#this is probably beyond obvious what this is about but

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Ok I have so many thoughts about painland ending up canon or not and I. Just.

Listen I AGREE that their bond goes beyond being romantic or not. It's obvious, it's beautiful, I love it and I love them and their friendship and I truly do think it is important that media has this kind of relationship portrayed.

But.

But.

I would be lying if I said I wouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't turn romantic. It involves a lot of things.

1: I want Edwin to have that. He'll still be happy without it, yes, but god can't he have that? He's been through so much. He had a speedrun through his sexuality issues and confessed in hell. Like wtf. Can't he have that???

2. Bisexual Charles would actually be so important to me. And yeah he can be bi and not in love with Edwin but come on lol. The thing is, there's not many bi men in media. Even less bi men figuring out their bisexuality. Even less bi men figuring out their sexuality when they were raised in the 80s and knowing their best friend is in love. Do you see how many layers exist here? How amazing his story could be? Charles has so much we still don't know about him. And yes, I would like that one of those things could be something I relate to. Besides trauma. Call me selfish. And like he's so bisexual coded it would be offensive for him to be straight I'm sorry.

3. They exist in other universes. Let them be platonic there. Let them be romantic this one time.

4. I know falling in love with a straight person is a very common story and I don't think it's wrong for it to happen in a show, but honestly, it's not what I sign up for when I'm watching queer stuff. Think Our Flag Means Death. It probably changed my brain chemistry because anything less than that gets really hard to swallow. I know, we all have queerbaiting trauma, and I know this wouldn't be the case, and it never claimed to be something as queer as OFMD. But I got so attached that... Well, I wouldn't stop watching if this happens, but it wouldn't sit well with me. It's a bitter feeling, you know?

5. They didn't have anything be explicit, but come on, they did set us up. Charles got jealous at Monty, and only Monty, for that matter. I wouldn't say his thing with the Cat King is necessarily jealousy, more like protectiveness, but that can be disputable. And both George and Jayden said more than once that Charles' response to the confession let things open. So I mean if that door wasn't closed, then please don't close it now! The road until things happen can be long, dramatic, tortuous, whatever, there's many ways to tell a love story. But if I'm sitting for it, then I don't want to get shot in the face later on (unless it's for plot reasons which ok).

6. Have I mentioned that bisexual Charles

Anyway I feel kinda bad for wishing so much they get romantic because I see and agree with the whole platonic discourse. But yeah those are all the reasons why I can't stop myself. Have a good day everyone

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x06

Me on holiday trying to write a costume meta - yeah probably gonna keep this one shortish because - you know - on holiday!!!

We have plenty to get through this episode an dI had zero Idea how to set this one out because its kinda immpossible!

So in the end I just decided to go with the flow and therefore this is probably a bit all over the place in terms of organisation!

Chimney

Ok so Chimney exclusively wears check for this episode, apart from his hospital gown, which I'm not going to talk about as its a hosptial gown!

Chimneys first shirt is a grey and white rectangle gingham we see him in when he is having dinner with the Lee's to remember Kevin.

Grey is a neutral colour and can be linked with feelings of depression and compromise. These are key indicators of what is going on with Chim in this scene - he isn't depressed, but his spirits are clearly depressed (as in mute) and this should be seen as an alarm bell for Chimney - he who is forever optimistic - its all adding to the arc of Chimney not being himself - of something being wrong with him.

His second shirt is this cream with a double blue check pattern - the increased amount of check plays into his encephalitic deterioration - showing he is becoming increasingly confused/delirious etc - the check patterning ins far more obvious and distinctive, unlike the grey gingham from earlier - which kind of blurs out to look more overall grey even if you can still see its a check pattern.

Doug

Not going to dwell on Doug for long, but I do want to mention the fact that they put him in the very same costumes he was wearing in season 2. This triggers visual memories for audience members who have been watching the show from the beginning (or have watched those earlier episodes recently) because even if you don't quite connect the dots on why, you automatically know that this is a hallucination and not reality - the other visuals (such as him being there then not) add to this understanding, but it is the costumes that connect the Doug we're watching here and the Doug from the past.

