#missing my miraculous era

[kitkat13001]

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖

>> luka couffaine x reader

>> established relationship, mentions of alcohol, reader is slightly intoxicated, reader and luka are childhood friends, title is from tv girl and jordana’s song “sweet to dream”

“okay, listen. i know for a fact that alix spiked the punch, so maybe it’s that, but also,” you breathe, the words coming so rapidly as you gaze into luka’s eyes. “also, i’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate.”

luka laughs softly, amusement dancing in his deep blue eyes. “is that so?”

you nod probably harder than you should because your head spins and you feel a little dizzy. 

“okay,” luka smiles, his hands warm on your shoulders as he tries to steady you. “you clearly have had too much to drink.”

you giggle, leaning forward to rest against his chest as you look up at him. “can i have a kiss?”

“baby, you are drunk. intoxicated. under the influence.”

“come on,” you whine, “please? just a kiss! i won’ even tell anyone, i promise.”

“oh, just one? you promise?” luka teases. 

“i swear it on my whole heart,” you nod dutifully, words slurring together. 

luka shakes his head and stares lovingly down at you. you try to make your eyes really big and bat your lashes. 

and still, as ridiculous as you must look, luka looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. you’re lost in his gaze as he leans in and you’re almost upset when his eyes flutter closed and you lose the vision of blue. but then his lips are ghosting over yours and your eyes shut too. 

it’s chaste and short and sweet and over before you want it to be. your bottom lip pushes out in a pout and luka just laughs at you again. 

“come on,” he sighs, smile still lingering on his lips as he guides you down the hall. “let’s get you to bed.”

you complain the whole way up but it’s superficial. you’re still floating from the kiss. metaphorically, of course, because your feet catch on every single step on the stairs as you go up to your room. 

“please remind me to never let our friends near the punch ever again,” luka grunts, hoisting you into his arms as you decide that your legs have lost any and all independence. 

you burst into a giggle fit as he heaves you onto the bed, exhaling and blowing a strand of blue hair out of his face, which is flushed from the effort of carrying you up the stairs. 

you try to unlace your shoes but your fingers are wiggling in the funniest of ways and now you’re certain you’re not even touching the laces. luka swiftly undoes them and playfully throws your feet up on the bed. 

“come on, it’s bedtime for you.”

you settle underneath the covers as luka tucks you into them, handing you a stuffed animal like a child. the minute he leans away your heart pauses a beat. “luka?” 

“mm?”

“will you stay?”

“wasn’t planning on leaving, babes,” he chuckles, making himself comfortable on the edge of the bed. one of his hands wanders along the patterns in the blanket, the other reaching to turn of the light. it leaves the room in the dim but warm glow of your salt lamp. 

you hum happily, nestling yourself further into the covers. 

“luka?” you call out softly again. 

again, he hums. “mm?”

“am i your soulmate?”

he chuckles quietly to himself, leaning down to leave a kiss on your forehead. “i’ve known that since i was ten years old, honey.”

his soft and warm voice envelops you and you drift off to sleep with the comforting feeling of him right next to you. 

[my-melo-gf]

I got tired of Luka couffaine playlists sounding like 2020 indie kids so I made one myself bcz a grunge king needs a very grunge playlist (also adding the fact that his dad is probably his biggest influence in music)

[anna-scribbles]

resolutions

[chocostrwberry]

Akumatized Sabine and Marichat!! And a new chat noir design, I had this planned for a month but I NEVER draw him for some reason?? So I haven’t said anything ab it-

Nurse Desserts power is that she makes anyone within her vicinity contract an illness, which induces fatigue, sneezing, coughing, and greenish lumps/spots to appear on their body. Her sentimonster is a giant cake baby that can also turn into multiple of itself, but get smaller the more there are.

[firendgold]

Harry and Lily's motivations and thought patterns can be said to be similar, though, even with how cruelly they were separated.

Harry did not have the chance to be raised by Lily, true. Personality is not solely shaped by genetics: also true. But Harry still shares Lily's stubbornness, cutting tongue, and her strong sense of justice. He shares her belief in the value of sacrifice, even when that sacrifice is personal, final, and has no guarantee of leading to the most ideal outcome. Like both Lily and James, like Sirius and Remus, Harry has no fear of sacrificing himself for friends and family—no fear of dying for what he believes in. He believes in doing things for the benefit of the many, even at his own expense.

This isn't because he's been "groomed" to be that way. It is an innate part of his character from the moment we first meet him in chapter 2 of book 1. It is a part of his character that is clear to characters like Albus, Sirius, Remus, and Severus without Harry ever having to express it in words. It's not an aspect of his character many people like that much, much less accept, but it is a distinct tie between Lily's character and Harry's.

The wizarding world has only a vague idea of who Harry is, and Harry is only infrequently bothered by their opinions of him. His strongest rejection of any role they might put him in is during year 5, when the general public's denial of Voldemort's return is literally threatening his life. But the Ministry and the general public don't have the slightest idea of who Harry is and what he's motivated by—ironically, very similar to many members of Harry's own fandom.

As for Lily's home life, we know that her parents adored her and she had a strong friendship with Severus. But we also know that all was not rosy (no pun intended) in her early life before she grew up and joined the fight against Voldemort. She and Petunia had a rocky relationship which only worsened the more Lily leaned into her identity as a witch. Her first best friend splintered off at some early point during their school years, splitting his time between her and a group of people who thought she was sub-human and a thief of magic. Of the other close friends she may have had, none seem to have outlived her, and she spent at least some of her last days on earth getting news of their deaths.

Lily does not get the screen time she deserves, and much of her behavior is left only to our speculation as fans. But Lily's words and choices in light of the few things we do know about her speak to a deep strength of character, an inflexible sense of right and wrong. Lily Potter is an altruistic woman who is able to empathize with others even without suffering a quarter of the harm that her son comes to experience once she is gone.

Harry was most certainly abused: neglected, treated as less than his cousin, left alone to handle problems no child should have to handle. But I'd argue that these things did not take away his sense of identity, or prevent him from having one; and that it's a common fanon misconception that Harry is either a beaten-down butterfly or a blank-slate everyman.

One of the thing many fans miss about Harry (despite how much his mistreatment is discussed) is that even with the way the Dursleys treat him, Harry does not bend or break before them. A different child might have been submissive, shy, obedient. They might have taken on some of the same ugly beliefs as their 'caretakers'. At eleven years old, Harry is and does none of those things. He is defiant. He is snarky. He is strong-willed, and extremely opinionated, and loyal—though he doesn't fall in line behind the first person with power or wealth or even a winning smile. As he matures throughout the series, these core traits mature with him.

The Harry who sends his friends away for help and decides to face Voldemort at eleven, knowing he will likely die, is the same Harry who goes in secret to face Voldemort at seventeen, knowing he will most certainly die. And he shares this choice, and the belief system it's based on, with the woman who threw herself in front of her killer, her son's would-be killer, and said please not Harry. Have mercy.

Harry Potter wasn't raised to be a soldier or a self-sacrificial lamb. Harry experienced criminal neglect in his early years and realized that no one was going to swoop in and save him when he needed help. He took that to mean that if he wanted something done, if he wanted to help others, he needed to do it himself. By the time he met with adults who did want to help him, and could have helped him, their hands were tied by murderous half-dead men and bureaucratic conservatist systems and discrimination and their own misconceptions of him and a million other things—and that cemented the part of Harry's personality that insisted he must handle things by himself.

And that, acting where others don't or won't, is a choice he makes on his own throughout the series. Harry has plenty of chances to run away from his issues, and a host of people who might have been glad to let him do it. But he doesn't, because he never wants to be a bystander. He never wants to be the type of person who turns his back on the suffering of others—like Wormtail, like the Death Eaters, like the Ministry of Magic. It is a trait he shares with his mother, who could have just as easily packed up and moved clear across the world when Voldemort started terrorizing Britain—but didn't.

Whether they are loved or hated by others, villainized or lionized, both Harry and Lily choose to make personal sacrifices to fight for what's right.

All this to say—I agree with the OP. Harry Potter is not James Potter and he is not Lily Evans Potter either. But I also believe Harry does have some of his parents' less obvious traits, traits which shine through in some of his most perilous moments and give him the strength to overcome his opponents. Still, Harry should NOT be written or interpreted as a carbon copy of either of his parents, because it was Harry James Potter alone who had the personality, the strength, the wisdom, and the selflessness necessary to destroy Voldemort.

Harry Potter is an extremely complex character who deserves actual deep analysis of his choices and character that aren't tied to what his parents said or did or how fans feel about his sacrificial tendencies.

harry potter is NOT james potter.

I love parallels. I love people reminding others of those they've lost along the way.

But Harry Potter is not James . And that is so vital to his entire character.

When people see Harry, they see James. They see a James who sees the world through Lily's eyes. When they see Harry, they don't see Harry.

And that is so vital to his entire being. It's vital to how people see Harry. The people that didn't know James, see the Boy-Who-Lived.

The people who did, who were close to Harry, to James, to Lily. They see James and Lily Potter. They see the people who died, people they were close to, people they miss every day but will never see again.

Remus, Sirius, Snape, McGonagall.

At first, they see James and Lily. And then when they meet him - apart from Snape- they quickly realise he is anything but.

Harry is not arrogant, rich, spoilt. He doesn't have an ego, he doesn't play pranks, he isn't a chaser, he doesn't pick fights.

Harry isn't exceptionally bright at everything he does, he isn't inconceivably forgiving for those who don't deserve it.

He is not Lily and James.

When peole write Harry as a golden retriever, as effortlessly good at everything, they aren't writing about Harry.

Harry who grew up not wanted. Harry who grew up believing something was wrong with him. Harry who was forced into the wizarding world with no knowledge. Harry who is as stubborn as a mule,. Harry who is loyal to a fault, who forgives those he loves, Harry who isn't his parents.

He has traits of them, their anger, their ability to love, and much much more.

BUT Harry Potter isn't them. He isn't the 'best of them both' he isn't James or Lily or Sirius or Regulus.

Harry Potter is Harry. Just Harry.

And that is why he doesn't get along ith Snape. That's why McGonagall believes Harry dragged Neville out for a joke in first year.

When people see Harry, they don't see Harry. And by writing Harry as somebody else, or as 'so-and-so's child' you're not doing the character justice.

'I want a complex character with complex relationships'

'i want an angry character'

'i want to read a book that makes me think'

you couldn't even handle Harry Potter.

[sineala]

Are there ANY stony/Star Trek AUs?

Okay. Um. I'm just going to assume this is a legitimate question and not actually a way to express frustration about my progress on the sequel I am writing (I stared at this ask for a while), so I will just conclude that you must have missed the Steve/Tony Star Trek AU I wrote, um, back in 2016:

Straight on till Morning (109848 words) by Sineala Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Janet Van Dyne, Hank Pym, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton, Donald Blake (Marvel), Jocasta (Marvel)  Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Action/Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining, Angst, Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Caves, Sex In A Cave, Technobabble, Happy Ending, Cap_Ironman Big Bang 2016, Community: cap_ironman, Podfic Available  Summary: 

Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. 

But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything.

So, yeah, if you actually haven't read that one, that'll keep you busy for a while. It's a Trek fusion with comics Steve/Tony, set in the era of the later TOS movies. (This is important so that you can picture the correct uniforms, and also because it actually matters that the events of Star Trek II, III, and IV have happened.) It was a Big Bang fic, so it's got some great art by Ran and Phoenix -- embedded in the story -- and also M_Samro made a really amazing podfic of it, if you like podfics.

For a charity auction in 2017, I promised I would write a sequel, and I plotted the whole thing out and started writing this extremely epic sequel, which was unfortunately, about a plague threatening the galaxy, and I got about 120,000 words in and then 2020 happened and I decided I needed to not be writing it right now. So it went on an extended hiatus.

But the good news is that I've actually gotten back to it! I picked it up again last month and I've put 40,000 more words in it since then and at this exact moment I am currently working on the last scene of Chapter 4 (out of six total)! I swear it is happening! I've been putting in about a thousand words a day for the past month! It is really happening this time! The sequel is coming! I promise! I know it has been years but it's happening!

See? It's happening! (I would include a screencap of the part that is happening, but all of Chapter 4 is pretty spoilery.)

So that will exist! Someday! I mean that!

And if you're asking about Steve/Tony Star Trek AUs by people other than me, there are some! If you filter the AU - Star Trek Fusion tag by Steve/Tony, there are 25 matches. Several of them are related to my fic (remixes, art) but there is some stuff that isn't my fault! I haven't read a lot of them because I was trying not to read things that seemed like they might be similar to mine while I was plotting my series here, and also I have never finished watching DS9, so I skipped the DS9 ones.

Under Stars by vulcanscully: A fun fusion that I thought was interesting because Steve is an ensign and that's not how this usually goes.

Discovery of the Century by DepressingGreenie: More 616 in flavor than a lot of the Trek AUs, this is basically Finding Steve In The Ice but Make It Star Trek. As far as I am concerned, Finding Steve In The Ice is great every time.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza: I'm probably biased because this one was inspired by my fic, but I also really enjoyed this one for not being how these things usually go. A lot of Trek AUs in many fandoms are written through a TOS/AOS kind of lens and will often do a Kirk/Spock thing and make one of them a Vulcan or half-Vulcan. In this one that's Tony, but also he's a terrible Vulcan! He's found a new way to disappoint his father!

Stellar Love Affairs by AvengersNewB: I honestly had never imagined a Star Trek fusion that was also A/B/O but I think it really works here! It's like bringing pon farr full circle.

Xenophilia by Captain_Panda: Captain_Panda has several Trek AUs but I am reccing this one because it's the longest. And also the whumpiest. Everyone loves some good away-mission whump!

So there you go! Live long and prosper! I promise I am still writing this Star Trek AU sequel!

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Two

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: Lucas, Mike and Dustin try to talk to the girl they found in the woods; And Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call; Steph and Will must continue to survive; And Steve’s eyes get opened in a way he never saw coming.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,024 (Oh, my lord)

🎲Date: 5/16/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying Sex; Lying; Implied Suicide; Death/Killing; Talks of Corpses; Blood; Gun Use; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Jesus. This was a tough one to write and edit (Hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes). But, geez. Writing different POVs, everyone's thought was a tough one. But hopefully y'all can understand 😅. Also, I am NOT a D&D player, so some of lore just comes straight from the wiki. Hopefully that's reliable enough. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE || 

“What the fuck are you?!” Will heard her scream as the creature tried to outmatch her. The light above them grew brighter and brighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut while gripping her jacket tighter. He prayed this was just another nightmare. Maybe… Maybe he’s getting his wish when he hears the silence. Does he dare open his eyes and see the truth?

He’s scared, trembling, and it heightens when he hears the girl heaving for air. So much so he clenches his grip on the fabric tighter, the strange smelling air going through his nostrils causing him to gasp himself. When his eyes snapped open is when his coughing fit started.

He hears his name being called, and hands coming around his shoulders. He almost jerks away, afraid, until his orbs settle on the silhouette before him. 

