#i don't regret a thing though

[egophiliac]

Do you play genshin impact or honkak a

Star rail?

I don't play Honkai, but I've just started looking into Genshin Impact's story (someone described Neuvillette's character to me and I was like. hmm. HMM.) I haven't gotten far yet -- really JUST started looking at it -- but I'm looking forward to more! :D

(I know almost nothing about these characters yet, I'm probably drawing them SUPER wrong, sorry)

[daily-odile]

Odile patting Molly Epithet Erased on the head, you know why

have two bc i care them

[stardust-moth]

In order to fully understand why it was so hard for Mike to express how deeply he loves El, and why his speech at the end of season 4 was one of the biggest, most important moments for his entire character, we need to look at not just who Mike is as a person, but also everything that has happened since he met her.

Every single time he opens up his heart to her, something horrible happens to her or she's taken away from him almost immediately afterwards.

1x08; he's an awkward little ball of feelings that are way too big for a boy so young. He makes a nervous attempt at confessing and asking her out on a date; when he can't find words that she'll understand, swoops in for a kiss instead. She lights up immediately and smiles. It's a brief moment of hope and pure happiness. Maybe they can have some semblance of a normal life and be normal kids after this is all over.

Minutes later, all hell breaks loose-- they're almost shot, El pushes herself too far until she can barely move, she's almost taken away by the Bad Men, the Demogorgon appears, and she uses the very last of her strength to sacrifice herself to save him and their friends.

He has to watch helplessly as she disappears.

He spends a year caught between believing she's dead and hoping she's still out there somewhere (but if she is alive then why won't she talk to him anymore...?). Kept silent under threat by the lab, he can't confide in anyone or even acknowledge her existence, not with anyone except those involved... but everyone else is keen on moving on and pretending it never happened. He can find some solidarity in Will, at least, who is in a similar kind of emotional turmoil... but it's not the same and it's not enough.

2x9; he is finally reunited with El, and she runs into his arms like she missed him too. She tells him that all those nights he called out to her, she heard him; she was there reciprocating his feelings the whole time.

In a burst of emotions that he's been forced to suppress for an entire year, he lashes out at the reason they've been kept apart (Hopper), screaming and sobbing. It's a massive catharsis for him, and for once an adult is understanding enough to hold him and not punish him for it.

Minutes later, she is going to go headfirst into a pit of monsters, the place where Mike had just firsthand witnessed dozens of people (if not more) get ripped to shreds only hours earlier, and she is going to attempt to close the Gate-- a feat that he knows may take every ounce of her power, just like last time. He cries. He can't lose her again. She promises he won't, and before she can seal that promise with a kiss, they're pulled apart again.

He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

3x1; all seems to be okay now. He and El are happily together, and he feels comfortable enough to be playful, romantic, and intimate with her. It's the most emotionally open we've ever seen Mike thus far.

For reasons he can't understand (bc there's no way Hopper explained himself beyond "I'm in charge so do as I say or else"), Hopper is angry about it and threatens to never allow him to see her again: the one thing he fears most.

He panics big time and fucks it up in the process by lying to her. During a frantic attempt to apologize while also abiding by Hopper's rules, he runs into her at the mall. He panics again-- if anyone finds her here, and knows that he was here too, it's all over, and Hopper surely won't hear reason. El dumps him cold on the spot, spurred on by Max and her rebellious attitude (and without any context of course). He isn't given much opportunity to respond. He knows he's in the wrong for lying to her, so what could he even say...?

He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

It's a hard blow, and he retreats back into himself, unable to get any joy out of playing D&D (which he clearly hasn't lost interest in), back to the deadpan sarcasm and accidentally snapping a little too harshly at anyone whom he feels would take El's place.

3x6; no one seems to understand the danger El is putting herself in. Everyone is berating him for worrying about her safety. He's seen firsthand what these monsters do to people, he's seen firsthand how El pushes her abilities too far. No one is listening.

The words "I love her and I can't lose her again" burst out in his desperation, perhaps before he's even had a chance to realize how deep those feelings run, despite whatever protective walls he's tried to build around his heart to keep it from getting broken again.

Soon after, all hell breaks loose. El is nearly killed several times over, her leg is ripped open, she pushes herself so hard that she breaks herself and loses her powers completely. Her father is taken from her. She's shattered by all of this, and there's absolutely nothing he could do or say to make it better.

She tells him that when he admitted he loves her, she heard him, and indeed she loves him, too... But now she's leaving.

He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

4x1; they've been apart for a few months, and write letters back and forth to each other. El's letters paint a picture of an ideal new life: she and the Byers family are doing well; she's starting school and it's going well; she's made new friends, she likes her new home, everything is going well. She seems to be thriving. She sounds happy, maybe even happier than she had been living in Hawkins. Maybe Max was right, maybe she's better off being her own person without him, and maybe the respectful thing to do is step back... It's a small insecurity that creeps up subconsciously. In his replies he holds back, afraid of clinging too hard.

Though there's little logic in it, he's afraid that if he tells her he loves her again, another disaster might strike and this lovely happy life she's finally found might get taken from her. After all, that's what always seems to happen when he does.

4x2; after months of waiting, they can finally see each other again. He wears her favorite colors, picks a handful of flowers for her, and falls happily back into step with how they used to be. Soon that same day, however, reality becomes clear and the facade crumbles. People he was told were her friends show up to torment and publicly humiliate her. She had been lying. She isn't happy here, she hasn't healed, she is right at the edge of a breaking point that he doesn't see coming at all. He can't believe she would lie to him, she's not the kind of person to lie... especially not about something like bullying, something that she was always so understanding about with him.