Maddie

Gonna go in reverse with Maddie's costumes! here we have her in Chims hospital room, wearing a very similar outfit to the one she worse in his hospital room back in season 2 in the aftermath of Doug, the blue is now navy rather than the grey/blue of the earlier one, but that plays into the idea of a deeper relationship - they were just at the begining back in season 2 - the grey played into Maddie providing a soothing and relaxing presence for Chim, while the undetone of blue played into the growing trust and loyalty they shared. Now the navy blue is showing the strength of that trust and loyalty, while also hinting at Maddie feeling in a darkish place - her fear at losing the love of her life.

Maddies wedding dress - it’s a stunning dress and I love that it’s not all white - it’s a mix of white tulle and champagne embroidered lace. The dress having chapagne embroidered lace is really lovely - the golden brownish yellow tones of champagne as a colour in colour theory are emblematic of a driven and powerful personality (which we see displayed very clearly in this episode) as well as of modesty, excitement and fun.

When I first saw it, not going to lie, I had mixed feelings about it - but I think most of my issues with the dress stem from the fact it’s not especially well fitted to Jennifer - not sure if it’s because they rented it rather than buying outright so couldn’t alter it or if there are other factors at play, but that aside it’s a really great dress and very Maddie. 

It makes sense that she would actually choose to go all out for the wedding - to overwrite all the memories of her wedding to Doug - this wedding is the one she wants to remember - the one she’ll look back on in the years to come, so for her to get to pick out a grand dress (especially as she likely didn’t get any choice in her previous dress) 

Beyond that there’s not a lot I can say from a costume and colour perspective - it’s a wedding dress doing wedding dress things!!

Hen

Hen is in a black suit for her role as best woman, its full of Hens personality, whilst being subtle and fitting for a wedding - there really isn't a lot to say about it from a colour perspective, or from a design perspective - its doing everything it need to perfectly (it is also stunning and I would very much like to own it), not making Hen the centre of attention, whilst also ensuring we're aware of her importance within the wedding party.

Then we have Bachelor party Hen, who is definetley rocking more of a 70's vibe in those jeans (which I also love and want please!!) and shirt and Karen is definetely more 90's vibes in the black and gold Chinese suit.

THis is really intentional - we have the context of Chim not being into having a bachelor party (which we know he would've actually loved and enjoyed had his brain not been being eat by a viral infection) and so every one else not being in costume except Eddie and Buck is very much about them feeding off the vibes Chim had been giving - they've made an effort to get dressed up, but they haven't gone with the theming.

Chris

Chirs is wearing a surf shirt - it's by Quicksilver and I've included a better picture of the pattern below, because what you can't see with the filter on the camera is that the little logos on the shirt are in both blue and green. They're all symbols associated with surf and water.

So the water theming around Christopher (and Buck and Eddie) continues and we have the added fact that blue green theory is in play here as well - and it was in play a lot throughout the episode in relation to Buck and Eddie.

Tommy

Only one brief costume to look at for Tommy in this episode and its very much continuing the theming we've seen on him this entire season. We continue to see him in a Henley and jeans. This one is navy blue.

Choices were definitely made when it came to this outfit and the fact he hasn't chosen to dress up in any way - its part of the wider arc at play in this season (for all characters, not just Buck or Eddie - its the seasons theme - which is fitting considering we've moved to a new network and its a way of establishing/re-establishing the characters, their motivations and their interpersonal relationships) that Tommy doesn't know Buck - its not only highlighting the difference between Buck and Eddie and Buck and Tommy, but also calling back to the literal episode titled 'you don't know me' and emphasising that tommy doesn't know Buck and his quirks at this point (this is not Tommy bashing before anyone comes for me - I like Tommy and I wouldn't expect him to know that Buck gets super invested in things in this way at this point I am merely pointing out that the costume is highlighting the newness of their relationship).

Bobby and Athena

Bobby and Athena are exclusively in blue and green this episode - we have the brighter jewel toned blue suit and emerald green dress of the wedding which are switched out for the more muted navy polo and khaki green jacket when the search for Chim gets underway.

The brighter colours are much more hopeful and cheerful - the bright blue of Bobbys suit with the meaning of trust and loyalty it is a supportive shade, meanwhile the green of Athena’s dress symbolises growth and health and luck.

The more muted tones of the search play into their respective roles - Bobby becomes a fire captain just without the logo - it gives him the air of authority, while remaining supportive and dependable. Meanwhile Athena’s khaki green - a very typical shade plays into her position as a police officer - she is prepared to fight to figure out what happened to Chim - it’s an echo of the outfit she wore when investigating Eddie’s shooting back in season 4 - a key parallel considering we get a lot of other costume parallels this episode!

