#how many fucking times will i read about hob freeing dream

[gabessquishytum]

i see u all talking about Hob being The Dreaming's lending toy and honestly good for him but i read some angst so in my brain here's this: Hob has always been aware how much work Lucienne does and how much Dream appreciates her and how she's one of the few who stayed for him. and anyone who's loyal and loves Dream as much as he does - well, deserves, because it's different lmao - is someone Hob's eager to show his thanks to. So. he tries to figure her out to offer himself in the best way (1/?)

possible because she deserves it quite a lot. and he doesn't really have much to offer other than himself, and while he's already verbally expressed his gratitude it doesn't feel enough. i can't figure out if Dream would know about this plan of his or if it being solely something Hob plans would add to Dream humming in almost purr of pleasure because he's being such an endearing pet, such a good boy wanting to be the best to one of Dream's closest friends (he's had character development okay, he can see Lucienne is a friend and calls her so) and rewarding him before helping or what. perhaps there's a week where Hob is just, free to use for Lucienne for an entire week when Dream is visiting some other realm and since Lucienne will be left as basically in charge well, Hob's gotta be there for who's ruling, right? i just love Lucienne quite a lot and think they deserve the best things and an eager to please and follow instructions immortal who's all dolled up in whatever is Lucienne's favourite fashion style, following her around to help with books or whatever the Dreaming needs of her is compelling. maybe they just cuddle and kiss, maybe Lucienne tries whatever they've come across the many books and novels and dreams they've read in The Library, maybe Hob is a little surprised at first but not later to learn that what Lucienne needs is to not think for a while and let someone else take control because being left in charge of a decaying Dreaming for more than a century plus the stress that came in the very first months after Dream's return also took a toll on her and he's nothing if not a people pleaser and wanting to help and if he feels a little unhinged and feral with anger again over the whole situation of Dream being imprisoned but because of how it affected this fantastic raven-turned-human(ish) that's become his friend too well... I AM SORRY I KNOW WE HERE FOR SLUT HOB BUT WHAT I'M TRYING TO EXPLAIN HERE IS LIKE, EMOTIONAL SUPPORT FREE TOY HOB WHO, AS THE HUSBAND OF THE SHAPER OF FORMS WILL SHAPE HIS OWN NEEDS AROUND OTHER'S HE CARES ABOUT and Lucienne deserves such an obedient guy, as a threat 😌 have a nice day (2/2)

UMM HELLO IM OBSESSED WITH THIS??? Lucienne deserves all of the above. I’m thinking of Hob having a week as her assistant/PA so she can take time to actually like, breathe for a moment and also process her own trauma from Dream’s capture. Also Hob gives the best ever hugs (this is an indisputable fact) and probably trained as a massage therapist at some point in the 1960s for whatever reason. So he gives Lucienne a spa day all to herself with just the right level of planned activities so she’s not thinking (tm). And we all just know that Hob is good with his mouth and very willing to use it on whatever genitalia Lucienne prefers to have. Just. Hob helping Lucienne relax!! And Dream very much approving of the whole thing!!!! Fucking yes!!!!!! Hob as Husband Of The Whole Dreaming!!!!! Ahhhhh!!!!!!

[orionsangel86]

Deciding I couldn't wait to listen to Act 2 of The Sandman on Audible, I decided to just jump in and read the comics instead. I have consumed them at a pace far quicker than I thought I was capable of and have finally reached the end of the Worlds End books. The Kindly Ones is next. I know whats coming, but I can't bring myself to read on. The end of Worlds End left me with such a deep feeling of dread and melancholy, just like the guy at the inn, looking up at the giants in the sky...

The end of Brief Lives hurt, but I don't think I'm gonna be able to make it through The Kindly Ones. I wanna storm into Destiny's garden, rip his stupid book from his hands and tear out all the pages.

These dumb comics made me fall in love with that silly emo boy endless dream king more than the show ever did. My brain has gone and Castiel-ified him and I HATE myself for it.

