#patty needs her own series

[callowaysinks]

guys guys im losing my MIND i finished Mac Roger's 2017 audiodrama Steal the Stars and im LOSING IT over here... such a beautiful and unflinching allegory for codependency... and also just a really cool soft-sf heist story?? and hot?? it's INCREDIBLE - im not sure I was rooting for anybody (except Lloyd & Patty) but it was just such a true to form and human look at a deeply weird scenario. I'm going insane there are like five posts about this. Need the art. Need the fic. And also oh my GOD the patty scene??!!?!?!?? HELLO??!!!?! I think the decisions made for a beautiful tragedy and were incredibly well written but like. Justice for patty!!???

The clapping sound in between scenes in Steal the stars

Reblog if you agree

[yourbasicqueerie]

DIVA DOWN I REPEAT DIVA DOWN

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

Agatha All Along is really scratching an itch in Television right now and even in its own camp it feels like it's breaking ground. It's a Marvel show but they're using practical effects and not relying heavily on CGI. The set designs and props are fantastic and immersive. There is a musical element but it isn't a musical (but there is Patti Lupone!). Kathryn Hahn is infectiously charming and her physicality in this role is almost TOO natural - her witchy mannerisms feel so authentic. It's queer. It's chaos. It's witches being witches and one potentially lethal fruity Teen committing multiple crimes (breaking and entering, blackmailing, probably perjury, etc.). It's a comedy but it's also a horror movie. This show feels like a genuine treat after a year of generally disappointing television - a palate cleanser for media - I can't wait to see how it wraps up and I'm so glad it's a week-by-week release. All of these actors are delivering in show and as cast members, their press junket has been nothing shy of delightful. The chemistry is really palpable with this group and of course Jac Schaeffer being so invested in this project really shines through on and off screen. I couldn't be more excited for the rest of this series, I need it to sweep because costume design and set design are already leagues above what I've seen this year from other series. The music is perfection and the Lopez's need their flowers NOW. It really is a show that is reveling in what it is and that's magic.

[linskywords]

2024 HRPF recs

As has become my wont, I spent the last few weeks trying to catch up on some of the new fics in the hockey RPF tag that I missed over the course of the year. I definitely didn't get to everything, or even all of the most popular ones; there may also be a bias towards shorter fics here, as I was trying to get through a lot. 😅 But I hope you enjoy, and possibly find a gem or two that you missed!

First, some general favorites:

Scoring Effects by @helenish (McDrai, 30K): Ah, Helenish. A goddess among us. I love a good mistaken identity story, and this is a GREAT mistaken identity story.

barons by dilangley (MattDrai, 43K): Future fic in which Houston gets its own expansion team, Matthew coaches it, and Leon and Trevor Zegras play on it. Gorgeously done. The Trevor POV section broke me a bit, but it was worth it.

Living Things by @makeit-takeit (TK/Patty, 115K so far): I am so deeply invested in this series. It's very real and vivid-feeling future fic that does an amazingly thoughtful job exploring the NHL wife-and-kids pipeline and what happens when that doesn't fit you as well as you thought it would. The stories that are written so far feel nicely complete, but if you'd rather hold out for the full HEA, you can check out her Wild Ice for a different highlight from the past year.

put the stars in our eyes by @notthequiettype (McDrai, 17K): the McWedding story that I wish I had written. I thought it was going to destroy me, and instead it left me all warm and fuzzy.

Lost and Found by angry_geno_is_score (MattDrai, 2K): angry_geno_is_score had so much to choose from this year, as always, and I loved this as a microcosm of the hurt/comfort they do so well. If you like it, you know where to find more from them!

Next, we move to the irresistible new Sharks babies. I'm not sure I can oversell how hot these three stories managed to be:

come on (leave me breathless) by countthestars @moondoggiestyle (Will/Mack, 10K): I've already talked about how much I loved this one. There can never be too many stories of one player catching the other getting off in the shower, especially if they're as hot as this.

revising the shoreline by ohyellowbird @teex (Will/Mack, 6K): another super well done exploring-their-sexuality-while-not-talking-about-it story, aka my kryptonite.

teamwork makes the dreamwork by canary @bigdogenergy (Will/Mack and Will/Mack/Ryan Leonard, 19K): I'm sure a lot of you have already read this in the last week or so, but I couldn't not recommend it. Mack goes into heat and Will needs an alpha to help him out. Who to call but the ex?

And then we enter the realm of vaguely devastating but gorgeously written JDTZ trade fics:

home by now by donderwolk @donderwolkenblog (Jamie/Trevor, 6K): The moment they found out about the trade, and a little bit after. Brilliant, impeccable, ruinous.

heat check by jolach @hyggles (Jamie/Trevor and also Carts/Richie, 4K): Outsider perspective on Jamie and especially Trevor as they deal with the aftermath of the trade, through the eyes of Mike Richards, who may have some experience in the area. I don't know how anyone writes this well, honestly.

Finally, one of my favorite things about reading through the past year's fics is finding a prolific new author I love who I had totally missed in my year of mostly reading people I'm already subscribed to. This year it was unsay (@tungpin). They seem to have started writing HRPF this year, and they tend toward the kind of complicated sometimes-ambiguous stories that I never manage to write but love to read. Here are a few of my favorites of theirs from this year:

malt (MattDrai, 4K): Leon meets Sasha Barkov and has feelings about how he wants to be more serious than Matthew does (OR DOES HE).

accessory to the rockstar (McDrai, 5K): once again we have Leon having thoughts about how he feels more than the person he's into, this time about Connor. Bittersweet and lovely.

the care and keeping (Jamie/Trevor, 12K): in which Trevor's friends get on Jamie's case about neglecting him post-trade, and Jamie does something about it.

That's it from me, at least for now! I know there were many excellent stories this year I didn't get to, especially the long ones that I just didn't commit to while reading for this list. Perhaps this is the year I do what I've been telling myself to do for the past two years and keep track of what I read and love throughout the year. We can only dream. 😅

Happy reading!!

[fanaticsnail]

Straw-Hat Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

Art link.

Monkey D. Luffy:

Bachata (Dance Series) (one-shot)

Gyrating, thrusting, swaying and grinding. Where did the straw-hat captain learn to dance in this way? The crew, holding many a whispered conversation regarding the captain's sultry movements, finally is approached head-on by the quartermaster of the Going Merry. Flushed cheeks, gasped breaths and soft smiles ensue as the captain aims to teach her a few of his moves.

Run Away With Me (one-shot)

After being left after a night of passion by her marine lover, sorrow eclipsed the hardening heart of the owner of the library. The librarian, after swearing off sea-baring men, is physically swept off her feet by a mischievous, straw-hat wearing captain who woos her with his undivided support of her dreams of romance.

Australian Luffy (HC Drabbles)

Just some silly dialogue with Aussie slang from Monkey D "Loz"

Ravenous (NSFW one-shot)

Luffy is hungry, and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He doesn’t care where it happens, how it happens, or what exactly happens - all he cares about is the who and when. The who is you, and the when is right now and until his hunger is fully satisfied.

Roronoa Zoro:

Blade Song(Dance Series) (one-shot)

The Straw-Hat pirate crew finds themselves amongst a fire-side, sea-front celebration. Swaying, gyrating and twirling occurs with all but one of the crew. The swordsman, never truly learning how to dance in such a way, regrets his miseducation as soon as he sees the object of his pining dancing within the arms of the blonde chef.

Flowers (one-shot)

Men are known to only receive flowers once in their lifetimes, and they are not even able to see them. The Straw-Hat botanist desires to rectify this for one member of the Straw-Hat pirates, the tri-sword wielding First Mate.

Gua-Sha (one-shot)

Slightly fixated by the dragging of the smooth rock against his crewmen's cheeks and jaw, Zoro immediately pipes up and welcomes the opportunity to have his face massaged to relieve any built up tension and pressure behind it. Pining always from afar, Zoro hopes this small moment would bring the two closer together.

Something Like That (request) (one-shot)

A traveler finds themselves accidentally crashing an exclusive event at Baratie, celebrating a foreign holiday with unusual customs. Pulling you away from your evening meal, your eyes met with the hazelnut gaze of a green-haired swordsman. A sprig of emerald leaves, pearls of flowers and a ribbon hung above your heads - what is this? why is he leaning down to press his lips atop your own?

You Deserve Better (Pollen!One-Shot NSFW)

Zoro has inhaled pollen while lost and away from his crew. His crew return from a day of celebration and tease him for is senseless navigational skills. But you notice something's wrong with him. He's hot. So, so hot. And he needs your help to combat his illness. You want to help him so badly, why won't he let you get Chopper? And why was he holding you like that?

I Don't Sound Like That (request) (one-shot)

You and Zoro have grown closer over the past few weeks. Being invited to rest and study beside him in his hammock, you reflect on your journey travelling with your crew aboard the Going Merry.

Close To You (One-Shot)

Zoro has been wanting to train with you in hand to hand combat far more often than usual. You begin to suspect that there is more behind his intentions than meets the eye.

Blackleg Sanji:

Bar Shift (4/4 Series)

An all-rounder, front of house manager finally acquires the first day off she's had in a very long time. Sanji, the ever faithful "work-husband" makes her breakfast just in time for Patty to break the news to her that her peaceful day off is to come to an end. Covering the bar shift for one of her staff members, shenanigans and mutual pining ensues.

Waltz (Dance Series) (one-shot)

The chief negotiator and relations expert of the Straw-Hat pirates attempts to teach her captain how to perform a waltz to woo the upper class in a formal setting. She finds joy in movement, but Luffy himself was found to be truly incapable of performing the dance to an adequate level. At lunch, she notices how Sanji holds himself; his posture strong and rigid as he effortlessly glides around the table. She asks him to dance, and he truly surprises her.

3, 2, 1 (request) (3/3 Series)

Sanji notices some interesting etchings against the Going Merry's Chronicler's Journal. Questioning her, she informs him the 'x's and numbers are indicating his amount of cigarette breaks per day and the duration they are taken.Brainstorming ideas on how to achieve the same rush of adrenaline, endorphins and breath control in a healthier way than nicatine addiction; the chronicler, in her genius, suggests they share kisses and bold embraces for the duration of his many breaks: all kept under the strict limit of the egg-shaped timer.

"Someone. Someone Help Me" (NSFW Pollen!Drabble)

"Thank You" (NSFW Pollen!One-Shot)

Sanji has inhaled pollen. There is nobody around to help him and he is a desperate, pleading, subby mess.

Your Flirty Chef (one-shot)

Sanji has been working hard lately, your flirty chef no longer as present as you’d like him to be. You both have some unspoken flirtation between you, hopefully something to shatter by moulding him beneath the touch of your hands.

Kiss the Cook (one-shot)

Sanji was gifted an apron from Nami after returning back from town. Every member of the crew aside from Zoro and you have followed the embroidered instructions written on his chest, and he wasn't happy about the lack of kisses from you. You finally relent and give him what he wants.

By feel (one-shot)

You challenge Sanji to demonstrate his impressive knife skills for you by chopping up vegetables while blindfolded. He becomes flustered by the amount of attention you give to him.

Chef's Cure Gone Wrong (drabble)

A small anecdote about Sanji's ailment at Baratie. Chafing is a chef's worst nightmare.

Food Preferences (drabble)

Sanji x Reader x Zoro:

Sanji caters to suit your personal food preferences, and it hurts him to learn of how truly picky you were with your food. He lives to serve, but his background as a great cook leaves him with a bruised ego to dull down his extravagant meals. (Tw: eating disorder hinted)

Limits (One-Shot)

Baratie has been overbooked, and the tension in the kitchen has been overwhelming. Being a hard-working kitchen hand, you have been covering far too many shifts. Sensing the overwhelm, your coworker attempts to aid you through your emotions.

Eyes Meeting (NSFW part 1)

Lips Brushing (NSFW part 2)

Sanji is in a relationship with the ships chronicler. Zoro accidentally stumbles across them engaging together in intimacy. As soon as his eyes meet with the chronicler's, he is enchanted by their beauty in their bliss.

Soul King Brook:

Parts You Left Behind (one-shot)

You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.

Misc and Multiples:

Get Well Soon (Drabble one-shot)

You're sick, and they do their best to support you through it. Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk

Mistletoe (one-shot) (Straw-Hat holiday special)

The botanist aboard the Going Merry shares a cultural tradition with her crew; introducing them and reeducating them on the importance of mistletoe and the mischievousness of her playful lips. Every single member receives a kiss from the botanist; all welcome to her sharing her culture with them.

The Selkie and the Sailor: Mini Fic Drabble (One-Shot)

A mythical creature has rescued the captain of the straw-hat pirates from drowning in the sea. As her eyes meet with the crew, she is immediately taken with one of the sailors: Zoro, Sanji, Luffy

Kiss their cheek (Drabble one-shot)

It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind? Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law, Kid

Recovery (one-shot)

You are in a recovery cot in a hospital willing to accommodate you, resting as your body heals from your latest battle. Expecting to recover alone, you are pleasantly surprised to find yourself within the company of the person you craved the most. Zoro, Sanji

Competency, Stupidity, Duality (One-Shot)

They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you. Kid, Zoro, Killer.

Zosan / Acesan Drabble (anon ask)

Angst, pining, grieving

[warningsine]

Ok, "Kevin Can Fuck Himself" being on Netflix made more people give it a chance, that's true.

Still. I cannot stress enough how much of an underappreciated pearl its first season remains.

People that love(d) "WandaVision" seriously need to check it out. Not children though. KCFH is not for children.

What do these series have in common when they're so tonally different?

Well, their most obvious similarity is the way they utilize the multicam slapstick sitcom format to express dread, women's dread.

They both criticize the male gaze and the way pop culture limits the role of women, the way societal norms dictate their existence and on screen portrayals.

In "WandaVision" you see a superheroine that is so traumatized and preoccupied with grief that she traps an entire town into a fantasy world to cope.

In "Kevin Can Fuck Himself" you have the emotionally abused wife of your typical misogynistic sitcom, who is so angry at her predicament that she jumps out from her genre conventions to murder her husband.

Both women go from one identity to another only to find themselves just as trapped, just as limited.

In the process, they both hurt people and definitely not those who deserve it the most. They briefly become antiheroines. Yet, you cannot help but side with them.

Now, another similarity--since this is Tumblr--is the lesbian sidekick. Of course, Patty is not a cartoonish villainous witch (Agatha wasn't originally meant to be a villain either). She's quite the realistic character, overcoming her own internalized misogyny and compulsory heterosexuality.

Both Agatha and Patty have a thing for the their respective protagonists. In Agatha's case, this is implied during the last episode of the series since the very first thing Agatha does when she's defeated and put under Wanda's spell is flirt with her. In Patty's case, the romantic feelings become canonical during the second half of the season.

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

Watching the fireworks and all I can think about is:

“But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky” — LDR, Ride Monologue

A year ago, I was still in medschool. Already ill, but still studying 12 hours a day for my board exam while I was at my fiancée’s. It was the first NYE in years that I didn’t feel alone. I was with the woman I loved and her beautiful children and lovely family. It was the happiest winter I’ve had in a long, long time, despite all that was going on.

I wanted to be a doctor. A better one than those that had taken a year to diagnose what I already knew I had only to then tell me “there’s nothing more we can do for you.”

Now I stand before the debris of everything that I was. I barely recognise myself. I barely believe that I still exist.

A couple of years ago, I had started medschool, and I was doing well there, I was passionate and it was where I belonged. Spent days in the biochem lab or the dissecting hall and came home late to write my silly fanfiction. I’d even sometimes write them at medschool between lectures or on the train. I did my art, played instruments, sang, edited, filmed silly thirst traps and so on. Then I met my girlfriend and I was happy. It was the peak of my life, I’d thought.

And then, thanks to the negligence of my former doctor and genetics, the illnesses that I’d unknowingly had all my life, got so much worse and ultimately left me bedridden and with barely any quality of life. I had to quit medschool/request a break due to illness, which was approved.

I can’t stand for more than 5 minutes without threatening to pass out. Can’t sit for more than an hour and stay focused, lose my train of thought when I stand up. Need an hour in the morning before I can halfway safely get up, three before I can function. I need help washing my hair, doing chores and cooking and can’t really leave my house. My joints subluxate multiple times a day and I get awful nerve pain when in a flare. I can’t take a bath or shower without ending up on the floor as soon as I get out with a pulse of 150 bpm. It all makes me feel incredibly unattractive. I’m pale, my skin is dry and flaky, my eyes have dark circles, my lips are chapped, and I’m using a can.

I feel ugly.

My writing has slowed down dramatically but it’s the only thing I can still do somewhat decently and I’m being evaluated for disability. My brain, that has been the only thing I could rely on all my life, is forsaking me. It’s demanding to be fed like it used to when it was still a sponge, but when I feed it, it gets too much. And so I’m perpetually bored and overwhelmed at the same time.

I wanted to be a doctor and a writer.

And even though I’m still aiming to try publishing, I’m not sure I have enough energy to do it. I was supposed to get married in 2025. Now I have to attend my best friend’s wedding on my own. And I know it’s my fault, because I got bitter and most of all, because I lost hope. And at the same time, it’s not my fault.

The truth is, I don’t know how many more years I can live on 10% of what I used to be and I don’t want anyone to have to go through this with me. I’m not going to do anything stupid anytime soon. But I can’t do this forever if there is no treatment or hope for improvement on the horizon.

And as always when my life goes to shit, I got attached to another actress more than twice my age. And Patti is keeping me afloat right now. She’s so full of life that I can’t help but feel a little alive as well.

