#jim anon

[strawberry-metal]

That's too bad. :( - Jim

Holy shit

[soosoosoup]

even more critters: broz

[frownyalfred]

I have a silly little headcanon that the only reason Gordon knows Batman is Bruce Wayne is because one time, shortly after the Bat and him started working "together" semi-regularly he had to interview Mr. Wayne at a crime scene and when he's done he turns around for a second as he grabs a cig from his pocket. When he goes to offer one to Wayne like he does to everyone, and the Bat, Wayne is just gone.

Gordon spots him a few moments later on the other side of the crime scene

Just, it's still early so the disappearing once done talking to Gordon has become habit but not a conscious one yet that Bruce is aware of and controls. So for a moment he disappeared like he would of if he were in the suit

“Things the Bats accidentally do outside of the suit because they’re so used to doing it in the suit” is one of new favorite tropes. It includes that Jason post the other day about walking differently with/without a 20 lb gun belt around your hips, etc.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

hellooooo I don't know if you even remember me but Jim anon here! 👋🏾 okay sorry for disappearing life got in the way but I found some time now the headcanon is kinda short and not very developed but it's late whoops so Jim, our eternal soft boy, would do great with an equally soft girl, sure. but what about a true femme fatale, badass lady✨?

I can really imagine a very educated, classy girl who cannot resist our soft boy's charm (who could?) and of course he falls head over heels for her as well but has no idea she's actually interested in him

she's definitely out of his league for him so there is no way...until there is way and they go on a date and then another and then they're officially dating and all

Jim is quite honestly starstruck and no one probably believes him when he's like 'yeah, that's my girl' but guys, she really is his girl 😉

and of course there is so much more to her than the fact she dresses fancy and looks she's coming straight out of a 30s movie and that's what Jim loves the most, even if he was first attracted to her physically

but she's also fierce and a real boss and Jim is her #1 fan

I feel like it would be a great contrast (even if they're equally enamored for one another), the view of random Jim, pretty basic and Miss Y/N with her satin blouses, her bold red lips and always amazing hair

and she would be so protective of him because he's her man who falls asleep on the couch and loves it when she plays with his hair hair and tries to understand the 16 steps of her skincare routine so you better not mess with him (she probably already punched/slapped someone for saying something bad to Jim like 'oh you got a sugar daddy' or some shit) and Jim was just 'idk if it's normal to find this THAT hot'

oh and to go back to one of the older headcanon, she would absolutely stare up and down Yvonne when meeting her at that party but in a very diplomatic way? like keep her manicured fingers around Jim's waist and smile because little Yvonne is quite literally dying of jealousy

anyway give me soft boy Jim and his femme fatale girl, I need this 😤

Hai! Of course I remember you! Hope you've been well!

I'm an absolute sucker for that 30s chic, old Hollywood glamor aesthetic.

They'd seem mismatched at first but they're honestly kind of perfect for each other. God, in my head they're so cute; Jim and his army of dark hued, fall ready sweaters and her in these perfectly curated outfits and clean cut make up.

He's probably so in awe of her (and she of him)- I can't

And that bit about Yvonne- ma'am is so lowkey territorial but its not like she (Yvonne) even has a chance cause Jim is smitten. LOVE that she's jealous.

I need it too cause my gosh it is absolute and utter perfect.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Valentines Day Shana!! 💕💕 Sybok and Jim contiuation? I wanna see more of Sybok teasing the shit out of Spock for his oblivious crush

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

It's rude to speak in a language not everyone present speaks, however Sybok became immune to social niceties around the time his father stopped bringing him to official functions. He switches to High Vulcan to say, "We can tell her I picked you up off an Orion slave ship."

Uhura's right eye twitches.

"She can understand you," Jimmy says. "She's a xenolinguist."

Bones's eyes narrow. He's so much more indignant in person than in the background of Jimmy's video calls. "What are you going on about now? I hate when you do this. I always feel like you're planning how to dispose of my body."

Jimmy had told him that Bones had started studying Vulcan. He'd also told him that he was incredibly bad at it, but not everyone can be Jimmy, which was realistically probably for the best.

He drops down to standard Vulcan to say, "Ah, so you have a talented tongue," since there's really no way to say that in High Vulcan that's a double entendre. It doesn't help that most of their potentially risque phrases are hand rather than mouth oriented, but he's learned to make do.

Spock turns an unhealthy shade of pale as his eyes widen the tiniest amount in abject horror.

Uhura raises her eyebrow in a way that reminds him of his brother. "To master a language is the study of a lifetime. I would be most appreciative if you were to give me a hand in achieving this endeavor."

Spock's skin flushes and he looks around like he's seriously considering running away from this conversation.

Sybok is delighted.

"Uhurua!" Jimmy shouts, hands on his hips. "Come on! I say that to you and you don't even let me buy you a drink, but you'll just proposition Sybok in the middle of the hallway?"

"She did what?" Bones hisses.

That is one possible interpretation of her words.

"I might have gotten around to propositioning you too," she says, "if you hadn't gotten your ass beat."

"Okay, I think I did okay, actually," Jimmy argues while Bones's face morphs into an expression eerily similar to Spock's.

He loves Earth.

[arttsuka]

ooohh you wanna draw kirk/spock cuddling so bad ooohhh

You're right, I do want to draw them cuddling

[dustykneed]

Picture this; Bones holding Joanna, rocking her to sleep and the part in Beautiful Boy where it’s like “The monster's gone, He's on the run, And your daddy's here” is playing. :,)

Fatherhood gives you certain... skills. Coincidentally, this is also how Jim finds out that Bones sings.

:'))

[weird-an]

holy fuck i need more jim adopting billy fluff gdkdbdksbdksbkdbdks its so good and healing 😭

Billy Hargrove is the new bad boy in town - speeding, drunk driving, getting into fights, he has done it all.

Or so, Jim thought, but now he'd been called to the supermarket, because now the kid is also a thief.

He has braced himself for a smug little shit, trying to get away with whatever fancy stuff he can grab. But he comes face to face with a silent Billy, chewing on his bloody lip.

"What is it?" Jim sighs, waiting to the shop's manager, to start his rant, because the guy looks like he's got a whole speech prepared.

"He stole toast!" A crushed plastic bag gets waved in Jim's face. "He's also the one that always hangs out in the parking lot, even at night. And just look at him, with his hair and all - he's not right."

Billy's fingers twitch, but he doesn't say anything.

Jim stares at the bread crumbs in the plastic wrapping. It's the cheapest brand. Something doesn't sit right with him.

Billy stays silent, but he meets Jim's eyes. He seems tired. Like he hasn't been sleeping much.

He knows the type. Angry kids with nowhere to go. They deserve a chance. He knows, because he's lives with El and he loves how she learns to love the world, even though she had mostly lived through bitterness and pain.

"How much?" Jim asks, before he thinks too hard about it. "For the toast?"

"You should arrest him," the guy barks.

"You should shut up," Jim tells him and gives him a few dollar bills. It's too much, but he wants to fucking leave.

"C'mon, Hargrove," he says, grabbing the toast.

Billy follows him, shoulders tense and eyes wide. Jim leads him to the station wagon.

