#plant hopper

[beausbugbiome]

Aww look at that little popcorn puff with legs!!

[shadydays047]

asfagdgsh

Saw that bingo and I have the same favorite bug (at least I believe he's a plant hopper!!) and I drew him out of excitement (:

Ignore how bad the color matching is, i'm really bad with.. colors.

Also uhm have two more little painting things of Erikson the plant hopper. (Get it? It's because hes a leaf.)

[gr33nguys]

It's really worth taking the extra minute to look at these and notice their clever illusion! So amazing!

Jumping spider mimic planthoppers in the genus Rhotana

Photo 1 by tenebrionidfan, 2 by gancw1, 3 by budak, and 4 by deeqld

[bugsinmyard]

The joy of actively being on the lookout for little things that move is that I would never have noticed this bug before. It looks just like a little leaf!

[coffeecatcuriosities]

This is what happens when I decide to make test pages and then turn them into warmup sketch pages. Oops.

I've been doing high pressure art for a couple weeks now and I honestly really needed a no pressure messy sketchbook day.

[velish]

top 10 animals to live for:

plant hoppers

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[minty-soda]

finally got into planet hoppers lmaoo

and I love it sm (just like inanimate insanity) <3

[tryingonametaphor]

just watched this video on why the women of arcane feel like well rounded characters and i just kept going 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

then i thought about mike’s monologue and how some people genuinely believe that was good writing for el’s arc

like, imagine elora dying and mel needing to hear jayce tell her that he loves her for her to help her friend. imagine thinking that’s a well written character arc for a woman.

if the entire nina plot was 1 step forward, that monolgue was 2 steps back for el’s character. in that moment, her love for her best friend who was dying in front of her should’ve always been enough. period.

this is why i’ll never accept that monologue as a solution to mlvn’s relationship problems. it was oddly placed, badly executed, and framed suspiciously. plus will had to push mike to do it as if all of this wasn’t insulting enough to el’s growth.

i’ll genuinely be disappointed with season 5 if they try to convince me that mike saying ily is what el needed to save max. i trust the writers to not do that because they’ve shown us that the women in ST don’t need men to save them. certainly not with a big cheesy love monologue.

el just has the misfortune of being in a loveless relationship that the audience seems to think is exactly what she deserves.

[ljsbugblog]

a Squathopper with some amazing eyespots, mimicking those of a jumping spider.

Unknown Squathopper (genus Platybrachys, likely P. vidua).

[paladinsbrainrot]

ok i don't think they're going to kill el but i think they are definetly not giving her.... the happiest ending, if you know what i mean

[gayofthefae]

If season 2 were about El and Mike fighting to get back to each other they wouldn't have had El almost not come back.

If it were about Mike and El fighting to come back to each other, it wouldn't have been a decision whether or not should we would.

But she almost stayed in Chicago. And they made a point of her saying she went back for all of her friends, not just him, and for Hopper. She went back for Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Hopper. It was played as big and loving. But it wasn't played as romantic. That wasn't her reasoning and missing Mike wasn't enough to bring her back in the first place.

In the first few episodes of the season, she fights with Hopper about not being able to see Mike. But as the season progresses, we find it isn't about that. It's about not being able to leave. She goes to Chicago and almost doesn't come back. There is a full stand alone episode about her maybe not coming back and she ALMOST STAYS.

If it were some big romantic payoff of their reunion, they would have simply had an obstacle they had to fight to overcome - like Hopper or the monsters or something. But instead, Mike was hoping she was alive and El was considering letting him come to terms with her death and living out her days with her sister in Chicago.

El almost never saw Mike again. It was a very close decision. She changed her mind last minute. It's valid and it remains loving, but in trope simply put...it isn't romantic.

"I almost never came back to you but I changed my mind" in the context of being separated against your will? Isn't romantic.

