#The Not Ready for Prime Time Players

[retropopcult]

“This picture kind of gives me cheeseburger/Pepsi vibes from 1978. Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi. (No Coke)“  (via reddit)

[piercedprisoner]

You guys ever wanted to be a turkey? 🦃

[nintendowiig]

Happy belated 47th anniversary to the timeless Saturday Night Live

[rosalie-starfall]

Gilda Radner & Jane Curtin

Saturday Night Live - January 29 1977

"Well ah, first of all, once a month..." "Oh yes, oh yes."

[danaykroydilysm]

dan & friends on snl

[heritageposts]

Ask an older generation of white South Africans when they first felt the bite of anti-apartheid sanctions, and some point to the moment in 1968 when their prime minister, BJ Vorster, banned a tour by the England cricket team because it included a mixed-race player, Basil D’Oliveira. After that, South Africa was excluded from international cricket until Nelson Mandela walked free from prison 22 years later. The D’Oliveira affair, as it became known, proved a watershed in drumming up popular support for the sporting boycott that eventually saw the country excluded from most international competition including rugby, the great passion of the white Afrikaners who were the base of the ruling Nationalist party and who bitterly resented being cast out. For others, the moment of reckoning came years later, in 1985 when foreign banks called in South Africa’s loans. It was a clear sign that the country’s economy was going to pay an ever higher price for apartheid. Neither of those events was decisive in bringing down South Africa’s regime. Far more credit lies with the black schoolchildren who took to the streets of Soweto in 1976 and kicked off years of unrest and civil disobedience that made the country increasingly ungovernable until changing global politics, and the collapse of communism, played its part. But the rise of the popular anti-apartheid boycott over nearly 30 years made its mark on South Africans who were increasingly confronted by a repudiation of their system. Ordinary Europeans pressured supermarkets to stop selling South African products. British students forced Barclays Bank to pull out of the apartheid state. The refusal of a Dublin shop worker to ring up a Cape grapefruit led to a strike and then a total ban on South African imports by the Irish government. By the mid-1980s, one in four Britons said they were boycotting South African goods – a testament to the reach of the anti-apartheid campaign. . . . The musicians union blocked South African artists from playing on the BBC, and the cultural boycott saw most performers refusing to play in the apartheid state, although some, including Elton John and Queen, infamously put on concerts at Sun City in the Bophuthatswana homeland. The US didn’t have the same sporting or cultural ties, and imported far fewer South African products, but the mobilisation against apartheid in universities, churches and through local coalitions in the 1980s was instrumental in forcing the hand of American politicians and big business in favour of financial sanctions and divestment. By the time President FW de Klerk was ready to release Mandela and negotiate an end to apartheid, a big selling point for part of the white population was an end to boycotts and isolation. Twenty-seven years after the end of white rule, some see the boycott campaign against South Africa as a guide to mobilising popular support against what is increasingly condemned as Israel’s own brand of apartheid.

. . . continues at the guardian (21 May, 2021)

[thatdammchickennugget]

Just My Type

pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader

tags - hockey player and figure skater au

warnings - none I think

wordcount - 1.1k

a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested

The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.

Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.

Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.

After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.

Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.

“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.

Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?

You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.

Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.

You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.

“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”

Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.

“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.

“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.

Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.

“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”

“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”

The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.

He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.

Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.

By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.

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[taasgirl]

Can you write something about reader being trent alexander-arnold’s girlfriend and her also being a player for englands womens team? Xx

player / trent alexander arnold

omg i'm so sorry this took so long, i was on a school grind

summary: trent and y/n are in a relationship, with the two of them being professional ballers.

liked by trentarnold66, arsenal, lottewubbenmoy, and 26, 883 others ynusername North London Forever ❤️🤍

katiemccabe Fav gooner x

bukayosaka Looking fresh y/n

trentarnold66 cutie

user53023 I LOVE THEM

liked by user78492, user99384, user66381, and 452 others user54384 i think we as a society moved on too quickly from this interview

user88402 now if y/n and trent weren't a couple...

trentarnold66 Watch what you say missy

user60827 HAHAHAHAH HE'S GOLD

trentarnold66 i think they're sitting too close

liked by lionesses, jackgrealish, masonmount, and 752, 832 others england Who's ready for our upcoming games? Your Three Lions take on Australia tomorrow night!

ynusername omg trent sort out the hair mate

tyronemings Hate to agree with her but @ trentarnold66 you're in need of a fix up

user65183 Is bukayo keeping it 🍋 ?

liked by alessiarusso, ellatoone, jackgrelish, and 10, 348 others ynprivate this could be me but @ trentarnold66 is really shit at football

trentarnold66 and who lost a world cup final?

trentarnold66 also pls dont distract me before a match xx

ynprivate don't act like you get game time...

user68304 I'M DYING WHY ARE THEY SUCH A SILLY COUPLE

maryearps I guess we'll just have to win one so he can be a wag

liked by johnstones, bukayosaka, ynusername, and 222, 730 others trentarnold66 A big game and a big win. Onto the next ���

jackgrealish Fav scouser

ynusername stop looking so hot when you play.

user69203 prime trent incoming

liked by liawaelti, lucybronze, jackgrealish, and 326, 837 others ynusername trent is my valentine ❤️

trentarnold66 awwww kys.

trentarnold66 Keep your top on

ynusername not what you said last night mate

bukayosaka oh my days trent...

liked by user67394, user99302, user52734, and 213 others username44291 y/n at the euros is gonna do it for me every. single. time.

trentarnold66 She's so beautiful

user52931 careful trent, i might take your girl omg

liked by bukayosaka, katiemccabe, liawaelti, and 632, 837 others arsenal Staples to our club, Gooners through and through.

trentarnold66 y/n to liverpool @ fabrizioromano?

fabrizioromano Not happening Trent.

bukayosaka ❤️🤍

liked by trentarnold66, jackgrealish, maryearps1, and 11, 218 others ynprivate OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD. i'm so in love with this man it's insane

user35701 those arms - what if i squirt

trentarnold66 oh! thats not...

jackgrealish trent the cutie awwww

view trentarnold66's story...

liked by caitlinfoord, lewismiller, dominikszoboslai, and 32, 874 others ynprivate every hot couple has a cheap copy

romeobeckham this is gold

trentarnold66 I am in no way affiliated with this statement

ynprivate you told me to post it

trentarnold66 That's a shocking photo of us two

liked by samkerr1, declanrice, lucybronze, and 211, 703 others arsenal Rate this duo 1-10

user51938 1000000

declanrice Solid 4/10

ynusername can u stfu

trentarnold66 hahahhaha pls delete this.

liked by ynusername, jordannobbs, maryfowler, and 376, 975 others trentarnold66 Happy Birthday to the most unbelievably beautiful woman I've ever met. You're my world, my absolute everything; and I know I'd be nowhere if I didn't have you nagging me for the past decade. You're so so strong, and so incredible. I truly have no idea of what I've done to deserve you.