"Get in."

"Another night in the drunk tank, Chief?" Billy drawls, but his voice is unsure. He seems to consider his options, but gets in.

Jim shakes his head. "No, your sentence is overcooked macaroni and a shitty couch."

Billy squints at him.

"How many nights have you slept in your car?" Jim asks.

"I'm not a charity project," Billy snaps - which probably means more than one night.

"No, you're an asshole," Jim says. "But you're a kid and you deserve a place to go to."

"I don't want to go anywhere." Billy stares out of the window.

"That's not true." Jim turns on the engine. "You just don't wanna be here."

He's been there. It's awful, the feeling, like getting lost in a maze and not finding the exit.

Silence stretches between them.

"I wanna go home," Billy mumbles. Jim knows he doesn't mean Cherry Lane.

"Maybe I can help you with that," Jim offers carefully.

"Why would you?" Billy asks, each word dripping disbelief.

"Because you give me way too much work and I'm a lazy fuck." It's a little true. Billy doesn't seem to believe in chances, but Jim will take his.

Billy groans. "I hate this town. Who overcooks macaroni?"

"Careful, kiddo." Jim hopes he can help Billy find a way home.

[love-toxin]

Okay but miscommunication trope is only super yummy when there’s a happy ending. Liiiike reader thinking they’re getting kicked out of their relationship in the fruity four, they’re not wanted anymore, maybe even bring replaced (ie with someone like Chrissy), and so every little sarcastic quip or ignoring is seen by them as the others not loving them anymore 🥺. Until one day it all comes crumbling down and I can’t decide with is more angsty, you breaking down telling the others they don’t love you anymore, or you trying to be brave by announcing you’re leaving and the fours hearts just dropping as they try to scramble to convince you to stay and why?! Why are you leaving!?!?! Please! But of course, happy ending when everything’s properly explained and angel is reassured they could never all fall out of love with them ❤️

oh.......miscommunication trope, you say? >:)

(cws: fruity four, gn!angelface, jealousy, post-s4, PTSD, huge miscommunication trope, domestic arguing, you have a tattoo + kinda shitty parents + bad home life, chrissy's a jealousy target, breakups, jopper appearance, you're childhood friends with jonathan, mentions of grief, an almost car crash, very mild head trauma, crying, angst with a happy ending--stick with me angels!)

Sometimes you wish Chrissy would just disappear. Just--poof--and she'd be gone.

It's awful of you to think, but you can't help it. She's just always around, ever since her breakup with Jason she's been by the house much more frequently. You were happy for her at first, because you liked her up until then, and she's always been nice to you. Plus, your partners saved her life back when all that crazy stuff with the Upside Down happened, an event you weren't privy to until after the fact, when you started dating them.

But she's always on Eddie, always chatting him up, always giggling at his attempts to cheer her up, and now she's attracted the attention of your other partners too. They're good friends, and that's good, but....why can you not shake this feeling that there's something more going on? That the arm touches over his jacket and the inside jokes aren't as friendly and harmless as they want you to think?

It's worse than that, though. The honeymoon phase is clearly over--cause all four of them just brush off your concerns, insisting that you're overreacting or just not addressing them at all. So you haven't been piping up when a joke hurts your feelings, and you've bitten your tongue when one of them has to reschedule something you've planned, and it's gotten to the point that they've wondered why you're so quiet all of a sudden. Why would they care? You think with a sour feeling in the back of your throat, rubbing the tattoo on your arm that Eddie gave you and wondering if that was just practice for someone else. You're not oblivious to the way Chrissy is slowly being invited into gatherings and dinners with everyone.....just like you were in the beginning. And after an especially heated fight with both Eddie and Robin, the worst one you've ever gotten into in your entire relationship, he got so pissed off that he just told you not to come to the dinner they had planned, and they'd take someone who actually wanted to go.

That was a couple days ago, and the air in the house has been strained for nobody else but you. You're equally as hurt by Eddie yelling at you as Robin silently going along with it, even though you slammed your bedroom door in her face when she tried to follow you, and waited until Eddie tugged her along to leave before you allowed yourself to cry. You're sick of the feeling that none of them really care for you, that you've been demoted to a piece of furniture in the house, because they've clearly lost interest. And they don't care when your things start disappearing from the house, when the clothes in your closet start dwindling, leaving behind nothing but the ones they've bought for you--no, they'd rather moon over Chrissy fucking Cunningham, and you've just taken all you think your heart can handle.

"I'm going out!" You call into the house from the front door, without any of their four voices responding. When you sigh, turn, and step out to turn the corner of the house, though, you bump right into one of them.

"Oh! Hey, baby." Steve steps back and readjusts the paper bag full of groceries he's got his arm around, keys halfway tucked into his pocket. "Where you off to?"

"Um....just, uh, gonna go visit my parents." You weren't really expecting him to pry, with how in your head you've been lately. But you're not gonna relent just cause one of the people who promised he'd love you forever, yet somehow can't be fucked enough to find the time to even watch a movie with you, asked you a question that remotely shows an ounce of concern.

"Your parents?" He blinks, shifting again to rest the bag on his hip. "You sure?"

That tone is so irritating. You used to love that almost parental sense of duty, the desire of his to know every detail of every problem so he can solve it. But now, you just feel suffocated, even though you're more distant from all of them now than you've ever been. "What, I'm not allowed to see my family?"

"Hey, that's not what I said! hold on," He moves to put the groceries inside, but you wave him off and start walking past him, your tone clearly frustrated as you encourage him to just forget it. But, in a tizzy, Steve hurriedly sets the bag down on the ground and runs to catch up with you, his hand descending on your arm only to be swatted away--but not for long, when he grabs it again and grips it tighter as he turns you to face him. "Jesus, wait! What's the big fuss? Did I do something?"

"Let me go, Steve." You refuse to look him in the eyes, but you can't break his grip. Why can't he just let it go, so it's less painful? "I don't wanna drag this out."

"Drag what out?" Finally, it dawns on him as his eyes dart from the keys clenched in your hand to the windows of your car parked in the driveway, boxes clearly piled up in the trunk and in the backseat that none of them seemed to notice you moving.

".....So that's it? You're breaking up with us?" Steve says it with disbelief, like he's expecting you to say something or anything different. It's almost a little satisfying when you respond in the way he never could have expected, even though he should've by now. Even though it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it comes up.

"You know what? Yes. That's exactly it." You finally wrench your arm out of his grip, and each of those words sting as they come out, but you won't cry, you refuse to cry in front of Steve today. "I'm leaving tonight, and I'm never coming back to Hawkins again."

"Why?"

"Ask your new girlfriend."

"Who? Wait--Chrissy?" He shakes his head, and what comes out next is more cruel than you wanted to be--but he just won't get it, it won't happen unless you make them realize why they don't want you anymore.

"Wow, the jock has a brain! Well done, Stevie." He grimaces at once, and god, you wish it would all stuff itself back into your throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being such a-"

"I know you're in love with her, Steve! For fuck's sakes, I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" You shout into the broken silence of the front lawn, wishing from the deepest reaches of your heart that this could all just be a horrible nightmare. Not reality. You don't want to be facing those big, soft eyes of Steve staring back at you in shock and pain, so you just turn your head and hope he doesn't see how much you're shaking.

