#actually would be something she would take with pride

[lucygraysboy]

“my ma had once attempted to teach me when i was little, but i was too rambunctious to be able to focus on knitting for more than fifteen minutes. promise i’m a lot more patient now,” the cowboy laughs, pale blue eyes taking in the look on lucy gray’s face, hypnotized. these doe-like hues will be the death of him. all the kindness that’s buried deep inside her chest seems to be shining right through, making him feel so mushy and warm on the inside. she truly deserves the world, and he’ll do everything in his power to give it to her. “speakin’ of songs… was you singin’ a song when i first saw you? i was so exhausted and dehydrated, it’s all so blurry now but i thought i was at the gates of heaven and an angel was welcomin’ me with a song. what were you singin’ ‘bout?” he wonders out loud, just now reminded of the moment he first laid eyes on her. he was so out of it, and now he can barely tell what really happened and what’s only a figment of his imagination. “thanks for thinkin’ so. i didn’t want ‘im to be no outlaw. i wanted ‘im to have an honest job an’ a good life.” but now that joe’s gone, billy can’t help but wonder if maybe he was a little too hard on the boy, expected too much of him. “always. well, except for the time i went and beat up her husband ‘cause he kept makin’ her cry, bringin’ no money home, stealin’ hers… spendin’ it all in brothels and saloons. she told me to leave ‘im be, but i couldn’t.” his pride and honor and the love he had for her wouldn’t let him. 

“yeah? good ‘cause i would never.” boss her around. he thinks that’s how it should be — men should listen to women more often, they’d benefit from that. “i’m mr. sugar bucket sweet potato, and you’re miss birdie boo little carrot,” he laughs, not caring the names make little to no sense. it’s the thought and affection that counts. “i mean, i kind of understand. if i was a goat, i wouldn’t let no strange cowboy near my udders either. i’d kick ‘im in the head.” expression softening as she touches his cheek, his heart melting into a puddle, making it difficult for him to focus on anything but the way her hand feels so nice and somehow soothes the sunburn on his skin. “i’m hungry, too. it’s ‘cause of that lake. water always makes you hungry, is what i’ve noticed.” he follows her back outside, where the last rays of the setting sun have painted the porch a warm, golden hue. it’s a little more humid now, but the wind remains pleasant, lacking its bite. he lays the potatoes down on the table and takes a seat opposite to her, just so that he can admire her beautiful features in this light. if he only could paint, he’d paint her like this. “this is real nice. this table, i mean. beautiful carpentry.” he praises, but what he actually means is this, the two of them doing something so mundane together after a long, fun day, is nice. he wouldn’t mind spending every afternoon for the rest of his life doing this. “i don’t know if i’ve ever told you this, but i’m a very experienced potato-peeler. it was always my job to peel ‘em when i was little,” he brags with a smile, his hands, rough and calloused moving with practiced ease, as if peeling potatoes was as natural as roping a steer to him. 

"that's exactly why i was thinkin' it'd be good to teach you." he already read her mind, she was thinking it could be useful when he sets out on his own. a shy smile spills over kind visage at being called sweet, of course she remembered. and of course each time he says another sweet thing, it flushes her in a warm sensation of love. fills that void and all the hurt that being talked down to by the preacher that has carved a hole in her chest with, a little at each time. "course i think so. poem's are beautiful. poem's are a lot like songs... and i do love writin' songs." speaking fondly, smiling affectionately. "well, for some reason i think that's cute," lucy gray laughs, the part about bossing his brother around because he wanted to take good care of him. "and at least you listened to your mother." so safe to say, she finds that cute too. putting a cute grin on her face because it's adorable he was stubborn but still so respectful to his mama. "i'm just playin' with you, billy. i don't think you would." a gentle expression softens her features as she peers up at him, after handing him his armful of vegetables. "you're a sweet potato." since they're holding potatoes, small laugh emitting.

hand reaches up to gently pat his cheek, he's so cute, he's gotta stop being that cute in personality and his eyes are too big and pure for her heart to handle. "it's best i do that, anyway. she really is picky with that. she might really try to bite you if you grab on her udders." the brunette laughs, but genuinely feels bad for shamus for being scarred by men. "i'm hungry." amusingly replying, scooping out an armful of carrots next before shutting the lid back. "alright, let's go." grabbing a pan, she leads them back out of the house and off the porch and climbs onto the picnic table's seat before dumping her vegetables on the table top and sitting the pan down. she's got a knife sitting in the middle, she goes ahead and grabs that and starts cutting.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Hello, my darlings! 🌻

Since it’s been a while since we've last seen our Darlingtons, I thought it would be nice to do a little recap and see where we left our pixel babes. We also have some new folks who joined us during What the Water Gave Me, so if any of you are interested in my historical story, I thought this might be helpful for yall too! I also have a new reader guide, if you're inclined. And as a reminder, I have also added Previous / Next buttons to the 1930s, so if you’d like to catch up on this decade you can begin here.

But before we jump back into the story in earnest, let's take a look at how 1935 has been going....

We opened with Antoine and Josephine on the road, where Antoine's first tour was such a success that his sister and manager Josephine negotiated a deal for two more. Just like she had previously done, she signed the deal with her former employer Hosa Grove without consulting Antoine, although he didn't hesitate nearly as much as he did the first time (or consult his own wife, Zelda).

When Antoine returns home, Zelda almost immediately senses that something has shifted in him. He returns with a stack of songs he's written, which she's too anxious to admit make her feel as though he's moving on to a new stage of his life, one in which she is notably not included in. His assurances carefully avoid answering her actual question, which both of them notice but neither really know how to address as they each try to defer to the other in some way.

Zelda' question to Antoine continues to echo in his mind after she's asked it. Are you happy when you’re out there? What unveils is something that he doesn't really know how to discuss with her, or anyone other than his own guitar: namely that he's filled with pride at his success, and feels as though he's playing not only for himself now, but also generations of Black men who were never given the opportunity he feels as though he has now. Its driving him back on the road, even if he personally may not find happiness in that life for himself.

The only person who Antoine shares this with in some capacity is his former employer, Abraham Hines. Going back on the road also means formally quitting his job on Abe's ranch, which fills Antoine with both sadness and guilt after Abe offered him the job in good faith. But what began as a professional relationship has turned into warm friendship, especially as their children William and Violette are also now close.

As Josephine and Antoine prepare to go back on the road, a sense of normality returns to the household. Antoine and Zelda choose to ignore the misunderstanding between them in favor of enjoying what little time they have together. Meanwhile, the other couple on the farm, Josephine and Giorgio, reach a point of accord after many years of distrust and dissatisfaction. The root of their tension can primarily be traced to Giorgio’s lie that tricked Josephine into moving on the farm in the first place - a life that made her miserable and feel as though she had lost all autonomy in favor of Gio’s dreams.

The scales between them began to tilt when Jo discovered that Gio had taken out a huge loan on their farm, and that he, Antoine, and Zelda had all been lying to her about it. Her initial deal with Hosa paid off a significant portion of the loan, and she now owns 25% of the farm (with Antoine owning another 25% and Gio 50%). This, and the feeling of freedom that she gets on the road, has allowed her to feel stable, and enjoy the quiet domestic life that Gio had tried to corner her into in the first place. Just before she leaves again he gives her a pair of bright red driving gloves, symbolizing his acceptance of the freedom she wants and the accord they've found in their life.

Only before she returns to the road, Jo’s newfound stability is undermined by her relationship with her former employer, Valcita Grove. After learning of Gio’s loan, Jo had taken a job at Val’s bar, and fostered a close relationship between them in part due to their mutual attraction, but also to get back at Gio for lying to her. Now that the she and Gio are in a happier place, Jo returns to Val’s house to borrow her car, only to still be tormented by the same restless thoughts that she had when she was unhappy. Horrified with herself, Jo leaves for their second tour trying to convince herself that whatever she feels for Val (alongside the nagging sensation that she wants something more) can be blown away by the freedom she feels on the road and the love she has for Gio.

Once Antoine and Josephine leave for their second tour, we are left at the farmhouse with Gio and Zelda, who still has the feeling that her husband is moving on without her. She isn't necessarily unhappy, just stuck with the nagging sensation that something is missing from her life, and she’s ended up in a position she didn’t quite sign up for. Meanwhile, she and Giorgio work the failing fields together as they have for years. With their partners gone, they rely on each other in small ways - Gio's good nature curbing Zelda's anxieties, and Zelda's quiet knowledge keeping Gio from fixating on the fact that his dream is on the cusp of failing.

On a hot Summer day a book truck interrupts the menial life that the two of them are living alongside Zelda and Antoine's daughter Violette. As Violette runs around the book truck excitedly, Zelda immediately gets distracted by it, instantly forgetting her anxieties surrounding parenting her child or the melancholia that her life is missing something. Violette finds a copy of her favorite book, The Wizard of Oz, while Zelda talks to the driver, Alexander Barnes, who gives her his card and invites her to come to his office at the town courthouse.

Rather than take him up on this offer, Zelda agonizes over her desire to do so. When she goes to pick up Violette from school, she muses on how young and full of potential the children are - mirroring her own feeling that her life path is set and any sort of potential change she may long for is childish and imagined. After enthusiastically agreeing with Violette's teacher that her daughter begin ballet lessons, she turns around to look at the courthouse, imagining that she simply crosses the street to ask Alexander Barnes more about the book truck. But just before her daughter emerges, Zelda decides that it was nothing but a foolish daydream.

Meanwhile, Antoine and Josephine's days on the road stretch out, effecting Violette, who is now almost eleven years old. Always closer to her father and aunt, their absence has made her distrustful, angry, and heightened her sense of abandonment. We see her coping through ballet, as she focuses all her energy into perfecting her steps rather than counting down the days until her father returns.

—

And so we last saw our Darlingtons…

- Antoine following the pull of music, approaching a crossroads where he may have to chose it or his family, but unsure if it even makes him happy at all.

- Zelda feeling restless and left behind, within sight of something she wants for her life but too anxious to follow it in earnest.

- Giorgio willing to give up control and share in Jo’s vision of their future, but perhaps at the end of the line of how much he’s willing to give up quietly.

- Josephine finally finding some sense of peace and happiness, only to still unwittingly feeling a restless pull from deep inside of her that she rather ignore than battle.

