#godclaws

[boriys]

@godclaws sent : ❛ it’s not stealing if it was mine to begin with. ❜ - max!

The bell to signal the end of the day had rang and the halls of Hawkins high were quickly emptying out, leaving behind those who either had agreed to stay behind to catch up on work or were forced to attend detention. Boris had half a mind to just skip out on it entirely because he knew it would be dead boring, but he didn't want to risk pissing his dad off with a phone call home over something so stupid and time wasting, especially when he only just moved here. Slouched in his seat with a book open in front of him, his gaze shot up when he saw the only other person in the room, a redhead, get up and rummage through another students backpack after they'd temporarily left the room with the teacher.

Stealing was second nature to Boris, though he had formed his own set of rules surrounding it. Stealing from big companies didn't bother him in the slightest, but he preferred not to take directly from other people (unless absolutely necessary) when they worked so hard for their earnings. A batwing eyebrow lifted inquisitively as he questioned the redhead on it, only to discover that what she was stealing had been stolen from her first. ❝ Ah, so you are only taking back what's yours. Fair's fair. ❞ He shrugged, leaning forward to fold his arms atop the desk and across the book, Russian scrawled across the pages that had been left open. He was much more interested in striking up a conversation while he could, if the girl would entertain the idea. ❝ What did you do to end up here? ❞

[corrodeadarc]

the sunlight was peaking through his blinds before hopper finally rolled over to crack open his eyes. another glorious morning... a groan sounded as he heaved himself up and made a staggering trek towards the bathroom. the usual routine ensued as he mentally prepared for the day ahead. it started in alternating order depending on his mood. cigarette, coffee, dressed, pat the pockets for required items, and then out the door to arrive fashionably late to the office. there was one hiccup in his wonderfully flawed morning, and that was when he stepped out onto the porch, his foot went right smack into a casserole dish. the chief growled his frustration as he shook the beautifully baked mess from his boot. "dammit..." his keys jangled at his side as he looked around for the suspect.

of course SHE would be long gone by now. there would be no witnesses to interview (partly because he made sure not to have any neighbors), no clues to uncover. hopper knew exactly who was behind this. it wasn't his first doorstep casserole. quickly changing into his back-up pair of shoes, jim was nearly running to his jeep, dish in hand. slinging it into the passenger seat, he cranked up and skidded down the road towards her house. practicing his rant over the steering wheel, jim puffed on his consecutive smoke for the morning as he hissed out the words. "i ate, alright? you don't have to look out for me. i know how to take care of myself. been doing it for years! i'm a grown man who can feed himself and drink at the same time. well... not at the same time, but I ATE, OKAY?" he ate chips and a leftover slice of lasagna from a previous doorstep dish, but it counted in his mind. he slammed on the brakes as soon as he was in front of her street. careful not to make a scene, he marched up to the front door after closing his jeep quietly. jim straightened his hat before snatching it off in second thought. his hand went through his hair a couple of times. deep breath. hopper knocked and could feel any ire slipping from his body in increments. small, crystal eyes darted back and forth, willing her to appear before he lost all his steam. @godclaws

[boriys-a]

@godclaws plotted starter ( Boris & Felicity )

It was a rainy day in New York City, the rain coming down in sheets and doing little to drown out the sounds of life in the bustling city that never slept. The honking of horns, high heels clicking briskly against the sidewalk, conversations pertaining to business being discussed over the phone. Boris kept his head down and his hands in his pockets while he walked, an occasional wary glance thrown over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed. In his line of work, he'd learned the hard way that one could never be too careful.

Boris was headed back to the Polish club he owned when he spotted a dog wandering by itself, a leash dragging behind him on the wet pavement. His gaze scanned the crowd of people, looking this way and that for any signs that would tell him his owner was nearby, like a panicked expression or repetitive calling of a name, but there was nothing. Feeling sorry for the animal being lost out in the rain, he had made the decision to take him with him (it wasn't very far away - within walking distance, and it was his club and his rules) and figure out where to go from there.

Upon arrival, after peeling his rain-soaked trench coat off of himself and hanging it up to dry, Boris knelt down in front of the dog to check who it belonged to. Employees who were somewhat like family gathered around to enthusiastically greet the animal, questions spoken in Polish being asked about where he was found and who the owner was. The tag read: ' Oh shit I'm lost. Please call my mom. She is ugly crying. Really ugly crying. ' He began to grin to himself, amused at the silly tag, and took out his cellphone to text the given number on the back. Apparently, the dog belonged to someone named Felicity Richelieu.

[ Text ] r u ugly crying right now? :-( [ Text ] ur dog seems 2 think so!!! he is here with me [ Text ] will text u meeting place ok?

After sending off the name and address of the club, all that was left to do was play the waiting game with the dog, Orion, who was surprisingly well behaved. Boris knew that Orion had spotted his owner when, after being curled up comfortably beside him, he got up and excitedly ran over to the woman who had stepped into the building, his tail wagging happily and his tongue hanging out. Figuring that she would at least want to know who was responsible for keeping her dog for her, Boris pulled himself from the comfort of the chair and made his way over towards the young woman.