Buck and Eddie

Again we're doing these two back to front, - the above picture shows them during the search for Chim and we have the very loud and obvious green and blue pairing in parallel to Bobby and Athena. its setting them up as a unit.

I am still not over getting Buck in jeans - I probably won't be for a while, so get used to me screaming about them at every opportunity - because they have played a blinder with them - the fact that we get Buck in jeans here, along with his white trainers

The other thing that I love about these two costumes is the way they both play into their respective costume styles. We've only seen Eddie in his army geen colourway once so far this season when he found out Chris was seeing multiple girls, and this is the first Henley we have him in - when he is normally king of the Henleys - this indicates where Eddie is at - ready to go to war for his found family, in the same way Athena is, but also that this is a comfortable state for him.

Bucks bright cobalt blue plays into his blue theme thats been building over the last season and a half - its telling us he's in a good place, more settled (in relation to Tommy not Chim being missing!) and its an indicator of his loyalty and trust, but the main thing about cobalt blue specifically is that its considered a colour of enlightenment - so continues the theme of Bucks bi awakening being about him becoming enlightened!

Buck and Eddie being the only ones to have got dressed up to the 80's theme is all about showing them as a solid unit - they will feed off each others energy regardless of what it is. this is them being best friends best friending and being completely oblivious to everyone else - especially Chim's lack of enthusiasm.

The pink on Eddie plays two fold - it plays into the innocence and naivety theme the costumes are giving us this season - slotting Eddie into that narrative more firmly than just having Marisol wear it in episode 1 - it ensures that theme continues past the intial reveal that she was a novice nun - this is important because it reminds the audience subconsciously about that plotline. I don't expect to see him in any more pink this season, but I have a feeling we might see Marisol in more pink down the line as their arc unfolds.

I am interested to see how it plays into the guilt aspect though - the pink we've seen on other characters in other plots have revolved around feeling guilty - Lola being in pink when her cheating on Norman is revealed, and his innocence in it all as that plot is playing out having him also in pink. It suggests to me that we're going to get something relating to guilt - beyond catholic guilt - sitting pretty heavily in Eddies arc for the rest of the season!

(popping back in to finish this meta and now I'm screaming at myself for not connecting more dots earlier - I was so so close to connecting the mall - so close!!)

So we have buck back in white - a key indicator that things are going to go wrong - mirroring all the other times Buck has worn white and either ended up in the middle of a disaster (tsunami!) or in some kind of trouble. The trouble here is obviously that Chim didn’t turn up for his bachelor party and has gone missing. It’s an indicator of the seriousness of the situation because Buck doesn’t wear white when it’s a trivial thing going wrong.

Then we have his greenish beige double breasted blazer - I have spent so long trying to figure out what colour this jacket is supposed to be and I’ve decided to trend towards beige with a green undertone. Beige is considered a trendy colour and is therefore its meaning suggests forward thinking and fashionable (don’t ask me why I have zero idea!!) the irony of buck being in beige is that it’s also considered the antithesis of intoxicating, The green undertone has the same vibe as the green shirt he wore to donate his sperm - and so there is a similar vibe going on here - that idea that things are going to go very awry, but will untimately end in sucess!

I've included a couple of stills below of Crocket and Tubbs - just so you can see how perfectly the wardrobe team managed to create the vibe of them - as the same time as making both of them both Crocket and Tubbs - because they have elements of each of them in their costumes - which is just genius!!

one final little nod to a fun thing the costume team have done - calling back to Bucks Coma dream costume - when he was a teacher - like his parents - by dressing Margaret in a blue version of the same outfit!!

Sorry this was so late and not as in depth as some of my other meta's - but I got there in the end and I hope you enjoy it!!

Off to write 7x07's meta now!!

Tagged people below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks

@bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine @yramesoruniverse @extasiswings @favouritealias @pop-kam @b-dwolf

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 17: Repair

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 16

March 1986

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

Present Day, April 1987

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

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

He doesn’t know what to do.

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel like it.

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

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

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

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

He walks over to her door, knocking lightly.

“What,” Julie yells through the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever he is at the moment.   

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh boohoo.” Eddie sticks out his tongue.