And similar is true in their separation in seasons 3 AND 4. She does not reach out after her time with Max. Granted maybe she would have, it was a short time, I will give that. But then she didn't get back together with him until the end of the epilogue to our knowledge. She did not run back to him in grief in need of comfort. She did not get back together with him for the familiarity even in that, she got back together with him to keep a piece of Hawkins. Her priorities would not have been the same of "wait and see if he says it" - and he could have done that in a relationship too, as we saw was an arc for him in season 4. Once again, she waited until the last minute - even almost walking away and leaving for Lenora - before coming back to him at the last possible second.

In season 4, then, she did not include him in her plans when escaping NINA. She only noted Max and her friends. Really, this re-established her priorities from season 2. Her intention was to return to all of her friends, to return to Hawkins, and to help her loved ones out of danger. Not to return specifically to him. When he was out of the equation, he was skipped over. She and Mike had a bad fight. And she still loved him just like she still loved her brothers who were also not mentioned, but her focus was only verbalized as being on Max and Hawkins. The original intention of her leaving was for Owens to take her back to Hawkins. She had zero knowledge that her family and Mike (and Argyle) were coming to get her. She thought they were back at the house in Lenora and that she was going straight to Hawkins and would call them once it was all finished. We have no knowledge that she was going to make a pitstop - unlikely given the stakes and distance between Nevada and Lenora.

In season 2, El almost stayed in Chicago. In season 3, El almost stayed broken up with Mike. In season 4, El almost went back to Hawkins without them - this decision being out of her control when it was changed.

Each and every time they are separated, El only makes the decision to reunite with Mike last minute after seeming to have intended to stay apart from him. Their reunions are always so sweet. But they are never her goal.

She came back for Will.

She came back in her grief over Hopper and leaving Hawkins.

She came back for Max.

The key question ever time she reunites with Mike is: does the story stop there? Or does she do something very important next?

Mike always a sweet stop on her way to her goal. He is never "the point". He is a part of her life as many other people are. But he is not her life and he is not why she comes back.

[stormvanari]

revisiting my Loonatics OCs in the basement

for note of who’s who:

• Merrie M Frog (Blue)

• Terran Hopper (Brown)

• Onyx Vulture (Black)

• Cosma Martian (Gray)

• Fabrette Pussycat (White)

[royal-they]

some stranger things characters in outfits i have/based off outfits i have i did awhile back...

:) (el borrowed mikes jacket.)

[findafight]

Eddie's never met a Jedi. Of course he hasn't. But he's seen a Jedi, way back during the clone wars, when a battalion had helped after seppies had targeted civilian supply lines.

Eddie's pretty sure they were Kel Dor, what with the breathing apparatus. They'd worn tan and woody robes, long and elegant and flowing as they'd weaved between people, helping them stand or tending to wounds.

What had stood out to Eddie, watching this being that was supposedly a fierce warrior of light, was that they...were normal. They laughed and shrugged and cooed at babies, just like anyone else.

That was until the Jedi had raised their hands and lifted a two-tonne shipping crate into the air without so much as touching it. It frightened Eddie, then. Barely twenty and in the middle of a war his planet didn't want a part of. Beings that could lift and toss objects too heavy to move without machinery like they were playthings are not to be unwary of.

Of course. Eddie had spent a lot of the redistribution of rations effort around clones. They'd seemed...fine? While he is no stranger to speaking his mind he had thought well enough ahead that he probably shouldnt ask if they'd wanted to be there. Figured that might get him kicked off the project and he needed the money.

He listened instead. How they called each other things like Spoon and Duck and Trinity and Loopback as though they were names. Maybe they were. Eddie didn't know and didn't want to ask at the time.

But the Clones had been friendly, if formal. They spoke of their general with fondness and respect and a tinge of awe that felt appropriate to seeing what a Jedi was capable of frequently.

Eddie had liked them.

And then Empire Day came, and the Jedi were declared traitors and the galaxy as he knew it fell apart.

It never made much sense, from what Eddie had seen, for the Clones to kill the Jedi. But nobody asked Eddie, so Eddie didn't say. He did get sucked into the Rebellion though, and heard rumours about mind control and sith and a dozen other things.

So no. Eddie had never met a Jedi. But he'd seen one.