❝ I take it you're Felicity, yes? And this is your—❞ his train of thought had been totally derailed when the assumed owner of the dog glanced briefly up at him; her striking blue eyes, blonde hair and angelic-like features making the past come racing back in full force. Was that who he thought it was? Felicity Pierce? The girl he had loved in Chicago so many years ago and never had the chance to say goodbye to? He was almost certain of it.

[laidbear]

SC

＂ okay . . . but how do you spell it? ＂ far from the strangest thing he'd ever heard ( hello, his own name may have taken that award ) curiosity was still piqued as bear couldn't help but to overhear the other repeat their name, the question spilling from him before he had the chance to wonder if maybe minding his own business would have been a wiser move. ＂ is it a spelled like it sounds, or did your parents get 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 ? ＂

@godclaws

[shadowbrn]

nancy  wheeler  (  @godclaws  )  said  to  cora  hale  ;  something’s different. with me, my friends, all of us. something’s changed.

cora  knew  the  look  in  nancy's  eyes.  she'd  seen  it  time  and  time  again  on  her  own  .  .  .  within  her  family,  within  her  pack,  nancy  had  the  look  of  someone  who'd  been  through  hell  and  back  and  was  just  trying  to  recover.  she  can't  help  but  nod  slightly  while  she  processes  what  nancy  is  saying.  ❝  that's  trauma.  ❞  cora  attempted  to  sound  supportive  when  she  spoke.  she  wasn't  the  most  mushy  gushy  person  out  there,  but  she  often  tried  to  be  there  for  someone  when  they  needed  her.  okay,  maybe  not  as  much  as  she'd  like  to  be,  but  she  could  try.  sometimes.  in  the  right  circumstances.  ❝  you  guys  have  been  through  .  .  .  a  lot.  it  happens  sometimes.  ❞

[driedflwers]

[ bonnie / jaime / both ]

@godclaws, ❝ why are you so bent on hurting me like this? i’ve done nothing to you. ❞ / from felicity 🥹

‘ chin up, ‘  ‘ voice down. ‘  ‘ it’s not about you ––– is it, jaime? ‘  ‘ oh, hardly. it’s about ‘  ‘ dear old dad. ‘    the dorsets lounge across felicity’s furniture like a pair of orange tabby cats, jaime with his legs draped over an armchair that’s not at all his taste / bonnie with her entire body stretched out across a worn-in couch. they bat their words between one another with such ease that one might be inclined to believe they’d rehearsed the entire thing. ( and who’s to say they didn’t? their game thus far has been a calculated series of machinations, executed with the utmost care. ) their only mistake: felicity was never meant to find out. collateral damage of the oblivious kind.

‘ don’t take it personally. ‘    the next step in their pas de deux: it's just business, to be performed by one jaime dorset. but that’s not what he says ––– not even a little. not even at all.    ‘ sorry, cece. ‘    bonnie casts him a derisive look from her peripheral; jaime ignores it in kind, brows creased in a mild frown. there it is, then: the second mistake. ( the divider of all men … a difference in morality. )

[boriys-a]

@godclaws continued from here

❝Imposing? Hah!❞ Boris barked a laugh, lips shaping into a wide and toothy grin. Whoever this girl was, she was giving him the impression that she was very polite. It was because of the way she spoke and her choice of words. It was different than most Americans he'd met. More proper. ❝There is nobody for you to impose on. My dad works in the mines, so he is gone sometimes. Is only me at home right now.❞ It got lonely sometimes, especially when he was starting over in a new place and didn't know anyone, but Chicago seemed like it was full of possibilities.

As he listened to the blonde vaguely explain her thought process, Boris gave a slow nod of his head when she mentioned not wanting to involve her parents. ❝Ah, I understand.❞ He didn't even feel the need to ask why her parents would get upset because he was content to simply take her word for it. ❝Parents are terrible most of the time.❞ That was what he could gather from his own experiences, at least. If his dad wasn't gone away for work, then he was often stumbling drunkenly around the house and flying off the handle with his short temper. Boris learned from a young age that he couldn't rely on him, which was why he had learned how to rely on himself: finding his own ways to school, shoplifting school supplies and food when he could, signing his own report card, and so on. ❝I have lived many places, but most recently moved here from Alaska. Living there wasn't as interesting as you might think. Chicago? Paradise, compared.❞

The small, timid smile that was offered to him was returned, only Boris' was less on the shy side and more confident and self-assured. Hopefully, by the time they reached the next stop, blondie would be able to relax a little and find some comfort in knowing that she could return home without having to worry about her parents knowing that she'd gotten lost. Her eyes were still a clear indication that she was holding back tears, but maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to take her mind off of things while they waited at his place. ❝I haven't read the books, but I have heard many good things! I always thought the lion was very cool. But now I am curious about this character you relate to.❞ He held his hands out, palms up, in front of him -- a gesture that meant please explain. ❝What is Lucy like?❞