I can't read on. I've hit an impasse. I need the ending to change... how many times have I complained on here how much I loathe tragedies.

Sigh.

As someone who generally doesn't like comics, these comics are fucking superb. The story is SO beautifully crafted. This is next level story weaving and how could I have expected anything less from Neil Gaiman really? But I NEED him to change the ending.

***Spoiler alert***

The whole way through this story so far there has been this idea that those who resist change die, that those are your options: you must change, or you must die. There is all this foreshadowing about change or death, and there are all these hints to different paths taken and choices made, I wonder if Neil was in several minds about how the story would end whilst he was writing, and in the end, he chose the tragic path. Dream couldn't change enough to prevent his death, it even seems, from what I have read so far and what little I have spoiled myself, that perhaps he even welcomes his death? Now that just wont do.

I don't know all the details of what comes next, but I do know the ending, and I don't like it. The one thing I keep clinging to is Hob's last dream, and the hope that perhaps that means that Morpheus isn't actually dead at all, but just free of his duty, free of his role, and out there somewhere, with his brother, at peace and happy. (Yes I already spoiled myself and read the comics with Hob and everything from the Ren Faire through to the dream on the beach had me sobbing even though I didn't know what had happened before)

I am almost certain Sandman will get more seasons at Netflix (and if Netflix don't renew someone else will snap it up - hopefully HBO) so am sure there will be a point in the future when these later stories are adapted and my god I hope they do change it, somehow. Even if everything still happens to lead to his death, i would need more emphasis on Hob's dream to basically confirm that he was still "alive" somewhere, that he was free, that he was happy...

That's my wish. Until then, I will go immerse myself in ridiculously sappy happy fluffy fanfiction I think. Thank FUCK for fanfiction!

[just-french-me-up]

answer in the tags : which ship were you on the fence about, clicked on a fic “just to see what the hype is all about” and ended up shipping to hell and back?

[vroomian]

(headdesk slam) Yes, that was 2/2 percent didn’t even realize I forgot to add it in the message until after I sent it and spent like 5 mins internally screaming at myself. I’m a mess of a human being tbh. Really? I’m surprised because it feels like Xi fits perfectly in this AU. Xi as accidental cryptid is the best thing, in both worlds. That’s a relief to hear. My anxiety and I don’t get along so I tend to go to worst possible scenario. You’ll probably regret that soon enough. 1/2

I’m like a magpie if something catches my interest and I’ll fuss over it and go all crazy. Especially now, seeing that you did that hob oneshot and mdzs that is two of the main three bl web novels that I now of. Like, of the three I’ve only fully read svsss and my mind immediately went to wonder where Xi would fit in that verse and at this point he’d totally be where the biggest amount of knowledge is and that my mind went ‘what if Xi was head disciple of Qing Jing Peak?’ 2/?

But that’s pretty unlikely given Xi’s desperate avoidance of feelings, plot, and responsibility. Though I could totally see him as a reluctant head disciple and desperately trying to avoid plot. Plus, definitely the first to notice that something would be off with this new Qingqiu. That said, bullying in his peak would not fly with him so I could see Binghe crushing on this unknown elder disciple.

3/3 I’m sorry I don’t want to make it seem like I want to push you to write another AU when you’ve got enough on your hands. My mind just just went ‘ooh what if this happened?’ And I wanted to share my thoughts with you because I think it’s interesting. So yeah, again feel free to ignore this. I’m like that guy from the meme with the pictures on the wall and red thread when my brain goes nuts lol.

long ask so this goes under the cut

okay there are a million different ways this question could go, because like. is yrz female in this universe? is he male? is he older than the main characters? is he younger? which sect is he living near? is his family nice or assholes? which version of the story is he in? the sssvs version or the actual original demon path novel (or whatever it’s been a while since i read the novel)??? does yrz get a system??? 

