#nick fighting the horrors yet again

[nicholasbutmagical]

me and my stuffed animals against the world

[jinuaei]

Perception

Yandere!Self aware! Leon Kennedy x Player! Reader pt. 2

To be the person whose deity's eyes are cast upon is a bliss. This is what Leon feels, bliss. The slow descent to madness from being in this unholy situation is overwhelmed by your presence, your guidance and warmth suppressing the fear and stress. Truth be told he has not been paying attention to whatever Marvin is talking about but thats fine, you'll pay attention for him right?

He can feel himself flush, his insides burning hot with embarrassment and horror, though on the outside no splash of red can be seen on his cheeks. How dare he assign work to you when he is the one who is supposed to be doing everything? He is but your humble servant, he is the one who should be doing the task of listening to this boring police man, not you!

Leon quickly snaps back reality and luckily was able to catch where the emblems are located. Noting it down mentally, he descends to the western wing of the station after receiving a knife from Marvin. Progressing through the halls he thinks back to earlier when he was still trying to fight against your influence, he truly was an idiot. But he was still happy that he submitted to you sooner, rather than later.

A sudden crash of glass breaking pierce through his left ear, a groan following after. Leons body freezes up and a strong feeling of panic rattles his brain. He shot the corpse on the head within a second, blowing it up in pieces. The panic still flows through his brain but not the rest of him, on the contrary his whole body is calm but his mind isn't. As he tries to understand why the fear he is feeling is strange he soon realized that… It's not mine. I'm not scared, THEY are.

Hot rage courses through his veins as he glares at the lump of meat underneath him, his fingers itching to grab the leather grip of the knife and stab it. Again. And again. And again. How dare that thing scare you? Nonetheless, Leon can't do anything but just seethe quietly. After a while, he can feel the panic subside and his body jerks towards the stairs, walking cautiously. Nothing much happened after that, other than the licker almost nicking him, it was a very quiet journey. Going back to Marvin, the older man showed him the cctv footage of a girl outside, recognizing her as his companion from earlier. He felt relief upon knowing that she was safe from harm. He was then directed to the 2nd floor of the east wing where he'll be able to get her that way.

As he exits the doorway to the side extrance of the station a shout from below him captured his attention. Looking over the rails, the red jacket highlighted her form, of course it was--

"Claire!"

Joyfully he walks down the stairs, but as soon as he takes a step your warmth is gone from his body. Why…why can't he feel you inside him? Did you abandon him?? No no no… You're still there, he can feel your eyes gazing onto him but his body can only percieve the coldness of the night.

Even with his inner turmoil the show must go on. Without his permission his body moves perfectly, their conversation flowing so smoothly it was almost like following a script. However he knows that whatever is happening is unnatural, the smile he gives to Claire seems robotic, he tries to take control with his body but the only thing that he manages to do was to smile awkwardly, a brief flash of fear in his eyes. Even if Claire did notice she didn't say anything, just talking like normal.

Tuning back to their conversation he can hear himself speak.

"That's good. Any luck with your brother?"

"No, not yet."

He tuned everything out again because he felt disgusted being controlled by something other than you. Soon an explosion interrupts both of them, the sound of groans soon following. They look at each other with understanding and separated ways. Within a second, your warmth encompass his body and fill him with new vigor, the bliss returning as he realizes your departure was only temporary. Then his thoughts became more dark and more desperate.

The feeling of losing you, even temporary was heartbreaking. Him sensing you but not able to touch you was torture. But…he will bear with it, as long as you come back to him. So please, don't ever leave him again.

[adrixivy]

Imagine the Avengers have a shared album. It was an album that they all made so they can update on what they’re doing and it was all Peter’s suggestion so the team could bond more. Yet Peter changes it up one day by dumping pics of the Avengers from afar and they’re all looking up, wondering where the fuck is Peter taking the photos from.

Then Peter dumps 0.5 pics of Tony when he was sleeping or Tony simply allowed it because he was tired to say anything and it was the most ridiculously outrageous photos of Tony that Tony is immediately up from his chair in the lab and finding Peter, yelling about him deleting the photos.

Peter only does it when Tony hasn’t eaten a full meal or anything in a day or has not slept at all since he was busy overworking himself. And it always works.

Soon, the shared album that was previously about updates became a place to dump the most ridiculous photos of the Avengers or the shenanigans they do that it would be a PR nightmare for their PR team to manage(SHIELD is definitely their PR team even though Nick Fury is not paid enough for it)

Clint, dumping photos of Bucky and Steve on the couch together: *captioned ‘Look at this lovebirds!’*

Bucky checks his phone and is immediately showing Steve and the two glare at the vent at the left corner of the room where they hear distant giggles as Clint crawls away

Peter sending a photo of Tony and Stephen making out in the kitchen: *captioned ‘EW MR STARK GET A ROOM!’*

Tony pauses and pulls away from Stephen who frowns when he pulls his phone out. Tony gasped in horror and showed the phone to Stephen before spotting his son and immediately charging at him (“Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, you get your tiny ass here right now!”) Stephen sighs and sends the cloak after his lover and son. Cloak wraps around Peter who screams for mercy and Tony grinned

Bruce sending a picture of Sam drinking a Caprisun: *Captioned ‘Peter I think that’s yours..’*

Peter suddenly appears and tackles Sam, screaming that it was his last one and the man now owns him a box. Sam is screaming back, saying ‘Get Stark to buy that, he has money!’ and the two is fighting till Steve pulls them apart

Natasha sends a photo of Clint surrounded by fire as he burns down their kitchen for the fifth time this month: *captioned ‘Guys he’s at it again’*

Tony immediately presses a button that shoots out foam that extinguishes the fire from the ceiling, covering Natasha and Clint in it. Natasha is fuming and Tony just realised he’s mistake and locked down his lab.

Rhodey sends a picture of Tony partying in his suit during that one party he did when he was dying. Tony is embarrassed of how idiotic he was. Peter is cackling before he’s immediately silenced by a glare from the older man

Tony starts to mess with Steve one day after he finds records of him in the past when he went through his father’s things. Tony sends a photo of Steve pre-super serum that he happened to find and Steve rolls his eyes and groans when Bucky laughs at him, making fun of the blonde (“The dwarf who was like ‘I can do this all day’ with a bleeding nose, HAH!”) The rest of the Avengers laugh, snicker or is genuinely surprised how skinny Steve actually was

Tony uploads a black and white video of Steve in the army in the past, seemingly forming a plan before the camera cuts to Bucky’s photo in a pocket watch as Steve checks the time. He quickly shuts the pocket watch and hides it. Bucky is slightly flustered and Steve is embarrassed. (“Tony where the hell are you getting this!”)

(⬆️Inspired by that one scene in Captain America: The First Avenger!)

I can picture Peter and Wanda sending edits of the Avengers they found on Tiktok to the album or videos they found online of the Avengers epic fails. Since they’re probably the only two who has Tiktok or scroll through social media and definitely wanted the Avengers to see this. Or simply any news that they find hilarious or the Avengers needed to know. Tony joins on the news because Friday always updates him

Wanda sending an edit of Natasha on TikTok: *Captioned ‘Look at this hot momma!’

Natasha is flattered, chuckling as she rewatches the edit and wondering where people got this clips from.

Peter sends a video titled ‘The Avengers Fails!’ which show Tony being thrown back to a signboard, Steve falling from a building with a yell, Thor being thrown back to the hulk which the hulk is angered by and he’s thrown again at a billboard, Wanda tripping over a step, Clint being dragged along in the air at the back of the Quinjet screaming, Bucky’s arm being thrown in Tony’s face, Rhodey and Tony crashing into each other, Stephen accidentally letting out an ancient monster and desperately trying to close it back up and finally Natasha’s gun being slapped away by a giant when she shoots it. The Avengers are immediately embarrassed and Friday plays the video to get their egos in check once a month. Peter has multiple compilations of fails online so he isn’t embarrassed. He believes it’s part of his spidey persona so he embraces it with open arms. The Avengers find it impossible to embarrass him when he’s Spiderman.

Tony sends an online magazine, specifically one page where it’s all about Steve. And his magnificent ‘America’s Ass’. Steve sighs and knows Tony has something to do with the magazine when he actually doesn’t. Bucky secretly downloads the page

[sublimeinal-messages]

OKAY OKAY SO THE TRAILER’s DROPPED AND WHILE IM SO BEYOND PSYCHED TO SEE EVERYONE I HAVE SOME OBSERVATIONS. (With pictures). Apologies for the long post lol

First off:

Powers confirmed coming back for everyone!

Five is teleporting, Viktor’s powered up, Ben’s got the horror, Luther has his muscles again

Speaking of Luther, he seems to be all over the place. In some shots he has his muscles, in some he doesn’t, in one shot he’s donning spacegear, another he’s in a ballpit, and they even make him sit in the back of the van for old time’s sake

No Sloane tho?? No sparrows at all as far as I can tell :| idk how to feel about that

Another little detail I noticed was when they all pile in the van together, Lila calls shotgun and is promptly shoved aside by Five out of sheer pettiness. And then she has to sit in the middle

They seem to have a bonding moment in the subway with Lila sobbing as Five holds onto her, which I’m very curious about (and scared)

Diego’s shown at a birthday party taking care of a little girl!! With braids! Possibly their daughter? Talk of a rescue mission makes me think their daughter might be kidnapped

Allison shown with a kid also has me thinking Claire returns which makes me so happy

Allison also doesn’t seem to be shot in a villainous or shunned light, so it looks like this season isn’t intent on bashing her (yet. As far as I can see, which honestly thank goodness…)

The dark circles under Ben’s eyes worry me, almost as much as the shot of him in prison(?) and him seemingly being out of sync with the others. Is this Sparrow Ben perhaps? Does it have anything to do with the possibility of there being another Ben? (Maybe he’s accused of identity theft?)

There’s also Another Tentacle in the promo image shared yesterday which I noticed. Maybe a second horror?

I thought maybe it had something to do with Jennifer since there’s been an actor hired for a character with that name, but now I wonder with the two Bens situation…

Reginald might have his Umbrella academy in the woods again? aligning with the comics. Unless this is someone else’s house. But the windows and white brick match.

Really curious how the academy has been rebranded in this universe to be a house for boys. Six, specifically. Seeing as how Allison is the only umbrella-born girl, it’s interesting to see how this universe has shifted to accommodate them all

Viktor might be a bartender?? The area looked familiar but it could just be my eyes. But apart from his Direct Interview with Reginald, (oooh scary) he seems to get in a physical fight with someone. Which is a new approach for him as a characater

Forgive my shitty captures but if it’s not Luther, diego, klaus or five I’m guessing it must be Ben?? But it’s hard to say, but he sure is going at it tho

Who are the square dancers??? My heart wants it to be jayme and Alphonso but the people here look older to me, so it could be Nick Offerman and Megan Mullalley.

Actually upon inspection the fuzzy square dancer has a matching beard pattern to Nick offerman Exactly. So that’s absolutely him.

Klaus really seems to be struggling again, and has those plastic gloves in almost every shot I see. Him dressing dark and drab also says something about his state of mind as well as the panic attack he seems to have :( but at least they’re all back together 🥲

Looks like they also seem to celebrate Christmas together? And a birthday. Honestly I’m just so happy to see them together for events like this I love these dysfunctional dorks so much

There’s so many more things I’m sure I missed and I’ll be rewatching this a few more times until the season drops (three months!!) but in the wise words of Diego: Let’s Fucking GOOOOOOOO I’m so excited for this. HELL YEAH, THE UMBRELLAS BACK TOGETHER AGAIN BAYBEEE

[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Survive

This is the second chapter of the Cyclops saga!! Hope you enjoy :)

(or cry. i did when I read this.) -cricket

Tags: @myfairkatiecat @ham-cheese-toastie @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @justalunaticfangirl (let us know if you want to be tagged in the future!)

Fitz hadn't had his adrenaline so high in ages. He'd fought in a war, but this felt more... real. Instead of a bunch of people trying to kill each other—over a woman, even—he and his men were fighting against a cyclops.

A real life, hungry, cyclops.

"The rest of our crew wait for us!" Fitz roared out over the commotion. "If we get killed, they're as good as dead."

He lifted up his sword to the cheers of his men. "How great is your will to survive?"

600 lives to save. No backup. Fitz thought, narrowing his eyes and trying to think of a way to defeat the cyclops. I only have to kill him.

At the word "kill" he faltered, thinking of the infant. If he kept taking lives, how long would it take for him to become a monster?

This is different, Fitz reminded himself. But... instead of killing, maybe we can just maim him a little.

He reminded himself to reach out to Sophie as soon as this was over. She always helped.

Anyway.

"Don't die on me now, not when we're so close to coming home!" He charged forward, and managed to nick the cyclops on the leg, eliciting a howl. Fitz grinned, satisfied.

"Surround him!" The chorus of soldiers cried out. "Attack him from behind!" As they constantly stabbed and slashed at the cyclops, Fits was scanning for any way to take Polyphemus out.

He came up empty every time, and soon the thrum of frustration set in. Blood was flying everywhere, and he saw with grim satisfaction that the source of most of it was the cyclops.

"How great is your will to survive?" Fitz didn't know who said that, but it reminded him of why he was trying to survive.

Sophie.

Marella.

Ithaca.

Stay in his blindspot! Strike his heels! Fitz transmitted out the orders.

He's strong, but he's slow, he thought to himself. How could they use that to their advantage?

"No dying on me now!" He yelled. "We just need to take one life and we're free!"

He must've jinxed it.

A scream pierced the air, and Fits instantly realized that it wasn't the roars of Polyphemus that he'd been hearing for the past minutes.

No, he realized in horror, it was one of his men.

"He's got a club!"

That was....Dex. No. No, no no, no. Not Dex.

"He's got a club!" Someone screamed again.

"Captian, what are our orders?" Keefe asked urgently.

"Captian?"

"Captain!?" That was Dex. Fitz rushed over to where his friend lay on the trampled grass. Dex looked like he'd been stepped on, which he actually might've.... His torso was bleeding from several gashes, and his legs were totally crushed.

"Dex..." Fitz started, tears burning in his eyes

"Captian--" he said, then coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Please don't forget to--" he coughed a little more-- "greet the world with open arms. For me?" Dex pleaded.

Fitz nodded shakily.

Dex's chest fell still.

Fitz vaguely registered tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared at his best friend.

