#s4 patch notes

[jamswhams]

I fucked up. Apex is reinstalling

#its on pc tho goodbye iconic s4 to 5 skins #id like to say ill be extra trash bc ive always played controller but idk ive gotten some pc shooter experience since then #and i tjink my gamesense and mi dset got better so who knows #ik the playerbase got better in general tho n im not caught up at allll since like s13 patch notes lmfao #i used to main wattson but i think ill commit to not maining i think thats more in character of me

[cryptidcave-dweller]

If the sparrows weren't down to murder the umbrellas so quickly after finding out about the kugelblitz then Luther would have visited non-stop. Sloane would be getting notifications in the sparrow group chat from Fei and Ben telling her to make the ex-hostage leave.

#the umbrella academy #tua shitpost #random #On that note I have no idea why canonically none of the Hargreeves kids have a personal phone #I know they exist since Patch uses one #It's probably Reggie's fault I just know it #If they introduce cellphones in S4 I want the Hargreeves to be completely bewildered by it #Like forgetting to put it on silent

[madameriasims4]

Basic Reduxe Kitchen

CC Set of 14 BGC Items

A combination of my Back to Basics and Basic Luxe kitchens, because I really liked my mesh for the Luxe ones, but I will always love butcher-block tops more than any other kitchen surface. It's a pretty standard kitchen and I think the file names are self-explanatory, so here are some bullet-points-of-interest:

Like my Basic Luxe kitchen, the counter's end pieces have been changed to an alternate full-tile model and a half-tile model for more customization.

The cabinet also contains half-tile end pieces

This color palette draws a few swatches from the Basic Luxe palette, but I changed the hardware color slightly, and grabbed a bunch of colors from sforz's various palettes

The dining set packages come in two standalone versions: one set that matches the rest of the kitchen's swatches, and another set of 18 solid wood tones (bottom two rows of palette image)

Disclaimer: I re-mapped the UVs for the island tops and some counter tops, so the dirt overlays may be funky-looking. Since you're supposed to clean them when they're dirty anyway I decided it wasn't worth the effort to figure out a seamless texture for them (if you saw the uv map you would understand)

Download link below the cut!

There isn't really much to say about this one! I thought it was going to be an easy project (when will I learn?) but I found some mistakes in the original meshes (nothing big but I'm a perfectionist) and fixed them along the way, which took extra time. And then I spent forever trying to decide on colors, and then trying to trim down the count (I cut 2 whole wood tones which helped decrease the number by about 30%).

I also decided to do custom thumbnails for these, because I liked the way they came out in my Basic Luxe set. I spent about three days manually generating, exporting, editing, and importing thumbnails (and even set up an auto-clicker program to help me!)... only to find out that S4S added a "catalogue thumbnail underlay" option in one of their updates. I'm still mentally recovering from that (read patch notes!!) 😔

Anyway, at least I got to play with ReShade a bunch! I've been mostly using it for screenshots in ESO, which is an online game that I can't pause, so being able to take my time and play with shaders and get juuuuust the right look was a real treat!

I use Peacemaker's No Occluder mod to prevent weird shadows from appliances/cabinets.

Credit: Kitchen Clutter | Solid Wood Texture by @myshunosun

Download (Patreon) Always free, no ads.

#ts4 maxis match #ts4 mm #ts4 cc #ts4 base game cc #ts4 kitchen #my cc #alwaysfreecc

[carigm]

About Dyersfilm’s “leak”

For all of you who don’t know, dyersfilm is an insufferable individual who used to go by the name of swiftlynatalia. She is racist, homophobic, transphobic, and even made fun of her supposed favorite actress’ eating disorder. However, people on Twitter (especially mlvns) entertain her because she had reliable sources during the filming of S4, and after during post production. She had some true leaks, many being the same that Reddit got right, while others only she had. She was also wrong about quite a few things, but generally she was reliable.

It is worth noting though that she is extremely biased against byler (many of the leaks she got wrong for S4 were pertaining their storyline) and absolutely hates the ship.

This time around, she was getting some leaks during the first couple of months of filming to her curious cat, but she herself claimed that these were not reliable leaks whatsoever and that she was pissed because this time she doesn’t have access to the real sources she had for S4. She has complained about this repeatedly for these past few months. The leaks she has gotten tho, many she has mocked and made fun of because they don’t align with what she wants from the show. She also made a “disclaimer” when the show started filming again that she would not be posting leaks about Byler because she hates us all, and yet every single one of those most likely fake leaks she got she posted, and many of them talked about Byler. She would post them and mock them for “clearly being untrue”. She has barely gotten a single Mlvn positive leak this whole time, and when she’s gotten at least something that alludes to them having scenes together she immediately ran to post it and alert all her friends, even tho she herself knows all of these are most likely fake.

For weeks now, her curious cat has been dry af because I guess nda’s are stronger this time, or no one wants to leak shit to her (she’s rude as hell). she posted the following ask 10 days ago. Someone asked her if she knew about any Mike and El scenes and she said no. Keep this in mind for what’s coming next…

Then suddenly yesterday, she alluded to a Jonathan spoiler she’s supposedly pissed about, but refused to post it like she’s done for everything else. People quickly thought it might involve Byler because she said she wasn’t going to post “leaks” about it, even though she had already lol. So they asked her and she said that “yes, it has to do with Byler.”

Then shortly after this someone asked about Mlvn again, this was just today. Again, note how she proceeds to say she knows nothing about Mlvn 😭

Bylers on Twitter noticed her answers about Mlvn and her comment about a supposed byler leak involving Jonathan and started speculating. She ofc noticed this, and not even after an hour of her saying she knows nothing about Mlvn she goes on to say this.

….

She knows nothing but somehow she knows Mlvn is stable? The bipolar disorder of these answers could rival my own bipolar.

Mind you, we all know that she would’ve jumped up at the first opportunity to post any leak that implied Will was pining and miserable, her and her friends would’ve had a field day over it. And yet, she only clarifies this after…

Not to mention how utterly ridiculous this all is. They’ve filmed stuff up until episode 4 (from what we know), why the hell would Will be pining and hung up over Mike if Mlvn is endgame? That makes absolutely no fucking sense. They would have him immediately fully patch things up with Mike and move on, not be hung up on someone he can’t have in the middle of an apocalypse. Especially not after the Duffers said he’s getting a happy ending. Will getting a happy ending but still being in love with Mike halfway through the last season with Mlvn being endgame is absolute lunacy.

Especially when you consider the fact that narratively, in a sense, Will has already moved on. He doesn’t expect anything from Mike, he doesn’t think Mike can like him back. He saw Mike confess his love in front of El, he helped that confession happen. Will literally has no problem with Mlvn anymore pls 😭 He saved them!!

This is the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever read.

Will is somehow upset at Mike not feeling the same way…when Will already believes Mike doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t ever expect any reciprocation 😭

Either she’s wildly twisting this supposed leak out of context to fit her own perceived narrative of what should happen, or she’s straight up lying about this.

And we know she’s lying about Mlvn so…you people decide what you think of this buffoonery lol.

Wait for Reddit leaks y’all. This woman could get a legit leak saying Byler is endgame and dig her own grave before posting it.

#byler

[hawkinsquarry]

don’t think twice, it’s alright

part 1/6 of wraith pinned to the mist

summary: you’re hellbent on keeping steve safe, but he’s just as hellbent on the same with you. [post s4, some canon divergence]

contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; hurt/comfort with steve receiving; unrealized feelings; descriptions of blood/wounds and stitches; alive eddie we can’t do this without him gang

author’s note: idk. idk guys i just love him

He’s groggy. Waking up slowly and gently. Disoriented and so tired he’d might as well give up, but the voices he hears pulls him awake. His heavy lidded eyes slowly force their way open, revealing nothing but a very dark blur.

“Hey,” he hears. He can suddenly feel hands on his forehead, something hard pressed into his thigh. His brows furrow and a bit of panic kicks in. The last thing he remembers is an ungodly creature swinging at him, and now he’s here.

“Hey,” he hears again, and it’s a little clearer now. He relaxes, blinks a couple of times until his vision focuses in on you. “Steve.”

“Oh,” he sighs, relaxing. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you smile. Your hands are on his forehead and it’s then that he notices the dull ache there. He winces and tries to move a hand up, but yours gently pushes it back down. His stomach flips but he doesn’t have his bearings enough to understand why. If he’d been a little less dizzy, he would have noticed the blood on your fingers. “Easy, Steve. It’s okay.”

“‘s goin’ on?” he slurs.

“Nothin’ really,” you say. Something touches right above his eyebrow. “You got a little scratch, that’s all. You remember waking up a few minutes ago?”

He thinks about it hard for a minute before shaking his head. He feels like he would have remembered if you were there. “Uh-uh.”

“That’s okay.” Your voice is warm and soothing. Steve leans into it, relaxing a little further, letting you do whatever. “I’m just patching it up, okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”

He scrunches his nose and thinks about it again. “Feel kinda weird.”

“Yeah,” you laugh lightly. “Eddie gave me a Vicodin for you, probably feeling that.”

“Mmm.”’

“You ever have it before?”

He focuses on your voice. “Party once.”

“Really? Who’d’ve thought, huh?”

He smiles lazily, one eye falling shut as the other stays open. His vision is clearing now. Your face is inches from his as you examine the scratch on his forehead, your brows furrowed and your lips downturned. He frowns then, too. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you say again. “Trying to figure out if you have highlights.”

He sighs. With your face so close to his, all he can really feel is a longing that tugs deep in his chest and makes his stomach flip. The pads of your fingers work easy on him, and he can see you biting your cheek in concentration. If he had the energy, he’d lean up to kiss you; instead, he lays and watches, melting at your attention.

“Where are we?”

“Nancy’s.” You pull away with a cotton gauze pad and his eyes widen at the blood. “No, it’s okay, Steve, it’s not bad. Promise. Robin says she’s seen you look worse.”

“Robin,” he repeats. “Where’s Robin?”

“She’s safe, she’s here,” you soothe. Something wet touches his forehead and he correctly assumes it’s rubbing alcohol. He can’t feel the sting, but the smell makes him shiver, albeit quells his nausea. “She’s upstairs with everyone. Everyone’s safe.”

Steve closes his eyes and exhales shakily. He jumps a little when you take his hand, giving it a little squeeze. He feels warm at the attention.

“You did good,” you whisper. “But if you ever jump out in front of something again, I’m gonna kill you.”

He laughs bluntly and forces his eyes open again. You’re away from him now. He deflates, searching for you, finding you again in front of him packing up a first aid kit. He sees some floss unraveled and his brows knit together again.

“What’s the floss for?”

“Don’t move your eyebrows, okay? You’ll make it bleed again.”

He gives up on the floss, watching you roll it back up. You grab something small and press it into your palm, which he now realizes is covered in blood. He gasps and tries to sit up, but you quickly shush him and push him back down onto the blankets and pillows below him.

