(see more recommendations below!)

it will not reconstruct | 2,047 | badacts / @badacts

Summary: It doesn't change anything. Or, Neil catches a clue on the bus to Binghamton.

like coming home | 3,087 | likearecord

Summary: A hot guy moves in downstairs. Allison sees him first.

intrusive | 3,665 | bazookajo94 / @bazookajo94

Summary: Neil was at a bus station, sprawled on the benches and staring at the ceiling, zoning out to the poorly tuned radio station and ignoring his throbbing body, battered and bruised, when he heard a voice inside him say I don’t like this song. Neil closed his eyes. “You don’t like anything,” he replied, but Andrew didn’t think Neil was real, so he never stuck around when Neil talked back.

now that I know you | 4,535 | djhedy / @djhedy

Summary: He wants to ask Neil, but he isn’t sure what answer he’ll get. He waits until they’re between classes, when they wander towards the benches to waste away their fifteen minute break. In fact waits until they only have eight minutes left, head counting away the time, watching Neil swing his legs under the bench, as Andrew is sat cross-legged next to him, watching the side of his face. Neil is quiet, almost knowing. Asshole. Andrew says, “Do you know me?” Neil’s legs stop swinging. He says, “What does that mean?”

tell me, are we there yet? | 10,216 | rwnjun / @rwnjun

Summary: It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was supposed to be easy. In and out. Kevin and Neil knew the place better than anyone else, knew every niche and every corner. They made the plan, they did the math. In and out, no more than twenty minutes, grab Jean and go. No lingering. No disturbances. No alerting anyone to their presence. Andrew thought it was a bad idea from the start.

Candy Pop | 11,549 | loveroulettes

Summary: One very hot guy has been coming by for weeks now and bartender Andrew would very much like to get to know him for purely physical reasons.

an atom & a star | 31,247 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: Andrew Minyard isn't looking for fame. That's why he plays bass in a backing band. Even so, fame finds Andrew in the form of Four, the mysterious remaining performer of boy band sensation The Perfect Court. Four brings more trouble than he should be worth — his history littered with secrets, lies, and skeletons. But as they round the globe on Four's debut solo world tour, the stakes get higher, and two facts become clearer: Neil Josten isn't the man that Raven Records sells to the world. And now that Andrew has his hands on the man behind the mask, he's never going to let go.

the dominoes cascaded in a line | 35,642 | gsdlover16s

Summary: Sometime after being tortured in the basement of his childhood home and a spider bite that turned his new life upside down, Neil stops running and starts swinging instead. He tries not to regret his decision when a seemingly invulnerable mercenary starts breaking down every wall he's ever built. Or: Neil is Spider-Man, Andrew is Deadpool, and people only assume Spider-Man doesn’t kill because Neil is very good at hiding bodies.

hello world | 36,838 | lolainslackss / @lolainslackss

Summary: Everyone on the US national team knows that Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten hate each other, so of course they all think it's hilarious to force them to share a room in the name of 'team harmony' for the entirety of the Exy World Cup.

to know a man | 47,928 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: In which the Foxes all work at a coffee shop run by Wymack, Neil is their newest recruit with a dark past, Andrew is obvious, Neil is oblivious, and everyone ships it apart from Aaron, who just wants to study in peace. With guest appearance by a stuffed jellyfish called Josephine.

quicksand | 89,063 | likearecord

Summary: Andrew and the Idiotic, Thirsty, Ill-advised, Very Off-Limits Crush on his College Roommate's Younger Brother.

fear in a handful of dust | 104,521 | flybbfly / @wilsherejack

Summary: “I need to talk to Minyard,” Neil says, sipping at a soda. “How do I make that happen?” Kevin chokes on his whiskey. “You don't.” In which Neil doesn't have Kevin Day to convince him to play, so he becomes a sports journalist; Andrew is a keeper in more ways than one; and Quidditch is the sport du jour. Featuring a frankensteined team, eternal roommate Matt, and hawkish sports section editor Dan. Oh, and Andrew has a shady past (present? future?) that Neil can't quite figure out. But that's nothing new for Neil, who is constantly hiding everything about himself anyway—this time with magical abilities greasing the way.

2024 Reclists · INBOX · Blog Updates

[beevean]

What pisses me off the most about NFCV is the way it disrespects the original medium of video gaming. The show sets up a potential action setpiece similar to a level from the game (the turning wheel, s1e3 I think) and then just *walks around it*. Everything about the way "Devil Forging" works in the show demonstrates that Ellis didn't even consult a cutscene compilation, much less the game. And sure enough, the fucker admits he never played them. Why adapt source material you've never experienced?

*Captain N* (a show I defend to the death) was better than this. It embraces the action montage, and even if things aren't 1-to-1, they do capture the appeal of the gameplay they adapt. It understands people love the original work. NFCV plows through the formalities of adapting a guy skimming the wikipedia summary of the game and then sits everyone in a basement for a full season.

The only times I felt I was watching an adaptation of Castlevania was in S1, with things like the fight against the Cyclop who petrified Sypha and Trevor falling into the deepest catacombs where Alucard hid himself, and in S4, where the last fight before the final showdown with Death happens in a clock tower, his iconic hideout.

As for the rest, I remember some snarky fans defending the show's wildly different direction with things like "what, did you expect to see Trevor jumping on platforms?" I don't know but it sure as shit would have been better than the trio wasting the entirety of S2 cooped up in a library! Yes, I would have preferred to see them travel through forests and caves and swamps, instead of wasting my time watching N!Alucard being a complete jerk to N!Trevor for no good reason! (and no, defending vampires is not a good reason)

bro. bro not even the vampire killer is treated with respect. it's replaced with the morning star which is a different weapon, and then n!trevor drops it in favor of a knife pulled out of the story's ass. the morning star pisses n!dracula off, but a fucking stick is capable of killing him. are you doing this on purpose.

And don't get me started on Devil Forging. I actually don't mind too much the idea of making it more similar to necromancy, because it would fit with the idea that it's a cursed, disgusting, blasphemous art. I also can concede that the knowledge that Dracula infused Hector and Isaac with his own power is very obscure, vaguely implied in one cutscene in CoD and one panel of PtR, and confirmed in a pre-release interview. But everything else is so less interesting. It's an art that apparently N!Hector was born with for no reason and N!Isaac could study on his own, removing the personal connection between Dracula and Forgemasters. There are other Forgemasters in the world: those two are not special (which also makes me wonder why N!Dracula bothered to hire N!Hector with a lie when he could have travelled some more: I'm sure Miranda would have helped him). N!Isaac eventually becomes so OP he can stibby stabby to create new Night Creatures without any effort. None of the interesting themes about dehumanization or forcing pure creatures to sin are hinted at*. Even N!Hector's unique cavalier relationship with death, a genuinely but interesting childish mentality of "oh no, death is sad! but I can fix it!", is never explored, because the story was too busy making him look stupid and breedable. And to top it all off, Nocturne literally introduces the concept of a Devil Forging machine which is so bad it sucks even in universe.

*the closest thing to this is in S4 with this line from N!Isaac: "You believe you are tools of destruction only because this is how your kind have always been used". Admittedly, it's a cool line I would have loved to apply to Hector and Isaac. But it doesn't quite work because by definition Night Creatures are not innocent, being demons from hell... and anyway he keeps using them to kill people in Styria because N!Isaac is a bastard and unlike Isaac he won't even admit it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that line comes off as so self-aggrandizing and I hate how much the show shills him so I won't cut it any slack because I'm petty.

As for Captain N, I will say this: the inclusion of the Poltergeist King is, of course, totally wrong from a lore stand point, but to me it tells that the writers actually read the manual in search of information, and the American manual really was the only resource they had at their disposal at the time. Just like that, they put in more effort than Warren "somehow didn't realize on his own that Mathias Cronqvist was Dracula's human name while reading a wiki page" Ellis.

[ardentwench]

An expansion on this post about Steve and Eddie drunkenly eloping via an underground pastor at a pride event the same day they get together.

(If anyone wants to write anything inspired by this or the original post please do)

.

It’s 1990 and Steve, Eddie, and Robin end up visiting NY for xyz reason and when they hear about a Pride event they take the opportunity to go. They have fun, get emotional, somehow bond even more. Steve and Eddie have been teetering on the verge of something for what might be years now, the unspoken slow burn of falling in love with a close friend finally getting acknowledged, putting words and actions to the tension between them. They get invited to some more hidden low key community events to follow up the main event.

