#thread: junie

[sabancii]

who: suna + junie (@cloyingblccd) where: café marta

suna's curled into a corner booth at cafe marta, a mug cradled carefully in her hands. it's her own, hand-painted with a kitten playing the violin and the perfect amount of glitter baked into the glaze. she only requests one thing, hot water. the tea is her own brew, a loose-leaf blend she foraged and forgot to label. dandelion and mint, maybe?

a tattered magazine from 2014 is splayed open in front of her, turned to a quiz titled “are you the problem?” it’s already filled out in neon pen by someone else, but suna simply marks her answers in the margins.

"what version of yourself do you keep secret?" sends her mind somewhere distant and strange. when she looks up to think, eyes land on junie.

all five fingers wiggle in invitation. it's instinctual, cheerful, completely and cosmically unbothered... as if they hadn’t once shared a room at langston where she’d set off the fire alarm trying to smoke cleanse the mini fridge (twice). "over here!"

[wornkindness]

sometimes it's hard being an oc because i don't get threads with characters in her canon

[lcstinfantasy]

"the pogues and the kooks hate each other cause they can't admit they are attracted to each other."

[memoryservves]

who : roman + junie ( @cloyingblccd ) where : some classroom :)

“ okay , so , “ eyes scanned the sentences in the book , yellow highlighter gripped loosely in his hand , tapping against the spine of the novel . some silly assignment for an extracurricular activity of all things . if he knew it required this much time , he would have never signed up for book club . langston students paired with ones from palladian to break down barriers or whatever lame excuse their supervisor had said . he was hoping to get away with doing nothing , letting her put their discussion together , but junie held him accountable . “ um … “ filler words used liberally to give him the time he needed . “ well the eyes represent them being watched by the government . we can talk about how they had that sign but we have , uh , smartphones watching us and listening . or how they say tiktok is examining our background to customize our for you pages . “ 

[springfelt]

       ˳ ꒰ starter delivery for @sunbrews !

ʚ ˚      “   why   would   you   bring   them   here   ?   ”   inquiry   posed   with   a   hint   of   venom   amidst   syllables,   eyes   narrowed   as   she   saddles   up   next   to   a   face   too   familiar   for   her   liking.   nights   spent   rotating   between   carefully   selected   bars   followed   a   singular   routine   ;   with   blonde   performing   songs   to   entertain   patrons   who   would   lack   the   ability   to   recognize   her   outside   of   the   four   walls   couplet   find   themselves   within.   these   seedy   establishments   becoming   something   akin   to   a   safe   haven   away   from   prying   optics   of   parental   figure.   though,   haven   is   tarnished   with   appearance   of   raven   and   unknown   individual   she   was   accompanied   by.   one   seemingly   unable   to   keep   orbs   from   wandering   over   in   their   general   direction   until   songbird   completed   her   set   then   stewed   in   anger   at   a   table   across   the   room.   soles   only   moving   to   close   distance   when   stranger   steps   outside   with   cigarette   hanging   from   brims.   “   you   shouldn't   even   be   here.   are   you   trying   to   be   funny   ?   'cause   i'm   not   laughing.   ”

[dollieour]

" hey, stop ⸻ stop !   look at me.   they’re dead now.   you can stop ! "

[sleepingmyths]

@vitalphenomena / accepting.

"Thanks for the coffee, but you really don't have to sit here with me. I'm embarrassed enough as it is." The tears had dried and the warm beverage had soothed the mental breakdown, but she'd rather not be an even bigger inconvenience by forcing onto her any small talk. Even if her heart still felt like it would burst out of her chest. Years later and Evie still found triggers everywhere, even in the midst of a dinner rush in a small diner. She slides a hundred dollar bill across the table, "Here, keep the change."

[distortedblurs]

FOR:   junie bacalso - coughlan ! ( @cloyingblccd ). DETAILS:   marijoy's dorm. before dinner.

lavender  hall,  suite  #2  is  a  small  pocket  of  the  universe  that  is  only  privy  to  ...  just  about  everyone.  it's  an  open  door;  a  glittering  (  literally  )  archway;  the  air  thick  with  perfume,  music  seeping  through  the  space  between  wood  and  floor  -  always  something  bright  and  catchy.  currently,  marijoy's  universe  is  filled  with  streamers  and  boas;  the  ceiling  is  unrecognizable,  unseen  beneath  stripes  of  rainbow  and  feathers  that  occasionally  float  through  the  air  in  an  unfelt  breeze.  it's  a  fucking  eyesore;  and  they're  basking  in  the  glory,  purple  boa  wrapped  around  a  bird  -  like  neck  as  she  sprawls  across  her  bed.  the  feathers  are  cool  between  her  fingers,  and  itchy  against  her  skin.  "you  should've,  like  -  been  young  sheldon  instead  of  young  sheldon  -"  hands  leave  the  comfort  of  her  mostly  -  plastic  scarf  to  toss  junie's  notebook  away  from  their  sight  (  and  to  the  other  side  of  the  bed;  always  careful  with  their  sister's  belongings  ),  "-  i  think  i'm  going  to  switch  my  major  -  apparently,  like  -  to  learn  how  to  be  sustainable  i  also  have  to  learn  chemistry,  and  it's  like  -  i  know  what  like,  oxygen  and  hydrogen  are  already  -  i  use  hydrogen,  like,  all  the  time.  and  i  know  acid  rain  is  like,  really  bad  -  and  that,  like,  we're  all  full  of  microplastics  -  even,  like  -  babies,  at  this  rate  -  i  just  don't  know  why  i  have  to,  like  -  know  molecules  like  that,  y'know?  like,  why  can't  we  just  be  acquaintances?"  a  sigh  that's  less  defeated  and  more  annoyed,  "you're,  like  -  the  smartest  person  i  know,  i  think.  you're  like,  if  janis  went  to  harvard  and  did  chem  instead  of  law.  do  you  wanna  take  my  class  for  me?"

[aquamanandfriends]

TagDump - Juni Gallagher

[jetlaggingbehind]

i wish alex could just recast his characters with new actors ngl

[tisalovestory]

Omg, we do have the same Robin blorbo! Jason is just 👩‍🍳😘 i love the anti-heroes 🥰 and Dick is good, too, but Jason is my #1.

Damian is a gremlin child but so precious and must be protected at all costs - kuroo cake anon

It is so hard to get into comic characters because comic runs and archs and retcons are so damn messy (like, im pretty sure no one would disagree if i say probably ppl who make those comics are a bit lost sometimes) but i love it when characters are a bit tragic and broken. His mom (who he died trying to save) literally sold him to his murderer in the original run like pls… i cannot breathe im suffocating myself

[cloyingblccd]

END.

adrien let her talk. or rather, he let her unleash, watching the verbal lashing with the same amused fascination one might offer a housecat hissing at its own reflection. she was ruffled — proud little feathers all askew, very cute — and if there was one thing adrien loved more than a challenge, it was watching control-freaks unravel just enough to show their seams. junie, perched like a tempest atop that cursed bench, had nearly face-planted into his chest, and yet here she was, attempting to reassert her throne with a hand still clutched to his jacket and fire still dancing behind her eyes. he grinned lazily, not even blinking when she yanked him closer — nose to nose, her words like glass dragged across velvet. “mm. there she is,” he murmured, voice infuriatingly low and warm, like he was letting her in on some kind of secret. “i was beginning to worry you were only sharp elbows and disapproval. but look at that —” his eyes traced her face, unhurried, all mischief and malevolence. “— you do know how to flirt.”

he didn’t flinch when she said never call her sweetheart again. if anything, it only seemed to amuse him further, that glint behind his lashes sharpening. “well, junie,” he echoed, drawing her name out like he was trying the taste of it, slow and deliberate, “that’s a shame. i thought we were building something beautiful with ‘sweetheart.’ something timeless. we could’ve had a fun little back and forth with nicknames,” he pressed a hand dramatically to his chest as she let him go, clearly unbothered by the sudden shift in proximity. he rocked back slightly on his heels again as if to reestablish his indifference, but his grin never faded. he didn’t offer his hand when she hopped down — he wasn’t stupid. he could’ve, sure. it would’ve been easy; but he understood pride when he saw it, and hers was practically stitched into the collar of her shirt. instead, he just stood there, letting her scrape together whatever poise the bench had tried to rip away from her. he let her come to him, short and indignant, hands on her hips like she was preparing to deliver a royal decree.

her final question made him laugh — low, rough-edged, and genuine. like someone had scratched an itch deep in his ribs. “junie,” he said again, voice a shade too soft to be entirely mocking. “i am the lottery.” a stretch for his ego, a flat lie, a flase promise he couldn’t keep. he’s the illusion of the lottery: all flash, no guarantee. winning him might feel good for a night or a week or a reckless stretch of time, but there are no long-term payouts — some lousy scam that maybe even she’d be smart enough to see through. he’s a scratch ticket that looks expensive but burns fast. he stepped in towards her — not all the way, not quite touching, but close enough that she could smell his cologne, something crisp and expensive layered over old leather, using the height difference to his advantage. “and i don’t think you’d give me the time of day,” he said plainly, tilting his head. “i know you will. eventually. maybe not today. maybe not tomorrow. but that fuse you’re burning? it’s already lit.” he flicked his gaze downward for a half-second, somewhere around her shoes, then back up. “but indignation is very cute on you.”

he made no move to leave her space, still lingering there like a bad idea she hadn’t shaken yet. the grin that tugged at his mouth was smaller now, subtler — less of a smirk, more of a knowing. a promise. “besides,” he added, glancing toward the sculpture again with a lazy nod, “we both know you liked the view from up there a little too much to make that jump without a final word.” and then, as if the whole thing had just occurred to him, he snapped his fingers. “you can’t help it. you like talking to me.” he turned as if to walk off — one long, dramatic step — then paused and threw a look over his shoulder, sunglasses slipping just low enough for her to see the glint in his eye. “see you around, napoleon.” then, a slow, sly smirk curling beneath his lashes as he turned to face the petite brunette, walking backwards now with a wolfish grin that said the better to eat you with, my dear — “actually? don’t doubt it. i’ll be seeing you.” this time, he didn’t wait for her comeback or her bratty reply, he turned and walked off, unhurried, like he’s already won something she hadn't meant to wager.

[lcstinfantasy]

“the sexual tension is thick in the air.”

[rhythmicals]

honestly,  it’s  a  little  stupid  how  skittish  the  situation  makes  him  feel.  it’s  not  like  he  has  any  reason  to  be,  and  he  knows  it.  the  sheer  stupidity  they  had  just  endured  together  is  probably  enough  to  make  him  seem  like  the  next  dr.  johnson  in  comparison  —  erudite,  wise,  and  most  importantly,  not  a  complete  idiot.  and  yet,  he  can't  help  it.  the  way  that  his  heart  skips  a  beat,  breath  hitching  in  his  chest  at  the  sight  of  her  soft  frown  of  concentration  as  she  looks  through  various  notes  and  scribbles.  jamie  prescott,  the  boy  who  once  spent  two  hours  arguing  with  a  teacher  over  her  uninspired  reading  of  the  life  of  pi,  is  now  reduced  to  nothing  but  a  bundle  of  nerves,  all  at  the  mere  prospect  of  junie  thinking  his  analysis  is  trivial  --  or  god  forbid,  derivative.

it  takes  him  a  few  seconds  to  register  the  joke  at  his  expense,  blank  expression  on  his  face  as  he  blinks  in  her  direction.  “how  did  you  know?  my  mother  put  me  in  a  freak  show.”  words  deadpan,  contrasting  severely  with  their  absurd  nature,  the  ensuing  silence  only  lasting  a  few  seconds  his  face  breaks  into  a  grin.  “i  guess  you’ll  just  have  to  wait  for  when  i  update  my  goodreads.  i  know  you  read  it,  i’ve  seen  your  likes.  very  flattering.”

Jamie’s words give Junie pause. Frankly, she’s a bit flattered - she’s usually above it all, someone’s view or opinion of her. It seems to matter when someone she cares about is involved, finding herself grinning sheepishly at his compliment. Said so surely, like he couldn’t fathom otherwise. She was different with him - minutely, and something that’d developed over time. Still sharp with her words, but more choosey with them. There was an effort there to be soft and kind, and it’d happened without her permission, but Junie struggled to change it now. She couldn’t even think of why she’d want to. “I’ve been told I’m an acquired taste more often than not. You’re just tough.” She reasoned, nudging her elbow against his. “And clearly have more of an open mind than I do. Once I’ve read something it’s sort of ingrained forever - I’d like to spend a day in your brain, though. I want to see the gears and cogs turning with each reread.”

She tried to hide her excitement when Jamie eventually relinquishes his book to her - the hesitation minimal though she picks up on it. It makes her want to blush, wondering belatedly if he’d have given it up so easily if anyone else asked. If he’d even give it up at all. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse,” she insisted, already thumbing through the worn pages. She wouldn’t want him to know her thoughts on his, anyway - not now, at least. That felt a bit sacred, probably a bit more intimate than what he’d signed up for. Even though she had an opinion about everything, especially when it came to Jamie, and she wasn’t one to tamper them - she, at least, had some social awareness. “Your handwriting is…” Unfortunately, she was endeared, where it’d usually make her nose wrinkle to see such chicken scratch across the page. But it was Jamie - and she could only assume he was trying to jot his thoughts down as quickly as possible, couldn’t care less that it made his writing almost illegible. “I’m not sure I’m going to get much insight from this as is,” she mumbled, raising an amused brow at him. “Did you write with only your toes for the developmental years of your life?”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for translating an artist's 2D art into a 3D medium for me to hang on my wall?

There's an artist (Junie, fake name) whose work I admire dearly. I was scrolling through some embroidery art earlier, and I realized that I could embroider on top of my closest approximation of one of Junie's artworks to hang on my wall. To do this, I would use a big enough hoop and blank fabric, and I would carefully draw this particular art piece free hand. I would then go back over it all with thread in the color palette that Junie chose for their original artwork (and substitute some of the yellows for bright sparkling gold).

I don't think this would be an AH move since (1) I would only embroider this piece for myself and not sell it. (2) I also have already bought Junie's artbook a couple years ago, and it's gorgeous, beautiful, hardcover, and hefty, so I've definitely bought some of Junie's work before. (3) Junie seems to only do digital and traditional 2D art--no 3D fiber art--so there'd be no way for me to pay Junie for an embroidered wall-hanging of this piece even if I didn't want to make it myself.

P.S. I thought about posting a picture of the finished embroidered work once I was done. If I did, I would 100% include a link back to Junie's tumblr and the original art post and make it clear that it was Junie's original artwork but my stitchwork (choice to backstitch, French knot, stem stitch, etc.).

What are these acronyms?

[damian-lil-babybat]

Boy Wonder #4 by Juni Ba

Could you imagine the range of stories we could have had if the LoA and Talia and Damian were given the world-building they deserve? The myths, the tragedy, the pining, the heartbreak—the angst! Not just good vs evil, but a lesser evil for a greater cause.

Demon's Heart (Qalb al Ghul) قلب الغول

It added brushstrokes to their beauty. Texture on how much they fit in the threads of life. It makes them alive. I cried.

I have wanted this story for so long. Damian following Batman's footsteps was okay, but sooo boring. This might come as an unpopular opinion, but he had always been a more fun character to read when he is the son of Talia, than a son of the Bat (frankly I only look forward to sibling bonding when it comes to Wayne side of the family).