“It’s okay -“

“Why are you bleeding?” he asks, his voice cracking, that panic coming back even though he’s almost delusional with sedation. “What happened?”

You blink. “It’s old blood, I’m not bleeding. I promise.”

“Did something hurt you?” he’s trying to push up again, and you lay him back down, holding him there gently with your hands. “What did I do?”

“You did nothing!” You’re almost admonishing him for it, eyes wild with something Steve can’t decipher. “You - Steve, Christ, you make me so mad sometimes.”

“Why?” he asks stupidly.

Your jaw sets and tears pool in your lash line. “Because - I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Can you please just lay here for me?”

He’ll find out later that the blood on your hands is his, but he’s quick to follow your instructions, especially after seeing you so upset. You tuck him in with a blanket, your blood caked hands pushing his hair away from his face. “I’m just going to clean up, okay? Gonna let everyone know you’re alright, and we’ll be back. Do you feel okay?”

Steve can only stare at you. You’re so pretty when you’re upset, and he knows he shouldn’t think that, but wow. Your eyes really sparkle when they’re wet. You’re an angel above him in the dim light of the Wheeler’s basement, a lamp on behind you acting as a halo. He licks his lips and tastes metal, but he doesn’t quite notice. “You’ll come back?”

You sigh and cup his cheek. “Yeah, Steve, I’ll be back, okay?”

He reaches up to put his hand over yours. “Okay.”

It’s not that he’s never really noticed you before, or how his chest gets tight when you’re around, or how he feels like he’d rather go mad and get hurt than ever see you bleed. But it’s like he’s gotten some sense knocked into him. As he watches you descend upstairs, a harsh tug pulls between his nose and throat. He has to focus to not cry, not wanting his brows to furrow and make him bleed like you warned. A shaking, painful exhale escapes his lips. He wants to be good for you and listen to you and never make you mad at him again.

But, that all said, he’ll jump in front of a thousand Demogorgons if it kept you safe.

You could hear everyone pacing upstairs while you stitched Steve up, and as you push the door open with your hip, holding your hands up and away from you, everyone sprints over. They look at you expectantly, a little too intensely, and you have to laugh a little. “He’s okay.”

Robin sighs, eyes avoiding your hands. “He’s an idiot,” she says, for the millionth time. “He’s such an idiot.”

Eddie’s got his head in his hands at the kitchen island. He’s been offering everyone Ativan, but he’s the only one who’s taken any. When he looks up at you he fake gags at the blood on your hands. You roll your eyes and head for the sink, grateful when Jonathan turns it on for you.

“So, he’s okay?” Nancy asks, stepping towards you. “No, like, lasting damage?”

“Uh.” You think about an answer as you lather up your hands. For the first time, your stomach twists at it. You’d been so focused on being a caretaker that you hadn’t had time to think about everything, but now you feel squeamish. “He might have a scar, and I’m pretty sure he’s on concussion twenty-three, but he’s alert.”

You can’t bring him to the hospital because you’d have to admit you were, in fact, monster hunting, which was a punishable offense. You’re thankful Nancy owned a needle and thread - Steve may have bled out otherwise. One wrong move for any of you could be fatal, even if it could typically be cured with medical attention. You force yourself to not think about that now, about the words he said downstairs, about the way his soft brown eyes were looking at you.

“Can we go see him?” Robin asks, halfway through the door.

“Is he still all - like -“ Eddie says, gesturing to his face and making a blech! noise.

“It’s mostly cleaned up,” you say, scrubbing your nails against the palm of your hand, Karen Wheeler’s pristine sink turning crimson. “He’s still handsome, Eddie, don’t worry. Just - don’t say anything to scare him, alright? He doesn’t know he’s stitched up.”

You’re left alone at the sink, illuminated with red and orange from the outside, a thin curtain blocking your view. You try to be as precise as possible with cleaning yourself up so Steve doesn’t worry again. You’re going to rip him a new one when he’s better, lambast him for ever asking what he did wrong when the only thing he’s ever done was care too much and think too little about himself.

You hear their words downstairs - Robin’s thick voice, Eddie’s exclamations - you looked so badass, dude, you busted that thing up! You think of Dustin and the kids, how mad they were that they weren’t allowed to come with you all tonight, but you all decided to not take any chances with them. You know Dustin’s going to lose his shit the moment he sees the criss-cross pattern on Steve’s forehead and you wonder momentarily if you should give him a call to prepare him.

Just as you’re turning off the sink, Jonathan comes bounding up the stairs, looking a little disheveled.

“Don’t like blood?” you ask, wiping your hands with a paper towel.

“Ha,” he deadpans. “He asked for you.”

Your lips pull into a tight line because you know he’s high on painkillers and he’s fixating on you because you’re the first person he saw when he woke up. Probably has questions about what’s happening, or what the hell you did to him. But when you make it downstairs and kneel beside him, he just frowns. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to clean my hands,” you say, holding them up for him. “All better, see?”

He looks past them and at your face. “You said you’d be back.”

“I am now, aren��t I?”

“Good,” he says, laying back and closing his eyes. “Don’t leave again.”

You swallow, chest aching. “Okay.”

“These guys can go.” He waves his hand lazily. “So goddamn loud.”

Eddie proves his point by bursting into laughter, making Steve wince.

“Okay,” you repeat. “How about we all try to rest a little? It’s almost morning, anyway.”

As everyone disperses, finding their own places among blanket forts and pillows, Steve stares at you very seriously.

You reach forward to ruffle his hair. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

He continues to stare, and just when it’s starting to worry you, he finally blinks like he snapped out of a trance. “Will you stay close to me?”

You laugh softly. “You want your nurse nearby, huh?”

“Huh? No, just you.”

Robin makes a noise off to the side - she’s still close enough to monitor him but far enough away that he can’t kick at her. When you look, she’s fighting back a smile, and the idea that she’s seeing this too makes your chest hot. You look back at him, his eyes already closed, gorgeous and miserable.

“Okay,” you whisper, grabbing a pillow and laying it next to him. His arm searches for you, finding your forearm, and he grips it.

“Don’t leave,” he says again, his voice quaking a little.

“I won’t,” you swear, glancing at the wound on his forehead, an anger swelling inside of you unbearably. “I’m right here.”

#han posts #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader

[diientedegato]

curious if you have any design ideas for nick in tfs?

Yeah!!!! A bit ago I was making one of those ref sheet like the ones I made with Sarah and Duck- but got frustrated lmao. But anyways yes :))

(This one the not so oldish drawing-- gonna copy paste the written down ideas abt s4 Nick design to make it make sense. .....they're just notes though)

Nick (32 yo. 1978)

- Determinant amputee, depending on the story. If Clem jumps down to help Luke at the lake, he doesn't get bit.

If Clem doesn't jump, he'll do it himself, and get bit.

In an Alternate case of the second situation, in S4 has a bullet scar in his abdomen. At the cabin, if Jane attempts to shoot Nick, Sarah will push her but the bullet will still hit him. What a day.

- ring :)

- Military cut jacket, band shirts- (I imagine Nick's father might have pursued a career in music, a fame-seeking endeavor that kept him away from home. Consequently, I believe Nick would have developed an interest in music-. So band shirts :)) (Also military jackets because. Peter.)

- In TWDG timeline the Walkers appear in 2003 (or so the wiki says). At that time, Nick was approx 25 years old. This bastard must have had a Y2K and whatever south Americans style before things went down, so- yeahj. Band shirts must be from when he was a teenage/ya. So like 1980-1990s?

- White hair (stress)

- Friendship bracelet made by Sarah :). (Or a jelly bracelet) He called it stupid when it was given but currently couldn't care less how it looks. He's fond of it.

- Patch, bullet hole, or stains on hat. Worn out.

- The watch. It's there.

- I'm thinking maybe he gets a prosthetic made by the s4 kids..... shrug.....

#digital art #digital illustration #twdg #twdg fanart #twdg s2 #nick twdg #my art #i cant write for shit #also the jane shoots nick im not sure if it was a scrapped content thing or if im trippin

[apatheticlexicographer]

not to be unoriginal but seriously i'm never not thinking about the one way sign and just how gay/byler coded mike's room is in general.

like??? we only get one angle on his room, but all of the decorations except that sign are clearly tied to either his character (past or present) or the plot.

the two black and white art prints are from the basement in a previous season i believe. i haven't watched conan but from what i've heard the plot is some kind of foreshadowing for the russia plotline. pinboards are usually places to display mementos that mean a lot to you, so the couple of wills drawings that can be seen there make sense. the big tiddy dragon man is obviously a d&d thing. even the barely-visible guitar is another nod to how much mike is trying to copy eddie in this season!!!

but the one way sign??? the fuck does that represent??? it's big as hell, directly above the part of the shot you're led to focus on while watching (mike) making it easy to pick up on peripherally on a single watch, and points straight at the closet. with how deliberate literally everything else in his room is, one of the most prominent pieces of decoration being filler makes no sense.

meanwhile he has two images of very muscular male figures on his walls, one of which is dead centre of the shot and has a tiny wizard casting a fireball on it (big tiddy dragon man ilysm) AND has will's art on his corkboard despite being in a rough patch with him and just tossing el's letters away.

(side note: something about his drawings being directly next to the lamp and the recurring association of will and lamps/lights throughout the whole show, and the way the blocking places him under the light sources so frequently when he's with mike. something about his drawings being representative of mike feeling like he's lost him due to the s1 scene with the binder. something about him being mike's light even when they're so physically and emotionally distant from each other. yeah.)

and let it be said, the stranger things set designers DO NOT FUCK AROUND. there are countless instances of people noticing little pieces of set decoration that follow characters throughout the entire show, or innocuous graffiti and posters that foreshadow major story beats. one of my own personal observations from an analysis i never finished is a perfect demonstration:

a trophy in will's room in s2, and a matching one in mike's room in s1. a matching set from one of the party's science fairs, presumably.

another lamp-shaped trophy in will's s4 room...

and an exactly matching trophy from a photo shared on finn wolfhard's instagram IN DECEMBER OF 2017!!! those trophies are such a minor piece of set decoration that i couldn't even find a screencap of mike's that was clear enough to use, but it's still custom embossed. that's how hard the stranger things set design goes.

so the wealth of queercoded and will-centric imagery in mike's room??? the seemingly "random" road sign??? that's not coincidence or laziness, no matter how hard some people will argue that it's not that deep. on the contrary, it's probably substantially deeper than we'll ever know T_T

#byler #sorry this is so unfocused i just have mannny thoughts and opinions #it's an affliction #byler meta #byler analysis #stranger things analysis #stranger things meta #stranger things

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Earthly Encounter

Pairing: Q x Counselor Ruby (s/i)

Word Count: 2,797

Warnings: Very light spoilers for Star Trek: TNG S4 E20, none otherwise

AO3 Link

Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? It feels very nice to be posting a fic again, to be honest. This is just a cute fluffy story that I started like 3 years ago and abandoned because I didn't like the way it came out. I came back to it recently and kinda wondered what the heck I was thinking. Maybe my self esteem is just better! Either way, this was very fun and very cute to write and to perfect, and I hope you guys enjoy it.

