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#but as someone who had a teen mom and read those books when i was 12 and my mom was 30
starrynyx · 4 months
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i wanna talk about this portrayal of sally jackson and how it feels notably younger than the 2010 movie or even the musical. obviously her age is never explicitly stated there or in the books, but mama was sitting on the fire escape in the rain listening to olivia rodrigo and thinking about her ex. she's giving big 30-something millennial energy and i think that's so important in the context of HER story as a young mother alone in the world just trying her best. i think percy paints her as this angelic, caring, gentle presence that can do no wrong but the pov shift in the show lets us see her rougher edges, the places where she wasn't always perfect. and maybe im reading too far into this but if you reframe her and percy's relationship within the context of her being that young, of them reaching this quasi-gillmore girls space of "you are my baby but you're also my best friend and all i have in this world" idk it just feels a lot deeper somehow, like they're giving sally more dimension and development earlier on and i'm so excited to see her arc progress in future seasons
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greywritesthings · 18 days
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five thirty AM
Ask from @spinningspencer 
So, reader has a Dark Day (idk if there's a better term for that, it's what I call them) where she feels like her brain has been replaced by a dark cloud of nothing and she can't really think anymore (I hope this makes sense) It causes her to feel uncomfortable in her mind and body and just uncomfortable in general. She can't do anything but sit those days out, so she goes to Spencer for comfort to get her through the day.
Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
Warnings: feeling numb, feeling unsettled generally readers just sad, you get the vibes from the ask
A/N; this isn't proof read but i quite like this request, i strayed a little bit and i may redo this at some point in the future or do a part 2 perhaps
SR masterlist
masterlist
Taglist; @reidstheyfriend
You had woken up that morning feeling numb, another bad day. You had bad days every now and again, they just happened and had done so since your late teens. Your limbs feel heavy, you couldn’t do anything, including think. You ran on autopilot through the most basic motions to get through the day. 
You feel unsettled throughout everything, like nothing's right, even when you ran on auto pilot it didn't feel correct and it upset you even further. You often ended up spending hours in the shower crying, with a mind full of static and tears running down your cheeks. 
This time it was different, you had someone to go to who understood your bad days. Spencer. You had a bad day about two months after joining the BAU and he had noticed as you had to be at work, unable to call out given you were on a case. He had come to you with a hot chocolate the same way you made it, including the marshmallows and cream he went to the convenience store to get, and asked you if you wanted to talk, letting you know if you wanted you could come back to his room and you could watch or read something together instead of talking. You had taken him up on the offer and ended up falling asleep in his room, curled up together with books dropped on the floor. That had then become routine whenever you or him just needed some comfort. 
Two years on your bad days were fewer and farther between, you were close with the BAU now, they really were like family. You had Hotch and Rossi saved as Dad and Mom respectively. You and Pen hung out regularly, often baking or painting at her flat while drinking wine, under the eyes of Derek and Spencer given they knew how accident prone the pair of you could be after a few glasses. You also found time to hang out with JJ and her children, with Emily often coming with. All over it didn't give you much time to fall into this state but when you did it hit hard. 
You knew in order to get to Spencer you would have to call him and with a brain that felt like static it was going to take up practically everything you had. You knew you could go to his flat, it was one building over and would mean you technically got fresh air so hopefully he wouldn't try and coax you out of the apartment later on. Where you were already in a hoodie and leggings from sleeping you decide to throw on your converses he had gifted you for christmas and walk across to his. 
What would normally take you seven minutes this time took you four, whenever you were zoned out you walked faster, given you weren't looking anywhere or being careful of anything you took the stairs two at a time both up and down. 
It's not until you reach his front door that you realise the time. You look down to your pocket, inadvertently looking at your watch that had glow in the dark hands. It read five thirty AM. It was much earlier than you had thought it was, You had shown up at spencers early before but not this early, and not without checking. You decided to just sit outside his door, sending a :/ text to him for when he did wake up. You both did this on days where you needed each other but couldn't put into words what was wrong. Before you had a chance to sit down you heard his door unlock and saw the door pull open to reveal a surprisingly perky looking spencer. “Morning sweetheart, cmere” He seemed surprised to see you at his door but didn't mind it, lacing an arm around your waist and pulling you into the apartment. 
Once he settled you onto the sofa and grabbed hot chocolates and a vaguely suitable breakfast for you both he joined you, pulling you into his chest once you had eaten so you could listen to his heart knowing it soothed you. He put on DR Who knowing it was something you knew well and so didn't have to pay a lot of attention to to understand, a perfect mix for when you were having a bad day. 
You stayed like that for most of the day, curled up on the sofa with Spencer occasionally getting up to get water and snacks for you both. He passed you your drawing pad and pencils at one point once he noticed you getting anxious so that you could put your mind elsewhere. Eventually you fell asleep and he decided he would just get you to eat better tomorrow. He carefully takes off your shoes and socks, changing out your hoodie and leggings for his sweater and sweatpants like he normally did. He then picks you up carefully and carries you across to his room, placing you carefully on what had been deemed your side, leaving you under the covers while he goes to change knowing that if he left you alone in the bed you would wake up. Once he was back in the bed he turned on the lamp and pulled a book from the stack beside the bed, shuffling over so he could play with your hair easier as you curled further up against him, sighing contentedly in your sleep. You would be okay tomorrow.
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kiragecko · 7 months
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This is a post about why I'm currently considering myself to be nonbinary, but it's not a post about gender.
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It’s about 90% of the elementary school girls wanting to sit on the grass and talk about boys, and me still not understanding why even now, in my mid 30s.
It’s about ‘girls books’ that were all about friendship drama and worrying about menstruating, and how these were framed as universal concerns. My only friends were a pair of male cousins and we mostly cared about how our Lego ninjas’ castle infiltration was going. (The options were limited in my small library in the mid-90s.)
It’s about the ‘wild’, ‘disobedient’, and 'hyper' kids in the books I grew up with being so much better behaved than me, even on my best day, that I’d puzzle over it for weeks. Maybe if my parents were stricter I would be able to follow instructions easier? Maybe I was one of the mean kids in those books? Why was nobody in books like me?
It’s about the revulsion I feel when I think about ‘romantic’ gestures. Remembering my mom getting flowers from someone at church, and my aunt getting upset when I laughed about how she wouldn’t like them. MY MOM IS ALLERGIC TO FLOWERS, but a person who had nothing to do with the situation got offended that I didn’t consider them a thoughtful and nice gift. It makes me feel nauseous thinking about how I’m ‘supposed’ to think things that I don’t want and can’t use are loving gifts, just because society decided they were.
It's about people wanting me to already know their social conventions, and feeling like they are doing SO MUCH WORK when they make allowances for my mistakes, but thinking that learning anything about how I like to communicate is asking far too much of them.
It's about trying to make friends as a teen, and all the guys getting upset or weird when it became clear that wasn't code for dating.
It's about makeup giving me rashes, and my hair being done up giving me headaches.
It’s about women in lingerie in ads, and how I wore a headscarf for a year in reaction to how that made me feel.
It's about learning biblical gender roles, and getting really excited about the idea of protection and love in return for submission. And then finding out I like the BDSM understanding of protection and submission a lot more than I like the church's. That the person I love doesn't have the skill to protect me in ways that make submission safe.
It’s about having noise and light sensitivities, but being expected to enjoy crowded weddings.
It’s about people acting disgusted when I get too loud. Or excited. Or happy. Or interested.
It's about 'body language experts' that ""explain"" what various gestures mean, and it's about that month when my husband believed them and told me I was wrong about what I felt.
It's about definitions of 'womanhood' and 'humanity' that contain things that exclude me. And learning how to be okay with being the exception this time. And eventually getting so used to being the exception that I can no longer connect to the concept at all.
It's about only reading fantasy, now, because an elf's experience isn't supposed to be relatable.
It’s about learning that ‘I actually wanted’ things I didn’t want, and I was ‘unreasonable’ when I said no, and I was being ‘too sensitive’ when things physically or emotionally hurt.
It’s about being ADHD and aroace and weird in far too many ways; in a culture that seems to consider that to be willful rebellion and disrespect.
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I don’t know how to be a woman. I don’t know how to feel good about being a woman. I don't feel I can fulfill the roles and dynamics associated with femininity. I can't present myself in the expected ways, and I don't really want to. In isolation, 'woman' feels like an accurate description. But than I think of OTHER people considering me a woman, and having the right to define what that means, and I just can't.
I need a break from considering myself female, so I can figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t break me.
I want to learn how to interact with other people in a way that are less exhausting and painful. Engage on my own terms, and disengage if those terms aren’t fulfilled. Protect my own boundaries with strangers and acquaintances - people I don’t expect to make allowances for me. Not by demanding things of them, but by only offering myself on certain terms.
I don't want to ask anything about anyone else. I'm tired of it being about them. I want to ask things of myself. Ask for respect, and care. Figure out what that would actually look like. I want to process and let go of my self-hatred and feelings of being 'designed wrong'.
I've heard the terms 'acegender' and 'neurogender'. They don't excite me, but I recognize that's part of what's going on. Having ADHD gets in the way of performing womanhood to the point that it becomes hard to separate them. And some much of femaleness is defined in relation to being a part of a heterosexual romantic couple. I've got the man, but that hasn't helped me decode the mysteries of romantic and sexual attraction. The baffling concept of men having some sort of allure that women lack, of being a different category.
But, like my marriage isn't about my lack of attraction (it's about the choice I made to love him, and the decade plus of commitment we've had to each other), being nonbinary isn't about my lack of understanding of and ability to perform womanhood. It's about choosing to love myself, and recognizing that I've internalized enough harmful beliefs that I can't healthily identify as female right now.
It's not about gender.
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goldkirk · 3 months
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Gregor the Overlander fanfiction?! Gregor the Overlander mention!?!?! Tbh it's been so long since I've read it I barely remember it. After Hunger Games' success they need to make a Gregor the Overlander adaptation.
GREGOR THE OVERLANDER WAS SO IMPORTANT TO ME friend I was OBSESSED.
I very genuinely wrote a letter to Disney as a 10 year old asking them to make an adaption and consider casting my new baby nephew and me as a gender-reversed Gregor and Boots I shit you not. I refuse to be embarassed by that, it wasn't cringe, baby me was just That Fucking Into It and wanted to share it with the world lol
My first fanfic was Code of Claw post-series fix-it fic written on a legal pad my mom gave me to use when I was bored silly partway through a day of errands. Complete with fanart of Gregor climbing into a sewer drain and all.
Frankly your excitement bouncing off of my excitement is making me think I need to read it again too, it's been so long. At my peak I could chant every prophecy in the books and tap and scratch messages to myself in code bc I had for some reason memorized the whole Tree of Transmission better than I ever managed to memorize Morse Code.
I'm so overjoyed to talk with someone who was also in love with that series. I completely agree that they need to make a Gregor the Overlander adaption, but also I'm 100% sure they NEED to animate it and never, ever, EVER fucking do a live show. I don't think there's any way to capture the depth and scale of the world/creatures and the differences between adult and kid perspectives of what's going on in the Underland and a lot of the unique features into live action stuff without weakening it, and for me, I felt as a kid like these books were the first and only series for KIDS (not teens) that really really made me feel known as a kid-who-knew-adults-in-charge-can-lie-and-be-bad-sometimes AND as a kid-who-still-defaults-to-believing-the-best-anyway and how those intersect.
I feel like The Underland Chronicles, Ender's Game, and The Hunger Games all are in a specific category of story and boy is that category important. The Gregor books additionally take kids more seriously than any of the others, which was extra cool.
Sorry for the wall of text and the rambling all over lol, thank you for the ask!!!! I hope you have an awesome day and an enjoyable time next time you reread the Underland Chronicles <3
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princesssmars · 1 year
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in the darkened forest, i see you.
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some stiles stilinski x witch reader headcanons
your whole life you knew you had a destiny to fulfill. its hard to juggle your magical heritage and your nosy best friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
wc: 1.328
contains : fluff. reader is a witch. mentions of some of season ones violence.
a/n : very self-indulgent and based on my very. very long and detailed teen wolf script. enjoy.
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the name of your hometown always made you laugh inside your head. beacon hills, a sprawling town in northern california. by the title and looks you'd think the only things gravitating here would be families preparing for the future and seniors looking to settle down.
but there was so much hidden beneath the surface that almost every resident had no idea about.
when you were but seven years old you realized your family wasn't like other childrens.
where heathers dad worked in a home office, yours worked in a dingy but atmospheric antique shop selling various artifacts you've never seen before, ranging from "eye of newt" to "crushed cricket leg powder" to a bundle of weird-looking talismans.
where benjamins mom spoke english as her first language, you found out those funny words your mom would say when reading from her big book was her second language which was called latin. and how sometimes when she spoke it while cooking your food always came out tastier and you'd go to sleep feeling stronger than ever.
its on your 13th birthday when your parents sit you down and tell you the truth, how you've been born into a long line of witches from both your mother and father's side. how they can tell you've been curious as they were as kids, but they see something in you that pushed them to decide to let you in sooner to the lifestyle than other witchlings, who normally started learning before a witches becoming ceremony on their 16th.
"your magic can be a blessing and a curse," they said, sitting with you on the couch while your father showed you the family picturebook holding portraits of ancestors dating back hundreds of years. "but in our family, we've always put the greater good of witch kind before others. we protect our own and they protect us. you'll always have someone in your corner when things seem impossible. "
your parents were kidding, with you being introduced to some of the other witch kids in town. contrary to what you were thinking they were pretty popular, and welcomed you into their circle nearly immediately.
being popular means meeting many types of people though, and that's what led you to meet the one and only stiles stilinski.
he was a bit nerdy, and definitely less popular than you were but that didnt really matter. your first conversation was in english class freshman year, when you asked him for a pencil and he accidentally gave out four at once. you laughed at him and he told you that you had the prettiest smile he'd ever seen, and that since smiling made people live longer he hoped you live to be 110. it was weird but cute.
since that day you'd been friends, hanging out with stiles and scott often. you'd even show up to cheer at their lacrosse games even if they sucked. you tried giving them small luck charms before games which luckily seemed to work.
even if you found yourself growing close to them, you still kept the knowledge of your heritage close to your chest. even if stiles, being the mini detective he was, seemed to nearly figure it out multiple times.
but it's during the latter end of your sophomore year when things take a turn. stiles shows up to your house in the dead of night asking you to come with him to get some snacks and chill. figuring you had nothing else to do, you agreed and decided to walk the short trek with him to scott's house.
what he didnt tell you was that the three of you were going into the woods to find half of a damn dead body, the boys ignoring your complaints from behind them as they searched the forest floor. sure you could've gone home, but it'd be a lie to say you weren't just a bit interested yourself. and scared they'd get themselves killed.
the funs cut short when you and stiles are caught by his dad, who on the drive home awkwardly insinuates that he thought you two had snuck away to fool around in the woods, making the both of you loudly deny it. but after you get dropped off at home you start thinking if it'd be the worst thing in the world to date the stilnksi boy.
the next few weeks are chaos, with you finding out that not only are werewolves back in beacon hills but the newest addition is scott himself. you try to give him as much help as you can without seeming too suspicious.
but it's one afternoon when stiles comes up to you acting the calmest you've ever seen him and tells you he's taking you out for burgers, his treat. you agree because one free burgers and two alone time with your...best friend stiles. win-win situation, right?
wrong, because as soon as you're settled in the passenger seat and ready to eat a burger after the crappy school lunch, stiles turns in his seat and asks "are you supernatural too?"
you looked at him and knew you couldn't lie to his face, the truth spilling from your mouth faster than you could comprehend. he seemed more excited to hear about you being a witch than you did when you found out you were one.
you swear him and scott to secrecy, telling him it's already dangerous enough that they know. your secret is safe with them but god are they annoying about it.
what spells can you do? do you have a cauldron? do you have any family members who died in salem? could you put a curse on jackson? not a super serious one just so he...ok nevermind.
as irritating as it could be, you knew that they meant well.
sometimes when you're in your room studying your grimoire, stiles will ask you to translate the little latin notes on the sides to him. when you start to get annoyed you'll explain one to him and tell him that whatever you just said is a curse and because he asked you to say it its now on him. his face is priceless every time.
the day of your becoming ceremony is pure chaos to put it simply. your parents wake you up and give you your favorite breakfast foods which is always nice. the stiles picks you up from school while he and scott are acting completely suspicious about a surprise they have for you.
you find out what it is when you get to school and see a giant banner at the front of the school that reads "happy birthday y/n!". it's almost enough to make you cry.
once the school day is over you have to head home for the ceremony, but not before your best friends beg you to tag along, not knowing that you haven't exactly told your parents that you told them your secret.
its safe to say they were pissed off when you got home, but we're more understanding (and slightly shocked and scared) when you told them that scott was a werewolf. but the more supernatural the better!
the ceremony goes off without a problem, and by the end you already feel stronger. the new power surging through your veins gives you a boost of confidence.
you drive with stiles as he drops scott off, before he takes you up to your favorite spot overlooking the city. its one of your favorite ways to end a night, looking out at your home and talking to your favorite person in the world. with your newfound confidence, you admire stiles as he rants about something before grabbing his face and bringing him in for a kiss.
you pull away after a few seconds, looking at his dazed face to see if he reciprocates your feelings or not. when he gives you that signature dopy smile of his and kisses you, its more magical than you could've hoped for.
