#implied scooping

[lucky-kirin]

Security Glitch pages 69-70

[Last pages]

Sorry for the late update, I’ve had a lot going on in real life, my grandpa just passed away recently and so I’ve only now started to get back to some normalcy. So the comic might be slowing down for a bit, at least until the Christmas period is over.

Thank you to my friendo @pixlokita for doing the speech bubbles, they always do a great job.

Bonus doodle by Pix:

[loveinhawkins]

There’s perks to working a summer job where there’s seemingly no manager. Steve got an at most five minute interview with an overly smiley dude who said, “An independent workforce is very important to us,” and didn’t even check his references before telling Steve that he was hired.

So it’s down to him and Robin alone to open and close Scoops Ahoy. And the lack of any boss—not even a supervisor—is mostly great, means that no-one’s hovering over their shoulders droning on about ‘company policy’, means they can take their breaks as and when, and no-one’s tapping their foot with an eye on the clock.

But then there’s the times where it’s absolutely swamped with customers, and the statistical likelihood of having to serve an asshole skyrockets; and most assholes don’t tend to think of teenagers slinging ice-cream as being worthy of even the tiniest shred of respect.

“Are you wilfully this stupid, missy?” a douchebag snaps at Robin during the lunchtime rush, after she added chocolate sauce on his sundae instead of raspberry.

She remakes the order with a look that, if there was any justice in the world, would make him drop down dead on the spot. But instead, he just scoffs when she passes him the new sundae.

“Have a spectacular day,” Robin says acerbically, and if it was any other time, Steve would be ducking down behind the counter, pretending to check on stock levels so he can hide his laughter.

Except Robin’s also doing that thing where she blinks a lot, and Steve knows she’s fighting tears of frustration because he privately does something remarkably similar.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest coupled with what’s becoming a steadily frequent flare of protectiveness. That one usually comes with the kids and The Upside Down—except Robin is a girl who’s round about his age, so he half-heartedly assumes it must be because he has a crush on her.

But he’s not even thinking about said crush at all when he gently bumps her towards the break room with his hip and says, “Take yours first, I’ve got this.”

For half a second, Robin’s eyes seem to shine in gratitude before she puts a hand over her heart and declares, dripping in sarcasm, “You’re a god among men, Harrington, I never believed what anyone said about you.”

“You’re wel—hey, what did they say about me?”

The door to the break room shuts, but not before he hears Robin let out a genuine snort of laughter. He smiles and pivots back to the register.

The line’s calmed down; Steve recognises a substitute teacher waiting to be served: Mrs Greeves, who��s been at Hawkins High since the sixties, at least. There’s no other adult in the shop, so it’s presumably her little granddaughter who’s running about the place, without so much as a glancing eye on her.

But Steve doesn’t have to worry about a potential lost child scenario, because a guy suddenly slips out of the booth he’d been sitting in, bending down to the kid’s eye level and subtly ensuring that she doesn’t hightail it out of there.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to recognise him; he’s still getting used to the whole phenomenon of seeing people without the high school setting behind them. Like, Robin used to be just a name from a class he can’t even recall, and now he knows her for her dry wit and love of cryptic crosswords.

And this Eddie Munson is sort of a different beast from the guy Steve saw stomping around the cafeteria tables.

He’s dressed pretty much the same, (Hellfire shirt sans the leather jacket must be the ‘summer look’, Steve reckons), but he’s quieter as he chats with the little girl, letting her try on one of his skull rings to distract from her obvious boredom. His grin is softer, too.

Mrs Greeves clears her throat, and Steve promptly puts on his vacant ‘delightful customer service’ smile.

“Afternoon, Mrs Greeves, what can I do you for?”

She orders a simple strawberry cone for the kid, Abigail, and two scoops of lemon and vanilla in a cup for herself—appropriate, Steve thinks, because her face looks like she’s sucking on a lemon half the time.