They get wasted, Robin gets distracted by some fellow lesbians. She gets Steve to let her slip away for a bit, insists that she’ll stay safe and believes Steve and Eddie can handle themselves without her for awhile, perhaps they could take the time to focus on this new evolution in their relationship.

When one of her new friends drags her to where a small excitable gathering is she doesn’t expect to see Steve and Eddie stepping up to the front of the scene. She can’t press herself through the crowd fast enough to interrupt the basement ceremony happening ahead of her. The audience is too loud in their catcalls for her to even make out much of what makeshift vows her friends are sharing but she can hear just enough to know some of it must sound absurd and hyperbolic to anyone paying close enough attention. She makes it to the front in time to see the swoon worthy kiss of a finale before the boys are gently guided to the side and gifted a Polaroid picture as the next couple falls into place in front of the pastor as he puts himself on the line to help same sex couples feel recognized in their commitment to each other.

She drags a giddy Steve and Eddie to a motel a few streets away, manages to keep them safely off each other long enough to snag a couple rooms, doesn’t even attempt to suggest they sleep apart and instead finds minimal sanctuary on the other side of a worryingly thin wall.

The next day they seem to remember all the important details and neither seem mortified with regret which is a big relief to Robin but there’s a stretch of awkward tension through the makeshift breakfast in her room before they checkout where they seem to be trying to get a footing for how to proceed with each other as boyfriends, let alone as unlawfully wedded spouses.

A couple jokes between the three of them and things start feeling more natural, less tense. Steve and Eddie make a few jokes about spousal privilege, Robin playfully laments she hasn’t even had an official girlfriend yet while Steve’s already snagged a husband. Steve counters with how to be fair he and Eddie had only got together a scant 6 hours prior to eloping and never officially used labels so would it really count as him having a boyfriend before her a girlfriend? And if that’s the case she can still brag about that since he won’t ever get to have a boyfriend since he’s married and all now.

It should be a joke but Robin knows Steve, reads the expression on his face, the inflection in his voice. She catches the way Eddie is eyeing him with heart eyes that reflect too much love and adoration and not enough humor for the joke it should be. She doesn’t miss the way he doesn’t make his own quick witted remark to correct or deflect Steve’s assertion. They don’t talk about it in further depth that day, or the rest of the trip.

When they return to their shared three bedroom home life continues in a way Robin assumed it would once her friends figured things out, the boys are more affectionate in a way that would be unbearable if it wasn’t so sweet and slowly one of their bedrooms becomes unused. There’s occasional references and inside jokes that crop up about the elopement but Robin lets it slide for quite awhile after, glad to see her two pining idiot friends are finally happily together. Within the codependency she has with Steve is a constant twist of protective concern and if she lets herself overthink too often she knows she’ll only spiral among a feedback loop of negativity.

It’s when the comments and jokes about marriage and husbands don’t peter out but instead morph into more casual comments that live on the side of too authentic for Robins comfort that the suspicions she’d felt turns to anxious worry that she stops ignoring.

The shiny new rings given to them for the ceremony are still in place on their fingers in a way that really only stands out on Steve’s normally unadorned hand. He gets offended when she suggests he moves it to a chain or something, quips about what kind of husband she must think he is before he gets quiet and swiftly changes the subject when her answer is a fake husband.

It’s 6 months after the trip to NY and Steve is pondering out loud to Robin, which is nothing new, but he’s going on about if it’s tacky to celebrate a 6 month wedding anniversary and how those expectations might differ between dating and marriage. She knows he’s more musing to himself than expecting a response from her but she can’t help the way she eventually explodes on him in frustration born from her concerns that he’s in too deep, too fast.

She suggests that maybe he’s taking the joke too far. He admits it doesn’t feel like a joke. She wants reassurance that he’s not just deluding himself, that the feeling is at least mutual. Steve is too insecure to speak for Eddie since they haven’t explicitly talked about it. They do mutually call each other husbands as a term of endearment and aren’t shy about voicing their love, but a lot of things just haven’t felt necessary to voice. Things just feel right in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever felt before. He gets why it sounds insane to want to take their elopement seriously but he thought if anyone would support him wanting to hold onto their opportunity to marry the love of their life, lawfully or not, it would be her.

Robin isn’t so easily reassured. She worries that Steve has fallen victim to playing out his youthful domestic fantasy to the point he’s speed running things and it could be to the detriment of his relationship and his future. She just doesn’t want him to get hurt. Her anxiety runs through all sort of reasons it’s a bad idea. And she lists them off in a near panicked ramble.

He’s young, the relationship is still new, they haven’t even been together a year. How is he sure Eddie is the love of his life? Wouldn’t he have said that about Nancy when he was with her? Has he considered if the trauma bonding is affecting his judgment? He really only came to terms with his sexuality a year ago. He hasn’t decided on his direction in life yet between college or a career. What happened to focusing on finding himself? What if he misses opportunities to find his true potential because he’s prioritizing playing house?

She was the only who knew about their drunken vows, there wasn’t any evidence besides the blurry Polaroid they’d been handed but when she couldn’t ignore the unsettled feelings about the situation she had turned to talking them through as vaguely as possible with Nancy, someone logical and sensible who also knew enough of Steve’s baggage to give some sort of informed insight as she vented.

Steve had been able to handle listening to Robins spiral of doubt, even as it bordered on lecturing, because he knew it came from a place of care and concern as she struggled to understand this discrepancy in their usually compatible logic. But when Robin begins sounding less like herself and more like she’s quoting from memory he doesn’t let her continue.

Robin ends up saying something that sounds just like Nancy and Bullshit. Suggesting Steve might care about being wanted in a relationship more than he did the reality of the relationship, implying every fast track couple was doomed to the fate of Ted and Karen Wheeler’s unhappy marriage or Joyce and Lonnie’s inevitable divorce. She alludes to his abandonment issues, his struggles with self esteem, and his lack of self preservation, as if they might have something to do with why he would want to honor his inebriated spontaneous illegal marriage instead of doing the more sensible and safe route.

Once he’s realized she’s actually been talking to Nancy about him he gets upset. He’s hurt and affronted and as much as he was willing to give Robin some allowance to judge him she had taken her lack of faith in him and in his relationship with Eddie too far. Knowing she’d gone behind his back to talk about him and Eddie to his ex girlfriend and had came out with such negative conclusions and assumptions made him feel raw and defensive. He lets his inner high school bitch take the wheel and watches Robin deflate as he begins correcting her where she’s overstepped.

He’s unable to stop some bitter self deprecation from slipping through when he tells her he might not be the smartest and may not be going many places, or making plans to do big things with his life, but that shouldn’t matter. Not everyone wants to make a difference to the world on a grander and more public scale than secretly saving the world repeatedly from the Upside Down. Not everyone’s priorities are to escape their hometown as soon as possible to disappear into a big city or learn it all at big fancy schools. The only opportunity he currently cares about missing is embracing the direction life will take him and Eddie together, and who they can grow to be while alongside each other. And maybe his aspirations seem lacking to someone as smart and talented as her and Nancy but he’s happy and content in a way he can’t recall ever experiencing, not even with Nancy. And maybe it’d be nice if his best friend didn’t suggest it was all bullshit or insinuate he was an idiot for wanting to keep that feeling alive and strong. There’s more he says but he doesn’t stick around for Robin to respond.

Eddie shows up in time to overhear something that could be taken out of context before Steve storms off but instead of assuming the worst and miscommunication dragging out the ordeal he actually checks on Steve and they communicate via a healthy discussion and Eddie confirms he is just as stupidly invested in Steve and meant every word of his vows too. At first Steve had tried pulling away when Eddie comes to him, Robin (and Nancy’s) words getting to his insecurities and stirring doubt where there’d previously been none. Eddie easily reassures him. Despite not being particularly religious he married Steve under God by the power of a badass rebel pastor and they didn’t need government approval or fancy paperwork or even their friends approval for it to be real.

Robin went to apologize to Steve and Eddie but accidentally eavesdrops which makes her feel even worse for doubting Eddie’s level of seriousness about Steve or that Steve couldn’t handle his own relationship and life, realizing that maybe if she hadn’t been so caught up projecting her own insecurities onto the situation she may of realized Steve and Eddie deserved more credit for understanding each other than she had initially been willing to give them. She does end up apologizing and Steve appreciates it even though he can admit he would of probably stressed out and made an ass of himself over Robin eloping so quickly as well.