- And our heiress, Violette, on the cusp of her preteen years developing her independence and emotional maturity in a warped way. She’s channeling her loneliness into perfecting an art that she was already talented at, and developing an understanding that dreams may always lie just outside of Strangerville city limits.

[swtt4hk]

Meeting Sang-woo’s mom for the first time… || Cho Sang-woo x fem!Reader (Oneshot)

requested by: @sensationallysangwoo

you and Cho Sang-woo have been dating for a while. You guys met through a mutual friend who introduced you to each other and you both fell in love on first sight.

Sang-woo is a successful business man , who grew up in Ssangmun-dong as the smartest boy and the pride of his neighbourhood. His standards for women were always pretty high and that’s why he took a while to find the right woman. But when he first looked at you , he knew you were the one. The love of his life.

Your relationship with Sang-woo is all that you’ve dreamed of. He buys you gifts , you go on trips together and on his days off , he makes sure to give you all his attention. You couldn’t ask for something more and neither could he.

The fact that he wanted you to meet his mom , was a big deal for both of you. It meant that the relationship was getting more serious. You couldn’t lie , you were nervous about meeting his mom , even though he reassured you that everything will be okay and that his mom will absolutely adore you.

—are you sure she’ll like me? What if she thinks I’m not good enough for you?

you keep asking those kind of questions until you arrive at Sang-woo’s hometown , Ssangmun-dong. He helps you get out of the car and he can sense how nervous you feel and totally understands it. He’s a successful businessman while you’re just a secretary at a , not so very successful, company.

you’re just a few steps away from Sang-woo’s mother shop. She runs a fish shop , which you found ridiculous at first because with the money that Sang-woo has , his mom wouldn’t have to work for the rest of her life , but his mom actually enjoys working , even if it’s just a fish shop.

Sang-woo holds your hand tightly and gives you a reassuring smile.

—everything’s gonna be okay , hm? Just be yourself and don’t be nervous. You know that everytime you get nervous , it doesn’t help you with anything and it only makes things worse.

You take a deep breath before giving him a nod to walk towards him mom. When you stand in front of the store , Sang-woo’s mother looks at both of you with surprise.

—ah! Son what a nice surprise!

she says and hugs him

—it’s nice to see you again mom…

Sang-woo gestures you to stand beside him

—who is that son? Is she your co-worker?

Sang-woo chuckles

—no mom she….she is my girlfriend. And I brought here to introduce you to her.

his mom takes a look at you

—ahhh it’s so nice to meet you! What’s your name sweetheart?

—my name is Y/N…it’s so nice to family meet you mrs Hye-jin , Sang-woo has told me a lot about you.

—ohh I hope he has said good things about me!

she jokes and you all laugh.

She gets you to sit at a table , behind the store and you all start talking. As the conversation keeps going, your anxiety goes away and you start getting more comfortable with Sang-woo’s mom. She’s actually a really nice woman and she’s not too nosy or annoying like any other mom would be towards her son’s girlfriend.

At some point , Sang-woo excuses himself to go answer a call and leaves you too alone and your anxiety comes back. Sang-woo was helping the conversation to keep going but now you don’t know what to say. His mom looks at you with a serious expression on her face and sighs before speaking to you.

—Y/N…do you love my son?

the question catches you off guard but you look at her with a reassuring smile and respond

—of course I do , mrs Hye-jin.

—do you promise you’ll keep being a good girlfriend to him? He has told me a lot about you and I’m truly happy that he’s found the love of his life but…as his mom , I’m still worried.

—of course! I promise I’ll keep being nice to him , take care of him and maybe , in the future…take good care of our kids.

Sang-woo’s mom smiles and holds your hand

—I’m so happy to hear that you see your relationship with Sang-woo as a serious one. He’s been through a lot and I’m so thankful that he’s finally happy and in a serious relationship. You’ve changed him a lot…in a good way of course. But please focus on your job and responsibilities too because if you give him too much attention he becomes a brat.

She jokes and you both chuckle

—thank you for accepting me into your family mrs Hye-jin…I promise I’ll focus on both my job and Sang-woo and…I’ll keep an eye on him so he doesn’t become a brat.

You say and you both laugh again. Then Sang-woo comes back and sits on the table.

—What did I miss?

His mom looks at him with a strict attitude

—ya! How dare you start dating a girl like her and not introduce her to me earlier, huh?

His mom shouts at him and you try to hold your laugh back.

—hey mommm! I just wanted to see if things actually got serious! I’m sorry!

he says in a whiney tone

—make sure to take care of her properly! She’s a diamond , we can’t lose her , understood?

Sang-woo rolls his eyes

—understood…

You all have a good laugh , make more jokes and talk about many many things. Meeting Sang-woo’s mom wasn’t that bad after all…

———————————————————————

Thank you soooo much @sensationallysangwoo for requesting this ff! It really was a great idea and I enjoyed writing it! More fics coming soon!

[confused-reading-ink-rat]

(Snippet from the previous part:)

Galinda froze, feeling the skin just below her ear start to tingle. She hurriedly sat herself in front of her mirror, eagerly staring at her reflection, waiting for the colors to mark her body. 

As the door opened and her roommate invited herself inside, Galinda stared in disbelief. 

A simple green poppy with heart-shaped petals. 

Then, Galinda spoke in a soft tone she didn't know she could say with the name she had laced with malice so many times slipped out of her lips. 

"Elphaba."

—————

Elphaba stood there, blinking in confusion. Galinda looked away from the mirror on her vanity, turning to her with soft eyes, looking at her almost longingly, like she was something to be missed. Of course, it wasn’t, at least that’s what she told herself.

“Elphaba.” The blonde repeated, whispering softly as if she was talking to a frightened child. She was, in a way, young Elphaba would have rejoiced at the tone her name was being called. However, the current Elphaba remained frozen and confused. 

The first time could have been an accident, a slip-up, Galinda Upland wouldn’t be caught dead calling her name like that. In truth it probably was a mistake, taking Galinda’s shock when she heard herself. But here she was, doing it again, and consciously? Why, she feared her roommate might have actually lost it. What she would have thought if she ever truly believed the girl had it in the first place.

“Galinda.” She echoed, keeping her tone as dry as possible. She felt a tingle just below her ear, something that called for her attention. She brushed it off as she walked to her part of the room. She kept her attention on her tasks, swiftly fixing her drawers with her books and limited school supplies. Even occasionally walking across the room to organize her very few possessions. She hardly changed anything, but she had to move.

Galinda stared at her the whole time, her eyes tracking every movement, glazing over little details. There was something in her gaze that Elphaba couldn’t quite read, and she prides herself in being able to read people easily. It was a very usefull skill when everyone only looked at you in disdain, but she soon learned ther were nuances to that disdain. That was the only reason she knew of any other emotion, Dulcibear tried to teach her, but she was a bear and only knew so much of human expressions. Where was that skill when she most needed it? She’s had people stare before, different muddled gazes of disdain, fear, confusion, amusement, and if she's lucky, intrigue. Intrigue but not in a way one would show a person they want to mingle with, but intrigue the same one holds for study, for an exceptionally rare insect they were fascinated by.

Elphaba Thropp had people stare at her, her whole life was filled with strange looks and barely-hidden disgust.

But she had never been stared at like this, she doesn't recognize this.

This was something different, something new.

And she hated it.

She hated she couldn't understand it. She'd always been that way with things she didn't understand.

Eventually, Elphaba had enough, no, more than enough.

She turned her gaze to Galinda, silently hoping a glare would communicate enough and she’d stop staring at her in that way. But instead she did something Elphaba never and couldn't have expected, because of course she did. She always did.

“We’re soulmates.” the blonde whispered gently, then gave her a small but sincere smile. She spoke softly as if she’d just shared her heart’s deepest secret, their deepest secret. One that was just between the two of them. If that's what's this is, Elphaba intended to keep it that way.

“Excuse me?” Elphaba asked harshly, she feared her tone was a lot more accusatory than necessary, it was. She saw it in the way Galinda’s expression fell. The way her soft smile was wiped from her face almost immediately.

Disappointment, Elphaba thought.

Disappointment, Galinda’s mind echoed. But not in Elphaba, but herself, Oz knows how many horrendible things she's done to the poor girl. The words slipped out before she can register what she’s saying, but that seemed to be the theme of the night, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry.”

Gentle, apologetic, and most of all, sincere.

Elphaba stared at her as if she had gone and did three cartwheels, professed herself enemy of the state, then had tea with a tiger. Galinda isn’t sure what conjured the imagery that passed through her head just now, mad would have sufficed. Maybe she was mad. She chose to blame it on the exhilaration of finding her soulmate. And the bewilderment of who it was.

“We’re soulmates.” Elphaba muttered, not loud, but loud enough for Galinda to hear what she was saying. 

Galinda nodded in reply, but she wanted to do more. So she spoke, “Yes, we are.” she affirmed.

“This,” The green girl stepped forward, each step calculated and measured, as if entering a predator’s territory. “Changes nothing.”

The Gillikinese girl stares at her and nods. Elphaba stares back, trying to decipher the unreadable expression in her eyes and failing. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered again helplessly.

“Sorry? Of course you’re sorry.” The sad, angry, and bitter part of Elphaba reared its ugly head, she hardly lost control nowadays, and she hasn’t since arriving at Shiz. Years of bullying and being neglected can do that to you. She hardly lost control, but that didn’t mean she didn’t.

“You’re only sorry because I’m your soulmate.” she hissed, clenching her fists. “If I wasn’t, you would keep throwing insults left and right! You'll keep calling me names, artichoke, green bean- you’d keep interrupting me like I had nothing important to say, ostracizing me like I didn't belong. Alright, maybe I didn't!" Maybe she was projecting far too much, but the moment she lost control, it was impossible to get it back. "And I can deal with that, I always have! Insults, social isolation, I had that and more. But you didn't have to go so far as to start destroying my things!” she uttered the last sentence with more conviction than intended.

She hardly had any possessions to begin with, much less at Shiz, and certainly very few compared to Galinda’s mountain of souvenirs from home. So the very little she had, she cherished. From the small notes in pieces of paper and parchment she took in class to the books borrowed from the library and down to her black dyed school uniform and prestigious magick volumes and spells. 

And to have them trashed? Destroyed? For what? Because others couldn’t believe she was on top of the class? Because she was the only one in Madame's Morrible’s Sorcery class? Because she was green? That was too much, even for her.