Dex was dead.

Six people were dead.

He was snapped out of his trance as another one of his men yelled for him. Seven. Sven people died under his command. He stood up, shifting his sword around his hand. The cyclops was going to pay.

Only, before he could do anything, Polyphemus collapsed, a cloud of dust rising from where he lay.

Fitz grinned sadly. He'd forgotten about the lotus flowers in the wine. At least not too many people had died, yet.

We have to do what it takes to survive.

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter 3

chapter warnings: very very extremely brief mention of masturbation

i'm going to be posting chapter 4 with this one as they're both pretty short :) happy friday guys!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you stepped out of the shower, you reached for a towel from their usual place but much to your horror, there were none to be found. You panicked for a moment, wondering what to do. You knocked on the bathroom door and called out for Noah but there was no reply, so you called him instead, thanking whatever forces above that you brought your phone in the bathroom with you. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked from the kitchen as he answered the phone. 

“No, uh… there’s no towels in here-”

“Oh shit! They were the ones I brought down to the pool. Give me two seconds, I'll be right there.” 

“Thank you.” You laughed at the situation and stood awkwardly as you waited for Noah to return. 

“Y/n?” He asked, knocking on the door. 

You slowly opened the door, reaching your hand out as Noah passed you the towels. 

“Thank you!” You quickly wrapped one around you and your hair with the other before taking your phone and clothes and leaving the bathroom. 

You awkwardly walked past Noah in silence as he sat on his bed, pretending to be scrolling on his phone yet you felt his eyes on you before you walked straight to your room. 

Whilst you were getting dressed you had time to reflect on what happened in the pool, and one moment in particular kept replaying over and over again.

“You look so pretty like this”

The tone of voice he spoke in sent shivers through your body. You wanted to scream into your pillow, but you held it together. You were so close to kissing him until Folio announced that Nicholas had arrived. Would he have actually kissed you or would he have pulled away? Would it have gone any further?

You needed to talk to him, that was for sure. But first you needed to finish getting dressed. 

You slipped on an old oversized bad omens shirt that you stole from Bryan and a pair of old sleep shorts that were a little tight. You braided your hair and hyped yourself up to go downstairs where you knew Noah would be cooking dinner, as it had just gone 6pm.

As you walked down the stairs you spotted the two Nicks, who were in the middle of a rather heated debate. 

“Y/n! Who do you think would win, one horse sized duck or 20 duck sized horses?” Folio asked as you passed them. 

“If we’re talking about a cuteness battle then definitely the duck sized horses, but if it’s in a fight then I don’t know… the duck?” 

“Exactly!” Folio shouted to the Nicholas, and he continued to rant, his voice fading as you walked into the kitchen. 

“What are you making?” You asked, standing by the island, leaning slightly over it. 

“Well, it’s Italian night, so…” Noah reached into the oven to pull out a dish, “I’ve made lasagne.” 

“Ooh, yum!” You smiled, “any garlic bread?” 

“Yes, I wasn't sure if you'd want any so I made sure to get some extra just in case.” 

“Thanks,” you sighed, stepping closer to him, “look, Noah, I think we need to-”

“Noah!” Folio shouted, “Who do you think would win…”

“Nick, what? I cant hear you- Sorry, I’ll go see what he wants.” 

You threw your head back and groaned in annoyance. You’d worked up the courage to talk to him and he just walked away. You sighed once more and looked at the lasagne Noah had cooked, he'd done a pretty good job.

“Sorry, what were you gonna say?” Noah asked as he took back his place in the kitchen. 

“Nothing. I just needed to get a drink.” You mumble, grabbing a pepsi from the fridge. 

“Oh, okay. Can you tell the guys that dinner is almost done?”

“Sure.” You said, walking back into the living room, “Noah said dinners almost done.” You said as you sat next to Ruffilo, who was now on his phone, now attempting to ignore Nick. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was the middle of the night and you just could not sleep. The moment between you and Noah in the pool had been playing back in your mind as you tossed and turned in your bed. You reached over for your water and realised it was empty. 

Sighing, you kicked your feet out of the sheets and got up, using your phone as a flashlight as you made your way down the stairs. 

You made sure to be as quiet as possible as Nick and Nick were both asleep, snoring on the couch. However, when you reached the kitchen, to your surprise you weren’t alone. 

“Oh, hey.” You said to Noah as you got another bottle of water from the fridge. 

“Can’t sleep either?” He asked, and you shook your head. “What’s up?”

“I think I’m just nervous that’s all,” you lied, “about tour…”

“Understandable.” He said, “I forgot to mention our flights changed. We’ll be leaving tomorrow evening, but like I said last week, you’ll be perfectly fine, I’ve got you, okay? Bryan won’t let you overwork yourself or anything. We’ll make sure you have the best time.” He smiled in the dimly lit kitchen, the only light was coming from the torches on your phones which were placed upside down on the counter.

“Oh… Okay… Why can’t you sleep?” You asked. 

“A bit of everything really,” he admitted, “look, I’m sorry about earlier, in the pool. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t apologise.” You tell him, “if this is about the almost kiss then I wouldn’t have stopped you… It felt right.”

“I was talking about dragging you into the pool with me, when you were shouting for me to stop,” he said, a slight smirk on his lips, “what, are you saying you wanted to kiss me?”

“Oh… well, in that case, don’t worry. I wanted to get in anyway.” 

“Y/n.” 

“What?” 

“Don't ignore me, I asked you a question.” 

This man would be the death of you. 

“Well, in the moment I did, yeah.” You say, you wouldn’t dare look at him right now. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Noah, shut up before I post a picture of you on twitter.”

“Go ahead,” he said, his voice dropping an octave or two as he started walking closer to you, “I know your accounts are private.” 

“Well in that case I’ll-” 

You couldn’t finish your rant as Noah had closed the space between the two of you, and his lips pressed against yours. It caught you totally off guard, there felt like there were fireworks in your stomach as you kissed him back, nothing had ever felt so right before. 

His hands moved to your waist, as one of yours found the side of his neck, the other on his chest. Just as you thought he was going to deepen the kiss, maybe even slip his tongue in, he pulled away. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He confessed, smiling as he pressed his forehead against yours. "But we better get some sleep, we've got a lot of travelling coming up."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What the fuck, how did you forget to pack?!” Bryan raked his fingers through his hair as he stood by your bedroom door, watching you rush around to throw everything you needed into your suitcase. 

“Well, maybe because Noah only thought to mention the flight’s been changed when I went downstairs to get some water in the night? Could’ve been nice to let me know beforehand!” To say you were stressed was an understatement, you checked the drawers and closet to make sure you hadn't left any behind.

“Sorry, I should’ve told you when I found out, I just assumed Noah told you.” 

“Well you assumed wrong!” You sighed, sitting down on your unmade bed, “Sorry, Bry. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’ve never been so stressed before in my entire life, I hate flying and I’m kinda nervous to meet the other guys that are coming with us on tour.”

"There's nothing to worry about, y/n, I promise. The guys in Motionless are some of the nicest people I've ever met, you'll get along with them just fine, and the flight's not too long. Don't tell him I said this but Noah gets nervous when flying too, you guys can sit together and hyperventilate during turbulence together!"

"Bryan it's not funny! What if we crash, then who'll be laughing?!

“Sorry,” he laughed, “but seriously, you'll be fine. I’ll leave you to pack, y/n, I’m gonna see if the guys need any help downstairs if you need me.” 

“Okay, thanks Bry.” You smiled, shoving a pile of clothes that were sat on the floor into your suitcase as he left the room. 

It was only a matter of hours until you’d leave for the airport and there was so much whizzing around your brain. First was the kiss in the early hours of this morning, and then the fact that Noah said he’d been wanting to do it for a long time. You also feared you'd leave something important behind, and you worried about being on the plane- it was just all too much. You needed a distraction, but as you searched through your bags, you realised you'd left your vibrator at home. Just great!

In the meantime, you pushed all your thoughts to the back of your mind and focused on packing your equipment. You got your camera out yesterday and shot some pictures of Nick, Matt, Jolly and Noah by the pool which turned out pretty good.

The time seemed to fly by, and before you knew it you were saying goodbye to the room Noah had let you stay in. However, you’d be glad there would be no more late night trips to Noah’s room to use the bathroom.

There was one night in particular where you thought you could hear groaning from the other side of the door so you hesitated before knocking. He was silent for a moment before he called out to let you know you could come in. You couldn’t switch your brain off for the rest of the night, your mind going to the depths of hell as you thought about the man in the next room. However, after letting your hand slip under your panties, you finally switched off and after finishing, you were out for the night. 

“Everyone ready?” Matt shouted out as everyone was rushing about, making sure they weren’t forgetting anything. 

“Can someone help me?” You asked from the top of the stairs, trying to take both your suitcase and camera equipment down the stairs, along with your handbag, phone and coffee mug. 

“Course!” Folio smiled, coming up the stairs to help you, “Did we manage to get seats together on the plane this time?” He asked, shouting down the stairs to Matt, whose phone began to ring.  

“Folio, it’s your lucky day... We’re all sat together this time.” Matt said, before answering the phone. 

“What, were you guys sitting separately last time?” You asked as you followed Nick down the stairs. 

“Yeah, it was awful! I was sat next to some guy who wouldn’t stop sneezing and then I just so happened to be sick the entire tour, the guy Jolly was sat next to kept falling asleep on his shoulder-” 

“And the lady I was sat next to kept trying to set me up with her daughter.” Noah laughed, “But that’s not the worst of it, was it Nick?” 

“Huh?” Nicholas popped his head up, he was busy loading up the bus to travel to the airport. 

“Tell y/n about our last flight to Europe.” 

“I was sat next to this old lady who took one look at me and then naturally assumed I was the devil,” Ruffilo explained, and the others laughed. 

“But you’re an angel!” You frowned, “and that was to Europe?” 

“London,” Matt butted in, “a 10 hour flight and I was sitting next to a screaming baby. 10 hours, y/n. It had me reconsidering my whole life.” 

“Wow that must’ve been rough… hopefully it’s not like that this time.” 

“Nah, it’s only a 3 hour flight this time and we’re all sat together. There’s no way it can be any worse.” 

“We’re off to Texas, right?” You asked, and Noah nodded. 

“We play our first show there in three days, so we’ll land, get to our hotel and chill for a bit before we go to start setting everything up.” 

“Great.” You smiled, feeling all your nerves fade away into pure excitement. It was all starting to feel so real now.

Everyone started to get into the bus now, so you took one last look at Noah’s house before getting in with them. You sat in between the two Nicks, or as Noah called it a Nick sandwich. However, as Matt started driving away, Bryan called out,

“Matt, where are you going? We still have to pick up Jolly!” 

————————————

bad omens drama will never stop me from posting on tumblr dot com sorry guys you’re stuck with me!

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86

[awingedinsect]

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 5

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: description of drowning, de@th, kind of horror honestly, language, bl00d, cutting, bondage, crying, just the general craziness consume with caution!!

He’s sinking deeper, deeper than he knew he could go. The water burns his skin, freezing his muscles. He couldn’t swim if he tried.

There is no light at the top. No sign that the world is anything but pure, endless blackness. And it’s in this place, in the deepest part of hopelessness, that his eyes open.

His arms reach upwards, groping for the surface he’s not sure is real. But they’re jerked down almost immediately, wrapped in pieces of the deep that suck and coil around his wrists.

He flails violently as he’s dragged deeper still, cold water cutting into his arms like ice. He’s choked as whatever it is wraps around his neck, forcing him to look up at a chiding whisper of light. He yearns for it. He lunges for it.

But it’s not his to have.

“Shhh, Vessel.”

There’s a cold hand on his throat, nails raking slowly up his face to knot in his hair. “Calm down.”

His eyes shoot open, chest heaving like a scared rabbit as the scene floods in around him; the sky above, pitch black with the pale moon cutting through the trees to illuminate three figures. The backup singer is bowed over him, synching the knots tethering his ankles to the fallen tree. A shaky beam illuminates the face of the guitar player, bouncing off the pages of a book balanced in his hand as his mouth forms around silent words.

And then there’s Venus.

Vessel’s throat knots as he looks up at her, eyes searching her face for a sign that he isn’t about to die.

“What are you doing to me?” He asks with a wet, wobbly voice. His lungs are still full of the Atlantic.

“Something I have to do.” She says, swiping her thumb beneath his lashes. She’s bending over him, her eyes illuminated with a light of their own as the moon cuts around her form. “You’re the last piece of a puzzle, and I’m sorry I gotta do this to ya.”

Vessel's head is swimming, and he knows it’s still full of whatever the girl slipped into his drink. But for the first time in a while, he doesn’t question if this is a dream. He knows this is something too much like his vision; something his mind was preparing him for. And yet he fights it, groaning as he strains against the bonds on his wrists keeping his arms outstretched across the ancient branches.

A finger presses his snarling lips, silencing him. “Stop.”

Her nail traces the line of his mouth, pressing a mark into his lower lip until the tiniest trickle of blood slips inside his mouth. He groans again, this time in surrender.

He’s helpless anyway.

“I call upon Sleep,” comes a voice down by his feet. Vessel cranes his neck to watch the guitar player, swiping his dreadlocks out of his face with the end of his flashlight. His eyes skirt reverently over the worn pages of the book as the other member rises and faces the moon.

“…To enter this place, now.”

“What the fuck?” Vessel bites, sputtering on the blood trickling into his mouth. The blackness seeps into the gaps of his teeth as they grit up at Venus. “What the fuck do you people serve?”

“Worship, baby.” She corrects. And suddenly there’s a knife in her hands, climbing up against his pale neck as it bobs. “We worship Sleep. And in turn, they’re gonna make us the biggest sensation the world has ever seen. Bigger than you’ve ever dreamed of, sitting there in your little room, all alone with that keyboard…”

The blade nips at the neck of his hoodie, popping the threads apart delicately until there’s a sizable slash cutting down the front. She starts to drag deeper, nicking his heaving chest as she goes while he shakes and hisses, trying to level his breathing. He can’t take this. He can’t take this.

The torn fabric finally falls down his sides to reveal his broad chest and lean torso, now decorated with a thin line spreading its veins in the dips of his stomach. And suddenly she straddles, snake bites and teeth glimmering as she plants a hand on his shoulder and the knife at his neck.