“S-Steph?” He croaked, a sense of relief flooding his veins. “What just happened?” He could see the confusion on her face, looking around for clues. He followed her eyes, nose crinkling at the sight. “We’re still in the shed. But it’s… gross.”

She swallows. “Stay behind me.” She tells him, and guides herself through the door. They both shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

Will and her looked around, the outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

“Did you hit your head when we crashed?” She asked after getting his attention away from the sky. 

He shakes his head, almost sadly. If that had both just hit their heads, would the situation have been better? He frowns, worriedly thinking away as the older girl tries to stay calm.

“Come on.” She says, gesturing to him to follow. “Let’s go inside. I want to see something.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

The rain was coming down more intensely than before, followed by the grumbling of thunder and lightning. Somehow, miraculously, the boys, mostly Wheeler, managed to convince the strange girl they found in the woods to return home with them, and hid her in the basement.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Mike asked, worriedly as the girl looked between the three boys, all scared and confused.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin spitted out, genuinely curious.

“Did you run away?” Lucas asked, skeptical. 

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike says, just as his friend questions a red sustain on her shirt. He slaps his hand away quickly. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested, before taking a quick half step and smacking his hands together. The sound makes the girl flinch, and he frowns apologetically. “Not deaf.”

“That’s enough, all right? She’s just scared and cold.” Mike said, silencing the two before running over to the laundry basket and grabbing some clothes. “Here, these are clean. Okay?”

The girl takes them, taking a second to be grateful before she starts stripping– The boys freak out, Mike running up to stop her while the other two look away. 

“See over there?” He points. “Th-That’s the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?” She nods and he shows her inside. Just when he was about to shut it behind him, she grabs it forcibly. “You don’t want it closed?”

“No.” She finally says, surprising him.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well… Um, how about we just keep the door…” He slowly moves it until there’s about three inches of space. “Just like this. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

Mike smiles and leaves her be, rejoining the group who were having a conversation of their own.

“This is mental.” Dustin said, freaking out.

“At least she can talk.” Mike points out, with Lucas shaking his head, replying,

“She said ‘no’ and ‘yes’. Your three-year-old sister says more.”

“She tried to get naked.” Dustin adds.

“There’s something seriously wrong with her.” Lucas said, touching his temple. “Like, wrong in the head.”

“She just went like…” The Henderson boy makes a motion of taking off shirt (and even knocked his own hat off his head).

“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”

“From where?” Mike said, eyebrow raised.

“The nuthouse in Kerley County.” 

“You got a lot of family there?” Dustin teased, getting a dirty look. 

“Bite me. Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”

“Why she went like…” He does the shirt motion again. In his mind this was helping him and Lucas’ case.

“‘She’s an escapee’ is the point. She’s probably a psycho.”

“Like Michael Myers.”

“Exactly! We should’ve never brought her here.”

“So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?” Mike asks, irritated. 

“Yes! We went out to find Will–” 

“And Phanie.” Dustin pressures. 

“And Steph – not another problem!” Lucas agrees.

“I think we should tell your mom.”

“I second that.”

Mike holds his hand up. “Who’s crazy now?” 

“How is that crazy?” Lucas scoffed.

“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”

“So?”

“So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom–”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” Lucas frowns.

“Exactly. We’ll never find Will, or Steph.” Mike says, seeing Dustin make the shirt motion once more, silently asking the question about the girl. “All right, here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”

Henderson perked up again. “You’re letting a girl–” 

“Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will and Stephanie.”

Lucas and Dustin share a look, until one of them finally shrugged. “I guess that works.”  

“Great. We’ll start again tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.” Mike bid them as he went off to start making the mysterious girl a place to rest.

“This is crazy, man.” Lucas said, once they had snuck back out. “What the hell is Mike even thinking?”

“I don’t know. Do you think his plan will really work?” Dustin asked, as they headed over to where their bikes were hidden.

“I’m giving it less than a fifty percent chance of success.” He sighs. “I better get home.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad.” He pats his curly haired friend on the back. “We’ll find them.”

“I just want my sister back. You have no idea.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the following morning, in the Byers house, the eldest seemingly was keeping it together, making the morning meal like he always does and hoping his worrying mother would have just a bite. 

“All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan said, while placing the plate down in front of her, her thoughts being interrupted. 

“What?” His mother said, before moving some papers. “No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right–”

“I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen, listen. The Xerox place opens in, like…” She looks down at her watch. “30 minutes–”

“Mom–”

“And I don’t want you to go alone–”

“No, I know. I told you, I got it.”

“So I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” She gestures around, all jittery. “Claudia will meet you there, b-but if she’s not, she’ll reimburse us for the copies of Stephanie, I–”

He shakes his head with understanding. “Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?” He nods again. “How much is a copy?”

“Mom?”

“Ten cents?”

“Mom?” 

“If we– ten cents”

“Mom, Mom!” Jonathan stops her from counting the cash she had laid out, and squeezes her shoulder with her other hang to calm her. “Y-You can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Joyce replies, taking a shaky inhale of nicotine. 

“No, it’s okay.” He reassures her softly, just before someone comes knocking on their door. The mother rushed over with her son on her tail, busting the door wide open for the exhausted police officer. 

“We’ve been waiting six hours.” 

“I know, I came as soon as I could.” Hopper replies, nearly dead on his feet.

“Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, all right?” He slides his hat off. “We’ve been searching all night, went all the way to Cartersville.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Joyce made a choking sound and looked away. “God…”

Hopper frowns, sadly. “Flo says you got a phone call?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joyce nods and shows him their phone. 

He picks it, examining the speaker part of it which was charded black. “Storm barbecued this pretty good.”

She took a step back in surprise. “The storm?”

Hopper looked at her like she had two heads. “What else?”

“You’re saying that that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the–”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” He shakes his head, and then looks at her with all seriousness. “Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

“No. It was him, it was Will... and h-he was scared. And then something–”

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Joyce questioned, face full of confusion and sickness.

“Well, this thing’s been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh–”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.”

“Joyce.” He begins, as she denies him again

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She laughs dryly. “What, you think I’m– I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up.” Hopper looks at her with concern again. “All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing?”

“Joyce–”

“Hopper, my son’s missing. A-And not only that, someone else’s daughter is missing.” She nervously takes a puff of her cigarette. “And you know what the mess up part about that is? Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!” 

She ends with an emotional sigh, tightening the heavy tension it the room. Jonathan worriedly looking at his mother before, locking eyes with the police chief who was trying to find the right words to say.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper asked after the small silence.

“No.”

“It’s been long enough.” He puts his hat back on. “I’m having him checked out.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighs loudly, watching him leave. “You’re wasting your time.” Then the door shuts, and rubs her temple. “Jesus. He never listens!”

Jonathan ponders for a moment, before asking, “Mom, how likely is it that Will would actually go to Lonnie’s?”

“I…” Joyce runs a hand through her messy locks. “It’s possible, but he lives a long, long way. Especially on foot. But… I don’t– maybe he would! I…” She sighs again, overwhelmed. “However, I don’t think he would have gone with Stephanie. He’s… W-Will knows your father’s not the best man, and Will, you know, has that heart of gold.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Will would have risked Stephanie like that.” She shakes her head. “No. She’s an older kid, and older sister. As much as this sounds messed up, she would have done anything to make sure Will was safe. I know it. So… my question is…” She locks eyes with her son. “What would a girl her age think is a safe place for a young boy?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| TWO NIGHTS AGO ||

Stephanie flipped the lightswitch on in the kitchen out of curiosity, but finds herself still submerged in darkness. “Just what I thought. There’s no light.” She says with a frown.

“The flash of light we saw–” Will looks up at her. “Do you think it was a power outage?” 

“I don’t think there’s light here, I mean-” She starts walking around, rubbing her shaking hands together. “Look at this place. I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore.” She shivers just a smidge. “At least it’s a little warmer inside here.” Then she hears a distressful sound. “Will?”

The boy was pale, pupils blown wide and had a small tremble. “W-What do you m-mean we’re not in Hawkins anymore?” He asked, lip quivering with a slight pant. “B-But th-this looks like my house. D-Did w-we get taken somewhere else? Can we even g-go home? I–”

“Shit… Will–” She rushes over, hands coming up to his shoulders while she gets on one knee. “Will? Hey, bud, listen– hey.” She makes sure his gaze meets hers. “Don’t freak out. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we do, I’m going to get us home, I promise.”

The boy sniffles into his shoulder, fighting back tears. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She says it without realizing the fate of those words.

He swallows and extends out a certain finger. “Pinky promise?”

Her breath was nearly taken away by that certain question, taking her far back into a distant memory. But… like hell she’s going to let that memory change her judgment. She interlocks hers with his and repeats, “Pinky promise.”

That got him to crack a smile. “So, what next?” He asks, making her rack her brain for a plan.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

He woke up again to his cat’s crying. The young Henderson frowns, heart clenching at how Mews was wondering where his sister was at. For the urban legend of how cats had no emotions, he’s certainly not seeing it. He rubbed his eyes and wandered aimlessly around, the thought of calling sick into school was still fresh in his mind. Should he? I mean it made sense, and it wasn’t like the school won’t understand, so….

Was that a yes?

He walked through the hallway, curls in his eyes as slows in front of his sister’s bedroom. His cat locked eyes with him, sadness and confusion filled the slitted pupils. Mews meows again.

“She’s not back yet.” Dustin says, getting a chirp. “We’re trying. She’ll be back soon.” He starts walking away, hearing him make a sad sound once more. 

“Dusty-bun, I’m going to make some posters.” Claudia said, who were gathering her belongings by the door. “I left you breakfast on the stove.”

His nervous fingers gripped his t-shirt as he tried not to sound so down. “Hey, Mom?” Her eyes meet his gaze. “Is it okay if I… stay home today?”

Claudia’s face softens bittersweetly. “Of course you can, sweety. If you leave the house for whatever reason, just leave me a note where you’re going, that’s all I ask.” She gives him a kiss on his hairline, and is one foot out the door before adding, “Oh! And be back before dark. Okay? Your Mama doesn’t need to worry about another kid.”

“Can do.”

He watches her smile and closes the door, locking it. He frowns at that action, I mean they’ve never locked their door before, and now it was becoming second nature. He was even surprised she told him he could leave the house. Or… did she not expect him to leave this place in the state he’s in? Sounds like something she would do.

He sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, really, but he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings or make her beg for him to eat – he didn’t want to call ‘pot kettle black’ since he was the one that had to convince his mourning mother to eat last night. But it was hard, his fork just picking at the food, cutting it into smaller pieces to stare at before dropping his utensil onto the plate.

Steph… His fingers dug into his pocket and pulled the gold chain out, letting it sprawl out in his palm. He stares at it intensely, thinking. Come on, Sis, give me a sign. What happened to you and Will? What caused you to go off road and run? Run with Will’s shotgun out of all things?

What had got her so scared that they needed a weapon to protect themselves? Both her and Will were the last two people that would resort in violence, so the fact that they decided to arm themselves with a weapon tells him that something sinister was up.

But what? Dustin lays the necklace down next to him, pretending that she was here to eat with him like she always does, before deciding it was time to munch on what was left on his plate.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper struggles to keep his mind clear after that conversation with Joyce. His thought always going back to this particular moment:

.

““Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!””

.

Of course the woman felt guilty about everything. I mean, your kid goes missing, who else are you going to blame other than yourself? But she also was chipping away at the idea it was her fault that that poor girl was missing too. Blames herself for working later than usual, and wasn’t the one to come across her own son on the road and pick him up. That’s a lot of guilt for someone who’s holding the family together on her own.

He listens to the volunteers shout the children’s names, hoping that they would shout back. Hopper wishes that too. He prays that one of them would yell back for help and get this nightmare over with.

“Hey!” He shouts at the two officers. “Anything?”

Callahan shakes his head. “You?”

“No, nothing but a dead phone.”

“Joyce?”

Hopper nods. “About one step from falling off the edge.”

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asked, as he’s met with a stern glare. 

“Kid’s missing, man. Show a little class.” Hopper snaps, making them avert their eyes.

“All right…”

He exhales and takes off with the rest of the group, shouting, “Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.” He keeps his fingers crossed that this would be it. That this would be the search that brings them home.

For their mothers' sake.

For his sake.

For every goddamn person out of here’s sake. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

Stephanie shifted through the last cabinet and frowns. “Well, we can’t cook anything because there’s no electricity. But we can eat the dry goods. Unless we can figure out how to start a fire” She sighs, and wrinkles her nose. I mean, they can go a few days without eating if they didn’t want to touch the box of crackers covered in goo. But water? How were they supposed to have water if the faucet comes out with something they probably shouldn’t drink.

She rubs her temples, thinking. “I guess we’re going to have to look for some bottled stuff to drink.” She makes contact with the boy who just entered the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine. I got a bit of a chill, but we can still grab clothes out of the closets if we need it.” Will replies, hugging his walkie talkie close.

“And the call?”

“Nothing. I mean I could hardly ever get reception over here anyway, so maybe we can try finding a different spot.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea." She says with a sigh. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Oh, uh– Mom’s room.” He points behind him.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a peek outside. If it seems clear, maybe we can try to find some reception.” 

Stephanie leaves the room with Will looking back at his walkie. He had to remain strong, hopeful. He has to get through to someone. His friends, his family, one of them has to be able–

Wait.

Was he hearing things? Was his mind playing tricks?

His eyes trail to his living room where he swears he heard someone talking. It was faint, but you can’t miss it. 

It sounds like… His chest tightens at a thought, his brown orbs blown wide as he looks at the yellow phone on the wall. It was probably hopeless, stupid even, I mean… the damn thing didn’t work when Stephanie tried to call for help when they were being chased. But that was the real world, this was… fake? Maybe it different, maybe it’s—

Oh, shit.

Maybe he’s just grasping at straws at this point and hopes it turns out okay.

His fingers latch around the phone, pulling it off the receiver and dials his home’s number, praying with all his might that this ridiculous idea would actually work. 

Come on, come on, come on, come on, com–

Oh, he felt like crying when someone picked up.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

His mother’s voice broke through and poke him in the heart. He couldn’t breath as relief washed over him like a storm.

[ ‘Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?’ ]

Say something, say something, say something– His lip quivers as he swallows. “M-Mom?” He can’t wait till Steph hears about this. “M-Mom, I-It’s me.” 

She can hear me right? She has to. 

[ ‘Will? Will? It’s Will!’ ]

[ ‘Mom, it’s Will?’ ]

He could cry upon hearing the second voice. “J-Jonathan? Mom? M-Me and Stephanie are tr-trap in some weird place! I-I don’t know what t-to–”

Then he was cut off by the dreadful sound of the monster. Will watched as its claws wrapped around the corner, almost like it was pulling itself into the kitchen. He doesn’t even know where it came from. He didn’t even hear it freaking come in! 

He froze on sight, his mother shouting something he couldn’t make out as the beast with no eyes looked directly at him. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his throat. Is this how he was going to die? Die by listening to his mother’s pleas to answer her?