“Doing what?” Galinda asked, her own fists clenching. She stood up abruptly, her eyes boring into Elphaba’s. Had she been unaware? Elphaba blinked, her composure faltering before she remembered what she was talking about.

"What?" Oh great, Elphaba thought to herself. Now that she no longer had rage to pull from, she had shrank back to her old self. She had run out of resolve and didn't quite know how to respond.

“Do you not- today, someone dumped their coffee on my notes. It’s not all gone, nothing a drying spell wouldn’t fix-” She doesn’t know why she’s downplaying it, especially when it's something that hurt hernso badly. Yet something told her that the anger in Galinda’s eyes is dangerous, and she had to distract her from it as soon as possible.

“Also, you did bully me and loathe me for my whole stay up since the start of the school year.” she reminded the blonde.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed.

“I’m sorry.” Galinda repeated, her anger melting back into apology.

“You sound like a broken record.” More poison than necessary.

Galinda stiffened.

Then, as Elphaba began to walk back to her bed when the girl added, “I’ll take care of them.” 

She almost felt bad for the victim of Galinda’s wrath, but you know what? They deserve it. 

She does not see the mark behind her ear, the pink reflection of Galinda's own mark.

She doesn't have to.

She knows Galinda is her soulmate.

It's just a question if Elphaba would let herself be Galinda's.

(Part 2?)

To the people who commented they wanted more;

@nether2010

I unfortunateky can't seem to tag kekescalope

Shout out to the anon who asked me about this earlier today!

Part 1 : Here

[bokunodumbassery]

I know I usually stick closer to canon on this blog, but I have some random trans BNHA considerations (interaction notes at the end):

- Transfem Shinsou. That kid is the Ultimate Egg. I see a lot of nb headcanons for Shinsou, which I think make sense, but honestly I read them as a trans woman.

- Transmasc Yaoyorozu. Again, I see a lot of transfem Yaoyorozu headcanons, but my gut tells me that they're someone who is Performing Perfect Girlhood very well, and possibly even takes pride in being elegant/knowledgeable/etc, but largely does it for the sake of being who they are supposed to be. Give them cargo pants, an energy drink, and a ticket to a rage room and they'll crack eventually. I know their hero costume SUCKS but honestly something about it reminds me of how trans tape works.

- Transfem Bakugo Masaru. They get about five seconds of screentime, if that, but in those five seconds they gave egg vibes so strong I can still sense them now. There could be a fun AU where both Katsuki and Masaru are transfem; it could play out very interestingly. You could also have interesting character work with the nickname 'Kacchan' ('chan' being typically feminine) and repression/Katsuki lashing out at any hint of their own femininity.

- I would LOVE a transmasc Mic since there are a few interesting masculinity-adjacent things going on with his character, but he's possibly too repressed to ever work out that he's trans, so you'd have to make it fit with canon Somehow. You could actually argue transfem Mic for the same reasons, but it's not my personal preference with him.

- Genderfluid (or transmasc) Toga. Something something wanting to "become" someone else who performs gender differently to you... that, or I could even see a genderfluid transfem Toga, with her schoolgirl fit being an attempt at reclamation of the girlhood she never got to have.

- Aizawa is either a cis man who is very firm and unwavering in his masculinity or pre-realisation but very much Not Cis. That, or he's a trans man who was actually held as a child.

- unpopular opinion, but I don't feel like Kirishima is trans? He COULD be, and I understand the logic behind a transmasculine Kirishima, but honestly I've seen cis boys overcorrect like that and I think he's just being pushed as The Trans Man because he fits the obvious stereotype, which is lazy and annoying and it pisses me off.

- Lady Nagant is NOT CIS. Idk what's going on there—I could see transmasc egg, I could see agender/nb, I could see transfem 'this-isn't-the-kind-of-woman-I-wanted-to-become'—but SOMETHING's going on.

I'm aware trans headcanons aren't everyone's cup of tea, and since it's a sensitive area of self-reflection and identity navigation we can all be a bit protective of our own trans headcanons and get uncomfortable when a headcanon contradicts/clashes with something that matters to us. In light of that, I'd just like to state for the record that this is all in the name of introspection and fun; if someone else has thoughts regarding these characters, wether or not they align with mine, feel free to add to the conversation! I also welcome questions. As always, if you don't like it, just don't engage.

[fuckzachariah]

Ale sniffed his drink and screwed her nose, and Zach laughed, head tossed back in earnest. “Yeah, well, I used to only drink directly from liquor bottles, so take the wins when they come. An actual cocktail in an actual glass is leaps and bounds away from my past life.” His eyes sparkled slightly in silent allusion; that past life that wasn’t altogether past. The biggest part of it was standing right next to him, beautiful and inviting and so sexy it ached to even look at her. They gazed out at the crowd together, backs pushed up against the smooth wood of the bar, like a pride of lions to their pack. It was difficult not to feel power-drunk beside her. Nobody else made him feel bolstered like she did. She put him on the top of the world and let it spin and spin and spin.

Through the density of the crowd, the heady fog that blanketed them as they dwindled into their well-deserved stupors, he spied Kylie. She wasn’t looking for him, unconcerned and totally trusting of his whereabouts and indulgences. How far he had climbed. Or, how far he had fallen. It was hard to name it. She was, like Saturn, perfectly ringed by two definitive throngs. One of women, the next of men. It was unbelievable to think how ardently, and for how long, she had pursued him. In her way. She liked to play bold-faced now, but they both remembered how they had started; how quietly and endlessly she had waited for him, how she never wanted to push too far should he topple, or run. But men loved her. It was clear why. Only, she was so concerned with her rich inner world, with the women she decorated and weaved herself with, that they seldom occurred to her as what they were: vying. Zach was all she saw. But now, she had him. Or so she thought. He had become her norm, and she wasn’t worried about all the ways he could be breaking her heart at any given moment. What a shock it would be when he did. When he really did it.

His eyes slid to Alex as she continued her watchfulness, and she burned into his mind, every slip and swell of her body caught in a perfect light. His lip curled privately, wickedly. Ale laughed. He watched her drink, and shook his head; a certain acerbity lingered that he had never changed for her. It was both as true as it wasn’t. He changed because of her. He changed in spite of losing her, because in her wake he was left with no other choice. He changed because she showed him it was possible, convinced him it was worth it. Only, she'd never been there to see it, nor lavish in it. How he could dream of spoiling her now. Spoiling her until her teeth rotted with it, until she hated it. He understood the bitterness. He would hate it too. Zach’s skin prickled, the temptation to needle at her ever-strong. “Mm. She has me because of you. He has you because of me.” In layman's terms, it was the honest truth. “But I don’t know I’d call it tragic when the story isn’t even half over.” His elbow went out, jabbing softly into her side. A ripple went through him.

His eyes danced with the swill of her wrist, the soft lick of chocolate waves up the inside of her glass. “But that’s exactly what I did, Ale,” he mused softly, her name melting like candy on his tongue, something of a laugh tickling the underside of his tone. His eyes lifted under dipped brows to find hers. “And it’ll go number #1 all over the world. Just wait.” His gaze shifted to pass over the sea of bodies before them. How they danced unabashedly, how they melted and twined into one another. She may have taken his drink, but its effects still swarmed urgently in him. “Look at them,” he chuckled darkly, contemplatively. They used to dance like that. Worse. Dirtier. Needier. His forearm, now unoccupied with his glass, fanned out by the elbow in her direction, and he deftly plucked her ring finger apart from the others. Slowly, he fingered the heavy jewel, the implications of it pinched between guitar-scarred pads. The corner of his mouth hooked upward. “You ever dance with him like that?” Still facing the crowd, he smirked, and it was evident in his voice. Almost mocking, everything a joke, and yet nothing at all really was. “Would Andy get nasty like that with you, in front of everybody?”

Alex’s eyes held his until they couldn’t, until she relented; turned those uncertain molten pools upon the soldier line of liquor bottles behind the bar, all those dancing colours reflecting on her face. He twisted gracefully, subtly, to face the bar with her, following her lead in an unconscious dance as the bubble around them sucked gradually inward. When he spoke, she seemed to turn in on herself, face growing harder and stiller until it gave way to something worse. It struck him, the glistening threat of tears. He watched as her throat constricted, fighting to keep them at bay. Zach hadn’t anticipated this response – not the sadness. Or perhaps that wasn’t what it was. Just guilt, confusion. Regret. And with no way to expunge those festering feelings, this was how they had materialized. Diamonds in her eyes. It was likely she had never addressed this before with anyone, ever. His hand flexed on the bar, an instinct to reach out to her flaying at his nerve-endings. But he couldn’t. Not here.

Zach’s tongue flattened in his mouth, and he bit down on its edges, flooded with the desire to squash her regret. Absolve her of her guilt, show her how intensely that shit just didn’t matter anymore. Pin her to a wall and kiss her dumb. Kiss her deep and stupid. They had been one thing; huge, domineering, explosive. Rotten and insidious and essential. They weren’t that anymore. Something else was seeding, spreading roots in their fertile ground. It was new and he couldn’t name it yet, but it was exhilarating. He could feel it – couldn’t she, too? As he fell into silence, she folded to his will and met his eyes. The tears were gone. She had always been something of a warrior. Her velvet voice dipped low and quiet, fingers skimming the rim of her glass as he had earlier. Their constant, incidental mirror-image. She asked a question. It was as though she’d already accepted their sordid fate, but couldn’t find it in herself not to be toward it all. His mouth pressed slowly into a line, swallowing rebuttals as he breathed through his nose.

Then she laughed. And in shock, he laughed too. Before he had even found something amongst it all to laugh about. His brain kicked into gear and caught up, and maybe it was funny. Maybe the humor was within their repeated attempts to deny what was proving to be the prophetic truth. In the end, wouldn’t it always come back to this? The two of them? Alex drank, and Zach scraped his glass across the bar back through its own wet footprint. His head was a little foggy, a buzz warming all through him. Her voice attracted his attention, and he raised his eyes. She fixed him with a smirk, one he couldn't immediately return. He sort-of laughed, feeling very caught in a juvenile way. It threw him. He’d been sneaky about drinking until it felt like everyone had grown too drunk to notice, then he’d forgotten to hide it at all. His bottom lip folded inward, sliding between his teeth as he held onto a roguish smile. “Ah, fuck,” Zach muttered gutturally, breathy, as though he hadn’t spoken in hours. “Who put that there?” he joked quietly, feigning bewilderment. She didn’t chastise him, or force him to explain. If she had, he wouldn't have known what to say. Old habits die screaming. She knew that better than anyone.