because the answers to those questions change the story drastically 

okay so lets do two versions 

one: it’s sssvs. yrz has a ‘background character system’ or something.  he’s gotta have a system otherwise he wouldn't get without a thousand li of cang qiang sect. so this systems chooses him (lets say he’s a guy in this universe) because its low key and yrz is low key and it was like hey lets be low key together!

lol system. 

lol. 

but the system and yrz get along pretty well, and they get into the peak they want -- which is Wan Jian peak, because if yrz can’t join the library peak because of Plot reasons, he’s going with hsi second love. Swords! plus i don’t think there are literally any named characters from the story, except the peak lord. 

so. timeline wise, i think that none of the peak-lords have ascended yet, so yrz does his natural thing --- he over performs and becomes the head disciple for wan jian peak  as consequence and it’s literally just in time for the former peak lords to ascend, so yrz is like. stuck. as a peak lord. 

both the system and yrz are horrified and confused as to how this happened. or, no, by then the system understands the Mistake it made in choosing yrz. on paper yrz is very unassuming! but in reality yrz has no chill. he’s never even heard of the concept of chill. he does everything at 110%.

I think that the bulk of this story takes place waaaay before the sssvs cannon, and lbh is sir not appearing in this fic. instead its -- liu qingge! and mu qingfang! both??? both is good! i think he meets lqg first, when he challenges yrz to a spar in the middle of a high stakes missing because lqg is a meathead jock at that age, and yrz is like. no? do your job? dumbass. (yrz has no idea who this shouty brat is, because the system is taking a nap. it wakes up and kicks itself for leaving yrz alone to do stuff.) yrz is older than lqg and kicks his ass because... well. because it’s hilarious really. so he gains a lqg shaped stalker. 

yrz has a lot of interest in both sparring and healing, and with lqg following him around, yrz spends a lot of time at the healing peak and meets mqf there. mqf gets a huge crush almost immediately but never said anything. it’s not surprising that yrz quickly bonds with these totally cool new disciples -- and then learns that both of the are the succeeding disciples for their peaks. oops. 

system gives up. 

version two: bing-ge edition! 

no system this time around and yrz stays far far away from the cang qiong. he joins a small sect to learn than fucks off to have adventures by himself as a rouge cultivator. so, male version again BUT yrz gets cursed or something and gets the ability to change gender at will because that’s funny and useful. also you know. porn world written by a “straight” guy. there are reasons for that kind of curse imma just gloss over. 

then the plot happens. all of immortal demon path’s many, many chapters are playing around in the background of yrz’s life, but she manages to stay out of it -- until one night yrz gets accidentally recruited by a cult dedicated to bringing down the evil demon lord lbh, because this cult has a book yrz is after. she ends up being used as bait for lbh (because he eats virgins now according to rumors. he’s up to wife number 249 by now so it’s not wrong !) 

yrz gets ‘saved’ by lbh, who’s kind of smirking and going ‘oh, no need to thank me, it was what anyone would have done,’ while totally expecting sex. yrz is like ‘oh, cool. bye then.’ and just. takes the book and leaves. 

lbh: *surprised pikachu face*

and by the time he registers no sex is going to be happening, yrz is long gone and enjoying her brand new book. 

after that, lbh and yrz end up seeing each other (mostly because lbh is trying to impress this woman and nothing is working) and yrz is like stop being a creep, i’m not interested in you. lbh needs to drink his respect woman juice and downsize on his harem a bit. yrz wouldn’t touch that with a twenty foot pool. 

anyway i think it comes to a head when they both get doused in pa pa pa juice and lbh is like oh this is more familiar, shall we? and yrz is like bitch. and goes to a brothel in the city instead. at this point yrz and lbh are more like antagonistic buddies than anything else. lbh has too many wives and zero friends. 

lbh starts developing some squishy feelings and is like what the fuck is this?? gross?? but he says nothing because he doesn’t get it. 