"I get it, okay?! She's prettier than me, and nicer, and she doesn't have my fucking issues--and you guys clearly like her. It's like I don't even exist when she's around." You move aside to gesture towards your car, keys clutched in your hand so they won't fall or get taken from you, because you know Steve is reckless when he's upset. "None of you even noticed I was packing. Nancy fucking helped me put a box in yesterday."

Just then, both your heads turn at the sound of a car approaching--and just in time, you realize it's Eddie, his van's tires crunching the gravel of the long driveway as he pulls up to a stop beside your car. And lo and behold, sitting in the front seat with a smile on her face is her. Chrissy waves to you through the window, and as if your heart isn't in the process of shattering into shards that dig into your lungs, you raise your hand to acknowledge her back. You turn back to look at Steve one last time. Memorizing his face, because you know you won't ever see him again, as you take a few steps backward and hand him your parting words.

"Don't break her heart, Steve. It sucks."

With that, and with nothing but confliction reflecting back at you on his face, you turn on your heels and make your way around your car, bidding Eddie and Chrissy a stiff goodbye as they get out of the van and you get into your car. You reverse, roll back out of the driveway, and shift gears to start puttering down the road. And as soon as the house is out of your rearview mirror, that's when you feel those tears spilling out that won't stop until well after you pass the Leaving Hawkins sign on the side of the road.

A week into your new start in the city, you haven't gotten any more closure than when you left.

Living with your aunt isn't great, but it's something. The apartment is small, and you still haven't found a new job--you did call the Palace to inform them that you were quitting, though, to which you were greeted with nothing but indifference as you left a message on the answering machine. Figures that nobody in that town would miss me, you think, but you can't dwell on it for too long, because then you'll start thinking of them and it'll have you sobbing into your pillow again. Even worse is that you can't even fully express your pain to your family, your aunt, anybody--because they'll all think you're a freak, and it won't be surprising that your "relationship" ended so badly. You don't even really speak to your parents or your family in the first place, so you can't expect them to show you any sympathy. In fact, if they said anything to you, it would probably be that you should be glad it's over so you can live a normal life.

You don't want normal. You want your Robin talking your ear off about something gross for hours, you want Eddie burping into your ear and laughing, you want Nancy falling asleep on top of you and drooling on your chest, and Steve--you want Steve to come over while you're both on your breaks, talking with his mouth full and stealing bits of your lunch while kissing you in between each bite. You want that love back, you want it so badly it hurts, it hurts your heart every time something reminds you of them.

Maybe that's the worst part. That they don't want that anymore, they want someone that can share those memories with of that terrible tragedy, who knows how they feel and relates to those nightmares that wake them up in a cold sweat, who they can compare scars with and laugh with now that it's all over. They want someone scarred but beautiful, someone perfect, and you can never be that way no matter how hard you try. It explains why you haven't gotten a single phone call, or a letter, or anything since you left, and that treatment extends into your second week in Indy and right into the third. But it doesn't get any less painful, even when you get a job at a convenience store around the corner to busy yourself and help with the rent. Nor when you try going on a date or two, just to spend the whole dinner staring off into space as they talk and wondering what the people you loved are doing right now.

While you're behind the counter at work, your thoughts often drift back to that house by Maple Drive. The path around the back that leads into the woods, where Eddie would take you out for a smoke and to watch the stars for awhile--always with a walkie on hand, just in case, as Steve used to say. The pool that often sits empty, and sometimes you'd look out the window to see Nancy lifting up the cover on it to peek underneath, before breathing a visible sigh of relief and briskly walking away. Sometimes even in the middle of the night, creeping out the sliding glass door in her pajamas. And you remember that bed you often shared with Robin, who gets so clingy when she sleeps....and you wonder if she's sharing it with Chrissy now, if the cheerleader you always thought was such a nice girl is occupying the spot you thought would be yours forever.

Your brow furrows as you stock Camels on the shelf behind the counter, sliding each one into the perfect spot but feeling an itch of irritation when they don't line up. Is Eddie holding her right now? Is he coming up behind her every morning, and nuzzling his nose into her cheek as she stirs milk into her coffee? Is Nancy cuddling her and chatting her up about whatever project she has going on right now? Is Steve picking up her bag, and insisting she let her boyfriend hold the heavy stuff while she sits and looks pretty? They probably are. And they're probably much happier doing it with her, than they ever were with you.

Something thuds on the counter behind you, and you sigh without a sound as the gruff voice at your back asks for a pack while you're at it. Your fist squeezes around the box you've got in hand, and when you turn on your heels to toss it on to the tabletop and reach for the scanner, your eyes widen, and so do the ones on the moustached man that's towering in front of you with a petite woman at his side.

"Hop?"

You breathe out the name, trying to regain yourself as quick as you can--you're pretty used to keeping your tears back now, adjusted to having a straight face so nobody will pry or prod for your feelings. The former sheriff of your hometown that you used to duck out of sight from, laughing and hiding your goods with Eddie right behind you, is standing at your counter with a shocked expression, along with Joyce Byers who seems just as surprised to see you here. And with little else you can think of, you clear your throat and try to crack that tense silence.

"Uh...so, you two on vacation, or someth-"

"Are you fucking with me?"

Hopper cuts you off, hands bracing the edge of the counter as he looks you up and down, the two glass bottles of Coke getting shoved aside by him to fall over and roll across the counter as he reaches across the barrier to grab your arm. Without much struggle, because you have no clue what's going on, you allow the older man to yank your wrist up and turn it over, Joyce hurriedly pushing up your sleeve with her gaze pinned to your skin, like she's desperately searching for something that has nothing to do with your confused questions spilling out on top of each other.

When they've finally uncovered that patch of skin they were looking for, the two of them share a look between themselves, before finally looking back up to acknowledge how baffled and worried you are. It isn't until you scan down to see what they found that the pieces start coming together, the black ink of the tattoo Eddie gave you when you first started dating peeking out at you. It's just a thin, mid-sized black circle on your inner forearm, with five points reaching outward like a sun. But the detail of it has always enchanted you, Eddie's diligent stare as he inked it into your skin burned into your mind. You've considered getting it covered since then, but....you can't bring yourself to do it yet.

"I'll call it in," Hopper says cryptically, stepping back and turning away to bring out the walkie from his belt and start mumbling into it. In the meanwhile, you're left with his partner, and the lady you've practically grown up with since she babysat you a long time ago. You often forget that time, when you and Jonathan would run around her backyard with sticks and rocks to try and build your own castle, while his baby brother watched from the stairs and giggled at your antics. You were so young, and so carefree, it seemed....but it was a happy time, one of few before you met those four.

"Honey, you're alright?" Joyce's voice quivers, anxious for the answer, but you nod as soon as her question registers because you hate to see her like this.

"Ye...Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She circles round the counter, coming right in for a hug that you return without question. The squeeze is tight, like a mother's embrace upon returning home from a long time away, and you instantly feel a pinch of guilt for neglecting to include her in your plan to leave Hawkins. Now that you think about it, you really didn't tell anyone, except....