Instead, she unfolded her slender hand with an innate confidence and a finger-brush that stirred him into standing a little straighter. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered amusedly, under his breath. A smile toyed on his face as he handed it off happily, quietly delighted with the assuredness in which she commanded him around. He looked at her, then, as though in a new light. Standing like a marble-carved work of art with his glass in her hand, in such a manner as to stake a claim. He felt a wave of determination and ownership and total sacrifice he had never felt for… well, anyone else at all. After a moment, he leaned back against the bar, tension dissipating. “I’d like to argue something,” he posited confidently, the mischief playing in his tone. He paused, letting the sentiment settle, but not long enough for her to interrupt. “I’d like to argue that I think we learned a lot, actually. And I think that’s the point.” His eyes, as they found hers, shone with possibility. He smirked. “I think it’s all brand new and we don’t even fucking know it yet.”

[review-anon]

I was just thinking about a title/epithet you would have in the Afterlife Theater, since Review Anon wouldn’t really make sense in a non-askblog context. So, I hereby dub thee, The Drowned One. That shall be your deific designation in the Afterlife theater

//Ironically enough this would be a title that Review Anon would HATE.

//Especially as she has hydrophobic, and doesn't really like being reminded of her death.

//Maybe she would accept it later on, but this could be why Review Anon's default mood is so gloomy all the time.

[jpegsthatmove]

ACTUALLY, I cannot stop thinking about the object lesson Solas gives Rook about finding alternate ways to remove opponents

Solas: “I made people laugh at him”

Me: aaah, so very smart! The god of lies and trickery using propaganda and misinformation to undermine the credibility and fearsomeness of an adversary! I wonder how he demeaned him in the public eye? What inventive rumors did he spread that eroded his reputation and power?

Solas: I used magic to psychologically torture him into a mental break :)

Me:…

[sysig]

Finally made a Parapluesch OC, introducing Mama Oz ♥ (Patreon)

[mxwhore]

mutuals. i am getting caught in my own bitterness again...

[ratatatastic]

[rabble-dabble]

it took a lot of thinking to settle on knowing if i was a trans guy but what really solidified it to me was being unable to live with the thought of dying as anything but an old man. i can't imagine not having grey facial hair and old faded top surgery scars and maybe grandchildren who call me "grandpa". i just cant live with the thought of my gravestone having "daughter, wife, aunt, niece, grandmother," carved into it along with the name of a stranger. they can't ask me to die as a her. They won't kill me as a her. they wont bury me as a her. Its not fair. They can carve the wrong name into stone and dig up my bones and say "this skeleton makes a woman" but i assure you i'm going to die as a man with the name those close to my heart know me by. and i'm going to live long enough to meet him, the future version of me, because if theyre gonna try to bury me as a woman theyre gonna have to try and kill the man in me to do it. and ill cackle from my casket knowing they had to try to erase me in death because i wouldnt let them do it while i was alive. I wouldnt let them.

[ssaalexblake]

i know there’s the whole starfleet is compromised thing going on but every time Shaw refers to Seven by a name she’s indicated she is not comfortable with I imagine the HR report she’s filling in to be submitted once they’ve sorted this all out. 

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Freaks and Fools

Chapter 15/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 9,634

Summary: While they await the final verdict, passing the hours by until the Hawkins Police decide what will happen to Eddie Munson, a few of them have some fun in his hospital room. A few others hammer out the details with the government operatives. And, eventually, the shoe has to drop...

What's going to happen so they can move on from Spring Break?

More ST Fics

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While most of the party was making their way to the high school, agreed upon gathering around one of the tables outside, one faded yellow pizza van was arriving at the hospital. Argyle got them parked, and Robin was swinging the door open for their two smaller backseat passengers to climb out. El, of course, was someone they already expected to bring. To make sure she didn’t get cornered somewhere alone while the others got things figured out. But Erica was also trailing along. She had promised to check on Max first thing for her brother while he was off with Dustin, telling the rest of Hellfire a good cover story for what was going on.

“Come along, ladies,” Robin grinned at the two as they hopped out onto the parking lot.

The older kids escorted the younger of them to check in and obtain their visitor passes and waved to Officer Nichols. He was posted outside Eddie’s room on a chair in the hallway, flipping through the morning paper while he sipped on a cup of crappy hospital coffee. He returned the gesture with a tip of his cup while Argyle hovered behind Erica, following her into Max’s room while she made her visit. The other two went for the door across the hall as Robin poked her head through first.

She actually had a particular question she’d been asked to extend before El came in with her.

“Heeyyy, Eddie?” she asked as she cracked open the door to the guy’s room, wearing a big, bright smile to hopefully win him over effortlessly.

Eddie looked over from the tv set quietly playing a cartoon. There was a second of confusion when he saw her face - only having expected to see El’s - when he noticed the expression spread across it. She had a suspicious kind of smile that cued him that she had a favor in mind,“ What do you want?”

The thing was that when Robin was getting picked up, the girl had stepped out of the car to say something before she got buckled in. Robin leaned over and El whispered to her something about when she had the sleepover with Max over the summer. That she’d mentioned wishing she could paint her nails. Max might’ve been a rough and tough kind of girl, but she liked feeling pretty and special too. But as active a kid as Max was, it would just chip off in no time. So the girl never really went through the trouble, even though she liked the look of them. And well… Max wasn’t really going to be doing too much right now… so El wanted to paint her nails as a little surprise for when she woke up.

But El had never even painted her own before, so surely it wouldn’t go very well.

So Robin had an idea.

She stepped a little further into the room and put her hands together,“ So, El needs to practice.”

“Practice?” he quoted back to her, his confusion coming back quickly.

“Painting nails.” Robin clarified,” She wants to paint Max’s. I offered to do it for her, but she really wants to do it herself.”

“And, what does that have to do with me?”

Robin hummed her words and came in just a little closer,“ Well, you don’t really need your hands, you know? Can’t even move them very far at the moment, so…”

“No.” he stopped her quickly.

“Come on! You’re not busy right now!” she argued.

With a wave of his hands, as far as they could while he was under the charges and restrained, he threw back,“ Offer her yours!”

“Mine are already painted! Obviously!” she told him, flashing her maroon-tipped fingers at him with a stern face.

And then Eddie was silent.

Considering.

Could he really say no? Even if it was being said to Robin’s face, it was really being said to El. And the girl did save his life. And she was kind of his favorite. And he liked Little Red. And he felt pretty bad for both of them…

“Fine.” He gritted out through clenched teeth,” But I’ll only accept black polish. Nothing frilly, or you’ll mess up my vibe.”

“I assumed that would be your preference.” Robin smiled to herself, pulling a bottle of black nail polish out of her back pocket that she nabbed when she came up with the idea,“ El! Come on, he’s in!”

The girl timidly joined them, her own hands tucked into the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she came forward to Eddie’s bedside.

He splayed his hand out for her and dropped his voice to sing a line,” I want it painted blaaack~”

He was hoping for a smile. Or a laugh. Or just, something to let him know he was funny and making the situation entertaining. But she just looked at him with a blank expression. And then her eyes drifted up at Robin, who was pulling up another chair, like she was asking for help with the comment.

“Come on. The Rolling Stones,” he explained, because maybe she didn’t know their whole discography, but she had to at least know the name.

But nothing. She just looked back at him, not even a glint of recognition behind her eyes.

“Okay, seriously? The Rolling Stones? You don’t know The Rolling Stones? They aren’t my favorite or anything, but geez- have you been living under a rock, girlie? They’ve been makin’ music for like twenty years.”

Robin chastised him with a gentle smack to his shoulder for expecting the kid, who had never been outside of a lab until three years before, to know about any musical artists except for her favorites. The two girls were getting sat down side-by-side on Eddie’s right hand when Arygle and Erica came into the room. They made themselves at home in the other chairs on Eddie’s left side and watched what was playing, which turned out to be an episode of Scooby Doo, Where Are You!

It was slow work of the pair on his hand. Robin was showing El a comfortable way to hold it and get a good angle for the brush. Showing her how to wipe off the excess polish in the rim of the bottle, and how to start in the middle before working her way back and pulling it along the sides to make it clean and easy to keep on the nail.

“Doesn’t get very messy if you don’t stress and take your time. ’Course, if you do get outside the lines a bit, not a big deal.” She added and exemplified with his pointer finger, letting the brush barely slip over the side,” I just take my thumb and gently scrape the little bit off of the skin with my nail to fix up the edges, like this-”

“Ow!” Eddie complained and shot Robin a glare.

She ignored the dramatics to whisper to El,” It doesn’t really hurt-”

“Yes, it does,” he insisted,” You just dug your nail into my- my-” he struggled for the word.

“Your cuticle?” Robin finished for him.

“Yeah! And it’s pointy, Robin!”

She rolled her eyes at him,“ It doesn’t hurt, El. Boys are just wimps. Max’ll be way tougher than this patient. When you do hers, she won’t even feel it-”

Robin had said it quickly. Absentmindedly. For a second, forgetting that Max was in a coma and couldn’t feel anything at all. And El didn’t look like the words hit her too badly, but Robin started sputtering anyway.

“I mean, even if she was awake, she wouldn’t… Like, we all know Max is a tough cookie in her own right, and she’d be fine. And she will be fine! And girls really do handle things better! The whole ‘beauty is pain’ thing and- Boys really complain about this sorta stuff way more and…” she fizzled out of her defense and added one last note,” It really doesn’t hurt. Promise.”

El simply nodded back.

“Says you.” Eddie grumbled to himself,“ How many slumber parties you been to where they train you mini-torturers anyway?”

Robin shrugged and focused on holding his middle finger for El to try painting on,“ Oh, none. I just sometimes make Steve try colors out with me when I can’t pick one. But he’s antsy and always picks it off within the hour, so… I get lots of practice.”

“You’re lying,” he dismissed the idea quickly.

She just quirked an eyebrow at him with a quiet “Am I?” that left him wondering.

Before Eddie could consider her words much further, Argyle was leaning over to Erica and asking who she thought the bad guy was for this particular episode. Now, of course, he’d already seen it and remembered who was hiding under the mask. So did Robin and Eddie. But Erica thumbed at her chin and hummed while recounting some of the plot.

