#so it had to have been there since 1983 at least

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

I finally started reading Flight of Icarus and I’m so confused because it’s implying Wayne and Eddie don’t live together…even though Eddie literally flat out says he lives with Wayne in the first episode of the season?

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | p. 9

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

July 1983

There is a crackle and a pop that comes from the fire that dances before you. Fiery like an angry monster erupting from his hibernation, ready to feed. The wood sizzles, as the last bit of sap cooks from the bark. Moisture drains as the wood turns to ash.

Your eyes train to the open night sky. Trees touch the air reaching out to the heavens above. Pine has become one of your favorite scents since coming out to camp here nights ago. This is one of the final nights all together.

That being said, you’re a bit melancholic about going home tomorrow. At home, you won’t have the dramatic retelling of woodland monsters by Eddie who ghosts over the flames, and nearly commands them to bend and to turn. You won’t have Gareth’s half decent cooking that sits just right in your belly, and not making you bloat out until you’re about to burst. Freak quietly eats the leftovers from dinner time. Hot dogs. Potato chips. It’s all quite typical of a camping trip. And, Jeff, who plays you songs on his harmonica that he says his grandfather taught him ages ago. You’re immersed in the experience, truly.

Jeff puts down the harmonica a moment, and Eddie files his stories back between his ears. The conversation is light. Although, there is a line crossed eventually. Gareth storms off down a darkened path to a lake of water to get some air. You tell the group that you’re going to the bathroom quickly after this happens.

You sneak around the campers, and take a flashlight with you. The pathway is a straightforward slope. Even if you somehow veered off the path and onto the thick wood, you would hear the water and still push forward until you hit the lake.

The large moon overhead mirrors into the water, along with its friends - the stars. Ripples in the tide gently caress the sand leaving soggy wet trails. You can find Gareth making purchase against a fallen log not too far from the path.

“May I join you?” You clear your throat, adjusting the flashlight to the beach floor when Gareth squints at you.

Gareth doesn’t have much to say to you. It’s not you that has him irritated after all. He drops the tension built at the base of his jaw, and his shoulders follow.

You take this as an invite, and you scoot not-so-close next to him. The sea speaks to you. She says so many words without saying anything at all. The freedom to travel the world, and to touch so many people. She’s home to many creatures. And, abused by so many humans. They take advantage of her generosity, and thus is the meaning of womanhood. You could shred your English teacher apart for giving you a scalding hot ‘D’ on your essay about femininity. For him, the world bended on hand and knee.

At least you wouldn’t have to take a class with him this upcoming year.

“Moon’s big,” you bite your tongue for such a silly little thing to say.

Gareth kicks the sand and the pebbles at his feet, “I know they’re just teasing me because they’re older.”

Their conversation grew childish, as Eddie had picked on Gareth for his lack of experience with women. It nicked a hole in his pride, or perhaps invited the shy little boy to rise to the surface after all of these years. Truthfully, the sting of Eddie’s comment isn’t what bothers him. The other guys laughs. It’s all a joke to them. But, internally Gareth has been struggling. All by his age, the boys had at least one date under their belt.

You inhale deeply, which grabs Gareth’s attention. With the moonlight caressing your skin like a tender hand holding up your chin to bless you even more beautifully than you already are, Gareth knows how screwed he is. Jeff has told him to back off. He insists that you’re Eddie’s girl. You’re fueled by a secret passion that burns only for Eddie.

That might be true by the way you laugh undeniably hard whenever you are left together. Oh, your laugh is a fresh breeze on a hot day. Warm sun punches his body. The leaves on the trees begin to shake. Finally, the wind kisses his ears coolly in a most needed sort of way.

In a way, he needs you to laugh at him like that.

“Don’t let them get to you,” you shrug your shoulders up and down. The flashlight has fallen into the sand, while still on. Shadows of their toes hit the beach sand making silly little puppets. “You don’t have to go around sleeping with every girl you see. I’ve never . . .”

Your confidence fails you right then. Simply, you didn’t want to seem suggestive towards Gareth. Well, in case a situation like that might happen. That’s not to say that it would. But, you know - you have a long life ahead of you and Gareth isn’t the worst looking guy you’ve seen. Or, calling him not-the-worst sounds wrong. That’s not what you meant.

Gareth bursts your train of thought, “I’ve never even kissed a girl. Shouldn’t I have at least done that?”

Was he really asking you for advice? Sure, your first kiss was soggy and far too wet for your liking. You could have sucked face with a frog, and he would have been kinder than- oh, it doesn’t matter. First kisses are always less amazing than what you expect. That’s why you practice.

“There isn’t a timeline on this sort of stuff,” you explain to him. “It just sort of happens. Some people don’t get kissed until they’re forty.”

Gareth’s half glare shuts your mouth, before you could make him feel any worse. So, you’re not good at this? Who knew?

“I cannot wait for my first kiss to be when I’m forty,” he snorts lightly. “Eddie’s already-,”

You jerk your head, but the end of the sentence never falls out of his mouth. Gareth’s quite red in the face, and he doesn’t dare turn his head back to you.

“Eddie can do whatever - whoever he wants,” you pretend like the bomb Gareth dropped doesn’t bother you, but he watches your shoulders bend slightly.

According to Jeff, you’re Eddie’s girl. They’ve spoken a lot. Jeff’s advice is to back off, before Gareth gets bitten. Knowing Eddie, he’s a shark that could take you down whole if he wanted too. That’s not to criticize his close friend. It’s just that keeping you so close, but to not make a move on you is beyond childish to think of. He has to understand that one day someone will come along and ask you on a date. That they’ll sweep you off your feet. You deserve to be loved, and to be held. Not kept under Eddie’s shadow.

Oh, God. Can Gareth risk loosing Eddie as not only a friend, but as a major part of a band they created. This band means everything to all of its members. The sound is so unique, and so new. They could really be going somewhere with this.

Gareth decides in that moment that he would rather chance making the band a success, and to keep everyone and everything the same as it has always been. One day he can wake up without humming to the tune of you. That the scent of your perfume doesn’t send him into a trance-like-state of utter silliness.

The burn in his belly aches. Gareth stares into the sea, as though he’s thrown his greatest secret, and his greatest worry into the ocean. She swallows the message whole. Yeah, if only that works. He hangs his head.

Your fingertips grace the top of his left shoulder blade. Even though his jacket, Gareth can imagine the softness that the pads of your fingers provide. Soft and smooth ridges pepper alonghis hidden skin like a well-rehearsed song and dance.

“Gareth,” the sound of your voice melts him. “Are you okay?”

Gareth cocks his head in your direction. You watch in waiting as his eyes fall to your lips. Hopefully, he doesn’t see you tremble too.

There is a moment that the both of you share in complete silence. The waves quiet themselves. The trees no longer move, but rather watch the scene unfold in front of them. It’s perfectly romantic.

Hot breath hits your face. Gareth has become closer to you, or maybe you moved to him. You swallow thickly. He licks his lips.

Pause.

There is a thrust of wind that hit the both of you, but doesn’t cause either of you to break away. It only moves you closer. Hand in hand.

“Fuck it,” Gareth mutters to himself, and closes the gap.

Slotting his lips against yours, Gareth could swear he hears the heavens calling from beyond. You tangle your fingers into his hair, holding on for dear life. While Gareth’s lips aren’t classically trained, you hold out for practice. The message is clearly written. His nose bumps against yours, and you hum through locked lips. Gareth sneaks his grip on you around your waist, below your jacket. The skin there is cool. Shivers wrestle up your spine. you around the waist below your jacket in a bold move. You gasp.

As the kiss ends, you both find pulling away to come too soon. Sneaking in one or two more small kisses, your eyes do finally meet. Your lips are swollen and damp, and so are Gareth’s lips. Somehow you’ve tangled yourself into him. Threatening to swing your legs back over his lap, Gareth grasps the back of your knee with his hand.

“Stay,” he stammers out of breath. “Please.”

You nod - completely winded yourself.

“Maybe you could use a bit more practice?” You pinch your fingers together with a suggestive smirk playing against your lips.

Gareth cackles into the sky, then lets his head fall back to you. “Seriously?”

You nibble your bottom lip.

Gareth brings his lips to yours once again bringing your two bodies into one shared unit. You wait to slip into something deeper that he isn’t quite ready for yet. Instead, the two of you spend far too long enjoying the moment.

There is a group of campers not far away wondering where you have gone off too. Robin rides into the darkness with the assistance of a flashlight to use the bathroom. Hopefully, you haven’t died in there yet.

Robin does catch up with you two in the sharp fork that’s along the pathways. If you head upwards, you’ll begin to smell the bathrooms not too far away. Down the hill is the short walk to the lakeside where you’ve just come from.

“I went to the bathroom, and then I went to find Gareth,” you explain rapidly to Robin.

While she knows that could be a lie, Robin has had far too much pop and she does really have to go to the bathroom. She leaves you there, and she will forget about finding you two suspiciously in the woods together.

Upon returning to the camp site, you hadn’t talked about if either Gareth or you wanted to tell the others about what has just happened. It doesn’t seem as though you’ll get a chance because Gareth is whisked off in a drunken apology from Eddie. Gareth tells Eddie not to sweat it, then accepts a marshmallow peace offering.

You too return to the fire opposite side to Gareth. A poker is offered to you, so that you might stick marshmallows on the ends to cook them. That is one of your favorite parts to a camping trip - it used to be your favorite.

Perhaps, something has changed your mind. Something sweeter has come along. It's like the scent of a new book. Sweet and woodsy. You’re just unfolding the pages to this novel.

Gareth’s gaze softens as he catches you looking right at him, and you blush while tucking your lips into each other.

You can’t wait to read this book.

-> <-

[August 1983]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And we’re back! In today’s episode, we have a very special guest. 😉

Also, just so you guys know, my podcast interview with the Idling in the Impala podcast is now live! For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, drug use, PTSD, violence, and another big reveal…

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Revenge could wait for one more day.

It all can wait, Ben thought. Despite how vehement he was yesterday, today, he was reminded of how good it felt to sleep in a warm bed with a beautiful woman. 

He laid there behind you, on his side. He’d woken up to the sound of music somewhere downstairs, maybe in the dining room.

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward.

Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said. “Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat. 

For so long after that day, he hated you. He told himself that he didn’t give a shit about whatever was happening to you, because you clearly didn’t give a shit about him.

But the long months wore on to longer years, alone in the dark. Too often, your words would rattle through his head, reach through his chest with ragged claws. No matter how much he fought it, all he had time to do when he was alone, was think.

He vacillated between stubborn, angry indignation, and rethinking every interaction he had with you, with Countess, the rest of the team, and beyond. Slowly, he allowed himself to retrace his steps. If only in his mind, he began to regret certain things…at least where it came to you.

Ignoring you was both harder and easier, since he couldn’t see you.

That all changed a few days ago.

Eisenstein returned to his cell, but this time he wasn’t alone. Two guards held you bound and gagged. You were just as shocked to see him as he was you.

It felt like he was suspended in time.

He saw the signs of aging in your face, but it didn’t matter. Even now, you were beautiful.

The spell of it broke when they threw you down onto the metal table usually reserved for him. He saw now that they had you in a straitjacket to keep your hands covered. The anger built inside him, almost incandescent in his veins.

“What the fuck is this?”

 The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

A realization soon dawned on Ben, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. He saw your terror, the way you wordlessly pleaded with him, asking for help with your eyes.

Part of him still hated you, but he couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t allow this sick bastard to hurt you again. Not right the fuck in front of him.

You were still his.

His hand traveled down your bare shoulder, over the gentle slope of your side, and down the curve of your hip under the covers. You shifted and hummed, edging toward wakefulness. Ben settled in from behind, protectively embracing his body around yours in a perfect fit. He began kissing along your neck, slowly.

“Hmmm I’m sleeping,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. He smirked. His lips became more insistent, along with his hand spanning your thigh.

“Wake up, then,” he said. He teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, dragged your earlobe between his teeth. You shivered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted, smiling.

Ben huffed. “Yeah, keep being a fucking brat. That’ll get me to stop.”

His beard rasped against your skin as his lips found a path down the column of your throat. Acquiescing to open your eyes, you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more room. Meanwhile, his cock pressed insistently against your ass.

You smirked and shifted your hips, grinding back against him. “Maybe I like working you up.”

“Oh yeah?” He moved your thigh over his to spread your legs for him. There the warm, blunt tip of his cock pressed at your entrance, nudging you open with shallow thrusts. You moaned in response, reaching back to slip a hand in his hair.

You were a wanton little thing, he thought, even as he reached around to bury his fingers in your pussy. Already finding wetness between your folds, he gathered some of it and rolled your clit smoothly between his fingers. You gasped his name, your hips bearing down against him.

He took the opportunity to sheathe himself all the way inside you, until his hips were snug against your ass. You made a sound of pleasure that had his balls clenching on reflex. Your voice was a curse, even without your powers.

For once, he fucked into you slowly, with long, unhurried strokes that still managed to rock the bed. Ben was surprised the frame and springs hadn’t given up yet.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” he said, close to your ear. He punctuated his words with deeper thrusts. “Say you understand.”

“Yes,” you agreed on a gasp.

“Yes, what?” He laid more tantalizing kisses along your neck and jawline. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” you said, in a coarse whisper. Ben claimed your lips in a kiss, before he kept moving inside you in languid strokes.

You were a moaning mess, your eyes squeezed shut. You grabbed at your breasts and kneaded them yourself, rolling and pinching your nipples. He strummed more insistently on your clit, until he felt your inner walls finally start to throb around him.

Your orgasm hit you in a slow, long wave as you pressed your face into your pillow. And you clenched so impossibly tight on his cock, it triggered his release as well. His arm curled around your middle and pressed you tight against him as he uttered a sharp grunt. He finished hot inside you, panting heavily into your neck afterward.

“Well, good morning,” you quipped, despite trying to catch your breath as well.

Ben’s hazy reverie broke into a chuckle. He dropped a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

When he pulled out of you, you shivered a little. He rolled onto his back, and regardless of the mess in the sheets, you turned over to rest your elbow on his pillow, leaning over him.

“I should probably tell you something,” you said.

He eyed you in suspicion. “What now?” 

You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, dragging your nails through the fuzz there.

“My family’s from Brooklyn, not a small town in Indiana,” you confessed. "Made it up to make me seem more...down to earth. Doe-eyed and likeable."

Ben’s brows shot up. He took a moment to process that information, then he shook his head.

“Fucking figures.” His arm lowered to curl around your lower back, caging you against him.

“I grew up in a brownstone that we had to share with two other families,” you said.

“So you were broke.”

“Yep. When I was born, my family spent all their savings to contract with Vought, to give me Compound V,” you explained. “Their plan was something like, if I became a famous superhero one day, I’d bring us out of our shitty life.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “So they pimped you out to Vought.”

“Essentially,” you said. You paused. He could see it was difficult for you, but you talked more about your life—the expectations from your parents, the training, the grueling schedules and the robbing of your childhood. 

“When my mom died, I…I realized just how much they took from me,” you said, gazing up at him. “Isn’t that horrible?”

Again, Ben shook his head. His hand had been caressing up and down your back, but it stopped now. Part of him was still reluctant, but he told you about the biggest lie of his life. That he hadn’t grown up poor or struggling. That his father practically owned half of Pennsylvania, and Ben had been a spoiled rich kid. He’d also gotten kicked out of boarding school after starting a fight.

“My father said I wasn’t worthy of his name,” he said, with a wry turn of his lips. “So I went out, talked to some of his golf buddies in the War department, and got myself into the Vought program. I became Soldier Boy.”

You listened with rapt attention. Not interrupting him, just giving him the time he needed to find his words.

“When I came home after the war, my mother was just as proud as she’d ever been,” he recounted. But he didn’t smile. “My father took a good look at me, maybe for the first time in my life. And you know what he said?”

You gave him a questioning look, silently prodding.

“He said I took a short cut. ‘A real man wouldn’t have cheated,’” he said.

When he eventually met your gaze, you at least didn’t look pitying. Just understanding.

“I guess we both have daddy issues, huh?” you said.

Ben shook his head. Then he eyed you. “You don’t look that surprised by all this.”

You smiled, a little sheepish. You stroked your thumb across his chin.

“I can sense when a man is lying to me, remember?” you said pointedly. “I clocked you a long time ago, pal. Mostly any time you told some fake war story... You didn't fight in the war, did you?”