For their 6 month anniversary they take the opportunity to get the kids together while everyone is still available. Eddie slips into one of his showy rants against the government and why some laws were better broken, ending it with the declaration that he and Steve being together is a prime example of how worth it some laws are to ignore. Most of the party roll their eyes, used to Eddie’s passionate spiels and gushing about Steve, something that’s only got worse since they returned from NY and were caught being borderline indecent at Joyce and Hoppers wedding reception. Steve had blamed it on their new relationships own honeymoon phase.

Mike who was hanging on Eddies words wrinkles his nose and points out in confusion that sodomy wasn’t illegal in Indiana. This gains everyones attention on him and he flushes, pointing out in his defense that he was just saying it wasn’t exactly illegal for Steve and Eddie to be dating like Eddie implied. The kids rush to tease Mike for just blurting something like that out despite the context until Eddie cuts in to correct the misconception that him and Steve are dating.

This immediately quiets everyone, confused and a little concerned they glance between their two older friends and Steve struggles to keep his face neutral. Beside him Robin shoves her own face in a book in an attempt to hide her own poor poker face. Almost simultaneously Max and Dustin both break the silence, rushing to get clarification and talking over each other as they ask what that means. Steve’s a bit surprised by the amount of hackles raising around the room at the simple statement. Max and Dustin especially looked prepared to follow through on previous shovel talks if necessary, hanging onto every word of Eddie insisting insists him and Steve aren’t boyfriends. They’re just shy of becoming feral as they try to make sense of the situation when Steve finally feels pity and casually chimes it that while sodomy isn’t outlawed same sex marriage is illegal, and yet…

There’s a moment of confused quiet that falls over the room only broken by Dustin huffing exasperatedly until Will lets out an almost involuntary sounding Oh. He’s all wide eyed and pink around the cheeks even before everyone focuses on him and Steve knows Will’s clocked the truth when he sees the way he’s looking at Steve’s ring finger. Will finally meets his eye and offers a hesitant congratulations. It’s only another bated breath before the kids stir with the revelations as their genius minds catch up to the insinuations.

They clarify for El how they eloped and what it meant, how they refuse to let the government dictate their use of matrimonial vows, holy or unholy. Eddie preens under the ability to brag about Steve agreeing to become his unlawfully wedded husband. Steve was prepared for someone to voice skepticism but when he hears Mike through the excited chatter grumbling about not understanding Eddie’s poor choices it means a lot for Robin to be the first to quickly shut it down, a chorus of vocal support following her lead.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 1: Hunting Season

Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four

Raining Hellfire: Season Four

Word Count: 3540 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, visions, typical vecna curse violence

[A/N: just casually getting the gang back together no biggie. plus this chapter already starts off as a rollercoaster so oops]

Hunting Season

The drive took hours. You only took one break the entire ride. You couldn’t waste any more time.

WELCOME TO HAWKINS

You drove by the sign with a shaky sigh, hands gripping the wheel tighter. As soon as you crossed that border, your chest felt tighter. A strange burst of energy coursed through your veins, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hawkins hadn’t changed one bit since you were last here. People still walked around in their day to day lives with absolutely no clue about what you and your friends have done for them.

You turned down familiar streets, recollecting memories you’d rather forget. Cornwalls Street went by quickly; flashes of riding your bikes to escape the men from the lab, El showing just how powerful she could be by flipping a van right over your heads.

Elm and Cherry, the Halloween house party; the night that brought you and Steve closer together but you and Eddie further apart. The night that changed everyone’s relationships.

Then, you were approaching the Wheeler house. Running back with Nancy and Jonathan after finding the Upside Down, barely escaping with your lives. Days spent in the basement with the party, with El.

You park the car outside the home you never thought you’d see again. Jack’s home. Your home. All your happiest memories now fatal reminders of what you had lost.

Grabbing your backpack, you step out of the car and take a deep breath.

The door creaked open, welcoming you to an empty house. Nothing had changed, the greyish wallpaper still peeling from the corners, a faint smell of your aunt’s perfume. Everything you didn’t take with you had been sat here collecting dust for months.

You had expected the house to go up for sale when you moved. After all, it was now Susan’s property since she was his next of kin. Max had mentioned she didn’t want the house, but you thought she’d sell it for the money. The town had been too occupied with the Starcourt mess to bother with things like this, you supposed.

Dropping your bag with a sigh, you close your eyes. You had barely made it out of the hallway before everything hit you in a blur.

Jack stood in front of you, saddened eyes staring into yours. His hands covered in-

You snap your eyes back open, shaking your head. You couldn’t do this to yourself. Not today.

Max’s letters had stated that Steve and Robin were now working at Family Video, a little store you’d been in multiple times from your obsession with movies. You’d just have to start there.

But it was a wasted trip.

Once you arrived, you could clearly see the ‘Closed’ sign taunting you in the window. You had even tried knocking on the glass, hoping they were still in there for any reason. No such luck.

“Great.” You mutter, turning around and surveying the street. Robin did say they were looking for Eddie. They must have found him.

You didn’t want to imagine what the worse-case scenario would be.

As you walk through the town, you try and rethink what Robin had said. But nothing she had spoken to you about gave any indication on where they all might be. Fuck. You were going to have to do this alone.

You pass the cinema, resisting the urge to look down the alleyway beside it. Instead, you stare at the road and something catches your eye. A truck drives by, filled with guys in matching jackets. But that wasn’t the strange part. It was who you saw sat in the back seat.

“Lucas?” You question to yourself as they speed by. You knew he had joined the basketball team, Max had stated that in her last letter. You just didn’t know why he looked so unhappy.

Venturing further into the town didn’t calm your nerves any more. In fact, it felt scarier. People sent odd looks your way, some glaring and others ushering their friends away like you were some kind of disease.

“Y/n?”

You turn at your name, frowning when you didn’t recognise the guy in front of you. He was wearing a Hawkins High jacket, clearly a part of the basketball team but astray from the rest of his teammates. It sent a wave of anxiety through you seeing him stood there, looking at you. He knew your name despite never meeting before. And his eyes held something dangerous.

“Can I help you?” You question as he looks around before stepping closer.

“You dated Eddie Munson, right?”

“Uh…” You felt your heart hammer faster. How the hell did he know that? “… Why are you asking?”

“Where is he?” His voice raised, an angry expression flooding his face and you step back.

“I’m gonna go now.” You say before turning away and continuing your walk.

“We’ll find him sooner or later!” He yells at you and your steps quicken.

Eddie was right. The town would spare no expense in hunting down the ‘freak’.

Taking your car for a drive didn’t prove useful to you. You had mentally tried to map out Eddie’s safe places, areas he could lay low in. It had to be somewhere remote but, with a heavy heart, you realise that you hadn’t spent time with him for two years. He could be anywhere.

You felt hopeless until a shirt caught your attention and your eyes widened with an idea.

Pulling up beside him, Jeff looked as if he was ready to start running until he saw who was behind the wheel.

“Y/n?” He sounded shocked, shaking his head as he pulled his jacket tighter around his Hellfire shirt. “You’re back?”

“It’s a long story.” You sigh, attempting a smile.

“Look, Eddie-”

“I know. It’s kind of why I’m here. I just…” You take a breath, “I don’t suppose you know how I can contact him?”

Jeff shakes his head, leaning against the window, “No clue.”

“Shit.” You breathe.

“But...” He glances around you before leaning in closer, lowering his voice, “The guys and I think we have an idea of where you could find him.”

“Really?”

“When he started dealing…” He shoots you a look and you nod, sending a sign you already knew, “Yeah, so, when he started dealing, he kept telling us he was getting his stuff from a guy called Rick.”

“Rick?” You frown. You recognised the name.

“We figure if he was anywhere, it would be at Rick’s.” He looked uncomfortable, staring away from you, “We wanted to go find him ourselves but ever since Jason and his mates found out about Chrissy, they haven’t let us out of their sights. They think we’re gonna lead them to him.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You question and he solemnly nods. You bite your lip. “Any clue where this Rick lives?”

“No, sorry.” He winces, “But I do know that he used to work down at the Mechanics. Eddie met him there once.”

The Mechanics. Shit. Now you knew why you recognised that name. He worked with Jack.

“Thank you.” You nod, getting your car into gear.