“But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky” — LDR, Ride Monologue

Happy New Year.

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Three

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

...............................

If I could go

Baby where you go

If i could know

Baby what you know

Then I could see

Baby what you see

Baby Where You Are - Ted Lucas

.................................

Dolores isn’t Dolores anymore. It hadn’t been on purpose. Something Joel had found himself calling her, something that she didn’t rebuke or reject. Something that fit, all her flight and fret, the fragile flinch of her feathers. Get too close, and watch her flee, winged reaction. Give her space, and watch grace move, gentle as she can be, kind as she can be. A new name that still somehow fit. It had slipped out around town a few times, enough for it to catch. 

“Thanks, Dove. Why don’t you come by the shop this afternoon? Got a coat in that should be about your size, and you’re gonna need one pretty soon.” Patty is right. Fall is coming in with a sharp tooth this year. The wind picking up, blowing in bite. Mountains turning over in a blaze of death, everything starting to crisp and singe orange and yellow around the edges. But not time for coats yet. Sweaters, sure. But a coat would mean staying, long enough at least to see another season settle. Joel tries not to watch her reaction to Patty’s words too closely, a feigned yawn, a glance over his shoulder out the windows of the diner. 

“Okay, that’d be great, thank you.” Patty takes her lunch to go, a murmured greeting and goodbye to Joel as she lets her hip lead her out the door, a tip of his brow in reply. 

“Would that be alright?” A beat for him to realize that she’s asking him. Less of this lately, all the extra, unneeded thank yous, the careful permission asked after. But still, sometimes, her feathers pluming between the bars of a cage he wishes she’d step out of entirely. 

“Of course, don’t have to ask that. Reckon I oughta pick up a few things myself.” The truth is, all his jeans are fitting tighter. A little fuller lately, a little warmer. Because she can cook, and she likes to, full, warm things that turn the windows sweet with syrupy fog in the evenings. When he first came out here, he lost weight, new notches in his belt to keep his pants up until Patty forced a few new pairs into his hands. No other body to watch after, out for, no concern for three square anything all on his own. But now, breakfast every morning and dinner every night, still trying to keep his knees from brushing against hers under the table, even in the evening’s satisfied slump. And lunch at the diner, whenever he can, always a few fries on the side that he didn’t order. So yeah, lately the zipper is a battle, and the button is a negotiation, and it feels pretty good, like presence. 

She hands him his check, quick lightning in the pass of fingertips, a brush that doesn’t make her flinch. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having, a feel for something he shouldn’t be wanting, he clears his throat, once, twice, napkin held to his mouth should any words try to slip out. 

“What time is the vet coming?” Soon, he thinks, already taking time he doesn’t have, a sigh as he stands from his seat.

“One, he’s always a little late though.” He’s not, but saying it smooths the crease of worry between her brows. Worry, she’s worried about the damn sheep. He thinks she might like the sheep more than she likes him. More comfort with them, at least. It’s not a him thing, though. It’s a people thing. He can understand that, for reasons of his own. After all, he was the one that bought the sheep in the first place. 

“You’ll tell me what he says?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just, you know, have a feeling.” She says it with a shrug, her words twisting up into a smile at the end. She’s had a feeling for the last week about two of the girls. Avril and Lucy, she had told him over breakfast one morning, just a feeling. He had asked how, half a smile, how. And she had given him a shrug not unlike the one she just rolled her shoulders in. Just a feeling. 

“We’ll see what he says. Still don’t know where you’re getting that feeling from. They all look the same to me.” She scoffs, nose scrunching up as she hands him back change that he’s already planning to tuck into the tip jar when her back is turned. 

“It’s not a look, Joel. It’s just a feeling.” 

“Yeah, alright, whatever you say. Tell you what, if you’re right, I owe you that coat Patty’s holding for you.” He was half-expecting her reaction, complete exasperation in her sigh, where once there was worry, a well-worn routine that has softened around the edges.

“You’re not buying that coat for me.”

“Well, not if that feeling of yours is wrong I’m not.” 

“And what do you get if I’m wrong?” Nothing, he doesn’t want anything. He can’t want anything, not from her. 

“I’ll think of something. But you seem pretty sure that you’re right.” Flustered, he thinks, all flap and flutter as her smile slants, turning away with a wave of her hand, forget it, to get back to work. Sure in herself, and in him too. That he’ll be back a little after four, that they’ll stop by Patty’s place on the way home, that they’ll go home, that there is home. No catch, she has finally learned. Settling into no catch.

The vet hasn’t shown up yet by the time Joel returns to the house, nothing to do but wait. There’s a stack of books on the coffee table in the living room. She’s going to have run right through the library’s stock at the clipped rate she’s currently going. There’s been many a morning that he’s found her in the same position he said goodnight to her in, perched in the corner of the couch, all tucked in on herself, a book in her hands near finished where she had only just started it the night before. 

How quickly people’s ghosts take up residence in a space. All the evidence of absence, and the promise of it being filled up again, soon. Her sweater hanging on the hook by the door, her boots settled and slumped next to his, two coffee mugs drying next to the sink. 

How quickly he must remind himself that all of this will end, eventually. That she will leave, and he will let her, and he will be happy for her. Help, and nothing more. Care, however temporary it may be. But for now, the promise of a new coat, and with it, another season. For now, she’s staying.

…

“Well?”

“Nice to see you too.” 

“Joel.” He can’t help himself, leaning back in the driver’s seat, letting her huff at him, just a little puff of impatience. 

“You were right.” 

“Both of them?”

“Yes, ma’am. He couldn’t tell how many, but twins are pretty–”

“Oh wow.” A whispered thing, a wondered thing, one of her palms pressed over the center of her sternum like she can feel it there. And suddenly, he feels it too. 

“So when are they– when will they be here?” It’s a particular way to ask it, a bit strange, steeped in that same awe.

“Vet said sometime around January, so we’ll certainly have our work cut out for us.” It’s a leap, one that makes his stomach lurch as he says it, knowing exactly what he’s doing. Feeling around in the dark, trying to find where the ending is. 

“Oh wow.” Just that again, curling at the edges with her smile, an answer in and of itself. Or at least he hopes. 

“Suppose I owe you that coat now.” She snorts, a sound that would be ugly coming from anyone else, though it only feels like a relief coming from her, shaking her head at him. 

“Oh please, I can pay for that coat just fine. Someone left an annoyingly large tip for me today.” He threatens a smile, keeping tight-lipped to stop its spread as she looks at him, brow raised, knowing and known. A selfish thought he has had, that those tips he is leaving inch her closer to leaving much faster than he’d like her to, though he hasn’t let that idea fester into any action. 

“That right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I wonder who it was.” 

“Me too. Anyways, shouldn’t I get to decide what I get for being right?” New, a little bold maybe, her elbow propped up on the passenger side door, knuckles steepled at her temple, ease, space. 

“I guess I can’t argue with that. What do you want?” It’s gone just as fast, and he knows he made a mistake with that question, the quick configuration of her body recollecting itself, hands in her lap, wilting like a flower, all too much. Want isn’t allowed, want isn’t something she lets herself admit to. Always a production when she asks if they can stop by the library, like she’s getting away with something she shouldn’t be, shy and secret. Always waiting for him to start eating first, and always him resisting the urge to say something about that, a cool prickle threading through his skull, because he knows where that comes from. And what could he say that wouldn’t make shame well up? Unmerited shame, undeserved, but he knows her now, and knows that it’d be shame all the same. 

He has to stop himself from sorry, because he knows sorry will spill into something more like the truth. That he would like nothing more than to hear all her big and little wants, to make them real for her, reach out and take them for her, give them to her. But he has wants of his own, and if he speaks any of it,  all his want will surely make her bolt. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want a thing, really. I’m just excited about the girls, that’s all.” Her words fade and fizzle quiet on the end, all he can do to nod, mercy to make the car move, to not ask for any more from her right now, to not try to take what she is not willing to give. 

She’s quiet through their errands, still kind to Patty, a nice, new coat that he holds onto the image of as a small smolder of hope for staying. And he knows it’s possibly the worst thing he could have to do right now, sick with how she prickles and pinches up when they pull into the station parking lot. But work is work, duty is duty, and he must. A quiet be right back and an even smaller okay from her as he gets out of the car. 

“Miller.” John seems to always be in a variable lean these days, elbows on the counter in the front office, thumbing through some report. Joel offers him a nod as he moves past the man, dropping off more paperwork for a speeding ticket he wrote two nights ago. 

“That husband out of Nebraska called again.” Joel’s spine straightens, steeled and silent. The husband has called every month since she left, since his car got sent back across state lines. Always asking if they’ve heard anything, seen anything. Joel has never been the one to answer those calls, and he’s not sure whether that’s a blessing or a curse. Part of him, poison, wants to hear the man’s voice, give himself something more to hate, something more to imagine in the middle of the night when a closed fist feels like a good idea. 

“He have anything new to say?” John shrugs, only a spared glance over the top of the papers he’s reading, no big deal, no fuss, and Joel has to remind himself that no, no big deal, none at all. A couple hundred miles worth of no big deal. 

“Same thing every time. You’d think he’d try searching elsewhere considering it’s been, what? Three months since that happened?” Four and a half, Joel thinks to himself, though he just nods at John’s estimate, trying on disinterest. 

“You think he’d ever come out here looking?” Wrong, so very, very wrong, he has to bite back a wince when the words leave his mouth, impulsive and idiotic to ask something like that. John’s brow draws down in perfect confusion, papers fanning out in front of him, paused.

“I don’t know, why do you ask?” He can’t bend or bluster now, feigning a yawn and a shrug as he scratches the back of his neck, time to think of what words will make this unnoticeable.

“Like you said, the wife probably ran away for a reason. I just wanna know if we’re gonna have trouble blowing in around here.” It seems to be enough, John sighing like, good point, hadn’t thought of that. 

“Well, he’d be a damn fool to do that after all this time.  Yep, either Lori Wright got the hell out, or she’s gone to the coyotes by now, God forbid.” He didn’t know her last name. Didn’t know Lori either. A shortening, a smalling of Dolores, clearly. Three names for her now. One he will never use.

“Here’s hoping.” He thinks he hears his own voice crack, tilt up somewhere in the middle of hoping, though John doesn’t seem to notice it, already back to his papers, before thinking twice.

“You and Dovey-girl coming to the bar tonight?” She has warmed up to John, just like everyone else in town. She’ll even play a few rounds of darts with him at the bar when they do show up, surprisingly good at it, quick hands and sharp eyes. 

“Probably not tonight, no,  lots to take care of for the winter and all.”

“So she’s staying on for the winter?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Trying to not let that feel too good, palm swiped down his scruff to temper a smile. Willing it and wanting it, even though he shouldn’t. And is he bad for this? For hoping she stays, gone to the coyotes, except not really, except right where husband could find her. A slurry of sick when his mind suddenly flashes with the thought. Her working at the diner and a stranger blowing in as they’re wont to do. Except not a stranger. Except not a stranger’s hand closed in a fist in her hair and dragging her a few hundred miles back across state lines. Except worse, maybe, possibly. Except husband has a gun. So much worse, not maybe, not possibly. Probably. 

“I know I won’t be the only one happy to hear that. She’s been a real addition to the community, you know? A keeper.” John’s words shake him out of his own murmuring thoughts, quick to correct the toxic tinge in his mind. No one is being kept, no one is keeping anyone. Not like that. It can’t be.

“She’s just staying for a little while. Getting her feet under her and– I just, you know, owed her a favor–” He’s making things up, giving more than he should. Something about an old friend, something about Texas even. Lies that will only make things more difficult, not just for him, but for her too. His blunder will require a debriefing at this point, pinning her in this web with him. Though he tells himself it’s protection, a thin, filmy layer of it that might keep husband out, maybe just enough. He hopes it is. 

“Everything okay?” The first thing she asks when he gets back in the car, and he knows that this is her way of trying, of saying sorry for the silence, the sudden shrinking. 

“Yeah, got stopped talking to John. He told me to tell you he’s been practicing his aim, so you better be ready for some competition the next time y’all play a round together.” Another lie, a small one though, and it makes the pinch of worry smooth in her expression, even a clipped laugh. He’ll take it.  

The sun has already closed one eye, half-asleep and hanging on by a thread over the snarled lip of the mountains. It’s been getting cold enough at night that the sheep have started congregating around the barn in the evenings, huddling close and tight to keep in warmth. Pretty soon, he’ll have to set up the heater inside, the promise of another long winter not far away. 

Of course, she heads straight toward the barn when they get home, shrugging into her new coat as she greets the flock, all warmth, all dripping adoration. He’s pretty sure the bleats of the animals are an equally affectionate reciprocation. There’s no fear in how she approaches them, easy pats to their broad bellies, her palms running and scratching along their cheeks and behind their flickering ears how they seem to like it. All the while talking, the most he ever hears her say, always for the animals. He hangs back, leaning against the side of the car, listening, though trying not to look like he is. She pays particular attention to Avril and Lucy, palm splayed over their sides as she murmurs to them. He has to bite back a laugh when she shoots a pointed look toward the two rams, only just discernible in the quick-fading light. Seeming satisfied with her convening, she starts to pluck and pad back through the brush toward him.

“Dinner?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Just tell me how I can help.” 

He’s never known how to cook well. Lots of scrambled eggs and pb and js for Sarah growing up, an errant casserole from a well-meaning neighbor every now and again. But Dolores moves like she knows what she’s doing in the kitchen, something confident in the flick of the stove and the stir of something warm and snaring heat. She always gives him the simplest tasks, sure in what she tells him to do, a cutting board and a knife and the new, fresh things of the fall chopped up small to melt down in their own savor in the pan. 

He always thanks her when they sit down, and she’s just as bad at receiving that as he is, her chin tucked down in a shake of her head. And that thing, that sickening submission thing she does. Doesn’t even lift fork or knife, hands held in her lap until he starts to chew. He’s tried a few times to wait it out, to see if eventually. But no, he supposes they’d be waiting there all night. Conditioning that has been cemented beneath her skull, that only makes that hate get bigger in his chest. And then he starts to wonder after the cooking, if that isn’t just the same, something that fear taught her how to do. His stomach twists with the thought. 

“Can I ask you something?” He shouldn’t. But she nods, dabbing at the corner of her mouth. So he does. 

“You don’t– do you like to do that?” A vague wave of his hand over to the stove, that. Her shoulders raise, a slight hackle.

“I– I don’t mind it. Yes, I like to.” Two different answers, really, like she decided part-way through the first one that it needed to be paved over with something else. 

“Because you don’t have to, you know.” She winces. He did that. He caused that. By poking and prodding around where he shouldn’t have been. 

“I know, I figure it’s the least I can do though.” He’d like to say no, don’t need to do a thing. Already doing so much. Not keeping score. Not keeping anything. Not being kept. But that’s still too dangerous of a truth, silence settling as they continue to eat, nothing right that could be said. Though he refuses to assume this awful role, to move through the ghost rhythms of her old life. Resolving himself for tomorrow, that he will wait at the table all night if he has to, that the food will go cold if it has to, hollow guts until it becomes something different. Because this must be different, and she must know that it is different. And in small ways, he knows that she does. But he cannot let any of this poison seep through, cannot let any piece of him be associated with husband, with horror. 

After dinner, he doesn’t let her anywhere near the dishes, and it’s about the dishes and it isn’t about the dishes, crowding her out of the kitchen, telling her to go, go read, got this, he’s got this. But when he joins her in the living room, she isn’t reading, sitting on the edge of the couch with her elbows on her knees and the raw skin around her thumb worrying between her teeth. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Shit, stomach sinking at her question. And a swift, silent realization that he is going to have to be more explicit about these things. That hers is a mind on high alert for anything out of place, any word out of tune, and that he will have to be careful, so careful to reassure and remember that. 

“No, that’s not– you haven’t done anything wrong. I– you don’t owe me a thing, do you understand that? I’m serious. I’m not waiting for you to repay anything or earn anything. It’s not like that.” Not like him, what he’d really like to say. Not like a few hundred miles across state lines, what he’d really like to say. And he wishes more than anything that she would understand that by now. But then, how many years worth of unlearning does she have to do? 

She mentioned something about their tenth wedding anniversary, always more liable to talk after half a beer at the bar, close and quiet with him. Husband came home later than he was supposed to and she made a comment about them missing their dinner reservation and he made her sorry for the rest of the night for making a comment about them missing their dinner reservation. So ten years, at least. A whole decade that must be unraveled.

“I want something.” It’s so unexpected that his next inhale gets stuck somewhere in his throat, though he’s quick to catch it, clearing it out as he nods at her.

“Okay, what do you want?” She gets up from the couch, turning to stand in front of him, a few shuffled steps to where he’s standing in the doorway. 

“I don’t know if I should want it.” He does not flinch or freeze when careful fingers curl around his wrist, not even when his pulse jumps as she takes his hand between both of hers, pressed like planes of glass, flat and fragile. 

“Tell me what it is, Dove.” If he moves even the smallest muscle, she might startle, spook, and split away at the edges, so he stays so still, letting her turn his hand this way and that between both of hers, her lashes splayed over the tops of her cheeks in the droop of her eyes. 

“I shouldn’t.” 

“I think you should.”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You will if I tell you.” 

“No, I won’t.” 

“You won’t?”

“I promise I won’t.” She sighs, a long, aching sound that starts one of his own in his chest. Finally, fingers threading with his. 

“This is hard for me.”