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

He shrugs. “I’m sick.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, twice,” Robin questions.

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

“Is that something you guys have talked about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was enough, it had to be.

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

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

It is enough.

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

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

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

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

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

Steve is enough. He always was.

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

. . .

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

Just adding on to how Julie is already feeling.

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

Liking girls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Julie, it is me, El.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he sees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without even blinking, he’s still there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Julie was safe in the fort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah it does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s what I’m here for.”

. . .

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

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

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

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

“Nancy speaking.”

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

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

“Yeah probably.”

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

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

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

[wrathofrats]

I keep seeing gods worst fucking takes about a pop culture thing that happened and ALL IM GOING TO SAY

Is that if your support for trans people stop when they do something you decide you don’t like, you’re a bigot and transphobic.

Trans women/men are trans women/men even if they did something cringe. Even if they didn’t grow up as their current gender, they are still what they identify as, idc what anyone says. “Well they didn’t go through XYZ so they’re not a REAL man/woman!” Die !

[catgirljaneway]

(last images sourced from this wonderful post)

Voy + Textposts 11- Special Chakotay being a hater edition!

(Voy + Textposts 11) + (Voy + Textposts 13)

[void-botanist]

Rose's Kiss Week Day 6: Home Alone

OCs: Sierra Callawel and Ian Carlisle (Spinder's oldest sister and her husband)

Words: 1189

Content warnings: none

Notes: Ian's canid form is a common raccoon dog. It is also well-known that shifting to that form makes you itchy.

When Sierra looked up from her computer, she could see the full moon hanging too-large over the faraway trees outside her window.  She’d lost track of time.  Ian would be transformed, now, and she hadn’t seen him at all.  She locked her computer and stood up.  The kids were out, so making a circuit of the house wouldn’t draw them out of their rooms and interrupt the nice night she wanted to spend alone with her husband.

“Ian?” she called as she started up the stairs.  “Where are you?”

She heard a mournful squeaky-toy noise from somewhere down the hall and smiled to herself as she went to find the source of it.  When she flipped on the light in her bedroom, she got a louder and angrier squeak from the bed, where a golden brown and black fluff of a dog was burying his little face under his front paws.

“Sorry,” she said, going to turn on her bedside lamp before turning off the overhead light.  He didn’t raise his head until she sat down on the side of the bed, and then he tried to crawl in her lap immediately.

Laughing, she held him back gently and got fully onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard before she let him snuffle his way into her space.  He seemed content to put his paws across her legs and rest his head on them, but she scooped him up all the way, holding him close against her.  His response was to put his paws on her arm and set his head there instead.  He was probably just tired after transforming, but he always looked so cute and sad in his dog form, and it made her want to hug him tighter.  So she did, pressing her cheek to the top of his fuzzy little head and then kissing him there.  He let out a longer squeak, stretching his neck out further, and as she petted his head she followed his gaze to the brush he’d set out for her.  Oh, of course.  Grabbing it was a bit of a stretch, and she almost dumped him out of her arms accidentally, but once it was in her hand she settled him in her lap and began running it through his fur in long strokes, head to rump.  Instantly he was a dog-shaped puddle in her lap, his only reaction little snuffles of pleasure.  

When she paused to pull out the mat of hair that had collected in the brush, he rolled over onto his back, cradled in her crossed legs.  She scratched behind his ears while she drew the brush along the contours of his ribcage and haunches and arms.  He didn’t even tense as she carefully brought it over his neck and chin.  As soon as she set the brush aside, though, he was getting back out of her lap, jumping down onto the floor with a cacophony of clicking nails and pausing in the doorway to look back at her.  She smiled and followed him back downstairs to the kitchen, where he waited by the table while she got their dinner out of the fridge: sliced chicken, lentils, and a touch of cranberry sauce.  For him, at least.  She could have as much as she wanted.  His was already in a bowl, so once she pried off the lid she set it in front of him on the floor.  He wagged his tail but didn’t move.  While she made her own plate from the main bowls of food, she saw him bend down and sniff his bowl, his eyes never leaving her.  

“You can start without me,” she said.  

He made a sound somewhere between a shriek and a growl and sat straight again. With a laugh she returned the food bowls to the fridge and brought her plate to the table.  

