#holy posts

Is the s3 community just not that into dbh, or are we drying up that much in general? 

Steve: What? Why? Why can't you just stay here?

Robin: Come on, dingus we can't back out now. We're on the committee.

Heather: Yes!

Robin: We're presenting.

Heather: Yes!

Steve: Fine! But I do not want them dancing naked under the full moon.

Heather: Don't worry, the nudity is entirely optional. As you well remember.

I remember someone questioning Dacre Montgomery's acting choice of putting toilet paper on his tongue in this scene (if you mentioned this, tag your post).

LSD is liquid and is usually ingested on blotting papers, sometimes with art or designs.

Given this is a high school party, it's safe to assume that Tommy loaded up a couple rolls of toilet paper with various blots on random sheets and it was a luck of the draw sort of situation.

Final answer? Tommy's rager had a game of LSD spiked toilet paper. Lucky licking!

If anyone is interested about the scene in context, here's a video.

This is not the point of anything at all, ever, but why the fuck aren't there big sleep overs and parties at Steve's? The house is empty. He's all alone. The dude can't sleep.

Like, why wouldn't the kids beg to go over there and hang out?

You're telling me they wouldn't be little horror goblins in that house? That they wouldn't love being there?

Given how absent the parents are, they could just tell everyone they're at Will's house, and since Joyce is in on it, she covers for them. After all, now the kids are out of the house, and they're all with Steve and his house is safe and the kids like the pool, the tv, and all the snacks.

Steve's house is probably also the best for planning and any type of operations based stuff.

Maybe he puts his foot down and the only thing he won't let them do at his place is DnD campaigns because the one and only time he let them, they threw something at some old ass oil painting from 1600s Italy that his mom bought in Venice on her honeymoon.

Bonus points if Johnathan and Nancy have no idea where their siblings are.

Double bonus points if someone makes a comment to Nancy and Johnathan about how good Steve is with kids and he's just to thoughtful.

To fix Stranger Things across all seasons, just so one small thing: remove Vecna.

This idea will not leave my brain so I guess it's time for it to be the Internet's problem.

Eleven wanders the upside down. The seal feels warm against her fingers. There is no way out. As she wanders the empty, uncharted wasteland, she's unafraid. She thinks maybe she should be, as this is just another prison, another task for her to complete in total isolation.

As she wanders, she thinks about closing the portal, how she latched her consciousness onto the only other living mind she could find. On Will. On his fears. On his love. For his brother. For Johnathan.

Maybe love is more than she thought. Maybe love as Mike tried to explain was not all the love there is. Maybe there are different kinda of love. After all, Mike showed her Eggos. Lucas showed her thick homemade pancakes with chocolate chips.

Kids could be peers, not rivals, something for her to put herself against and win.

She wanders for a long time. The hunger becomes unbearable as her stomach tingles like it's bubbling. All she can think of are the incredible pancakes she had the Sinclair house. She dreams of maple syrup and honey. When her legs are sore from hours, from days of walking, she collapses.

The smell of dead demodogs is not so bad in the Upside Down. The texture of is terrible. But she's eaten worse things.

As her mind simmers back to consciousness, she realizes she's moving through the dense air of the Upside Down. Being carried. She tenses, but her consciousness just reaches out on instinct, slipping into the one who carries her.

And she sees herself. She sees him. When she closed the portal, he cried out and collapsed in water. Big water. In his mind, it's called a beach. The sun was all around him and the world went small. The bright sun fades around him as his body burns as if he's fire made flesh.

In the darkness, all she can see is him. All he can see is her.Their eyes met.

There's a woman's voice there screaming that he has a name, he is not Twenty-One anymore. The voice is far off but is cut off by the sound of crashing waves.

"You're alive," he then says.

She blinks her eyes open.

The path he carves through the chaos is intentional and quick, eyes ahead, focused. He knows where they're going. She can see in his mind where he's carrying her. She's not afraid.

As she shifts through his mind, his memory jumbles. Echoes of screams, doors slamming, and full body pain. It's hard to tell her pain from his.

He climbs through what seems like a rift in the Upside Down. It's terrifying enough to consider such an idea that she wraps her arms around his neck and hides her face.

Eventually, he carries her through a final portal into a laboratory. This one is not stark white. It's shades of light gray and green. It's less artificial and harsh. The temperature is warmer.

A woman with glasses kneels down in a smart white lab coat and asks for her number. Asks what lab she's from. Asks what her powers are?

Eleven stands on her own, but presses herself close to the boy who carried her. He's older than the boys she met in Hawkins, but a boy all the same. Or so she thinks.

He shifts his weight and clears his throat. The woman looks to him and she sighs, defeated.

After that, another woman escorts her to bathe and eat. She keeps a connection to the boy, tracking his location in the facility.

"Are you like me?" she thinks into his consciousness.

"No." is his response. "I have no powers, and was deemed failed experiment Twenty-one."

"But you heard. When I cried out for help, you heard me."

He thinks for a while. Confusion. Hurt. Uncertainty. Doubt. Failure. Failure. Failure.

"You have more powers than you think. Keep it from them. I will try to keep you safe."

Would anywhere be truly safe for her again? Being inside his consciousness, she could feel his strength, the determination to keep her safe. If she could stay connected to him, like this, it was possible she could lie, could be safe. He escaped. In the back of his mind, there is a loud, booming thought that he escaped all this and yet he's back. They're trapped. He wants them to be free.

"My friends," she smiles as the thought of them, "they called me El, but I chose the name Jane. Did you choose a name?"

The backseat of the 1979 Z28 Camaro is smaller than a standard grocery store shopping cart. Look at this cab.