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llvstrous099 · 6 months
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library runs
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single dad harry
summary: Bella and Harry go to the library
Being a single father to five year old Bella came with many ups and downs. Harry absolutely loved his little girl with his whole heart and wouldn’t change anything in the world for her. He loved making her happy no matter what it took like making her favorite breakfast each morning even though it always lead to them arriving late to school, attending any of her ballet recitals, taking her to park and of course taking her to get ice cream afterwards because why wouldn’t he.
But there was times where he wished he had a partner and have a complete family. Harry didn’t really like when he received attention from the other moms when he would go pick up his daughter or the stares from parents when he would attend any of the family meetings after school. So yes there was times where he wished the mother of his daughter would’ve stayed with him to raise his little girl with but things don’t always go as planned.
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Today was no different then any other day as soon it was 1:45 in the afternoon Harry would drive to school to go pick up his little girl and wait in line of the many cars already lined up to pick up their kids. He waited around another 25 minutes before he saw the doors of the school get opened and saw kids walk out and wait until they spotted their parents name on the sticker the school gave their parents to stick on their windshield’s. Harry would always get off his car as soon as he saw the kids start looking for their parents he would walk to the other side of the car and wait til his daughter would come running to him.
“Daddy I missed you so much” Bella said while hugging Harry’s legs. “So did I love” Harry responded a huge smile on his face he grabbed her backpack and opened the car door and helped her get into her car seat.
Harry walked to the other side of the car and started to drive away from the school. “daddy could we go to the library I want to get new books” Bella said she loved going to the library for many reasons she loved reading and the library where Harry would take her was huge. It had a whole section for kids it was nicely decorated it even had a small stage where once in a while teens would volunteer and would perform small plays or sometimes the librarians would sit down and read stories. Which was one of Bella’s favorite things because usually it was Y/N who would read and Bella really liked her.
“of course peanut let’s go” the library was not far from the school which was convenient. They arrived and Harry went to go help Bella get off the car and grabbed her hand so they could go into the library.
as soon as they walked in Bella slipped away from Harry’s hand and started running to the kids section and Harry quickly following her. “Y/N hiii” Bella said “ oh my god hey Bella how are you” you asked you noticed that Harry was right behind her. “Hi Harry” you smiled and looked down at the little girl that was already picking up a ton of books.
“Hi Y/N how are you” “ I’m good just organizing a few new books we just got” you answered and walked to help Bella pick some books out.
Harry smiled he liked you it took a while for him to realize it but now that he knows he feels so giddy but at the same time sort of scared. He’s too afraid to tell you of course and also because he is single father and hasn’t dated since Bella’s mother left so he’s afraid to date someone.
“peanut how many books do you got in your hands” Harry chuckled he looked down at Bella and saw she had six books already in her arms. “I want all of them Daddy could I please get them” Bella said she had a bright smile on her face and Harry couldn’t say no of course not. “yes you can but are you sure those are the ones you want” “ yes daddy look this one it has a dragon and cool trees in the back” Bella showed her father the book’s cover.
“that’s cool book you got there Bella I’m sure you would enjoy it are you ready to pay” you said looking down at the little girl who resembled her father so much. The curly brown hair and even the dimples.
“yes we are ready to pay right Bella” Harry asked “yes daddy” “okay let’s go pay for these cool books Bella” you said and walked over to the cashiers. You grabbed Bella’s books out of her arms and took them up to scan them.
After Harry payed for the books you handed a bag to Bella that contained her books “okay Bella here are your books” you said. “thank you y/n bye” “ bye Bella” you said waving to her and waving to Harry as well.
Harry had been telling himself each time they went to the library he would try and ask you out to dinner but he freaked out last minute just like right now. While walking back towards the car he told him self the next time he would actually do it and hope you accept.
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hehe hope y’all like this I got this random idea it was going to go differently but I still stayed with the original little plot. Reblog this hope y’all liked it. Also I did not proofread this so if yall see my grammar mistakes ignore lol.
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huitzilinthebudgie3 · 8 months
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Un Dia Mal
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Summary : In which we delve into the what if scenario with Marc and Y/n . What if Marc had waited…and asked Layla for help after the 3 months being gone. 
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Y/n had woken up slightly late (2 minutes after her normal time) , as she rushed to shower , brush her teeth , change for school and manage to consume some sustenance for the morning before school.
She rushed into the flat before tripping over one of Stevens pile of books with a thud and cringed at the dust that had been kicked up. She sneezed a few times as she rearranged the books into their previous jenga like tower before rushing into the kitchen. 
Where pda was on display….she made a face as she grabbed a mug for coffee and quickly served it as she turned back to find stern faces "Aww what's wrong little bug ?" She wrinkled her nose at the affectionate name "People are weird..between you guys , miguel and dana…this pda thing is gross" Layla chuckled at that kissing her forehead "Yeah , well you'll grow up eventually and have someone you'll want to kiss" She quirked a brow at that "Mother….i do not require affection…nor will i bend to the will of being bound to a mere-mortal" she said while drinking her coffee and eating some breakfast “You need to stop watching those supernatural dramas with her babe” Marc sighed. 
She felt a heavy gaze settle over her as she ignored the sensation focusing on her homework "How are your grades , kiddo ?" Marc asked as Y/n glanced up momentarily "Oh…uhh i have a 3 A's , 2 B's and one C" she said nonchalantly "That's good darling" her mom smiled "Oh…Ms.what's-her-face said she was gonna call you guys about an event or something" she said as both her parent gave her an expression that you could probably imagine.
"What about ? Do you have an F?" She glanced up with a quirked brow "No..something about cinnamon rolls? I dunno, this lady always talks to me , while i'm reading" she huffed in frustration. 
Her Dad chuckled "Honor Roll ? That's a good baby girl" he smiled "We're proud of you kiddo." She hummed "So you guys staying or you guys have to work again ?" She asked, trying to change the conversation and they stayed silent..which meant they would probably be gone again by the time she was home from school .
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Y/n sighed as she walked down the sidewalk to the bus , it was like 3 blocks from her house….but she had a 15 minute cushion. Anxiety was fun…especially when school was a long walk away . So she’d be 15 mins early to the bus stop , she sighed as she silently walked past a few buildings noting the new scenery.
New York was new for her , they'd be here for past 2 years..which in the span of her 16 years of life was short…they'd lived multiple places in the past…the longest being Los Angeles , where she picked up the subtle californian accent and slang.
New York was after London…which she had enjoyed slightly….but not a lot as her mom was now a hero…and around less lately …usually with her Dad…..and now she was being a baby.
They only started leaving her alone for extended periods of time. Assuring her it was temporary …which wasn't uncommon for her as her mom was an archeologist….and sometimes she was gone for a handful of days…to weeks..maybe a few months for her Dad…but Mom was usually gone for a few days at most .  Lately…well a year ago, It'd extended… they'd been gone 6 months …leaving the neighbors in charge ... .Miguel's Mother Conchata …. who invited her over for dinners and to hang out. Essentially adopting her temporarily.
And they'd just gotten back from a Month trip ... .a month ... .not that it bothered the practically adult teen…but it was an adjustment.
She was brought out of her thoughts by whimpering as she glanced down an alleyway sheepishly ….her instinct telling every hair on her body to stand and get the hell out of there.
Except she heard a whisper…her ears straining to hear the very faint whisper as she sighed walking a bit further in.
Her mind racing "This is some scary movie sh*t…ya idiot…" she huffed to herself "But theres a puppy in there or a dog…it's crying" she reasoned to herself pacing a bit as she walked away further to the bus stop before sighing "And …" she frowned turning around back to the alley and walking in and softly staring at the black dog…it's fur drenched in blood as 2 long gashes ran down from it's chest to it's ribs.
She frowned softly petting the damp fur "awww…it's okay……" she cooed "Well it's not okay cuz that looks bad…" she muttered to herself as she winced at the dogs whine …cuz it was a dog.
….it heard her as she winced "Oh it's okay , tis a flesh wound" she reassured …smiling faintly as a memory struct "You can probably walk it off" she said reassuringly petting the dog as it whined and growled softly. Before opening it's mouth in her lap and nuzzling something into her hand. She quirked a brow as she picked it up to look as the dog nuzzled her hand close before looking into her eyes and whining as if to communicate something. 
She hummed "Hey , i'll watch it and deliver it to your owner" she smiled softly  "And hey , if it's time …it's time. You won't hurt anymore and you can find peace and stuff " she reassured before adding "Unless………uhhhhhh…………….. you don't believe that or you're like some evil dog…" she hummed before chuckling "Or you have like unfinished business…then i guess you can haunt whoever did this to you" she smiled sheepishly noting that the poor thing had passed at the peace part as she sighed "I'll come back later and take you to the vet clinic" she smiled reassuringly petting it one last time before checking her watch and cursing as ran out of the alley way.
She cursed as she ran to the stop..and watched it pull away…not stopping as she sighed pinching her nose in frustration. And beginning the walk to the next bus that stopped a block away from her school
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Today was turning out shitty as she'd missed her bus for school. The dog was worth it…it sadly still died in an alley but…at least it had company. And she tried being …oh poor dog..she's talked its ear off !!! 
The good thing was that Miguel..her best-friend and neighbor held the door open as she ran into the building before it closed for the day. Miguel..ever the dorky nerd , he held his hand out as they walked.
 “C’mon where’s your math homework ? Did you ask your parents for help ?” she gave him a confused look “Homework ? Which class ?” Miguel fixed her with a drool look as they walked to stand in the line for the lockers room for P.E “The Algebra homework” Y/n hummed “Nah , i have a 20 point cushion from extra credit last week” she said nonchalantly as Miguel glared “En serio ?” he huffed in disbelief and disappointment. 
She shrugged “I can probably afford the 1 missing assignment “ Miguel sighed “Lunch , we are doing it before we have class. No way you're missing it , because we are going on the Honor Roll End of the semester trip!” he said firmly.
She snorted “You really think , my parents will let that happen ?” 
Miguel rolled his eyes “Sure , they're never home. They’d never know” that struck a nerve as she sighed "I guess…but they have to sign the permission slip" Miguel quirked a brow "They don't know you forge it ? Still think my mom sign" she glared "Dude , you forge your moms signature and you live with her full time" she countered as he held his hands up "Ay! Calmate! I was kidding"
*a few minutes later*
Y/n was in the middle of talking to miguel …waiting for roll call to begin when his girlfriend interuppted "Spector, you weirdo….hands bleeding " the older girl laughed as Y/n frowned before realizing that her hand was indeed bleeding as she tried recalling cutting herself so bad…it was actually dripping. 
Before recalling she had felt a sting when the dog had pushed the thing into her hand.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
The day went normally , she went to all 6 periods…studied with miguel…, his friends and his girlfriend. Who were all upperclassmen and teased her about being 'so much' younger as she rolled her eyes…she was only 3 months younger than Miguel.
Gabriel …..Miguel's little brother also hung out with them…but he was acting different with her now. They had been close once …back when Miguel had ignored and been mean to her…but it was a good close …that…..she couldn't explain it….she had tried once and it resulted in a Jake appearance…and now he acted like this…so..yeah.
So now Y/n just avoided him out of him being awkward. And that was that.
Anyways , she was currently on her way home…walking….as she'd taken the wrong bus and ended up in the complete opposite side of town.
So she sighed , walking down the road later because her dumb ass …again took the wrong bus and them tripped over her own feet.
She sighed remembering the dog…from earlier…and deciding that it would be best …to atleast take the poor thing to the vets to be cremated..but it probably cost money ..and she had like 20 from allowance cash…on her person. Assuming her parents were gone again.  She'd buy some dinner…from the taco stand by the apartment.
However….she felt bad..and poor dog had gone through enough. So she walked down the road to the alley way. She sighed handing over the money as the receptionist smiled telling her that they would call her when it’s body was ready for pick up.
She nodded before making her way home……
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Like usual….she walked home having missed her window for the taco stand…..something that probably would’ve lightened her day. She returned home to find a set of very upset parents….she was unsure how to respond and being her fathers daughter as her mother always mentioned.
She made a issue that could’ve been easily resolved with a ‘Sorry , it won’t happen again’ , placing a ‘It wasn’t my fault , there was a bus mix-up ,after study group , and then i fell and ….wait you guys are home ?! You guys didn’t text me …how was i supposed to know ! You guys aren’t ever home’ which earned her a rebuking and sent to her room. Honestly sometimes she didn’t think things through , she had failed to notice the streamers and cake set up as they called her out after her fathers and mom lectured her about talking back and paying attention.
And then they sat down , ate dinner….pizza….
…she hated pizza….she wanted and craved the bomb ass tacos from down the road….and then her parents handed her an enveloped with a black and white blob as she quirked a brow curiously glancing up from them and the blob before reality slammed down …and guess what….
“We’ll be home more , we moved work and we’ll be around for more…and we’ll spend more time with you….”
And she wasn’t paying attention as she heard a dull ringing in her ear….she felt a rush of different types of emotions…….
….Being the only kid for 16 years…comes with issues because… she had at some point begged for another sibling and she understood then and now that it had been hard for her parents even more because of her for some reason. Her mother always told her that she was and had been a unexpected blessing..so she’d always assumed it ended there. And now…NOW after 16 years they finally decided it was time…or fate whatever higher being ?!!!!
Not only that but , her whole life they’d moved , wandered and explored ….hell after school became worrisome they’d left her in the Americas  continue her education. So they weren’t willing to stop for her…but for this tiny little thing that wasn’t even existent….
She hadn’t even realized she’d gone to her room , nor the knocking on her door until the annoying bird that was a constant in her life sat on her bed. He always gave her strangely violent advice like …Jake but…more sagely.
He was currently staring at her as she sighed deeply “I fucked up , huh big bird?” she murmured.
“It’s not set in stone , little worm. You’d be surprised…what one word can do” she sniffled at that as tears welled up in her eyes “Why can’t i do shit right” she huffed wiping her eyes angrily “Sometimes i wonder if life would be easier for them without me…” she murmured as she shuffled to lean against the old birds legs as he patted her head in a affectionate pet kind of way “I assure you it wouldn’t” she snorted “How do you know..oh great spirit guide” she huffed “I just get in the way….i bet there wasn’t even a party with me. They were probably like ‘oh shit…one escaped the condom’ “ she huffed as the bird made a distressed noise “You are -something else , little bug” she shrugged “Normals boring…tried it when i was born…didn’t like it……” she chuckled as the bird smiled “Now wake up” she jolted up in her bed half asleep as she glanced around in pain as she stared at the wound on her palm from the dogs necklace….before screaming at the giant glowing canary eyes……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Note : I hope you liked it and let me know if you want another part 🙂
Have a wonderful Day/Night !!!!!!!!! :) :)
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foreveralwaysanauthor · 5 months
Text
Melaka Mystica (Part 2/3)
November 27, 2023
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Notes - This month has been pretty dang good as I got a car, marched in a parade, made Thanksgiving dinner on my own for the first time (and didn't burn anything other than my energy and my mom's only remaining brain cells 😂), but then my uncle's cat, Budweiser (Buddy) who was 17 and I loved as my own, passed away after getting his final fill of turkey. He was an amazing old boy and I'll miss him dearly, but at least he's with the rest of my family, getting all the attention he could ever want! Honestly, though, I'm proud of myself for getting this done before the end of the month with all that happened around me! This is pretty much just 33 pages of me going off the rails at 3am and typing until my hands hurt, but it's worth it in the end! Anyway, I might need to invest in a wrist brace for carpal tunnel at this point 🙈😂
You all are clearly in over your pretty, little heads.