As he prepares the ice-cream, he’s quickly remembering why she’s on the list of substitute teachers that students dread, even if he’s only had the ‘pleasure’ of being in a class supervised by her once. He has vague memories of how she’d talk with other teachers in a scandalised stage whisper about students from ‘broken homes’—he’s pretty sure she’s still an austere teacher at the Sunday School, too.

“Abigail,” she says sharply, when Steve finishes the cone, and she finally seems to realise her granddaughter isn’t by her side, “what have I told you about—”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Eddie says hurriedly. Abigail hands him the ring back, very carefully dropping it into his palm, and he gives her a gentle smile. “I don’t mind—”

“—not talking to strangers?” Mrs Greeves finishes, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken.

“But,” Eddie says with tiny frown, “you know me, ma’am, I’m—”

“Let me be plain then, Mr Munson.” She finally turns to favour Eddie with a scathing look. “I meant that I don’t want my granddaughter around a corrupting influence.”

There’s an awful silence while Abigail collects the cone.

“Oh,” Eddie says, still crouched down by the booth. He sounds very small.

And Steve’s view of Mrs Greeves quickly turns from a general dislike to an icy hatred.

“And here’s yours,” he says, sliding the cup over.

She looks down. Her mouth goes all pinched in displeasure.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“It’s your ice-cream,” Steve says, playing up a confused blink. “Is—is this not what you ordered? I’m terribly sorry for the—”

“Don’t be obtuse, Mr Harrington. These scoops are tiny; they barely fill the cup!”

Yup, Steve thinks with a savage satisfaction. They’re the size of a melon ball, and even that’s being generous.

“Mrs Greeves, I’m afraid it’s store policy. Nothing to do with—”

“What kind of policy could possibly justify—”

“Rudeness,” Steve says smoothly.

Eddie’s head jerks up at that, his mouth slightly agape.

“Mr Harrington,” Mrs Greeves says, her face turning puce, “I would like to see your manager.”

“The manager,” Steve says flatly. “Okay, sure. I’ll go get him.”

What he does next, compared to everything else that’s happened in his life thus far, isn’t all that stupid.

Well. Maybe a little.

It’s worth it though, to see the way Eddie Munson’s eyes widen at the sight.

Making sure to have zero expression throughout, Steve mimes walking downstairs, throws off his hat while crouched behind the counter, then re-emerges with a quick ruffle of his hair.

“How can I help you?” he asks, like they’ve only just met.

The cup of minuscule ice-cream is soon up-ended as Mrs Greeves storms out, barking over her shoulder, “Abigail, come here!”

Eddie stands to let the kid out of the way, who seems blissfully ignorant with her cone. Steve’s sure he hears him mutter under his breath, “Jesus, she’s not a dog.”

“I’ll be reporting you, Steve Harrington, make no mistake!”

Yeah, good fucking luck. I sure as hell don’t know who really runs this place.

“Uh-huh,” Steve says. “Looking forward to it. Harrington with two ‘r’s one ‘n’, ma’am.”

“Shit, Harrington,” Eddie drawls. He’s leaning next to the booth, hip cocked, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen it himself, Steve might’ve been convinced that the Eddie from a moment ago was a different person. “That was not worth getting fired over.”

“I’m not getting fired,” Steve says—although honestly, if that had been a real threat, he thinks his actions would probably have been the same. Huh. “I meant it, dude, there’s no manager here.”

Eddie nods slightly, looks up at the Scoops Ahoy sign and grins. “So you and Buckley are the skeleton crew on this ship.”

“Uh, I guess?”

Come on, man, Steve thinks, as Eddie keeps up the wide grin like it’s a shield. This isn’t the high school cafeteria; I’m not about to hit your lunch tray or whatever.

Out loud, he calls into the back, “Hey, Robin, the chocolate’s low. I’m just gonna put in a new batch if you want some of the old stuff.”

The sliding doors open.