“Weighing the variables," she’d said.

And the conversation moved on. Robin passed Eddie’s hands into El’s so she could continue, and the room was alight with the discussion of a far simpler mystery than the one they had waiting for them in the real world. And El was shy about it for a bit. She hesitated to take his hand, and she was stiff and extra careful with it when she held it. Like his hands were delicate and fragile. But after a few minutes rolled by, she was sufficiently focused on her paint job, instead of the fact that the hand was connected to someone. She started to relax around them. Letting their conversation pass over her while she soaked it up. Listening, but not worried about answering herself.

It was comfortable and easy.

The rest of the crew was less so at comfort or at ease.

The folks who were sent off to the meeting had all gathered around a cement table with the slow traffic of townspeople around them. Some of them go inside. Some of them leave. Some of them were just milling about like they didn’t know what to do.

Nobody really knew what to do. This sort of tragedy wasn’t something Hawkins had ever been faced with. And even the people who knew what was really going on didn’t know exactly what to do.

They had the barebones of a game plan. The idea was to get some tapes set up so they had a shield or buffer between them and Vecna when they rode into battle. And the understanding that they needed to find a way to take to that fight as soon as possible, preferably before Vecna got himself fully pulled back together. But there wasn’t anything solid. Nothing to really stand on except shifting quicksand.

Which was a maddening reality.

Nancy was mad, in case no one noticed.

She kept finding herself mad, what felt like all the time.

It felt like she just had this hair trigger, and so many things set it off.

And now she was meeting with a woman who kept pissing her off. So surely she was going to get even madder within the next few minutes. But she was meeting up with her with Jonathan, Steve, Joyce, and Hopper by her side. And - if the way he kept his arms crossed and his expression sour after Nancy pointed out that they handed El back to Dr. Brenner was any hint - Hop would be right there with her on being pissed off. They also had Will and Mike. They tried to leave them behind, but they both insisted on coming with them.

They hadn’t been there waiting very long. Maybe ten or so minutes. Sitting silently together. Because they didn’t really have much to say to each other. Next to her, though, Mike sat with a bouncing knee.

Then, just as Nancy was thinking she would need to snap at her brother for being incapable of sitting still- three agents strolled up.

They were all dressed in uniformity: dark, neutral suits and trench coats, hats and sunglasses, glossy, black dress shoes, and the exact same silver watches on each of their wrists. They were headed by the same woman Nancy kept butting heads with. She walked in the middle while two men were just shortly behind. And she was the only one with a briefcase tight in her fixed grip. The other two didn’t have one, but when the wind whipped and their coats opened, she could catch sight of the holsters on their hips.

“This isn’t all of you,” the man on the left said in place of a greeting. He was a tall and lanky guy. Bushy eyebrows and slicked, jet-black hair that just barely poked out of his fedora.

“No. It’s not.” Hopper answered, though clearly not giving up the information the man wanted him to. Silently challenging the guy to push it. See how tough he really thought he was. Hop took a step forward and told him,” But it’s everyone you’re going to get. So, let’s talk.”

“Let’s.”

The woman cut between them, seeming to try and soften the tension, though Nancy felt like she did the opposite every time she’d seen her,“ Why don’t we start with what happened to you? It’s been months since you were presumed dead-”

“Eight months,” the guy on the right clarified. Shorter than the other. With a mop of dirty blonde on his head and a speckling of freckles across his cheeks.

Hop just shrugged and blew between his lips casually,“ Not much. Blew up the mall gate. Wasn’t enough to kill me. Russians came back. Found me. Smuggled me out. Threw me in a cell. Sat in prison til we snuck our way back over.”

“You say that like it’s simple-” the woman started.

“It’s the simplest part of this mess because it’s over and dealt with.” He declared,” So let’s skip to the next part: the bullshit happening right here, right now.”

And she didn’t really seem to like that answer. Probably something about paperwork and files that would be left blank or vague about his unaccounted-for time. But the blonde didn’t hold any argument.

“So, what do you know?” he asked, content with moving right along to the current shit show.

“We know there’s a problem in fair Verona. A disagreement.” Will spoke up. Having just covered the play in Lenora, the legendary dueling families were fresh on his mind. And the need to know if these people were friends or foes to his sister was one of the most urgent concerns he'd been thinking over time and time again.

And then, as if Mike was right there in his head, he continued the comparison,“ A disagreement about what to do with El. So, are you Montagues or Capulets?”

The woman rolled her eyes, and with an exasperated tone said,“ We’re in this with Dr. Owens. We know the girl didn’t cause all of this-”

“But we don’t know what did.” The blonde stepped forward to insist,” Care to enlighten us with what you’ve found out while you were running around?”

Nancy shifted in her seat,“ How much do you know about Dr. Brenner’s original experiment?”

“His data’s on a need-to-know basis,” he returned.

“So nothing? Or just about?” Nancy guessed. Enjoying just a little bit of how it felt to know more than them about the atrocities of their department’s precious scientist.

“The point?” the black-haired one pushed.

“Well - since it’s all ‘need-to-know’ at this point anyway - the first child he snatched for his superpowered kids game was Henry Creel. I assume you’ve at least looked into what happened at the Creel house a few decades ago considering the similarity in the recent murders?”

The woman gritted her teeth,“ Yes, we have-”

“Good.” Nancy steamrolled on through,” After those, the doctor got custody of him. Made him subject number one of his great experiment. Used him as the blueprint to try and replicate his… condition, in others. But, if the dead and tortured family was any indication, he wasn’t very stable. For some reason, or other, the doctor removed him from the experiment and kept him in the lab to keep an eye on him. Gave him an implant that suppressed his abilities. Henry didn’t like that. So when he got the implant out and had the opportunity to use them again, he killed over a dozen of the newer models and just about every member of staff at the lab.”

“El,” Mike jumped in,” was the one who stopped him from getting out by getting rid of him. She was stronger. Trapped him in the Upside Down all on her own. Practically by accident. On instinct. So he couldn’t hurt more people.”

“Sounds like a happy ending. Just one problem: what’s he been doing causing death and destruction over the course of these last two weeks then?” the taller man asked.

“It’s not been just these past two weeks. Every time we’ve had… an ‘event’ it’s been him trying to get back. Get back here.” Joyce informed.

Hop summarized the timeline,“ Three years ago, Dr. Brenner was pushing her, and she made contact in the Upside Down. Once Henry found out there that there must be a way to reopen that connection, he was. He’s been trying to claw a way back here and finish business. Which we’re all pretty keen on not letting him do.”

“Why- What does he want to do that we can’t let happen? If he’s just trying to come back, why doesn’t El just open the door and let him through so all the other things stop mixing in?” the woman asked, rubbing her temples.

“He wants to destroy everything,” Nancy answered. Cold. Remembering what he showed her. His promise for what he’d do.

The air of the conversation shifted. The three of them were finally starting to understand the stakes at play this time.

“It wasn’t just about hurting the people in the lab that made him a prisoner. He wants to get rid of all of it.” Jonathan explained a little further.

“What would he even gain from that?”

Nancy took back over,“ He thinks humanity is a failure. A calamity with faults so deeply ingrained in us that the only choice is to start creation, civilization, all over again. In his image of what’s right and natural, of course.”

“And- where do we stand with this? With keeping this from happening?”

“He needed to take four lives to open the gate and get back onto this side. We met him in the Upside Down while he was staking out Max and lit his ass up.” Steve answered with a slight nudge to Nancy’s shoulder for being the one to fire the buckshot right into his ugly mug.

“But it wasn’t enough.” She admitted,” Max died. And he disappeared when the gate opened, but El kept her from staying dead, so the gate snapped shut again. We don’t know what happened after that. He could be in some kind of limbo between dimensions, or hiding out somewhere here, or still on the other side. We just don’t know. Will can’t feel him.”

The blonde looked at the boy,“ You can’t?”

Will shook his head,“ Not like the last times he’s come back. He’s not totally there, sparking things up again. But he’s not gone. He’s still there, just… small, and- and it’s like he’s curled up in some corner. Putting himself back together.”

“And what happens when he’s got himself straightened out?” the other man asked, unkept eyebrows raised.

Nancy let out a remorseful huff,“ Best guess is he tries to brute force the gate back open with Max’s half-death. Or he’ll try to reach back over and finish the job. Maybe even go after someone new if he has to, but he doesn't like losing, so surely he wants to get at Max.”

“Which we won’t let happen.” Steve needed to say.

The agents looked… off-kilter. Like they’d been rocked off of their foundation for the first time. The first real surprise. They were used to dealing with weird things. Unusual, inexplicable things. Dangerous things. But this was a whole new ball game, and there were finally getting a lay of just how messed up the land was this time.

“And what of the NINA Project?” the woman steered the conversation, wanting to finish fleshing out where they all stood within the organization.

“We didn’t stick around long. But what we did see was a lot of bodies, a lot of fire, a helicopter fell out of the sky… and Dr. Brenner can’t hurt El anymore.” Jonathan filled in.

“Dr. Owens?”

“Didn’t see him.” Will said,” We’ve been telling El to take it easy after the fight and trying to find One again, so she hasn’t tried to find him yet, but she doesn’t know what happened. Didn’t see him after Brenner drugged her.”

“But the girl, the project itself, it was successful…?”

Mike confirmed,“ Her powers are back. Stronger than they were when they went away. But that doesn’t mean that this will just get taken care of with a snap of her fingers when we find him. She threw everything she had at him-”

Nancy threw in,“ While the rest of us were risking our lives doing the same-”

“-And all that didn’t finish him off. Somehow, he’s still kicking. And he’s going to keep trying to get back over here if we can’t take the fight to him and end it for real.”

The three agents were silent for a minute. Processing, if the locals had to guess. Trying to figure out what it all meant and what options they had. They all looked deflated by the time the woman spoke up.

“What’s the plan?”

“Wow, you don’t have one for us? Shocker.” Nancy cut out.

“We-”

“It’s so surprising that you are, yet again, useless.”

Joyce put her hand over Nancy’s to try and soothe her,” We’ll figure it out.”

The woman sounded humbled, quieter, when she next asked,“ What can we do?”

And maybe that was it.