It shrieked and seemed to get bigger, ready to strike him down before it took a bullet to the face. The shot made it fall against the wall, and Will drops the fried phone and backs himself away. Stephanie looked half scared to death too as she cocks the shotgun again and fires one more when it stands up, sending it flying to the living room. As quickly as her buckling knees could hold her, she rushes over to Will, pulling him behind her as she aims the barrel into the direction the beast was. Shaking intensely, she carefully peeks around the corner to find that it had completely vanished like it did earlier. She gasps in shock before sliding to the ground herself, mentally drained.

“Steph!!” Will calls out with worry. He could see her eyes glassing over, her skin becoming paler as she shouts, 

“Where the fuck are we?!” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY || 

Steve strolls into school, head in the clouds, and an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His sleep went to complete shit after the conversation with his girlfriend last night. He still doesn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It’s not like him and Steph hung out anymore. So why is he losing sleep over this?

You’re not even friends anymore, Harrington. He mentally slaps himself. Get your shit together– 

“Boo!” Tommy yelled, jumping out from behind the corner, startling him.

“Jesus, Hagan.” Steve said, holding his chest while the other teen laughed.

“That was so easy.”

“So–” Carol’s arm snakes around him with a grin. “Did you tell your little girlfriend about your party?” 

“I-I… not yet.” 

“What? You didn’t tell her at her house yesterday?” 

“N-No. Never got the chance to.”

“What?!” Tommy scoffs. “Stealthy Stevie didn’t get to use his skills last night?” Him and his girlfriend laughed, but then grew quiet seeing how distant the King was being. “What the fuck’s going on with you, man?”

“Um…” Steve’s gaze gets caught onto someone else, spotting a certain person posting a certain flier up on the bulletin board. He swallows, and masks a fake smile. “You guys go ahead to class. I got to grab something out of my locker.”

“Oh, we can go with you.” Carol begins, trying to follow him but he shakes them off.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Steve ignores the strange looks they gave him before walking away. Deciding this was the ‘only’ way, he rushes over to the oldest Byers kid, ‘accidently’ pushing his shoulder into his, knocking the papers out of his hand while he was leaving. He scoffs, while saying, “Watch where you’re going!” 

Jonathan says nothing as he bends over to collect the rest, oblivious to the other teenager sliding a paper away with his foot. Once he leaves, Steve retrieves the flier from under his shoe, reading it over.  

  HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Stephanie Henderson Age 16, 5’4” Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, 110lbs. Last seen wearing a brown work uniform, black jacket, white sneakers, and a baseball cap. Reach out to Claudia Henderson or Joyce Byers at #### or #### 

Steve stares with a distant look in his eyes, thumb brushing over her picture. Such a gentle smile for a gentle person. God… why did they have to use that picture? It was right before he–

He frowns, throwing his head back. 

Fuck… 

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the Wheeler’s house, Mike decided to stay home, his parents totally unaware of him doing so. He showed the new girl around his place, acting a bit giggly when they finally got to his room. He was so excited to show off his action figures, and comic books, and anything else that he holds close to his heart. He didn’t even realize she was starting to wander off to where a collection of trophies were. Her brown eyes grew with fascination by them.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year.” Mike’s smile drops just a tad. “Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political.”

Yeah, it totally was that. He expected some kind of reaction from her, except for the one where her eyes widened and she slowly pointed to the picture of Will in their fair picture together.

Mike perked up, hopeful. “You know Will? Did you see him? Last Night? On the road? Did–” He pauses. “Hang on a sec.” Maybe he’s getting his hopes up as he grabs another photo after shifting around in his drawer. It was a picture of his friends’ families at the lake, posing nicely for the camera. 

He points to the girl in the right hand corner. “This is Stephanie. She’s his sister.” He points to Dustin who’s hanging out behind her. “She supposedly gave Will a ride the night he disappeared, and we can’t find her either. Did you see her too?”

The girl studies Steph’s face, slowly the same reaction she had from seeing Will returned as she pointed again. “I–”

Her answer was cut short when they heard something from outside. Mike gets up quickly, peeking through his curtains to see his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. He pales.

“Shit.” He rushes to grab her by the hand and strings her along. “We gotta hide!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Of course the eldest stayed awake for most of the night, the two of them tucked away in the far corner of Will’s room, her eyes trained on the door just in case that wretched monster appeared again. She kept a good grip on the shotgun, one foot planted on the ground for a quick pop up if needed. Adrenaline was pumping in her blood, she was fighting off her exhaustion and hunger, while a tune played on her dry lips.

“♪ Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two. Two. Two

Sleepless nights.

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you. You. You

Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind

If we can’t go on

To survive–♪”

Will stirred beside her, his head resting on her shoulder that was starting to fall asleep, but she refused to jostle the kid. God knows he needs his rest. Well… so does she, but she’ll get around to that. 

Her mind wanders back to the conversation they had last night, the one where Will admitted he spoke to his mother on the phone. Shock wasn’t the right word, especially when she examined the phone that had been burnt black, and when asking again if he heard that right, the youngest Byers swears he did. 

Is there actually a way to communicate to… well… ‘our world’, I guess. She ponders on that thought, wondering if it’s possible to do so without frying your phone to death. Not to mention Will swears he heard people talking before calling his mother. Can we only communicate to the people we ‘hear’? 

She scolds herself. This hurts my head too much.

“♪ –The tide

Love divides

Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways– ♪”

Will stirred again, this time waking up slowly with a groan. “Was it a dream…?” He whispers, his eyes opening at a snail pace.

“I wish.” Steph says, sadly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, rubbing his face.

Her heart skips a beat and a lie slips out. “Uh, yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

“We shouldn’t stay here.” She says, surprising him. “We should probably move around, maybe lose that monster for a while. And you’re probably hungry too, I know my mom keeps cans and bottled water down in our basement for emergencies. That should tie us over for a little while.”

“Is it even safe to go out?” He wonders, yet intrigued. He’ll admit… he is a bit famished. 

“I don’t know. But we got to try. Right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Whoa, whoa. Careful, careful.” Hopper says as he snags his partner by the collar. “I need you alive for the next few days, at least.”

Callahan smirked and scoffed as he gestures to the Quarry below. “Oh, hell, I could survive that.” He said, making his superior laugh. “What? George Burness made the jump. And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet.”

“George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement. Hits you like a ton of bricks.” Hopper smacks his hands together. “Break every damn bone in your body.”

The youngster pondered on that for a second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

[ ‘Chief, you copy?’ ] 

Hopper grabs his walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Flo, talk to me.”

[ ‘Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny’s. I think you need to get there right away.’ ]

And those were words he didn’t want to hear. So he and his team rushed over there as quickly as they could, and the first they were met with was the smell of a rotting corpse. 

“Ugh, Jesus!” Callahan said, covering his nose.

“Suicide?” Powell asked, after a moment of silence. 

Hopper hummed and stared in disbelief at the man laying on the table, pistol in hand and a bullet wound straight through the temple. There’s no way this can be real.

“Missing kid, suicide.” Callahan frowns. “You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief? 

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then.” Hopper replies, this particular moment he almost broke down. “Benny was my friend.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Stephanie peeked outside before gesturing to Will to follow. The two of them had backpacks on that they found lying around, going to use them to fill up with anything they could find – But the task that lay ahead was going to be hard. The task was…

Walking back through Mirkwood to the Henderson home. 

No lights, just a few bullets to spare, and their pure will to survive (Or maybe it’s the fear that’s fueling that will).

“I don’t like this.” Will mutters, only a few minutes after they left the Byers’ driveway and down a few feet on the road. “What if that thing spawns in front of us again?”

“Then we shoot it and book it again. That’s all we can do now.” Steph replies, carefully looking around. But what if he’s right? What if thing actually just spawns out of thin air? Then there’s not telling where and when not to go.

He stays silent, shaking a tad as they make it further down the road. It took a hot minute for the older girl to notice this and stop briefly, the twelve year old’s eyes confused just as she held out her hand. Without missing a beat, his clammy hand takes it, squeezing it tight. She smiles just a tad, reminding her of Dustin before they started walking again.

She felt him hang on to dear life as they strolled into the darkest part of Mirkwood, the eeriness that was silence was making their hearts race. She came to a conclusion after facing the monster last night that she had to be the strong one here. She has to act like the older sister again, and remain calm, and to keep him safe.

I made a promise. I don’t know how to fulfill it just yet, but I’m going to get him out of here. Steph casts a glance down at him, the poor boy’s face looked so cold. Does hers look like that too?

She grins after a quick thought. “Hey–” His eyes locked with hers. “What does a ‘Ranger’ do in D&D? That one sounds intriguing to me.”

His face lights up. “You actually want to play D&D?”

“Hey, you suggested it, I might as well. So, the Ranger? What’s that like? The lore?”

“Well, Rangers are warriors that explore different civilizations, and they hunt down the deadliest of monsters. They’re trained in many different combat techniques, survival skills, and even some magic.”

“Magic? I like the sound of that.”

“They mostly reside in the forest, or anything ‘nature-y’.” 

She chuckles. “I don’t like the sound of that. What else? Aren’t there like… classes… or different types?

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I guess it depends on what you prefer. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I’m all ears.” Steph said, making a motion. I’m just glad he’s stopped shaking.

“Well, there’s a lot. The most common ones are ‘Beast Masters’, which are accompanied with an animal companion. Then there’s ‘Hunters’, which are mainly just professional assassins that take down monsters of all sorts. Now, even though all Rangers have the capability of taking monsters down, Hunters are strictly made just to do that.”

She hums. “Interesting.”

“Then there’s ‘Gloom Stalkers’, who live mostly in dark realms, and take down the shadowy beasts roaming the territory. They’re pretty good at ambushing their opponents.” He smiles. “Personally, I find that the coolest.”

“Well, I can see why. What else? Do Rangers get weapons?” 

“Of course! The most common is a two-blade or archery.”

“Archery sounds cool.”

“See, I agree. But I know Lucas always says it’s ‘stupid’, so–”

Steph shakes her head with a sigh. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong when I play.”

“So you are going to play with us!” Will said, joyfully, like you just told him Christmas was coming early.

“If that’s how I prove Lucas wrong, then so be it. So how does one newbie play D&D?” She asked, hopefully this will keep him occupied. At least I can keep him distracted until we get there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas said, as soon as Mike was done with his explanation for them being here. 

“Just listen to me.” Mike pleads.

“You are out of your mind–”

“She knows about Will and Steph.”

Dustin perks up after being the silent one here. “What do you mean she knows about them?”

Mike grabs the pictures from earlier and holds them up. “She pointed at them, at their picture. She knew they were missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas asked, looking between the pictures and the girl who was on the bed.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where they disappeared?”

Dustin nodded, agreeing. “That is weird.”

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike said, with a frown. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will and Steph. I think she knows what happened to them.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas asked, glaring at her direction before stomping over. “Do you know where they are?” He grabs her by the shoulder. “Do you know where Will and Stephanie are?!” 

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Mike pulls him away, as his friend brushes him off.

“She should be scared! If you know where they are, tell us! This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”

“No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked, his thoughts from earlier about his sister and Will taking a shotgun with them crossed his mind.

Lucas gives him a weird look. “Her name is Eleven?” 

“El for short.” Mike clarifies.

“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin pushes, his stomach turning.

“Danger danger!” The brunette makes a finger gun and points it between Henderson’s eyes before moving over towards Lucas who demises quickly.

“No, no, no!” Sinclair snaps, rushing for the door. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom.”

He pulls open the door only for it to slam shut automatically. Not even batting an eye at that, he tries again, for it to not only to shut with more force but to even lock itself. The boys look back at the only explanation, and they see El standing on her feet with a drop of blood coming out of her nose.

“No.” She said, with a tone that told them not to push it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the station, Hopper was questioning an anxious friend of Benny’s. Earl was his name, and he was sitting in a chair, eyes full of disbelief as he lit a cigarette.

“Just doesn’t make any sense, Chief.”

“You, uh, notice anything odd about him the last few weeks?” Hopper asked, trying to keep it professional (even though this case was hurting him the most). 

Earl shakes his head. “No, we’re fixin’ to go fishing down the Etowah next Sunday. I mean, he was lookin’ forward to it. I know that.”

“He got any enemies you might know about? I mean, people who might not want him around?”

“The exes didn’t like him much. That’s for sure, but… nah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. Lunch, same as always.”

“Just you and the boys?”

“Yep. Me and Henry and…” He pauses. “Well, there was this, uh, this kid. No kid did this.”

“Kid?” Hopper nearly perked up hope. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. At lunch, uh, there was this boy that, uh I mean, he was trying to steal food out of Benny’s kitchen. Can you imagine that?”

Hopper locked eyes with Callahan who got the silent message. “This kid what’d he look like?”

“Well, he was about yea high.” Earl raises his arm up and out. “You know, tiny like. I didn’t get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen.”

“He look like this?” Callahan asked, coming back with a missing kid poster of Will. 

He takes the flier, and immediately shakes his head. “Oh, no, that’s… that’s Lonnie’s missin’ kid. No. This was a different kid. This one had really short hair. I mean, it was buzzed nearly down to the scalp.”

Hopper tries not to let his composure break, and continues to hold on to the slimmer of hope. “Yeah, well, let’s… You know, let’s forget about the haircut. I mean, if this kid had a buzz cut… could it be Lonnie’s kid?”

“Well, I-I… didn’t get a good look at him. About the right height, though. I mean, could’ve been. Yeah, that’s… Could’ve been.”

Hopper frowns, taking the poster back from him. “And, you only saw the boy right? No girl? Teenager? Dark hair?”

“No.” Earl shakes his head once more. “No. I didn’t see a girl.”

The Chief mentally sighs. This is not good.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘A party?’ ]

Finally! Steve thought, pumping his fist. She finally sounded intrigued. He was hoping this would make up for his weird behavior at school. 

And, no, no, no, It wasn’t because of– well… ‘you know who’. Totally not because of her. Totally, totally, totally not–

[ ‘Steve?’ ]

Nancy’s voice broke through his totally not clouded mind. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Yeah, a party. Well… kind of. It’s just going to be me, Tommy H. and Carol. No parents for the whole weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them coming in and ruining the mo-jo.”

Just my friends and my girlfriend. Just having fun, no worries about–

[ ‘Not much of a party with just four people.’ ]

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s a little sad. But you know, it’s better this way. And, you know, if you want to, you can invite Barbara. If it makes you feel more comfortable. Or not. Or you don’t have to come–”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

“Yeah?”

[ ‘I’ll totally come. But I’m going to try to convince Barb first if that’s alright.’ ]

“Yeah, Yeah. Totally. It starts at seven.”

[ ‘Starts at seven. Got it. I’ll see you then.’ ]

He smiles. “See you then. Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ] 

“Yes!” He said, once he hung up the phone. “Finally.” He feels his spirits get lifted again. “This is going to be perfect.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

“Welcome to Mi Casa.” Stephanie said, upon entering her home. Just as gross and dark as Will’s. 

“You said the basement, right?” Will asked, the thought of eating something sounded nice.

“Yep.” 