Robin sighs as if she’s just had a very relaxing facial, but she’s actually holding a folded newspaper with the cryptic crossword all finished.

“I am so chilled out,” she says, with a delivery that could rival Eddie Munson’s trademark dramatics.

“You’re so weird,” Steve says mildly while making up a cup with the leftover chocolate ice-cream.

“You’ve just got no taste, Harrington.” She waggles the crossword at him. “You should give ‘em a try.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “I’m no good at that code-breaking stuff.” He passes her the cup, goes to start assembling his own and pauses. “Hey, Munson, you want some?”

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” Eddie says, sounding suddenly wrong-footed. “Sorry, I’m just, uh, killing time before my movie starts. The other stores said if I wasn’t buying anything I should get out, so…”

“So you’ve come to our oceanic sanctum,” Robin deadpans.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, just ‘cause you do crosswords doesn’t mean you have to turn into a dictionary. Ow.” He doesn’t quite duck in time to avoid the newspaper smacking him in the face. He turns to address Eddie again, who appears to be fighting back laughter. “What’re you gonna see, Munson?”

Eddie’s eyes glance away for a second. “Something very scary and befitting of my stature, Harrington.”

Robin, who’s made a habit of memorising the mall’s movie schedules, checks her watch and narrows her eyes. “Return to Oz?”

Eddie’s cheeks start to glow. “Fuck off, Buckley, I’ve never liked you.”

“You’re such a liar, I’ve heard your applause at band practice—”

“Okay, but,” Steve cuts in, jumping up onto the counter with one hand. “I thought the whole point was Oz was a dream. How can she return to—?”

“Christ, I don’t know, Harrington,” Eddie says. “I didn’t pick it for critical analysis; the poster had a dude with a pumpkin head on it, and I thought it looked cool.”

“Oh, I saw that,” Robin says. “Made me think of when all those pumpkins went bad. Like, imagine if they had faces.”

Unthinkingly, Steve says around his ice-cream spoon, “No way, I’m not dealing with that, too.”

“Excusez-moi?” Robin says.

“Hmm?” Steve says innocently.

“Hey, you missed quite a show earlier on, Buckley,” Eddie says. “Reckon Harrington deserves a tally in the ‘you rule’ column.”

Steve glares at Robin. “I told you to keep that outta view of the customers.”

“Ah, but I’m not buying anything,” Eddie points out, “ergo, not a customer.”

“Ergo,” Steve mimics.

“That board is strictly for romantic successes,” Robin says.

Eddie snorts. “Aw, that’s hardly fair. I think it should have more… rounded criteria.”

Robin’s eyes narrow again. “Eddie Munson, you’ve never complimented a jock in your life, don’t start now.”

“Hey,” Steve says, overselling a ‘wounded’ expression. “I’m more than that, y’know. I contain multitudes.”

“Sure,” Eddie says, smiling. “Folks, we’ve got Hawkins’s own Whitman right here.”

Steve flips him off and, on a whim, decides to channel his inner Dustin.

“Maybe I just see the world more clearly than you two ‘cause I’m free of societal constraints.”

“You’re working in a mall,” Robin says.

“High school societal contraints. I am unshackled and ergo, free.”

“Damn,” Eddie says, patting down his pockets for an imaginary pen, “I should use that.”

“Stop inflating Harrington’s ego and go catch your totally scary movie,” Robin says.

Eddie checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Um.” And Steve thinks that it almost looks like he’s reluctant to leave. “Time flies, I guess. Better go ashore.” He catches Steve’s eye, gives a tiny little salute as he leaves. “May your summer continue to be mundane and manager-less.”

“You’re a poet, Munson,” Steve says, even though Eddie’s already out the door.

“So what was the show I missed?” Robin says. “I couldn’t hear anything back there.”

“Nothing that exciting.”

Steve tells her, and even though a smile tugs at her mouth as he re-enacts his mime, for some reason her eyes are kinda sad for most of it.