Tag list below the cut. Click here or DM me to be added or removed. Reblogs are all seen and very appreciated!! ❤️

@ava-ships, @bee-ships, @beetleboyfriend, @canongf, @clawfull, @cloudyvoid, @discountwives, @dissonantyote, @edencantstopfallininlove, @final-catboy, @gible-love-nibles, @halsdaisy, @hoppinkiss, @hotrodharts, @hyperionshipping, @iyamifucker, @lex-n-weegie, @little-miss-selfships, @little-shiny-sharpies, @loogi-selfships, @lovebugexe, @mintpecks, @mrs-kelly, @nameless-self-ships, @nerdstreak, @paper-carnation, @patches-and-her-selfships, @reds-self-ships, @rexscanonwife, @ship-trek, @spacestationstorybook, @squips-ship, @tiny-cloud-of-flowers, @toogayforthistoday, @p-i-t-s, @winterworlds, @scroldie

Speckles of dust danced in the beams of light shining through the window of the bookstore that Counselor Ruby Ramirez had found herself in on that peaceful afternoon. She fondly ran her fingers across the spines of the books atop the store’s shelf, remembering all of the journeys she’d been on with those stories as a child. It was no wonder this section was labeled as “classics;” even though the shelf stretched to the ceiling and was filled to the brim with books, she hadn’t seen a single title that she didn’t recognize. She spotted a favorite novel of hers, and she was quick to pull it off the shelf and flip to the first chapter. She remembered it all so fondly: the prison and the rose bush, the first piece of literary symbolism that had truly taught her to analyze…

“Oh, what have you got there? Something actually worthwhile, I hope.” The sudden voice in her ear made Ruby snap out of focus with a startled jolt, but even as she whipped her head around to look behind her, she already knew exactly whose smug face she was going to see staring down at her.

“Q! I’ve told you a hundred times not to sneak up on me like that,” Ruby exclaimed as she playfully tapped his chest with the book.

“Hmph, you've hardly said that more than fifty times, actually," Q said with an exasperated eye-roll. "Besides, you can't really call it 'sneaking up' if I’ve been standing right beside you this entire time, my dear.”

Ruby let out a sigh and turned her back to her partner, putting her attention on the book she'd picked out as she leaned her weight back against him. “Well, then, that’s a problem, isn't it? The point of coming here was so you could explore some of the culture that humanity has to offer,” she explained, gesturing to the shelves of books surrounding them. “That meant exploring the selection here by yourself, sweetheart, not just staying glued to me the whole time.”

Q knew this already, of course; this was the second of a four-day vacation that the couple had agreed on taking together, albeit one more reluctantly than the other. He still remembered when Ruby excitedly came up with the idea months ago, the way she had been beaming about how much she could show Q about what it's like to be human. Although he had protested to the trip's merit, the reality was that Q would have taken any excuse to be with his beloved in a way that wasn't disturbing her duties, so he hadn't needed too much persuading.

When Ruby had brought the request for shore leave to Captain Picard, she had described it as "less of a vacation, and more of an experiment.” She had explained, “We've seen already that Q has a sliver of humanity, a seed of compassion nestled deep within him. Perhaps all that it needs to blossom is the right kind of earth?"

While the captain didn't quite agree with the scientific basis of the proposal - or appreciate the wordplay - the Enterprise would already be making a rare orbit of Earth for a routine crew exchange. Many aboard the Enterprise would be taking a few days to visit their families, so there was no reason to deny the counselor the same privilege.

Back in the bookstore, Q was still doing his best to convince Ruby that their time would be better spent, well, anywhere. He placed both his hands on her shoulders to hold her steady against him as he dramatically nuzzled his face into her hair. “But darling, you’re the only thing worth any of my attention on this entire dreadful planet,” he whined.

He suddenly dipped her backwards, making Ruby balance on her heels as he leaned down a great deal to place his face right next to her own and speak in a provocative whisper, “What do you say we just forget about all this and head back home now instead? I'll even indulge you with that ‘cuddling’ nonsense that you enjoy so very much.”

Ruby could already feel her cheeks getting warmer as she failed to fight back a flustered grin; even after all the time she’d been with Q, she had to admit that she was far from being immune to his charms. It wasn’t only what he was saying, but also the eloquent cadences of his voice and the way he was able to stare her down with that alluring gaze that made her fall so hard for him in the first place. Luckily, by now she was at least able to save his suggestion for later rather than give in right away, and she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before replying with a simple, “Very tempting, but no.”

She chose to ignore the way Q rolled his eyes in annoyance for a second time as he pushed her forward again to stand up straight, and instead she showed him the cover of the book in her hands in an attempt to catch his interest. He glanced over the title: The Scarlet Letter. "Look at this, hunny," Ruby said with fondness in her tone, "this was one of the first books I read as a child that sparked my analytical side. I remember the way it made me think about why the author chose to include certain details that might seem pointless, and why the characters would make the choices that they do." She turned her head back up to him and nudged her shoulder against his chest. "It was also the first book that really invested me in romance," she purred with a wink.

Q was not impressed. "It really does sound like a joy, starlight," he huffed sarcastically, "but you have no idea how difficult it is for an omnipotent being like myself to force his imagination to be confined to words on a page."

Ruby had already turned her attention back to the novel at hand. She knew that Q was fond of the sound of his own voice, so allowing him to rant on about the pettiest of inconveniences was the only way he ever felt better about the situation he was in.

Unaware - or just uncaring - that Ruby had turned her attention away, he continued, "Truly, think about it from my perspective. Why would I bother to 'visualize' the events of a novel in my mind, like you lesser beings have to do, when I could simply rewrite reality to bring these events to life? Or better yet, I could probably imagine my own story with a more gripping narrative and satisfying conclusion. In fact, if I may speak honestly, it seems to me that-"

Q's holier-than-thou speech was cut short as he felt a gentle tug on the leg of his trousers, just below the knee. He looked down to see a small child, a boy likely no older than five, staring back up at him with wide hazel eyes. Q grimaced and immediately recoiled his leg, the sudden shift in weight catching Ruby's attention as well. For a moment, there was an intense staredown between the disgusted immortal and the innocent toddler, until at last Q broke the silence and sneered, "Can I help you?"

The child pointed to the top shelf high above his own head. "Can yew get the Robin Hood book for me, mister?" he said politely, a slight lisp to his words as he spoke.

"If I do, will you leave?" Q asked bitterly. The boy's only reply was a thoughtful stare to the side, followed by a smile and enthusiastic nod of his head.

Q hastily located the book on the shelf of the bookcase in front of him, and he didn't hesitate to yank it from the shelving, pinching the very corner of the book between two fingers as he dangled it over the child's head with an outstretched arm, trying to distance himself from the boy as much as possible. "There you are, now please, begone with you."

The boy reached up and took the book into his small hands with a quiet "thank you" as he marveled at the green hardcover and golden cursive lettering. He then looked back up at Q, who had already turned his attention away, hoping for the interaction to be over.

Despite those hopes, the boy suddenly spoke up again. "I like Robin Hood," he lisped.

Q glanced back down with an eyebrow quirked, not even bothering to turn his head as he dryly replied, "Yes, I'm sure you do. Now don't you have somewhere to be?"

The boy shook his head with the same earnest smile on his face, clearly not taking the hint. Before the conversation could continue, though, Ruby - who had been watching this interaction unfold and barely stifling a laugh - stepped forward in front of Q and kneeled down to meet the child's eye level. "You're a fan of Robin Hood, you said?" She asked him with a gentle smile.

The boy gave her another enthusiastic nod and said, “Yeah, my dad tells me the story a lot for bedtime, but he has to go away on a starship, so my mommy said I should read the or… the orange-inal book while he's gone.”

Ruby smiled at his story and adorable mispronunciation. “That's a very good choice. You know, young man,” she said as she reached up behind her to hold onto Q's hand, “my partner Q here is a big fan of Robin Hood too. One time not too long ago, he even made all his friends dress up to act out the story!"

The boy's eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked back up at Q. "Wow, really? Did yew get to be Robin Hood, mister?"

Ruby smiled widely, both because of the boy's reaction and because behind her, she could hear Q faintly saying, "Starlight, what do you think you're doing?" as he recoiled his hand from hers.

But his Starlight wasn't listening; her mischievous side had quickly taken over, and she placed both hands back on her knees as she said with her bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout, "Actually, Q decided to be the big bad Sheriff of Nottingham that taxes all the poor people and makes everyone sad.

"But… that's the guy who Robin Hood fights with," the boy said, staring up at Q curiously. "Why did you wanna be the bad guy, mister Q?"

Ruby turned her head around to meet her partner's eyes. "Yes, why did you want to be the bad guy, Mr. Q?" she parroted the question to him with a cheeky smile.

If all-powerful beings could blush, Q would have been bright red. "Very amusing, Counselor," he huffed, crossing his arms, "but I'm above engaging with this little mindgame of yours. Especially not with this," he gave the small boy a stern glare, "… creature involved."

The boy let out a giggle, making Q arch his eyebrows in shock. It has the audacity to laugh at me?, the immortal brooded in his expansive mind. What could it possibly find so amusing?

"Yew talk funny, mister Q," the child laughed. "I think yew'd be a really funny bad guy."

Ruby chuckled along with him. "Oh, you have no idea, young man."

From around the corner, a soft voice was heard calling out. "Lance? Did you find the book you wanted?" A woman not much older than Ruby stepped forward from behind another aisle of books, and the boy ran to her with his selection brandished above his head.

"Yes, momma! I picked out this Robin Hood book! Mister Q here got it off the shelf for me."

The mother reached down to pick up her child. "Not even gone five minutes and you're already making new friends?"

Q sneered under his breath, "Not quite the word I would use, but-" "That's right!" Ruby addressed the mother, thankful that she hadn't overheard Q's snide remarks. "He's a very sweet boy, he told us all about how he's a big fan of Robin Hood."

"Yep!" The boy beamed proudly. "And, and she said that her partner mister Q played Robin Hood with his friends and, uh, he got to be the Sheriff of Naughty-ham."

"That's Notting-ham," Q enunciated spitefully as he gleaned down at the child. Even if he desperately wanted the interaction to be over, he still would never miss an opportunity to be right about something.

Ruby paid him no mind, in the hopes that the woman would do the same, as she gave both the mother and child a kind grin. "Well, it was lovely to meet you, Lance. I hope you enjoy your book." She took on a tone akin to an ancient English knight as she thumped her a closed hand to her chest theatrically. "Never stop protecting those who can't protect themselves, and fight for justice and truth, just like your Robin Hood."

And unlike Q, she had wanted to say, but she decided that Q had had enough teasing for one day.