“Sleep feeds on the music.” She whispers, bending low. “And you, pretty baby, are an offering.”

He’s sobbing now. There’s not much else he can do, besides beg for his life. And the attempts he makes tumble like meaningless stones off his trembling lips. His eyes are wide, but he doesn’t see anything. The night is cold, but his exposed flesh feels dead and foreign. He’s empty. But there’s something else, something stronger than him. And he can feel it in his mouth.

“Be careful.” He rumbles, eyes slipping shut. “Or you’re going to die.”

There’s a spark of fear in Venus’s eyes. Something she can’t hide, no matter how powerful she looks on top of him, the knife clasped tight in her fist.

She smiles.

“We’re gonna do this ritual.” She tells him, her voice steady. “And once you’re dead, we’re gonna burn your body over on that pile of rubble, and bury you with the rest of them. You know, they wouldn’t even be dead if you had just stayed put. Just stayed there with me like a good bitch while I got my hands around your neck.”

The wind is picking up. The voice of the guitarist rises, filling the forest with a language that sounds older than even the trees. Vessel arches off the bark cutting into his spine, a scream rising in his throat as the blade carves into his chest.

“Something tells me you’d like it, anyway.” She hums, eyes trailing the blood as it wells in the hollow of his neck. “But this time… I’m gonna make you sing first.”

Suddenly the wind becomes a hurricane and the forest goes black. Not even the moon can watch as everything that’s real is whipped up in a sea of leaves and screams, Vessel paralyzed as even his own crying is sucked from his lips. His mouth fills with something horrid and flaky, flooding his nose with smoke and choking him as he tries to scramble free in the chaos.

There’s ash in his mouth.

He feels manicured fingers claw into his chest as they’re dragged away, his hips free of the girl’s weight. And then it happens; a magnificent blaze of red, flooding the skeletal trees with a light too bright to look at.

And then, just as quick as it came, it’s gone.

Vessel’s body trembles uncontrollably as he picks up his head, blinking the ash out of his eyes. He’s alone, except for the wind and the plumes of black flakes twisting all around him. It’s not just what’s left of the trees- it’s the Blacklit Room, and his clothes, and owners of the screams still dying out in the roar.

“You are mine.” Comes a voice from the nothingness, bringing Vessel to his hands and knees as he falls off the tree. The bonds have flaked off his wrists, leaving only stripes where the ash hasn’t painted him black.

“And you will not be like them. I have chosen you, lost thing. And I will raise you in the dark.”

Vessel claws at the ground, trying to find a singular piece of himself to raise up and give to his savior. But there’s nothing. And all he can do is wrap his trembling arms around himself, head bowed as his hands spider across his own bloody ribs. He reaches for the voice weakly.

“Did you kill them?” He asks quietly, finding his vision difficult to maintain. He closes his mouth, lips thin and smudged black, though barely trembling now. There’s a home he lost in the voice- in the dark. And he just now remembers it.

“We killed them.” The darkness whispers. “I, Sleep, and you, my Vessel.”

He nods drunkenly, his chest spilling a few more sobs. Yes. He killed them.

“I will give you what they wanted. Fame. Adoration. Protection. And in turn, you will be my voice.”

“Your voice?” Vessel asks, looking up. The wind is dying now, debris settling thick on the ground. The moon is starting the glare down at him again, interested to watch as a weak, unshielded human fumbles forward for shelter in a god who appears to him in the silence of the hillside.

There is no reply. And so, there are no more questions he needs to ask. The forest goes quiet again.

Vessel stumbles to his feet, looking around half-blind and trying to gather his breath back into his lungs. He feels strangely fine, though the euphoria of the moment is fading a little faster than he can take it.

A car zooms by on the nearby road and he startles, trying to remember for a minute where the fuck he his and why the fuck he just pledged his allegiance to a diety he’s never even heard of before.

He’s always been an atheist, up till now. Or at least within the last decade of his life. But then again, he’s always been a regular man, with one bed or another to lie on, a love for music, the need to pay his bills… not a nearly-sacrificed shell of a person, stumbling naked around the woods covered in ash and blood without anywhere to go. He feels hollow. And now that the adrenaline is fading, he notices the drugs starting to drag his mind back to a place he’s too helpless to be alone in.

He’s weaker than he’s ever been, leaning on trees and leaving a trail of sticky black drops on the leaves behind him. He’s lost more blood than he knows. And yet he goes on, straight into the woods without direction or purpose until he finds a gravel path crunching under his bare feet.

He follows it. And to wherever or whoever it leads, he hopes there’s a damn drink of water.

[sounknownvoid]

sam is afraid of lucifer - but not just for reasons we think

this is another spn random too late at night that occurred to me today: sam is afraid of lucifer - d-uh! : sam has seen lucifers true face, hes tortured him in hell for 180 years, manipulated him his entire life in order to posess him etc,etc.... so yeah d-uh ofc hes scared!.... but theres this horrifying thought thats occurred to me just falling asleep (yeh apparently in that fuzzy place before sleep i head towards spn - ah spn is my true love!)... those might not be the only reasons...

If anyone been in a toxic relationship or abusive situation or coercive situation they might have a better insight - the thing about being in those situations is - you *know* how bad that person is, you *know* how abusive they are, you *know* they're toxic to you and for you and you should not be there...but you know what the most evil,degrading absolute horror of a situation like that is? - being convinced, against your better judgement, your logic to stay - having your own "goodness" turned against you to manipulate you into staying - your compassion and heart and empathy being turned against you into staying - so they can abuse you more, with your seeming "consent" - making you an accomplice in your own murder n rape.... and making you a contemptible, pathetic person in your own eyes cos its making you complicit in your own violations - of your body,mind, heart and spirit... the devil is not evil for what he does to you - its because of what he gets you to do, to yourself, fully aware - the slippery rope, the seduction into it...

Even if you do survive - you will never again trust your own judgement or have faith in yourself or any self-worth or confidence ...let alone heal, help others and have compassion and retain empathy for others...

Now multiply this by a 100, a 1000...coz what i described was a human domestic abuse situation - can you imagine what lucifer could have done to sam?.... no, its not the rapes and the tortures and the hooks and eye-gouging....what samd be afraid of lucifer for the most was how easy itd be for sam to slip back into that mode of being "lucifers b*ch" all while thinking ge deserves it . ... its the "conditioning" of sam that lucifer is capable of/has shown/has done to sam that sam has to fight against every single day....

all leading to even more feelings of self-doubt, worthlessness,insecurity,self-loathing "unclean"-ness.... ie, its what sam becomes when in proximity to lucifer that hed be afraid of most i reckon...

And the thing that gets me absolutely frothing at the mouth about spn-writers, is - sam is repeatedly having to confront and rebuild himself as lucifer is brought back over n over again right in sams face... the absolute exhaustion on having to dig himself out of that headspace all over again - all while terrified that maybe this time, he cant dig himself out, maybe this time he just. Cant. ... leaving sam to think maybe he really didnt make it out of hell after all...

(& yet sammy does have that strength to rebuild himself and even has enough compassion left over to help nick and lucifers kid - my absolute fucken king sammy!)

[talesandasksfromthewvba]

Ah hey look! It’s the Bruiser brothers themselves, Rick and Nick!

And, we just so happen to have an origin story for them! Just what are these two hiding from us anyway?

Read below to find out!

((Keep in mind that this is sort of a weird one, but hopefully you’ll get used to it 😭. Also CW for body horror imagery)) -Dex

Ok so, you know that we basically don’t know how old nor where the Bruiser brothers are from right? Why is this such a mystery? It’s been bothering me for years now...

Well I have a proposition... now here me out.... they were created in a lab.

So there were these group of scientist that decided to come together to create the perfect fighter. Through some agreements, they collected DNA samples from all kinds of boxers that were considered the best of the best: the most lean, tall, strong etc.

It took some years to figure out, but they managed to make their first prototype: Rick Bruiser.

The scientist first helped out Rick by teaching him with basic life skills (you know, like talking, eating etc). When he mastered them, they immediately put the gloves on him to start training. The results and analytics were showing up with “alright” scores, but not what the group was looking for. Also not to mention, Rick started to develop his own charming personality, which the scientist were pleased and quite proud of as it makes him more human like, but they also thought that this was hindering his fighting style (for some reason).

So by taking Rick’s DNA and changing up some formations, they made a second version of Rick, and by technicality his brother, Rick Brusier.

Nick was more emotionally detached than Rick, which was done on purpose. As they went through the same learning process with Nick, they tested out his fighting expertise. The testers were much more pleased with Nick’s outcome and decided to focus their testing and work on him, leaving Rick in the dust almost. He sort of grew jealous due to this, but still wanted to at least work out a brotherly bond with his new kin.

As time passed, they applied Nick to all kinds of boxing matches. From left to right, he about won just about every match he was in. It was almost non-stop fighting and match-ups. Due to this however, Nick started to feel a bit... off. But he never reported it nor brought it up because he really didn’t want to mess up his streak.

Then the time came for Nick to work his way up in the W.V.B.A. to get that champion belt. Nick’s first opponent was obviously the glass jaw himself: Glass Joe.

The poor Frenchman thought that this was just another match where he gets horribly beat up by yet another big and burly boxer. So the match starts with a ding, and goes off smoothly at first. Nick is quite the excellent fighter and Joe knows this. But something was about to happen that would shock everyone and the world of boxing in general.

Lots of dodging and punching, the first being done by Nick and Joe unfortunately getting the latter. “Whatever.” He thought to himself. “Let’s get this over with.”.

Keep in mind that this is around the time when Joe was starting to get one of the worse records in W.V.B.A history, so he was a laughing stock to the crowd. And to be honest, most people buy tickets to Glass Joe’s fights now just to see his face get beat in. It’s basically like a sick comedy to them.

But with this in mind, Maybe he can perhaps get at least one punch in? This could not only catch the audience off guard, but also he can at least get some kind of good press for this effort. It’ll at least be a good coffee read in the morning, so why not?

So with a lot of focus and managing to get a split second opening, Joe did the best punch he could.

A big old “POW” if you will.

This catches Nick off guard as well as the crowd. After a few moments of silent the crowd starts to cheer. Joe starts to feel a kick of euphoria in his body after what just happened. He felt like could do it again!

Nick however, after the punch, starts to get that same off feeling from before, but it was more noticeable. His arm... also felt weird. But he brushed it off and continues to fight.

More back and forth arm swinging happens and Joe gets yet another punch in as Nick blocks it. Yet another “POW” could be heard from the impact. The crowd starts to get louder with cheers and jeers going everywhere. But after a few seconds, something oh so horrible happens that will stay in the minds of whoever was attending that faithful night.

Nick’s arm starts to fall apart.

Gasps and screams started to erupt from the stadium. Joe quickly back off after realizing what in the world was happening. He couldn’t believe what was happening in front of him. All he could do his cover his mouth and stare in shock at the absolute horror show he was witnessing.

Nick didn’t even know what to do. What the hell was happening to him? Why didn’t those damn blockheads tell him about this?

The rotting started to get worse as his whole arm was basically gone. It started to now slowly go up his neck and that’s when Nick basically “passed” out. The doctors and ref started rush over Nick Bruiser to try and get him to a hospital. The crowd was trying to get up close to the ring to see the freak accident they just witnessed.

But by default, Joe won the match. His first win. This should be an exciting moment for him, but he’s too distracted and also felt such a painful guilt in his stomach. He probably thought he killed the man. Nobody would survive such a horrible incident like that! He felt like he was about to puke...

This was a dark chapter in the W.V.B.A history books.

This incident was in the year 1985

Weeks have passed since the incident, and Nick wakes up in a bed with a brand new arm attached to his arm. Stitched up of course. Unfortunately, this meant that he also remembered what happened to him that night. Nick didn’t know if he should be grateful that he’s still here, or if he should be mad now that his perfect record is down the drain. “What an embarrassing way to go out” he said in his head. This is what he’s going to be remembered by. The one guy that had his damn arm fall apart.

Great.

However, Rick was so happy that his brother was alive! He watched the match from the tv back in the lab, and was absolutely terrified with what happened. Poor Rick really thought Nick was dead, but who could blame him? He waited oh so patiently for the progress on Nick’s rebuilding.

Nick couldn’t help but feel a bit touched by this. He never felt this way before.

One of the scientist then explained to the still confused Nick that apparently his body was starting to weaken with all the excessive fighting they put him through and that it went completely off their radar. So during the last fight with Glass Joe, his body completely gave up on him. Literally. But after a few alterations to his body along side stitching up his new arm, something like this should never happen again. Hopefully.

Well that explains a lot.

They all decided that they should stay off of boxing for awhile just in case something like this ever happens again. So both Rick and Nick just simply hung around the lab for awhile and used the opportunity to do some catching up.

During this they mainly were assistants for the workers in the lab and did various activities as well.

Time passes by and by unanimous decision, the lab decides to let Rick and Nick Bruiser go to the outside world for themselves. With all the knowledge they learned, they thought that they’re perfectly ready to have their own social lives.

The lab provided them with everything they need. Fake birth certificates, new IDs, social security, lots of money, clothes, and a little apartment they can start off with. The lab will of course will keep them in close contact just in case something haywire happens.

Finally, the brothers can be a part of society.

They started to get use to the average living life. They lived together in the apartment that they were provided with and made do with it. Rick wanted to do more stuff unlike Nick, who was more introverted. But hey siblings will be siblings am I right? Nick was still self conscious about going out because someone might recognize him as that one boxer that... yeah... so even when he does go out, he’s covering his face up with a hoodie.

The year is 1990 and the W.V.B.A. is taking in new and fresh boxers for their second branch that they just established.

Rick saw an advertisement for this and jumped at the opportunity to join. For all of his (short) life, Rick wanted to fight in the ring. But because he was seen as a simple prototype and how Nick got WAY more of the attention, he felt ignored. So this was finally the opportunity for him to possibly join the association. Rick doesn’t care if he doesn’t end up being that great, he just wants to fight his heart out.

Nick took notice of this. At first he thought “Yeah, right. Like I’m going back there.”. But when he really started to contemplate, this could be possible redemption. No longer does he have to hide in the shadows of his past, he can show the country— no, the world that he’s not the same anymore.

That was the old Nick. He’s the new Nick now.

When he told his brother that he’ll join and possibly even try for the belt, pure ecstasy bursted out of Rick. Finally, he and his brother can take on the world and have it in their hands together.