“Good job, Popeye,” she says thoughtfully—and though it directly contradicts her own words, she marks up a singular ‘you rule’ tally for the rest of her shift before wiping it off.

Eddie doesn’t re-appear after the movie—not that Steve’s keeping track of time, or anything—but at least they don’t have anymore nightmares for customers. As Steve mops, he thinks about how Dustin’s return from Camp Something Something is approaching—and the fact that he’s circled the date with a goofy smiley face is between him and his bedroom calendar.

He smiles to himself while clocking out of the now ghostly mall, recalling Eddie’s parting words.

The thought of a mundane, manager-less summer stretching before him sounds pretty damn good.

[qomrades]

the thing is the sanctity of pstobin’s friendship soulmatism cannot be touched on to me. robin is NOT allowed to have come out to anyone before steve. steve is NOT allowed to have a best friend his age when he meets robin. there should NEVER be a witness to their bathroom scene (it is sacrosanct). they need to be at peak pathetic losercore at their time of meeting otherwise they wouldnt merge at an atomic level the way that they have. they need to be at their loneliest so that their bond is that much more important!!!! okay

[haunthouse]

also, because i'm still thinking about the disco elysium kids:

i think the difference in how people react to cuno vs cunoesse is really so indicative of peoples' reactions in general to trauma survivors. they're both kids who scream at you and call you slurs, but cuno will open up to you a little if you talk to him the right way and pass the right checks and give him time. and you can go to cuno's apartment and find out exactly what's caused him to act that way; you can see his dad and hear about how his dad acts and go "well, his behavior is still shitty, but he's 12 and i know why he acts that way, so it's fine", and then harry can take him back to jamrock with him and presumably into a life that's at least slightly better than his life in martinaise.

but i've seen (mostly outside of tumblr) a lot of people who play the game absolutely hate cunoesse, and i think it's because you don't get such an easy explanation for why she acts how she does? she screams and calls you slurs, too, but she won't let you get close to her. she freaks out if you even walk near her and accuses you of trying to hurt her. you don't get to find her house or her parents or an easy explanation, and she's not about to give you any potential ammo to hurt her further with by explaining what's happened to her. and it's pretty clear if you look for it — a 10 year old isn't just gonna accuse any adult who walks near her of attempted assault unless some real bad shit has happened to them — but because she isn't able to be can-opened by harry, isn't willing to calm down and talk to you, isn't able to let her guard down to give the audience insight into her mind, she's immediately seen as less sympathetic. people empathize more with those who respond to trauma with sadness than with anger, even when both of the subjects are little kids, and i think it's fucked up that just because she's angry cunoesse gets less sympathy from the audience than cuno does!!

(also not to mention like. the additional axes of gender, and of her being from outside of revachol, and of the different types of abuse at play for each of them. because i'm sure that all also plays a part in the differing reactions in-universe and on an audience level!)

[temothylol]

The WordGirl wiki referred to him as “bi-accented” and then this happened

[guys-im-literally-spiderman]

a little study on Eddie's family, bc i love projecting

Eddie Munson fucking hates ice cream. 

That wasn’t always the case. When he was little it was quite literally his favourite thing. 

On Sundays his mama would take him to painfully boring mass services in tight and scratchy outfits. It was always awful, but afterwards his mama would always take him for ice cream at the small shop on the end of the street the church was on. 

By the end of mass each week he could barely sit still, squirming in excitement, planning which new combination he would try that week. 

It was their thing. Just theirs. 

Until one day, he mentioned it to his father. 

Eddie knew his dad didn’t really care, even aged 7. Yet, every time his father showed any interest in Eddie’s life, all of a sudden every detail he could conjure came bursting out of his mouth. He was so excited to finally have the attention he craved from his father. 

Eddie was pretty sure his dad never actually listened though. Because every time this happened, his father would eventually be sick of his rambling and slip back into his previous apathy. 

That time though, he was proven wrong. 