To more memories, trophies, and hopefully some much smaller football boots.

I love you Y/N.

bukayosaka Happy Birthday Y/N!

ynusername this may just be the most beautiful thing i've ever read

lucybronze no sorry trent. no babies for a while please

keirawalsh I second this

ynusername no babies for a loooooong time

hehe thank you for reading, send me more submissions of what/who you wanna see, i'm open to everyone (even women ballers!!).

[retropopcult]

Saturday Night Live’s Jane Curtin, Al Franken, Tom Davis, and Gilda Radner. Photographed 1977 by Owen Franken.

[piercedprisoner]

Some sketches of Dan from SNL season 2 (night of the moonies) :)

[lets-try-some-writing]

Okay this is going to be super off topic but I had a random thought for the Mr. Pax au

So you know how June had a crush on Optimus? Imagine if June meets Mr. Pax and has a crush on him. Jack would be mortified and it would definitely make parent/teacher conferences a little bit awkward

Boy oh boy I bet it is awkward.

Previous post here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elita may have been new to Earth, but even she could see the way the human woman stared longingly at her Conjunx. Of course, the one called June was completely unaware of the fact that Mr. Pax the history teacher was in fact Optimus Prime, but for Elita, that made the whole affair more humorous. Optimus had politely refused to acknowledge the occasional comments about Jack's teacher and Elita knew it was not her place to interfere unless things became serious.

She and Optimus spoke about the issue and opted to let it be until it became necessary to dash June's affection. But of course, that time came sooner than expected when the time came for parent teacher conferences not too long after her arrival on Earth.

"Jack is aware of your identity. What do you plan to do?" Elita stood at her Conjunx's side as he worked at the console. He turned away from his work and met her gaze. He smiled faintly and his optics cycled wide like they used to before he became Prime.

"A gentle message will suffice." Optimus's field wrapped around her comfortingly, with the barest hint of mirth. Elita recognized the concoction of emotion and laughed outright as he all but read Optimus's mind.

Orion Pax had not been a comedic character, but he was particularly good at the higher caste surprises that always left a mech gaping. Political intrigue was not something he generally enjoyed, but he was a fantastic player and knew how to put on a show.

"Do you intend to reveal yourself as well?" Grasping Optimus's servo, Elita watched a coy grin play on his features. How long had it been since she'd seen her beloved have any sort of fun?

"Perhaps. It would certainly save us all a few uncomfortable situations." Optimus grinned like he was a young mech again. Elita couldn't help but laugh once more and lean against him. This was going to be amusing.

━━━━━━

Elita waited patiently outside of Optimus's office and listened as he discussed Jack's performance in class. She watched the events playing out on a handheld device the humans called a 'phone' with a slight grin. June Darby was professional throughout most of it, but as the meeting progressed and Jack seemed to shrink in on himself with every passing moment, June finally made her move as she packed up.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Pax. If you don't mind me asking, could I possibly have your number?" Elita had to bite back a laugh as she watched her Conjunx pause in putting Jack's files away. The poor boy in question seemed ready to explode as he caught sight of the glint in Optimus's eyes.

"I am afraid I can't do that." Optimus placed his papers down and Elita took the opportunity to step into the office, the 'phone' put away and out of the view.

"All done love?" Elita was quick to wrap her arms around her Conjunx's shoulders as he sat at his desk, smug as ever. Not that anyone except Elita would notice the possessive nature that remained hidden behind his Primely visage.

June looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Elita couldn't say she blamed the woman. June was familiar with Elita's holoform. In fact, it had been June who helped her design it. The fact that Elita was here and being so openly affectionate with 'Mr. Pax' had to be startling through implication alone.

"As you can see, I am quite taken with my darling wife as you humans say." Jack seemed to have given up on life as June processed the information. There was a brief moment where June seemed to have broken something in her processor before it finally clicked and she gripped the desk in shock.

"OPTIMUS?!?"

Yeah, waiting around had been worth it.

[tailschannel]

Super Silver, Knuckles the Dread, Thorn Rose to debut in new Sonic Forces Mobile events

SEGA HARDlight, the developers of Sonic Forces: Speed Battle, shadowdropped new characters ahead of three scheduled in-game events throughout June and July 2023.

Speed Battle players will have an opportunity to collect cards of Knuckles the Dread and Thorn Rose from Sonic Prime, as well Special cards of Silver the Hedgehog's super form.

Knuckles the Dread

Knuckles the Dread, the Angel's Voyage captain, joins the battle! Unlock him in his brand-new event ‘Knuckles the Dread’!

Here are the in-game statistics for the pirate captain, Knuckles the Dread, scheduled to appear between 15 to 22 June 2023.

Fireball: Put the heat on the opponent in front of you with this ball of flame.

Invincibility: Run faster, safe in the knowledge that nothing can harm you. Just don't fall off the track!

Broadside: Summon a line of cannons and fire away to destroy your rivals!

Knuckles the Dread will be equipped with a speed and strength stat of 8/10, and an acceleration stat of 5/10.

Super Silver

Super Silver is charged up! With the ultimate power and unlimited energy, he is ready for battle! Join the event to gain Special cards for Super Silver!

Next, the in-game stats for Silver the Hedgehog's super form, scheduled to appear between 22 to 29 June 2023.

Whirlwind: Puts the wind up your opponents and steals Rings as it spins.

Super Form: After collecting enough Gold Rings, transform into Super Form and blast down the track at incredible speeds!

Tornado: Send your opponents into a spin and pocket any Rings they drop.

Super Silver will be equipped with a speed, acceleration, and strength stat of 6/10.

Thorn Rose

Thorn Rose, the defender of the jungle joins the battle! Unlock her in the brand-new event ‘Thorn Rose’!

Last but not least, here's the in-game stats for Thorn Rose, scheduled to appear between 13 to 20 July 2023.

Hammer Slam: Catch-up to your rivals with a short-sharp boost, then slam your hammer to blast them with a powerful pink wave of slow-you-down!

Jungle Run: A rapid boost which leaves behind brambles to trip up your rivals. Charge this up to drop even more!

Lilytrap: Opponents will have to time their approach just right or they'll be blasted into the sky by a jet of water!

Thorn Rose will be equipped with a speed stat of 7/10, an acceleration stat of 6/10, and a strength stat of 9/10.

(with files contributed by the Tails' Channel Newsfeed.)

[rosalie-starfall]

Jane Curtin

Saturday Night Live July 31st 1976

[armoricaroyalty]

Rosalind of Armorica: The princess will see you now

Crown Princess Rosalind wants to become the most accessible member of the Armorican royal family. Is she ready for the pressure?