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Metal dragged across old bricks, scraping a pile of leaves into a growing heap by the side of the road. As much as Mick hated being relegated to raking the sidewalk outside of her family’s shop, it got her away from the overbearing smell of incense packets and burning sage. Ever since the incident on Halloween, she had been suffering through her days at work. Things at the store had never been difficult for her before Halloween, but if the books Miles had been sending her excerpts of were anything to go by, all of her new problems were partly due to the possession she’d faced. Whatever had possessed her that day had left lingering traces of itself in her, making it damn near impossible for her to get through a workday. Whatever it had been, must have hated sage and incense, which, if she thought about it, made sense as negativity was supposed to be pushed out with a sage cleansing.
Regardless of how often she stepped out to breathe, her headaches only increased when someone would pull an incense stick from the wicker basket by the shop door to see how it smelled. She had tried to use one of the aromatherapy inhalers Carrie had bought her - something the blonde said she used to keep her sinuses clear during the winter if she had a show to perform in - but those only helped so much in the little shop. With customers pulling incense sticks from their packages to smell them properly, teens opening candles or essential oils, and groups of kids on field trips being obnoxious during Carrie’s performances, Mick was ready to down a bottle of Tylenol and pass out.
Thankfully, business had slowed down a considerable amount once Halloween passed. However, there were still the odd tourists coming and going in search of souvenirs and regulars looking for new crystals or a refill of their favorite incense. Once the local schools let out, they would get swarms of children and teenagers alike, pushing and shoving their way into the small store for cheap drinks or snacks. Some days were better than others, where they would get mostly older people coming in for replacement items or wanting a tarot reading. However, there were days when there would be an ignorant, middle-aged person looking to speak with the manager or owner - someone other than some “twenty-something little shit,” as most of them put it. On days like those, Mick wondered why her parents would give her the store if she had to deal with people like that all day. 
Then again, they weren’t entirely retired, and people who knew and loved her parents would sometimes come in asking specifically for them. Mick never minded stepping into the back room and quickly calling either of her parents, asking them to stop by. After Halloween, however, the stress of everything had been too overwhelming. More often than not, Mick wanted nothing more than to call up her parents and give the shop back to them, telling them that she just couldn’t handle it. However, she had managed to fight through the first week of November without having to call her parents for anything more than a friendly visit and felt as though things would get better over time.
Then came the eleventh. Due to Veteran’s Day, the schools were closed, and the city’s parade was set to go through the streets, honoring those who had served in any branch of the military - alive or dead. Parade days meant busy business, and, to her dismay, many of those who had marched through the streets had come to the Coven’s Cottage for a hot cider and some of Mrs Murphy’s homemade cider donuts. With so many different emotions coming at her from everyone who stepped in the door, Mick got overwhelmed quickly. After a sobbing woman and her children came inside, Mick realized she was shaking like a leaf. After sending the girl to the back to calm down, Miles and Carrie were left to fend for themselves while an overwhelmed Mick hid in the break room to cry through the pain of a slaughtering migraine. Once things had calmed down and Mick was able to think properly, Miles convinced the brunette to wave her white flag, and she asked her parents for help. 
Later that night, Mick had Miles and Carrie go home with her as witnesses so that her parents would see that she wasn’t just talking out of her ass. With his previous knowledge of magic, Brady was, understandably, concerned for his daughter’s health and mental well-being and began pacing - showing an anxious, overthinking side of the man that none of the young adults had seen before. On the other hand, while Mack had no magical ties of her own, the woman was determined to find a way to help her only child, looking into books and articles that could help cleanse Mick of any lasting effects from her possession. After sitting the older couple down once more and having them take the time to read over some of the things Miles and Carrie had found in their research for Mick, Mack and Brady agreed to put their daughter on lighter duty at their family shop, resuming their original positions as co-owners.
While the slightly lesser traffic in the shop and her parents helping out made things a bit easier on Mick’s headaches, she still felt physically drained just sitting in her family’s shop. Unlike Vivien or Royce, she didn’t have the ability to say her lungs were tight when someone tried to light sage or incense or claim her blood pressure was acting out whenever she got dizzy sitting at the register. In reality, with her parents and friends hovering almost every day, she was forced to get out and walk around town more frequently, giving her some fresh air. However, on days when the air outside was sitting in the forties, and the wind was like a cruel slap to the face, Mick despised being sent outside. She knew that, all too soon, the air would be too cold to breathe without a scarf over her face, and the ice on the ground would make it too difficult to make it from one place to another without slamming into the sidewalk, but that didn’t make her appreciate the moderately chilly autumn. 
Heaving a huff of frustration as a nearby car barrelled down the street to beat a changing traffic light, the icy breeze dragging off of the vehicle and scattering her hard work into the wind, and Mick rolled her eyes. She was sick of raking meaningless piles of leaves, sick of being pushed aside and asked to do menial tasks just because she had a hard time sitting around in the shop. She could have been doing so much more to help out around the shop! She could organize the storage room, put new stock out on the shelves, or help give aura readings or something - anything! She was so tired of being useless to everyone she cared about.
With a shake of her head, Mick sucked in a breath and sighed before turning back toward the shop. The bell above the door chimed - a replacement for the cackling witch sound they had put up for Halloween - and Mick leaned the rake against the wall by the door before tugging her gloves and hat off and shoving them into the pockets of the maroon, fleece-lined coat her parents had bought her years ago. The pocket zippers had been melted open after she had unceremoniously tossed the coat in front of the heater once, the faux fur lining around the hood was slightly matted after having used it for so many frigid winters, and the elastics in the cuffs of the sleeves had lost their grip a long time ago, but the coat kept her warm and, to Mick, that was all that mattered.
The smell of burning sage filled the small shop, and although Mick would have usually taken a big whiff of it to calm herself, she refrained as a woman with a bag of incense sticks stepped around her to leave. As Mick ditched her coat on the rack behind the counter, she stepped up behind her mom and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek before taking a caramel from the dish on the counter and making her way to the back room to see if Miles and Carrie were on their breaks yet. Instead of finding the pair curled up on the couch, talking through the entirety of their break, Mick found her dad sitting in her usual chair, a cup of something in one hand and his phone in the other.
Smiling to herself as she decided to make her presence known, Mick asked, “What happened to doing a tarot reading for Mrs Anderson?”
Looking up from his device with a grin, Brady replied, “She got what she wanted and left already.”
“Let me guess,” Mick began as she perched herself on the armrest of her dad’s chair, “she thought her husband was cheating again and wanted to see if it was her sister or the new neighbor?”
“Almost,” Brady chuckled, placing his phone on his leg as he handed Mick his drink for her to try. “She thought it could be the mailman.”
Grateful she hadn’t taken a sip of her father’s drink, Mick let out a bark of laughter, “She thought Mr Anderson - the pastor of their church - was having an affair with her husband?”
Brady hummed, nodding in confirmation as he rhetorically asked, “Who doesn’t she accuse her husband of cheating with?” 
Mick snickered as she handed her father his drink, “Ironic from the woman who has been divorced five times because of her cheating.”
With a shrug, Brady said, “It’s not our place to judge.”
“True.”
After taking a sip of his drink, Brady said, “Your mom and I are heading out early to meet with some friends from school who are back in town for the week. Do you think you, Miles, Carrie, and the kids can handle the shop until closing?”
Nodding, Mick smiled at the idea as she said, “Yeah, of course. We handled it for months on our own before.”
Groaning at the twinge of pain that had grown familiar in his lower back, Brady regretted all of the reckless things he had done in his teen years as he pushed himself out of his chair. Despite only recently turning forty, his body felt as though it belonged to someone nearing eighty. Brady suppressed a grimace as he stretched before turning to his daughter and saying, “That was before you were possessed by ancient magic.”
Taking in a deep breath, Mick slowly nodded in understanding. Regardless of how much she despised how easily that was everyone’s excuse for giving her lighter tasks, Mick understood where they were coming from. If what happened to her had happened to anybody else in her immediate circle, she would have acted the same. Offering her dad a slight grin, Mick allowed him to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “I get it, but honestly, I’m doing pretty well today.”
“Good,” Brady mused. “Try to keep it that way.”
“I will,” Mick claimed as the door to the basement opened, allowing Miles and Carrie to come in.
Brady hummed appreciatively before turning toward the young couple with a smile, “Did you two find that book I told you about?”
“We did,” Carrie said, offering the man her signature smile as Miles held up the thick hardcover book. “Do you really think it’ll help the kids?”
“It should,” Brady stated. “I didn’t get much use out of it, as you know, but it’s been in the family for many generations. If it helped them, why not let the kids use it?”
Miles nodded as he examined the book. The leather bindings were worn and peeling, the spine flexible yet delicate, and it smelled of an old library book that had been left on the shelves for a couple hundred years, but the pages were still crisp, and the ancient calligraphy was very clearly legible. While on the outside, the book certainly looked aged and well-loved, the pages still read as clear as day, making Miles question if it had some sort of protection charm that stood the test of time. Grinning to himself, Miles fleetingly wondered if the book in his hands was the origin of people saying not to judge books by their covers.
Lifting his gaze to meet Brady’s, Miles spoke, “Thanks again, Mr Birch. I know the kids would be interested in diving into actual spells and potions.”
Brady waved him off, “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of it, Miles. However, I do suggest asking your mother to help them with anything involving baking.”
“She is one of the best bakers in Salem,” Mick mused. 
Before Brady could say anything more, the back room opened, and his wife’s head poked inside. “I hate to interrupt,” Mack began, “but it’s almost two, Brady.”
Heaving a sigh, Brady clapped his hands and said, “Well, duty calls, kids.”
As her husband gathered his belongings, Mack asked, “Mick, honey, are you going over to Miles’ house after work?”
“I was thinking about it,” Mick shrugged. “The kids wanted to work on some beginner-level potions.”
“Are you staying for dinner?” Brady asked.
“She’d better,” Miles said before Mick could answer. “My mom said she’s making pizza casserole.”
Mick snickered, “I guess I’m staying for dinner then.”
“Alright,” Mack said with a smile, “well, we’ll be back home around six or seven to watch the eclipse if your father can get his butt in gear.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Brady claimed as he pulled his coat around his shoulders. Leaning down, Brady kissed the top of his daughter’s head before whispering to her, “Bring me back some of that casserole.”
“I will,” Mick said with a grin.
“You don’t need any casserole, Brady,” Mack claimed with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re going out to Hanna Devine’s.”
Brady’s expression said it all. Unlike most of the little bistros and restaurants in the city, Hanna Devine’s was a large building on the corner of a busy street that charged prices through the roof for a portion barely significant enough to qualify as a meal. Between the hassle of finding a parking spot and the extensive waitlist for a single table, the restaurant was usually only inhabited by insane people who didn’t mind paying forty dollars for a small piece of steak or twenty-five bucks for a side order of steamed vegetables. Despite attempting to get his point across with a pleading look, Brady found his wife’s piercing gaze and quickly schooled his expression as he sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”
Rolling her eyes with a smile, Mick turned her gaze back to her daughter and said, “If there’s enough, bring us both back some. Chances are, we’ll still be hungry when we leave.”
Making his way to the door of the room, Brady beamed, “This is why I love you.”
“Because I let you get leftovers?” Mack questioned as Brady kissed her cheek. “What about when we got married or when I had to endure nine months of Mick’s punches to my bladder?”
“Of course I loved you then,” Brady stated. “It’s just that I really wanted that casserole.”
“And because I let you have it,” Mack slowly stated, “that’s your primary reason for loving me now?”
As Brady floundered, scouring his mind for something to say, Mick snickered, “Way to word things, Dad.”
“Good luck getting out of that one,” Carrie chuckled.
“There’s a store you can stop at on the way to Hanna’s that sells shovels since you seem to be in a hurry to dig your own grave, Mr Birch,” Miles said with a grin.
“None of you are helping!” Brady exclaimed, looking around at the three young adults with a gleam in his eyes that begged for them to shut up.
Choosing to end her husband’s struggle, Mack snickered, patting him on the arm fondly, “I’m just screwing with you. Now, come on, let’s get on the road before school gets out, and we’re stuck behind eight different buses.”
With a sigh of relief, Brady relaxed, turning back toward the kids with a small smile as he said, “Be good, remember to lock up the shop, and please, for the love of all things holy, remember to bring us back some casserole if there’s any left.”
As Mick gave her dad a mock salute, Miles chuckled, “We’ve got everything under control.”
“Enjoy your dinner with friends,” Carrie said, offering the older couple a wave as they left the room. Once the door was closed, the blonde turned to Mick with a smile and asked, “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m fine, for once,” the brunette replied. “I haven’t had any headaches since this morning when the trash truck came, and I’ve gotten through most of the day without needing to step out.”
“That’s good,” Miles said thoughtfully as he set the book for the kids on the couch. “Do you feel up to taking the register until closing?”
Eager to feel useful again, Mick quickly nodded as she said, “Yeah, of course. Are you going to restock or are you going to pick up the kids?”
Checking his watch, Miles said, “I’ll probably pick them up. If I get there early and find their bikes, I’ll put them on the rack before the bell rings.”
Leading the way to the main room of the shop, Mick mused, “Soon, they’ll be needing a ride every day.”
“Especially since it snowed two nights ago,” Miles sighed as he rounded the counter.
“Don’t mention that word,” Carrie said with a shiver. “I was hoping it would hold off until Christmas or something and then never come back.”
“Wishful thinking,” Mick snorted.
Carrie sighed as she slumped against the counter, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “At least we’re not supposed to get any more for a while.”
“When did you hear that?” Mick wondered.
Tugging her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, Carrie swiped around for a moment before showing her friend her weather app. “My phone says the next week or so is clear.”
Mick examined the weather listing before tapping on the screen, “We’ve got rain on Saturday and Wednesday, though. That can become snow if it gets cooler out.”
“But the app says it’s just rain,” Carrie said hopefully.
“It’s New England,” Miles chuckled as he zipped up his jacket. “The forecast lies.”
Carrie let out a resigned sigh, “I know, but I’m staying as optimistic as possible.”
“Good luck with that,” Miles muttered, his breath brushing across Carrie’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “Do you guys want anything while I’m out?”
“A million dollars,” Mick joked.
“Weathermen who won't lie,” Carrie added.
“A will to live.” 
“Magical powers.”
Glancing between the pair, Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, “I meant things I can pick up from the gas station.”
“Ah,” Carrie breathed. “In that case, I’ll take some cherry Twizzlers.”
“I guess I’ll take some cheesy popcorn,” Mick said with a grin.
“Puffcorn or Smartfood?” Miles asked.
“Smartfood,” Mick said before thanking her friend.
“Weirdos,” Miles mused as he typed in their requests on his phone, knowing the pair would be sharing snacks in no time.
“Proud of it,” the two girls said in startling unison before turning to each other and laughing.
With a shake of his head and a fond smile, Miles pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out the door, passing the shop’s picture windows on his way to his Jeep. Smiling to herself, Mick turned her attention to the music playing over the store’s speakers, switching the radio station to one she knew both she and Carrie enjoyed. As something other than smooth jazz filled the shop, Carrie bopped her head to the beat with a smile before turning her gaze to Mick once more. 
The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. She had watched Mick struggle the first couple of days - the brunette unable to pull herself out of her thoughts. Carrie had spent some time talking things over with Mick during that time, listening to her ramble nonsensically about all that had happened to her and all the struggles she faced. The first two days, Mick had been in a daze, operating on a repetitive cycle out of habit more than anything. Carrie spent a lot of time helping at the register as Mick would often stare off into space or lock herself away in the back room due to headaches. The first few days were difficult as Mick asked people to give her time to think and process, but it seemed to everyone that she had closed herself off from everything and everyone. 
Mick’s relationships with everyone who was there that night had grown strained in that time - the only ones not suffering being Butchy and Lela, as they were only there for the aftermath. Whilst saying they hadn’t always gotten along well in school was an understatement, Carrie and Mick had grown close after Miles started dating the blonde. Over time, a bond had formed, but after Mick’s possession, Carrie could feel the distance between them growing once more. Everyone could. Though the brunette never outright pushed anybody away, they all knew she had come close to it more than once.
Carrie had never seen Mick so despondent and detached as she was in those first days. It took Miles climbing the tree in the Birch family’s backyard and climbing in through Mick’s window for her to begin talking to anyone who had been there. Understandably, Miles was the first person she opened up to as they had always been inexplicably close, but then she opened up to Carrie, and the blonde got to see more of the girl’s inner thoughts laid out before her like a jigsaw puzzle.
