#gentle blooms

[herbalnature]

Gentle blueberry blossoms cascade against a backdrop of rustic wooden fencing, a serene blend of nature's simplicity and garden charm. It's like a little sneak peek at the sweet bounty that's to come.

[speakofcompersion]

231216 Metamorph Black Rose Fancam

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[guzekna]

THIS.....CREATURE????????

[ilycove]

A pair of arms wraps around your ribs and holds you tight. Xyx buries his head in your collarbones and takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent and your familiarity.

The rain's been coming down for a while, you assume, because his hair is wet and making you laugh softly as it glides up and down your neck. A hand reaches up to mess his hair up and he stops breathing entirely, for a moment at best, like your touch scared him to the core. You frowned at the thought and turned (to the best of your abilities) towards him. "Hi, love. Is everything alright?"

He doesn't reply and that's more of an answer than anything to you.

"Ah," you chuckle a bit and keep note of how his attention is purely focused on breathing in your scent and you wordlessly persuade him off of you, becoming face to face with him. "Rough day?"

Xyx sighs and runs a hand through his hair then proceeds to wipe his hand on his suits blazer. "Sorry, but I'd really rather not talking about it."

"That's alright too." You hum and grab his dryer hand, wiping your thumb over his knuckles and you barely see how his eyes go from mildly annoyed to something soft; relief or maybe a watered down version of joy. "Would... you like to join me in the bathroom?"

He stares at you for a second before processing a response, a voice that's barely there. As quiet as a willow tree and wavering ever so slightly, shaky almost. "Please."

His grip on you is almost bone crushing, like you'll leave him at any given moment, while yours is certain he'll stay. You guide him to the bathroom and close the door as he begins undressing. You help him with the little things, undoing his tie and unbuttoning the ends of his shirt. When he's bare in front of you, you press a kiss in the center on his tattoo and he just shivers.

He watches as you light a candle and make sure the water in the bathtub is a suitable temperature for him, and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion when he sees you only roll up your sleeves. "Are you not joining me?"

"No," You smile at him and gently help place him into the bathtub, kissing his cheeks and brushing hair out of his eyes. "I just wanted to help you relax, that's all."

"Oh."

Xyx sighs in contentment as you cup water into his water and massage shampoo on his scalp, and if you see tears in his eyes you don't comment on it and he doesn't recognize them. His heart beat feels like it's going insane, like he can't breathe properly with it pounding pounding pounding on his ribs. He's certain you can hear it.

Xyx once felt he was falling, someone unable to save like Icarus, and you caught him. He once believed he would never find someone who loved him again, he once believed he would spend the rest of life atoning for sins he does not remember committing and he found you instead. You bless him with your presence and for that, he's forever grateful.

You're humming and it's a song he knows you like, a song he's come to like because of you. He hums along with you and your humming becomes less of a modern tune and more of a hymn of laughter he finds himself addicted to.

You pour conditioner on his scalp and he relishes in the attention your fingers give him again, the sour look that was once previously on your face replaced with a smile.

You wash off the soap on once of your hands and hold one of his, the hand washing his hair becoming increasingly slower as time moved on. You two in the moment just felt timeless.

Xyx squeezes your hand and you squeeze back instantly, in sync. He kisses your knuckles and you kiss his, in sync. He leans over to kiss your head and you do the same, only wiping your mouth off afterwards. "I think I just got soap in my mouth."

He laughs and it's something beautiful and you smile because of him, and vice versa. He's only Xyx when he's with you.

You dry off his hair and brush it out for him, and you guide him to your shared bed and he follows you like a blind mouse. You say him down and kissed him softly, a tender moment that lingered for a second. He pouts and looks at you with doe eyes. "Doll, that was awful, you barely even kissed me. I think you need to try again."

A laughter escapes out of you and your fingers find his face once more that evening, pulling him closer to you. You kiss him again and again, like a broken record and he comes back, again and again. "You're so greedy. That's a deadly sin, you know."