It’s hard to escape Crown Princess Rosalind. The 27-year-old heir to the Armorican throne is seemingly everywhere: cutting ribbons at hospital wards in Nordienne, meeting with conservationists and gamekeepers in the highlands north of Bortaine, smiling on the cover of glossy supermarket tabloids.

The omnipresence is part of a deliberate strategy, according to the Crown Princess. “We can’t hold ourselves apart from the people we serve,” says Rosalind. “We need to be hypervisible. We have to be real to our people, not just faces on stamps.”

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note: I never do recreations, but I did recreate this 2021 Tatler cover because it was just really striking. Thank you to @warwickroyals for sharing the Tatler graphic with me!

article continues below the cut!

Of course, hypervisibility is nothing new to the mega-popular heir to the Armorican throne. Already a superstar within her home country, Rosalind rose to international prominence after accompanying her father on a state visit to Uspana in November 2017. At just 27 years old, she is already considered one of the most accomplished living royals. In 2012, she graduated from the elite Allard University with dual degrees in economics and music performance. Two years later, she launched herself into full-time royal work, quickly racking up 34 patronages, ranging from the national ballet to the Ministry for Sustainable Energy. Last year, she completed over 400 engagements on behalf of her father. In terms of extracurricular activities, Rosalind is an accomplished tennis player, speaks six languages fluently, composed the score for ANN’s upcoming documentary on sustainable energy Green Horizons, and owns an international real estate portfolio valued in the hundreds of millions.

Sitting across from me at a private supper club in the tony Pearl District, she brings a relentless, focused energy to our conversation. Everything about her conveys poise and intensity, from her impeccable posture to her ad-exec smile to her sensible suede pumps. Her favorite rose-shaped brooch (purchased by her great-grandfather in 1962 and worn by both her grandmother and great-grandmother) adorns the lapel of her cropped jacket, which the diminutive Crown Princess has paired with wide-legged trousers. Her smile doesn’t waver as the conversation turns to her relationship with her father.

"We have very different styles. [My father has] never given an interview, and well, look at me now!”

“His Majesty is very supportive,” Rosalind says. “We work together very well, and in the last few years, he’s really come to rely on me.” It’s a bold claim for a member of the normally self-effacing and media-shy Armorican royal family, but it’s backed up by the numbers: including his weekly visits with the prime minister, the reclusive King of the Armoricans carried out just 131 engagements last year, approximately one third the number completed by the overachieving Crown Princess. “We have very different styles,” she laughs. “He’s never given an interview, and well, look at me now!”

"I suppose [my parents] meant well, but [my upbringing has] been quite a disadvantage."

Crown Princess Rosalind is the oldest child and only daughter of Andre, King of the Armoricans and former hockey pro Elise Sutton. According to Rosalind, the King and Queen—then the Duke and Duchess of Arbor—tried to give their children an “informal upbringing,” away from the pressures of royal life. “I suppose they meant well, but it’s really been quite a disadvantage,” she confesses. “When I meet my peers internationally, it’s very clear that they were more directly brought up to rule. I used to feel so behind. I’ve had to work hard to catch up.”

“Was it difficult, growing up as a member of the Royal Family?” I ask.

“No,” says Rosalind, hesitating. “But I think that it was difficult to be royal in my family.”

“I think that it was difficult to be royal in my family.”

[coffeeineedcoffee]

Moving But Not Moving On

(Alexia x Reader)

“Stop it” you huffed out in annoyance to Sofie. The young midfielder didn't let up that easy and continued to prod about why you were dreading playing your former team so much. While yes she understood that it is always hard playing your old team you had kept a tight lip on any personal matters or reasons for leaving such a big club in the prime of your career. It didn't matter though as you were now back in Barcelona for the first time since signing with Rosengard 6 months ago.

The rest of your teammates were busy staring in awe at the historic stadium and the seemingly mile high stretch of stands. For a moment, so did you. And in that moment it was as if you never left, like it was before your life fell apart. You could still hear the roar of the crowd as they screamed your name, you could feel your foot striking the ball perfectly and the electricity that coursed through you. The voice of your coach broke you out of your daze as you jogged over to the rest of your teammates. 

You enjoyed playing in your home country of Sweden and while Rosengaurd was a great club it wasnt home anymore. You knew you would soon be playing the reason why you were wearing jackets in November instead of shorts and that when you did, you would need to be ready. 

The next day during training your mind raced but you managed through the training sessions and various meetings and before you knew it you were once again in the locker rooms. During warmups you forced yourself to concentrate but you can't help but pick her out in the crowd. You watch, hopefully inconspicuously as she talks to her team. The familiar passion in her eyes that often accompanies football sends butterflies in the pit up your stomach. You would probably have stayed there entranced by her if not for the ball hitting your shoulder and a smirk from Sofia. 

You're soon staring at a blue and white kit. It was the same name and number you always had yet it didn't feel like yours, nevertheless you quickly toss it on before walking towards the tunnel. Before even entering the tunnel you knew where she would be standing. It was the same spot she would always lead her team from.

You could see from your spot in line by her posture that she meant business, her shoulders square as she looked forward, her gaze fixated. But you also noticed how she played with the fabric of the pennant behind her back and realized that she must be nervous under all that bravado. You had become an expert at reading her mannerisms over the years so it was no surprise that you still could.

You continued to avoid eye contact as you walked out into the noise of the stadium. The game is hard fought especially when your opponent knows you so well not to mention the crunching tackles sent your way. 90 hard fought minutes later, you look at the grass in disappointment as goals from Claudia and La Reina herself would leave you going home with a 3-0 loss.

You now stood around midfield chatting with Frido, one of the few people who knew the full story. It wasn't long before you felt someone jump onto your back with a laugh and aren't surprised to see Aitanas playful smile when you look.

What does surprise you is when Barcelona's famed captain apprehensively approaches. A soft smile set on her face as she made her way through the mass of players. “Good game” she says in lieu of a greeting. You nod awkwardly as Aitana hops off your back to give you some space. “So how's Sweden been?” she asks. You bit your lip for a moment in shock at the casual conversation. “It's been good” you try to respond convincingly. She nodded but showed no intention of moving. “Y/n we've missed you, i've issued you” she said softly as if she wasn't the reason you left. “Alexia don't” you say. Her full name felt foreign on your lips as you tear your gaze away. “I'll see you in Sweden” you said quickly before heading back towards the rest of your teammates, missing the way she longingly watches your frame recede into the tunnel.

You had signed with the Catalan club 3 years ago and you spent most of that time loving the midfielder. She was the first person you met and offered to show you around the city. She asked you out a couple months and many awkward moments later. You had agreed to keep it a secret in the beginning but as the media continued to follow Alexia it became clear it would continue that way. She would act like a stranger to you in public or with the team.

