If demogorgons are real, why not bigfoot? ❰ the tone in her voice is serious, but in a mocking way. she knows it's ridiculous, okay? but it's her thing. let her have her campy paranormal newsletters.

robin tilts her head back, squinting her eyes closed as tight as possible and blinking them open again. fuck, they're starting to burn. ❱ I don't know if you actually want to get me started on UFOs. Because, I mean, I will absolutely oblige you, but if you thought I couldn't shut up before...well, you've seen nothing yet. ❰ the skinship means nothing to her — well, it means something. it's nice having tactile relationships after having basically none for so long. but eddie doesn't give her the vibe that most guys do that would turn arms around your back into arms moving in other places, so it's fine. he has this oddly comfortable presence when she's not anxious about his demise.

and it's really, really important that she doesn't think about that right now.

so she leans into it, the curve of her skull resting against the back of his arm now. her arm that's free lifts her hand into a telephone shape, placed next to her head. robin puts on an awful midwestern accent, attempting to stifle as many tears as she can for her bit, ❱ Yes, hello? Have I reached Alternate Dimensional Escape Tours? Yes, I arrived and you've lost my luggage in some kind of time rift, and there wasn't a bellboy waiting to bring it up for me anyway. I'll be writing a strongly worded letter to my congressman, the Better Business Bureau and the Interdimensional Travel Board.