#make a whole city/town in my attic

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

Okay okay, so we all know the idea of like tiny aliens crashing in a humans yard. With said aliens being either a pilot who had a crash landing, or a team of scientists studying a new world. But what about an escape pod type situation.

Picture it! One day a person is just minding their business maybe they’re gardening outside or typing away at a computer when suddenly something crashes near them (Rip the window if they were inside)looking over they see a crashed alien space ship. Except it’s not slim like the movies and doesn’t even have guns on the side, at least visibly. It’s more bulky and more the size of a decent size rock, one requiring two hands at least. Anyway, a hatch opens and two small aliens step out holding strange weapons (cause ya know aliens) and they look around before seeing the human. Both sides freak out. The tiny aliens shout something back into the ship as they stand guard, but they are shaking.

The person after shaking of the shock of “holy shit aliens are real and they just ruined my roses” notices that the aliens aren’t wearing proper space suits, Nothing fancy at least, but rather normal clothing. No belts, no fancy equipment, something a more day to day person would wear; but what do they know about alien culture. Perhaps more then they think as they notice that through a few of the windows or even on the opened hatch, a few more aliens are appearing, looking out to gaze at the strange huge world they crashed on. That’s when the human figures out that this space ship isn’t for battle, transporting goods, or science. It’s most likely an escape pod, and a big one. Think ships that would transport immigrants to their new home but ya know space. That explains why the two “guards” aren’t trained, it probably wasn’t a super important ship and probably carried whatever the alien equivalent to a lower class was. Maybe this is reflected in the design of the ship, with it not being super fancy or have weapons.

Either way there are still aliens in the persons home. Maybe the human lowers themself down trying to be non-threatening towards the aliens. There’s clearly a language barrier and probably a non-verbal language barrier too. Perhaps the human decides they want to help the aliens and find out what happened. Destroyed home world? Escape of an evil Monarchy? Space Nazis? Who knows!

Somehow the aliens trust the human through very slow non-verbal communication with a few miscommunications with said communication. (How were they supposed to know that the hands up wasn’t peace but meant hungry?) Either way, the pick up the spaceship and all its passengers and puts them in a safer place. Let’s say the aliens and the human build a friendship, even though communication may not be possible, the two species learn a to understand and communicate anyway. Maybe through time the aliens and the human build a small city or settlement for all the aliens who arrived on the ship. Maybe using a pool table and a train table as a base and just slowly expanding to accommodate the growth.

Who knows what happens next. Perhaps they help the aliens rebuild their ship and fit it with a defense system, so that they can continue their journey, and maybe a few decide to stay with the human. Maybe the house is passed down from generation to generation, keeping the aliens secret until they decide it’s time to leave or simply becomes impossible due to population size. Perhaps the government gets involved and our once average human joe has to go and save all their tiny alien friends!

Just tiny aliens. Not all of them have to be scientists and pilots. Some are just people looking for a better place to live

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.46 Flames

I didn't bother doing a second class because I had a business matter I wanted to explore. The management team at the rec center would always have my gratitude for allowing me to host my classes, but as I said previously, it wasn't a sustainable solution. It rained too much in the autumn, and soon winter would be upon us. I needed an indoor solution, so I went downtown to Anchorpoint Wharf to see if I could find an unconventional space to rent, since I couldn't afford an entire building yet. If there was a backroom, basement, or attic I could use, or even an unfinished space, I could make it work.

I began my reconnaissance at the library. If it didn't say "library" on the sign, I wouldn't have known it was one when I walked in. The atrium was more like a mini art gallery, displaying works from local artists, I assumed. The rest of the downstairs was more like a community center with a breakroom outfitted with amenities for infants and a kids' play area. Upstairs looked more library-like, but unfortunately, it didn't have any obvious spaces I could rent.

I got hungry, so I found a street cart and had lunch. San Sequoia was definitely no sleepy town with its bold colors surging life into everything. Most of the colors didn't even match, but it worked so well, especially with the bridge towering over the city, tying it all together with its rusty hue. I loved how you could see it literally everywhere you went. San Sequoia had definitely become my favorite place I'd lived.

After lunch, I walked around the area, continuing my search for spaces. I stumbled upon an old movie theater and decided to take a break and see what they had going on. The movie was so boring, I couldn't even tell you what it was about. I was just so mad I wasted good money on that. Luckily, Yasmine called just as it was ending, so I ran out of the theater to answer.

She said she wanted to clarify our conversation from the other day. She liked me a lot and hoped her proposition didn't change how I felt about her. Then she asked me out! It was kind of thrilling to be on the other end of a date. I definitely needed some fun after that movie attempted to suck the life out of me, so I agreed to meet her at the pier in Copperdale.

I went home to shower and put an outfit together. It was only the pier, so I didn't make too much of an effort. Good thing too because it was so cold there. I had on my coat the whole time; I hated wasting good outfits.

I found Yasmine by the photo booth, and her outfit was definitely something to note. I never put much thought into my outerwear before, but the way she put her coat, hat, and jeans together had me second guessing my style choices.

"You look nice," I said.

"Thanks. Wanna take a pic with me?"

Me and Yasmine squeezed together in a tiny booth... I braced myself for whatever she planned to do to me in there because, if there was one thing I knew about her, it was she was bold and always went after what she wanted, and she definitely wanted me. She took full advantage of the lack of space and hugged up on me for our picture. We stepped out and waited for the picture to print, and just as I suspected, we looked like a very happy couple.

"Awww! We are so cute," she shouted. "I'm keeping this one."

I guess she should have a keepsake of our time together because that was the closest she was going to a relationship with me. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed spending time with her and was totally down for some casual, unattached adult fun. But that's all it could be.

"I hope you're not scared of heights," she said.

Yasmine and Luca trapped in a slow-moving hanging basket... The story wrote itself, and I fully expected her to suck my face off, but she behaved.

"Look," she yelled. "There's my house."

I looked at whatever dark blob of trees she pointed at, but saw nothing resembling a residence. Copperdale looked like a black forest from up high at night. I bet the view was spectacular in the daytime, though.

We got off the ride, and she checked in with me.

"Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, thanks. I didn't ride anything when we were here last, so I'm glad I got the chance."

"Come on!"

She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward our next destination. Her excitement about the rides was just like a child's; it was adorable.

"This is one of my favorite ones."

It had a scary, Spooky Day theme, and I wondered what we were about to get ourselves into, not that I was scared or anything. On the other side of the door was the line. When we finally made it to the ride, it was kind of like a mine cart we sat in. It took us around this haunted house while animatronics and actors in costume jumped out at us, attempting their best scare tactics. It was cute; I guess.

The next ride was similar except it was love themed, and we rode around in a boat. Every time I looked in her direction, she was looking at me with a twinkle in her eye. It seemed they made the ride for moments like that, and with the number of teenagers who frequented it, I probably was one of many who'd experienced their first kiss in there. But I didn't want to make any assumptions, despite knowing what she wanted from me. I scooted closer, letting her know I was into whatever she had in mind. Instead, she playfully smacked me on the shoulder and laughed. I didn't like that one bit.

She was still laughing when we got off the ride, but I was not.

"Come on, I was just kidding, Luca!"

I was a very confident sim, except when it came to romance. A joke like that could sever all shreds of confidence I thought I had. There was no way she could have known that, but still.

She stepped to me within whisper distance, and my entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames. Here it comes!

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," she said, yanking me into a deep, hungry kiss.

At first, I couldn't believe it was finally happening despite anticipating it all night. Once the shock of her lips colliding with mine wore off, I kissed her back just as hungrily. Every thought and dream that haunted me over the last few weeks fueled my hunger, and I could not get enough of her. I hoped this wasn't another cruel joke because my pants were getting too tight and I needed to go all the way.

"Come back to my place," she whispered.

I hoped she didn't live far. This was definitely not how I imagined my day ending, but I was totally down for the detour.

Need to catch up? See what you missed or start reading here!

[captainlunaxmen]

The Lady and the Lord

Chapter 10

Eddie Munson x fem!reader.

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: time to deal with the damages Vecna's done.

Chapter warnings: spoiler season 4, slight mention of rape, Andy, lots of cuteness.

Two days... two days since the Upside Down.

Apparently even if Steve, Nancy and Robin managed to kill Vecna, part of his plan succeded.

Four big gates spreading over the whole town, destroyed almost everything, then they stopped and retreated themselves... but they still did lots of damages around Hawkins.That's why a lot of people are now leaving the city.

Max is... okay... she's in a coma. According to the doctor she died for a whole minute, that's why just part of Vecna's plan succeded. Thankfully the doctors also say she's stable and there are a lot of chances she'll wake up soon. Lucas is with her everyday.

And... Eddie... we had lot of troubles bringing him back through the gate, but we did it.

At the hospital they didn't want to take him in, but I managed to talk to the chief and explained to him almost everything so.. he helped. Basically Eddie is fine. Still recovering, but he should be out soon.

Today we, as in Nancy, Robin, Steve, Dustin and I, are collecting some things to take to the Hawkins High school, to help those who got injured and left homeless by the "earthquake".

"Hey Nance! I found so.e more of your old stuff in the attic" Mrs Wheeler comes out of the house with a bix box in her arms.

Nancy quickly collects it and put it in the car.

"Someone order a pizza?" She then asks, earning confused looks from the rest of us.

"Pizza?" Dustin echoes.

We all turn to hear, before see, a horn blaring of a pizza van... stopping in front of the house.

"Oh my god" I let out a chuckle as we see Mike, Will, El, Jonathan and a guy with very long hair... impressive hair getting out of the vehicle.

Mike rushes to his mother, Nancy to Jonathan, Will and El coming towards me and Dustin.

I immediately pull El in for a hug, holding her close not believing she's actually here.

"Hi" I say.

"Hi" she replies tightening her hug.

"What... happened?" I let go to properly look at her, noticing her buzzed hair.

"Long story" she says.

"Hey you" I go to hug Will as Dustin hugs El.

"Hi, Y/n" He says "Where's Lucas?"

"He's at the hospital" Dustin answers.

"Was he hurt?" El asks.

"No. No, he's.."

"He's okay.. Max on the other hand, she's in a sort of coma. The doctors say she should wake up soon though... hopefully" I explain.

"We can take you see her, if you want" Nancy offers and El is quickly to nod her head yes.

Nancy, Jonathan, Mike, El, Will and Argyle, I think his name is, go to the hospital, then to Hopper's cabin, apparently El needs a place to hide, all while Robin, Steve, Dustin and I go to take the boxes to the high school.

"You got it, buddy?" Steve asks Dustin as we walk through the parking lot.

"I'm fine" he assures him. His leg isn't completely healed yet, but Dustin insisted on helping.

We enter the gym, the whole place is filled with people. Lot of them are volunteers, medics, but just as many, if not more, are now-homeless people, people who lost their close ones..

There a big board, covered in poster of missing people.

"Oh god.." I mutter to myself.

One of the girls responsible there smiles at us as we arrive to leave the boxes on the table in front of her.

"Hi"

"Hi"

"Uh, so these are blankets and sheets. And some... some clothes and... and some kids' toys" Robin explains.

"Wow" the girl, 'Melissa' says her name tag, is surprised "it's already so organized. We appreciate that. Do you want a tax receipt for it?" She then asks.

"Uh...No. I don't think that we need one. Thank you, though" Robin answers. "But is there anything else that we can do to help?"

I'm sent to give water to the people sitting in the gym, so is Dustin while Robin is making sandwiches and Steve is at the clothes section.

As I walk around offering glasses of water I notice a man at the missing posters board, he's taking one off to hang another.

I look a bit more attentively and notice it's for Eddie.

Oh my god, that must be Eddie's uncle. Hadn't anyone told him Eddie's okay?

I walk to Dustin.

"Can you hold these for a moment?" I ask him.

"Sure"

I give him the last three glasses of water and I make my way to the man and take a very deep breath.

"Hi, uh... sorry?" I try to catch his attention, he eventually turns around. "Are you... uh... are you Eddie's uncle?"

"That's me" he dryly replies. "What do you want?"

"I'm... can, uh.. can we talk, please?"

"I can't imagine we got anything to talk about. My nephew is innocent" he firmly says.

I look down with a small smile and notice the poster he took of just a moment before.

The old poster of Eddie is smeared with horns and "satanic" drawings... oh..

"I.. I know that, Mr Munson. Trust me" I tell him, looking up at him again.

"What?" He seems taken aback by that.

"I know Eddie, I know he's innocent. And I know he's not missing, sir. He's at the hospital. He got badly hurt during the... the earthquake, saving me..."

I see him letting out a big sigh of relief, going to sit down.

"You're not making fun of me?" He checks.

"I know the people around here are mean and likes to point their fingers at the first... different person they find.. and you have no reason to trust me, but I'm not lying, sir." I sit with him "Eddie is at the hospital. I don't know why no one warned you earlier"

"What's your name?" He asks.

"I'm Y/n L/n" I answer.

"Oh... I should've known right away... you're the Y/n my nephew always talks about" He chuckles and I feel my cheeks heating up at the thought of Eddie talking about me with his uncle.

"Can't seem to make him shut up about you, you know. God..." he chuckles again, relief written all over his face "for a moment I really thought he was dead... thank you"

"I actually should be the one thanking him, he was a true hero. He is." I chuckle nervously.

"I better go see him.. thank you, for telling me" he stands up shaking my hand, holding it in his. "Hope to see you again, Y/n."

"I hope so too."

As he walks away I call him again "actually... Uh. I know your trailer was one of those seriously damaged by the earthquake and... Eddie's gonna stay at mine for a while.. if you have no place to go, you're more than welcome" I offer.

"You're very kind, Eddie was right about that. But don't worry, I got a place to stay in. Just promise to take care of him?"

"Of course, sir"

"Thank you again" He answers with a sweet smile and walks away again.

I go to Steve to help him folding some shirts and sweaters, and I notice Robin talking and joking with Vickie at the table in front of us.

"Awe look at our baby.." I say.

"I'm so happy for her. She deserves this" Steve says.

"Definitely. Now we're gonna have to find someone for you. You too deserve that" I sweetly tell him as I start to fold some clothes.

"You're just saying that because you want to get rid of me" he jokes.

"Yeah... I mean.. I don't know how Eddie would take it to have you in the way... constantly. You know, a threesome every now and then, fine, but constantly? You're lots of work, Harrington" I laughs.

"Don't tempt me, honey. I still remember some things about that night" he jokes back.

"Oh shut up" I scold him playfully and he laughs.

"So... should I get from it that you and Eddie are a thing now?" He asks with a teasing tone.

"Maybe.." I shyly grin.

"Mhmm... he hurts you, he's dead." He says, suddenly serious.

"Yeah, sure Stevie. Sure" I give him a sceptical look.

"Hey... I can beat him up" He insists.

"I'm not saying anything, Stevie"

"I didn't like your tone, honey" he says.

"I'm messing with you" I nudge him "thank you.."

"For what? Handing you the shirts?" He jokes.

"Yeah that... and also.. for always looking out for me" I quietly say.

"Thank you for trusting me" he wraps one arm around my shoulders kissing my head.

"Now, please... don't say anything about Eddie to Dustin, not yet."

"Why?" Steve asks confused, getting back at folding some sweaters.

"Because he wanted to be the very first to know about me and Eddie so... don't say anything." I ask him with a chuckle.

"Sure" he laughs.

" I have to find the right way to tell him"

"why? He's been your number one fan all this time, he's gonna be enthusiastic" Steve tells me.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't want him to organise a wedding or... hear him say 'I told you'" I explain, mimicking Dustin's voice.

"Right... wait...Do I get to be the best man, right?" He jokes leaning onto me.

"You're gonna be my bridesmaid, Stevie." I tell him with a laugh.

There's a comical pause in which he actually considers it, before he speaks again "deal"

"I need to find a way to tell him without him freaking out too much, you gotta help me, okay?" I let out a nervous chuckle, when he doesn't answer right away I insist "Okay?"

"I don't think he's the one you should be worried about... on this 'boyfriend' matter" he tells me.

"Why?" I look up to him, but his eyes aren't on me, rather behind me.

I turn around curiously looking around the gym.

My eyes land on a very familiar figure... that can't be... Hopper?

"Steve..."

"Yes honey?"

"Tell me you see him too please." I shakily ask "I don't want to run to a complete stranger because I'm having hallucinations"

"Go hug him, honey." Steve gently pushes me forward and I immediately rush to the other side of the gym, making my way through the sea of people on the way.

I see him brightly smile at me as I get closer, he opens his arm as I jump at him wrapping my arms around his neck crying like a baby.

His arms are tightly wrapped around me.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here" he rubs my back, letting me back on the ground gently.

I notice Joyce next to him and I hug her too.

"Hey" she says kissing my head.

I let her go and turns back to Hopper.

"How... what... how?" I ask between sobs.

"Well... someone still owes me some snacks for movie night, right?" He jokes, his eyes wet from tears too.

"Shut up" I tell him, wiping away some tears, even if more falls from my eyes. "Oh my god... El! You already saw El? She's at..."

"I did, we stopped at the cabin and they were all there" He tells me.

"Now she looks just like you. You got the same haircut" I laugh, still wiping away some tears.

"Yeah, it looks better on her though" he laughs too.

Then I feel someone beside me, Steve arrived too.

"Hey" Steve greets Hopper, shaking his hand.

"Hey Cool-Hair, you took care of my daughter?" Hopper asks.

"Always, sir" Steve nods.

"Daughter?" I ask.

"I... I wanted to surprise you last year, before the mind flayer happened, but..I didn't get the chance" Hop says reaching behind him to his pocket.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"I left it at the cabin, thankfully it was still there when I went earlier." He hands me some papers.

"What... what is it?" I ask again, more confused.

"Adoption papers... all you need to do is sign it..." he nervously explain "if you want to, of course. And you're still gonna live in your house, I know how much you care about your independence... but.. yeah we can still be a family."

"I... I... I don't know what... to say" I stutter.

"Well, think about it, whether you sign it or not, you'll have to tell him about you and Eddie" Steve jokes. I glare at him and he turns back around walking back to the clothing section.

"Who's Eddie? And why there's a 'you and Eddie', uh?" Hopper asks.

"Jim..." Joyce warns him, a sweet smile on her face though.

"What? I'm away for a year and she got a boyfriend? I have the right to ask about it!" He defends, making me laugh.

"Yeah ask, not interrogate" Joyce insists.

Hooper just sighs, deeply, eyes softening when he looks back at me.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" He then asks.

I look down at the papers in my hand, more tears spilling out.

"Well, uh... do you.. do you have a pen?" I ask.

Joyce rushes to grab a pen and excitedly hands it to me, so I can sign the papers.