Xyx smiles against your lips, finding the nape of your neck. You half-expected him to be looking at you with something devilish in his eyes, but you found nothing short of an angel sitting in front of you. "I'm well aware," He pulls your hand up to his lips again, kissing each knuckle separately. "And I would spend the rest of my afterlife in Hell if it means I got to be with you for as long as I can breathe."

[soulinkpoetry]

I know what a fierce thunderstorm you can be, yet you pour your water gently over me because you want to see my flowers bloom and not destroyed.

-Soulinkpoetry

When they’re fierce but they choose to be gentle with you.

[bl0omss]

Gentle Reminder

“Tired child and weary soul, you forget sometimes. That though the responsibilities of life may make you feel as if even just moving is too impossible, then my love, just breathe. If breathing is too difficult, then precious one, just blink. If even blinking is too much work, then little one, just stare. It is enough to just be, sometimes.”

-N <3

[daisies-on-a-cup]

see like what will likes/wants is softness, tenderness, and human connection. this is what alana can offer to will and what she wanted to offer will, were it not for the danger of being the only one will perceived being able to give him that stability

on the flip side, what will understands is violence, and through that violence will sees the opportunities for what he wants, which slowly evolves into what he needs. this is what hannibal offers and what he is more than willing to give to will if will would only accept it

[beanmaster-pika]

*shakes my brain until a thought falls out like a nickel* As a nocturnal fae Lilia isn’t fond of sunlight and probably prefers the light of the moon, and his son who’s twisted from Aurora notably has silver hair rather than gold

[euesworld]

"She has the gentle hands of a gardener, tending to the stars in my heart, my heart beats softly.. she smiles and it beats a bit harder. I am a flower in her soft hands, blooming with grace. I sway with the breeze, my heart swelling like the sea.. oh these seas in me that need her everything. I am the flower, she is the gardener.. my heart beats softly, and then it beats harder."

She is so soft and gentle, tending to the roses in my soul - eUë

[untilyouremember]

The Fragrant Flower Blooms With Dignity

Available digitally on kmanga

Available in print

[donclairenf]

[someweirdoreblogger]

Death is often greeted or associated with flowers, incorporating that with Hades' personality makes me flutter, I'm a sucker for floral symbolism and character influence upon their canon world.

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Please, Be Gentle with My Breaks - 1

Chapter 16/? - - - 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: 5,204

Summary: There's a difference between being broken and having a few breaks. But a lot of these kids and been dealt a lot of blows, and not just from physical monsters of the Upside Down. There's stuff hidden just under the surface that they haven't been able to show just yet.

More ST Fics

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“And in a shocking turn of events, there’s a new story coming from southern Indiana to explain the strange occurrences that have been captivating viewers in recent days. With Hawkins’ own Nancy Wheeler running it.”

The news reporter spoke from behind the studio desk. Lifting up a copy of the very newspaper she was referring to as she read,” ‘The Truth to the Hawkins’ Murders: Eddie Munson’s Impossible Innocence.’ This article explains the convoluted web that led the small-town community to believe one of their own was guilty of a crime he was actually only a witness to. Edward Munson, Eddie, a senior at the high school who runs his own club and plays guitar in a local band, was the victim of a city-wide manhunt as the citizens looked to find justice. His crime? Wandering a little off the beaten path - or being sort of strange, by most folks’ standards - argues Nancy Wheeler.”

An image of Nancy, the school picture taken for the yearbook, appeared on the screen.