The strain Mick felt was palpable. Her hurt was nearly insurmountable, the stress was overwhelming, and the pain she felt whilst reliving and retelling her side of things was evident in her eyes. It took just shy of a week before Mick felt comfortable having the kids around her again. The thought that whatever was left in her might come back to hurt the kids had plagued her night and day, but after hearing that Vivien blamed herself for the older girl being distant, Mick forced herself to meet with them in the Common. They sat on opposite sides of the pavilion Saturday night, Mick asking Miles to tie her to the table with a scarf to keep her from hurting anybody, and that was the first time Carrie felt like crying about Mick’s situation. The thought that the bubbly, doting brunette was so afraid of hurting the kids made Carrie saddened and sick at the same time. Mick didn’t deserve to be scared of every move she made.
By the end of their conversation that night, things had begun to heal, but anyone who knew them could still feel the remnants of strain between Mick and Vivien. Things were slowly getting better between them, but Carrie quickly took note of the wistful glimpses Vivien would sneak of the older girl. Though Carrie, like everyone else, was sure things would return to normal - or some semblance of it, at the very least - she knew it would take time. 
Listening to Mick hum along to the radio, Carrie glanced around to guarantee the shop was empty of customers before clearing her throat and asking, “Speaking of magical powers, I heard that Vivien was trying to find a way to give you some the other day.”
Brown eyes lifted from Mick’s phone and fleetingly met Carrie’s azure gaze before Mick shrugged and returned her focus to her phone, “She was, yeah.”
“I think it’s sweet that she’s trying so hard.”
To Carrie’s chagrin, Mick only shrugged again, “I guess so, but I wish she wouldn’t.”
“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned. “I thought you wanted powers like theirs?”
“That was before I was possessed,” Mick admitted, meeting Carrie’s gaze once more. “I would have done anything for some magic back then.”
“But now?”
“Now I’m scared to even think about having magic.”
Carrie’s smile faltered at the weight of Mick’s statement. In a way, she should have expected that to be Mick’s answer, but in reality, she hadn’t thought about it from the brunette’s perspective. Vivien had gone to Carrie looking for help researching how to give someone magic, and although the pair had spent hours scouring through old books filled with runes and spells and potions, they hadn’t found anything that would allow Vivien to do what she wanted to.
Attempting to appear unfazed, Carrie asked, “How come? With your family’s long, magical bloodline, I would’ve throught you’d want to follow them.”
“I did,” Mick sighed, setting her phone aside in favor of the conversation at hand. “I wanted it more than anything. But now that I know how dangerous I could be if I let power get to my head, I’m sort of glad my dad cut off the line when he did.”
Taking in a slow breath, Carrie asked, “That really bothered you, huh?”
Mick hummed with a nod, “It’s hard to act as though it doesn’t, but I’m trying. I just-” Mick cut herself off with a sigh, “I wish I never read that damn book.”
“What-?”
Before Carrie could get anything more out, Mick cut her off, “If I’d never read that book, I wouldn’t have to live with constant headaches or people looking at me like I’m made of glass or everyone acting as though they need to walk on fucking eggshells around me!” Stopping to take in a breath, Mick ran her hands over her hair before sighing, “What hurts the most is living with the fact that all of this is my fault.”
Though Carrie didn’t want to push her luck with Mick, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How on earth is any of this your fault?”
“If I hadn’t tried to weasel my way into magic,” Mick began slowly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with nothing but sincerity in her caramel eyes, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“It wasn’t like you read the book on purpose,” Carrie offered. “Even Butchy said that Casper knocked it over and you just read the first page you came across.”
“He’s right,” Mick confirmed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that, if I hadn’t made the black flame candle or been so determined to give myself magic, none of this would have happened.”
Carrie sighed, placing a hand on Mick’s arm in the hope that it offered the girl some semblance of comfort, “You don’t know that for a fact.”
“That’s just it,” Mick said, a dry, humorless chuckle falling from her lips as her exhausted brown eyes found Carrie’s vibrant blue, “I do.”
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“Have a great night,” Royce said as he handed a paper bag to the last customer of the day. He didn’t know how Miles and the girls could handle working there all day, dealing with people in various moods, and handling children being generally obnoxious; he could only handle it for a few hours without wanting to leave. He didn’t mind most of the people who came and went, but there were a select few who were just pure negativity. While Mondays were usually slow in the shop, Royce was surprised to find the clock already ticking over to five as he looked up at the clock. Maybe the time had flown because he, Bentley, and Vivien had the chance to get their homework done between customers for once. Or, as Miles had teasingly suggested, it was due to the fact that he kept watching Vivien help people find crystals.
Royce discretely rolled his eyes at the thought - of course, Miles would tease him for something so small. It was payback for when Royce teased the shit out of Miles when he got with Carrie. Although Miles kept his relationship with Carrie under wraps from their mom, he hadn’t been so lucky when it came to his brothers. At first, his relationship with Carrie was nonexistent, but after a little over a year of them being together and seeing their mom gradually grow to enjoy having the blonde around, Royce found himself not minding Carrie nearly as much as he had initially. Now that he got along alright with Carrie, it was easier to tease Miles about the relationship, ironically giving Miles the right to tease him about Vivien in return.
It wasn’t like Miles and Bentley hadn’t teased him about his fondness for Vivien long before Carrie came into the picture, but it seemed as though Miles felt the situation evened out the playing field. It made sense in a way. Not only was Vivien one of his best friends, but everyone around them knew he had a thing for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret. In a way, he was sure Vivien knew as well, but he couldn’t tell how she felt on the matter. She never pushed him away - it wasn’t in her nature to anyway - but she also never acted upon what was going on. If she felt anything toward him, she never said, but then again, he never really did either. All he knew was that he adored her and, regardless of her feelings toward him, he would care about her until she told him to do otherwise.
Tearing his gaze away from Vivien once more as the door clicked shut, the bells tinkling a final farewell, Royce took in a deep breath and looked around the store for his younger brother. Almost on cue, Bentley pushed himself from his seat on the floor where he’d been reading comic books and scurried to the door, flipping the lock into place with a smile. Turning back to his brother and Vivien, the blond excitedly asked, “Is it potion time now?”
Chuckling as Royce tugged the cash register drawer from its confines, Vivien nodded, “I think it is.”
Setting the drawer on the shelf under the register, Royce leaned against the counter and asked, “Why don’t you go back and tell them that the lady finally left and that we can leave?”
Sending his brother a mock salute, Bentley beamed and set his comic book on the counter before saying, “Sir, yes, sir,” and taking off for the back room, the door swinging back and forth upon his departure. Royce shook his head, sighing as Bentley disappeared. For the greater part of the last week, he’d been subjected to Bentley’s ramblings on potions and which ones he was willing to make. While Royce was glad his younger brother was excited, he sort of wished it wasn’t the only thing they talked about when nobody else was around.
Vivien chuckled, leaning against the counter with a smile, “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that he’s so interested in all this witchy stuff.”
“Yeah, it is,” Royce agreed with a nod. Taking in a breath, Royce began sorting the money from the cash register as Vivien picked up the logbook and started writing down how many of each bill they had. As he finished with the twenties and set them aside, Royce turned to Vivien and asked, “Wait, didn’t you say something earlier about a magic thing you needed to talk about?”
Penciling in the number of bills Royce had counted, Vivien glanced up and nodded, “I did, but let’s finish this first and we’ll talk with the others about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm.”
Despite his visible skepticism, Royce gave the brunette a slight nod and said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”
Vivien nodded her confirmation before urging Royce to continue counting. By the time they were done and the money was put into the safe under the register, the shop’s speakers had been turned off, and the streetlamps outside were on, moths fluttering around them and casting shadows on the sidewalk. Closing the safe and locking it, Vivien followed Royce to the back room where Mick and Miles were debating whether the herbs they had received in the latest shipment should be placed with the hanging herbs or ground and placed with the jars of herbs while Bentley talked Carrie’s ear off on the couch. As Royce latched the swinging door to keep it from moving, Mick paused in her tirade, glancing over at the young pair as they entered the room.
Sensing Mick’s gaze as the conversations in the room stalled, Vivien slowly turned in the older girl’s direction, raising a hand in a wave as she spoke, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Mick returned as Miles dropped the issue in favor of observing the interaction. Vivien and Mick hadn’t talked often since Halloween, and although Miles had encouraged both of them to step up and put in the effort, his advice seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the two danced on eggshells around each other. After Miles nudged his longtime friend, encouraging her to put in a bit more effort, Mick smiled and said, “I like your hoodie.”
Vivien glanced down and allowed herself to grin. Her blue and yellow hoodie had been bought off of Etsy and was embroidered with a subtle nod toward the most recent Five Nights at Freddy’s game - a small logo for the Security Breach’s daycare declaring Vivien as a staff member. She had bought more than just the one hoodie from the Etsy shop, blasting her way through most of her first official paycheck as she bought one of each of her favorite characters’ fleece hoodies and matching sweatpants. Despite her love of the game, Vivien had chosen to take the more discreet route in choosing her outfit for the day, keeping things moderately simple to avoid unnecessary attention. Although her hair had covered the design for most of the day, she had pulled her hair back while counting the money, so it seemed only fitting that the one person who had gotten her interested in the franchise was also the one to notice the detail. 
Lifting her head, Vivien smiled and began indirectly quoting the game, “I figured we could finger paint, tell some stories, maybe drink some Fizzy Fazz until our heads explode, and then stay up all night.”
“As fun as that sounds,” Carrie began, “I would much rather we keep our heads intact, thank you very much.”
Sighing as she theatrically rolled her eyes, Vivien huffed, “You’re no fun!”
Mick let out a slight snicker, “As long as we keep the lights on, I doubt any of us will lose our heads.”
As Vivien snorted, dissolving into giggles at Mick’s hinted joke, Carrie glanced between the pair and said, “I’m just going to assume that’s something from the game.”
“It is,” Bentley confirmed.
“And you’re not missing much,” Miles added as he crossed the room to gather his belongings.
“Just a murderous animatronic daycare attendant who hunts you down and kills you if you turn the lights off,” Royce finished with a smirk aimed at the blonde, “that’s all.”
“That’s all?” Carrie echoed, mildly concerned that they had all found an interest in such a game. Attempting to process the thought as both Royce and Bentley nodded in confirmation, Carrie’s eyes widened slightly before closing as she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know how you can find that entertaining.”
“You would if you played it,” Vivien chuckled. 
“Doubtful.”
Choosing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand, Miles leaned against the armrest of the couch and tucked his hands into his pockets as he said, “Anyway, does anyone need to grab anything before we go?”
Despite the others shaking their heads, Royce said, “Viv said she wanted to talk about something after closing.”
Though she hated the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on her, Vivien was surprisingly calm as she nodded, “I did, yeah.”
“What’s up?” Bentley asked as he moved to sit criss-cross on the couch.
Taking a deep breath as Mick pulled a chair out from the table they usually ate lunch at on weekends and sat down, Vivien thought back to her time at school as she said, “I was on my way to the vending machine at school and I ran into Serena.”
“How is she doing now that she and that other girl have gone their separate ways?” Carrie asked.
“Yeah,” Mick began, “are they leaving you guys alone now?”
“I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, when I went to walk around her, she grabbed my arm and it was like the whole school lost color.”
Curiously, Miles’ head tipped to the side as he asked, “Like the lights went out?” 
“I didn’t notice anything,” Bentley mentioned.
“No, not like that,” Vivien sighed. Taking a moment to think of something to compare it to, Vivien gestured to the group as she spoke, “Okay, do you guys remember that scene from Harry Potter where Harry meets Dumbledore in the limbo version of the train station and there’s that creepy Voldemort thing under the bench?”
As everyone began nodding, Mick asked, “After Voldemort tried killing him in the forest?”
Vivien nodded, “Exactly. Serena held my arm and the whole school looked like that. Then, when I looked back at her, she was standing in some kind of glass case, banging on the walls and screaming.”
As though Vivien had unplugged a hidden speaker, the room grew silent. Carrie’s sapphire eyes flickered to Mick before landing back on Vivien as Mick’s chocolate eyes flitted down to the floor. Miles took in the seriousness and sincerity in Vivien’s face before moving his gaze onto Mick, wondering to himself if what Vivien described was something she had seen two weeks prior. As Bentley searched Vivien’s face for any sign that she was joking, Royce took a seat beside his younger brother. 
Looking up at Vivien, the middle Murphy brother asked, “Is that why you looked so pale when I found you?”
“That’s part of it,” Vivien nodded. “My blood pressure was low anyway, but the whole Serena thing didn’t exactly help.”
Miles uncrossed his arms as he asked, “How are you now?”
“I’m fine, but that’s not what matters right now,” Vivien sighed. “After Serena let me go, everything around us went back to normal, but there was something about her that just felt off to me.”
Cautiously, Carrie asked, “Like what?”
“Like she wasn’t herself,” Vivien explained. 
“She’s always kind of snarky and rude,” Royce mused with a roll of his eyes.
Vivien nodded, “Well, yeah, but there was this sort of direct, emotionless, borderline-cold tone under it all. It was kind of like - well, I don’t know, actually. It’s hard to describe.”
For the first time since Vivien explained what her interaction with Serena was like, Mick spoke, her tone soft but tense as she asked, “Sort of like she was in the car, but someone else was at the wheel?”
Vivien’s head turned, slowly finding Mick’s form as the brunette’s head lifted, her dark eyes finding Vivien’s with relative ease. Taking in the older girl’s expression, Vivien took in a breath and slowly nodded as she muttered, “Yeah.”
Although the room had grown tense, Carrie scooted to the edge of her seat and attempted to smile as she suggested, “That doesn’t mean Serena’s possessed. She could be having trouble at home or something; that can change someone’s behavior.” 
“But what about the vision Viv saw?” Bentley asked.
Before Carrie could answer, Mick spoke again, “From what I remember, I never gave anybody visions.”
“You didn’t,” Miles confirmed with a slight shake of his head, “but that doesn’t rule it out entirely.”
Trying to offer something other than the worst possible scenario, Carrie stood from the couch and made her way to the growing pile of books the kids had left by the bookshelf as she said, “What if it’s something different entirely?”
“Like what?” Royce asked sarcastically. “It sounds a lot like Serena is possessed.”
“And maybe she is,” Carrie said as she began pulling books from the pile and setting them aside. Taking a book from the stack with a smile, Carrie held it up for the others to see as she asked, “But what if there’s a different way to go about this? That way, we don’t have to go about doing another exorcism.”
“What do you have in mind?” Mick asked as Carrie began flipping through the old, worn book.
“My first thought was astral projections,” Carrie confessed. “I’ve been looking through some of these books to see if I could figure out how the kids’ abilities could branch into other forms of magic over time and training, but the only one to offer any help was this one.”
Peering over the blonde’s shoulder as the pages flicked by, Vivien asked, “What did you find?”
Carrie hummed until she found the proper page, pointing to an extensive paragraph as she began reading aloud, “‘Astral projection, also known as astral travel or out-of-body experience, is the practice of separating one’s consciousness from their physical body and traveling to the astral realm. The astral realm is said to be a non-physical realm that exists parallel to the physical world, where energy and consciousness exist in a different form. In this realm, one can explore different planes of existence, communicate with spirits and other entities, and gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the universe. Some records in history suggest that witches as far back as medeival times used these projections to communicate with others possessing the same abilities. One of the most infamous records of astral projection was written by a supposed witch who was later hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials. The document speaks of witches talking to one another on another plane of existence, warning other accused witches of what was to come.’”
Following along as best as she could over Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien said, “That could be what happened.”
“It sounds like it,” Bentley mused.
“I would prefer that over having to deal with another possessed person roaming through Salem,” Mick piped up.
“Hang on,” Royce began as he stood from his seat. “What if it’s both?”
“Both?” Miles asked.
Royce nodded, “What if the real Serena is possessed, but she’s projecting to Vivien as a way of asking for help?”
After a moment of silence passed over the room, Mick said, “That makes sense. When I was possessed, it felt like I was trapped inside myself. The real Serena being trapped inside a glass box is sort of fitting.”
“So,” Bentley drawled as he glanced around at everybody, “what do we do about it?”
“We could lure her to the church,” Miles offered.