“Blessed be the fruits of the earth, and us among them,” she said, and he squeaked out the same cadence before shoving his face in his bowl.  She ate with half an eye on him inhaling his food, mostly because his enthusiasm was adorable.  

On the way back to bed she carried him up the stairs, letting him jump down on the bed before she got into her pajamas.  He didn’t stay on the bed, though, since she had to go to the bathroom to brush her teeth and he apparently had the energy now to not let her leave his sight.  He brushed against her ankles where she stood in front of the sink, hopped in the bathtub, and started rolling around on the textured treads on the bottom of it.  That was why he was accompanying her.  He’d told her before that there was something sublime about the feeling of the bathtub treads specifically that he really couldn’t explain.  He didn’t feel that way about them in human form.  She didn’t care as long as he didn’t leave his fur in the tub, though she was often the one who cleared it out to take a shower anyway.  But it was worth it to see him being so happy in there.  When she left the bathroom, he followed, and she scooped him back onto the bed.  He curled up right next to her while she read her book for a bit.  After she turned out the light, he yipped along with her presleep prayer, and she gave him a last pet on the head before relaxing into the dark.

At the crack of dawn the sudden weight on the bed woke her.  In the light that sifted around the edges of the curtains she could see Ian, now fully human, getting under the covers.  He turned his back to her—he might not even remember that his transformation always woke her up—but she came over to him anyway, putting a hand on his side as she kissed his shoulder.  When he shifted onto his back, she kissed his scratchy cheek, then gave him a peck on the lips before leaning back on her elbow to look at him.  There was always something a little canine about him to her, but it was stronger when he’d just come back—the way he blinked at her like a sleepy dog melded with the way he still smelled of fur.  And it was his smell, because he smelled the same if she met him in the middle of the hallway, or raiding the fridge downstairs.  After he took a shower it would fade, but for now she breathed it deeply.  She could never explain it to anyone but him, but these were the hours when he smelled most like himself, like her Ian.    

His hand slipped into the curls at the back of her head, guiding her into a deeper kiss.  She wrapped an arm around his warm chest as he smoothed his other hand over her shoulder.  He kissed her a second time, then ever so gently pushed her away.  

“Okay, I’m sleeping now,” he said with a tired smile.

She caressed his cheek, then laid back on her side of the bed.  “Goodnight.”

RKW taglist: @jezifster @kk7-rbs @vacantgodling

Shifters taglist: @outpost51 @kk7-rbs

[unproduciblesmackdown]

So happy someone else defaulted to "oh wouldn't it be funny if Mordecai lived in the caves?" lmao it would explain how he had such easy access to the armory too

Bonus points if he sometimes hits a toe on a rock/has to hunt some spider or rat and the peeps at Lackadaisy just think it's a ghost

lol yeah once i was like "hm did mordecai have enough familiarity with the cave network there to know of some Secret Entrance since he got to the armory," but earlier viktor just notices the garage entrance trapdoor was unlocked, and we've seen mordecai keep lockpicking since....but hey it doesn't mean he Can't know of any secret entrances, and have also literally cleaned out somewhere else like "actually the secrecy of living in a cave is worth the effort / inconvenience" lmao

we sure can also appreciate a Gothic Genre Analysis applied to things out here where we have a murder and a mystery (which isn't a whodunit so much as a key to all these other Secrets) which is probably this case of the [how have these instances & manifestations of violence been incited, sustained, compounded, inherited, enforced, etc....] theme manifesting in this Central Unknown with atlas lol like, someone who was at the heart of all that & Something Happened in such a way that it seemingly came back to him like "me reaping: what the fuck. this fucking sucks" but who yet knows....bunch of mysteries, conflicts, murky painful pasts and similarly threatening futures, figurative ghosts, the haunting through histories, legacies, the manifestations of established/enmeshed power that's consuming things in hidden ways &/or seemingly suddenly erupting into view when lashing out from some threat. it's so funny but also genuinely so interesting that mordecai is the one tasked with doing some [quietly kill people] but he's also like ummm. sweating. what's going on

also there's Mood & Style which is important for anything but it also helps when you pick anything up like "is this gothic?"