Because later that week, Eddie's father told him to put his shoes on, exclaiming that they were going out for ice cream.

And they did. But it wasn’t fun like it was with mama. 

Rather than spinning tales of their weeks to each other, when eddie went for ice-cream with his father, his father spent the entire time lecturing him, and speaking over him every time he had something to say.

Like just knowing eddie likes something makes him a great dad without the real effort. 

It kept happening, and became a routine. It even replaced ice cream with his mama, because he no longer squirmed in his seat in anticipation, but instead spent mass focussing on the increasing pit of dread in his tummy. 

Instead of feeling like home, the sweet smells of the ice cream store turned his stomach. 

One time, soon after his mama died, he really did throw up. 

His father never took him out for ice cream. 

Eddie did not lay his eyes on an ice cream store again for years after that. He had memorised the paths past them, systematically averting his eyes, and crossing the street. 

That is until starcourt opens. 

He doesn't want to go. He believes it is against everything he believes. All shapes and colours and capitalism. 

But eventually his curiosity gets the better of him, and he drags himself halfway across the town in the heat just to see what the big deal is. 

He’s walking around aimlessly, making a point to look unhappy so as to not harm his image, when he spots it. 

Scoops Ahoy.

Of course this capitalist hellscape has a goddamn ice cream store. 

He stares at it for a while feeling a lot of, well, everything. 

Anger, sadness, grief, maybe a little bit of that childhood joy. 

He’s about to turn away and get as far away as fucking possible from that place when he spots one steve harrington in some very short shots, and a goddamn sailors uniform. 

And he totally doesn't care. Has no reason to, Steve Harrington is an asshole. 

A very hot asshole, though. 

Eddie really doesn’t mean to keep going back, but he can’t help himself. He finds himself hovering outside scoops ahoy. Not going in just observing. 

Observing most oddly a kind steve harrington. One that has running jokes with robin Buckley, and a group of loud kids who seem to annoy him every chance they get. 

He realises that for them, Scoops Ahoy is a happy place, a home. Like his ice cream shop had been for him. 

One day, while he was hovering outside the store once again, Steve caught his eye. Eddie expects a scowl, or at least to be ignored. Instead Steve Harrington waves a hand to call him over. 

And Eddie is being brave (and also completely running on auto pilot because steve fucking harrington just called him over) so he walks in and up to the counter. “Hey Munson, you want some ice cream?” 

“Oh no, I–” Eddie feels a little bit of panic. Not only has he not had ice cream in years, he forgot his fucking wallet. 

“Oh come on, let me give it to you for free. I owe you anyway, you;ve been undercharging me for years.”

“Well, actually, I’ve just been over charging your asshole friends.”

“Oh,” Steve responds with a bit of a laugh, “Well then take it as a thank you for not thinking I suck.” 

Eddie’s about to open his mouth to disagree when Steve cuts him off, “come on dude, what flavour?”

“Butterscotch.” Eddie states. His mama’s favourite. 

“Good choice, you don;t strike me as a butterscotch person though.”

“It was my mum’s favourite.”

“She had good taste.” Steve says, handing him the ice cream with a warm smile. 

All of a sudden…

Eddie Munson fucking loves ice cream.

[moicat]

“It’s all my fault.”

.

THIS TOOK ME FOREVER OHHH MY GOSH, I tried to make it super colorful as well.

hope you guys like it!