"-Kid, relax, we're coming there. No, do not get in your car, sit your ass down so you're there when we get back! Jesus," Hop gets more animated as he talks over the channel, and your hug splits as your head swivels towards the sound of a familiar voice through the static. Steve.

"Are they there? Let me talk to them! Please, Hopper, let me hear their voice-"

It's so frantic, desperate. The first time you've heard one of their voices in what feels like your whole life, and you have to struggle not to cave, bringing a shaky hand up over your mouth as you whisper a "What's going on?" to Joyce. And with your ears perked up, you can distinguish the background noise in the transmission--there are three other distinct voices, talking just as fearfully amongst themselves as they also try to get through to Hop. Nancy, Eddie, and Robin, each with as much indignation as Steve, who must be holding the other walkie.

"We're coming down right now, kid. Just try to calm down in the meantime." With that, Hopper shuts the antenna and gestures for you to follow him, the sweet woman at your side holding your arm as you obey him, like she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. You're led out of the light of the fluorescent bulbs overhead to Hop's truck parked by the curb--you at least have the sense to fumble with your keys and lock the front door before you leave--you let him open the door and sit yourself in the backseat, and shakily buckle yourself in as they get in front with promises to explain everything. Still struck dumb with shock to the point that it hasn't really registered that you just left work in the middle of your shift.

But you get an idea of what's happening when you turn your head, and catch a glimpse of a scattered stack of papers on the seat beside you out of your peripheral. Tentatively, as Hop starts up the ignition, your fingers brush over one of the nearest pages--and when you lift it up to survey it closer, the two of them notice you and share another sobering look between them. What's staring back at you is undeniably, unmistakably, a missing person's ad. And the picture is one you recognize immediately, because it's yours. Your photo, details of your last sighting, a description of your tattoo, a list of things for people to look out for....

"You really worried everyone back home, kid."

Suddenly, a bitterness rises up inside you, and the paper crumples slightly as you realize what's really happening. "I'm fine. I just...decided to get out of Hawkins."

"Yeah, well, maybe tell your roommates that, first."

"Hop-"

"They didn't care! I told Steve anyways, so what's the big fucking deal?" Even though Joyce flinches at you raising your voice, you can't be quiet right now. Anger is something you've been almost too numb to endure these last few weeks, but now you could just put your fist straight through Hopper's window--they put up such a fuss for what? To drag you back to that shitty inbred town in the sticks, just to make sure they didn't want you in the first place? It's bullshit.

"They sure as shit care!" Hop shouts right back, casting his signature scowl over his shoulder as he drives through semi-empty streets. It's so late, and so dark, it's unlikely there'll even be many pedestrians. "Do you realize how many times Nancy Wheeler has shown up on my doorstep, begging me to go on another search and rescue for you?! They're worried sick!"

"Why?"

There's silence for awhile, very tense silence, before you repeat your question that says much more than just that one word.

"....Because they thought you were gone. They thought you were there."

There. That's what he means--the other world, the Upside Down. The place you've never seen, only heard horror stories about and snatches of descriptions of when you comforted one of them during a night terror. The missing people, the murders, the experiments....they're all so hard to believe, but then again, you can't deny Will's remarkable return from the dead or Barbara Holland's coverup death, both of which you've been close enough to to know that there's no way they're just elaborate lies.

So they were worried you had died. That your disappearance wasn't of your own volition. They're going to be in for an unfortunate surprise, but by the tightly shut locks on Hopper's truck doors, you know there's no getting out of this until he brings you right back to drop you in their laps.

"We came here to look for you. Your mom finally told us you had an aunt in the city." Joyce offers you another piece to the puzzle, but your mind is still stuck on the fact that your ex-partners seemed so desperate over the walkie. They....they wouldn't want you to die, but that doesn't mean they want you. Figures that your parents would make it more difficult for two of the only people that even remotely have any concern for you too, they're probably profiting off all that glorious attention of having a missing child.

"I have a life here, now. I don't want to go back." Lies. You know it's all lies.

"Listen, kid, whatever happened with your friends, I promise it's not worth throwing in the towel. You've gotta see things through." Clearly it's not worth an argument, you'd rather save your energy at this point. You're gonna need plenty to face that hard conversation you know is coming, when you're gonna have to confirm to them directly that you're moving on. No more running away, or hiding from the problem. You have to face it.

"You don't know anything about me, or them."

The already long drive drags on even longer in the silence that follows, and you make a mental note to call your aunt when they get you back to Hawkins, so she doesn't freak out when she comes home to an empty apartment. You can imagine your manager's gonna call and cuss you out before firing you for leaving the store unattended, too, and you groan and let your head hit the seat behind you. Now you're gonna have to find another job, gonna have to explain to your aunt what you did....or maybe she won't even notice your absence, not until someone makes a fuss about it.

Your mind is left racing with so many thoughts and worries that the scenery passes by without note, the moon barely shining any light on the landscape, like it's all one huge plain with little dots for buildings and trees. Like one big hellscape, but it's numb and frozen over with nothing left but a mocking echo of the world that's no longer here. You don't even really recognize your surroundings until a couple hours have passed, and the Welcome To Hawkins sign zips by and has you sitting up in your seat. Just as you pass it, though, you think you see the glimmer of another set of headlights, a rarity on these quiet streets--and then your whole world shifts violently.

"Shit!" Hop curses as he swerves suddenly, and Joyce shrieks as you all nearly careen off the road and into the ditch, your head cracking against the window and bouncing off for you to clutch at it in pain. A groan is all you can get out when he calls back to you, the dizzy feeling making you a little sick, but as you lift your head and the truck rolls to a stop, you spot the culprit of that downright suicidal speed driving that nearly caused a head-on collision.

Your heart is pierced with a deep chill immediately. You'd recognize that van anywhere, and that curly mane of hair as the driver stumbles out his door even moreso. He's not hurt, just dazed--and for the moment, your brain doesn't immediately go to the question of why you should even care. As he stands there in the road, in the dark, Eddie's form is lit up by the headlights still shining without a flicker, but he doesn't flinch even when it must be glaring directly into his eyes, just holds a hand up to block it out. And when they meet yours as you lean over the console to see him, he doesn't wait a second, hurrying around the passenger's side of the truck to fumble for the handle of your door. With a click, and the light above you switching on as a beeping starts to emit from the vehicle, Eddie's suddenly cramming himself into the backseat with you--and there's tears already wetting his cheeks as he grabs you in a hug, gasping in a shaky lungful of breath like he's shocked he's really touching you. Crying and mumbling into your hair, Eddie buckles when you squeeze him back, falling victim to that desire in the deepest part of your soul that just wanted to hold him again.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it baby, I didn't--everything I said, I swear, I was being such a fucking moron-" He starts babbling from nowhere, and his voice itself is a comfort, having not heard it next to your ear for so long that it aches now.