“Wait.” Jeff says and you turn, waiting for his response. “Tell Eddie… tell him we’re all with him. We don’t believe anything that they’re saying about him.”

“I will.” You smile and you pull away, heading to the Mechanics.

“Yes, I’m looking for Rick.” You say for the hundredth time, arms folded across your chest.

“Sorry, little lady. But I don’t got no clue who the hell that is.” The older man grumbled. You hadn’t seen him here before, obviously a recent hire.

“But-”

“Y/n?”

You turn to see Mark, a man who was probably the closest to your father in terms of friendship. You’d met him a couple of times when Jack was working late and you waited for him to finish up his work.

“Mark.” You smile, “I was-”

“Looking for Rick, yeah.” He nods, frowning to the man in front of you, “I’ll take it from here.”

“But, she-”

“That’s Jack’s daughter.” He simply said and the man gave a knowing nod, disappearing into the back and leaving you two be. “Hey, kid. I’m sorry you lost him. When I heard the news… well, let’s just say I refused to believe it at first. He was a good man.”

“Yeah, he was.” You swallow guilt, changing the topic. “Um, so… Rick?”

“Right, yeah. Rick. He’s not working here no more, moved on after the mall fire. Think he’s out of town.”

Shit, you thought.

“Any chance you have an address?”

He raises his eyebrow, obviously knowing something. “It’s none of my business but you’re Jack’s kid and I-”

“I’m not buying.” You assure, shaking your head, “I’m just looking for my friend, that’s all. People said I could find him at Rick’s.”

“I don’t-”

“I’m not leaving until I have an address.”

He sighs, “He lives down by the lake. Don’t know where exactly but he owns a boat so I expect it’s pretty close to the edge.”

“Thank you.” You sigh.

“Jack was right.” Mark smiles and you frown. “You really are a stubborn one.”

You bid him goodbye, smiling at his comment as you climb back into your car.

You park the car, frowning. Where the hell is it?

The lake was surrounded by a dense forest, making it increasingly harder for you to spot Rick’s house. Having to step away from your car, you ventured out into the trees, figuring that your best bet was to follow the body of water.

You walk deeper into the woods, your head thumping louder and louder until you stopped, rubbing your forehead. You should have gotten more sleep.

It’s not until blood begins to drip from your nose that your skin crawls with goosebumps.

“No.” You whisper, but it’s too late.

You expect to see a menacingly flipped version of the woods you stood in, but instead you are met with something else entirely.

You’re no longer in the woods. There are no vines wrapped around trees, no white particles threatening your lungs.

Your heart stopped once you realised you were stood in Eddie’s trailer.

The lights were flickering wildly, illuminating the room in quick flashes. You barely notice. You’re too busy staring at Eddie, the look of complete horror striking his face as a girl levitates in the middle of his living room.

“Chrissy.” You shake your head in denial. Robin told you about what happened last night.

This was a memory. It just wasn’t your memory.

Suddenly, Chrissy is flung to the ceiling and one by one, her bones begin to snap.

Eddie’s screams were drowned out as you stare up at the poor girl, her hollowed eye sockets staring back down at you.

Then, everything changes again.

You’re in the middle of a road, one you recognise, situated just outside the trailer park. Your heart still hammering from your last vision, you turn around, searching.

It was dark, nothing like how you last saw the sky in the woods. It had to be another memory you never had.

That’s when you see a boy, deathly still as he stood just up ahead.

You cautiously approach him, reaching out.

But, just like Chrissy, he begins to lift off of the ground.

You rush to him, seeing the whites of his eyes staring to the sky, arms held out either side of him. Then, they begin to snap. You let out a choked sob, shaking your head. What was happening?

You run, not knowing where it would take you, hoping, praying, that you could escape this.

Your feet take you as far as you can go before the ground suddenly shifts, and you’re falling.

You land in a pool of red, vines slithering along the ground. You look up to the sky, holding your breath. Floating objects swam around the air; pieces of a house, a stained glass window with a design you couldn’t quite make out. You didn’t have the time to.

“Welcome back, Y/n”

A chill strikes your spine at the all too familiar voice. It was back. Your chest felt compressed as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“What’s happening?” You shake your head, hearing the echo of a haunting laugh.

“The end is happening” They say and you search the crimson plane but find no one, “Can’t you feel it?”

“What do you want?” Your voice is barely a whisper.

You were scared, on edge. You hadn’t felt this way since the demon first visited you. All those years ago.

“You will see”

You stand from the puddle, dark substances sticking to your clothes as you screamed. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!”

“I told you that you would be their end” A shadow suddenly emerges from behind you and you stumble away, tripping. “Your fate is already catching up to you”

“I didn’t know them!” You sob, head spinning as you try and search for a way out. You hadn’t felt this trapped in one of your visions before. It was stronger than it had ever been.

Then, all of a sudden, the figure steps forward. And for the first time in four years, you see its face.

Red and raw skin stretched out into vines that wrapped around their body, one abnormally long arm reaching out, claws barely touching your face when they suddenly pull away. You don’t know why but you can feel it. It was like there was still some kind of barrier between you both.

They stare down at you with milky white eyes.

“You’re running out of time, Y/n.”

You gasp for air, hitting the ground.

You immediately scramble for your feet when you start to hear incoherent whispers floating around you, sprinting further into the woods to escape them.

Your visions had always had a toll on you. But you never felt fear like you had just then.

You keep running until you see a house in the distance and your heart races. It could be Rick’s. It needed to be Rick’s.

Peering through the window, you shake away the hammering of your heart. No one was in there.

You hear whispers once again and your breath hitches. Spinning around, you wait for the monster to find you again. But they weren’t the same whispers.

You recognised these ones.

Creeping around the side of the house, you find a boathouse overlooking the edge of the lake and your heart skips a beat. This had to be Rick’s.

You try your best to keep light footed once the voices got louder. It sounded like a group of people and you really didn’t want a run in with the ‘hunters’.

“… but they went bye-bye.”

You stop moving when you recognise Steve’s undeniable voice echo out of the boathouse. You had found them.

“And Y/n.” Dustin’s voice added to Steve’s point, a hint of sadness.

You start to move around the back, noticing another entrance. You could even see their faint shadows marking the floorboards behind them.

“Y/n was involved in all of this?” Eddie. Relief hit you; they had found him.

You hear Steve clear his throat before speaking. “More than any of us.”

“But she’s not here.” Max’s solemn voice was the loudest as you take a final step.

Just as you can see them all clearly, the floorboards creak under your feet and they all whip their heads to focus on you, everyone reeling from the fact that you were stood right there.

“I guess we spoke too soon.” Robin breathes out, a smirk playing on her lips in happiness.

You stare at each of their faces, guilt and joy bubbling into an anxious mix. You don’t know what to say, how to speak. So, you blurt the first word that came to mind.

“Hi.”

“What-how-when?” Dustin stammered as he and Max practically flew to you, capturing you into a tight hug and a sad laugh escaped your lips.

“How did you find us?” Robin questions, glancing to Steve and Eddie before adding herself into the group hug.

“Oh, you know.” You shrug, smiling at your sister when she steps away. “Drove 17 hours, tried looking for you guys at the store, then finding Jeff who told me about Rick, and then I went to the Mechanics where they told me Rick lived somewhere out here and, if I’m being honest, I kinda stumbled into here from pure dumb luck.”

“You really are the world’s greatest detective.” Dustin looks to you in awe and you ruffle his hat.

“Jeff?”

Eddie’s voice catches your attention and you finally look at him, all kinds of feelings hitting you at once.

“Yeah.” You nod, “He, uh… he wanted me to let you know that they all have your back. The Hellfire Club.”

He smiles at that, slowly nodding as he avoids your eyes.

“So we’re not talking about the fact that YOU’RE BACK?!” Dustin yells and you step back, giving him room to break down. Max simply raises her eyebrows at him, unable to hide the smile teasing her lips.

Dustin suddenly reaches his hand out and you stare at it for a second before realising. The handshake. Executed perfectly, Dustin nods in content, crossing his arms.

“How did you know?” Steve asks, something unreadable on his face as he looks at you.

“Um…” You avoid looking to Robin. You wanted to leave her out of it, especially since she had told you the others had wanted to leave you out of it. “I had a bad feeling, I guess.”

“Thank god.” Dustin breathes, “Because if you weren’t here, there was no way we were gonna defeat Vecna.”