“I know it is.” Finally, eyes given to him, flickering up and holding there.

“I can’t, Joel. I’m sorry.” But she doesn’t let go, doesn’t look away. And this has to be enough, he has to make it enough. Not the time to push, to try to take any more from her than she has already given him. Not now, not when her thumb is smoothing a line into the side of his hand. Not when anything more could take all of this away. 

“It’s okay, Dovey. Take your time.” Because he’d give all of it to her, every second he could possibly promise away to her, and there’s no use lying about that now.

Catch and release, her hand already untangling from his, arms crossing over her stomach, closing up all over again. But not nothing. Something different. Something changing, carefully reconfiguring around each other. 

She sits back down on the couch, and it’s wordless, the way that he settles next to her. Nothing asked after, a silent understanding. Both learning, moving with the other. His arm settles over the back of the couch, presence more than anything, and she reciprocates in kind, leaning a little closer, fitting her shoulder under his, hip to hip. It’s slow, glacial really, the way they fit the fact of their bodies around each other. But eventually, his hand settles as a suggestion over her shoulder, and her thigh presses up against his. And the last fall, the last allowance, comes in the way her head tilts to lay against his chest. Fitting together all these strange and broken pieces, until it’s as easy as respiration. 

She can take her time, and his too. This can be as slow as it needs to be. But he thinks that he knows what she wants, and he thinks it’s the same thing he’s been trying so hard to tamp down, to temper and toe some imaginary line against and away from. For now, even the thought that this could be shared is enough, weak with wanting, and he doesn’t care anymore. 

He can want, and so can she. 

..................................

taglist: @casssiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @darkroastjoel @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @beskarandblasters @ratoonstown @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring

[agentnico]

Agatha All Along - season 1 (2024) review

Down down, down the road, down the Witches Road…

Plot: A spell-bound Agatha Harkness regains freedom thanks to a teen's help. Intrigued by his plea, she embarks on the Witches' Road trials to reclaim her powers and discover the teen's motivations.

I’m not going to waffle about my complaints with the current state of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I’ve already rambled on a substantial amount in my previous reviews regarding this subject matter, so let’s leave it at the fact that my opinion and thoughts have not changed. That being said, WandaVision was one of the few enjoyable projects in the post-Endgame MCU era, as it had that original and unique flavour with messing with different television formats, and additionally was interesting in how that show explored the effects of trauma and grief. Naturally due to its success, Disney being Disney and Marvel being Marvel meant a sequel or a spin-off was inevitable. In this case it’s Agatha Harkness, who was played with a lot of funky energy by Kathryn Hahn in WandaVision. As enjoyable as she was, I never considered her to need her own show. I guess really anyone can get their own Disney+ series these days!

Kathryn Hahn is the primary reason to watch Agatha All Along. She’s as enjoyable as ever, cackling and wincing her way through each episode, and it was entertaining to constantly question her moral code, if she’s a villain or if she was turning to the good side. Hahn is great, and I am so glad she’s getting the recognition snd good roles now. As for other cast members, they are okay. Joe Locke as the teen came off a little pretentious, and Patti LuPone was the only witch I actually cared about. Aubrey Plaza as the mysterious Rio ends up being exactly what you expect her to be, and though Plaza nails the sarcasm, it’s nothing you haven’t seen her do before.

In regard to the series’ style, it’s really campy. The trailers in my opinion promised more horror aspects which were not present in the final product, but my main complaint is with the show’s look. It feels cheap. From the costumes to the sets, the whole thing is reminiscent of a CW or SyFy show, and you can tell Disney is probably tightening their budgets following the backlash of recent releases. But with something like Marvel you still expect to see something of visually interesting style, especially as they are sourcing a lot of narratives from comics and graphic novels, which one would assume would inspire more colourful and memorable set pieces. Unfortunately this show doesn’t offer any of that. The best you get is some rip-off witch costumes from other Disney projects, which I felt was more so for Disney to show-off how much Hollywood they own.

As for the narrative, for the most part this show is dull. It’s a very repetitive concept where in every episode our witches take on yet another trial, and though some trials do stand out more than others (episode 7 where a character time-jumps using tarot cards was particularly memorable) as a combined package it meant that catching up every week with a new episode was at times a chore. The other infuriating factor was the endless foreshadowing. This show consistently would bash you over the head with clues of what’s to come, but the clues were so predictable that when the reveals finally did pay-off they were not surprising even remotely. Reminded me a little of that Walk Hard segment where the kid says “ain’t nothing bad gonna happen today” only for him to get spliced in two 5 minutes later.

Superhero fatigue is real everyone! It’s happening! I’m kidding of course, I’m still holding out hope that Marvel and DC will get back to their former glory, but evidently there is still a long ways to go. Agatha All Along didn’t do it for me, however I do admit that Witches Road song is a banger and has been stuck in my head ever since!

Overall score: 4/10

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Five - Part 1

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

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: Hopper breaks into Hawkins Lab, while Nancy and Jonathan confront the forces that took Will and Steph. The boys, and even to their surprise, Steve, ask Mr. Clarke how to travel to another dimension; All while Stephanie frantically starts looking for Will after hearing his cries.

🎲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: 22,544 (In Total)

🎲Date: 7/31/24

🎲Warnings: Heavy Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Funerals; Crying; Talks of Corpses; Being Drugged; Brief Alcohol Consumption; Unwanted Touching; Suggestive Dialogue; Suicidal Thoughts; Minor Blood; A Certain "Curse" Comes Into Play Early; The Byers Family's Mental Strain; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Overprotective Brother; The Harringtons' A+ Parenting; Steve's Emotional Damage & Signing Up To Be A Babysitter; Stephanie & Will Deserved All The Love, man. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Heads up, Readers! This document is split between two parts. For some reason Tumblr said I reach my 1,000 space limit, or something like that and wouldn't let me post it because it's so long. But at the very end of this part will be a spot you can click on for the next. Hopefully where I cut it off makes sense. Hope y'all in for a treat :) - And as you probably will notice when you're reading this, I left out Lonnie, Joyce's ex-husband. I left the scene out of chapter two where Jonathan goes to meet him and inform him that Will is missing. I felt like I really did need to write that, kind of like I don't feel like writing him in this chapter either. He doesn't exactly benefit this story, and this chapter/episode, is the last appearance of the character anyway, so... I just decided to just cut him, and replace his intense "dialogue" with a scene between Joyce and Jonathan. Hope you understand, and enjoy this chapter ❤️

Hopper wasn’t sure what he was even doing or thinking anymore. He got the answers he was looking for, but there were still some follow up questions about those answers that he needed to know. When the horrible, horrible thought crossed his mind about breaking into the morgue and seeing if the poor kids’ bodies were even real, he barely even hesitated. Why he didn’t hesitate kind of scared him. I mean, did deep down he know his doubts might be real?

So he swallowed and drove over to the place, still in his street clothes, hat discarded in his seat, and smelling like cigarettes and three hour old alcohol. He got out of his car, parking illegally, and was surprised to see the receptionist outside the door.

“Hey, Patty. Heading home?” He said, and she perks up upon seeing his face.

“Oh, Chief. Perfect timing. I was just debating if I should call you or not.” She says, confusing him.

“Is there a problem?”

“I…” She sighs. “I-I don’t know. About… ten minutes ago, I would say, a young lad came in and said his brother left something behind and wanted to retrieve it. I let him do it, but I noticed he hasn’t come back. And when I try calling out to the officer in the back I get no response. Frankly, I’m a little freaked out to investigate myself.”

A young lad? An officer? That’s weird. “Did you recognize this man? The one who came in?”

“I don’t recall seeing him this morning. Just Ms. Byers, her son and of course Ms. Henderson. But that’s all I’ve seen all day.” Patty explains before pointing in the distance. “I’m assuming that’s his car.”

Hopper follows her finger, a familiar black BMW was parked a few feet away. If it wasn’t for her pointing it out, he surely would have missed it since the area had poor lighting. It didn’t take him long to realize who’s car that was.

He puts on a front to calm her. “I’ll see what’s going on. Just wait right here. I’ll make it quick. ‘Kay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Chief.”

As soon as he’s inside, his hand is already on his holster. Judging by the car, he knew the Harrington kid was here, which he’s not exactly sure why; But to be honest, him being here was his least concern at the moment. He was more concerned about another officer being here. I mean, this was a morgue, people unfortunately die all the time, whether it was just natural or part of a crime; So it didn’t make any sense why the murders of two local kids would get special treatment.

His mind of course wanders back to the bar earlier where he had to beat the crap out of O’Bannon just to get some answers.

.

“Okay…” Hopper pins him to the wall. “Let’s try this one more time.” He grabs the man by the chin, squeezing. “Who told you to be out there? What were you doing out there?” He watched for an answer, and when he wasn’t getting any, he dialed back his fist.

“I don’t know!” David shouts. “I don’t know. They… they just told me to call it in and not let anybody get too close.

“Get close to what?!”

“The bodies.”

.

The bodies. Someone told him not to get close to the bodies. There was something about Will and Stephanie’s bodies that no one was supposed to get close to, and needed a cop to guard the morgue.

And I am a little afraid to find out why though. As Hopper got closer to the back, he immediately saw something that made him draw out his gun. The cop, whom he didn’t recognize at all, was lying unconscious on the floor (At least he hoped he was unconscious). He runs over quietly, and squats down to check for a pulse. Breathing. That’s good.

Now for the real question is… why was he unconscious? Was this the teenager’s doing? He frowns and pushes open the unlock door carefully, and steps inside. The cold temperature hits him hard but he doesn’t shiver; Maybe it was the adrenaline that was pumping in his veins, and pulled his heart to his feet. It was so eerily quiet, it was like straight out of a horror movie. He had half expected someone to come through the shadows with a knife. As he move inland more, he heard some shuffling and someone muttered, ‘What the fuck’, and then decided to push open the door to the fridge.

He must have startled the other party, which so happened to be the Harrington kid, brown eyes blown wide and (Oh, the irony) a knife pointed his way. They both stared at one another in silence, both surprised to find each other here…

Both surprised that they had the same idea/doubts.

Hopper’s eyes trailed past the boy’s shoulder, landing on the table where he could see the top of the dead girl’s head. What is he–

Then he stops himself when he notices something else. In the tips of Steve’s fingers, he sees a small ball of… cotton. Afraid, but he didn’t show it, he starts walking towards the table, lowering his weapon as Steve sidesteps to give him room – Hopper’s heart almost stops. He sees the incision immediately, and the white fluff pooling out of it. The two of their gazes meet, silence was enough to tell the adult everything. 

Deciding he needed to know more, he pulls the sheet back over the body and slides her back in before searching for another one. In the drawer below, he pulls out Will’s body and pulls the sheet back. It was still a sickening sight to see, despite knowing damn well it was a fake; But he still needed to know. Still not saying any words, Hopper holds his hand out and Steve gets the message and hands over his blade.

With no hesitation, Hopper digs into the realistic flesh, the flesh that was dry and had no prior incisions like it should have, and pulls out the same fluff like the last one. 

Oh, my God. His doubts were real. The bodies were fakes. But if that was the case, where were the children? Closing the blade and handing it back, Hopper grabs the teenager by the bicep and strings him along. “Come on.”

They leave in a hurry, only slowing their pace when they see Patty outside. Hopper puts on a cheeky smile, still holding onto Steve. “Dang, teenagers. Always wanting to do a good prank.” He chuckles. “Everything’s all good. Goodnight, Patty.”

“Uh…” She stares at him, slightly confused but still waves goodbye. “‘Night, Chief.” He drags the boy back to his car, glancing back to make sure she was inside before exploding. 

“Hey, listen–” Steve begins, as he tries to wiggle out of his hold.

“What did I say about forgetting our conversation at school?” Hopper snaps, and let’s go.

He scoffs and gives him a look. “How could I forget? Especially the way you reacted? How could I forget all that?”

“Listen, son, whatever this is–” The adult gestures around. “Is dangerous. Something’s going on, and it’s a dangerous slope.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” Now it was Hopper’s turn to scoff. “Then why the fuck are you running head first into this?”

“‘Cause I had doubts too. I thought about everything, and nothing’s adding up, Chief.” Steve explains, getting a groan from the man. “Nothing’s making sense. They said the two of them drowned in the Quarry, but I highly doubt that. But, who knows! Maybe they did get pushed towards the Quarry, but they also took a shotgun with them. If someone was chasing them to a cliff, why didn’t they use the gun? Why did they feel like they had to make their bodies fake? Were they actually taken and not lost? Or–”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Hopper says, holding his hand up. “I know you have questions, I get that, but you really need to stop and let me handle it.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not letting this go.”

“You should. Before you get hurt.”

“They stuffed my friend like she was a fucking stuffed animal!”

“I thought she wasn’t your friend anymore?” Hopper asked, and Steve shut his mouth and looked away. His face softens a tad. Just a tad. “Listen, something is definitely going on, that’s as clear as day. But when I poked around today, I noticed someone was following me, which means I’m getting close to something that I’m not supposed to.”

“That means you’re on the right track then.”

“Yes. But that’s a track that I don’t want you on.”

“Chief–”

“Steve.” Hopper steps closer, and grabs him by the shoulder. “I know this is an emotional time, but I need you to trust me, and let me do this. Please.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I can’t see another kid get hurt or die on me. So trust me, and stay away. Okay?”

Steve nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. Go home. Be safe. And please, do not do anything stupid.” He warns, because he’s about to do something stupid. But Jim Hopper doesn’t really know Steve Harrington all that well.

Because the teenager was already planning on doing something stupid too.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Besides the migraine, Stephanie wakes up to the sound of screaming. She shoots up from her sleeping form, big blue orbs blown wide and adrenaline starts to spike. Memories came in slowly, remembering the way her body basically gave her the finger and shut off on its own, falling into the deepest, but dreamless sleep. Her body felt colder than usual, and hugs herself for warmth.

What is… She winces at the pain in her temples spike, followed by a small drop of blood coming out of her nose. Slowly, she reaches up to touch, her fingertips stained red. She wonders if she hit her head too hard when she fell over. That could explain the headache, the nosebleed and the feeling of being in a fog. Hopefully she didn’t give herself a concussion. That’s the last thing she needs.

And that’s when she hears the scream again.

She felt a shiver, not from the cold, run down her spine immediately. She knows that scream so familiar now, it’s engraved in the back of her skull.

“Will.” She mutters, and looks around. Sure enough everything was here except for him. “Will?!” And then another scream, and Steph wastes no time to grab her pistol and bolt back towards the house. “WILL!!”

Completely scared – heart beating, head pounding, blood trickled down her chin – and the thought of not losing her footing was keeping her going. She doesn’t know why he was gone. Did he run off on his own? Did the monster get him? She’s not so sure, and she doesn’t care. She just needs to find him and make sure he’s safe. 

“Will!” She shouts again, completely obviously how short the run time was,  and rammed through the back door and–

Right back outside. 

She stumbled to the stop, and her eyes burned in the light, the buttercream sun and the sound of peace, and the feeling of warmth she hasn’t felt for days now. Confusion hits her now, and she suddenly finds herself on her very own lawn that was connected to her very own home. She blinks, and looks around, spinning on her heels like a twirl. Everything looked… normal. No weird snow-like substance falling from the sky, no darkness, no weird plants that pulsate, and drop temperatures close to zero. She was back home, and totally not in a scary place she’s been stuck in.

But how did I– How did I get back here? She touches her head, thinking. None of it made sense. She ran through Will’s back door and now she’s here? Back at her home? The normal version? This doesn’t–

Then, a car pulled into the driveway, making her breath get taken away. It was a 1960s station wagon, her Mom’s car, her Mom’s old car, The one that had gotten totaled in an accident years ago. 

She tilts her head, squinting like it would just change at any second. Why is it–

Then the front door opened in a flash with another shocking sight. Her grandmother, the one that passed away when she was just a kid, was standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her non-sickly face.

// Oh, baby, they’re here // She says, and that’s when she’s hit with another strike to the gut.

Stephanie watched as her barely five year old self shifted around her granny, practically bouncing down the steps towards the yellow car. Her mother gets out first, with a small bundle of cloth in her arms, which her younger self was giggling about.

// Stephanie, come meet your brother, Dustin // She said, with a smile that touched her eyes and soul.

Her younger self laughed as she showed her baby sibling. // Hi, Dustin //

Stephanie stared, the confusion intensifying by hundreds, no even sure what else to say except, “What the fuck…?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper manages to sneak through the door just as a scientist left for the night. He was out of his mind, he knows that for sure, especially since he decided to trespass into Hawkins Labs that seemed more guarded the last time he was here. He was also more out of his mind when he decided to head inside the place that was blocked off and had two large hazardous signs on the entrance. Well… what do they say?

You only live once.

The hallway was short lived, leading right up to a door that was of course locked, and unable to access it without a passkey.

“Shit.” He said, unaware of the two security guards rushing up behind him.

“Hands up!” They shouted, guns drawn. “Forgot all the cameras, bub?”

Hopper decided to play it cool, his face calm with a smile as he slowly turned around, hands in the air. “Look, Dr. Brenner asked for me specifically. Okay? How else do you think I got in here?”

One of the guards raised an eyebrow, using a free hand to reach for his walkie. “What’s your name again?”

“It’s Jim Hopper.” A little chuckle. “Chief Jim Hopper.”

He presses the button. “Yeah, I’ve got Jim Hopper–”

And the Chief landed a punch across his jaw, sending him to the floor and grabbing his gun. He immediately points it to the other party, and pins both his arms against the wall. The guy over the radio shouts what’s going on, but Hopper ignores it and takes the guard’s weapon away from him too.