You always thought it would change but you couldn't take it anymore, how could she talk about forever with you if you couldn't even hold her hand. Eventually you had come to the realization that you were just her dirty little secret, the arguments became too much and you asked your agent for a couple things. A team somewhere cold along with a quieter atmosphere. And even though you got what you asked for, it didn't fix you, not when nothing could.

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 17: Repair

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 16

March 1986

The news has been replaying the same story all day. It should be shocking, sort of is, but Julie’s kind of numb to it at this point. Each year, like clockwork, something big happens. Something this small town hasn’t faced in decades. A kid missing, turned up dead, just to be found alive again. A government laboratory had a gas leak that caused the death of many more people. The mall catches on fire causing a mass casualty. Now this.

She was awoken by sirens this morning. Ruined what was supposed to be a day where she slept till noon. It was spring break; she was allowed to be lazy. But instead, the spring break was wrapped up by police tape. The cause of a whole new type of stress.

Beloved student of Hawkins High School, Crissy Cunningham, found dead in the Munson’s trailer. Eddie Munson, the prime suspect, still at large. The body, found by Wayne Munson, a hard-working man of the community, is disfigured beyond belief. The police don’t have enough evidence to make a statement. But are advising the public to be aware and alert the police of any suspicious behavior.

Julie doesn’t know Eddie that well. They’ve only been neighbors, acquaintances. Sure, he drove her to school a few times. Made sure that she got there safely and was an ear when she needed to rant. But that didn’t make them friends. That didn’t make them close.

It didn’t take an idiot to see that Eddie wasn’t as big as scary as he was chalked up to see. Unfortunately, this town was full of idiots. Ready to point their fingers to the person the papers blame. Since they were already so influenced that metal music was from the devil and all dungeons and dragon’s players were Satan worshippers. It only took one headline for them to believe that. What’s stopping them from believing it now?

The evidence is damning. Wayne worked last night so it can’t be him. Multiple witnesses saw Chrissy leave with Eddie after the game last night. He is a known drug dealer, which most people would say is a step away from murder. His van was heard by the entire trailer park at both their entrance and his exit.

But there was one thing that Julie’s not sure anyone really heard. His screams.

Trailer parks are a hive for nosy neighbors fueled by the powers of thin walls. Lots of open air for noise to travel. It was nice outside last night, so Julie sat out on their little porch with a book. Peacefully reading.

Until Eddie pulled up with music blaring out the windows. Slamming on the breaks before he crashes straight into his own trailer. Right before the queen herself gets out of the car and walks right through his front door.

Julie says she’s better than gossip, but this she just had to know. Had to witness. Two people who never interact, going into an empty trailer. A recipe for disaster.

And disaster it was. Not long after, Julie can hear some yelling from the trailer. Something about waking up. Chrissy not being able to hear Eddie. It just increasing in volume until it devolves into a terrified scream. Then Eddie runs out of his trailer, gets into his van, and speeds away.

Julie doesn’t know a lot about how murderers act, but she can guess they don’t normally scream while killing their victims. That’s a pretty obvious sign that something’s wrong. But the police just brush her off when she tells them. The arrest has already written itself.

. . .

Present Day, April 1987

It’s been almost two full weeks since Steve and Julie moved into the new house, and Steve still feels off about it all. About taking the next step in the case. Passing the point of no return.

Steve doesn’t know what to do. It’s like he’s being backing into a corner. On the one hand, he could drop this and make himself a fool to his parents, to his friends, probably a good bit of the town. Or he can go through with it just to drag up his baggage all over again. Feel like shit all over again.

He doesn’t know what to do.

Then there’s all the other stuff. The looming piles of bills in his future, the fact that they still don’t have a couch. That Steve still doesn’t have a proper mattress. And the fridge is getting kind of empty, so he needs to go shopping soon.

These are new worries for him. Making a strict budget and making sure it’s enforced. Saying no to the kids when they want something, forcing Robin and Eddie to pay their share of the meals when they go out. Even though it was really always him ensuring he was alright paying the bill. Making small stacks of coupons and waiting deals to show up in the paper. It’s a lot.

Steve’s never been poor before. Not to say that he is now. Well, he kind of is. He has a good bit of debt because of this loan and lost a large chunk, most, of his savings to buying this house and the initial furniture. Paychecks are split between bills, food, Julie, savings, and then him. He’s the last on his list of priorities.

It’s all bringing up more issues, as if it already wasn’t enough. He’s always been the friend that picks up everyone’s tab. Pays for the check, the parties, the supplies, the fancy gifts. It’s all been from his money. His dad’s money. Which he doesn’t have anymore.

He knows it’s stupid to think that the friends he has now would care about that. Just because his old friends definitely would have. But these guys, they care more about the money. About the name. What Steve can give them.

Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel like it.

Steve’s always been a giver. It felt wrong to keep what he had just to himself. He never took, just gave. What would he be when there was nothing left to give?

Julie shuts the door just a hair away from a slam when she gets home. Giving her bedroom door a harsher treatment. It squeaks all the way shut. He’s been meaning to fix that, hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

She’s been like this ever since they moved. Her demeanor shifting almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to the stress, having a new place that didn’t feel right. The change uncomfortably itching beneath the skin.

But after a week went by and it was the same thing every day, he knew something was up.

He walks over to her door, knocking lightly.

“What,” Julie yells through the door.

Steve’s taken aback. “How was school?” he asks calmly. 

She whips the door open. “Fine,” she huffs. “That all?”

“You ok?” he asks as if the question didn’t answer itself already.

“Yeah,” Julie rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Steve crosses his arms. “You sure? Cause to me it seems like you’re upset about something. You know you can talk to me about this stuff.”

“Whatever.” Julie slams the door in his face.

It takes all Steve has to not rip the door open and give a whole lecture on how rude that was. To restrain himself from stepping into old shoes. To react differently than his father would have. Come back when the moment dies down and the anger stops bubbling. To be better. To be him.

Whatever he is at the moment.   

. . .

Julie tears another piece of paper out of her notebook. Crumpling it in her hands and throwing it across the room, watching it miss the trashcan. Landing next to the other balls of paper. Each one being more wrong than the last.

She should be doing homework. There’s an essay due for her English class in a few days and she hasn’t gotten around to writing it. Too busy with the move, then the adjusting. Now this. The same thoughts over and over again in her mind. All of them screaming that this can’t be happening right now.

Every time Julie thinks she can have any sort of break, another thing comes along just to punch her down again. Her mom died, then she moved, then she moved again, then she started getting better but that’s this whole other thing, then she gets kicked out, moves again. Now she has a crush on one of her best friends. What a great fucking life this is.

Julie tugs at the roots of her hair, pushing her fingers under the tightness of her braid. Hoping if she squeezes long enough, the unwanted thoughts will just leave. She’ll be able to think of a theme in the Catcher in the Rye that speaks to her enough to get five pages out of. Be able to write enough in her stupid notebook that makes sense. Get her grades back to where they were before and her life back together again.