I'm gonna have a dad... oh shit. That's crazy.

I realised, during this last week, that I always got a family. Now.. now It's just official.

After I sign it, I hand the papers back to him, hugging him again, tightly.

"So, now that we're officially a family," he starts as he pulls away, wiping away more tears. "who's Eddie?

"Oh, I think I should get back to help Steve, you know." I start to walk away "he's not that good at folding shirts"

"This isn't over!" He tells me.

"I'm counting on it!" I yell back, with the biggest smile on my face.

I love how Steve completely gave up in complaining and just drives around wherever we want.

It's actually nice of him, I know he secretly likes doing it.

"Thanks again, Stevie" I tell him as he drives me and Dustin to the Hospital.

"Oh no problem, honey. Gotta check if the boyfriend is okay" he casually says.

"I still can't believe you told him before me!" Dustin complains.

"How many times do I have to ask for forgiveness?" I ask, holding back a chuckle.

"I already forgave you. Also, me constantly telling you 'I told you so' is just enough punishment" he replies.

"You're lucky I love you, Dusty" I semi-warn him.

"Well.. he did tell you" Steve chimes in.

"I warn you too, Harrington" I tell him pointing a finger at him.

"What are you gonna do, uh? Spank me?" He laughs.

"Hey! She's taken, dude. Enough of that" Dustin scold Steve.

"Calm down, Dustin. No risk here anymore" Steve reassures him.

"You better." Dustin sends Steve a glare through the rearview mirror, then realises what he says "wait... anymore?"

"Oh god.." I laugh. "Enough with this, alright? Also... we didn't define anything yet. He was too busy bleeding out to talk about... whatever this is"

"What do you mean? It's pretty obvious he wants you to be his girlfriend" Steve says as a matter of fact.

"Still... we haven't talked about it yet." I tell them.

"Ready for another round of 'I told you's, Henderson?" Steve asks.

"Always"

"I don't like you guys teaming up against me" I laugh.

"You do that all the time with him against me!" Steve complains, with a chuckle.

"Yeah.. because that's fun!" I reply as he parks the car.

We get out of the car and make our way in the hospital.

We go to the table and ask one of the nurses for Max's room and Eddie's. After showing us the way he went back to his desk and we got into Max's room first, finding Lucas still there.

"Hey Lucas" I greet him with a hug and then I go to sit beside Max's bed.

She's still unconscious, but she... looks fine. I think.

"Hey yourself" I softly say to her.

"Thanks for coming" Lucas then tells us as he sit beside me.

"How couldn't we?" Dustin replies with a smile.

"Your eye looks better" I notice looking at his face.

"Yeah, it feels better too"

If I ever find Jason in front of me again, I swear he's done. Beating up a fourteen year-old... fuck's sake.

"Jason's lucky I wasn't there.." Steve comments, rightly mad.

"With all respect, Steve, but I think Y/n here would kick his ass better than you" Dustin shrugs and I let out a small chuckle, while Lucas laughs.

"Thank you very much, Henderson" Steve rolls his eyes.

"Aww, Stevie, we know you could've taken him." I sarcastically say.

"You're on thin ice, Honey" he warns me.

I stick my tongue out at him and go back at looking at Max. She's completely still, obviously yeah, but it's still a painful sight.

"Did the doctors say anything else?" I ask Lucas, not once looking away from Max.

"They just say she's actually doing great, that she'll probably wake up soon" he answers.

"That's.. that's good" I slightly smile at him before moving my attention back to Max.

"Hey, guys, why don't you go buy something to eat, uh? Have a walk, Sinclair. We'll stay here" Steve suggests them.

Dustin and Lucas accept and walk out of the room.

"You good?" Steve takes Lucas' place beside me.

"Yeah.. yeah. It's just hard seeing her like this. Even though the doctors are positive she'll wake up soon... it's still hard. All of that to keep her save and..." I take a deep breath.

"I know" he gently grabs one of my hand "I know. When we killed Vecna, we went down to see his body and then... we heard the grandfather clock chiming, in that moment.. in that moment, I swear I felt.. I felt like dying myself. I couldn't believe we failed" he sincerely tells me and I squeeze his hand to reassure him "but thankfully... we didn't.. or not completely at least. But I still can't not think about how we could've prevented it..."

"You couldn't know, Steve, we couldn't know. That was the biggest risk all along. But we did it, uh? Once again we fucking did it." I look at him, giving him a small smile as my eyes start watering "as always"

"We fucking did it" he nods with a smile.

"And she's gonna be fine and everything is going to be okay"

"Oh definitely, if Mayfield doesn't wake up, I'll kill her" he jokes.

"I'll help you." I laugh and Steve does the same.

In that moment Dustin and Lucas come back with some food for us too.

"We stopped by Eddie's room on the way back, he looks good" Dustin says.

"You talked to him?"

"Yeah, he just feels a little tired he says. You should.. see your boyfriend" Dustin teases.

"Ooh so it's official?" Lucas asks with a small grin.

"No. Nothing's official. And you, Dusty, you're lucky we almost lost two of us, otherwise you'd be dead now" I say as stand up walking to the door.

"You're not coming, Steve?" I ask.

"I'll just leave you two some room, I'll come later" he winks and I just roll my eyes before exiting and heading to Eddie's room.

On my way there, in an almost empty hallway, I bump into someone.

"Sorry" I quietly apologise.

"No worries, baby"

You've got to be kidding me.

I look up seeing Andy right on front of me with a disgusting grin on his face.

What the hell is he doing here? Oh.. righ... Jason's been injured too.

I quickly move to the side to walk past him, but he blocks my way, making me roll my eyes.

"What are you doing here, uh? Came here to apologise?" He asks.

"I'm..." I stutter " w-wait... apologies? Why would I apologise?" I ask, rather confused.

"Well, you haven't been very kind last time we saw each other... threatening to use a shotgun against us..." he says it like the most obvious thing in the world.

"You first threatened to rape me, then you threatened my friend... I don't think I should be the one fucking apologising" I tell him, shocked.

"Hey, hey, hey, Where's the sweet girl gone?" He jokes getting closer, making me take a few steps back. "Uh? C'mon, baby. Why don't we get out of here?"

"No.." I move back again, but he follows quickly.

"Oh, why? You got better plans?" He asks.

"Yes" I try to sound firm, but I know my voice breaks a little.

"Like what?"

"Seeing my friends" I answer.

"You're not here to see Munson, are you?"

"Yes... yes I am" I try to walk past him again, but once again he grabs my hips pulling me to him.

I put my hands on his arms to push him away, but he doesn't bulge.

"You look so cute when you struggle. I'm sure I could show you a better time than him." he leans down towards me.

"I said no" I hit him in the crotch with my knee, making him hiss in pain and let me go. "Don't fucking touch me"

I walk away to Eddie's room and once I find it I enter, as fast as I can.

"What a beautiful sight... hey what's wrong?"

Oh... it's so nice to hear his voice again..

I turn around walking to him, sitting on the bed with him. Eddie just looks at me worried and confused.

"Just a dickhead who can't seem to accept 'no' as an answer" I shrug.

"Oh my" he starts, but I cut him off.

"I hit him in the balls. Hopefully he understands this" I tell Eddie and he just bursts out laughing.

"Oh god... I wish I saw that" he says "my brave girl"

"Shut up.." I look down.

"Still so shy, aren't we?" He teases.

"Me? Never" I sarcastically say and he gently grabs my hand in his playing with my fingers. "You okay?" I ask him.

"Now that you're here... so much better" he grins at me.

"You're terrible..." I playfully roll my eyes "but seriously... are you okay?"

"Yeah, yes m'lady. I'm okay. They patched me up good" he softly chuckles.

"That's good" I smile at him and I see his eyes moving between my own and my lips. "You'll kiss me properly" I tell him.

"Oh c'mon!" He complains, but laugh too and I just shake my head "You're being cruel now, you know that?"

"It was the deal" I shrug.

"The deal included, also, anything else" he hints, teasingly.

"It still does" I wink at him.

"Oh christ... be mine" he suddenly says.

"What?" I ask, taken aback by his words.

"Would you be my girlfriend? Like... officially?" He sweetly smiles at me and, I swear, I could just melt for how softly his eyes are looking at me right now. "And before you could answer. Yes, Dustin talked to me, but no it wasn't because of him I'm asking you. Yes, I'm asking you because I like you, a lot" he smiles at me "Aaaand... Yes, I know Hopper's your father now, like officially your father now and I am ready to meet him, whenever he wants"

That makes me laugh, genuinely.

"I would've said yes, even if you weren't ready, my lord"

"I know... but I still wanted you to know." He move my hand to his lips kissing it gently, making me look away.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Munson" I tell him.

"The feeling is mutual, m'lady" he winks and then smiles. "Are you still sure you want me to stay at your place?" He then asks.

"Positive" I nod "why wouldn't I?"

"Well maybe Hopper has something to say about that" he tells me with a shrug.

"He's fine... I guess, he doesn't have much of a choice. I told him I made a promise to your uncle and he couldn't argue that." I reply with a reassuring smile.

"Oh about that... Wayne wants to.. have dinner all together one of these days.. you know" he's slightly nervous again, playing with my fingers and rings "he insists on buying us dinner to.. get to know you better"

"Why so nervous, love?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It would be the first time I introduce someone to him" he answers with a timid smile looking me in the eyes "it's a big deal"

"Well then, I accept his invitation. But... next time I'll cook" I tell him.

"Oh well you'll have to talk with him about that. I want nothing to do with this" he raises his hand up.

I laugh and move my gaze to his hands as he lowers them back to his lap.

Shit...What if his uncle finds me boring, or he hates me? I'm gonna make a fool of myself, I know.

I never thought I'd be the kind of girl someone would want to introduce to their relatives... it's gonna be a disaster.

"Where's that mind going, m'lady?" Eddie's voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Uh?"

"What troubles my lady's mind?" He grabs my hands caressing them.

"Nothing... it's stupid" I shake my head.

"Mmh..." he considers me for a moment "Nah, that can't be. Tell me" he moves his head sideways, a pout on his lips "please?"

"Just... overthinking.." I answer.

"About what?" He sits up straight again.

"Oh nothing... just what if he ends up hating me?" I softly say.

"Yeah.. as if that's even possible" Eddie chuckles, but his eyes are gentle. "He already loves you. I talked so much about you, it's like he already knows you"

I laugh, still embarrassed he actually talked about me to his uncle... it's sweet.

"And trust me... I said all good thing"

"You did?" I ask, shyly meeting his eyes.

"Oh yeah. I started to tell him about you after I brought you home, after out project meeting." He starts, fingers interlocking with mine as he speaks "he asked me why I was so late and I told him I had to take home the most beautiful girl in the world"

"Oh shut it.." I say, feeling my cheeks warming up.

"Then everyday I would tell him what those little shits told me about you... I'd tell him about how sweet you looked that day, how kind you always are with everyone.. and also I'd ask him what could I have done to approach you again, without scaring you"

"You could have never scared me, Eddie." I gently tell him chucking.

"That's one of the many things that attracted me to you. 'How come such a sweet girl isn't afraid of me?' I asked myself, you know... seeing what everyone says about me." He continues "Dustin then told me how little you care about what everyone says, that's when I started to get obsessed" he laughs "always looking your way, hoping you would notice me"

"I always noticed you" I tell him "whenever the professors forced you to sit in the front row I take a look at you. At your vest, trying to see if there are any new patch on it. In the cafeteria, I always hoped you put on one of your 'shows' so I had a good excuse to look at you and not just stare" I let out a small laugh "and obviously, Dustin started to talk more and more about you and about the campaigns you make, your jokes and about how you were the only person in high school to treat them... well.. not like shit." I squeeze his hands "I always noticed you... I just never thought you would notice me"

"Well, we always noticed each other..."

"But none of us had enough courage to speak to the other" I finish for him, with a chuckle.

"Exactly." He nods "Oh well.. now we'll just have to make it up for the lost time, uh?" He winks.

"Of course" I smile.

A knock interrupts us.

"Yes?"

"It's Steve. Can I come in?" Steve asks.

"Does he have to?" Eddie jokes.

"Sure!" I tell Steve.

"Hey, man" he enters and walk to us. "How do you feel?"

"Oh all good." Eddie replies "especially with her right here"

"I told you to stop it" I shyly laugh.

"And I told you... never" he replies smugly.

"Is it official? Like.. you guys..." Steve starts.

"Yes, Steve. Okay?" I say with an exasperated laugh.

"So... I can finally to 'The Speech', yeah?" He asks me, hopeful.

"Oh god.." I hide behind my hand.

"C'mon, Harrington, scare me." Eddie listens carefully.

"Listen, man. We all care about you, that's true. But... if you dare hurt Y/n, I promise you, I personally will hunt you down and you wouldn't want me to find you. You'd regret those bats." Steve tries to sound threatening.

"Don't worry Harrington, if I ever hurt her, I'd gladly let you kick my ass. I'd deserve that" Eddie replies, calmly.

"I don't need you to 'let me' kick your ass, man... I could take you" Steve insists.

"With all due respect... I'm much more scared of the younger Sinclair" Eddie says honestly.

"Told you, Stevie."

"Also... she could easily kick my ass better than you" Eddie adds pointing at me.

"Alright, fuck you guys" Steve just shrugs, defeated.

"Oh c'mon." I laugh "come here" I grab a chair and put it next to the bed so Steve can sit with us.

"You sure you're good?" He checks again.

"Yeah, Harrington. I'm good, surprisingly good." Eddie answers ad he keeps playing with my fingers. "Plus I got a cute girl helping me, right?" He looks at me.

"Anytime" I smile at him.

"That's good, man. You faced the worst of the worst and look at you, still with us. Only a few scratches" Steve tries to cheer him up.

"Yeah, got some big scars.." Eddie replies, quietly. Feigning confidence, but I think there's more than that. Before I could say something he continues "like yours, big boy, uh?"

"Scar-brothers, you should start a band now" I joke, squeezing Eddie's hand, silently reassuring him.

"Cool name. We're gonna drop 'corroded coffin' and make new t-shirts" he chuckles.

"I'll make the logo" I offer.

"Oh then you're gonna be famous for sure" Steve teases.

"Obviously" Eddie agrees.

"I think we should go though. I have a shift at family video today" Steve tells me.

"Oh.. yeah don't worry" I say "give us a minute, okay?"

"Sure" he smiles. "Get well soon, alright? I don't think I could stand Henderson alone for much longer" he jokes.

"Don't worry, I heal quickly" Eddie assures him.

"Good" Steve walks to the door "can I still call her 'honey' or is it forbidden?" He asks then.

"You ask her, not me" Eddie replies.

Good answer, I think.

I just laugh "as always Stevie. Me having a boyfriend doesn't mean you can't be my friend anymore"

"Just checking. Okay, see you at the car, honey" he finally leaves.

I shake my head chuckling.

"He cares a lot about you" he notes.

"Yeah, well... we've been friends for centuries basically" I smile at him again.

"Hey.. uh... thanks for visiting today" he leans his head to the wall behind him.

"No need to thank me, my lord. I'm just glad you're okay" I tell him "you scared the shit out of me" I then admit.

"I'm sorry" he smiles a little. "But I'd do that again if it means you're gonna be fine"

"So would I" I tell him.

"Oh no, no, I'm more expendable, you let me risk my life" he defends.

"Yeah.. sure, as if I'd let you" I laugh confidently.

"I don't need your permission" he chuckles surprised.

"Neither do I" I smirk.

He just laughs, happily, and I do too.

"Should I tell you what you do to me when you get so cocky, or it's too soon?" He wonders with a teasing grin.

"Let it be a surprise" I say getting up. "I better go. I don't want to be the reason Steve's gonna get fired... or I'll never hear the end of it"

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" He asks. "I mean... I get out tomorrow"

"Oh no, you'll never see me again, my lord I say dramatically with a small laugh.

"Then kiss me and say goodbye properly, m'lady" he follows my joke.

"Fair point.. you got me" I laugh, then sweetly smile at him. I lean down to give him a peck on the cheek.

"Can't wait, m'lady" he bows his head a little.

I walk to the door and, before walking out, I blow him a kiss which he gladly catches and theatrically place it on his lips.

"See you tomorrow, love" I tell him and I walk out of the door as I hear him again.

"I fucking love it when you call me that!"

I laugh rolling my eyes and head out to Steve's car.

[vvatchword]

You've experienced a haunting? :O

Yeah. It's a long story. And it was a hugely formative part of my life. It's a reason I left Christianity and baffles me to this day.

I'm actually at a point where I can say you may have read or heard this somewhere because I posted it on reddit. Imagine how that went down.

Are you ready? Get a big ol' hot drink or something. I'm copy-pasta'ing this thing because it takes forever to do. At least it's more readable this way.

When I was 10, we moved to a new house in the country. A cozy, homey place, very comfortable; when i think of home, i think of it. I often miss it, and i like to imagine i will go back and buy it someday (lol Millennial nonsense).

That said, it was the oddest damn house. From what I understand, it had started life in a nearby town before being physically moved about six miles outside city limits. Someone then tacked on about 25% more house--i think the family who lived there before us did the work. I'm told it was some creative DIY. Anyway. They tacked on a new master bedroom and bath and extended the living room, then an enclosed, screened-in back porch.

My parents got the new master. My sister and i got the original master, behind which was this newer porch add-on. I have no idea why they added that porch because it made our room dark af all the time. The moon had to be large and set or rise at just the right times for us to get light in there at night.

A whole year passed very happily. We liked the house. But sometimes--about thirty minutes to an hour after my sister and I turned the light off in our room--something would start bumping in the attic. Big thump, thump, thumps, like someone with two peg legs stamping around in circles. My sister and i called this "the Thump Bumps." We'd make up whole stories about them. Honestly, I think if my unexplained experiences had remained this simple, I would have chalked it up as rats, which we definitely had.

The thing is, I've since dealt with rats, both wild and tame, and while it's not impossible for them to make such sounds--why constant circles? Why did it sound so heavy? If it were that heavy, you'd think the rat was jumping, and if it were jumping, you'd hear the answering "slap" of its tail. Also, rats have their own little lives to run; they're not automata. Why take enormous, bodily leaps in circles and circles in a steady, rhythmic pattern for two to three hours at a time?

But whatever. We weren't afraid. It was odd, not bad.

Stop Touching My Toys

Early summer rolled in. I had recently turned 11. I woke up suddenly one night. I heard someone doing dishes. Running water, dishes clinking against one another. It was black as sin--which meant someone was doing dishes in the dark. I glanced at my clock. 2 AM. O-kay. Well, i was thirsty, so i got up. Just as i reached the end of the hall--just as i turned the corner to the living room--the sound just cut off like someone had hit "stop" on a tape player. There was no squeak of the faucet handle being twisted or the stream slowing to a trickle or dishes being set down. The sound stopped mid-splash, mid-clink.