“Hey…” His fingers latched around the badge. “You mind if I borrow this one?” 

He plucks it off and swipes the card, never taking his eyes on the conscious guard until the door shuts. As soon as he’s in the dark room, Hopper shoots a bullet through the card reader, trapping himself inside.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were back at the Wheeler house, all lounging around in the basement, trying to process everything they heard on the radio.

“What was Will saying? Like home... but dark?” Mike said, pacing around, occasionally glancing at Eleven who was laying in a daze on his couch. He feels a bit bad that they might have pushed her too far tonight.

“And empty.” Lucas adds, face in his hands.

“Empty and cold.” Dustin says, sitting on the steps, a worried look on his face. “Wait, did he say cold? And who was he talking to?”

“Could have been your sister.” Mike suggested.

“No. He said my sister was passed out. There’s no way that was her.” Dustin groans. “That stupid radio kept going in and out.”

“Like home. Like his house?”

Lucas perks up with a snap of his fingers. “Or maybe like Hawkins.”

“Upside down.” El mutters from her spot on the couch.

“What’d she say?”

Mike was suddenly hit with realization and springs over to the table. “Upside down!”

“What?”

“Upside down.” He waves them over, and flips his upside down game board back over. “When El showed us where Will and Steph were, she flipped the board over, remember?” He flips it over again. “Upside down. Dark. Empty.”

“Do you understand what he’s talking about?” Lucas asked, meeting his other friend’s eyes.

“I’ll admit, I’m a little lost.” Dustin said, sheepishly. 

“Guys, come on, just think about it.” Mike pressures. “When El took us to find them, she took us to Will’s house, right?”

“Yeah. And they weren’t there.” Lucas points out.

“But what if they were there? What if we just couldn’t see them? What if they were on the other side? What if–” He flips the board back to its normal side. “This is Hawkins and–”  And then back to the blank side. “This is where they are? The Upside Down.”

Dustin gasps. “Like the Vale of Shadows.” It took his friends a moment to process the reality of this as he fished out his ‘unofficial’ D&D guidebook. He flips to the page he was talking about. “The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you…” He locks fearful eyes with them. “Don’t even see it.”

“An alternate dimension.” Mike realizes, terrified as well. 

“But... how... how do we get there?” Lucas asked, worriedly.

“You cast Shadow Walk.” Dustin answers.

“In real life, dummy.”

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” His blue eyes trail to their sleepy friend. “Maybe she can.”

“Do you know how we get there?” Mike asks, hopefully. “To the Upside Down?”

Unfortunately for them…

She shook her head no.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Will?” Hopper frantically called out into the darkness, frantically scanning the area with his flashlight. “Stephanie?”

From what he can tell, this area mimicked a hospital. The white walls, colorless floors, the cold. I guess he should have suspected the rooms lined in the hallway to be filled with beds, but what he wasn’t expecting was the rooms to be catered with a few stuffed animals and security cameras in them. He also got a sudden wave of sickness when he saw a drawing done by a child on the wall, one that looked pretty recent.

What the hell? And that was his last thought before he could hear alarms blaring in the distance. He was honestly surprised they didn’t sound it sooner. So with a gun back in his hand, Hopper raced frantically down the rest of the halls, checking each room he could find.

“Will? Stephanie? Kids?” He shouts, and picks up speed. Come on. Where are they?

When he reaches the end of the hallway, he finds an elevator. A slight blessing in some way, but he also dreaded what else he might find. Are the kids really here? Or is he really following a thin thread? 

“I see him!” Someone shouts just as the door opens. “Hey! Stop!”

Hopper just gives them a sharp glare as the door seals him inside, heading down yet another level. When he did arrive, this floor was a lot creeper than the last. This time it did have lighting, except only every other light fixture ‘worked’ (It was more flickering on and off), and there was something floating in the air – a substance that looked like snow, but wasn’t. 

“Will? Stephanie?” He manages to yell before breaking into a coughing fit. “W-Will? St-Stephanie? Kids!” He continued to cough, covering his mouth with his elbow as he continued his trek. “What in the world?”

When he entered the room at the end of the hall, he saw something he cannot explain. Stretching along the back wall was a very disgusting looking plant; Black veins shot out like the spiderwebs that were hanging off of them, and the middle of it, the core, seemed to glow a red hue and it was… pulsating. In a strange case of curiosity, Hopper couldn’t help but reach out to touch the stickiness.

What is this thing? And that’s when he catches something moving in the corner of his eye. He whips around, gun out again and starts looking around worriedly. And just like a fucking horror flick, a man in a hazmat suit came right out of the darkness and straight towards him. 

“Hey!” He takes a step back as a warning. “Hey! Hey!”

And then out of the depth again, only this time he did not see, another masked up individuals come from behind–

And plunges a needle into his neck.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan was rushing home rather late. His little… “shopping trip” was cut short by none other than a schoolmate, Nancy Wheeler. Never in his sixteen years on the planet did he think he would get a visit from her – and over something so strange. But now, he was trying to get back home, to tell his mother that she wasn’t insane, that he finally understood what she was saying these past few days.

When he got home the first thing he noticed was there was a big gaping hole on the front of his house. Distressfully, he did his best to rush inside, finding his poor mother shivering with a conveniently placed axe by her feet. It didn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together.

“Mom, what happened?” He asked, and she didn’t even flinch – almost didn’t acknowledge he was even there. 

“Oh… hey, Jonathan.” She said, the exhaustion made her look ten times her age. “How was the shopping?”

“Forget shopping. Jesus, you’re freezing.” He replies, slugging his jacket off and placing it over her. “Just wait right here.”

It took a few minutes to retrieve a few things from the shed, but he managed to nail up a tarp to block the chilly November winds. Holding back the urge to shiver himself, he focuses his strength back onto his mother.

“Mom.” He begins, sitting down next to her (He even takes her cold hands into his own). “What happened?”

“Oh…” She shakes her head with a sniffle. “Nothing, sweety.”

“No, not nothing.” Guilt started to eat at him a bit (Why didn’t he believe his own mother in the first place?). “Why did you take the wall down?”

“Jonathan, it’s nothing–”

“Mom… that thing you saw before–” He swallows “Did it come back?”

She shakes her head again. “Who cares. Maybe it was all in my head after all.”

“No, it was not.” Jonathan reaches inside his jacket pocket, pulling a photo out. “The thing you saw, is this it?”

“Jonathan–”

“Mom, please. Just look.” He gives her a set of pleading eyes. “Please.”

It took a moment, but she did. It took another moment for her to process what she was looking at. And another for the realization to settle in. 

“W-Where did you get this?” Joyce gasps, and points at it.

Jonathan takes a second to think over his story. “Two days after Will and Stephanie disappeared, I decided to look in the area they vanished from. Somehow, I ended up at a house where one of my schoolmates was having a party; Nancy was there with her friend Barbara. Remember Barbara?”

“Yeah, I remember Barbara.”

“Well, you know she’s missing right?”

“I’ve heard. So you…” Joyce gives a look. “You saw her before she went missing?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But before you scold me, I ended up taking pictures of the people at the party, one of them happened to be Barbara when she was alone at the pool.”

“Jonathan–”

“I know, I said wait… Please.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Continue.”

“Okay. So I snapped a picture, and as soon as I snapped it, she was gone.”

“Gone?” Her look intensifies. “What do you mean ‘Gone’?”

“It’s like she vanished out of thin air. I thought it was weird. Kind of freaked me out too, so I left.” He frowns, scared. Even when he found out what may have happened, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “It wasn’t until earlier today that Nancy came up to me and asked to see my photos, from there she revealed she saw something at the house. A man with no face.”

Joyce covered her mouth with her hand, processing. “Oh, my god…”

“Mom, is this what you saw? Is this what came out of the wall the night before?”

She shakes her head eagerly. “Y-Yes. This is what I saw.” She replies, ending with a small sob. “I… I couldn’t hear them, y-your brother and Stephanie, but I just…” She touches her chest, her heart. “I-I just had this feeling that I knew they were there, right next to me and–” She sighs heavily, feeling like she’s losing her mind again.

Jonathan starts rubbing soothing circles on her back, still holding one of her hands. “It’s okay. Take your time. Just… walk me through everything. Please.”

Another sigh, but this time it was for her to steady herself. “Okay. I… started hanging lights, ‘cause when I-I was in the store I felt their presence, the lights on the aisle flickered, so I thought maybe I can get some reaction here. It took a few hours and I did. I said, one blink for ‘Yes’, two blinks for ‘No’. But–” She bites her lips. “It wasn’t giving me the questions I needed, so I painted the wall.”

“The alphabet wall?” He asked, gesturing behind them with his head.

“Y-Yeah.”

“What did you ask them? What did they say?”

“I… I-I really could only get one answer. I asked them, ‘Where are they?’. Then, they gave me a strange response.”

“Which was?”

“‘Right here’.” She points to the floor. “They said, ‘Right here’.” She frowns. “I… I tried asking what that means, but then they told me to ‘Run’. And that’s when that… th-that thing came out of the wall.”

“It came out of the wall, okay. Um–” His eyes glance over to the tarp. “Is that why you took the axe to the wall? Were… were you trying to see if it was in there?”

“No.” Another shake of her head. “I heard him. I heard Will a few hours ago, so I… I peeled back the wallpaper, and… there was this– this bubble type thing inside, and… a-and I could see him, hear him. He was talking, and he was scared. I asked him where he was, and he told me he was here, but it was dark and cold. And… s-something was coming for him, so I told him to run, and…”

“You took down the wall to see if he was there?”

She nods. “Y-Yes.”

“Okay.” He says, nodding to. He was trying to process this. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Um… shit.” He starts rubbing the side of his head. “I… I don’t have an answer for this.”

Joyce laughs quietly. “Yeah, neither do I.” She sighs. “I don’t know… I do know what to do. All I can do is communicate when I can get a hold of him.”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “I guess…”

Suddenly, the lights flickered for a few seconds, and the boombox flipped on. 

.

[ ♪ –or should I go?

If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ] 

.

Jonathan had jumped to his feet when it turned on, and got all defensive. “What the–”

“See?” Joyce said, touching her son’s arm to get him to calm down. “Your brother is here.”

The eldest stared at the box, imagining his little brother laying on the floor with his legs in the air, and adding color to a drawing he’d finished. He felt a bit relieved that his brother was still “around”; But it also made him feel terrible, because…

.

.

.

He has no idea how to get Will back to them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will will admit… that this did not go as he planned or at least hoped it would have. He actually got through to his mother, he actually got to see his mother. Even if it wasn’t the clearest image, he could tell it was her. He wonders when the beast crawled out of the wall earlier it must have left behind some kind of doorway to the other side. The sucky part was, no matter how hard he pushed on that… disgusting bubble it wouldn’t budge. All he could do was explain where he was to her and hoping she understood before the faceless beast returned to hunt.

But Will wasn’t shaking this thing off. This thing seemed to be mad, a bit pissed off with the way the movements were, frustrated even as it let out a few growls and huffs of air. He tried to make a few runs for the door, but everytime it kept lunging and throwing him off track. He felt his heart pounding in his ears as he trips on something, losing the shotgun and literally crawling across the hallway to get away. 

He finds himself on the verge of tears at this point, wondering if this is how his life will end: By dying by a literal monster on his big brother’s bedroom floor. 

Will starts pleading quietly, the beast’s meaty hand reaching out towards him, and at the last minute, Will moves out of the way. The beast ran into Jonathan’s desk  before rerouting and stalking over his prey again. Will curls up into a ball in the corner, muttering ‘I’m sorry’ to everyone he knows…

Then his brother’s boombox fell, turning it right on, and causing the lights to start flickering like a rave. 

.

[ ♪ –or should I go? ♪ ]

.

The beast flitched hard, almost like it was hurt by the vocals coming out of the box. It made a distressful sound, Will uncurling himself to watch this turn of events unfold. 

.

[ ♪ If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ]

.

The thing lets out a shriek and starts jerking its head around, before calling it quits. It practically threw its body out the room, running frantically around the house until it finally got out and disappeared. Will followed carefully, poking his head down the hallway where he was met with silence again. The beast was gone. Like… actually gone. Scared away by The Clash? It almost seemed too good to be true.

.

[ ♪ It’s always tease, tease, tease

You’re happy when I’m on my knees

One day it’s fine and next it’s black

So if you want me– ♪ ] 

.

He comes over and shuts the boombox off with a small smile, and gets an idea. Rummaging around the filth, he started stuffing some cassettes into his coat pockets until they were full before shifting over to pick up the boombox until he remembered something. A boombox is a bit hefty to be lugging around, and what if it gets to be too much and then they have to ditch it? Then what? What could they use? That’s when he remembers his brother had a walkman lying around somewhere. He eventually finds it, and starts making his way back to Stephanie. 

Will did his best to carry everything in his tiny grip, still a little scared that the beast might make an appearance again (It’s not like he could whip out his gun quick enough ‘cause his hands are full), but now he knew it’s weakness. Who knew it was something so silly like music?

Maybe… this could be our way out? He wonders about that, and he also wonders about the way he communicated with his mom earlier. If the beast could travel to both worlds, could it also be their key to getting out of here? Could there be another gate somewhere? It was questions like these that were going to be hard to answer. Hawkins was so big, how long would it take them to search every nook and cranny for a gateway home?

This is something I got to run by Stephanie. Speaking of… When he got closer to where they settled down, he noticed she was actually awake; Sitting on her knees in the grass, looking like she hadn’t noticed his presence yet.

So, she is awake. Weird. I thought she would have run after me when reading the note I left her. But he shrugs it off. Maybe she was more understanding than he thought. With a huge smile on his face, he picks up his pace to tell her the good news.

“Hey, Steph. Before you get mad, I found a way to protect ourselves.” He explains, setting the items down next to her. “When I accidentally turned on the boombox, the monster got all frightened and ran off. I know that sounds weird, but it works! We can roam freely just by playing a song! Isn’t that crazy?”

He was expecting a scolding, maybe even a laugh, or a look of disbelief, but he certainly didn’t think she wouldn’t say anything. He doesn’t recall her being the type of person to give the silent treatment if mad. Will repeated the last sentence to see if he would get something, and that’s when he finally noticed something odd. The girl wasn’t… moving. She was just sitting there on her knees, slightly hunched over, looking like a statue.

He’s not going to lie, it was kind of freaking him out. “Stephanie?” He slowly crouches down in front of her, and brushes a few strands of hair out of her face and nearly falls back.

To his shock he finds her looking paler than the last few days, and her eyes were bloodshot red and dry, but that wasn’t what was scaring him. What was scaring him was the fact that her blue eyes looked unnatural, and that her pupils had completely disappeared from sight. To him, she looked like she was possessed. 

Will finds himself growing pale himself, completely scared of what’s happening to his friend. “Stephanie?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Stephanie couldn’t help but follow them inside. Her grandmother was saying to Claudia all kinds of loving things, as her younger self wouldn’t stop expressing how much she wanted to hold her baby brother. It all seems so surreal, it felt like it happened only yesterday, but it was in fact twelve years ago. 

She runs up the stairs and through the door, as soon as she does, the memory changes. The three of them vanished, and the house looks like it was spruced up more in this scene change. Now, she sees her younger self was a little bit older, Dustin was too, and they both were sitting on the floor in the living room, playing a game on their Atari. 

// You’re cheating // Her brother pouts as soon as the score on pong changes to double digits.

She snorts. // How am I cheating? It only has one control //

// Still cheating //

// Dustin… //

Stephanie smiles at the antics. This was pretty much the same conversation every time they played a video game of some sort. It makes her laugh and feel good every time she thinks about it. But this still doesn’t explain what’s going on.

// Ugh, this doesn’t make any sense! // Dustin, a different version, yells from the dining room table. His head lays across one of his books as his big sister looks over it, perplexed. 

// I don’t remember learning any of this // She mumbles, scratching her head. 

// I’m going to fail… //

// You’re not going to fail //

// I’m totally going to fail //

The oldest shakes her head at his antics. She remembers this too, and despite the hardship of it, he still passed with a B. It’s still better than nothing.

She then nearly jumps out of her shoes when she swears something exploded in her kitchen. She rushes over, finding herself again standing off to the side in disbelief. That’s when she saw her brother standing tall and proud with batter all over his face. 

// Pancakes are done // He said, oblivious to her shock. 

She rubs her face, cringing at the time Dustin tried to make breakfast on his own which was a complete disaster. How he managed to burn and undercook everything was beyond her knowledge. Oh, Dusty.

Then, she perks up again when her little bro is replaced by her mother. Her hair is tied back, and she’s wearing her kiss the cook apron. “Mom?”

// Hey, Ms. Henderson? //

Stephanie gasps quietly and spares a glance to the side where the entrance to the basement was. Just like she thought, she finds herself staring at a young Steve Harrington, probably about eight years old.

“Steve?” She said, taking him in. A little stripe button up shirt, shorts and small bandage on his cheek; He was also flashing a grin with a couple baby teeth missing.

// Yes, Steve? // Claudia said, not taking her eyes off the stove.

// Can we eat downstairs? Fia and I are almost done with our game //

Fia. Her heart clenched at the nickname she hasn’t heard in such a long time. I kind of… miss it. 

I mean, her brother calls her Phanie which was special to her, but that was something only he ever called her. And Steph was just a common nickname to call all ‘Stephanies’. However, Steve’s little nickname for her was really unique and special to her.

Apparently it was still special to her.