“No, we can’t,” Mick sighed. “Most of the churches in the area are either having meetings for Thanksgiving food donations or hosting events tonight.”
“How did you find that out?” Royce asked with a raised eyebrow.
“My parents were going to use one of the dining halls for their school reunion,” Mick shrugged.
“Alright,” Vivien breathed. “Where else could we take her?”
“What about a cemetery?” Carrie suggested. “Those are hallowed ground, right?”
“Yeah, because nothing screams serial killer quite like luring someone to a cemetary after dark,” Royce snipped, earning himself a nudge to the ribs from Bentley.
“How about we lure her to our house?” Miles offered.
“Are you insane?” Bentley asked as everyone else began arguing over the thought. “Not only would it be stupid to bring a possessed witch to our house, but Mom’s home tonight. If Serena tries to fight us, we can’t fight back in front of her.”
“Hear me out,” Miles began. Once the room was quiet once more, he continued, “Because mom bakes a lot, she’s got a ton of salt in the pantry. If we go around the house and put up a salt ring to protect ourselves inside the house, Serena can’t touch us.”
“Her magic would bounce off,” Mick said thoughtfully. 
Miles nodded, “Exactly.”
Once the concept had settled within everyone’s minds, Royce spoke up, “How are we going to get her there?”
Before Miles could come up with anything, Carrie gestured between Vivien and Royce as she asked, “Do either of you share a class with her that has a test coming up; something that would require a lot of notes for?”
Vivien shook her head, “We both have science with her, but we don’t have any tests until next Friday.”
“I have geography with her,” Royce sighed. “We’ve got a test on Thursday for the semester’s closing grades.”
“Well,” Carrie began, a devilish smile tugging at her glossy lips, “you could text her and say that you have a bunch of notes for the test that she can use if she needs them.”
“How would that draw her in?” Miles wondered.
“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Vivien explained, “but if she is possessed, whatever it is won’t know that.”
“Exactly,” Carrie agreed, beaming proudly at the brunette.
Royce thought for a moment before slowly speaking, “So I lure her to the house with geography notes - that much I get - but what do we do after that?”
“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Mick said as she rose from her seat. “For now, let’s gather some protection crystals and get going before we lose our opportunity.”
“What do you suggest?” Carrie asked.
Instead of answering directly, Mick turned to Vivien on her way to the front of the shop and asked, “Vivien?”
“What?” the young brunette asked as she followed Mick to the shop.
With a proud smile, Mick held the door open for the others as she explained, “This is your area of expertise, gremlin; what do you think?”
As a surge of pride coursed through Vivien’s veins, she beamed. Reining herself in, Vivien glanced over the round tables covered in baskets of crystals before humming, “Maybe some black obsidian or malachite to keep toxic energy away, and moldavite for some good luck?”
Royce and Bentley descended on the tables, pulling crystals from their containers and tucking them in their pockets before making their way back to where Vivien and Mick stood. “Anything else?” Bentley asked.
“What about fluorite or citrine?” Royce asked. “You said those are pretty lucky.”
“They are,” Vivien agreed, “but more for personal luck than anything.”
“I think we should be good with what we’ve got,” Mick said. “I have some sage in my car that we can leave on the front steps to ward off any evil intentions.”
“And we’ll have enough salt to keep her out just in case,” Miles agreed as he fished his keys from his pocket.
Clapping her hands together, Carrie smiled as she said, “In that case, let’s hit the road before it gets much darker out.”
Though the others followed Carrie and Miles to the back room to lock up, Vivien stared at the crystals before her, wondering if she had made the right call. Glancing back over her shoulder at the group, Vivien sighed and took a step forward, shoving a small slab of black onyx, a few pieces of smithsonite, and a couple of shards of moonstone into her pocket before turning and following the others out, slipping the lock into place behind her. Trailing behind the others, Vivien picked up the pace, pulling the already locked door closed after grabbing her coat and backpack from the hooks on the back wall and rushing to catch up with the others who had already begun rounding the building. As she tugged on her coat, Vivien allowed Bentley to hold the gate open for her, thanking him as she slung her backpack strap onto her shoulder.
Miles unlocked his Jeep and opened the passenger side doors for his brothers and girlfriend as Mick made her way to the beat-up Volkswagen she had bought from one of the older guys who frequented the shop. Before Viviuen could climb inside the Jeep, Miles closed the door behind Bentley. “Not so fast, kid.”
Looking up at her pseudo-older brother, Vivien raised an eyebrow and asked, “What; are you planning on shoving me in the trunk?”
“Not after last time,” Miles said with a snort. “Look, Ethan left his junk in the back seat this morning and I barely have enough room for the boys as it is.”
Noticing the way Miles refused to look her in the eyes, Vivien sighed, “You just want me to ride with Mick, don’t you?”
Apologetic, icy blue eyes flickered up to meet Vivien’s as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, mon étoile, but I think she needs you now.”
Slowly tearing her gaze away from Miles and letting her eyes drift onto the older brunette who appeared to be struggling to open her old bus’ driver’s door, Vivien let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but you owe me.”
“I know,” Miles said with a gracious smile, bringing an arm around the girl as he walked her to the back of the Jeep. “Thank you, kiddo.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vivien brushed off, leaning her head against Miles for a moment before moving out from his hold and making her way to the old Volkswagen just a few parking spaces down. Upon approaching the vehicle, Vivien called out, “Did you lock yourself out again or something?”
Jumping at the sudden voice, Mick looked up and laughed, “For once, no. The doors have been sticking lately because of the cold. Do you think you could climb in through the passenger side and kick it open?”
“Why not just climb in before me and we can go?” Vivien asked, gesturing to the car as Miles started his Jeep.
“I have the door partially open and it won’t stop dinging unless I close it, but how come you’re riding with me?” Mick asked as she let go of the latch. “I thought you’d be riding with Miles and Carrie.”
Vivien shrugged in an attempt to act nonchalant as she rounded the large vehicle and yanked the passenger door open, “Ethan left a bunch of shit in the car, so there’s no room, but I also just wanted to ride with you anyway.”
“You do?” Mick asked as she stepped away from the door, her voice muffled by the thick metal and glass of the car.
“Well, yeah,” Vivien said as she dropped into the driver’s seat and began kicking the door. Once the heavy door popped open, she leaned out to Mick and said, “I feel like we haven’t really hung out since Halloween and I miss you.”
Hoping the younger girl couldn’t see the pain in her eyes as she took her spot in the driver’s seat, Mick spoke softly, “I miss you too, gremlin.”
As the old bus’ engine roared to life and the clunky radio sputtered through static to the first available station, Vivien tugged her seatbelt on and offered the girl to her left a smile as she said, “I’m sort of glad you missed me.”
“You are?” Mick asked as she pulled onto the streets behind Miles’ Jeep. “How come?”
“It felt like you were shutting me out after everything that happened,” Vivien admitted as she watched the shop’s storefront disappear in the rearview mirror.
“I’m sorry,” Mick muttered. “Things have been hard since Halloween.”
“I get it,” Vivien nodded, looking over to the older girl. “Believe me, after almost setting our kitchen on fire the other night, I get it.”
Despite offering the younger girl a laugh, Mick shook her head, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite the same.”
Vivien chuckled but took in a deep breath as she admitted, “I get what you mean, though. Things just aren’t the same anymore.”
“They aren’t.”
For a while, the only noise in the car was the radio between them, the sound of Harry Styles’ voice coming through the faint static of the scratchy speakers as his song As It Was began playing just loud enough to be heard over the engine. Vivien tried not to scoff at the irony of the situation, choosing to take in a slow, deep breath as she softly admitted, “Sometimes, I wish we never got magic in the first place.”
Pulling to a stop at a red light, Mick’s dark eyes flitted over to her young friend as she asked, “Why on earth would you want that?”
A ghost of a grin tugged at Vivien’s lips as she turned to Mick and admitted, “If we never got our magic, things never would have changed. The boys and I wouldn’t have to keep secrets from everyone we care about, we would all be able to live normal lives, you never would have been possessed…” taking in a deep breath, Vivien allowed her words to drift off and looked away as she finished, “you and I would still be close.”
“We can be close again,” Mick reminded her as she reached over and took hold of Vivien’s hand. “We can go back to our mall trips and sleepovers and stuff. It’ll just take some time getting there again.”
“I know,” Vivien breathed, squeezing Mick’s hand as she turned back toward the older girl. “It’s just… there are times when I miss just being a normal girl - worrying about prom and grades and friendships instead of having to worry about setting fire to my chemistry lab or summoning some ancient demon because I read a spell wrong.”
Sending the girl a wary look as the light turned green, Mick asked, “You didn’t actually do those things, did you?”
“No,” Vivien laughed as Mick pulled away from the traffic light. “I’m just saying that things were easier before and I sort of miss having that simplicity.”
Nodding in understanding, Mick took in a deep breath and said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I think you guys are doing amazingly. You’ve really come into your powers.”
“Thanks,” Vivien said with a smile. “I just wish I could give you some of it.”
Sending the girl a quick smile as she turned onto Forrester Street, Mick said, “I know you do, gremlin, but I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Mick said as she pulled into the driveway behind Miles. “I’ve sort of come to terms with it all.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Vivien offered.
“It is.” As Mick pushed her door open and released Vivien’s hand, she said, “Just know that I’m grateful to be able to watch you and the boys grow into your magic.”
“Thanks, Mickie,” Vivien said with a smile.
Mick nodded before siding out from her side of the car and slamming the door shut, making her way to the front of the vehicle, where Vivien met up with her. Following the others inside through the garage, Royce said, “I texted Serena, and she said she would be over after having something for dinner.”
“That should give us more than enough time to salt the house,” Miles said. 
Bentley hurried up the steps to the door leading inside the house as he said, “I’ll distract Mom if you guys want to start grabbing salt.”
Stepping inside the kitchen, however, the group was surprised to find Dorothea tending to the crock pot on the kitchen counter. The older woman turned to her children and their gaggle of friends with a smile as she spoke, “You’re late.”
“Sorry, Mama,” the Murphy brothers replied on instinct.
Dorothea brushed them off with a slight wave before urging them into the kitchen, “Come get a bowl. I think we’ll eat in the living room tonight. We can watch a movie if you’d like.”
Cautiously stepping up to fulfill his role, Bentley said, “That sounds great, Mama, but can we set aside some food for Mick’s parents first? They’re going to something at Hanna Devine’s, and they said they’d still be hungry later.”
“That’s fine,” Dorothea claimed, glancing over Bentley at the girl in question. “You should know I always make enough for leftovers.”
“Thanks,” Mick said with a smile. 
As soon as the woman turned to pull bowls from the cabinet, Miles grabbed Royce by the wrist and pulled toward the pantry. However, before they could do more than open the door, Dorothea’s voice stopped them, “Not so fast, boys.” Stilling against the door, Miles and Royce shared a startled look before leaning back to see their mother slowly turn back toward them with a knowing look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Grabbing popcorn for movie night?” Royce offered tentatively.
“No need, I already got it out,” the older woman said, gesturing to the box of microwavable popcorn bags on the counter. “What were you looking for this time? More salt?”
Miles tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he stammered, “Wh-What? What are you- what do you mean?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice all of my salt going missing on Halloween,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “Or Royce’s laundry not needing to be done at all in the last two weeks, or the cookies in the jar never moving despite the crumbs all over the counter, or Bentley’s chocolate milk magically refilling every morning when I’m not looking.”
Stunned by the woman’s intuition, Bentley’s eyes widened as he slowly turned back toward his mom and asked, “You saw that?”
“I’m not blind, mon âme,” Dorothea told Bentley, a glimmer of something knowingly mischievous in her eyes as she smiled at her youngest. “Even without my own magic, I would be able to figure it out eventually.”
“Your own magic?” Carrie repeated curiously.
“You have magic?” Mick asked.
“That I do, lutin d’eau,” Dorothea said with a nod. “How else would my children have their abilities?”
“My parents don’t have magic,” Vivien said with a shrug.
Sending the young girl a look that made her begin doubting herself, the woman asked, “Are you sure about that?”
Vivien opened her mouth to reply but found the words dying off in her throat as she slowly admitted, “Not anymore.”
“So, wait,” Miles began, “Mom, you’re a witch?”
Dorothea nodded, “Have been since I was about sixteen, yes.”
“And you knew we had magic?” Royce asked.
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Dorothea chuckled. “Most people who have had their magic for a while can tell when another magical person is around. The energy is different.”
“What are your powers?” Bentley asked.
Gesturing to the food on the counter, Dorothea claimed, “Most of the time, I use magic in my foods. Before you leave the house, I make breakfast with protection charms or herbs. Before bed, you have some of my special cookies to make you sleep peacefully. I make sure that, no matter what, you are protected and happy while eating the things you like.”
Although every other person looked reasonably impressed with the matriarch’s claim, Miles was the first to ask, “How did we not know?”
“Because it’s all you’ve ever known from me,” Dorothea shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t always a master chef or baker.”
With his jaw practically on the floor, Royce grinned as he asked, “Have you ever spelled us without us knowing?”
“Of course,” the woman replied. “Why do you think I always offered you goodies when you thought you would be in trouble?”
“Those were magic brownies?” Vivien asked, stepping up to the woman and rifling through one of the overhead cabinets before pulling down a glass jar of cookies and brownies. Setting the jar on the counter and pulling a brownie from the jar, she asked, “Can I have one? What will it make me do?”
Curious to see the outcome, Dorothea smirked and gestured for the girl to eat the baked treat, “Why don’t you tell me?”
Vivien eyed the brownie for a moment before quickly taking a bite, keeping anyone from stopping her. As Carrie gasped and Mick and Miles stepped closer, Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head with an amused smile, making them stop in their tracks as Vivien hummed around the brownie, “You always make the best brownies.”
“Thank you,” Dorothea chuckled. 
“No, like, seriously,” Vivien muttered as she swallowed. “I swear, if I ever get married, I would want a giant tray of just your brownies instead of a cake.”
“I’ll be sure to write that down,” the woman said with a smile. “Now, do me a favor and turn toward your friends.”
Not one to disobey the woman, Vivien turned, fluttering the fingers of her free hand in greeting as she took another bite of her brownie, “Now what?”
“Tell me what you think of each of them.”
Glancing curiously at the older woman, Vivien shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth before allowing her gaze to land on Miles as she spoke, “Miles is the older brother I always wanted but never got. I can always call him if I need help with anything, and he’s supportive of everything I do. If it weren’t for him and Riven, I would be overworking myself constantly and struggling with a lot of mental health issues.”
Despite appearing minutely worried for Vivien as she took a final bite of her brownie, Miles’ expression softened as he asked, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Vivien said, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have a tendency to throw myself into things without any regard for my own well-being, but you always make me step back and think first. Riven helps when he can, but you’re always there for me, sort of like the big brother I always pictured in my head, but never got in real life.”
Before Miles could say anything more, Dorothea nudged the girl and asked, “What about Mick, Carrie, or the boys?”
“Well,” Vivien began, “Mick has known me since I was a baby and has been looking out for me like a sister for as long as I can remember. We used to hang out a lot, but since she was possessed on Halloween, she’s been distant.” Mick’s gaze fell to the old, creaky planks of wood beneath her feet, but she didn’t get much time to think as Vivien said, “I don’t know how to approach her most of the time, but I love her no matter what.” 
Carrie placed a hand on Mick’s arm, sending the brunette a smile as her gaze snapped up to Vivien once more. “We’ll work on it together,” Mick offered.
“I know,” Vivien said. “Anyway, as for Carrie, I wasn’t sure what to think of you growing up because Mick said you were stuck up and prissy, but Miles liked you because you because you got along really well when you worked together on a project. Also, when the town was doing The Wizard of Oz a few years back, I wanted to be Dorothy, but you got the role instead because I was way too young, and I didn’t like that at the time which made me not like you until we started working on the show together and you were actually pretty cool with me. I really like you now and think that you’re a great addition to our little group.”
Despite the evident confusion on Vivien’s face as she finished speaking, Carrie’s signature smile appeared as she thanked the younger girl. Before giving Vivien the chance to ask questions, Dorothea cut in, “What about Bentley? How do you feel about him?”
As though a rubber band had snapped her back into place, Vivien’s gaze landed on Bentley, and she began, “Bentley is a lot like Oliver, and I would protect him with my life if I had to. He’s like this little golden retriever puppy that just showed up in my life one day, and I decided to keep him out of love. Even though he plays it off like no big deal, he’s very talented and is very emotionally intelligent. He knows when someone isn’t feeling right and will go out of his way to help them. He’s been family to me practically my whole life, and I think that, if platonic soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely one of mine.”