then the cross over happens, bing-ge vs bing-mei!!! and after than happens, yrz is just chilling at home and lbh shows up at her place like really fucked up and subdued. he’s like ‘why him? why did he get the good teacher? what did he do right?’ 

yrz is like... hm. emotions. ew. she trys anyway because she’s finally ready to admit that she does like this trash goblin at least a little. so she takes care of him while he’s being depressed. lbh cooks for her and she’s like. this is so fucking good. thank you. 

and lbh is just in love now. it’s nothing like he feels for his wives, but yrz makes lbh feels safe and accepted. it’s a comforting and comfortable love. yrz’s stupid little house is more of a home than lbh’s stupid palaces. 

look. i stand by the head cannon that all lbh wants is to be a househusband, no matter what version im talking about. 

lbh vanishes for a whole night. yrz is like hm, my house feels empty now. weird! and then lbh comes back and announces that he just divorced all his wives. he doesn’t want to be powerful anymore so can i stay herer with you. 

yrz is like... sure. 

and then there’s a long, long courtship and lbh marries yrz and archives his dream of just being fucking happy. the end!

[scribeofmorpheus]

His Girl Tuesday - Prologue

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Tuesday Adams x  Billy Hargrove

[Series Masterlist] [Main masterlist] [AO3]

A/N: I know I said I wouldn’t post any chapters for this fic yet, but I had to write down this opening scene before it disappeared. So now, we have a prologue and I just want to remind everyone, this series won’t pick up until I’ve concluded my on-going ones (let’s be honest though, how many times have I said this and then started a new fic immediately after?).

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, butchered Spanglish | Words: 2k

January, ‘85...

An open can of spaghetti, a bubbling pot of coffee and a sizzling pan were the three key signifiers that one half of the Adams household was awake.

Tuesday moved the spatula around as though she was digging through the strands of pasta to find some hidden treasure. When nothing was found, she took the pan off the hot hob and placed it on another, filling her mug with scalding hot coffee and unfolding the newspaper to do the crossword for the day. As she scribbled in the answer for five-across-six-down, her mind began to fill with static as a disembodied voice screeched in her head.

 "Please, no! Don't hurt me, please!"

Shattering sounds of teeth breaking; an echoing sinister laugh; wet coughs and splattering blood.

Tuesday pinched the bridge of her nose and drowned out the evasive inhuman shouts with a gulp of bitter coffee. Her temples throbbing something fierce.

"Ughh," she groaned as her vision filled with flares of light, a cold tingling shooting up her spine. The sensations were chased away by the familiar snoring sounds erupting from her father's burly chest over by the couch. His nasal rumble filled the small two-bedroom house with a conjoined dining and kitchen area with a billowing strength.

"Thanks, Dad," she whispered in relief, her father too deep in slumber to have heard her.

Tuesday poured the rest of her coffee into a thermos and washed up the dishes -making sure to put the morning's leftovers in a tupperware box in the fridge for when he woke up.

She grabbed her keys and slipped into her work overalls, her hand almost at the door when she caught a whiff of smoke from the pair of socks on the floor. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Tuesday grabbed her dad's socks and ventured into his room to pick up the discarded clothing left in scattered piles on his bedroom floor, stuffing them into the ancient washing machine before she grabbed his bedroom alarm clock and set it for 3 pm, placing it by the side table next to the couch so he won't sleep through it. She kissed him goodbye and hopped into her crappy jalopy on her way to work.

***

The sound of welding, hammering and an old tuned-out radio filled the grease smelling, poorly lit garage at Fix-em Up Auto Repair. Tuesday found the disorienting loudness of the small space comforting. It made it harder for her to hear the voices.

Whilst waist-deep in the engine of a yellow buggy, Tuesday saw a pair of dusty, worn-out combat boots walk her way. A smile creeping on her face.

"Hey, little missy, I'm looking to get a tune-up. Know who I can speak to about that?"