Some more was said but she didn’t listen, and before she knew it, little Steve was running back down the stairs. 

“Hey!” She shouts and chases after him. As soon as she gets off the last step she finds herself somewhere different again. She was met with a few flashing strobe lights, loud music and lots of laughter. She recognizes this place rather quickly, it was the roller rink they built in the mall a few years back.

// Steve! Stop! // Her preteen self yells, looking like a newborn colt on rollerblades. She was hanging onto dear life to her best friend who could not stop laughing at her over reaction. 

// You know you’re going to have let go soon // Steve says, as she shakes her head.

// Nope. No way. I don’t want to fall again //

// Falling comes with the practice, you know //

She sends him a look. // Easy for you to say. You haven’t fallen once! //

// What can I say? // He starts slowly pushing her away, only holding onto her hands for support. // I’m just a natural //

// Steve! Please! // She said, a mixture of panic and laughter. // Come on! //

He hums, acting like he was thinking before he lets go of one of her hands. // Oops //

// Steve! // She warns, and slouches a bit to keep herself small so she doesn’t slip.

// Relax, Fia. I wasn’t going to let you go // He replies, truthfully, warmly. // I’ll hold your hand until you’re confident enough. Okay? //

// You better, Harrington //

// I will. Relax. Here // He pulls her back, waiting for her to steady herself again before explaining. // This is what you have to do. First– //

Stephanie couldn’t help but smile. She loves that memory so much. It was so perfect in her eyes. The all American boy was the most elegant roller skater she’s ever seen, and he was so dorky and teasing, but patient while teaching her the ropes. She wishes sometimes she could go back to this day over and over again. I miss this so much. 

.

.

“Little Stevie here can’t protect you any more.”

.

.

And just like that, the scene changes again, only this time it feels more heavy and darker – like it was sucking the soul out of her. She felt so scared all of a sudden, and when she blinked she was sitting at a bar top. The smell of booze, money and cigarettes nearly knocked her over… and sent a chill through her body.

N-No. This was a painful memory she was trying to forget. What was she doing here? What was the point of–

“Are you not having fun, Munchkin?”

Now that voice almost made her die on the spot. Terrified, she slowly turns to her left, finding the only other person inside the place. He was rather tall, 

A bit lanky but built, dark hair and blue eyes. The genes that ran so strong in this family, the genes that her and Dustin hated they both had. And he’s sitting there with a stupid smirk on his bearded face, one that makes her want to crawl into a hole or slap off. She almost couldn’t speak as she felt like she lost her voice.

.

.

.

“D-Dad?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan’s bitter thoughts were pulled back into reality the early next morning by his own mother, who was helping him with his tie.

“Why are we sending daggers at our home phone?” Joyce asked, heavy makeup covering her exhaustion, a black jacket clings to her body that acted like her blouse. 

His gaze follows back to the phone before back to her. “I know we agreed not to talk to him at all, besides it being pointless because Will’s body is a fake, but still. He can’t even give us a call about his own son’s death?”

She finishes his tie, frowning out of sadness with a hint of hate for her ex-husband. “Well, another reason why I’m not with your father. This should be a lesson to you, don’t just settle for the first person that gives you attention, or makes your rebellious phase feel ‘special’. I know I’m not the best mother–”

“You’re the perfect mother.” Jonathan pushes, wholeheartedly. “I know it was hard, but for someone doing it on your own, you always made time for us, loved us, and did only what you thought was best. A thousand times more than whatever dad did. I just…” He gets a bit teary eyed. “I just wished I believed you in the beginning. Maybe things would have been different.”

Joyce chokes down her own sob. “Oh.” She brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re going to make me bawl.”

He quietly laughs. “Sorry.”

“And you know, I’m not upset that you didn’t believe me. I never was, and never will be. I am glad that you came around though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Jonathan?”

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t… don’t do anything stupid, okay? We’re going to go to the funeral, act like we’re in mourning, and when everything is over, we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to figure out what really happened with you brother. Okay?”

He puts on a good smile and nods. “Okay.” Jonathan agrees with a heavy feeling. He knows he agrees, but deep down he’s not. He’ll pretend to grieve, pretend that he mourns his not-so-dead brother, he’ll pretend that he’s not going to do anything with going through his mom first. In reality, it’s the opposite. 

In reality, he’s about to do the stupidest thing in probably his entire life. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Claudia Henderson had to fix her make up for the fifth time already, and she hasn’t even left the house, almost too scared to even leave the door. She was sitting on the couch, a ball tissues in one hand and her baby’s photograph in another. She was shaking all over, trying to hold down more sobs. Her son eventually appeared, dressed in black, pretty curls brushed back neatly, and had a glass of water in his palm.

She looks up, watching him silently offering it. “Oh, thank you, honey.” She replies, gesturing for him to set it down. He does, and scoots next to her. 

Dustin can’t stand that his mom is this way, and half of him wants to blurt out that something about his sister’s and Will’s disappearance doesn’t seem right, and the bodies in the caskets had to be fakes, but he can’t. He can’t go off a theory that has barely any evidence still.

“Oh… look at her face. I’m going to miss her pretty face.” Claudia continues, touching the picture. “Her little curls, her freckles, her… beautiful blue eyes, those…”

Dustin’s heart clenched. “Dad’s eyes…”

“Oh, not him. Not his.” She shakes her head, batting her honey brown orbs. “No. You and your sister’s are so unique.” She reaches up to cup her son’s cheek, him leaning into the touch. “Hers is like a sky and sapphire, and yours is like this cross of sky, this pale blue and, uh…”

He gives her a goofy smile. “A light denim jean.”

That got her to laugh. “A light denim jean, yes. That’s… that’s perfect.” She then pulls him into a hug. “It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to get through this. Together.”

Suddenly Dustin felt the wind get knocked out of him. What if… what if he and his friends were actually wrong? What if they were just imagining everything? What if his big sister was actually dead? 

What if… she really is gone? He couldn’t stop himself from tearing up, a single stray rolling down his cheeks, clenching his sister’s necklace in the palm of his hand like it would make her appear in his arms.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now you know who wasn’t ready for the funeral? I mean how could he when he just woke up in a cold sweat and a dazed look in his eye. Jim Hopper finds himself on his couch, still wearing the same clothes (minus the jacket) that he seemed to have sweated through most of the thin material. It didn’t take long for him to remember what happened last night and immediately bolted up. He takes in his coffee table, which to him seemed way messier than he left it (Plus, there were a lot more empty beer cans than he consumed over the few days).

Grabbing his gun that was right in front of, Hopper wastes no time to run outside with it held high. But as he searched the land that he was all alone on, he didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. He almost started to doubt that last night even occurred. 

Almost. That’s the keyword.

Coming back inside, he examines himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to find the needle marking in his neck. It took a hot minute, the doubt was coming back until his finger picked up the tiniest drop of blood. Now, the paranoia was setting in, and that’s when he started tearing his trailer apart. Anything he could get his hands on, pictures frames, light bulbs, home phones, stereo system, VHS player, cookie jars, anything was torn apart in his hands. He even went so far by cutting open his couch cushions with a knife. 

In a hot, sweating, panting mess, he was about to give up until he noticed he forgot to check his overhead light. Just tall enough to reach it on his own, Hopper carefully unscrews the fixture and that’s when he saw it.

The bug. 

Plucking it off so hard that the wires ripped, he examined it close, the disbelief came first, and ended with sheer anger.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

I guess you could say that Steve “snuck out” of his home, dressed appropriately in black attire, still thinking about what his next “detective” move could be. The funerals were being held together to make it emotionally easier for the families, and everyone in town was welcome to come. His parents wouldn’t have approved, anyone associated with them wouldn’t either, but I guess the “good” thing about coming to the graveyard is that he wouldn’t have to worry about any of them. The only person he knows that will be there is his girlfriend. Speaking of…

Nancy was quick to notice after getting out of the car herself with her family. She was honestly surprised a bit, but didn’t let that weigh her down as she excuses herself to come over.

“Steve?” She said, as he flicked her a sad smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m… I’m good. Really, um–” He replies, fiddling with his hands. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good. How’s your brother doing?”

“Mike?” She takes a quick glance back his way. “He’s coping, I guess. I don’t know. He’s been really quiet.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Steve says, nodding slowly. “Listen, Nance, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other night.”

Nancy shakes her head. “Steve, it’s alright. I get it. You’ll tell me about the relationship with your parents eventually. I honestly really don’t care if you do or not. It’s not my business.”

“I know, but still. I got a little snappy and–”

“Steve, it’s fine. I get–”

“My parents don’t like her.” He blurts out, silencing her. He watches her tilt her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “My parents never… approved of my friendship with Stephanie. She wasn’t up to their… ‘standards’. So…” He sighs. “My parents are probably going to gut me when they find out I’m here.”

“Gut you?” She asked, worriedly. Was it really that bad for him to be here? “Friends or not, she still was a classmate, the least you can do is show up for a quick respect.”

“Yeah, they don’t see it like that. They…” His throat felt dry. Every time he starts remembering a few things about his past, his parents, he just feels like he’s going to shut down and hide. 

“Steve?” Nancy says, pulling him out of the rut. “They… what?” She needs to know more, she wants to know more. She didn’t like that he looked like a kicked puppy. What has his parents done to him?

“She wasn’t like Tommy or Carol, or even you. Steph was sweet and caring, but didn’t dress like a girl should, she didn’t talk like a girl should, she didn’t…” He laughs, a mixture of nerves and distaste towards his parents. “She likes heavy metal, she likes to wear black and stomp around in big combat boots, and she would always do the craziest shit I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t the girl my parents wanted me to hang out with because she wasn’t a ‘girly-girl’. She fits in with the school’s ‘freaks’.”

“Steve…”

“Sometimes… I miss it. I miss going behind my parents’ backs to hang out with her.” He says, sadly. “But I… I had to end it… for her sake.”

Well that’s news. She thought, piqued. “What do you mean by that?”

“I–” His attention was caught by someone else arriving. “I… I’m going to go pay my respects. I’ll catch up to you later, Nance.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles, watching him leave with a heavy heart.

Steve makes his way over to the family he used to call his own; The mother gets out, in her own head, while the brother immediately stops in his tracks – looking like a deer in headlights upon seeing him. 

“Ms. Henderson.” He begins, getting her attention (His throat felt tight again and his chest felt like it was being kicked in). “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Steve?” It takes Claudia a moment to recognize him. “Steve! Oh, my gosh, I do remember you.” She smiles. “You’ve grown quite into a young man.”

Steve blushes a bit. “Uh, thank you. Um, listen I… I know your daughter and I had a bit of a falling out, but I thought it would be alright if I gave you my condolences. If you… approve that of course.”

“Oh, honey, I appreciate it. Friendships, I know, tend to end sometimes, and it can be hard. But I really do appreciate you coming.”

‘That’s good to hear.” He clears his throat and takes a step back. “I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, why don’t you stay?” She said, with her son perking up at the news.

“What?” Dustin said, a bit sharp for his mother’s liking.

“Dustin.” She turned and scolded. Her son gave her a shrug of disbelief, making her sigh. “Sorry. Do you mind staying for the wake? I think it would be nice if we can catch up.”

Steve was honestly lost for words. He’s guessing that Stephanie never actually told them what occurred… at least she didn’t tell her mother the truth. His gaze falls on Dustin who was pouting a bit and looking at the ground; The bitterness he probably had makes Steve wonder if he knew the truth. It was making him feel pretty shitty right now.

Jesus. If his mom wasn’t here I’m sure he would deck me by now. But Steve ignores this and just smiles. “If you insist, Ms. Henderson.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan, or course, ignores his mom’s pleas not to do something stupid. Him and Nancy had both stepped off to the side to discuss their findings, hoping to form some kind of plan of action. “This is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” He says, holding a small map of the area, some places marked with a red X.

Nancy leans in closer. “So, that’s…”

“Steve’s house.” He starts pointing out each mark and their meaning. “And that’s the woods where they found Steph’s car, and that’s my house.”

“It’s all so close.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s... it’s not traveling far.”

Nancy locks eyes with him, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want to go out there.”

“We might not find anything.” He admits with a shrug.

“I found something. And if we do see it… then what?”

He inhales. “We kill it.”

“Kill it?” She said, surprised. “Are you serious?”

“What? You want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the best we’ve got.”

She shakes her head. “Jonathan–”

“What? You can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. You know that.” He points out as she frowns.

“Your mom believed you.”

He averts his eyes from her. “She’s been through enough. It’s time for me to worry about this thing.”

“She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell her when this thing is dead.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin was leaning against the wall next to a table full of snacks and drinks, ruefully chewing on some knock off brand cookies. His daggers were set on Steve who was chatting with his mom for most of the wake now. He still can’t believe he even showed up, the same boy who broke his sister’s heart and reverted her back into a bit of a hermit. Now, he loves his sister, his friends do too (probably as much as he does), but he kind of felt sad that after being disowned by Steve she decided to hang out with them more. Times at the arcade she was always driving them; The past few Halloweens she’s been stuck with them; A few times a week at school they would sneak outside for lunch and have it together. It was sad that no one else wanted to hang out with his sister, and it made him mad in more ways than one because of it. 

Stupid ass people. He thought, taking another harsh bit out of the food.

“Uh, Dustin–” Lucas says, nudging him a bit. “Maybe try to be a little more subtle on the lasers you’re shooting out at Steve.”

Dustin doesn’t answer his question, instead replying with, “These aren’t real Nilla Wafers.”

“Alright enough about him for a moment.” Mike interrupts, and tries to be the reasonable one. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” Dustin mumbled, turning and taking another handful of cookies, making his friend sigh.

As the boys were distracted a bit, Steve had finally finished the nice chat with Claudia. He almost forgot how sweet she was, and how he remembers he wishes his own mother was like that. It could explain why he was always over at Stephanie’s house when he was young (he kind of misses it). He excused himself for something to drink, only to accidentally wander into another conversation that couldn’t help but hearing. 

Mike sighs. “Mr. Clarke. We were going to ask him our questions about another dimension.” 

“Oh, right. Another dimension.” Dustin says, nonchalantly, his friends looking at each other with confusion. 

“What’s your deal, man?” Lucas asked, confused on the sudden attitude change (and both him and Mike know it’s not about Steve). 

“My deal is what if I’m actually wrong? What if they really are dead?” 

Lucas made a look. “Dude, I’m supposed to be the skeptical one here. And besides, you’re the one who told us about hearing Will over the radio.”

“This funeral must be messing with your head.” Mike points out. “Will and Steph are alive. Where they are, we don’t know. But we aren’t going to know if we don’t ask Mr. Clarke about dimensional travel.”

“Yeah, man. Don’t be so down yet.” Lucas pats him on the back, before pointing out something. “Look. There he is.”

The Wheeler boy makes the first move, looking a bit sluggish to suggest he was sad. “Mr. Clarke?” 

“Oh, hey there.” He says, sending them a bittersweet smile. “How are you boys holding up?”

“We’re in... mourning.” Lucas replies, pretending to be glum too.

“We were wondering if you had time to talk?” Mike asks, nervously.

“We have some questions.”

“A lot of questions.” Steve says out of the blue, shocking the kids who were not expecting this. As the kids looked like they were fishes out of water, Mr. Clarke was overjoyed to see him.

“Ah, Steven. I haven’t seen you in a while. My, you’ve grown to be quite the stud.” He replies, his ex-student bowing with excitement. 

“You flatter me. Uh… the boys here were sharing a few things with me that I couldn’t really answer.” Steve points out, still having no idea where this was going and hopes he doesn’t screw it up. “But uh, hey! I always remember you were a man of answers.”

That seemed to fuel the adult’s ego a bit and got him more excited. “Oh, well, I can certainly try. Uh–” He gestures to an open table. “Let’s talk.”

Mike sits and is the first to speak, “So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Sagan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?”

“Yeah, sure. Theoretically.”

“Right, theoretically.”

“So, theoretically, how do we travel there?” Lucas asks, getting right into it.

“Ah.” Mr. Clarke nods. “You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett’s Many-Worlds Interpretation, haven’t you?” 

The boys subtly glanced at each other, having no clue who he was talking about; Even Steve was trying to remember if he ever learned this when was young. But they shook their heads ‘Yes’, and went along with it. 

“Well, basically, there are parallel universes.” The teacher begins. “Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there’s a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened.”

“Yeah, that’s not what they’re talking about.” Steve blurts out, before realizing he spoke. “Right?”

“Y-Yep!” Mike said, nodding eagerly. 

“We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows.” Dustin replies, the anger disappearing for now. “You know the Vale of Shadows?”

Mr. Clarke’s face lights up a bit. “An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic—”

“Yeah, exactly.” Mike butts in, quickly. “If that did exist, a place like the Vale of Shadows, how would we travel there?”

“Theoretically.” Lucas adds.

Mr. Clarke’s gaze locks with Steve’s, who just shrugs. “Hey, I told you I couldn’t answer their questions.” He says, rendering everyone silence.

The teacher took a moment to think this over. “Well…” He picks up an empty paper plate and takes out a pen, drawing two lines and a tiny stick figure on top of it. “Picture... an acrobat… standing on a tightrope.” He shows off his drawing to everyone, before holding in a position where everyone could see.

He continues, “Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules. You can move forwards, or backwards.” He drew an arrow on each side of the figure. “But, what if… right next to our acrobat, there is a flea?” He draws a tiny insect next to it. “Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?”

“Right.” They boys said, intrigued. 