"Eddie-"

"You're mine, okay?! You're my everything!" He cries, burying his face even deeper into your neck and inhaling whatever scent he can get. You're stunned into staying limp, letting his hands grab and squeeze at you wherever they land--his curly hair tickles your cheek and sticks to it, and that sensation alone drags tears up to the surface, only allowing them to spill when you hear him whispering those croaked pleas of "I love you, I love you, I love you" until you're crying right along with him. It's been so long since you heard it, you'd started believing it was never really true.

It takes minutes that feel like hours for you to both calm down enough to look at each other, your face cradled in Eddie's rough hands as he sniffles and murmurs a "You're so beautiful" so innocently sincere, that it instantly makes you wish you had never left. He smiles, and the world that seems so dark grows a little brighter around you. You're not even privy to the looks Joyce and Hopper are giving each other in the front seat, clearly a little surprised at the passion you two share that nobody else has ever seen. But they know. And when Eddie starts pulling you out of your seat with the promise to take you back, Hop only reminds him to drive safely before he allows you two to shut the truck's door and circle round the vehicle with Eddie's arm clinging to your waist. The air hits you, cool and dry, just like it always is in Hawkins. And when he opens your door for you and waits for you to clamber in, before getting in on the other side and fumbling contently with his keys, you're not sure you really know what to expect. He briefly elaborates that he'd gotten worried, and that he's just glad he spotted Hop's truck before he'd sped all the way out of Hawkins and missed you--but it doesn't last, because soon he's grabbing your thigh and sighing out a breath of relief.

"We'll talk about everything when we get home. For now, I just want to hold you." Eddie offers his hand to you, giving it a grateful squeeze when you slip yours into it and interlace your fingers together.

They'll all hate me for real, this time.

That's exactly how the drive goes, Eddie's shoulders relaxed even as he steers with one hand, and navigates while stealing glances over at you with relief written all over his face, and brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles every so often. But he's just one. The other three....your heart sinks as you run over that last conversation you had with Steve, the way you'd ignored Robin completely, and how you pretended everything was absolutely fine with Nancy up until the moment you left. And it somehow dawns on you only then--they thought you were gone, that you had been taken to the Upside Down, and your heart sinks as you watch the trees pass by in clusters while that dread creeps closer down the road that's so familiar.

Not even the comforting warmth of Eddie's hand could drive that thought out of your mind, even less so when he turns and you hit that patch of gravel that leads up the driveway. He'll stop soon, and you'll be facing the music....and when Eddie shifts into park, you sort of float from your seat to the walkway where you threw your feelings back into Steve's face, and up towards the front door that Eddie opens for you before you cross the threshold into the house. It does feel like home, and you don't want to lose it right on the welcome mat, so you blink away any tears that threaten to spill before you quietly follow him into the living room.

Three heads turn to look your way, too inundated in conversation around the coffee table to hear the door opening, but that stops the second their eyes land on you. Steve and Robin are the ones sitting closest to where you stand, but Nancy's the one that makes her way to you first, her lower lip already quivering enough to break into a sob as she crosses the patch of carpet to throw her arms around you. She's strong enough to grip you tight enough to hurt, but too weak to keep herself on her feet, and you end up sinking to the floor with her as your name floods out of her lungs on repeat, getting louder and louder and louder until she's wailing. You could swear the walls rattle with the volume she cries at, completely coming apart in your arms like you've never seen her do before.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She shouts, yet her voice is like a child's, wobbling and whiny and so miserably pitiful that it pains you even to listen to it, especially when she's clutching you so close to her body--so afraid that you won't be there when she pulls away, so she refuses to. You don't have any right to cry when she's so distraught, but with your head over her shoulder, the other two watch your lips curve downwards and your eyes screw shut into a flood of tears that won't stop easily.

"I'm sorry, Nancy. I'm okay." You whimper, burying your face into her curls until your lips brush her jawline, and she shudders into each gentle, praiseworthy kiss that you press there. Up until her sobs subside, and she breaths a sigh of relief that you can feel from her chest against yours, each one sinking and rising into each other as you breathe along with her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore."

She shakes her head, and finally pulls herself back to look at you, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks when she gets a good look at you. Nancy touches your face, thumbs away your own tears--and you know she's not just looking at you, but the girl she lost so long ago, whose smile she sees in yours on those days she misses her the most dearly. "I never wanted you more when I thought you weren't coming back," She whispers back. "How could I not want you? I love you."

The kiss she lays upon your lips is breathtaking, shaking and sweet and just....everything. Everything you missed and craved like air and water and life.

You're already halfway into her embrace when she laughs out that half-hearted joke, walking back with you a couple steps when you throw yourself into it. And she squeezes you so tight, so hard, the kisses a flurry of needy, fluttering touches all over your face until she somehow finds your lips--and when she does, she makes that last one a kiss you won't shake off for days, the feeling tingling your lips even when she pulls away. Still rubbing that spot on your back that she knows is sensitive, Robin grips you in an even harder hug that nearly cracks your spine, and whispers into your ear: "I'm so happy you're here with me." before she kisses you one last time, last one, she swears, fingers crossed behind your back. But then, she takes notice to the man standing just a foot away--and she lets you go to turn you around, her fingertips grazing your arms as you finally face him.

"Yeah, she, uh....she cried, like, every night," Even as Robin says it and breaks the quiet, she herself is rubbing tears from her cheeks, trying to keep that smile going as you stand and Nancy loosens her hold. She moves aside for Eddie to lay his hands on her shoulders from behind, and keep her steady on her feet. "So did Steve. I told you he cries when we watch Princess Bride!"

"I-I....I didn't mean it, Steve. I never...I've never thought you were dumb." Your voice comes out as a whimper, fingers fiddling with each other as you endure that big, brown, wide-eyed stare.

"I know." He breathes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wants to move, he's antsy, but he won't take another step. "I know, baby."

"Can I hug you?" Steve just nods, but his lip quivers and his features gain that pathetic, sad puppy look, because he was hoping and praying you would say those very words. Your heart soars as he meets your step forward and flings his strong arms tight around your body, crushing you with his huge stature but never loosening up. He instantly brings his hand up to cradle your head against his chest, kissing the crown of it with so much firmness that you know he's reaffirming you're really standing in front of him again.

"I shouldn't have let you leave. I should've slashed your damn tires." He chuckles along with you at the lighthearted crack at breaking the tension, until he chokes up again into a sob. "Nobody could ever replace you. And I swear, I'll never break your heart again."

Steve holds you for a long time, squeezing you and kissing you and brushing strands of hair from your eyes to just look at you, surveying the face of the love he feared he'd never get to cherish again. It's a long time coming, and when he's done, there are three other warm bodies in the room that need attention from the sweet thing they've been killing themselves over these last few weeks.

From there, they catch you up with what had happened in your absence. Steve had walked off to clear his head after you left, and hadn't returned until late in the day--burst through the front door during an unusually quiet dinner and sent them all into a panic, when he realized you really had left and you weren't coming back. The four of them had jumped into action to split up and look for you, Nancy contacted your parents and other family while Steve and Robin tried to find some hint of your whereabouts in the house, cracking open your drawers and notes and realizing how much of your stuff was missing. Meanwhile, Eddie had driven in circles round Hawkins and the outer city limits, trying to find any trace of your car in the dark with the help of passing streetlights.