“The teenager herself is an honors student, the head of the school paper, and considered one of the town’s most promising young minds. She describes her own investigation, during which she questioned the suspect, his guardian, police officers, and even serves herself as one of many alibis accounting for Eddie Munson’s whereabouts while he was in hiding. She even writes a profile on the subject with comments from local figures including teachers and even the returned ex-chief of police, Jim Hopper, who many believed to be dead until today. Wheeler details the testimony she passed on to the police that they went on to verify against physical evidence. And, as of just earlier this morning, that testimony and the findings in the field have been used to officially strike Eddie Munson as a suspect in the crimes. The current Police Chief, Powell, explained the department’s side of things in further detail during their press release this morning, which we’ll run momentarily, but if you’re looking for more background on what exactly happened, per the people themselves, look no further than a local newspaper stand or try the collections bins outside the Hawkins High School to read these students’ own accounts of what has to be one of the worst Spring Breaks anyone’s ever had. Now onto the footage from this morning’s release…”

Following the mention of Nancy’s article, they played the news team’s recording of Powell outside the police station. Many camera crews had gathered and questions were being thrown at him from every direction. By the end of his statement, there was a little more clarity on “what really happened.” At least as far as the general public was allowed to know about.

The good news rang through thousands of homes that morning. There would still be some objections, of course. People would point to him being a known dealer as proof that he was no good. And Chrissy’s parents didn’t like the truth that she’d been looking to buy drugs that Friday night. Jason’s didn’t like the idea that he’d been the volatile one instead of the town freak. Patrick’s parents had been heartbroken to hear he’d gotten swept up in something too fast and turned on when he tried to walk away.

Most of the popular folks and those close to them didn’t want to accept the “slander” against the people in their inner circle.

But at the end of the day, it was just a couple dozen people and their opinions. Legally, Eddie was home free. The cops closed the case. And if anyone wanted to cause him any real trouble on their own… well, they had a Party that regularly kicks interdimensional ass they’d have to get through first. And they’d be hard-pressed to find lawyers to push a case like this one. Safe to say, it wouldn’t be very easy for anyone to harass him or do worse, if they were so inclined. He had people watching his back.

And one of the households that caught the news running that morning had been the Wheeler’s.

Ted was reclined in the living room in front of the TV while Karen whisked around the kitchen getting breakfast laid out. Holly and Amber were giggling back and forth on the couch between whispers and pointed fingers. Holly sat between Nancy’s legs while the older sister braided her long blonde pigtails, with promises made to the guest that she’d be next, of course. Amber’s parents had been downstairs on the phone all morning, still talking to family and insurance, making plans for how they’ll come back from their share of the disaster.

As the reporter referred to her article, Nancy could hardly believe it. Even when she said her name, it still didn't seem real. But then her picture appeared, and Holly turned around in her hands to look up at her sister, matching the face on the screen to the one sitting behind her. Nancy smiled and scrunched up her nose, leaning in close to her face and swiping little butterfly kisses between the tips of their noses as the girl erupted into further fits of laughter. And that felt real. Holly saw it too.

"Did they say 'Nancy Wheeler'?" Karen called from the kitchen, pride painting her voice.

Ted didn’t say anything.

He watched the news, cast his gaze her way, and continued watching. Didn’t say “sorry” for assuming she didn’t know what she was talking about. Ted Wheeler didn’t really do that sort of thing. But he saw it.

"They did! They did!" Holly sang joyfully instead.

And maybe Nancy felt smug as she tied off her hair band and tickled her sides before the girls switched places.

They did. They said her name, said she was right, and people knew about it. Ted knew just like the rest of them, even if he wasn’t going to admit it.

From the days of “Nancy Drew” only being allowed to run lunch orders to having her name recognized by a real news organization… the latter was a way better feeling.

She did that. While not exactly all on her own, she did that with her own two hands. There wasn’t anyone who told her what to do along the way, no one to steal the credit for the story she hunted down. She found the truth, and even if that wasn’t exactly what she could publish, with what she could she helped someone who deserved it.

She’d thank Robin, of course. And also Steve, Hopper, Powell, Jonathan, and Argyle. Vickie too, she supposed. They all helped make it happen.

But before any of that, she wanted to show it off to the person it was all about.

She ate breakfast with their household carefully crowded around the dining room table. After Mike wandered down from his bedroom sporting a messy bedhead and joined them, that is. But afterward, she’d decided that she needed to see the subject of her biggest story yet.