“Here’s where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way…” He draws an arrow between the two lines. “Along the side of the rope. He can even go…” And another below it. “Underneath the rope.”

“Upside down.” The boys said, in unison (Steve just flashed them a confused look).

“Exactly.”

“But we’re not the flea, we’re the acrobat.” Mike asked, everything clicking in place. 

“In this metaphor, yes, we’re the acrobat.” 

“So we can’t go upside down?” Lucas asked, an undertone of concern.

“No.”

“Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?” Dustin asked, hopefully.

“Well…” Mr. Clarke jogs his brain. “You’d have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then…” He folds the plate in half, and aggressively pokes his pen through it. “You create a doorway.”

“Like a gate?”

“Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, almost rolling his eyes at how many times this word was repeated.

“But…” Mike shifts in his seat, another question lingering around. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did, I... I think we’d know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole. Science is neat. But I’m afraid it’s not very forgiving.”

The boys were left awestruck, all three of them looking at each other and agreed on something in silence.

“Wow, uh… thanks, Mr. Clarke.” Mike replies, standing up. “You, uh, really answered our questions.”

“Any time. Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked, as they shook their heads.

“Uh, nope! W-We’re good. We’re, uh…”

“We’re off to grieve some more.” Dustin said, his friends agreeing.

“Yep. Thanks again, Mr. Clarke. See you at school.”

“Uh–” He watches his students leave, a little thrown off by the mood swings. “See you around.”

“I… better see what’s up with them.” Steve replies, taking a stand too. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too.”

Steve quickened his pace to catch up with the group that was now outside, a small part of him can’t believe what he’s about to do or say. “I didn’t know you guys felt the same way.”

“Why are you following us?” Mike asked, stopping with annoyance all over his face.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bud in, but it just so happens that you guys feel the same way I do about this situation surrounding Stephanie and Will.”

Lucas rolls his eyes for real this time. “Ignore him. He probably just feels bad.” He says, and they started walking away, wanting some time alone to think their plan over.

“No, guys, come on. Listen to me.” 

“Stop following us, man.”

“Guys, just a moment of your time–”

“Leave us alone.” Mike snaps harshly. 

Steve sighs heavily, the debating he felt was necessary was suddenly over and he finally lets it out. “Her body’s fake!”

And like pressing pause on a TV, the boys immediately stopped. It took them a moment, a solid moment to process what he’d just said before turning around and staring like he was crazy.

Dustin was the first one to speak, the fierceness he spoke with earlier had returned with a hint of disbelief. “What?”

Well there’s no backing down now. Steve thought, and went along with the punches. “I went to the morgue last night, with the Police Chief. Your sister’s and Will’s bodies are fake. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever happened to them, someone doesn’t want people to know how, what or why.”

“You went to the morgue?” Lucas said, after another moment, to process what he just admitted.

“With the Police Chief?” Mike adds.

Dustin shakes his head, not sure how he feels about this. “H-How do I know you’re not lying? You’re the reason my sister was in a rut that whole school year.”

Steve frowns, apologetically. “Listen, I’ll admit I was an asshole, but despite that, I would never, ever lie about something like this. Even if someone I didn’t know, I would never snoop that low. And…” He shifts his weight around. “And if you don’t believe me, you can call the Chief yourself. Although, he’d probably be pretty mad because he told me to forget about what I saw. So…”

Forget being gutted by my parents later, he would definitely kill me on sight if he knew about this. Steve waits anxiously as the boys look at each other, mutely communicating like they were doing earlier. 

Lucas looks between them and shrugs (Even Mike does too, as Dustin looks a bit on edge still). “I think he’s telling the truth, man.”

“If he is, why bother?” Dustin asks, looking over at the teenager. “Your friendship’s been long gone with my sister.”

“Yeah, it has.” Steve admits, heart clenching again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I know her, and when I found out the official ruling for her death, I knew something felt off.” His frown deepens. “I was going to do a little investigation on my own, until I overheard you boys talking about how you don’t buy any of this bullshit either.”

Although I’m still a little confused on the whole other dimension thing. But he kept his mouth shut for now as the boys looked at each other again.

“Can you excuse us for a second?” Mike said, turning around and pulling his friends into a huddle. “Listen–”

“No way.” Dustin says, putting his foot down.

Lucas sighs. “Dustin, look, I understand the hate for this guy, but either way, if we take him in or not, he’s going to be snooping around too. You know, you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em, right?”

“Plus, he is older, and he can get away with a lot more shit when things get tough for us.” Mike points out, and they all looked back at him for a second. “Come on, man. The more the merrier, you know?”

Lucas and Mike plead with Dustin with just a look, and soon he caves in.

“Fine.” He says, arms crossed. “But the moment he disrespects my sister, he’s out.” 

“Agreed.” Lucas said, and they disassembled.

“Hey, Steve?” Mike said, getting his attention. “You think you can come over to my house afterwards?”

-To Be Continued-

Read Part 2: Here

~

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[quicktimeeventfull]

god of the fryer

hello all here's (the start of) a death note fast food worker au. you can also read it on dreamwith. cw for abelism & abelist slurs. there is literally no chance whatsoever that i will ever finish or even consider finishing this because working food service at the restaurant this is based on gave me unfixable psychic damage. nonetheless. perhaps you will enjoy this as is.

Light is not above working in a fast food restaurant to put himself through university. He tells himself this mostly because it’s what his father told him, in a slightly exasperated tone, when he’d driven him to work this morning.

“Light,” he’d said, “Plenty of people take on part time jobs to support themselves. You don’t have some special quality which makes you better than them.” Then he’d stopped the car, put on the same wax museum smile he’d used years ago when Sayu was throwing tantrums, and said, “Have a good day at work, son,” in a tone which brokered no argument. 

As of last week, Light doesn’t even live with them anymore. He has his own, terrible little apartment, even though Touhou is easily close enough to bus — his parent’s idea, definitely not his. His father only drove him here today as a last favour. Light feels like he’s being sent to the gallows. He has no idea why this is happening to him.

So here he is, standing in front of what looks like the world’s saddest salad bar but is actually his collection of hamburger toppings while a girl in a backwards baseball cap reads off the menu in a sharp, clipped voice. She is going to be his manager.

“So we’ve got three basic burgers — regular, buttered bun, and regular with an extra bun in the middle.” 

“Like a Big Mac.” 

“Yeah,” she says, blandly, “but calling it that is grounds for instant termination.” 

He stares at her. She sighs. “I’m joking, but still, please don’t call it that. If someone asks for one, just say we have three basic burgers … anyway, we’ve also got a bunch of special edition burgers. There’s a cheat sheet pinned to your station..” She taps a laminated sheet listing a series of increasingly bizarre burger names and the ingredients which go into them. There are six.

Light Yagami, top of his class in every school he’s ever been to, is fairly certain that he does not require a cheat sheet to memorize six hamburgers. 

“All you need to worry about are the toppings, anyway. The guys at the grill will do the patties, and whoever’s on fry will bring you buns. Oh, and anything with mushrooms or fried onions. They’ll do that too. We’ll get you trained on some of that later. It’s honestly pretty simple. You’ll probably fuck some stuff up today, but I’m sure you’ll have it down in a couple of shifts.”

“I won’t fuck anything up,” Light reassures her. She laughs, which he finds offensive.

“Thats the spirit.”

She wanders off towards one of the girls standing next to the grill.

Light exhales slowly. 

The building isn’t as horrible as he was expecting. His vision of the back of a fast food restaurant involves dark, cramped quarters and grease stains on every available surface. In reality, it’s obsessively clean and painted in off whites and a weird salmon colour that isn’t as ugly as it sounds. This makes sense, now that he’s thinking about it — it faces right into the dining area, so the customers can see into it. You can find the grease stains if you look, but they’re mostly around the fry and grill.

His section is shielded by a half wall which he can just barely see over. His toppings (lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pickles, shredded and unshredded cheese, and some strange red and green sauces which he cannot identify) are refrigerated interior of the actual counter, so it’s freezing cold. 

Behind him, everyone is already milling about themselves, talking and nudging each other with a companionability that is equal parts nice to watch and achingly melencholy for reasons he does not with to acknowledge.

He takes his laminated sheet off the counter and scans it. He is very determined to do everything perfectly, especially now that his manager laughed at him for saying that he would. Regardless of what his father said, it’s just hamburgers. He got a perfect score on his entrance exams. He has literally been helping the NPA solve crimes over the dinner table since he was eleven. He can handle this. 

The bell on the front door chimes, and a man in a scrappy white shirt and a hurricane of black hair walks through it, shoulders hunched, and skitters through the dining area, past Light, and towards the break room. Skitters really is the right word for it — he moves like he’s being hunted. 

“God.” The voice comes from behind him. Light flinches, then turns to see his manager beside him, staring at the space where the man had been. “L’s on fry today. Fuck. I told Misa she was absolutely not allowed to switch shifts with him today. I didn’t want to be dealing with him and training someone new.”

There’s a scraping nastiness to her voice which Light does not like. It’s different from the tone she’d sed with him earlier. 

“Is he new, too?” 

She snorts. “Lawliet’s been working here for six months, but he still acts like it’s his first sixteen minutes. Look at it this way, I guess — no matter how badly you do, you’re not going to be the worst one here. He’s kind of a retard.” 

“Oh,” says Light, not sure what to follow that up with. He had not been aware that people said things like that out loud anymore. She seems to mistake this for companionability, and smiles at him. He smiles back, automatically, and she turns and walks away. 

Maybe he should have said something, but it’s his first day, and what is that going to accomplish, really? Keep your head down, he tells himself. It’s just for a little while. If he can figure out whatever the hell his parent’s game is and play it properly, they’ll realize that he doesn’t require whatever lesson they’re trying to teach him and they’ll let him stay at home and eat their food until he graduates and can get an actual job at the NPA which does not involve putting tomatoes on top of lettuce or calling your coworkers retards. 

He stares at his little laminated sheet of six varieties of the exact same food. From the corner of his eye, he can see L scuttling out of the break room, a baseball cam jammed on top of his mass of black hair. He does not join in with everyone’s chatter. 

Someone sprays something on the grill and a cloud of grease rises up towards the ceiling. Not to be dramatic, but he already wants to throw himself into the fryer. 

---

He is a burger god. Of course he is. His manager — her name is Tomoko, and he should probably start remembering things like that — praises him loudly for his formidable talents in memorizing the six recipes and remembering to put the toppings on buns instead of, what, his face. It’s absurdly easy, but they seem impressed for some reason. So that’s neat. 

The less great part is that people absolutely will not stop shouting. They aren’t angry. This just appears to be the only way anyone knows how to communicate. Literally everything — the need to restock the lettuce, the number of french fries L needs to make, whenever L needs to drop a chicken into the fryer — requires shouting. To acknowledge the shouting, the shoutee has to shout back. Light is required to shout at the customers whenever he’s finished bagging their burgers, so he is contributing to the problem. 

The only person who isn’t yelling is L, which makes him Light’s favourite person in the restaurant. Right now, possibly Light’s favourite person in the entire world.

Light absolutely despises unnecessary human noise. Even when he takes his exams, he shows up no more than a minute early, so he doesn’t have to sit through the panicked whispers and incessant rustling of papers and pens which always proceeds them. Between all the yelling and the hiss of the grill and the gurgle of the fryers, he’s just about ready to throw himself directly into the meat grinder. 

Luckily, he has always been excellent at coping in adverse situations. So he makes absolutely perfect hamburgers and wraps them with absolutely perfect folds and pairs them with the perfect number of napkins. If he pays total attention to what he’s doing, he can almost ignore all the sounds. 

He’s focusing well enough that it takes him a while to notice that the number of french fries which appear by his side is almost entirely random. Sometimes there are more than he needs, and sometimes there are less. This actually evens itself else nicely, so it doesn’t occur to him that anything is going wrong until Tomoko touches her hand to one of the bags, then makes an irritated noise deep in her throat. 

“These are cold,” she says, and tosses it with what Light personally thinks is excessive force into the trash can. “Just check before you bag them.” 

She marches off. 

He assembles a Seismic burger (three buns, secret sauce, shredded lettuce, fried onions, and a slice of cheese — and shouts at a customer to take it and its associated heart attack. 

From behind him, he can hear a new voice rising up among the clamour. Light stops what he’s doing for the first time since customers started walking in through the doors.

Tomoko is standing in front of L as he cowers back fro her. He must be tall when he stands up properly, but right now he’s just this tangle of limbs trying to knot and disappear into itself. She’s talking in a voice that’s curled like a fist — quiet, but it carries, and Light can’t help but notice how everyone seems to have paused to listen.

“This is the third time I’ve seen you drop double fries,” she says. “And I know it’s not the first because Yagami’s been bagging them cold.” Light feels a twinge of unfairness. No one told him he was doing anything wrong. “And you missed two orders of chicken. Yuri had to come back and cook them herself. I don’t know why you can’t get this --“

“If everyone would just be a little quieter —“ L starts. One of the guys by the grill cuts him off, abandoning any pretence of not listening. 

“How else do you want anyone to tell you what we need?” His voice is acidic, but L looks at him like he’s just thrown him a life raft. 

You’re misunderstanding, Light wants to tell him, the same way people shout advice to characters on television. He’s not being kind to you. That’s not a real question.

“If you could just talk to me instead —“

“Six months,” Tomoko said. “You’ve been here six months. I’m trying to handle a new trainee — who’s already three times as fast as you, by the way — and you’re screwing up the line. 

Someone drops a set of three buns in front of Light. He looks up, startled, then assembles three sets of cheeseburgers and turns back. 

“I apologize,” L is saying now. He’s actually physically stepping back, as if Tomoko’s going to hit him. From the way his voice is getting lower, more ragged, the way it’s speeding up like he needs to rush to the end before all his words topple over, Light can tell he’s trying not to cry. “It will not happen again.”

“I find that difficult to believe, because it’s already happened three times today and it’s been happening for the entire six months you’ve been here. If you want to keep your position —“

“It’s not going to happen again,” L says, words all in a rush now. He’s blinking quickly. “It will not. I can guarantee —“ 

This is absolutely the stupidest situation that Light has seen in his entire life.

There are many people who look down on adults who cry in public. Light has never been one of them. What he hates is people who look for little cracks of vulnerability and press down on them until they break, then hold their hands with their palms out and act like they had nothing to do with the result. It’s a peculiar kind of cruelty. 

It should be patently obvious to anyone that L is trying his best — if that’s not adequate, they should just fire him instead of batting him around like this. The way they’re talking won’t accomplish anything other than getting him even more upset, which has not once in the history of humankind helped anyone do a better job. It’s bad management, and it’s fucking sad and frankly cruel.

Light thinks of the word retard slipped to him like a gift he didn’t wand and which he’d accepted anyway. He sidesteps Yuri as she drops patties onto his station and strides over to L. 

Light steps between him and Tomoko and clamps his hands down on L’s shoulders. L looks up at him. His eyes are wide and so black they’re disorienting, like the aura of the night where a car’s headlamps drop off, and he looks not just upset but actually terrified. 

But he holds Light’s gaze like it’s a shelter being offered to him.

“Okay,” Light says. “Just look at me, okay? Focus. You’re okay. You’re doing fine.” He isn’t, really. It doesn’t matter. The truth is a malleable thing best tossed away in favour of the information which would be most useful in any given situation. “Do you remember what you were supposed to make?”

“Three orders of fries, two with cheese, and three pieces of chicken tenders,” L says, snapped out in a tidy rhythm. 

“Okay,” Light says, “Make that. One at a time. Don’t worry about all this other stuff. It’s got nothing to do with you.” 

“Yes,” L says. He presses his knuckles to his mouth. He’s swallowing hard. 

“You’ve got this. I know you do. You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay,” L says. He nods, once, as if to prove it. That’s why Light asked him — if you can get people to say something about themselves, most of the time they’ll end up believing it.

Light smiles at him. “Then go on.” He squeezes L’s shoulders, grabs one of the fries, and turns away. 

Everyone is staring at him. He finishes his three burgers, wraps them up, and sets them on the counter. “Customer thirty-eight!”

---

“You’re a miracle worker,” Tomoko whispers to him when three hours have gone past and there haven’t been any errors. He smiles at her. He doesn’t think it’s such a miracle — all he did was decide not to treat someone like dirt. 

His miracle lasts for about twenty minutes longer, after which L sends double fries and can’t seem to get back on track, but at least no one starts snapping at him again. 

---

After work, Light steps into the bus shelter and finds L already curled up on the seat, his knees pressed to his chest, staring straight into the traffic. The lights from the passing cars flicker on his face. 

“Which bus are you taking?” Light asks, just for something to say. 

“Oh,” L says. “None. I’m waiting for my brother.” He brings his thumb to his mouth and chews on it. It’s such a bizarre, childlike gesture. His coat, a long army-green thing which hangs off his skeletal frame, seems too thin for this weather.

“Older or younger?” 

“Mm. No.” 

For a moment, Light thinks that L’s batting down the conversation, but he takes another look at the spellbound way L stares out into the rivers of cars and realizes he’s just distracted. “You’re a twin?” 

L tilts his head very slightly. “Still no.” But there’s something different in his voice now — like it’s a game they’re playing, this guesswork. 

“Triplet, then.” 

L smiles. It’s sudden and starting. He tips his head further in Light’s direction and looks at him from the corners of his eyes. 

“Correct, Light-kun.” 

Light wants to say more, but the blue lights of the bus flash across the glass of the shelter. They reflect L’s face, turning him into a strange and scattered thing. Somehow both inhuman and more human than anyone has a right to be. He straightens his messenger back on his shoulder and steps out of the shelter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” he says, then hurries out.