Tuesday removed herself from under the hood and pulled the lever down so it shut with a pathetic thud.

Wiping her hands on her rag, she shifted her toothpick from one cheek to the other, eyeing the man in front of her lasciviously, "Depends… What's the make?"

The blonde tugged on his leather jacket, advancing closer like a hunter on the prowl, "'82 Trans-Am."

Tuesday leaned onto the hood of the buggy, the metal straining under her weight. "Oh! Tough luck, buddy. I only work on real men's cars, like a mustang or a porch." Her tone grew more and more teasing.

"Real men's cars huh?" He took a step forward, his hips toughing her under-thighs.

 "What the hell are you freak?"

Wheezing; metal scraping against metal. A club whizzing through the air, flesh pressed inwards beyond where it should; eyes as black as ink.

Tuesday rubbed at her eyes with a soft mumble, vertigo pushing her further down, toothpick slipping through parted lips.

"Baby," he took her face in his hands, steadying her body. "You good?"

Tuesday clicked her tongue in frustration, "Yeah, just my bloody tinnitus. I'm fine Billy, just a dizzy spell."

Billy scratched at his untended scruff, "You really should get that looked at."

Tuesday rolled her eyes, hopping off the hood and walking towards the work desk area, "Sure, once Jack gives me a raise and I don't need to save up for college anymore."

Billy groaned, kicking his boots as he followed after her, "Again with that pipe-dream. There are more fun things than being glued to a classroom chair listening to depressed old professors who spend most of their time looking up girl's skirts."

"Oh, and I suppose you've got a better idea for what I should do with my future?" Tuesday lifted her eyebrows as she poured the morning's coffee into a paper cup.

"Yeah, I do," Billy leaned against the counter, licking his lips. "You and me, the open road, sleazy motels and greasy diner food."

Zipping down her overalls, Tuesday pulled her arms out of the sleeves, letting the cool air dry the sweat sticking to the hairs on her arms. She huffed, "Sounds charming."

Billy pulled out a cigarette from behind his ear, "Baby, if you wanted charming, you'd be working as a sexy little librarian, shelving books and wearing tight skirts, not beige overalls."

Tuesday popped a painkiller and took a sip of her bitter luke-warm drink, it was as dissatisfying as the quality of the music playing off the radio. Static fizzled in and out and the station's signal kept dropping unexpectedly. She balled her fist and banged on the cheap radio several times until it stopped.

Billy whistled, "You know, on second thought, maybe I don't need that tune-up after all."

A breathy laugh escaped her chapped lips, "Good, because I don't give out freebies." She took another swig. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but… isn't it your day off?"

"What, I can't come over and visit my girl on my day off?" Billy asked, lit cigarette held between his teeth.

Tuesday shrugged, "Your girl, huh?"

Squinting one eye, Billy leaned close to whisper, "Well I figured since friends don't make a habit of sleeping with each other…"

Tuesday punched his chest, firm muscles colliding with her dainty knuckles. Billy's eyes narrowed when he saw her lower shoulder. In a possessive move, he put out his cigarette on the vinyl counter, a black spot permanently burned into it as he rolled up the rest of her shirt's sleeve and moved her towards the light to get a better look at the purple and yellow mark imposing on her flesh.

"How'd you get this?" His voice held an edge to it, thick eyelashes covering his eyes under a dark hood.

Tuesday looked down at the bruise, previously unaware of its existence. With a nonchalant nod, she said, "Don't know. Must've bumped into something."

Billy unclenched and let her arm go, believing her easily. His silvery-blue eyes shedding their darkness in the process.

 "Son of a bitch! You thought you could kill me?"

The electric hum of fluorescence; the reverberation of shattering glass; a sickly sinking feeling like drowning in tar; cold, frozen-ice cold.

Tuesday shook her head, today was one of the worse days.

"You sure you're okay?" Billy questioned, his hand lifting her chin to meet his penetrating gaze.