@moicat

[audhd-nightwing]

okay let me explain my gay steve harrington thoughts to you guys

steve is desperate for any type of love/affection. he has a hard time trying to differentiate between romantic and platonic feelings (ex. robin but i’ll come back to that). his only “friends,” tommy and carol, were only around him for status/only knew the side of him he showed everyone else. he’s not truly known by anyone until robin.

in HS he’s popular and attractive, therefore expected to date/hook up with girls, so he does because it’s what he’s been told is “normal” (this is why he has a reputation for sleeping around in junior year, he kinda overdoes it because he’s just doing what he thinks he is supposed to)

then nancy wheeler comes along, who doesn’t care that he’s popular, doesn’t treat him differently from anyone else and it’s just… it’s refreshing to be treated like a regular human being. he actually enjoys hanging out her and cares about the things she does (unlike with tommy and carol, who he doesn’t really like being around).

he genuinely wants to befriend her, but has never felt like that with someone else before so he just assumes it’s romantic attraction (nancy is “the first girl he loved,” in reality she’s the first person he ever actually wanted to be friends with, not just his parents friends kid or someone that his parents approved of)

so they date (also nancy is a lesbian with comphet and was in love with barb). season 2 happens etc etc

in s3 he no longer in has his highschool popularity status, and is wrongfooted and awkward, not sure of his place in society. so he attempts to go back to what he knows: flirting with girls. which does not work out at all. but since he has a reputation as a playboy, he continues to flirt anyway (because who is he without that?)

then along comes robin, the second person steve has ever wanted to befriend, and he likes her even more than nancy because she’s snarky and funny and they’re a surprisingly good team. mistaking platonic feelings for romantic feelings part two occurs.

but then robin tells him about tammy thompson and his mind kind of shuts down, because all he can think is “it’s okay to like someone of the same gender? it must be, because robin is awesome and she does so, maybe… maybe it’s okay if i do too?” and then he realizes robin is kind of freaking out and he swallows thickly, chewing on his lip before just asking “if you can like girls, does that mean i can like boys?”

and robin freezes, extremely confused and not at all expecting that reaction but soon realizes he’s being serious and nods. “yeah, dingus. you can like boys. and girls too if you want.”

steve’s lip wobbles and his eyes are glossy when he whispers, “is it okay if i only like boys?”

robin inhales sharply and decides that she would die for this man in a heartbeat, and that she’s never letting him go. “yeah, it’s okay.”

she pulls him into a hug and they both cry, steve apologizing through tears for ruining her coming out and robin just giggling wetly and telling him to shut up. eventually steve explains it all to robin, and she tells him about how she realized she wasn’t straight.

later, steve will tell her “i think you’re my best friend,” and she‘ll smile and ruffle his hair and just say, “yeah, me too.”

btw i heavily imply that he’s autistic throughout this, so if u notice that u get a forehead kiss

[robbie-verse]

if steve harrington doesn't end up being bisexual the male population of hawkins is going to be so fcking devastated man

[bravevolunteer]

michael brainrot but i am just too eepy to articulate any of it properly

[cr0wc0rpse]

I know that for work tomorrow I have to do cookies but if I have to do a Second batch for both I will straight up walk into traffic

[melodythebunny]

Wordgirl: The Forgotten Past

Prologue

(A/N: thanks for @ninjastormhawkkat for the fic title)

There was a chill in the air, despite it being in the middle of summer. The sky was cloudy and gray, matching the mood of the citizens of Fair City. A crisp breeze seemed to awaken everyone from their slumber. Heads all slightly rising. 

It was going to rain soon…

Deep sighs of pain drifting about.

Family and friends alike were crowded around the city's local graveyard. A closed casket Funeral as a parent of the deceased insisted. It was hard for them to look upon their fallen family member. Too painfully hard.

They were soon joined by other people, even the criminals of this quaint town. On this gloomy day there were no bad guys, just friendly acquaintances. no crimes, no one spending time in jail or court. All to bid farewell to someone they once knew. Someone who was a beacon of inspiration.

Unanimously all dressed in black. It suited the mood. Somber, serious and silent.

A few tried to speak in hopes of breaking it. But all in vain. Silence was never ending.

The classmates and friends of the deceased all huddled together. Unspoken memoirs passed around. Clutching gifts to be given away.

Victoria casted a small glance towards her parents. Their faces no longer held that mighter than thou look but instead drawn in frowns. It was clear they were reflecting off of this event. It was a bit of a surprise that mr. And mrs. Best decided to fund the funeral…then again it became abundantly known how much things weren't all the same anymore.