After all, they are The Bruiser Brothers.

[mac-lilly]

JATP fic ideas that live rent-free in my head

A compilation post to keep track of all the jatp stories that I will never write ...

Stuff I've actually written

Juke:

Juke Kitchen

Alone Together

Strumming the Soul

Beautiful

Heartbeat

Willex:

Hotdog and Cold dog

Cross my heart and hope to die (again)

A night to remember:

Just one more night (Luke)

Tomorrow (Reggie)

Ghostwriter:

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Hamster!Luke

Doodle

Canon-Compliant (kinda)

The inevitabilities of (after)life

(Boys coming back to life but without memories - Juke)

After their performance at The Orpheum, the guys suddenly start seeing a magical light, and they figure it's time to cross over. Before they leave, however, Julie and Luke accidentally seal a magical pact with unfathomable consequences. (And they kiss.) And then the boys are gone.

However, a year later, just after coming to terms with the guys' departure, Julie's world is turned upside-down (again) when a very alive Luke suddenly reenters her life. And it's not just him -- Alex and Reggie are back too. But to Julie's horror and agony, all three have lost their memories. (And not just them. With the exception of Bobby, nobody remembers them.)

And so, Julie has to make a decision: Fight to unseal their memories or let them live their new-found lives without her?

It's an easy choice, really. Plus, she has to make her resurrected Phantoms stay alive. Because there's a series of uncanny and nearly fatal accidents that always involve her boys and, weirdly, Nick.

(There are 1.75 chapters of this on my PC.)

Ghost license

(inspired by the movie "Hui Buh" - no focus on romance)

The boys get tasked to obtain a ghost license for the Molina house. Otherwise, they have to leave the place and become wayward ghosts (and have to return to Caleb.) And thus, the Phantoms are forced to attend a school for ghosts -- exams included.

Random character stuff:

Julie's doodling

Luke's room

AUs

Songwriting Journal of Fate

(A Kimi no Na Wa AU - Juke)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Show me how to be whole again

An arranged marriage/enemies-to-reluctant-allies-to-friends-to-lovers Juke AU

Plot

BAM! I'm actually writing this one.

AO3 Link

Image Board

Sweet Home Alabama AU

Yet another enemies-to-friends-to-almost-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends&lovers Juke AU.

Teaser

First & Last Scene

"Life with Derek"-inspired AU

Teaser/Prologue

Rivers of London AU

Julie, a witch in training, and Luke, a ghost

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Phantom Thieves

(A Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne AU (without the religious stuff) - Juke)

Julie makes a deal with Caleb: She helps him collect/steal possessed artifacts, and in exchange, he'll grant her a chance to talk to her mom again.

At first, it goes pretty well. She steals the objects and hands them over to Caleb. But soon, she gets a rival. Another thief shows up, who is way too cheeky and attractive, and he starts snatching those items Julie is supposed to steal from under her nose. Julie is not amused by his attitude, and Caleb tells her that he probably wants to use these magical items for evil.

At the same time, Julie makes acquaintance with three guys who just transferred to her school, and she may or may not develop a crush on one of them. (And Julie can't help but see certain similarities between Luke and her new-found thievish rival ... but surely that's just a coincidence, right?)

Mind the Gap

(A Neverwhere AU - Willex & (minor) Juke)

Alex lives a pretty normal life. Sure, after he came out to his parents, he's become an outcast. But he's willing to put up with this shit anyway. (What are the alternatives?)

Then he encounters Willie, an extremely weird but also handsome guy who tells him that he is being hunted. Confused, Alex helps him hide. The next day, Willie is gone, and suddenly his life seems to vanish. His parents, his peers -- everyone seems to forget that he exists.

Determined to set things right, Alex sets out to find Willie, hoping that he (or the person he's running away from) has the power to give him his life back. He enters the World Below -- the place where all the people who've all fallen through the cracks stand. However, as he keeps gathering a group of unlikely and way too cheerful acquaintances who quickly become his friends (and more), he starts questioning his desire to return to the normal world.

[nicholasbutmagical]

want alcohol :( this is a need I'm TIRED. need vodka,,,,, or a hot toddy or SOMTHINE.

[crookshanks23]

What a fun episode. Definitely way more light-hearted and lots of good jokes and goofs.

I am a bit concerned with how lighthearted it felt, though. I know they can't dwell on Terry Jr. forever, and there was essentially a ticking clock with the last anchor broken, but it felt too fast to me.

As for the content of the episode, all of the character interactions were great. And boy, did Taylor take charge this episode. You go anime ranger teen!

All of the stuff with Mayor McSnarkles was wonderfully creepy. She's one of my favorite NPCs. I miss some of the creepy, body horror stuff from earlier in the season.

And then the whole "fight" with Willy was full of great character stuff too. He is such a piece of shit - the whole turn with Taylor's mom just blew my mind.

The episode ends on a pretty big cliffhanger, and I definitely have some questions that I hope get answered: did cutting off their fingers officially break Willy and Cassandra's connection? It seemed like it because she didn't take further damage from Normal, but also didn't feel fully resolved. Is Cassandra gonna let Nick in? What is everyone, especially Willy, gonna do now that the Doodler has possessed Scary?

As I mentioned in my last post, I didn't think we were hurtling towards the Doodler this quickly, because this feels like the endgame. But maybe it's not. Maybe the Doodler is about to give them all some directions or other mini quest next time to keep the season going. And then again, maybe not.

I just know that I'm looking for some catharsis with the character arcs and it doesn't feel like we're there yet. Here's to looking forward to the next one as we discover this together.

[astragreenwoode]

The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Five

Previous: Chapter Four • Next: Chapter Six • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (Only Mentioned)

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slice of Life, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

As always, thank you @take-everything-you-can for your beta reading and all your feedback!

Chapter Five: A New Found Feeling I Did Not Understand

Word Count: 11,151

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Anxiety, Self-Deprecating & Violent Thoughts, References to Murder and other Criminal Activities, Drug Use, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mental Illness, Hypersexuality

Chapter Summary: Maeven remembers the first time her mother and sister caught her doing drugs, as well as the reason she started in the first place. After her meeting with the Chief of Hawkins, her mom drags her and Max to the general store for some last-minute shopping. While there, she meets a single mother who offers her a gig that could help her find her place in her new home. Maybe she had more friends in Hawkins than she initially thought.

Relationships: Maeven and Joyce Byers • Maeven, Max and Susan Mayfield • Maeven and Billy(Mentioned) • Susan and Neil

February 1984

It had been two weeks since I shot up from my bed in a cold sweat after dreaming about the brutality that followed Melody Chandler’s New Year’s Eve party. Two weeks since I frantically ran to my mom’s craft room to swipe her sewing shears before running out the back door to the fire pit on the grass. Two weeks since the voice in my head convinced me to cut off all my hair to keep what happened to me from happening again.

“You don’t need it anymore. It’s only going to hold you back and get you hurt,” it told me. “Cut it off! Burn it! You need to get away from it!”

After being homebound on doctor’s orders after my release from the hospital, I was finally going back to classes at Newport High following my last weekend as an in-home patient. My injuries and fragile state of mind kept me home for six weeks. It was still painful to walk or think too hard. I wasn’t looking forward to returning. Perhaps it was my subconscious reacting to my return that made me do it.

My hair was no longer an extension of my soul. Feeling it against my neck and back now made me shiver. It was going to tangle around my body and strangle me to death if I didn’t do something. I had to cut it off. They made me do it.

In my hysterical haste to cut it away from me, my mom’s sewing shears nicked my cheeks, ears, and the back of my neck. I ran to the shed to get the matches and lighter fluid and set the pile of my sheared locks on the fire pit to set it aflame. I couldn’t wait any longer to watch it burn. I didn’t need it anymore, like an animal shedding its fur for the new season. Just like that, it was as if all my troubles and burdens disappeared the moment the match ignited the flames.

During the entire process, I was sobbing my eyes out. It was surprising how neither Mom nor Max came out to check on me. Mom told her it was sometimes best to just let me cry it out, like a baby who didn’t know any better. But they didn’t think I would ever go this far. And only when I watched it all burn in the fire pit did I feel a strange sense of relief, and my sobbing turned into hysterical laughter. It was only then that Mom and Max came outside to put out the fire of my own making. Mom barely looked at me afterward.

She barely acknowledged me when she came to pick me up from the principal’s office after getting in yet more fights or talking back and losing my shit at the staff. If she knew about me lying and sneaking out to go to parties and drown myself in sex and drugs, she never said anything about it. She rarely even noticed when I walked in a room, anymore. 

It was bad enough that everyone at school apart from my closest friends avoided me like the plague. Mom hardly baring to look at me was the icing on the cake. Even when she did, she looked heartbroken, like I wasn’t even her daughter, anymore. Looking me in the eye for too long was too painful for her.

But even when she finally did pay attention to me, it wasn’t pleasant.

One night, I woke up from yet another nightmare that I was an animal being ripped apart and turned into taxidermy. Max was asleep and Mom was out on a date night with Neil. I thought about calling my Dad, but I didn’t want to be a burden and wake him up. He had been working so hard, lately. Earlier in the evening, Billy fucked me in his Camaro until nothing hurt in my heart or head, anymore. I couldn’t wake him up after demanding orgasm after orgasm from him before.

I opened the window of my bedroom next to my bed to get some fresh air before reaching for the little door handle of my side table. I pulled out this beautifully psychedelic bong Madison made me at her cousin’s glass studio as a get-well gift. Nutmeg trotted into my room and sat next to me on the edge of my bed as I lit up the bowl and inhaled. I leaned against the window and breathed out, keeping the smoke away from her as I exhaled all the pain and fear. The tips of my fingers and toes tingled as all the tenseness left my limbs and I regained control. 

Instinctively, I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged myself as Nutmeg attempted to squeeze herself into my lap. Her fur tickled my face as I fell back on my bed and pulled her up to my chest. She looked at me with her wide blue eyes before letting out a tiny squeak and pressing her face against mine. I let out a soft laugh as she sat on my tummy and started to scratch behind her ear with her hind leg.

“Need help with that, Nuts?” I playfully asked, reaching my hands up to scratch behind her ears. Her eyes widened before closing again as she nuzzled her face into my palm and let out one of her long and comforting purs that never ceased to warm my soul. When she opened her eyes and softly mewed again, I found myself wondering what was going on inside her head behind those big blue orbs. My fingers traced her face and the outline of her skull, feeling all the dents and dips in her bone.

“It would be so easy to just crush her body in your hands right now, wouldn’t it?” The voice barked at me, making my muscles tense as my heart threatened to stop out of fear. “Then maybe you could take a real look and figure out what’s going on inside her. She’d probably let you do it, too. She trusts you. Go on. Do it.”

“No! Get away!” I begged aloud, slapping myself across the face as if I could scare away whatever devious thing lived inside my head. Nutmeg yowled as she scattered off my lap and onto the other side of my bed. I frantically sat up as my breathing became more erratic. The voice was gone. . .for now. But they would come back. They always did.

I’ve been hearing this voice inside me ever since I was a little girl. It wasn’t always so malicious and violent. They could tell me to do good or fun things. They told me to be cautious and calm down. It brought me this newfound feeling I did not understand, which grew and manifested in my soul; I wished I wasn’t fully human, anymore. 

I wished I could turn into a beast of some kind and wreak havoc upon the world and the people who wished me harm. That’s probably what happened on New Year’s Eve; I was too tired of being hurt and so angry that I unleashed all my rage upon those boys. And though that instinct saved my life, it also scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Hidden beneath that little girl who loved rainbows and all things wild, was I secretly a bad person? I didn’t want to have hate in my heart. It made me feel ugly.

Nutmeg’s sudden meows as she rubbed up against my arm brought me out of my anxiety-induced trance and helped my heartbeat slow down to a calmer rate. I pulled her into my lap and hugged her in my arms like a baby as I inhaled her familiar, homely scent.

“I’m sorry, Meg. I’m so sorry,” I told her. I didn’t know why, but I felt like she could sense my innermost thoughts and feelings. And that meant she could see the dark thoughts that invaded my head. “I’d never hurt you, baby. I promise,” I whispered as I kissed her cheek.

Setting her back down on the bed, she curled up into a fluffy ginger circle on top of my pillow. As I leaned against the window and lit up the bowl of my bong again, I inhaled again.

“Margaret Maeven Mayfield! What do you think you’re doing!?”

My heart stopped as my eyes widened, and I started choking on the smoke of my bong as I turned around, mentally preparing for another one of Susan Mayfield’s world-famous lectures. She stood in the doorway to my room with her hands on her hips and a wide stance in her high heels. It looked like she was trying to stand like a wonder-woman action figure, and I couldn’t help but laugh in my high state.

“I think that’s pretty obvious, Susan. You’d have to be blind not to figure this out. Are you blind?” I laughed again.

“This stops right now!” She heavily stomped her way over to me and reached for my bong on my lap. I held it away from her in my arms like I was teasing her on the playground. As I leaned back on my bed to get further away from her, Nutmeg jumped into my lap and hissed at my Mom, causing her to stand back in shock as my little fluffy guardian upsettingly trilled.

“What the hell is going on?” Max mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she stood in the doorway.

“Max, go back to your room!” Mom all but shouted to her. Max’s eyes widened, now fully awake, and darted to the bong in my hands.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,” I said, sitting up to wrap my arms around it in a pathetic attempt to hide it. I may have been a shitty daughter, but I’ll be damned if I expose my baby sister to drugs the same way our parents did to us, even if it was just weed.

“Something that is absolutely not allowed in this house!” Mom shouted at me, trying to wrestle the bong out of my arms again. I leaned back and kept her at bay with my feet on her stomach. Nutmeg swiping her paw at her finally made her give up. She put her face in both hands and frustratingly groaned into them as she shook her head.

 “Mae-Mae, what were you thinking!? What is wrong with you!?” It was a question I had been asked so many times in my life, by teachers, other kids, and strangers. I could handle it. I was used to it, by now. But it always hurts the most when it comes from her.

“Everything, apparently. No matter what I do, nothing changes,” I answered. Her face dropped and her tone changed. Despite her constant nagging and annoying talks, she had been more gentle with me these last couple of months while I recovered. But seeing her switch between moods wasn’t anything new.

“I have been pretty forgiving of what you’ve been doing lately after. . .what happened. But that does not mean you can just get high in the middle of the night while your sister and I are just down the hall.”