On that logicless subconscious level, he wonders if it's all his fault-- he should have known somehow, he should have been there for her. She protected him from his bullies, he should have protected her from hers. He tries to come to her rescue. She runs away from him.

He's helpless to save her, again.

4x3; after a night to process everything that happened-- and deciding that the betrayal he feels from her lying to him is nothing compared to the turmoil she must be going through right now-- Mike approaches her in the gentlest way possible, wanting to listen and trying to understand. El, however, isn't receptive at all to his attempts at reassurance. She is at an all-time low, she's given up. She believes she is unlovable, irredeemable, a monster, just a thing that doesn't even have those superhuman abilities to compensate anymore. Mike can't believe what he's hearing-- doesn't she know that she's always been so much more than her powers? She's always been so much more than what she lacks in quote-unquote "normalcy"... None of those things matter, they have absolutely no bearing on whether she's worthy of being loved, because he loves her, completely regardless of any of these things. He always has...

El starts flinging his restrained words back at him, the products of his insecurity and trauma-induced fear. That fear takes hold yet again, and he stumbles, afraid of saying too much or not enough, because surely both could result in pushing her away-- she's retreating, hearing none of it; nothing he tries to say consoles her.

Moments later, local police come knocking. She's taken away in cuffs, and she's so broken inside that she won't even look at him when he chases the police car down the street and promises he'll get her out somehow...

Once again, he has to watch helplessly as she drives away.

4x8/4x9; after days of driving through the heat and dryness of southwest desert, having narrowly escaped being shot at with military-grade assault rifles, witnessing the death of and burying a man whose last words were that El is in danger... After watching dozens of people get mowed down by a sniper in a helicopter, and watching that same helicopter be smashed into the ground in a ball of flames...

There she is. Just as powerful and beautiful and alive as she's ever been. When he runs to her and embraces her, she looks at him like she can't believe he's real. She's beaming a smile right from her soul and it's like all the insecurity and self-doubt that have plagued them both just vanish from existence now that they're in each other's arms again.

Like always, however, the universe comes crashing down soon after. Max is marked for a gruesome death and all of Hawkins is in danger. They're miles away and helpless, and the only possible way for El to save everyone is if she goes in alone. She's stronger than ever, but so is her foe. Once again, she descends to face all the demons of hell on her own, and Mike can't do anything.

She's losing. She's choking. She's dying. He's helpless.

He must be cursed. He must be. Being with her, loving her, allowing himself to admit he loves her, it always brings only pain and suffering and loss. His heart is so full that it's aching, it's bursting out of his chest, and he can't contain it any longer.

She's going to die and it's going to be all his fault, because he fell in love, and it's cursed her.

Just before it all crumbles into utter despair, the earnest support from his oldest and dearest friend-- one who's always shared and understood his feelings of helplessness-- sparks a light of hope in him: "You're the Heart." You're not helpless. You can save her.

The words that come spilling out of Mike's mouth are truer than any he's ever dared to speak before, and it's the most terrified he's ever been, but he has enough courage for this moment. Despite all of the fears that have been building, stifling, choking him to death for years-- fears that the light of his life will inevitably disappear again, and there's nothing he can do to stop it-- despite it all, he pours out his heart to her.

He loves her. He's always loved her. He loves everything she ever was, is, and could be. He can't imagine a world without her in it. She saved him, in every way a person can be saved. And he needs her to live. He believes in her.

And it works. It's music to her ears.

[wanderer-clarisse]

"Mano po."

Pagmamano (Tagalog) - "honouring-gesture;" a sign of respect towards elders

A continuation of sorts, of this other drawing I made of the Feänorians, which was roughly inspired by Filipino culture. I originally planned on completing this for @nolofinweanweek, specifically the first prompt about how Fingolfin and Feänor's families got along, but life got in the way and I didn't finish it in time. More background/my long rambles under the cut:

Pagmamano - touching the back of an elder's hand on one's forehead - is not restricted to family, but it's usually done in the context of elder family members. I have many memories of attending family reunions and being told to follow the other kids to "mano po" a grandfather, aunt, or uncle. While Elves don't have elderly relatives, per se, I thought this image was too fun not to draw. Also, I love envisioning Feänor as that cool uncle who gives the most amazing gifts but like, the kids are intimidated by him, so they have to be told (and supervised) by their parents to line up and greet him properly. Fingolfin's just standing there making sure his kids all greet their uncle. (Maedhros, presumably having already finished his greetings, is sidetracking Fingon.)

All this to say, I think that these guys didn't have the perfect relationship. But. You can't convince me Finwë didn't get the whole family together from time to time on some sort of family reunion camping trip. And Feänor just has to begrudgingly tolerate it because he can't say no to his dad. While the kids, obviously, have a great time.

