#he thinks Jon needs to hear it from Someone)

[lillie98]

How to Save the World—Stranger Things 5

I’ve had some time to sleep on the episode titles and think about them, read theories, etc. and I now believe they might be real.

Hear me out: Stranger Things is all about cycles, parallels, tropes happening over and over again. The Duffers love taking a moment and repeating it in slightly different ways to prove a point. The story started with “The Vanishing of Will Byers” because we needed to place a small, innocent child in the center of our story, something to bring our character together and drive them to action. Well, that child is no longer in danger and our team is ripping apart at the seams. It’s almost like we need something similar to reunite everyone and drive them to action again.

Remember: The Duffers love parallels. Will’s disappearance brought his deeply fractured family together, uniting them for a common cause. It also brought Nancy and Jon together when their families needed them most. Now, the Byers are a united front, ready to tackle any monster that comes their way. They are the glorification of the avant-gard family. Now which family is struggling? The Wheelers. The perfect, All-America Nuclear Family: Mom, Dad, 3 kids, and a picket fence. They look perfect to the outside world, but behind closed doors, they are deeply struggling. They don’t communicate, the parents have idea what’s happening in their children’s lives, and if they’re not careful, if they don’t come together and form a united front—they’re going to lose everything, potentially causing the end of the world. (Why? I haven’t gotten that far yet!)

Now, how do we inspire them to action? Maybe by taking the child who was born to save their crumbling marriage—the one has seen everything but, up until this point, been too young to contribute. Now, she’ll be the same age Will was when he disappeared and Mike and Will are the same age as Jon and Nancy. The Duffers are trying to illustrate the idea of “The Next Generation.” This evil, this Upside Down dimension is NEVER going to stop until someone from the Wheeler and Byers families breaks the cycle. Children will continue to vanish, the world will continue to crumble, until someone steps up and says ENOUGH. The Wheelers and Byers (parents and children) must step up and face their pasts in order to move forward.

The “Stranger Things” are not only LGBTQ+ matters, they are the skeletons we hide in the closet that literally eat us alive. They are the dark, festering parts of ourselves we don’t let anyone else see. The invisible cancers that slowly and silently kill us. Until we face them head on, until we bring them to the light, they will NEVER die. Stranger Things is about owning your past, facing your fears, and finding the light again.

So yes, Stranger Things will end with Will Byers making it home from Mike Wheeler’s house on November 6, 1983, but not in a time traveling way, in a finally letting go of that scared, pained little boy who thought the world was better off without him. It’s Mike accepting his sexuality and place in his family. His role as a leader. It’s Joyce accepting love from Hopper, who must accept that he is not actually cursed, but that sometimes, bad things happen to good people, even when they think they’re doing the right thing (Vietnam). it’s Karen and Ted falling in love again and fighting to save their family. It’s Eleven discovering that love, not anger, should fuel her powers. It’s mourning your stolen childhood while stepping into the version of yourself that child never got to be. It’s stopping the cycle and creating a better world for the Will Byers and Mike Wheelers and Jane Hoppers of tomorrow. THAT’S how you become a Hero.

#stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler #byler endgame #stranger things analysis #stranger things headcanons #byler is requited #stranger things 5 #eleven #jane hopper #holly wheeler #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #vecna stranger things #break the cycle #trauma #joyce byers #jim hopper #karen wheeler #ted wheeler #mental health

[marcelineuntitled]

mag 122 but if Tim was still there

#tma #tma fanart #jontim #jontim fanart #jon sims #jon sims fanart #tim stoker #tim stoker fanart #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanart #my art #i just want them to be friends again man #mag 122 #tma spoilers #just in case idk #(even if Tim doesn't like him and even if he doesn't forgive him and even if it isn't necessarily True just yet #he thinks Jon needs to hear it from Someone)

[drownedbycoffee]

THEY AREN'T THE FEARS ANYMORE!! THEY'RE DESIRES

(SPOILERS for TMA, and all of TMAGP episodes so far)

Okay, here me out

Tmagp1: Darla wants to hear Arthur's voice again. She even says: "I just couldn’t face the thought of the rest of my life never hearing him again, I had to try" and later on she even says: "But I had to know, so I went to the cemetery."

Tmagp1: RedCanary wants to know about the Magnus Institute. They want to know why it's listed under 'cleared' when there's no evidence of it. Hence why they go and explore it.

Tmagp2: Daria wants that absolute perfection. She wants to change who she is and get out of that dark place. When she talks about the thing that she felt was missing, she says, "... and that’s when I decide I need a tattoo. I had a couple already – just little things on my shin and my wrist – but I decided I needed something big. Something that really changed my look." She also mentions when talking about Ink5oul that "they just kept pressing me about my life, about why I wanted the ink" instead of asking what design she wanted. And when she got the tattoo she describes herself as now being, "Someone I wanted to know more about." Afterwards she even says how "For the first time ever [she] wanted to attempt a self-portrait. Something real and physical, [she] wanted to feel the brushes in my hands and the oil on [her] fingertips." I think a lot of her statement is about her desire and impulsive need for that perfection and that wholeness that she has been aspiring to for her whole life.

Tmagp3: Samuel wants to stay hidden. He wants and he "need[s] to get up, get out of here for treatment." He wants to get better and most of his delirious thoughts are the things that he wants, or feels like he needs. E.g. "I so much want to see it [the sun] again. This night seems endless. I want to be warm again. I am terribly afraid. Thank god for Maddie. I need to treat her better."; "I just need to rest."; "I need to be careful or we’ll drift apart." And then obviously as the narrative continues, Samuel wants to grow and 'put down roots'.

Tmagp4: The narrator wants to be revered and accepted into the Royal Court Orchestra of the Palatinate. He wants to show off and impress. The violin "was a creature with needs and purpose of its own. The needs were simple enough. Blood. Flesh." It has these needs and desires.

So far, I'm interpreting it to be that everything so far can be interpreted as a desire of sorts, varying in the strength and intensity of it. Obviously, fear is still a big part of it all, because if you want something so badly, aren't you afraid of it being stolen from you? Of it being out of your grasp? Of it being unachievable or impossible in some capacity? Of it being a lie?

Even Sam wants to find out more. He wants to know the why and the reason for things. Gwen wants Lena's job. Collin wants to fix all these bugs and keep Freddie running. Alice wants to just get on with it because she found out that wanting to know the 'why' of things is dangerous.

I think that somehow when the Web took all the Fears into a different universe, they morphed into something else. Or they changed to fit what was the most prevalent thing in that universe, because after all, everyone wants something, even if it's something small and inconsequential. Life and aspects of it has always been characterised by that desire for something. Like people wanting food, shelter, safety, love, warmth, happiness, etc. And I think since the Web was so intwined with Jon and Martin, it absorbed some of their emotions when it found its way into this new world, because after all Jon and Martin wanted to stop Jonah/Elias, to stop the apocalypse, to destroy the Panopticon, to be safe, and they wanted each other. I think the wanting and fear of things are really entwined in it all, though this could be absolute bullshit haha

#tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol #tmagp #magnus thursday #tma #long post #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #magpod #the magnus protocol speculation #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #tmagp thoughts #tmagp 1 #tmagp 2 #tmagp 3 #tmagp 4 #magnus protocol #the magnus institute #the magnus universe #coffee.txt

[ishipgenfics]

Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.

Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."

He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.

He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.

He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.

The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.

He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.

You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."

You just walk by.

You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.

Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #fanfiction #fanfic #story #story snippet #story ideas #somewhere else #tma #might make another post about martin if the inspiration strikes me #also i've never actually been in a support group so #sorry

[rboooks]

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

#dcxdp crossover #dc x dp crossover #Child Support #Part 2 #John is trying his best #He's fighting off suitors from his son #Despite being very pretty Danny has a hard time making friends #He's the oldest in Damian's new team #I found the ship Damian/Colin the other day and I love it

[avtrbee]

the prince

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig

✢ a/n: i’m not gonna lie to you guys, i know i’ve been a while and im really ashamed that i come back with something that i believe this isn’t my best work at all. i had this prompt in my head for a long time and i have wanted to publish this ever since. always love hearing from all of you and i’d like to get some feedback as well <33

You were a clan kid fortunate enough to be born with the clan’s cursed technique but unfortunate enough to be a woman. Your childhood tutors had drilled the duties of wives in your head, and had made you comfortable with the idea of an arranged marriage. You pride yourself as a good traditional daughter, whose greatest honor would be marrying your husband.

Never in your life did you imagine yourself caring for a child that is not yours.

That was, of course, until you met your husband.

You have heard of Gojo Satoru before and fought him a few times during sister-school events, but never in your life did you think he’d be who you were destined for. Still, he surprised you.

“You are my wife, my equal,” he promises you at the night of your wedding. The ceremony was over and the guests have gone home. You have said your vows in front of the gods and they have bounded you to this man.

He drags you off to bed and makes you sit on the floor with him.

Satoru looks at you with the moon shining on him making him look like an ethereal god. And to you, he was. Which is why you tilt your head at his statement. “Gojo-sama, I do not understand-”

“Satoru,” he says. “I am your husband, you should call me by my name y’know.” His voice is light and teasing, underplaying the reality of the situation. “I don’t want a slave. I want a confidant. A partner. I need someone. Do you understand?”

You nod. Strangely you do. “We must protect each other.”

You were both very lonely people thrust into a union none of you asked for. There are targets on your backs for sins you cannot control. You were alone, but not anymore.

Your husband nods and he takes his glasses off. You realize for the nth time that Satoru is a pretty, pretty man. His blue eyes shine and twinkle like the stars above.

He reaches for your hand- a strange gesture but you allow it anyway. “I will do right by you,” he promises. In his mind he remembers his mother, the one who loves too much but is loved so less. Like her, Satoru’s marriage is arranged by the clan. But he will not be his father.

He is a man of his word.

The next morning you find yourself waking to an empty bed with a smell of burning food. You catch your husband defeated before the stove with burnt scrambled egg on the table. “This is what couples do, right?”

You stare at him, simply horrified that you had failed to wake up first. You were supposed to cook him breakfast, not the other way around.

Satoru catches your expression. “Hey! It’s not that bad!” He pokes the pathetic excuse of a scrambled egg. His mother had always cooked for the family, it shouldn’t have been this hard. “…right?”

You ban him from your kitchen.

He takes you to the school next. You walk behind him, as is the norm, but Satoru makes a face that pushes you to stay beside him. His voice echoes in your head, you are my wife, my equal.

The weather was perfect, but he fusses about the fact that you decided to wear a sleeveless sundress that he deems inappropriate for the wind.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“Yes, Satoru.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow suspiciously, like he does not believe you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. His face morphs to an expression of victory. “Ha! Your hands are cold. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.” He spits, but his voice lacks venom. You pretend to ignore his poor excuse to hold your hand. Deep inside you like it. Romance is for fiction and some anime you were lucky enough to watch. A distinguished member of your the Gojo clan does not deserve it, but your husband is a romantic.

He stops you from walking out of the shade of the trees and into the sunshine. He opens his tote bag and points to a closed umbrella. “Do you need this? To protect you from- y’know.”

His points up to the sun.

Against your will you find his needless worrying endearing. He does not know his role as a husband well, but he is trying. When you finally arrive inside the Tokyo school, his hand is still clasped in your. Satoru is loud and proud when he introduces you to everyone, even if you have done nothing to deserve such pride. His co-workers pity you for being married to him and offer their condolences. Satoru protests strongly.

“Y/N loves spending time with me!” he says, stomping his feet like a child. He tugs your hand and looks at you in support. “Right?”

You smile and nod. You do. You wonder if you may love him someday.

-

The night is dark, and Satoru is not home yet. It has been a slow 8 months since your marriage. The ladies from your clan were wrong. Your husband is not cruel. He does not scold you if you use your cursed technique even when you accidentally use it on him.

You have never been someone good with words, so you decide to bake him a simple carrot cake. Your husband has a sweet tooth and he has a penchant of liking things better if it came from you.

You had only just finished adding icing the cake when you felt Satoru’s cursed energy through the door. You take a look at your cake one last time before heading towards the door to greet him.

Traditionally a wife must wait for her husband to enter in the middle of the room kneeling for supplication- a tradition most ingrained in your head more than most. As a compromise, Satoru suggested to have you greet him by the door instead because- “The first thing I want to see when I get home is your cute face. Obviously.”

You dust off imaginary crumbs off your hands by wiping it on your pants before sliding the door open.

“Welcome ho-”

In front of you, Satoru looks cold. You wonder if this is how others see him. He looks down at you with a cold gaze, He does not tremble. There is a child in his arms.

Both child and Satoru looks at you with twin cold eyes. You shiver. “He’s mine.”

You hear maids scuffle from behind you, but you do not care. The child innocently rests his cheek on Satoru’s shoulder looking at you.

There is no doubt the child is his. Your husband’s hair is on his head and dear god- their eyes. They have the same eyes.

In your head you hear the ladies of your clan again. Stand tall, Y/N. They may have their mistresses, but you will always be his true wife.

Of course you knew about Satoru’s womanizer past- present. Are you upset? Are you angry? You do not know, truly. You are simply confused.

Your clan’s ladies have prepared you for worst; what to do when your husband brings home another woman, what to say if they came home violent, where to go if you are too broken and beaten to sleep beside him. But what if your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

There is a pain in your chest you do not understand. This is expected! Men cannot be held down by just their wives. Did you expect him to be different? A cold fury washes over you

“Welcome home.” You finish instead.

-

check out my masterlist, and don’t forget to lmk how i can improve this fic <33

#gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen

[bleedingoptimism]

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?” 

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi” 

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

#stranger things #argyle #steve #friendship #and a little #steddie #on the side #because i cant help myself #i wrote something

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 46

part 1 | part 45 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

Somewhere around the second chorus, Nancy finally stops twirling, head down and eyes closed as she wobbles dangerously in place — Steve can see Jon tensing just in case he needs to jump in and save her from busting her ass — and when she looks up, her eyes lock on Steve like she's seeing him for the first time in forty years.

“Steeeeeve!” she slurs, smile sloshing over her features like a splash of spilled punch.