They thought navigating below “sunlight” was going to be hard, but I guess living in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours had its perks. Finding the tote where the emergency supplies were easier than they thought, their stomachs growing when they saw the cans of food. 

“Hang on second.” Steph said, disappearing back up the stairs for a sec, and then coming back with some forks and a can opener. She uses her shirt to wipe it clean the best she could before using. “Pineapple or Peaches?”

“Pineapple, please.” Will said, drooling as she placed the open can in his hands. The two of them plop down criss-cross applesauce, sighing with relief that they could finally take a rest.

“We’ll have to take what we can, but don’t make your bag too heavy in case we need to run again. Got it?” She replies, sliding over a bottle of water to him too. He nods, and takes a second to chug some liquid too.

One can was enough for now, since none of them had any clue how long they’ll be here, they’ll need to ration what they can find. Food, water, a first aid kit, some mittens and hats, an extra jacket, socks (And Will was proud to find a half box of matches laying around).

“Do we need anything else?” He asked, making her think.

She hums, and feels around her pockets. “We need more ammo. Or another gun at least.”

“Do you have any?” 

“No. I don’t.” She closes her eyes. Now where could we get more nearby? 

But the more she thought about it, the more she dreaded. She does know one place they have a gun, and hopefully still does since it’s been so long. 

She sighs. “I know… one place that has a gun. It’s far though. Really far. It’ll take us a couple hours to get there on foot. But it’s closer than going to town.” 

“If that’s what we have to do, then let’s do it.” Will said, sliding his backpack back on, ready to start their journey again. He flashes her a goofy grin. “I hope I can count this as PE for school.”

If that was a joke to cheer her up then it totally worked. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now that they might have a lead, the police and its volunteers spread out in the woods behind Benny’s diner, hoping to find some good news (For Hopper’s sake he really hopes so). 

“Hey, you think Earl really saw Will?” Callahan asked, trying to keep up with his Boss’ speed. “I mean, what’s he doin’ with a shaved head? And stealing food from Benny?”

“Tell you what, when we find him, we’ll ask.” Hopper replies, with an attitude. 

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” Powell said, getting a glare. Suddenly, one of the volunteers blew a whistle. 

“Hold up! You got something?” Hopper shouted and broke into a sprint. “Hey, what do you got?”

“Not sure.” The person said, crouching down next to a drain. “Maybe nothing. I found this. In there.”

Hopper takes a piece of fabric from his hand, before shining his flashlight through the drain, still hopeful that maybe he was lying in there, scared but safe. 

“No way a kid crawls through there.” Powell said, in denial.

“I don’t know… a scared enough one might. His brother said he was good at hiding.”

“Yeah, but, just Will?” Callahan asked, conflicted. “What happened to Stephanie? ‘Cause there ain’t no way a teenager’s going to fit through this drain pipe.”

“Maybe they separated?” Powell questioned. 

“I’m not so sure about that. Claudia said her daughter would never leave anyone behind.”

“Willingly that is.”

“Come on, you two.” Hopper said, jogging again.

This time, they decided to follow the drain pipe that led them further into the forest. Just as their knees were about to give out, they’re met with an electric fence and a keep out sign for the one and only…

.

.

.

Hawkins Lab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“El?” Mike announces his arrival into the basement. He had just finished having dinner with his family, and even convinced his mom to let his friends stay the night. All part of his plan to figure out what was happening to his missing family.

“No adults. Just us and some meatloaf.” He continues, placing a tray down in front of the makeshift fort, letting her know to come out. Her eyes trail to him and then to the two boys falling behind. “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers.” Dustin said, before getting hit in the leg by Mike. “Ow!”

“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared… earlier. That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friends.” Lucas admitted, feeling a tad guilty for his actions. 

“‘Friends’?” El asked, confused by that word. It was so foreign to her. What does it even mean? 

“Yeah, friends. Will? Steph?”

“What are ‘friends’?” 

Lucas gave her a weird look. “Is she serious?” Henderson shrugged. “Um, a friend–”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for.” Mike cuts in. 

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise.”

“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas also puts in, making sure she was getting it.

“Spit?” El said, tilting her head.

“A spit swear means–” He spits into his palm. “You never break your word.” He holds his hand out for Dustin to take and shake. “It’s a bond.”

Mike nods in agreement. “That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Barbara finally pulls the car over to the side after her friend insisted they stop here. She looks over at the brunette with a strange look. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.”

“We can’t park in the driveway.” Nancy said, making the ginger roll her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

“This is so stupid.” Barb shakes her head. “I’m just gonna drop you off.”

“Calm down, Barb. Come on. You promised that you’d go.” Nancy pleaded with her ‘baby doe’ face. “You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.”

Nancy chuckles with disbelief. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Nance… seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren’t home. Come on, you are not this stupid.”

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there.”

“Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” Barb cringes at the thought. “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I’m serious!”

“All right, well…” Nancy takes her seat belt off and starts unbuttoning her sweater. “You can be, like, my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“Ugh.” Barb said, shaking her head. She watches as her friend takes her top off and starts fiddling around in her purse for another one. “Is that a new bra?”

Nancy pauses. “No.”

“So, obvious, Nancy…”

“Hey.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, watching her sit at their D&D table and close her eyes. 

“El?” Mike said, as they gathered around, waiting.

When she opens her eyes, she slowly gravitates to one of the pieces and picks it up. “Will.” She replies, showing it was the Wizard piece, the one that the boy always plays as.

“Superpowers.” Dustin said, as Lucas rolled his eyes, still not convinced about this whole thing. 

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike asks, just before she brushes the rest of the figures off the board and flips it over. She places the wizard piece on the board. “I don’t understand.”

“Hiding.” She replies, the boys looking at one another. She then places another figure down, surprising them.

“Who is that supposed to be?” Lucas asked, as Dustin perked up.

“The Ranger. Is that Stephanie?” He asked, as she nodded. “Are they hiding?” She nods again. “Together.” Another nod.

“From the bad men?” Mike asked, but she shakes her head in disappointment. “Then from who?”

And without saying another word she places another figure down.

It was a beast with two heads.

.

.

.

The Demogorgon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

It took a while like she said, and luckily they had no trouble getting there, but what was troubling the young boy was that she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. Was she embarrassed by this place? Did something happen? He doesn’t know, but it’s gnawing at him.

“We’ve arrived.” She said, as they were coming up to it.

It was… a pretty big house, much bigger than his and even his friends’ houses. He wonders if this was one of the rich neighbourhoods or something like that. And sure enough… his questions would be answered when he happened to catch the name on the mailbox. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Now he understands why she didn’t say anything. 

“So this is the…” Was he choosing his words correctly? “The King’s house?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, hand on the doorknob which miraculously opened. She rolls her blue eyes. “They still keep it unlocked.” They stepped inside, still gloomy and covered in vines and goo like the last two. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Will follows behind, observing everything that seemed a bit foreign for him. “I knew they were rich but I didn’t know they were that rich.” He said after observing art piece after art piece that he knows isn’t locally made.

“Yeah, they got crazy money.” She said, and her pace seemed to quicken without her noticing. She hustles into the parents room, opening the closet to find a safe. “Shit.” She forgot about the lock. “Where did that bastard put the key?”

Stephanie starts running around the bedroom, pulling open drawers, looking through trinkets, his wife’s jewelry box too – A curse word after every failed attempt.

“Steph?” Will said, worriedly.

“Just give me a second.” She snapped, and left the room. She starts opening the drawers from the tables in the hallway, visibly getting more annoyed with each second. “For fuck sakes–”

“Stephanie!”

“What?!” She slammed it shut, rattling everything that was on. The force and her tone seemed to shock him, and even take a small step back. She grips the table, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Fuck. I just…”

And when she opens them she finds herself staring at the boy she wanted to forget about. It was a picture of him on his swim team, the frame saying: Championship 1981. She just stares at with emotions the youngest Byers couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Steph?” He asked, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to you and Steve?”

She continues to stare at the photo for another minute before pushing herself to stand. “I think he still keeps that knife in his room.” Was what she muttered before heading in the opposite direction to another room. 

Will could only wonder what really happened to them…

.

.

.

Just as the lights started to flicker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

|| PRESENT ||

Inside the most “fabulous” party of the year, Barb laid back in one of the pool chairs, listening to the terrible music that’s blasting in her ear as her best friend watches her boyfriend slice a hole into a beer can and start drinking it all in one go.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy asked, as he sat down and lit a cigarette. 

“You’re not?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised. 

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliche. What with your– your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He hands her the knife and a can.

“Okay.” She says, all giggly.

“You gotta make a little hole right in–”

“I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy said, as he crushes his own can on his forehead. 

Soon, everyone was chanting “Chug” as Nancy down a whole beer in under thirty seconds. Everyone cheered and laughed, proud at the achievement. 

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, holding the blade up.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” She said, shaking her head. But after a quick back and forth badgering she finally gave in. She rips the items out of the girl’s hand, clearly upset. It wasn’t long before her judgment was clouding her mind and accidentally nicks herself. 

“Whoa, Gnarly.” Tommy said, impressed by the deep cut.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worriedly.

“Yeah.” Barb said, trying to push her away. 

“Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s– Steve stands up, and starts taking her over to the sliding door. “It’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He frowns. Shit of course.

But before he could say anything, Tommy had pushed Carol into the pool and then jumped in after her. Steve then shrugs, and lets a smirk play on his face as he does the same to Nancy before doing a cannonball.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

Steph tries to contain herself as she enters his room. It was taking a lot of strength not to just start flipping things over, and tear those stupid pendants off the wall.

Stupid fucking house. Stupid fucking room. Stupid fucking Harrington. She grits her teeth, fighting back the tears in her eyes as she desperately tries to remember where he hid the blade.

She lets out a groan. “For fuck sake’s, man! Where did you put it?!” She yells, and kicks whatever was near her. She swears something must have fallen out from it, but she doesn’t even want to look. 

God damn you, Harrington. She scolds, and rubs her face. How can he–

That’s when the light in his room flickered on and off scaring her half to death. “What the–”

“Stephanie!” Will’s voice shouted, kicking her into high gear.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, and races to find that blade.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

As soon as Barb comes out of the bathroom, she immediately spots a certain someone heading up the stairs. “Nance! Nancy.” She shouts, getting her to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” Nancy said, feeling like she was on cloud nine. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance–”

“Barb, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t you.”

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?” 

And then Nancy leaves her all alone, confused and heartbroken by her friend’s actions. But despite being hurt, she couldn’t just up and leave her drunken buddy like this. So… 

She decides to wait.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Steve had found her some clothes she could change in, and he was grinning like a kid upon the thought of seeing his girlfriend in his clothes. 

I’m such a dork. He tells himself as she calls out his name. “Yeah?” There was a look in her eyes that he’s never seen before, and honestly was turned on by it.

But ‘Fuck that’, says the universe, and the home phone starts to ring.

He groans, irritated. “Hang on a second–” He proceeds to run out of the room, and shouts, “Hey! Turn the music down in case it’s my parents.”

Nancy chuckles, cheeks flush because she was ready to lose her– wait. Did something just touch her leg? She looks down to find that a box was tipped over and had opened, and wonders when that happened. Did she accidently kick it without realizing? Or was it already like that? Frankly, curiosity got the best of her as she crouched down to try to fix it. But then, her actions slowed when she saw something.

The Wheeler picks up a paper – a flier – to her surprise was the missing poster of Stephanie Henderson. 

“What?” She says, quietly, confusedly. Why was he keeping this? And that’s when she puts two and two together. She starts shifting through the small pile which was made up of photos, movie tickets, receipts from a record store, arcade tokens and– “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, Steve comes jogging back in, relief on his face. “False alarm. It was just–”

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

His face falls immediately. “Hey, that’s–”

“Is she the person that was rumored you pushed away?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve replies, trying to take the stuff away from her, but she ain’t budging.

“It’s nothing, or she’s nothing?”

“It’s– W-What? You jealous?” He asked, trying to play this thing off cool, but his girlfriend wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

“I…” Why couldn’t he fucking talk all of a sudden? “I didn’t, I–”

“So, she broke it off?” She said, eyebrow raised. 

“No. I-I broke it off, she didn’t do anything–”

“So… why did you?”

“Nancy–”

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–” 

Now it was her turn to look lost (and for Steve to lose all the color in his face). She frowns, slowly pulling out a small casing. “Is this a… bullet?”

“That’s nothing!” He manages to snag at least that away.

“Why do you have a bullet in the box?!” She asks, eyes blown wide.

He swallows. “Nancy–”

“Did you shoot her or something?”

“What?!” He scoffs. “No! Why would I shoot her?!”

“Well did she shoot you?”

“No! Nobody shot anybody, it was just–”

“Then why do you have a stray bullet cas–”

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…” He sighs and grabs the box, holding it out for her to put the stuff away.

It takes her a moment to process it all, and she does put all the stuff in her hands away, but she remains silent the whole time. She’s never seen him act this way before.

It honestly concerned her.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Nancy gestures to him and says, “Well, for starters, you’re an airhead and–”

“So?” He cuts in, as she holds her tongue and continues. 

“And you’re arrogant, snarky, and sweet–”

“Sweet’s fine.”

“Of course. Sweet’s fine. I love how nice you are to me, Steve.” She then frowns for him. “However, that gets overshadowed by your… insecurities.”

He pauses, now it was his turn to take in those words (What the hell did she mean by that? He’s not… no). “I don’t… I don’t have any… any–”

“Steve.” Nancy takes a step closer. “I don’t know why the kid in these pictures decided to change into the one I’m seeing before me, but if that doesn’t have to do with any insecurities, then I’m not sure why you decided to make that change willingly.”

“I… W-Willingly?” He scoffs again. “What do you mean? I never change willingly? What are you even getting at, Nance?” He hasn’t changed. He’s never changed. What is she even getting at?

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

And Steve’s left with an epiphany he’s not sure he can decipher. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW || 

As soon as the lock was broken, she retrieved the gun from the safe and frantically told her companion to get down the stairs. Will and Steph’s hearts were in their ears, and it sped up when the light above the front door flickered.

“Shit–” She pulls the boy to a halt, and redirects them to the back door. “Go, go, go, go, go.” 

She throws open the sliding door, and out into the backyard, but as soon as they step foot onto the ground, the lights around the empty pool start to flicker. The two of them stopped immediately and held their breaths. They weren’t sure where the beast was at, but it was definitely nearby ready to snatch them up.

They were afraid to even breathe or twitch. What if this thing really does appear out of thin air?

They both jolted when a loud growl came from somewhere inside the pool. Wasting no time, Steph taps Will on the arm and makes a shushing gesture, then waves him to follow her. The boy understood completely, and the two of them move slowly, so carefully that there’s not way–

The both of them screamed when two human hands grabbed onto the top of the pool ladder. 

A girl’s head poked up, face battered and covered in grime, her glasses shattered and splattered with blood. The girl looked so fam–

“Nancy!!” She shouts, as something growls behind her, scaring all of them to their core. And when her eyes landed on the two of them, she desperately yelled for help just seconds before the beast’s claws wrapped around her head and pulled her back. 