Nancy arrived at the hospital to find Eddie comfortably laid out in his bed, flicking the channels on the tv with an expression of mild boredom on his face. She slipped into the room quietly and threw down the paper onto his chest. Perching herself in the chair next to him before he’d even looked over to see who came in through the door. His eyes fell to the thin stack of paper on his sternum. Setting down the remote and picking them up with a quick look over the title. A grin spread across his face.

He’d caught the news story before he started looking for more entertaining television, and now he had the real thing right in front of him.

“So there it is…” he mused, a finger running under his name in big, bold print.

“There it is.” Nancy echoed, watching the way his eyes ran down it, taking it all in, not yet reading it word-for-word.

“It’s smaller than I thought it would be. It’s such a big deal, thought it’d be like twenty pages long.”

“If I made it that long and no one would read it,” Nancy told him. It was a big story with so many moving parts to overlap just right. It could’ve easily been longer. But even the few pages it took up between the pictures felt like quite a lot.

“I don’t know…” Eddie hummed, flicking the corner of the paper,” Suspect of a triple- quadruple- whatever murder seems like a pretty interesting read. I think you coulda gotten away with padding it out a little. I mean, was there even room to mention my sick, lifesaving guitar skills?”

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, we squeezed in an ad on the back for your little band.” She nodded.

Eddie’s eyes lit up and he quickly flipped the paper over in his hands. Disbelief and shock colored his voice as he started,“ You did not-”

Nancy couldn’t help the teasing chuckle at his disappointed expression when he met the end of the article, no real mention of Corroded Coffin,“ You’re right, I didn’t.”

“Ohhhh…” he dropped the paper onto his lap,” That was a mean, mean trick, Wheeler.”

“I needed the laugh.” She sighed, her eyes catching on his IV before she asked,“ How’re you feeling?”

“Patched up. Not really looking forward to duking it out in the next big battle, but I would like to get back to my leisurely days in the Shire at this point. So, bring on the army. Let’s get ‘er done.”

“Well, we still have prep to do. We’re going to try to do a better job than we did last time.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re still putting one together. I’ve been told Murray is making a mess of Steve’s spare bedroom with papers pinned along every wall trying to sort something out. But before we can do any of that, we need to make sure you’ll have your back covered. Need your favorite song.” She nodded, once more reaching for the notebook tucked in her purse with the rest of the list.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Eddie only barely nodded in turn.

“It does. So, hand it over. We need everyone geared up with headphones to make sure our big bad doesn’t get anyone else like he did…”

A quiet came up between them. Max had just been moved into Eddie’s room that morning before her mom had to go to her job. Eddie told Susan he’d keep an eye on her, along with all the other people who’d probably stop by over and over again until she woke up. Nancy took a peak past him at the girl in her bed. “Make sure he doesn’t get anyone like he did Max” was the sentence that went unfinished.

“Favorite song, huh…”

Nancy bristled and looked back at him, clicking her pen to refocus,“ Yes? What’ll be yours?”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled into his hand,” How does someone pick just one favorite song anyway?”

“Just, whatever seems right for you.” She gave a light wave of her hand.

“But there’s so much that would go into a decision like this, Nancy!” he burst out.

“Okay, Eddie, it doesn’t need to be that big of a deal. You can have a couple different options on the lineup, I’m pretty sure we’re all gonna squeeze as many of our favorites on our own tape as we can. But we do need your best guess to make sure someone can help you if they need to.”

Eddie remembered the fear that hit the seven of them when Nancy just stopped answering. They scrambled and panicked and yelled through his trailer, without any clue what to use to help. Feeling so helpless and terrified. Thinking they were about to lose one of their own, right when they thought they were safe. It was up there with facing down the tornado of demobats as being one of the scariest moments of his life.

He knew it was important to pick one. But knowing it was so serious made it even harder to choose. Because what if he got it wrong?