He frowned in offence, even though you both knew he couldn’t deny it.

"I was there," he said.

You gave him a knowing look. "Ben."

"I fucking would've, all right, but by the time I got there it was pretty much..." He waved a dismissive hand. His brows were crunched along with his worsening frown. You felt his embarrassment, and as a result, his agitation. You were glad to finally get the truth in his own words, but you didn't want to work him up in that way either.

You tried softening him with a kiss to his cheek. You rubbed a soothing hand over his arm.

“So what do you want to do when we get our lives back?” you asked, purposefully changing the subject. “After the whole payback thing.”

Ben sat up with you against the headboard. His upset slowly faded away with your ministrations, your gentle touch, and his expression fell into contemplation.

“I always thought I had time, but uh…I thought I’d eventually settle down. Have a couple of rugrats of my own. Raise a family,” he said. “Thought I could do it better than my old man.”

You tilted your head at him with a certain measure of surprise. Out of everything he might’ve said, that one didn’t occur to you. Although, with his upbringing, you supposed it made sense. You smiled.

“You might have a few of those out there somewhere,” you said.

He chuckled. “I've always thought so.”

He looked at you in a way he hadn’t before, a bit gentler, with something else you couldn’t name. Your face warmed as something fluttered in your lower belly.

“So tell me then. What do you want?” he asked.

Once you worked through that bit of nerves, you thought about his question. It took you longer than you thought it would to come up with an answer, but when you did, it was the most honest thing you could think of.

“I want to be happy.”

He paused, not expecting that answer. Then he nodded, with a short hum.

You sighed. “Okay, if you really want to go after Vought, I think I have an idea of where we should start.”

I can’t believe it. This thing still fits me pretty well, you thought. You twisted in the mirror to examine yourself in your old black and violet supe suit, though you didn't bother with the mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was already with your generous host, sat with widespread legs on the couch while he smoked a large blunt. His smoke coiled out lazily.

“You gotta believe me, I didn’t know what they were planning,” said Arthur Cohen. AKA: The Legend. He had been forced into a chair, though Ben hadn’t bothered tying him up. The man knew better than to make a false move. He was a decade older, and lucky for him, even wiser.

His penthouse apartment in New York looked more or less the same. Hit records and old successful movie posters adorned the walls, like a true has-been.

“Yeah, you said that fifty fucking times already,” Ben snarked. “What you haven’t said, is why.”

“To be honest, I never asked,” Arthur said. His expression soured. “Stillwell and Stan Edgar shivved me out of that decision, those uppity fucks. Then they got me fired on some technicality.”

“Allegations of embezzlement, or so I heard,” you said, reentering the room.

Arthur raised a finger. “Not true. That money was well earned backpay.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I know you’re lying, right?” You approached the men and crossed your arms. “What’s the lay of the land now?”

“Well, Stillwell’s the new me. Stan’s the new CEO. They disbanded Payback after you disappeared. The others are either working new gigs or are in early retirement. But I heard Vought’s working up to creating a new team.”

You nodded and shared a glance with Ben. He looked a little too chilled out right now. Apparently, Arthur had the good stuff.

“Before we jump into the frying pan with this, I want to go see my family,” you said. “Would you…want to go with me?”

Ben blew out more smoke, gesturing at Arthur. “I’ll keep this one company until he finds our old team. Make sure he doesn’t fuck off to Rio.”

You felt the sting of disappointment, but you sighed and agreed.

“Just…wait for me to get back before you go anywhere,” you said. You saw Ben prickle a little at being “told” what to do. You lowered down to his lips.

“Please?” you said, plying him with a kiss, and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

He tightened his hand on yours. His gaze drew over you, briefly with more clarity through his high.

“Fine,” he said. “Be careful.”

You nodded with a smile, giving him one more kiss goodbye.

Your father was the longer drive north than your brother’s house in Queens, so you headed up to find the former first after borrowing a car from Arthur. According to him, your father had moved upstate to Albany after your “death.” 

Now, you understood why.

He lived in a two-story house on a whole acre of land, complete with three cars, a pool, and oh yeah, his new girlfriend. She looked good hanging off his arm in Atlantic City, as you saw from a picture on the wall—after you broke into the house, that is. To be fair, they’d left the sliding glass door open in the backyard.

Your dad was dressed like he just got home from the golf course, walking over from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped his glass of wine in shock when he saw you standing there, admiring the only framed picture of you, your mother, and Chris on one of the display shelves. Glass shattered across the hardwood floor.

“Hey, Dad,” you said. You turned to him, not bothering to hide your disdain.

He gaped for a few seconds as he tried and failed to make his mouth work. He pointed at you with a shaking hand, your name finally falling from his lips.

“It’s a beautiful place,” you said. You gestured widely at your surroundings. “It’s nice to see that you finally got what you wanted.”

He tried to go to you, to embrace you, but you held out a hand. Your lips trembled as you fought the onslaught of your emotions. If he touched you, you might not have been able to control your actions.

“Did you give any of the settlement money to Chris and his family? Or did my death just make you rich,” you asked.

Your father’s eyes closed. He released a heavy sigh before he was able to meet your gaze again.

“He wouldn’t take any of it,” he admitted.

Your tears stung in your eyes as you smiled a little. “Sounds like him.”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Again, he tried to get closer to you, and again, you held him off.

“The only thing I need from you is to keep doing what you’re doing,” you said. “Keep living your life like you no longer have a daughter.”

With that, you stalked out of the house and shot out the door, back to your car, no matter how much he called out after you. You got into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel once, twice, venting your frustrations. But you forced yourself to take in deep breaths to calm yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

He wasn’t worth it.

You wondered if you should go see Chris though. Would it be safe for him and his family? Was Vought watching them as a contingency, if you ever escaped?

You weren’t sure. You rucked through your purse lying in the passenger seat for the weird “cell” phone Arthur had lent you. You wanted to check in with Ben first, before you went anywhere else.

You started to dial, but a gloved hand shot out and injected a needle into your neck. You startled at the sharpness and the feeling of a chemicals rushing through your body. Your eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

All you saw was a blurry, black mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking plastered.

He had been ever since you left yesterday morning. In his unrest, he’d moved on to a handful of whatever opiates Arthur kept in his medicine cabinet.

Christ I’m fucking bored.

He glanced down at the phone in his lap. The one Arthur gave him, along with a list of numbers that had been taped to the fridge. The first number on the list was the cell phone you were carrying. Ben read the rest of them.

Pizza place. Chinese. Swedish massage—hmm, there’s an idea. Handy man. BEST escort service…

Ben rose a brow. An inebriated smile curved his lips.

“What makes it the best escort service?” he asked, and loudly. Enough that Arthur came over from where he’d been making calls in his office, trying to find the rest of his former teammates’ whereabouts.

Arthur raised a brow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

Ben shot him a terse warning look. The other man raised his hands.

“Eh, I’m three times divorced. What do I know?” he said, but he sighed and gave Ben a long look. “It just seems to me that you and Sirena got a good thing goin’, that’s all.”

The thought of you managed to cut through the haze of drugs clouding Ben’s mind. He frowned.

“That’s how Missus #1 caught me, with one of my ex-assistants in the jacuzzi,” Arthur said, with a mild grimace on his face. “She got that house in the divorce. Well, that and the kids.”

Ben looked over at him blankly.

Heaving a sigh, Arthur went back to his office.

Ben glanced down at the list of numbers in his hand, and the cell phone in the other. What the fuck was taking you so long then?

He dialed the first number on the list—your number. It rang several times, but you never answered. He called you again, waited a few minutes, then called you a third time. You weren’t answering.

His frown worsened, along with a suspicious prickling up his spine. Fuck...

He'd felt it the moment he let go of your hand, but he'd been too out of his mind to actually listen to his instincts; the same ones that warned him not to let you out of his sight. And more importantly, not to let you go.

He got up from the couch and stormed into Arthur’s office, shoving the door open. Arthur jumped in his seat. 

“What? What’s the matter?”

“She’s not picking up the fucking phone,” Ben said. He paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Arthur didn’t ask him the predictable question: how do you know? He just took in the look on the supe’s face and knew it wouldn’t be wise arguing. He tried calling your father's home, but all the man would say was, "She left. She's gone."

Arthur hung up with the man, and for a long moment, he sat pensively while Ben angrily paced the small office, like a tiger confined in its enclosure.

“It’s possible that Vought knows you guys made it back,” Arthur said. At the dark look on Ben’s face, the other man rubbed his chin with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to track her down for ya. In the meantime, I’ve got Countess’s address. Maybe she'll even have an idea of where to look for Sirena.”

He slid a piece of paper toward Ben across his desk. He grabbed it, pointing a threatening finger at Arthur.

“Find her.”

You woke with a groan. You knew a drugging when you felt one, and this was it. Someone had given you a powerful sedative.

You were alone in a white padded cell, lying on a cot. It was all too familiar.

Except for the tall figure in black standing in the middle of the room, watching you. You gasped with a jolt, pressing your back against the wall after you sat up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Irving?”

Black Noir stepped closer until he was sitting beside you on the cot. Tentatively, he raised a hand up to touch your cheek with gentle, gloved fingers.

Your shock gave way to anger. You slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?!” you said sharply.

Noir backed off at once, as if you’d struck him a real blow. He got up, went over and grabbed a dry erase board that had been lying against the far wall, along with a marker off the floor. He wrote something down on it, then he showed you.

You shouldn’t have come back to NY.

You frowned, both at what he “said,” and in confusion. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you?

“What did you expect?” you asked incredulously. “For me and Ben just to disappear forever? To let you keep ruining our lives?”

Noir paused at that. He tilted his head with a long look at you. With your abilities, you were able to sense that he was disheartened, and even angry. He erased the board with his arm and wrote something else.

Do you love him?

You blinked at the question.

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew.

Soldier Boy

Emotion rose high in your throat, but you worked past it with a swallow, and a deep breath.

“That’s none of your business,” you said.

Noir just stared at you, his head tilting forward. The longer he stood there, watching you, waiting for an answer, the longer you prickled with unease.

He erased the board and wrote the same question again. He held it out for you to see, shaking it once in emphasis.

Do you love him?

You hesitated, but you didn’t want to lie anymore, even to yourself.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “I know what he’s done, believe me, but he isn’t a monster.”

Noir’s head twitched. You felt his anger intensify. He dropped the board onto the floor, startling you, but all he did next was slowly raise his hands to take off his helmet. He showed you what was left of his mottled, disfigured face—the burnt skin and the divot in his skull that had never fully healed.

Your mouth parted in shock as tears sprung in your eyes. You tried to avert them, but Noir stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, turning your face up to his and forcing you to look. Your lips trembled, but you met his gaze unflinchingly.

When he seemed to be satisfied, he released you and stepped back. He placed his helmet back on.

“I understand why you hate him,” you said at last. “But you made your choice when you let them take me too. You…you changed everything for me.”

You were satisfied to feel a lance of Noir’s guilt. You had scars too, and most of them weren’t physical.

“I’m not going to apologize for my choices now,” you said, with a firm glare. “So unless you’re going to kill me, you can fuck off, before I scramble what’s left of your head.”

Your eyes glowed with your power. You opened your mouth to begin your siren’s song, but Noir turned on his heel and exited the door, leaving you alone in the cell.

A fucking chimp sanctuary. Really? Ben thought as he broke into the boundary of the reserve. About a quarter mile into the tall grass, he found a large, if rundown country style house in the middle of the woods.

“Yes, Big Daddy. I’m almost ready for you. Just let me heat these up…”

Ben raised a brow, but he gritted his teeth and kicked through the front door. There she was, Crimson Countess in all her glory, holding a set of anal beads.

She gasped at the sight of him, but she ignored the “client” on speaker on her landline phone, and dropped the beads so she could aim a fiery blast at the intruder.

Ben jumped out of the way and tossed his shield. It hit her square in the chest and sent her flying back into the wall, destroying a bookshelf and the dining table. He walked over to it with slow, heavy steps.

She raised her head with a groan, but then, her eyes watered with disbelief…and fear, when she looked up at him.

“Ben?” she said. “My God…it’s really you, isn’t it? You... you look the same.”

“You don't,” he remarked. He lowered down to grab her by the collar of her suit and raise her out of the rubble.

“How much did the Russians pay you, Donna?” he asked calmly.

She struggled to escape, her nails scraping at his gloved hand. He tightened his hold.

“They didn’t,” she admitted. Tears leaked from her eyes under her mask.

“They didn’t pay you anything?” he said through clenched teeth. “Then why?”

You know why, came sneaking voice in his mind. He tried to pay it no heed, but Donna sneered at him.

“Because,” she spat. “I fucking hated you. We all did.”

Ben’s lips pulled at a humorless smirk. His chest prickled with heat. “I should’ve known you were a bunch of sniveling, backstabbing, fucking cowards.”

“Kill me then,” she taunted. “Is that gonna make you feel better? Going to make you feel less empty inside?”

Ben’s chest began to get that nuclear glow, but he managed to fight it down, back into embers.

“Not yet,” he said. He drew her in closer. She held onto his wrist, her feet scrambling over the debris on the floor.

“I need to find someone,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

Ben and Donna sat across from each other on her living room couch, with the landline sat between them. The phone was on speaker as it rang. The longer it took, the more annoyed he became.

“This better work,” he said. She gave him a flat look.

Finally, a woman answered the phone.

“Good afternoon. Stan Edgar’s office. How may I assist you?”

“Hi Gloria, it’s me, Donna,” she said. “I need to speak with Stan as soon as possible, please.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting.”

“Trust me, he’s going to want to take this call.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid his next availability isn’t until next week. And next month if you want an in-person meeting.”

“Just tell him to call me back asap!” She said, hanging up the phone in a huff. Ben gave her an unimpressed look.

“That was your big fucking plan?” he said.

She huffed. “You think breaking into Vought is going to be easy? Let alone finding that weasel. He’s got the best security money can buy, and by the way, finding where they’re keeping your little girlfriend isn’t going to be any easier. They could’ve stashed her literally anywhere by now.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Ben got up from the couch with an angry breath. He turned away from her and rubbed at his beard in contemplation. He shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.

I should’ve been there. The thought gripped him, deep in his gut. Guilt was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

“We’re going to need help,” Donna said.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. He glanced back at her.  

“What, the rest of the fucking Scooby gang?” he snarked.

“Or you can try going in alone, guns blazing,” she shrugged. Her sharpened gaze met his. “How fast do you think they’ll kill her, just to spite you?”

Ben’s jaw clenched. Donna leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Or worse. They’ll put you back in a box and ship you back to the Russians,” she said. Her snide smile had him clenching his teeth. “Either way, you’ll never see her again.”

With everything in his being, Ben wanted to fry this bitch to Kingdom Come.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”

Donna’s expression fell. “What?"

"You heard me!" he barked, grabbing her arm to pull Donna to her feet. "Get the fuck up."

She struggled against his grip. "Where’re we going?”

“To find those fucking Twins.”

They took her car, a tiny sedan. Evidently, the end of Payback hadn’t been good for Donna’s career. Arthur had told him that, irony of ironies, she now sang at a Soldier Boy tribute act at Voughtland to pay her bills. And as he’d seen earlier, she needed to pad her income in other ways.

She was driving them up to Vermont. It was going to take days, and Ben was already sick of her.

It was a small blessing when they stopped at a gas station in the nighttime. She gave him her credit card to buy some snacks for the road while she filled up the tank. (He took the keys with him as insurance that she wouldn't bolt with the car.)

He returned with a far bigger bag than she expected. She forgot what a human garbage disposal he could be. He tossed the card back at her.

“Your card’s maxed out, by the way,” he said.

She glared at him, but she endeavored to let it go with a sigh, raising a hand to her temple. How the fuck had this become her life?

To minimize being overheard, she stepped closer to him while the gas pump kept going on her car.

“Gunpowder is the easiest one to find next. Mindstorm’s probably hiding in a hole in the middle of the woods some-goddamn-where,” she said, keeping her voice down. She gave her unwanted companion a sly look. “Though I’m thinking you want Mindstorm to stay wherever he retired.”

It brought up an unsavory memory.

After the team turned on him, Mindstorm had been the one to lock his gaze on Ben. For a moment, his feet had been rooted to the ground while Mindstorm tried to shove him deep into his mind. It had given someone the opening to slip a mask of Novichok over his face. He suspected it had been Countess.