Will and Steph matched the girl’s scream, and the beast roared in delight that his prey was just right in front of it. Its claws could be seen grabbing the ladder, like it was trying to crawl out and feast.

That’s when the two of them booked it. 

The guns rattled in their hands.

The tears in their eyes.

Whatever this place was, they knew…

.

.

.

This couldn’t get compared to hell itself.

(TBC)

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan’s Crash Course in Becoming Trump

After a long tour of duty in the Marvel universe, the Romanian-born actor is conquering the festival circuit, with starring roles in “The Apprentice” and “A Different Man.”

Illustration by João Fazenda

By Alex Barasch

The actor Sebastian Stan glanced approvingly at the neon signage and old-school menus at the Pearl Diner, in the financial district, the other day. He’s lived in and near New York since he was twelve—around the time Donald Trump swapped his first wife, Ivana, for Marla Maples—and has watched the city evolve. “It’s funny. It’s changed, but it’s also the same buildings,” he said. “And then you’re, like, ‘The buildings are there, but you are not the same.’ ”

Stan took off a white ball cap and ordered coffee with cream; he was jet-lagged, fresh from the Deauville American Film Festival, where he’d received the Hollywood Rising-Star Award. “Rising” is a stretch for the forty-two-year-old, who’s appeared in a dozen Marvel projects, but Stan has lately reached a different echelon. In May, he went to Cannes for “The Apprentice,” in which he plays seventies-era Trump. In Berlin, he’d won the Silver Bear, an award whose previous recipients include Denzel Washington and Paul Newman. “Everyone was, like, ‘Oh, the Silver Bear!’ ” Stan said. “Then you go back and you’re, like, ‘Do we know what the Silver Bear is in America?’ ”

The prize was for his role in “A Different Man,” Aaron Schimberg’s surreal black comedy, which nods to “Cyrano de Bergerac.” Stan stars as a man whose lifelong disfigurement is miraculously reversed; the shoot included a grisly three-and-a-half-hour session spent peeling off chunks of his face.

“The Apprentice” demanded a transformation of a different sort. At the diner, Stan pulled out his phone and swiped through an album labelled “DT physicality”—a hundred and thirty videos of Trump, which capture his tiniest gestures and his over-all mien. Marinating in Trump content was, Stan said cheerfully, “a psychotic experience.” He watched the clips so many times that when the director, Ali Abbasi, asked him to improvise in a scene about marketing Trump Tower, he could rattle off the stats: sixty-eight stories of marble in a peachy hue chosen by Ivana, because, as the real Trump put it in a promo, “people feel they look better in the pink.” (It turned out that he’d also memorized Trump’s lie: the tower is actually fifty-eight floors.)

Growing up in Communist Romania, Stan had just an hour of TV news each night; New Year’s Eve was an event because it meant twelve hours of programming. His instinct for mimicry—he had a habit of imitating family members and neighbors—was the earliest tell that he might be an actor. After he and his mother fled to Vienna, in 1989, Stan got his first credit, in a Michael Haneke film—an experience that nearly put him off show business. “I stood in line with, like, a thousand kids, for I don’t know how many hours—which I hated,” he said. “If I could fucking meet Haneke now, it would be amazing!”

When the family moved again, to America, he experienced pop-culture shock. He binged every movie he’d missed—from “Back to the Future” to “Ace Ventura”—in a pal’s basement. Another friend roped him into the school play. “My high school was really, really small, so I didn’t have a lot of competition,” Stan said. “They were, like, ‘Please be in the play!’ ” Soon he was playing Cyrano himself.

After stints on Broadway, and on “Gossip Girl,” Stan was scooped up by Marvel. “I’ve been lucky to play a character for fifteen years,” he said. The blockbuster paychecks freed him up to explore edgier material. “I, Tonya,” in which he played the ice-skater Tonya Harding’s dirtbag husband, was a turning point. “It allowed me to see that a good director will bring out more in you than you can,” Stan said. It was also his first time portraying a real person—a feat that he repeated in “Pam & Tommy,” as the Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee, and now in “The Apprentice.”

“It’s like learning a piece of music,” Stan said, of nailing an impression. “You’ve got to start out slow—it requires practice. Suddenly, you’re getting it more. You’re still making mistakes—but you’re playing the music. You’re playing the music every day until you can do it in your sleep. That’s when the fun starts.” He sliced the air for emphasis, then caught himself and grinned. “And sometimes it’s months later at a diner, and you’re, like, ‘Why am I doing that with my hands?’ ”

[lelengerine]

hi omg I'm so glad you're back I love love ur works!!! I was wondering if u could do an arranged marriage au with jaemin for ur drabble event? I love ur blog sm!! 🥹🫶

waiting

pairing | prince!jaemin x princess!reader

genre | royalty + arranged marriage au, reader thinks she’s hallucinating at one point, jaemin uses nickname (princess) on reader, lmk if i missed anything !!

wc | 0.9k

notes | ahh thank u for the kind words anonie <3 i added in the royalty au just to push the idea a little hehe hope u dont mind !! also i apologize for the drabble reqs being tended to so slowly,, i had an event over the weekend but i’ll be working on the rest of them now :D likes, rbs, and feedback on this is highly appreciated :]

this is part of my drabble req event here!

m.list

the banquet hall filled with people waltzing about is also the place you stand in, the sight of the cheery crowd unable to lift your own mood.

a feast had been prepared in your name by your father, the king. letters filled with news he wished to share flew across the country, landing in the palms of esteemed guests who were carefully chosen to attend.

and though the event was meant for you, every minuscule detail was akin to a bleak forest in your eyes — a place filled with more unknowns than none.

the sharp clink of a glass garners your attention back to your father, a miraculous smile displayed on his lips, the happiest you’ve ever seen him be.

“at last, the time has come where the news i am to share may finally spread to every soul in the kingdom.” he begins proudly, gesturing you to come forward into the spotlight alongside him. “my lovely child is to be wed to the neighboring kingdom, and a new era of peace will be witnessed by all.”

a mix of gasps and cheers emerge from the crowd, yet their reactions were rather lackluster in comparison to your features frozen in place as if time had stopped, all except your lips that quiver at your father’s statement.

you turn away from the crowd, an empty laugh resounding out of your chest. “f-father? surely, this is all a jest?”

“peace will never be something to fool around with, dear. you, amongst all others, should know this by now.” your father speaks to you lowly, the look in his eyes relaying all that is needed to be said. “sacrifices are key to this nation. you are soon to be their queen, you understand where i’m coming from, yes?”

the sheer bewilderment in your mind leads you to nod your head almost instantaneously like an order had just been placed, yet your heart seems to sink further into a place out of your reach.

“who?” is all you weakly utter, defeated by the king’s resolve for a united peace between kingdoms.

“ah, i actually invited over the young man you are to wed. i supposed you ought to know who you’ll be spending a lifetime with, after all.” the words he tells you are all void of empathy, and you’re not sure if that breaks the little spirit left in you.

his gaze then lands on a servant who seems to already know what to do just from a simple motion. you stand in silence beside your father, waiting for the feeling of dread to pass you by, but it never does, and you're greeted by a voice instead.

a new figure stands before you, hair neatly styled with gel, yet the sleekness of his current appearance doesn’t hide the youthful gleam in his eyes. in fact, that very characteristic strikes you familiar, but you can’t pinpoint when you’ve seen it before.

“greetings, princess. my name is na jaemin.” he bows politely, and the name brings back memories in waves that flood your mind.

the na jaemin? the jaemin that picked flowers with you in the royal garden when you used to sneak out of tutoring sessions? the jaemin who offered you baked tarts when he so happened to find you sobbing in the corner of your room? the na jaemin who spoke to you with the gentlest of smiles?

“it seems you haven’t forgotten me yet, i hope?” he chuckles, and you’re not sure how to respond just yet.

all this time you believed he was one of the royal gardeners who eventually quit because you stopped seeing him around, yet here he was as the prince of another kingdom?

this can’t be right, he couldn’t be the one standing in front of you this very instance. you couldn’t even formulate the questions that float in your mind, struggling to catch each word and piece them together.

instead you take a step back, pausing momentarily before rushing towards the nearest exit, cursing the heavens for making you wear dainty heels that do absolutely nothing but hinder your movement. the peaceful gardens around you replace the overbearing grandeur of the banquet hall, creating a sense of eagerness in you that doesn’t let it take long for you to stagger in step, spraining your ankle in the process.

sure, there was a slight wince in each step now, but at least you were out of the grand hall that appeared more overwhelming to you than not. you manage to find a stone bench nearby, taking a seat to check on your injury.

“i thought i’d find you here.” the same person you’ve tried running away from manages to catch up with you — albeit it wasn’t too difficult in the first place — with a solemn expression on his face. “let me take a look.”

you’re apprehensive to take up his offer, but he kneels down before you could even agree on it to assess the damage inflicted upon your ankle. “it doesn’t look too bad. you’ll be alright in no time, princess-”

“why are you helping me?” you cut him off, gazing further past the gardens, anywhere but at him, and he takes note of it.

“because you’re to be my wife.” jaemin’s response is expected, yet it leaves you with disappointment.

“the title is but meaningless anyways.” you murmur softly as the sight you’ve been scanning slowly makes its way to where he’s tending to your ankle. “it’s not like you love me.”

his ministrations come to a pause at your words, head peering up to meet your gaze with a smile that you've unknowingly been wanting to properly see again in so long. “but i did, and i still do.”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Fluffvember Day 5 - “You do not know how to cook, do you?”

It had been a long stretch of days. The men had managed to actually keep up with a group of Yiga they were hunting, eliminating them and gathering more intel. According to the most recent reports, their boys had traveled through a portal the Yiga leader had created, worrying the fathers.

What if it had been a trap? They’d traveled through a portal recently, stumbling upon a pirate and his own Hero. Thankfully, they’d spared that child from the same fate as their own sons, but if there was another one…

Abel chewed on his lip anxiously, eyes analyzing the area as if he would suddenly find a trace of his son. But so far, the boys had evaded recapture and were holding their own, and the latest report indicated his son was still, miraculously, alive.

This led to a new dilemma, though.

“For the last time, I said no,” Abel snapped as Rusl once more brought up the idea of taking a break for the rest of the day. “Do you have any idea how close we are?”

“No. I don’t.” Rusl argued. “We caught our objective, and the information we got indicates that they’re doing okay. We have no idea where this portal is that the report mentions, only that they were spotted by another Yiga team.”

“The phrasing is strange for their typical reports,” Fierce noted, reading it once more. “They indicate they don’t entirely trust the team they received the information from.”

Abel looked at the journal, peeking around the deity’s arm. The phrasing that other team was a bit odd.

An unsettling conclusion settled in his stomach. “They probably weren’t the same Yiga.”

Rusl and Fierce glanced at him, and he elaborated, “That dungeon gave us a means of traveling to different eras of Hyrule. Clearly they have a similar tool - the gate we traveled through was one of their making, not ours, and they were attempting to capture another Hero. That stands to reason that they likely ran into Yiga who are not part of their original plan or era, but who are helping them.”

“How long have the Yiga been around?” Rusl asked.

“Long enough,” Abel grumbled, glancing around once more.

Fierce hummed thoughtfully before snapping the journal shut. “The portals have a magical energy that I can track, but I do not sense any nearby. This is not likely something we will find before the day’s end.”

“So we should stick to my original suggestions,” Rusl noted.

Abel rolled his eyes. “We do not need to take a break! We should at least make some headway—”

“What headway, Abel?” Rusl interrupted. “We’ve been tracking and hunting for four days with little to no rest. I did not argue the point as it was necessary, but now it is not! We will never find that portal if we wear ourselves out unnecessarily.”

“Do you often just lounge around while your son is missing?” Abel snapped.

“No. I didn’t.” The Ordonian replied coldly, and his phrasing made Abel pause—had his son been kidnapped before? “But I knew when to recognize he was safe.”

“Be at peace,” Fierce intoned, pointing ahead. “There is a settlement. We can obtain information there while also recovering our strength.”

Abel sighed, knowing better than to argue any further. A brief interrogation of the locals indicated there was no portal or strange activity in the area, but by then the sun was kissing the horizon and Rusl refused to let the group leave.

There wasn’t really much in the way of an inn or taverns, leaving the men to fend for themselves for food. Abel usually cooked for the group, having automatically taken up that duty, but he had no appetite and was instead pacing restlessly at the edge of town, worrying about his child.

So Rusl picked up the slack.

Abel could be appreciative of someone putting in the effort, even if the end result was unsatisfactory. Despite his high standards, he at least tried to be reasonable.

However, when he smelled something burning, and he worriedly made his way back to the others to find Fierce and Rusl huddled over a cooking pot, black, charred remains of something staring back at them pitifully… he found himself lacking in warm sentiments.

“You really cannot cook, can you?” Abel noted dully.

Rusl made to argue his point when what was left of the food spontaneously erupted into flames. Rusl quickly threw a lid on top of the pot, suffocating the flames and leaving the three men coughing on what smoke remained.

Fierce hesitantly lifted the lid despite Rusl’s protests, but the flames seemed to have been choked out. He grabbed the ladle and poked at the ashes.

“This hardly seems edible,” he noted.

“I would have never guessed,” Abel quipped, and Rusl sighed heavily.

“I’ll try again,” the Ordonian grumbled. “I can at least make something edible—”

“No, you’ve done enough damage,” Abel interrupted, wondering how in the world either of these men survived on their own. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Then I can at least prep the ingredients,” Rusl argued. “I’m not being useless, especially since I’m the one who suggested we stay here. I know you wanted to keep searching, Abel.”

The former knight watched the blacksmith a moment before glancing away, trying to let his annoyance drain out of him. “You’re right. I did want to keep searching. But it’s pointless to argue the fact now. I know… I know you want to find your son as much as I want to find mine.”

“We must ascertain a way to help your son, as well,” Fierce added. “After all, he is grievously wounded, is he not? I have marked locations for the great fairies we’ve encountered so far.”

Abel stared at the deity, caught off guard. He… well, he knew Fierce wasn’t necessarily cruel, but he certainly was aloof and focused mostly on his own child. For him to even be considering such a thing…

“Now, let’s focus on eating,” Rusl said gently. “I think we’ll all be a lot less grouchy if we do. I’ll cut everything up.”

Abel sighed, accepting the help, and the men set out to making dinner once more in amicable silence, and after they’d feasted, the three were chuckling and speaking as the friends they were once more.

[charmwasjess]

Sifo-Dyas Wasn’t Supposed to Die: or The Worst Theory Ever 

“All the things you should have stopped, but you didn’t, and nothing will ever be right again. And the things you’ve done,” he whispered. “By the pitiless stars, the things you’ve done…” -Dooku (on Dooku), Yoda: Dark Rendezvous by Sean Stewart

Theory: Dooku killed Sifo-Dyas not because it was planned, but to stop Sidious chucking his former best friend alive into a Jedi-torturing cave to use him as a vision-powered early warning system for his prequel era plots. (A horrible detail not of my own invention, but the exact fate Yoda sees happening to Sifo-Dyas in the Clone Wars episode where he has that Sidious-created vision.)