Deciding to wrap everything up instead of talking about what Vivien had said, Bentley looked to Royce and gestured to him as he asked, “What about Rolls?”
“Actually,” Dorothea interrupted, placing a hand over Vivien’s mouth before the girl could give more information than she wanted to, “I think that’s enough for now.”
As the woman slowly released Vivien and handed her the glass of water she had been sipping out of while making dinner, Vivien asked, “What was in that thing?”
“That was one of my truth-seeking brownies,” Dorothea claimed. “With a small dose of a potion mixed in the chocolate, one bite would make the one eating it tell the truth until the magic wore off with time or, in this case, water. Anytime the boys would get into trouble growing up, I would give them something like this to make sure I knew what had actually happened.”
“So that’s how you got me to tell you about the broken vase!” Bentley exclaimed accusatorily. Although Bentley hadn’t been the one to break their mother’s newly made, handmade vase - Royce had - he hadn’t been able to keep things under wraps long enough to fix the vase himself. His mom had given him a fresh-from-the-oven cookie, and he found himself spilling the beans without hesitation. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a tendency to ramble things without thinking, but now that his mother had made it clear that she was the reason, it all made sense.
“That’s right,” Dorothea said with a nod. “We can speak more about it later. For now, who would like to tell me why you feel the need to sneak into the pantry?”
Before giving anyone else a chance to speak, Vivien blurted, “One of our friends from school might be possessed by dark magic, and she’s coming here to get notes from Royce, so we planned on making a salt ring around the house to keep her from coming in.”
With a raised eyebrow, Carrie asked, “I thought you said water was supposed to get rid of the truth potion?”
“It takes a few minutes to work through,” Dorothea explained as she patted Vivien on the shoulder sympathetically.
“Oh, yay,” Vivien sighed sarcastically.
“Anyway,” Dorothea began as she turned toward the rest of her children and their friends, “since what she says is true, we’ll need to work fast. Miles, Carrie, and Mick, you three stay with me. I have some sage and other herbs we can hang by the doorway to ward off dark magic. Royce, Vivien, and Bentley, you three take the salt and follow each other around the house with it. The thicker the salt, the better. Just make sure it isn’t too obvious and keep the line as close to the front door as possible.”
As Vivien followed Bentley and Royce to the pantry to retrieve the salt, Dorothea turned the slow cooker onto low heat and waited for the kids to run outside through the back door before heading into the pantry and sliding open a panel on the back wall. Inside was a rotating, lazy-Susan-style shelving unit filled with bottles that contained either liquids, jars of various ground items, or herbs, and a rack of wrapped herbs dangling from above.
Examining the hidden unit, Miles asked, “When was that built?” 
“Not long after your father left,” Dorothea answered as she began pulling things from the shelves. Holding out a bundle of wrapped sage, she said, “Now, split this evenly between you three and go smudge the doorways and windows while I make up a quick potion to drizzle over the salt circle. By the time the kids are done and the potion is ready, the girl should be on her way over.”
Without any argument, Miles took the sage from his mother and began unwrapping it, heading into the kitchen to grab a lighter from near the stove before handing out sage to Mick and Carrie. Watching her son and his friends move toward the front of the house, Dorothea took in a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, tapping a few different things before bringing up the group chat she had with Mick’s parents, letting them know their daughter had arrived safely, and they would set aside some food for them. After receiving a message from Mack in return, thanking her for letting them know, Dorothea pocketed her phone once more and silently prayed that she would be able to protect the children in her care as she closed the pantry once more.
Before she could make her way to the living room, though, the door leading to the garage opened, and a faint surge of fiery power coursed through her. Curious, Dorothea turned and watched as a head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled into a pair of half-up space buns stepped into the house, ditching a messenger backpack on the floor next to the door as it closed. Kona was quick to tug her detachable roller skates from her sneakers and shove them into her backpack as Dorothea smiled at her. Pushing her bangs from her face with a smile, Kona said, “Hey, Mrs Bentley’s Mom.”
“Kona,” Dorothea began, examining the shades of pink and teal that flooded the energy surrounding the girl, “I didn’t know you were coming over. We’re just about to eat; would you care to join us?”
“I can’t, actually,” Kona said with a sigh as she grabbed a cookie from the counter. “Dad’s making a traditional hawaiian dinner for Mom tonight, but I wanted to come over to talk with Ben, Royce, and Vivi.”
“They’re out back at the moment, but they should be in soon,” Dorothea said. “Is it something for school?”
“No, just friendship stuff,” Kona shrugged before taking a bite of her cookie. “Ben and I argued a bit this morning, but I talked it over with Zack and Gus after school and figured we could work things out tonight as a group.”
Nodding in understanding, Dorothea gestured to the dining table and said, “In the meantime, would you like to talk with me about it? I might offer an unbiased opinion.”
“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to say anything,” Kona began as she tugged one of the chairs out from the table, “but I assume that, if what he was saying is real, then you’d know about it too.”
“Most likely,” Dorothea agreed with a hum as she sat in Miles’ usual spot at the table. Sending the girl a comforting smile, she gestured with her hand and said, “The floor is yours.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Kona glanced around for any trace of Bentley before allowing herself to ramble, something she had always found relatively easy in the woman’s presence. She started her retelling of the morning - how her cat had woken her up by smothering her, her younger sister had refused to put clothes on before daycare, and her first attempt at waffles had made a disaster of the kitchen counters - then, she brought the story into the beginning of her school day. Quickly, she got into Bentley’s story and how he had pulled her aside like it was some big secret before telling her about all that had happened on Halloween. 
Nodding along as though she hadn’t already surmised what happened that fateful day, Dorothea listened as Kona told her side of the conversation before asking a single question, “And you don’t believe him?”
Kona heaved a sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want to believe him - I do - it’s just really hard to. He sounded nervous, but that also made it sound like he was lying through his teeth.”
“I understand,” Dorothea nodded. “But, if you were in his shoes and you had to tell him that you possessed magic in some way, wouldn’t you be nervous as well?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Kona breathed. “I just didn’t think about it at the time.”
“Again, that’s understandable,” Dorothea said with a smile as she watched the array of colors around the girl swirl and shift with every thought that ran through her head. “So, what did Zack and August have to offer?”
“They sort of pointed out that Bentley’s a terrible liar and that I should maybe try sitting down and talking with him more to get the whole story,” Kona admitted. With a faintly nervous chuckle, she said, “So, here I am, ready to try a bit harder.”
“And you want Royce and Vivien there to verify everything?” Dorothea surmised. 
Kona nodded, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and like a herd of elephants, Bentley, Royce, and Vivien hurried into the house. As he led the way, Bentley called out, “Mama, we finished the salt circle. What do we do now?” 
Upon finding Kona sitting across from his mother, Bentley’s voice faded into silence. While Bentley scrambled to find something to say and Royce’s eyes widened, Vivien offered a hesitant smile as she said, “Kona, what are you doing here?”
“We need to talk,” the blonde said as she pushed herself out of her seat. “Bentley told me about this whole witch business this morning and I want to have an actual conversation about it.”
“We can’t right now,” Royce stated apologetically as he checked the time on his phone. Serena would be there any minute; they didn’t have time for this!
“Why not?” Kona wondered, crossing her arms over her chest. Nodding toward Mrs Murphy, she said, “She let me talk with her. Why can’t we talk now?”
Before anyone could think of an answer, Carrie’s voice came from the stairs as she, Miles, and Mick came down from the upper floor, “We finished smudging the house.”
“Yeah,” Miles continued as they entered the kitchen. “What do we do now-” As his eyes landed on Kona, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”
“Looking for answers,” Kona replied. “What are you guys doing?” 
Faintly feeling the effects of the brownie she had eaten earlier, Vivien replied, “Smudging and making salt circles to protect against dark magic.”
Sensing the growing frustration boiling within Kona’s small frame, Dorothea stood from her spot at the table and placed a placating hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment. For now, you all need to keep an eye out for Serena. Go sit in the living room and do whatever you think is necessary before she gets here. I’ll handle this.”
Despite Royce and Vivien allowing Carrie and Mick to guide them into the living room, Bentley swallowed thickly as Miles tried guiding him away, muttering a soft, “I’m sorry, Kone,” as he turned back toward her for a fleeting moment.
Once Bentley was out of sight, Kona turned to Dorothea and asked, “What’s going on?”
“As I said, I’ll explain everything,” Dorothea said softly, gently guiding Kona back to her seat. “But first, I need you to sit. This will be a lot to take in all at once.”
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“What do you mean, you told her?” Miles asked.
“I told her about us,” Bentley explained. “We talked about telling her the other day, so I figures it would be fine.”
“Well, there’s no backing out now,” Carrie claimed from her spot near the picture window. “She knows and, in the long haul, I think it’s for the best.”
Pulling his notebook for geography out of his backpack, Royce said, “I actually agree.”
Slapping a hand to her friend’s forehead, Vivien smirked as she asked, “Are you sick or something? I could’ve sworn I heard you say you agree with Carrie.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Royce deadpanned as he pried Vivien’s hand from his face. “I just think that Kona was bound to know eventually.”
“True,” Mick said from her perch on the coffee table.
Vivien hummed in agreement as she took the notebook from Royce and pulled the thin slab of black onyx from her pocket, tucking it inside the notebook before handing it back to him. Opening the notebook to the hidden crystal, Royce asked, “What’s that for?”
“It’s black onyx,” Vivien explained. “It’s supposed to draw out negative energy. I figured it might help Serena if we give it to her in a way that she won’t notice it.”
Closing the notebook again and feeling just how flat the book still felt, Royce grinned, “Sneaky.”
“Just one of the many reasons you love me,” Vivien claimed proudly. Before allowing him to respond, she said, “I figured it’s flat enough that she won’t realize it’s there, and if she does, you can always claim it’s a pencil or something.”
“Smart,” Mick mused with a smile as she watched over the young pair.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Vivien taunted, shoving the girl’s knee with a smile. “I think those years of spending every afternoon in the shop with you have paid off.”
“I suppose they have,” Mick chuckled.
Moving away from the window, Carrie pointed toward the outside as she exclaimed, “She’s coming up the driveway!”
“Alright,” Miles said, patting Royce on the back as his younger brother stood. Holding the brunet by his shoulders, he asked, “You know what to do?”
With a nod, Royce began counting on his fingers as he listed, “Act normal, talk about the test, offer to let her in, give her the notebook either way, and once she leaves, we decide what to do next.”
“Good,” Miles said, running a hand over Royce’s chocolate curls before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Royce muttered.
Squeezing his brother’s shoulders, Miles reassured him, “You’ve got this, RJ. Remember, it’s just Serena; she’s your friend.”
“She’s just possessed, that’s all,” Royce huffed as the doorbell rang.
“Be nice,” Miles reminded him, sending a meaningful glance in Mick’s direction despite the girl not being able to hear their hushed conversation. “Your friend is still in there somewhere.”
Nodding more for Miles’ sake than his own, Royce turned toward the door and sucked in a deep breath as he crossed the gap between himself and the heavy, oaken frame. Forcing a small smile onto his face, Royce let out the breath he’d been holding and tugged the door open, allowing the chilled autumn air to brush calmingly across his face as he found Serena leaning against the column at the edge of the porch. “Hey, Serena.”
“Royce,” the redhead greeted in return, a sort of grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your notes.”
“Yeah, of course, anytime,” Royce replied. Stepping to the side and gesturing to the inside of the house, he asked, “Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold outside.”
Royce took note of how the girl’s hazel eyes flickered to the old, wooden beams that made up the porch, her gaze minutely trailing the thin line of salt trailing into the coarse artificial grass of the doormat. Although Royce knew the moment only lasted a second or so, time felt slower as Serena’s gaze landed back on him. Forcing his smile to remain plastered across his face, Royce watched as she shook her head with a somewhat distant smile and replied, “I would, but I have babysitting duty.”
If there was one thing Royce remembered about Serena, it was her hatred of babysitting. After years of being made to watch the young kids of her church and being forced to sit at the kid’s table every year, the last thing Serena would ever want was to babysit. He could vaguely recall hearing her have a shouting match with her mother in the school parking lot about having to babysit a kid that wasn’t hers - presumably in reference to her younger half-sibling, Sawyer. If Serena was willingly babysitting Sawyer, something had to be up.
“Oh, well, that’s okay,” Royce brushed off despite his mental notes saying otherwise. Instead, he held the notebook out with a smile and replied, “Maybe next time, then.”
“Yeah, sure,” Serena replied with a quick roll of her eyes that Royce supposed he wasn’t meant to see. However, as Serena latched onto the book and brought it close to her chest, he watched as her eyes flickered rapidly, the color in them gradually shifting from hazel to crimson as they moved from one side to the other faster than Royce could register. Then, all at once, it stopped as Serena’s eyes dissolved back to fear-filled hazel. “Royce?” she questioned breathlessly.
“Serena?” Royce asked slowly in return. “What’s going-”
“How did you make it stop?” Serena interrupted, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears of relief. Though Royce had begun to open his mouth in response, Serena quickly shook her head and said, “Actually, nevermind; it’s not important right now.” Reaching out and taking Royce’s arm, she found his eyes and pleaded, “You have to help me. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been stuck in my own body for weeks now and I can’t get out.”
“What do you remember?” Royce pressed.
“Halloween,” Serena claimed, swiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You guys came to the church to look for something and I left, but then I came back and you all were gone, so I cleaned the mess you left and then I-” Serena choked on a breath, shaking her head as she breathed, “the next thing I know, it’s like I’m trapped in my head and nobody hears me screaming for help.”
Taking in as much information as he could from the rambling girl, Royce nodded, “I know Vivien talked to you.”
“It wasn’t much, but I tried,” Serena agreed. “I can’t hold her off for long.”
“Her?” 
Serena nodded, releasing Royce’s arm to wipe the streaks of tears from her face as she replied, “The other me. She’s strong and powerful and I know it has something to do with magic.”
“Magic? Like ancient magic?” Royce restated. When Serena shrugged with a hum of confirmation, he asked, “How do we help you out of this?”
“I don’t know,” Serena muttered, her voice shaking with every heave of her shoulders. “You, Vivien, and Bentley were always the ones to know everything about magic, not me. That was never my strong suit. All I know is that she can’t touch salt and-”
As Serena’s words died in her throat, Royce took a step back, watching her eyes begin flickering once more. “And what?” Frustratingly, Serena’s mouth moved despite no sound coming from her lips, and Royce gripped the door frame with wide eyes as her eyes clenched shut, and he heard a dull cracking sound come from the book in her hands. Royce sucked in a breath as he realized the crystal tucked inside the notebook had broken.
Like a rubber band, Serena’s eyes snapped open, and a dark, ruby glare settled within her gaze. Despite both of them knowing she couldn’t do anything to hurt him because of the rings of salt around the house, Royce still felt his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to do something to preserve himself, and the people he knew were watching from the window. Serena took a half-step back, the blood-red hue of her eyes diminishing gradually the further she got from the doorway. Tilting her head to the side with an almost demonic smile, Serena let out a dark cackle of laughter before speaking, “Just because you and your little friends defeated me once does not mean I will let it happen again.”
“Says you,” Royce hissed.
“Precisely,” Serena spoke. Stepping down from the porch, Serena’s smile turned eerie as she waved a hand toward the window, sparks of fire flitting from her fingertips. Turning back to Royce, she said, “Watch yourselves, children. Your magic may be cosmic, but mine is ancient. I will take it from you eventually.”
Not wishing to anger the woman further, Royce chose to keep his mouth shut, watching as Serena’s figure turned and stalked off toward the end of the driveway. As she neared the edge, she dug into the notebook, pulled out the broken shards of the onyx slab, and held them up for them to see before holding her fist over the wheeled trash can Bentley hadn’t yet brought back into the garage and crushing the shards in her fist. Dumping the shattered remnants of the crystal into the empty trash can, Serena gave a final, dramatic bow before releasing a cackled laugh, slipping into the driver's seat of her violet-wrapped Audi, and pulling away from the house with a squeal of her tires and a deep growl from the engine.
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linkspooky · 1 year
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Really liked your top Teen Titans ship post. That Harley/Batman one has me all kinds of intrigued and you are more than right on Dickkory. But. I gotta know. How in the world are Terra and Raven the same character??? I've been puzzling over this for like half an hour and I know it's gonna drive me crazy. 😂 Thanks.