[tinystepsforward]

ngl it makes me want to die a little bit that it's so often trans people who feel that sex is mutable but oppression is always-forever based on asab in ways that allow them to demand that information from other trans people. like it feels fucking bad. it feels bad when it's people holding up someone who posts a lot of selfies as transition goals to a degree they have to clarify what they have or haven't done or what "direction" they're going in, it feels worse when people are out there like "caster semenya is not tma" or whatever the fuck. i am, as always, not a trans woman, but here's a sentiment echoed by many of the trans women around me who log the fuck off, quoted directly from one: "people who draw a clear line where they say that semenya or khelif are tme and then call me tma are just calling me male at this point".

like i get it. i really do. we seek community and shared experiences, and we feel betrayed when people have less in common with us than we thought they did. [*more on this later.] but that's not those people's faults and my god in the case i'm seeing play out on twitter rn this poor person did absolutely nothing to intentionally mislead people, just posted pictures of their actual kid self. who looks a lot like i did, because shockingly enough "we can always tell" doesn't fucking work for trans people either!

on the one hand i move in intersex circles which are unapologetically welcoming in cis "dyadic" people with pcos, because it serves nobody to draw a clear line where mutilation or genetics or some ineffable childhood suffering are what make somebody intersex, especially when most of us (esp in places like nz) have never been karyotyped and are being treated for symptoms without a pinned-down cause anyway. the more of us there are the stronger we are, the more pressure we can exert on a medical profession which doesn't like to consider how common outliers are, how uneasy sex is at all. and then on the other hand there's dyadic trans people on the internet who've yelled me out of spaces because a couple of traumatised incarcerated trans women i worked with as a prison abolitionist assumed i was also a trans woman and i didn't immediately tell them my entire csa-involved history of being sexed in varying ways as an infant and child and/or exactly how big my phallus was at birth or where in my junk config my urethra lives so they could decide i was tme or whatever.

returning to the * for a related but not identical thought: i think presuming shared experiences leads to some fucked shit in general! "oh we all had a radfem phase" or "oh we all were channers" no we fucking weren't and it's particularly obnoxious when me & mine are trying to build trans community locally to organise and resist the growing wave of far-right backlash against our existence, and there's just white people in there on a spectrum from "straight up being antisemitic and trying to get the n-word pass" through "handwringing about how they need to make space for people who aren't politically correct" to "handwringing about how brown people are right to be mad at them but doing shit fuckall". and then the other fucking brown people in the space are on some identity politics shit where they're like "trans joy inherently excludes those of us who could get deported" or "big city white queers are killing us by being visible instead of going stealth bc it stirs up the discourse" or whatever the fuck i've heard pulled out this year. there's a bunch of reasons i primarily organise outside of trans spaces and that's one of them. i've never felt more alone in spaces where people claim we're all the same than being left as the brownest moderator or organiser in a space full of people to whom "this is a safe trans space" apparently means they get to abdicate all other responsibilities not to lapse into presumed shared patterns that are fucking racist or otherwise alienating. i've never felt more alone than surrounded by exclusively trans people who sort people into boxes and assume everyone in those boxes has the transition goals they have. like i was on cypro until it disagreed with me to the point of endocrine crisis and now i'm on t and at both those points people were so fucking presumptive or entitled to my reasons or journey or personal relationship w my body

literally just submitted on (and was invited to consult on) the nz law commission's review of the human rights act and like. it's straight up fucked how many nz trans people fully do not comprehend that any "sex assigned at birth" type definitions fundamentally exclude migrants who have no way of proving it and many intersex people who happen to have been reassigned later or many times or never assigned at all as a baby. we can't make law with this shit and that's why we have to have symmetrical protections for all genders/sexes/expressions/presentations, bc naming and defining a protected class here often leaves the people who already are left out from those shared experiences of marginalisation out in the cold when they face violence

[karmaajr]

guys I fucked up..

thought it would be cool for me n my friend to "mark eachother" w my deodorant in the park near school (I had it in my pe kit) and uhhh

mb y'all (im so cooked 💀)

[insertsomthinawesome]

I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Okay so honestly I have been very very inconsistent over the years with just disappearing for periods of time due to various things 😂 So it probably seemed pretty normal to most people.

But it felt different on my side, so I'm excited to be back in business. I took a month long hiatus! 31 days of not drawing digital art. Its not something I talk about on here? But I've been suffering from some serious long term Art Burnout for.... a really really long time. Long enough that I should've taken a break probably years ago. It finally got so bad that I could barely draw. I was scared to do it (cause it always looked "bad" in my eyes [i'll come back to that]) and doing it was exhausting and disheartening.

I talked it over with somebody and realized that the fear and anger and frustration I felt towards my own artwork was uh. Not Normal or Healthy. And I finally committed to taking a real break for once.

I still drew a little bit by hand? Traditional art has always felt like it has lower stakes for me (i don't often share it online, and sometimes I don't even share it with friends) so I did some of that when I felt like it. But Digital art was completely off the table.

I had put such an immense pressure on myself to make my digital art perfect, to make as much of it as quickly as possible to satisfy something. It wasn't fun anymore. I'm proud of what i've made over the years! But for a long time now the stuff I've been making was made while hating every second of making it. With some rare exceptions.

I hated my art! It was a combination of Perfectionism, taking in too many external expectations, and the burnout. If you hate doing something its kinda hard to love it even when you want too lol. It wasn't "Bad" in the sense that the quality was low and it was ugly! It was "Bad" in the sense that it was unhealthy for me to keep doing it at that point in time.

I'm glad to report though, that with my hiatus officially over as of Wednesday last week: I am once again. In Love. With doing art, and being an artist :)

I put off taking a break for years cause I was scared that taking a break would mean that I would never achieve all the things I wanted to do with art. I was scared it was a stupid and lazy thing to do that would mean I'd never achieve my dreams. And Also even though I kinda hated drawing, I also loved making art. Its a weird duality that I can't even really explain??? I hated it but I also loved it. I wanted it but I also wanted to run from it. It wasn't until I was more mature and had more clarity and insight (and unfortunately also until the problems got worse) that I was finally able to let go of those fears and just do it.