Chrissy had spoken about the rumoured Jedi (or-- not-jedi? She said they often refused the title) that stayed in the small Rebel enclave they've been helping. There were two, apparently. She'd met them, even, during a debrief where she'd been discussing how to better use their resources to help her contacts on the Freedom Trail. They'd barrelled in and spoken in such a way that Chrissy would have swore they were of the same mind, had they not been on opposite ends of the room.

"they were polite." Chrissy said, headtail twitching. "For people who interrupted an important meeting." Eddie'd laughed. "One, the Balosar man, he was very insistent that we delay our plans. The other, I think she was human? It's hard to tell, said the force was calling to them and very insistent about it during meditation."

"seriously? And the generals did it?"

"oh no. They argued for another twenty minutes before the not-Jedi threw up their arms and said, in unison Eddie!, 'The shipment will be lost if you go ahead with it. Better late than never, pricks.' and walked out."

So. On an abstract level, Eddie knew that whenever he entered the hangar bay to run maintenance or completely rebuild a ship, there was a chance for him to meet a former? Jedi.

He'd gotten well acquainted with a group of teenagers there, ones who were friends with the younger brother of the heir apparent to the region they were in and liked the make-believe games he ran in his off hours. But he never really thought about the Jedi that supposedly haunted the base until a woman shouted for Dustin, a rodian who was part of his little sheepies and had literal stars in his eyes when Eddie spoke, to come over. Dustin, the betrayer, jumped up and dashed off without even a word of goodbye.

"okay, so the head mechanic needs this-" she gestures to a small smuggling freighter that had seen far better days "hunk of junk out of the way so they can start work on a couple of x-wings. Steve and I figured we could help her out and get you to work on control of larger objects."

Eddie meandered casually over. Just to watch. Just to...see.

Dustin bounced on his feet. "Really? Woah! Where are we putting it?"

She pointed up, to the open vertical entry doors that created the roof of the hanger. "Steve's up there, he'll make sure if your control slips we don't crush the ship or anyone on the floor once you get it high, and he'll get it out and place it where it's supposed to go. I'll be here with you so you don't hurt yourself."

"I'm not gonna hurt myself."

She patted his head "yeah. Cuz I'm right here making sure."

"uhg. Almost wish I never learned you guys used to be Jedi."

"and who would train you then? No one. You and El would be sad little tooka kits all on your lonesome." She raised her voice to yell at the roof, "you ready Stevie?" and it should not have been loud enough to carry, the tone of an after thought, as though she already knew the answer and the question was just for the spectators, but the figure silhouetted waved.

Then, Dustin took a steadying breath, raised his arms, and closed his eyes. Slowly, the ship in front of him groaned and rose up. A crowd had formed, watching a magic thought extinct.

The woman's eyes darted between Dustin and the freighter, one hand loosely outstretched. It occurred to Eddie that neither wore the tunics and robes of Jedi. Dustin ran around in the mismatched pants and shirts of the Rebels' donations, while the woman wore deep greens. There were no dramatic sleeves that swished when they moved, just slightly loose fabric fastened by a belt and holster. He wonders if she ever wore them.

Dustin struggled for a moment, the ship quivering ten feet up, and the woman tensed slightly before he loosened. Eyes open, she deftly moved her arms up with the ship following, an ease in her movements that Dustin lacked. When she dropped her arms as well, the freighter stayed moving upwards, the other not-Jedi, Steve, likely taking over.

"good work for your first go." She said, draping an arm casually over Dustin's shoulders.

"I barely got it off the ground! Don't patronize me, Robin."

Eddie stepped in "considering I wouldn't even be able to move it sideways an inch, I'd say you did pretty well, Dustin."

The kid spun, just as the light comes shining back through as Steve maneuvered the ship out of the hangar. "Eddie! You saw?"

He scoffed "uh. Yes? Why didn't you tell me this is what you did when Im not around"

The woman-Robin, Eddie supposed, tensed. "It's not particularly safe to boast about it. Especially when it's not clear if you're alone."

Ah. Yeah. That did make sense. "Then why practice in a hangar with two dozen people around?"