“But, I mean, do I want to pick one of my favorites that I’ve loved for a long time? Like should I pick something from my childhood- is nostalgia gonna help me in this case? Or one I’m really into right now? And this is going to be my soundtrack for charging into war, so maybe I wanna pick one that has a good vibe for that. Or is it more important that it’s something that’ll bliss me out, rather than rev me up? Or-”

“Eddie-”

“Okay! What about- What songs did everyone else pick? How’s the team mixtape shaping up already?”

It didn’t really make sense. What everyone else was going to listen to didn’t really matter for what he should decide on. The “team mixtape” didn’t need to mesh well together.

Nancy shook her head with the thought, but began to answer him anyway,” Well, your little mini-me said he liked ‘Highway to Hell’ because of the cassette you lent him.”

And as if that was the most important topic of conversation - not finding his own savior song - Eddie’s head cocked to the side slightly.

“He did?”

“Yeah? Is something wrong with that?”

He wondered to himself,“ No, I just… I know he’s still getting into my stuff, but I didn’t really peg him for that one. At least not as, like, a favorite or anything.”

Nancy shrugged and continued,“ Well, Dustin and Lucas made more romantic picks. Stuff that reminds them of their girls, of course.”

“Alright, fair enough for those two lovesick nerds, and what’d you choose, Wheeler?”

His whole face quirked up into a strange expression when she answered. Like even more than he didn’t believe Mike Wheeler really liked the AC/DC track, he didn’t believe Nancy Wheeler really liked ‘Take My Breath Away.’

He eventually asked her to clarify,“ You mean that love song from Top Gun?”

“Yeah. What? I like Tom Cruise.” She gave a joking huff and continued when his face didn’t really settle,” Okay, now what?”

“I don’t know. Guess I was just expecting something else.”

Eddie considered it to himself. Sure, Nancy Wheeler, the one he saw around the halls of the high school, would like a love song aimed at her favorite celebrity crush. But Nancy Wheeler, the one that led a campaign through desolate wastelands and commanded her team to make it back home? Twice? Was it really just a slow, drawn-on love song that made that girl feel… alive? Or fulfilled? Impassioned?

He wasn’t sure he bought it. And maybe he should have, because they’ve barely interacted before he was on the lam. But, in the time he’s spent near her since, in the time he’s had to see her exist in a different way than she usually did… well, he became sure that there was more to her than that.

“Maybe you don’t know your Wheelers as well as you thought.” She hummed,” Well? Have you been inspired?”

Eddie picked back up the newspaper and thumbed at the front page. Under his name was a picture of him. Blown up from the ones they’d taken of all the Hellfire members at the beginning of the school year to advertise the club. It wasn’t the one where he tried to look tough, it wasn’t the one where he tried to look wild, it wasn’t even the one where he’d been smiling so stiffly for five minutes that his cheeks hurt because no one would stay still for a clear shot.

It was the one where he turned to the side, looked at Jeff making a dumb face, and laughed so hard he had to brace himself on Bruce’s shoulder. His whole face was getting red because he couldn’t even breathe.

It was a good one. Genuine laughter and joy instead of the character he often played up. “The Freak” was someone he’d grown to know pretty well since it was given a name. But sometimes it felt like he lost track of the other stuff. Sometimes it felt like he barely knew the real guy printed on that page. What was that guy’s favorite song? He honestly wasn’t sure.

Nancy followed his gaze to the image of his own open mouth smile, eyes scrunched up by his flushed cheeks. And in some strange way, she knew what sort of thing he was feeling. Because maybe she knew how it felt to be so unsure of who was really smiling in all her pictures.

“Well…” she broke the silence that had bloomed between them again,” I guess if you need a little longer to figure it out, we don’t plan to waltz back into the Upside Down tonight or anything. But you can’t procrastinate. Because, if Venca comes back before we’re ready for him, you’re not going on the battlefield without a lifeline.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” he gave her a stiff salute, which she returned with another roll of her eyes.