Falling apart is a tune run dry and Julie’s tired of playing it. All she wants to do is go back to being normal. Like she was a year ago. Happy, kinda pissed at the world in different ways, but happy. Where there was something that didn’t quite make sense with the way she felt about girls, but it was easy to brush it all off. And her mom came home smelling like syrup and bacon grease instead of alcohol. Her knew sobriety chip kept proudly in the pocket of her apron. Constantly reminding her what the tips really needed to be spent on.

Life was good. It was normal. It was everything. Julie misses everything.

She misses the way the house always smelled a little stale and like mildew. The flowery candle her mom burned doing nothing to cover it up. She misses the way she would trip on the pile of shoes by the door. And how the singular hook on the wall would always drop her coat so much she started to throw it over a chair. How the kitchen would always be a little bit messy, and there would be dishes in the sink and pots on the stove. The couch that had it’s built in divot made by someone else with cushions that were squished beyond compare. Doors that fell off hinges every year or so and the sounds of the radio flowing through the walls.

All of it aches in her heart the more she moves on. The more she grows away from the place she called home. Having to keep retracing it all in her mind so she won’t forget it. Hold her mom’s sweatshirt close to her nose and pray to smell her cheap perfume again. But all that’s there is Julie. All there is left is Julie.

Julie is the only thing left of her mom other than the picture sitting on her desk. Which sucks for so many reasons she can’t find the words to explain. Mainly because looking in the mirror gets harder. Each time looking a little less like herself than the day before. Not quite knowing who she is anymore.

Reflections almost heighten to the imperfections on Julie’s face. The darkness underneath her eyes, the red dots forming on her chin and forehead. The fakeness of her smile, the way it can’t seem to reach her eyes quite right. Growing into a face that lost its childhood. Fighting to keep all she can of what’s left.

Growing up was always going to be hard. Slowly seeing herself morph away from childhood dreams and expectations. Having them crushed by the cruel realities of the world. Having memories trapped in confines of the mind that can’t seem to be open again. Becoming someone is hard in a normal life, let alone one with as many hurdles as Julie’s.

Julie can’t even begin to fathom what she would say to herself half a year ago, five years ago. How could she crush that little girl’s dreams right before her eyes. Witnessing the pain from the outside rather than the in. Tell her that there would be no princess wedding, or even one at all. That her mom wouldn’t even be there if she could. Gone far too soon. She left Julie far too soon.

Childhood isn’t missed until it’s stripped away. Until it can never return. For what its worst, Julie’s mom made sure she had it for as long as possible. Before the inevitable kicked in and took it away for her.

Now Julie’s filled with hate again. At herself. At Steve for trying. At him for not being who she wants on the other side of the door. A constant reminder that this good thing could only come once her mom was gone. Finally, a house, but without the mother to make it a home.

It’s not fair to blame him, she knows that. Can hear the upcoming words of her therapist as she relays this all to him in the next session. How she’s placing Steve in a box that he was never meant to fill. Just because the emptiness was too crushing to face in whole.

Giving up on the homework, Julie lies on her bed. The new mattress smell still seeping through the covers. She takes her Walkman and presses play on whatever’s in there. Noise blasting through her ears, loud enough to hopefully cover these thoughts. She grabs a pillow, wanting to squeeze something close to her chest. All of her childhood stuffed animals gone with the first move. Another piece of her that is forever lost.

The tears start to form, and Julie lets them fall.

. . .

The next day doesn’t seem to be any better. She insists on biking to school today. Doesn’t really make it a choice as she hoes straight from her room to the door. Without saying as much as a goodbye.

Steve doesn’t push. Thinks it would be best after the outburst yesterday.

The last time Julie acted like this was her mom’s birthday. Where she was hurting so bad that she decided to hit at the closest target. If that’s what she needs to do again, he’d be happy to take it all. Hold some of the hurt so she didn’t have too anymore. Distract him from his own hurt at the moment.

It’s so bad that she forgets her lunch on the counter. Even though it would probably have ended in the garbage. Like how last night’s dinner landed right into a container to be revisited later. Still sitting in the fridge when Steve went to make breakfast this morning.

He’s not quite sure the last time she’s eaten more than half her plate. Too busy with his own stuff to notice her dip back in her progress. Kicking himself that he didn’t see it all sooner. That it took for her slamming a door in his face to understand how bad it had really gotten. Not like he could have stopped it. But it might have helped.

“That conversation you had with Julie while me and Eddie were out getting the pizza,” Steve says while explaining the situation to Robin. “Was that about her mom? About the move?”

Robin takes a second to think. Physically stopping and starting her movements a few times before speaking. “No, it was about something else.”

Something else. Steve didn’t know about a something else. “Was it because of me?”

“No, no. It was just something really private that she wanted to talk to me about. I would tell you but it’s really not my place to.”

Steve ignores the alarm bell ringing in his head. She’ll tell him about it, whatever it is, when she’s ready. “But you would if you thought it had anything to do with the way she’s acting.”

Robin shrugs. “It depends. If I thought, it would help. But honestly,” she takes a deep breath. “I think telling you about it might make it a million times worse.”

“Make what a million times worse?” Eddie asks after walking in. Sliding into his designated spot at Steve’s side and placing a kiss to the side of his head.

Robin rolls her eyes. “You guys can’t be this happy while Nancy’s away at school.”

“Oh boohoo.” Eddie sticks out his tongue.

“I thought you had work today?” Steve asks Eddie.

He shrugs. “I’m sick.”

“You’re going to be jobless if you keep calling out for no damn reason,” Robin chastises.

“Well clearly, I was needed elsewhere because there is a situation that needs dealing with. Make what worse? By a million times?”

Robin rolls her eyes again, gesturing Steve to fill Eddie in on the situation.

“Julie’s hitting a low point again, she slammed a door in my face yesterday.”

“Do you think it’s about her mom?” Eddie gets a soda out of the fridge and sits on the countertop.

It could be. One of the first things Julie said when she saw the house was how it reminded her or her mom. How a place like this was all her mom ever wanted for the two of them. That had to drag up some feelings. Especially since they were now living here.

Steve shrugs. “It could be. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

But there was something else. Either the thing she talked about with Robin or him pushing yesterday. Something going on in school. Anything.

There were so many places to mess up. For Steve to fuck up something that didn’t just involve him. He’s bad at dealing with things. Pretending his problems don’t exist so he doesn’t have to think about them. Or lashing out just to feel more powerful than them.

Steve just didn’t want Julie to feel like she had to keep it in. That she had to keep the war in her mind because no one cared enough to listen. Or that she would burden him just for talking to him about it. He wanted her to be better than himself. Maybe that was too high of an expectation to have.