Complete silence.

Nervous now, but committed, i slinked into the kitchen. The sink was bone dry and everything clean. Why shouldn't it have been when we had finished all the dishes the night before? I still have a clear memory of the moonlight glinting off of the faucet. I didn't know what to think of it, but nothing seemed awry. I drank my water and went to bed.

I don't know how long passed, only that it was summer and Sunday. That morning, i had been playing with my toy dinosaurs, of which i had five--velociraptor, iguanodon, brachiosaurus, styracosaurus, and... i forget the last but it was an herbivore. I had lined them up on my bed very neatly before heading off to church. I was last out of the house because my dinosaurs were important business. Well, when we finally returned, my parents unlocked the door, and in we tromped: brother first, who turned into his room ahead of me, and me second.

I stopped right in the doorway and I felt real fear for the first time. My dinosaurs were no longer lined up on my bed, but scattered across it, like they had been played with. One was lying under the bed; one was lying halfway under my pillow; one was lying at the foot of the bed. Worst of all, my velociraptor had been jammed together with the iguanodon, like they were locked in battle.

This one bothers me a lot because it's scary no matter how I interpret it. If it wasn't spirit shenanigans--it was human shenanigans. My family might have done it, but whom? Dad was unimaginative, Mom was busy, and although my sister or brother would be excellent suspects, I had been last out of the house precisely because I had spent time lining the dinosaurs up. I think I asked my sister if she had done anything and she said no.

Also, the style of play counts out the animal members of the family; to get that iguanodon into my Velociraptor's arms would have necessitated a great deal of shoving and twisting. We had a Labrador retriever and many barn cats, but all of them were outside.

If not my family, this implies that a stranger broke into the house, only played with my dinosaurs, and then left without doing anything else. Which, frankly, is also terrible. In fact, there is nothing scarier than a human being, and I'd prefer ghosts to them any day, but I guess I'm getting off topic now.

So I'm seriously unnerved by this point. I start connecting dots and I don't like what they suggest. I put my dinosaurs away and tell no one.

It Gets Worse

Well, not long after, I wake up in the middle of the night. It is unbelievably dark in this room, but that's normal. I was very cozy, deliciously rested, safe, snug. One problem: my left arm was sticking up out of the covers at an awkward angle, like i was trying to slap the ceiling. It was actually uncomfortable, but i was so relaxed that i didn't want to move, even to put my arm down.

Suddenly, a warm adult hand presses down against mine. It drags down against my palm. The ball of their hand catches on the ball of mine. The skin is rough and moist. I can feel all the fingers. It drags off and flops away. It was like being high-fived by a zombie.

I jerked my hand under the covers. I am now wide awake. I stare into the inky black and i listen intently. I realize that i can't hear my sister breathing. I can't hear anything. Oh, god, i wanted to hear something, anything. I lie there, not daring to move a muscle, straining my eyes and ears. I was certain there was a person there in the darkness, but i couldn't hear them at all. I was sure they'd speak. They'd have to speak, right? You don't high-five strangers in the night and then not talk about it, right?

I don't know how long I waited but eventually, I slept. And when i woke up the next morning, i didn't say anything about it to anyone. I listened to everyone at the breakfast table and nobody mentioned coming into my room or seeing weird strangers in the night. I honestly didn't know what to think about it. I had been wide awake, i knew it! A sleep-walker, perhaps? Maybe my sister? My mother? But no one was a sleep-walker that i knew about.

I decided to put it behind me. Again, I told no one.

That very night, I wake up again. Wide awake. There's a little bit of moonlight but thanks to that goddamn porch it's a mere sliver on the windowsill behind me. It spent all of its strength just getting there; it can illuminate nothing. And this time--this time, I felt like i was waiting. I tried not to wait. I told myself I woke up in the middle of the night all of the time. I was absolutely not going to give any more high-fives to night people. I had my arms under the covers and everything.

A few minutes later, I hear my brother shuffle out of his room. I immediately relaxed. Oh, thank god, just bro. He was probably going to the bathroom.

Instead of walking to the bathroom, which was right across from his room, he shuffled to the end of the hall.

Okay, so he's getting a drink. Fair enough.

But then he turned around at the end of the hall and shuffled back. Alarm bells started jangling in the pit of my stomach. I froze in place and listened.

He reached the door to my room, then turned around and shuffled back to the end of the hallway, then turned around, shuffled back towards my door. He did this about four or five times. I was getting increasingly more concerned.

Finally, I sat up in bed. The shuffling had reached my door once more. I could see nothing.

"Sam?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

Complete and utter silence. My heart started crawling up into my throat. Please say something, come on, say anything!

Then the shuffling began again

AT THE OTHER END OF THE HALLWAY.

I flew under the covers, which is where I lay for hours while a barefoot ghost shuffled back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. My door is open, it can come in, it can see me, oh my gosh!

But you know what's wild? I fell asleep. All it was doing was shuffling. The sound became tiresome and i was tired. I guess shuffling isn't that bad? Better than nonconsensual high-fives for sure.

The next morning, i was again left with a conundrum: "Do I tell someone?" What the hell does one say about something like this, and what did I expect anyone to DO about it? The thing could teleport. Its ability to do dishes transcended time and space. I didn't know what it wanted. I didn't even know what it was. I wasn't even sure I could trust my experience. It was just so goddamn weird.

For the record, my family was one step above Christian fundamentalism. Southern evangelicals believe in a spirit world of blacks and whites: either a spirit is God's or it's the devil's. There is no middle ground. They also don't tend to believe that ghosts are the returned dead, but actors of spiritual anarchy, there to confuse the faithful and lead them astray.

Well, I was an extremely devout child. I'd read a lot about devils. They came in groups, they were destructive, they caused mayhem, they were almost unimaginably wicked.

My spirit-thing had exercised in the hallway and high-fived me.

So, you know, not sure how to categorize that.

Again, I opted to say nothing. I was hyper-alert when i was in the house, but it was normal and comfortable in the daytime. I decided tonight was going to be better. I prayed and I read my Bible.

On My Own

I woke up that night. Wide awake. This time there was no waiting: shuffling started at the far end of the hallway. It walked up to my door and it did not stop. It walked into my room.

My bedroom's floorplan was like so: sister's bed toward the inside of the room, and my bed sat in front of the hallway. There was an E-shaped walking space. And my new shuffle-buddy was like, hell yeah, I love to shuffle in pathways shaped like a capital E. Let's see how many circuits i can make of this bad boy.

It was summer and I had thrown off everything but a single thin sheet. This creepy fucking bastard started poking me through the sheet. It poked the sides of my arms and legs and hips. It had a lot of fingers, but generally, it would poke me on the side it was walking. Also, the fingers were preternaturally small. I kept hoping i was imagining it. Maybe it was the fan. Let it be the fan just whiffing on the sheets.

"Lol," said the ghost, probably.

Did I fall asleep this time? Absolutely fucking not. I lay there absolutely still, barely daring to breathe, for I don't know how long. I kept hoping my sister would get up.

Eventually, the room started lightening. Dawn was coming. I started straining my eyes again. Soon it would grow light enough for me to see my tormentor.

The shuffling stopped at the head of my bed. I heard three drawn-out sighs in a woman's voice. Each one was identical to the one before, like a recording being played.

And, just like that, it was gone.

I launched out of bed like it was Cape Canaveral. To my surprise, my sister followed me immediately. I was angry at first, like, you mean YOU didn't do anything? (She was 9, idk what I thought she was going to do.)

I threw myself into my mom's bed and started babbling about ghosts. There was a ghost in my room it was walking around my bed and it was touching me and it sighed and it high-fived me and why wasn't my mom looking concerned? Why did she look crabby?

"Watchword, please, stop," Mom said. "You're going to scare your sister."

I frantically turned to my sister. She stared at me blankly and said nothing. I realized she must have jumped out of bed because i had disturbed her, not because the ghost had woken her up.

This was beside the fact: my mother didn't believe me.

I hate to tell y'all this but i would routinely lie as a child. I'm not talking about mundane activities like whether i had cleaned my room or finished homework. I'm talking about, "Today I saw a dragon while i was riding the bus!" Or, "I found a magical pool full of fairies!"

The only thing worse than being disbelieved by my own mother was the realization that i had played myself. I was the boy who cried wolf, but instead of wolves it was Shuffles, chore-ghost.

I was on my own.

Jesus Magic

So that night, i prayed before i went to bed, and i threw on my comforter even though it was uncomfortably warm. When I woke up suddenly that night, right on the dot, i woke up afraid--and mad. Like let's throw hands bitch. If Mom wasn't going to help me, i was going to help myself.

Right on schedule, the thing shuffles from the end of the hallway into the room and begins shuffling. Moonlight was starting to pool on the floor but it wasn't illuminating and the ghost wasn't getting very close to it.

Thankfully, no more poking.

Shuffles had only gotten three-fourths of the way into its cycle when i leaped out of my bed. I balled my hands into fists. I stood straight and threw my shoulders back. This was great and everything but this was as far as I'd planned. Also, I was 11 years old. Nobody is afraid of babies except for smaller babies.

The ghost stopped. I could feel it regarding me from a corner. It felt so apathetic. Like it really didn't care, but go off, i guess.

I groped around for something to say and pulled off the verbal equivalent of the housewife who starts throwing flowerpots and ballpoint pens at a home intruder.

"You'd better not hurt my sister," I said loudly, hoping my sister would wake up (she did not).

Silence. I stood there, feeling dumber by the second. Was I going to try and fist-fight a ghost who could teleport? After a couple of extremely awkward minutes, I lay back down, and just like that, Shuffles started walking again. I spent the rest of the night wide awake and in despair.

Again, as the dawn light began to fill the room, and just before I could see anything, the ghost sighed three times--each time identical--and was gone.

Again, i sprang out of bed and marched to my parents' room.

My dad had come home the night before. He often worked at faraway locations for weeks at a time. So as I tried to tell Mom what had happened, he leaned up on an elbow and listened.

He believed me!

Mom tried to tell him I told stories like that all the time. I don't remember the exact gist of the conversation, but he prayed with me, and I felt better.

That night was Wednesday night church. Dad put in a prayer request for me and sang a special song he'd selected that mirrored my fears. I felt so seen and so cared-for. And that night, he prayed over my doorway, asking God to put an angel there. He also told me what to say if the ghost showed up.

I went to sleep elated.

I woke up that night again. This time I was just buzzing with excitement. Was I about to see a ghost fight an angel?

The shuffling started at the end of the hallway. It grew closer and closer. I was so afraid that i might have to face the ghost myself. I waited for any sign that the prayer had worked.

Shuffles shuffled straight through the door. Didn't even hesitate. Shuffled right beside the bed. This time the moonlight fell far enough that I should have seen something walking--pressing into the carpet, at least, right? But I could see nothing at all.

My heart sank. I sat up anyway. Shuffles stopped right beside me. I could feel it regarding me.

"In the name of Jesus," i said, "get out of this house and never come back."

Huge, pregnant silence.

Then: "Haaaaah." One long woman's sigh, identical to all the ones before. And just like that, it was gone.

I was able to sleep the rest of the night, and the next morning i raced up to Dad and gave him a huge hug and told him it had worked!

Now, I've got to interject a note here. I am no longer an evangelical, but an atheist. This one experience kept me religious longer than i might have been otherwise. It was also the seed of some doubt and thought... because, like a bad horror movie, it didn't end.

This Is the Song That Never Ends

Early fall, about 6 in the afternoon, I was sitting in my brother's room, reading a racist primer from the fifties, as one does. I started to feel uncomfortable. I felt like I was being watched and i couldn't pay attention to the text. My eyes kept sliding over the words.

I wanted to get up and leave. But when I really thought about it, I got a bit tetchy.

"No," I thought. "There is absolutely no reason to leave. I won't."

I started just staring at the page, doing no reading at all, as the uncomfortable feeling grew and grew and grew.

Then, from the door: "HAAAH." A man's sigh, but like the woman's sigh pitched down.

I flung the book and sprang. When I hit the doorway, i passed through a heavy coldness. Hit the hallway. Realized the hallway was downright hot compared to the room--probably a difference of fifteen to twenty degrees. What's more, passing through that coldness was like stepping through a door. As i walked into the living room, i marveled. Dad was watching Wheel of Fortune turned way up, bro was on the computer, Mom and sister were cooking and conversing loudly.

When I had been in that room, I hadn't heard anything. It had been completely silent.

After that, all obviously weird activity dropped off precipitously. It didn't end, though. A number of small, bizarre things followed me into my mid-twenties. At one point, I had a customer tell me I had an angel, and I said, "HAHA no. No thanks."

I have my theories; that's all they are. Mostly, I want nothing to do with it. I ain't going into no haunted houses, y'all. I don't trust something that can look or sound like anything it wants. I can't understand their motivations and that alone is reason to stay far, far away.

I became an atheist. I was able to explain away a lot of nonsense i had thought was miraculous as a child. I haven't been able to explain this. And honestly? I'm kind of grateful. Keeps me humble. I feel like it was a truly rare experience.

[nervouscloudtheorist]

May 23rd 2024

Dear Diary,

I'M HERE!! I'M HERE!!

I don't remember what happened in the last week. The last thing I remember is that Katrina ( the fortune teller ) was in town.As the great person I am who fully believes in science, I had her check my fortune to see what I could do to make me lucky. You know because I had a theory and I needed to test it. She said I needed to wear a dress for good luck but dresses really clash my style so I wasn't doing that.

I walked outside of the tent and then everything went black.

Then I was back on that island I dream about. It was cheery blossom season and I was able to catch the petals. They were so bright pink. I thought it was odd because generally you see cherry blossoms in April and not May, but I didn't think too much about it because everyone I talked to said how warm it was for April. Apparently I was friends with Ione and really she was just like Marshall. She was so pretty and so fun to talk to. She helped me catch a ton of cherry blossoms and together we made a cherry blossom pochette.

My house was so pretty. I had a basement that was made up like an aquarium and an attic that was completely made for Thanksgiving. And I don't mean like the things Franklin normally has where everything is all purple. This Thanksgiving stuff was actually fall colored and looked really nice. It was such a relaxing room. The other rooms were equally as realizing and one of them even had all the mermaid items!

OH! And the island was almost completely filled! It was far different from the barren island I first dreamed about. It was now a vast city-scape complete with a country area and a forest. There was glowing moss and so many different flowers, though it seemed like windflowers were the most prominent.

Waterfalls were almost everywhere and gyroids ran the stalls in the vendor area. All the villagers looked so happy and I even saw a couple taking time to have a picnic on the beach.

No one called me mayor either. They all acted like I was just one of them. There was also no hair salon, shoe store, or club. The museum was still there but it wasn't like the one at home. It was filled with all sorts of fish and bugs. It was like I had caught everything there was to catch. I watched the fish for a while before I continued exploring the island.

Everyday though was like a different season. One day it was cherry blossoms and the next there were mushrooms everywhere. There was also a time I walked out and it was snowing. No one seemed bothered by it at all. Even I wasn't really bothered by it. One moment I would think that it was odd but then it was like..normal I guess? It was like that thought where you notice things are a bit odd but you push that thought aside like it's nothing.

I became such good friends with Ione, Bob, and Molly. Everyday was a new adventure and they were so nice to me. It wasn't like it was hard being friends with them like it is for villagers in my town. Everything was just...natural and easy.

It was a really bittersweet experience. I really felt like I had been there my whole life and felt like I belonged.

Honestly, it wasn't until I met another human that I realized I was not actually living on the island. She had blue hair and was wearing a swimsuit. I noticed her coming out of the ocean, clearly after a dive and I dunno why but I waved at her. She kind of looked at me weirdly like she was unsure of what I was doing there. Eventually she did come up to me though and her only words were “ you're not supposed to be here”.

It was very confusing for me, but after she said that I noticed that everything started to feel kind of fake. I kept hearing someone telling me to wake up too. The voice got louder and louder until I woke up, in my bed with Sly and Clay sitting by me worried.

I asked them how I got back from the island and they told me that I had actually been asleep for a week because I had a particularly nasty fall from a pitfall. Luckily for me, Raddle a doctor, had moved into town and had been keeping an eye on me. He said it was really good that my mind stayed active the whole time so there wasn't likely to be too much to worry about in the future, but I dunno. That island dream felt so real....

I could have also sworn Ione also called that blue haired lady Finn as well. I wonder if that was a multiverse version of me and that somehow the pitfall caused me to somehow transfer myself into that universe. If that's the case, did that version of me discover time travel? Is that why the seasons changed so drastically?

Honestly, the whole thing has kind of left me shaken. Raddle said I shouldn't be trying to move to much and that I should try to get as much rest as possible. I guess I could be using this time to see if anything from that dream is real in this world. I dunno there is just so much to process and my head hurts from thinking about it. Though I guess that could also be from the fall...

Regardless of the cause, there will be more to come!

-Finn

[aestheticvoyage2024]

Day 209b: Saturday July 27, 2024 - "The Backroads of Oklahoma"

Crossed the Red River by morning, and into Oklahoma, following the map to a red dirt road where I refreshed and reset for a good day of travel east and north across new track in Oklahoma - the crossroads of America - the gate between East and West and North and South. Left a trail through towns like Eldorado, Lawton, and Chickasha before stopping off in Oklahoma City. While walking the grounds of the memorial, I searched for the best BBQ in Oklahoma (accidentally, leaving off the City) and the search led me east to Wellston for some burnt ends from the Butcher's and collected up some apple bie baked beans for my mom's souvenir for Oklahoma. The road certainly provided today. By far the best part of my day and the best meal I'd have on the road home.

The roads home today started to show signs of life - trees, cornfields, barns and puffy clouds. Lots of little towns and places I had already plucked on the map.

I continued -North to Stillwater, and east towards Tulsa, where I filled my gas tank at the Costco there, and imagined my grandparents, on their way to Arizona, or maybe on their way back home to Gratiot County stopping near here and doing the same. Roadtrippers in my DNA - an itinerant spirit; I reflected on that, as I listened to the new Zach Bryan album for the 8th time, driving through his home hometown, Oologah.

Continued through Nowata, and Vinitia on Route 66 on into the great state of Misery (I mean Missouri). Highway 60 led east into Springfield where I ran for Mayor in Marty's, delivering some ace level karaoke with my childhood penpal, Jess, in the crowd - a fun night in the great American Bar Scene, with nothing but a few O'Douls; I was really excited for myself that I could do that - 209 days sober. It was a good break before the night drive - putting in that work to be setup for tomorrow. Finished the long day of driving by taking new track east to Cabool where I turned north to Rolla, and then to a parking spot in Jefferson City. Two lane roads the whole way.