Now, Ben turned to her with a glare at her audacity.

“You know, for a massive cunt, you’ve got some brass balls,” he said dangerously. “How the fuck didn’t I see what a vindictive little snake you were from the beginning?”

Donna scoffed in derision.

“I’m vindictive? Says the cheating, lying, bastard,” she snapped.

“Oh, shut your hole. You knew what I was doing, and you didn’t give a shit,” he said with a glare. He leveled a finger at her. “You used me to get exactly what you fucking wanted. Fame, money, and all the perks that come with it.”

Her lips pursed, like she didn’t want to admit it. But if they were airing out dirty laundry, then she wasn’t pulling any more punches.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one. Was I?” she said. “Anyone who ever smiled at you, fawned over you, or sucked your dick was trying to get something from you. Or, they were scared of you. Because you’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, Sirena won’t be able to stomach you anymore.”

The thin leash on his temper finally snapped. He reacted, reaching out to grab her by the throat. He was truly thinking about breaking her neck.

Donna choked for air and gripped his wrist. “Without me, you’ll have no one. Good…fucking…luck finding her.”

Ben was furious, but he battled it down, expelling a breath of frustration.

He released her. She coughed and gasped and stumbled a few feet away from him, glaring at him all the while through her fear.

When she was eventually able to stand again, she and Ben shared a look of mutual loathing, but also, of understanding.

It was an uneasy truce. For now.

You were quickly unraveling alone in the dark.

You felt the phantom cold of your old cell. No matter how you rubbed your arms through the leather of your supe suit, you couldn’t get warm. You released a shaky breath and swiped at your tears.

You missed Ben. He had to know by now that you were in trouble, but you didn’t know if he’d know how to find you. Or worse, if they found him first.

You steeled yourself and tried to calm your panic. You counted to thirty. Your eyes flit to every small detail of your cell that you could name: the small crack in the gray linoleum tile, the line of ants slowly creeping along the corner, the brittle wool blanket you were sitting on, laid over your cot.

When your breathing was steady, you tried to think. You didn’t know where you were, of course, but you could try to sense how big the building was.

You did something you rarely did. You cast your awareness outward as far as you could reach.

There were very few male energies, and you only picked up on a few scattered thoughts.

Until you found one. It felt…strong, but young. A kid?

Jesus Christ, what’re they doing in this place? you thought.

What…who’s there?

You heard the voice in your mind, small and afraid and lonely. Before you could answer him, the door of your cell opened to a few familiar faces.

There was an older man in a lab coat that you recognized, but you couldn’t place his name until you read his monogram. Vogelbaum. Followed by Stan Edgar and Black Noir, who came to stand behind you. You knew that if you made any wrong moves, Noir would kill you this time.

Quickly you read their energies as you observed them.

Vogelbaum gave off mild interest in you, but it felt clinical. Stan felt resigned and calculating as he took you in.

“For what it’s worth, I do wish it hadn’t come to this, Sirena,” Stan said. “We didn’t intend for you to get caught up our deal with Russia.”

He may have been telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you cared.

“You’re in the most secure lab we have,” he said, gesturing to your wall-to-wall cell without windows. “No one knows you’re here, and no one will find you.”

You smiled dryly. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want to know how you and Soldier Boy escaped the facility in Russia,” he said, gathering his hands behind his back.

What he really meant was, How did you escape? So we can make the next cell even more effective.

You leaned forward and spat at his shoes.

Black Noir grabbed you by the back of your neck and yanked you back. Your jaw clenched in anger, but you didn’t struggle. Even if you opened your mouth to sing, Noir would snap your neck before your powers had time to affect him.

Stan remained unaffected by your outburst, though he glanced down at his shoes.

“These are handmade Italian leather,” he remarked.

“Even if you find Ben, you’ll never be able to kill him,” you said tersely.

“We don’t need to kill him. Nor will we need to find him,” Stan said. “He’s already looking for you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart swelled with both hope and dread, though you tried to hide it.

“We have a plan to neutralize him. Several, in fact,” he added, and spread his hands wide. “Until then…welcome home.”

Smug bastard. You glared back at him.

He left, along with Vogelbaum. Black Noir glanced back at you once, then he was gone.

The lights in your cell turned off, leaving you in darkness. You heaved a breath and couldn’t help the tears that found hot paths down your cheeks. You curled your knees up on the cot and held them to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could pretend the room wasn’t pitch black. You focused your breathing, in and out, until your heartbeat began to slow down from its panic.

The kid, you remembered.

You licked your dry lips and tried casting your awareness out again. When you found the familiar energy from before, you reached out to him.

Hey, are you there? you prodded.

Who the hell are you?

It’s okay. Don’t be scared, you said, and you gave him your name. Are you locked up here?

Y-Yeah.

I’m sorry to hear that. I am too.

How can you be talking to me…in my head?

Well, it’s complicated, you admitted. It’s a new power I’m trying out, thanks to my time as a human test subject.

Something told you this kid knew the feeling.

What’s your name? you asked.

Um…John. I’m John.

  AN: 🤭 Oh, yeah, we're going there.

How did you like getting Ben's perspective on things? And his "forced" team up with Countess to find the rest of the cast of Payback. 😬 What could possibly go wrong?

Next Time: 

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually did.

His hand fell back to his side, letting the younger man breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 11

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[kerink]

i cant sleep so i wanna talk about the different ways i conceptualize cecil's age. to me there are 3 domains i consider: chronological, physical, and functional

for his chronological age, we know cecil was a teenager in 1745 making him more than 279 years old. this one's pretty straight forward.

for his physical age we have to do some math. i've broken it down in greater detail before, but the tldr of that post is that (in my estimation) cecil physically ages 4-8 years for every 49 years he's alive. given how much wtnv likes a 1:10 ratio, i'd actually be willing to bet my math in the original post is close but wrong and cecil ages at a 1:10 rate. if cecil was at least 15 in 1745, and if he was stuck at 19 for at most 100 years, that would make him around 33 physically.

cecil's functional age i've never seen talked about and i haven't had a lot of chances to talk about before, so this was the main motivator for this post. cecil isn't just a man, he is The Voice. and since huntokar found night vale after it was founded and didn't break time until 1983, we can assume there was something supernatural about cecil before her involvement.

leonard burton was host of nvcr for "an uncountable number of years" and cecil has said he didn't recall anyone being host before him.

cecil interned under him from at least 1745 until ww2, likely after pearl harbor (1941) since cecil stated america was involved in the war at that time. so cecil interned for ~179 years and has been hosting for ~83 years

it's unclear when leonard died, i've detailed the murky timeline on his wiki page, but cecil had been hosting for between 38-60 years when he did. when leonard died he was crossing the street outside of nvcr, which i interpret this to mean leonard was still involved even after he retired, likely continuing his mentor role informally or else helping cecil as a consultant.

no matter how long cecil had been hosting, 38-60 years is a drop in the bucket compared to "an uncountable number of years." cecil as The Voice was still very new, functionally very young, when leonard died.

this continues the theme of cecil's life: that he's abandoned too young and before he's ready. i read cecil's lack of on-air professionalism to be a reflection of that; just like how he struggled and lashed out and acted up after his mother left he's doing the same thing on the radio. he didn't have anyone to show him any better. we aren't seeing cecil the 279 year old immortal or cecil the 33 year old man, we're seeing The Voice who is still only a child

[intothedysphoria]

Steve wasn’t sure which was worse. That the nightmares had started again or that Dustin had developed an obsession with Simon and Garfunkel.

Things had consistently been off since 1983 but they’d quickly gotten far, far worse since their latest trip to The Upside Down.

Dustin had brought back an eel. At least Steve thought it was an eel. He hoped it was an eel.

It was in a glass tank above Dustins bed, it had a foul temper and ever since it had entered Hawkins, strange and awful things had started happening to Neil Hargrove.

Steve didn’t feel sorry for the man, he was an asshole.

It was the fruit going bad after two hours on the shelf he was concerned about. The scorch marks on the grass. The nightmares.

It was always the same. There was a boy his age, with golden hair, running through a field. He’d fall deep into a well then Steve would wake up.

The boys name was Billy. Steve wasn’t sure how he knew this. He just did.

The eel started to grow. It had a particular fondness for Cherry Coke and Max for some reason. Why Dustin was feeding it Cherry Coke, Steve had no idea.

The day the eel got too big for its cage was the day Steve had a genuine fear of reliving the Dart situation.

Of course, that coincided with the nightmares getting worse. Well, some of them included him having sex with Billy, so maybe he was having a sexuality crisis. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The well continued to plague his dreams as well. Deep and cavernous, it swallowed Steve time and time again.

There was only one thing for it. Steve was going to talk to the eel.

Maybe dragon was more apt at that point. The eel had grown ten times overnight and stared at him from a roof with clear blue eyes.

Billy’s eyes.

The dreams shifted after that. Billy started talking to him. Really talking to him.

He was eighteen years old, he was Max’s missing older brother and he’d fallen into a cursed well. No he wasn’t really a dragon, no he wasn’t a demogorgon and yes, he was gay.

He gave this delicious little wink to Steve before the dream shattered apart.

Of course the well was a fucking portal to The Upside Down. Steve had no idea what exactly had happened to Billy but he borrowed every single folklore book from the library.

There didn’t seem to be an answer. At least not at first.

There was one book that said Billy needed to be faced with his greatest torment. Only then he could be free.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Neil Hargrove wasn’t exactly smart. It hadn’t taken Steve much work to lure him out into the woods, just a few goads. Just enough to get to the hill that Billy had made his home (much to Dustin’s grumbling disappointment). He was also very loud

Billy took one look at Neil and ripped out his heart.

Then he collapsed, shimmering and shrinking as his body changed into something altogether more human than before.

The eighteen year old that lay before Steve was toned, with golden skin and hair and a tattoo of a skull on one arm.

He blinked at Steve, obviously dazed, then held out a weak hand and an obviously rehearsed smirk.

“Hey sexy, wanna go out sometime?”

Steve would not be held responsible for the tears that started to run down his cheeks.

They did go out. Eventually. Once Billy had healed.

And Steve only found the occasional dragon scale in the shower.

*Loosely based the Northumbrian folktale The Lampton Wyrm and I mean LOOSELY*

For @harringroveobsessed

[abandonedography]

A Well-Preserved Abandoned Time Capsule House

Along a scenic road lies this incredible time capsule house with everything left behind. This large home built in 1956 features interior design elements from the 70s including shag carpeting in the bedrooms, a carpeted wall in the primary bedroom, appliances from the same era, and even an Asian-themed tiki bar/room in the basement. There are several personal items left behind as well from clothing, to photos and even letters from the children to their father.

The Home was owned by a German man named Hans. He was born in 1923, and he married a woman named Emma at a relatively young age. Hans was a school teacher by profession, teaching at a nearby school. He was a hard worker and was always furthering his education, as seen in several certificates found throughout the home. I believe he also had a small business selling renewable energy sources such as solar panels and wind turbines which he operated out of a separate part of the home. In his spare time, he liked to build and maintain his elaborate model train display in the basement.

He and his wife Emma enjoyed travelling and did so often until finally deciding to settle down. They had two children, Adele and Michael. They led an idyllic life for a few years but as time went on cracks began to emerge in the marriage. Emma decided it was time to leave and she moved with their children a couple of hours away from Hans.

Hans moved on and met a woman named Ida. Michael would occasionally send letters to Hans and from what I read, they did not have the best relationship. Michael being very religious, was always optimistic they would see each other during the holidays but from the sounds of the letters, that likely didn't happen. He was also upset about the fact that his father did not call him regularly. In one of the letters Michael said that after a phone call with his father, he was scared to death of visiting him after speaking his mind. Emma did not get along well with her ex husband and this likely played a role in the ability for the children to visit with their father as well.

Life continued on for both families until Hans passed away in 1980, he was only 57. Ida lived in the home until at least 1983 as seen in a handwritten letter from Michael addressed to her. At some point after that, Ida moved to Pennsylvania since she likely had friends/family there. The house has sat abandoned ever since.

Emma passed away a few years ago but I have not been able to find out any information about Adele. Michael however spent a lot of time in school training to work in a religious-related field. He had inherited a strong work ethic from his father, reminiscing about how Saturdays were work days and how that impacted his life. He has since found a very rewarding and successful career in religion.

source - video of the house

[aetlasx]

prologue

pair: eddie munson x witch!reader

summary: Ah, memories. You journal your first day of high school, but things quickly take a turn just a few weeks later.

tw: menstruation, pad/tampons, bullying, name calling (pls lmk if there’s anything I missed)

a/n: just stick with me lol. he’ll be in the first part. Also, this is an AU!! For spooky season!! thank you so much for reading!!

*the chat font is the diary entry and it goes back to normal at the end*

August 22nd, 1983 It's been a few months since i've written in this thing. I thought it'd be a good time to start now since I finally made it to high school!

You know what that means? Four more years till I leave this shithole!! Better than five. June was actually waiting by the door when I got home, she really wanted to hear every detail of how it went. I told her about my classes, I have Jonathan in two and Nancy in several. I told her how the school and people were so different from anything I was used to. But, it doesn't take her long to find something wrong with the way I think. She started with her usual warnings and advice, all the things I need to avoid, all the mistakes I shouldn't make. I know she's just trying to protect me, but it feels like she can never have trust in her little sister.

On the other hand, at least Teddy asked if I had fun. He's always been the one who knows how to lighten the mood, especially knowing how his wife is. He asked about my teachers and any clubs that looked cool enough to join. He even asked about Jonathan and Nancy.

Jonathan was definitely not as excited as me. He's quite, but he's always been that way.I know that his mom was excited for his first day of high school, she even convinced him to bring his camera. Right now, I'm trying to convince him to join the newspaper but he just shrugs me off. And Nancy, well, although it's been one–girl is practically glow. Within just 8 hours of the school day, she was able to meet a boy. She kept gushing about him and is pretty excited for the rest of the school year here. I'm genuinely happy for her.

Before June could add her two cents, I interrupted her with how I stopped by Aunt Claudia's after school to see how Dustin's day went. He was already sprawled out on the couch, 'exhausted' from fighting with his new math teacher. It had been a bit since I had seen them, I slaved away my summer at my job so stopping by, I felt grateful that they weren't even mad. I'll have to start hanging out with him again.

Anyways, I’m determined to make the most of freshman year with my friends. I’m ready to prove that I’m more than just a product of this stupid town.

Wish me luck!!

September 16th, 1983

I think I lied. I don’t know where to start…but a four year wait is too long. I don’t know where it all went wrong but it started over the weekend.

Sometimes I’d like to think that if my mom was still around, this wouldn’t have happened. Hell, June is like my mom, why did it happen. I’m talking about mother nature’s gift. It seemed as though no on thought to inform me that a girls first period would be this chaotic.

Nance and I had a movie night planned. I hadn’t really talked to her much, only in class, because her new boy toy or whatever—Steve Harrington, was taking up most of her time. I thought this would be a good time to just catch up and gossip, I was wrong. That Friday was horrible. I ended up throwing up, getting the chills, my body ached to no end. But I was still determined to make movie night happen, especially since June and Teddy were gone for the weekend.

As I was dying on the couch, Nancy finally showed up. But to my disappointment, it was only to cancel. Her and Steve were going out on their first date. I don’t know if it was how hot I was feeling or my intestines twisting, but black spots started clouding my vision. I just remember her screaming for Steve and once I knew it, I woke up in the hospital.

What I’m about to write, I’ll say with confidentiality…probably because I’m the only one reading this. Whatever.

A period is probably normal for all females. What’s not normal is having to go to the hospital and having your best friend’s boyfriend make fun of you because the doctor called you a late bloomer. I mean, she apologized but, if I could’ve just died on that bed, I wouldn’t be here.

Even June lectured me when I interrupted her weekend getaway. The whole ride home she kept complaining and saying ‘how could I not know’ and ‘you just gave us another unnecessary bill’. Like, sorry my baby’s natural response has ruined something for you.

Fuck. That’s not even the worst part. When Monday came back around, everyone was looking at me when I walked in. I know how cliche it sounds after what had just happened but knowing how popular Harrington was and who his friends were, he had already told the whole school by now. During gym, Carol and a few other girls threw pads and tampons at me. I got called ‘Bloody Mary’ and ‘Leak Freak’ in the hallways, at lunch, and anytime anyone had the chance. I tried to stay strong, I even hoped Nancy would say something to me during class or at least when she saw me but she just looked at me with sympathetic eyes. It’s just hard to believe that a few weeks ago, everything was fine. We were making fun of our teacher, gossiping with Barb, and even went shopping but I guess things change. Now when I look at her I’m just consumed with rage.