For a moment she flirted with the idea of saying no just to see how he'd react, but she knew Billy was coarse, lacking a sensitive touch. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had closed that part of him off, forming a tough shell around himself as a form of self-preservation. That closed-off nature of his brought forth a roughness in him that had initially drawn Tuesday to him. It made him a great distraction and a great lay. And right now, she felt desperate for an escape.

Licking her lips, Tuesday leaned in close to nibble at his parted lips. At first, he didn't move, he simply let her lavish his mouth with her tongue. Then with a pleased groan, Billy wrapped his hands around her midriff and pulled her into a deep kiss.

 "You'll pay for tha--"

Quiet: empty, hollow… free.

Tuesday let out a thankful gasp when the voices died out. Looking up she noticed Billy's pupils had diluted with hunger, the saliva on his lips making them shine like a well-maintained paint job.

"Your house empty?" he asked.

"Uh-uh, my dad had a late shift, he'll probably still be there."

Billy's nostrils flared as he let out a deep exhale at the anti-climax.

Tuesday's lips curled upwards at the prospect of an alternative, "What about your car?"

"You read my mind."

"Juan, I'm heading out for an early lunch!" Tuesday shouted at the man in the back office.

"Is Jack, Jack! We're open. Only Juan after closing!" Her boss shouted back with a thick Puerto Rican accent.

"Right, sorry Jack!" Tuesday corrected and Billy scrunched his eyebrows together.

***

Billy's strong grip directed Tuesday in the backseat of his car. Seat buckles, cassette covers and random junk food wrappers pressed into her back, the sound of rustling filling in between the moans and pants.

"Fuck," Billy grumbled as he had issue unbuttoning his tight jeans, his erection bulging against the frame hugging material.

Tuesday giggled as she ran her fingers up his thighs, across his bulge and towards his button.

Billy bit his lip, savouring her exploring touch. With a satisfying pop, his jeans were loosened and he pulled them down to his knees. With greedy fingers, Billy yanked down Tuesday's overalls and pulled her bra over her breasts until it rested just shy of her neck.

Tuesday's open palm pressed against his exposed abs, halting Billy's efforts to undress her. Sighing, he asked, "What is it?"

"You got protection, Romeo?"

Billy riffled through his pockets and a frown grew over his heated gaze, "Son of a bitch!" The muscles in his jaw started working before they uncoiled and his eyes widened at the glovebox.

Reaching over, he pulled out all the cassette's and spare change and moved a hair comb out of the way until he spotted a golden wrapper.

The condom unrolled over his dick with a slapping noise, Tuesday giggled as Billy's face contorted into a painful pursing of his lips for a brief second.

"That wasn't funny," Billy grumbled as he leaned over her.

Tuesday wiggled out of her panties before wrapping her legs around his back, "It was a little funny."

What followed after was a reel of thrusts, hair tugging, gasps and suckling kisses peppered around Tuesday's neck and collarbone. Billy's hips began to sputter as he neared his climax, his thumb adding delicious pressure on Tuesday's clit as her walls undulated and contracted around him. Semen filled the condom and the both of them lay limp in his backseat, the fogged up windows obscuring the ugly view of the garage's empty parking lot.

Tuesday patted Billy on the back, "Nice work, lover boy. I needed that."

Billy's chest vibrated as a bemused laugh tickled her ears, "I don't know about you, but after this work out I could use a bite to eat."

"Food sounds divine right now."

Billy kissed the corner of her eye that folded slightly, pulling himself from inside her, "Fries?"

Tuesday nodded.

***

"What was with that ‘Jack not Juan’ stuff earlier?" Billy dipped two fries in ketchup while Tuesday slurped up her coke through a red and white straw.

"Mmm, its stupid but it's sort of a sales thing. Jack noticed a bump up in his commissions when people thought the owner of Fix-em Up was named Jack and not Juan, so he stuck with it."

"You're right, that is stupid."

"C'est la vie."