“When else would I do it?” I asked, rolling my eyes. At least I had the decency to hide it. When she was going through her rough patch, she never tried to conceal her addiction from us. She flaunted it around us like some kind of medal.

“Maeven, you are seventeen years old. You cannot be doing this at all,” she lectured me, using her hands to emphasize and annunciate like always

“Why? Why does it matter so fucking much to you, Mom? It shouldn’t. It doesn’t. Nothing does,” I sneered back at her. It’s not like she was never seventeen, herself.

“So, what? Nothing matters? Is that what you’re saying?” Her stern and annoyed tone had returned. This time, Max answered before I had the chance.

“Not really. Even if we so much as breathe in your general direction, you get mad at us,” she sleepily groaned, leaning against my door frame.

“Max. Stay out of this. This doesn’t concern you,”

“Like Hell, it doesn't!” my sister suddenly fumed.

“Language!” Mom boomed. I held in a laugh and almost choked on it before it could escape my mouth. As far as cursing goes, that was the mildest word. And here my mom was reacting like Max just called her the ‘C word.’

“She’s my sister, Mom! I’m a part of this family, too, y’know!” The way she phrased it, laced with so much pain, threatened to break my heart. I could tell it had already broken Mom.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. Max rolled her eyes. For someone who was once smart enough to be a nurse, she was still clueless.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. And even if you aren’t taking care of Maevey or out with Neil, all you do is yell at me!”

“I do not always yell at you!”

“Yeah. You’re not really making the best case for yourself there, Susan,” I interrupted. Something that had been present all my life, but I was just starting to notice, was how the women in this family had the tendency to rapidly switch between moods. I’m not sure if was something Mom passed down to us, or something we picked up over the years of witnessing it in her. Either way, we seemed to bring out both the best and worst of each other.

She turned to me, her finger pointing inches away from my face.

“Don’t call me that! I am your mother, and you will address me as such!” she demanded. I flinched for a moment, rubbing my hand across my face to wipe off her spit.

“Still proving her point, Mom,” I pointed out to her.

At this point, Mom was physically shaking and visibly seething, like a volcano threatening to erupt. Not wanting to prove us right, she didn’t say a word for about thirty seconds in order to regain her composure. I pictured her as the Yellowstone Caldera boiling and then suddenly simmering.

“Girls, listen. I don’t want to be mad at either of you, okay? I really don’t, but. . .you’re both making it really hard not to. You need to help me out here. Can you just try to do the right thing and stay out of trouble!?”

Max got in trouble sometimes for saying a swear word in class, or maybe even a misunderstanding with another kid. Every once in a while, she would hit someone who completely deserved it. I was worse, for obvious reasons, and it had only gotten worse, lately. Mom was embarrassed; she was ashamed of us. We were her daughters; a reflection of her as a parent and a person, whether we liked it or not. And while she did indeed try her best to raise us to be good, we also had her biggest flaws.

“That doesn’t mean you can just ignore her! I’m just smoking weed! It’s natural and besides, It’s not like you’ve never done it before!”

“What? What’re you talking about?” Mom’s eyes darted from side to side, avoiding eye contact with me as she continued to play dumb.

“I’ve seen your secret stash of cigarettes in the laundry room. I’ve known about it for three years, now,” I reminded her. 

One day when I was fourteen, it was my turn to do the laundry that week. It was also where Nutmeg’s scratching post and Bullet and Lucy’s beds were. Nutmeg decided to climb up on the top storage shelf above the washer and dryer and meow at me to come and bring her down. When I climbed up to reach her, she kicked a small keepsake box from the corner. 

When it fell on the linoleum, it was filled with Marlboro Red 100s and a couple of lighters, and Mom’s old driver’s license. She looked so different in it than I was used to; happier, less haunted. It crossed my mind more than once that Nutmeg knew it was there and wanted me to see it. I knew it was ridiculous. I put everything back in its place and never spoke about it. But I never looked at my Mom the same way, again.

“Are you really judging me right now? You?” she laughed at me, seizing her opportunity to finally snatch the bong from my hands and swipe my lighter from my table. But I didn’t fight her this time. As she stomped toward my door, Max moved out of her way to sit on the edge of my bed.“You’re going to get addicted and when you do, you’ll be sorry! I should know. I’ve been there, and I don’t want you to go down that path,”

I rolled my eyes and put my head in my hands. Did she really think me smoking weed for my anxiety was comparable to the drinking problem she had been struggling with on-and-off her entire life?

Max stood up and walked closer to Mom.

“That’s not the same thing and you know it. You had to stop drinking ‘cause you were a danger to us and to Dad,” she grunted. I quickly stood up in front of her and put my arm in front of her. Even if she was right, this was my fight with Mom. She shouldn’t have to stand up for me against our mother. That was my job; I was the big sister.

“While you’re poisoning your lungs with nicotine, I’m smoking a fucking plant, Mom! We’re not the same!”

“Well, y’know what, girls!?” Mom thundered, laughter, pain, and anger weaved through her voice. “You’re right. I do smoke cigarettes! I do drink, and I’m not ashamed of it. You wanna know why? Because I’m an adult. I do what I want.” “So you just get to do whatever the fuck you want?”

“Yes, Max. I do,” she said, quiet this time as she took my lighter and lit up the bowl of the bong. Was she really about to do what I think?

“And when you two grow up, . .” she continued, inhaling the smoke before coughing out her last words straight into my face. “. . .you can do whatever you want, too.”

For the first time in my life, I was speechless as she looked at me with tears filling up in her now-red eyes. I was surprised she even knew how to use it. I wondered if I possibly looked like her when I smoked weed. I hoped not. She looked pathetic trying to be tough and prove her point.

“Yeah. Nice one, Mom. You’re really earning that ‘mother of the year’ trophy,” I to her. She narrowed her eyes at me. I should’ve known she wasn’t done.

“But until then, you are kids. You’re my children. And if I were you two, I’d hold onto it for as long as I can, okay? Because once you grow up, I’m not gonna always be around to protect and guide you girls. Once you grow up, you’re both going to have to go through and deal with some pretty shitty stuff.”

I knew our Mom didn’t have the easiest life growing up. Her older brother died when she was fourteen; she never said how. Her mother disappeared for a while, which she never talked about either. She jumped through so many hoops to put herself through medical school and be taken seriously as a Medical Professional, not just a woman. She lost her baby brother to HIV just a few years ago. I’m not denying that her life was hard, but how dare she try to turn pain and suffering into a competition after everything that we’ve been through? What Max has been through with her family falling apart? What I’ve been through in just these last few months? How dare she?

“Like we haven’t already?”

As soon as I said that, her demeanor suddenly changed as she reached out for me; as if she hadn’t just said all those cruel things to me, to my sister. She got what she wanted; she won the argument. Wasn’t that all that mattered to her, after all?

“Oh, Mae-Mae, I didn’t mean-”

“Goodnight, Mom,” I plainly said, crawling into bed as if she wasn’t even there. Nutmeg curled up at my feet. It was quiet for a while, and even if I couldn’t see it, I knew Max was staring daggers into Mom, just as pissed as I was.

“Max, I-”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” she said, closing the door without another word before climbing into bed with me. In the now pitch blackness, I rolled over to face her as we rested our arms across each other. Nutmeg moved up from my feet to fit snuggly in the gap between us. We both gave her soft pets before returning our hands back to their original snuggling position. I left her with one last word of wisdom before we shut our eyes to sleep.

“Max, I know I’m not the best role model, but if I ever catch you with weed before you’re eighteen, I’ll kill you.”

She only let out a soft laugh.

. . .

Maeven’s left arm leaned out the window of the family station wagon as she let the cold, autumn wind blow against her hand and between her fingers. The other held her backpack securely in her lap as she squished against the bottom to squeeze Woodsy Owl. She let the cool air brush against her face as she closed her eyes. 

The Hawkins air would take some getting used to. It was absent from factory fuels, cigarette smoke, and car exhaust the family was used to in crowded California. The atmosphere in rural Indiana was fresher than that of the big cities to the west, enriched by the lush forests surrounding the small town. Of course, the scent of manure from the local farms was a little intense. But it reminded Maeven of when they lived in Oregon when she and Max were little, or when they would travel to Colorado to visit Aunt Maggie on her farm.

“So, how’d the meeting with the Chief go?” Neil spoke up from behind the wheel, bringing Maeven’s attention back to the present. She brought her arm back in and threaded her fingers together beneath her backpack.

“Okay, I guess,” she shrugged. “We didn’t really talk that much, but he wasn’t scary like Daly.”

“Daly wasn’t scary, Margaret,” Neil scoffed as he turned the car into downtown Hawkins. “He was just doing his job. You’re too old to be scared of people like that, anyways. It’s pathetic.” He locked eyes with his stepdaughter through the rear-view mirror, to which Maeven darted her eyes downward to her lap to keep the tears from falling.

“He’s right, you know. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic, Maeven,” the voice taunted as her heart raced, silencing at the sensation of another hand grasping hers. Maeven looked at Max, who gave her a reassuring squeeze. Susan’s eyes went sad at the sight, prompting her to place a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“Neil. . .” she pleaded, approaching him with a soft voice she would use on her daughters when they were upset. He shrugged her off.

“What? It is,” he stood his ground.

Susan flinched at his sudden and unnecessarily aggressive shrug, but didn’t push the topic to her husband any further; not that surprising to Maeven or Max. It became more common between them the longer he’d been around and made himself comfortable in the Mayfields’ lives. Just another thing to add to the list of things Maeven would have to tell her school counselor about. . .if she decided to share anything at all, that is. It was too early to tell how she felt about it.

“It’s good to hear that, Maevey. It sounds like you felt good about it?” Susan tilted her head toward the back seat. Maeven nodded.

“I do, yeah. He was actually really nice to me. He didn’t really seem like a cop,” she explained, still gobsmacked that their earlier meeting didn’t end up with her crying. It was refreshing to not be pushed for once.

“I’m not convinced.” Neil scoffed and shook his head. “Lotsa folks I talked to today said Chief Hopper’s got quite the bad reputation around here. Doesn’t do his job right or some shit.”

Maeven stopped breathing for a few seconds as the gears in her head turned.

“See? He’s not even qualified to look after you,” the voice whispered into her head, her arm instinctively twitching in an attempt to shake the gross feeling away. Of course, Hopper was too good to be true. She should’ve known better. This is how it always goes.

“Well. . .the important thing is he seems nice. And it looks like he’s taking Maevey’s case seriously,” Susan followed up. It was really one of her better qualities; the ability to turn almost any bad situation into an opportunity with her optimism. But of course, there were some situations that didn’t have that easy of a solution. Maeven was living proof of that, thanks to her recent string of bad luck.

“Yeah. He better. The last thing we need is another one of her problems,” Neil commented as he looked for a good spot to slow down so the ladies could get out. He always had to have the last word. He often made sure that his opinion was made known; Maeven was a problem instead of a person to him, and she had a long way to go before his view changed. But she wasn’t sure if she should care about that.

When Neil brought the car to a full stop, the girls all unbuckled their seatbelts and climbed out. They recognized it as the place they were in front of when Max fell off her board a few feet from where they were now parked. Maeven tripped as she tried to stop herself so suddenly. A nice woman, the store clerk, came outside to see if they were okay. She seemed like the kind of person who would invite you in for tea and cookies if you fell right in front of her house. That’s probably what would’ve happened if Billy hadn’t magically shown up to drag them back home, almost as if on cue.

As Maeven and Max stood next to each other on the sidewalk in front of Melvald’s General, Susan went from the passenger seat around the front to lean down to talk to her husband. It was always a weird sight to witness, as the sisters often joked that she looked like a hooker trying to entice a deal with a potential client. Despite her knowing what her daughter’s felt about that position, she did it anyway.

“I’ll circle back around in thirty minutes. Just be ready by then,” Neil told her, placing his rough, calloused hand over hers.

“We will, Sweetie. Do you need anything while we’re here?” she offered.

“Wouldn’t mind a couple of six-packs, Suze,” he replied, leaning in for his usual goodbye kiss. It was almost pathetic.

“You got it. We’ll see you in a bit. Love you,” she laughed softly as she returned to the sidewalk.

“You, too, Susie.”

. . .

It was a huge culture shock to the Mayfield women suddenly going from having a store for every little thing on every little block in California to having only a small handful of choices Hawkins had to offer. Sure, they had been to stores like this in passing while on road trips or visiting their rural relatives. Having to live like that was a whole other thing. Something else they’d need to get used to.

It was nice, though. At least, Maeven thought so. So what if the place had that strange lingering smell? It was part of the charm.

“Hi, there. Welcome to Melvald’s! Can I help you guys find anything today?” The clerk the sisters met the previous day walked right up to them. Her nametag read ‘Joyce;’ something they didn’t notice yesterday. It suited her, though. They could tell.

“Are we that obvious?” Max groaned, leaning her head on her big sister’s shoulder. Maeven wrapped her arm around her as she grabbed a shopping basket from the entrance.

“Oh, no, honey,” Joyce laughed with a wave of her hand. “I greet everyone like that. Force of habit. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, have I?” she asked.

Susan confidently gripped her purse and secured it over her shoulder. “No. Well, maybe my girls. They were goofing off around here yesterday. We just moved here.”

Joyce’s eyes widened as they turned to the girls, causing them to purse their lips and shake their heads. She figured their mom probably didn’t know about their little tumble yesterday, so she said nothing; much to the girls' relief, it looked like.

It made sense that they were new. She hadn’t seen hair that fiery since poor Barbra Holloway.

“Really? You liking Hawkins so far?”

“It’s okay,” Max yawned, causing her sister to do the same. Even though Susan told them the previous night that they had to wake up early this morning, the girls’ bodies were still adjusting to their new schedule and timezone. She expected them to go to bed early when they arrived back home, even if she and Neil were planning on a date that night.

Susan took the shopping list in her left hand and folded it in half before tearing it and handing the lower half to her oldest daughter.

“Girls, here. Why don’t you go divide and conquer?” she asked. This was a usual Mayfield family routine, in which Norman and Susan would send their daughters off on a scavenger hunt for groceries. It made the important-yet-boring tasks of everyday life a little more fun. Norman was good at that; turning everything into a game for his girls.

At her suggestion, the sisters' drowsy demeanors basically disappeared as they both perked up. 