And I'm really really glad I did. It was everything I needed. And I hope to strike a better balance in the future with art. Taking more breaks when I need them, or just when other things have my attention like reading or Video games (Some star rail got played during this time xD)

From the outside things probably aren't going to be that different?? At this point I don't really have any sure plans to post anything I've been drawing since my Hiatus ended. I might or I might not xD I'm still a hobbyist artist taking things at her own pace, but I hope that it shows how much happier I am :)

Whumptober 2023 is being officially put to rest by this post btw! I was in major burnout when that event started, and I'm ready to just, move on from all the past expectations I'd shoved on my shoulders. If I feel like filling any of the prompts or going back to any of the ideas I'd come up for it I will! But I'm not going to worry about doing it unless the desire sets in. Thanks to everybody who's been so kind to me throughout my time on here as an artist! Ya'lls tags and screaming and kind words, the fanfic, the asks and the responses? Its been fantastic :) You guys have made me laugh, smile, and cry tears of joy. I hope from here that things only get better and sweeter! And if I have bad days again, that's okay too.

Here's to 2024 and whatever it may bring ya'll :D 🎉🎉✨✨🧡💜

[raiiny-bay]

making something (maybe)

[triglycercule]

sometimes i like to think that horror comes to dust's room late at night just to talk to phantom papyrus. no he doesn't wanna talk to dust. horror probably doesn't even CARE if dust's awake at the asscrack of dawn or rambling off to the hallucination too loudly this late at night because he just wants to talk to phantom papyrus

horror's not delusional enough to believe that phantom paps is actually real and his own papyrus like dust does but sometimes he really wants to,,,, so just for these short moments between them he wants to pretend that the hallucination is his papyrus. that he gets to talk to his own brother before everything went to shit and before he ruined his brother's life. yeah sure phantom paps kinda says some crazy stuff that horror's papyrus never would back then but so what?? dust's papyrus is the closest thing he's got and at least he doesn't have to deal with the guilt at even LOOKING at his brother's face (the sunken eyesockets,,,, the uneven teeth,,,,, yeah no) because there's nothing there. horror doesn't have to do anything but keep his back turned to dust and just talk to papyrus through him

they both keep their backs turned to eachother when they do this because neither of them can stand looking at eachother. dust especially because hearing horror sound so much like how he was before. horror sounds so lighthearted and relaxed and just,,,,, normal that it almost reminds dust of himself. maybe if he closed his eyes and tuned out his own voice he could just imagine the moment being a conversation between himself and paps back then before he had to kill him over and over. dust doesn't want to have to look back and see horror's mutilated skull and his permanently replaced eye. he doesn't want the fake scenario he's choosing to indulge in right now to be broken

and then i think they talk like that for a long time; because horror has a lot to say to paps about himself and what he regrets and dust has a lot of reminiscing to do on the good old days before he lost himself :3

[witheredbouquet]

drawn for the dragonyule gift exchange on twt, so glad that i could join this year! thank you for hosting, saint starfall ♥

i hope that everyone has a wonderful dragonyule & a happy new year!

[stemacademics]

small update

ok so um I got my number theory paper today, and the TA had cut marks for me because i left the answer at 66^2 and not 4356 (fermat's little theorem) 😔 I even wrote the full proof

my friend told me I should mail the TA about this, I got 14/20 and should be getting 17or18/20 😔

scores aside, number theory is so much fun, so much fun. the only good thing here is that I know the concepts well, and I fully knew the paper (still fucked it up, because I'm so frickin slow while writing and time). and it hurts worse because there's not enough proof that validates my knowledge. which in turn makes me question if i actually do have any.

I am, in general, a person who does well in concepts but screws up the exams (70% of the time) and I'm trying, I'm trying to get myself out of this "exam paniK" that I often spiral into, just minutes before the exam. I hope I change and grow; I hope, I hope.

[dxxtruction]

I am kind of not seeing Armand wanting to kill Louis. This would be far too out of character for me to ever beleive. I'm thinking he was doing whatever he could to live in his definition of survival, or at least doing all this to maintain his bubble of control. The whole coven was against him, and I do legitimately believe Armand was oblivious due to love. Then when push came to shove he did make his choice, he did rehearse and go along with the play despite his feelings and his wants. Not out of character for someone who's used to being needless or same that he flood with emotion the moment someone [louis] actually cares about his needs. Or maybe more believable is that this plot - some version of it - started way before his feelings were ever real and this was a choice of following through with it. Under threat likely, him still not realizing the extent of the coven's desire for bloodlust. Him, maybe being misled to believe they'd hold off long enough to let it go if Louis was proven to simply stay with him. Maybe if it was his idea to begin with, and in this scenario he'd at least have been there when this was being thrown around, perhaps he really thought his power and ruling would dissuade its reality. And then the ball drops.

He didn't want to kill Louis, is my point. If he did he'd have done it way sooner, and he wouldn't have let him exact any kind of revenge. Though Claudia, Madeleine, I could see, but I also don't think by the time they're running off together he would want the alternative either. If anyone wanted this it was the coven. So, it's not a matter of wanting to Armand but choosing to do this despite that. The real question therefore is: Why would he choose to go forward with it/go along with it? That's what I think we need to be asking.