Song: Zach Bryan - Oklahoma Smokeshow

If I'm lucky enough I'll see fogs lift with suns as we roll to play a show In Carolina, Oklahoma, or Chicago I'll grow to know the road to home in places far away Wrinkled, bald, and beat to shit, to never waste a day Enough people will hate me that I know I did it right But to never meet a human being that I say that I don't like Let me learn the hard way and cut it close sometimes That youths the attic chest where every lesson lies I'll have some kids and teach them that we are all the same Sufferin', smilin', silhouettes of every passin' day The love I have will always be something my friends yearn My memories were never cheap and never easy earned I hope to choke on jack and coke in a bar during a northern winter On a night the band was tight and right as rooftop lights flicker If I'm lucky enough, I'll understand losing someone close I'll clench my teeth on New Year's Eve and try to talk to ghosts I'll stumble through a market on a Sunday day in June Smell the salt and asphalt on a Sunday afternoon I reckon I'd be lucky if I made it half as far To only die on hills that are closest to my heart If I'm lucky enough, notebooks will be strewn across my room Or play catch on green grass with spring time flower bloom If I'm lucky enough, I'll tell the truth every chance I get 'Cause smiles faked to appease another is worth ten regrets If I'm lucky enough, I will get through hard things And they will make me gentle to the ways of the world If I'm lucky enough, I'll have the courage to leave and go Wherever my beatin' heart tells me to go If I'm lucky enough, I'll get high and invite a guitarist over And he'll play sweet notes until a New York City's rooftop sunrises I'll meet some kids in school that still know how to play instruments If I'm lucky enough, I'll make it exactly to where I'm taking this breath now Lay my head upon the Earth and laugh at passing clouds

~Zach Bryan

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[comfortscripts]

May I Have This Dance? ¬ Steve Rogers

Plot - After retiring his shield, Steve's partner realises that he seems to be missing something.

Requested? Yes/No

Genre - ☁️️Fluff ☁️️

Note/Warning - Steve didn't return to Peggy after Endgame (I refuse to accept that ending honestly), I think this is GN but please let me know if I have used fem!pronouns, also the reader wears a dress in this so if you are uncomfortable with that be aware.

Word Count - 1.7k

After your husband Steve retired from the superhero living, life seemed dull in his eyes. You could see that his once vibrant baby blues had lost their sparkle, their joy for life.

Whilst him having more time meant that your relationship thrived, Steve was missing something and you were missing him being truly happy.

It was Sunday and a rule of the Rogers relationship is that Sunday was an "Old School Day".

No technology, no going to the city and no current news or media of any kind.

It took a while to get use to but you soon learned to love it because it meant that you had the whole day with your soulmate, no distractions. But today was different, there was one thing that had taken up your entire focus all day.

A few days prior, you were in line at the supermarket when you spotted a flyer.

DANCE YOURSELF BACK TO THE 40s!

Have you ever wondered what a 40s dance was like?

Well if the answer is yes, get yourself down to the Michaelton Hall this Sunday at 7:30pm

The cashier was a motherly looking woman in her late 60s named Dorothy, her family had owned the supermarket here since the 1920s and being a cashier here was her first job. Twice a week she would come down and "relive her youth" as her husband always jokes.

"I thought that might catch your eye" Dorothy spoke after watching you inspect the flyer. "The old music, the clothes and just that feeling of a simpler time. I'm hoping to convince William to take me but getting him to dress up like a princess is more likely than getting him to dance."

You laugh at the woman's joke but mainly at the idea of William in a frilly dress. William and Dorothy had been married for 52 years but the only time William ever danced with her was on their wedding night, a story that you thought was sad but Dora took it in her stride.

"Well I am thinking that this might be a good way to get Steve out of his funk, even for only a night" You say with a wistful look on your face whilst piling fruit into your shopping bag.

"What a wonderful idea my dear!" Dorothy exclaimed whilst scanning the final item "There is a quaint little vintage store about half a mile out of town, I am sure you'd find a dress to knock Steve's socks off"

Smiling at the woman, you hand her some cash before taking one last look at the flyer "You are like a fairy godmother Dora. Have a lovely day and hopefully see you at the dance".

By the next morning, you were keen to start prepping for the Sunday surprise. Giving your husband a kiss goodbye, you headed off to 'run some errands'.

First stop was buying the tickets, then that left you with finding the perfect 40s dress.

You headed out of town to the vintage store Dorothy mentioned but you were not prepared for how beautiful the shop was. Flowers in corners all over the place, fairy-lights decorated the clothing racks and old pieces of sparkling jewellery was displayed throughout the store.

You could have spent hours in there, it felt like a visual time machine but it seemed luck was on your side. As you strolled further into the store, you noticed a stunning pastel floor-length satin dress with light embellishments near the sleeves. That was exactly what you needed.

Everything was ready. Tickets were bought, dress was found and Steve's old military suit was ready to be worn. All you had to do now was keep it from your husband till Sunday.

Making it to Sunday evening was difficult, you had nearly exposed the plans twice but thankfully Steve believed the excuses you came up with. But now it was time to get ready.

"My love, guess what I found the other day in the attic" You call out to your super-solider husband. "Your old army uniform. Perfect condition as well".

Handing the outfit to Steve, you see his eyes light up with the memories of his time back in the 1940s. Although he looked only slightly older than he did the last time he wore it, it was like looking back in time.

"Wow, I didn't think I would ever see this again." He spoke caressing the material.

"Steve, do you think you could maybe try it on again? I would love to have a glimpse of what use to be the fashion" You asked carefully, trying to make sure he didn't suspect anything else.

A small smile graced his face. "Of course, I probably would have wanted to try it on either way" And with a laugh, he headed upstairs to suit up.

Whilst the super-solider was getting ready, you slipped into your dress and quickly slipped on an oversized shirt which made it look like you were wearing a long skirt and t-shirt. Applying a bit of makeup before double checking that your purse was ready with the tickets, car keys and some other essentials.

Hearing footsteps descend your staircase, you turn around to a fully suited and confident looking Steve Rogers. This man has managed to make you fall more in love every day for the past 6 years but in this moment, he took your breath away.

"You look so handsome. How did I ever get lucky enough to call you my husband?" You express as you reach up to lay the corner of his collar down. Even though you compliment your husband all the time, Steve still flushes a bit red at the sweet words.

Leaning in to give him a small kiss, you suddenly remember that you are on a time constraint. You pull back with a mischievous grin dancing on your face.

"Oh no, I know that face. What have you done?" Steve asks with a little chuckle. Instead of responding, you grab his hand and head out to the car. After instructing him to get into the passenger seat, you settle yourself in the driver's seat and start the car whilst Steve sits beside you watching like he was trying to solve a puzzle - the puzzle being you.

"I have a surprise for you but I am going to need you to put this blindfold on whilst I drive us there" With a grin on your face and your hand offering a silk blue blindfold to your incredibly confused but handsome husband.

Cautiously Steve reaches for the blindfold and puts it on, he would trust you with his life so why not trust you with a small surprise.

After driving for 15 minutes or so, Steve feels the car stop and turn off.

"Wait one second" You say before he hears you open your door.

Bubbling with excitement you quickly discard of your t-shirt, place some kitten heels on and apply a sultry shade of red on your lips before throwing anything you don't need in the trunk.

Walking over to Steve's side of the car, you calm your nerves slightly with a deep breathe. Opening the passenger door, you take a hold of Steve's hand and carefully guide him towards the entrance of the hall.

Sounds of Moonlight Serenade songs fill his ears as he enters, still completely oblivious to his partner's scheme. He notices that it is far warmer in this area and that he can smell a mix of perfume and whiskey.

"Okay baby, when I count to 3, you can take off your blindfold" You finally say.

"1"

"2"

"3"

As Steve removes the silk blocking his vision and is immediately hit with a feeling of nostalgia. The hall looked like something out of his memories; men and women dressed in 40s fashion dancing the night away, a small band playing all the most popular songs from the decade he yearned for, men who reminded him of Bucky trying to pick up girls at the bar.

Steve thought that he was blown away until he saw his Y/N. The person who made life worth living, who made everything seem light again. There they stood, looking like they had just walked off the silver screen from an old movie. Steve never really believed that he could live such a happy life but somewhere along the way, he must have done something right because now he is married to an angel.

Walking up to you, he placed his hands on your waist and looked deep into your eyes. Drowning in Steve's ocean blue eyes was a favourite past-time of yours but this felt more than that.

"I noticed you have been a bit down since you gave up the shield and I couldn't see you frown anymore." You whisper quietly as if you were nervous that this plan wouldn't work.

"I know I say it constantly but I love you, Y/N Rogers. Your kindness, your care, your effortless beauty, you." Steve recited, filling every word with pure love and appreciation. "Sometimes I think that I am no one if I am not Captain America or I don't belong in this world but you. You, Y/N, you made me realise that you are my home, not the past. You are the only one I need in this life-time or any other life-time because you taught me who I am beyond the shield."

Tears start to well up in your eyes as you hang off his every word.

"This dance is amazing but what makes me happy is that I get to spend tonight and every night with my soulmate" Steve takes a step back and extends his hand. "So, may I have this dance my darling?"

Reaching for his hand, you make your way onto the dance floor amongst the other couples. As the song dies down, Stella by Frank Sinatra starts filling the hall with a romantic atmosphere and you feel Steve place his hand on your hip before placing another in your hand. This was truly a night to remember.

As you sway with your husband, you let your eyes wander to the other dancing couples and near the centre of the dance floor, you spot Dorothy and William smiling and swaying like teenagers again.

All you can do is hope that you and Steve will be dancing together when you are old and grey.

[soulmate-game]

I was feeling angsty. Read at your own risk, there is very little comfort in this and a whole shit ton of hurt. Probably a bunch of emotional triggers, so seriously be careful guys.

—*—*—*—*—*

Liquid pain ran down her arm like poison, the slash in it burning hot and spreading it’s agony like an invisible waterfall inside her flesh. But she did not grip her bicep where the wound had been inflicted, her gaze blank as she forced herself to hide her turmoil behind glass eyes. Her brother’s snarling face was only inches in front of her own, his katana moving from her arm to her throat.

“Useless! To think we share any blood relation is humiliating!” He growled at her. She did not move, did not emote. Her blades fans, the weapon she was loved most, lay half-opened on the ground beside her. Abandoned. But she knew Damian’s sword would not kill her. Blood family was a bond that was not to be severed by murder unless ordered by Ra’s or justified by the murdered family member in question betraying the League. She had done nothing to betray the Shadows, and Ra’s would not waste time and energy, or the breath it would require, to order her death. Just as he would not waste the precious waters of the Pit to bring her back again. She would not die today, and she knew it.

Sure enough, it was only a few more insults in various languages before Damian Al-Ghul stepped back and scowled down at the blood on his blade. Her blood. “If you don’t even have the stomach for real combat, you do not belong here,” he spat.

“That is where we agree, Grandson,” Ra’s sharp voice echoed through the room, his beady eyes never once bothering to glance at his granddaughter. “Maria, you are hereby stripped of the name Al-Ghul. Banishment from the League is the only mercy you shall be granted for your dishonor on our blood. Be useful and use whatever is left of your mistake of a life to stay out of the League’s way. Shall I, Damian, or your mother ever see your face again, your burial will follow shortly after. Am I understood?”

“Yes Gr— yes, Ra’s Al-Ghul.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Maria Al-Ghul was seven years old when she was disowned and sent away from the League of Shadows without so much as a penny to her name. She was only allowed to take the change of clothes she carried, and one small backpack’s worth of items. Her mother— Talia— had watched vigilantly as she packed those items, assuring that Maria did not take anything of worth.

The girl traveled by foot, too small to get away with driving a vehicle. Unless she could manage to steal a motorbike— she knew how to adjust the seats and pedals on most models to accommodate her size. But she was far too far away from civilization for that.

She knew that most of the League expected her to die in the jungles that surrounded the temple. After all, there were ninjas scattered throughout it with strict orders to kill anyone who was not one of them. And Maria now fit that description.

But if there was one thing Maria knew better than anything else, it was how to hide. How to hide feelings, intentions, involuntary movements, or her whole body in almost any setting. She covered herself in mud, matted her hair with dirt and took off her shoes. Barefoot was always quieter, and her feet would be more sensitive to any change in terrain. She would have to move more slowly and be on the lookout for traps, ground litter that could harm her, or dangerous wildlife, but she would be much harder to track.

It took her a month, but she made it to her first Tibetan city alive and decently healthy. She begged for food for a day before snatching a child’s outfit off of some hanging laundry lines and stealing the first decent vehicle she found. It was an old moped, but it beat walking and was already built small. She made it work.

That was how she spent the majority of the next year. She traveled from town to town, stealing what she needed until she could earn money normally. She used that money to buy herself a fake identity, even if she had to use the skills she had hoped to never need again in order to afford it.

Marinette Shiwang was born when she was already eight years old.

It was only a year after her new identity was created when she bumped into a woman in a street market. That was nothing new, those places could get crowded. But when Marinette looked up and saw valuable bracelets and necklaces of gold and jade, she knew she needed at least one. The money she would get for it would have her living comfortably for a short while. So Marinette’s theft-experienced fingers darted out and unclasped one bracelet in a fluid movement. It took less than a second. She barely had the piece of jewelry in her hand before she started to take off, hoping to lose herself in the crowd.

But a small hand clamped around her shoulder, a sturdy thumb pressing against a very vulnerable spot right at the back of Marinette’s neck, at the base of her skull. A clear threat from somebody with experience.

The sweet voice that followed didn’t match the gesture at all.

“Oh, I need that back dear. It was a gift from my husband, you understand.”

Marinette did. She cared about survival more. The small girl twisted, knocking the hand away from her before it could do damage and darting down a side street. The woman followed. It took three hours, but Marinette decided she had finally lost her pursuer before slumping down in the tiny, closet-sized bedroom of her cheap apartment. Her eyes closed for only a second before the window opened, and the smell of newly-baked sesame buns filtered through.

It was the woman and a much taller, much more masculine man. He was practically a giant, reminding Marinette of a certain member of the League that she used to know. They were both smiling.

“My wife figured you would be more open to an exchange than just giving up the bracelet for free,” the man’s voice was deep and inviting. “You can eat as many buns as your stomach can handle, if you give it back.”

Marinette accepted. Mostly because of her fear for people who could track her to her home so easily, when she had been certain she had not been followed. The League has tuned her senses well, there was no way the couple had been close enough to see her when she made it to her apartment. Yet they were still there somehow. Then, it also had to do with the promise of food, and the heavenly smell of the food itself. And then, lastly, Marinette was tired. She didn’t like stealing, it was just a necessity. She would not hurt these people over a mere bracelet that she wished she didn’t have to take in the first place.

Useless, she thought. So much of a bleeding heart that she just gave up what could have paid for two months rent. Too soft to even protect herself. The Al-Ghuls has been right. She was a waste of space and time.

Marinette was ten years old when she became a Dupain-Cheng. Somehow, that strange, dangerous couple had become her new family. Not even she knew how. But she was grateful— they took her back to Paris with them and she didn’t have to worry about rent, or food, or money anymore.

She vowed, that day that she received her spacious attic bedroom, that she would repay them. She would make herself useful, for the first time in her life. She would stay out of their way, be the perfect most unobtrusive daughter ever. She would help in the bakery, keep a smile on her face so that they never doubted that they were doing a good job. So that they never wasted time worrying about her. She smiled, and laughed, and became successful for them. Competent and reliable even though her memories would sink into her dreams every day and make it near impossible to drag herself out of bed in the mornings.

And then, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was thirteen, she was given a pair of magical earrings and a tiny fairy-god. And Tikki was thorough, at least. Diligent in her explanation. Marinette listened to every word, dread seeping in as she doubted her ability to carry out such an important task. Save a city? Defeat someone much more experienced and magically powerful than her?

Useless little Maria could never. Slightly less useless Marinette could never.

She was only ever meant to play a support role. Stay on the background and make everyone else shine, without ever succeeding in anything worth noting. That was who she was.

But then Tikki gave her the Warning. The catch that came with the Ladybug abilities, and Marinette felt the long-rusted determination in her begin to fire up again. Maybe she could be Ladybug. Maybe she could be useful, at least this once. At least for just this one scenario. She could fight and win the war against Hawkmoth, and that achievement alone could make her happy. Let her die knowing she did something worthwhile.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian Wayne was seventeen when he and his family found out about the Paris Situation, and immediately went over to offer help. Damian Wayne was seventeen when he watched Ladybug stumble at the sight of him, and immediately run away. But the two of them were twins, and though twin telepathy might be a myth they always did have a certain instinct when it came to one another.

Damian Wayne was Seventeen when he said, aloud on the top of a random Parisian building and surrounded by his family—

“My sister is Ladybug.”

Damian didn’t wait for their reactions, having entirely forgotten about the existence of his father and brothers, before taking off after his spotted sibling.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I knew you were alive.”

In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best words for him to say when Maria clearly thought he was still an assassin.

Damian watched as Marinette spun to face him, her face so much more expressive than he remembered. He could actually see the resignation in the slump in her shoulders, he could feel the fear in her bluebell eyes. The eyes she was lucky enough to get from their father while he was cursed with their mother’s green irises. He used to envy that about her, especially after joining the BatClan. But now he only felt comfort when he looked into her eyes. Comfort that she was different than him, and always had been. In the best of ways.

He watched as his sister was enveloped by a bright flash of pink light, detransforming right in front of him. And without the mask, it was impossible to ignore the relation between them. She had their father’s eyes and nose where he had their mother’s, but other than that they were almost carbon copies of one another. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into twin braids though, something he noted distantly as oddly fitting. They suited her, he thought.

But all those thoughts instantly turned to dust as she dropped to her knees in front of him, head bowed in complete submission.

“Tom and Sabine are innocent,” she told him. “They adopted me out of nothing but goodwill, and they have been nothing but good to me. I never told them a single word about my origin, I swear it on our blood. They think I am just an orphan that was abandoned in Hong Kong—“

“Maria—“

“—so please, don’t harm them. I’m begging you. And there is no need for you to waste energy killing me. You are welcome to stay in Paris as long as no harm comes to Tom and Sabine, but just wait and watch. I know who Hawkmoth is, and our final plan is almost ready. I’ll have him taken down by next week. Just— wait until then, please. My death will take care of itself afterwards, but Paris deserves to be free, and killing me now will set this entire war against Hawkmoth back by at least a year. And I also need that time to pick my successor—“

“Maria! I am not here to kill you!” Damian had to yell to get her to stop babbling and begging. She froze, but didn’t dare to sit up or even raise her head. So Damian took the initiative and sat down on the ground with her, though he kept his distance so that he didn’t scare her too badly. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, it had been ten years since they had seen one another and their parting hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

But he had changed a lot since then, matured a lot.