“‘Kay, Mom,” Maeven smiled before running off elsewhere in the store with Max by her side.

“It’s Joyce, by the way. Joyce Byers,” the clerk introduced herself, holding out her hand. Susan gladly returned the gesture. For a backwater town, the people in Hawkins sure were nice.

“Susan May-. . . Hargrove. Susan Hargrove,” she corrected herself. Susan still had trouble with the sudden name change after proudly wearing her ex-husband’s name like a badge for over a decade. But she was getting better at it. At least she didn’t make that mistake around Neil, anymore. She knew better, now.

“Nice to meet you, Susan. I have two sons, around your girls' ages. Maybe they’ll meet in school?” Joyce suggested, getting that typically hopeful spark in her eye that every mother seemed to have when talking about their children. Susan missed that feeling.

“Sure. That might be nice,” she agreed. She’d have to think about it. Max was certainly ready for new friends. But was Maeven ready, too? That seemed to be the question Susan asked herself every day for the last nine months.

“Where’d you guys move from?” Joyce wondered.

“We’re from California. San Diego. My husband got a promotion that took us here,” she said. That was what she and Neil agreed they’d tell people. It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Really? Is it nice down there? I’ve only ever been in Hawkins my whole life.”

“It is yes. My husband wanted us to have a fresh start here. My ki-. . .my girls and stepson are starting school tomorrow,” Susan corrected herself again. Even if Billy wasn’t around her right now, she could clearly hear him annoyingly scoff at her; “I’m not your kid, Susan. You’re not my mom. You never will be. Stop acting like it.”

“I need some supplies,” she told Joyce

“Oh, great! Well, school supplies are over there,” she replied, pointing the mother in the direction of the stationary. Maeven was probably loitering around there. “We still have a lot of leftover stock from our ‘back-to-school’ sale. I’ll just be around if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Joy. I appreciate it.”

. . .

Maeven had to contain her excitement at the sight of the small, yet charming selection of books at Melvald’s General. She knew if she let it out, her mom would come running over before crushing her in a hug and proceeding to scold her for being ���too much.” Of course, Susan would want to make sure her daughter was okay after coming so close to losing her not even a year ago. For more selfish reasons, she also didn’t want her family to be stared at like they were a traveling freak show. She didn’t think Maeven would notice this, but she did.

The humble collection of books of all genres stood amongst the stationery and office supplies; her favorite part of any department or superstore. She decided she would look at all the arts and crafts supplies another day. Her mom always took care of the school supply shopping, anyways.

Maeven loved reading. She remembers getting bored of all the books in her own room as a toddler and sneaking out at night to browse her parents’ little private library. Libraries quickly became her place of refuge from an early age, as if the sheer number of books could somehow keep her safe from everything bad. There were always answers for life and the high amount of unfairness it contained if you knew where to look.

Books were also a place to look for an escape when she needed it. Despite loving all the books she had read about animals and ecosystems around the world, there was nothing quite like reading a fantastical fairytale. Maeven was first and foremost a woman of science, but also had an insatiable appetite for magic.

Once she spied an old copy of The Hobbit, she instantly pulled it out from amongst the other books. She flipped through it and inhaled the smell of vintage printing. Despite having her own copy, she loved seeing other editions of it out in the wild. As a kid, she wanted nothing more than to go on an epic quest in search of a dragon. 

Her best memories of the book were when her dad read a chapter each night to her and Max when they were little. Her favorite was Rhadagast the Brown and his rabbit-pulled sled. They spent at least an hour or two on every chapter since Maeven kept stopping her dad’s narration to ask questions that he always answered and never yelled at her for. He didn’t want to disregard his daughter’s curious nature or undermine her intelligence.

The highlight of their journey together through that book, in Maeven’s opinion, was how she managed to convince her little sister that Tolkien's full name was ‘Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien.’ It was a classic Mayfield family moment that their family loved mentioning no matter how much it embarrassed the sisters each time.

“That’s one of my boys’ favorites. Are you a fan?”

Maeven flinched in surprise at Joyce’s sudden entrance into her bubble, instinctually putting the book back up on display. Once her brain caught up with the rest of the world and she realized she was safe, she relaxed her shoulders and breathed out.

“I am, yes. . .”

Joyce eyed the young woman as she tightly clutched the small shopping basket in her hand. She and her sister most definitely followed their mother’s instructions and completed their half of the shopping list; filled with everything from silverware to powerstrips and household tools. Joyce didn’t think she was that loud or startling. Why was this girl so nervous? So pale and seemingly fragile? It reminded her of Will and how jumpy he was for the first few weeks after his rescue.

“Sorry. I didn’t catch your name, did I?”

“Oh, no. It’s okay. I’m Maeven. My little sister’s Max,” she told her, waving her hand in multiple directions, gesturing to wherever her sister was.

“Maeven? That’s pretty interesting. Where’s it from?” Joyce wondered. This girl had a hippie vibe to her, despite the dark clothing and evident sadness that surrounded her. Susan seemed too uppity. What about her dad’s story?

“Well. . .it means ‘sage’ in Gaelic. I’m Irish on my Dad’s side,” Maeven explained. She could’ve gone into more detail but then remembered what her therapist back in California about oversharing. There was no need to bother a total stranger with her life story. Strangers weren’t interested in her. She knew better now.

“Really?” Joyce cocked her head to the side. “That's pretty neat that your family is so connected to their roots. I have zero clue about mine. All I really know is my Dad’s was Norwegian and my Mom’s was English.”

Maeven said nothing but gave Joyce a soft smile before her eyes returned to the books and stationery. When she pulled the strap of her backpack to be more secure, Joyce’s eyes widened as she let out a small gasp at the sight of the keychain on the zipper.

“Is that a dragon?” she immediately asked.

Maeven almost jumped again, surprised that this woman continued with the small talk. She hadn’t had a conversation so pleasant with someone outside her family in a while.

“Oh. . .yeah. It is. My friend made it for me,” she replied, looking down at the little accessory. At this point, it was a good luck charm. Dylan made it for her as a present for her birthday this year, but turned it into a goodbye present; a red dragon with yellow eyes atop their hoard of gold and gems. He told her that he based it off of her; her fiery spirit and determination.

“They made that? That’s impressive,” Joyce stared at the little figurine in awe, repressing her urge to reach out and touch it. This girl clearly already had issues with boundaries and being close amongst strangers. She didn’t want to worsen it. It looked like one of Will’s drawings came to life.

“Yeah. He sculpts and paints DND miniatures all the time. It’s kind of his thing,” Maeven added. At that moment, a light switch flipped on inside Joyce’s head.

“‘DND?’ Are you talking about Dungeons and Dragons?”

Maeven turned back to the woman in shock. This lady was definitely the last person she’d expect to play DND, much less just be aware that the game exists, but was glad she did. Hawkings just seemed to keep on surprising her.

“Yes! Oh, my God! You know about it?” her face lit up in excitement.

“Well, through my son, Will. He and his friends play it all the time,” Joyce replied. “They hold a campaign together once a week, at least. He’s a wizard.” She wondered what class Maeven would fit into. She seemed like a sorceress or druid. Maybe even a ranger?

‘Of course, her kid played it,’ Maeven figured. Just from that fact alone, Maeven could tell she was a good mom. Good parents show interest in what their children are interested in. Susan used to be that way. Now? Not so much. She feels a little envious of Joyce’s children, now. Having a mother who didn’t brush off their interests like they were a burden must’ve been nice.

“That’s not a very nice way to think about your mom, Maeven. You should be ashamed, wanting to just trade her like that. One day, she’ll be gone, and you’ll have nothing but regret.” the voice whispered in her head, trying to make her stray off-track and retreat into herself like usual. But she found herself not wanting this conversation to end.

“How old is he?”

“He’s thirteen, like your sister,” Joyce said, tilting her head to the side and briefly gesturing to Max, who was now in view with their mother by the chips and candy. As if on cue, Susan’s head turned to Joyce and Maeven before grabbing her youngest daughter by her arm and dragging her along.

“Maeven! What have I told you about bothering others with your. . .interests?” she asked, trying to sound as stern, yet as calm and gentle as possible. She failed.

“Speak of the Devil. You just had to jinx it, didn’t you?” 

Thankfully, Joyce immediately jumped to the girl’s defense.

“Oh, no! She wasn’t bothering me at all, Mrs. Hargrove,” she explained. “If anything, I’m the one bothering her. I’ll let you get back to shopping now.”

As Joyce returned to the front of the store, she left the Mayfield women in an awkward silence. Maeven was now shaking in her boots in humiliation and anger as she crossed her arms to hug herself. Why did her mom have to do this? What benefit could she gain from embarrassing her already fragile daughter in public?

Susan’s instincts told her to comfort the now-shaking Maeven, as she was obviously distressed by the whole situation. Never once did she consider herself to be the cause of that distress. She walked towards her daughter, taking the shopping basket from her arms before wrapping her in a tight hug and placing a kiss atop her head.

“Did you find everything on the list or did you lollygag around the books again?”

Maeven rolled her eyes and groaned before wriggling out of her mother’s grasp and turning away from her and towards Max.

“I have everything, Mom. It’s fine. I’m not an invalid,” she grumbled, standing next to her sister as she leaned against the beer cooler. The cold feeling of the frost against her neck and back calmed her down just a bit. But, of course, her mom had to open her mouth again.

“I never said you were, honey. . .” Susan said, gently reaching out to cup her daughters’ cheek, to which she wriggled away again with a pout. She took her hand back in shock, standing still with a blank face. Maeven had been doing that each time she was angry with her mother, but it had become more frequent within the last nineteen months. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to that. “. . .and don’t take that tone with me,”

“What tone? This is how I talk, Mom,” she whined, her head rolling along with her eyes this time, as she shoved the handbasket into her mother’s hands. turning to walk toward the front as they now had everything on their list.

“No, it’s not. You never used to sound so. . .so defiant.”

“Well, maybe you just don’t know me anymore, Mom. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Oh, Mae-Mae, I-”

“No, Mom. Please. For both our sakes, just. . .just stop talking.”

Maeven used to love it when her mom used pet names for her. It was another one of the tiny beautiful things that made life matter. But now? Now, it didn’t feel right. Every ‘Mae-Mae’ that came out of her mother’s mouth often sounded patronizing, condescending, and just plain. . .wrong. And when she was scolded while being addressed that way, it was as if her beloved childhood nickname had become a curse, an insult for behaving the way she did.

The nickname was a reminder of her childhood; the one that she so desperately wanted to go back to. If she did, she knew exactly what she’d do differently. She remembered the book in her dad’s collection of various encyclopedias that explained the butterfly effect. She obsessed over it when she was in treatment, trying to give meaning to the events that lead her there as if it would bring her peace. It didn’t, but she still reminds herself of each little event that could’ve changed where she ended up.

Now that it was ruined for her, Maeven had seen her mother in a whole new light. Susan was a lot of things; demanding, egotistical, pushy, and annoyingly talkative, just to name a few. But Maeven never thought the woman who carried her in her womb could reduce all that she was into a mentally fragile victim. And now, there was no way to change it back. It was tainted, ruined. . .just like her.

. . .

The three walked back to the front of the store to find Joyce at the register, marking a few lawn and garden items left over from summer with a price gun. When she looked up, she immediately put the price gun into the box of items and put it below the counter before Susan placed the hand cart on top.

“You find everything alright?” she asked with a smile, starting to scan everything before putting the objects into a brown paper bag; a routine she has mastered throughout her many years as a retail worker.

“We did, yes. Thank you, Joy,” Susan replied with a nod.

“Can she seriously not see her nametag?” The voice whispered in Maeven’s ear, one of the rare moments lately where she listened to it.

“It’s Joyce, Mom,” she corrected, crossing her arms. 

Susan was about to scold her daughter for such a sudden and, quite frankly, rude outburst. But when she looked down at the nametag to see that Maeven was indeed, correct, she stopped herself. Both mother and daughter definitely shared a rash temper.

“Oh, of course. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joyce waved it off as she continued to scan and bag. “It’s not the first time that’s happened and it won't be the last.”

Susan smiled and nodded as she looked Joyce over, debating whether or not this would be a one-off meeting or perhaps the start of a new friendship.

“How long did you say you lived here again?” she asked, also curious to know more about Hawkins from a local.

“My whole life. Hawkins has its problems, but so does everywhere. Lots of my classmates, including my ex-husband, went off for ‘better lives’ or whatever,” she pondered for a moment. “But Hawkins is where I belong. It’s my home,” she said with pride.

“You’re separated?” Susan asked.

“Yeah. It’s all right, though. We’re better off apart,” Joyce replied. Susan let out a scoff as she rolled her eyes.

“I hear that,” she laughed before continuing. “You said before that you have kids?”

“Yep. My oldest, Jonathan is around Maeven’s age, and my youngest, Will, turned thirteen in March.”

Now that Joyce had her full attention, Susan could see the classic signs of motherhood etched into her face. She could see the circles underneath her eyes acquired from so many sleepless nights with newborns. The lines above her brow were from the seemingly countless times a mother would get frustrated with her children. The wrinkles across her cheeks were no doubt from all the worrying about their safety.

“Really? Max just turned thirteen last February. Maybe we should set up a-”

“Mom, I swear to God. . .” Max suddenly interjected,  pushing her way between her mom and sister, desperate to stop Susan before it was too late. “. . .if you use the word ‘playdate,’ I’m skating home.”

The ladies, apart from Max, of course, all started laughing. Maeven pulled her sister into a tight hug accompanied by an affectionately annoying noogie. She and Max started playfighting and giggling; a classic Mayfield Sister moment.

“That everything?” Joyce asked, gesturing to their now bagged-up purchase. Susan nodded.

“Sixty Two dollars, please.”

Susan reached for her wallet in her purse but had to dig deeper when she didn’t immediately find it. As Joyce looked at the family of newcomers, she focused her attention on the eldest daughter. Seeing her relationship with Max reminded her too much of Johnathan and Will that it was uncanny. And as she thought back to her earlier interaction with the girl, a plan formed in her mind. She just hoped that it wasn’t too outlandish of a request for someone she just met.

“Actually, Johnathan’s really busy with the Photography club and works part-time down at the Theatre. And Maeven seems to have a lot in common with Will. If you’re alright with it, would you consider watching him after school?”