When those attempts had failed after stretching out into the next day to mid-afternoon, and with your very unhelpful parents insisting they had no idea where you could've gone, that's when your partners had started printing out missing person's flyers and put in an official report with the sheriff's office. And, seemingly having forgotten that you were really the only one who ever checked the voicemail at work, your message tendering your resignation had been errantly erased by your manager--worrying them even further when they questioned him, because if you were really planning on moving away like you said, how could you not tell your employer? It wasn't like you. Their fears had only gotten stronger from there.

The worst had yet to come, though. Because when your car had been found on the side of the road way out in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from Hawkins and completely destroyed, the four of them had reached the point of no return. The plates had been torn off, but it was your exact make and model of car, and what were they supposed to believe? That it was just coincidence? That's what Hopper had tried to reassure them with, tried to insist that plenty of cars get found gutted out in the bush, but they couldn't be convinced that it was just some freak happenstance and delude themselves to think that you were fine and dandy somewhere else. The same thing had happened to Max's stepbrother, and they all knew how that had ended.

So started the search parties, the nights spent staying up and studying maps by lamplight, the microwave meals in place of home cooking and sleeping in shifts by the phone, waiting and hoping for some kind of clue to your whereabouts to appear. Finding you had become more important than eating, proper sleep, showering, or attention paid to anything aside from looking towards the horizon to see if you would magically walk back into their lives.

And all that time, you had believed nothing but that they couldn't care less where you were, or what you were doing. When in reality, they could think of nothing but you. That was what had led Eddie to nearly crash into you as you re-entered Hawkins, having been pacing the living room for those long hours after Hop's call until he just couldn't take it anymore--despite the other three trying to stop him, he had dashed out to his van and peeled out of the driveway like a lunatic, just for the slightest chance that he might be there when you needed help. It was so stupid, so reckless, and you'll remember that moment he came rushing around the side of the truck to get to you forever.

Despite them reassuring you about Chrissy, too, when the tears have dried--promising you she's nothing but a friend, and they would have no problems limiting her interaction with all of you from now on--you wave it away, smiling off your stupidity and letting them know that it's fine. You were just being dumb, acting crazy, but you're fine now. And Eddie's eyes narrow at that.

"You're not crazy." He murmurs absentmindedly, and says nothing more until he can slip away from your reunion, and reach the phone in the kitchen. While you're busy dealing with your other partner's crippling absence of affection, he taps his blunt nails into each button, numbly dialing the number he's memorized until the ringing starts and stops.

"Hey, Chris. Angel's back home."

"Oh, that's great! Oh...Eddie, I'm so happy for you. You must be relieved-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, no hard feelings, but....you're my friend, so I'm just gonna be straight. Don't come by the house anymore."

"I--what? Really? I....Eddie, I'm sorry, if I did something to upset you-"

"No, no, nothing you did. Well, not really. But I know how you feel, Chris, and I can't really ignore it anymore." He swallows deeply, and sucks on his teeth as he tries to think of some better way to say it. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel the same. I never have, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like that might change."

"......So that's it?"

"That's it. We can still be friends, but we need space for awhile first, and I'm not gonna ignore you flirting with me anymore. I'm in love and it's not gonna change. Sorry."

"Can we at least talk about it, Eddie? Please? I'd rather talk this out in person."

"No. Bye, Chrissy."

He thuds the phone back on the receiver just a little too hard, and brings his hand up to rub at his neck and try and get the ache out. That didn't feel good, having to confront one of his very few friends with a truth he just wanted to ignore--but the sick feeling he has now can't even compare to how he felt when you were away, and it's an easy decision to make in that regard. He'd take you over her any day. It's a bit of a guilty feeling, but he knows it's the truth even if it hurts Chrissy's feelings, and he's happy even so.

"....Yeah, I missed you real bad, sweetheart. Don't you ever think I wouldn't....or else you are crazy."

"Eddie?" You call out from the living room, and following that sweet voice to its source, he feels himself light up at the sight of you settled back into the couch. Legs tucked up in Robin's lap, halfway into Steve and Nancy's, looking so comfortable and cute as you look up at him. You're where you belong. He's so distracted by the glee and relief of having you home, he didn't even realize how quiet it had been between you all until he came right back from his task. You say nothing more, just hold your arms out to him--and when he gets close enough, you capture him with those pretty eyes of yours, and melt away any ill feeling as you pull him into your chest.

[spirk-my-love]

do you have any tips for drawing Kirk? 🙏 TvT William Shatner’s stupid face is getting every single one of my goats

Ok, so I've never really given drawing tips but! I think one of the hardest things about drawing kirk is his overall face shape. (I am assuming here that we're talking about tos) It is very square as you can see, but the thing is, its also very soft. In many shots he doesn't have a super defined jawline, and in others he does. Also, he also very small eyebrows compared to how most men are portrayed nowadays. He's got hooded eyes so again in various shots they look different depending on how he's holding his face. In some you can see his eyelid, others not so much. I think a lot of people want to draw tos kirk as possibly younger or more defined, but thats not how he looks. He has wrinkles and its part of what really makes his face clearly his.

so here I got rid of the lines of his face, and made it a little less square and a little more sharp. It's still vaguely him but things are clearly missing

Another thing is his hairline. Push that thing farther back than you think it should be. He's got a larger forehead and we love him for it. Obviously the first part is more screen accurate but feel free to play around with your style. I mostly draw realism (unlike my latest piece) so that's where most of this advice is coming from. In my experience his lips stretch out a little longer than what is typical, a little past the middle of his eyes, especially when he's smiling. I will also say, his jaw will always connect pretty high into his ear. Its something I notice in every ref, that connection goes decently high.

He is also very expressive, as we all know, and sometimes that can be a little difficult to capture, this mostly just takes practice and knowing how the face moves.

In conclusion, Id recommend focusing on just the overall shape, and then the lines of his face. Even if the eyes, lips, and nose are a little off, those lines of his face make a huge difference.

I have no idea if this is going to help literally anyone, but hopefully its at least understandable.

[k-wame]

JACOB ELORDI & ZACHARY QUINTO He Went That Way (2023) dir. Jeffrey Darling

[pop-squeak]

would you please bless us with some spirk 🙏

with pleasure :)

[frownyalfred]

Listennnnn, I need some Batfleck headcanons, please. Thank you 🫡

This man is too overhated :/ I still think he was an amazing Bruce (and Batman), and I wish we had seen more of him. Dare I say, Jeremy Irons' Alfred is one of my favorite interpretations ever. Loved him in BvS. Specially scenes with him and Bruce.

Started going grey at 32

He and Alfred jog around the Manor property together for exercise

He’s a functional alcoholic but only in between his cases / big missions. Otherwise he’s 100% sober for peak physical performance.

The kind of Batman who beat up criminals for even looking at Robin, much less making a joke about hurting him.

Darker, grittier and more pessimistic even before he lost Robin. He didn’t trust anyone beyond Alfred, and it took years for him to warm up to Robin (Dick or Jason, depends on if you go off Snyder lol)

Every single inch of property and every cent he owns goes to Alfred immediately upon his death. This is an expectation, not a worse case scenario.