it's also funny, which isn't counterproductive to any genre or style or effect if you're doing anything right lol. and it's both Very Gothic and Very Funny of anyone to be living in a cave where there's already secrets, darkness, bones, more murders, and some compulsive dusting which is funny and is also "raise your hand if you're Not characterized by violences in your past that may have been both immediate and interpersonal or too vast and immense to have been meaningfully understood as being a manifestation of some individuals' actions (e.g. crowded tenement immigrant life, for one)"....and a real classic if someone thinks there's a haunting, but then it's just some guy, except maybe there was also a haunting and maybe Some Guy's haunting is also like, damn, it's Like if there was a ghost who was murdered, where this person's life could be less ghostly if they weren't figuratively killed by certain forces....this is Just like phantom of the auditorium, of goosebumps the book series, or goosebumps the musical based on the book........in turn based on the musical, based on the book, at the time disappointing some readers who were like "what do you mean it was just some guy"....oh hey, lon chaney phantom of the opera was a '25 release. i've been staying completely on track the entire time

anyways running with it yeah i think mordecai would be sufficiently Particularly Ill-Suited for enduring his cave living that it would be like, a quick scooby doo investigation's worth of solving that mystery lol. like you don't even solve it, he just gets sick of it on his own & emerges from the darkness & proceeds to Just Walk Out, He Can Leave. > if (itSucks) {hit (dabricks!!)}

on the other hand, it wouldn't be very Thematic of him, when this is all about people in an "it sucks" situation & why they (a) are in it & (b) as yet can't, won't, &/or simply haven't just walk/ed out, Real Winners Quit style

BUT....it would be funny. and mordecai's quite the flexible & active character out here, being at lackadaisy after atlas's death(tm) sucked so he just walked out (& shot viktor)....work....social thing....cops if your quick....friend ships....and now marigold goings on are also a problem so he's doing his own mystery on mystery on mystery investigation....if it weren't for how it would bother him too much, truly, he could comically get up to some secret cave dwelling and zanily make people think there's a cave ghost

[pepi-nillo]

it's interesting how BE's first scenes point towards dongsik as the culprit, since it's most likely reflecting what's written on the report. the argument with bang juseon at the live cafe and the "see you later" having a witness, yuyeon sneaking out at night and her reputation as the good daughter probably making people think he lured her out to kill her. all of that didn't help his case, but it does set out the audience to see it from jw's pov because this is the info he had on the case

[dreamcast-official]

mm

[fluxedbuds]

wait does Bdubs think the moon is going to crash into the server again?? Like, does he think that’s just how they hop servers now??? (x)

[sabertoothwalrus]

do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?

that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.

The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.

It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.

Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.

Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:

she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.

She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)

VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.

Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.

it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.

If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.

I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.

But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?

We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.

So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.

[jytan2018]

I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

[porcalinecunt]

(𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃)𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 ♡︎

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ having the body of a cyborg came with it’s perks, including turning boothill into your own personal porn bot a plug away! ~ ♡︎

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — afab!reader. mean dom!boothill. improper use of usb ports. pornography. manhandling. overstimulation. edging. pussy drunk boothill. no pronouns for reader.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : saw someone on tt mention inappropriate use of boothill’s usb ports, and i couldn’t help myself. <33 as usual, enjoy!

“..and i’m supposed to plug this in?”

Boothill spun the harddrive around his fingers, staring at it with both curiosity yet suspicion. it was a hot pink color with a heart sticker sloppily slapped onto the front. you handed it to him without saying a word, leaving him beyond dumbfounded.

you simply nodded, trying hard not to burst out laughing. despite the glaringly obvious USB ports that were carved into his waist, he swore to have never actually stuck anything in them. by anything, of course, were any harddrives that could’ve been packed with whatever info or footage that would’ve automatically made it’s way into his memory. he didn’t want anyone’s weird porno or stupid memes to burn into his motherboard and live with it.

yet he had a hard time saying no to you. hell, he’d never say no to you unless it’d kill you. then again, it was probably a random assortment of cat videos you came across on your feed. it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. right?

holding up a reluctant thumbs up, you plugged the harddrive in and awaited his reaction with anticipation. boothill never looked away from your reaction, quickly noticing something was rather…off about your face. your lips curled into a seductive grin, biting down on your lower lip while hearts practically carved your pupils. your cheeks and nose were flushed a slight pink that faded to a hot red color.

yet, it was already too late for him.

his vision suddenly became a hot pink blur, the gears within his body had began to spun widely while the mini fans tried to cool down his heating body. the blood red target in his eye morphed into a pink heart while he spaced out at what was being shown in front of him.

nothing but pure pornography, some of the most explicit, flooding his memory and infecting his circuits with the love virus. boothill felt his head spin from the lewd imagery, bouncing from clip to clip of multiple sex acts all at once. from simple missionary to subs being bent in half by their ridiculously larger doms, there was even one where they were in full nelson. legs high up with thier sopping cunt in full view. it was all too much.