Is it that he makes the choice that he does, because it's easier to submit than rise up? It is because the choice really wasn't a choice at all? Was it practical to him? Don’t run to one thing when this other thing is guaranteed to stick around? Was he in too deep to back out by the time he thought it mattered whether they live or die? Much can be delved into there. Trying to figure out why he wanted it isn't going to bring up anything.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Fandom: Batman and Robin (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Omega Dick Week (DCU), Omega Dick Grayson, Alpha Damian Wayne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, First Time, Oral Sex, Dominant Bottom, Topping from the Bottom, Gentle Sex, Praise Kink, Soft Dom Dick Grayson, Control Issues, Unrequited Crush, Pre-Flashpoint (DCU), Dick Grayson is Batman Summary: Damian is pent up, lashing out, and Dick is just about at his wit's end about it. When he tries to talk to Damian about it, he learns that Damian is suppressing his own ruts to have some form of control over himself. Dick convinces Damian to give up control to Dick, instead. - Omega Dick Week 2024 - Day 7: Free Day

[skepsiss]

Reflection: Nancy's POV

This is a 4 part mini-series about the Fruity Four. It's 1989 and Steve, Eddie, and Robin are visiting Hawkins over winter break. Nancy has invited them all over for a little Christmas get-together, and we read from the point of view of each member of the crew across 1 event.

I wrote these pieces to be read in any order, so... enjoy some Steddie, vague Ronance, Vickie x Robin, and just the Fruity Four being... fruity.

Dialogue prompt "You Remember That?" for @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. Page break/border by @/alderdoodle.bsky.social on Bluesky.

Rating: T Words: 4,034 CW: Swearing, crush on a friend, unrequited love, bi-curious, heartbreak

Steve's Part Robin's Part Nancy's Part Eddie's Part

Nancy pressed down the wrinkles on her skirt as she stood in the kitchen. She had a pot of milk on the burner to warm up, but she found herself oddly anxious. Steve, Eddie, and Robin were coming over and despite looking forward to seeing them, it almost felt like she was entertaining some big-wigs rather than her friends. It had been over a year since she had seen everyone in person, and she hadn’t been playing host then. But the four of them had spent plenty of time together at her house, they had saved the goddamn world together, for Christ’s sake. Still, she hadn’t had anyone over since her and Jonathan had broken up last summer. 

It felt weird to be back in Hawkins after all of that, even if the break-up had been amicable. Their lives were just moving in different directions and Nancy felt like she was holding Jonathan back while at the same time, Jonathan seemed to feel the same way. 

She wanted a career. 

Jonathan wanted a family.

They were both supportive of the other’s hopes and dreams, but it didn’t feel like they met at any junction when it came to big life choices. As sad as it was, it had been the right decision. Jonathan deserved happiness and somewhere along the line, Nancy stopped being the person that could give that to him. 

So… she was single. Single for the first time since she was 15 and that felt ridiculous. She didn’t know how to navigate that, but she was a capable woman, and she had no doubt she’d figure it out… so long as everyone stopped asking her about it.

There was a rapid knock on the door and Nancy went to answer it without a second thought. It couldn’t be anyone else other than Steve or Eddie—Robin didn’t hit things that hard. Plus, no one else was going to be out in this weather. It hadn’t snowed since yesterday, but it hadn’t melted either. Not many people braved the roads in these kinds of conditions unless they had all-wheel-drive or a death wish. 

Nancy opened the door to Eddie, who was shivering and had his back turned to the door.

“--Die, I swear to god, Eddie Mun–”

Nancy looked from Robin who was struggling up the path to the curly mop of brown hair in front of her.

“Why would he die?” Nancy asked, genuinely curious to know what they were talking about and if there was an actual reason to be concerned over Eddie’s well-being.

She didn’t get a proper answer as Eddie pushed his way into the house, hardly offering a hello as he chattered and kicked his boots off. She didn’t exactly expect decorum from Eddie, but a hello would have been nice. At least Robin and Steve had stopped to say their hellos.

Suddenly everything felt busy, but Robin and Steve fell right into step as they hugged her. It was familiar and warm, and many of Nancy’s worries disappeared as she shut the door behind them. 

“Glad to see you guys made it in one piece,” Nancy half-laughed, amused that their antics were so high-spirited considering they’d been on the road for the last hour at least—and a flight before that. Nancy herself had gotten in four days ago from New York and had plenty of time to settle. She hoped it was just as easy to settle into a conversation with them all as it had been to fall back into old habits around the house. 

It was fun how at home everyone seemed to be, though: Robin sitting on the floor and Steve and Eddie cuddled up on the couch together. They all lived together, so there was no doubt that they’d have a rapport with one another.

Still, her worries about being “the odd man out” didn’t come to light as they asked about her parents and she enthusiastically talked about Holly and her school play. It was so funny to see Holly being a proper young woman now; she was in elementary school and while she was still quiet, there was a bit of that feistiness Nancy loved to see. She had taken note of it when Holly had directly told her that Mike and Nancy were not allowed to come to her performance tonight. 

“Oh!” Nancy declared suddenly as she stood up. “I made cocoa, I forgot, one second.” 

Actually, she had made warm milk, and more accurately she had left it on the stove unattended.

She rounded the corner into the kitchen with some haste as she beelined it for the stove. The milk hadn’t boiled over yet-–which was a relief-–so she took it off the burner right away and grimaced, hoping she hadn’t burned it. 

Robin came in shortly after, and Nancy offered something of an awkward laugh before putting the pot of milk to the side.

“Almost ruined it,” Nancy said quietly, and then gestured toward the cupboard where they kept the mugs.

“They won’t know the difference,” Robin chuckled conspiratorially before retrieving the mugs.