“Just talk to her about it,” Robin says softly. “She’s always come around to telling you how she feels. She just needed to blow off a little steam, that’s all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Maybe was a lot of things right now. None of them made Steve feel any better.

“Hey,” Eddie kicks Steve gently. “What’s really going on? Other than the Julie thing?”

“It’d be easier to say what isn’t going on than what is?” Steve pulls out one of the metal folding chairs from their makeshift kitchen/dining table and sits down. It squeaks under his weight, proving his point for him. “Maybe I bit off more than I can chew.”

Robin pulls out the chair next to him. “You did what you had to. It just happened to be very overwhelming.”

“I’m not talking about that. Well, I am but not really. It’s just,” Steve takes a deep breath. “This case. If I’m still going through with it. It’s just adding more to the pile and I’m now realizing I didn’t really think it through as much as I should’ve.”

“What do you mean,” Eddie interrupts. “You seemed liked you thought it over a lot, actually. Had evidence all laid out, contacted people, got witness statements. People to testify. Had multiple people who know their shit tell you that this was a good case. You checked off all the boxes.”

“Yeah, sure. But I don’t think I’d realized at the time that I might be going to court twice in a short amount of time.”

Steve asked Sarah a few weeks ago what it would take to make him the permanent guardian for Julie. Maybe even adopting her. If that’s what she wanted, he hasn’t brought that specifically up yet. Sarah mentioned something about permanent guardianship, since Julie’s only a year away from becoming an adult.

But no matter what, it probably leads to presenting his case before a judge. Having them make the final decision. With all the things that have happened in the past few weeks, and Sarah pulling some strings she shouldn’t have, the risk of relocation raised a bit. Making this permanent would get rid of the risk. Neither of them would have to worry about this anymore.

“Wait, twice,” Robin questions.

“Yeah, once for this case against my parents, twice to get permanent custody of Julie.”

“Is that something you guys have talked about?”

Steve shrugs. “A bit. She definitely wants to stay with me long term, and I said I’d start asking about the options. I just haven’t talked to her about which one she would prefer, since she’s got less than a year before she turns eighteen. Most of them involve at least going in front of a judge to prove that I have the means to care for her until she’s an adult.”

“And if this case falls through, it might look bad on you,” Eddie connects the dots.

“Exactly. And I’ll have to pay all the legal fees out of my own pocket where I would have gotten that back from the money I won.”

Then there was the reason for doing this all in the first place, getting them to understand what they did to him. How he was affected because of their neglect. Would they even listen? Would this change anything? Would this all just become another story to tell their friends?

They would go around telling their friends how much of a disappointment he is. How he is ungrateful of everything they’ve done for him. How he wouldn’t even be here without them. As if that makes up for the fact that they were never around.

Creating someone doesn’t immediately garner respect. It still has to be earned. Each time he was left, his respect, his love for his parents shrunk. Now all that is left is a sliver so small, yet it still feels like a mountain. Still crushing him.

He doesn’t want to be crushed by it anymore.

Steve gets up, goes to his room and pulls out all of the evidence he’s built. The entire case against his parents laid in a binder. Copies of bank and credit card statements. Highlighted lines of hotel stays and flights books. Lined up with dates that Steve could recall they missed. Birthdays and holidays lost. Memories begged to be made. Years gone.

Statements of the many nannies that he had. Each confirming their own payments, the lengths of their stays. Empty cards filled with not even the signature of their names. Cursive congratulations and happy birthdays printed instead. Hospital records that show his own signature on the discharge form. Mrs. Henderson’s name on the contact form since his parents couldn’t care to show up.

It was enough, it had to be.

He brings it out to the kitchen, laying it all out on the table. Asking Robin and Eddie to go through it. Tell him if they think it would be enough.

Witnesses, one of them asks. Steve could think of a few. One of the nannies had offered when he asked. She would still do it. Hopper said he would not only be a character witness, but also get the records for that one house party he broke up where Steve was caught underage drinking. How he had to drive him home, his parents nowhere to be seen. Nancy probably would too. She could tell the courts how she knew his parents were never home, even if he was seventeen.

It is enough.

Eddie grabs Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Robin grabs his other hand. “If this would be too much, no one would blame you for walking away.”

Here in this small kitchen with old cabinets with squeaky hinges and tile that he absolutely hates. In a house that he bought on his own, for the family that he made, it’s finally starting to feel like a home.

The walls were never what made it empty. The unopened rooms and unused furniture. It was the energy that never flowed through the doors that made it devoid of all life. Sucking what it could from the person in it to make up for the loss. Now, as people come and go, as Steve and Julie live here, the house feels full.

With these people by his side that showed up by surprise. Chose him for whatever reason that he might never understand. But circumstances led them to each other, and they don’t leave. Even when he tried. Gave them the opportunity to. Yet, they stayed. Every. Single. Time. They helped him learn what home should feel like.

Steve is enough. He always was.

“I want to do this,” Steve says without a doubt in his voice. “Even if they still won’t believe it, or be pissed at me for the rest of their life. I want to show up to the court with rows of people behind me, while their side is empty. Show them the real thing they lost was me.”

. . .

When Julie gets home, she goes right to her room. Ignoring the happy mood Steve is in. Ignores the fact that she saw Eddie’s van drive down the street as she was biking home from school. Ignores the slight rumbles in her stomach and the ache in her legs. Lets her body fall limp onto her bed after her bag slips off her shoulder. Filled with work that won’t get done. Marked with a big red “F” when she turns them in blank.

Just adding on to how Julie is already feeling.

What would her mom say to her? Her daughter’s grade dipping. Another new home. Not eating. Slamming doors in the face of the one person who was beside her during all of this.

Liking girls.

She would pull some of her mom wisdom out of her ass for some of it. Not really helping or making much sense, but it worked out in the end. Julie always ended up figuring out something. Got better after some time and picked herself up again. Kept moving.

Time just keeps moving. It’s endless and doesn’t stop. Forcing all to move along with it. Whether they want to or not. Even when life gets in the way and forces them to stop. To become stuck. Julie feels stuck again. Did for a long time. It was easy to become stuck when there was security blanketed around her.

Julie doesn’t really feel like time moved as fast as it did. How it was six months, almost seven since her mom died. And Julie still feels like it was yesterday sometimes. Especially right now. Transported back to the day the police officers knocked on her door. Took her away. When she was frozen, but kept moving. Had to keep moving.

She doesn’t have to keep moving anymore. There’s no goal anymore. No checkmark in her progress or hurdle she has to jump over. Just a pile of tasks that are too overwhelming to acknowledge or unpack. So she lets them pile up. They aren’t important right now.