“I am completely disconnected from the League,” he admitted. Of the blurry memories he had of her, he did remember that being blunt was the best way to handle information with her. Beating around the bush had always done nothing but make her exceptionally nervous and jittery. Sure enough, his admission was enough to make her look up at him with disbelieving eyes. He risked a small grin. “I didn’t come in my old uniform, did I?” He gestured to himself in the bright Robin colors. Sure enough, Marinette’s rapid blinking proved his theory that she hadn’t even registered his clothing at all to be true. She had run as soon as she recognized his face.

But Marinette did not speak. She sat up a little, still eyeing him cautiously. But her silence helped him finally realize where they were— where she had led him.

The sounds of traffic and other big city noises were all muted, as if muffled by several layers of cloth. Shadows fell over them abundantly, and they were surrounded by dilapidated concrete walls.

She had brought him to an abandoned area far from any activity, where a body would take ages to find. She had then disarmed herself of her only weapon, her magic suit, and had gotten on the ground in total submission.

She had purposely given him the perfect setting to kill her, where there would be no witnesses and plenty of time before her body would be found for him to escape. That realization hit Damian square the chest, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“I am not here to kill anybody,” he reiterated, his voice noticeably much gentler than before. “Not you, not you adoptive parents, nobody. I left the league when I was eleven. Mother—“ he took a breath, but Maria deserved to know. “— she cloned me. Her clone killed me. He no longer exists, but that is of no consequence. She killed me, she and Grandfather disowned me when I made it clear I was not returning. Father— our father,” he was insistent as he leaned forward, not continuing until she met his gaze. “You remember who our father is, right? Bruce Wayne? Mother had dropped me off to be raised with him when I was ten, but of course it was all just one of her plots. It was her miscalculation though, because I ended up growing close to them. To Father and his adopted children. You would get along with Gra— with Dick, the best I think. Although T— Jason would also be a prime contender as your favorite brother, I think. He shares your love of motor bikes, if that hasn’t changed?” She just stared at him, clearly confused and experiencing a lot of feelings at once. He stayed silent for a moment to allow her to sort through them a little.

“I’m Robin now,” he made his voice quieter, but still easy for her to hear. “I’m a member of the Bats. I’m sure they would all welcome you, if you chose to meet them. Though be warned, they can be quite in—“

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper, Damian almost didn’t hear her. But he did, and fell silent. He watched as his sister licked her lips and tried to find the right words to say. “If what you say is true… you have a perfectly good family. Brothers, Father, a comfortable life. Why follow me then? Why offer me… any of that?”

Damian frowned. He didn’t remember Maria being so gloomy, but then again she had been raised to never show her emotions. Maybe, after years away from the temple like him, her true feelings were just easier for him to see now. Closer to the surface.

“I want to get to know you— to get to know my sister, again,” he told her. “Don’t tell them, but Father and the others have taught me to appreciate family. The way I treated you when we were children was not right, and though it was heavily influenced by Mother and Grandfather, I want to make up for it nonetheless. Maybe we can get to know the new us, together?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide with disbelief, but then she clenched her jaw and shook her head.

“We can’t.”

“... right, I understand if you do not forgive me. I didn’t even consider—“

“It isn’t that,” Marinette was quick to correct him. “When I said that my death will handle itself, I mean it, Damian. The Ladybug… the earrings that give me my powers, come with a price,” she absently ran her fingertips over the unassuming black studs in her ears. “If a Ladybug uses the miraculous for more than three years, the powers of Creation will demand to be balanced. Already, the Miraculous is powering itself on nothing but my life force now. Once I defeat Hawkmoth, there will be no need for Ladybug anymore. The moment I take the earrings off, they will cease keeping me alive.”

Damian’s face fell. No— no, that wasn’t right. He was finally able to find her, finally able to apologize and try to fix his past mistakes. This couldn’t be how the reunion went. This couldn’t—

“Not even the Lazarus Pits can bring me back from a Miraculous death,” Marinette went on. “So you and your family should go. You don’t need to be here when I—“ Marinette paused, gasping. “Damian, why are you crying?! Stop that!” Her voice became desperate, Marinette crawling over to him as quickly as she could and wiping away his tears as if they were something terrifying. Damian wasn’t sobbing or making any noise, it was just a silent stream of tears running down both cheeks as he stared at her wordlessly.

“I…” he finally managed to choke out. “I wanted to make up for everything. I wanted for us to be twins again, together.”

Marinette paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I know a magic user who can erase your memories of me,” she offered. “But you don’t have to feel guilty for anything. You never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Damian’s green eyes widened. He had said nothing but cruel things to her, that last year they spent together as children. Did she really believe all of that? Did he and their childhood really affect her self worth this severely and irreversibly?

“Maria—“

“My name is Marinette, actually,” she corrected him with a small smile. “I’m not Maria Al-Ghul anymore. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is actually useful, Damian. I can actually do things right— I’m doing something right right now. Beating Hawkmoth will be the first worthwhile thing I’ve ever done, don’t you see? Once it’s all over, I will have brought honor back to our blood. I’ll have proved to you that I really am your twin, that I wasn’t a mistake. That I was born for a reason,” Marinette’s eyes got dreamy even as Damian just felt like he was impaled again, this time by a spike of ice rather than a sword. “And I’ll be able to die before I ruin it. It’s a perfect scenario.”

“A perfect scenario implies that nothing important is going to be lost,” Damian breathed. Marinette just blinked.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the plan. Defeat Hawkmoth, save Paris, and nobody dies.”

“But you’re going to die!” He growled. Marinette leaned back, bewildered by his violent reaction.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I actually matter. Nobody needs me. Tom and Sabine might be hurt for a while, but they will recover just fine. And it’s not like I have friends or any—“

“Stop worrying about other people, damnit!” Damian surged forward, grabbing her shoulders hard enough to bruise and shaking her a little. “Even back then! Even when we were seven, you threw down your blades because you were more worried about hurting me than you were about how Grandfather would react, even though you knew he would be tempted to kill you for what he thought was cowardice! You never put yourself first, and it’s finally starting to piss me off!”

“Damian—“

“No, listen to me!” He shook her again, his tear stained cheeks only making his glare all the more potent as he stared right into her eyes. “You are alive, and your life matters! You were never worthless or useless, you just didn’t fit what our abusive situation wanted of you. They wanted a cold hearted killer, a tool they could use, and you were always too warm hearted and clever to fit either of those goals. But I did, I was the killer they were looking for and the pawn they wanted. If anything, that makes you better than I ever was! I was too young and naive to see it back then, but I’m trying to make up for it now. You are my sister, whether you go by Maria or Marinette, Al-Ghul or Wayne or Dupain-Cheng, I don’t give a damn! And so help me, even if I have to surgically attach those earrings to your skin, I am not letting you die before you gain at least a modicum of respect for yourself. Do you understand me?”

A wet sniffle met his ears, and he pulled Marinette in for a hug. She returned it weakly, sniveling and sobbing into his cape.

“D-d-Damian?”

“Yes, Shaqiqa?”

Another sniffle.

“I-is it really o-okay for me to stay with you?”

“Of course.”

“I-is… is it really oka-ay for… for me to live?”

Damian’s arms tightened around her. “Always. Always, always.”

Marinette buried her face into his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Th-then… I wanna try.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Not sorry. Ha 😎

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 1

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship

Length: 1.4k

Notes: Okay, here we go! Giving our babe Frankie an ending he deserves, with a few bumps along the way for fun. Divider by @firefly-graphics 💛

It was almost comical, you thought, at how different the realtor's listing was, compared to the real thing. You’d seen it enough times in bad Hallmark romances: city girl buys a property, property is falling apart, city girl miraculously has the funds to fix it up with the help of the perfect farmer neighbour.

This was reality though and you had already poured your life’s savings, which amounted to very little after all the surprise debts had been paid off, into this farmhouse. 

The "Quaint New England farmhouse, filled with the patina of a bygone era" was a wreck. Nothing to be done about it now, though. The crumbling two-story, just a few minutes drive from the small Vermont town, hadn’t been occupied in over a decade and was now in a total state of disrepair. 

Swallowing back your tears, feeling the burn behind your eyes and the hot swelling in your throat, you told yourself there wasn’t time for a breakdown. You first needed to take stock of the depth of damage, decide which rooms were habitable enough for the time being, clean, unpack, and prepare yourself for this new life.

The next few hours went by in an exhausting blur. By late evening, there was a larger-than-expected pile of rotten, broken, or otherwise unusable furniture in the driveway; your meager few belongings taking their place. On top of renovations and remodeling it appeared you would also be refurbishing. 

Sitting on the porch in the one spot where you felt confident the decking wouldn’t crumble beneath your weight, you looked over your list.

 3 cracked windows (can wait?)

 no running water in kitchen (ASAP FIX!)

 missing shingles (bad??)

 deck boards and upstairs bedroom floorboards rotten

 carpeted bathroom

 questionable smell coming from attic space 

peeling wallpaper/paint EVERYWHERE

Folding the list and slipping it into your back pocket, you made your way back inside to discover one last glaring issue, previously unnoticed until now. The electricity had been shut off.

Well, fuck me sideways...

Deciding it was too late and you were too tired to deal with anything else today, you settled for the flashlight on your cellphone for light. Eating the apple you had nicked from the motel lobby the night before, you laid back in your makeshift bed on the floor and gazed around your new home.

Your home.

The first thing you had ever owned on your own.

First, the corner of your mouth quirked up then you quickly allowed it to flourish into a grin. It may be a piece of shit, but then again, you were always attracted to broken things with the innate need to fix them. Maybe this time you’d actually succeed. With that sobering thought, you settled down into your sleeping bag and were quickly asleep.

Frankie couldn’t believe his eyes when he drove past the old McClure farm. Some fool had actually bought it! Chuckling to himself, he could already imagine the gossip that would spread through town tomorrow, everyone clambering to find out who had moved in.

He had moved out this way five years ago and was still considered the “new guy” in town. Hopefully, the new arrival would take that mantle and everyone could start using Frankie’s actual name. 

He’ll probably just be dubbed “newer guy”...

Breathing out a huff of a laugh at the thought, Frankie began to turn down his driveway. The long, meandering drive leads to a barn surrounded by rows and rows of apple trees.

Two weeks after having moved in, you’re certain you’ve met, or at least seen, everyone from the town. Muffins, pie, casseroles, and even a case of cider had been brought over by a few of the braver townsfolk who drove out to say hello. While they may have been thinly veiled excuses to come snoop, you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. The food was delicious, and best of all, it was free.

She had stayed for most of the afternoon, helping you clean and setting her kids about to do menial chores. The eldest, Cole, was sent scurrying up the road to tell his dad to bring Gerta. ... You dared not ask.

The very first visitor was a neighbour from just down the road. “Jacquie,” she had informed you over the noise of her four kids running around the yard, “How do you do?”

She said it with the barest hint of a southern drawl and you instantly fell in love with the soft cadence of her voice. With a beaming smile and a surreptitious wipe of your dusty hand on your pant leg, you shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

A short time later, the most devastatingly handsome, all-American-looking man you had ever seen climbed out of a tractor and started carrying a large object towards the house, Cole at his heels. 

“Jac, babe, where d’you want her?” He called, voice straining a bit due to the weight in his arms. Smiling at you, he nodded his head in greeting, "Hiya, neighbour! The name’s Mark"

“Oh, I don’t need it,” Jacquie replied airily “I just wanted an excuse to watch your muscles at work.”

With a roll of his eyes, that did nothing to hide the adoring sparkle in them, her husband carried his load to the side of the house and with a thump, set it down.

Turns out that Jacquie had a fondness for naming EVERYTHING and Gerta was their gas-powered generator. Claiming they had no use for it, Gerta was yours to keep for as long as you needed her. Which, you had to be honest, was looking like a good long while. Willing away the tears, not for the last time you were sure, brought on by her kindness, you settled for giving her a bear hug. It wasn’t until you heard a little voice calling “Mama?” that you realized you had been clinging to Jacquie for longer than could ever be considered acceptable.

Pulling away gingerly, you started to apologize, quickly stopped by her hand coming up in front of your face, making you involuntarily flinch. 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry!” She started to exclaim before taking a deeper look at you. Then, without breaking eye contact, she tilted her head to the side and hollered at Mark to gather the kids and head home.

“I’ll be back past bedtime, so come give me y’all kisses now!” She lovingly bossed her brood.

Once they had cleared out, she turned to you, gently taking your hands in hers, and said, “Now, where do you want to start?”

“What kind of voodoo, witch doctor, hippy-dippy magic do you possess?!” you asked with a laugh while sniffing back the lingering tears. 

You had just laid out your entire life to a complete stranger. She had sat there, the whole time, holding your hands and your gaze while you had talked. Everything, you had told her absolutely everything. From the California upbringing in an affluential family to marrying your Highschool Sweetheart days after graduation. The sudden move, his surprise enlistment, his changing demeanor, the beginnings of abuse, all ending with his death while stationed overseas.

The pathetic Death Gratuity from the military barely covered the truck. You’d had to sell everything in order to settle all remaining debts. Your parents had offered to move you back home but the thought just made you ashamed. Moving back home? Being seen as a victim, being pitied by those who had seen your potential wasted? No way.

“Nothin’ supernatural, Darlin,” she assured you, after taking a deep breath to steady herself. It appeared that your emotions had started to affect her as well, you noticed with chagrin. “just the power of a good friend and a strong cider.”

Then came the aftermath. The debt collectors, the funeral without a body, his family claiming anything of value and you meekly allowing it, unaccustomed by that point to standing up for yourself. His grooming of you had started so early, and so slightly, that no one had seen it happen. He had controlled every aspect of your lives; it had made you feel like a fool during that first month as a widow. How could you not know about the multiple maxed-out credit cards? The ignored truck payments? The bank loans?! 

That comment made you look around and laugh, breaking the morose atmosphere in a flash. Scattered around the two of you were at least a half dozen bottles of the alcoholic beverage, which you had both sipped on during your sad monologue.

“Ahh, so it’s the maker of the drink I’ll have to kiss,” you proclaimed with a laugh. “I just saved a fortune in therapy bills!”

With a sly smile, Jacquie nodded, “That you will, send him my best when you do.”

Part Two

[musesatyourservice]

ooc: Very sorry I have not been on, in the read more will be why.

TW: Natural Disaster, Hurricane Ian

First off, I am safe, well, and with a home.

I live in North Port, FL (I heard we were actually on the news for more than just a murder case this time, anyone remember Brian Laundry or however the name is spelled?). We were in the direct path of hurricane Ian. Although we did not get the damage that Fort Myers, Punta Gorda, Port Charlotte and all of the small towns that were the first places to be hit, we did have a sustained hurricane.

At 3:30 we received the news to go into an interior room and wait. And wait we did, 3 people and 4 animals in a small bathroom. We waited as the winds (and rains) from hurricane Ian wrecked their devastation, the small emergency weather radio our guide to what was happening. The noise of winds moving through the vents in the attic, worrying us each time, the door of the bathroom shaking. After five hours we left the bathroom (sooner than we should have), so we could see what had happened to our house.

We are some of the lucky ones (though luck is always relative isn’t it? This time has taught me that lesson, no one who went this were truly lucky). We had a couple of spots leaking, a tear in our screened in lanai, and something that broke off our shed.

And so we called the insurance company (with the one cell phone that would call out) and we eventually went to bed. The next morning led us to see the true devastation but only from our yard. A tree was up against our house, the neighbor’s fence was now our fence and one of the panels had knocked into a palm tree sending that into our lanai. An oak tree in front looked a little concerning, and a palm tree seemed to be leaning precariously over our house.

Shingles, palm fronds, branches, fence pieces all in our yard. However we could not leave our home, our street had flooded, lovingly referred to as lake Chamberlain in our house. It was a beautiful day, sunny and cool, and thank goodness since we did not have our window AC. However in Florida flooding is dangerous, not just because it can enter your house and cars, but because it brings along gators. Some people did get through the street, trucks with big tires, and my favorite, kayaks. Still no help was anywhere in sight, and we still listened to the radio to try and fight out what was happening.

We got water back the second day after the hurricane, though under a boil order, as well as our window AC. Concerning however was the gas for the generator to keep our fridges cold, our phones charged, and a light to see by. The third day our road was leavable. However the gas situation was bleak the main interstate had flooded and part of 41 was down because they were worried about a crane falling.

The fourth evening we got power back.

The fifth was the day I left the house. I cried as I drove to work in Venice. As I saw the destruction, even as I knew the destruction there was not as much as further south. There is no denying which way the winds blew... There are very few trees that do not bear the evidence. Signs were gone, power out at every other stoplight.

It was only today that we were told that we no longer needed to boil water.

We still have a tarp on our roof as we need a whole new roof. We still see something new each day that shows us how terrible this storm was. 

I am still afraid to look at the places further south... I saw one picture and the memory alone makes me cry.

So if anyone does read this. Know that when you ask us, we will tell you that we are okay, that maybe our home survived or it sustained a little damage, we may say that we are lucky. We weren’t. None of us were. Even if one just had to sit in a bathroom as we waited it out. Or the people who evacuated.

It was a trauma. A trauma none of us will forget. A trauma that will never be forgotten by the cities themselves. We are coping. We are trying to get to the point where we are capable of getting back to our lives. We may feel glad that our internet is back and sad for the people who are without homes or without power. But none of us got through this unscathed. No one was lucky.

[ginazmemeoir]

Babe could you link your cindrella post i can't find it 😭

i couldn't find it since tumblr ate it up i guess :(

but imma paste it over here

The knock came much later than expected. Much later.

Ella felt that the entire population of her town had turned female all of a sudden, as women of all ages went ahead to try their luck. But Ella knew they would all fail. They were destined to fail. She made sure of that. Today somebody else would win, and then Ella will forever be rid of this wretched life. She waited expectantly, watching from the attic window, which doubled up as her “bedroom”. Lacking a bed, and an actual room.

“His Highness, The Prince wishes to meet the female inhabitants of this house!” the steward announced, clearly making the wish an order. The three silly geese fumbled forward in a flurry of silk, jewels and lace. That is what Ella liked to call her step-“family”.

Her stepmother graciously invited the prince into the manor. It was deftly spruced up just two days ago when word spread of the prince’s arrival. All ugliness was swept away, including the caustic nature of the stepmother and stepsiblings.