Jonathan has been supportive, though. The evening I got out of the hospital, he had actually brought over some of my favorite snacks and listened to me cry all night. Even when the mocking was bad, he’s stuck by my side. He’s told some kids to fuck off, walks me to class, and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong but knowing that I have to wake up and go through it again doesn’t really ease my pain.

I feel like my chances of making friends and actually joining some clubs are ruined. When I try talking to some new, they give me dirty looks. When I go to ask about different clubs, they turn me away. I’ve lost hope. Thought this was suppose to be a fresh start but I guess not.

And just to add more salt to the wound, I haven’t been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes and drift to away, I’m met with such an unsettling environment. The atmosphere is thick, groggy, red. It’s coated in fog, but a man I’ve never seen before always walks through it. He says his name is Henry, he starts talking about my worries and pain. It’s always the same—he says he’s ‘there to help me’, he’s there to ‘take away the pain because he knows what it’s like’. I truly don’t know what has caused my subconscious to create things like this but I guess I’m just tired of feeling like shit.

I don’t even know why I bother keeping a journal around. Sometimes I feel like I won’t even be here in the future to reminisce on the shitty days like this. Why would I even? I guess it’s just easier to write these things down than having to say them out loud. I thought I’d be able to make my sister, aunt, cousin, and friends proud, but I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for this.

Closing the diary, the blonde places it back in the shoebox you hid it in. Pushing it back under your bed, standing from the place he sat. A satisfied smirk on his face.

He’d been following your turmoil closely, knowing that this was just the turning point. Your struggles were feeding into his plans. This entry was straw that broke the camels back—your vulnerabilities, your fears, and your desperations. It was almost too easy.

“Your suffering is almost poetic,” Henry said to himself, walking out of your room, your house, determined to take action now. He planned to finally confront you, to force you to acknowledge the full extent of what your destiny could be with his help—with what he had to offer.

[north-noire]

do you have some headcanons about henry and charlie in your au you can share? :3

Hello hello, anon! Thanks for the ask! Sorry that this took so long! Okay, first things first: Yes, they're both neurodivergent/autistic. While they're both unaware of that fact (because let's be real, the 1980s time period wasn't as aware of that kind of thing as we do now), they both do kinda understand that they both have their little routine everyday and sometimes they both need some time to themselves. It's that little mutual silence they have with each other when they both work together on their own thing. They both also don't like crowds, but they've just learned to deal with it. And of course, they both love learning about each other's interests and tend to help each other with them! More headcanons under the cut + bonus for Puppet-Charlie and Henry stuff!

Some more headcanons around 1983-era:

Henry and Charlie both love tinkering with their interests - Henry tinkers with robots and inventions and gadgets and whatnot, while Charlie tends to tinker with her old toys and usually modifies them to her liking.

Henry was a former toymaker that worked in a relatively modest toy company before he had agreed to partner with William's business venture, so he'd sometimes make her toys when she was younger. Charlie also grew up with some stopmotion movies and shows that she'd loved, so when Henry gave her a camera on one of her birthdays, she would make stopmotion animations using the toys he gives her and sometimes modifies the toys to be more flexible, or to change their appearance for the stopmotion animation. Charlie also becomes interested in things like puppeteering and miniature sculpting.

They both love drawing! Henry's art has more boxy and mechanical concepts and the like because of his work and just mostly drafting stuff (sometimes he draws people, usually doesn't end up liking them), while Charlie just draw concepts for her little puppets/miniatures, similarly mechanical like her father's, and has a hard time drawing people.

Henry starts to cook more after his wife's late passing for the sake of Charlie, since Charlie tended to miss her mom's cooking. He tries his best. Charlie usually helps him!

Henry makes sure to attend Charlie's baseball games.

They definitely had went to Disneyland at least once, courtesy of William. They both had a grand old time there!

Charlie's flannel shirt was a hand-me-down from Henry's! She loves matching with her father, so she adopted it for herself. Whenever Henry sketches/works on the animatronics, Charlie just sits down and watches her father work/draw. Henry doesn't mind, and usually asks about a few ideas or concepts he has and asks Charlie if it's interesting.

BONUS: Post 1987 Puppet-Charlie and Henry stuff!

Henry learns to sew more clothing to reuse Charlie's old clothes so Puppet-Charlie could get to wear some of her past outfits if she wanted to. Thrift stores and garage sales are their best friends!

Puppet-Charlie sometimes constricts herself around her father. She's clingy, but Henry doesn't mind at all.

Puppet-Charlie doesn't really need to sleep, so if Henry falls asleep or needs to sleep, she watches over him.

Henry and Puppet-Charlie used to hate long drives. Now they've learned to love it.

Rainy days on the other hand... it's complicated.

Eating "together" was pretty hard for them at first (since Henry is the only one eating), but after some time, they eventually gotten used to it.

Puppet-Charlie had attempted to drive, and she's still learning with Henry's guidance! Henry is just scared because Puppet-Charlie tended to always miss the stop-lights/signs.

Henry retro-fitted an actual jack-in-the-box music box so that Puppet-Charlie can listen to it whenever she wants.

The only times that Puppet-Charlie haven't been weirdly remarked to (by teens and adults anyway, most kids are intrigued/awed by Puppet-Charlie) is Halloween. Both Henry and Puppet-Charlie just kind of deals with it and had gotten used to it. It's not like Henry doesn't get weird remarks either from carrying/walking around with this tall lanky "daughter", so they mostly avoid people unless necessary.

Well, this is how much I can sort of recall at the moment, if I'm revealing more and more, you'll likely find out in more chapters of the fic! If you've made it this far, well, congratulations, and thank you for taking the time to read through ALL this! I hope this answers your question, anon!

[greenfiend]

i just read your time travel theory and all i keep thinking about is how in back to the future 2 marty and doc travel to the future and biff finds the time machine and works it in his favor so when marty and doc travel back to present time everything is wrong and they have to travel all the way to the beginning. have you had any thoughts on such a twist? (by the way i love all your theories and you blow my mind with every single one)

Short answer: a big huge YES!!!!!!

I actually allude to this idea in this post!

I believe that we have already seen aspects of the show inspired by Back to the Future Part II.

For example: newspapers indicating different timelines. Just one example is the differences between the Will articles… the Henry-Edward Creel articles are another major example of this. -> click here for info on that. Credit to @aemiron-main for these amazing finds.

Another one is the Dustin and Mike walkie-talkie scene- it’s a reference to the first sequel of BttF (since it was the only one of the movies where they used walkie-talkies!).

Now for some stuff I think we WILL see referenced from the movie…

Now, I believe it’s very telling that they put “William” rather than “Billy” on the gravestone and that they played the song “Dear Willy” in the background of this scene. They are obviously alluding to the other William here as well, and possibly to a separate timeline where he died on November 6th, 1983. Not unlike how George Mcfly was murdered in the alternate 1985 in Back to the Future part II.

If true, then I’m even more inclined to believe that Lonnie is the #1 suspect. Lonnie being our Biff… and possible step father to Will…

Look at their similarities… “[He] always did have a way with women.” 🤢

Then, of course, we must have a scene like this one.

The alternate timeline!!! There’s absolutely at least one of these, possibly more. For this scene, I like to envision Dustin being the one to explain this to everyone.

Now for my favourite idea…

Our characters travelling back to a previous moment within the show! Ah… movie magic. I cannot tell you how much I love this concept. Blew my mind as a child. Look at how the events of the first Back to the Future movie were occurring as a second Marty was on a separate mission desperately avoiding detection from his past self. Time travel can be confusing as heck but damn it’s fun.

I will say that I do not think time travel within Stranger Things will occur in the same way as it does in Back to the Future. It’ll be different somehow. I mention a pretty *wild* idea here.

Now. Here are some things I’m nearly confident about:

Will will (or has) travelled to the past. SO much evidence of this, it’s nearly undeniable.

Mike *somehow* is their “ride” back in time. This is heavily implied when Dustin calls up Mike for a “ride” while the DeLorean is shown on the big screen.

Multiple timelines exist, and we will likely see them or at least learn about them.

Vecna, Mike, and Will are the characters most associated with time and time travel.

Ahhh I love time travel and Back to the Future. The Duffers clearly do too! Back to the Future has been referenced since episode one when we first saw Will in that classic red “life preserver”. The references go deeper than most people realize too. I gotta say too, the whole play being set in the 50s, with the parents as teens, is very reminiscent of Back to the Future as well!

I would not be surprised at all if they referenced this classic sequel a fair bit in the final season!

[nanabansama]

hiii it’s tsutsumi-kurose!! would to hear your thoughts on the new chapter!! do you have any thoughts on who the people in the red house were this time? do you think they were really trying to help mitsuba? they seem different from the kannagi we originally saw in the red house arc! also just any thoughts overall bc wow what an ending!!

Hiii!!!! 💖💖💖

I really should write a proper post but...let's see! Yes, the new victims are mysterious, aren't they? I enjoyed the twist that they aren't evil and actually tried to help Kou and Mitsuba. At first their "Get Out"s seemed malicious, but then you realize it was a warning... (so yes, I do think they tried to help Mitsuba!)

I also don't think it's weird to say this is Amane's doing. This was his house, and these people weren't here in the old timeline, to our knowledge. And yes, I'm also thinking these aren't exactly kannagi...

That said, notice where they are. They're submerged in water. They're gurbling and glubbing out their words.

As I've talked about before, the Entity beneath the Red House is associated with water. Water bubbles float around its speech bubbles. It lives in a well. The kannagi were sacrificed into a water-filled chasm. Given that we are in the Red House itself, I am very confident when I say the Entity is a part of all this. (Very obvious conclusion, I know, lol.)

Anyway, I have to imagine these people are similar to Kou in that they were lured to the Red House by Amane. What the victims have in common I'm not sure... however given the fact that Kou was drawn here after being possessed by "Tsukasa-kun" it wouldn't surprise me if these people also came into contact with Tsukasa-kun.

But if that is the case that is extremely concerning... are there a bunch of missing person cases linked to people from Kamome Academy? Or does Tsukasa-kun have a farther reach than we thought?

Let's also remember Amane's age. If I remember correctly the latest we've seen him alive was as a teacher spreading rumors in 1983. It seems like he died that year, or soon after anyway, given his relatively young appearance in Chapter 118.

This could mean he's been at this forrr... more than 30 years?! With over 10 victims at that. It's not too crazy then if he's been getting away with it and that people think the missing person cases are unrelated...especially since the perpetrator, Yugi Amane, is probably considered dead...

One thing I found interesting is some of the victims are rather tall. And some rather short. Either this is a stylistic choice or the victims are all ages. Kind of mysterious! It's hard to imagine elementary schoolers being connected to Kamome Academy, for example, and these beings are really quite short...

They are very vaguely defined though so maybe it's not important. I mean, they don't even have legs.

Regardless, it's at least safe to assume the victims are all from the city of Kamome. Which isn't too weird considering the Red House from the old timeline also had many victims from Kamome.

Anyway, as I was saying earlier the victims are submerged in water which is famously linked to the Entity. I really don't think it's too crazy if these were victims sacrificed to the Entity in order to grant a wish. The Red House has always been a wish-fulfilling house, after all; from when Tsukasa sacrificed animals to it to give presents to Amane, to when Tsukasa asked Kou if he would sacrifice Nene to get his mom back.

It would be strange if the Red House of the new timeline didn't have anything to do with wishes! But that's time paradoxes for you I suppose.

Much to think about...I'm sure I'm overlooking something obvious right now. But I really loved the chapter! Threw a big curveball at me with Amane having a hole for a face. It tickles me that the twins still resemble each other so much, despite the age difference.

Really curious about the ways in which they are different though... and how much of their true selves remain... hmm... still kinda hoping we might find Tsukasa in the Red House!!! Feels wrong without him tbh. Thanks for the ask!!

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Aww, I'm glad I could provide the details you're looking for! ^.^ I can assure you, anon, that people know about Axl and Erin, they just don't like talking about it, and I don't blame them lol. It is a rather complex matter. One that is depressing, to say the least. I will try my best to explain what happened in their relationship while analyzing the outcome(s) on why certain situations unfolded the way they did. The reasoning wasn't "just because he or she felt like it." There's much more to the story. And I'll try to provide both perspectives so we have a clear, broader picture.

After I'm done sharing this novel, I don't want to discourage you, or have you view Axl in a negative light. He was going through his own personal issues at the time, and while that doesn't justify what he did to Erin, it explains how broken of a man he was, trying to fight off his own demons, only to be consumed by them.

**trigger warnings for sexual abuse, rape, and violence**

Erin Everly and Axl Rose

In 1986, Erin and Axl met at an L.A. party. This was Erin's first relationship while it was Axl's second relationship. His first girlfriend, also high school friend, was Gina Siler, and they dated between 1982-1983. Since Erin didn't have any sexual encounters with other boys prior, she wasn't very experienced in "pleasing" Axl. I can imagine she lost her virginity to him, but it sounded like Axl wasn't willing to teach her how to please him in the bedroom. Instead, Axl wanted another girl to tutor Erin, but the idea never came to fruition, probably because Erin would've been against the idea.

The two lived in an apartment and Erin did modeling on the side to support themselves while Axl was involved in his bands. Erin mentions how Axl had a quick temper and that little things would set him off, like stubbing his toe, being woken up from a phone ringing, or hearing Erin cry in the bathroom. This caused him take out his anger on her. She suspected it was because she was an "easy target." On one occasion, Axl removed all the doors from their hinges in the apartment so he could monitor Erin's movements. During one of their many arguments, Axl, who weighed 140 lbs at the time, pushed an entire piano from the balcony's window. He even yanked telephones from the walls and destroyed various items.

Meegan Hodges-Knight, Slash's then former girlfriend, and Erin's roommate, described some disturbing encounters between the two. "I'd wake up to Erin saying, 'Please, stop. Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, and Axl screaming at her... And then, all of a sudden, he'd come out and he'd like, break all of her really precious antiques, and she would be, 'Please, don't break them, please.' And trying to get them back from him. And he'd push her and he'd break everything he could get his hands on...l remember sleeping and waking up to a crystal flying over my head, shattering on the floor."

One night, while Erin was wearing a see-through tank top and panties, Axl dragged Erin by the hair, kicked her with his cowboy boots, threw a tv set at her, and spit on her. Let me just clarify something here. We don't know what happened on this particular day, or night, that made Axl snap. Maybe it was because Erin was wearing this attire, or maybe something else happened that pissed Axl off, and he took his anger out on his girlfriend. My other guess is... Erin was wearing this while Meegan and Slash were there, and Axl thought it was immodest and had the mindset of, "she should only be wearing this stuff around me, not flaunting it around other people" kind of thing. But I can't confirm, it's only a theory.

Moving on. Erin was in a bikini, probably getting ready to sunbathe, until Axl ordered her to take it off. Once she did he tied her hands to her ankles from behind, put masking tape over her mouth, wrapped one of his bandanas around her eyes, and led her into a closet, naked, where she remained for several hours as Axl talked to one of her friends in the living room. Later, when Axl returned to the closet, he untied Erin, picked her up, and tied her, face down, to a convertible bed. He then raped her anally and forced his cock into her mouth.

Hopefully you're not too traumatized, anon. I would like to switch gears here and talk about Axl's upbringing. I'm not sure how much you know about him, so this might either be new information you haven't heard before, or old news lol.

Axl's childhood was a nightmare and it began when he came out of his mother's womb, literally. His father molested him when he was a baby, then, by the age of two, his dad kidnapped him and anally raped him. His mother left his first dad and found another husband where they had two more kids, Amy and Stuart. But his stepdad wasn't any better. He would take Axl to a museum on multiple occasions and rape him in the men’s bathroom stalls. His stepdad would also beat both him and Amy, even sexually abusing her. As a result of what both his fathers did to him, Axl was terrorized by nightmares throughout his childhood. This abuse also distorted his relationship with how to treat women. It made him view sex as an act of power and how sex leaves other people powerless after the deed is finished.