Julie winces when she tugs off a scab on her thumb. Starting the bleeding all over again. With a deep breath, she forces herself off the bed and to the bathroom. Digging for the first aid kit under the sink for another band aid. Ignoring her reflection in the mirror. The greasy strands of hair pulled back into a French braid. The dark circles around her eyes. That person isn’t her anymore.

Julie isn’t Julie right now. She’s something else. Unrecognizable. To herself. To her mom. To anyone.

“Hey, Julie,” Steve says before she can escape back to her room.

She takes another deep breath, ready to push him away again. Not ready for a talk. “What?” she asks, too tired to even sound pissed.

Steve holds out the phone. “Phone for you.”

Julie presses her lips together, taking the phone and holding it closer to her ear. Curling around herself. “Hello.”

“Julie, it is me, El.”

Great. “Hey, El. What’s up?” Julie tries to feign excitement. Terrified at the brief flutter of her heart that spawned by the sound of El’s voice.

“I realized I never got around to asking you this at lunch, but are you free next Friday?”

“Uh, I think so. I’ll have to double check.” No, she won’t. She doesn’t have anything going on, just wants to seem like she does.

“Would you like to come over for a sleepover? I know we just kind of had one, but I want a better one. And then Max can be there too.”

Julie doesn’t want a sleepover. Well, she does, but not one with Max. Because it would be Max and El on the bed. Because why would they make the girl in the wheelchair with chronic pain sleep on the air mattress on the floor. That’s rude and stupid. And it’s El’s room, so she would also be in the bed.

Meaning that Julie would be alone on the floor while her two friends share a bed. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. Normally she wouldn’t care. But now she does. Because she knows what it’s like to sleep in the same bed as El and the midnight talks that are kind of really serious but also really nice. The nervousness that creeps under her skin every time El’s eyes meet hers. The pounding of her heart as she tries to get a singular word out.

But she can’t say no. Can’t see the disappointment in El’s face or hear it in her voice. Would rather be there, suffering in silence, than miss out on time with her friends. Which she would enjoy for a majority of it, and could kind of need right now.

“Sure,” Julie says. “If I’m free and everything.”

She wishes she sounded more excited, but she can’t.

“Yay. Let me know as soon as possible if you are free. I will see you at school tomorrow.”

Julie’s slight smile drops. “Yeah, tomorrow. Talk to you later.”

The phone clicks onto the receiver as tears start to spring to Julie’s eyes. For reasons she doesn’t really know why but feels deep inside her chest. A pain she’s never felt. Crushing. Terrifying. A tear rolls down her cheek as she runs to her room, wiping it away quickly so Steve doesn’t see.

But he sees.

“Hey, are you ok?” he asks as Julie crosses into her bedroom.

“Just leave me alone,” she yells with a sob, slamming her door. Right in his worried face.

She can’t even make it to her bed before she falls. Slamming her back into the door and pulling her knees close to her chest. Wet patches forming on her knees. Breathing in stutter breaths just to let them out as broken sobs. Trying to pull herself together. Trying to keep it quiet. Knowing Steve is right behind the door, wondering what he can do.

What Julie’s feeling can’t be fixed. No matter what she tries. No matter how hard she tries. She can’t be normal anymore.

A slip of paper gets slid under the door next to her. After the sobs start to slow and Julie can see things again. She picks it up, unfolding it.

When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.

All it does is start Julie’s sobs again. How could she have been so lucky to have someone so understanding waiting for her outside the door? When her life went to shit. When things just keep going to shit. He’s still there. Even when she slams doors in his face and uprooted his entire life.

Without even blinking, he’s still there.

“Steve,” she says to her empty room when the tears slow. Hoping he can hear.

“Yeah,” the answer comes from the other side of the door.

Julie lets out a wet laugh. “When you said you were waiting, I didn’t think it’d be right outside the door.”

“Well, technically, it’s right next to your door. Only since I slid the note, though. I gave you space for a bit.”

Her knees fall to the ground, hands falling in her lap. Resuming the picking of her unbandaged thumb. “I appreciate that.”

A beat of silence. “You’re talking to me again. Does that mean you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not sure how to talk about it.”

“That’s ok. Do you want to wait to talk about it, see if you can find the words later?”

Her head gently bangs against the door. Mind racing to find the words. To say something so he can find the solution for her and the pain can go away. But it all leads to a question so unfathomable that she can’t even bear to ask it. Gets mad at herself for even thinking about it.

She does though. Over and over again. Her mind finding answers she doesn’t like. Doesn’t want to believe were a possibility. Truth is, she will never have an answer to that question. No matter how hard she searches for one. The one person who can give it isn’t here anymore. Leaving an uncertainty that would weigh over her head forever.

“I’m sorry,” Julie says instead. Apologizing for the things she can instead of searching for what she can’t. “For slamming the door in your face.”

“You can slam the door in my face as many times as you need to. Just as long as you agree to talk to me about it, when you’re ready to. I may not always follow my own rules, but it’s better to talk about things before they start to build up.”

Julie wipes away the stray tear rolling down her cheek. Moving to pick at the strands of her jeans so she doesn’t need another band aid. “I think this has been building up for a while now. I just didn’t know it was there.”

There’s silence across the door for a minute or two.

“You know what I kind of really want right now, chocolate chip cookies,” Steve says suddenly.

It’s so random that is makes Julie laugh. “What?”

“Yeah, you know, freshly made, warm chocolate chip cookies. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Julie smiles. “That actually does sound kind of nice.”

“Great. I’m going to go make some, you can join me if you want.”

She does kind of want to. After taking a deep breath, Julie picks herself off the floor. Wincing at the soreness of her legs from sitting on rough carpet for so long. Opens the door and heads to the kitchen. Steve is pulling out one of the many cookbooks he stole from his parents and turning to a recipe. Starting to grab the different ingredients.

He smiles when Julie searches their cabinets, searching for the mixing bowl they also stole from his parents. Probably thinking he’s had some sort of victory over this. Maybe he has. She’s out of the room, and probably about to eat something. It’s a small victory for the both of them.

The oven takes an eternity to preheat. Leaving the rolled-out cookies on the stovetop. Some of them mysteriously gone missing. Well, not mysteriously, she had a few more than she should. But so did Steve, so it was fine.

When the cookies are finally baked, Steve waits a few minutes before placing some on a plate and bringing them over to the blanket pile that is still acting as a couch. But instead, some of the chairs hold up the blankets, making a small fort.

It reminds her of the ones her mom and her made during thunderstorms. When the trailer would shake with each boom, but not the fort. With soft pillows and flashlight shadow puppet stories. Falling asleep when the thunder was far enough away that it became calming. Paired with the patter of rain on the roof. They were always safe in the fort.

Julie was safe in the fort.

She breaks the cookie in her hand, the warm chocolate smearing across her fingertips. Melting in her mouth as soon as they hit. Giving her the energy to say what she needs to say. What she wants to say.