The two of them ended up chatting a little longer. Nancy had only really planned on stopping by for a bit and then heading off to help the rest of the gang fix up Hop’s cabin, but she found it surprisingly easy to talk to Eddie. They hadn’t really spoken at all before Spring Break, and they hadn’t had any time during to see how well they got along... but turns out, they did.

Plus he did need to know the school’s plans. There were calls rung around town about starting classes back up on Monday. That was news he was a little less eager to hear. Compared to an article trying to repair public opinion of him, returning to the halls of Hawkins High School wasn’t an exciting thought.

He let out a groan and scrubbed his hands down his face,” Shit… I was kinda hoping they’d just call the whole year a wash and let everyone graduate anyway…”

“Come on, it’s just a couple more weeks to push through, and then we’ll all be out of there. Should be way easier than saving the world as an extracurricular.”

“For you, it might be. I’m sure with your stellar grades you could practically check out for finals and still pass just fine.”

“Well, that’s exaggerating a little bit-”

“Whereas, I’m going to have to bust ass between demon fights to even scrape by.” Eddie dramatically slumped back into the bed,” Fuck, man. This next month and a half are gonna be so awful, I’ll actually be able to say it was worse than hell on Earth.”

Nancy looked at him wallowing in his woes for a second before she wondered,“ So why don’t we get through it together?”

Very quickly, Eddie sprang back up a few inches,“ What?”

“Well, I’m still waiting for your answer on what your favorite song is, and it’s always easier to study with someone else there. More fun too. So, surely we can pull each other through finals and safely into graduation.”

“I feel like you’re signing up for the lion’s share of pulling, Wheeler.” Eddie pointed out.

She just raised an eyebrow at him,“ Are you saying no?”

“No! I am not saying no. Nancy Wheeler helping me drag myself through Ms. O’Donnell’s end-of-year essay sounds like way better odds than I was previously rocking with.”

“Oh… you’re stuck in Ms. O’Donnell’s?” Nancy’s voice pitched with pure sympathy. The woman was pretty well known as the one English teacher to avoid getting assigned to if students wanted to pass their classes and have any kind of social life over the last quarter of the year.

“Yup.” Eddie popped the “p” and knocked his head to the side,” I tried to get ‘em to move me into Mr. Fitzpatrick’s instead - you’d think on a third go around they could throw a guy a bone - but the front office still put the witch on my schedule anyway.”

“But you’ll get through it this time,” Nancy assured him. And there was just something about seeing Nancy Wheeler declare such a thing. She seemed so sure about it that he just kind of had to believe her.

But Eddie still shrugged,“ If I don’t, you can just let me bleed out on the battlefield this time. No, siree, I’ve been swearing for years now that I’m going to flip off the principal when I walk across the stage, so Eddie Munson isn’t coming back at all if he can’t shove it to Higgins at the end of all this bullshit.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

It was a little bit morbid. To joke about leaving him for dead the next time considering it was such a close call to get him back at all. But it was funny, and Nancy needed the laugh. Somewhere along the way she ended up saying the "thank you" she’d thought about when she was sure it was over for them. For giving Mike a safer place to be a freak, where he wouldn't get hurt. Eddie laughed and said he didn’t do much. He was just some guy who prowled the halls for the other nerds he could snatch up.

Nancy named it a noble calling.

They both laughed some more.

Nancy ended up at Hop’s Cabin with the rest of the crew to get to work later.

She’d been set with Jonathan to work on covering up the empty windows - they planned to get the glass replaced down the road. The kids were mostly unpacking the house of all its items and broken furniture, throwing it out into the clearing in front. El was organizing the things that survived, and Will swept out the dusty, dirtied floors. Argyle had apparently spent much of the morning wandering around the wooded vicinity and exploring the local foliage. But since then, he’d taken t looking over the scrap pieces and making claims like “Yeah, yeah, I could make something work with this…” Seeming to think he was going to rebuild a whole family’s worth of home decor from the trimmings left behind by the meat monster.