Axl noted, “I’ve had a lot of hatred for women. Basically, I've been rejected by my mother since I was a baby. She picked my stepfather over me ever since he was around and watched me get beaten by him. She stood back most of the time. Unless it got too bad, and then she'd come and hold you afterward. She wasn't there for me. My grandmother had a problem with men. I've gone back and done the work and found out I overheard my grandma going off on men when I was four. And I've had problems with my own masculinity because of that. I was pissed off at my grandmother for her problems with men and how it made me feel about being a man."

I don't think his mother could've done much by standing up for own children because his stepdad might've beaten her too. And if she did, they all probably would've been living on the streets with no food or a proper roof over their heads. But, again, these are my own speculated thoughts.

Anyways...back to the main lovebirds of this story. In 1987, Axl and Erin attended a barbecue at somebody's house in the Hollywood Hills. One spectator noticed how Axl took his anger out on Erin in public, not being phased by other people watching, as he pulled her hair and beat her up.

On April 27, 1990, Axl showed up at their condo, located above Sunset Strip, unannounced at 4 a.m. He told Erin he had a gun in his car and that if she didn't marry him he'd kill himself. What a way to propose, right? You might be thinking, "He didn't give her a choice. He threatened that decision on her.” I've thought that way about this situation for a while until another thought crossed my mind recently. By this point, Axl and Erin argued a lot. It was like a routine. Axl must've thought Erin didn't love him anymore and if she didn't marry him he had nothing else to live for since the love of his life would leave him. He probably felt like his life didn't matter if he couldn't have her, his sweet child. Luckily, Erin said yes, but she would have to fight to save him.

In the Don't Cry music video you see Axl and Stephanie fighting over a gun. This actually happened between Erin and Axl. Erin was in a physical match, trying to snatch the gun away from him. This went on for a while until Axl decided to let Erin win. So he gave up and let her have the gun, ending the fight.

Erin and Axl’s wedding photo

The two got married and by September Erin found out she was pregnant. They both always wanted to start a family, and this was a sign that their relationship was gonna get better in the future. Unfortunately, that was all short lived when Erin had a miscarriage in October. A few days after finding out, Axl got arrested for hitting his neighbor over the head with a wine bottle.

This event is pretty insane. Axl says his neighbor was "crazy" and that she was an obsessive groupie who played his own music loudly in her room. His neighbor, on the other hand, claimed Axl was the one playing loud music. She confronted him in the hallway that night, at 2 a.m., with a bottle of wine in her hand. I'm not sure how full or empty it was but it seems she was drinking from the bottle and she might've been tipsy. They got into an argument and Axl grabbed her keys, tossing them out his window. Axl claims that after he did that he closed the door and his neighbor started smashing her body against the doorframe, giving herself bruises. However, his neighbor said that after he threw her keys out the window he grabbed the wine bottle, draining the rest on the floor, and smashing it across her head. The police report indicated he emptied the bottle but no shards of glass were on the floor. I guess it was a matter of how hard he hit or not striking her at all.

Axl’s arrest in 1990

In 1991, Erin was cleaning Axl’s CD collection when he snapped at her for doing so. Erin states, "I didn't think I could survive mentally any longer; I was dying inside...At the door I turned around and said, 'I want you to look at me, because you're never going to see me again.’” Erin left Axl. He tried winning her back by writing her letters, sending her flowers, and caged birds for one full year. It was clear the two would never get back together again.

During her testimony in court, Erin reveals that Axl believed her and Stephanie Seymour were sisters in a past life and they were "trying to kill him." She also shared how Axl believed he was possessed by John Bonham. Not only that, Axl told Erin how she was an Indian who killed all their children, and that was the reason why he was so mean to her in this lifetime.

Many people, including Axl, have cited Erin to be the aggressor in the relationship and that Axl was only defending himself. A friend, who agreed to speak for him, conceded that the couple "did have a combative relationship. But," she adds, "Erin portrays herself as the victim and him as the evil aggressor. From what I witnessed, she was the aggressor." Maybe Erin might've pushed Axl's buttons a bit too far, resulting in numerous heated backlashes of shitting on each other. Did Erin not know her limit with Axl or did she know and choose to ignore it until he ruptured?

I have my own thoughts about Erin. I often think Erin was a very naïve, childish girl, who clung onto Axl like a needy puppy, mostly in times when he needed some space.

Even though they are a few years apart, I feel she was emotionally immature for him, whereas Stephanie was emotionally mature. Then there's arguments of how she was the keg to the gunpowder in their relationship. They both did things that hurt each other and they both made mistakes. They're both to blame. They have even acknowledged what went wrong in their relationship. One of the problems was they were both broken and they didn't know how to save each other because their inner kid loved each other too much.

This was Axl and Erin's relationship in a nutshell. You might be mortified at what you just read, but I assure you... Axl is in a much better frame of mind now and he got the help he needed. Erin might not be fully over him yet. I mean, how could she? He was her first true love. In 2013, she did sell all of his love letters, private pictures, clothes, and even his journals. Why she did this, I am not sure. But it was wrong on so many levels. I heard she might be writing her own book which may go into more detail on what else happened in her relationship with Axl. Keep in mind, though, her story is one-sided, as it is through her own perspective and not his. If she publishes it, and people read it, make sure to take into account how he was feeling and what might've provoked him. There's always a reason why shit happens the way it did.

If you have anymore questions or would like to discuss their relationship further, feel free to reach out! I'm curious to hear your own thoughts on this, anon <3

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | p. 10

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1983

Night falls onto Hawkins. The street lamps flicker on. A hopeful Eddie sits amongst the clutter of his living room. One of those street lamps illuminate the Forest Hills Trailer park just enough to cast shadow across each of the tiny trailers littered across the property. Your trailer is the only one of interest to Eddie.

The trailer has been quiet almost all day. In the morning, Eddie recalls Robin’s mother picking you up. There’s no clue what the two of you get up too when you’re together. Shopping. Chatting. Drinking coffee. Coffee is just about as bitter as Eddie feels right about now.

You must have come home for a moment when Eddie wasn’t watching your house, just to take your mom's car out for a joyride. That couldn’t have come off any creepier. Eddie doesn’t normally watch your house. He just waits for the opportunity to come by, since Gareth has already rejected the suggestions that he’s called him about earlier. He won’t say, but Gareth is busy this evening.

Jeff’s line goes straight to his answering machine, so he sighed loudly into the phone and hung up. Hopefully, Jeff hears the message before his mom does. She’ll cry that someone is out to get her. If only she would put away the fiction that these newspapers are printing these days. The Devil hasn’t touched Hawkins, and nor does he exist.

It becomes clear to Eddie that you are also busy this evening. What are you up too? Your mom’s car is gone, so either she has come home quietly for once or you’ve taken the car. Taking lessons from Eddie has boldened your actions. If the cops were to catch you, you would be thrown a heavy fine. The cops don’t pay much attention unless you’re a Munson, it seems.

Eddie kicks a couple empty soda cans trying to plant his feet on the coffee table. It doesn’t bother him any. The remote for the television is just out of his reach, despite having longer limbs. Something he got from his father, Wayne would say. There are a lot of similarities between the two men that Eddie avoids breaking down.

Al Munson is a waste of oxygen. The bastard can’t even be bothered to give him a phone call. He can’t blame Eddie either. Eddie doesn’t have his number. Hell, he doesn’t even know where Al is. Maybe he’ll visit his mom’s grave. Yeah, he found out she’s taking a dirt nap a few months back. It surprised him that this news doesn’t affect him as much. Maybe she should have tried showing up for a birthday.

Eddie dwells until he becomes apart of the living room furniture. The dimness of the room helps rock him into a meditative state. Although, his eyes draw to the parted curtain that he can peak through to see if you’ve come home yet.

The trailer is still dark.

Lights begin to flood the trailer park, and the familiar crunch of gravel has Eddie’s ears perked up. You could be home.

It is not you.

Uncle Wayne is home from a day at the plant. This would be a short visit. He has plans with his coworker, who stays in his car to keep the engine warm.

Ugh.

Eddie sinks back into position on the living room couch. A metal spring prods him in the rear.

Wayne stomps up the front steps of the home, before jangling his key in the lock. His nephew surprises him on the couch. The home is dark enough to be empty. Yet, Eddie sits unsettled amongst the dirt of the living room. Damn. He could have at least cleaned up.

“What are you doing, son?” Wayne begins to shred his work boots to trade them for something less filthy.

“My friends have abandoned me,” Eddie says through a haze of smoke from the joint he had earlier.

Wayne has never reprimanded Eddie for smoking weed in the home because every once in a while Wayne too needs to relax. It’s an unspoken rule between the men to never speak about weed. As long as Wayne doesn’t catch Eddie with a joint, he can ignore the smell, then Eddie is free to do as he pleases. It doesn’t cause him too many problems, and that’s all that matters.

However, if Wayne has the cops at his door for something Eddie has done at two in the morning, Wayne will rain hellfire on the tiny trailer home. Eddie will not become his father.

The theatrics have become normal to Wayne, so when the boy throws his gangly limbs across all parts of the couch, he snorts. You must have plans.

Eddie doesn’t have much of a brain when it comes to you. The thoughts are crumbled into a pile of mush. If he’s not careful, Eddie’s tongue might drop from between his lips. When he starts panting, Wayne will have cause for concern.

“You’re never home on a Saturday,” Wayne points out.

“I have nothing to do,” he sighs.

His uncle mutters, “so you’re sitting in the dark?”

“Are you going senile on me, old man?” Eddie lifts his head.

“Watch it, boy,” uncle Wayne points a thick finger at him. “I’m heading out. Long day at the plant. Er- clean something. Would you?”

Eddie groans.

“Love you too,” Wayne stacks a ball cap over his head, before leaving his nephew. There’s no way that he’ll actually clean. But, Wayne tries.

It’s his boredom that Eddie does get up, and he does begin to wipe the coffee table of beer cans, soda cans and old cups that never made their way to the sink. He doesn’t enjoy living in a pigsty, but the maid is away on a vacation. Chuckling to himself, Eddie finds the letter from his school that he’s been hiding from Wayne. Granted, underneath a stack of other mail isn’t the best hiding spot. Eddie was in a rush when he saw the blasted letter. It had come flat and obscene. Bold red lettering spells out ‘IMPORTANT’ then follows ‘To the Guardian of Eddie Munson,’ as if they don’t know Wayne Munson by now. Everyone knows the soiled Munson name.

Honestly the town humors him. Even pretending to have an ounce of care for Eddie is laughable. They just want to bend his mind into something socially acceptable. The long hours behind a school desk, bouncing from classroom to classroom has left Eddie enough time to think. If he ends up behind a corporate desk, twiddling his thumbs as the hours creep by and worrying that his typing speed will get him the boot from tight wad boss, Eddie might just loose his mind.

This year he might not graduate. It’s too soon to tell, but his teachers all give him the gray stare. Eddie’s dad brought an estranged relationship to the halls of Hawkins High School when he attended. All of the Munson’s to follow would be the least impressive to them. Lucky for Eddie, he’s the only burden that Hawkins will ever have to deal with. Well, unless his dad was able to charm himself into another woman’s pants and she produces another Munson. That’s one step closer to world domination.

There is a knock coming from the front door leading Eddie to believe that Wayne has forgotten his keys. He arms himself with a crass joke about Wayne’s age. When he swings the door open, however, Eddie finds his friend Jeff bouncing at his heels about something.

“What’s up?”

Jeff allows himself into the trailer knowing that Eddie doesn’t mind hosting. After all, he’s come all this way just to be told to go home? Please!

“You got food?” Jeff beelines for the kitchen. He doesn’t have to open the fridge to know it’s empty. Neither Eddie nor his uncle are famous for their cooking. No, he opens the freezer where there are stacks upon stacks of frozen meals. It begins to get a bit sad to Jeff that Eddie hardly gets the chance to sit down to a warm family meal.

That’s the privilege his own family holds. Mom works a nine to five at a beauty salon, and dad delivers papers. They hardly get a moment to see each other, but when they do the family is exactly what you see on television. Well, maybe not exactly. Hey! That’s what he gets for being Black in America.

“Turkey dinner,” Jeff finds the meal he wants, and before turning on the microwave he calls to Eddie, “roll up a joint! Turn on the tv!”

Eddie only lets Jeff boss him around because he’s inside the home. There’s no need to rip his head off. Or, maybe Eddie likes that Jeff is so comfortable in his little shack. They’ve only known each other for a few years. Shorter than Gareth. He still has to tell Gareth that it’s alright to poke around for food, or that there are extra blankets in the cubby down the hall.

“I’m gonna use your bathroom,” Jeff turns the corner. “That one in the microwave is for you. I know you ain’t eat. I’ll warm up another one for me.”

This makes Eddie roll his eyes. But, his stomach disagrees. The fact is Eddie hasn’t eaten much today. If not for watching your house, Eddie might have paid more attention to his own surroundings.

Eddie pops in a movie that he’s seen a dozen and a half times. It’s a comedy. That pairs well with how high they are about to be within the hour.

The faucet switches on in the bathroom, and Eddie has perfected a joint for them to share. He races to the kitchen to pull out the dinner in the microwave. Hissing as the tips of his fingers sear across the tin dish. You’d think he’d know better by how many of these things he’s eaten in his past seventeen years of living, but Eddie would be one to burn his fingers off.

Eddie does slide in another frozen meal after he takes the one that Jeff has warmed for himself.

By the time he makes rounds back to the couch, Jeff has taken a lighter to the joint. A cloud of thick gray smoke passes through the air. The joint is handed to Eddie.

“Any word from Gareth? He’s missing a great night,” Eddie half jokes.

Jeff shakes his head, “I called the house, but his mom says that he’s on a date.”

“A date?” Eddie scrunches his nose in thinking. “He told me he was busy.”

“Yeah, on a date.”

“He lied to me?” He didn’t know whether he should feel hurt, angry or maybe a bit of pride. To lie to Eddie is the greatest sin.

“Who cares? Pass that to me,” Jeff says with an open palm.

For the sass, Eddie takes a second hit. The weed will make him forget this conversation even happened. But, while he can plant his two feet on earth.

“‘s busy too,” he throws your name in the ring, “you don’t think they. . .?”

Jeff tilts his head at Eddie. Indeed, your home is quiet for a Saturday. Even Jeff knows you favor Saturday’s for their potential. You like reading as many books as you can get your hands on. Saturday’s are prime real estate for book reading according to you.

The idea has crossed his mind. How Gareth has been acting towards you? You haven’t exactly shot him down. Since coming home from the camping trip this summer, you’ve been much quieter, whether during band rehearsals or whenever the guys get together. You have a misty glow about you too. It’s possible, but- would you really go as far as to date Gareth?

Something blasts on television. The characters are swarming each other in clouds of dust, and ridiculous plots. Jeff and Eddie throw themselves back in a fit of laughs. The plant they’ve been sucking on begins to coat their skin, and bathe in their blood. They’ve forgotten their conversation, and everything becomes quite silly just then.

-> <-

A bowling ally to you, always meant spending a fair time with your mother. She taught you how to hold the ball in your little fingers, and she helped guide you down the right lane. You could feel how cherry your cheeks would get when you knocked even one pin down. Success! Now, years later, the same nostalgia washes over you. Even though you don’t have your mother to play with anymore, you find a new companion in Gareth. He’s much handsomer than your mother too.

When you came back from the camping trip, you couldn’t stop your mind from racing about him. It’s silly to have such a school girl crush on the one person you thought despised you. He admitted to his jealously over the phone one night, and asked if you wanted to go bowling with him the following weekend.

You’ve now forgotten about the tornado that zipped through your room tonight. The perfect outfit couldn’t be described, nor could it be found. Although, Gareth disagrees. You’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

Gareth holds his breath as you throw your last ball down the lane. If you hit both pins down now, you win the round. Clack! The pins scrape the lane.

The dance you do at the end of the lane warms Gareth’s heart like hot chocolate in the winter. You spin around gleefully.

“Great game,” he says.

Your stomach growls, “pizza break?”

The pizza parlor is just a step off the bowling lanes. Crowds are thick at this time, and Gareth slots his hand into yours to keep from losing you. Hopefully, he misses how pink you’ve gone. He doesn’t.

Gareth orders your favorite slice of pizza, but not without a rebuttal of how plain a cheese slice of pizza can be. You disagree. There’s something soothing about eating just the cheese and the bread. Especially, if they’ve seasoned the crust right.