Little Lance beamed proudly and copied her motion as he put his own small fist over his chest, clearly taking the words to heart. His mom wore a similar warm grin as she and her son bade the couple farewell and headed toward the checkout counter.

Ruby turned back around to face Q, grinning cheekily up at him as he firmly kept his arms crossed and refused to meet her eye. "That was absolute torture," he groaned, "you know that, right? I'm not sure why I ever agreed to this trip." His partner let out a small laugh at how easy his disposition was to sour, and upon hearing that delightful little giggle of hers that he so dearly adored, he couldn't stop a smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked back down at her.

She chirped, "I'm sorry, my darling, but you know I can't resist teasing you.” A smirk overtook her face. “Besides, I believe I remember someone very intelligent once saying that one creature's torment is another's delight."

Q's eyebrows shot up in surprise before lowering in satisfaction, a grin snaking its way across his face as he pulled Ruby in close by her hips. If he had to make a list of all of his favorite things about her, the way that she was able to match his wit so effortlessly would easily clear the top three. Q was more than used to looking down on mortals, feeling superior to them, and he was somewhat justified in feeling so; even when encountering creatures cognitive enough to communicate, it was hardly ever that he came across one that didn't immediately bore him. Even with humans, as fascinating as the species itself was, the individuals were hardly worth stopping for. But there were always exceptions, and no exception has seized his attention, gained his respect, and retained his adoration more wholly than his Ruby.

Indifferent to who around may be watching, Q leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ruby's, allowing her to reach up and hold his face as he kissed her slowly and deliberately.

He just barely pulled away to groan against her lips, "I hope you appreciate my generous patience with you in situations like this." Ruby felt a shudder go through her body; as much as she saw and treated Q as an equal, she couldn't deny that, on occasion, she was exhilarated by the power he always had the capability of holding over her. She brushed any growing stimulation aside as she slyly retorted, "Only if you can appreciate me holding back in situations like this."

That comment earned her another kiss, this one much more brief but still holding just as much admiration, before Q stood up fully again. “Well then,” he sighed, “are we done here?”

Ruby chuckled. “Okay, you’ve been very good today. I’ll check out this book, and we can head back home.”

Q watched his partner as she headed toward the counter, an odd - but not unfamiliar - feeling washing over him as he replayed her words in his mind. He’d been very good today. It was still strange to him that such words of affirmation had any effect on him, even if. He’d never needed anyone else’s approval, or encouragement, or affection before meeting Ruby. He still didn’t need it, he supposed; he already knew that he was the most intelligent and powerful being in the universe. But something about hearing those things from her, the confirmation that there was one person who genuinely thought good of him, cared for him, loved him…

It was quite a wonderful feeling.

#ruby's writing #💜: let me bring you down to earth #self shipping #oc x canon #self ship fic #self ship community #i hope you guys enjoy this this has been in my docs for almost 3 years 💀💀💀 #im very tired but very happy to be posting it so here you go. goo bye

[willow-lark]

one thing about me is that i will always and forever be a stoncy girly. i occasionally rb posts about them but i'm mainyl involved in the byler fandom atm so i don't talk ab them as much as i want to. anyways

stoncy is really interesting to think about particularly considering where things are in canon for the three of them right now. so, firstly, my thoughts on that:

i am 100% rooting for jancy endgame in-show. i'm not a fan of love triangles (hence why i started shipping stoncy in the first place, they all have chemistry n i think they should all kiss each other at the exact same time) but up until s4 there was no reason to think that jancy wouldn't be endgame, and honestly i'm upset that the writers brought stancy back in, considering that steve's s3 arc was all about him learning he doesn't need romantic love to fulfill his life, and what he and nancy each want in life simply are not compatible. jancy r iconic. jancy r goals. jancy had a whole speech in s4 talking about all the things they love about the other. although they've hit a slight rough patch due to jonathan's conflicting desires in supporting her goals while also being there for his family which has historically needed a lot of his support, they just need to get on the same page about this. they WILL prevail i KNOW this i TRUST

okay, lark, you say. if ur so obsessed with jancy endgame then why stoncy at all? AND I WILL TELL YOU WHY.

it all comes down to stonathan. also shoutout to @messrsbyler for championing the stonathan agenda lately. we should all attempt to live up to your example. SO TRUE.

so. post-s1 era in-show. or, honestly, u can rework this and make it fit at any point in the timeline. but anyways: nancy's with steve, they r trying and somewhat struggling to make it work (though they did last an entire YEAR so kudos for that ig). nancy VERY obviously has feelings for jonathan, who hangs out with her sometimes but is generally avoiding both of them. and honestly? steve thinks jonathan's pretty cool too. and, like, he spent a while treating jonathan like shit so he should probably try and make it up to him. right??? AND THEN THEY KISS.

no, but actually: steve's the type not to even realize that he's actually in love with jonathan. he's like, well, nancy loves him, and i love nancy, so... (that's the transitive property, right? i don't remember anything from 5th grade math class.) he doesn't even realize it's gay of him to feel that way. (NOTE: stoncy r bi4bi4bi and you WILL NOT be changing my mind.) if u extend the timeline to post-s3, robin might be able to help him w this LOL, i've read a really good fic or two where that's the case

on the other side, i feel like jonathan would have an easier time accepting his feeling, especially now that steve is making an effort to make friends with him. not to digress about the byers brothers but i'm gonna. when it comes to accepting his bisexuality jonathan doesn't have nearly as much internalized homophobia to deal with as will does regarding being gay. will has really internalized all of the things lonnie/the bullies have said about him, whereas jonathan is openly defiant of them. but in true byers fashion, he's not gonna make a move about it.

honestly i'm inclined to say that nancy, the girlboss that she is, (perhaps along with robin, again, if the timeline goes later) is the one to witness stonathan making goo-goo eyes at each other and she's like. you know what. this Might Actually solve 90% of my problems. so SHE'S the one who prompts them into it. but to be completely honest all three of them are so completely dramatic about everything so i could even see it all coming down to robin and maybe argyle to force them to get their shit together 😆

this is honestly just one way that it could go down, i've read a lot of different iterations and i love them all.

#stranger things #stoncy #jancy #stonathan #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #posts of lark #meta #is this meta? ig

[ouatsqincorrect]

Any Emma and Elsa headcanons? I personally really adore their friendship in s4, and I’m kinda bummed they didn’t ever mention it again after the Frozen gang leave Storybrooke.

(Side note- Elsa was 100% one of the OG swanqueen shippers lol. Just look at all the effort she went to, trying to patch up Regina and Emma’s friendship. And that scene where Emma and Elsa try to piss off Regina in her vault during the ‘Shattered Sight’ episode was GOLD!)

oh i agree you with you completely. the minute elsa saw emma and regina in the same room together, she was on a mission to get them together and we love her for it

so in my head, regina eventually starts to open up more communication between storybrooke and other realms, and they start figuring out easy ways for people to visit the EF or camelot or arendelle or wherever

(they also figure out ways to send mail between the different realms which turns out to be very helpful)

it starts off really slow. not many people take the opportunity to travel right away, but emma immediately wants to go visit elsa

elsa was one of the first people she truly felt like she could call a friend, you know? emma can count on about one hand the number of people she’s felt teuly understand her, and elsa is one of them

visiting elsa is not a family affair because they are trying this new thing where they don’t leave storybrooke in the hands of random townspeople, but emma, regina and belle take the trip to a arendelle

their visit comes as a surprise to elsa, but she’s thrilled because emma really was her friend, and she hasn’t really had too many of those

after they say their hello’s, it takes elsa about two seconds to realize emma and regina have finally gotten their shit together, and if they thought their family was excited, well, elsa’s a whole different story

it’s really as if elsa’s otp has gotten together and she is thrilled

(because she didn’t really get the chance to talk to regina much during her stay in storybrooke, she takes this visit as a chance to get to know her a bit more and she’s even more convinced emma and regina were made for each other by the time they head back to storybrooke)

elsa isn’t someone they talk to everyday, because…you know, they live in entirely different realms. but she is considered a family friend and when they get the chance every so often, they take the opportunity to visit and catch up (elsa also comes and visits storybrooke occasionally)

but yeah, elsa will always be this important figure in emma’s life because not only was she one of her first true friends, but she was also one of the first people to tell emma that it’s ok for her to be emma swan and even if it took emma a little time to get there, she’ll forever be grateful for elsa’s presence during that time in her life

#emma swan #elsa #emma/elsa #headcanons

[eddieexcellence]

SOUR CANDY

part iv: dungeon master

E. munson x fem!reader

Synopsis: back in Hawkins for spring break, the reader is back from college. She gets sucked into the madness again for the fourth time with her best friend and younger friends. Plus an unexpected and unwelcome face.

Type: fixit fic, angst/comfort, enemies to lovers trope

Warnings: cursing as always, reader always in a pickle, insecure/jealous reader, clumsy reader, brief mention of blood, backstory backstory backstory, mention of a razor (teenage shaving mishaps), Eddie growing up headcanons, silly litte mentions of sour patch kids, angst.

Words: 4k (wowza)

Authors note: i think it’s the moment everyone has been waiting for? Reader x Eddie in the flesh??? I had fun with this one. I just like imagining the backstory to Eddie since we didn’t get too many details in the series. This chapter follows the plot loosely of s4 ch5: the Nina project but with the twist of the reader in it. If I missed any warnings let me know!! Hope you enjoy!! :) I’d like to also talk about the gif used and how precious he is

╔═══════ ೋღ🍬ღೋ ═══════╗

You really didn’t know how you were going to get into Eddie’s trailer. You had parked by the playground, and you were just staring at the trailer with ‘53’ by the front door. There was no more crime scene and caution tape blocking it off, but Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, was home. If you broke in, he’d hear you with trailer was only so big. You also couldn’t just assume he’d let you in if you asked. He was for sure being hounded and scrutinized by reporters and police right now.

You drummed your fingers on your knees, thinking. Then you had an idea as you stared at the D&D guideline books in your passenger seat. You grabbed your bookbag from the back next to the paper grocery bag, and dumped the contents in your passenger side so you could fit everything you needed for Eddie. Not quite sure how full proof this would be, but it was worth the shot as you got out of your car. You walked up to the front door and tapped on the front door lightly taking a step back waiting for an answer composing your jitters shaking your hands slightly.

The door opened to reveal Wayne Munson, and you beamed at him as if you were putting on an act.

“Can I help you?” He asked suspiciously, confused as to why a young woman was on his doorstep. Hoping it wasn’t another reporter.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, I’m the local babysitter, Y/n Y/l/n. How’re you doing today sir?” You asked politely the smile never leaving your face.

He gave you an incredulous scowl, “have you seen the news?”

He took a good look at you, you looked familiar. Not only being able to place where he has met you and your name before, he didn’t think you looked like the typical babysitter especially for Hawkins in the casual attire you had on.