Good god. “Hey, Nance.”

She reaches over and paws at his arm, a swiping motion like she's either about to yank him in for a hug or wipe some lint off his sleeve, and says, “Steve, I— I, um- can- can we...?”

With a determined look in her glossy eyes, she pitches forward and slams into him. Steve goes flopping backward into a squishy leather armchair and lands with a lapful of Nancy. Nancy Wheeler, the ex who dumped him at a party not unlike this one. Who left him for a guy standing a foot and a half away.

Who's snickering into the crook of his neck now as she clings to his shoulders to try and stop herself from slinking sideways to the floor.

Steve throws Eddie and Jonathan matching looks — something between 'this okay?' and 'what the actual fuck?' — but Jon just shrugs like what're ya gonna do? and Eddie gives him a quick wink and turns his attention back to the boys.

Super helpful, Ed. Thanks so fucking much.

“Hiii,” Nancy giggles, looping her arms tighter around his neck to hold herself upright. It should seem flirty, but it doesn’t, somehow. Feels more like… sisterly concern?

Feels fucking weird, is what.

“Hi,” he says a little stiffly, his arms hovering in a loose bracket on either side of her in case she topples. He feels a little bad for being standoffish when she's in a sweet and friendly mood; doesn't want to be a buzzkill, but he doesn't exactly know what to do with an armful of happy-go-lucky hammered Nance.

Never did, really, because he couldn’t ever tell when it was genuine or not. Which was kinda the whole problem, wasn’t it?

Nancy pokes at the edge of the frown he didn't realize he was making. "Aw, don't..." she mumbles with a wounded little sound, her eyes sliding over his face, head bobbling like she's standing on the deck of a ship. “Or do," she hiccups and swallows a burp. Her lower lip trembles. "I prob'ly deser— deserve it."

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He would've killed for this conversation twelve months ago; would've killed to hear it sober and asking for him back.

Now he mostly feels bad for making her feel bad, even though she’s not exactly wrong. Maybe she did deserve it, once. But not here; not now. “No, you don’t,” he sighs and lets his arm skim her waist. “You don’t. You should be enjoying the party, I’m sorry.”

She protests with an almost violent shake of her head. “No,” she insists, overenunciating the word. “No. I do. I was…"

She straightens her spine and stares at him like she's trying to bore a hole through his head; like this is important. Like there's a cut on her hand and gasoline in the carpet. "I was bullshit.” She jabs her pointer finger against her breastbone. “I was.”

Steve blinks at her. Feels tears bead in his eyes and slither into his sinuses. Gently, he reaches out and pushes down on the back of her hand; guides it away from her chest until it falls back to her lap.

“Think maybe we both were,” he offers with a quiet sniff. Takes a second to just breathe, sharp and wet through his nose. “Thank you, though. For saying that. Means a lot.”

Her eyes still look sad, but the corners of her mouth lift in a small, hopeful tick. “It does?”

“Yeah.”

Across the room, someone clambers onto a kitchen counter and hollers, "Hey! Listen up!"

The music pauses; the moment breaks. The crowd turns to the guy, who cups his hands around his mouth and announces, “Fifteen minutes to midnight! Find your make-out buddy, folks!"

Commotion as everyone scrambles to pair up: Nancy looks at Jonathan and stumbles off Steve’s lap; Gareth stares forlornly at a girl over by the stairs; Frank purses his lips and tells Jeff to start puckerin’, princess, and Jeff laughs and shoves him with a playful "fuck off, dude."

Eddie’s only got eyes for Steve.

He’s staring right at him, eyes lit up with desire; twinkling stars in deep woods. “Get a refill with me?” he asks as he offers Steve a hand.

Steve stands and does his best not to sway into Eddie’s arms.

“Oh, my god," Robin mutters over the rim of her cup, "so we’re not seeing you two again tonight."

“What was that?” Steve asks. Eddie sticks his tongue out at her.

“Nothing, dinguses,” she sighs. “Happy new year.”

Steve wishes her the same, reaching out to link their pinkies and giving hers a quick squeeze. Pinky hug; love you, too. As he and Eddie shuffle past, Steve sees Argyle turn to Robin and casually try to shoot his shot.

“Hey, pretty bird lady…” he starts.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Robin responds by making crazy eyes and bleating out a nervous laugh that roughly translates to sorry sorry sorry sorry and never in a million years; Steve's tempted to lean over and clap a hand over her mouth to put her out of her gay misery, but Argyle's the most chill dude on the planet, apparently, because he doesn't even seem fazed.

“No sweat, my guy,” he shrugs and extends a closed hand. “Midnight fist bump instead?”

—

part 47

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #corroded coffin #my writing #my fic

[thefabulous-mostgroovy]

Beautiful Boy

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks, softening his voice. Jon nods.

"I... I think it'll be good for me."

That's all Martin needs to hear.

(art included!)

Jon/Martin, 1.7k words, rated Gen, read on AO3. this is for day 3 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt Hair Care!!

Martin truly thinks he's an absolute genius for using one of Jon's hair clips to keep the towel in place. Jon snickers a little at his chuffed face in the mirror, holding the other end of the towel up with his hands in front of him.

"Don't laugh," Martin tuts. "Or I'll give you a bad haircut.

"I don't know if a buzz cut is possible to mess up," Jon says. Even joking, he sounds a little nervous. His eyes dart from his own reflection to the scissors in Martin's hands, and back again. Martin plants a kiss in his hair.

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks, softening his voice. Jon nods.

"I... I think it'll be good for me."

That's all Martin needs to hear.

They've gone over his decision a few times. First of all, the long hair has gotten a bit annoying. It blows in his face, especially in the Highland winds. It's a pain to maintain. But, mostly, it has too many negative memories attached. The only reason it's as long as it is, is he's been too tired and stressed and scared to go outside to get a proper haircut. He didn't grow it out, it got out of control. Just another thing he couldn't fix, couldn't get a handle on. Not to mention the fairly recent fear of strangers welding blade near his throat. Chopping it all off is about as good of a fresh start as Jon is going to get right now.

He remembers Jon's hair when they first met. It had been a bit long, even for how short he used to keep it. He kept it loosely pushed out of his face, but it fell in loose waves over his face whenever he was concentrating on anything else. Martin was never able to pay attention to the day's to-do's because he was always too busy watching Jon's hands run through his own hair, flipping it out of his face, the grey strands at his temples revealing themselves when he combed it back.

Despite his scruffy, ill-fitting suit jackets and trousers, his hair always fell perfectly with seemingly very little effort. Martin has curly hair himself, and he's never been one to get jealous over someone else's hair, but he really thought that's what he felt about Jon in the early days.

(It was not jealousy. He was just completely arse over kettle for his boss. But, can you blame him? Jon might be the prettiest man Martin has ever met.)

After Prentiss, Jon let his hair grow out a bit more. Well, let is a strong word. More like, he neglected in getting a haircut as his paranoia grew and grew. It reached his shoulders in just a few months, and Jon had taken up keeping it tied back in these large clips that's currently holding up the towel that will catch all that hair when Martin shears it off.