Most of his failsafes are a complex series of satellite uploads and then explosives. Soooooo many explosives under that lake.

Sustains on an insane amount of calories per day (see my protein post)

So big/massive that the Bane matchup in this universe was much more balanced (he didn’t get his back broken but absolutely got beaten up)

On that note: breaking his bones doesn’t stop him, it just makes him more angry (this is a man who pulled a knife out of his own rotator cuff to stab someone with)

GCPD doesn’t just fear him because they’re corrupt, they fear his brand (he has a bad habit of branding cops who betray innocents right in the face)

Once spent ten or so days pit fighting in the Narrows for intel and actually won minor fame as a brawler

Alfred has slapped him awake on more than one occasion so that Bruce can help move himself (he weighs too much for Alfred to even try moving)

Alfred never left him or the lake house because he made a promise to Martha that he would always watch over Bruce

Jim Gordon respects and fears him in equal amounts. He watched what happened after Robin’s death and just shook his head.

The acid burn on his shoulder is from the Joker taunting him for being too pretty after unmasking him and threatening to burn his face off.

[steddieas-shegoes]

for the request :D

i need more eleven and steve with a sibling bond and hopper as steve's adoptive dad pls! steve deserves to have a loving family and steve hopper just hits different yk? plus i love steve and eleven being protective over each other 🤧

tysm !!

UGH I LOVE IT!!!! This is from Hopper's point of view, hope that is okay. It just felt like it needed to be? This was so good to explore. I definitely want to explore Steve and El being overprotective siblings more in the future, even if it's just in the background. I hope you love this! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Hopper was at the door. Again.

This was the third party he busted at the Harrington residence in as many weeks.

Steve just didn’t seem to get the picture that he was watching over him.

See, Jim Hopper was far from an idiot.

He knew that Steve was left alone a lot since the too-young age of 11.

He knew that Steve was popular at school.

He knew that rich, popular kids with empty houses usually threw parties.

And it was kind of like Steve wanted him to break these up at this point.

He wasn’t changing the time, the location, the invitees, anything.

All it took was Hopper driving by the first time, and he was in on it all.

Steve was expected to throw these parties, Hopper was expected to break them up. So it goes.

And if that’s what Steve needed from him to keep up his appearances as a “cool kid”, then he could do that.

“Steve.”

“Chief! You wanna come in?”

Steve was slurring his words, his eyes unable to focus on anything.

He was drunk.

He hadn’t been the last two times Hopper broke up the parties. In fact, he’d been in complete control and sober.

Something was wrong.

Steve throwing a party he shouldn’t be was one thing. Steve being wasted at said party was another entirely.

“Uh no. I’d like everyone to leave though.”

“I can’t! This is my house,” Steve giggled.

God, he didn’t get paid enough for this.

“Alright. I’m gonna get everyone out of here. You go shut off the music and drink some water.”

“But then I have to think about stuff.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

He was well aware of how neglected Steve was for most of his life. His parents threw money at nannies that barely did their job, and then threw money at Steve like that was the equivalent of love.

The only person who showed him love was Nancy.

“Where’s Nancy?”

“Oh she broke up with me. Said I was bullshit and we were bullshit and then she left with Jonathan because he’s not bullshit.”

That was. A lot to unpack. He didn’t have time though.

“Steve. I need you to focus okay? I need you to shut the music off so I can tell everyone to go. Then you need to go to your kitchen and drink at least a full glass of water. Make sense?”

“Sure thing, Chief!”

He stumbled away, possibly in the wrong direction, but Hopper didn’t really care so long as he got this shut down.

As he walked through the living room and dining area, he told kids they had five minutes to be gone or he was calling their parents.

They scattered quickly; They knew he wasn’t messing around.

He did the same with the kids on the stairs, the kids in the hall, and the kids in the kitchen.

Finally, the music shut off and more kids came running downstairs. When they spotted Hopper, they kept scampering right out the front door.

He figured the rest were probably in bedrooms or hiding in the backyard, and he needed to check on Steve again first.

Steve was standing at the back door, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

“Steve?”

“Just need a minute.”

“Okay, kid.”

Hopper took the chance to open the back door and yell to everyone that if they weren’t off the property in two minutes, he was arresting them all for trespassing.

It wouldn’t hold up, not with how many of these kids had parents with money for good lawyers, but it scared them.

He walked around the house, checking each room to ensure it was empty.

By the time he got back to Steve, he was passed out on the couch.

Hopper made sure he was on his side, blanket covering him, and a glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.

As he did the bare minimum to make sure Steve stayed alive, he had to wonder when the last time someone actually took care of Steve was.

————-

Steve started coming around to pick up and drop off El.

He was the designated soccer mom apparently, always bringing the kids where they needed to go: the arcade, the mall, the movies, the park.

He seemed to do it every day, no complaints.

El loved Steve.

She came home with a skip in her step, a smile on her face.

If he asked her how everyone was, her first response was always “Steve’s great.”

He’d be worried about it being a crush if she wasn’t stupidly in love with Mike. He’d almost prefer Steve.

But El just latched onto Steve in a different way. Like he was a protective older brother who made stupid jokes to make her laugh, but also argued with her over the radio.

Hopper was still worried about Steve. He graduated, but he was starting a summer job soon. A job that would leave him unavailable most days.

Hopper wasn’t a fan of this, and if he were rich, he probably would have offered Steve money to just be the kids’ chauffeur all day every day.

Within a week of his new job, El was barely leaving the house.

Hopper offered to drive her places before his shifts and she refused.

She didn’t even want to visit Steve at work.

Hopper didn’t mind paying him a visit, though.

“Hey, Hop. Everything okay?” Steve greeted.

“Just fine. You?”

“Any day in this uniform is another day I lose dignity, so.”

Hopper hid a smile.

The kid was funny, even if he didn’t mean to be.

“Got a favor to ask. El’s been pretty bummed about you starting this job and not spending much time with her and the others. Think you could take them somewhere your next day off? I could give you gas money.”

“Oh! Yeah. I don’t need gas money, though. The fair’s in town in two weeks, so I figured I’d take them all.”

“Great! Uh,” he cleared his throat, worried he seemed too excited. “I’ll tell El.”

“Awesome.”

But if Hopper knew what the fair had in store for all of them, he would have made them all stay home. He would’ve stayed home.

—————

After Vecna, Hopper had a lot of clean up to do.

He knew he left a mess, but he had no idea how much that mess exploded while he was gone.

El would barely leave his side. She sometimes sat at Max’s bedside in the hospital, but only if Steve sat with her. Then, she was right back home sticking close to his side.

He was grateful for Steve, truly.

He would show up every other day at the same time, give El a long hug, tease her about something stupid that made her crack a smile, and then bribe her to leave so Hopper could have some time to himself.

You’d think spending so long away would make him want to always be surrounded by the ones he loved, but not quite.

When Steve brought her back, she seemed lighter. Not relaxed, but like she’d been able to experience being a teenager. Just regular things.

Steve told him he brought her to get ice cream sometimes, sometimes they’d just drive around singing to songs on the radio, sometimes they’d walk around the quarry trail and try to find butterflies and birds.