You mentally facepalmed yourself for asking a stupid question, but you didn’t let that deter you. “I’m sorry sir, how insensitive of me. It must be frustrating that your nephew’s wrongfully accused of murder.”

“You believe Eddie’s innocent?” He was in disbelief, that’s all the town was talking about, and his boys name chastised everywhere he went as of late. It was eating at Mr. Munson that nobody believed him. The police tried to be neutral, but the critical gazes told him otherwise when they interviewed him,

“One hundred percent! Eddie is an oddball, not a murderer.” You reassured him. “ Actually the reason I’m here is because a couple of his younger members of the hellfire club that I babysit let Eddie borrow a couple of things for the game. I was just wondering if I could collect them?” You gave him some puppy dog eyes.

“I also apologize for the ill timing, y’know how kids can be though.” You quickly added for extra measure.

He pointed his finger at you all of sudden, “I know who you are!”

You gulped, your smile faltered, thinking you're in trouble. “Y-you do?”

“Yes, you’re one of Eddie’s friends!” He had open the door wider. “You could’ve just said that. Come on in.” He stepped aside, and you smiled weakly stepping by him into the small trailer.

The trailer was decorated in trucker hats and mugs a yellow stain seemed to envelop everything as you glanced around. Only being in here once before. It was the first time Eddie taught you to play D&D. To your dismay there was no fairy or mermaid option for race, you went for an Elf Druid instead. Towards the middle of him teaching you, Eddie and you just ended up going through his music collection, and you watched him play his acoustic guitar he had got a few months prior. Everything looked just about fine and you almost couldn’t tell Chrissy Cunningham had been killed here almost a week ago. The only evidence was a crack in the ceiling.

“I don’t know why it took me a while to figure out, maybe you had just grown so much since a couple years ago. Eddie doesn’t tell me much about his friends anymore. Then again I’m not home much either.” Wayne looked down at his feet sounding upset. “But I do remember him being sweet on you.”

You stilled as you felt your heart pick up its pace. That swarm of butterflies seemed to flutter back into your stomach again like it did earlier. “He was?”

“Boy was he. Now, I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this. That should be his job.” He chuckled, you chuckled nervously too. “His room is down the hall on the left. Make it quick girl. I have to be at work soon.” With a blank stare and a nod to this information, you tripped over your feet, almost forgetting to walk as you went to his room feeling more uneasy.

When you walked in you closed the door so it was only open slightly ajared, preventing Wayne from seeing what you were doing. The room was almost exactly how you imagined it: piles of clothes in the corner, a couple beer and water bottles on his nightstand, band posters, posters of half naked women, and the smell of weed and his cheap cologne lingered in the air. Things you did not imagine his room to have: his bed somewhat messily made wafting a smell of fresh detergent, his desk area, music collection, and D&D shelf all meticulously organized and dusted. Seemed like he was trying to impress someone. That made you frown, maybe he was trying to impress a certain cheerleader? Chrissy Cunningham was there to buy drugs from him. You knew even Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson would like her. She was pretty, sweet and actually really funny, she never solemnly judged anybody either: only if they liked Coke or Pepsi. She was the IT girl of Hawkins High, and despite being a year older than her; it didn’t exclude you from feeling a slight green feeling in your stomach. You could’ve been over thinking, maybe he invited other clients over and tried to clean up for them too? An envious feeling washed over you, it had left a sour taste in your mouth.

You let it dull as you heard someone knock on the front door that caused you to jump out of your daze.

“Can I help you?” You heard Mr. Munson ask.

“We need to take a look around.” A woman’s voice. Footsteps creaked into the living room. A ringing, high electricity buzzing started.

You gulped, and made pace. Quietly started to search for clothes for him, and dug through his drawers throwing whatever he may have needed in your bag.

“Yeah, I think it’s some kind of leak.” Wayne said. “Hadn’t had a chance to fix it with everything going on.”

You quickly dug through the top drawer, keeping an eye on the door until fingers hit something small and hard wrapped in a bandanna at the bottom of his drawer. Did you want to know? Cautiously you pulled it out, one eye closed because you could never know. Your eyes glowed in bewilderment as you unwrapped the object. It had been something you thought you’d never see in a million years. A litle poorly lumpy gnome looking trinket. You wanted to laugh, but didn’t have time to observe the object thoroughly as the door opened. You quickly wrapped it back up and threw it in the bag, turned around to be met by Wayne.

“Girl what the hell are you doing? Are you with them?” He was furious at the coincidence of you showing up on his door steps and minutes later a government agent. He noticed your bag full of Eddie’s things poking out, his brows knitted in an angry confusion visibly softened. He grabbed your arm gently with one hand bringing you in, as his other shut the door. “Do you know where Eddie is?” His voice only above a whisper.

Frozen, unsure what to say, you started to open your mouth before quickly closing it, eyes wide, and almost scared with any answer you tried to give him.

His eyes started to get glossy, “I just want to know he’s safe.” He tried to hold it together as a few tears ran down his face.

You grabbed a hold of the hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “Trust me Mr. Munson, he’s okay. I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I’m trying to clear his name.” You whispered frantic. “My friends and I are going to clear his name.” You quickly adjusted the sentence. This was a team effort not a you effort.

He nodded, taking a deep breath as footsteps approached Eddie’s bedroom. “You need to get out of here, take this.” He took out his wallet and handed a $20 bill to you.

“I can’t take this,” you insisted, trying to give it back.

“It’s for Eddie, now go.” He closed your hand around the crumpled bill. You just nodded backing up to the window, and with shaky hands you opened it sliding the screen up. You threw your bag out first, before hoisting yourself up and through the window. You weren’t ever the most poised and graced girl so you managed dropping face first to the ground. Your body ached and burned knowing there was going to be cuts and bruises later.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you quickly got up dusting off the scrapes and cuts, grabbing the bookbag. You crawled around staying close to the siding of the trailer, sneaking around so you could run to the car discreetly. Noticing an unmarked vehicle was parked in front of the trailer as you made sure the coast was clear. In your last couple years at Hawkins you had gotten very familiar with a car like that knowing it could mean one thing, the government, even more specifically the Department of Energy. That would explain the whirring and buzzing.

You dashed over to the playground where you had parked. Unlocking the door and hurriedly putting the keys in the ignition, engine coming to life. You grabbed the walkie talkie from the survival box from the backseat. Peeling out of the trailer park you clicked the walkie on.

“Munson, do you copy?” You asked out of breath.

“Did you get the stuff?” He quickly responded.

You mentally checked off the list in your head: food, beer, shirt, pants, socks—

“Shit! I forgot the hairbrush!” You still had your walkie clicked on causing Eddie to hear that.

“Y/l/n, you're truly implorable to think Hawkins Most Wanted needs a brush in a moment like this.” You could hear him laugh at you.

“Oh shove off, Eddie!” You told him. “I’ll be there in less than 15.”

“Copy, Princess.” You didn’t need to see his face to know he had a smirk on his face.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the road as you clicked the walkie on one last time, “stop calling me that!”

You parked down the road from Reefer Rick’s place in a tucked away turn around spot by Lover’s Lake. Overstuffing your bookbag with the food and beers for Eddie, putting the rest of your belongings in your trunk and locked the car up. It wasn’t too far away, but far enough to make you haul ass. Cutting through the brush that was behind Reefer Ricks house then to the abandoned boat house avoiding any possible attention. Pushing your stamina as much as you could. You got to the door and quietly knocked before opening the door and closing it behind you as you slipped in.

Eddie sat on an empty trash can throwing pebbles into an empty paint can, looking bored. He looked up at you and he looked dumbfounded.

“Holy shit Y/l/n!” You were still mildly out of breath from the most physical activity you’ve had in quite a few months, holding your hands on your knees throwing the book bag to him. You didn’t even bother looking at him yet, just taking deep breaths.

“I’m never,” a deep breath, “doing anything,” another deep breath, “that involves running,” one last deep breath, “again!” You collapsed to your already bruised and scraped knees tired.

“You’ve seen better days haven’t you?” You could hear the man across from already munching on the honeycombs you got him.

You had your eyes closed still regaining yourself, “always for the flattery aren’t we Munson?” He cracked open a can of beer as you scoffed at the sound.

“Oh do you want me to tell you that you look fresher than a daisy while you have blood running down your forehead?” He retorted. “Christ Sake Y/n how’d you even get that? Got into a fight with the gas station clerk for the six pack?”

You flipped him off, putting your fingers to your forehead and felt a small wet cut on your temple. It wasn’t too bad, but still enough to stain your fingers red you noted when you opened your eyes. You set you eight on the tall unruly man, glaring at him. You eyes making contact with him for the first time since you came into the boathouse. You had only saw him in passing while dropping off Max at her trailer when you were home for winter break a few months ago.

He looked more mature, hair longer, but still wearing his typical outfit: his hellfire t-shirt, tight jeans, leather jacket with the hellfire vest on top, scuffed up Nikes, and an ungodly amount of accessories. His guitar pick necklace hangs on his chest, his wallet chain popping out his pocket, a chain bracelet on his left wrist where he only had on ring on that hand, while his right hand was clad in an obnoxious amount of silver rings in various shapes on his long slender fingers, and his timex watch on the right wrist. His big brown doe eyes glimmered mischievously into yours.

You had to fight the blush from forming hoping that if one did appear you could chalk it out to all the vigorous running. Call Eddie a freak, an idiot, or a loser, but he wasn’t unattractive.

You cleared your throat, averting your eyes to the six pack beside him. “If you’d like to know, I had to practically throw myself out of your bedroom window to flee. Now hand one over.” You made a grabby hand for a can of beer.

“Ooh, the goody two shoes breaking and entering and drinking a beer with a runaway madman?” He rolled a can over to you anyway. “That’s scandalous.”

You opened the beer, taking a thirsty gulp trying to soothe your dry throat. You didn’t care that he chastised you for having a beer, you were parched. “I didn’t break and enter, more like break and exit.” You had corrected after finishing the gulp.

“My uncle let you in?” Eddie sounded surprised.

“H-he recognized me and I made a bullshit excuse I needed to grab something for Dustin,” you stated avoiding the detail of the DOC at his front door. “He wanted to know if you were safe, Eddie.” Not knowing how he’d take the news, you anxiously took another sip of beer.

Eddie was silent, glancing down staring in front of his feet. It was silent for a minute as you two just stayed still. He sniffed, wiping his nose, was he about to cry? You braced yourself just in case he was about to. Comforting the kids came east even Nancy or Steve. But Eddie? Not so much. You didn’t really know if you could say or do anything to help.

“D-does he think I did it?” He asked, his voice shaky.

You shook your head. “No, of course not.” He visibly relaxed at the statement. You bit your lip, seeing how distraught he was. You could go on all day making snide remarks and insults at him, but you felt bad. Genuinely. “Munson, you may be many things, but you aren’t a bad person .” The tone of your voice is sincere and thoughtful as you look down coyly. This was the best effort of you comforting him.