To be honest, the pizza isn’t even warm. Gareth can read that on your face the moment you take your first bite. Then, he suggests you head somewhere different for dinner that isn’t this cheap pizza crap. You convince him that it’s perfectly fine - not wanting to spend money neither of you have. Just getting into the bowling alley alone is expensive. The dollars ran you each six bucks that Gareth happily forked over. You’re priceless.

This might be the first date, but Gareth already wants the dates to continue. If you’ll have him. You spend the evening getting to know each other a bit better, while avoiding the family question. Gareth is the only child between his mother and his absent father. Unlike you and your father, Gareth regularly visits his in Indianapolis. Gareth’s mother and father split on the difference of opinions about where to live. She wanted to be in a small town, and he didn’t want to leave his corporate position.

“Two Christmases,” Gareth lightens the mood.

You snicker, even though you hardly get one Christmas. Would your mom even be home this year? It may be another Christmas spent with the Munson’s. Last year, Wayne brought you over since your mom was passed out on the couch and had completely forgotten the holiday. You shared laughs over a roast that Wayne worked extra hours for. It was one of the best holidays in years.

“I’m really into journaling,” you tell Gareth when he asks about what you want to do with your life. Honestly, the thought has crossed your mind. Nothing creases your brows more than when you have a pen and a piece of paper between your fingers.

Gareth finishes off a bite of his last slice, wipes his hands on a napkin and then asks, “is that why you’re always nose deep in those diary looking things?”

You flush. It’s true. Wherever you are - school or home - you always carry around a notebook to jot down - well, anything. Although, you didn’t know you had been so obvious about it. Humans are so interesting in their average life. Do we ever really stop to think about what we are doing? The emotions that we have? You’re quick to jot this moment in your head to put on paper later.

“No one has ever asked about my writing before,” you smile at this, “but, it’s all silly. I don’t know if any of it’s important.”

“I’d love to read them someday,” he offers.

“It’s not done yet,” you shy.

Gareth nods understandingly, “when it’s finished.”

Gareth knows that Eddie is fond of getting those journals for you to write in. The exchange is polite and friendly. Some of them are more colorful and more loud than others. They come in all colors. Gareth can see when you’re getting close to being done with them when the pages gain weight with the ink from your pen. He’s always been curious to read between the lines if the written word wasn’t so private.

The end to your writing has yet to fall into your lap. Pieces of the puzzle you’ve begun can’t seem to fall directly into place. It will take years for you to sort through just the corner pieces. The center is what really matters. It’s the glue that holds the story together. The pages open to your inner most deep thoughts. You’ve hardly begun to untangle the web that lives inside your brain.

Life might be much easier for you if you could reach between your ears to prod at the sticky flesh that your brain has to offer. Along the muscle, you might find the words that you’re desperately trying to say. That goes the same for paper, and for real life.

Anxieties creep against your spine about the future. You won’t let them rattle you for long. The boy in front of you distracts these thoughts from surfacing when he dashes his fingers across the back ridges along your hand. Your face softens, though you’re not sure when it got so stiff.

Gareth can read you well. Something he’s picked up on over the years. Your face gets so tight in the middle. Even your nose gets scrunched when you’re overthinking. To distract you, Gareth doesn’t want to scare you by word of mouth. He’s much gentler to you. He cares for you. Already, you’ve made a mark on him that no other blonde, brunette or - well - anyone could. You’ve known each other for so long, yet this past summer Gareth has really opened his eyes.

The way you smell captivates him. He’s entranced by the way that vanilla could become so intricate and intimate along your skin. You’ve certainly sprayed yourself with just enough perfume before you met him here tonight. Not only this, but you’ve freshly washed. The skin on your hands is still soft and plush. Your bracelet jangles against the surface of the table. When it does, you adjust the heart charm facing the ceiling, so to not interfere on your date.

Date. Gareth could have done summersaults when you agreed to tonight. It won’t be something he admits to you, but he did a few laps in his living room. His mom caught him. Surely something that will be brought up in the future.

The date continues. Eventually, the slices of pizza disappear leaving only sad crumpled plates. Gareth folds his in half, before throwing his and yours away. Another round of bowling follows.

“I want a rematch!” Gareth declares in a teasing and a joking sort of tone.

You play along, and challenge, “I can’t wait to kick your ass twice!”

“Bring it on!”

This round is different. Gareth has his eye locked on first prize. The technique he uses to swing the ball back is focused and precise. You want to ask if he’s ever bowled on a team. But, soon you’re up. Maybe you’re out of your element. Perhaps you quicken your shot, just so you can watch the way Gareth moves during his turn. The muscles in his arm strain and flex in his swing. When did he get those?

You have to pull away, and start thinking with your head.

The score is set. Either knock these pins down and win, or- Clang! Crash! Bang! You droop your head in defeat. Gareth has taken the win!

“Woohoo!” Gareth victory laps in front of the lane. The dance is a bit corny and embarrassing, but he likes to see the look on your face. Twisting your false frown into a congratulatory smile, you can’t help but join him.

Gareth slows down when you get close to gun. The faint Italian seasoning still bites your taste buds from the pizza you had earlier. Hot breath hits his lips. He initiates a kiss.

Your hands find the zipper of his open sweater on either side. Pulling him closer, he stumbles before finding perchase at your hips. You couldn’t stay there for long too engrossed in each other. A round of hollers break the moment. They’re some of the jerky popular kids from school.

Their hollers are sarcastic and mean.

Gareth doesn’t want to let them spoil the night, so he holds onto your hand before squeezing his way through the crowd. There is also an arcade buried in the bowling alley. Somewhere just the left of the mediocre cafeteria.

The arcade is much less popular - surprising. As soon as you step to the first machine, you understand why.

“It needs quarters,” you tap the buttons.

Gareth ransacks his wallet, “I’ll be right back.”

Gareth zips off to the half-alert teen behind the register where they got the pizza from. You wait patiently observing. The way Gareth tips his head to him, and accepts the change. He even passes a genuine ‘thank you’ that sits just right inside your head as a lasting memory of why you like him.

The arcade games are quite fun. You’re not good at any of them. Gareth says with practice you could be a real pro.

“Is that your way of telling me there is a second date,” you guide yourself deeper and deeper through the maze. This is your second attempt at Dragon’s Lair. One of Gareth’s favorites - go figure.

Gareth points to the screen, “watch out!”

The knight you play as becomes quickly squashed and buried by a thick layer of stone. He’s not going to make it out of that one with a few stitches.

Gareth shares a hearty laugh with you that warms you up. He surprises you by pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then following this by whispering your ear.

“A second date would be nice.”

You blush, “we haven’t finished the first one.”

Gareth hums. “I know. And, I miss you already.”

When he reaches back into his pocket, he comes to find that you’re all out of quarters. The night has been more than fun than any night before. Your cheeks burn from the smile that couldn’t be swiped off your face.

As you leave the building, hand in hand, Gareth tilts the watch band on his wrist. The time reads exactly nine in the evening. You’re supposed to be home soon.

“I had fun tonight,” he kicks the ground of it’s loose gravel.

You nod in agreement, “I did too. Thank you for this. And, I’ll call you.”

Tonight, you had brought your mom’s station wagon. You want to offer Gareth a ride, but he insists his mom will pick him up shortly. Saying this has Gareth going pink in the face. As soon as he can, he will learn to drive. He likes the image of him behind the wheel, while you sit comfortably in the passenger seat.

Before his mom can pull up to the bowling alley to embarrass him through and through, Gareth presses one more kiss to your lips. Your hands reach for the back of his head, just slightly. The pair break off in time for a familiar face to show up this evening.

Out of anyone this evening, neither of you wanted to be drilled and questioned by your shared friend Eddie Munson. The man who could squash Gareth under his thumb like a bug. You didn’t want to hide your blossoming relationship with Gareth from him. You just wanted time to yourself. There isn’t anything to talk about yet. Although, you could give Robin a call tonight and chat her ear off about how much of a gentleman Gareth has been. She is of the belief that this might become a bad idea because to her neither of you have anything in common. Nonetheless, she’s supportive of your experiments.

Anyway, the man you find yourself running into is probably the second worse case scenario because he could easily let it slip that he’s seen you at the bowling alley. Eddie’s uncle Wayne stops his conversation with his coworker John. The men were sharing work stories when he spots you making eyes at the boy next to you.

Ah, he remembers date nights well. Wayne could prattle on about the times he took out fare Rosie Davis in his younger days. They went to hot spots like the bowling alley too, or the diner. He couldn’t call her the one that got away though. That spot remains for dear Cloudy. Ah, Cloudy. Of course, he will spare the details. The woman was like a dream to him - she still reaches parts of his memory that he loves to pry out every once in a while.

Wayne pulls back a bit when he recognizes Eddie’s friend Gareth standing beside you. The two are usually together on Saturdays, which makes more sense as to why his young nephew is taking over his living room in the dark. Had he known you were out . . . together? Bah! None of his buisness. You kids are hard to keep track of these days.

“Well,” Wayne acknowledges, “good evening, you two.”

You fumble nervously, “hi, Wayne.”

Gareth flicks his wrist to wave hello. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Oh, John,” Wayne politely introduces the man. “These are a couple of Eddie’s friends.”

“Nice to meet you!” The man beside him is Wayne’s age. He has a hat perched askew atop of his head to hide the balding patch missing of course curly hair that’s throwing off his age. It’s not doing its job, but that’s not for you to point out.

Wayne flicks his gaze to the bowling alley, “it’s crowded in there tonight?”

“It is,” the parking lot is nearly full, and people are starting to park on the street.

This causes the man to lift his eyebrow, and dips his head to your height. A flimsy smile rests on his face.

“It’s probably so crowded that I’ve forgotten the faces I’ve seen tonight, hm?”

Wayne already has the clue by the stiffness of your back that Eddie probably has no idea that you’re here tonight. Especially, that you’re together. He’s getting old, but he’s not any stupider now than he was yesterday. Besides, there may be a day that you will return the favor to him. Not that he expects you too.

Your faces twist into something of gratitude.

“Have a good evening, you two,” Wayne turns to John, and with a pat on his back they walk into the bowling alley.

Gareth sighs, “that was close.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Well, bye Gareth.”

“Bye,” he waves.

Just as you step off the curb to make your way through the parking lot, a blue sedan pulls in beside you carefully. The window rolls down, and Gareth’s mom shouts to you.

“You look so pretty tonight!”

You turn on your heel, “thank you, Miss Jones.”

Gareth’s worst nightmare has come true. His mom’s best trait has become his worst enemy. She does well at her job where her spunk and toothy grin do her well amongst her coworkers. Even people she sees on the street, she’ll make new friends in mere moments. While he adores her theatrics, he does wish she could know when to pipe down.

“Did you kids have fun tonight?” She whips her head back and forth between her son slotting into the front seat of her car, and you dancing on your heels and toes in the parking lot. “Oh! You should come by tomorrow. We’re making ziti! Ever heard of it? I was watching the television. I love my cooking television shows. I learn so much. Anyway, this lady says something about her Italian dog - or maybe it was her grandma - no, it had to be her grandma. Dogs can’t cook,” she only pauses to belt out a loud and nasally sort of laugh. “Can you imagine? The hysteria!”

If anything, Gareth was trying to spare you the ongoing rambles that his mother could go through. The woman didn’t have an off button. When he told her that he could use a ride to the bowling alley, she was extremely ecstatic to be having a mother and son night out. He disclosed that he would be meeting a friend there, and she responded with a suggestive ‘oh!’ The questions began. She asks if you’re a girl, then asks if he knows what condoms are. Hell, by the end of the conversation you and he were already married and making her grandchildren.

The woman is colorful to say the least.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie!” Gareth didn’t listen in very closely, but by the sounds of it, you’re coming over tomorrow.

Gareth couldn’t be more thrilled that his mom hasn’t scared you off.

You wave one more time, before taking off towards your car that’s parked just a few spots away from the front of the bowling alley.

“I’ll have to find those photo albums,” she mutters to herself.

“Mom,” Gareth whines, “no!”

“What? I can’t show your girlfriend how cute you were as a baby? This is going to be so much fun!” She taps the steering wheel in front of her, then coos. “My baby has a girlfriend!”

“We’ve been on one date!”

“She’s going to look gorgeous in white one day, don’t you think? Is she more of an ivory or a cream? I’m just so excited!”

-> <-

[to be continued]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo

[lovelyatomicpeace]

Beyond the masks, charapter two

Meeting under the rain

November 7, 1983

Bip

Bip

Bip

The sound of the alarm clock echoed throughout the room too loudly for those early hours, causing you to whimper under the mound of blankets where the high-pitched sound of the alarm clock made its way through the morning silence, like an annoying insect that insisted on disturbing your sleep: the room was shrouded in a halo of darkness, with the curtains barely up, allowing very little light in. With a sigh of resignation, you reached out an arm and grabbed the alarm clock, turning it off firmly. That sound boomed in your head like a drum, but at least it was over. You looked up to look at the time: 7:45. It wasn't bad.

You kicked off the covers and got up slowly to rest your feet on the marble-cold floor and yawning, you dragged yourself into the bathroom to look at your reflection in the mirror: two large dark circles under your eyes widened: you hadn't been able to sleep the previous night as you had so often since that night…

"Ew," you muttered, running your tongue over your white teeth: you needed coffee, but you knew you couldn't make it otherwise you would have wasted your time: slipping on a pair of jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt and sneakers with one last glance at your reflection you hurried down the stairs, grabbing your coat by the sleeve. You preferred to take your bike to school, finding a spot in that parking lot was impossible, better hell. You look again at the watch on your wrist

8:00

"Shit!" it was super early when you woke up and it didn't take you long to get ready, why are you always late? You pedaled as fast as you could is relatively on time you arrived at the building dropping your bike in the bike rack, under everyone's gaze. You couldn't afford to be late again Professor Williams, from geography class, would surely not spare you an afternoon in detention today.

The school was like an island in chaos. The voices of students and teachers mingled in a constant buzz, like the waves of a stormy ocean. You got lost in the crowd, trying not to attract too much attention, the bell rang like an alarm siren causing the crowd to dissolve, In an instant, in the direction of various classes. You ran to get to class on time and managed to slip inside the classroom just before the door closed. The professor gave you a stern look, but decided not to comment on your late arrival, reciprocated by your toothy smile.

The room was full of people talking to each other incessantly: some were scribbling in their books, some were noisily tapping their hubby on the desk in time to the music, and then there were Tommy, Carol and Steve Harrignton: their eyes fell on you the moment you crossed the threshold.

Why was there no mutual affection between you? Well this no one could know, least of all you but of one thing you were certain to throw the first stone was them.Luckily for you, not that you feared them, they could not say or do anything because williams began the class.

You sat at the desk and although you tried to concentrate there was something that distracted your attention like a persistent and annoying thought: The previous night you had been plagued by a nightmare, worse than the other times that made you wake up suddenly having the feeling that someone was watching you from afar, even now the sensation seemed persistent to you and became more and more incisive: almost by instinct you turned around, to see the eyes of the last person you expected pointed at you

Harrington

He had those silly striped shirts that only someone like him could wear (and that only Nancy could like so much) and that hair...well...worse than other days...

You returned his gaze, which was not interrupted at all, arching your eyebrow as if to ask him an intrigued question: why was he staring at you?

At some point, your thoughts were interrupted when the professor asked loudly, "Y/n, did you understand the question?" causing you to turn around in front of him under Tommy and Carol's giggles: all eyes turned to you, waiting for an answer you could not formulate

Great

The sudden knock on the door caused, fortunately, the guys in the classroom to change the direction of their gaze: the door opened allowing the police chief to enter: he was much bigger than you remembered him, with two thick mustaches framing his face and the big cowboy hat covering his head. He positioned himself quite wearily next to the teacher's desk; you were looking out the window many other times police officers from the station came to the school to organize, as they called them "friendly inspections," but today it was for a different reason…

"Y/s can you follow us outside?" Thundered the voice of Hopper deep making you turn sharply toward him with your eyes out of their sockets.

Now everyone was looking at you....

The lights outside the room were stronger making you close your eyes a little to adjust again: you had your eyebrows lowered so far downward that by dint of holding the position your head had begun to hurt in whirling thoughts. You didn't realize that you had exited the building and reached the middle school nearby

What? To the middle school!!!

Those four have been up to another one of their own, if they've done it big I swear to them...wait why call me?