Maybe that’s what Nancy has been waiting to see. To see them accept it, just accept that they messed up. Accept that they didn’t have all the answers. That they were wrong. They didn’t say it outright. That was probably lesson one when they joined the supernatural clean-up crew: Not admitting culpability.

But that silence. And the question that followed.

It did something. Took some pressure off the hair-trigger of Nancy’s rage. Because it meant she’d been justified before. She was right and now they knew it.

She took a breath and calmly asked,“ Can you bankroll a trip to the RadioShack and wherever else we go to for supplies?”

And the woman nodded,“ We can do that."

“And Eddie and Max’s hospital bills,” Mike added.

“And when two more come to town, we need to get their citizenship worked out.” Joyce considered the Antonov’s.

“And find a way to make sure the California Stowaways don’t have any problems trying to graduate after this mess.” Jonathan thought for himself and Argyle.

“And, if you hear anything from Dr. Sam, you let us know. You let us know if you hear anything about unexplainable earthquakes, demo-murders, or general Upside Down related business. The minute you know. So we all stay on the same page.” Nancy spoke.

“And whatever Max wants when she wakes up, she gets. Period.” Steve added.

Jim pointed out,“ And guns. We’d like more guns.”

Nancy quickly agreed,“ I second the vote for guns.”

Which brought a smile to Hop’s face. That girl was something all her own.

“We’ll start working on things.” The man on the right said after he was done jotting things down in a notepad.

The three agents nodded a silent agreement and were about to walk away when the sight sparked something for Nancy.

“This is it?”

“What?” the woman asked her.

“This. The three of you. This is all of you that’s left. Isn’t it?”

The teens and two parents looked at her and then between the agents when they didn’t have a thing to say for themselves.

Jonathan questioned it next,“ Is she right?”

“We-” the leftie was about to lie when the woman cut him off for the simple truth.

“There are two others still working on contacting any of the team that might’ve made it out of the NINA Project. But besides that, this is all. We’re it.”

“You used to be dozens with a fleet of vans…” Mike wondered in shock, remembering the insurmountable difficulty they’d been to dodge three years before.

“The Capulets have made times difficult for the Montagues. We got stretched thin, and most of us that were trustworthy enough to stay on the force on Owen’s side went to work at the bunker in Nevada. The rest of us came out here when things started looking hairy. Which… isn’t a comforting reality, I’m sure. But, if you focus on fine-tuning that wishlist so we can be done with Fair Verona as a whole, maybe we still have a chance at getting out of this play better than the lovers did.”

Nobody really knew what to say. But the woman stepped forward and spoke directly to Nancy for her last lines.

“We’ll keep you updated with what we know, and you do the same. We haven’t gotten along well, up until this point. But we all want this to be over. And we all want to suffer as little damage as possible. We don’t have to be adversaries in getting across the finish line.”

Nancy met her gaze. And for the first time, she wasn’t so furious at the green staring down at her.

“Agreed.”

And then they were gone. Packed into black cars and driving off to “deal with business.”

And Nancy found herself left with… a vacancy where her anger had sat. She still had plenty to be mad about, but the focus of it that she had temporarily shifted onto the government suits was now gone. And she was left dissatisfied. And the hollow feeling wasn’t enough. It didn’t sit in her, filling her up and taking up her attention, like the anger did. And then she had to wonder if she might’ve made the whole mess worse than it needed to be. At least a little bit.

They were wrong for being in Hawkins and not saying anything, yes.

They were wrong for letting El suffer Dr. Brenner’s experiments again, yes.

They were wrong for taking down to her before, yes.

But she turned them into a big, evil monster in her head that they simply weren’t. They weren’t the monster they had to defeat at the end of the day. But maybe she’d decided they were because they got in her way enough and were something she could fight against while Vecna remained a big question mark in her notebook.

So maybe she’d been unnecessarily mean, fostered animosity between them because it felt better to have a reason. It felt better to have something to be mad at and yell in the face of.

Maybe she should be worried that it felt better to be mad at people who didn’t completely deserve it than to not have anything to do with herself.

“Welp,” Hopper clapped his hands on his legs and stood up, interrupting her train of thought,” I have a Chief of Police to soften up.”

“Bribery?” Joyce asked him, just a hint of judgment in her tone. Not much, though.

“If it works.”

After a little while, El had moved on to Eddie’s other hand. She was far more comfortable with holding it and painting along his short nails as she was reaching the end of her work. There was some discussion happening around her. Not one that she’d been paying much attention to for the last few minutes. She had followed along earlier. But over the last little bit of time, she’s had a question buzzing around her mind she really wanted to ask that was distracting her.

“Eddie?” she spoke quietly, not wanting to stop the room’s talk even if she was stealing his attention for a minute.

He looked away from Argyle’s lackadaisical questions about life growing up in rural Indiana he’d been posing for everyone over the last twenty minutes. She hadn’t looked at him when she spoke, kept her eyes fixed on the pinky finger in her hold as she started its first coat.

“Yeah, angel?”

She hesitated, swallowing to steel herself before she just tried to push it out,“ Dustin said… he said they call you ‘freak’ too?”

And maybe the words themselves would’ve sounded like a statement. But from her, they were certainly a question. And they sounded like just the tip of an iceberg. Because she said “too.” And she said it softly and ashamed.

Someone made her feel that way.

“Does someone call you that?” he asked, voice gentle as he could make it. The other three in the room pretended like they couldn’t hear them, instead trying to paint a picture for the Californian of the divisive political nightmare that was the Starcourt mall when it was built the summer before.

El didn’t answer though. Just kept her gaze on sweeping the black polish down his nail. Lips tight together with a slight, barely perceptible tremor that said all too much.

With a sigh, Eddie pulled on the part of his character that he thought might help.

“Well, for the record,” he started, bringing himself all high and mighty against her sullen expression,” over here they call me ‘The Freak.’ So, like, the freakiest freak of them all, you know. I get it. I am a freak. I’m weird and off and certifiably freaky, and I like it. But, you little lady? You ain’t no freak. You’re super normal.”

She giggled at the idea. Couldn’t help herself. Eddie must’ve had her figured all wrong to say something like that.

“What?” He wondered, playfully dropping his head to the side to look at her,” People never tell the kiddo with magic powers she’s normal?”

She cast her eyes up at him as if to ask “What do you think?” before quickly putting them back on their task.

He shrugged it off,“ I mean, sure, the magic power part is, admittedly, a little off the baseline. I won’t lie. And the haircut. But I’d say that makes you way cooler than everyone else. I was rocking the tight buzz myself once upon a time, and not everyone can make it work like the two of us do. But besides those two very small factors, you seem like just any other little girl to me. Way more normal than miss Erica over there. First time I met her, she was already lecturing me about venomous knives-”

“It was one poisoned kukri,” she corrected, unable to keep the comment to herself.

He lowered his voice and leaned in,“ See what I mean? But you? Nah, you’re just fine.”

She finally looked up and held his eyes,“ Fine?”

And he smiled back at her, as bright and assured as he could manage,“ Yeah. Just fine. And even if you were a freak like me, you’d still be fine. I’d accept you into my beloved kingdom and show you that being a freak isn’t bad. It’s actually a whole lot of fun. I know we’re still new to each other, but will you trust me on that much? As a freak speaking from experience on it?”

And she looked kind of like a weight had been lifted off of her. One she’s carried for so long with no idea how to understand. No idea how to get rid of or come to terms with.

But somehow, being told she was normal, even when it still didn’t quite fit… it felt better than all the times Mike called her his superhero.

She was different. No amount of “but it’s special” ever got rid of the feeling that there was something wrong with her. And for so long, she would’ve given anything not to be the way she was. And yet, here this guy was. This near stranger that told her he didn’t find her all that weird. That he didn’t find it impossible to look past the things the lab did to her.

It felt nice. To try and believe him for a minute. To pretend like “normal” would be an option after they shut the door on the Upside Down for good.

And maybe one day she’ll be able to believe she doesn’t need it anyway. Decide that normal was fine and all, but she can also be a freak and still be just as fine because she chose to enjoy it. Eddie seemed happy enough in it. Even handcuffed to a hospital bed and having just escaped death, he was still loving being a freak.

“Yeah,” she decided. She’d trust his advice. Why not? It felt way better than the alternative.

“Good,” he remarked before splaying his hand to view for himself,” And thank you for my bitchin’ claws, kid. I’m sure Little Red’s set’ll look great too.”

“Thanks…” she smiled a little wider, capping the black polish and setting it down on the table by the bright orange they’d brought for Max’s.

“Of course. Surprise, surprise, she’s good at more than just saving lives. Though I doubt I’ll ever really get over the fact that you saved mine, you know. You would not believe the hell I’d have tried to raise if I died before I got to see Ozzy live.”

“Ozzy?” she asked, tilting her head with the inquisition.

And if he weren’t laid up and chained in place, Eddie would’ve tried to fling himself to the floor with a gasp.

“Another person who doesn’t know about the one and only Ozzy? God- you people are killing me here!” he groaned and writhed in his bed for effect, pulling another giggle out of the girl at his side while the rest of the room playfully rolled their eyes at his antics.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show.” Police Chief Powell said as Jim pushed in what used to be his door.

At least, it had been until he went and got himself abducted, of course. Now it was Calvin’s. And he sat behind the desk wearing a face that Hopper probably guessed he’s worn before. Long nights, early mornings, shit getting kicked up faster than a town as small as theirs had any right to. He remembers being in that spot and feeling just as exhausted as Calvin looked.

He strode in with the confidence that said that office was still his in some way,” Said I would.”

“Yeah, but you always hated mornings at the station. Came in late as often as you could.” Powell pointed out.

Jim smiled and shook his head,“ You got me there. But I’m here, with coffee, as promised.”

He passed over the cheap paper cup. Took his seat in the chair opposite him while the man popped off the lid and shook out a few packets of sugar, definitely stolen from the break room and squirreled away in his desk drawer.

“Still got a sweet tooth?” he teased and sipped on his own cup, black and bitter.

The man raised an eyebrow at him while he stirred it around,“ You weren’t gone that long, you know.”

Jim had to give it to him,” Guess not. Not long enough for you to grow out of it, at least.”