He didn’t care what they did.

He knew she was safe with Steve.

—————-

When Eddie Munson’s name was cleared, they all had a party at Steve’s house.

A party that happened during daylight hours and was mostly children and their parents.

Quite a turn of events for Steve Harrington.

But most importantly, he let El help plan the whole thing.

She needed a distraction since Max was still not awake, and the only person who knew what would help was Steve.

They planned board games, and food, and they cleaned the pool together in case anyone wanted to swim.

“Steve. You are being very silly,” El said with a frown as Steve put a party hat on his own head.

“It’s a party! We’re supposed to be silly,” Steve replied, leaning over to place a party hat on her head.

Hopper watched fondly as El smiled.

“Purple is my favorite color.”

“I know. That’s why I picked it.”

Steve was a good kid. He was a good adopted brother to El.

And Hopper could admit now that he was beyond just seeing Steve as a kid he watched out for the best he could.

Steve was more like a son to him than he probably was to his actual parents, more like a brother to El than even Will or Jonathan were.

He watched as Steve pulled El into a hug and started swaying back and forth, dancing.

El was laughing. Steve was laughing. Light and carefree were words seldom used to describe either of them, but when they were together, Steve and El were like the children they never really got to be.

“Steve, can I talk to you?”

Hopper wasn’t really big on emotions. He felt them, just like everyone did, but he didn’t talk about them.

But Steve needed to hear this, he needed to know that someone loved him and believed he was good.

El smiled and went outside to see if Robin and Nancy needed any help with anything there.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just…” Hopper pulled Steve into a hug.

It was awkward, maybe a little forced at first, but the moment Steve sank into it, Hopper pulled him in tighter.

“I love you, kid. You know that, right? I’ve been takin’ care of you, watchin’ out for you the best I can for years. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time, okay?”

Steve let out a sob against his chest and Hopper felt the telltale burn in his throat that he was not far behind.

“You and El are my kids, you got that? I’m always gonna protect you both. El and I love ya so much.”

“Love you both,” Steve gasped out.

Hopper didn’t let go. He knew Steve needed this. He kind of needed it too.

But El walked in, frown on her face.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

Steve sniffled and tried to wipe his tears away without her noticing that he was crying, which just wasn’t going to work. She was too perceptive.

“I’m fine, El.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No! I’m really fine.”

El glanced at Hopper, his eyes red, but his face trying to remain strong and passive, like Steve had just started crying on him, not that he’d been the one to initiate the hug.

She looked back at Steve, who was starting to pull away from Hopper’s arms.

She quickly ran to them, Hopper’s arms pulling away to wrap around her now as she wrapped her own arms around Steve.

“Steve is our family, too?”

“Yeah, kid. He is.”

“Like my brother?”

“If you want me to be,” Steve said as he turned slightly in their arms.

“Of course. I love you like family.”

“I love you too, El.”

Hopper cleared his throat and pulled away.

“Alright, alright. Party’s starting soon. Guest of honor should be here any minute unless he got himself into trouble.”

“Do not be mean about Eddie. He is a very nice person to me and to Steve.”

Steve was blushing, looking down at the floor.

Uh oh.

Hopper knew that look.

“We’ll talk about that later, Harrington.”

“Yes, sir.”

El giggled and ran out the back door, dragging Steve with her.

Hopper sighed.

What did he get himself into?

[shanastoryteller]

Star Trek please!! Happy Halloween

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Admiral Archer is unwilling to take his rescission at face value and demands a more complete explanation. To Spock's relief, and the gathered students' disappointment, he's willing to hear it in his private office.

Captain Pike slips in behind them, which gets him an irritated scowl but the admiral allows it. Spock is only marginally surprised by this. Admiral Archer and Captain Pike are known to be on good terms and James Kirk had entered the academy on Captain Pike's recommendation.

"Explain," Admiral Archer demands.

Spock hesitates.

Starfleet is of course aware of the events that took place on Tarsus IV and so they must be equally aware of James Kirk's role in it. While Admiral Archer certainly has the clearance to know the particulars, it does not mean that he does, and Spock is loathe to reveal these particulars, even to someone who could find them out himself. Additionally, Captain Pike does not have the necessary clearance, and while he does not think that James Kirk would allow his presence if he did not wish him to know, or had not already told him, Spock cannot be certain and there is no way for him to ask.

"Commander," Admiral Archer snaps. "Is this a joke to you?"

"No, sir," he answers. He doesn't find any of this funny at all.

James Kirk steps up next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. Spock resists the urge to flinch and shoots him a disapproving look. The contact is not skin on skin, but any casual contact is discouraged. James Kirk is very well aware of Vulcan customs.

Then again, his point of contact for Vulcan culture is Sybok. His brother had been significantly more... affectionate after Tarsus IV. Spock wonders if that's something he picked up from his association with James Kirk.

"It's alright," James Kirk says warmly. "Spock, tell Admiral Archer whatever you want him to know."

He doesn't remove his hand. Human's run hot, their physiology not perfectly calibrated to survive in the deep heat of the desert, but even still James Kirk's hand feels unusually warm.

"I was unaware of Cadet Kirk's background with facing impossible odds when I made my accusation," he says. "Having been made aware of it, my perspective has shifted. Cadet Kirk does not allow rules or the constraints of logic prevent him from doing what he believes must be done. This was what he was demonstrating by bypassing and reprogramming my system."

He can feel James Kirk staring at him but he doesn't take his eyes of Admiral Archer.

Admiral Archer frowns. "You didn't know he was on Tarsus IV with your brother?"

That he already knows is a source of relief. The incredulity is less.

"Spock had exams the time I went to Vulcan," James Kirk says. "Sybok loves an excuse to go off-planet, so we usually meet up on Earth. Spock and I have never met before." He turns to him with a grin that Spock is distinctly uncomfortable having aimed in his direction. "I should have known the second I saw you. You look a lot like your mother."

Being compared to one's mother on Vulcan is a high compliment. Or it's supposed to be. Spock's had those same words hurled at him before, but it was with cruelty, as a way to demean him rather than honor the woman who bore him.

James Kirk say the words easily, exactly as they are intended to be spoken.

"You're driving me to drink," Admiral Archer says.

Spock has no idea how to appropriately respond to that.

"What about me? You're driving me to drink," James Kirk says, "which is driving Bones to as of yet unknown heights of nagging. The stress isn't good for him but he keeps threatening me with hypos when I tell him that. Can't I just be concerned for my friend?"

That is not an appropriate response on top of being incomprehensible.

Admiral Archer rubs his forehead. "Chris."

"Sir," Captain Pike returns, grabs the back of James Kirk's jacket, and hauls him out of there like grabbing a wayward kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Spock stands there, unsure, until Admiral Archer glances up and says, "You too, Commander. I'll consider this matter closed."

He nods, "Thank you, Sir," and steps outside to an empty hall. Captain Pike and James Kirk are nowhere to be seen.

Once he returns to his quarters, he video calls his brother.

He doesn't pick up.

Typical.

[arttsuka]

may I request some trek triumvirate (spock, kirk, Bones) as cowboys? :]

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