Martin remembers being quite surprised at how long his hair had gotten when he returned from his brief stint of running from the police. It was hanging in loose strings over his shoulders, like it hadn't been very well taken care of. Part of him had wanted to sit Jon down and detangle the nest residing on his head. Maybe give it a good wash.

The next time he saw Jon, it was with his hair in a braid. Or, an attempt at a braid. It was a bit more like a series of knots, a bit lopsided and kind of falling out. In his week-long shock at the fact that his boss was not, in fact, just a creepy middle aged man who was way too into administrative work, but an evil eldritch monster who is still way too into administrative work, he told Jon this. While he waited for Jon's tea to steep, he turned around and told him, 'Hey, your braid's a mess. Want me to fix it?'

To his everlasting surprise, Jon said yes.

With shaking hands and a beet red face, Martin had sat behind Jon on the couch, and carefully brushed Jon's hair through with his fingers. His hair looked healthy, like it had been recently washed, and smelled of coconut and bergamot. There was a lot more grey in it than when he first met Jon (but not as much as there is now).

Jon had sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as Martin had brushed his hair back. He had wanted so badly to run his nails over his scalp, and he just barely restrained himself from doing so. His hair was soft under his hands, and it bounced back into shape when his fingers ran through the ends.

Actually putting the plait in was easy. Martin fell victim to being a girl's Gay Best Friend while he was still in high school, which is never all that great, but he did actually enjoy styling her hair. It came to him as muscle memory, twisting the three sections around each other, careful not to pull or tug by accident. He kept it fairly loose to not give Jon a tension headache, and the shape of his curls were still visible as they flowed into the braid.

After tying it off, Jon had gotten a bit stuttery and smiley, tucking the shorter strands that fell over his face behind his ears, and Martin had practically short circuited and fled the room.

Jon never got around to properly cutting his hair, even as it reached further and further down his back. After Daisy, he could never let anyone near him with a blade without falling into panic. So, he simply put up with the choppy cuts from cutting the dead ends off with a pair of kitchen scissors. It was good enough for him, apparently. And he never had to let any strangers near his neck.

Martin can't help but feel a little pride at the fact that Jon is allowing him to do this. Sure, he's screwing his eyes shut and bordering on holding his breath, but Jon is letting him do this in the first place.

"I'm gonna start now," Martin warns him. Jon hums and nods minutely, and Martin gathers some hair in his hands. He gives him another moment to change his mind, then makes the first cut.

He starts near his nape, moving along in as straight a line as he can manage. He cringes a little at the slope he creates—he somehow manages to cut a bar graph into Jon's ends—but it doesn't matter. He drops the cut strands into the bin below him, not bothering with the bits that stick to the towel. His hair goes from ending at his mid-back, to... whatever Martin has managed to make. It sits in an odd, blunt bob, just above his shoulders. When Martin sets the scissors down for a moment, stretching his hands, Jon's shoulder slump and relax, and reveals that Martin has actually cut much further than he thought.

"You look like Lord Farquaad," Martin snickers as Jon opens his eyes. They glow green for just a second, and Jon gasps in offence, then laughs.

"So mean to me," he bemoans. "Why must I face such treatment? Go to jail."

"If I go to jail, I can't do the rest of your hair, m'Lord." Martin picks the scissors back up, ready to cut more off before going with the razor. Jon closes his eyes again.

"I'll just visit you in jail," Jon says, seeming much more relaxed now that the first shock is over. "Give you a spoon to dig your way out."

"I'll Shawshank Redemption my way out of there," Martin promises as he cuts shorter and shorter. "Come back with scissors and a vengeance."

Jon laughs quietly. After another few minutes, Martin has gotten his hair into a rather shaggy short cut. It looks awful.

"Okay, I'm gonna plug in the razor, don't look at your hair."

"Why not?" Jon immediately opens his eyes and starts to laugh at the sight.

"Don't look!" Martin splutters, scandalised.

"I look like I got attacked by Edward Scissorhands!" Jon cackles, running a hand through the choppy sections.

"I'll fix it, just hold bloody still," Martin grumbles, face red. Even through the buzzing of the razor, he can hear and see Jon humming with giggles. He never could have guessed that Jon's favourite hobby, should they ever have actually started dating, would be winding Martin up at every opportunity.

He starts, again, at the neck and works his way up. His grey hair sits in patches through the black, buzzed hair. Martin wouldn't tell him, but it makes him look like a spotted cat. The hair falls into the towel above Jon's lap, onto the floor. Once Martin is done, and it looks a relatively even length, he turns the clippers off, and kisses the top of Jon's head.

"All finished," he says softly.

Jon opens his eyes and stares at the mirror. He runs a hand over his head, tilting it to the side a little. Martin, to busy his nervous hands, removes the hair clip from the towels and gathers it up with the pile of hair in it.

"Do..." Martin tries to act and sound casual. He does not. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," Jon says, and finally smiles. There are pinprick tears in his eyes. "I do. I really do."

Martin kisses the top of his head again, running his hand over his hair. The short strands are still soft, but sliding his hand up the opposite direction leaves his palm a little scratchy. Jon doesn't stand, but he reaches up and pulls Martin down into a proper kiss.

"I love you," he whispers on Martin's lips.

"I love you, too," Martin whispers back. He brushes some of the stray hairs that somehow found their way onto Jon's jumper before he kisses him again.

That night, in bed, Martin strokes his hand back and forth over Jon's hair while he sleeps, tucked under Martin's chin. It feels nice. Different.

And Jon is still the prettiest man that Martin has ever met.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jmart #jonmartin week 2024 #jmart fanfic #jmart fanart

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.

#harringrove #ficlet #billy hargrove #steve harrington #jim hopper #hopper being a well meaning but slightly awkward dad has my heart #he'll tell this story at their wedding #as revenge for billy telling everyone that hop set him up #seriously though I have a dozen fics in progress rn #not one of them is harringrove #what's wrong with me

[darkmajesty-xo]

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

#yandere shigaraki #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #mha shigaraki #mha smut #shigaraki x black reader #shigaraki x chubby reader #mha x blackreader #mha x chubby reader #mha crack

[autismprotocol]

TMAGP Theory Board (S1 EP 7)

Dang that episode was a RIDE Hope everyone had a relaxing week because after the newest protocol episode I am screaming!! so lets get right to it

What Happened in Episode 7: Give and Take

Celia seems to know something about the powers with her references to the buried and the flesh in the opening conversation with Alice

Celia recognizes Chester's voice!! since the introduction of Celia's last episode, I wanted to see how she would react to hearing Chester and Norris and we got that in this episode. It's safe to say that Celia recognized Chester's voice as Jon. This piece of evidence makes me almost 100% sure that this Celia is the same Celia/Lynne from Archives

Jon is Back!!! after Chester's statement (more on that later) we learn that Sam has been getting emails from someone named Jon. He also mentions it in an internal email. This helps support the theory that Jon and Chester/FR3-d1 are fused somehow which is what I (and a lot of the fandom) have been thinking. This leaves me with a lot of questions how else can Jon communicate through FR3-d1 with the outside world? Are Martin and Jonah sentient as well? Also, my big question is if this is the first time Jon has been able to signal to the OIAR Staff or if he has been trying to get them to listen since he manifested in the world and Sam was the first one to notice him or is this his first attempt to make contact. I'm interested to learn more about how Jon will continue to influence Sam. I think he's either trying to warn Sam about the OIAR's true intention or is he looking for some way to escape FR3-d1 and needs Sam's help.