They drank from their cups in a familiar, comfortable silence while Jim looked around the room. It was mostly the same. He’d never decorated much, so there wasn’t much to be taken down or changed. Same knots in all the wood grain. Same dents and scratches in the walls. Same scraps under the chair legs. New name on the nameplate, though. New man in the chair. New computer set up in front of him, big and clunky and off-white. Jesus Christ, Jim’s happy he involuntarily gave up the job before they’d made him regularly use one of those things, at least.

But, thinking of chiefly duties…

“Well, Cal, how’s it looking for the kid?” Jim brought up.

He looked at him for a second and asked, waving his cup to him,“ How do you even know Eddie Munson all that well? You’ve been gone for eight months, Jim. And while you were still here, we never busted him for the drugs.”

Jim settled back in the chair further and recounted,“ I told him to quit it a time or two, but didn’t want to make a fuss on his record about it. Never caught him in the act, and only ever with a baggie of pot on him.”

He took another sip and continued,“ But, besides that, I just want to see something done right by him. By this whole mess, I’ve heard about. I can’t explain how I know that what all the kids are saying is the truth. That he’s innocent. But I just do. Would stake my life on it. He didn’t do anything to the girl or those boys.”

Powell almost nodded to the fact, given what they’d been working on uncovering over the last few days,“ Well, we’ve been investigating the case based on their testimonies…”

He let his words trail off, but Hop was impatient for some good news.

“And?”

Powell met his eyes, and with a tone of near-disbelief, he admitted,“ We haven’t found a single shred of evidence to suggest they’re lying about it. Nothing beyond the locations of the murders speaks to Eddie having had anything to do with it. And while the kids could’ve had time to coordinate their stories with each other, the others we’ve interviewed couldn't have. And with the background we’ve dug up on the victims… The claim that this was all a huge mess perpetrated by Jason Carver as he kept digging himself a deeper hole to cover his tracks… it’s the more plausible theory between the two. Way more than the idea that Eddie just went crazy all of a sudden and convinced so many people to cover for him this well.”

“So you’re saying…?”

“We can’t charge a dead man with the crimes. Can’t detain him and interrogate him while we look for more evidence.” Powell pointed out, regretfully,” But we can drop Eddie from the suspect list. Take the cuffs off him, make an announcement, and turn him loose.”

“That’s good news, Cal. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Better than sending him to the clink for something he didn’t do just to satisfy this town’s thirst for blood.”

“Aint that the truth.”

There was almost time for another silence to fall around them. But Calvin had a question to pose before it settled very long.

“So, what’ll you do now that you’re back?”

And it probably should’ve been a scary question. The prospect of the unknown. A whole slew of decisions to make now that his life’s been so completely thrown off-track. He probably should’ve already had some idea of a plan in place for what he’d return to without the walls of a Soviet prison making all the choices for him.

“I have no clue.” he honestly answered instead.

“What? Don’t want to get rehired back here at the station?”

“And do this grunt work?” They shared a hearty chuckle that spoke to all their years of complaining about both having not enough and way too much to do before he explained,” Nah. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I think I’m tired of trying to make this whole damn town my responsibility.”

“You think you already have enough of it with that kid of yours?”

Fondness crept its way into his face,“ Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“How did that even happen? I feel like I had no clue you were even looking to adopt, much less had a kid already when you died and she was moving away with Joyce.”

“That’s a crazy story, Cal. Crazier than the shit that’s gone on here in recent days, I swear. But, uh, she’s mine. And she means everything to me. And I don’t want to do anything except be a good dad for her now. A job just seems like a waste of precious time.”

Powell brought his hands together and wistfully sighed,“ I hear ya…”

“What? Chief ain't treating you right? Wasn’t all it cracked up to be?”

“Don’t you make it sound like I’m whining about it. Wasn’t too much more to deal with until all this shit hit the fan. But this shit has been…”

“Hell on earth?” Jim supplied.

“Exactly. Slept either here or in the cruiser more nights than I did at home. I think the Missus is just about ready to march in here and drag me back into the cold side of the bed I left her with.”

Jim’s eyes snapped to his with more attention,“ Missus? So you and Wendy?”

“Finally tied the knot,” he pulled back his hand to reveal the wedding band on his left ring finger that he’d been twisting.

“Wow, been waiting on you to do it, what, six years now? And you up and decide to commit while I’m gone.”

“I ‘up and decided to commit’ because you were gone. Seeing you here one day and then just - poof - not anymore… Thought about taking up your badge and if the same thing happened to me… I was done wasting time.” Powell detailed the whole affair for the man who missed it,” So I bought the ring and proposed that same month. She spent forever on the phone, planning the whole thing out with her sister. Got married in December. Honeymooned over Christmas and New Year's.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was. And, in a way, I had you to thank.”

Jim shook his head at that,“ Nah, you woulda wisened up one of these days. With or without me.”

“Maybe. But why don’t you tell me when you’re going to wisen up.”

“What does that mean?”

“You think the whole you-and-Joyce thing is subtle?”

They shared another laugh before Jim conceded,” No, I guess it isn’t.”

“You gave her your kid, Jim! That’s nearly grounds for an engagement right there.”

“Don't start talking like that, or I’ll get ideas and scare her off, Cal. We haven’t even had a single date yet.”

He was a little taken aback,“ Didn’t you two…? Back in high school?”

“No. Never.” Hopper corrected him,” We just ran into each other a lot, hung out cutting class sometimes…”

Powell didn’t really look like he believed him, but he let it slide to check him,” But now you’ll get a move on?”

“I guess now I owe it to her to get a move on. Already made her wait eight months for a damn dinner.”

Cal whistled,” Oh yeah, sounds like you best get a move on.”

“How ‘bout you do the same?” He said while he got up,” I’m sure that the kid’d like to know he’s a free man as soon as possible. You promised me you wouldn’t drag your feet on this.”

Powell stood up with him,“ And I’m not. Just waiting for Flo to let me know the machine’s done spitting out the official report. Then I'll be headed out to get started on cleaning things up.”

Before Jim turned to leave, he asked,“ Could I ask you for another favor?”

“What do you want from me now?”

“Nancy Wheeler. She’d been writing up the story on what happened for the school newspaper. She’s the only one with the inside scoop, has both the Munsons talking to her, and the most in-depth coverage of both the during and after of the arrest.”

“That’s good for her.”

“It is.” He agreed,” And if her's got to be the first article announcing that the charges have been dropped, before even the tv crews do, it’d go a long way for her resume down the line."

“I’ll bet it would."

"Especially since she'll have to help spearhead women in investigative journalism in the first place.”

"I never did like the press... But you tell her she can stop by and get a quote. As long as none of the other kids get in the way of it, she can get her story printed before morning news runs with it tomorrow.”

“I will. Thank you. Really. I’m happy to know the seat I left empty got filled by someone fit to sit in it.”

“God, what’d they do to you while you were gone?” Powell rounded the desk to stand next to him,” You’ve gone all sappy and soft in your time off.”

Jim bumped against his shoulder,“ Let’s just call it gettin’ old and leave it at that.”

“And see, I would've bet good money you’d be one of them crotchety things. Screaming from your front porch at everyone who dares pass by.”

“I woulda bet on it too. Now look at me.”

“It’s a good look on you. Enjoy it.”

Then, Flo burst through the doors, thumbing through freshly printed papers and eyeing them through her glasses instead of looking up,“ Your paperwork is all done, Chie- Jim? How are- When did you slip in?”

“Flo,” he greeted simply with a smile to the woman who practically kept that department running by being the biggest pain in his ass the entire time.

She tucked herself against his side in a quick hug, turns out working with someone for about eight years mean they miss you a little bit. Who would have guessed?

She held the papers into her chest and reached out to shove at his shoulder,“ I’m almost scared to ask if this is someone’s stupid idea of an April Fool’s joke.”

“It’s April first?” Jim asked, looking at the calendar on the wall that was fully crossed off but hadn’t been flipped to the new month yet.

“Sure is,” she confirmed while Powell took the hint to change it.

“Thanks for reminding me…” Jim thought of something for a minute,” I’ll be heading off. Was good catching up.”

With Eddie’s hands all painted, Argyle found himself the only one in the room without. He’d held out his hand for Erica and asked if she thought he’d look cute with shimmery pink nails like hers. Which made all of them laugh. But she said it didn’t exactly fit his vibe, so he then turned to all of the girls and was letting them debate what kind of color they’d put him in if they could. There were a few ideas of a mossy green, or a peachy orange, or maybe a daffodil yellow when Hop’s voice cracked through the walkie they’d perched on the windowsill of the hospital room.

“Hey, any rotten kids around?”

Robin leaned over and snatched it off the ledge,” Rotten kids one through five checking in. What’s the word on the construction for gallows in the town square?”

“Just spoke to Cal on how the case is looking,” was all he answered.

Robin took a look around the room with a stilted expression,“ And? What’d he say?”

There was no response.

“Hello? Requesting status on the conflict between Ex-Chief, Jim Hopper, and Current Chief, Calvin Powell?” she joked.

Hop’s voice came back in a low rumble,“ I’m real sorry, kid…”

All at once, Eddie felt his stomach plummet through the tile floor.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They’d been joking around and having fun all morning… he forgot for a minute that things don’t always just turn out. They usually didn’t before he found out the world was ending, but his luck hadn’t been so bad recently. He cheated death and made some new friends, but it seemed the legal system was going to be a fouler beast to defeat.

Shit.

Jim continued,“ They’ve been digging through everything, but it’s just not enough to convince them…”

Robin shook her head as his voice faded out. She looked back up at the accused man and remained defiant,“ Don’t worry, Eddie. We- we can keep trying to figure this out. We’re not going to quit on you and we aren’t going to let them chuck you behind bars for the rest of your life. Okay? Well… We’ll put together a petition! Or gather a protest! Or- We have Nance’s paper she’s gonna publish! We’ll get people on your side and figure something out. We won’t give up on-”

But the radio cut right through her,“ I just can’t get ‘em to put you in prison stripes.”

And everything stopped.

Eddie's heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped breathing, the whole fucking Earth stopped spinning under him.

“Wait-” Robin asked herself before remembering to pull the walkie up to her face and click the button,“ What?”

The next time Hopper’s voice came through, they could hear the grin he was trying to fight back,“ He’s on his way down now to tell you officially, but the Hawkins Police Department is dropping the charges. Congratulations. You buncha deviants did a good job showin’ ‘em all what’s what.”

“Are you kidding?!” Eddie’s voice rang through the room, Robin having clicked down the button in time for Jim to catch most of it.