Eddie thought you short circuited being nice all of a sudden. He studied you carefully, scrapes and bruises littered your skin, your mascara from the day before smudged, did he dare want to admit to himself that you still looked pretty? The oversized Slayer shirt hanging off your shoulders, ripped mom jeans, and combat boots that you could squash anyone in. You did not look like the girl you once were in high school not even a year ago. That girl still hid her band tees tucked into skirts under dainty sweaters and paired with Keds or Converse with frilly socks that followed Steve around like a lost puppy. You had grown within the several months since he last saw you, but reminded him more of the personality of the young girl he first met. The you he had envisioned you becoming in high school had him in awe. That didn’t happen though, instead you were corrupted by the popular kids and jocks.

“You’re not going soft on me, are you Y/l/n?” Eddie questioned mockingly as he continued to rummage through the book bag of stuff you got him.

“What, I can't feel an ounce of sympathy?” You bit back.

“I don’t need your pity!” He snapped getting mad. “If this is all you’re trying to prove, you can leave. You did your supply drop, good work soldier. Now leave.” He didn’t need your martyrdom.

You rolled your eyes, “always ruining a moment and any decent conversation Munson.” Maybe you did extend your stay in the boathouse, you were only so he could have some food and clean clothes.

Eddie still pulled things out of the bag, “if I remember correctly that’s always been you.” He pulled a crushed box of sour patch kids from it, his black and white bandana messily folded over an item flying out as he did so. Oh no.

“You’re not going soft on me, are you Munson?” You mimicked him from moments ago as your eyes fell on the bandana too.

“I-I forgot I still had that.” He tried to say. You raised an eyebrow, not believing him.

“In your underwear drawer, that I would hope you go into everyday?” That caused the man across from you to blush lightly as he unraveled the bandana from around the trinket.

“I’m surprised you didn’t smash it.” You said.

“It’s not his fault the person that made it became a brainwashed idiot.” He rolled it around his fingers.

It was chipped, seen better days, but he still knew what it was supposed to be. It was a poorly constructed dungeon master you made for art class in the 8th grade. You were great at art, pottery not so much. You made it as a token of your friendship in your free time. You were so excited when you gave it to him.

It was towards the end of the school year, so you didn’t have much to do in classes as everyone wrapped up missing and late assignments. Steve asked you to hangout that weekend, but the new Judas Priest album was coming out. You wanted to snag a vinyl or cassette for it, so you asked Eddie to come along to the music shop.

As you two waited in the small line, he chatted excitedly about what he heard about the album so far. You listened as you rummaged through your purple canvas bookbag looking for the little clay piece you made in art class for him. It was comical seeing a young girl in the crowd of mainly men clad in their metal t-shirts and flannels in the rising mid day spring heat of Hawkins. You had a pale pink sleeveless romper on with a chunky belt, a geometric printed matching baby blue and lavender windbreaker wrapped around your waist, your signature lacy white socks pulled as high as they could go to hide the razor nicks on your ankles from shaving, and scuffed white keds on. Let’s not forget the clumped on mascara coating your eyelashes, overly glittery lip gloss, and the big band on your chin. When Eddie asked about it, you said you were clumsy and cut your chin, secretly it hid the mountain of a pimple that appeared overnight.

Whereas Eddie had his Hellfire Club shirt on, some cargo shorts, his wallet chain hanging, his newfound guitar pick necklace, some mismatched socks, and black vans with scribbles on the soles. He had tried to grow out a mustache and beard, but it was mainly a sparse area of dark straggly peach fuzz above his upper lip, and ingrown hairs dotted his cheeks. You two were a sight for sore eyes as you were just awkward pubescent teenagers. Not aware of the events that would forebode within the month to come.

“Aha!” You pulled the trinket out, a bright proud smile adorned your features.

“Y/n what is that?” The teenage boy asked you. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was, it looked like a mini garden gnome at first glance.

“It’s for you!” You handed it to him. “It’s supposed to be a dungeon master, see it even has a diabolical sorcerer hat on!” As you explained more he got what you were going for. The hat with lumpy flower pieces had gold stars painted over them. It was a disproportionately large almost just as big as the dungeon master itself. Though poorly made, the details of the paint job were really good; primarily red, black, and gold accents. You had made the trinket look like it was holding a red bat shaped electric guitar, like the one he got at the beginning of the school year that his uncle helped get him for making it to sophomore year. The face is just a peach colored blob with a scowl on the face. Eddie wouldn’t be happy if he had to lug around a hat on his head three times his size too.

“I was going for if Gandalf was in a metal band.” You continued. You were so nervous, knowing it wasn’t your best work, but you still thought it was cute. “D’you like it?” You batted your lashes.

Eddie smiled, it was the worst thing he ever saw. It was the best thing he had ever received though, because you made it just for him. “It’s actually great,” he chuckled. He held his hand out for a high five. “Thanks Y/n/n!” You high fives excitedly back.

He brought it to every Hellfire Club meeting until the day you stopped being friends. It was retired on his D&D shelf until one particularly bad day between you two where you were at each other’s throats in Spanish class. It got to the point where you had to be sent to the library to do your work for the rest of the period, and he got detention. Eddie went home that afternoon ready to smash it, but the more he stared at it the more he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It had been through many great campaigns with him just sitting by his folder scowling at the other members in the club so he just carefully wrapped it in one of his many bandanas and tucked it away. He always unraveled it when his uncle would force him to clean up his room and fold his laundry getting distracted by going through his things instead.

You finally stood up, dusting your pants off grabbing your keys from your pocket turning around to leave. “Well this brainwashed idiot did her job so I’ll just go.” After the much gentle reality check Steve gave you the night before, now Eddie basically paraphrased what he had said the night prior, you couldn’t help it to be bitter as a pang filled your chest. Were you really brainwashed and desperate to fit in?

“Thanks for the trip down memory lane, sweetheart.” The malice that laced sweetheart when Eddie said it was enough to turn the hurt and confusion into anger.

You whipped around to say something, the sound of a tired screeched to stop made you both freeze. “Get down!” Eddie instructed, and he sneaked a glance through the window. You crouched down not knowing what was happening listening to him anyway.

“Shit. Shit!” He exclaimed quietly as he ducked back down, grabbing the walkie talkie beside him.

“What’s going on?” Your eyes widened as he clicked the walkie on.

“Hey Dustin. It’s Eddie, you remember me right?” He spoke through the machine. “Well the babysitters here too. If anyone’s there, we may be in a bit of trouble here.” He started to freak out. “Okay? Wheeler? Harrington?!” He smacked the walkie in frustration, “anyone?!”

You crawled over to the window he was near to see what he was so freaked out over. You bumped his shoulder as you went to peer up through the window, but he quickly grabbed you, pulling you back down before you could see.

“I believe my angry mob has arrived.” He whispered darkly.

taglist: @sunfairyy @eddiemunson4ever @babygirlwilly @creme-delacreme @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @flicksturz @thicc101q

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson fic #sour candy series #sour candy fic

[werewolfwriter323]

So I finally have finished my drawings for Martin K(nife) Blackwood. I have been working on these on and off for the past few weeks usually after I get outta work. I decided to start with a fullbody Martin,  cause he's my fave <3. I am planning on drawing fullbody pictures of the S1 Archival Assistants next, and of Jon, because I want references to look at when drawing comics and shit. 

I also have so many AMV/PMVs planned for TMA, I've got a whole ass google doc, lolz. 

I just know that they'll be easier to do once I've got references for most of the characters.  

So yeah! I hope you guys enjoy! 

Feel free to comment. 

*Written notes about design

S1 Martin

-Hair is short & somewhat curly/poofy. Is a dark copper tone

-Has a silver earring on each ear(cartagilage piercings)

-Collared shirt that I actually own

-Big soft arms, soft everything,  big boy man. 

-Skin is medium brown

-My Beloved 

-Don't @ Me

S2 Martin 

-Hair gets longer & poofier

-Adds another piercing

-Jumper + overalls

-Glasses are slightly cracked 

S3 Martin 

-Hair continues to get longer

-Adds nose piercing

-Eyes start to blacken from reading statements?

-Has tea cup & cow lobe earrings

-Has pocket knife

S4

-Body is waterlogged & frostbitten in certain areas

-Hair is pale copper, with white tips

-No piercings 

-Hair is longer, damp, and limpish

-Bangs in eyes to hide face somewhat 

-Blacksuit to be professional 

-Looses a lot of weight 

-Skin is pale, almost white. Ashy?

S5

-Hair has patches of white 

-Hair got it's poof back

-Hair is back to normal copper color

-Wears hair in ponytail 

-Cut bangs shorter

-Is still thinner than S1, but has gained a little weight since the end of S4. 

-Got a lip piercing, put all other piercings back in

-Wears whatever he wants

-Has patches of white and some black on skin

-Skin is mostly back to it's normal brown

-Link to dress: https://rebelrestyle.com/collections/new-arrivals/products/versace-v2-strappy-90s-dress

*When I was looking for an outfit for S5 Martin's outfit I specifically looked for a few retail stores in Edinburgh, and picked out actual clothes from there. Don't get me wrong, I love all the art of them wearing comfy clothes during the apocalypse, but for my Martin I wanted him to rock a dress.

To add to this I like to headcannon that Martin wears jumpers, dresses,skirts, and overalls through out the seasons. I am a firm believer in Martin wearing whatever the fuck he wants.

#the magnus archives #tma fanart #tma #martin blackwood #character design

[imsoquarky]

Making design notes is one of my favorite things ever. I don't know why but making a list of them brings me so much joy.

I made one for MK awhile back and I'm getting the itch to do some for my own original characters. Sure my ocs do have set designs, but writing them down feels good.

Anyways. If you've never written a list of design notes, highly recommend. They don't have to be in-depth but here's some I wrote for a post-s4 MK design I haven't made yet

(Below the cut just to make sure I don't flood y'all's page or whatever)

Bodily Changes:

- Spread vitiligo to reflect new monkey markings (Dot on each upper cheek, patch covering the bottom lip to chin)

- Mullet hair

- Sideburns now reach lower and there is now sparse facial hair on his chin alongside the facial hair that was already on the edges of his jaw

-Fur covering his arms and back

- Striped gradient monkey tail

- Forehead scar running from hairline to a little below his eyebrows

- Fangsssss (Not as prominent as SWK or Macaque, more like Pigsy or Sandy's)

Wardrobe Changes:

- Sleeveless blue hoodie with one big white stripe and one small one

- Yellow Monkey King themed leather jacket (usually sensory hell, but he's got furry arms now)

- Still has the baggy, red cargo pants, but add on the overall straps that aren't being used like they should. Just decoration

- Cargo pants also have a tail hole now

- Headband is stitched up down the center, got damaged in the fight with Azure.