Nancy watched her quietly while pulling out the tin of cocoa mix. Robin had changed her hair and she was dressed as odd as ever. But it worked. It wasn’t exactly fashionable, but it was stylish. Her hair was cut harsher than it had been in high school. The front was about as long as it had been in ‘86, but she had cropped up the back, so her hair was cut at an uneven angle, and she still had her beach waves. It was… rebellious, but in a subtle way that Nancy enjoyed.

Robin was… pretty. She was pretty in a way that boys wouldn’t find attractive, but that Nancy found herself appreciating. She had been thinking about this a lot lately, and she wasn’t really sure how she felt about the whole thing. Furthermore, she was single now-–single for the first time in years–and she had never… experimented. At least that was the phrase they used in school when she talked to some of the more “out-there” writers that seemed to match Robin’s style.

Oh, you’ve never even tried going with a girl?

Sue is fine, as long as you’re cool with her liking girls.

You’ve got to have life experiences if you’re going to write about different people’s lives.

Nancy wasn’t sure how she felt about all of that, but she wasn’t particularly close to any of those girls, and she had learned quickly that New York had a lot of queer people. The only thing that had gotten them to keep her on the level was when she mentioned her ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend who was in a metal band and her lesbian friend from high school. 

That seemed “edgy” enough to keep the conversations going, but Nancy hadn’t been single up until recently, and the last several months had been spent with her nose in her books trying to ignore and get over her breakup. It had only been as the semester was ending that Nancy had really started to think about other possibilities. 

Robin was… queer. She knew her. Was that pushing things? 

You were allowed to have flings and one-night stands, but it felt weird thinking about it toward a friend. But then again, Robin and her weren’t crazy close. They got along well, she liked Robin, but that was probably pushing things. What was her intention behind all of this, anyway?

Curiosity. 

Robin was chatting to her pleasantly, and Nancy smiled as she poured the warm milk into the mugs that Robin had fetched. She couldn’t believe she was thinking about this kind of stuff about Robin. That hardly felt fair-–it was messy, but Nancy had learned that she was a messy person when she tore away the layers of properness. She had always been someone who had shocking parallels. 

Nancy walked the cocoa into the living room behind Robin and handed her spare mug over to Steve before sitting down on the couch opposite them. Robin peppered her with questions about school and Nancy talked about her classes and potentially doing an internship in the summer. Boring stuff. But it was a nice distraction to stop her thoughts from spiralling.  

“How about you?”  Nancy asked pleasantly, curious how school was going to Robin up in Chicago.

“Oh! Just my uh, just my basic credits. I haven’t really decided, not properly yet, well, maybe I have. I don’t know? It’s a big question. I might be transferring to another school outside of Chicago, but I have to think about whether it’s worth it and I haven’t really checked if my credits are going to transfer yet, but uh, Vickie was saying she was thinking of going to… Columbia State, so….”

Nancy blinked with mild surprise at Robin’s response, staring at her a moment. She banished any thoughts of flirting or otherwise with Robin, especially as the conversation turned to Vickie. 

“Vickie? Vickie Newberry from school?” Nancy asked, not accusatory, but unsure how to react to the news. 

“Her high school sweetheart,” Eddie sighed, making himself sound overly dramatic.

“Oh… that’s sweet. Are you guys seeing one another?” Nancy questioned, looking from Eddie as Steve prodded him back to Robin, who was blushing.

Nancy didn’t want to admit that she was surprised and unfairly jealous in some small way that Robin was going with Vickie. Robin deserved happiness and Nancy’s chances of ‘having a fling’ were slim to none, so really it wasn’t fair at all to have her stomach flipping with annoyance and loss. 

It was good. Robin deserved that. She should have a girlfriend. She hoped Robin had a girlfriend, not only for Robin’s happiness but for Nancy’s prudence as well. 

Robin seemed to have intentions of heading over to Vickie’s place within the hour to visit, and Nancy didn’t mind entertaining Steve and Eddie by themselves. It made sense for Robin and Vickie to get together. They had been in band and Nancy had heard some kind of talk about Vickie from Steve in the summer of ‘86 before he had moved to Chicago with Robin. Nancy had heard that Vickie had stayed in Hawkins after her father’s death. That was all she knew about Vickie, though, they had never been friends in high school. 

When Robin did eventually leave-–knocking over an empty plate of cookies in her haste—Nancy said her goodbyes properly and tried not to smile when Steve gave Robin a pep-talk. It was charming to see Steve and Robin interact, and she was happy for both of them. Steve had never been like this with Tommy or Carole, and for the year that they had dated, he hadn’t really replaced those friendships with anyone else. It made Nancy think of Barb and how she had never really replaced that friendship either.

Nancy brushed off the pit forming in her stomach and waited for the door to close before turning on the vacuum that Steve had fetched for her. It was a quick clean up, and really she didn’t mind all that much that Robin seemed to be a tornado of clumsiness when her nerves got to her.

“Don’t you think you should ask me?” Eddie said finally when Nancy turned off the vacuum. She looked at him puzzled before she realized that he was talking to Steve.

“Offering a 3 am walk to Robin’s in the middle of the night if she blows things with Vickie? Don’t you think you should ask me?” 

Steve huffed at him as he sat down, slinging his arm around the back of the couch.

“You expect me to not go over to Robin’s in the middle of the night if she blows her first big, like, in-person thing with Vickie?”

The argument wasn’t all that serious, and Nancy rolled her eyes with amusement before putting the vacuum away. She liked this little window into Steve and Eddie’s relationship, it was charming. They seemed to argue a lot, but none of the disagreements held any weight. It wasn’t ribbing—not quite what she’d seen when Steve or Eddie interacted with her brother’s friends—but it was affectionate tormenting or something like that. It was also charming to see that Steve wasn’t backing down from his promise to Robin. 