“What? Nobody’s ever heard of an April Fool’s joke?” he asked.

“Most April Fool’s jokes aren’t supposed to make the victim die of a heart attack!” the man yelled, voice rising in pitch.

“He’s still breathing ain’t he?”

“Oh my god- as if that even makes it okay to tell a guy he’s going to be prosecuted for like a hundred murders-”

“It would’ve been three, maybe four, and an assault at most, Eddie,” Robin tried to remind him, setting down and forgetting the walkie on the table.

“They would’ve sentenced me to like a hundred years, Robin!” he argued back.

“I just told you we would’ve figured it out-”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So, he’ll be fine.” Jim assumably answered the silence he received.

El took the walkie herself to tell him,” Was still a mean joke.”

“You kids need to lighten up. Yeesh. Nobody around here knows how to have any fun anymore.”

Eddie’s room filled up after that. Nancy, Steve, Mike, and Will arrive shortly after, just barely beating Chief Powell. He went over all the news with Eddie and the officer there. They undo his cuffs and explain that he won’t even have a misdemeanor for the drug distribution he admitted to at the end of the day. And since Nancy was right there, she got his statement and would get to send out her papers before the news channels ran an official announcement. If he faced any harassment despite it, though, the Hawkins Police department would help him out.

Then the rest of Hellfire showed up. Dustin and Lucas, along with Jeff, Gareth, Bruce, and Josie. Those four were particularly relieved to see him okay after everything. Not having received any update between Jason’s “Where’s Eddie?” interrogation and “Eddie Munson; Prime Suspect” and “Eddie’s in the hospital” they got from the boys that same morning. They were just saying their hellos when a nurse came in and tried to show them out.

“Awe, but we were celebrating,” Dustin complained to her.

She just looked down at him and hummed,“ Well, I’m sure Mr. Munson would prefer that we checked over everything privately. Like getting that catheter removed. Am I correct?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate to erupt with a pointed finger towards the door,“ Everybody, get the fuck out! Now!”

They got him taken care of and returned his things, but kept him in the hospital gown and hooked up to the IV.

They weren’t letting him out just yet. Turned out that when you nearly die of blood loss, the medical community likes to hold on to you. Make sure the wounds start healing over well, and there wouldn't be any deficits before the guy could start strolling about town. Who knew.

They decided to keep him until the end of the week, just to be safe.

In any news, they let his friends back in to annoy him. And, if Max’s mother signed some moving paperwork, she’d get wheeled into his room to share the rest of his stay with her the next morning. Hellfire made plans to camp out with him sometime and hold a one-shot around his bedside. Even roped newly returned Will Byers in agreeing to play, even though he didn’t know the rest of the club and was a little nervous.

When four o’clock hit, his uncle arrived and pulled him out of the bed for a real hug after the room emptied out.

Everyone else scampered off home, save for Robin, Nancy, and Steve.

They went to the school and used Nancy’s key to the newsroom to format her release and get Steve’s story for it. He sat on the light table while Robin threw questions at him. And they argued about how exactly he should word his answers the whole time Nancy typed away at the computer. They were crammed together working on it for a few hours, easily. And then they gathered up by the printer and folded hundreds of copies of the account. Using the school’s dime and credentials to get the news out as quickly as possible with at least a little reliability.

They were filling up milk crates from the cafeteria with stacks of them and loading them up into the Surfer Boy Pizza van when Jonathan and Argyle stopped by. The pair ran them around town and packed them into the newspaper boxes, even though technically they weren’t supposed to. Steve and Robin ran a few of them around the homes of people they knew were in a lot of the local groups and communities and would spread the word the fastest, and to Eddie’s neighbors. Those of them that were still at the trailer park.

Nancy dropped off copies in the mailboxes of some of the businesses for them to see first thing in the morning: the Hawkins’ Post and local news station, particularly. And then she dropped off a bunch of enveloped ones at the post office like they had when they released the tape about Barb less than two years before. To correct the brigade they’d been running with over the last week.

By the time the sun came back up, it should be on a world that believed Eddie was innocent. Or at least could be convinced of it soon.

As they were finishing up their rounds and headed back towards Robin’s house for drop-off, Steve stopped by his mailbox. He’d forgotten to for the last few days, and when they were about to pass it by, he figured he should grab anything while he was thinking about it before he came back later and forgot again.

There was a little bit that built up. Nearly all of it was addressed to his parents. But there was one letter with Steve’s name on it. Sent from the Family Video Headquarters in Glenview, Illinois.

“What…?” he mumbled to himself when he saw it.

“Come on, Steve,” Robin called from the rolled-down window,” Let’s get me home, so my parents don’t try to find new reasons to disapprove of our treasured friendship.”

“Just a second.”

Steve tore open the envelope right there, standing outside by his mailbox with the others tucked under his arm. When he pulled out the papers inside, they certainly held a surprise of a completely different kind. Not the stuff he got surprised with earlier that week. Not supernatural, end of days stuff. Instead, the mail spoke of incredibly mundane, and yet totally shocking stuff.

“Holy shit…”

Robin perked up at his expression while he read the paper“ Steve? What is it?”

He didn’t even look up for the paper when he quietly sputtered,“ I’m the manager…”

“What?” Robin knocked her head to the side and opened the door. Stepping out onto the street and rounding the car to join him.

“I-” he tried to start, then switched gears and looked at her,” Keith skipped town. So did half the staff. It’s just you, me, and Alex left in Hawkins now. Family Video sent the letter to me because I’m older and have the most hours on the schedule. They can’t convince anyone else to move out here to take over the building since Hawkins is so cursed in the public eye. So I- I’m the manager now.”

Her eyes fell to the paper, and she parroted his first thought,“ Holy shit…”

“We’re supposed to re-open on Friday and try to get things back in business.”

After… everything… that was so out of left field.

“April Fools?” Robin tried.

“They sent over the rest of the keys and instructions…“ Steve separated the open letter from the stapled packet behind it and held up the three new keys he had. For the office door, locked filing cabinet, and emergency exit.

“So, not April Fools…” Robin looked at the official paperwork and reminded him,” Steve. You don’t know how to run a store.”

Which, yes, was true. Steve did not know how to run a store. But the thing was that Steve and Robin never did any work truly on their own. So he looked back up at her and emphasized how absolutely tied together they were in it.

“We don’t know how to run a store.” he corrected.

“We don’t know how to run a store.” she agreed.

“We’ll have to figure it out…”

[rosecreates]

The favorite places of the BG3 Unholy Trio are as follows...

Sylve: She grew up in Rivington and after she became a mercenary and managed to earn herself a home in the Lower City, she found herself spending a lot of time in Elfsong Tavern to relax, and it soon became her favorite place.

Raven: The Bazaar of Menzoberranzan, where she often found a place to 'perch' and watch the people go to-and-fro, or spend time window shopping. Prior to being adopted into House Mizzrym she would also scam people, and even though she can't say she enjoyed having to make ends meet through conning, she can't deny it was fun fooling people into believing her.

Nimue: Prior to losing her memory, her favorite place was Bloomridge Park. Her foster parents took her there often, where she often had picnics with them and played with other children. After killing her foster parents when consumed by her dark urge when she was a preteen and covering up the murder out of fear, she was taken in by the Church dedicated to Corellon Larethian that she had often visited with her parents. She constantly visited the park at that point, watching the scenery from afar whilst drowning in her thoughts, if she wasn't praying at the Church for Corellon to purge the urges from her and forgive her for her sins or mourning her parents at the graveyard. After losing her memory and returning to Baldur's Gate in Act 3, she regains several memories when taken to Bloomridge Park and finds herself spending a lot of time there again to reminisce.

[galadrieljones]

It speaks volumes when Lavellan calls Solas a "terrible liar" in the Cobbled Swan. Rook is, of course, confused by this. "He's the god of lies," she says. But Lavellan clarifies, because that's not what she means. She means that he can't tell "lies of the heart." That is why he had to turn her away, because he actually could not deceive her.

Varric, very early in the game, also refers to Solas as "sentimental." He says to Rook, "He could burn the world down, and the thing that would make him cry is a single flower with blackened petals."

There's something very interesting about the elven god of lies and deceit, who unwillingly wears his heart on his sleeve, essentially creating a new version of the world in which all sources of raw, magical *emotion* that, according to him, used to imbue it with so much life and beauty have been compartmentalized from the more brutish, harsh aspects of the physical world. Because he, himself, has had to do this very thing to his own heart. He's "split." A very cool archetype. When he tells the Inquisitor to "harden her heart to a cutting edge" in Inquisition, he is projecting. Solas has built a "veil" within himself, to protect his more stern, militaristic identity as The Dread Wolf from the effusive, soft, and intelligent man that is Solas. It's the only way he can get anything done. Perhaps we should more aptly call him the god of stoicism and compartmentalization.

It's also interesting how well characters like Varric seem to know Solas, because it communicates that Solas did open up to the people of the Inquisition, during which time he "played the role" of quiet, unassuming Fade mage. Perhaps this wasn't a role at all, however, and perhaps this is why he is failing so spectacularly now. Who he really is is just this man who fell in love and made friends and found a home within a community where he did not have to cut off his emotions in order to lead. This was the "breach" in his plans, so to speak. It tore his world apart.

The whole story of Veilguard actually starts because Varric knows he can appeal to Solas's emotions and that this has a high chance of working to some degree. It's important to remember that while Varric didn't change Solas's mind at the ritual site, he was able to keep Solas talking long enough for Rook to sabotage his plans. Solas entertains Varric's pleas, because, sort of as Rook guesses with Lavellan at the Cobbled Swan, in some ways, Solas wants to be stopped. He wants someone to pull the reins on him because he is too prideful to stop himself.

Thinking back to Trespasser, I remember we all sort of knew this right away just in reading his body language. I remember someone making a whole post about it, and how he will not allow her to get too close to him. When she approaches, he takes a very measured step back. And later, as he takes the anchor, a task which requires him to take her hand, we see exactly why this is. He breaks down, calls her his "love," and kisses her. He is so stern and so measured and in "control," but then, all it takes is a single touch from the woman to whom he showed a glimpse of his true heart, his true self, to bring him to his knees.

The Veil as a narrative manifestation for how Solas tends to seal his own raw emotions away from others in order to function as the revolutionary general he had to be for centuries is a very beautiful construct to me.