Murray was sitting on a box, tugging at wires and making notes of the setup running through the house. Fussing over the electrical while Hopper worked on getting running water out of more than just the kitchen sink. And by the time Robin and Steve finally rolled around after looking over things at Family Video, most of the working day was done. Excuses of well-worn backs from cleaning up the store and figuring out how to run the place filled the air as they leaned against the wall and watched Joyce and Jim bicker about if the shower pipe was actually rusted stuck or just not being wrenched hard enough.

As the sun began to set around them, folks made their goodbyes and started heading back for home again. The boys had plans to go call the other Hellfire members and visit Eddie and Max the next morning. Erica vowed she’d be there too, but Will and El said they’d help Steve and Robin finish sorting the tapes on the shelves and mailing back the ones corporate was supposed to send a list for. And they'd carry all the supplies they were going to buy at Radio Shack for Murray’s idea of combining radio comms with the cassette players. Dustin also wanted to get in on the action with developing, much to Murray's protest.

When Steve and the rest of his houseguests drove up towards his house, there was already another car in the driveway. Two people stood outside on the concrete, their backs to the street, looking up at the house number over the front door while holding a map out in front of them. They both turned around as soon as they heard the beamer and pizza van begin to roll into their usual parking spots and not merely pass the house on the corner lot by.

The taller of the two had to be in his thirties or forties. Short, dirty blonde hair and a defined mustache over his lips, dressed in loose-fitting jeans, boots, and a peach-colored tee-shirt that said “Grand Canyon, 1986” over his slightly muscular build. The shorter of the two was clearly a teenager. He had a curly mop of lighter blonde and was leaner. Sporting light wash denim shorts and a black long-sleeve top, printed with a stylized landscape of, assumably, the Grand Canyon in shades of terracotta orange and red.

The two of their eyes watched him pull into place before they looked at the car behind him. Hopper rolled down his window and shouted out “THERE YOU TWO ARE!” in joyful greeting. The older man’s lips immediately curled into a smile. Haphazardly closing the map and throwing it into the seat of their car, stepping up to those just arriving.

“Almost thought you’d given us faulty directions, American. No one answered the door.” He’d said, thick Eastern European accent on display as he approached.

Hop climbed out of the van and fired back,“ I have a life now that I’m out from behind bars, don’t you know?”

As the stranger laughed, they closed the distance with a quick hug. The kind where they both smacked a hand on the other’s back before they parted. Kind of like old friends, but more like brothers of war. Which is closer to what they were to each other, in some sort of way.

“I take it you made it over okay?” Hopper asked him, casting a look at the boy standing just behind him.

“Oh, yes, it was a smooth drive from California,” he assured,” No speeding, no policemen. But perhaps we made a stop or two along the way. We are first-timers to the country, after all. Said we should ‘see the sights’ while we had chance to.”

“Didn’t think defeating monsters beyond all conceivable horror was a good enough reason to get here as urgently as possible?” Murray questioned the man with crossed arms and a judgmental tone.

“What? If the monsters ended up no big deal, figured you’d have the problem all cleaned up by time we arrived. Otherwise, you’d still be in trouble, and I help out now. You all look fine as I last saw you, so first option?”

Hop scoffed,” Like it’d be that easy.”

Eventually, they all run through the necessary introductions; Dmitri and Mikhail to Steve, Will, and El. They all helped unpack what was really Joyce’s car that’d been stuffed with more clothes and personal effects for the journey across half the country. Boxes and bags were loaded into the house along with a tour to the second guest bedroom that the father and son would be sharing in the meantime, while Karen’s provided lasagna started getting reheated in the oven.

They ran through updates about what had been figured out over the last few days and gathered around the dining room for dinner.

Maybe about twenty minutes into casual getting-to-know-each-other topics, Steve thought about music.

“Oh, we’ll need to make sure we have songs for you two too. Nancy’ll want to know-” but then a thought occurred to him that he hadn’t really considered before,” Wait… did you guys even have music over there?” Joyce, Jim, and Murray had mentioned all the sorts of stuff their smuggler had at the warehouse - peanut butter being treated like a controlled substance seemed ridiculous - so how much did they have?