“Please enter, Your Highness.” She said, bowing into a deep courtesy. Lucinda and Florinda followed suit, pictures of perfect ladylike beauty. Overstuffed dolls with dangerously plunging necklines really, Ella thought to herself. Tea and macarons were offered to the prince and declined with a single wave. More pressing matters were to be attended to in that evening, for example deciding a bride and hence the future queen, upon her shoe size.

The glass slipper was brought forward. It glittered like diamonds even in the faint light of the corridors, as if made of starlight. Its slope curved in all its elegant beauty, the whole design resembling that of a swan. However, this swan was without its mate, which currently lay hidden securely in the attic “bedroom”. The Starlight Swan, as the slipper came to be known, was handed to the ladies, who headed inside the parlour to wear the slipper in privacy.

First came Lucinda. Huffing and grunting and puffing, Lucinda tried to stuff her foot inside the slipper. Pity that it was tight on the toes. She let loose an almost inaudible “Fuck” as she groaned and moaned. And when all else failed, an idea struck their mother. A horrible, terrible idea really, but an idea nonetheless. A letter opener was brought forth, but instead opened up a toe. Turns out humans aren’t that different from fabric, and can indeed be altered.

Lucinda thus stepped out of the parlour, flanked by her mother and sister. “A perfect fit Your Highness. This slipper was made for my daughter.” She proudly announced. But what gave away the perfect fit was a trail of blood leading up to where Lucinda stood, and her straining face. The slipper was removed from Lucinda who thus crippled, hopped to the drawing room, crying.

Next came Florinda. This time her mother was quicker to employ her strategy, and quickly rid her of her apparently bulging heel. Mother and daughter exited, triumphant in their victory. How infuriating then, that Florinda couldn’t stomach a missing heel and collapsed in front to the prince, exposing herself. The stepmother stood there, baffled and deeply embarrassed.

The Prince started getting increasingly agitated now. He had scoured the countryside, the Capital, had visited every town and city over the course of three months. Was there nobody who could fit their sole inside this marvellous glass slipper? “Anybody else in the house?” he asked. The stepmother, wringing her hands and silently cursing her daughters for not having dainty feet, reluctantly replied, “There is sir. My husband’s daughter from his first marriage. A maidservant really, not worth to even think of someone as…” “I’ll be the judge of that.” The Prince replied, cutting off the stepmother mid-sentence and fixing her with his icy glare.

“Cinderella!” the summons came. Ugh how she hated that word. Cinder-Ella. As if she willingly had to sleep next to the fireplace during winters, since she wasn’t provided with any heat in the attic. Ella stepped down into the parlour, having combed her hair and washed her face. She looked at the prince. The ballroom dance came back to her in a rush of nostalgia. She was still struck by how lovely the prince looked, like straight out of a fairytale. She longed to press her body against his, and taste those ridiculously perfect lips. But not today. Not ever. Maybe in another lifetime she could’ve, but not today. She steeled her resolve and locked away her love in exchange of freedom.

‘But oh dear Narrator, couldn’t she be the Queen?’ ‘Narrator, she could’ve had both, you’re just dumb’ you might argue. Look, I’m not saying that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but she wasn’t willing to run a kingdom. She just preferred a man who cared about talking to her, who remembered how she looked, instead of chasing the kingdom and trying to match shoe sizes.

Ella sat down on the diwan, and extended her left foot, with cracked heels and uneven toenails. She put it inside the slipper, not daring to even breathe, and opened her eyes. Alas. Her feet were smaller than the slipper itself. The prince let out a shout of dismay, even as the stepfamily breathed a sigh of relief. Ella seized her chance, and said, “Your Grace, if I may, there still remains a woman who hasn’t tried the slipper.”

“And who might that be, Cinderella?” the stepmother replied with a raised eyebrow. “You, mother.” Ella replied, sweet as a honeycomb. The stepmother scoffed, but the stewards took the suggestion like a hound catches a scent. “Your Highness, perhaps the young maid is right. There have been several marriages of convenience in the past, where the bride was considerably older than the groom. Your own grandfather’s grandfather had to marry a woman as old as his mother!” they suggested.

Wiping his face with his hand and hiding his annoyance, the prince made the stepmother wear the slipper. And they had finally found the Starless Swan’s true owner. An audible gasp resounded in the room, as disbelief, concern and some slight disgust at fate made everybody dazed. “But.. but it can’t be…” the prince muttered in disbelief; his dreams of the angelic beauty shattered. Meanwhile, the stepmother did not know how to react. Should she dance at having scored a prince and the possibility of being queen in the future? Should she decline marrying a man 17 years younger than her? Should she be suspicious of the fact that a random glass slipper fit her as if grafted to her skin?

Obviously she chose to marry the prince, and be renamed the princess-consort. And for the first, and probably last, Ella’s entire family was happy.

Ella packed her stepfamily’s belongings in a haste. She was like a tornado, stuffing everything she could find inside the new royalty’s luggage, working as if she wanted to magic them away before they had a change of heart. Lucinda and Florinda meanwhile accused their mother of deliberately ruining their chances of marriage, and had to be placated with promises about gentlemen pleasant to the eye and prosthetics made of gold. Within a week, the entire manor was emptied. The day they were supposed to leave, a courier arrived, addressed exclusively to Ella. The Stepmother tried to snoop at the letter, but was beaten to it by Ella. She grabbed it, felt it’s expensive envelope, and then cut it open. Inside, she was greeted with a letter from the Grand King, a deed, and her father’s will – apparently since she was now an adult, and her primary caretaker was getting married, all of her father’s estates and assets were being transferred in her name along with a rather flashy title of ‘Duchess’. As Ella stood in shock, clutching the letter, Lucinda and Florinda pushed her and walked away out into the waiting carriage. If this is how they treated the royal servants when they weren’t even royalty, then Ella pitied what the royals were about to fail. The Stepmother exited the manor; then paused for a second, and went back to hug Ella.

“You did good work here, you swine. You got lucky after all.” “Oh no, Mother. I was simply helping out my family, as my late father instructed me to. The only one who got lucky is you, I can’t even imagine being related to royalty! I on the other hand have fallen on hard times, for what is the pleasures of this manor worth, while I don’t have a mother and sisters to share it with? Nonetheless, I will miss you, mother.” Ella replied, a rosy smile disguising sarcastic thorns, in a single airy breath. The Stepmother snarled her lips in disgust, and stomped away, climbing in the carriage and ordering the servants to lead them away. For the first time in her life, Ella felt truly free. Free.

She screamed when she thought the party were out of earshot. Free. She repeated the word over and over, feeling it on her tongue, tasting it, holding it close. She hurled the stone busts of her stepmother and step sisters at their vanities and rolled down the meadow. She collected wildflowers and dandelions, and entered the house wearing a crown of petals, the queen of her own life now. The servants couldn’t be happier as well, and soon the house resounded with the sounds of laughter and banter and darts striking the portraits of “The Three Toads”. As Ella snorted at a particularly dirty joke and spilt over her beer, she glimpsed something. No, someone.

Following the cue, Ella went to her room (yes. Finally a room.) and retrieved a small wooden box. She went outside, and headed downhill towards her mother’s now decrepit grave. There, standing by the tombstone, stood a woman. She was plump, and wore flowing purple robes. Her hair floated about her like spilt ink, and her skin shone blue like a lake reflecting the sky. Her caramel eyes slitted as she saw the young maiden walking towards her. “You’re late.” She asked.

“Forgive me godmother, I was, uh…” Ella fumbled for an excuse, even as her Faerie Godmother glided towards her. “Payment.” She asked, and extended a hand. Ella stood there, clutching her box. The Godmother waited there, and waited. And waited. Both godmother and goddaughter stood there in the autumn breeze, silent as stone. And what was actually two minutes seemed like a year to the faerie, who ultimately snapped. “Listen here lassie, what is it with your family I do not understand. Your father contracted my services as ‘godmother’ once, and I had to extract me payment by stealing his last words. You employ my services again to expand a glass slipper and now refuse to pay me as well?” she said, in a voice whose tone Ella couldn’t quite place. “Okay fine here you go.” Ella said and quickly handed over the box to her. However heartless those people had been, Ella still didn’t feel comfortable doing what she was doing.

Inside, Lucinda’s severed toe and Florinda’s severed heel greeted the faerie. She looked at them greedily and snapped the snuffbox shut, which once belonged to the Stepmother. “Pleasure doing business with ye.” she said, and floated away back to the forest. Ella stood there for a minute by her mother’s grave, her eyes intent on the neighbouring woods, and finally made her way back inside. She was done with her past.

[holobandit]

Howdy Neighbor!

Chapter 1: Brownies

Rating: Explicit

Read on Ao3

Series Masterlist

Next Chapter

Summary: You have just moved from a big city into a little town in Texas. You hear a ring of your door bell and Jack Daniels stands before you with a plate of brownies.

Pairing: Jack Daniels | Agent Whiskey/AFAB Reader

Warnings: No Use of Y/N, Legal Age Gap, Food Mention, Eventual Smut

You hated moving. Packing all your junk, then unpacking it just for it to sit there. It drove you up the wall. You were moving to this quiet neighborhood in Texas. You’re used to the city. Being able to walk where you needed to go, now you had to learn how to drive to get to college. You really missed that part of city life. However, your new house was bigger. You had the whole attic to make into your room. It had a circular window overlooking the front porch and the dirt road that led to your house.

You moved your bed, so it was right underneath the window. You began to unpack your decorations and books for your shelf. You felt as if the boxes that your parents would bring in would never stop. You hear a knock on the front door.

“I got it!” You yell down to your parents as you skipped down the squeaky stairs.

You open the front door to see a tanned, brown eyed man standing there with a plate of brownies. He was wearing a leather jacket whit a white shirt underneath. He had jeans that were lightly covered in dirt, and boots that has seen some use. His brown hair was slightly messy, but it was covered up with a cowboy hat. He had a smile that made you blush, hard.

“Well, howdy, darlin’!” The man beamed. He tipped his hat, “I’m your neighbor down the road. The names Jack, Jack Daniels, but you can call me Whiskey.”

You introduce yourself, “It’s nice to meet you.” You take the plate of brownies out of his hands, lightly brushing them.

“My grandmother’s recipe,” Whiskey winks, “The best brownies yer ever gonna taste.”

You take one of the brownies off the plate and nibble on the corner. It was so sweet. It was nice and cold too.

“Wow, you weren’t lying.” You took another bite of the brownie. “This is definitely what I needed after unpacking all day.” You set down the plate inside your house on a table next to the front door, “So, besides that, what brings you hear?”

“Well,” Whiskey rubs the back of his head, “I wanted to meet my new neighbors. There hasn’t been anyone living in this house since, well, years actually.”

Your parents came up behind you and introduced themselves. Your mother was all bubbly from meeting Whiskey, your father copied your mother’s enthusiasm. Your Father immediately grabbed some of the brownies and began munching on them. Your mother lightly slapped him on the arm, which caused you to giggle. In turn, Whiskey smirked.

“I have to say, yer smile is quite a sight, sugar.” Whiskey crossed his arms and slightly leaned back.

You feel the blood rush to your face, “Thanks, is there anything we can do for you? I- “

Whiskey cuts you off by raising one of his hands, “Darlin’, there is no need for yer to do anythin’ for me. This is just a welcomin’ gift.”

With one last wink and goodbye, Whiskey is off in his Bronco. The dirt leaving a cloud where his truck once stood. You close the door and pick up the plate of brownies. You set them down in the fridge so that they stay nice and cold. You hurry back up the stairs to finish unpacking your things.

Whiskey is still on your mind, maybe it was the flirtatious compliments or the brownies themselves. Something about the man stuck with you. His comment about how no one had lived in this house for years also stuck with you. You didn’t see a wedding band on his finger either. He must have been lonely. You feel for Whiskey, this was a pretty secluded place. It’s one of the reasons your parents pick the house.

The next couple of days are quiet. You spend it toying away on your laptop applying for college classes. It was tedious, but it had to be done. You ordered your supplies for the classes and got a few new clothes for yourself. A little treat for yourself didn’t hurt here and there. You were also looking at driving schools. You could just ask your parents, but they weren’t the best teachers out there.

One day, you hear a knock at your door. You were in the kitchen cleaning the plate that Whiskey had given you. You walked over to the door and saw the familiar shadow of Whiskey. You opened the door to see him holding a plate of cookies this time. Your eyes beamed and you licked your lips.

“Hungry, aren’t we?” Whiskey chuckled, “You sure love yer sweets, sugar.”

“Well, if they’re as good as your brownies,” You took the plate out of his hands. Yet again, you brush your hands against his. “Then my sweet tooth is very satisfied.” You hold up a finger, “Let me get your plate for you.”

You walked back to the kitchen and grabbed the plate. You came to the front door and Whiskey was leaning against the door frame. You handed him the plate and he responded with a soft smile. You two talk about your day. Whiskey had just gotten back from work. Ironically, he said he worked for a whiskey company. You explained how you were still finding boxes after days of unpacking. They seemed to never end. Whiskey chuckled at your jokes about unpacking. He was kind to you. His accent was music to your ears. It was sweet like honey.

“So,” Whiskey adjusted his hat, “I’m havin’ a cookout this Saturday. I was wonderin’ if you’d like to come. It doesn’t have to be for long, darlin’.”

Your eyes light up, “Of course! I have nothing better to do, so I’ll swing by.”

“Great!” Whiskey pointed at you, “It be around the same time as now.”

With a wave, he was off. You watch him get into his Bronco and drive off. The way he leaned back in his seat and hand his hand on the steering wheel caught your attention.  You close the door behind you and walk back into the kitchen. You set the plate of cookies down. Your heart was racing. You’ve met him before, but something about the way he looked at you this time drove you mad. You head back upstairs to clear your mind.

Dividers by saradika

[corpse-of-bandersnatch]

That's the whole interview with Jeff by Nicole Iskra, in which they also talked about him shaving of his chest hair. It was published in the Moviestar 05/2001 (the interview, not the chest hair).

I won't translate everything word for word, but if you wish a closer translation of a special topic/question, let me know and I try my best. (Also I apologize for the bad quality of the middle part of the scanned magazine).

PARALLAX – Madness from the Internet

„I was the Incarnation of their worst nightmare!“ - An interview with Jeffrey Combs

Before the interview starts, they introduce the latest movie Jeff was in back then, which is Parallax aka FearDotCom (almost the complete first column describes the Plot). Parts of it where shot in Luxembourg, which is also the Place where the interviewer meets Mr. Combs.

They meet in front of the Inter-Continental Hotel. Mr. Combs is PISSED, because the breakfast in the Hotel was awful (slimy fried egg) and the staff was rude (someone came in his room without knocking or apologizing, while he was sitting on his bed, only wearing a T-Shirt and Shorts).

They walk into the City of Luxembourg and Jeff's wondering about the many colourful life-sized cow sculptures, that you can find everywhere in town (quote: „Is this supposed to be art?!“).

He's searching for a souvenir for his wife, but in in his opinion, all of the dresses are outdated and their colours terrible. The interviewer teaches him the very important rule „Grün und Blau schmückt die Sau“.

They decide to eat in a Burger Restaurant called „Maybe not Bob's“, where he orders chicken wings with french fries and a coke (quote: „like a real American“).

Jeff speaks about the results of his genealogical research: Originally, his family came from Devon in England, but settled 1619 in Jamestown (Virginia) to work for Virginian Tobacco Co.

1. Question: The first question is about the renaming of FearDotCom to Parallax (reason being uncertainty about who owns the name). It follows more describing of the movie’s plot, this time from Mr. Combs himself.

His friend Bill Malone directed Parallax/FDC and offered Jeff the role, because they already worked together in Haunted Hill and Perversions of Science.

2. Question: You got along so well with Peter Jackson while filming The Frighteners. Will you at least get a Cameo in Lord of the Rings, even if it's only as Orc Nr. 260?

JC: That's the one Orc, that survived, right? (laughs). Nah seriously, I didn't get a role, unfortunately. I auditioned, , but the problem was the british accent. I can imitate it, but when you're surrounded by actors like Ian McKellen and Ian Holm, it's really not hard to tell who's a „real  Briton“ and who's not.

3. Question: Did your latest movie before Parallax/FDT – The Attic Expeditions –  had it's premiere in America yet?

JC: No, not yet. The world premiere was a couple of weeks ago here in Luxembourg and it was also shown on Festivals in Edinburgh and Amsterdam. Sadly, they didn't show it on the film festival in Brussel.

I'm really enthused by The attic Expeditions, because it's interesting, not linear, not logical, with few horror elements, but the horror is mostly psychological. It's like a dream in a nightmare on a trip. The longer you watch the movie, the less you know, what's real, it's a really complex movie, especially by american standards.

4. Question: In retrospect, would you call your role as Herbert West a curse?

JC: (sighs) Somehow, it's a curse and a blessing at the same time. Thanks to the role, I was branded as „Horror actor“ in Hollywood. After Deep Space Nine I was branded as „Horror- and Sci Fi- actor“. Movie people love to categorize you. On the other hand, the role of Herbert West opened up a lot of possibilities for me.

5. Question: 10 Years ago you told a funny story at a convention in New York, about sth. that happened while filming From Beyond. Could you maybe tell it again for the Moviestar readers?

JC: You mean the one with the children?

MS: Exactly!

JC: (grins) Well, we were already filming for a month – so I've been in this horrible make-up for 30 days already, with this awful head piece that looked like a red dog dick. I looked worse than Quasimodo! That's why I ate mostly in my dressing room. One day, they shot a commercial with a bunch of 4-year-old children in mushroom costumes on the same soundstage. We met in the hallway and as soon as those poor, innocent children saw me, all hell has broken loose. I was the incarnation of their worst nightmare, they screamed and ran to their mothers, who wanted to lynch me on the spot. So now it was me, who ran away.

But that's how it is, when you have a lot to do with make-up and masks and stuff like this. Not long ago, I was strapped to a cross made out of tubes, my throat was „cut“, there was blood all over me. And sometimes, when you're hanging there long enough, the crew just forgets that you're there, because for them, you just turned into a part of the set. Until you give a signal: „Umm sorry, guys, could you..maybe..“ - „Oh yeah sure, sorry Jeff, sorry..“

6. Question: (you might already know this one from this post): After that scene in From Beyond, in which you get eaten by this worm, your chest is as smooth as that of a baby – did they shave off your chest fur?

Jeff: Yes! (laughs)

MS: Did you do it yourself?