- Now wears sandals and goes barefoot during training

Other changes:

- His ears can twitch now, tho they still appear human. Hearing is also more sensitive, but not anything like Wukong and obviously nowhere near Macaque's

- Nose is also more sensitive, again, not quite like Wukong or Mac

- Is actually a bit faster than Wukong now, though SWK still far surpasses him in sheer strength and stamina

- Deals with migraines and meltdowns more often due to the higher senses and after effects of fucking HEADBUTTING A SWORD

- Still has human feet, but they're slightly bigger and he's more in control of their movement and can pretty reliably pick stuff up. This makes close-toed shoes very uncomfortable now

A few extra MK hcs that aren't listed here and didn't really change:

Transgender FtM (He/Him)

AuDHD

Pansexual

(All subject to changes or additions as I see fit)

Tbh, if enough people find this interesting I'll do them for all the characters. Even ones I may never draw, like Sandy (I LOVE him, but he's such an intimidating character to draw, muscles are strange and I still struggle with drawing my Red Son design.)

I'll also do non LMK characters, from basically any of my fandoms. These are so fun to me. It's my happiest form of feeding my hyperfixations when Im dealing with art block or just a lack of time.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lego monkie kid mk #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk qi xiaotian #clem's rambles

[blonde-and-cat-suc]

26. song for a gardener

rating: t

wc: 2.5k

cw/tw: sister!c//a (no incest), mentions of child abuse 

desc: In the Bright Moon garden, Shadow Weaver and Adora have a talk about their relationship from the beginning. 

(Canon Divergence, S4) 

///

An eerie silence hangs over Shadow Weaver’s roses, her petunias, flowers she had only recognized from her former life. Naturally, she didn’t chose to fill this silence if she had the choice, but today she has company, and she isn’t used to the child she raised just... watching her from the other side. Cool. Calculating. Some what curious.

It takes Shadow Weaver a moment longer to realize that Adora is spying on her. Or, she’s trying to. Unfortunately, she’s nothing like her sister, who would know better than to pass by a bush and make the leaves rustle.

Catra was good at a few things. Even if those things never counted for much.

Shadow Weaver pushes the thought away. No need to remind herself that her other daughter was still in the Fright Zone somewhere, picking up where she left off. That was her own fault for not keeping Catra in line so long ago. Her own fault for not keeping Adora in line so long ago.

Honestly, if she wasn’t so used to the hardened, porcelain shape of the mask already, she would’ve just lifted it, yawned and sighed and breathed a little more comfortably. But she is used to it. And she doesn’t want to feel anymore comfortable with herself than she can possibly be right now. Softness was a plague, infective, inviting things she’d fought all of her life to stay away from... The mask would stay on.

The hyacinths on the other side of the garden need watering, too, so she grabs her bucket, promptly ignores that Adora is crouching in a tall, over grown holly bush, and makes her way to the dirt-patch. She doesn’t usually make noise on purpose--it’s annoying, actually, and half of the appeal of gardening is that she doesn’t have to talk the plants down, encourage them to get up and prove themselves with words; all she must do is care for them, and they grow--but today Shadow Weaver hums a tune.

She forgot what this song was called somewhere during her time in the Fright Zone--probably somewhere around the time she had to keep one eye on young Adora and the other on an even younger Catra. That was a couple of hard years, she remembered vividly, and never had time to hum, or read, or write. Just yelling, mostly. Occasionally, she would cast a spell too. But mostly yelling.

The holly bush trembles as Adora stretches out her limbs, sitting, Shadow Weaver thinks. How ridiculous this is. Adora’s not even really trying to be stealthy, but wonders why Catra keeps getting the upper hand on her? Water drains over the hyacinth bed, not too much and not too little. Adora needs to be better than that; slacking off in normal situations was begging for slip ups in battle.

Shadow Weaver thought she raised Adora better than that...

Besides tensing at the noise of the holly bush and the water splashing up to her fingers, Shadow Weaver keeps humming. It’s probably not the right melody, and maybe her notes are off, but she’s more focused on the vibrations echoing off the mask, meeting her skin in a way talking doesn’t achieve. Why did she ever stop humming? It’s fun. A little annoying that she can’t remember the rest of the tune, but it’s fun thus far.

There’s not much else left to do since Shadow Weaver considers this garden's upkeep absolutely essential, and tends to it every single day. She can, of course, revive whatever dead plants happen to show up. That doesn’t mean she wants to. It was just more satisfying to care for the plants like they’d earned that kind of care. Gardening requires something of a tenderness. Something close to it. She has never be able to feel anything close to that, until after the fact, and the prize meant to be won was already won.

Adora peeks her head out of the bush. She must not be aware that despite the mask, Shadow Weaver has excellent peripheral--and, shouldn’t that silly child she raised already know that much? She is being daft on purpose?

���It would behoove you to stop being so obvious.” Shadow Weaver doesn’t look in Adora’s direction, guessing that her face did that thing it does when she’s been compromised. Adora's face didn’t change all that much into adulthood, and it’s easy to remember how pink-shame would dust her nose bridge, reddening against her cheeks like two sunburnt apples. “You are embarrassing me, Adora. Really.”

“There’s no one else here for you to feel embarrassed!” Instead of sinking deeper into the clumps of leaves, Adora tumbles out of the bush, lurking behind to gather herself up from the ground. She isn’t offended, but rather, confused. “You knew that I was here? Weren’t... you using less magic lately?”

“It doesn’t take a magician to know when one is being watched.” She leaves out the part where they made eye contact multiple times through the mask, and how clumsy it was to hide in a holly bush of all things. “What are you doing?”

“Watching.” Adora is candid. “Just watching.”

“Hm.”

She goes back to snipping edges of her double-rose stems. They don’t need anymore cutting, but Adora flanks her side, blue eyes fixed on the thorns curling from the flowers. Does she have an interest in the garden as well, or is she scheming for something? Adora’s dazed look was never like Catra's, whose mismatched gaze was always sharp. Always on alert.

Finally, Adora takes in a gulp of air and rubs at her arm, gathering courage. “Well, I wanted... I wanted to ask you somethings, too.”

“Is that so?” Shadow Weaver is unbothered by this request, knowing that “somethings” were always silly musings when they came from Adora. Silly and unimportant.

“Uh-huh. Yeah.”

They stand in silence, only the opening and closing of scissors cutting more than what should be cut on the rose bush interrupting. Beneath her mask, Shadow Weaver lifts her brow. “I’m waiting for the questions, Adora.”

“Oh! Right, yeah!” She shakes her head. “Uhm, well... I don’t know. I was just thinking about... Me? You? And... M-My family.”

A bit of a sore topic there. But Shadow Weaver’s long stare at Adora doesn’t make her back off. “Didn’t you find out anything when you ran off to the Crimson Waste?”

“No”, she huffs. “Just... that Hordak didn’t take me. Not really, it was an accident, wasn’t it?”

She doesn’t seem like she’s accusing anyone of anything. Shadow Weaver finds that intriguing. “Yes. Taking a First One’s baby is not a feat commonly done.”

Adora’s staring down at her boots. “So... did you really know that I was meant to be She-Ra?”

That question is easy enough to answer: she didn’t. Not really, as Adora emphasizes. She could only tell that Adora wasn’t a typical Etherian-human, and that much was interesting about her. She’s ready to give this answer to Adora, but the questions keep coming.

“Did you ever want to... raise me? Be a mom to me? And Catra?”

Shadow Weaver blinks. “Why does anyone have children, Adora?”

“Huh? I don’t know... I don’t have any kids.”

Fair enough. Shadow Weaver looks away, contemplating, trying to come up with a better way to deter these probing musings that she didn’t think Adora was capable of.

Did she ever want to be a mother...?

Sure. In a loose sense.

It was easy to care for Adora. Brush her hair, change her clothes, shush her to sleep, humming lullabies that she heard years and years ago, as Light Spinner. They even got around to singing the songs together, though, the infant Adora was a lot more content with ruining the melody than Shadow Weaver ever was.

“Do you remember that song we used to sing before I left you to sleep in the barracks?”

Adora’s face draws blank. “No.”

Ah, but then why would she? Shadow Weaver doesn’t pretend to snip anymore of the rose bush, casting her gaze away from Adora and onto the Bright Moon Castle. This place feels... nurturing. Better than anything Shadow Weaver could have ever provided. Because she can’t provide it. She never knew how.

“Did you remember the song?” Adora presses, brushing against the roses, dangling by the stems, too far cut to stay upright.

“Only some of it.” Not that it matters, really.

“That was what you were humming...” It’s not a question directed to Shadow Weaver. Adora rubs her chin, thinking this over. “I... I kind of recognize it. It’s old, isn’t it?”

“Older than you can fathom.” Shadow Weaver’s lifespan is far more than Etherian-human’s would ever be. She can’t tell if Adora already understands that much, but it doesn’t seem important right now anyway. “I used to sing to you so you’d stop crying. You used to cry a lot.”

“I don’t anymore”, she says as if Shadow Weaver wouldn’t believe her.

“Probably not.”

“So, you already knew how to care take of babies? How else did you keep me alive?”

What was with all of these questions? Shadow Weaver lets out a puff of air, heat swelling on the hard surface of the mask, escaping through the cracks. “It’s common knowledge, Adora. Even you must realize that much.” Adora’s mouth parts like she wants to add in, but Shadow Weaver cuts her off: “As for Catra-- you were asking about her too, yes?”

“Yes”, Adora breaths.

“Catra was hell to look after”, she admits, sounding more tired than she ought to be. That was years ago. Catra was an adult now, ruling over an army that Shadow Weaver just couldn’t crush properly under her foot. “I’ve never been more inclined to hate children up until Catra.”

“Then why adopt her? Why bring her in?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“If it was, I wouldn’t be asking.”

A remark like that would get Adora cuffed in the jaw. If this was still the Fright Zone. If Shadow Weaver wasn’t taking up gardening now. “You seemed to like her.”

Adora’s eyes grow wide, two full moons. “What? Is that it?”

She probably wants to hear about the day Shadow Weaver was assigned to cleaning up the potential magicat cadet, rid her of whatever fleas, ticks, and other parasites were latched onto her body. It was a simple task, and back then, she didn’t mind caring for cadets that were Adora’s age. They all needed a little toughening up anyway.

Catra too, was one that needed to learn that the Fright Zone was her home now, and she couldn’t be a Horde cadet if she cried so easily getting into water. Shadow Weaver’s fingers ached holding onto the toddler’s wrists, forcing her into the bath. It wasn’t her first experience with an animal-hybrid cadet, but it was the first time she found one that wasn’t frightened by her mask, or the face underneath.

“You’re ugly!” The toddler hissed, foam collecting on the edges of her mouth where she had already been spitting curses that children her age shouldn’t have known. She kicked around in the bath water, yowling and screeching as Shadow Weaver plucked off a tight, fat tick from her skin. “Leave me alone!”

“If you want to die from infections”--Shadow Weaver yanked the toddler up to eye level, the hatred burning in the little one's eyes deeper and more ferocious than ones of many adults--“you’ll do so on your own time! Now hold still or I’ll throw you back from where you came from!”