You arrived outside the president's office, and to allow you in, Hopper threw the door wide open: sitting on the white couch in the large, brightly lit room were Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, and Will? Where was Will?. Standing by the studio curtains there is Joyce who continued to nibble her fingers anxiously

You could tell something was wrong

"Guys well..." the principal began, "Will...unfortunately didn't come home last night. Is mom thinks he's missing..." the principal continued in a calm voice.

What?

Will was missing? I took him home.

Thoughts of the previous night resurfaced in your head making the sudden sense of nausea grow even more. Hopper started asking the boys questions with a threatening attitude from which, however, he was able to glean little information, as usual they were all talking at once and nothing could be understood. Then the noises in the room ceased and the gazes turned to you.

You were seized with remorse

"What about you? What can you tell us?" Hop asked questioningly-you looked at Joyce with tears at the edge of your eyes, the whole situation seemed so surreal.

"I...I..." you stammered "I was the last one to see Will...well to walk him home like I always do" caught up in the agitation

"And..." he incited you.

"Nothing, he took his bike out of the trunk and went inside, I wouldn't have left if he hadn't" you said casting a glance at Joyce seeking her reassurance...silence fell in the room

Of course it wasn't the most a mother could expect from an investigation to find her son, but they knew you had no other information that's why they let you out of the room and in a hurry too.

Once outside you didn't know what to do: getting back to class was surely the least of the problems Williams could put all the notes he wanted on you as well; right now the problem was another Finding Will.

Dustin paced back and forth in the dimly lit hallway, and by his side Lucas rested his head in his hands

"and now what do we do” croaked Mike.

"Well here we have to find our friend" said Dustin as if it was something normal, of course you knew it was right but the idea did not appeal to you at all in fact it was synonymous with danger

"No, no, no wait guys, you, WE, are not going to do anything at all. I know Will is your friend , but the police are enough!" At that moment the adults left the room: you left the 3 alone so you could approach Joyce, stopped her by the arm and looking into her eyes you said:

"Will will return home, I swear I will do everything I can to find him..." as if to apologize and let her know you were not involved in this whole situation: Joyce leaned forward to exchange a hug with you that you were reluctant to give at first.

A weight had been lifted off you; at least her mom had faith in you, and that was already a big step forward.

She put her hand on your cheek and with a flickering smile walked away along with as Hopper, leaving you alone with the three little boys, again: they looked at you almost pleadingly, you understood that they would not easily get rid of their idea, and bringing your arms crossed over your chest you huffed resignedly

"Into Mr. Clarke "s office, now," Mike ordered.

Running behind them you reached the darkened study: locked inside the children began to confabulate and you watched them curiously, "Assuming Will was kidnapped or escaped, he must surely have lost something in the Mirkwood" explained Mike

"The what?" You asked seriously intrigued but squaring only 3 disapproving glances

"The forest of the lord of the rings" said Lucas as if it was a matter of course.

"Oh well sorry..." you admitted raising a hand.

With a snort Mike resumed speaking "if we really have to find him we have to start from there he can't be far away" indeed he had a point, you were sure you too could find him nearby

"We'll look for him tonight" said the leader of the group.

"Whoa, whoa tonight? How are we going to tell your moms that they surely won't let you out, huh?" They looked at you almost pleadingly knowing what they were getting at

"Oh no, absolutely not. You're not going to use me as an excuse, we understand..."

"We know you want to find him as much as we do, we heard you tell Joyce. I don't have the clavicles but the ears do," Dustin admitted, interrupting you.

And again looking at them you couldn't refuse

"Alright...." you hissed getting smiles from everyone

What a mess you got yourselves into....

After the encounter with the police you had returned to school only to pick up your bike and pedal home again: you couldn't go back inside under everyone's stares and say what had happened, you didn't even know if you could. You would spend hours in your room not even touching a morsel of food (although you had not eaten breakfast): the hole in your stomach was too big to allow you to consume anything. The more you thought that the night before you should have stayed with Will the more guilt plagued you and with it the bile rose in your throat

Why did you leave?

Perhaps also caught up in the excitement the hours passed quickly and darkness fell again on your cluttered room

A slight buzzing interrupted the tranquility and then a metallic voice recited:

"Gold boss, gold boss here do you receive me?…. I repeat gold boss here, do you receive me? Over" Dustin's voice hissed through the walkie talkie the 4 children had given you in Christmas 1981

"YES" shouted you, Lucas and Mike from the other end of the device in different parts of town.

"Well you should say step before closing communication others..."

"Stop it Dust," Lucas's voice: when I crack a smile, the first of the day.

"The operation Will can start" this was the signal you were waiting for from Mike, you jumped out of bed and running out you got on the saddle to reach his house, you had opted for the bicycle because otherwise the car would make too much noise outside their house. You arrived pedaling as fast as you could: you had to catch Mike and meet up with the other two toward the end of the road.

You arrived outside their house where the boy was already waiting for you and before you left you noticed the figure of a boy, younger, climbing, awkwardly, to the window of Nancy's room: you couldn't believe it.

If only you had brought your camera with you, you would have been able to capture this surely embarrassing moment: the king of Hawkins high hanging awkwardly from a window. You let go a laugh that had stuck in your chest causing him to turn sharply to notice your presence

"Seriously Harrington..." you said laughing and earning a grimace from him.

"Fuck y/s" you rolled your eyes and pedaled away.

The photo spot in your backpack was definitely a reminder....

Albeit slightly late you arrived at the two boys and got only scolding from Dustin, "Keep pedaling Henderson," you told him to get him to stop talking, under silent thanks from the others....

A short time later you arrived at the gates of the woods you left your bicycles on the asphalt: the rain had begun to beat hard on the ground making the smell of wet earth rise to your nose, which you didn't mind at all; what bothered you most was being soaked from head to toe, to follow those boys who didn't even have a trail. You had been walking nonstop for half an hour, and what's more, without finding that it belonged to Will

Suddenly, however, the sound of a broken branch made your ears perk up; you turned toward the boys, who had remained behind you, bringing your index finger straight to your nose and lips to let them know that they had to shut up at once

And so they did...

With your flashlights pointed forward you approached toward the area where I noise was intensifying and with it the beating of your heart against your chest…

From behind the leaves appeared a little girl: she might have been the same age as the 3, perhaps a year younger. She had very short hair that was almost shaved to nothing, only a long yellow T-shirt that barely covered her slender game and her eyes closed from the annoying light coming into her face

Do you think that site stood in a while observing her, weirded you is scared her....

"Guys I think the mission can end here," you said without an edge of emotion: fortunately this time the children shared your thought, earning you everyone's approval. As they walked away to return to their bicycles you extended a hand toward the strange little girl in front of you: surely you would not have left her in the rain…

She rested her little fingers in yours and together you returned to the bike

What a night that would present itself…

Guyss here there is the second part of the story i hope u can enjoy it😎

[thisisntmyrightera]

She's Home -Nikki Sixx (Douglas Booth x fem reader) Part 4

: Nikki Sixx (Douglas Booth) and Female Reader

Warning: Hard Language, drug mention, adult content,death mention.

By then, before 1983 was over, Nikki had proposed to me and even though we got married in a small ceremony with just a couple of friends, it was just as I had always dreamed, with people who loved us. Following the advice of Don and Tom, our marriage was kept secret, according to both of them, if the fans of Motley Crue found out that one of the members had a wife their fame would not be the same as having 4 single members, and of course, everything was for the band so I accepted.

The story moved quickly, just when I least expected it, Motley Crue was already on tour with Ozzy Osbourne. It had been 4 years since I had met Nikki and the guy who one day gave me a ride home was now getting ready to go on stage in front of thousands of people, it was crazy how We were both fulfilling our dreams, each in our own way and on our own scale, but everything at our own pace.

At that time I had only been able to accompany Nikki to the concert in Los Angeles, I had finally been admitted as a nurse in the hospital os LA working 10 hour shifts and even though my last name was legally Sixx I continued to use my single name to avoid causing problems.

Everyday i come back home excited so I could receive a call from Nikki, I trusted him more than anyone in the world and hearing his voice telling me about his day made me feel like the happiest woman in the world even though I had already spent 4 months alone.

He always ended his call with an “I love you, I’ll call you tomorrow” and the next day it was exactly the same, I counted every minute for the tour to end and return home but many times my head would fly back with the thoughts that at first made me feel insecure

“Did you hear about Diana? Her husband cheated on her with her youngest daughter’s teacher, men are disgusting, don’t you believe Y/N?” The nurse in charge of the patient in 422 gossiped with the other nurses while I filled out some papers on the desk. “Yes, they are… they are terrible” I smiled at her barely trying to avoid her conversation “It’s very strange that a girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend or husband, do you have something you haven’t told us, honey?'' I could feel the gaze of the other girls on me, waiting for my answer “No, I… I’m actually married, but it’s a bit complicated to explain” I smiled shyly feeling nervous “What’s so complicated, honey? He's a drunk with no future?" they all laughed waiting for my explanation but I just matched their laughter and decided to go check on my patient even though I had done it 10 minutes ago.

How do you explain to a group of women in their 20s that you're married to Nikki Sixx himself? I had heard more than one make disgusting comments about him, how they idolized his body and told of their fantasies with the man to whom I had sworn my unconditional love in front of God and the law, how do you explain that your husband is on tour with thousands of girls around him and i am an insignificant person waiting for him at home.

Everything was torture, watching him on MTV acting happy with the boys, looking at his image in the newspapers, his music videos, how i had fallen into that place where he didn't fit in, many times I fell asleep on the couch with the TV on thinking that maybe it was all a dream.

But then one August night I woke up with a warm hand caressing my hair, my heart skipped a beat as my eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the room ''Shh baby it's me'' Nikki knelt in front of me taking my face carefully smiling ''I didn't mean to scare you love, I'm sorry'' ''Nikki?…What are you doing here?'' I sat up on the couch looking at him, maybe it was a dream and how much I missed him made me imagine him with me but he just laughed and sat next to me hugging me tightly ''We took a break from the tour before leaving the country and I wanted to see my favorite girl'' his hands kept moving over my body, he had never learned to control them and I honestly missed that about him ''You didn't just come for that right?'' I laughed feeling tickles on my stomach and neck as he left kisses on it ''Not really, I came to take you with me, I have a surprise for you '' he smiled mischievously, that smile that made me feel weak ''Come, I want you to see something'' he jumped up taking my hand making the blanket on my legs fall to the ground and I almost with it ''Wait Nikki, I don't have pants'' I laughed following his steps almost tripping ''I don't care, you won't need anything else from here, come with me''

The car in front of the sidewalk was something different and much more modern than what I was used to, it looked like something I had only seen on the streets and had never imagined but when he opened the door to let me in I knew something had changed.

He drove through the streets of Los Angeles, it was 4 am and the whole city was still asleep, the streets empty and the sky totally dark, he kept talking and talking about the many cities he had visited, all the people who had gone to see them and how great Ozzy was

''Sounds like you had fun'' I smiled at him looking at the city lights as he drove off the route we normally took and headed to the fancy area of ​​LA ''Honey where are we going?'' I looked at him curious, maybe he wanted to take me to a party with his friends and I barely had a shirt and my underwear on

''I'll take you where you deserve to be'' he smiled looking at me holding my hand as he drove ''Do you remember what I told you the day I asked you to be my girlfriend?''

''You said a lot of things Nikki, be specific'' I smiled hugging his arm breathing in his perfume and the scent of Jack Daniels and cigarettes, closing my eyes as I breathed in his presence

''I told you that you deserved the world and I was going to give it to you remember?'' I barely responded murmuring making him laugh ''well, that's what I want to give you'' the car stopped slowly and once the engine turned off everything was silent - ''open your eyes love, we're home''

''What?'' my eyes opened, looking at him curiously and then following his gaze to the house in front of us, it was beautiful just like we had once talked about, nothing luxurious or extravagant, just a home.

My heart was beating fast, almost making my chest jump, Nikki got out of the car, walked around it and opened my door offering me her hand to get out, I had never seen him move with such delicacy but that made me love him even more.

My bare feet touched the cold pavement, following him fearfully while my hands held his tightly until we stopped in front of a large fence surrounded by plants.

''Welcome home Mrs. Sixx'' I could feel his lips kissing my hair while his arms surrounded me from behind, as if he knew my legs felt like jelly and I could fall at any moment ''Do you like it? I asked Don for help to find a place that was just like we had imagined''

''But Nikki…'' - my eyes kept going back and forth between all the details of the front, the plants, the bricks, everything was perfect

''What's wrong love? You don't like it?''

''No no, it's not that, it's just that… it's ours?'' I looked at him curiously, still doubting if it belonged to us, how in such a short time he was giving me everything he had promised, I would never have imagined this while eating canned food in that old and small house where my mother had put us with a man who used to beat her.

''It's all our love'' Nikki laughed hugging me a little harder kissing my cheek ''From today, you won't have to go to work or go to sleep in the cold, do you understand? You will wait for me here at home and I will give you everything you deserve, you and our children who will grow up here''

We finally had a home and that night we took every room and corner we could find to give ourselves to each other for all the months without seeing each other, but the pleasure didn't last long and before I wanted it he left again to continue with the tour, this time leaving me with a new friend, Sharise.

She was the sweetest and funniest girl I could meet on my own, she was so attractive and daring, the opposite of me and when we found out she was pregnant I became her confidant and companion while Vince and Nikki continued with the boys on tour.

''Do you think it will be a girl or a boy?'' Sharise was looking at herself in the mirror while I was reading a magazine lying on her bed

''Mmm..possibly a girl I think'' I smiled at her watching as she caressed her belly over her pink dress

''Have you thought about having one?'' her blue eyes felt like knives as she looked at me through the mirror

''Have you thought about having one?'' I looked at her smiling, shaking my head in shame ''no..Nikki and I want to have children but we haven't decided when yet'' - my eyes returned to the magazine feeling my cheeks blush

''Oh come on, don't feel embarrassed sweetie, I'm sure you and Nikki have a very active sex life, right?'' She laughed coming closer sitting next to me with difficulty holding her big belly '' You can tell me, we're like best friends now''

My eyes tried to avoid hers, but she was right, we were like best friends and I had no one else to talk to, just Nikki and the bastard disappeared for months

''Well yes…when we're together we do it very often but…I don't know we haven't managed to get pregnant, maybe it's not the time yet''

''I understand, maybe it's because of all that shit Nikki gets into, he's a maniac, Vince told me that Nikki can't live without snorting cocaine and if he doesn't do it he gets aggressive'' She took the magazine reading the page she had left on without noticing that I was looking at her without understanding what she said.

''What do you mean with… all the shit he gets into?'' I sit up carefully without taking my eyes off her making her look at me the same way putting her face blank, maybe she thought I knew what Nikki did and although I had an idea I never imagined that the boys had him cataloged as a drug addict and aggressive

''Oh honey… I'm sorry I said it that way it's just that… I thought…'' she made a gesture taking her belly quickly taking a deep breath ''I know love, mom will be more careful''

''Are you okay?'' I approached worried taking her arm while she laughed nodding

''I'm fine honey, it's just that this naughty girl is kicking hard'' we both laughed relieved, more me than her apparently ''Look, put your hand here'' she held my hand taking it to her belly while a couple of kicks greeted me letting me know that whoever was inside her was listening to us ''Auntie is feeling you darling, be careful''

''Kick really hard, I'm sure it will be a girl and she will be very strong'' I smiled at her forgetting for a moment about our problems, I couldn't believe that this little being didn't even know me and already loved me, it was like creating my own family little by little

''I know and when your time comes you will also have very strong and beautiful babies like you and Nikki, can you imagine them?'' she jumped excitedly with her eyes shining ''They will have your beautiful hair and green eyes like Nikki, they will all be angels''

Since then there was not a day when I didn't daydream imagining all those children running around me, the house felt huge and empty, just me going back and forth from one place to another with nothing to do, it was so desperate sometimes that every call Nikki made at night made me want to demand that he come back and get me pregnant and not stop until he did, but my need was was overshadowed by my fears and didn't say anything.

Then December came and finally the boys had returned and two days later we were already at a party at Vince's house, it seemed like the boys couldn't stay away from each other and found any excuse to be together, surrounded by alcohol and groupies, drugs that even though Nikki wanted to hide them from me I could tell they were there and even more so when he told me he would "go to the bathroom" every 20 minutes and came back wiping his nose.