This week's statement involved a place called Hilltop Centre branch of the Oxford people's trust. if you were like me and my roommate all your lore alert bells started ringing the moment Hilltop was mentioned. for people who are new to the Magnus Universe Hilltop Road is a major location for avatars (usually web-aligned ones) and also was the childhood home to the desolation avatar Agnes Montague. Hilltop is a big deal in TMA. Hilltop Centre being located in Oxford also lines up nicely with where we know Hilltop Road is located. I'm interested to know if we will hear anything about the house at 105 Hilltop Road being student housing because if that is true then we can connect the statement giver Anya Villette From MAG 114 to being from protocol's world. if that's true there could be a way to get to the Archive Universe through the gap in reality (a wormhole that exists where the house was built) Anyways definitely will have to listen for any more mention of a place called Hilltop in Oxford 

Gwen was promoted by Lena to external liaison and is officially "In" It's time to learn the OIAR's secrets! after doing some research into the job title of external liaison it seems that Gwen is almost gonna be acting as a messenger between the OIAR and another party which is unclear at this time. my guess is it has something to do with Starkwell which was the private military contractor that was mentioned in Episode 4 but that's just a guess and me trying to fit in pieces that have not found a snug place in the lore yet. could be someone else (I'd love to hear your thoughts)

Remember our Buddy Klaus from Episode 4 who we thought was killed by Lena? turns out Klaus is still alive we learn through Gwen and Lena's conversation, that Lena was paid by someone to kill Klaus but failed.

Colin is more paranoid than ever! could be because of the eye or the institute but he does not want to be near technology right now.

Ooh boy that was a lot I'm still reeling from this episode so I'll leave it there for now. honesty I'm most stoked to hear Jon's back in the story and excited to see what role he'll play in Protocol.

Hope you guys have a wonderful week ask box and comments are always open and I'll be back next week for the episode 8 debrief/theory crafting

-Echo

#augustus tmagp #chester tmagp #gwendolyn bouchard #jonathan sims #lena kelley #norris tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp #lena kelly #sam khalid #samama khalid #alice dyer #colin becher #hilltop road #tmagp spoilers #tmagp theory #chester and norris #celia ripley #klaus tmagp #fanart #theory board #martin blackwood #jonah magnus #the magnus pod

[estrellami-1]

Writer prompt: Steve finding out about Murray getting Joncy together & rips into him for helping their relationship to end the way it did. Nancy & Jonathan realizing that their behavior was not only not acceptable but also cruel (esp Jon for taking the photos)

Hello my friend! I actually had part of this already written and I was trying to see if I was ever actually going to post it… and then you sent this prompt which actually (mostly) works! This focuses more on Steve ripping Murray a new one so I hope this is close enough to what you want! ���️

They’re having dinner. It’s a once-a-week thing Joyce had decided on, back when everyone was still healing, when they all needed the reminder that they made it out. Maybe not unscathed, but they’re out.

It’s during one such dinner she invited Murray to. She’d leaned over to everyone else, whispering, “I asked him to be on his best behavior.”

Steve doesn’t know how they end up here. How they end up with Murray essentially patting himself on the back for getting Nancy and Jonathan together, then just as suddenly turning to Steve and Eddie with a wicked glint in his eye.

He’s talking, and Steve’s getting mad. He doesn’t care what wild theories Murray comes up with for him. But he’s targeting someone who’s clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

Eddie’s withdrawing. His hands are in his lap, his head’s bowed, his shoulders are hunched.

Steve is livid.

“That’s enough,” Steve says suddenly.

Murray pretends he doesn’t hear. “Of course, it’s not like any of you’d care about that,” he says, gaze lingering first on Robin, then Will.

Steve stands and slams his hands on the table. “That’s enough,” he says again, louder. He’s shaking. Eddie won’t look at him. He can’t feel his face, doesn’t know what expression he’s making, but he’s so, so angry. “Did it ever occur to you that the couple you were oh-so-happy to finally get together meant she cheated on me? Did it ever occur to you that you only knew one side of the story? That I was fucking sixteen years old and a girl died in my pool. I was sixteen and trying to contend with the fact that I was living in a goddamn haunted house. And I’m sorry I wasn’t enough,” he tells Nancy. “I tried, though. If you don’t believe a single thing I say, believe that. I tried.” He sighs, shakes his head, looks down at the table for a second before settling his gaze back on Murray. “Did it ever occur to you that people should get to make their own goddamned decisions? Regardless of someone’s sexuality, pushing people together is never okay. Regarding their sexuality, you don’t get to take that choice away from them. Regardless of who’d be okay with it. That is their choice and you stripped a basic human right away from them.” He leans over, looks Murray right in his eye. “I used to be like you. I used to think I had to be perfect, had to know everything, everyone. Had to have all the answers. But what happens when you don’t? What happens when you don’t know, Murray? What does that make you?” He pauses for a second; just enough time for Murray to open his mouth. “Human,” he continues. Murray’s mouth closes again. “It makes you fucking human. So let us be human, too. Just shut your goddamned mouth for once in your life before I do it for you. Permanently.” He narrows his eyes at Murray. “I took on a Demogorgon with a bat. I took on a Russian soldier with nothing. I’ve been to the Upside Down and back. Don’t fucking test me.”

The silence is palpable.

“Well,” Murray says finally. “Lovely meal as always, Joyce-”

“Just leave,” she says, quietly, but no less severely. He pauses, then nods and leaves.

The silence is unbearable.

Steve’s chair is loud as he scoots it back. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, making his way around the table to get to the stairs. “I’m not hungry.”

He doesn’t look up at anyone. He doesn’t see Robin, teary-eyed and proud. He doesn’t see Eddie, shell-shocked. He doesn’t see Nancy, crying.

He doesn’t see Will, terrified and grateful.

He sees his shoes as he walks up the stairs, making his way into one of the first rooms he finds. Thinks it’s Will’s, based on the decorations.

He numbly makes his way to the bed and slides down to sit on the floor, back against the comforter. He buries his head in his hands and tries to remember how to breathe.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears careful footsteps. He knows he’s visible from the hallway. He can’t bring himself to care.

The footsteps enter the room he’s in. “Stevie?” Eddie asks cautiously. “Are you okay?”

Steve sniffs, even though his eyes are dry as ever. “Ask me again when I stop shaking,” he murmurs, giving an absent smile at Eddie’s huff of laughter.

“Mind if I sit?”

Steve lifts his head, looks at Eddie. He’s got his head cocked hopefully, glancing at the ground by Steve. Steve pats it, and Eddie’s smile grows. “Joyce is officially my favorite of the moms. And the scariest. She laid into Jonathan and Nancy. But, uh. I think everyone else is okay.”

There’s enough emphasis there to make Steve pause. He knows about Will, then.

He’s brought back to the present when Eddie sighs. “Y’know, that guy’s a real dick. Like, an absolute, grade-A douchebag. But, uh. He’s not wrong. About me.”