“Snowing, by the way,” Nancy said as she tucked her skirt behind her knees and sat down again.

“Oh—yeah, you owe me,” Steve said, pointing at Eddie accusatory. “What did you say? There was no way we’d get stuck here? You’d eat your shorts or something like that?”

Steve was grinning at Eddie, who was rolling his eyes and looking properly annoyed. Not too much had changed then, Eddie still hated to lose.

“One of you going to start singing Santa Baby?” Nancy asked, leaning back on the couch and watching the two boys. Robin had to deal with this all the time? It sounded like they never stopped talking.

“Do I need to make up the pull-out bed in the basement?” She asked on a slightly more serious note. If the car was going to stay here, it would make sense for them to stay here.

“Let’s just see if it lets up,” Eddie offered, bristling slightly, obviously still keen on being right.

Steve rolled his eyes, but ultimately dropped it. It felt honest, and Nancy liked that; she had never been able to be fully honest with Steve. She regretted that. As friends, though, she was glad Steve was willing to let her make it up to him.

So much about Steve and Eddie seemed the same as it had been when they left Hawkins, but then again, Nancy could see so much growth. Both individually and as a couple. There was not quite an air of maturity as there was an air of ease. They were comfortable with one another. They played off each other’s faults and ‘isms in a natural, almost rehearsed, way. Rehearsed like you’d rehearse live jazz; none of it was planned, but you jammed together enough that you knew how to riff. 

Nancy wondered idly if the boys would be interested at all in doing an interview with her that she could submit for a class, or maybe even publish. 

The phone rang and as Nancy got up to answer it, the power dimmed and flickered for a moment. The call seemed to drop instantly, and the house went quiet.

All three of them looked up at the ceiling before Eddie hopped up and leaned over the back of the couch to open the curtains.

“Jesus, it’s really blowing out there now…”

“You sure you still want to wait?” Steve asked, obviously trying not to sound smug.

“Might as well wait,” Nancy offered before walking into the kitchen and fishing in the junk drawer for a flashlight. She wasn’t going to sit there and then stumble around in the dark if the power ended up going out.

“If it’s bad enough that you can’t leave, you can just sleep in the basement,” Nancy instructed, walking to the hall closet to grab the candles they kept there. “And if it lets up, then you can leave.”

Steve chuckled as she walked back into the room and deposited her handful of ‘emergency’ goods on the table.

“What?” She asked, sitting back down on the couch to enjoy the dregs of the cocoa.

“Just funny,” Steve offered, smiling at her. “Nancy… always prepared.”

He sounded charmed, as if he was reminiscing over something. The look made Nancy blush, and she glanced down, feeling a bit embarrassed for being called out like that.

“Reminds me of high school,” Steve replied, which made Nancy huff.

High school was two—nearly three—years ago now. For Steve, that meant it was almost four years ago. It felt like it was forever ago, and yet it was still crisp in her mind. 

“You should see her handbag,” Steve commented, gesturing to Eddie as if he was about to launch into a funny story. “One time-–I swear, it was like six times in one day-–I asked for stuff, and she just always had it handy. Pen, check. Dental floss? Check. I think I asked for a water bottle? You had that too. And like, what else—it just kept getting weirder, I swear. You had like a little compact screwdriver in there, and a pen light. You had a damn fork in there once. I think the weirdest thing you ever had in there was like first thing in the morning you came to the track field, and I was complaining that I was hungry, and you were lamenting with me and then-–like a magician or something-–pulled a jar of peanut butter out of your purse. Like, a whole jar! I remember absolutely losing it.”

Nancy flushed more at the memory as Steve laughed heartily and Eddie stared at her with amused awe.

“You remember that?” Nancy groaned, covering her face. She was unable to help herself from laughing, too. It had been so long ago she was less self-conscious about it, but Steve had laughed so loudly in public that it had embarrassed her horribly at the time.

“Wait, wait, you’ve got to tell me the story behind that,” Eddie insisted, his expression intense and his smile wide.

“It’s really not that interesting,” Nancy replied, getting a handle on her emotions. “I just… it was after school the day before, and I was really annoyed that Mike and Holly kept eating all the peanut butter when like it was my preference for breakfast, but they wouldn’t leave me like any, probably on purpose on Mike’s part. So I just… my mom bought a new peanut butter jar and I just put it in my purse without anyone noticing, so I could have it for breakfast the next morning and then… totally forgot about it.”

Nancy covered her eyes and laughed some more, finding her actions to be so childish now. She had only been 15 at the time, but it felt like that was a decade away.

“Spiteful, I like it,” Eddie grinned, crawling up onto his knees and peppering her with more questions. 

The evening continued like that, and the weather did eventually let up. It was still snowing, but the wind had died down, and the debate of whether they should stay or go arose. Eddie was all for going before he remembered he had forgotten his coat at home, and walking in this weather without proper winter wear was bound to be hellish. Steve was flip-flopping on the pros and cons of staying or going, the least of which was how cold the basement got at night. Nancy couldn’t help but think that the Munson’s trailer was bound to be worse.

“Well, just borrow my jacket,” Nancy finally offered, getting a bit sick of the boys arguing back and forth about whether or not they should leave.

Eddie blinked at her owlishly until Steve nudged him.

“You’d probably fit,” Steve chortled, smiling at his boyfriend.