She shrugged, and looked up. Eddie followed her sightlines and "wait is he gonna-" just as the figure that must be Steve launched himself off the edge of the open roof and towards them. He landed, he's leather jacket flapping behind him, and stood straight, grinning.

Robin laughed. "You'll give someone a heart attack one of these days, Steve."

"eh. No one's died so far."

Dustin smiled too "I'm getting pretty good at my controlled falls too! Oh, Steve, this is Eddie!"

And then Steve turned his gaze on Eddie, and his brain may have melted.

Steve looked like a spacer, windswept from the fall and leather jacket snug around his shoulders, two different holsters visible, his pants deliciously tight. He ran a hand through his hair, his antennapalps bobbing, and stuck it out for a shake.

"so, you're the great Eddie Munson Dustin hasn't shut up about? Good to meet you."

"mmhmm!" He forced his hand out to jerkily shake Steve's. Jeez. It was as though he'd never seen anyone beautiful before. His best friend was a Twilek dancer (and spy) for star's sake. He needed to get it together. Jedi didn't date, Eddie was pretty sure. Something about the force or power or devotion or something. He wasn't sure. He wasn't a Jedi. He wasn't a not-Jedi either.

Steve only smiled and turned back to Dustin. "So. Next time you need to let the Force flow. You're still trying to shove it, which never works. You direct it, like changing the course of a river."

"but not," Robin added seamlessly, and oh, wow, that was weird than you Chrissy "like a dam. Trying to block it won't give you strength. You're more..."

"using a log to ensure the water finds a different path."

"to go where you want it to go, do what you want it to do, without preventing it's natural flow."

"you guys are so annoying." Dustin huffed. "You know that? You can claim it's your Concordance of Fealty all you want but I know your freaky thing is not normal for it." He groaned. "But sometimes I feel when you guys, like, shape it. Change it. What the kark is that about? If I'm not supposed to dam it, how do I change it and use it like you do?"

Both grinned "We're older. Master the basics, we must, before attempting the advanced, young one." The voice Steve used was croaky, an impression.

Dustin pulled a face. "Don't quote Grandmaster Yoda at me!"

Robin and Steve laughed, leaning on each other. Suddenly, Eddie felt as though he was intruding. Though they hadn't told him to leave, they were sharing about...about a relative, Eddie guessed. Someone near to them and their almost-dead culture.

"I can quote him all I want, I drank enough of his atrocious tea to deserve it!"

"he's dead. You're going to sit here and insult your dead great-grandmaster, the last Grandmaster of the Order?"

Steve got Dustin in a headlock "while we mourn their loss, and acknowledge the pain of their untimely and unjust passing, we celebrate their memory. Yoda, the old frog, is one with the Force, and while I can wish for his guidance, I can also make fun of his vile cookies I had to eat at lineage dinners all I want."

"pretty sure they were barely considered edible for near-humans" Robin adds. She caught Eddie's eye, and winked. "Who's up for actually edible tea? Dustin can practice his fine control and pour for us.

Both Dustin and Steve groaned. "The kid is gonna spill all over us for fun, Bobbin."

Concept post Dustin discovers they're jedi

[naivesilver]

WELL HELLO THERE 💖 Lemme just repay the favour this is not the last ask you're gonna recieve right now hehe BUT what say you to a littleeeeeeeeee no.2 from the Angsty Found Family Prompts for Archie and Pinocchio, huh? 👀

So, to conclude this absolutely RIVETING round of prompts... Do you perchance remember when I was talking about the eventuality of a certain s2 event happening in Thousand Problems? 🥰🥰🥰

ANGSTY FOUND FAMILY PROMPTS

2. Needing help but being unable to ask for it

Archie feels watched. 

For someone who was recently stuck in a predicament such as his, it should be unnerving, but he's pretty sure he's not about to get kidnapped again soon - his disappearance was meant to serve a purpose, and now that he's been revealed to be alive, he's safer than most people in town. At least, that's what Emma said, and he has no reason to doubt Emma's judgment on the matter, given that she's the one who had to crack the case. 