“Vecna?” You question.

“It’s what they’re calling the thing that killed Chrissy.” Max explains, “Another thing from-”

“DnD, yeah.” You nod, searching your memory, “The powerful mind wizard, right?”

They all raise their eyebrows and Eddie’s eyes widen.

You laugh awkwardly, “I… I must have heard Will talking about it on one of your campaigns or something.”

“We never had a Vecna campaign.” Dustin frowns and you tighten your lips.

“Anyway,” Robin saves you, stepping forward, “Now that we have Y/n… what’s the plan?”

“How am I supposed to help?” You ask, shaking your head, “I’ve literally just gotten here, Robs, how could I possibly-”

“Your powers.” Max says, nodding slightly and your breath hitches.

You felt a darkness creeping through your spine and into your arms, faint black lines covering the skin. With a yell, you push your arms out and the tentacles stabbed straight into the Mind Flayer so quickly you almost missed it.

“Powers?” Eddie’s eyebrows raise as high as they could go.

You slowly shake your head, “Whatever that was, it was a one time thing. I-I don’t even know where it came from.”

“So… you don’t have a plan?” Eddie shakes his head at your friends and you frown.

“So, okay.” Robin nods, trying to lighten the mood, “We’re- we’re technically in the…”

“Kinda-” Steve tries, waving his hand like the answer would appear in front of him.

“Brainstorming phase.” Max offers and they all nod.

“Brainstorming.” Steve agrees.

“There’s.. there’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin smiles at Eddie who looks more concerned for his safety than he should. “Especially now that Y/n’s here.”

Eddie’s eyes shift to yours and you just shrug, just as confused about this whole situation.

“So, uh…” You clear your throat, “I feel like this is a stupid question but... what is actually going on?”

They share looks once they realise that you obviously had no clue of their previous conversations. Dustin goes to open his mouth when sirens start blaring in the distance and a chill runs down your spine.

“Shit.” Steve mutters, moving to the window in a flash.

“Tarp.” Robin orders and you watch as Eddie disappears into the boat, everyone else running to stare out of the boathouse with Steve.

You hear the sirens fade as they pass through. They weren’t here for Eddie.

“They’re gone.” Dustin calls back and Eddie flips the tarp open with a sigh, sitting up and finding your eyes once again.

“Where are they going?” Max wonders out loud and your eyes widen.

You’re in the middle of a road, one you recognise, situated just outside the trailer park. Your heart still hammering from your last vision, you turn around, searching.

“The road outside the trailer park.” You say out loud, staring at nothing.

“How do you know that?” Eddie shakes his head and Steve steps forward.

“She’s right, just trust me.” He says with full belief. “Okay, okay. We’ll head over, and Eddie-”

“I’ll stay here.” He waves out, leaning back against the boat and hugging cereal to his chest.

“Stay safe.” You say quietly and he sends you a small smile.

“Wanna catch up when you get back?” He raises an eyebrow, shrugging when you seem surprised, “I didn’t get the chance to run head first into you so figured we could get to that later.”

You laugh, “Absolutely.”

“Y/n!” Max calls out and you send another quick smile before running out of the boathouse.

Barely 4 hours in Hawkins and you were already in way over your head.

Chapter 2: Always The Babysitters ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit/ @f1nn-wolfhard/ @hereiamhereigo/ @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley/ @mothmanatemycat

[u2fangirlie-blog]

Book Club Introduction

Recently, I was invited into a book club on Facebook. A friend asked me to join with other friends she knows. I know two out of 30 members. How are people supposed to introduce themselves and get to know each other in FB groups, particularly book clubs? I have no clue! The book club creator and moderators all follow BookTok and have To Be Read lists. I don't do that. It's all new to me.

To start, I read through posts, liked, commented, and replied to interesting and relevant posts. I thought this would be a good way to get to know new people. Then I took a risk and wrote an introduction. The post was viewed by half the crowd. My friend H. replied, but there were no other comments. Just silence. Not even a clock ticking in the background.

The first book selected is Murder at the Book Club by Betsey Reavley. I want to stay, make new friends, and be introduced to new authors, but I feel like an asshole. My introduction to the book club was dead on arrival, so I'm going to delete it from the group.

Here's the introduction. I put a lot of thought and planning into it and don't want to see words go to waste. Someone might read it in the vast expanse of words on Tumblr.

Hi! H. invited me to join the group. She said you are awesome fun people. H., C., and I have been friends since elementary and junior high school. In the past, I've been part of reading circles where we read and discussed metaphysical books. This is my first online book club. Please guide me in what is appropriate behavior and social conventions for online reading groups. I hope to read books in genres I've never read before. I look forward to getting to know everyone here.

I just want to introduce myself a little bit to the group. I'll start with my reading habits and preferences.

I don't have a TikTok account, so I don't follow any Booktok creators.

On YouTube, I don't follow many Booktube creators. However, I do watch channels that focus on one author or genre. I like Quinn's Ideas. He's the go-to guy for Dune and A Song of Ice and Fire. He also discusses classic hard scifi and new scifi. I enjoy T.L. is Reading, who is doing a Discworld read-along. If I'm interested in a new book or TV series based on a book, I'll look on YouTube. I learned a lot about the Wheel of Time that way.

I prefer print books. My house is stacked to the rafters. Remind me sometime to tell you about the time a tree branch went through the roof, and instead of going to the basement for safety, I ran upstairs to rescue boxes of books from the rain.

I do read some ebooks, usually if it's a long series or older books that are hard to find in print. Discworld has 41 book, so most of my Pratchett collection is in ebooks.

Kindle Unlimited - I don't have it because of the cost of subscriptions. If I get a book, I buy it. One reason I prefer print books over ebooks is that having physical media is forever (exceptions of fire or flood). What's going to happen if Amazon loses rights to books or if there's a major technology failure? We the consumers will lose access to digital media we "own" and paid for and will never get it back. It's already happening with streaming videos. If the Big One happens and if we lose electricity and satellites and the internet and if electronic devices stop working, y'all can come to my house. I own all the books and DVDs. LOL!

Audible - See above. Cost of subs. Potential loss of access to digital media. I listen to bootleg audiobooks on YouTube. I have a few audiobooks on CD. I haven't got any new audiobooks in ages because they're so freaking expensive.

Genres - Sci-fi. Fantasy. Classic literature. Mythology. Metaphysical. Paranormal. Occult. Tarot. Non-fiction essays and articles. Encyclopedias and dictionaries. You read that right. I'm a sucker for an encyclopedia with pretty pictures. I have lots of specialized encyclopedias in mythology, symbolism, gemstones, animals, and plants. I love etymology and enjoy looking up word origins. Classic authors: As an English major, I read a lot of the classics. Jane Austen is okay, not my favorite. I have issues with the Bronte Sisters and other authors who introduced the bad boy lover and gave really unhealthy expectations to young people about relationships.

Authors - Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Frank Herbert, Diane Duane, George R.R. Martin, J.R.R. Tolkien, Diana Gabaldon, Jim Butcher, Charlaine Harris, Laurel Hamilton, and Anne Rice (because smut is better with paranormal characters, and their vampires are infinitely better than Stephanie Meyers) J.K. Rowling (before she turned evil), and Neil Gaiman (Yes, I know about the allegations and am still processing how to respond publicly. His alleged behavior is horrible. The Good Omens and Sandman fandoms are fighting and ripping each other apart.)

First, full disclosure: I have a BA and MA in English, with a minor in creative writing and special studies in archetypal myth criticism. I don't write fiction. The creative writing workshops were difficult for me. My professors didn't inspire creativity, but instead they instilled critical analysis of writing, self-criticism, and self-doubt. My teachers critically wounded my desire to write stories, and later it just died. I gave up writing fiction a long time ago. No, I do not secretly want to write fiction.

My strong suit is non-fiction, including articles and essays. Mostly I write short humorous stuff for my social media and a captive audience of about 70 friends and family. Also I write in-depth analyses and criticism of books, movies, and TV series. And sometimes my friends get sick of my BS and think I'm too critical. That's just how my brain works. Analyzing something to the extreme doesn't mean I don't still enjoy it or love it. (Unless it's objectively crap. LOL!) I have a Tumblr blog for publishing what I don't want family to read.

That being said - When I put a lot of time and effort into writing a longer piece (for example an essay with photos) and people either don't read it or they only respond with a like, I feel frustrated and very hurt. I get it. People don't have time and are selective about what they read. I wrote a Tumblr post about it and will share it if anyone is interested.