In the corner of her eye, Tuesday noticed a family of six sitting in a booth by the window. The neon open sign bathing all four kids in bright magenta. One of the kids looked up at her and pulled at his eyelids, tongue sticking out. His mother, noticing this, pulled him by the ear and scolded him in stern whispers.

"Fucking brats," Billy murmured as he lounged deeper in the seat.

Tuesday redirected her gaze to the humming florescence above, "C'est la vie."

***

After her lunch break, Tuesday rapped on Jack's door with a take-out bag in hand, loud Cuban music playing from within.

"Si?"

Tuesday opened the door halfway, "Lunch."

"Ah, gracias."

"De nada."

Jack beamed her a thankful smile, "You finish with the bug?"

"Mmm, almost, just need to oil her up and check the brake line."

Jack gave her a thumbs up, "Okay."

"Did Sam fix the gato?"

Jack looked at her with a confused expression, mustard on his cheek from the burger, "The cat?"

Tuesday slapped her palm on her forehead at the obvious linguistic slip-up before making a cranking motion with her hands, "The jack."

"Ah, the gato!" Jack said in recognition. "Yes, he send it. It's in the back. He wanted to charge extra dinero. That Estúpido. I told him I know the prices, he can't cheat me. I may not speak good Inglés, but I'm no idiot either."

"I told you not to go to Sam, he's… a hard-ass."

"Hard-ass?"

"Forget it, I'm going to finish up on the bug."

Jack gave another thumbs up in exchange of words, his mouth full of bread and meat.

 The burn of liquid cascading down a dry gullet leaving behind a buzz of alcohol assimilating through veins; a rapid heartbeat; tingles of adrenaline swirling in an intoxicating downward spiral.

“Again?” Tuesday braced her temples, body swaying yet again. "Come on!"

When the dizzy spell passed, she picked up the car jack and placed it under the buggy. As she cranked the lever, the jack groaned suspiciously. Tuesday cocked her head to the side, taking a step back and eyeing the jack to see if it would hold. Despite the alarming groans, the car didn't move an inch.

"Sam, you better have fixed it like you said," she thought aloud.

With a gulp of air, Tuesday pulled the creeper to her feet so she could sit on it, fixing a head torch onto her head.

Using the floor as an oar, Tuesday rolled herself under the car and started working underneath the car.

While she busied herself, another set of tires rolled up to the garage and the sound of car doors being opened and slammed echoed through the room.

"Hello?" A masculine voice called out as the bell dinged. Several smaller footsteps gathered after him in the garage too. An argument playing out between two kids about a film or something other.

When Jack didn't answer, and the bell dinged for a second time, Tuesday shouted out, "Over here. Gimmie a moment!"

The crank groaned again and then a nut flew off its side and suddenly the car started to plummet down. Tuesday braced her face as everything moved in slow motion. When a second past and Tuesday remained uncrushed, she peeked through her folded arms and was shocked to see the car moving away from her body, gliding over to the side where it landed with a loud crash.

"Holy shit," she mouthed in disbelief, eyelids pulled back as far as they could go as she craned her head to the group of people standing by the counters.

A girl with short hair wiped the blood from her nose with the inside of her flannel shirt. The group of boys standing next to her with mouths gaping open -though something told her it wasn't in amazement from what she just saw. The oldest among them rushed to her side, sneakers squeaking against the concrete floor, hands bracing hers as he helped her up.

"You're Steve Harrington," Tuesday recognised him from high-school. "And that's Nancy Wheeler's younger brother."

"I guess we can't pretend to be out of towners," Steve half-joked as he ran his hands through his hair and then around Tuesday's frame in a pre-emptive effort to ensure she didn't topple over from shock. "You're uh… Wednesday right?"

"Tuesday," her voice was soft, bewildered even. Her eyes narrowing now at the group of kids who backed away without losing eye contact, "What…" She looked up at Steve. "What the fuck just happened?"

  To be continued...

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