Jeff: Yes and I learnt something very important: Never use a normal razor blade, an electric razor is way better and safer and it doesn’t itch as badly, when the hair grows back. I had to shave my chest for a theater role once as well. I was 26 or so and played an 18-year-old.

7. Question: Do you still play in theatres regulary?

JC: No, not in the past couple of years, though theatre is very dear to my heart. Back in the days, I loved to play in theatres – living like a gypsy, 8 weeks in San Diego, and somewhere else afterwards. But that's not how I want to live today, now that I have a family. I don't like to leave my two little girls for several weeks, plus an engagement in a theatre isn't really helpful financially. I earn the same money in 1 week of shooting a movie as I do in 4-5 months of theatre work.

8. Question: I read that Woody Allen pays every actor 5.000 Dollar, because in his opinion, no one is worth 20 Million Dollar, neither beginner nor Superstar. What do you think about the explosive growth of fees nowadays?

JC: I do think that you should take the money, that the market offers you. But somebody, who earns 20 Millions per movie should share at least a million with their not so lucky co-actors.  No, seriously, it's not that easy to make a living. A friend of mine got a job, where he plays the brother of Kevin Costner. When I asked him, if he gets payed well, he shook his head and said, that he only gets tariff plus 10%. Tariff is the lowest wage possible, that was defined by union. My friend had the choice to either work with Costner or don't. And as an actor you always hope that a movie like this becomes a success and maybe improves your chances in Hollywood.

MS: Thank you for making so much time for us!

[lotusthekat]

Still the haunted ruins of night call your name - Chapter 2

Fandoms: Steven Universe, Over the Garden Wall

Rating: G

Relationships: Wirt & Greg, Wirt & Steven, Minor Wirt/Sara

Characters: Wirt, Greg Universe, Steven Quartz Universe; MINOR - Marty, Sara, Lars Barriga; more characters to be added

Summary: Years after his little brother left, Wirt finally has the chance to make things right. Problem is, he has no idea if Greg wants him in his life again.

An OTGW x SU crossover AU. Partially compliant with Steven Universe Future.

Word count: 6.785

Quotev / Fanfiction

Previous chapter

--

Chapter 2: Into the unknown

Wirt might be too nostalgic and materialistic for other people’s taste, but that’s how he keeps close the memories and experiences he cherishes.

He’s going over his stuff in the attic, a place quite full of dust and barely any sunlight.

Surprisingly, he still has that old Santa hat cone-like.

And the teapot.

The little elephant.

Wirt sighs and hugs it close.

…

“I’m going to bed soon,” he whispers when he notices he’s being watched.

“Wirt, you need to find Greg.”

“I can’t.”

“Look,” Sara approaches and puts her hands on his shoulders, “I know you said bad things to him, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try to make them right.”

“I keep thinking like I only screw things up, no matter how hard I try.”

“That’s not true, Wirt.”

He shakes his head and stares at the teapot in his lap.

“I’m just… scared,” Wirt admits. “I’m scared of what I’m going to find. Maybe Greg has become a completely different person. Maybe he still hates me for what I said to him – not that I would blame him, honestly. But I don’t know how he’s doing. I don’t know anything about him or- or my nephew. I have a nephew, Sara. Does that mean he has a romantic partner, too-?”

“You’ve got to find all that out.”

“But what if—”

“I know it’s scary, but you’ve got this,” Sara smiles. “You’ve always gone to the unknown and never gave up, right?”

She probably doesn’t mean it the way he hears it, but…

Wirt stops making those what-ifs and should, and he holds the teapot with certainty.

“You’re right. I have to try.”

--

Maybe he’s making a mistake.

But he can’t go back now.

No, he won’t go back.

He couldn’t bring Sara with him, but Wirt also wanted to do this alone. He didn’t want to involve her in this whole thing.

Wirt actually remembers hearing about Beach City in his distant childhood memories. His aunt and uncle used to own a barn nearby. Maybe he and his family have actually been to the beach, but he was too young to recall. It’s much farther than where he lives now, and he didn’t sleep a wink last night, already planning the travel and getting everything he needed, and everything he could show Greg and his still unnamed nephew.

Beach City is small, as expected from the name and location. Wirt parks the car in a calm street. There’s not a lot of folks here. He’s aware it must be full of visitors on Summer, but he’s come in mid-Autumn, so he’d likely be the only outsider.

Or… that’s what he initially thinks.

He finds some very… unusual people on the way.

People, but not humans? Their skins have entirely different colors. He sees one that is yellow, orange, purple, white and a whole lot of other pigments together, and they don’t even seem to have eyeballs. They’re skating around with rollerblades.

Then he sees a tiny blue person and a huge gray one making… snow cones out of pure ice?

Ooookay.

He’s been in the Unknown (admittedly years ago and once), but it was… different. This is an actual town in his time and country and planet. There are a lot more unique living beings around. And some humans.

Wirt is likely in the main street according to his map, but it’s been changed drastically. He doesn’t usually like using the GPS because he likes feeling the map in his hands. But this one is probably from the 1990s since he found it in the library, so he’s, well. Lost.

He doesn’t know where to go or ask. He remembers the fact Greg owns a car wash, but he’s not seeing it anywhere.

His stomach and exhaustion interrupt his confused train of thought, and that’s how his eyes find food.

“Spacetries?” He mumbles.

It seems… cute.

Space, though.

Are all of these people aliens? He never doubted their existence, to be fair.

In any case, he’s already got inside. It’s small but nice. It has plenty of treats wrapped up in space elements, like stars, the moon, spaceships and comets. It looks like something Sara would love. He’d have to buy one of them for her.

“Hey, can I help you?”

Wirt would have answered, but.

The cashier is pink.

He looks like a teenager? A teenage boy? But pink?

Some weird little town, Marty’s unwanted words come back to his thoughts.

“… yeah, it’s my natural skin color. Well, not really,” the cashier says, shrugging, “but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let’s work with that.”

Wirt blinks after being in a trance, and he gasps.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude…”

“Eh, don’t worry. But I’m assuming you’re not from around here, am I wrong?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m not.”

“Believe me, it only gets weirder,” the teen chuckles. Wirt then reads the name in his uniform – ‘Lars’. “You look like you need coffee.”

“Yes. Yes, definitely. Sure. Thank you.” He’s normally already a mess, so when he’s sleep-deprived, you can guarantee it gets worse.

“Uh-huh. What brings you to Beach City? If that’s alright to ask.”

“That’s okay. I, um…” Wirt clears his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to know, uh, Greg DeMayo, would you?”

Lars frowns. “DeMayo? Oh, you mean Greg Universe? Mr. Universe?”

Wirt’s exhaustion seems to go away immediately. “Yes! That’s him!”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I’m,” Wirt laughs, “I’m actually his brother.”

Lars blinks. “Oh.”

“I-I haven’t seen him in years… not since he left to get here.” Wirt lowers his head. “I have no idea how he’s been doing all this time.”

“Huh… he’s doing great, sir. He got a haircut, though. Poor guy,” Lars sighs. “Well, I don’t know where he is now, but you could find Steven.”

“Steven?”

Before the boy explains it to him, his pink hair starts glowing.

And something- someone comes out of it.

“Laaaars!!”

“Ah, speak of the devil.” Lars doesn’t seem fazed by it.

Wirt might feel like the insomnia is making him see things, but nope. He’s pinched his own wrist five times today. It’s really happening.

“Oh, hello,” a dark curly-haired teenager – apparently younger than Lars? – says, only his head sticking out of Lars’… head. “Sorry, sir, this is my shortcut.”

“You could try not to scare my customers, Steven,” Lars rolls his eyes. “But hey, good timing. He’s looking for your dad.”

Dad? Wait…

“Oh, really? Just a minute,” Steven takes a breath and gets inside the hair. Lars makes a gesture for Wirt to step back.

Suddenly, Steven jumps out of Lars’ head and lands right in front of Wirt, like it’s a common occurrence to him.

“Hi! I’m Steven,” the boy raises a hand for him to take.

Wirt might stare at him like he’s a ghost.

It’s his nephew. Steven. A truly wonderful name. It sounds like Greg’s creativity indeed. But Wirt thought he’d be… smaller. Younger. He’s a teenager almost his height. Wirt is admittedly not very tall, but still…

He almost wants to hug the boy – he does want to, but no. Priorities.

“I’m- I’m Wirt,” the man shakes his hand, finally.

“So, you know my dad? I don’t think I know you, though.”

“You… probably don’t.” Wirt looks away with sadness.

“Are you his friend?”

“No, I’m…” Wirt gulps. Should he drop the bomb? What would Steven think?

Well, curse it.

“I’m your uncle.”

Steven’s eyes are comically big. “Huh?”

“I mean- I’m your dad’s brother! Which means- yeah, I’m your uncle! That never saw you growing up!” Wirt is forty-five yet he sounds far from it.

Hoo boy.

“… Oh my gosh!” Steven gasps like a fanboy, “I have an uncle!”

Wirt relaxes like he was about to be attacked.

“That’s so cool! I mean, I have Uncle Andy, but I never knew Dad had a brother!” Steven says excitedly.

Wirt frowns. “Yeah, but… Andy? I’m pretty sure he’s my cousin. You know him? And he’s living here?

“Sort of – but I’m so glad to meet you!” Steven pulls him into a hug.

“Oof-!”

Oh god, he’s strong.

“Ah, sorry! Sorry.” The kid lets go and pats his shoulder awkwardly. “I got excited.”

Despite his anxiety, Wirt laughs. “Don’t worry, Steven. I’m really happy to know my nephew, too.”

Steven gasps, “Oh, right! My dad has just gotten back from his last tour! He’ll be so surprised!”

Hold on, tour? A music tour?

“He won’t believe it when I tell him I just met my uncle,” Steven giggles.

“Haha yeah,” Wirt swallows. “Let me just get my coffee.”

While knowing that would be rude, the man slams his hands on the balcony.

“Make me three cups of coffee. Espresso.”

Lars snorts. “Sure, Uncle Universe. Would you like a little souvenir?”

“Yes, for my wife. She loves space.”

“I have an aunt, too?!” Steven exclaims.

“Cool,” Lars comments. “Who knows, I might take her to see it.”

Wirt doesn’t question it and drinks the espresso in five minutes.

He feels like he might puke.

--

Next chapter

[sayonarasanity]

Reverberation

Chapter V

link to AO3

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

notes: the song that will be mentioned in this chapter is She's a Rainbow by Lola Marsh and also here is the Spotify link. I highly recommend you to listen to it especially while reading that part. it's truly an incredible song

The first year of high school passed by in the blink of an eye. Between the adjustment of classes, advanced math, and literature, teachers of idiosyncratic character treats and a variety of teens in the class he didn’t even understand the period between September and June. If he was being honest there wasn’t much noteworthy difference between middle school and high school except for the lessons and maybe some physical changes among his peers as well as himself. Save for the height part. Apparently, he wasn’t gifted like that giant Mike or the very sophisticated Erwin Smith.

There was nothing much to do during the summer break. He worked alongside his uncle in the market to at least gain some money and not spend his whole time lying on his bed, sweaty and gasping for a breath while a single leaf on a tree begged for a tiny breeze to make it wiggle. He read some books, watched some TV shows, played soccer with the other boys in class; Mike, Erwin, Oluo, Guther, Eld and even Moblit when or if they were around. Went to the beach with the same squad in addition to girls like Petra, Nifa, Nanaba and Hanji.

Most of his time was spent with Hanji, of course. On the roof, in the attic, in each other’s rooms, sometimes at the library—because the heat didn’t stop Hanji from being a complete nerd—and sometimes she helped him in the market while stuffing his mind with countless  mind-blowing  topics.

And so came the second year of high school.

And it took Hanji only two weeks to be late for the first class in the morning.

“I can’t believe you actually slept in,” Levi told her after she came inside the class during the break, gasping, her face flushed red possibly from running, hair dishevelled and absolutely not  combed,  and sat down on her desk in front of him.

She was trying to adjust her breaths as she turned over to face him. The dispersed, brown strands were covering her face, some of them had stuck on her reddened cheek and forehead. After the not so successful haircut, Levi had given her, she had also gotten bangs. Courtesy of her mother. “I was reading a book last night.”

“And?” He raised a brow.

She pushed the glasses up, and leaned in closer, putting an elbow on top of his desk. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“What kind of book could possibly make you stay awake all night?”

“It’s called The Blind Owl.” She shivered as if a chill had gone through her body. “It was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read. And the thing is I couldn’t stop reading it because it was also ridiculously intriguing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes under her glasses. “It cost me my sleep though.”

“That bad, huh?” Levi asked, but it was obvious from the dark circles under her eyes.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad actually. It was masterfully written for sure. It was just—”

“Disturbing.”

“Yes. There is no other word to explain it.” She ran a hand through her dispersed hair, but her fingers got stuck between the knots. Then she looked at her wrist and groaned frustrated. “I forgot my hair tie.”

One of the things the almost six years of friendship with Hanji had thought him was to collect the items she had a habit of forgetting, mostly in his room. He had a drawer full of her lost, black hair ties. He kept a few on his pencil case or sometimes, like today, he carried one of them on his wrist. “Here,” he said extending it to her.

“What would do without you?” she whined as she took the tie from him.

“You wouldn’t survive a day,” Levi pointed out. It wasn’t even half-joke.

“Agreed,” she nodded. She had finished tying up her hair. Now her face was more on display, the flush on her cheeks was nearly gone. Levi realized that her nape was not covered with the too-short strands that couldn’t make it into her sloppy, little ponytail.

His hand moved instinctively, naturally even. “Your hair has grown long again,” he told her with a frown. And when his fingers touched her bare nape, she winced quite clearly for his frown to get deeper. He retreated his hand upon her reaction.

Her hand held the place he had barely touched seconds ago and when she noticed his expression she laughed. “God, your fingers are cold.”

Levi folded his hand as a fist, pressing his fingertips on his palm to see if his fingers were indeed cold as she had said. His body temperature was low, it was no news to him but at the moment his fingertips was not that cold for her to give such a reaction. Maybe because she had run here it was her body which was unnaturally hot, he reasoned, not really satisfied but he would accept it for the time being.

“Do you want me to cut it?”

“No,” she objected, avoiding his stare. “I’ll use it like this for a while.”

Her hand went on rubbing her neck, it seemed like an almost unintentional, absent-minded motion at this point.

“I made some research,” Hanji said when the silence got a little awkward for their standards. She then looked through her bag with both hands and slammed a wrinkled piece of paper on his desk.

“What’s this?” He examined her inelaborate handwriting but couldn’t understand the overall concept of what was written. Meanwhile, Hanji brought a pen over the page and underlined two words that were written in capital letters.

ROSE and SINA.

“These two are the best universities of the country,” she started to explain. “Both in terms of education and in terms of different opportunities for students. Student clubs are very much active also the campuses are huge.”

Levi had heard of the universities of course. They were named after the cities they were located in. Sina was almost three hours away from their town and Rose was even further in the opposite direction. But they had to leave the town at some point if they wanted to receive a good education. As Hanji had told the two of them were probably their best options and if they manage to keep their grades high enough there was a chance for both of them to make it into the same university. But, which one?

“But?”

“But” she carried the pen over the word Sina and drew a circle around it. “Since Sina is a technical university, I think it is a far better option for us considering the departments we want to study.”

Levi hummed thoughtfully. She did have a point.

“Also,” she continued, eyes glittering. “Great professors like Keith Shadis, Theo Magath and Darius Zackly are teaching there. Imagine the lectures…” she shrieked with excitement and wiggled in her seat. “It’s gonna be so fun!”

Levi shook his head at her quite early thrill and snatched the pencil out of her hand. He drew an arrow to the word Sina and wrote elegantly above: GOAL. “Sina it is then.”

Hanji took the pencil back and while nodding she scratched the word he had just written and instead, bringing the pencil a little to the crosswise she wrote: DREAM.

She looked at him then as if to confirm, with a bright smile on her lips and eyes full of the glitter of the dream she held so close to her heart. It was contagious. Levi felt his lips curling up, and maybe a tiny bit of that lustre in her eyes had reached out to his own. And he thought that maybe it wasn’t that hard after all.

How naïve, a sly, foreign voice whispered in the back of his mind. Little boy, how naïve.

-

“So, what’s going on between you two?”

Hanji lifted her eyebrows upon Nifa’s question and moved her stare to whom the question was directed. Nanaba gulped her bite with seemingly a little more force than necessary and blinked innocently at Nifa. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Nifa wiggled her brows, smirking mischievously at their suffering friend. “You and Mike.”

Petra hid a chuckle behind her hand as Hanji bit her cheek inside to stop her smile from shaping so obviously. They were sitting in the backyard of the school on an arbour for lunch. There was still for about half an hour until their next class and from the looks of it, Nifa had decided to use it for some gossip.

“Nothing,” Nanaba answered nonchalantly then she brought the straw of her peach juice to her mouth and took a very long sip. Hanji didn’t miss the faint blush on her cheekbones. “We’re friends.”

“You’re a little too close for being friends, don’t you think?” Nifa asked with a sweet voice, dropping her chin on top of her intertwined fingers, smiling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Nanaba brushed her off, taking another bite from her sandwich.

“Stop tormenting her, Nifa,” Hanji interrupted just as Nifa was about to say something else. “She can tell us when she feels like it.” Hanji then smirked at a very pissed Nanaba, who was glaring at her so hard Hanji thought she could catch flames just by responding to her stare.

Suddenly, someone dropped something in front of her with a loud “pat” and Hanji looked down, startled, to a packet of chocolate milk, then looked up to a frowning Levi.

“Did you eat?”

“Yep!” Hanji rested her chin on her palm and smiled at him. “Did you?”

He nodded silently and gestured at the milk standing on the wooden table. “You’re gonna pay me back for that later.”

“Stingy,” she murmured as he turned his back to her. Hanji saw the other boys gathered up around a bench a little away from where she and the girls sat. And before Levi went too far away, she shouted behind him, “When shall we meet again?”

He glanced at her above his shoulder. “After school,” he said, flatly.

“Come on, Levi!” She lifted her chin from her palm, disappointed. “You should’ve said “when the hurly-burly is done”, I thought you were better than that!”

He turned his whole body to her this time, walking backwards. A smirk played on one corner of his lips, midday sun caught his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. “And you should’ve asked, “in thunder, lightning or in rain?” I thought you were better than  that , genius.”

Take him and cut him out in the little stars.

Levi was beautiful. Hanji recalled the day she had first realized it, the faint yellow leaves and the crackling sound of fire. The realization had hit hard, and she couldn’t have understood the reason why right away. It was startling that was for sure but after some thorough and logical consideration, she had decided that it was all about being a teenager.