For the past 7 years, I taught English comp and how to write research papers at a community college. I also ran the writing center with a staff of one (me) and helped students with their papers. If you need help with MLA and APA citations, I'm your girl! I departed for financial reasons. My past work experiences were in office/clerical. Recently, I started a new job in an office. It's good.

Finally, this is my binder full of maps. As an avid fan of fantasy and sci-fi series. maps are important to know where characters are located and the various cities and realms they are in. I'm obsessive. I'm a nerd and a dang weirdo (in the Muppet Gonzo sense of being a weirdo).

Here's a link to the binder of maps from fantasy, sci-fi, and history in literature.

[theenemyod]

So I wrote it

Con looks at Alistair, saying nothing. He doesn’t like what’s happening. Not specifically anything in his moment, but the body of a seven year old child sucks. His body can’t do anything it used to do, things that used to be easy take a lot more energy, things that used to be natural become annoyingly difficult. And the leg doesn’t help. 

And it doesn’t help anything that Alistair doesn’t know shit about who’s actually in this child’s body, and if he did Con would probably be dead in seconds. So he decides to say nothing at all. He has to be careful with his words as to not reveal himself. Alistair already has his suspicions, he doesn’t want to add evidence. He doesn’t want to end up dead. 

Although unfortunately he has no clue how to convincingly act seven years old. He mostly thinks of younger kids as hyperactive shits that can’t sit still for five seconds, but his leg hurts a lot when he moves too much anyways. That’s something he has to work on. 

He needs to get stronger. He needs to be in a condition that running won’t cause him physical pain and he can get back to at least his old level of strength. And magic level too. 

Before Alistair can say anything else, he silently leaves the room, hiding outside in the garden instead. 

Con hides himself in a particularly overgrown area, the small body being hidden well in the long grass. He decides to practice his magic first. That’s arguably more important. 

He starts practice with air magic, trying to make illusions or to move things. It seems like the thing with the least potential to cause damage if he somehow fucks this up, compared to some of the other elements. It’s also safer in the sense that he’s surrounded by grass and earth, so being pulled in and devoured would be harder, but his mind doesn’t linger on that for long. The concept of counterweights and everything in that area in magic is painful for him to think about, even the type that has nothing to do with… NO don’t think about it. 

Con starts to concentrate on his magic more, his hands shaking slightly, forcing himself to just focus. Focus on this. Don’t think about anything else. 

After a few hours, Con decides he’s made enough progress, and starts to climb out of the grass. He’s manages to pull his mind of the subject of counterweights, and isn’t going to let it wander back to that. 

His day goes like this most weekends. When Alistair will almost always lock himself in the garage or the basement working on some new weird project, leaving Con almost completely unsupervised. It’s been like this for about two years, since this body was five. This was defined a bit irresponsible on Alistair’s part, and definitely would be more of an issue if Con had actually had the mind of a five year old, but Con isn’t complaining. It gives him more time alone, something that before he hadn’t had much of. In the last two years alone it’s given him a lot more time to get better. 

He doesn’t goes back inside yet, not really wanting to see Alistair, but instead sits against the wall. He’s not using magic anymore, so he doesn’t have to hide what he’s doing, but at the same time he’s extremely bored. Half of what he does most days is just for the purpose of exhausting himself, so hopefully he can sleep at night. It works well enough, thankfully. It doesn’t stop the nightmares, but most nights he doesn’t have enough energy for his body to wake itself up. 

He gets up off the ground, and starts to walk around, figuring that’s be a good way to waste time. That’s another reason. He wants time to go quicker, if he’s being honest. He just wants to be twelve and get into the Magisterium already, not wait five years until then. This body sucks. He just wants to be him again. He’ll even deal with the scars if it doesn’t mean having to move around the world as a fucking seven year old. And by deal with the scars that does not mean not hiding them. No one is seeing those things. Ever. 

Con doesn’t return home until around sunset, when he realises Alistair might be getting worried. Though by now, Alistair is used to him being home late. And the people that live nearby are used to seeing an unsupervised seven year old walking around, though that doesn’t mean they’ve stopped judging Alistair slightly for it. Which Con can’t exactly blame them for. 

Inside Alistair is sat at the table, looking at some old book. He glances up at Con for a moment, then looks back down. Con wonders how much he knows, how much he’s figured out already. There’s no way he banned every mention on magic for no reason, or he didn’t even try to hide his hatred for the Magisterium, for no reason. But how much does he know? And is it enough to hurt Con?

[mysteryhackin]

HAPPY STANUARY- truly the best month of the year! Thank you @stanuary for putting it on!Here’s my (slightly late) contribution for Week 1, Mystery (AO3 link above and entire story below the cut if you prefer)

Stan Pines has been fooling the townsfolk for twenty five years- no one has any idea there's a secret entrance at the vending machine in the the gift shop of his prized tourist trap.

Well, almost nobody...

Stan casually leaned on his front porch, smoking a cigar with a smirk as he watched the eager crowd disperse around the outside of the Mystery Shack, on the hunt for clues. He always loved the Mystery Hunt- the annual murder mystery party he put on for the town. It was one of his more brilliant money making schemes. Get the people to buy in (“at only $20 a person, that’s a steal!”), let the participants loose, let them find random things in the forest (like he was going to waste any time setting up actual clues) and give the prize to whichever group claimed they solved the mystery first.

The prize usually just some extra merchandise from the gift shop that wasn’t selling well, but he had convinced the participants over the years that the best prize was really the bragging rights. He even put up a picture of the winning team in a little corner (“place of honor!”) of the gift shop for a year, which for some reason was something people went wild over.

He chuckled as he propped himself up, looking forward to a couple of hours of uninterrupted time to himself, putting the cigar out on the ash tray he had hidden behind the freezer on the porch. He turned to go back inside but paused as his hand landed on the door handle.

He should just sit down and watch something mindless on TV, keeping half an ear out in case Toby Determined got stuck in the outhouse again.

But something was pulling him towards the basement.

He shouldn’t go. It was broad daylight, there were so many people around, it was too risky… he had kept this secret for 25 five years, why risk getting caught after he had worked so hard? Sure, a great idea on recalibrating the focus rods came to him this morning as he was collecting the fees for the Mystery Hunt, but that could wait until tonight, right?

He really shouldn’t go.

But Stan Pines never did what he should.

With a grin to himself, he took one last look around him to make sure no one was nearby, then slipped into the gift shop, closing the door softly behind him.

But what he saw froze all the blood in his veins.

The hidden door behind the vending machine was wide open.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, his mind blank from the shock, terror, and confusion at seeing the secret passage- the secret passage he had successfully kept a secret for twenty five years- was open in the middle of the day, when half the town was nearby. Who opened it? And how? And how was Stan going to get them to keep their yaps shut about-

Wait. Stan began breathing again as a thought came to his mind. Maybe nobody had opened it. What if it was an electrical malfunction or something?

“Yeah,” he muttered to himself as he tried to steady his nerves. “Just something wrong with the circuits or whatever. Good thing that happened when no one was around…” He finally calmed down enough to be able to move again, and went over to the vending machine to close it, deciding that maybe he would actually wait for the cover of night before going down to mess with the portal today.

But his hopes of a mere electrical malfunction were dashed as he noticed that the lantern on the wall was gone. Someone was down there after all.

Instead of being paralyzed with fear like he was a few moments before, this time Stan moved quicker than ever, the reality of the situation putting him on autopilot, and before he knew it, he was quickly creeping down the stairs with a heavy flashlight, the door closed behind him, ready for whoever- or, this being Gravity Falls, whatever- was waiting for him.

He tensed as he got closer to the elevator and heard what sounded like muttering. Someone was down there, but a little part of him felt some relief as he gratefully realized that it meant that they hadn’t figured out the code to open the elevator and get down to the portal. He turned the flashlight off so he could catch whoever it was off guard, and slowly moved down the last corner of the stairs.

A slim figure was frustratedly punching in the keypad with all the weird symbols on it. A million thoughts went through Stan’s mind- how did they get down here? Should he knock them out with the flashlight and drag them away, leaving them to wake up in the woods? Or should he try to fight them and make them answer questions? And hang on... were those pigtails?