Anyway, STRAP IN FOR MY WORST IDEA EVER. I hear you. I hear you. Oh Jess, does your Dooku apologist garbage know no limits?! But I’m not giving Dooku a pass here, even if this is a somewhat more palatable version of events than Dooku just killing Sifo-Dyas because Sidious said so, depending on your interpretation of palatable. I realize this sounds like a stretch, but I hope I have convincing-enough evidence to back up my claims and show my work. I really believe that some things which make utterly no sense in the whole Dooku Murders Sifo-Dyas to Take Over the Clone Plot story arc suddenly become actually reasonable, or at least more clear, if you look at it all through the lens of this possibility.

Killing Sifo-Dyas Makes No Sense (for anybody)

Let’s be real: Sifo-Dyas’s murder fucking sucks, and this is even by Dooku’s admittedly poor murder standards. It’s both bad and stupid; you push even lightly on the plan with logic and it falls apart. 

For some reason, instead of killing this important person who could ruin all his plans himself, Dooku hires some criminals he doesn’t even trust (apparently for good reason, as they turn around and keep evidence to blackmail him) to do the job. The logistics of this are further complicated and stupid: Sifo-Dyas isn’t even supposed to be where he ends up getting killed; he’s unexpectedly off on a different side mission from the mission he’s originally on. That would imply that this was something of a crime of opportunity, instead of something Dooku spent a long time meticulously planning - something of a relief, since Dooku would have to be trying to do a worse job at this. There’s even a civilian witness to the attack who, of course, survives. 

Miraculously, the crash does manage to kill Sifo-Dyas (perhaps the only successful part of the whole fucking plot) but then, they move his corpse, so if this is a whole “stage a believable crash death to hide the murder element and buy time for the Clone Wars plot” thing, it’s missing a pretty key component. Then they further fuck that up by forgetting to take his very distinctive lightsaber out of the crash site, definitely linking Sifo-Dyas to whatever happened there. As a cherry on top of this disastrous murder sundae, Dooku then can’t resist Jedi Funeral burning Sifo’s body, in front of a bunch of fucking witnesses no less. He probably uglycried in front of them too, but now this is just my speculation.

But even if the murder was perfectly executed, WHICH IT WASN'T, killing Sifo-Dyas creates a tangible link back to Dooku, from the physical evidence to the established association between the characters - a trail of breadcrumbs Anakin and Obi-Wan are easily able to follow back as is explored in the Clone Wars “Lost One” episode. And Dooku knows better; he used to be a Jedi who helped with Jedi death investigations, as we see in Tales. Killing Sifo-Dyas opens up a whole host of “whys” and extra attention at a time when the Sith need what happened on Kamino to stay very quiet. 

And why murder someone who is already actively working with you? Especially when Sifo-Dyas needs the clones to stay secret too? Dooku seems already to have had everything he needed in terms of access to the Kaminoans, as he’s able to successfully pull off the plan without Sifo-Dyas after his death. He’s also the one with the money, he’s got the connection to Jango; he could have easily gone behind his back. And furthermore, Sifo-Dyas trusted him - seemingly a large narrative reason for bothering to detail their long friendship and history of trying to change vision outcomes. Books like Dooku: Jedi Lost do a lot of work to establish that Sifo-Dyas could have had reason to go to Dooku in good faith and expect him to listen. 

Keeping Sifo-Dyas Alive Makes Sense (for Sidious)

This idea about the Sith Torture cave is not my random invention. Sidious uses a vision of Sifo-Dyas trapped for 12 years in a Jedi-torturing cave to fuck with Yoda – and let’s be real, probably also Dooku, who does not look like he’s having a good time in this episode. In fact, Sidious used Dooku’s blood as a ritual component to CREATE the vision. (There being enough love/bond/connection left in Dooku’s blood to use it to attack Yoda after he’s been a Sith for 12 years is probably another horrible post.) But this seems to establish the alternative cave scenario for Sifo-Dyas as something that both Sidious and Dooku have at least thought about, and are still thinking about, years after his death, and powerfully enough to weave it into a vision.

And can you imagine how interested Sidious is in Sifo-Dyas’s powers, especially if they’re offering spoiler trailers for all of his favorite plans? He is very interested in prophecy, the future, and arguably uses some of those aspects in his manipulation of Anakin. Sifo-Dyas represents both a great threat and a great opportunity to a Sith Lord whose multi-tentacle plans are endlessly convoluted, and by their very nature require multiple contingency plans. How advantageous to have someone around whose one weird power is seeing alternative possible futures?

Keeping Sifo-Dyas alive but captive removes the only other person who knows the exact details about the Clone plot while preserving something potentially very valuable to Sidious. And there’s a further positive: a problem with the whole secret weapon clone army situation is that they need to be revealed at the pivotal moment in the new war. Someone trusted needs to tell the Jedi Council about the Clone Army and convince them to use them in the crisis. Who better to do this than producing beloved, missing Master Sifo-Dyas (who ten years of torture in a Sith cave has made very cooperative and corrupted indeed) to reveal the army to the Republic? 

In Conclusion

But... Sifo-Dyas was his best friend, once, and Dooku chokes. Sentimentality, if not outright lingering love, is a flaw for Dooku as a Sith, and one he trips over repeatedly throughout his atrocities. And we can’t confuse this with actual valor. He doesn’t try to save Sifo-Dyas, only give him a less insanely brutal fate. He orders his death, and it’s a sloppy rush job for all the reasons you might expect from a sudden change of plan, and possibly, the need to kill him before Sidious figured out what he was actually doing. This might even explain him using a third party to do the job: he has plausible deniability to say “well, I ordered them to capture him, but they fucked it up.” Which of course, they did. 

Bonus Round

This theory would also explain two lingering clues we have about Sifo-Dyas’s death involving the behavior of the two guilty participants around the topic:

Dooku

Dooku is really putting the “lie” in “unreliable narrator” during this era, so it can be difficult (and perhaps foolish) to look too deeply into his reactions. But I think it’s fair to say that Dooku acts “pretty fucking weird” about Sifo-Dyas’s death.

In the Lost One episode, he makes an impassioned appeal to Obi-Wan about joining him (a favorite topic of Dooku’s), claiming that Sifo-Dyas understood what he was doing and worked with him willingly. This conversation is only taking place because they caught Dooku in the literal fucking act of covering up evidence of Sifo-Dyas’s murder. It’s not like anyone is unclear about what they’re doing here. Dooku knows. Obi-Wan and Anakin know. Dooku knows that they know. And yet, he still, seemingly genuinely, wants to tell them that Sifo-Dyas sought him out and worked with him. “Join me, just like this guy I ended up murdering” is not a great argument, and Dooku has to know that. So what is the source of his doublethink on this topic? What’s the detail he’s holding onto that’s letting him keep his elaborate palace of denial intact here?

In Tales of the Jedi, Dooku makes an unclear, brief, stammering mention of Sifo-Dyas in the list of the things he’s done for Sidious, and yet killing Yaddle outright is an obvious difficult struggle for him, and narratively shown as a clear before/after moment for Dooku’s fall. The Sith ghost version of Dooku in the Yoda comic outright calls her his first kill. (Lol, Ramil Serenno would like a word.) But you’d think murdering his former best friend who was actively working with him would be a bigger deal? There's this pattern where it almost seems as if Dooku thinks about what happened to Sifo-Dyas differently than his other kills, as if he has some reason to think what he did was less bad or more necessary, even insisting on repeating the absurd “we were working together” narrative when it really has lost relevance in light of how that ended up.

Sidious

Sidious is as onscreen physically violent to Dooku as we ever see him in non-Legends canon in the Lost One Sifo-Dyas episode. He goes into the conversation angry and ends up choking Dooku out over holocomm. If Dooku did, as we assume, exactly what Sidious wanted him to in killing Sifo-Dyas back 10-12 years ago, why does he come into that conversation so violently furious and willing to outright hurt Dooku in a way that he doesn't over other mistakes?

Bonus Bonus Round

In season 5, I suspect the reason we got Sifo-Dyas being tortured in the Sith cave in Yoda’s vision was because Clone Wars was going to make this reveal (and make it so that this was indeed Sifo-Dyas’s fate in the new canon), storyboard or animated part of it, and then decided not to and recycled the images for Yoda’s vision. My pure speculation, but it would fit with their pattern of unused/scrapped/recycled Clone Wars storylines.

*

That’s it! That’s all! You can’t get the time you spent reading this post back, but now this horrible theory lives in your head too. 

[cal-1maf]

The Andurien Guards I ran in last night's game! ilClan era, 8k BV, King of the Hill, 3 players. We'll call the other players the Canopians and the Capellans. The variants I ran are:

Stalker II STK-9A 4/4 Wraith TR1 3/3 Vindicator VND-3Lr 3/4 Thunderbolt TDR-10M 3/4

We deployed from our respective sides and I immediately pushed the Stalker, with its hardened armor, towards the hill, flanked by the Thunderbolt and Vindicator. Ended movement in light woods for all 3. My Wraith circled around to harass a Capellan Archer while the Capellans pushed the objective with an Axman and a Raven. Canopians pushed forward with their Banshee, supported by a Valkyrie, Crusader, and Nightsky. The Stalker took fire from all sides, but miraculously succeeded its piloting roll to stay standing.

Next turn my Anduriens continued to push with the Stalker and Thunderbolt, while the Vindicator took an overwatch position. The Wraith continued to keep its TMM high by circling around to pester the Capellans' final 'Mech: a Marauder II. That exchange went in favor of the Wraith, scoring all hits with its weapons and knocking the Marauder down with a well placed kick... however it did receive a kick in return which stripped the armor from its left leg. The Stalker continued to take fire from all sides, but made it just inside the objective zone before failing its pilot roll and falling.

Things closed to a brawl in the third turn with the Stalker finding its feet and blasting the Capellan Axman with a full suite of medium lasers. The Axman miraculously stayed standing even as it took fire from the Vindicator, Thunderbolt, and the Canopians' Banshee. The Wraith kept circling the battlefield, this time harassing the Canopian Crusader while the Capellans' Raven stripped the armor from the Thunderbolt's back.

The Fourth round saw the end of the Stalker. It had taken several head shots from the Archer's missiles... a final headshot from the Banshee's gauss rifle was just enough damage even with the hardened armor to take its head clean off. Though the Stalker II has a torso-mounted cockpit, it did lose all of its sensors and we decided it was out of the fight.

The Vindicator pushed the hill and the Wraith made the tactical mistake of pursuing a Nightsky into heavy woods. The Wraith was fine, but missed all its shots. The Thunderbolt took a beating and the Banshee and Axman killed each other: the Banshee fell to a headshot and the Axman to an ammo explosion.

The final round ended with my Thunderbolt's pilot unconscious in the objective zone and still accruing points, my Vindicator just inside the zone, and my Wraith again being a menace to the Marauder II. The final point tally ended up:

Canopus with 12 points

Andurien with 9 points

Capella with 8 points

Overall I think this was a great lance and I would run it again! However, I'd choose a different Thunderbolt variant. the 10M's mix of Heavy, snub nose, and light PPCs made its range brackets a mess and it wasn't able to bring its full firepower to bear in a close quarters fight.

[changingplumbob]

Only a couple new plague spots, the ones I already had are at the horrific stage. If they could please begone so I could get my appetite back that would be great.

The morning was good, did I mention the dietician told me to have coconut yogurt? It was after asking if I liked any vegan cheese (have not found good vegan cheese yet) so I assume it's for calcium? But yeah mix that with my muesli, almond milk and pineapple and it felt like eating dessert for breakfast. I put the Eras Tour on the TV while I was writing some cutesy flirty dialogue and just generally felt in a good mood which was nice, I've missed being in a good mood.

Then this afternoon I moved on to some more Glenn posts, meeting three other spellcasters and a horse. Anyway at this second I have a week's worth of stuff queued which, considering I only had two days of stuff two days ago, feels almost miraculous.

[sailormew4]

Fanfic Writer Interview

Thankyouuu to @earthtodora for the tag!!

Tagging: @m34gs and @vulpixen

wow this one is a bit long oops.

How many works do you have on ao3?

I have 28 works currently on ao3!

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Outside In: One, if not the first BNHA fic I uploaded. I'm honestly surprised this one is the one that made start to get known in the BNHA fic atmosphere. The plot is based on that one Teen Titans episode where Beast Boy and Cyborb go into Raven's mind. This time, Bakugo, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Iida go into Midoriya's mind. This is BakuDeku Fic. Fun Fact: This is actually the first time I did something like this, in fact I did something similar for the Voltron fandom right here on Tumblr. Status: Complete

Add Water: THIS IS MY SECOND MOST KUDOS FIC? So context: This is an H2O: Just Add Water x Voltron crossover fic. The premise is Lance is the grandson of Cleo and Lewis from the original H2O series. It's still canon compliant so he's in space trying to hide his mermaid secret from everyone. Gosh, this right season three I wrote this, I haven't touched this fic since 2018 (Voltron Depression am I right?). I might actually go back to my VLD fics. This one does contain Klance. Status: Ongoing.

Mariposa: A MIRACULOUS FIC? DAMN I DIDN'T TOUCH THIS SINCE 2019! So, typical Marinette gets akumatized cause GOD DAMN IT I STILL NEED THIS! I want her to reach her villain era lowkey and give Chat Noir the spotlight he STILL deserves. Status: Ongoing

Friendship in Flames and Curses - OHOHO! Now this one I hoped would be in top five. This is simply a crossover between Blue Exorcist and Jujutsu Kaisen. Rin gets taken by Sorcerers by mistakenly being seen as Curse User. Him and Itadori becomes BESTIES! The comments in this became so crazy, I recently finished this not too long ago on 11/18/24. No focused romantic relationships until the sequel (currently in the works). But I love this fic SO MUCH. Status: Complete

Forget About Love: - Oh my gosh, I'm exposing my Klance Days. This is probably one of the few Klance fics I finished. The premise is after Keith leaves for the Blade of Marmora, Lance is hurt and misses him to the point he takes a potion to make him forget the hurt which makes him forget Keith and his love for him - which fundamentally changes for the worse. Fun Fact: The title comes from an Aladdin 2 song, but the premise is inspired by an episode from the show of Once Upon a Time. Status: Complete.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I LOVE responding to comments. I used to reply every chance I got to them, but took only replying after I update the fic. I got tired of constantly getting comments to update. But, I always screenshot my favorite comments.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angriest ending?

... define angry ending? Cause I can tell you which fic I wrote with the most anger? I always strive to have happy endings, maybe bittersweet. But the only one I can confidently say I wrote in anger was my fix-it fic for Voltron Season 8 End to a Beginning. That shit I wrote almost 22k words from spite from the finale. I still plan to update it cause I was really excited but uh chapter two is still kicking my ass.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, almost all of them have a happy ending. I would say the most happy would be either JJK x Blue Exorcist fic cause its a happy note and had a pretty humorous ending, but there is also my UsaMamo fic Homey Touches where Mamoru realizes Usagi makes his home.