“Where did she come from?”

Shadow Weaver had flinched, not realizing that Adora had followed her into the washrooms. This girl often did cling to her, lost and confused as she usually was. Shadow Weaver shoved the magicat toddler back into the water, ignoring her flailing and spitting. “In a box. Left here for our resources.”

Adora scurried closer, leaning on Shadow Weaver’s hip. She didn’t care that Shadow Weaver’s mask was off, or notice the ruined, horrid skin of her face. “Does that mean she doesn’t have a mama?”

“Yes, that’s what that means”, she replied, satisfied that a toddler this infuriating would have no parents to complain to after this bath.

The magicat toddler took to glaring at both of them, nose just above the surface of the water. There were fleas bunching up in her hair-- terminal hair, that only grew from her scalp, eyebrows, eyelashes... Information that Shadow Weaver had to know for other mammalian hybrids. The magicat toddler hadn't reached up to scratch at any of the bugs crawling on her head, and on closer inspection--with Adora being an excellent distraction--Shadow Weaver found long, red marks all over her bare scalp. The poor brat had probably scratched too much before she'd been put in a box. No one had been caring for her before the box. Poor brat, indeed. Such an uncomfortable existence in this world, so far.

It wasn't really Shadow Weaver's job to make the cadets comfortable, but... This child would most likely have some form of infection if this wasn't cared for. It would weaken her before she'd ever have to the chance to prove herself.

Should Shadow Weaver shave her head? She ran her sore fingers through the toddler's soft, grey locks. No, maybe they could brush everything out with some more flea-shampoo. Maybe conditioner.

That day had been such a normal one, and yet... It marked the beginning of the end. Shadow Weaver would name the magicat toddler "Catra", something straight to the point.

Catra and Adora... Both being raised by Shadow Weaver in a few months after their first meeting. Pains in her side. Motivation to work harder. Pride, because these two learned so much quicker than the others did, because Shadow Weaver was molding them herself. Just like she used to, in Mystacor. When she was Light Spinner.

"You couldn't have just adopted Catra just because of me", Adora, adult and rough around the edges, demands for a better answer than the one she was given. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Don't tell me what I could and couldn't have done." Shadow Weaver grouses. "You're out of line."

It's times like these that Shadow Weaver has to ask herself the same question... Why did she even bother? Why didn't she just stay Horde commanding officer, occasionally being relegated to organize the cadets? Not having this hollowness in her chest where having two young girls looking up to her used to fill? She turns away fully now, heading back for the castle, wanting to be alone with the thoughts she didn't know she had. "I'm done with this, Adora. You'll have to take my word for it, or don't have anything at all."

Footsteps follow her out of the courtyard, heavier than they used to be, but just as feverish to keep up. "Hey, wait!"

Shadow Weaver is silent, but slows.

"Did you..." Adora's voice falls. "Did you ever love us? At all...?"

Shadow Weaver should have seen that question coming... But she didn't, and now she's frowning, "Why are you asking such a thing?"

"I have to know. Please. Please tell me the truth."

The heat of Shadow Weaver's mask on her disfigured, ruined skin is suddenly unbearable. She hooks her thumb underneath the clasp, careful about catching Adora's sparkling blue gaze. As an adult, Adora's demeanor shakes... but she's right back to being rigid after the visceral reaction.

Then, Adora takes a step forward, brave as always. "Tell me the truth."

And Shadow Weaver does.

///

#mariposa fics #open ambiguous ending #basically i wanted to handle this between them while keeping in mind that Shadow is a human being and is nuanced just like everyone else #sister!c//a #tw: child abuse #anti c//a fics #anti c//a

[beautifulterriblequeen]

So I've been doing some quiet edits on my big ol' semi abandoned Modern AU Ruthari longfic Seeing The Light, and they're all posted now, complete with patch notes.

If you got an update that a new chapter was posted, that was just part of the maintenance! I shifted part of the absolutely massive chapter 11 to a new chapter 12.

Some neat new details have made their way into the last couple of chapters, including some cool post-s4 characters that were fun to include.

I'm sorry I don't have an actual new chapter at this time. But if you were looking for a reason to reread StL, now's good!

Special thanks to @mynewgroove who literally called me from the freaking airport to ask about the ao3 update. I love you so much, bro.

#my writing #ruthari fanfic #just a quick update #StL

[dinitride-art]

Lighting and Stranger Things Season Four - Full Analysis (Pt.37)

Now where where we? Ah, yes. In the pit of despair. So, after the monologue, Vecna gets his shit rocked by everyone. My favourite thing in season four (besides the lighting and Will) is in this part of episode nine. And I have wanted to talk about it for like. Three months. 

S4:E9 - FIRE!!!! (#1)

So, Murrays got a flame thrower. In the latter half of the Vecna battle, it’s all fire. The fire has a few distinct characteristics that are emphasized when we see it. First, it’s intentional and directed. Like Murray with his flame thrower, he aims it and intentionally fires at a target. Second, the people fighting with fire are our characters that we’re rooting for. That’s their weapon of choice, not Vecna’s. And thirdly, and most importantly, the fire we are shown has two distinct colours. And yes, while this is just science because blue fire is hotter than yellow and orange- our attention is drawn to this aspect of fire in these shots. These two colours.

Blue and yellow.

Nancy, Steve and Robin are freed from the vines. A few notes about their costuming; Robin has a red hat and a vest, Nancy has a gun and pink nail polish, and Steve has visible patches and his watch is in shot. Will Byers in season one episode one, was wearing a red vest and notably had a shotgun. Eddie, when he dies, tries to get away on a bike. The bikes this season have had different tones of light, Eddie and Robin’s being the brightest when compared to Steve and Nancy. In the second half of the Vecna fight Robin, Nancy and Eddie have objects around them and on them, that point to Will in season one, episode one. 

“God, we need Will,” is a line that persists all throughout season four. Max draws the Creel house, they communicate with the lights in the Upside Down, Max confronts Vecna, they track Vecna with the lights. They’re doing exactly what Will has already done. They’re piggybacking off of Will’s experiences. 

Hopper picks up this sword after Murray sets everyone on fire. The way that this is shot, makes me think that this sword is more than just a symbol of protection and bravery. And all that sword stuff. We’re meant to look at it and make connections. Important objects have emphasis- like Will’s painting, and the fire, and the stained glass window behind El. We are meant to look at them. 

Within Stranger Things, there is one specific sword that comes to my mind. The sword outside of Castle Byers. Another connection to Will. 

The lights here are yellow and blue. Like the fire was. Yellow and Blue are Mike and Will’s colours, and Mike and Will were absent from the main supernatural arc this season. Even in a different country- Joyce, Hopper and Murray managed to get themselves involved in the Upside Down. El was learning about her past, everyone in Hawkins was dealing with Vecna- but Mike, Will, Jonathan and Argyle were visiting Suzie. And having heart to hearts. And finding El. They had nearly no connection to anything happening in Hawkins. But everything in this last half of the battle seems to be saying they should’ve been there. 

Steve throws the first molotov cocktail. But Robin is more interesting. She’s got her vest and red hat which I mentioned before, but now we can see that even the cloth in her molotov cocktail is red. Red like Coca Cola, and blood, and the accents on Will’s cloths in season one and three. Like the heart on Will’s painting. 

We get a close up slow-mo shot of this thing flying through the air. We’ve got red and blue accents, which if we’re in line with the Snow Ball- mean forced conformity. The fire, like Murray’s flame thrower, is blue and yellow. There’s a lot going on here. Especially the fact that the name of the alcohol is ‘Balfour’. 

The setting that they’re in is blue- this contrasts the fire really well. I also just wanted to mention the stuff they put into each frame? Like there’s different colours and overlays and circles of light, and it’s a whole lot of editing. I think it’s really cool. There’s just so much that’s been put into this scene.

Hopper cuts off the demogorgon's right arm. The left arm is the Vecna related one. So this could be furthering the idea that they’re losing this fight because they went about it the wrong way. Another thing is that Hopper (and Joyce’s) Jacket is red and blue. And the setting is somewhat red and blue tinted. That also points to themes of forced conformity, as was established by the Snow Ball in both season two, and in this season when we went back there with Max. 

They set Vecna on fire. And we’ve got more red and blue.

I’m counting twenty vines connected to Vecna, which is a bad number for him to be associated with. Twenty is A. the highest roll on a twenty sided die, and B. a critical hit. If you roll a twenty on an attack role then you double the numbers you roll on the damage dice (usually- some classes have other things when you roll a twenty). And if you roll a twenty elsewhere, like say a death save (when you are at zero hit points and dying. You have three death saves. You fail three, you die, you succeed on three, you live.) you stabilize and gain a hit point. So if Vecna’s rolling 20′s- it’s bad. Erica rolled a 20 and beat Vecna in Hellfire. Maybe Vecna’s doing the same shit- but reversed.

The Creel house dissapates when Vecna is set on fire. The outside intervention is what made him leave. El fighting him didn’t seem to have an effect on that. 

There’s something weird going on with all this. Because El looks confused as it all fades to black. When El finds people, she’s usually isolated to that person- not their surroundings. When she found Billy in season three, he was already taken by the Mind Flayer. Henry’s powers appear to be focused more on this plane than the outside world. Where as El is some what the opposite of that.

Vecna doesn’t throw Robin, Steve and Nancy across the room. Or break their arms. Most of what El does is absent in Vecna’s fighting, when he’s not in some ones head. 

Sure, he’s on fire and standing- something that may indicate fire is not exactly his weakness. At least in this state- or the fire is being thrown by the wrong people. But they’re not dead, and if El were in a position like this, the people in front of would not be like that for very long.

Robin picks up the red molotov cocktail. Her (pink/red) nail polish covers the ‘four’ and we’re left with ‘Bal’.

She’s literally throwing a fucking fireball at him.

And we’re meant to notice it.

Like, we’re REALLY meant to notice it. This one shot goes on for a hot second.

We’re also meant to notice that Robin is the one throwing it. Steve’s throw wasn’t anything this. It’s the angles and timing and we’re just meant to see Robin in a way we weren't meant to see Steve. She’s got the vest, the rolled up sleeves, the red, she’s gay- all of these things are saying Will in season one- because that’s what they’re all trying to do. 

But they’re not Will. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 25.1 25.2 25.3 26 27 28 29 29.1 30 30.1 31 31.1 32 32.1 33 34 35 36 37 (To be edited)

#the lights #will byers #I HAVE WANTED TO TALK ABOUT BALFOUR FOR SO LONG #SHES LITERALLY CASTING FIRE BALL #BUT ITS NOT WORKING #AND ITS CONNECTED TO THE SNOW BALL AND THE FOUR VICTIMS #AND EVERYTHING POINTS TO WILL #NOT BEING THERE #AND MIKE ISNT THERE EITHER #AND THEYRE IMPORTANT (but mostly will) #AND THATS WHY THEY LOST