Stan slightly relaxed. Pigtails. As his eyes adjusted to the light and he could see the figure a little more clearer, noting the red hair, high water jeans, and green t-shirt. “You’re that Corduroy girl, ain’t ya?” he asked.

The girl shrieked and jumped, turning around with a fierce look in her eyes and crouched in a defensive position, fists raised. Then her eyes widened as she recognized him, and she quickly straightened up but still wore a sullen expression, as if daring him to mention her scream a few seconds ago. “Hi Mr. Pinesth,” she lisped, and Stan noted braces through her grimace.

“Hey, uh,” he paused, “Whitney, right?”

“Wendy,” she said, looking even less impressed than she did a few seconds ago. “Like in Peter Pan.”

“Right. Wendy,” Stan said, and drew himself up to look imposing. “You’re not supposed to be down here, kid.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Thisth isthn’t part of the Mysthtery Hunt?”

Stan deflated. He was really getting rusty. Ten years ago he wouldn’t have led with that question; he should have asked her what she was doing or how she got down there, but instead he instantly put all his cards on the table in his haste to get her out of here. But he quickly rallied. “Uh, yeah, of course it is! Haha good job, you won! Just don’t tell-” he looked at Wendy’s skeptical expression. “You ain’t buying this, are ya?”

“Mr. Pinesth, I have never stheen you put on anything this cool for the Mysthtery Hunt, and I’ve been doing thisth with my dad sthince I can remember,” she said. “I thought maybe you really were going all out thisth year, but, uh,” she paused. “From your reaction just now, I think thisth is sthomething bigger.”

Stan narrowed his eyes. “Just how old did you say you were?”

Wendy matched his menacing expression. “Ten,” she said, jutting her chin out defiantly.

“You’re pretty tall to be ten,” Stan growled, wondering what kind of mind game this girl was playing with him.

All defiance left Wendy as she flung her back dramatically against the wall. “Tell me about it,” she said, a hint of a whine in her voice much more fitting to her age. “My dad’sth a giant, and my mom wasth too, stho I’m pretty much doomed to be a freak of nature my whole life.”

A pain shot through Stan’s heart as he remembered a little boy using those exact same words when they were growing up. He had to get him back. He would get him back-

“You OK Mr. Pinesth?” Wendy’s uncertain voice interrupted Stan’s thoughts. “You, uh, look kind of sthcary.”

Stan forced his jaw to unclench and released his fists, putting on his showman’s smile. “I was just thinkin’ about somethin’ else.”

“Stho… what’sth down there?” Wendy asked, her eyes bright. “Is it a zoo for all the weird stuff you put on display? A torture chamber? Is it a secret lab? Is it a portal to a magical land like on TV?”

“All right, all right, enough,” Stan said, putting a hand out and hoping his poker face was holding up. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. Look, it’s real important nobody knows about this place, or the vending machine, or anything, got it?”

Wendy’s face fell. “But it’sth stho cool! All my friendsth will think-”

Stan frantically interrupted. “No!” Then he took a calming breath. “No. Hey, I don’t know how to explain this, but sometimes there are mysteries that just shouldn’t be solved, right?”

“But-” Wendy started again.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Alright, whaddya want? How about that Jackalope plush in the Mystery Shack? It’s real popular with all the kids.”

“No.” Wendy said.

“OK, uh, some candy? I can get you, uh, let’s say… five pieces of candy every day for a month.”

“The candy you sthell at the Mysthtery Sthack?” Wendy stuck out her tongue. “That’sth losther candy, grossth.”

“What about if you win this year’s Mystery Hunt, huh? Getcha picture up on the wall and everything!”

“Nah. I’ll win it next year.” She sounded so certain, Stan made a mental note to actually lay down some clues next year to see if she really would.

“OK…” Stan was sweating now, his secret being blown and the only chance he had of getting his brother back along with it becoming a very real possibility, “Do ya want…” he gulped, and managed to choke out. “Money?”

Wendy thought about it for a moment, and Stan tried to stay calm, though he knew he was failing miserably. After everything he’s done, how could he be outsmarted by a ten year old kid? “Well?” he asked.

“I don’t want money either,” Wendy said, and Stan couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

But the relief was short lived. “So what can I do to make sure you don’t blab to anyone about this?” Stan asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

“A favor.” Wendy said with finality.

“A favor?” Stan repeated. Favors had been even more valuable than money when Stan was on the road. He still had a few he could cash in, and still owed a few himself… although he hoped those guys would never be able to find him with all his name changes. He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of favor?”

“I don’t know yet,” Wendy said. “But that’sth the point of a favor.”

Stan bent down to look her in the eyes. “One favor. One time. An’ it can’t have anything to do with this place.”

“Done,” Wendy stuck out her hand and Stan took it, giving it a shake to seal the deal.

“You sure you’re only ten?” Stan asked as they began to head up the stairs.

“I’m very mature for my age,” was the haughty reply.

“Yeah,” Stan said miserably. Great. After all of this, he owed a favor to a ten year old. But really, how bad could it be? She’d probably blow it in the first week on something dumb like ice cream or whatever, or if not, forget about the whole thing soon after that. Yeah. Everything was gonna be ok. Right?

“Hey, Wendy,” Stan said, shutting the vending machine behind them as they stood in the gift shop. “Seriously. You can’t tell anyone, OK?”

“I promisthe.” Wendy said, and made a motion like she was zipping her lip, then throwing a key away.

Stan sincerely smiled for the first time since he stepped into the gift shop. “A zipper and a lock, huh?”

“Doubly protected,” Wendy beamed at him. Then she suddenly broke into a run, stopping only to open the gift shop door. “Sthee you Mr. Pinesth!” she called, and was gone.

Stan allowed himself a sigh of relief. Something about that last exchange made him feel like she really was going to keep his secret. He glanced at the clock, noting only about ten minutes had passed. It had felt like a lifetime.

Yeah, maybe it was time for some mindless television.

To Stan’s great relief, the only thing that had changed after the Mystery Hunt was the winner’s photo on the wall (he was so distracted he didn’t even bother rolling his eyes at the fact that it was Bud Gleeful), and the code on the vending machine. And as the years passed, Stan rarely thought about the encounter, safe in his theory that the little girl had forgotten all about it.

But about five years later, the door to the gift shop jingled just before closing time, and Stan’s showman grin dropped as a fifteen year old Wendy Corduroy walked in.

He quickly put the smile back on, turning the wattage up to eleven. “Wendy!” he said, probably a little too loudly. “What brings you to the Mystery Shack?”

“Hey Mr. Pines,” she said, not looking him in the eye. “I, uh…”

“Spit it out, kid,” Stan said, terrified of the next few words.

Wendy muttered something.

“What?” Stan asked.

“I said I’m here to cash in on that favor!” Wendy burst out.

Stan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, at least he wouldn’t have that hanging over him anymore. Then he let out a big sigh and looked Wendy directly in the eye. “Honestly kid, I kinda hoped you forgot.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Wendy answered, adopting a casual pose, but still not looking at him. Huh. Was she… nervous? “And you have to give it to me, remember?”

“What, you want me to buy your friends some beer or somethin’? You gotta give me a few days so I can go to a store where they won’t recognize me-”

“I want a job.” Wendy spat out.

Stan’s eyes widened. “A job?” he asked. “Here?”

Wendy slumped on the cashier’s counter and looked up at the ceiling, and Stan was reminded of the ten year old girl complaining about her height five years ago. “My dad says if I don’t find a job by the end of the week he’s shipping me up north to work at my cousin’s logging camp. And I can’t go. The last thing I want to do is hang out with a bunch of lumberjacks during the hottest months of the year. And… you miss one summer with your friends, and they’re not your friends anymore.” She looked down at the counter, her fingers tracing a pattern in the wood. “I have two years until I get out of this place, but I don’t want to spend them alone. They’re the only things keeping me sane, y’know?”

Stan did know. He knew the feeling of having someone who made the whole stupid experience of growing up bearable, he knew the fear of losing that person, and he knew what it was like to actually lose them.

“Fine. But minimum wage is all you get paid, you get no sick days, and if I see you anywhere within two, no, three feet of that vending machine, I’ll drive ya to that lumberjack camp myself.” He stuck out a hand, but pulled it back when Wendy reached for it. “And absolutely no snooping around anywhere else either.”

Wendy smiled sincerely, a look of relief in her eyes. “Promise. Some things should just stay mysteries.”

“Exactly,” Stan said, and shook her hand. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack, kid.”