My conversations seemed even more interesting when Mick was with me, he seemed to be the only one who understood that I was already a married woman because Tommy kept joking around like the child he still was.

"Should I interrupt Mick? I don't have to remind you that you're talking to my wife, right?" Nikki sat next to me, putting her arm around my shoulders while holding a bottle of Jack Daniels.

''She's all yours bassist'' Mick sighed without hiding his back pain drinking from his beer

''What are you talking about, huh?'' Nikki looked at me too closely drinking from the whiskey

''About old people's things Sixx'' I smiled at him wiping the liquid that was left in the corner of his lip ''can we go home? Please''

''Why do you want to go home? Do you need to do something important?'' his eyes lost in alcohol and other things looked at me curiously

''I need to do important things with my husband'' I smiled at him arranging his hair out of his face barely kissing his lips

''You're disgusting, get a room'' Tom sighed crossing his arms making Tommy and Mick look at him while Nikki and I give him a killer look, it was something that made me feel so similar to him, we both disliked stupid people.

''Why don't you get a life Tom? It'll be easier than getting a girlfriend that Tommy doesn't fuck'' I looked at him annoyed, getting up from the couch while I heard Mick and Tommy laughing, making Tom look at the floor embarrassed ''I'll go with Sharise babe''

''Damn, how I love my woman'' Nikki barely expressed, slapping me on the butt while I could feel his gaze following me until I found Sharise on the stairs

''Sweetie, could you tell them not to go out for alcohol? We have enough'' she looked at me almost pleading ''Vince and Razzle want to go for more, they don't listen to me''

''They won't listen to you, you know them'' I smiled at her adjusting Razzle's hat on her head watching them walk through the door staggering from one side to the other

''Sweetheart… I mean, sweethearts'' Razzle laughed barely caressing Sharise's belly ''Mrs. Sixx'' the thin man bowed making us laugh as he left behind Vince, clearly both drunk

''Come on, let's go to my room, my back is killing me'' Sharise sighed going up slowly while I followed her ''I don't think the party will end early, if you want you can sleep here with me sweetheart''

''I think so, I've asked Nikki to go home several times and I can't convince him'' I sighed throwing myself on the sofa in her room, surrounded by silk cushions while I watched her come and go from her dressing room trying to take off her dress

''Help me with the zipper, I can't reach it'' my hands carefully open it while she held the front part ''did you try the insinuation thing?''

''Yep...maybe I need something more don't you think?…maybe…to be a little more sugestive?'' I looked at her curiously, waiting to receive her advice

''I don't think so, Nikki loves you just the way you are, honey, you shouldn't stop being yourself just because you think he's not interested in you anymore'' she looked at me taking off her earrings while sitting on her bed ''you have him crazy, the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you''

''You think so?'' I smiled at her feeling flattered and curious

''Of course you do, you know that they are always surrounded by girls right? Vince tells me everything and always says how much he admires Nikki for how she defends your space and doesn't let any whore take it''

Was it right to start daydreaming again? Nikki was my everything and knowing that I was my everything for him too made me feel complete and happy, I could see her fixing the blankets to sleep and putting her hair up but my head kept flying in how much she loved Sixx, not even the loud music made me land.

''Come on, go to bed, girl. You'll have more time to think about your husband and how much you want to fuck him'' she laughed, hitting the bed beside her, making me laugh. ''Take that robe, today we'll be pajama twins''

''Shut up'' I laughed, undressing without shame. We had done it many times and it was a common thing in our sleepovers as women forgotten by our rock star husbands. ''You know, I think I'm ready to tell Nikki''

''Tell him what?'' she looked at me curiously, adjusting her pillow.

''You know about… having a baby'' there was no way that just mentioning it would make me nervous, but it did.

''Really? It will be great, so Skylar will have someone to play with'' her cheeks seemed to explode with excitement with her smile

''Skylar?'' - I looked at her curiously as I lay down next to her

''Yes… Skylar, Vince and I decided that this is what our daughter will be called, we know it will be a girl''

''It sounds beautiful, Skylar is perfect for her'' We both seemed like a couple of teenagers whenever we talked about her little angel, we were excited to talk about her little clothes, her future toys or how she would look like Vince or her.

We could spend hours and hours without getting bored until we fell asleep like two little girls after eating too much sugar.

It was then that the sound of the party became something different, the music stopped and the noise seemed to increase as the cars accelerated at full speed moving away and I barely woke up and could notice that she was still asleep.

I carefully climbed out of bed, taking slow steps out of the room, watching as the crowd of strange people ran out of the place, my bare feet stepped on the cold tiles as I walked down the stairs, by then I didn't even remember that I was wearing a nightgown that barely covered my butt and my nipples were visible under the thin pink fabric.

''Tommy?'' I could feel the tension in his body as he was accompanied by a blonde girl who rubbed his back slowly ''Tommy what's wrong?''

''I...'' the boy looked at me scared, it seemed like he could barely draw air '' I..'' no other word came out of his mouth, his heaving chest drew air in slowl '' There was an accident… it seems there are dead people..''

''an accident?.. what do you mean an accident? '' my accelerated pulse made my ears vibrate- ''where is Nikki?''

''He's okay'' - the blonde girl looked at me calmly taking my arm ''he's in the living room''

As soon as I heard her words I ran out, not caring that the people running against me pushed me or my bare feet kicked empty beer bottles, I just wanted to see him and know that he was okay, I could see Mick leaning against the kitchen, Tom walking back and forth but it took me a long time to find Nikki who was on the couch covering her face

''Baby…honey what happened?'' my knees hit the cold floor while my hands caressed her hair- love are you okay?

''It's Vince..'' I could hear a sob and her breath cut off between his hands ''Vince had an accident''

''Vince?..oh my god…he…he's okay'' I took his hands slowly, carefully removing them from his face

''He's…he's okay but…'' his eyes were irritated, there were tears running down his cheeks and his hands were shaking between mine ''Razzle died…Razzle's gone…''

''Honey, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry'' I could barely hold him in my arms when he broke into a thousand pieces and began to cry, I had never comforted him like that, it broke my heart to see him this way, he had lost his friend and I couldn't imagine what I would feel if it happened to me when I lost him, my only best friend life would be so fucked up.

Atfer all, Is this being part of the fucking Motley Crue.

Thanks for all the interactions,

@thatoneawesomechicka @frieddreamtoadhound @oskea93 @lustxforxlife @tkayla12 @dreams-n-warpedminds @thenamylove @iasmi69 @marvelobsessed134 @ilovesexydads @nikkis-cherry @error180900-blog @crescentbladed @eattothebeatt @thebsttrashpanda

[a-m-w-worlds]

The Hidden Meaning of Names in Nancy Drew: The White Wolf of Icicle Creek

Okay, so I like names. I like researching them, discovering their meanings and histories, and finding the perfect one for my characters, locations, etc. This means it makes my nerdy little heart happy anytime I discover that someone else put as much thought into their character names as I usually do, and let me tell you, Nancy Drew: The White Wolf of Icicle Creek, is a goldmine!

The first name on this list I've known about for a long time, Guadalupe Comillo. Through other sources (mostly Heroes of Olympus if I'm being honest) I knew Lupa was the name of the She-Wolf in Roman mythology who cared for Romulus and Remus, so I already assumed Guadalupe's nickname, Lupe, was a reference to this. But I later learned the actual meaning of the name Guadalupe is "valley of wolves". This was a really fun discovery, but I kind of assumed she was the only character to have a name like this, until…

Lou Talbot.

I happened to fall down a rabbit hole one night regarding the classic Universal Monsters (falling down weird rabbit holes is a favorite pass time of mine!) and I discovered that the titular Wolf Man from the 1941 film happens to be named Larry Talbot. Since Lou was the only other Talbot I knew I made the connection instantly and had a good laugh over it, until it occurred to me that if Lou and Guadalupe both have wolf-themed names, other characters might as well!

The Hunt was on!

After making the Talbot connection I started checking other films and turned up two more connections. Bill Kessler shares his surname with David Kessler, the werewolf in the 1981 film An American Werewolf in London and Julius McQuade shares his name with the protagonist of the 1983 film Lone Wolf McQuade.

A basic search for the name Randall, Ollie and Freddie's surname, reveals that (at least according to this Wikipedia article) it's an anglicized form of a Scandinavian name meaning "shield wolf". (Ironic considering how badly Ollie wanted the wolf dead!)

And a search for Yanni Volkstaia's surname turned up this Reddit post by lemonapplecherry that fit into my hunt beautifully. In this post they explain that Volk is the Russian word for wolf, (easily verified by Google Translate) and Staya is a Russian word denoting a group of animals or a pack if you will!

And according to this article (and several others I forgot to save the links for, oopsy) Sheriff Mahihkan's surname is the Cree word for Wolf!

So, the simple version:

Guadalupe Comillo's first name means "valley of wolves" and (bonus fun fact) her surname means "acolyte". Pretty fitting since she one of the only characters who cares about the wolf's safety!

Lou Talbot shares his surname with Larry Talbot, the werewolf from Universal's The Wolf Man.

Bill Kessler shares his surname with David Kessler, the werewolf from An American Werewolf in London.

Julius McQuade shares his surname with the protagonist of the film Lone Wolf McQuade.

Ollie and Freddie Randall's surname means "shield wolf".

Yanni Volkstaia's surname is a fusion of the Russian words for wolf and pack.

Sherriff Mahihkan's surname is the Cree word for wolf.

These are all of the characters from The White Wolf of Icicle Creek I've been able to draw concrete connections between their names and wolves for, but I'm not convinced they're the only ones! There are still three characters I really expected to find connections for: Chantal Moique, Elsa Sibbelhoth, and Daniel "Trapper Dan" Weisnitz. Based purely on how atypical their surnames are, I was CONVINCED they must also have wolf connections, but I've been completely unable to find any. I've run every wolf-related word I could think of through every language on Google Translate and found nothing. I've searched for literary names connected to wolves with no luck. I've run their names through search engines to no avail. (Google reeeeaaaaalllllllyyyyy thinks I mean Monique when I search for Moique!) And I've done some (admittedly shallow) glancing into different types of wolves and people who have researched wolves, and still haven't found anything.

So, any and all members of the Clue Crew hanging out on Tumblr, I want to know, do you know any wolf connections that I missed? If you let me know of any I'd love to add your findings and credits to this list!/gen

Thanks for reading and happy sleuthing!

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Ask Me Anything -- Keldin Sands

What were your initial thoughts upon being woken up and told you're the captain now?

For a solid week, I was dead certain that I was dreaming. I mean. I went to sleep under the assumption I’d be waking up in orbit around Hylara, then suddenly I’m waking up in the medbay but we’re still years away and the crew isn’t there and instead there’s these new people and the captain is Doctor Aspen Greaves? And then everyone’s like, oh, actually you’re the captain now? Yeah, I definitely assumed this was a coma dream. It took me a while to accept otherwise.

To be honest, even now, if I do suddenly wake up in orbit around Hylara with Captain Reimann there, I won’t be entirely surprised. I’d definitely be relieved.

Are you concerned that there are also colonists planted on the Courageous by whomever planted the crew members to sabotage/experiment on the ship?

Oh, yes. If that wasn’t a serious risk, I wouldn’t have been recruited.

Do you feel like the stressors of the many situations are getting to you?

I’ve been overstressed since I woke up from chronostasis. At this rate I’m just doing my best to keep the ship in one piece and the crew from degenerating into a violent stress-crazed mob.

When you first read Kinoshita's notes what did you think of former Captain Reimann's admittance that he also had a loved one aboard the ship? Did you sympathise with him?

Well, I went through proper channels and got clearance, and he smuggled someone aboard the ship against the rules, so I’m not sure how well he expected that to pan out. I mean. I do sympathise in that his loved one died; he had no reason to expect that. But he should’ve obeyed the rules, they’re there for a reason.

Do you regret taking the offer to be placed on the Courageous?

Yes! This is NOT what I signed up for!

Are there any Tarandran customs, or holidays you hope to continue on Hylara?

I don’t know how taxation will work on Hylara – I imagine that we’ll be working with a central planned economy for at least the duration of my lifetime so taxes won’t be a thing – but I intend to find some way to continue to celebrate the Yeartithe. It’s a beautiful little celebration done in Tarandra once per year, where families and friends gather for a party and exchange small gifts in thanks for the value that they provide each other. People are assured of what value they bring to the family and the community, and children are encouraged to think of their potential and showered with praise about what strong an asset they will become. Once everyone’s gotten their valuations straight, they’re ready to submit their taxes to the government as a final gift and acknowledgement of mutual value between themselves and Tarandra itself, the largest of their communities below humanity itself. It’s a wonderful celebration of individuals, families and communities, and how we help each other and bring value to the whole. Even if the economics are wildly different on Hylara, I hope to maintain enough of the celebration to keep the spirit.

It’s also a very popular time of year for marriages, adoptions, and sorting out inheritances, because doing so at the very beginning of the financial year makes next year’s Yeartithe so much simpler.

How did you meet your husband? Did you propose, or did he?

He’s a painter. My house needed painting. We got to talking when we were sorting out a shortage of Pigment XV-1994 and whether we should wait a month for resupply or just bite the bullet and go with Pigment XV-1983 instead. Ket looked me right in the eye and told me that I’d be staring at the walls of this living room for years and I didn’t need to settle for second best, snatched the pen out of my hand and rescheduled the painting for a month later on my wall calendar.

Three months later I told him he was right, I wouldn’t need to settle for second best, and I asked him to marry me. The Sands’ were a much more high profile family than the Yorlas, so convincing his family wasn’t hard; I bought him into the family with a three year free property lease for his mother that I borrowed off my grandmother in exchange for a concession on some unrelated complex family issues, and we were married by the end of the year.

If you hadn't joined the Javelin Program, what would your dream life have been?

Probably a peaceful life of designing spaceship engines and sipping tea with Ket in a Pigment XV-1994 coloured living room.

What made you fall in love with your husband?

I’m a stubborn guy, and so is he. We were always there to second-guess each others’ decisions and not let the other one get carried away with something that, in hindsight, would turn out to be very stupid. It’s a valuable asset to bring into a family or a business.

Do you miss Tarandan? What is the one thing you'd bring from there if you could?

My husband! Haha, I know, that’s a coward’s answer. The real answer is the food. The food on this ship is as good as the crew can make it, but it’s always a bit unfamiliar. It reminds me how far from home I really am.

If I could bring anything from Earth, it would be the sunset. I hope that when we build the environmental domes on Hylara, they’re transparent, or at least have windows. I want to sip coffee with Ket while watching the sunset again.

How do you imagine your first sight of Hylara?

Boringly, I expect it will be a long-distance image from the onboard light telescope, followed by an analysis from our Kleiner array to check whether Earth’s long-range data on the exoplanet is correct. We’ll want accurate data on Hylara as quickly as possible. At that distance, it’ll just be a dot in space.

Earth said that there’s a chance that there might be water oceans. I hope they’re right. It would be amazing to see oceans when we get close enough.

What are your hopes for the kind of society you guys will build when you get to the planet?

As stable and prosperous a society as we can. It’s going to be a lot of work. I don’t agree with the selection of colonists – an 80% criminal population is a horribly unstable start, and the non-criminal filtering process wasn’t all that great either. Being able to get these people all working together in a society where all of our needs are provided for and nobody’s going to steal or abuse or kill each other will be a massive challenge.

Fortunately, it won’t be my challenge. My job is to get us to the planet; the establishment of the colony can fall into more professional hands.

Did you have any pets before you left?

I had a small flock of pigeons a few years ago, but I handed them off before being selected for the program.

What do you think of Aspen now that you’ve met them, as opposed to only having read their books?

They’re… not what I expected. In writing, they’re much clearer, more direct, more certain. In person, they’re quite changeable and difficult to understand.

I think I just need to get to know them better.

What will you do if your husband doesn't make it?

I don’t know. I promised him I’d keep going. That was the promise we made to each other before going into chronostasis – if either of us had to keep going alone, we would.

But I can’t do that if he dies here. Too much is riding on my shoulders right now. If he dies, I’m going to be in a bad way for a long time, so that can’t happen until the ship and the colony no longer rely on me.

What was the worst bet you ever lost?

Oh I don’t gamble. Gambling is a mug’s game. I’ll take small ‘bets’ on the ship occasionally to help promote crew cohesion, but since the point of those is the social cohesion and not the stakes, merely taking them is a win.