[mrigasiras]

Jyestha is Rohini's counterpart, in mid sidereal Scorpio. While Rohini is the moon's favorite wife, Jyestha is his least favorite.

It is said that one of its deities, Alakshmi, the goddess of misfortune, cursed Rohini, for she was jealous of her beauty and natural ease of life.

The moon is debilitated in Jyestha. It is dry and harsh. Jyestha people themselves may struggle with their own jealousy, but people may also be jealous of them.

The actual presiding deity of this Nakshatra is the powerful king of the gods, Indra. Jyestha natives have a commanding presence that often attracts negative energies towards them.

Nicki Minaj, Jyestha sun.

Jyestha natives learn from a young age that they must work and strive for their own success. The nurturing of their upbringing is not granted to them, so they must learn to fend for themselves, in the dark caverns of the 8th house.

Its symbol is an umbrella. To me, this signifies psychic self defense. Which, when you are a king in the perilous world, and making a name for yourself, you need protection. So they can tend to be into psychological self development, the occult, energy work, etc.

Stephen Hillenberg, who made the original Spongebob series, had Jyestha moon. Spongebob is a happy go lucky, cheerful individual. He naturally attracts things into his life because of his confidence. However, he also attracts jealousy, greed, and hatred from others. The whole show's main theme is pretty much centered around the theme of jealousy and work ethic.

They can be targets for abuse and scapegoating. People feel threatened by their auras and try to suppress them. They are also quite introspective people, and many do not understand their depth, only perceiving them as self centered.

Britney Spears, Jyestha sun. Worked since a child as an actress and singer. Mocked by the public for a very long time and was under a conservatorship.

Kesha, Jyestha ascendant. Abused by her producer and went through a big legal battle. She also has a podcast where she talks about the occult and paranormal.

Damien Echols, Jyestha sun. Was put on death row for 18 years and framed for murder. Learned the art of ceremonial magick and energy work while in prison, and now practices martial arts and self development.

And a couple more Jyestha natives, Paris Hilton and Patti Smith.

Paris Hilton, Jyestha sun, played up the "bimbo" aesthetic and was mocked relentlessly, despite being very intelligent and a self made business woman.

Patti Smith, Jyestha ascendant, worked from a very young age and suffered much "8th house"-esque hardship. Including homelessness, and losing loved ones. One lyric of hers from Piss Factory, "I had to earn my dough, had to earn my dough".

[hawkinspostnewspaper]

STRANGER THINGS: THE FIRST SHADOW SPOILERS - JOYCE MALDONADO

here is a compilation of all things I can recall from the play involving Joyce Maldonado

also to note: some things I am still a little confused about and will need to verify when I see it again soon. I will update as I rememeber things!

Joyce is in charge of directing the high school's musical for the season, directing her fellow schoolmates in her version of 'Dark of the Moon'

As the play revolves around witches and teased by other schoolmates to be about 'lesbians' and sex and all things inappropriate, so they cover it to the principal (Mr Newby, Bob and Patty's father) by pretending to be performing 'Oklahoma'

You can read more about the play here: Dark of the Moon (play) - Wikipedia

She is desperate to be awarded a scholarship for theatre direction as it will be her way out of Hawkins

Her relationship with Lonnie is teased by Walter Henderson who claims she only has eyes for bad boys usually over 25 years old, emphasising their age gap and his misbehaviour

There are few scenes of the two of them to explore their relationship but it is clear he does not believe in her wanting to leave Hawkins and not so supportive of her dream about the theatre scholarship - Lonnie is seen arrested in Hawkins PD too, that bothers Joyce

Bob is said to have a huge crush on Joyce and wants to get involved with the play to interact with her and build confidence to confess, but it seems Joyce is more preoccupied with her own future and getting the play done despite the chaos around her to notice (I will do a separate post for Bob in the play, but the show really emphasises how deeply and how long he loved her, making what happens in the series even worse)

Her opinion of Hopper is that he is lazy and a womaniser and has hurt many girls with his flirtations, though we don't see any of him doing that besides to her (again, I will do another post for Jim) - their relationship throughout the play is very much teasing and underlying hints of flirtation

Joyce, Bob and Hopper end up trying to solve the murder of several pets recently - there is a reward from Claudia Henderson for finding out who killed her pet cat, something Joyce believes Hopper is only in it for rather than to do the right thing

The 'Kids' soundtrack theme plays often when Joyce, Hopper and Bob are on stage together

They are lead to the Creel house, believing Victor to be the murderer

Joyce witnesses Hopper and his father have a fight at the PD when they try and appeal for help and arrest Victor Creel - she asks why he does not stand up to him more and it seems she begins to sympathise with him more here, also as he assures it was not all about the money for him to crack the case but to help and do something good

Hopper offers to drive himself and Joyce out of town, to Mexico or someplace, away from the dull and chaos of Hawkins - we know Joyce wants desperately to leave but she turns down the offer

The pair almost kiss at one point, her hands on his chest but are interrupted by Bob (I think?)

Joyce cast Henry as the lead male principal in her play because of his chemistry with Patty, her female lead - the adults knew Henry in high school

Joyce is pleased when she hears Victor Creel has been arrested, thinking her and Hopper's warning to the PD has helped

She runs into Henry, who all believed was missing since the incident with Patty and Mr Newby at the Creel House - as Hopper and Joyce were in Russia for ST4 they do not yet know what the kids do about Henry being responsible. I can't recall the specific dialogue of this scene but it could be said Joyce has her suspicions after the very tense interaction and then what happens to Patty moments later, Henry then going 'missing' (back in the hands of Brenner) by the end

It could also be inferred that Will was taken because of this interaction, though it doesn't seem to be the intended assumption

An invited guest who runs the scholarship programme attends the play's performance, Joyce is more stressed about controlling her unruly cast but all is well until Patty's tragic accident and she loses the opportunity

It is mentioned she used to work shifts at Enzo's restaurant

Her last scene set four years later in 1963 shows her working at Melvalds, which used to be a bar/diner/hang out spot. Jim visits now in his police training uniform and explains he will be heading out for military/police training/Vietnam

it has to be said that Isabella is an incredibly powerful force in her performance of Joyce and I hope you all get the opportunity to witness it! She has the perfect energy and also sounds so close to Winona without it seeming like a forced impersonation!

[berriblossom]

Hey, Kuki! I was just wondering if you could do hurt to comfort Zhongli x Fem!Child Reader fic where it’s in the past and Zhongli just found them in the rice patties? Like, he was going on for a daily stroll and he saw the child and decided to take them in? This would give more context before all of your other child fics (since they’re based in the present). I absolutely loved your Rubber Ducky story, it didn’t fail to bring tears to my eyes. Take your time to work on this RQ, or you can ignore it if it’s too much to ask for :)

Hello! I was planning on doing this, but thank you for getting me started on it now! I love getting asked about Papa Zhongli and his little swan! Im going to keep this one GN to keep it in place with the series and make it a little more inclusive for the sake of continuity! Hope that's ok!

Zhongli x Gn! Child Reader| Hurt to comfort.

✄---------------------------------

Zhongli was helping you with cleaning your room and all your old toys you don't play with anymore. Despite being too big for you, you held onto old dolls, little nic-nacks, old colorful drawings, and jewelry. But now was the time for you to get rid of them or to donate them to other little kids in need, as Zhongli reminded you.

Zhongli was a little sad at how much you have grown since being in his care. What, it's been about 6 years now? Yes, you were almost big enough to start your own schooling and ready to have more friends outside of Yaoyao and Qiqi. Zhongli didn't think after 6 years he'd feel a little nostalgia sick about how old you get, despite knowing your mental and physical again will be slightly delayed due to your adeptal traits but still. Papa can't reminisce a little.

Zhongli remembered how small you were, how scared you were when he'd try and leave rooms without you being right beside him the whole time.

"Papa! No Leave! No, leave me! Papa!" Zhongli felt his heart break each time you wailed to Madam Ping about how he left you forever while he went to go about his duties for the Wangsheng Funeral parlor. But the most heartbreaking thing was how he originally found you in Qingce Village.

A little while back, the 77th director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor asked her dutiful consultant, Zhongli to go to Qingce to see about a client as he had fallen ill and due to her ever-bending will and intent, the old man could be their next client.

Zhongli despite thinking HuTao's directions were a bit too offensive and blunt sometimes went up to the village despite wanting to hear more from here. The bickering wasn't an option for the director because somehow she would win.

Zhongli felt the warm sun beat down on his neck as he walked across the old rope bridges around the mountains of Qingce. The ex-Geo Archon always relished in the simple beauty of the simple but quiet village. As he walked, he could hear young children cry out and play near the waterfalls. Older people cleaned through the rice patties, and the sounds of the wind blew through the terrain. The shades of orange, yellow, and green, made it seem this village was in its own world.

Zhongli heard a small rustle in one of the patties beside him, turning his head to look, he felt a small tuff at his pant leg. Looking down he meets large [eye color] eyes looking back up at him in awe. You held a little small doll in your hands, your little fingers had little scratches and nicks on them, possibly from running around in the patties and getting a little dirty.

But Zhongli noticed other things too, like how your hair seemed a little messy, and your face had dirt and mud on it. But your small eyes looked at him with such wonder, so much pure joy. It was adorable.

"Hello, may I ask who are you?"

"Hi..." was all you spoke, you bowed your head a little, courtesy Zhongli noted. When that was the end of the conversation, he began to walk closer to the village chief in search for the elder man he was supposed to be with. You waddled after him, clutching onto his pant leg. At first, Zhongli felt a little bothered by it, seeing as you could get hurt but his patience outsmarted him and he allowed you to cling to him. He even began to walk slower so that your little legs could keep up.

When he finally found the elder woman who was the supposed Chief of the village, he began explaining about his position at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, however, the village chief stopped him and pointed out how he had made a new little friend.

"I see the little one has found you, such a surprise. They never like when adults try to crowd them, maybe because you're a new face around here. Hehe, how cute." Granny Ruoxin mentioned. Zhongli just smiled and patted your head, slightly trying to get a move on for this little house visit. But you still followed him, all the way up the hill to the old house.

The man's name was Mr. Xeui. Director HuTao noted he had some family relations in the harbor, however, his wife died about 6 years before him and his adult children worry about his time. Saying "We think he is too sickly and frail, maybe his spirit will move onwards soon." But Zhongli thought maybe his children haven't spoken to their father since a few years ago, because he seemed more than fine. He even met them on the porch.

Mr. Xeui made some tea, allowing Zhongli to sit with him, Granny Ruoxin left to go attend to something near one of the mills.

"I see little one has become fond of you. They really keep to themselves, such a shame. Their stories are so sweet and full of life, remind me of my youth." Mr. Xeui said. Zhongli took a glance around a few times to look at whom the old man was speaking about.

"I'm sorry I don't quite follow, who are you speaking about? Is someone else here with you? If so, I can put them down on your will if I need so Mr. Xeui." Zhongli had a pen and paper in hand, he also noticed the extra cup of tea sitting beside him.

"Look under the table, good sir." The old man nodded again and chuckled at how flabbergasted Zhongli was. But the old god looked down and saw those same wide eyes staring back at him holding their little doll.

"They can be quite talkative when you let them tell their stories. Some remind me of the feats of the illuminated Adepti. Hehehe." The old man sipped his tea and coughed into his hand, quickly grabbing a handkerchief to clean up the extra blood. He smiled down at you when you popped your head up and waved. He patted the table and encouraged you to have some tea. You sat down beside Zhongli and began to slowly sip your tea, even holding onto Zhongli's gloved hand too.

"It seems little [Name] likes you too Mr. Zhongli."

You lazily drank your tea, and Mr. Xeui and Zhongli carried out their original conversation.

"I know my daughter and son are worried for my being good, sir. However, I want you to know that I am fine for the time of now. I hate to envision my timely demise right now." He glanced at you and how you kicked your feet at the side of the chair.

"It's such a shame, I can't leave them anything when I am gone. I wish I could, my wife would have agreed. Is there a way?" Zhongli recalled the many practices of adoption and the fostering of children but seeing as how ill and old Mr. Xeui was, he sadly couldn't bring up one scenario. "I'm sorry dear friend, but I can't write something in your ordeal unless they are blood related or in the binding of a contract. It would go against the Ministry of Civil Affairs' wishes. Maybe perhaps your daughter could-"

"My daughter says with my age and that child, my time will be due soon Mr Zhongli. I think she is out of the question." Mr. Xeui sadly smiled. Zhongli nodded but felt a tinge of pain in the older gentleman's voice, how could anyone be like that to a child? He knew it wasn't his place but Zhongli wanted to ask what good health Mr. Xeui's daughter thinks her father is in?

No longer bringing the topic up again, Zhongli listened to Mr. Xeui hum with you an old hymn about the Adetpi on Mount. Hulao. He held your small hand in his as he repeated the hymn's words back to you.

"The strength of a thousand men, so strong and the might Rex Lapis, for he will be the dawn of the brave and catcher of the weak.."

Zhongli smiled and joined in too, the darkness of the conversation air was left alone for another time.

By the end of the visit, Zhongli walked back to Liyue harbor to deliver the news to HuTao.

Zhongli would visit the village more often, coming to check on Mr. Xeui and his health while catching up on certain things about his ordeal. Zhongli would spend time with you too, playing games, drinking tea, reading stories to you, and even teaching you fun facts about Qingce village and the rice patties. He adored how your eyes filled with wonder.

Playing simple games such as hide and seek, tag, and finders keepers was enough to bring a smile to anyone around. You played with the other children while Zhongli spoke with Mr. Xeui. He could tell though, that you preferred him alone to play with.

By the fifth visit, it was raining.

This time, Zhongli didn't bear a simple smile instead he had a serious face.

He spoke with Granny Ruoxin, she knew all too well the look on his face. Zhongli simply gave his condolences and asked for a letter to be sent on behalf of Mr. Xeui and his daughter's family to Liyue Harbor. "The director and I will be back shortly to carry out the services required for his ceremony. Please if you can, keep in touch with his daughter and her family throughout this process." Granny Ruoxin nodded but held a sad look in her eyes.

"And what about [name]? The poor child has no one now."

In Zhongli's heart, it cracked. Then broke in twain. She was correct, you now had no one. He didn't even know if you knew what was going on. If anyone explained to you the situation. His mind worried on your behalf as well.

"Where are they? Where is [name]?" Granny Ruoxin showed him to her home, and you sat on the porch holding onto the book Mr. Xeui gave you and your dolls. Sat beside you was your bag, possibly all the belongings you owned or were given. Zhongli could tell you had a few tears on your face. Maybe it was the rain, but he didn't want to believe so naively.

He stepped closer to you, crouching down to your eye level, Zhongli asked. "[name]? Hello, sweet thing, what happened?" His voice was gentle. No tone of force or malicious.

You didn't speak, you shook your head and sniffled. Your tears made Zhongli's heart sink deeper into his chest. He opened his arms and brought you close as your sniffles turned into soft cries and wails. Granny Ruoxin shook her head and patted your head, soothing you too. She apologized, and so did Zhongli.

"I am so sorry little one, I'm sorry."

The rest was a blur for Zhongli. The ceremony happened within the course of a few weeks, Granny Ruoxin put you in her care for a short period, even asking the Ministry of Civil Affairs if you could be placed with someone. However, she heard no reply. Director HuTao asked about seeing if she could do anything to help, Mr. Xeui's daughter left and took her father's things with her, but she only left the book he lent you. Noting that she thought it was the last thing you wanted to remember him for. Zhongli wanted to push her into the river for that, but he guessed it had a tone of kindness in it.

When Zhongli came to visit for the last time, she told him of all the things happening but yet no sign of finding your blood relatives or parents. Zhonglie glanced outside the window of her small home, to see you sitting near the waterfall kicking your feet in the water. Holding onto your book and your doll.

Zhongli's soul was eating away at him, he knew if you were put into the Ministry of Affairs care for children, the little light in your eyes would dim further. He couldn't tell how many times he had seen the children of that system turn into the worse of the worse because of so. But he knew Granny Ruoxin couldn't take care of you for fear of what happened to Mr Xeui.

The elder woman could see the turmoil in Zhongli's eyes. She sighed and sipped her tea.

"At this point, you could have the little one huh Mr. Zhongli sir? You are quite young, and seeing as you live in the harbor, you could be quite stable no? [Name] knows of you, and they are comfortable with you. Why not?"

"I don't think that would be possible. I have no experience with children or childcare. I think I wouldn't do so well in such a category."

Granny Ruoxin laughed, she shook her head.

"Do you think all parents know what they are doing when they first have children? Of course not, however, experience comes with practice and time. No one is perfect Mr. Zhongli. But for the sake of little [name], I don't think you need to be."

Zhongli glanced again outside the window, you were hopping in the water now. Granny Ruoxin's words hit him in a soft and tender way. Similar to what Mr. Xeui said to him last.

"Children are gifts to this world, it is up to you if such a gift should be appreciated, no one should be ungrateful for these types of gifts either. Don't you agree Mr. Zhongli?"

Looking back, Zhongli couldn't agree more.

He closed the toy chest that sat in your room took the boxes of old toys to the front of the house and placed them on the table. You were on the floor next to Ganyu and Xiao, coloring and talking about birds and dragons again.

Zhongli knew the moment he took you in as his child, it would never be seen as a regret. He knew Mr. Xeui would be smiling down at him on your behalf. Sure it took some time for him to get some things right, like setting rules and playing mean Papa but it was all worth it for you.