“You know it was El that called, right.” Julie breaks the cookie again. “Well, of course you know. You’re the one who gave me the phone.”

Steve sits straighter, giving Julie his full attention. “Yeah, I know.”

“She was asking if I was free next Friday, for a sleepover.” Her heart starts racing as the words still stay unsaid. Trapped in her throat, even though she knows he wouldn’t care about them.

“That sounds fun. Did you want to go?”

Julie continues to stare at her hands, unable to look up. “Yeah, I do. It’s just. It’s harder now. Because I think, no, I know that I.” She takes a deep breath. She can do this. “I have a crush. On El.”

Steve takes a second to respond. Keeping the moment tense. Julie can only hear the sound of her own heart beating.

“That would make it harder,” he finally says.

“Yeah,” Julie chokes as the tears start to form again. “Yeah, it really does.”

Steve moves the plate of cookies out from in between them before scooting closer. Reaching out to place a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not,” Julie stops him before he can try to comfort her. “I hate that I’m like this. It’s terrifying. I don’t want like this to be but I am. And I’m going to screw everything up.”

She pulls her legs up to her chest again, the tears retracing their tracks down her cheeks. Even when she thought the wells had dried, it keeps flowing.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Steve exhales. “I felt the same way when I figured out I liked guys. So much so, that I pushed it down and forgot it for years. Kept pretending that this part of me wasn’t a part of me. Hated myself for it. Pushed that hatred outward toward people who didn’t deserve it. Just because I was so angry with myself that I couldn’t be normal.”

Julie clenches her eyes shut, trying to force the tears to stop flowing. Wanting this hurt to stop.

“There were a lot of factors that made me want to hide who I was, I think. My parents, mostly. My reputation. I was the kid that threw parties and had all the nicknames. Hawkins High School’s poster boy. A Harrington. Any wrong move and I was done for. I didn’t need that wrong move to be dangerous.”

She pulls herself more inward. Wondering if she becomes small enough, the problems will just go away. No longer hunting the prey hiding in the bushes.

“It took a lot for me to realize that I wasn’t-. That I wasn’t broken.” Steve takes a deep breath, clears his throat. “That this part of me was normal. Is normal. Just doesn’t always feel like it in a small town. It took meeting other people like me to realize that this was something I could be and still be happy. And believe me, there’s so much happiness waiting for you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Julie mutters into her knees. “It feels like everything keeps breaking apart over and over again.”

“Yeah, yeah it does.”

Julie lifts her head up, finally turning to look at Steve. “I just don’t want to mess up one of the first friendships I’ve had in years because I can’t stop acting weird around her. I can hate myself all I want, I can’t make her hate me too.”

Steve takes a deep breath, turning himself so he’s facing Julie completely. “And you won’t. El is one of the most loving and forgiving people I have ever met. Well, when she cares about someone. She can be pretty brutal to the people who she doesn’t like, but that’s not the point. El cares about you, she won’t judge you for this.”

“I can get not judging me for the liking girls bit. But liking her?” Julie doesn’t know how that could ever work out in her favor.

“Ok, so this next part doesn’t directly apply to your problem. And I’m not sure if any of this is even helping, but it just feels like it needs to be said and I know he won’t care if I share this for him.” He takes another breath. “But Eddie and I were kind of going through this same problem with each other. Only difference is I knew he was gay, and he didn’t know I was.”

“And the only difference between that situation and this one is that yours was a success story,” Julie says before he can continue. Shocking him. “You two aren’t as good as hiding it as you think you are. I picked it up a while ago.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, kinda figured. I’m more just trying to say that this thing you’re going through isn’t unique. Hell, half of the people in our group have had that feeling some way or another. And we’re still friends. You’re going to be just fine, trust me.”

Just fine doesn’t exactly sound like anything she wants to be. She’s been just fine for months. It’s kind of shitty. Not feeling like anything important, knowing she should be feeling more but can’t. Moving without really moving through life. Just going from one day to the next, them all blending together. Right up until fine becomes a lie again.

Until something unearths itself in the mind and can no longer be ignored. Brings all of its own problems and piles on top of all the others. Dragging up old baggage with it, only adding to the problem.

Leaving Julie with one more question she’s too afraid to ask.

So much in her life has changed. So much is different now. She’s a new person, one her mom wouldn’t recognize. Overwhelmed by grief. Brought into this large group of people, a giant family. Surrounded by people who are like her. Who show her that this is a life she could have. If she just put enough trust in herself.

If she put enough trust in her mom. And stopped wondering if she would still love Julie the same knowing that she will never marry a man. An answer Julie will never actually get.

Steve reaches out and pulls Julie into a hug. Comforts her the way a brother can, but it doesn’t bring the same comfort that Julie craves.

It’s things like this that makes Julie’s heart ache the most. How she will go through these big life events and never hear the same words of comfort again. Never have her mother’s weight sit on the foot of her bed, telling her it will all be ok. That no matter what, she will always love Julie. Never will stop as long as she lives. And even then, the love will transcend death and continue for infinity.

Nothing can stop infinity. Julie hopes that means nothing will stop her mother’s love either. Even this.

“Sorry for taking your coming out moment away from you,” Julie says after she calmed down. “I know you were waiting to tell me about it.”

Steve shrugs it off. “That’s ok. I was really dragging my feet with telling you, I’ve been ready for a while now, just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“For what it’s worth, it kind of helped. Made me feel a little better knowing that I’m not alone in this.”

“You’re not alone in anything, Julie. No matter what, there will be people behind you. Whether that’s me, your friends, anyone else lucky enough to meet you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks, though.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

. . .

The notice from the courthouse comes a week later. Alerting Steve that it’s time to approve the court date. One’s been selected for him, but can be pushed back if he needs it to. But it’s there. It’s real. This is actually happening.

He goes over the evidence again, confirms with Hopper that he can actually witness. Get the files all ready on his end. Then contacts his old nanny and gets talked into coming over for brunch. To catch up and see how he’s doing. Make sure she is what he needs for this case. Which she is. She was the longest one he ever had and was extremely meticulous. Most likely still has her pay stubs after all these years.

The last person he has to call is Nancy. Who doesn’t even know that he’s moved yet. Or that his parents are home.

It’s been a while since he’s called her, obviously, and he’s been avoiding it. Not wanting an earful of her again. But he needs to know when she’s back and if she’ll testify for him. She he dials her number.

“Nancy speaking.”

“Hey, Nance, it’s Steve. I have some things to catch you up on.”

She sighs. “Oh, I know. Robin refused to tell me anything about whatever’s going on. I think it was to force you to call me.”

“Yeah probably.”

After a long conversation and a lecture from Nancy on the importance of phone calls, she agrees to testify on his behalf. As both a character witness and also to back up some of the evidence he has.

Everything’s starting to get put together. Now all there is to do is wait.

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