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They are the same person, this is the hill I'll die on. I understand why you can't really see how they are the same character, because their relationship is literally all just subtext. SO basically text is what's written and directly stated, subtext is what you as the reader infer it's interpretation. Reader interpretation is really important though, and good comic book stories will build on subtext that's originally present in the stories intentional or not and add to it. The Harley and Ivy gay relationship started out as subtext, it's text now, stories change over time etc. etc.
Comic books are also an adaptive medium, cartoons make adaptations of these comics based on the show creators interpretation, then those adaptations are sometimes cycled back into the comics too. I mean, there's a reason that there are two Judas Contract interpretations Teen Titans 2003, and the solo Judas Contract movie and Terra has big interactions with Raven in both.
ANYWAY, Terra and Raven are the same person in different fonts explanation underneath the cut!
In the original comic, Terra and Raven's relationship does not have nearly as much interaction as in the cartoon adaptations. However, there is something there. It is basically this, Raven is the only one who notices that something's off with Terra, because her empathic senses detect the isolation and emptiness inside of Terra. Raven points this out several times to Terra and other people, avoids Terra when the rest of the group welcomes her, in, later on Terra wants to take on Raven herself because she sees her as self-righteous and stuck up.
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This is why I say subtext, when you read between the lines and look at both characters they actually are incredibly similar.
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They are both bastards, in the sense they are unwanted children conceived out of wedlock that their parents didn't try to raise and handed off to someone else. Terra is half-princess, her life is controlled by the fact she's connected to the Markovian bloodline, but they're ashamed of her and don't want her around (all except for Brion).
Capes on the Couch's Terra Episode, does a good job on how a child basically being punished by the decisions of their parents they had no control over can both hurt their developmental years, and also due major damage to their self esteem. It's a horrible thing to teach a child they are basically unwanted when they're not the ones who made the decision to be born into this world.
Neither Terra or Raven wanted to be born, and yet they are essentially punished their entire childhood for this fact, either by neglect by Terra (the royal family only wanted her around to experiment on her then sent her back to America when her behavior shamed them and they found her unsavory) or Raven who like had no choice in being born and yet the society she was raised in told her she was an innately an evil person (when she was like five) her emotions were evil and if she didn't continually fight against them she would be exactly like her father. Raven's mother joined a cult and tried to marry Satan, Terra's mom decided to have an affair with a king, however they both take no responsibility, hand their kids off and it's Terra and Raven who have to deal with this. Terra and Raven basically also never had parents or a childhood. Terra's sixteen and she acts like both more mature than everyone around her, and a miniature adult, and she's convinced she's this cunning manipulative mastermind and I'm like hmm I wonder if that's a survival mechanism because no one ever bothered to raise her and she had to take care of herself.
They both are born with powers they don't want
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Terra has incredible powers to move the earth that are hard for her to control, and in several continuities literally result in her death when she loses control and drops the entire earth on herself and crushes herself. Raven was born the daughter of a demon and the only way she was taught to control her emotions was to suppress them entirely.
They are both given these huge powers that they didn't really ask for, and those powers changed the course of their lives. If Terra didn't have geokinesis, she'd probably just be a slgihtly unstable runaway kid and not a mercenary. Raven's entire life is defined by trying to control her powers and use them for good.
So, then the difference between them is that Raven decided to use her powers for good, and Terra made the selfish decision to use her powers above herself. Raven is a better person because she rose above her circumstances, instead of just using her circumstances as an excuse to hurt others. Au contraire, mon friend.
Repression / Expression, Selfish / Selfless, and the Dark Phoenix
A huge part of Raven's character arc that almost everyone ignores is that Raven was heavily abused, not by her father, but by the monks of Azarath. Raven was raised in a cult. Raising a child far away from other people, not allowing them regular interaction with other children, not letting them be with their mother, and most of all TEACHING THEM THEY ARE INTERNALLY EVIL is not good parenting my dudes.
It's not so much Terra chose to be evil, Raven chose to be good, as Raven has literally been brainwashed by a cult to believe if she is even a little bit selfish, if she expresses any negative emotion at all, then she's exactly like her father and evil. If you've ever read Bungo Stray Dogs, I compare Raven to Atsushi a lot.
Basically, in Bungo Stray Dogs Atsushi is an orphaned character who has the ability to turn into a Tiger. An ability that he cannot control, an ability that went out of control and murdered a man when he was young. His caretaker covers up for the murder, and tries to teach him to control that power but in the worst way possible. He isolates Atsushi, keeps him in a cage to punish him when he loses control, and he ends up teaching Atsushi if he doesn't use his power to protect others, then he's worthless.
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It's not even that Atsushi wants to be a hero, it's that he has to be a hero otherwise he doesn't even deserve to live. Atsushi is incredibly dysfuctional because of this, he has black and white thinking that he applies to himself, he can't forgive hinmself, he has to be a completely selfless doormat because selfish people are EVIL! Atsushi has literally no identity outside of being superhero.
That's something a lot of people miss with Raven's character, she tries to fit in with literally having any kind of life outside of being a superhero and she always fails, because that is what Azarath taught her two "A person incapable of protecting others does not deserve to live" she doesn't deserve to be a normal person because she has to continually atone for being trigon's daughter. She's fundamentally born evil and must continue to work to prove she is not.
The real difference between Raven and Terra is that Raven represses herself to extreme extents to try to be a hero like the people around her to expect her to be, whereas Terra externalizes all of her trauma.
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Terra LOATHES the expectation that she has to use her powers to help others, she thinks being a hero is STUPID AND DUMB. SHe chafes so much under a good girl image that she decides to embrace a villainous one instead, because that at least feels liberating to her.
If Terra were in Marvel instead of DC she would be working with Magneto and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Her powers have basically ruined her whole life and made her different from others, but it's also literally the only thing she has because everything else in her life is unstable, and by the time she gets with the titans she can't trust anyone. The royal family essentially tried the same brainwashing on Terra, because they only gave her her powers to be in service to them and make her a hero, and Terra said FUCK IT and decided to be NOT THAT. Raven formed her identity by repressing herself and trying to serve everyone's expectations, Terra's identity is expressed and she makes herself in defiance of what everyone expects her to be.
Now, now, now you say, well Raven still tried to be better than her father. However, this ignores once again that Raven's repression is not healthy, and just like Terra, she also turns evil fifteen squintillion times. Now this is where we get to the difference between text and subtext again. In the text Raven never chooses to turn evil, her father takes control of her body and makes her, or she gets possessed like when she ruined Kory and Dick's raven. Subtextually though, Raven is pulling a dark phoenix arc.
This is where we briefly touch upon something in another comic as an example DARK PHOENIX ARC, if you've read the X-Men comics is literally the most famous X-Men arc of all time.
The gist is that Jean Gray, a character who was until this point one of the most token good girl of good girl characters has an incredibly strong and hard to control power called the "Phoenix" that is repressed inside of her own head to try to keep under control. Jean Gray represses herself, limits her agency, and pushes her power away instead of trying to control it. However, the Hellfire Club ends up interfering with Jean and unelashing this suppressed power. THe power in its totality overwhelms Jean, and destroys her original identity and she renames herself "Dark Phoenix" and all of the powers she was repressing now come to the forefront, she becomes a force of destruction through the completely unrestrained use of her power.
Raven and Jean Gray share a lot in common, it's not particualrly subtle, however the point of the Dark Phoenix is that Jean Gray is that she could have learned to control her power and grown into her womanhood, and instead she never tried to work with her power sealed it to the back of her head, until she couldn't anymore. That's the thing about repression it's unheathly.
To give another example on why repression is BAD. Have you ever seen the movie Carrie? An incredibly similiar arc, a girl who was horribly abused not only by her religious mother, but also the people in the school around her suddenly develops a psychic power. In isolation, Carrie grows more and more unstable but is still trying to be a normal girl and get along with everyone. She eventually reaches her breaking point when the blood is dropped on her prom dress and from that point onward, Carrie completely snaps and decides to burn down the prom gym and rampage on the town.
All three of these characters are Carrie to a different extent, Raven wasn't taught to be herself just to suppress herself because she's evil deep down inside, Jean Gray was too afraid of her power so she sealed it away inside her own mind, Carrie was continually taught by her religious nut mother she was fundamentally evil and was not allowed to be a normal girl and was isolated in her highschool. They repress, they repress, they repress until they can't anymore and then they explode. Terra is just like, same superpowers, same isolation from other people, she just skips the repression phase and goes straight to the explosion. Though, you could argue that Terra continually living under the false identity as a hero IS her repression. Terra pretending to be a generic good girl hero not only makes it so the Teen Titans can't reach her in time, but living under a false identity for so long just makes her LOATHE the Teen Titans more.
Terra and Raven are the same person in that both their childhood / formative years, and their sense of self was destroyed by both the cicrumstances they were born under, and the powers they were born with, neither of these things they chose for themselves. They are both reacting to the abuse they suffered throughout their developmental years, Raven's coping mechanism is to be completely selfless, Terra doubles down on her selfishness. At the same time, this is horribly unhealthy for both of them, they both snap because neither of them know how to live as people in any healthy way. Terra's mystique, Raven is Carrie on Prom Night, neither of them are having a fun time.
The biggest thing they have in common though is they are both lonely little girls. I think something a lot of people don't understand about Raven's character because they're more familiar with the cartoon version than NTT is that Raven was not a team player. Raven, for the vast majority of the comic kept entirely to herself, showed up to say something ominious, teleported away. Raven is horribly isolated, doesn't really form emotional connections to people, and convinces herself that other people don't care about her.
You have one girl who only ever engages people through a fake persona, nobody on the team ever knows the real Terra, she sees every relationship as a transaction of a manipulation, when people try to show her concern or empathy she can't see that because she assumes they're looking down on her.
You have another girl who's teammates just don't get, and who basically interacts with all other humans as a space alien, because she was raised so far outside of society and she doesn't believe she deserves to have relationships with people in the first place. The second Terror of Trigon happens in the first place, because Raven has been getting more and more isolated and struggled with her father's powers and no one on the team notices because no one pays attention to Raven and when they try to she brushes them off.
You have two girls, one of them is always at the center of attention, the other one is always off in some dark corner and both of them are equally lonely and that's the greatest thing they have in common. I
If you're more curious on my take about the Terra and Raven foiling, I am writing a fanfic where Terra and Raven are the two main characters, here!
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teawitch · 1 year
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Hi there! Longtime follower here, but not personally a witch myself. My mother has started practicing witchcraft after getting with her current partner, who is Wiccan. My preteen sister has recently shown significant interest in it, and my mom just bought her a book intended for young witches by someone named (I believe) Silver Ravenwolf (or something similar). I’ve heard the name before, but only in the context of other witchcraft blogs saying negative things about her. Do you know anything about her? And if she’s not the right person to be educating my sister, do you have any other book recommendations for a young preteen wanting to start a practice?
Ah, Silver. We all know about Silver. She made her name writing witchcraft/Wicca books for the younger audience. Something most Wiccans won't tackle because there is a sexual aspect to traditional, initiatory Wicca, which is a practice only offered to adults. So Silver had an open field back then.
Many witches complain about errors in her writing. Sometimes they are not so much errors but a specific method or tradition of looking at a subject that she doesn't fully explain her work. Perhaps the core of that problem is that she's trying to explain topics to a preteen/teen audience that are meant for an adult audience and so is writing around certain subjects.
My personal opinion - she's bossy. I sometimes find an underlying "if you don't do this correctly, there will be big problems" tone to her instructions. I've known witches with anxiety issues who began with her books who seemed to struggle with anxiety in their practice.
So I wouldn't recommend her books unless accompanied by a lot of adult guidance. Unfortunately I don't have a list of beginner books for young people because those books just weren't there when I started. And for the most part, I think Silver still dominates the market.
But tell your sister she has to promise me she will read Terry Pratchett's Tiffany Aching series. Because Terry Pratchett understood what it really meant to be a witch. The books may be fiction but his research was very real. Besides they are tons of fun. Witches of all ages love Terry Pratchett.
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hergan416 · 1 year
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Why do I love Moriarty the Patriot?
It's not just like...compelling story. Sure it has compelling story, but ultimately it is a Sherlock Holmes adaptation. Surely I would have gotten into I dunno, Elementary when my mom was super into it when I was a teen, or the old BBC show my ex's grandparents had on at their house all the time (that more or less followed ACD canon). Maybe even ACD's books...which I like but am languishing on reading even after getting into MTP). So why this one?
Admittedly, I am the kind of person who is much more interested in animated works than live action, so I'm a little biased towards the format of an anime (and then finding the manga for more context after I love it). That's definitely a me thing.
But why did I start to hyperfixate on it? How did it become my fandom?
Gonna have some heavy topics and spoilers now.
It's relating to every single character as human. It's the way the relationships are so real and easy to imagine. It's the main character...who basically tries to commit suicide around the same age that I tried to commit suicide, failing, then having to learn to live with himself.
It's about the struggle to relate to people, to communicate, even for brilliant people who are very close (Will and Al and Louis), even for brilliant people who want to be (Sherlock and Liam), even for people who at first glance don't all seem to be neurodivergent (Sherlock and Watson). It's about how no friendship or familial relationship, no matter how deep the ties go, is perfect. It's about found family and blood ties and being true to oneself.
It's about good and evil and what those terms even mean. It's about the inherent worth of humanity. Nobles not finding all people to be people. Louis lives because William has been acknowledging his worth and thinks Holmes can provide that for William. But in the end, Louis and William both find their own worth for themselves. Louis pushes forward and really starts to shine in his new role. He's so good at what he does. He's so comfortable. He's a leader, not a servant. He is the new head of the family.
William too, learns a lot from having to live with just himself to look after (and maybe Sherlock). But he's not enmeshed with Sherlock the way he was with his brothers. He's learning to live as his own person, to become himself. Not an actor on a stage, not someone he is expected to be, to be vulnerable, to not know the answers. Because when you are smart like that...you're supposed to know all the answers. Even now.
It's beautiful. The Final Problem isn't enough. The first part ends with a brief description of how things happen after a three year time skip. Its about healing. And not healing. And struggling to move forward anyway.
How could I NOT love it?
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lounaticm · 2 months
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🍓
🍄 (yes I did this on purpose)
🍬 (yes I am enabling you)
☁️
🩷(not on the list just wanted to spread some love 😊)
🍓- How did you get into writing fanfiction? --- I kind of just... have always been doing so. From the moment I first started adoring certain shows or movies or books as a kid, I've been writing fanfiction. In fact, it took a very long time for me to even learn the term 'fanfiction' and realize "Oh. That's what this is. Neat!" (I believe I was very early teens when I first saw the term online.) From the moment I first started writing stories (which came about very shortly after I first learned how to write at all) there was only a short year or two time where I wasn't writing fanfiction. (Hell, my mom still has those short, one page stories I'd write back then. I don't know if it was simply a typo on my part or if I was just really morbid, but they almost always ended with 'And they died.'😂)
🍄- Share a headcanon for one of your favorite ships or pairings. --- (lol, of course you did. And for that, I'm going to give more than one heh~)
Well, I'm not sure if I've stated so here or not (I know I've certainly shared with my best friend over Discord) but I imagine the DA and Damien pretty much fell in love at first sight. And my rendition of the DA doesn't believe in love at first sight lol, yet still got steamrolled with it anyways, realizing what the feeling was just two hours after they met - but being in denial of it being anything more than a crush for months after. Clearly, Love At First Sight took offense to the disbelief lol
Damien's cane and mayor ribbon were a gift from the DA upon winning the election. The ribbon was just a cheeky joke, there was no thought or intent that Damien would go on to actually wear it beyond a few hours after having it pinned to his suit in congratulations by a grinning DA once news arrived that he'd won. Yet, he went on to wear it all the time - regardless of what few people moaned and complained that he was 'bragging' or the like. It came from his Little Monster, so of course he was going to keep wearing it.
As for the cane, it has a sword inside - but only Damien's close friends and family know of it. The DA gave it to him as a covert means of self-defense (though he never had any need to use it) as Damien learned swordsmanship growing up for fun. (Yeah, I'm not the first person to imagine that Damien's cane is a sword cane, I know. In fact, I used to not care for the idea, but it quickly grew on me lol)
🍬- Post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character. --- (Oh, I LOVE being enabled to talk about this ssfvsfvsfvf thank you! I don't know if this is actually unpopular, or simply not spoken of/depicted as much, but)
Dark is NOT evil, cruel, cold, or manipulative.