“so this..is what y’want me to do to ya…”

the cyborg chuckled, overwhelmed with his sudden libedo. he looks over at you with hungry eyes, flashing his shark toothed grin the moment you nodded.

“why didn’t ya say so, dollface..?”

“a-ah! m’sorry! m’sorry boothill..! i-i was only p-playing..ngh!”

your clothes were torn clean off without a damn given, leaving you bare and vulnerable as the cyborg pumped his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. just like how you wanted it, bent in half in full nelson with your legs held high as only boothill’s arms kept you from falling. his pace was unforgiving, hungrily stuffing you full like your his last meal on death row. despite your body already stiffening from the position, boothill showed no sign of stopping. his eyes, bright pink with hearts dialating for pupils, full of burning desire and a greedy lust that clouded his judgement till his mind went blank.

it was as if the cyborg was built for fucking, his only goal being to push you beyind your human limit.

“zip it, sugar. you're gonna take m’dick even when i’m done with ya, you hear?”

boothill hissed in your ear with a mean rasp, shark-like teeth nibbling away at your earlobe. the ticklish feeling only added to the intense overstimulation that turned your brain into mush. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach close to snapping for what seems like the tenth time tonight, until a sudden emptiness snapped you back into reality. looking down, you noticed how boothill pulled himself out, leaving you hanging. a whine came out of your throat almost instinctively at the neglect.

“boothilll..! i was so clo!—“

you’re words were rudely cut off as the ranger threw you onto the bed with you laying on your back. he wasted no time crawling on top of you and pressing his heavy body against yours. trapped, you couldn’t even move an inch as you squirmed under his touch. he practically caged you.

“keep whinin’ like that and I'll leave ya empty. got that?”

as difficult as it was, you pressed your lips together and screwed your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep quite. your cunny spasmed around his length as he kept going with his violent pace. even with the harddrive, you could never imagine boothill going this far. you truely underestimated the strength of the virus that infected his mechanical body with such libido, yet you don’t regret it. you continued to cry out as your limbs grew numb, your senses going blank in an orgasmic euphoria. you were teetering towards the fuckin’ edge.

you sobbed out babbles of “‘m gonna cum!~” over and over again like it was automatic. finally, the knot snapped in two as stars filled your vision. if he wasn’t made of metal, you would’ve left some nasty scratch marks.

on the other hand, the ranger watched in pure awe as his pretty baby fell apart on his dick. your fucked out expression, teary eyes and pouty lips covered in spit, only fuled him for more. you couldn’t even get a breath in as you were picked up and flipped onto your stomach, ass high up in the air.

“you think ‘m done yet sugar? hehe, that’s cute.”

you could only sigh in response, unable to do anything about your own mess. lesson learned, never fuck with a machine you know so little about.

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[chuluoyi]

✎ attraction

- gojo satoru x reader

to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you

note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Back in 2006—

There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?

"I want Geto."

"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"

You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”

Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.

Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.

“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”

“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”

Gojo let out a strained laugh.

To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?

You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.

He knew you were doomed to fail.

"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"

He knows. Really.

"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"

"And those are?"

But...

"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."

He was still irked, regardless.

"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"

Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.

"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"

With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.

You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!

But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.

Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.

He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"

But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the two-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.

You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.

"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"

Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.

He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.

Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.

It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.

...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.

"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.

"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"

"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"

Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that spring of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.

And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.

Epilogue

"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"

"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"

"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"

"No, Satoru—"

"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"

"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"

"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"

[hiperchile]

finally got around to watching l5y with nasia thomas & nicholas edwards and like. damn

this is everything the movie couldn’t lmao

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPxDC Warlock Batfamily

They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.

It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.

Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.

"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."

"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."

"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."

Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.

"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.

"Warlock."

"Oh."

Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"

Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."

"Fucking Hell."

-

The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.

Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.

"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."

"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."

Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.

John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."

The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.

The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.

Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.

"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."

Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."