At the sound of this, Maeven froze, allowing Max to finally wriggle out of her grip and silently proclaim a victory with a fist pump. She didn’t know what to think. This woman had only just met her and she already decided she was trustworthy enough to look after her kid? Maeven wanted to sing from the rooftops. She wasn’t used to these kinds of offers back in California. Everyone in the community tended to steer clear of her there.

As she was about to reply, Susan interjected.

“Does he really need someone to watch him at that age?” she asked, finally producing her wallet from her purse and handing the cash to Joyce.

Maeven did her best to stop herself from erupting like a volcano. Why did her mom always do this?

“She probably thinks you’ll do something psycho if you’re left alone with a little kid like that. She thinks you’ll go full-on Carrie again,” the voice theorized. They weren’t entirely wrong, either. 

Susan always had the final say these last nine months. Of course, she had the best intentions. She wanted to make sure Maeven was ready to test the waters the way she used to and make sure there wasn’t a potential for her to be triggered and re-traumatized. And God forbid if she happened to have one of her episodes. As always, she never asked her daughter about her thoughts on this. She just did it, much to Maeven’s annoyance and frustration. Susan wasn’t as easily trusting as Joyce apparently was.

“Technically? No, but. . .” Joyce paused, trying to find the right words as she calculated on the register. She couldn’t exactly tell them the whole truth. “He’s been through a lot in the last year and even if he doesn’t like to admit it. . .he’s fragile. He can’t really be alone right now,”

‘Fragile’ was a word that seemed to describe Maeven a lot, lately. Even if she tried so hard to prove the people in her life otherwise, she knew it was true. But she was seventeen when she went through what she did. Will was thirteen, possibly even twelve when he went through whatever he did, barely out of childhood.

“Sounds like you and little William might have a lot in common. You should make him your intern when you become the next Zodiac Killer,” the voice laughed. Maeven waved her hand by her ear and shook her head, washing those nasty thoughts away. . .for now, at least.

“I can’t pay you a lot, but I’ll give you what I can,” Joyce offered as the cash till popped out. She noticed some of the snacks she picked out when talking to her earlier, as well as how she longingly looked at some of the many knick-knacks on the miscellaneous shelves. Maeven seemed like she would willingly accept being paid in small gifts.

“Are you kidding me? I’d love to,” she expressed. Joyce smiled, noticing the girl had a nice gap-toothed smile when she wasn’t twitching with anxiety.

“Well, we’ll see,” Susan compromised, taking the change when Joyce offered it to her. “She needs time to get adjusted to school first. Can we get back to you on that? Maybe in a week?”

“Of course! No problem,” Joyce said, closing the drawer and swiping the receipt from the printer, taking out a pen from the cup on the counter. “Here; I’ll put my phone number on the back of the receipt. Just call me when you’ve had a chance to think about it,” she told Maeven, making eye contact with her as she wrote on the receipt before tucking it into the bag.

“Thanks, Mrs. Byers.”

“Oh, just ‘Joyce,’ dear,” she gently corrected, surprised that the girl remembered her last name from earlier.

“Okay. Thanks, Joyce,” Maeven said with a little bow of gratitude, an odd change in her demeanor, and a sudden spring in her step.

“Alright, receipts’ in the bag, and you guys are all set!” Joyce said, handing the bag to Susan.

“Thank you.”

“Bye, ladies! Welcome to Hawkins!”

For the third time that day, Maeven walked away feeling oddly hopeful about the future. Maybe luck was finally on her side. She sure hoped it was, for a change. For now, she’d just have to wait and see.

. . .

For an hour since they got home, Susan had been dolling herself up for her date with Neil. While other families went to Church on Sundays, the day was reserved for them and their marriage. They worshipped each other instead of a faceless God. No matter how bad the previous week may have been, they always seemed to find something to celebrate. It was a tradition she thought died with Norman when he came back from that trip he never talked about, and she was glad she could recreate it with Neil. Of course, she would never tell him that, lest he react negatively.

Meanwhile, Max helped her sister unpack. So far, they had put all her clothes away in both her small orange dresser and her tall, sticker-covered wardrobe. They moved boxes with all her art and school supplies around her desk where they belonged and now had moved on to her collection of books. Maeven’s favorite thing about her new space had to be the bookshelf built into the wall. She left a few spaces blank, planning on filling them with her knick-knacks and mementos, saving the middle shelf for all her animal bones and other oddities. Max had a shelf just like it in her room, connected, as they now shared a wall. They knew they’d have fun tapping in Morse code to each other at night; a trick their dad taught them from his military training.

Maeven then came across a box she knew she wasn’t ready to open, yet; filled with the pieces of her old life that still brought her pain. As she stored it underneath her bed for a rainy day she hoped would never come, a soft knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

Billy gave her a soft smile, playfully shaking Maeven’s water bottle in his hand as he leaned against the door frame.

“Here. You left it in the kitchen. I refilled it for you,” he casually mentioned, handing it back to her. She leaned up on her knees to reach from her spot on the floor, the soft brush of his fingers against hers sending a pleasant shock throughout her body as she took her bottle back.

“Thanks,” Maeven noted, biting her lip at the gesture. Maybe later she’d thank him properly for mixing in a strawberry flavor packet. Billy left the room with a sly wink, hidden away from Max(but not as well as he originally thought).

Max may not have seen Billy physically wink, but she noticed how weirdly kind he had been to her ever since they first met that day at Fort Fun back in April. And since Maeven went through treatment, she had been different, too; her demeanor changed when Billy entered a room from her new normal, nervous, but passionate self, to a visibly anxious, restless, and vulnerable version. Did she have a crush on him? Was it the other way around? Whatever it was, it was fucking weird.

Maeven climbed up her bed and leaned over to place her water bottle before crawling back down to the floor to continue unpacking. But once she saw the way Max was looking at her, all serious, she tilted her head in confusion.

“What?”

“You don’t think that's a little weird?” Max asked her, gesturing to where Billy once stood, then to where her bottle now sat. Once she connected the dots, the voice crawled back onto her shoulder.

“She knows. She knows what a big slut her big sister is,” it taunted in her ear. She decided that playing dumb was her best way out of this.

“That he’s looking out for me? Not really?”

“Not that. The fact that he’s nice to you and an asshole to me,” she whined.

“He’s an asshole to everyone, Max,” she laughed, rolling her eyes as she continued to unload and categorize her books. “You’re not special.”

“But you are?”

Maeven froze as she cringed at what the inner voice whispered next.

“Oh, you’re special, alright. You like being his special little fuck-doll, don’t you?”

She squeezed her legs together and held her head down in shame, her head invaded with sinful memories she struggled to push back for another time.

“He’s still pissed about moving, Squirt,” she said, turning her head back to her sister once she found her bearings again. “Give him a week or so to warm up to the place. If he’s still giving you shit, I’ll talk to him,” Maeven promised her. Max gave a barely noticeable nod before turning back to unpacking the rest of the box.

She felt terrible lying to Max but explaining her relationship with Billy wouldn’t be easy no matter how she could possibly start the conversation. Maeven didn’t even know where to start, as she didn’t fully understand why she was with him, either. All she really knew was that he made her feel safe, and that was what she needed the most right now. Otherwise, she feared she’d fall apart all over again. She couldn’t let that happen, again. She couldn’t do that to her family.

“What happened to your nightlight?” Max changed the subject tilting her head in perplexity. It was literally the first thing they did to her room once they got into their new house.

“I was honestly hoping you’d know,” Maeven confessed. She hated that her sister sometimes bore witness to her sleepwalking and other nighttime episodes. But it was always possible that Max knew something she didn’t, and that maybe it could help her.

They continued unpacking for ten more minutes. And when Maeven finally found her box of animal bones and natural oddities, she had to stop herself from squealing. She missed them while they were packed up in that moving truck. 

The sudden ringing of the landline throughout every room in the house made them jump but went back to what they were doing as their mom picked it up in the living room.

“Girls! Your dad’s on the phone!” Susan's voice called from down the hallway.

The sisters’ heads shot up as they looked at each other before they darted like greyhounds across Maeven’s bed to pick up the phone.

“Thanks, Mom!” she yelled back.

“We’re leaving now! We’ll be back around midnight!” Susan called back as she hung up the phone in the living room. But by then, the girls had already drowned her out as they eagerly put the phone on speaker and held it in front of them.

“Dad?” Max spoke first as they awaited an answer.

“Maevey! Max! How’re my girls doing?” His voice was warm and familiar. It felt like home, even if Hawkins was technically their home now.

“Good,” Max shrugged.

“Okay,” Maeven added. Even in the girls’ indifferent mood, they were giddy just being able to talk to him for the first time in the week since they left California.

“Okay? C’mon girls, gimme more to work with here!” Norman laughed on the other end. “You had the school tour today, right? How you are guys feeling about it?”

“Fine, I guess,” Max replied. Jennifer Hayes wasn’t a good tour guide. She just talked about herself the entire time. Of course, Max tuned her out, taking in her surroundings and mapping the layout of the middle school in her head. At least she knew where all her classes were.

“I feel better having met a couple of the other students,” Maeven admitted. Her little sister scoffed.

“Yeah, except that Natalie chick looked at you like you were a ghost,” Max recalled. She wasn’t exactly wrong. Nancy was a little on edge during the tour, causing Maeven to feel the same. Her mind began spiraling again.

“She probably saw you in a newspaper. She knows what you did. She knows how fucked up you are and now she’s gonna tell everyone,” the voice told her. But this time, it didn’t matter to Maeven. Why her headshot was in the news, what happened on New Years, or just how broken she was; none of that mattered right now. All her troubles temporarily disappeared whenever she and Max were on the phone with their Dad.

“It’s Nancy, Squirt,” Maeven corrected her sister, as they both grabbed one of her pillows to rest their heads on while laying on her bed.

“Relax, Maevey. I’m sure this ‘Nancy’ was just shocked to see hair so bright,” their father reassured her on the other end of the phone.

“Or she was stoned,” Max ventured a guess. Maeven laughed at the idea. Witnessing that uppity honor student get high is something she would pay for. But Nancy looked like too much of a prude. Maeven would have to at least see her sloppy-ass drunk.

“No, she seems like too much of a goody-goody,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Neil still giving you a hard time?” Norman asked.

“Yeah. He keeps calling us ‘Margaret and Maxine,’” Max groaned. Rolling onto her back as she let her frustrations out into her pillow. “Ugh. It’s so annoying”

“That jackass doesn’t know shit from applesauce, girls. Pay him no mind,” their Dad cackled on the other end, forcing his daughters to do the same. After regaining composure from their laughing fit,” Maeven changed the subject

“How’re the fur babies, Dad?”

“They’re doing alright!” Norman replied. “You wanna say hi to them?”

“YES!” Maeven raised her voice to almost a yell. She never felt like she had to hide her enthusiasm around him.

“Oh, my God, yes, pleeease!” Max begged with a smile. The sisters leaned forward in anticipation, their ears almost pressing flush against the phone’s speaker.

“Okay. Bullet, Lucy, speak!”

On command, Maeven and Max heard the familiar howls of the beloved family dogs. They always found it odd that Lucy was the one with the gruff, deeper growl while Bullet was the high-pitched one.

“Hi, babies!” Maeven nearly squealed.

“Is Nutmeg there, too?” Max asked, more eager than ever to hear from her best and longest friend.

“I got her right here. You wanna say ‘hi,’ Nut?”

The ginger Somali half-squeaked, half-meowed through the speaker. It was another one of those sounds that just felt like home to the Mayfield sisters.

“I’ve missed that noise so much!”

“Hi, Nutmeg! I miss you!”

The cat made another sound in reply, pulling another laugh from the two girls.

“Hate to cut this short, but I gotta pee,” Max announced, leaning into the phone.

“Alright, Max. I love you,” Norman said.

“You, too, Dad,” she replied, nearly bouncing off her sister’s bed before leaving the room.

Maeven watched the soft glow of the Indiana sunset as the warm light hit the windows of her bedroom, causing the suncatcher she put up there to make the whole space sparkle with like a rainbow disco ball. She zoned out as she pressed her face against her comforter that was now warmed up from the light.

“Maevey? You still there?”

She suddenly remembered the phone she held in her hand, and who was on the other side.

“I’m here, Dad,” she reassured him.

“You nervous?” he asked.

‘Nervous’ was an understatement. Maeven was petrified. She had been given a second chance at life; a chance to still live after going through hell and back and barely surviving. If she fucked this up, it meant she never really deserved another life to begin with. She should’ve just died bleeding out in that forest when she had the chance.

This wasn’t like when she was starting a new school after moving to California from Oregon. When she was eight years old, the most she had to worry about was who she’d play with at recess. Now she had everything to lose. Her very livelihood was on the line.

“A little. . .” she lied.

“You’re gonna be fine. Trust me,” Norman implored her. Maeven just groaned in reply, wishing she could melt into all her blankets and never come out again. However, after nearly seventeen years of having the pleasure of being her parent, Norman knew just how to bring his daughter out of this funk.

“Hey. Let’s just lay out some rules okay?” 

Maeven untangled herself from her covers and phone chord, laying flat on her back as she tilted her head to the glow of the setting sun. It made her feel better that her Dad was probably looking at the same natural wonder she was. She remembered being a little kid and telling him that it looked like a campfire.

“Okay, fine,” she rolled her eyes with a smile. Her Dad laughed on the other side.

“Number one, Only raise your hand once or twice in each class. You don’t want them intimidated by you. Except for Science. Crush ‘em.”

Maeven held in a chuckle, unsure whether to be offended or flattered. A long time ago, that task would’ve seemed impossible to her. And even if it would still be hard not to be the teacher’s pet, the young girl was more than happy to not be the center of attention, for once.

“Got it,” she replied.

“Number Two: If you’re not where you are, just picture where you wanna be,” Norman continued. That one definitely wouldn’t be hard. It was practically how Maeven survived; picturing herself in the woods by a river instead of a stuffy classroom surrounded by people she didn’t like.

“Of course, always,” she confirmed, sarcastically insulted that he’d expect any less from his daughter.

“Number Three: You’re gonna feel like you’re all alone in there, Maevey. You aren’t. And I’m sure that school is gonna be a lot more interesting with you and Max around,” he concluded. Maeven could tell that he was starting to choke up. She had to pull back her own tears from falling. Even if her Dad couldn’t see her, she didn’t want him to hear her cry. He had already felt bad enough about having his daughters taken from him cross-country.