“It definitely won’t!” Eddie declared, and Nancy thought she maybe saw a hint of a blush before she got up to grab her winter coat. It was large on her, and she had purposefully bought an oversized parka for New York so she could layer more easily. It was purple with white trims, and she could see Eddie’s nose curling as she walked in with it.

“Just try it,” she scolded. Steve was staying surprisingly quiet as she held back her own grin. 

Eddie huffed with annoyance, but eventually did take the jacket and tried it on. The zipper strained a bit, but it fit, and Eddie turned to look at Steve indignantly. 

“I hate you,” Eddie muttered, tucking into the collar of the coat. Steve was seemingly unable to hold back anymore, and he snorted a laugh.

“Really cuts a nice figure on you,” Steve complimented, indicating toward Eddie’s waistline and how the coat tapered in fashionably.

“Okay, we’re staying here, I’m not wearing this,” Eddie huffed, trying to undo the zipper.

“Careful! This is new,” Nancy scolded, trying not to smile as well and make fun of Eddie by mistake.

“Babe—sweetheart, don’t. Come on, it’s one walk, no one is out,” Steve encouraged, taking Eddie’s hands and stopping him from ruining the coat. “Plus, I’ll take it as an ‘I told you so’ instead of eating your shorts.”

“I hate you…” Eddie repeated, flushing bright enough this time that Nancy was able to clock it.

Nancy grinned at the two boys, finding it incredibly endearing that they argued like this. They were so catty with each other, but there was also so much softness between them. As cheesy as it sounded, it made Nancy feel as if romance wasn’t dead.

With Jonathan and herself, things had worked their way into a routine, and while there was comfort in that, things hadn’t been lively anymore. Nancy wanted lively. Even if it was short-lived; she was 20, and she was allowed a short-term thing. None of her friends from school were getting married yet anyway, even if the pressure was there from the outside. She wanted her career… maybe she could get used to starting a romance short-term wherever she went. Maybe experimenting could be less taboo. 

Maybe she’d talk to Robin about this and ask her thoughts on dating girls. Just in general. Not her specifically. 

Nancy sighed as she saw the boys to the door, holding out an old pair of Mike’s gloves for Eddie and one of her father’s beanies.

“Be safe,” Nancy said pleasantly, smiling at Eddie and Steve as Steve put on his winter boots.

“Thanks, Nance,” Steve said back, leaning into her for a hug. He gave her a squeeze and Nancy laughed a bit at the intimacy of it.

“If we’re able, we should do something else before we all skip town,” Steve offered, looking at Eddie, who was miserably stuffing his hair up into his hat so it wouldn’t blow around.

“Yeah, that’d be swell. Real peachy,” Eddie grumbled, standing there like a soaked cat, sulking.

Steve shoved him in the shoulder and Eddie stumbled slightly before looking away with a flush, obviously regretful of being so dismissive. He was just in a sour mood and Nancy wasn’t all that bothered by it, Eddie was just like that.

“You’ll have to return my coat before I leave anyway,” Nancy reminded them, and Eddie rolled his shoulder forward slightly as if he was hiding.

“Yeah, I… thanks, Nance,” Eddie said quietly and Nancy smiled at him softly. Out of the three of them, Eddie was the oldest, but he was also the one Nancy felt was the most like a little brother for her. She already had one of those and Eddie was more mature than Mike, but she had a similar protective feeling toward him.

“Be safe,” Nancy encouraged, hugging the side of the door as Steve joined Eddie out on the stoop, the two of them bundled to the nines. “Call when you get in.”

“We will,” Steve confirmed, casually-–and easily—taking Eddie’s hand. It was strange for Nancy to see them being affectionate out in public like this, but with Eddie so bundled up, no one would know who he was-–no one would likely recognize Steve either.

“Night,” Steve offered as he stepped down and offered his other hand to Eddie to help him. Eddie said something vaguely condescending, and Nancy felt her heart warm slightly.

“Night,” she repeated quietly and then shut the door.

Nancy ran her hands over her skirt and flattened down the wrinkles before glancing at the sitting room and the mess left behind. There were still crumbs that needed to be cleaned off the couches and treats that should be packed away so they didn’t go stale, but Nancy felt good, seeing the imprint of her friends in her childhood home. She had been worried they had fallen out of sync with each other, but it had taken little effort to fall back in step with them all. For having been alone for the last six months… that was a comfort larger than Nancy could describe. 

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[memento-morri-writes]

It's been well over a week now (maybe two??) but I'm still plugging away (ever-so-slowly) at this vignette about Zara and Rook. Zara's POV is a lot of fun to write, now that I have a better sense of her character. Writing this has really solidified in my mind the kind of person she is and how she acted when she was Rook's captain and mentor. She's very calm and collected in comparison to Rook, even when under a lot of stress.

Anyways, have a little snippet that I'm proud of from today, featuring the origins of the coin trick!

Pacing back and forth across her cabin floor, she rolled the coin back and forth over her knuckles again and again. The motion was easy, almost mindless, more muscle memory than real intent. The coin trick had been her favorite way to soothe her nerves for years now. She’d picked it up out of idle curiosity after watching a street performer dining in a tavern in Bon Largo, who had chatted with her for over an hour as she fretted about something mundane, never once dropping the coin from their fingers. The same performer had later tried to steal her coin purse and ended up with nothing but a new scar for their trouble, but Zara had learned two important things from the encounter: Not to trust a warm smile and a pretty face, and that keeping her hands moving kept her mind from dwelling too much on worrisome things.

one-time tagging @space-writes because they commented on my tags about Rook learning the coin trick from Zara in one of my other snippets from this piece.