The morning after Ford returned, Stan stood on the porch in front of the gift shop, staring out into the forest but not looking at anything as his mind went a thousand miles a minute. He had thought bringing Ford back would solve all of his problems, but it only seemed to make everything worse. And now he had to figure out what he was going to do at the end of the summer.

“Morning, Mr. Pines,” a voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he focused to see Wendy strolling up to him.

He folded his arms and put on his ‘stern boss’ face. “What are you doin’ here? You’re never early for work. You’re hardly ever on time either.”

“There’s a first for everything,” Wendy said. “Just wanted to see if you got out of being arrested.”

“Heh. Looks like it.” Stan allowed himself a little grin, then his stern expression returned. “ ’Sides, the Shack is closed,” he continued. “For repairs. Again.” He shook his head slowly- this had been one crazy summer. He wondered if he should even bother fixing it this time around, since he was going to be kicked out soon anyway. “Go home.”

Wendy hesitated, but instead of turning around and booking it out of there, like Stan was sure she’d do, she stepped up on the porch and leaned on another pole so she was facing him. “So the big mystery was that you had a secret twin brother, huh? That’s kind of soap opera-y, don’t you think?”

He gave her a sharp look. “How-”

“Soos called me last night and filled me in.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment. “He had a lot of details.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, he never quite got my knack for telling stories.” He looked at Wendy. “Hey, I hope you didn’t need the job past the summer, I- I mean… my brother is… well, look, it’s time…” he gave up trying to come up with an explanation on the fly and simply said, “I’m closin’ the Shack.”

Wendy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, then she smirked. “No more Mystery Shack now that the mystery’s solved, huh?”

Stan smiled bitterly. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”

Wendy turned to go, then stopped. “Stan, I’m going to hate myself for asking this, but I’ll hate myself more if I don’t… do you need to talk? You know I’m good about keeping things quiet.”

Stan laughed. “Yeah, I do. But no, kid. I don’t wanna talk. Sometimes there are mysteries that just shouldn’t be solved, remember? But… thanks for helping me keep one of them.”

Wendy grinned. “Anytime, Mr. Mystery,” and started back to the parking lot.

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

Caskett at the old haunt with Ryan, espo and lanie

Shots. Shots were a bad idea. He wasn't even sure who's idea they were... probably his. He had a bad habit of showing off. He had probably challenged someone. Who knows. All he knew right was that they were all drunk. Beyond drunk. They were wasted.

They all ended up at The Old Haunt. It wasn't even planned. He had left earlier in the evening, trying to catch his staff during a lull to have an impromptu meeting. Nothing formal, just a check in. Trying to be a good boss... a present boss, not just the dude who owned the place.

By the time he resurfaced from the hidden basement, Ryan and Espo had arrived and were working on their first round of drinks. After the case they'd just solved, he knew it wasn't a one beer kind of night. He shot Beckett a quick text and joined the boys. She arrived with Lanie not long after.

The place had cleared out about an hour later, and Perry was closing up for the night. He had encouraged the ladies to take control of the new Juke Box Castle had installed, singing along with their song selections and laughing with them as they danced freely in the otherwise empty bar.

The young man approached the guys at their booth, shyly attempting to gain Castle's attention. "I'm all done now, Mr Castle. Are you sure you don't want me to call a cab?"

Castle rested his hand on Perry's shoulder. He was quite fond of the kid - a naïve 23, with that small-town charm that you just know you can trust. "I'm fine Perry. Go home, get some rest. I'll lock up."

He tilted his head in thanks. "Thanks, boss."

And then there were five...

"Boss?" Esposito's eyes lit up. "Boss!"

"You make the poor kid call you Boss?" Ryan teased.

Beckett's laugh echoed between songs as she made her way back to the booth. "He loves being called Boss. Don't ya, Castle." She snaked her hand across his chest, climbing into the booth beside him.

He smiled up at her, wrapping his arm around her waist as she leant into him. "You know... in just a few months, you'll be Mrs Boss."

"Ooh," she purred. "I like that."

"Oh yeah?" He pulled her closer, kissing her tenderly.

"Booo, get a room!" The boys pleaded, but Lanie's cheering only encouraged them.

"You two are like horny teenagers." She added, once they managed to pull themselves away from each other.

"I can't believe you guys are getting married" Espo mused, diffusing the tension and creating a much more sentimental energy in the air. He had watched his friends come so far over the years, and yet it still felt so... crazy.

"Remember when Castle first showed up?" Ryan started laughing at whatever memory he was thinking of. He obviously hadn't received the sentimental memo. "Dude, she hated you."

"She didn't hate me." Castle replied confidently, looking to Beckett for confirmation. She just smiled and shook her head, darting her eyes away from his. Guilty.

"I don't know... she certainly didn't like you." Lanie added. "I mean, I was telling her to get all over that from day one, but she was determined not to."

Castle theatrically shook his head, "Tsk, tsk... imagine if you had just listened to her." He quipped.

"It never would have worked out, Castle." She stated matter of factly, grinning at Lanie who had suffered through many of Beckett's logical, reasoning rants. "You were such a jackass."

She looked him in the eye, expecting to see some sort of defence. Instead, she saw... victory?

"Yeah... drove you wild, right?"

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"Isn't it?" He was cocky.

She attempted her best glare, but in her alcohol-infused haze it was seeming like a good thing. Without his constant irritation, the way he infiltrated her life... her thoughts... her heart.

She gave up on glaring, replacing the look with a warm smile. She reached for the near-empty glass she had been working on earlier and raised it in the air.

"To driving each other wild..." She toasted.

He reached for his glass, "May we continue to do so for the rest of our lives." He added, touching his glass to hers with a clink.

Their friends joined in the toast, touching their glasses together and gleefully cheering, "Cheers!"

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

Soooooo the previous homeowner was a landlord and rented our place out. This house had been a rental for decades, and we're discovering sooooo much fuckery. Not quite @thebibliosphere house cuthullu built...yet.

The house used to use a septic tank, but it was recently switched to city sewage. Except it was done illegally. The entire system is fucked up. Instead of a proper plumbing cleanout, it has a storm cleanout because the landlord set it up with that. Storm cleanouts move excess water into the storm drain stuff. Then he put a slotted cap thing on, and something called an exposed belly. All of this is illegal. It has resulted in waste coming up in the yard. If a cap is put on the cleanout, all the waste will back up into the house.

It will cost nearly $12k to repair and replace.

There's likely human waste in the ground, which is why there's a long ditch going from the house to the fence. It's causing the ground to sink.

Our real estate agent, who is also one of Bubby's D&D players, is gonna go through all the paperwork to see if this was even disclosed. Depending on what he finds, we're gonna take the previous owner to court. They'll be forced to pay for this, as well as pay any fines the city throws at him.

I wanna wring the guy's neck. This is one of the reasons I haaaaaate landlords. They're fucking cheap! Weekend warrior DIY crap. One house we lived in was twisting on it's foundation, resulting in plumbing fuckery. The basement walls were bending in as well. He used expanding foam to fill the cracks caused by all this. The house used gas for heating and cooking, and when he refused to make proper plumbing repairs (resulting in thr basement becoming a septic tank), I called the city inspector. Gas was shut off, the house was condemned, and we had to move out in the span if three days.

The first placed we lived in when we lived to Oregon? Not up to code anywhere. Corrugated metal roofing for the shower walls, tub set into the floor with no caulking or sealing which then resulted in ants and other bugs crawling up into the bathroom. The gas burning fireplace was removed, as well as the metal sheeting behind and under it. The sheeting was replaced with wood panel, the fireplace replaced with a heater meant for a houseboat, and the chimney wasn't properly seal. The whole thing less than two inches from the wall. Carpenter ants ate their way through several walls, a sign of dry rot, and the landlord put expanding foam in the walls while telling us to get ant traps. Carpenter ants don't eat that stuff. The house caught on fire. Shocker! Our insurance agent came through with the fire chief and both were checking off a lot list of shit not up to code. The landlord's insurance agent? All I heard was "what the fuck" over and over again.

We had a few more like that. Charge top dollar for crap quality, then complain when the tenant points out the shit-tastic illegal fixes.

We plan on doing massive remodeling, but first...massive repairing. The house was valued at $300k when we bought it. By the time we finish, it may be 3x that. Possibly more.

I fucking hate landlords. If any of you are landlords, un-fucking-follow me.