Still, he's acutely aware that he's not alone. He's lingering at Marco's house because for now, his own feels a little daunting, as does his office; luckily, his friend is more than happy to let him stay for as long as he needs. Too happy, even - he has a tendency to hover, Marco, fretful to the point of being overbearing, though it can be forgiven, in this situation. 

It's not Marco who's watching him, however. The realization almost makes his smile - he hides it, because he doesn't want his observator to feel mocked, but he must admit it's a pretty endearing sight, the poorly concealed red-haired head peeking from behind the frame. “Do you need something, Pinocchio?”

The boy startles, then, his hiding spot revealed, shuffles forward sheepishly, his eyes firmly fixed on his shoes. “No.”

Archie's faint amusement tinges with sadness, and he reaches out to take Pinocchio's hand, squeezing it gently. “How are you doing? I'm sure it must have been confusing, what you've seen these past few days.”

And confusing is a polite euphemism, he adds, in the privacy of his own mind. It was shocking enough to find out that he'd been declared dead in his absence - he can't imagine what it could have been like, to go through all of it as it unfolded. Marco seemed troubled plenty, and he is a man grown, capable of taking things in stride; for a boy of eight, it must have been a nightmare, especially so close to the end of the curse. 

Still, Pinocchio doesn't deign him with a response, and simply shrugs, not looking up at all. Archie sighs, sinking onto the couch to be at a passable eye level with him, if the boy ever changes his mind. “It's alright. I understand. But look- everything's back to normal now. I'm sorry you had to think I was dead, but they were wrong, see? I'm still here. Like it happened to you, remember?”

“But Papa says I was dead for real that time,” Pinocchio replies, his voice small and wavering. “Were you dead for real?”

The doctor resists the urge to hang his head in defeat, instead brushing a wayward strand of hair off the boy’s forehead. “No, I wasn’t. Nothing happened, I promise- it was all just a big scare, and it’s over now. I know it’s hard to believe - it’s hard for me, too - but everything’s fine. You and your father held the fort for me just fine.”

He’d hoped that would grant him a glimmer of a better mood, but Pinocchio seems to sink even further into himself, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I didn’t do anything. There was a funeral, but Papa figured all that out himself. I just held Pongo and kept him away from the food, ‘cause it was people food.”

“Oh, Pinocchio…”

“Lampwick came too. He said it was just to eat for free and that you’d hate that he was there, but I know he just wanted to check if I was freaking out- but I wasn’t. I swear, I was being good.”

At a surface level, Archie would be almost peeved. He’s having the rare, almost unique chance of experiencing something most people won’t, hearing what happened at his own funeral, and he’s sure he’ll have to unpack all of it painfully and methodically, once he can bear the idea of being alone with his thoughts - that a certain rough-and-tumble boy was cracking jokes in poor taste for most of it is just the cherry on top, really.

But he’s not alone, now, and he can appreciate that someone thought to keep an eye on this boy when he couldn’t - and that he can resume his job when it’s most needed, as well. “I’m glad you had your friend with you, to talk about it,” he says, choosing every word with the utmost care. “Do you…want to talk more?”

A stiff shake of the child’s head, as stubborn as it is clear. “I see. Would you like a hug, then?”

Again, there is no answer; but when the doctor opens his arms it’s a matter of moments before they’re filled with a trembling bundle of child, all but clinging to him as Pinocchio shakes with sobs so hard it’s a wonder he isn’t snapping a bone. Archie lets out another sigh, then gently engulfs the boy into the hug, rubbing his back and shushing him as best as he can. “It’s alright,” he repeats, though it’s hard to determine how effective it might be. “You’re alright. I’m here. I’m not going away again if I can help it, okay?”

Pinocchio gives him what could pass for a nod, sniffing loudly now that he’s not trying to conceal his face anymore. “I woulda taken real good care of Pongo,” he says, rubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “I swear.”

“I know you would have,” Archie murmurs, squeezing the boy tighter, and he doesn’t know which one of them is being soothed more by the gesture, but he doesn’t think it actually matters, at the end of the day.

“You’re a good boy, Pinocchio. I know I can count on you.”