And look at your family now, originally with no one but the waters of Qingce, now you have family all over. In the circle of the Adepti, all the way to the ruling Qixing. He couldn't help was chuckle at how you wave to everyone in the harbor now, smiling and saying "Hello!".

How he smiles when your friends greet you and hug you, even when you show Qiqi your books and remind her you all are best friends. Madam Ping when she holds your hand as you dance in the harbor and get groceries.

And of course, he relishes how when you visit Qingce, you hurriedly run to visit your "Second Granny" Granny Ruoxin. She is more than delighted to hug you and ask you how your days are.

Zhongli accepted the greatest gift he could have now that he was no longer the Geo Archon, and that was you.

You truly were the greatest gift, even from when it was just the two of you, to every night you ate dinner with your family. No matter how busy, a family dinner is every night.

Zhongli was happy, you were his family.

And he was yours too, your Papa.

Tags: @kiiyoooo

(Sorry this took forever!)

[thekingofwinterblog]

Thoughts on some future post canon scenario for the Soul Eater anime?

If i were to write a followup to the Anime, i would focus on 2 overarching conflicts, and use them as backdrops for the main cast's further development.

Those two conflicts would be the age old conflcit between death's side and the witches, and how recent developments would naturally lead to escalation, while the other conflict i would gice focus is the rise of a new kishin, one who's madness was not fear, as we have explored that as far as it can go.

The witches are the secondary conflict of soul eater, but we are never given focus on it as two sides, just individual witches like medusa and her sisters.

You can easily change that however, and use the fact the two sides did not make peace in the anime for a sequel story.

Especially because something has changed. Something that would lohically be the next step in escalation.

The death of Kishin Asura proved that not only could the great old ones be defeated... It also showed how. By hitting them with an embodiment of their opposite.

That completely changes the ballgame when the next shinigami rises to take his father's place, because following the death of asura, the witches under mabaa would probably be very, very interested in doing to him, what Maka did to Asura.

I would have them try to turn this concept into an art, using magical science and understanding into discovering the exact in-universe mechanics behind this, and how to sinplify the process... Or maybe even use it as the basis for successfully taking control over a great old one that witches through both the anime and manga kept trying to do with Asura.

Excalibur has always been a true joke character... But imagine his power under the control of an antagonistic witch.

That would be both terrifying... And also keeping in theme with what Asura said at the end.

Even if Maka defeated him, some new, great evil would arise. A second, an heir, a successor, whatever, someone would rise to fill his void.

That was a risk Maka understood and accepted as she crushed Asura. She just did not care, because she refused to live her life in fear. If it did, she would handle it when the day came.

It also would ahow that Shinigami wasnt exagerating when he described the conflict between witches and his side as one of eternal esxalation.

Of course, this new stage of an age old conflict, and the potential rise of a new great Kishin would mainly be there to serve as the backdrop for our main cast. I would also very distinctly be taking this story in a more romantic development for all of them, exporing the fact that as the series ended, any followup would certainly have them be young adults.

Obviously kid's story would be about actually having taken his father's place, and actually having to continue his father's conflicts... As well as how Patty and Liz would fit into it. Has he considered the fact that just like his father he would outlive every single one of his friends and comrades? How would he react to that? We know how his father reacted to fear... He ripped it out and made Asura. But Kid is a new shinigami, that will have to find his own way.

As for the sisters, what do they want? Are they content to live as Kid's guns until the day they die? And if so, will that be as friends, or do they want aomething more out of it?

Tsubaki and Black star would be very similar to the manga journey, but with the cqveat that Black Star in this universe did not kill Mizune... Im not exactly sure how i would have his overall journey change as a result, but i feel that this moment was a truly decisive one in his development, so having him take a different route should have consequences.

As for Tsubaki, i'll be real, out of all the weapons she is by far the one that NEEDED to take her relationship with her weapon to the next level if you want her to actually develop as a character, but she just doesnt have many other routes to take... And it's not as if her wanting to take the next step with Black Star is a bad next step for her.

And finally we have Maka, Soul and Crona.

Now there are two sides of these i would explore. The romance, and the non romance.

The non-romance part is exploring their family lives. Medusa isn't dead for one, so that is something that needs to be adressed, but it's hardly the only one.

Soul and Maka both have families they love, but have run away from for various reasons, and in different ways. With Maka i would have her and Crona talk about it, and have Maka begin to come to terms with the fact that her mother abandoned her... Leading to them tracking her down. Wheter or she comes back home with them or not, the main focus would be closure.

Maka and her mother reaffirming their love for each other, while also not sweeping the very real faults of mrs albarn and how she handled her divorce under the rug. Maybe with maka having the realisation that she simply does not understand her mother, or that her mother simply is not capable or doing what she did, and taking another leap of faith like she did after Crona betrayed her.

As for Soul I would absolutely have him having to interact with his family(after he becomes a death scythe) again, but exploring their issues from a different angle, namely that for all his feelings of inaduqasies, his family never really regarded him as lesser in any way, and quite on the contrary, are really proud of him for becoming a death scythe.

Having to confront the fact that everything you saw wrong with the world is a bitter pill to swallow... But absolutely great for a character arc. It's mundane, but also a great window into Soul's character.

Now with that in mind, i would also use Soul's development for something else.

Namely having his newfound courage to confront things he doesnt like or feel confident aboyt head on lead to conflict, as he now is willing to confront a reality staring him in the face head on.

That conflict being Maka and Crona.

Now it's pretty clear in both the Manga and the anime that soul does have feelings for Maka, with his genderbent self(which represents his ideal idea for a partner) in particular looking very similar to a maka who let her hair grow long...

But that is not the case for Maka, who's ideal partner is a spindly beanpole, with short hair, with an andragonous looking boy that could easily be labled as either gender.

Now while the main cast took this ideal sense to play up what they see as no changes, what this "Ideal" partner represents is actually pretty obvious.

Namely how Crona looked before leaving the school, and by extension going through puberty.

In regards to how i would use this for this sequen to the anime, i would have Soul having to confront the fact the girl he likes in love with someone else... One of his own friends, who the anime seems to suggest moved in with him and maka after the Kishin's defeat.

One who, lets be frank, returns ALL of Maka's feelings.

There is SO much much juicy potential for great character developments and moments especially within the context that there is a very real war going on around all of them, where Maka and Soul need to be at their very best.

Not to mention that this would probably be one topic that would bring out genuine passion in the introverted Crona, who's development with Maka being the most important thing In Crona's life, having the reality that Crona is not the only person who loves Maka could be a very real wakeup that leads to further development.

And of course there is Maka in the middle of it all, where you cpuld handle it from several different angles. She could be the sane man, who is trying to keep their team focused on the mission, who is completely blindsided that Crona and Maka choose NOW of all times to have this discussion... Or you could have her be completely blindsided by the fact that Soul has feelings for her, and chooses to bare them to her before a romantic relationship with Crona(who she likes) has actually taken hold.

There are a lot of ways to handle it, and the aftermath, and subsequent reconnection as the partners have to come to terms with it, and decide where they fo from here. Its rife for great drama, and rooted in the respective character flaws and developments... As opposed to Manga Maka's sudden and out of nowhere fear she is inaduquate compared to soul.

Good character development and drama is built on what is already there, not inventing things whole cloth.

As for the next Kishin, wheter they be an existing character twisted to the path like Crona, or an entierly new character, i would probably play up the fact that the Witches wants to control them, while Death's faction wants to exterminate them... But in the end, it's a friendship from either, or both sides that in the end convinces the Kishin to do what neither Asura or Manga Crona did.

Give up on the power of their own free will, in favor of their bonds with other people, rather than embrace a lonely existence as the strongest thing alive.

Im not sure if i would completely end the conflict between witches and Death like the manga did, but i would definitly lay the groundworks for some kind of lasting peace at the end of season 2, where the two sides are just... TIRED of endless war, back and forths, retalitions and counterstrikes.

I think an uncertain future, but still one where the protagonists choose to give this peace between them a try, similar to the end of the original anime after Asura's defeat, would probably work best.

[when-the-spagheddie-hits-the-fan]

I'm in the BIT Club (IT Book Club)

Each week we read a certain amount of the book and I have thoughts and feelings about IT *Ba Dum Tss*

Warning: There are Spoilers

Week 1

Ch. 1

   I really liked being in Georgie’s perspective, and the whole time he’s describing the basement I kept hearing the Jaws *dun dun* because of future events and just having the knowledge I have from the Miniseries, Movies (and Musical), like, dude, you have no idea how right you are! And that turtle wax made me go, “omg, does Stephen King even realize what he did there?!” and it’s like “yeah, ya goof.”

   Georgie and Bill’s relationship was so siblings. People don’t always write siblings being assholes to each other while also showing that they care about each other. I think the butthole jokes weirdly show that off the best, and Georgie is so cute about Bill saying “shitty butthole” — very little kid of him.   Also, when Georgie kisses Bill on the cheek and Bill tells Georgie to be careful before leaving, I never thought it was weird while watching the other media, so when it was pointed out how unusual it was it got me thinking about why did they do it that time? Was it the turtle or was it just one of those moments that really stands out to you because it was the last time you saw that person and it ended in tragedy or was it something else completely? 

   Something that really surprised me was that an adult “saw” what happened and actually went to go check on Georgie. Any other time I’ve seen this scene it almost always cuts away right after Georgie is attacked so I had no idea. Plus adults suck, so anytime they aren't it’s always wild to me.

Ch. 2

   This chapter is so brutal, obviously. But like, fuck, dude. What adds to the harshness of it all is like this shit has happened and can still happen. My heart felt so disgusted by what those homophobic pricks were doing. And the hopelessness of Don crying out for anyone to help, and running back to Adrian and not being able to anything was so sad and sickening.

   And with Pennywise showing up to finish off Adrian I find myself thinking, not at the time but looking back on it, Pennywise is not as bad as those jackwagons. Is that weird to think? I mean, Pennywise is a murder-crazed space clown god thing, what are those scum sucking fuckwads excuses?

   Something I found interesting is how kinda neutral the cops were? ACAB and all that, but I thought they were gonna be evil and that’s that. But no. Sure they aren’t supportive of the gays but they didn’t go out of their way to fuck with them, and one stopped the first altercation and told the warthog sniffers to fuck off. Again ACAB and at the end of the day they are, but I was kinda thrown for a loop when they weren’t vile creatures.

   On a happier note; the Elmer Curtie part was really funny. Man has a successful gay bar in a small, homophobic town and it takes him 4yrs, give or take, to realize it. Amazing! And when he figures it out he’s like, “Most of my patrons are polite, I never have to pay for damages because girls aren't an issue, and I’m making money?? I see only positives!” Also, it’s totally canon that he ships Don and Adrian.

Ch. 3

   This was a hefty chapter, and my favorite out of the 3 for this week. For a chapter as a whole; I liked the back and forth of who was narrating for each Loser’s parts (other person, that loser, other person, that loser, other person, that loser), and a thought I’m sure no one has had before; IT should really be a TV Series. Chapter 1 and 2 could easily be their own episode, and each of the Losers’ sections could be their own episode too!

   Stan- Okay, starting off strong and sad. Really surprised that Stan is first, and we’re in Patty’s head. I learned way more about Patty than I ever did with the Miniseries and Movies combined. I mean in total her screen is like what? Over 5mins?

   The people need to know that puzzles are Patty’s thing! I repeat, girl has hobbies away from Staniel!!

   That part about her not being allowed in that high society club dance, describing her beautiful dress that made her look like a mermaid, the sound that her heels made on the gravel when walking back to the car, the laughing she hears and how that will affect her even years from now, that shit is crushing. And her and Stan's relationship is so nice and sweet. She doesn’t always get him, but she loves him so much, and they’re each other's person. He’s gentle with her for their first time. I made an audible “awww” when Patty said, “Don’t hurt me, dear.” and he said, “I will never hurt you.” Then the moment got ruined with remembering what’s gonna happen, but I digress.

  So when Patty goes to check on Stan, again, it’s way longer. The one thing that really stood out to me is that she notices all the unusual things Stan is doing, things that he never really does but it’s nothing that she feels like she needs to bring up with him. And then it’s too late, and those out of place things are just playing over and over again in her head. It got me thinking about Georgie's chapter. The kiss and the concerned warning that the brothers do for the last time they would ever see each other. And how it stands out to them but they say nothing about it, and thoughts of these mistakes and what they should have done will stay with (sadly only) Bill forever. And now with Patty. Fuck.

   Two things I can now confidently say now about Stan is he’s autistic and the man fucks!

   This is such a little piece and I haven’t read the whole book so technically the whole picture isn’t there, but Stan is autistic. The way he talks and interacts with people, he’s logical and doesn’t feel the need to explain himself. ‘Cause why would he? He’s right. Speaking as a person that also falls on the spectrum, reading this little bit about Stan at least makes me go, “Hmmm, gonna file that for later.” Also, and I really wish this wasn’t the case, I really appreciate having Stan not come off as cold and heartless. He jokes around and clearly loves his wife. Almost like he's a person and not some broken robot. What a concept!

   On a hornier note, Stan likes sex. The Miniseries understood that. It’s so great that when they leave the clinic, Stan's first words are, “I never do”, and then clarifies, “Think about procreation during.” Noice. I don’t know; I just really like knowing that the dude fucks and he likes it.

   On a final note; I’m interested in finding out why he remembers more than any other losers. Like, I know but I’m curious to see how the book will explain it.

   Richie- Richie has ADD/ADHD!

   From the need to play music (the louder the better) to either help him focus or distract him.

All those voices he does, him wanting to please the people he talks to, and not wanting to say or show what he’s actually feeling or thinking? That is so masking!

   I know with every character there are a lot of thoughts going on in their heads, but Richie’s on a different level. Not only does he have a lot of thoughts, but he’s also talking to a lot of people, using multiple voices, and he’s quick on his feet when on the spot. Plus I know he has the gift of gab (aka never shuts the fuck up), he’s moving around a lot, and he’s keeps getting distracted with little things going on around him. His brain is all over the place.

   Imma call it; Richie wasn’t bullied for his glasses (I mean he was but shush); he was bullied because he has ADD/ADHD! Kids don’t need to know what it is to spot it and hate you for it. Talking from experience as an ADD kid (or that weird annoying girl).

   It’s really sad that the main memories that he remembers is the bullying, the names they called him, and getting beat up.

   I’m glad he had friends that loved and cared about him.

   Also, holy crap! Richie said, “You bet your fur” first!

   Ben- …Okay, real talk? Ben’s part was so funny! I already brought up that the amount of times Ricky Lee’s name was so fucking funny to me here, but the waitress, the lemons, and the amount of stress Ben was giving Ricky Lee was really funny.

   Of course I feel bad for Ben but to be in Ricky Lee’s POV is really something special!

   Sorry, not that much to say. I guess something to add is Ben needs therapy (no duh). In this case I’m talking about his body image issues, and for what he put his body through and I bet is still doing to look “perfect.”

   Eddie- I don’t think I have to bring up examples on why Sonia sucks and is a terrible mother; you saw all the words about her.

   Everything that was shown about Eddie wasn’t surprising. I think reading the source really showed me the fights that he has with himself might be his biggest problem (those words come from his mother but you get it) And I really like that you can tell, even through all his fear, that Eddie is a capable person and is very brave.

   Also, I was expecting Eddie to have a long list about everything he takes but, good lord, that list really did go on forever.

   I don’t know how fans feel about this, considering all the fanfics I read I think I’m really in the minority, but I don’t think Myra is abusive?? At worst, I think she kinda manipulates Eddie into feeling bad and getting her way but like I don’t know, it feels like she’s fucked up like Eddie but in a different way, they both seem to be stuck in this life. Even what I said about the worst seems a bit too much. I actually feel bad for her. I’m really surprised because, again, all the fanfics I’ve read, things I’ve seen online talking about her and Sonia’s similarities, and I guess the little snippet from the second movie shaped my original opinion about her.

   And can I just say, I hate how Stephen King describes fat people. He makes it seem like the biggest sin a person can have is being fat. Like, “Of course they're a bad person. Didn’t you see how big they are? I mean how could you not?! Fat people are so gross!” I just — it makes me uncomfortable. Especially ‘cause, oh I don’t know, BEN! Let’s see how that goes.

   Bev- This is really brutal. Besides Bev beating the ever-loving shit out of Tom and scream-laughing like the beautiful mad lady she is when she's outside, my overall favorite part is how Tom is able to sound cruel and vile but also show just how pathetic and dumb he really is.

   He really is a top tier abuser with no skills of his own, and has the mind of a whiny child. I hope his balls exploded into bloody nothings, and the wounds Bev gave him never heal and he’s unable to cover them so he never forgets what happened and his outside matches his insides. (btw scars are cool and okay but fuck this turd)

   I’m glad Bev found her strength again.

   Bill- I learned you can do anything if you have the unjustified confidence of a white man. I wanted to say that college Bill was being really egotistical, but what the fuck do I know? It worked out great for him. 

   Seriously though, I’m trying really hard not to jump the gun but I know that book adult Bill sucks and the live action adult Bills don’t. And overall Bill seems okay in his section buuuut, I don’t know; I’ll keep trying to take in the book without my prior knowledge.

   I like Audra, and finding out how they met. I think it’s sweet that you wouldn’t think they would have ended up together but they really do seem to love each other. And Audra really seems to care about him. What a nice, good lady. Sure would be a shame if Bill became human trash and taints what they have.