It was that simple. Thinking a boy was beautiful was natural. Besides, it wasn’t just Levi. Erwin, for instance, was attractive. With a sharp chin, bright, blue eyes and that shiny yellow hair that always looked so soft like cotton. He wasn’t necessarily beautiful though but attractive still, handsome even.

And he will make the face of Heaven so fine.

Levi turned his back to her again and Hanji snorted, opening the straw of her chocolate milk. “He got me bad.”

When she put the straw between her lips for a long sip, she realized the silence that has settled on the table and when she took a glance above her glasses, she saw the three other girls looking at her.

“What?” she asked after gulping.

“What’s with you two?”

“Huh?”

It was Nifa again and this time the question was directed at her. “You and Levi?”

Hanji blinked, trying to reason her question. “What about us?”

“You seem close,” Petra added instead of Nifa. Her hazel eyes curious as she observed Hanji. “Like real close.”

Hanji frowned and pushed her glasses back to their proper place. “We are best friends.” They seriously hadn’t understood it for a year?

“I bet everyone thinks you’re dating,” Nifa said laughing.

Oh? “That’s ridiculous,” Hanji said, shaking her head. “Why would I date my best friend?”

Nifa shrugged, and Petra looked thoughtful. “How long have you been friends?”

Hanji didn’t know why but she felt her stomach curl. “Since we were eleven.”

Petra hummed and the conversation seemed to be over like that. Hanji chewed the plastic stick thoughtfully and with distress, she couldn’t find the reason why. The curl stayed solid in her stomach, sharp and insistent. Absently she noticed that Petra was staring somewhere with a strange expression in her eyes and when Hanji followed her stare, she saw Levi standing in front of the bench the other boys were sitting. Mike who was standing next to him had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he looked content, his features relaxed, his black hair looked smooth touching his forehead.

That all the world will be in love with the night.

Goddamn Juliet, she thought bitterly, frowning she took her eyes away from him. Goddamn Shakespeare.

*

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

It was Wednesday afternoon on a nice autumn day. Near them was a tree slowly getting peeled off its leaves, and the clouds were reflecting the orange light the sun created. It was also reflecting on her ginger hair, making it shine almost yellow.

“I, uh…” Petra cleared her throat, squeezed her hair behind her ear as the blush that had appeared on her cheeks gradually became more visible. “This is harder than I expected.”

Levi raised his brows. He had been wondering what Petra wanted to talk to him ever since she asked him if they could meet after school in the backyard this morning. He had found it a little awkward because it had felt like she wanted to talk to him in private and he couldn’t have thought of any reason why she would wish for that.

“You look nervous,” he told her.

“Well, of course, I am,” Petra laughed, not a cheerful one. “I am trying to…”

She let out a sharp breath as if she was angry at herself and she wasn’t looking at him too. Her eyes were scanning their feet, her fingers were fidgeting, brows furrowed.

And Levi was quietly getting an idea about why she wanted to talk to him.

“Just tell me,” He tried to encourage her, feeling his own heartbeat getting faster abruptly.  

Finally, she looked up at him, her cheeks painted crimson and she took a long, deep breath before she said, “Would you like to go to the cinema with me?”

“Oh,” he said.

Not the kind of reaction he should’ve given apparently. Petra bit her lower lip anxiously at first, searching his eyes. He must be pretty shocked for she looked a little discouraged upon his reaction. But within seconds she gathered herself up, her shoulders held high.

“I… liked you since the seventh grade,” she said, the blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, but she continued to be resolute without looking anywhere else than him. “And I thought that there is nothing wrong with asking a boy out if that boy doesn’t seem to be doing it anytime close.”

Levi felt his own cheeks heating up. Admittedly, he had never realized Petra had such feelings for him. “Sorry.”

Petra laughed, somewhat forcefully. “It’s okay,” she gulped, and a weak smile vibrated on her lips. “Just don’t be harsh if you’re gonna say no.”

Levi considered her offer quietly. Petra had always been a good friend and she was a nice person too. Kind, tidy and even funny. She loved painting and drawing and was pretty gifted at them as well. And she smelled fresh, Levi guessed it was because of the softener she used on her clothes, her hair was soft, and her eyes were pretty.

“When do you want to go?”

Said pretty eyes glittered as she beamed at him. For a second, in the back of his mind, he saw a very similar image belonging to another girl with auburn hair and hazel-brown eyes who had a smile that reminded him of the rainbow after rain and sun.

“What about this Friday after school?” Petra asked, excitedly.

“Sure,” Levi responded, trying to smile and ignore the weird feeling in his stomach.

*

When he stepped into the roof, the night was chilly, the sky was full of transparent, quietly moving clouds, the stars were shining behind them, the Wanning Gibbous was hanging low on the horizon, and Hanji was standing on the edge of the roof, her head laid backwards.

Levi didn’t even know if he breathed, his heart jumped to his throat as he threw his schoolbag to the ground and walked closer to her from behind cautiously. “Hanji, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Watching the sky,” she replied, smiling.

Levi felt a muscle move on his jaw; his heart was beating so loud it almost hurt his ears. He focused on adjusting his breaths. In and out. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get back down.”

Hanji shrugged and Levi nearly had a heart attack right then and there. He felt his eyes widen, and his breath hitched. “I feel closer to the clouds like this.”

“Hanji,” he took slow, careful steps towards her. The night breeze was toying with her dispersed hair, her face was tranquil, her eyes never left the sight of the clouds. The smile that was drawn on her lips was unmoving like it was craved there by the hands of a masterful sculptor. And he watched her, his heart still beating fast and loud, his breaths irregular, and his eyes wide, and he thought about—

Stars

how free she looked at that moment like she belonged to the sky, the stars and the moon. As if they shone for her only.

hide your fires.  

Brown hair and brown eyes but Hanji was luminous. She kept the colours hidden, had a brush and a palette ready in her hand. The murky night did nothing but to contrast the light, she had a way with the world which made her stood out among the dullest of sounds and faces. Even on top of a derelict building, she was—

Let not light see—

the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He grabbed her wrist, inhaling hard and thick then he drew her back with a quick move of his arm. Her body turned and crashed against him, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, but he kept his balance, wrapping his arms around her waist securely, without any intention of letting go. He vaguely heard the surprised shriek Hanji made upon his unexpected move. And he half-expected her to push him back, to laugh it off and to say that he was being dramatic again. That nothing was going to happen anyway, it wasn’t like she was going to jump.

Yet instead, her arms circled his neck as she rested her cheek on his head and at that very moment Levi realized that he had never thought of losing her, of what would happen if she were to leave his life. Just like he had never imagined a day without the sun rising. The thought was uninvited and unwelcomed, and it cropped a fear in his heart so profound, he drew a shivering breath in before he buried his face on her neck. Then he pushed that thought deep down to the dungeon in his head never to see daylight again.

“I’m okay, you know,” Hanji spoke after seconds.

“Stupid,” he said, holding her tighter. “Stupid four-eyes.”

“Mm,” she muttered, amused. Then she started to move left and right making him follow her movements as if they were dancing. “I’m going to let all the world know that Levi Ackerman cares for me.”

Levi placed his forehead on her shoulder, pressing hard. “Someone needs to care for your sorry ass, or you’ll drop it down a goddamn building.”

She laughed, and it felt so good to hear it he immediately craved the sound soon as it faded away. Hanji stopped moving afterwards, then put her hands on his shoulder to push him slightly back. He withdrew reluctantly but kept his hands on either side of her waist not ready to let go just yet.

Her eyes were somewhat misty as she watched him, as the sharp peak of a mountain lost behind a grey fog. Levi frowned at her, searching for a sturdy branch to hold and to obtain some kind of a clue about what she was thinking. He came back empty-handed, and Hanji snapped out of it soon after, smiling at him brightly and warm. Her hair was all over her face, her glasses were askew, and he brought a hand up to fix them.

Then he flicked her forehead instead.

“Ouch!” She exclaimed, touching the slightly damaged skin.

“That was for almost giving me a heart attack,” Levi said nonchalantly and walked past her to grab his schoolbag. Then he sat down, bag between his legs as he searched for the snacks he bought after school.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” Hanji muttered as she placed herself next to him. “But you were just being dramatic. I wasn’t going to jump anyway.”

*

So, here was the thing, he needed to tell Hanji.

But he didn’t know how. Through all those years they had been friends, there had never been a secret among them. He knew everything about her. From the fact that she had fed a frog in her room when she was only seven without telling neither of her parents and how she accidentally killed the poor animal by forgetting to feed it properly. And to the very first crush, she secretly had on a boy who didn’t even know who she was when she was ten. Each and every detail in between had been craved in his head, everything about her was a book he had learnt by heart, and he knew that for her it was the same.

He didn’t understand why he was so unwilling now about telling her about Petra. Frankly, he was going to tell her yesterday but when he saw her standing on the edge of the goddamn roof, he had forgotten all about it in a second. Thursday, which was today, he couldn’t have found a chance to talk to her alone and tomorrow was Friday. And he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do.

Levi traced the shadows on the ceiling with his eyes, lying on his bed. It was near eleven pm but he didn’t have any sleep. Should he call Hanji? But no. It wasn’t something he could tell on the phone. It would be absurd and out of nowhere—

His phone started to vibrate on the bedside table.

He jumped a little, surprised at hearing a sound other than the voices in his head then stared at the phone for a while until he decided that it was going to ring till he opened it. And so, he did.

“I thought you had fallen asleep,” Hanji spoke before him as he lied back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I was trying to,” he lied.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized without sounding a bit sincere. “But this is more important than your sleep so…”

He raised a brow. “What did you learn again?”

“A lot of things. But that is not the reason why I called.” Levi heard some clatter he guessed it was the pressing of the computer keys. “I found a new song.”

He exhaled, wearily. “Seriously?”

“Wait before you judge,” she said. “Do you remember the time when you said, this is going to sound weird but, I was a rainbow?”

“No.”

“I hate you,” she said, darkly. “It was our first time in the attic. I had told you about –”

“I know, Hanji.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I remember.”

She grunted and said some things he couldn’t quite pick clearly under her breath. “You don’t really deserve this but since I’m a nice person I’ll let you listen to it.”

He snorted, lips curling on the corners, and he waited for the song to start. And not long after, he heard the first notes, then a soft voice of a woman followed. He also heard Hanji accompanying quietly behind, murmuring the lyrics alongside. Then he closed his eyes to focus on the song properly.

Dearest, I'm broken

My body is unspoken

How could I be loved?

Wake up in the morning

Feeling uncertain

Like a burning old scar

For I remember

The joy I’ve had as a child

Various colours I’m hiding inside

She’s a rainbow

And I am

A difficult man

It was as if the song, the lyrics, the notes, the singer’s voice were each had little hooks, they captured his soul relentlessly. He felt captive, unable to move. The song made him feel way too many things, with an intensity that nearly choke him as he lied there. His throat felt tight, even after the song ended, notes faded, and all he could hear was Hanji’s regular breaths a complete opposite of how his heart pounded at the moment.

“So?” She asked when he was unable to speak. “What do you think?”

Levi cleared his throat, he needed to talk dammit. “It was nice.”

“Just nice?” She didn’t sound pleased at his response. “But you have to listen to it every day Levi so that you wouldn’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” Was she kidding?

“We don’t know where life would take us,” Hanji told him, her voice calm now. “It’s the reality of the world. I’m just guarantying myself.”

Oh, so she didn’t know? That no matter where life carried him, no matter how high and wild the waves would be it would change nothing. The sun would rise from the west, and all the world would crumble, melt and disappear. But he wouldn’t forget her.

“What if you forget me?” Levi redirected the question to her, wondering her answer.

“I wouldn’t,” she said, not hesitating.

“How do you know?”

“If I’m a rainbow then that would make you the sky, remember?” Some distinct shuffling came to his ears, and he imagined her lying on her side, the phone still on speaker resting on top of her pillow. “Whenever I look up at the sky, I will think about you.”

“Sappy,” he whispered, ignoring the aftershock her words caused.

She chuckled in response and yawned loudly. “Only for you, clean-freak.”

*

Friday after the last class ended Hanji gathered up her things quickly. It had been an incredibly long and tiring week. She couldn’t wait to spend some time with Levi on the roof, just talking about things that didn’t matter, things that were easy to speak of because they were still young and had years ahead to take them seriously.

She waited for Levi outside, leaning against the school building as he went to the bathroom. She busied herself with observing the exhausted students leaving the school borders, chattering between themselves. It was getting chilly and the black denim jacket she was wearing didn’t do a good job at protecting her. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to her palms to at least cover her hands. She spotted Petra a few inches away from where she was standing. She was walking back and forth, fiddling with a piece of paper she held in her hands. Hanji found it a little strange but shrugged, deciding it wasn’t her business.

Finally, among the rain of students that walked through the school gate, Levi appeared. His face and some parts of his hair damp, indicating that he had just washed his face.

“Feeling refreshed enough?” Hanji asked, smirking.

“Yeah,” Levi murmured, and he looked around briefly.

“Come on,” Hanji pushed herself up from the wall. “Let’s go. We better grab something to eat on the way. I’m starving.”

She had taken only a few steps when she heard Levi calling out to her quietly. “Hanji.”

“Mm?”

He appeared to be uneasy as he looked at her, brows knitted, and lips pressed. Curiosity rose within her swiftly as she expected the words he was about to say.

“I can’t come to the roof with you today.”

Of all the things she thought about that was the least, she had expected to hear. Her stomach started to burn again, and she imagined a cauldron inside. Burning so fiercely and it never promised anything good. “Why?” Hanji asked, sounding just as surprised as she possibly looked.

Levi’s eyes moved to somewhere above her shoulder. She wanted to trace his stare but was too busy observing his expression, a little anxious, tense and what? Embarrassed? But why?

“Levi?”

“I… am going to the cinema,” he blurted eventually, his eyes finding her again. “With Petra.”

Cinema… with Petra?

“As a date?” She sounded bewildered again as if she couldn’t believe her ears. It wasn’t something to be that surprised about considering their age, hormones and everything. But it was Levi. Levi… It had always been the two of them, now imagining him spending time alone with someone else—she hadn’t prepared herself for that.

“I guess,” Levi rubbed his neck. Oh, he was shy about it too? Was he excited, was he looking forward to it? Was he going to hold her hand as he held hers? Did he even  like  her? When had this thing happened anyway?

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He seemed guilty, and he should be too. They were best friends for a reason. If she wasn’t going to be the first one to know about his first  date, what was the point to it?

“It happened just this Wednesday. I couldn’t find a proper time—”

“This Wednesday?” She tried not to reflect her disappointment in her voice. “It was two days ago, mind you. You had plenty of time.”

“Hanji—”

“Did you ask her out?” Hanji went on, not giving him any chance to speak. “How long have you liked her?”

“It’s not—” He frowned, his jaw tightened, and a blaze came to life in his eyes. “She asked me.”

“Oh? How brave!” She felt like laughing and somewhere deep inside she knew that she was exaggerating, that she should be happy for him instead. Yet the disappointment was much heavier, and it stood out so blatantly, so arrogantly that it didn’t give her any time to think reasonably.  

“Hanji, don’t.” He stepped forward but she withdrew in an instant.

“Have a nice date,” she said, and she failed at hiding the sarcasm behind. And she thought she saw a flickering of hurt in his eyes but didn’t stay long enough to acknowledge it. With a final look she gave to a confused Petra, she walked out of school. And the cauldron bubbled, bubbled and it burned, and it hurt. Then Hanji wished it would turn the wildflower to ashes to its roots so that it wouldn’t spring again. Wishful thinking it was because the wildflower was already the reason why the flames come alive in the first place.

*

Hanji didn’t quite remember when or how but she was sitting on the swing on the park near Levi’s house, the park they had buried the dead bird all those years ago. Strange how the years passed. She felt old for some reason despite the fact that she was only sixteen and life hadn’t even started for her yet. But she yearned for that little girl now, playing snowball fight with a boy who drank a little too much tea and swore a little too much for their age. Then she cursed at herself for being so frail, for letting her emotions draw the road she would walk.

The streetlamp near the park had a weak light. It trembled from time to time, squeaking as if it was at death’s door. She pondered it was a good metaphor as to how she felt now. Exaggerating? Maybe. But Levi had become such a constant in her life, it felt like the time Jack had crashed her glasses. She remembered how blurry everything seemed and how dizzy she had felt.

“Hanji?”

She blinked and following the voice she lifted her eyes up from the ground. It was Erwin, standing in front of her, with a curious expression painted on his face. What was he doing here?

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Hanji shook her head, realizing that she had been blinking at Erwin absently. Then nodded, voicing a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

He sat down on the swing next to her, dropping his school bag on the ground. It was a funny sight. A boy of Erwin’s age and height sitting on a child swing. His legs were much too long for that, but he used them to move back and forth slowly.

“I was just passing by,” he said, shrugging. “What are you doing here alone? Where’s Levi?”

She didn’t need to be reminded of the fact that whenever someone saw one of them alone, they immediately wondered where the other was.  I am acting like a child.  Then she started to move back and forth herself, holding the chains on either side. “He is on a date,” she informed Erwin. “With Petra.”

Then the movements of her legs fastened to the point where she had to curl them so that they wouldn’t slow her down. She used her body against the wind, it ruffled her hair, and her hair blocked her vision. And she thought about Levi who was with Petra and Petra who was kind and pretty. Petra who had shiny hair which was always combed and tidy. Petra who was funny and nice and—

“Hanji!”

Ah, her vision was blurry. Had she dropped her glasses again?

“Hey, slow down!”

She couldn’t slow down but someone, Erwin, she remembered, made her. He was holding the sides of the swing, kneeling down in front of her, he looked into her eyes. Hanji noticed his eyes were a different kind of blue not so fierce like the winter ocean, but kind and worried at the moment. Yellow, thick eyebrows knitted, “Are you okay?” Erwin asked.

It was the second time he had asked the same question and it confused her a bit. Did she look that bad? “Yeah,” she confirmed. Her voice came out cracked.

Then Erwin reached out with his hand. Hanji waited silently as he wiped her cheek with his thumb and under her chin with his knuckles. His hand shone under the shrieking light of the streetlamp when he withdrew it, with tears, she realized with a startle. She lifted her hand then, her eyes wide and touched her damp cheek.

“I can walk you home if you’d like,” Erwin offered with a voice so gentle Hanji thought she hated it. Hated because she didn’t want pity when she was the one that had brought this upon herself.

She blinked at her wet fingers, her sight getting blurry again and used her other hand to adjust her glasses.  She could walk herself home, and she opened her mouth to say that much to Erwin. But words betrayed her half-way and what came out was, “I’d appreciate that,” instead, as she accepted, silently. “Thank you.”