Do you write crossovers?

HA! Did you read my top five? Two of them ARE crossover fics, well they're more AU adjacent kinda. You'll see what I mean. Some others ones I've written are

Legacy of the Moon: A Sailor Moon X BNHA fic. After the death of Sailor Moon, another thousand years passed and Luna finds Bakugo and says he's Sailor Moon, but he refuses to believe it. A BakuDeku focused fic as well. It's still ongoing and the latest chapter is currently being written

An Alien Device: A BNHA x Ben 10 fic. In the summer before the last year of middle school Midoriya is forced to go on a vacation with Bakugo and his Dad. On the first night, an alien device crashed landed to reveal the Omnitrix and stuck itself upon Izuku's wrist. This is also BakuDeku.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

... have I? This is a genuine thing. I'm mostly bad with social cues, so I could never tell if something was out of hate or confusion. I probably did, but just don't remember it or simply ignored it.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I.... do not. It's mostly because smut itself to me is kinda just... there. Maybe its the demisexual in me, but when I read fics that have smut. I do kinda just... skim it over. Like I'll read it for the genuine emotion but not the actual well physical stuff.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I did, I do not know. I do know that I have a now long abandoned fanfiction.net account (I should move some of my How to Train Your Dragon fics I had there to Ao3). But if I did, I don't know about it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

... I have been offered. One of my fics was offered, but I had to turn it down cause it wasn't going to be published on Ao3 but a different sight. I just didn't feel comfortable with the idea of having it out there without me knowing what's going on.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, why with @vulpixen with a Gravity Falls fic. I was in high school, so I couldn't write as much as I wanted and since I was using her OCs we decided to just co-write together. She did most of the heavy lifting while I did most of editing and stuff. I'm always open to now co-write more often now, in fact I did have a fic being written with Codi ( @collisiondiscourse ) for a BNHA fic. But they're busy with Uni. They do draw me the most amazing cover art for some of my fics tho!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... Soooo this is kinda a loaded question. See, I don't have a singular OTP that dominates. I have a Mount Rushmore where I will eat any content of them like its the most delicious bowl of curry ever and it influences all future ships. Those being UsaMamo aka Usagi Tsukino/Sailor Moon and Mamoru Chiba/Tuxedo Mask. This was the start and I will always think of them when comparing any current ships I have. Next would be of course BakuDeku aka Bakugo Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku from BNHA. I don't think I need to explain this one. This sucker got me by the neck when Kacchan got kidnapped and I ain't ever leaving. Next is Klance aka Keith and Lance from Voltron Legendary Defender. By god, if you see me now and think "Wow she's super into BakuDeku"... you have not seen me at my most FERAL and potentially insane. In fact, I did not realize how much this ship STILL holds me its claws until the recent news of it being taken off of Netflix. And the final one *drumroll* is MadoHomu aka Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi from Madoka Magica. Now this ship, while I don't talk about as often as I like is because their story is still going and I want to see how it ends. Doomed Yuri at its finest.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Any fic, I haven't updated before 2023. I love all my fics to bits but sometimes, hyperfixations come and go. I do plan eventually especially with my resurgence of Klance love, but it might be a while.

What are your writing strengths?

I think its dialogue. I often say my own dialogue aloud when writing to get the tone right. Plus, I'm very much a word person. So I think is my best.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably a lot. I know I'm my own worse critic, so I'm harsh. One that I try is conveying words through actions or setting the scene essentially. I can't quite get the tension right in my opinion, but maybe that's because I know how it ends. I haven't really asked what it could be from others.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

So I watch anime and read manga. So my thought process is write how the character would think, so for example in my anime fics, I use honorifics if the character does in speak, but in thought its just the name. When there's multiple language at play like say my Voltron fics where I make Lance use Spanish, I just use the Spanish and give translations at the bottom.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

So damn, can I say any of the ships I have yet to write for or ones that have like "dead" fandoms. Take Tokyo Mew Mew for example, I want to write an IchiSaya (Ichigo Momomiya x Masaya Aoyama) fic so bad because back in my middle school days THAT was the rare pair despite being canon.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh definitely Legacy of the Moon and Friendship in Flames and Curses. I love Sailor Moon and BakuDeku so much and that one is still so fun to write. As for my JJK x Blue Exorcist Fic, that one is simply fun to just write and have fun with no boundaries, like its purely self indulgent. You can probably tell how much I enjoy a fic by how fast I update.

[almadesarrollo]

GHOSTFORCE OPINION AND RECOMMENDATION (series necessary to watch to better understand MLB)

Given that there will clearly be a crossover with Ghostforce, I was forced to watch it, in 3 days I did a marathon and binge-watched everything about the series hahahahaha

what is it about? : there are 3 boys who must capture ghosts in capsules using superpowers, ghosts that appear out of nowhere and cause chaos, they have the help of miss jones, a half-human, half-ghost scientist who studies ghosts and a robot called glowboo, with the power to illuminate.

There are 2 seasons: the 1st season has 52 episodes and the 2nd also has 52, but the latter is still broadcast, each episode lasts approximately 12 minutes, as for movies, there are none so far, but there are 2 specials, one for Halloween and one for Christmas, both lasting approximately 21 minutes.

how is it? My criticism and opinion: The truth is that it is a very good series, I really like the idea of ​​fighting ghosts in the Ghostbuster style, and I also think that the concept of light and dark is very good, the characters are good, and well, One thing that I do like is how they leave the villain in the veil of mystery (something that MLB does not do) and also how the relationship between man and woman is carried out in the dynamics of battles, you know we are in the era where the woman has to being perfect and the trash man, but here this is well balanced and everyone contributes something important, which is appreciated, what I do think can play in a negative way is that they are very long seasons and even though the episodes are short, sometimes It is hard to see, because sometimes the dynamics are similar, (a bit like what happened in MLB) but of course, it is necessary to see because they are presentations of characters.

For me, the best have been the specials, especially the Halloween one, which undoubtedly best captures the essence of this series, and what its concept is, these are my favorites.

As for the animation and soundtrack, the truth is that it is also very good, it is average, a bit childish but not unpleasant to see, where it can best be appreciated is in the spaces, where the conditions are met, the music too It's fine but it often has Miraculous vibes, in fact, there is some recycling, and it will seem like you are watching this series hahaha.

Should we see it? :Yes, but come on, go see it right now!!! not because of how good she is but because of her connection with miraculous LADYBUG.

miraculous and ghostforce occur in the same universe and are connected, but on some amazing levels, there are references everywhere,

so it is logical that there is going to be a crossover, but, as I tell you, as I have watched the series this goes further, I mean the LONDON thing IS JUST THE BEGINNING OF WHAT YOU HAVE PLANNED GUYS!!!! , there are a lot of clues, so to speak, that the series itself leaves to imply how ALL THIS WILL COME TOGETHER more than once, it will be like MARVEL AND DC, so if you are a fan of miraculous ladybug, yes or yes You are going to have to watch this series because in the future everything is going to be connected to each other and you are going to get lost, (TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA, THIS IS GOING TO BE LIKE AVENGERS ENGAME, CLEARLY IF YOU DON'T SEEN CAPTAIN AMERICA, OR IRON MAN OR AVENGERS, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING AT ALL) and let's not talk about Zak Storm, this series has a subtle hint of that series, so imagine!!!!! And, this series is long so I recommend that you hurry up, another thing is that as you already know I have said that Miraculous LADYBUG is a puzzle and gives clues to what is going to happen next, right? Well, GHOSTFORCE is also part of that and has helped me better understand MLB, so if you have those types of problems, this series will also help you.

MIRACULER YEARS AGO :"HEY!" YOU HAVE TO WATCH THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER OF MLB, BECAUSE IF NOT YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND WHY HE DOES THIS OR THAT." MIRACULER TODAY "YOU HAVE TO WATCH ALL THE SERIES in the ZAG universe BECAUSE IF NOT, YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THIS CHARACTER IS IN THE OTHER HERO'S COUNTRY AND THEY WORK TOGETHER ETC…"

CONCLUSION: YOU HAVE TO CATCH UP WITH ALL THIS, GO SEE IT, YOU WILL ENJOY IT AND YOU WILL BE MORE UP TO DATE WITH THIS WORLD OF HEROES THAT JEREMY IS SETTING UP, I FOR ONE, WHEN I FINISH MY ZAG POSTS, I WILL START MAKING THEORIES OF THE LONDON SPECIAL AND GHOSTFORCE WITH MLB BECAUSE SERIOUSLY I HAVE DISCOVERED MANY THINGS!!!!!

thanks for all the reblogs and likes, we really love it.

Like, reblog and follow me if you liked the content and to see more of them.

See you in future posts

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Eleven

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, era typical fatphobia (blink and you’ll miss it) World on Fire spoilers.

Word Count: 4.7K

Note: Hi my loves! I’m sorry for the angst in the last chapter! I’ve had a dip in confidence recently with writing, so thank you for the support that’s been shown towards me, it’s meant such a lot. Despite the distance between them, we’re gonna start exploring what’s going on with Tom and Bess. By the way...the letters are back 💌

April 1940

“Hello you!” Cora hugged her sister and stepped aside to allow her into the house. “Leave the door open, bloody boiling in the kitchen.” She bustled away.

“Good to see I’m not the only one in a uniform!” Albie brought Bess into a one-armed hug and kissed the top of her head. “Alright, duck?”

“Speaking of uniforms,” Fergal descended the stairs. “Could you let the waist out on my trousers? They’re a bit tight.”

“You need to stop eating so much,” Dot chimed in.

“Evening, Bess.” Roger smiled from where he sat at the table.

Bess looked around at her family. Albie was home for a brief spell of respite before heading to France. Cora and Roger were as in love as ever, and Bess fully expected Roger to kneel down every time she saw him. Dot finally seemed to have gripped the seriousness of the war and was stepping into her role around the home and at the factory, though her joy of life had miraculously remained. Dear old Dadda was working as a warden, helping the war effort at home, and lonely Bess had left the factory and begun training as a nurse at the Royal Infirmary. Tom was right, she was good at it.

Bess shook off her coat and jumped into helping Cora lay out the food. Roast chicken and potatoes, cabbage and gravy. Despite the rationing in place, Cora was determined to give Albie a good meal before he went back. His cheeks were gaunt, the orbits of his eyes were purple, and the shoulders of his jumper were sloping down his arm. No matter how bright his dark eyes were, the sisters could see the realities of war slowly embalming him.

A few children ran past the house. Easter had come and gone, and spring was settling into Manchester. The sun was warm, the wind was cold, and everyone was enjoying the blooms and weeds that peeked through the pavement. After a winter in war, spring was a welcome change. The family settled at the table, Fergal and Albie sat together, followed by Dot, Roger, Cora and Bess.

“Grab mam off the mantel, Dot.” Cora said to her sister. Dot leaned across, picked up the photograph of Etta and kissed it, before placing it next to Fergal and Albie. As soon as Etta was placed on the table, the men lunged for the food and the meal began.

“I’m starving,” Dot said through a mouthful of potato. As Albie laughed at her, Cora leant towards Bess.

“How’s training going?”

“Um,” Bess paused. She was trying, my God she was trying, to be better at talking. “It’s not so much training as learning on the job.” Cora chuckled. “I don’t think we really have the time to be trained. They need nurses and they need them now.” The sisters fell silent as they ate.

“It must be hard for you, Bess.” Roger said as he indicated for the salt.

“How do you mean?”

“I was at the infirmary visiting a friend last week. It’s overwhelming.”

Bess thought carefully of what she was to say next. The moment Albie and Fergal engaged in conversation, she spoke lowly to Cora and Roger. “Already, they’re coming back with such horrific injuries. And that’s just physically. I still think what a miracle it is that we all sit here, considering Dadda made it out alive.” She looked at her plate and pushed the food around. “I’m terrified, Cora. For Albie.”

Underneath the table, Cora squeezed her hand.

“And for you, Roger.” He smiled at her gently, and Bess’ affection for him grew. She wanted to ask him to marry Cora then and there on her behalf.

“Roger!” It was Albie, from the end of the table, trying to rope the other young man in to convince Fergal of something or other. He turned away, and Cora whispered in Bess’ ear.

“And Tom?”

Immediately, Bess regretted speaking. Her body tightened in her seat and she avoided her sister’s gaze. “What about him?”

“You must be worried-”

“Of course I am, I have a heart, Cora.” Bess snapped under her breath. Cora held up her knife and fork, indicating that she meant no offence.

“Have you heard from him?”

“Not for a while,” Bess was intentionally haughty.

Cora nodded. “And have you written to him?”

“Not for a while,” Cora made to speak but Bess stopped her. “Please Cora, I’ve come home to say goodbye to Albie, I don’t want to think about Tom bloody Bennett.”

After Bess and Tom’s argument in January, Cora found Bess in the bathroom, the bath water cold as she sat curled up, puffy eyed and shaking. Cora had always known, told Bess she had always known. She knew that Tom snuck in at night, she noticed their stolen glances. She even made Bess laugh when she told her that she saw them kissing in the window. When she missed Tom’s train, it was Cora that Bess ran to.

The truth was, Bess didn’t want to think about Tom because she spent every last second doing just that. Each day at work, when a young man with blue eyes looked at her as she administered treatment, she saw Tom’s gleaming at her from behind cigarette smoke. When she got the bus home from the hospital and saw teenage boys on the way home, she remembers Tom at that age, pulling Lois’ hair and sneaking Bess looks. At night, as she waits for sleep, she looks at the photograph of him propped against the lamp, and cries.

Cora didn’t mention him again. When Dot had cleared the plates, the tablecloth was pushed to one side for dominoes and cards. Fergal retrieved his bottle of whisky from the cabinet by the stairs and poured a glass for himself, Albie, Roger and Bess. Cora and Dot drank sherry, placing a cup by Etta’s photograph. Miraculously, Fergal kept to one glass. Dot partook in multiple sherries and, as was her way, began to cry.

“Play something for me, Bess.” Albie said softly from his chair. His eyes were gentle, and Bess felt the string that tethered their hearts together pull. Of course Dot and Cora would miss him, but sometimes Bess felt that there was a deep set sadness to her and Albie that they could never understand. Maybe that’s middle children for you. Bess just wished she could have some of his joy. She stood and lifted the lid of the piano. Imagining Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, she played Cheek to Cheek and Cora sang along. Albie swept Dot into her arms and spun her around, her tears of sadness turning to tears of mirth. Cora sang at Roger as they swayed together, and Fergal clutched the photo of Etta to his chest. Bess continued to play, fingers remembering their path over the keys. She didn’t have anyone to dance with.

The evening wore on. A few of Mrs Mason’s children poked theirs heads round the door at the sound of the family’s singing, and for a little while they joined in the dancing. Fergal requested a few ballads, Black is the Colour being his favourite, and everyone stilled as he sang solemnly to Bess’ playing. Come nine o’clock, Dot’s tears had returned and Cora was stifling her own. It was time for Bess to head back into the city.

Bess hugged her sisters goodbye, kissed her father’s head and did the same to Roger’s cheek.