Immediately, Dmitri’s expression fell. He set his fork down on the plate and put his hands together. He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke again it seemed like his accent was heavier, more sullen than it had been just a minute before.

“Oh no. In Soviet Union, we have no songs. Only national anthem.” He’d said, English more broken and stunted than Steve had heard from him throughout the evening.

Next to him, Mikhail piped up.

“Only national anthem,” he repeated from his father,” Is only song I ever heard in whole life. They made sure, for propaganda to take. Only fascist tune, otherwise peasant revolt.”

Steve was stunned to hear such a thing,“ Wow… that’s…”

But then Dmitri and Mikhail’s grim faces began to break under the pressure. Smiles bubbled up and broke through the surface as they both started snickering.

“Wait a minute…” Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, little American, that was a joke.” Dmitri admitted as the rest of the table fell into laughter around them,” We had music back there. They only tightened up on such things in recent years. I myself much enjoyed The Beatles. Had many albums back home. Mikhail always said I played them too much-”

“Because you did-” the boy tried to point out.

“And you liked tempting fate, nearly trying to get in trouble. He liked the rebellious things. Always running off or sneaking away to some secret concert in those- those rock revolutionaries' circles. Lucky he never actually got caught at any.”

“I am quick on my feet,” the kid said with a hint of a cocky attitude.

Must’ve performed that stunt enough times that he thought he was invincible, but his dad knew much better than that. Dmitri ruffled his hair and told him not to act like a big man when he was still a child. Mikhail rolled his eyes and shoved his dad’s hand away.

They seemed good. Steve hadn’t admitted the thought to anyone, but he’d been a little worried. Russians in their town again, one that used to be a prison warden… it could’ve been familiar. People talked about that kind of stuff, soldiers being shellshocked and triggered even after they made it home. Even if Steve was safe in his house, surrounded by people he knew wouldn’t just let something happen to him, it could’ve made the memories too fresh again. Brought back nightmares he thought he laid to rest.

But, thankfully, so much between Dmitri and Mikhail was different from the bowels of the Starcourt Mall. He met them outside, basked in the warm sunset glow, wearing touristy clothes and smiling with sincerity. It wasn’t like being trapped, inside cold walls and dim lights, surrounded by uniforms and cruel expressions. Steve wasn’t starving and covered in drying blood. Steve wasn’t alone, or thinking that someone was going to die because of him.

It was very, very different. And that made it all the easier to be in. To laugh and joke, because it didn’t feel the same.

And while they might’ve not been able to find the same artists Mikhail had enjoyed back there, they started making plans to get him some stuff to listen to by musicians they had playing in the States. Maybe Eddie’s tapes would be making all the rounds, or maybe he’d like the kind of songs some other member of The Party held on to. They’d just have to explore.

So Mikhail was assigned the homework of playing through tapes like a wine tasting, and Dmitri was going to help with things around the house and Hopper’s cabin.

[your-supportive-friend]

You don’t fault the flowers for not growing right when you plant the seed, but the May flowers are always worth it - and always on time. It even takes a little rain.

You are a flower, give yourself time to grow. 

[ruicchiii]

listen i know its 3:10 AM rn but i cant get this itchy thought in mt head abt the fact that fuckinn

I DIDNR EXPECT TO LOVE TOASTY THIS MUCH ???? HELLO ?????

i think his route was unironically the one ive been attempting to avoid for months on end lol (first time i played bloomic, i played xyxs and nightys route (BLINDLY!!!) , didnt bother to attempt quests and toastys <//3)

BUT LOOK AT ME NOW

I DID A CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

I ENDED UP MAKING MY THEME BE HEAVILY TOASTER INSPIRED

im NOT OKAY !!!

god why did i put off doing his and quests route their routes made me 🥲 sm its grggrrr