Steve glances at him. Watches him playing with his fingers. “Yeah?” Steve asks, almost not recognizing the hopeful tone in his voice. Eddie looks over, and Steve smiles. “Me too.”

Eddie moves a hand, tentatively intertwines it with one of Steve’s. Steve squeezes back. “I can’t- my brain, it’s too-” he waves a hand around his head- “to do anything else. But. This is good.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, squeezes back.

A few minutes later Will pokes his head in. “Steve? Eddie?”

Steve turns a tired smile on Will. “Hey.”

Will blinks. “Um. Hey. Can I come in?” Steve pointedly looks around. Will snorts and walks in, settles criss-cross on the floor in front of them. “I, uh. Wanted to thank you, Steve. For. Um.” His breath hitches. “Just. I know nobody would care? But it’s. I feel like it would be a big deal. But anyways I care, and I��m just. Really grateful.” His breath hitches again, and a teardrop hits his hands where they’re clasped in his lap.

“Oh, Will,” Steve murmurs, squeezing Eddie’s hand once before dropping it and holding both arms out to Will.

Will crawls forward and collapses into Steve. “That was really scary,” he murmurs. Steve hums in agreement.

Suddenly Will looks up. “Are you okay? He- he just told everyone, and we don’t even know if it’s true or not, and then you- you completely shut him down, which was awesome, and you’re kinda my hero, but- are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright,” Steve promises, looking over at Eddie, asking wordlessly. Eddie nods. “He was right. About both of us. And all of that. Honestly, my comfort was the last thing on my mind downstairs. I know the words people use. Hell, I know the words I used, before your brother knocked some sense into me.” He widens his eyes exaggeratedly at Will, who giggles. “And I just thought… it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. Words can hurt, and I’m done with people I love being hurt. Especially when I can stop it. So… I did.”

“You did,” Eddie agrees, beginning to giggle. “You threatened him, Stevie. That was fucking metal.”

Steve laughs then, squeezes Will tighter to him and leans over to rest against Eddie, content. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “You’re okay, though?”

“I’m alright,” Steve promises him.

Will turns to Eddie. “Are you okay?”

Eddie smiles, ruffles Will’s hair. “I’m alright, Baby Byers. How’re you holding up?”

Will thinks, then nods. “I’m okay,” he says. “Um. Jon and Nancy are at the Wheelers’. Everyone else is still downstairs. Are you-”

“In a minute,” Steve answers wryly. “I’m still shaking.”

Will snorts, tucking his head into Steve’s chest. “I think I’ve been shaking ever since he looked at me.”

“It’s the eyes, right?” Eddie asks. “Like they’re looking into your very soul.”

“Yeah,” Will laughs. “They’re unsettling.”

Steve sighs, lets go of Will with one hand, lets it fall onto Eddie’s. He squeezes briefly, smiling when Eddie twines their fingers together.

Will watches silently. “Were you together before he said anything?”

“No,” Eddie admits. “But I don’t think it would’ve taken much longer. We were already most of the way there.”

Will nods. “And I guess I don’t have to ask if you know about me.”

“Why don’t you tell us?” Eddie gently suggests. “He hasn’t taken that choice away from you yet.”

Will nods, takes a breath. Whispers. “I’m gay.”

“Same,” Eddie grins, offering a high-five. Will looks at him, surprised, before clapping their hands together.

They both turn to Steve, who chuckles. “I’m bisexual. I like both.”

Eddie’s grin widens. “Like Bowie.”

Steve snorts. “That’s exactly what Robin said.”

Eddie waggles his brows. “Great minds, and all that jazz.”

Will and Steve both chuckle at that. Will leans back, and Steve lets him go. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For what you said, earlier. And for just now. Um. I’m okay. And Mom bought ice cream and that sounds really good right now.”

Eddie snorts. “Go on,” he says. “We’ll be right down.”

Will smiles and walks out, and Eddie turns back to Steve. “Okay?”

“How many times are people gonna ask me that,” Steve faux-grumbles, leaning further into Eddie. He sighs. “I really think the best answer I can give is I’ll be okay. I really wasn’t thinking about myself at all.”

Eddie hums. “What were you thinking about?”

Steve huffs out a semblance of a laugh. “Honestly? You. You’d shut down, you were staring at the table, your shoulders were curled in, you wouldn’t look at me… and then he looked at Robin, and Will, and I just saw red. Like I said, I’m done with the ones I love being hurt. It’s- it was never about me. Not this.”

Eddie tilts his head. “It kinda is, though? It was about us, and you’re a part of us, Stevie.”

“Well,” Steve says, then sighs and gives up, tucking his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “You said Joyce laid into Nance and Jon?”

“Mhm. Terrifying, I tell you. Like that mom look, y’know? But even worse because she’s been through all this shit and knows all your secrets.”

Steve snorts. “How’d they take it?”

“Nancy was crying before Joyce started. I don’t think Jonathan did at all, but who knows what happened once they left.”

“Crying?”

“Mhm. I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes around the next few days, looking to apologize.”

Steve snorts. “That’ll be the day.”

“I might hang around the next few days. I’d like to see it.”

“I want you to hang around.”

Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Anything more than this, tonight, I think wouldn’t be a good idea. But you could come over? We could sleep? Talk in the morning?”

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie says warmly. “But first, ice cream?”

Steve chuckles. “But first, ice cream,” he agrees, and together they walk downstairs.

So as I said I had (part of) this done before (the last hundred words or so I just added to help tie it all together), so it doesn’t end as nicely as I’d like. I think Nancy and Jonathan absolutely need to apologize, yes, but I also felt it was important for Steve to say that, to stick up for his friends, and to apologize to Nancy, even if he didn’t need to; it just felt very in-character, like he thinks everything’s his fault, so he’d apologize; but he’s also very loyal and protective, so Mama Bear Steve came out the second Murray looked at Eddie, Robin and Will. Eddie and Steve and Will for the win, I LOVE the dynamic we’ve cooked up for them (because the producers are too chickenshit to let them bond the way they absolutely would), and off-screen Robin and Steve have another bathroom moment with her ripping him a new one in the way of “you need to take care of yourself, dingus, we’re fine, thank you for protecting us but Jesus Christ protect yourself for once-” and then absolutely proceeding to smother him in a hug.

Anyway. I hope you liked it!! I may do a part 2 with Nancy and Jon’s apologies but it depends on if writers’ block keeps kicking my ass the way it has been.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #murray bauman #robin buckley #will byers #joyce byers #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #the other kids are there too but they’re supporting characters in this one #(they support Steve. El messes with Murray just enough to make him think he’s losing it) #y’all don’t understand I’ve written the entire fic IN MY HEAD so ik how it ends but getting it on paper??? #nahhhh that don’t happen #anyways I hope you enjoy! #asks #requests #prompts #starambles

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Jan behind the cut; mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

The hour goes pretty quick, either way, and Kon mostly keeps the kids distracted, and even a little bit entertained. He’s a performer at heart anyway, so he figures it’s his responsibility. 

If it's not, he's gonna make it his responsibility, at least for the next hour. 