“I’ll be back in a week or two, keep an eye on them for me,” she whispered to him.

“Will do, captain.” Roger smiled.

“And don’t leave it too long.”

“I don’t know what you mean-”

“I think you do, Rog.” Bess winked and put on her coat. Albie was waiting outside the front door with a cigarette in his mouth. “What time’s your train tomorrow?”

“Eleven-thirty.” He said.

“I’ll come down and meet you, it’s only round the corner.”

“Ta-ra,” he watched as she retreated to the end of the road, and out of sight.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

Mrs Russo was coming down the stairs when Bess arrived at her tiny flat in Manchester. A large brick building that once housed mill workers, Carver Mills was now home to nurses, one to each cramped room.

“If you’ve got any washing, love, leave it outside your door and I’ll do it in the morning.” Mrs Russo said as she squeezed past Bess in the narrow corridor. “How’s your family, pet?”

“You know families.” Bess said with a sad smile.

“Aye, I do.” Mrs Russo was a portly woman of about fifty, plum faced and feisty. A nurse too, she had married young and lost her husband in the Great War. When her two girls were grown, she became the matron of this boarding house for trainees. She was turning into her room on the ground floor when she called back to Bess, now halfway up the first set of stairs. “Some post came for you today, by the way. Left it on the table-”

Bess didn’t hear the end of the sentence. She raced up the next two floors and grappled with her keys, bursting through the door and lighting the lamp.

“Shit,” she ran to the window and pulled across her blackouts.

The letter was propped against her vase of flowers. It was from him. That was his writing. She ripped open the letter.

Dear Bess,

Cheers for the last letter. I hope you all had a good Easter? Ours was dreadful, but when have I ever worried what the Lord thinks?

How is training? A few of our lads got a little hurt during a training exercise in dock. Let me tell you, they’d have much preferred you to the sister we had in France. Looked like someone was trying to overstuff a pillowcase. We’ve mostly been trundling around the coast on supply runs. I can’t tell you much, obviously, but things are hotting up here. It’ll be back to the battles for us. A few Lancasters flew over the ship the other day and I told my mates that you made the wings.

We had a little shore leave recently, though I can’t say where. There was a market selling some fabrics. If I had the money, and I knew I could send it, I would have bought you some. There was a dark green sort of thing, that soft fabric you like? I don’t know the name. And a pink linen. I know you think pink clashes with your hair, but it reminded me of your cheeks when you get flushed.

The weather is a lot better where we are than I imagine it is in Manchester, but I miss home. There’s nothing quite like a trip to Belle Vue or a walk round Alexandra Gardens at this time of year.

I don’t know when I’ll next be home, but I hope you’ll save an afternoon for me. You’re always on my mind.

Tom.

The flat was silent. Bess re-read the letter, then moved to the bedroom adjoining the kitchen. Sitting on the bed, she removed her shoes and hair pins. She opened the draw by her bed and placed Tom’s letters with the pile of others she had accumulated since the war began. Tom watched her as she did, from the photograph by the lamp. Bess eyes drifted from the letters to the photograph, and her body convulsed with sobs. This had become the evening routine for Bess. Come back from the hospital, eat with alone or with the other girls, wash, reread her letters from Tom, and cry. How long she sat in the blackout darkness of her room, she did not know, but no sooner had she looked at the photograph was she waking to her morning alarm.

The uniform she still wore was a little creased but relatively clean. Changing her underwear, Bess washed with a cloth and began her morning. A breakfast of bran and a cup of tea downed in ten minutes. She looked to the clock. Half past nine. She had time before she was to meet Albie at the station, and her shift was not until the afternoon. The letter in her bedside table seemed to be humming, like some sacred talisman alerting her to its presence. No matter how hard she tried, Bess could not stop thinking about it.

Since their argument, their letters had been infrequent and terse. Little detail, rarely more than a page. Tom had written first, though was yet to address any of the offences Bess had accused him of in January. Bess wasn’t blind. She could see his attempts at tenderness, but it just wasn’t good enough. In return, Bess was haughty and stubborn. If Tom Bennett could not bring himself to say sorry, then Bess would not tell him how much she craved him. Imagined the press of his body on hers or the warmth of his kisses. How she thought everyday of his face as she ran alongside the train. How, until the day she dropped, she would regret not saying goodbye to him. Every time she opened the newspaper or turned on the wireless, watched the newsreel at the picturehouse, she feared seeing Tom’s face among the soldiers lined along the ground. But she wouldn’t tell him, couldn’t. Instead, she picked up her pen and paper, and wrote the following.

Tom,

We had a good Easter, Albie is home. After I write this, I’m going to the station to see him off. He’s going back to France tomorrow.

He looks dreadful. Cora’s been trying to fatten him up while he’s been back, but nothing seems to stick. I’m terrified. A stiff wind could knock him over. Still, he puts on a brave face for us, and he and Dot together are a whirlwind.

Training is going well, though as I told Cora, it’s not really training but learning as we go. I don’t need to tell you what sort of horrible things we see, you already know. What I can say is that our matron is terribly strict and the other girls are lovely. Mrs Russo, who runs the boarding house I’m staying at, takes good care of us but you’d hate it. Curfew of ten o’clock and no gentlemen visitors.

I must say, it’s a relief not to be at the factory. Now, I have my own money that it doesn’t go into the family pot, and I don’t stink of grease. Besides, blood stains are easier to get out. The girls here too are much more mature. You have to be, with what we see and living away from home. None of that incessant gossiping and giggling to put up with.

Keep yourself safe,

Bess.

She put the letter in a stamped envelope and shoved it into her bag. A part of her hated the terseness. No matter how hard she was trying in real life to speak, the reverse had happened in letters. I need you, I miss you, come home became keep safe, good Easter andthinly veiled digs at Queenie Warren.

With nothing else to do or, more accurately, to warrant her interest, Bess made her way to Manchester London Road.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

Albie was waiting by the entrance to the station when Bess arrived. He suited the uniform, and with Bess’ tailoring, was the best looking of the bunch. She watched him for a moment before she approached, memorising what he looked like when he thought no-one was looking. There’s a gentleness to people when they are alone. Once removed from self-consciousness, they enter their own world. One of little smiles, murmurings and inner lives being lived out. Bess loved watching them.

She whistled as she crossed the street, causing Albie to look up. “Alright, duck?” He kissed her and the cheek then wrapped her into a hug. “Got time for a cuppa?” He led her into the station and took her to one of the waiting rooms. Returning with a pot of tea, he shook off his jacket and placed his hat on the table. An elderly gentleman passed, shook his hand, and Bess watched as he muttered a “good luck” to her brother. She thought of Tom.

“You boys really do get the special treatment in these uniforms, don’t you?”

“Tell them that in France, Germans might stop shooting at us.” Albie grinned as he sipped his tea.

“Here I am making planes and patching you up, all I get is rationing and a smack on the arse from one of the doctors.”

Albie grimaced as he finished his cup of tea. “Are you managing alright with it all?”

Bess slammed her own cup back in its saucer. “What is going on? First Cora, now you-”

“You just haven’t been yourself lately. You seem,” Albie looked upwards, as though the word he was searching for might magically appear there. “Nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“You know, you were always so sure of yourself, feet firmly planted and head held high. Now, and please don’t take this the wrong way Bess, you seem like you did as a kid. Not looking at people, keeping yourself busy to avoid everyone-” he trailed off, letting Bess take the space. She thought for a moment.

“This war,” her words were careful, for fear of revealing too much. “It’s shown me what my failings are. And what really makes people ‘good’. I don’t know, everything I once thought was true isn’t. How do carry on when the whole world is as ugly as this one?”

Albie took his sister’s hand. “People are good, Bess.”

“I don’t know if I am,” her voice was barely above a whisper. She thought of Walter’s bullying, Tom’s lies and the way she was keeping him at a distance. If she couldn’t allow herself to let any light in, maybe she deserved it. This sadness.

“Hush.” Albie’s voice was firm and his eyes hard. Despite her sorrow, Bess smiled. Through the window of Albie’s eyes, their mother was looking down at her. He held out his hand. “Time to go.”

A few other families were waving off their loved ones, and as Albie loaded his kit bag onto the train, Bess looked around. Her eyes fell on a young soldier and the woman clinging onto his shoulders. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck, and when she looked up at him, Bess saw tear tracks making their way through her makeup. The solider stroked her face with the back of his hand and tenderly took hold of her chin, bringing her in for a kiss. Bess’ heart stung and she turned away. How many times had she written the last time she was here to look exactly like that? Tom gently caressing her face as he promised to come home.

Albie jumped from the train. “I’m off.” Bess gave him a glance over, adjusting his coat and straightening his hat. He smiled as she fussed. Satisfied with her work, Bess cupped his face and looked into the eyes that mirrored hers, bringing forth every ounce of encouragement and hope that she could muster. Albie’s eyes began to glaze with tears, and Bess wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she whispered. “Write, and come home soon.” He nodded into her shoulder.

“And you look after yourself, no more of this moping around.” She slapped his back and he laughed. The whistle blew and people began hurriedly boarding the train. Not again, don’t mess this up again.

“Albie, I love you. So much.”

Albie watched his sister a moment. There was no doubt of Bess’ capacity to love. It was in the clothes she made, the whispered affirmations, her willingness to defend. But he also knew how much it took for her to say it.

“I know, I love you too.” He kissed her on the cheek and boarded the train.

She didn’t wait at the station long. Once the train had left the platform, so too did Bess. It was very quickly becoming her least favourite place. She checked her watch. Quarter to twelve. Her shift began in half an hour. As Bess ran towards the bus stop, she passed by a postbox. Stopping, she retrieved the now slightly crumpled letter from her bag and, despite herself, kissed it good luck.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

An hour until he needed to be back on the boat. He’d seen an alleyway on the way to the bar, perhaps they could sneak in there. The raucous laughter of other sailors and the clinking of glasses drowned out the barely audible band. Occasionally the choice words of an Englishman caught his ears amongst the French he didn’t understand. Focus, Tom Bennett. He’d had the odd occasion where his mind wasn’t in it, but it had never happened when he couldn’t engage elsewhere. Come on.

He ran a hand along the stranger’s leg, continuing to nuzzle at her neck. Fucking touch me. Tom took one of the hands that was lazily placed against his chest and brought it to his neck. She could sense that he was eager.

“Combien du temps allez vous rester?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, love.” He moved to silence her with impatient kisses and she sighed.

“C’est toujours pareil,” Tom brushed his tongue along the woman’s mouth, and she let him deepen the kiss. He was good-looking, a little cocky but these English sailors often were. And who knows when she’d see a young man again? She moved her body closer to his and raked a hand through his blond hair. Tom groaned into her mouth.

“Bess,”

The woman pulled away. “Pardon?”

“Ssh,” Tom moved to kiss her again. “S’nothing,” The stranger placed a hand on his chest and prevented him from coming closer.

“Qui est Bess?”

“Sorry,” Tom’s hand moved from the woman’s waist to cup her face. “Camille-”

“Corinne!” She shoved him away and stood from the booth they had hidden in. “T’es vraiment qu’un pauvre connard.”

Tom watched as she stormed from the bar. He didn’t have the energy to be annoyed, simply leant back against the seat, rubbed a hand over his face and grabbed his cap.

“I’m off, see you on ship.” Norman unstuck himself from some other French nurse and watched Tom storm away.

“You alright mate?” Tom waved his cap in reply and left.

The night was cold and, in the far distance, the sound of war boomed. He jogged to the ship, lit up in the harbour. Back to the floating, metal prison. A few men had already returned, and from the Captain’s mess he could hear laughing. At least they’d had a good night. He arrived at the bunk he shared with Norman and hauled himself into the top bed. From the pocket of his trousers he withdrew the last letter Bess wrote; it had been burning a hole there all evening. He read over the letter for the hundredth time since it arrived with the auxiliaries that morning. Not one of his questions was answered, excluding about Easter, and Queenie Warren’s name was left hanging in the air like a bad smell. He knew what she was doing. He’d known Bess long enough to see. She was haughty and quiet and used it to work people into the palm of her hand. But Tom saw right through her. From the netted store above the bunk, he took out a sheaf of paper. Lying on his front, he leant against his copy of Knots and Ropework and from beneath his pillow retrieved Bess’ portrait.

Dear Bess,

I’m not going to lie and tell you that your Albie will be fine. We’ve both seen too much now to know I’d be lying, but I’m sure Cora’s cooking will see him right. Tell her I want one of those roast dinners when I’m back.

I would say thank you for your letter, but it was a load of shit and you know it. I could easily understand if you never wanted to talk to me again, but this? These horrible half-given accounts of your day with no substance? I want to know you, Bess. You’ll be reading this and scoffing, I can see you now with that frown on your face, so I’m going to try and explain why I did what I did.

I got a letter from Lois before she went off to ENSA catching me up on how you all were. Of course, she didn’t know that you and I were writing and sent me lots of details. Told me about your factory work and that you’d been spending time with dad. Told me more about you than anyone else – got a feeling she knew before we did. She also told me that Queenie had started going with Frank Smith, and was struggling with missing him and a lot of us being away. And I know you’ll be annoyed by this point, but I stick by what I said before. You girls are intimidating and Queenie Warren doesn’t deserve your cruelty just because she likes the company of men. Anyway, Lois asked if I would write to her because I get more rest time than the army lads and she’d always been fond of me. So I did. Nothing more. One letter to say hello and reassure her about Frank. Please believe me. She asked me about the battle at the dance and it really was just one letter. I didn’t know she’d say it was more than one. And she didn’t know about us either so she couldn’t have been bragging to hurt your feelings, just to maintain her reputation.

Speaking of reputations, I know that the real reason I hurt you was because I asked you to keep us quiet. The truth of it is that you were right, I am a coward. I’m a criminal, a down and out and a nuisance. But somehow, you saw something different in me, and I was still getting used to that version of myself, one that I actually liked. Not knowing who I am terrified me, but I loved seeing myself through your eyes. And I thought that maybe, if I kept it a secret, it couldn’t be touched. If it was something between just you and me, then it would stay special. Does that even make sense? I don’t know. And if anything happened to me out here, I thought it would be easier for you if no-one knew. I wouldn’t ruin your reputation and you wouldn’t have people pitying you for a being with a dead fella. I know you hate to be pitied.

Just know that I miss you, and I’m sorry, and I’ll understand if things will never be the same.

Your friend,

Tom.

A knock came at the door and the second officer put his head into the bunk. “Any post? Auxiliaries are off.”

“Just the one,” Tom said, placing the letter in the envelope and, despite himself, gave it a kiss good luck.

Note: Norman’s back! No idea if he died or survived in WoF, but I’m keeping he and Tom together. These next few chapters are going to be shorter, as I’m anticipating dumping one bigger chapter on you (probably chapter thirteen). Bear with me, we’re in the slow burn again but it’ll get juicy very soon. Those who have seen the series know what’s coming! I promise, the end will all be worth it, thanks for sticking around 😊 Work on the next chapter begins, we're getting to some heavy/exciting stuff soon!

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring