#MELVIN FIC

[candyfsh]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . dating hcs <3

by candyfsh

including; dallas winston, melvin moody, richie white (those are my favs)

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dallas winston ౨ৎ

𖦹 ik everybody says that dally would be suuuper toxic and a rlly bad boyfriend,, but hear me out. he would literally hate everyone but you.

𖦹 he buys you things and steals you things, about 50/50

𖦹 he isn't one for cuddling or anything but he'll definitely play with your hair and hold your head gently if you're snuggled beside him or on his chest💔

𖦹 he isn't huge on pda,, but he always keeps an arm around you or kisses your face and head and lips constantly

𖦹 he also uses extra pda at parties. just letting everyone know you're dating him 😊😊

𖦹 he will NOT ever let you put makeup on him, but he does let you put chapstick on for him. he likes how gentle you are even if it's just chapstick 😓

𖦹 always brags about you

𖦹 "yeah man that's cool but my gf is soooo hot 😝"

𖦹 he likes to go over to your house whenever he can because you make him feel safe

𖦹 he won't admit that though. never.

𖦹 but it's also lowk obvious?? bc he's always hanging around you and making sure you're close to him

𖦹 im being so fr he thought he wouldn't trust or love anyone again after sylvia then BOOM he met you and he's like OMG.

melvin moody ౨ৎ

𖦹 he loves you and makes it known omg

𖦹 like ofc he cares about his reputation?? he js loves you sooooo much and whenever he sees you he's like woah that's my gf!!!

𖦹 when you're sitting next to each other literally anywhere, he has to be touching you just to like confirm you're there or something???

𖦹 he's holding your hand, his arm is around your shoulder, his hand is in your lap, your head is on his shoulder, he's playing with your hair, his arm is around your waist, whateves!!! he just loves touching you

𖦹 he's still a tough guy ofc,,, but in school, it's kinda like lowkey slowed down

𖦹 but he'll still punch someone if they made you uncomfortable whatsoever

𖦹 i personally think moody would be big on cuddling 😙

𖦹 he loves to spoon you omg!!!

𖦹 moody feels like he can truly be himself around you (including letting his hair not be greased up. you love to see his hair ungreased)

𖦹 he gets you gifts sometimes with the money he's gotten from kids but he refuses to EVER tell you where he got the money

𖦹 PET NAMES PET NAMES PET NAMES!!! 💗💗💗

𖦹 "baby" "sweetie" "hottie" "cutie" everything.

𖦹 you and moody are literally so in love and so adorable and all his friends tease him about being so whipped but he's all like "damn right i am"

richie white ౨ৎ

𖦹 this little baby is so cute and loves you sm

𖦹 my personal hc is that richie has never had a gf,, he just flirts with every girl he sees

𖦹 so you're basically each other's first everything in a relationship. it's really sweet💔.

𖦹 he alwaayyyss brags to you about a new crime he committed. especially the time he broke into a bike shop.

𖦹 whenever some girl flirts with him in the rec center he's all like "yeah yeahh i got a beautiful girl i ain't interested"

𖦹 AND YES HE REFERS TO YOU AS HIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL ALWAYS 😖😖

𖦹 "ysee my beautiful girl over there??" "she's my beautiful girl" "i got the most beautiful girl ever"

𖦹 bc this is his first relationship that's more than just kissing and flirting, he wants to prove himself to you that he's more than a juvenile delinquent

𖦹 (but he'll never stop being one)

𖦹 he doesn't know what to do for dates so he takes you to the rec or a walk around town or his lil spot with carl

𖦹 speaking of carl, he's sooooo sick of hearing about you

𖦹 y/n this y/n that,,, my man richie just loves you!!!

𖦹 btw he calls you the dumbest pet names in public to tease you, like sugarplum and honeybee

𖦹 he will never get over the fact that YOU chose HIM of all people. like he's confident in himself,, he's just like "omg she's so perfect why is she with me"

𖦹 that's why he makes sure to never take you for granted

𖦹 if richie has his hands anywhere on you, his hand is probably in your back pocket. not like in a perverted way or anything,, he just likes it there 😙😙

𖦹 his arms are almost always around your shoulders too

𖦹 he's very touchy

𖦹 you + richie = forever

[frank1nsaint]

Franklin Part 3

Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word

“Why you been dodging me?” Franklin asks you as soon as you open the door to your house 

You step out “I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

“Oh so those pages and calls to your phone?” he points towards the inside of your house “They didn't happen?” 

You shrug “I don't know maybe you dialed the wrong number” you had no plan to explain to him why you hoped he would just take the hint and let you be, it had been 3 weeks since your first date

He throws his hands up “Come on Y/N what happened? We were just good not too long ago I was gonna take you on another date’n shit” 

“I don’t think we would be good for each other Franklin” 

“Why you say that? we just talked about you not sabotaging” he points between both of you “this” 

“Im not” 

He leans in “You are” he argues 

“Franklin we aren’t good for each other just accept that” you state matter of factly before you turn to go in

He grabs your arm gently “Nah you owe me an explanation” 

“I don’t!” you answer defiantly snatching your arm away

“Yes the fuck you do. I’m puttin’ my best foot forward and you fuckin’ it up on purpose cuz of what? you fucking scared of the shit I do? Aint nobody gon touch you Y/N they dont touch Wanda  and her dope head ass what make you think they gon fuck withchu?”

You sigh “Franklin” 

“Nah fuck that Y/N” 

“You really wanna know?”

He nods “Yes I do, enlighten me” 

You pause “I can’t trust you Franklin”  

His face holds a confused look “What are you even...?” 

“After our date, some of your henchmen came up to me. Guess what they said to me?”

Franklin held his breath he feels his heart beat start to increase. You start to mock the mannerisms and voice of the men “shit I heard you and my boy Saint had a date last night” He shrugs “So i told them we went on a date big deal”  praying that's where the story ends 

You continue “Men I lost my $200 and my boy came up on a smooth couple grand” you pause and look at him “ha-ha my man Saint he a G tho” you return to a normal voice “then he proceeds to tell me that there was a bet between you and your fucking crew, you got two grand if i actually went on a date with you?” you scoff “if you were that hard up for money Saint all you had to do was ask I could have given you that and we wouldn’t be having this conversation” 

“Y/N let me explain” this was not as it seemed 

“Not even 24 hours passed after our date and I’m hearing you went rounding up your niggas so they could pay you!" you paused "And OH! if I fucked you it would have been an additional $3000”  you say sarcastically

“Y/N” he calls

You start mocking another guy “My girl Y/N, my sunshiiinneee yo yo yo shit if i had known all i had to do was ask you all proper and shit you would be my girl now. May I take you to dinner Y/N, miss congeniality” you tilt your head “they said you looked pretty in that green dress last night wish it was me instead of that nigga!” 

“Who approached you?” he asked with a deep scowl on his face.  

“I’ll give you that Saint. You played me good. You played a good game” you begin to walk away 

“Hold up, hold up, hold up,  who came up to you?” He asked again You return his mug “I’m not telling you Franklin! It doesn’t matter anyway you up 1 grand right?” 

“Y/N listen I will explain later but who told you that? They are a liability to my shit!” 

You shrug “what that got to do with me?” 

“Tell me their fuckin’ names Y/N!” he demands

You sigh “you betted on me” 

“Y/N” 

In a soft tone you say “$2000 for the date, additional $3000 if we fucked, had people follow us, Big Saint, The Man, The Myth, The Legend show you lil niggas how its done” you pause “right?...... Saint?” 

He looks up and runs his hand down his face feeling like his heart was going to explode word for word you quote what he had that night (“show you lil niggas how its done”) “Y/N please just tell me who told you that and I will explain everything” he begs 

“If you wanted the money all you had to do was ask Franklin” 

“Y/N, I don’t care about the money” “But you still made sure to collect, right?” you pause “Then you got the nerve to get annoyed at the fact that I was sabotaging the date!”  you scoff in disbelief and begin to walk into your house 

Franklin grabs your arm “Y/N listen!”

“Don’t Franklin!”  you warn removing yourself from his grip 

He blocks the door with his body “Y/N This aint a fucking game who approached you?! I need to know!” 

You shook your head, you look him in the eye “I’m not gonna tell you Saint” 

He tilted his head and pauses with an offended tone he says “Don’t call me that, I'm not Saint to you it’s either Franklin or any other fucking thing else but I’m not Saint to you!” 

You go to say something else but decide not “Fucking Asshole!” you mutter looking down at your sweater pulling small knots that had formed

He released a deep sigh “Fine I’ll take that but you need to tell me who approached you.” he moves his head trying to get you to look up at him. You remain silent. “Tell me Y/N” 

You shake your head “I’m not gonna tell you Franklin”

“WHY?!” he pauses to gather himself “You know how serious this shit is?” “SO YOU CAN GO KILL THEM?!” “OH MY GOD AINT NOBODY THINKIN’ ABOUT KILLING THEM NIGGAS!” he looks around  and moves closer to you  “keep your fucking voice down!” he whispers harshly You scoff “It’s all good Saint” Almost immediately he sizes you up and with gritted teeth he says “What the fuck did I just say?”  

You feel shiver run down, it shocked you so much that you instinctively jump move away slightly, but you hold your ground still glaring at him before you step away and snicker and nod a few of times with tears in your eyes 

With instant regrets he breaks his stance and takes a step back to show that his anger isn't’ aimed at you. “Just tell me” he says in a significantly softer tone 

“I’m not gonna tell you Franklin, I don’t want their deaths on me because you decided to be an asshole all over $5000?” 

He steps towards “Y/N please”

You step away with your hand up “It’s all good Franklin, I hope you put that $1000 to good use” a tear drops from your eyes “Y/N” “No hard feelings really Franklin, but you know this can’t work ever, doesn’t matter your explanation.” another tear from your right eye begins to roll down “wish you the best in your business stay safe out there” 

“Y/N! No no no no please please please!” he begs gently grabbing your hand trying to stop you but also making sure to not scare you away 

You pull your hand away “Goodnight Franklin” you speak before closing the door. 

He looks at the door for a moment before turning and walking away towards his car. He turns on the car and begins to drive away “FFFUUUCCCKKKK!” he screams feeling the rage course through him as he speeds on the freeway

Franklin walks in and slams the door causing Jerome to jump up from his seat gun drawn “MOTHAFUCKA I ALMOST SHOT YOU WHAT THE HELL WRONG WITCHU?!” 

They hear footsteps before Louie is stand ny the door “JEROME? WHO THE FUCK IS THAT? FRANKLIN!?” she comments frantically looking around for the threat “Not now” he grits out

“NIGGA WHO YOU THINK YOU TALKIN’ TO?!  WALKIN’ UP IN MY HOUSE SLAMMIN’ MY SHIT. I'll FUCK YOU UP!” Jerome bellows 

The phone rings and Franklin picks up “Hello?! meet me at Jerome house, now nigga, YES NOW! Bring Sean witchu!”

“WHAT THE HELL GOING ON FRANKLIN WHAT HAPPENED?” Louie asks “THEM LITTLE MOTHAFUCKAS DONE WENT AND TOLD Y/N ABOUT THE BET!” “WHAT? WHAT BET?” Louie asks

Jerome looks at Franklin like he has three heads “NIGGA WHAT??? YOU MAD OVER THAT STUPID ASS BET?” Franklin took major offence to Jeromes accusations, tilting his head to the side “You laughing but if I can't trust them to not tell a bitch about a stupid ass bet I can’t trust them in my shit!! They gone blow up our spot and fuck up our shit.” he points to his head  “You not thinking Unc” Jerome paused and realised the gravity of the situation 

“What is this bet? And what it got to do with that lil girl?” Louie asked as she looked between the two 

Jerome gently waved her away “I’ll explain it to you later baby just let us be” 

Louie scoffed “Shit mothafucka walkin’ in here slamming doors”

“Louie” Franklin commented 

“Nigga fuck you!”  

Franklin squared up Louie “AYE! AYE! AYE! WE DON'T NEED ALL THAT NOW!” 

Franklin huffed and turned to continue his pace 

In 10 minutes Leon and Sean arrived

“Nigga what happened” Leon asked gun already out 

“We got some rat ass mothafuckas in our crew look how they got Franklin!”  Jerome pokes fun at him “Nigga pacing around and shit over a bitch!” he jokes 

“UNC!”  Franklin warns

“What... happened?” Sean asked confused 

“Y/N told me that niggas from our crew approached her telling her about the bet”

“Soooo...” Leon looked at Franklin confused 

“So?” Franklin returned the expression “You niggas not thinking?” he paused “I GOTTA DO ALL THE THINKIN’ AROUND HERE??!!” 

“We don’t” Sean speaks trying to rationalise their confusion 

“If they running to tell her about a bet, a bet made between everyone in that room, what makes you think they not blowing up our spot?”

The men looked between each other the reality finally setting in for everyone that they could be completely exposed for anything at any moment. 

“Our competitors, our opps, our product,  our recipe, our schedule, our plug, our money, our peoples” Franklin states 

“We got it Nephew” Jerome comments wanting him to not continue hating the feeling of being vulnerable 

Franklin chuckled and looked around at them and in a whisper he sneers “and you niggas think I’m mad over a bitch when I got some snake ass mothafuckas in my crew??!! I GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS NIGGA!!” “My bad” Sean says throwing his hands up 

“FFFUUUCK! Round all them niggas up now” 

Leon puts his hand up “Now hold on its 2am we ain't bout to be meeting without cops spotting us”

“SHIT!”

“Look lets come up with a solution to figure out who them niggas are we start rounding people up they might start snitching even more” Leon strategizes 

Franklin nodded in agreeance “We gonna act like shit aint happen and take them niggas out one by one!” 

Jerome nods “Yea I like that plan!” 

Franklin sighs and sits down releasing the tension in his body

“We got a plan nephew unless you got something better?”

“No I don't.” 

Its silent for awhile with the 3 men (Jerome, Sean, Leon) talking to each other catching up on what they heard or whats going with their product

“Nigga what wrong withchu we have a solution” 

Franklin waves him off “Not now Unc,I’m trying to figure out how to fix this shit with Y/N” 

“Oh shit,” Leon comments forgetting that you were involved 

“Yea nigga, Y/N! they told Y/N!” 

“HA-HA you losing your mind over this girl boy! Now you know niggas talk worse than bitches sometimes. Gossipping mothafuckas”

“NOT NOW UNC” Leon shrugs “just go get another bitch, she aint the only fine girl that we know”

Franklin shot him an incredulous look “I don't want another bitch Leon I want that one!” 

“She not special her stuck up ass I bet if you called Tasha now she’ll literally hop the fuck out her bed and come fuck you” Leon wasn’t really a big fan of you, he thought that you acted too good

“I dont want Tasha, I want Y/N and that thing was a fucking mistake i told you that” “Hell no don’t call that crazy girl up here! Her bat shit ass bout got herself killed trying to sneak in my damn house talking about she just wanna see Frankie”  Louie comments 

Jerome chortles “BOY YOU HAD THAT GIRL GOING CRAZY BOUT LOST HER FUCKIN’ MIND. DICK HAD HER STUCK NEPHEW!!” he blares out a laugh 

Leon, Sean, and Louie join in on the laugh

Franklin ran his hands down his face “We gotta find them or this shit is not gonna last. If they can go run and tell Y/N what else are they doing? Product been going missing lets start there whoever them mothafuckas are they fuckin’ dead!” he grumbled. 

Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize

[rainbow-wolf120]

StoryShots fanfic promo pt 3!! (Extra late)

I had a piece for this actually, but I never bothered to finish it and now it's outdated.

So Boom!! New artwork for an old fic just for y'all <3

This is Melvin and Blu/Philbert btw :3

Lore, hcs, etc below:

Okay, I can't really call this a 'new' one because the fic's been out for over a year now (yikes)

But this is Melvin and Blu! (His real name is Philbert, but I wrote the fic before knowing it so he's Blu now)

Melvin is the orange StoryBot that appears in the intros of both ATS and SAT. I named him Melvin because it was quite literally a Captain Underpants reference </3

(I also heard rumors that it's his actual name now?? I don't know but THE NAME WAS MINE! I CREATED IT /silly)

Blu (or Philbert) is that blue StoryBot that periodically appears in both ATS and SAT. They work in the same department

[This is explained in the note of the story but idk who reads that (or this)]

World building! The Answer Department is in two sections. The Upstairs and Downstairs. There's a lot of questions so it makes sense.

Blu works Upstairs with Hap, his assistants, the Answer Teams, and Rose (who makes an appearance)

Melvin works Downstairs with Hub and Bub (who don't make an appearance) and the computer / technically less direct StoryBots

Blu is one of Hap's assistants and part-time inventor. He's not a fan of his job, but it pays sorta well.

Melvin is a receptionist. He handles phone calls, emails, basically whatever his boss is screaming about him now. He loves his job and is overly optimistic

A sun and a moon! Peak ship dynamic.

I love these two a lot. Sadly, it's the same boat as FrankAda where they don't interact ever, so I have very little content </3

I may write another fic with them. I love them enough

(Yes, both of these characters have little to no personality. But is that even surprising???)

[california-112]

December, 1989

A little pre-canon TXF snippet (~350 words) that I'm pretty happy with, so I'm posting it before I think too much about it. Maybe I'll develop it, maybe I won't. I'm just trying to post more fic rather than letting my 75+ TXF WIPs never see the light of day ;-;

TW for mention of child abuse/neglect but it has a happy ending I promise

---

"So, you goin' out to your parents for the season?"

Mulder laughed hollowly. "Which one?" At Frohike's slightly frozen look, Mulder relented. "I'm sorry, you wouldn't have known. They're divorced. It means I've got quite the choice. The dad who hit me or the mom who neglected me. Hmmm." He faked thought sarcastically, then took a long drink, realising that he may have shared a little too much.

Frohike still hadn't spoken when Mulder put the glass down again, so he made a quiet addendum. "I don't want a pity party. It's just the truth."

"Well," Frohike said, keen to get back on safer ground, "you're welcome to join the three of us, but we're a bit sacrilegious." He made a lopsided grimace. "It's more of an anti-Christmas lunch."

"Don't tell me." Mulder laughed. "The reindeer are drones and Santa's in league with the CIA."

"Military, actually," Frohike said, faking seriousness, "and you'd never believe what he's got in his sleigh."

Mulder shrugged his eyebrows, snorting, and Frohike smiled a little just seeing the younger man's humour. It wasn't as though he walked around visibly bruised, but it had been pretty obvious to Frohike, and probably the rest of the Gunmen, that this kid hadn't had the greatest of upbringings- something in the self-depreciative humour, downward-twisted smile, and ability to shrink into nothing despite being over six foot tall. Now, Frohike learnt part of the truth. Abuse and neglect. Sadly, it tracked.

"Anyway, the lunch," Frohike continued, trying not to dwell on a past he couldn't change, "it's nothing special. We browse the message boards and rip apart old sitcoms over a potluck. Fancy it?"

"Um..." Mulder thought for a moment, wondering if he would be intruding, but Frohike's smile seemed to promise otherwise. "...yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

"The twenty-fifth at whatever time you like." Frohike said, and Mulder was weirdly grateful that he hadn't called it 'Christmas Day'. "Lunch is the main event, but there's Frohike's famous fry-up for breakfast. And remember with what you bring that Langly might feel like being vegetarian."

"I'll add a side of rabbit food." Mulder promised, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

[marias-new-blog-ig]

Funniest Dog Man character gotta be Melvin the Frog because like on a meta scale George and Harold really just drew their classmate and alleged "arch nemesis" as a frog and then made him a character in their comic book (a MAIN character, might I add, if we're talking CKCC), but then on an even MORE meta scale dav pilkey was like "I miss writing about that weird little nerd" so he just made the same character again and put him into a different series

[tstain-is-an-idiot]

The Fine Line Between Hate and Love

Melvin Sneedley had never been thought of as a “creative” kid, despite being known as “that nerdy kid who invents things” by the rest of his classmates and teachers. Apparently, inventing things didn't count as “art”. It didn't mean he didn't enjoy art. In fact, he somewhat appreciated it, even reading the comics created by George and Harold. Though he barely understood most of the jokes written by George, it was a different story for Harold's illustrations. At first dismissing them as nothing more than childish slop he was too grown-up for, he found himself growing to admire the talent and effort put into them as the drawings slowly started improving. The anatomy and linework got better and cleaner, and the colouring went from hastily scribbled (in order to push out a new issue of whichever character the boys had fixated on that week), to carefully inked between the lines with markers, leaving no white gaps in sight.

Of course, he'd never let the two boys know he had taken an interest in their comics (particularly the artwork), instead opting to read them whenever he felt there was nobody around to judge him, mostly in his room after school. That was exactly where he was headed as soon as he'd finished up the last of his extra homework (which he'd stay after school to do in an empty classroom, occasionally peeking under the desk at the cover of the latest issue of Captain Underpants that he'd managed to snag earlier), until he heard something coming from across the hall. Melvin quickly buried the comic deep into the back of his schoolbag. Someone else was still there. He listened. It appeared to be coming from the music room. He discarded his pencil with an annoyed sigh and got up from his desk before making his way across the hall to where those horrible sounds were coming from. Closer now, he started to make out the sounds as some people messing around with the instruments that had been gathering dust for years, in particular the sounds of someone attempting to play the piano. Key word being “attempting”.

The door to the recently re-opened music room had a window, but the thick layer of dust it had accumulated over the years it had been locked shut made it difficult for Melvin to make out the figures darting about inside at a first glance. There were two of them, probably fourth-graders the same as he was, and they were darting around the room, messing around with the various instruments and laughing like hyenas at the noises they were making. Well, at least one of them was trying out seemingly every instrument. The other appeared to be sitting at the old piano, trying to figure out the notes, only stopping to giggles at the antics of their crazy friend. Melvin soon recognised the giggles as coming from Harold, meaning that the other kid in the room was probably George, Harold's partner in crime (at least, that's how he'd describe the two of them together).

He thought about going in there and telling them to shut up (because unlike some people he was trying to do his homework in peace, like they should be doing after school), but he decided he'd rather live with the cacophony they were causing than them finding him and figuring out that he read their comics. He slowly slunk back to his desk in defeat and continued his work, gritting his teeth in frustration. He waited until he heard them leaving the school grounds about an hour later (they sprinted down the hallway, as usual disobeying the many ‘’no running' signs that were plastered everywhere) before he, too, made an effort to leave school for the day.

The next week, it was the same story. George and Harold took to the music room the second the bell rang to signal the end of the school day. And then between them they would play ALL of the instruments in the room (at times sounding like they were attempting to play them all at once) for an hour or so before heading home afterwards. This would become a weekly routine for them, much to the annoyance of Melvin. Instead of engaging with the troublemakers (dealing of them for six hours of the day was bad enough as it is), he opted for bringing in earplugs and wearing them during his after-school homework sessions. They weren't the most comfortable things in the world, but anything was better than putting up with George and Harold for an extra hour every week.

A few weeks later, as Melvin had gotten accustomed to his new homework routine, it all changed. To the surprise of everyone, Harold had shown up at school George-less. Apparently George was off sick or something. Melvin scoffed. He wouldn't dream of skipping school just because he was sick. He was the type of kid who, unless he dropped down dead right at that very second, would not miss school due to something as trivial as a cold. He smirked in Harold's direction. The blonde was moping at his desk, clearly upset that his best friend wasn't there with him to joke around in whatever classes they had that day. Melvin breathed a huge sigh of relief. Today was going to be a doozy.

The bell rang at the end of an uneventful school day (thanks to half of the class' comedic duo being absent), and the kids all grabbed their stuff and left the classroom as fast as they could, because anywhere was better than school (unless of course, your name happened to be Melvin Sneedley). He took a relaxed breath as he pulled out his extra worksheets. He figured he wouldn't need the earplugs, as he assumed Harold would have bolted out of school the minute it ended so he could visit his sick friend. The first few minutes of Melvin working on his homework were the most peaceful few minutes the kid had experienced since George and Harold had discovered the art of pranking. That was how he liked it, just him and his work in complete silence. He could already taste the extra credit.

About ten minutes in, as per previous weeks, he once again picked up a sound coming from the music room, but this time it was different. Yes, it was the familiar sound of the keys of the old piano being pressed, but it was like the person playing the notes was genuinely trying to learn how to play a coherent tune. Aside from the odd wrong note and the slam of discordant keys whenever the player obviously felt that they had screwed up, whoever this mystery pianist was was actually sounding pretty good.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he once again abandoned his work to go and see exactly who was playing the piano. Aside from the few teachers who stayed behind after the school day to grade papers and host extra-curricular activities, he couldn't think of anyone else (besides himself) who would willingly stay in school after the day was done.

The door to the music room had slowly but surely began to lose it's coating of dust in those previous few weeks, due to being in constant use once again. This time, Melvin was actually able to clearly see into the room. There, sitting at the piano, trying his best to play a simple melody was none other than Harold Hutchins. The bespectacled fourth-grader let out a quick gasp before ducking out of sight and comprehending the scene he had just witnessed.

Harold playing the piano? He had no idea Harold even had the attention span to learn the piano, but no, there he was, gently pressing the keys in order to play a short but sweet little tune. Melvin let his breath catch up with him before slowly resuming his position of staring through the glass window of the door. He could see Harold's determined face as he tried over and over again to get his song just right. Melvin caught his reflection in the glass pane as he was staring at the other boy. His usually pale cheeks were gaining a little bit of colour, and he got a weird sort-of feeling in his chest. He quickly dismissed any thoughts he had in that moment and dashed back into the classroom across the hall, vowing that no matter what he would bring his earplugs in and not let some silly music distract him from the more important things he was supposed to be doing.

Unfortunately the next week, he ‘accidentally’ left them at home, meaning he once again had to be subjected to the mayhem of the music room after school. George had returned to school that week, but fortunately he had ditched his assault of the instruments in favour of brainstorming new comic ideas, so Melvin could hear the beautiful sounds of Harold's piano playing. Scratch that. They weren't beautiful. He kept telling himself that he only listened to his piano playing because it was impossible to block out the sound of it, it certainly wasn't because he enjoyed it. He'd already decided to never go near the music room after school again, but for some reason he found himself returning again. And again. The same time every week, just to hear the (mostly) delicate sounds of the piano that stood in the old music room. Was he more drawn to the melodies, or the boy playing them?

With every passing visit, that line slowly became more blurred until eventually it ceased to even exist at all. Harold really was improving each time he played, and for some reason even in class Melvin couldn't help but direct his gaze towards him when he thought no-one else was looking. It's as if the blonde had unintentionally put some sort of spell on him, causing him to gradually notice (and eventually admire) his many quirks, both physical or otherwise.

The way he'd stash coloured pencils in the curls of the absolute mess of golden hair he had. Or how when the light hit them just right, you could see that his eyes were in fact two different colours, one green and one blue, resembling the colours of the globe that sat across the class from them at the teacher's desk. How his face would light up whenever you brought up marine biology, and how he would always end up shifting the conversation towards being about dolphins. What the rest of the class failed to notice, was that just as one face sparked with joy when marine life got brought up, so did another. A freckled face, usually covered up by a book and a mildly unamused expression would light up in almost the exact same way as his vastly more popular classmate's did.

A warm feeling tickled Melvin's cheeks once again, dusting them a soft shade of pink as he recalled the smile of the boy who had somehow stolen his heart… wait, no! He didn't have a crush on Harold Hutchins of all people, did he? One of the boys who was responsible for countless pranks directed at himself and most of the school faculty, and a constant target of his tattling? That would honestly be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to him, possibly even more so than the possibility of being found reading Captain Underpants comics, and yet there he was, blushing like an idiot over him and possibly missing out on some extra credit, just to stand in the doorway of the music room listening to him repeat the same set of notes over and over again on the piano.

George was usually blocking the way to Harold, lying down and furiously scribbling what Melvin presumed to be new ideas for their latest issue, but the ginger didn’t mind. After all, it wasn’t as if Melvin wanted to be closer to the piano.

Although, when George decided to move his usual spot, Melvin couldn’t help but notice that if he wanted to he could enter unseen. Despite their excessive use of the room, they never turned on any lights but one, possibly to not attract the principal’s attention, and he was a rather small fellow to begin with.

Without realizing it, he took a step inside, just barely across the threshold. Just like expected, the darkness engulfed him and the two remained unbothered, too busy in their heads as always. Harold was still covered in more shadows than Melvin liked, but now he was only half hidden.

As his fingers danced across the keys he softly hummed along to the tune, so quietly you would miss it if not actively searching. His singing was soft and melodic, a sharp contrast from his loud and bombastic voice Melvin was used to. It was fragile and delicate, almost as much as glass. The melody itself was upbeat and gorgeous in its own way, which fit Harold in that aspect, he mused.

Heaven knew that he had the attention span of a goldfish, yet he hadn’t taken his eyes off his hands, focusing on it more than he’d ever focused for a test. It felt almost wrong, for the boy to not glance around the room and fiddle with whatever he had on him constantly. Furthermore, his smile was small and gentle, nothing like his infuriating smirk he wore when setting a prank or successfully annoying Melvin.

Before, Melvin would believe it didn't fit on such a person, but recently he observed the same expression when talking about what he liked, sketching, or seeing a friend. Unnoteworthy, but certainly there once you looked for it (in fact, that seemed to be true with a lot of his quirks.)

He hadn’t noticed, but he slowly inched his way closer to the piano, now only a few yards away. Snapping out of his trance, he tightened his hold on the books now against his chest, turning around to leave. His homework wasn’t going to do itself, and he wouldn’t dream of letting some stupid music drag his GPA down.

He tip-toed away, cringing when a book slipped out of his grasp and clattered to the floor.

Frozen like a deer in headlights, he didn't even get to turn around before his fears were confirmed.

“Hey.”

[lewishamiltonstuff]

An actual menace, this guy

Lewis Hamilton Archives (pt 3?)

[thenewcaptainunderpants]

I was really fascinated with the concept of Captain and Krupp “co-existing” in the sense of being in the same space, and I wanted to find a way to keep that up while still requiring them to be connected

I remember at the end of Clash, Melvin was gonna build some kind of device, and what that device did was essentially establish a secondary form of matter for Captain’s side of the brain to occupy when toggling the device on, replicating Krupp’s matter into a different form, which would allow Captain to inhabit his own body and vice versa

This matter would be unstable so it would need to go back and recharge, causing one of the beings to snap into the other after a certain amount of time, and also essentially set the mind to Krupp’s state by default. for example, if Captain pressed the button and separated Krupp, after like 12/13 hours, Krupp would get pulled back towards Captain in a near instantaneous matter and the two would be put back together

[givehimthemedicine]

gentle (elmax kiss ficlet)

El can use her powers to soothe Max's headaches. Max touches a sore spot with a joke about how easily El could kill her, and it's suddenly really important to El that Max thinks of her as gentle.

--

"Better?"

El watches Max look around the room, blinking, giving her time to get a feel of herself.

"Yeah."

She's pushed only gently, probably not enough to ease Max's headache all the way. She never tries to get it all at once. Instead she does a little bit, asks, does a little more, until it's gone.

"Numbers?"

"It was 6ish, and now it's like... 1."

"So, more."

"1's not bad," Max shrugs. "I can live with 1."

El rolls her eyes. This isn't about Max wanting her to save her powers for more important things. This isn't about her powers at all. Max would just rather stay in pain than ask for help.

She's funny like that. For El, Max will walk right up to anybody and demand anything. But for herself, she acts like she's not worth bothering anybody.

El loves Max. She wishes she would ask her for things, so she could see how happy she is to do them for her.

"I don't want you to hurt 1. I want you to hurt 0." She reaches out for her. "Come here."

For the first treatment, she had only put her hand on Max's head. This time, she pulls her closer, bringing their heads carefully together, her forehead coming to rest on Max's temple.

This has nothing to do with fixing her headache; she could do that from across the room, and she has many times without Max even knowing about it. But there is something about that El doesn't like. She prefers for Max to feel involved in it, to be close to her for it. It's nicer to pair it with touch and affection, especially when Max seems to feel undeserving.

El pushes again, even lighter than before, stopping as soon as she feels a hint of that hard-to-define little prickle in her head. It only takes a second, but she doesn't open her eyes right away, nor move to separate them.

"Better?" she asks, not removing her hand from Max's head, because she knows Max likes it. It's not to keep her there. It's to welcome her to stay.

Often, Max does stay leaning against her for a little while. Sometimes it's because she's tired. Sometimes because her eyes are wet and she wants to keep them hidden until they aren't anymore. Sometimes maybe just because it's nice. El likes it no matter what the reason is.

"Better. Thanks."

When they do part, Max's eyes find hers, and then drop lower on her face. She always checks.

"How come your nose doesn't always bleed?"

"I only pushed barely a little."

"Why? I mean, couldn't you just go real hard and then you'd only have to do it once?"

"Oh, no," El says, running her fingers protectively down Max's hair at the thought. "No. I would not do that."

"Why?" Max laughs. "Would it like, melt my brain or som-" Her smile goes away all at once. "Oh. Wait, would it?"

El does not want to say yes, so she doesn't.

It is the same action, really. Done with gentleness and precision, she can ease the parts that are hurting - well, sometimes, depending what is wrong. Done with force and disregard, she can crush and rupture and bring blood out. She does not like knowing that from experience.

Neither of them are bridging the gap in the conversation, and something goes flat inside El. She wishes their talk had not gone here, to either of them thinking about her hurting Max.

So many of the times Max has seen her use her powers, it has been for hurting. Big messy screaming brute force and smashing ripping killing. Max has never seemed afraid of her, and she knows better than to let herself worry that that has changed just now.

But still, she wants Max to know her better doing helping, healing things. Good things. Gentle things.

She thinks of threading needles at the lab. Of her frustration that it was easier to hurl someone across a room than to move a weightless little thing just so. Of Papa's face when she finally did it.

"I can thread a needle."

Max's brows flick upwards a little, and El realizes she has thought pretty far away from where their out-loud words left off.

"Cool."

"Do you want to see?"

Max shrugs. "I believe you."

Disappointment must show on El's face, because Max does a curious little frown.

"What's the matter? I'm not worried you're gonna accidentally kill me or something. I know you'd never hurt me..."

Just as El looks up hopefully, Max adds quietly with a little smirk, "again."

El knows Max meant it funny, but it's honestly the worst thing she could have said. That one extra word turns the sentence from one El would've kept as a warm memory to visit often, to one that leaves her shimmery-eyed and brittle with remorse.

"Hey, I'm just-" the smirk falls off Max's face. "C'mon, hey. I'm sorry. I'm just teasing. I wasn't hurt at all."

El has already apologized about the time with the skateboard. Max was never mad, in fact she laughed when El confessed, but she doesn't understand how much El hates that it happened.

She hates that she can never honestly say the words I would never hurt you because she already has. Literally the first thing she ever did to Max was hurt her, and she can never undo that.

"I wouldn't." El meant to be promising, but it comes out small and more like pleading. "I am good now. I am gentle. I can be."

"I know you are." A concerned frown creases Max's brow. "I- I'm sorry, it was a stupid joke. I shouldn't have said that. I know you're good, El. You always were. I wouldn't be your friend if you weren't."

That is a nice thing to say, but Max just does not know the bad things El has done, before, in the lab. She would rather keep it that way.

El wants to be known by everyone as good and nice and helping, but Max makes her think about wanting to be gentle more than anyone else. She can't figure out how to show her that, or why exactly she wants to.

She picks up Max's hand and turns it palm-up to show the underside of her forearm where the skin is soft, and she touches it. Her middle fingertip ghosts down Max's arm so lightly that it might tickle.

She doesn't know why she thought to show her with her hands instead of with her powers... when that's what she's talking about, isn't it?

Her finger gets to the center of Max's palm and stops.

Surely Max is going to laugh and ask what this is, and El doesn't know what this is, so she stops and awkwardly returns her hands to her lap.

Max stays looking at her palm for a moment as if El has left something there. Then looks at El without saying anything, without laughing or making a funny face. Her cheeks look a little bit pink. Maybe she feels embarrassed, although El can't think of a reason.

El wishes it was easier to tell what other people are thinking about.

"I know you're gentle," Max says. "It's..."

Rarely does El care so much about how a sentence ends. She waits.

Max's eyes drop lower on El's face again. Maybe checking her nose, but El doesn't know what would've made her think she'd used her powers just now.

And then suddenly Max turns away, inhaling deeply. "Anyway! Thanks for.." she taps her head.

El nods, and Max gets up and disappears into the other room.

She touches her nose to check if it's bleeding. It's not.

She had liked touching Max. That's a funny thing to think, because it's nothing new. She touches Max all the time. They're always sitting with their shoulders brushing, or doing each other's hair, or having sleepovers snug against each other.

But touching Max's skin, on purpose, had been pleasant in a way she can't seem to pinpoint.

And she loves Max's laugh, so she doesn't understand why she had been so glad Max hadn't laughed just now.

Footsteps make her look up.

Max plops down next to her again. Her mouth opens like she's going to say something, but nothing comes out, and she stays like that.

El waits.

"Look-" Max says abruptly, like she's interrupting, "I'm sorry I bummed you out. I wanna make sure you get that, like, me being okay with you tinkering around in my brain isn't 'cause I forgot you could squish me like a bug if you felt like it. It's 'cause I trust you. 'Cause like, you don't even squish bugs, that's what's funny. Well, not funny, it..."

El's eyes narrow, unsure, and Max falters.

"I'm not explaining this very..." she sighs, wetting her lips. "Look. I've seen what you can do when you have to. But I see what you do because you want to. And I know that's like..." she looks around the room with a small shrug, "the real you. Okay?"

El collects these words carefully, intrigued by the idea that there is such a thing as a real her, and that Max knows what it is. She wishes she would tell her. But that's a lot to think about right now.

"Oh," is all El says, but a hopeful smile tempts the corners of her mouth.

"And like," Max starts again, and El refocuses, thrilled that there's more. "You being crazy strong, makes it... like.. I mean, for you to be.. um. super gentle, it's like..."

El leans in, desperately invested in that last word being a good word. She watches Max's mouth to see what will come out. "Makes it.... what?"

"It's..." Max glances away. "...cool."

"Oh." Cool is good, but El feels like she had been hoping for something else. What, she has no idea.

Max stands up again like she's going to leave, but her feet don't move. El looks up at her and watches her stare at the floor for a few moments.

"Are you o-"

"I don't mean it's cool," Max sits back down. "I mean it's...." she nods decisively, as if she had finished the sentence and meant it very much.

El looks back intently, faintly mirroring the nod as it goes on. She's sorry that the sentence did not sound finished to her, because Max looks like she would really like her to just understand, and El would love to just understand.

"It's what?"

"It'ssss I like it." She nods that way again.

El smiles for her, but Max sighs like that wasn't the right response and she'll have to keep trying.

She picks up El's hand and pushes up the sleeve of her shirt, and El smiles because she knows what's coming as she watches Max place her fingertips near the crease of her elbow.

Instead of letting that hand just hang loose, El brings her fingertips up to Max's arm, so that as Max begins to trace slowly down her arm, El's fingers automatically mirror the same on hers.

It does sort of tickle, and it makes her wish their arms were much much much longer. That is a weird thought.

Max's fingertips trail down, maybe going slightly slower when they ghost over the tattoo that El doesn't usually like anybody to touch.

They arrive in El's palm and stay there, both of them looking down at their fingertips resting lightly on each others' palms. Knowing that's the end of it but not wanting it to be, El curls her fingers, lightly closing them around Max's.

She still doesn't know what this is supposed to mean, but she likes that Max thought something of it, too. Maybe Max knows what it means.

She would ask her, but Max has just leaned in very close, and it's not a problem except El is trying to figure out why, because Max has never done that before. Nobody ever puts their face this close to her face except for Mike when he was about to - oh.

Oh. She hadn't thought of that.

She looks at Max from too close to focus, but she doesn't want to pull away to see better. Max gives her a small smile. Waiting.

Waiting for what, El wonders. Mike never did this. Maybe it is that their noses are in the way. Maybe Max doesn't know you have to tilt.

El smiles a little and tilts a little, and that must have been it, because then Max kisses her. It's soft and kind of long, and it makes El's eyes close in a way that it's hard to get them open again after it's over.

Whatever had been nice about touching Max's arm, kissing her lips is that way, except, a lot more.

Gentle, she thinks. Max is gentle. This is a much better way to tell someone.

El has never had a kiss like that one, and is surprised at that, considering how many she's had. She's never thought to kiss gently. Not that she kisses hard, she just... never thought to do it any other way but the same way over and over.

They look at each other with smirky little smiles that flit between happy and uncertain.

El is going to kiss Max again. She's going to kiss her so sosososo gently, and then she'll know.

She cups Max's cheek and kisses her again, this time as softly as she can manage, so softly that if it was any more soft, they wouldn't really even be touching.

"Hmygoh," Max breathes against her lips, ending the kiss by making El laugh.

Max's cheeks are pink, and she looks at El with a kind of glazed-over tiny smile.

El nods that nod from earlier, but as a question.

Max's smile spreads a bit and she nods back.

That seemed like it worked, but El is going to try to tell her again anyway, just to be sure.

[bean-pole-art]

Third Time's The Charm

fandom: The Lorax relationship: Normaler word count: 9490 (1 chapter out of 3) rating: T warnings: discussions of depressions but also omitting of such by characters summary: “Have you noticed all those people just going around to the center? All the time today, I see them going around, laughing and stuff, and there are so many of them. Haven’t heard if there’s like a contest or the marketplace got moved to today,” Norma remarked, trying to piece together all the evidence before her. To no avail. She had to cave in. “Do you know anything about this?”

Felicia didn’t seem too moved by it, “Oh, that? Some quirky guy has been performing with a guitar in the gazebo, trying to sell overpriced junk. I haven’t seen him myself but I’ve heard the chatter. You seriously haven’t heard?”

“No… Not really, I…” All confused, she tried to find the correct words. Again, set up for a failure. “A new guy? Do tell, huh.”

Or how Norma met Once-ler.

--

hello Normaler tag, I'm back! dedicated to lovely ppl at @all-things-normaler <3

--

As the last customer left the shop, with her best customer service smile, Norma waved them a courtesy goodbye. Only then her face fell flat on her arms right on the counter.

What had gotten into her, Norma wasn’t sure. Seemed like a perfectly usual day in the bright city of Greenville. People went around, some of the locals, two people she had never met. Those who had ordered books before had gone to pick up their orders. Those who weren’t sure what to pick, heard Norma’s vast experience shine through as she explained to them the plot of the ongoing series. A saleswoman through and through, Norma knew exactly how to pique someone’s interest. Truly, it was a day like any other.

But maybe that was exactly the case. Day after day, they seemed to fly by in front of her chestnut colored eyes. It wasn’t as if Norma didn’t like her job, far from it. Yet the mundane-ness of her life seemed just enough to make her dissatisfied. Or at least, would it?

Wincing to herself, Norma picked up her head and brushed curls from her face. Every time thoughts like these had occurred in her head, she remembered the words of her dear older brother Freddie. Norma, if a rollercoaster was going 50 miles per hour and not 60, you’d yawn. That she couldn’t disagree with. Hence doubts started to appear immediately as she even let those thoughts slip.

There was no use in complaining or succumbing to any of this, Norma knew it. After all, being a responsible adult, small shop owner and someone who wanted to balance out her life the best, she knew exactly what she was doing. So she straightened up her frame, fixed her yellow dress and tended back to the business. No need to dwell on her own increasingly worse habits.

Oh, right, another one. Just this thought made Norma roll her eyes away. C’mon, it wasn’t a death sentence to be quote unquote boring sometimes.

read the rest here!

[ur-localcreature2023]

You know how I write fanfiction…

Did I mention I like making people cry writing angst?

[kissorkill16]

Jealousy: A Lorax Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Melvin is jealous that the Onceler is spending so much time with Pipsqueak.

Melvin just sat near the wagon, watching his human hold Pipsqueak like a newborn baby, and cooing at him like one too. Not that he would ever admit it, but Melvin was jealous.

Ever since the Onceler made a promise not to chop down anymore trees, he's been spending so much time with the hummungfish, Swomee Swans, and barbaloots, especially Pipsqueak. It's not like he despised the little guy, but he just didn't like that his human was paying more attention to him than Melvin.

Sure, it kind of made sense since Pipsqueak was a tiny little cub, but it still felt kind of unfair.

He remembered the good old days when it was just them two. He still remembered the day they first met. The Onceler's father had bought him from a farm far away from their house, and was gifted to the young boy for his 6th birthday, and they clicked instantly.

The Onceler came back to the house to get something, when he saw Melvin sulking near the wagon, and he got a little worried.

"Hey, Melvin. What's wrong? Why're you being such a sad sack?"

Melvin turned away, almost as if he was still angry at his human for being away from him for so long.

"Melvin, what's wrong?"

Melvin still wouldn't answer, he just turned away again.

The Onceler kept trying to come face to face with his mule, and each time, he kept turning away. It wasn't until they were both tired and flopped down to the ground when they were finally face to face.

"Well, we're making eye contact now. So what's up?"

Melvin pointed his head to Pipsqueak, who was now curled up into a ball and sleeping peacefully. When he did that, the Onceler finally understood what was going on.

"Melvin, are you jealous of Pipsqueak?"

The mule nodded his head, shamefully looking down. The Onceler scooted closer to Melvin and wrapped his arms around his friend.

"Melvin, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to neglect you. Pipsqueak's just so darn cute and I get a little crazy around cute things, but that doesn't mean I forgot about you. And I promise, no matter what happens, and no matter who I spend my time with, you'll always be my best friend!"

He squeezed Melvin in a tight hug, and Melvin was happy to have his human back. Maybe now, he could give Pipsqueak a little break.

[bloodcrownedking]

Jesus fuck man I have gotta start writing and drawing again

[aidyaiden]

anyone wanna proofread my byler fic (its absolutely not done) it's abt mike being in a band with max and el, wills an artist and idk theyre gay

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

Going to bed soon, and might not be fully coherent but: TAD - Battle Cries is very fitting for Melvin. It could be a conversation he’s having with someone else, but even more it could be with himself.

Who'll save you when you fall? (Who died and made you king of it all?)

Who wins this war? You've a knack/For applause from the back of the stalls, but you lack The conviction to look at me straight and say yes

I am going to be as charming as possible (because it felt like no one liked me as a kid and I need to change their minds, and I can mask that pain behind money/a smile) and convince them to let me make Perfection better (why do I get to decide what's better? because I know what it's like to want this to be home or I would leave it behind and make my money somewhere easier)

Don’t lie with your eyes, you know I despise that look

Everything I am is a persona. People still look at me like they're disgusted, like I am a stain on the town.

I'm Done with your dreams they won't last

This place will never be home, they would choose a monster over me

(For the person 15-year-old me would be proud to have known)

I just want to be worth something

We were gods/We were kids

[I don't have a clever reflection but come on, does it need one?]

"Come at me, you blaggards," you'd yell ("Come at me, you blaggards," you'd yell from the banks)

[also no cleverness, it's just a more grounded fit, given that instead of just screaming and jumping to make as much noise as possible, when they need to distract the graboids from Val's dash for the Cat, if you listen closely you can hear Mel casually shouting typical high school movie fight taunts like "what? are you scared?" at the worms]

You dragged us both into the darkness that grows (You dragged us along to watch all of your shows)

I was negative, an asshole, and tried to make everyone around you feel as unhappy as I was (I had very little agency and mostly had to stand in the back and watch everything that happened)

(Our devils broke rank, and out of the depths came an army)

...of Graboids. Monsters, the stuff of literal nightmares, attacked our town, coming from nowhere, and somehow we had to fight them, even though we were way overpowered and we should have been doomed.

I won't leave without a fight

[very straightforward] If one plan fails, I'll keep trying until I get what I want.

All it took to unearth in the dust and the dirt Some release or respite from the heat and the hurt Was taking the time now and then to ask how I am

The only time adults in my life talked to me was to yell at me or belittle me. No one ever showed me support or affection.

And now at the end, at the end of all things I'm not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind I'm doing fine

I get the picture now, and I give up. I am the only one I can trust, so I may as well put myself first.

[batbeastie]

One thing I love about Bruce in this AU is just the absolute isolation he’s forced himself into. Before he has Robin especially, the people who really know him are Alfred and that is IT. He cannot go outside during daylight hours. He cannot talk to anyone. He cannot let himself be seen or understood or even comprehended. He made himself into a gun and he cannot be anything else. Other than Alfred, his only real communication is talking to himself. All his windows are drawn constantly so people cannot peek into the massive tower he lives in with a done or something and discover what he really is. Because they would never understand. They would be afraid. And they should. He is fear. He is vengeance. He is the night.