A lot of people clear out of the camp in that hour in erratic fits and spurts, with alternate versions of their families or friends or just themselves, and Kon feels a little better about the idea of clearing out himself. He'll keep an ear on the camp until it's all cleared out, for sure, but at least he thinks it should be okay to leave it. 

Jon needs–somebody, yeah, before something happens. Something always happens, when you're wearing the “S”. 

Or you just find something that you have to happen to. Like, ethically speaking or whatever.

Kon figures he can keep an eye on Jon until either they all get home or this reality's Superman notices he's got an extra kid around. Assuming he's got a Jon here to recognize the heartbeat of, anyway. He probably does, if Kon's around and recognizable in the tabloids. Like, the timeline should be to that point, is all. And obviously Lois is gonna be a thing, so–yeah, he's gotta have a Jon by now. Maybe actually an older one than this one, come to think, but it's not like Clark wouldn't recognize his heartbeat anyway. Perfect recall and all, and he's had Jon's heartbeat memorized all his life. 

Kon's pretty sure Clark still doesn't know his, but . . . 

Never mind. Not important. Stupid thing to think about. 

To care about. 

Kon swallows. Keeps grinning for the kids, keeps coming up with new games for them to play, and waves goodbye to each one who gets collected by an aid worker and taken to whoever’s come to take care of them. 

He wonders, again, if Ma and Pa would've come for him, if . . . 

Stupid. Really, really stupid. 

He wouldn't bother them with something that stupid anyway. He's a superhero. And he can take care of himself. He always has, hasn't he? 

He'll take care of himself here too, even if . . . 

Even if . . . 

Kon tries not to think about . . . Kara. About Karen. Or “Paige��, or whatever she's going by now. 

If she's still alive to be going by it, anyway. 

If he isn't currently following in her footsteps, and won't ever see his reality again. Or her. Or . . . anyone he knows. 

People who look like them, sure. People who came from the same concept of a person as them. 

But not his own versions of them. 

Not the versions who he belongs to. 

He doesn't know what he'll do, if he can't get home this time. 

He doesn’t . . . 

He feels Rita approaching with his TTK–recognizes the shape of her body and the cut of her hair and the specific chip in the corner of her clipboard–and glances towards her, and is mildly surprised by who she’s with. It’s someone he definitely recognizes, but it’s not anyone he expected. At least not here and now, anyway. 

“Your ride’s here, sir!” Rita says, looking as relieved as every aid worker who’s come up with a local host for somebody. Well–understandably, he figures. 

“Hey, Rita. Hey, Alfie! No rest for the wicked, or just too many cooks in the kitchen again?” Kon greets with a grin, which is the easiest code phrase to use here that Tim gave him to start off with if he ever ran into an interdimensional Bat and the local Tim’s obviously gotta be the one who sent him, and Jon grabs onto his sleeve and blurts: “It’s dark this morning!” 

Okay, Kon doesn’t recognize that one, but it’s definitely a Bat-phrase too. Jon was not particularly smooth about making it smooth, for one thing. 

Alfred–impeccable as always in the full buttling uniform that Kon has maybe only seen him out of twice, and both of those times were blood-drenched emergency situations–smiles at them both without visibly reacting past that, though Kon hears his heartbeat spike in recognition. Since he was presumably expecting to see the pair of them, or at least him, Kon can only assume that’s code-phrase-related.

“Hello, Master Bruce,” Alfred says, smooth and pleasant, and Kon . . . blinks. “Please allow me to escort you and your young charge to the manor.” 

Wait.

What? 

“Uh,” Kon says slowly. “O . . . kay? Uh–thanks, Alfie.” 

“Of course, sir,” Alfred says, and his pleasant smile turns just a little less polite and a little more sincere. “Interdimensionally displaced or not, we’d hate to leave you out in the cold. No matter what time of night it is.” 

Well, “out in the cold” is what Tim told him to look for in response to “no rest for the wicked”, and he’s betting the “time of night” comment is meant for Jon from the way the kid perked up at hearing it, so . . . yeah, alright then. This is apparently just what’s happening now. 

#jan #wip: mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees

[mixsethaddams]

Throwing my hat into the latest trend of Shovel Talk posts. tw reference to past child abuse (not detailed)

Eddie gets the shovel talk from no less than five people.

Dustin, Robin, Erica, Max and Lucas. (Those two came as a pair, as they so often did since the Vecnapocolypse) Actually, technically six, if you count the fact that Dustin kept saying And Will Said...

They all say in and around the same thing. Steve deserves the world, he's been the babysitter for longer than Eddie's been the DM, blah blah blah. Honestly, Eddie's getting a little tired of people assuming he'll hurt Steve and leave him heartbroken. By the time he closed the door after saying goodbye on the final He Means More To Us Than You Do conversation, he was left in no doubt that the kids expected him to fuck up royally and they would not hesitate to choose Steve when (not if, as far as they were concerned) it happened. They would never forgive him. It was good to know where he stood, he guessed.

What Eddie didn't know, was that Steve was getting a few shovel talks of his own.

Wayne was first, obviously. Steve wasn't surprised to be pulled aside at the Byers/Hopper barbecue to listen to some very unsubtle threats about what might happen to him if Eddie came home with so much as a pout Even One Time, Boy, You Hear Me?

More surprising, was Joyce.

Joyce came by one night under the pretence of bringing by some leftover lasagne. Steve offered her a tea and they sat in the kitchen together while she asked polite questions about how things with Eddie were going. When Steve was done telling her all about the constant butterflies in his stomach, she clasped his hand gently across the table.

"I'm happy for you sweetie, I am,"

"Thanks Joy–"

"But you need to understand that Eddie is a fragile boy, and he needs real love, Steve. He's not the type to be happy with a, what do you call it, a fling? He's not the type for that,"

Steve was taken aback.

"This isn't a fling, Joyce,"

"Can you promise me that? I remember him from when he was just a kid and, god, well, I'd hate to see him hurt,"

Steve's mouth was open and closing like a fish, totally at a loss for words.

"Steve, can you promise me that? I know you're grown now and things are different, but I need you to say it for me,"

"I promise, I... I'm not who I used to be,"

Joyce patted his hand.

"Good boy. I better get home,"

And then there was Hopper.

Hopper knocked on the front door of the Harrington house early one Saturday morning, three sharp thuds on the door that made you think, Yup, Cops Are Here.

Steve answered still half asleep, barely aware he'd even pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

Hopper didn't accept the invite to come inside. He noticed Eddie's boots by the door.

"He here?"

"Uh, yeah, has been since yesterday, why? Did someone say he done something?"

"No, he's not who I'm here for,"

"What? I haven't done anything?"

"Good, and I expect you to keep it that way,"

Steve didn't know how to react. His eyes were still adjusting to the daylight and his brain hasn't quite woken up yet.

"Hop, I don't know what you're talking about,"

"El told me that you all know about the night he went to live with his uncle, says he told everyone the basics when Jon was worrying about turning out like Lonnie,"

"Yeah, he told me some more about it after too,"

"Figured he might,"

Steve shuffled from one foot to the other.

"I still don't know why you're here..."