He is miserable and depressed and drowning in guilt over what happened to the DA (regardless of the fault not being his) and wants revenge on the Actor - though he's quickly lost most drive to actually track the bastard down.
Not once has he ever harmed the viewer character. He's been cryptic, yes, and a little creepy in Date (though I take that portrayal with a grain of salt these days, as he wasn't properly developed as a character yet, it being his first canonical appearance and all) but on that same point, he showed to care more about the viewer's feelings over having shot someone than Mark did. If you listen to his dialogue (or read a transcript) when he and Mark are trying to convince us who to shoot, nothing he says is a lie. In Heist, he seemed only to want to wake the viewer up to the nature of what was going on, stuck in the Actor's games. He nudged us in the right direction with the clues to be found at each ending.
And with the inclusion of the implications given at the end of ISWM, he may have set the entire string of events of AHWM in motion deliberately to get a chance to speak with us to try to help us. Why else would he very likely seemingly attach the warp crystal to that box, which we would then after go to try to steal? Why else would he then simply pull us aside - separate us from Mark - and speak to us, rather than use the opportunity to try to get revenge on the Actor, who was right there?
Being the "villain" has never been his goal.
☁️- What made you choose your username? --- Okay, so. My mom gave me the nickname 'Lou' when I was in my mid-teens. There's no basis upon my name at all for why she did so. Even she doesn't know why she gave me the nickname. (She's just rather silly like that lol) At first I hated it, asked her not to call me that, but it just kept happening and I realized that it would undoubtedly continue to happen - not maliciously, mind you - so I kinda just gave in and had the thought of 'oh, I could make it into a different spelling of the word 'lunatic'.' cause, yeah, edgy teen lol. And I became very fond of it, making it my username across many websites and accounts. I always pair it with either the number 13 or letter 'm', cause 13 is my favorite number and 'm' is the first letter of my birth name lol
~~~
Oh boy, I get rambly. 😂😅 And you are entirely too sweet. 🥺😊 Thank you so much for sending in all the asks that you do, I really appreciate it.
Tagging @kiwibubbles5 because I figure you'll wanna see me rant about our boy lol... again...
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am-i-interrupting · 2 months
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Just imaging little reader running through the woods with laughs and smiles, playing hide and seek by themselves on the way to the cabin.
You mentioned reader being homeschooled so does that mean they have any clue about fashion trends since I imagine they didn’t have a tv. So did they read magazines whenever they went out? Like for straightening their hair when they got in their teens to present?
Aw, that is so cute and now canon. Like just the gruesome image of Alastor hauling a dead or half alive body and then running ahead of him waiting for him to spot them. So cute!!!
Also, I don’t think they knew much about society expectations aside from the little Alastor would expose them to before his death. He’d bring them out. 100% was the guy who brought his kid to the club with him but he’s a classy drunk so it’s okay. (Don’t bring your kids to bars) When he was alive I think the main exposure they had to fashion trends and whatnot was from Mimzy and magazines she’d have around her house since Alastor would leave them with her.
After his death though they kind of had this rude wake up call that mainstream society does not like people who aren’t white. (Just personal headcanon, I think their mom would have been Mexican but that’s just me. You’re entitled to whatever you want, nothings going to be explicitly canon about their mom’s race/ethnicity) I envision them having been born in 1920 so when Alastor died they would have been just entering teen years. Being depressed from the death of their father and their life, their body changing, and being in an orphanage or foster care, they probably would have done whatever they could have to just have a break and that entailed straightening their hair.
I do think Alastor’s type of company would have stayed with them though. I’ve always thought of him as being a man who frequented places where call girls (sex workers) were prominent because it seems like a good place to scope out victims but from my personal experience with sex workers, they’re pretty cool friends to have. I think that hanging in those parts, they would have been able to get tips on how to remain fashionable and change your appearance to be what society wants you to be. Then they sort of scoped out what high society wanted in someone when they finished writing their book.
I honestly don’t think that they started caring about what high society liked until they started looking for a publisher and then after getting rejected over and over again there started to come an insecurity. I think surrounded by call girls is where they would feel most comfortable and most themself but I also feel like that’s another part of their life that they wouldn’t be actively trying to share with Vox. Sure, they’ll mention it in passing but if Vox ever meets one it’ll be purely by accident and I feel like they’d probably get insecure there too. . .
I have a new one shot idea now. Thank you for encouraging my ramblings otherwise it may not have come to me. Reader being insecure by not being the stereotypical beauty in high society with Vox but also being insecure by not being a more risky type of beauty when surrounded by call girls with Vox because there’s no way they’re going to be wearing something that’s socially inappropriate around him in public but also, that dress shows off her curves and figure and the one I’m wearing does not and is he going to be more attracted to her than me? Yes, good. I am writing that down in my list of writing ideas.
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ravendruidreads · 2 months
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A Deadly Education - Review
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Author: Naomi Novik Saga: The Scholomance Date Read: February 26, 2024 - February 28, 2024 Format: Physical Pages: 319
Characters: 6/10 Atmosphere: 4/10 Writing: 3/10 Plot: 7/10 Intrigue: 5/10 Logic: 5/10 Enjoyment: 7/10 Rating: 5.2/10 (3 stars)
I got this book from a blind date with a book at Barnes & Noble. The premises were "a gorgeous book about monsters and monstrousness"; "dark, dangerous school of magic"; and "unwilling dark sorceress destined to rewrite the roles".
The review is hidden below due to spoilers.
I went into this book completely blind because I didn't read anything about it other than what the blind date cover mentioned, so I wasn't expecting it to be a young adult kind of book (I thought it would be something more like Fourth Wing), which is partially why I gave it such a low writing score.
The writing felt... weird? I don't mind stories told in first person but in this case, the narrator felt like it was talking directly to me, as in breaking the fourth wall, and that didn't feel much like telling a story. I would have enjoyed this type of writing more when I was younger, so I guess I can say that the author is doing a good job at reaching their target.
Another thing I didn't like about the writing was that the author broke the narrative multiple times to explain details that, in my opinion, were not necessary, making it hard to keep up with the story. A lot of those explanations were also very confusing, which is also why Atmosphere has such a low score. I had trouble visualizing because the descriptions were often confusing.
The characters are fine. They are what they are: common teenagers with relatable issues (like being an outcast). Orion is the typical teenage boy that has no clue how to talk to girls, so he accidentally starts dating El without even asking or telling her his feelings until the very end. Not gonna lie, that made me chuckle a little. They are kind of cute together and remind me when I was a teen (except I was the Orion in the situation-as in not knowing how to talk to boys).
The plot is what saved the book, in my opinion. I liked the idea that the school is always moving and trying to kill its students. It gave me a little big of Hogwarts vibes.
Something else that confused me at first was the fact that this is a fantasy book set in our world. I was taken aback when I first read the mention of New York and other cities because I wasn't expecting it to happen in our world. However, I did enjoy the diversity and the importance the author gave to languages. If it wasn't for the fact that the school is trying to kill its students on a daily(nay-hourly)-basis, I would have loved to attend it just for the language learning part.
All in all, it was a fun book to read and I'm excited to see what happens next. El's mom's letter brings in the perfect cliff hanger for book two.
Quotes that stayed:
I love having existential crises at bedtime, it's so restful.
I think that after a certain number of evil choices, it's reasonable shorthand to decide that someone's an evil person who oughtn't have the chance to make any more choices. And the more power someone has, the less slack they ought to be given.
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depraced · 9 months
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I'll admit… I don't get it. As someone who used to be obsessed with mental health and the progress made in my lifetime I can't understand where the joke is. I see this au and I'm wondering… Am I weird for knowing that it's wrong intrinsically. I'm going to be talking about the asylum au but I am NOT going to tell you who made it. I'm disgusted and saddened, sure but if I see any one of you fuckers attacking someone cause of me I will freaking call your ass out and report you, myself. That being said: perspective (long post, I'm an autistic writer):
When I was a small child I was always surrounded by books and books of psychiatric research. My sister, an autistic child in the nineties, devoured them as easily as she devoured any one of the other vast collection of books in my house. Not with understanding but with lack of discrimination and gusto. My mom was often on call on the weekdays in case there was an emergency. She was a mental health professional, after all. Those don't have set operating hours. I did forget to mention it , but she was a child psychiatrist. She took her job seriously. This is to say that being aware of modern science was the norm. And I took a keen eye to it as did my sis. One of my first memories in learning about mental health was reading a book that talked in a small blurb about lobotomies. I remember being curious because the section was so short. I was looking for anything on a topic that mystified me at the time: Schizophrenia. if you're talking classic mental ward patients then you can't get more stereotypical than that. I learned it was a salvo of paranoid delusions mixed with hallucinations. Not always but sometimes. Always sometimes. I bought a book later. It's one of my favorites and is only printed on demand; Rescuing Patty Hearst. I can't think of a better introduction to the topic. It doesn't vilify, it doesn't sensationalize. it simply states the journey of a small child kidnapped by her mother to a cabin in the woods. As she grows she realizes something is wrong as she grows and eventually reconnects with her family. Out of all the scenes in the book, the only two that are relevant to this is when she writes in her attic and when she talks to her mother at the end. When she is writing her memoirs in the attic, the protagonist hears a voice. Her heart nearly stops beating. No, She doesn't want this, she knows it's genetic, she could get it at any time. In a fit of desperation she covers her ears. Nothing. Slowly she uncovers them. She looks around. The radio. The relief is palpable.
In the end, after her whole ordeal, she visits her mother. Geriatric and grey, they sit in the courtyard of a nursing home. Her mother looks at a pond. She awkwardly tries to talk about it to her mother. It, the whole thing, their lives that got yanked out of place and never fully recovered. They solemnly reflect. She asks her mother what the very first "voice" she heard was. The mother says it told her "Your husband is a good man. You should take in the laundry. She laughs. Her bogey man was that. The thing that destroyed her entire family… the very first thing it did… was that. In my later years I came upon a title called Girl, Interrupted. If you want to talk about institutionalization, that's a classic book. It details the life of a young woman who, upon a hospital visit of less than an hour long, is put into a ward. Her crime? Being a rebellious teen. I cannot recommend it enough. the dry brand of humor in the face of something horrific is a joy to read. the three scenes that stick out to me are the girl who has never had honey, the moment she breaks, and the ice cream parlor. I'm not spoiling them. Honestly just read it. It's at the library, probably, but if you need to purchase it I wouldn't recommend it enough. Ive never seen the movie nor do I want to, Hollywood is a circus and the clowns don't follow code. This, I suppose, is a long winded way of saying this subject matter can be humorous, relatable, or even terrifying. I knew that the human mind is a horror unto itself but that it has to be handled carefully. I'm far from the professional in the topic but I've been reading of this thing since I was less than ten. I know what I'm saying when I say that this au is… disrespectful. People lost their lives in more subtle ways than the media tends to depict. I'm the low empathy one, but even I can see that this depiction… isn't funny. It's not funny right? I'm not weird for thinking that each human I saw in The Cramp's concert in a mental asylum was just a person? In thinking this was genuinely heart warming that they wanted to give these poor people a good time? I'm the low empathy one, Why is it that I'm the one who looks at photos of the abandoned fancy torture facilities and gets chills? What's stopping normal people from getting them? The wheelchairs with papers strewn about helter skelter, each one a victim, their whole life on the floor? What am I not getting? Where is the disconnect? Ive looked into nursing home abuse for a topic after my grandmother died and I can tell you that those people likely had the same things happen. Nothing was off limits to abuse. Nothing. Nothing has ever been sacred. I've had multiple friends who went to institutions. Each one is scarred. One went because he was trans. The other because of an eating disorder. It's difficult for them to talk about. heaven knows, I'd have gone because I'm a lesbian. I thank my mother for trying to genuinely help people and understand the latest news in her field. She's retired now after her job pushed her too hard and tried to cut the time she had to see patients. She needed to talk to them like a person. Children need time and understanding, not a conveyor belt of medicines. Everyone needs time to diagnose and the institution couldn't give a fuck.
Continued in the next cause it's too long
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edutainer2022 · 1 year
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Frankly, I want to send you every single emoji from that ask game for Scott, but I'm trying to practice self-restraint. How about a couple of ൠ for him?
@amistrio Thank you! Yeah, I'm kinda contemplating the merit of answering the meme unprompted or sending myself an anonymous ask or five))
Random (TAG) Scott headcanons:
- this one I really enjoyed getting traction in vaster fanon - Scott is a mathlete and a decent engineer. Not Brains or the Mechanic level, but Dad Jeff level at the very least. He was elated to be in on Dad's plans and designs of TV-21 as a teen, was definitely in on the early designs of Thunderbirds and takes active part in upgrades and diagnostics (that's pretty much canon). He can reassemble his bird in his sleep;
- Scott reads. For leisure. Actual books. The "boring" classics of the "mandatory reading list" and beyond (that's probably something I glimpsed in TOS and hold really dear). And he's well versed in poetry. It's a Mom thing for him - they read a lot together, he later read all the stories to his brothers. His AP English essays were stellar, but "Liberal arts" was never an option, not for a Jeff Tracy's son, who worshiped Dad's life path and accomplishments. So it was math, physics and avionics.
- Scott has an MBA. That Tracy Industries money gotta make themselves somehow to fund increasingly expensive IR endeavors.
- after the TV-21 fiasco (financial too), Scott offered to enlist into GDF before he turned 18 - that way he thought he could pay for college and help repay the investors, so that his college fund would go to John and Virgil and their dreams wouldn't be derailed. Dad put a halt to that (and doubled down business efforts to make sure his kids were never financially insecure again).
- This one is a bit (a lot!) darker - in a typical "golden child trauma" fashion Scott ties his self-worth firmly to merits of performance and achievement. In a situation when his father sacrificed himself to save all of humanity, Scott considers himself obliged to give nothing less to compensate humanity (and his family) for that loss - that breeds martyrdom that comes across as recklessness or workaholism on a good day and a death wish on less good days (also, pretty much canon, in so many words). He genuinely doesn't get how his family or the world would need him for just him, if he's "obviously less" than his father was (being repeatedly mistaken for his younger father's image doesn't help).
- After really hard rescues, or sometimes when the burden gets too much, Scott would dash away in One across the world to Mom's grave. Alone. John and Virgil have figured it out and know not to try and coax him back before he's ready, but keep an eye on him.
- Learning about Dad's signal from Oort Cloud nearly drove Scott insane with guilt, whereas his brothers were elated. Which piled even more guilt, because he didn't want to trump their hope. He thinks he failed by "giving up" on the search all those years ago and "moving on".
- Scott has a track record of notoriously disastrous failed relationships, which actually troubles him a lot more than he lets on. It's usually a subject of brothers' ribbing (Gordon's, mostly), but it's actually a fair bit traumatic. Through a couple of break-ups Virgil and John had to stage interventions (up to and including flying in from their colleges). On at least one occasion it was Dad. Whoever falls for a dashing flyboy/hero/billionaire with killer dimples and witty one liners, usually, don't sign up for a deeply feeling, traumatized, crazed with anxiety family man, whose brothers and life's work are his whole world. At a certain point Scott got convinced he's damaged goods and happiness/family is not in the cards. He's, of course, wrong.
- Scott was to Dad what Virgil is to him and what their Mom was to Jeff - a grounding force, a confidante and someone with unwavering faith and inspiration.
- Dropping out of Airforce early on in the career to join IR cost him most or all of his GDF friendships and it stung deeply. It stung that many openly considered him a renegade, who chose "Daddy's private 911 gig and getting kittens off trees over the real service". Regardless of Bereznik POW headcanon (the hurt, PTSD and comfort potential there is, of course, unparalleled!), I think Scott had to face A LOT of cold shoulders, after Jeff's disappearance. Whereas Colonel Tracy was revered, Tracy "dropout" Jr. was openly stared down by multiple star generals and getting IR up and running again was an uphill struggle.
- Kyrano and Lee leaving IR after Jeff hit him hard. He's lowkey sure it's because he can't measure up to Dad (and father figures don't want him). In reality it was, of course, guilt and grief of the Old Guard.
-Some time, many-many years down the line Scott is gonna run for the World President office and win.
I can go on for a loooong while (Scott is among my deeply personally favorite characters not for nothing). Maybe I'll come up with a Part 2. I'm having lots of fun (making myself sad, mostly).
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