“I miss you, Dad,” she all but whispered into the phone, almost as if she was sharing a secret with him.

“I miss you, too, Maeven. Take care of your sister for me, okay? I’ll talk to you girls next week. It’s getting late.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Spitfire,” he softly spoke, before all that could be heard was the dial tone.

She was gonna be fine. . .she hoped.

. . .

A/N: Life in my neck of the woods has been super chaotic, my friends. I'm currently on a week-long break after I had to go to the hospital due to my boss overworking me. I'm using this time to catch up on some much-needed rest, organize and rearrange my house, spend time with my family, and work on projects. I'm going to definitely be looking for a better job once I finally get my license that'll hopefully allow me to build healthy habits for myself.

Thank you all so much for being patient with me and loving my story! Next chapter will mostly be smut after we learn more about how Billy and Maeven met and fell in love, initially. I hope you're all ready because I will also be making some major lore dumps. As always, please leave me likes, reblogs, and comments as they help add fuel to my creative fire and hopefully, you'll get more frequent updates!

Stay safe and wild, my dears!

The Spitifre Curse Taglist:

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[softpine]

i wasn't on tumblr when tlou part 2 dropped but i would love to know your thoughts on the game especially if/how they've changed with time if you're up to writing a paragraph lol

also i've seen a lot of ppl (i've never had a playstation so i have to go off of other ppl's opinions) say that while the story is about how the cycle of revenge is bad that the gameplay still rewards it and how that sort of defeats the purpose of the game for them and wanted to know your thoughts on that

happy tlou season 2 renewal <3

YES YES YES you know i’m always up for writing a paragraph (or ten)

first, let me just clarify one thing: the main message of the game is not “revenge is bad”. i hear people say this constantly and it’s just not true. the real message is all about forgiveness. if i had to boil it down to its essentials, i’d say the message is “love is a stronger force than hate.” but that’s just one interpretation!

i don’t feel that the gameplay rewards the cycle of revenge at all. abby kills joel and in return, she systematically loses everyone she cares about – leah, nick, jordan, nora, manny, yara, mel, and owen... plus she will never be allowed to go home to the WLF again. lev loses his entire family and community too. and they’ve both experienced unspeakable horrors while they were held captive by the rattlers. abby was punished for her decision at literally every turn. but she keeps fighting to survive because she has found a much stronger reason than hate to stay alive: love. protection. family. the first time she ever has a happy dream of her father, after years of nightmares, is when she saves yara and lev. killing joel didn’t give abby closure, but finding something to fight for did. it’s the exact same thing joel found with ellie.

ellie is not rewarded for her actions either. she’s the one picking off the salt lake crew members one by one, but we see her lose a piece of herself each time. she’s not experiencing catharsis, she’s only spiraling deeper into obsession and grief. she can’t appreciate anything good in her life, because she’s still consumed by everything she’s lost. she walks out on her partner, their baby, and their dream home to chase after this elusive “closure”, knowing that she may die trying. i think ellie herself knows that killing abby won’t make her feel better, but the only alternative is forgiving joel and moving on without him, which she doesn’t feel is possible yet. she has to lose everything before she’s able to accept joel for who he is and what he’s done.

it’s a fucking masterpiece the way that the game makes you think joel and ellie’s last conversation was a fight, until they reveal that actually, their last conversation was ellie offering him an olive branch. “i don’t think i can ever forgive you for that. but... i would like to try.” is so impactful because ellie never got the chance to forgive joel while he was alive. even while she was trying to avenge his death, she couldn’t forgive him. it’s only when she has lost herself that she can finally forgive him, and perhaps she can even understand him. that forgiveness has nothing to do with abby or anyone else – it’s all about ellie. it’s about love.

as for my personal opinions about tlou2, they haven’t changed much. i loved it when i played it the first time and i love it even more now!! i greatly appreciate the sheer balls they had, and the fact that they never changed their creative vision to make the game more palatable / marketable. i’ve never seen a game make such an unpopular choice and i respect the fuck out of them for doing it no matter what anyone said. i love joel but i’m glad he died because it gave rise to one of the most impactful stories i’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing 💖

(special mention to the fact that the main character is a lesbian, which is something i would never even think to wish for because it’s so uncommon in games of this genre. ellie is everything i’ve ever wanted from gay rep, meaning that she’s literally just existing as a gay person and her sexuality has hardly anything to do with the plot. i fucking love how she has a detailed story, a rich personality, and complicated relationships while she just happens to be a lesbian. it’s literally perfect, no notes!)

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Hii this is the anon who had no ideas for twisted wonderland OCs no more you have unlocked the idea corner😈

- Water haired Jellyfish

A lab experiment who was taken at 8 and ran away at 12. They stumbled upon a mountain village and lived there before encountering The Eldridge horror once more however much calmer of a meeting when their first as the jellyfish decides they will take care of them too. They have the tiredness of silver however far more smiley than him. Can attack with their hair lol and also the tired and forgetful tendencies come from being tampered with as a child. (Friend with octo trio bc their in the same dorm).

- Eldridge horror mage(They have eyes on their hands and a mix of praying mantis antennas and fish wings and a mouth on multiple places (stomach/ neck/ arm)

The type to just stare straight into your soul and can definitely climb ceilings. Grew up in the forest as a black inky monster for a few hundred years before stumbling upon a human with black hair (jellyfish before the jelly)sworn to protect the human because of the human nursing him back to health. Definitely more of an observer with most personality traits coming from jellyfish.( who’s personality is based on silver).

- Human boy with high running speed (19 and definitely repeated his second year)

Literally a hole slay, wears pink everyday and dresses in y2k, the human flirts with ^ the Eldridge horror in Amazement. The human is a researcher that came to twisted wonderland when they were 14 transported to sunset savana so tans lines and adventured across near into the slums eventually meeting the cat siblings and their parents and lived with them until night raven. Also definitely gets into trouble with Bat cat. They carry around a notepad and a brief case full of hidden wonders and is known as a beast tamer to most of the school for the mystical creatures they’ve tamed. (Has the personality of Juliet from Lollipop Chainsaw bc I want them too. And the personality that’s heavily similar to nick is the harpy lol so ship tho I don’t see it honestly tho they are best friends.)

- Sweet black cat (They have a mouth on their stomach so definitely not blood related to bat cat plus bat cat is well a bat.🤔)

The sweetest boy you’ll ever meet, raised in a powerful household they’ve always learned to be grateful. However this subjects them to multiple toxic relationships and friendships that negatively impact them (time loop of a character going from happy to depressed) however it’s a story of growth so they seek help(they overblot) because of the stress that they might mess up again and the overwhelming pressure society and their parents put them threw, they eventually get help and is the sweetest once more. (Definitely gives kalim energy but I think it’s more of a mix between trey and cater as they are far more energetic and photogenic.)

- ( no OC yet here help😭)

- Blue flamed Bunny

Based off of Cerberus from Hercules / Greek Mythology made to keep the shroud brothers safe after orthos passing. When first created they had three heads two chopped off leaving off the middle head. Obsessive with Idias safety it turns into story of bloodshed and obsession as the bunny in blue flames further ‘protects’ Idia. (Does eventually get better and learns boundaries)

- Black Sheep Alice in Wonderland

Based off of American McGee Alice with a twist. This alice grew up in wonderland as one of the red knights children being subjected to all of Wonderlands horrors and combat having to fight to stay alive, they escaped threw a well into Twisted wonderland. Being homeless for 4 years and having to starve for most of it they found themselves locked in a familiar coffin. Being tormented and scared for most of their life they were cold to everyone they met. Having overblot from being attacks once more from guards sent from wonderland they find themselves going back to their home to finish off the queen of hearts or become her. Coming back to twisted wonderland to finish their school year. (After that a lot more open and warm to people as they find new hobbies and friends.)

- Violent and demeaning Bat cat

Not based on anything however they are made to represent manipulation and tricking people with kindness (they have big yellow cat eyes to create a sense of alluring). (Also very good with kids bc they literally are the oldest of 3 (black cat) (human boy (adopted). Gets character development when azuls overblot happen as that was a close friend to them, and they slowly warm up to others when they find Azul okay.

- Silent judgment Harpy/Parrot

Like Jafars parrot this OC is very potty mouth very very rude sir (not rainbow btw I mean kinda but mostly red bc hair) and most likely helps jamil in his overblot form (they give him more power by fighting with him) because they want power as they grew up in the slums with little to nothing. To gain power is to change people and make them see. And after they are a lot calmer and talkative. However they gained some new friends ruggie and the cat siblings.

(May I be strawberry cake anon)

You may!! Also I love ur ideas for ocs they very unique. Eyeballs the eldrich horror.....

[atypical-artisan]

I made a rant in my server a bit ago about some of my ships so I'm posting them today cause they're true and I love them

Here's the burnt bread one

starting with joe:

He's had a tough life... he went to catholic school where he was shamed and bullied for being weird and disabled and different and despite his mother and sister's love, they couldn't protect him from the trauma that gave him. On top of that, he's trans, which made him even MORE vulnerable to abuse... so he decided he HAS to be 'normal', no exceptions and shamed himself away from all the things he's naturally attracted to for years.

On top of that, being trans made him more scared of his sexuality, made him feel like the only way to be a real man was to throw out all his 'feminine' traits, especially his attraction to men. This leads him into some nasty relationships.

Here, all of his partners control him, tell him that if he wants affection, he must please them and ignore his own wants because he needs to 'man up'. Even the few men he does date do this, holding themselves over him and slowly breaking his spirit under the weight of their demands of servitude.

Throughout his life, joe learns that to be loved means he must forget himself, hide and crush what makes him different and please everyone he can.

When he enters the wvba at 25, he stops dating- too busy with work. And after his first match, his one win against nick bruiser of all people, he slowly goes down. He gets weaker physically and in spirit- he can barely defend himself against people shitting on him, let alone against the other boxers. He feels pathetic, weak, and worthless.

And he DOES have the strength to fight- he's constantly protecting his friends and the things he loves, standing up to assholes for people or causes and be truly terrifying... but he can't do it for himself, because he doesn't see a reason to defend who he is

Aran has had a similar life. While he's loved by his family and some friends, the outside world has been unkind to him.

His love life has been hellish, being denied the ability to express his love to his partners because it's too weird or over the top. And when he was allowed, he was told to be grateful. He was hurt and told that it was love, forced into things he hated and told it was good for him. And again and again he tried to squeeze into the right boxes and failed. On top of all that, he's dealing with a lot of untreated trauma and mental illness but he refuses to go to doctors because he's lost all trust in them.

But, instead of curling inward on self hatred, aran responded by exploding out.

If the world didn't want him how he was- he was going to make himself completely unpalatable except to the most diehard people. He emphasized his weird, ugly ways, hoping to push all away so he wouldn't have to deal with anyone anymore. Sure, he has 'friends' but he never truly trusts them, holds them at a distance and bears his teeth when they get too close.

Aran learned love from someone who isn't his own flesh and blood was basically a lie- only found through sheer luck. He couldn't trust people and was alone in this world. He had to lie and cheat and cross his fingers because that's what living is. He bites and growls without shame and cheats because he knows he's an animal and needs to survive.

And yet, he CAN be gentle! He's gentle with children and even other people, his family, the few outside it he trusts. He lets himself cry at night when no one is around but his dog and be sad and scared, but alone.

And then... they find each other

it's tense at first

Joe doesn't know how to talk to people well and aran is untrusting and standoffish. But joe mentions dropping out young, or a horror movie and peaks aran's interest. And the more they talk the more they realize how similar their lives are. How much they understand about each other's pain and fears and lives just by sheer coincidence.

Joe takes it as a sign, aran just thinks they're the luckiest bitches on earth.

So they grow close, and by doing so, find healing.

(I have fic ideas based on some of these scenarios so :P)

Aran sees joe's weird side and embraces it, ENCOURAGES it. He pushes joe because the joy on his face when he feels free is the most beautiful thing in the world. He see's joe's anger and pushes it forward, tells him he's worth something no matter how he is and helps him learn to love himself.

And joe sees aran break, the terrifying walls he's built up crumble, and he embraces it. He holds aran and lets him cry on his shoulder. He embraces his weirdness and takes pleasure in seeing his art and his uncouth ways. And he especially loves holding him down and holding his hand when he needs it.

And goddamn do they WANT each other. They want each other so bad and have no clue how to say it because deep down they're both scared of ruining the wonderful thing they have together and losing the one thing making their lives better

Surprisingly, it's joe who cracks first.

At this point, joe's more physically healthy and confident than he's ever been in years. But stress is building up in his heart. He's so grateful for aran, he knows what the other has done for him, but others just don't see it- most of his minor circuit friends don't believe him when he says aran's been helping him and still fear aran, still try and get him away because they're sacred aran is truly the monster he presents himself to be>

But joe... he snaps- now, he's stopped caring, he KNOWS that what he wants matters and what he wants is aran

(Leading to this juicy bit of dialogue)

Joe: “You may not be what I need- you may not even be what’s good for me! But dear god you are everything I want. And for once in my life, I refuse to deny myself that!”

And fuck does aran need to hear that

He'd never known that he could not only be loved like this- or even actively WANTED as himself. So he just kisses joe and holds him, very much trying not to cry.

And in the end things turn out fine. Aran drops his walls and joe builds up his strength even more. Aran goes to therapy and gets meds and opens up for once, allowing those 'friendships' to become real and give him even more strength. Joe embraces himself and becomes so blindingly happy and free it's impossible to ignore. He stands up for himself- he fucking moves up in the circuit and matches with goddamn hondo!!

Of course, there IS a little drama when they reveal their relationship...

The minor circuit freaks a bit. Esp kaiser who gets real jelly cause he had a crush on joe.

The world circuit is supportive, even sandy who had a crush on joe too but sees how happy aran makes him and so he's happy too.

Don wants in on the relationship and fails (rip, they have enough issues sorry don).

Disco, hugger and hippo are all hesitant but chill when hondo gets some reasoning into them

And tiger is undisturbed, even a little happy now that kaiser is free.

After a while kaiser gets over it and makes up with joe and aran. He actually gets really happy for them, esp after realizing that him and who joe truly is just wouldn't be compatible as lovers but are still great friends. He actually thanks aran for helping joe become so happy and respects him a lot for it.

And they all lived happily ever after the end :)