"I was the one who carried him out of that house that night, Steve,"

"Oh,"

Oh indeed. Hopper's voice was gruff and low. Steve was actually nervous.

"I listened to him cry for hours. He couldn't breathe it was so bad. I never wanted to hear another child even speak after having to sit in the room while he told Wayne what went down,"

"I–"

"And I don't think I'll ever be able to sit right with the idea of that kid being sad again, because of someone else messing with him. I never forgot what he sounded like when he cried. Don't make me have to see him cry again, Steve. Do you understand me?"

Steve was stunned. All he could do was nod dumbly. There was no point offering any sort of defence, Hopper obviously wasn't here to listen. He was here to tell. Of all the people Steve might have thought would be on Team Munson, the former chief of police wasn't exactly top of the list. Eddie's distinct lack of criminal record through his teens might have been some indicator though.

Hopper gave Steve a curt nod and turned back down the driveway without another word.

He closed the door and leaned against the wood, letting out a low breath. Eddie appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby? Who was that?"

"Uh, Hopper..."

Eddie huffed a sleepy laugh.

"Hmm, shit, Law Man swing by to make sure I was behaving myself?"

Steve went to Eddie and pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling into his hair. He really had no clue, did he?

"He was just checking in,"

Eddie hummed and went towards the kitchen to switch the coffee pot on. He had told Steve about the shovel talks he got from the kids earlier in the week. Trivial threats about leaving Hellfire and never helping him write a song again or going to one of his shows, taking back his Walkie privileges, things that seemed like the end of the world to a group of minors. Eddie had wistfully mentioned that Steve would never have to worry about being on the receiving end of something like that, he didn't think anyone really cared enough. Maybe You'll Get A Weird Look From Wayne, But I Think You're In The Clear, Golden Boy.

Eddie had no idea about the people that were looking out for him without him realising it. It made Steve's heart hurt. He'd half expected Robin and the others to have words with Eddie. It was almost a joke, he hadn't thought twice about it because he just kind of knew it would happen. He knew they cared, and he couldn't imagine how it would feel to be so sure that they didn't. That no one did.

Steve made a promise to himself then and there to never let Eddie feel like no one cared enough ever again, giving himself his very own version of the Don't Hurt Eddie Munson shovel talk.

It was the least Eddie deserved.

(Also posted to my ao3)

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #my writing #seth writes #shovel talks

[cult-of-the-eye]

LEMME HEAR YOUR UNHINGED TMA RANTS! <3

Oooh I think I've already posted a lot of my rants but one of the characters who I haven't really had a whole rant on is Martin K blackwood.

THIS MAN. This man is so wonderfully written. A lot of characterisations of the "nice one" are quite flat and don't really expand much on them being nice apart from maybe giving the person low self esteem. What I love about Martin is how masterfully it uses that sort of prototype of a character and makes it much more gut wrenching and relatable. He starts off as sort of the office dunce from Jon's pov, which early on we also realise is unreliable. He's the bumbling idiot, the sweet fool and I get it. As a fat person, I feel like a lot of us feel pressured to be the comic relief or to put it more precisely, the one to be laughed at. And he's seen the gap in the archives, he's seen that role that needs to be filled and he's easily filled it. When you have the group of Tim and Sasha and then Jon, the only thing that could unite them is mutual awkward laughter towards Martin. And Martin is used to seeing what's there and filling the gaps, man is a people pleaser to a fault, he has had to guess what his mum didn't like about him and change accordingly, getting it wrong every time. He makes himself palatable which is so REAL especially for a fat person and/or traumatised people.

And then we see this more calculating side of him. He LIED to all his colleagues and his BOSS about a qualification to get a job and then kept that lie going for at least a couple of months. Listen, I don't think it's fair to label Martin as completely a manipulative calculating guy who's just put on a mask but it's also not exactly fair to characterise him as just a sweet, tea making guy who wears jumpers. And that's what I love about him. He's so complex. I feel like it delves into the idea of having both a saviour complex as well as an inferiority complex. He's had to make choices that are above his skillset early in his life and frequently, he's been blamed for causing other people's emotions so he naturally thinks he has control over how other people feel. Which gives him that sense of responsibility, like I can save anyone cause I can control their emotions, if I'm nice enough then they won't be mad/ill/sad/they'll love me. But at the same time, these sort of underhand methods of indirect communication don't resonate to him as causing any damage cause he doesn't actually think he's important enough to cause damage or have an impact on other people's lives

I don't think it's of any shock to anyone that my favourite Martin is angry Martin. It's the part that fights against both aspects of this inferiority/saviour complex because it 1. Is a path of direct communication. He has the opportunity to state exactly how he is feeling and the focus is on that rather than how can I get the other person to respond. 2. It recognises that he is important. Anger is in response to perceived injustice, frustration, annoyance and all of those things are in a way, self preserving. Obviously it's not good to do that too much (see: Tim Stoker) but there you go. I'm not saying angry Martin is perfect or anything but I'm saying that it's so satisfying and interesting to see cause it completely goes against the characterisation we've been given so far and it introduces a whole new facet to Martin - that he doesn't want to be ruled by his trauma and past experiences.

It's honestly a joy to see Martin develop into someone who fights more against the role he's been "given" while simultaneously playing into it. His whole Peter Lukas arc is very much a part of that. Essentially he's saying I'm not important enough to contribute the way you are (inferiority) but I'm still going to try and control things behind the scenes (saviour). So when Jon goes to save him it breaks that, he looks him in the eyes and tells him you, Martin K Blackwood are Important, you make an impact and you Mean Something. You don't have to save us all. It's such an important part of his character arc and honestly it blows me away every time I think about it.

Plus obviously the whole isolation thing is just so AGH it's just so built in to his character it makes complete sense that he has a tendency to isolate himself. It fulfills both the inferiority and saviour - he doesn't think he's important enough to be missed but also he feels like it'll push them into missing him. Solving the problem and putting himself down in one fell swoop.

Our final stage of Martin is one that is far from perfect, far from healed but absolutely closer than he was at the beginning. He shows more of himself, in working towards realising he makes an impact on people, telling jokes and just sharing his thoughts to Jon. So what does him stabbing Jon mean for this? Honestly I'm not entirely sure (I'm gonna be honest I did not realise this rant would be so long lol) but I'm thinking along the lines of this is an ultimate show of acceptance of his significance and rejection of his need to save people. He is committing the most direct act of all, he's doing this in the same need to help people but instead of being manipulative about it, he's just directly doing what needs to be done. But also he's not saving Jon, he's doing the complete opposite. He couldn't control Jon's response to the situation, as much as he wanted to, so he did what jon wanted. I might not be explaining this right cause I'm not entirely sure what I mean either but I'm trying to say it's a poetic end. It's separate from everything he was but in a way that's parallel to and pays homage to his struggles. He's still being sort of a saviour and he's still arguably not the most important person in this scenario but the point is that it's in a different way than he's used to. In my opinion, a better way.

Anyway yeah thank you for enabling me, I didn't know how much I needed this rant and I didn't know I had so much to say lol. <3

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #tma character analysis #character analysis #martin kartin blackwood #martin blackwood #tma martin #tma martin blackwood #answered asks