Possibly, never will be.

Eileen didn't want today to be her birthday. It was too sad and grey. she figured it wouldn't be fair to the dead person.

Tobey couldn't even open his mouth without breaking down crying. Who could really blame him?

Scoops and violet tried comforting him the best they could. It'll be alright, Violet said. Despite not knowing if that was entirely true. Scoops, the junior news reporter, while he was there for the funeral and work, he couldn't focus on reporting anything. All he could write down was:

Pain. So much pain.

Dr. Two brains was the most unresponsive out of them all. Even when they were giving him their condolences he had no reaction. Emotionless on the surface level. A weeping storming in the inside.

Somehow it all felt like his fault. He could have- should have prevented this from all happening. It was a foolish thought, considering the circumstances. No one knew this would happen. No one had control on anything. But nonetheless that's what plagued him.

It weighed him down emotionally and physically.

In truth….That's how the mourners all seemed to feel. the group shuffled along the gravel path, like zombies. Numb and cold.

No one dared to speak. It was as if they were at a loss for words. All eyes were staring straight ahead. Right at the gravestone. Decorated with flower bouquets, unread letters, notes and pretty princess merchandise.

The gravestone read:

Rebecca 'Becky' Boxleitner

A daughter

A friend

A star still shining in the night sky

Our hope and hero 

Wordgirl

(@liloskull343 @drtwobrainsstuff)

[wolves-etc]

hello please have some "actually a half-vampire just not aware of it" anton au thoughts

(virgil is human and clueless because I refuse for this to be otherwise)

goldblum figures it out and takes anton aside the second time he's brought in for questioning like "dude, are you okay? you got fake fangs instead of using your real vampire ones, you don't need those, you can just— wait, why are you crying—"

(goldblum's either a vampire himself or, to borrow a thing that's too good not to borrow & because it fits the gleefully-open-minded-about-fringe-shit vibe, he dated a vampire once)

@darkfinch had this LOVELY idea for the vampire intiates to stick together as a community post-canon and to my mind, what makes that better here is if most of 'em turn out to be real vampires to some degree - or Something Else, or just Aware of this shit. they're in it for the fun, for the local community, for the "yeah this is bullshit but some of it's fun bullshit and it's funny to see how bad at it the leader is."

when they manage to corner anton (freaking out quietly in his loft) (his whole world shattered in pieces around him) (goldblum gave him a number to call to answer some questions but the poor guy's petrified) half of them are like "we thought you knew and were just trying to blend in!" and half are like "we were trying to figure out how to tell you!!" and it's just this mess of supportive-but-worried chaos.

...and anton, betrayed, off-kilter, already primed to question the programming of the last year or so has some people to help set him on the right track.

this ALSO sets us up for a thing. :) a thing where maybe goldblum looks the other way (an actual acknowledgement by the still-shitty cops in this shitty cop show of how awful the situation is) or there's a terribly unfortunate powercut and a few of the initiates get to pay virgil a visit.

they admit it to anton while very drunk a year or so later and he laughs so hard he cries <3

[glitch-in-the-code]

I really think that most people don’t understand the complexity of Mike and CC’s relationship

I also don’t think they understand what is so clearly implied in SL about Mike and Elizabeth

[oceanxveiined]

Special Dish: Sea God’s Catch

Base: Sashimi platter

❛❛ The fish and garnishes seem oddly cut, but nonetheless the meat is chilled, tender, and its fragrance holds a sweet zest to it and an odd hint of spice from the side made to go with it. With Danae’s usual lack of culinary skills, it seems she must have put lots of practice into this. And been a bit overeager in her efforts, the overwhelmingly hearty portion considered. Your expression seems to fluster her. “What?! A proper meal’s good to keep up your strength! So eat up! Wh–you want to share it?! I...ugh, fine, I’ll help you finish– ❜❜