#a few of these are older doodles that a couple of them i just didn’t feel like doing anything with anymore !

[the-meme-monarch]

tha funny siblings

if you ship scc and/or kr/alsei go Away from me

[keeryhours]

zombie movies & first kisses - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x female Henderson! reader

Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Dustin thinks Steve and his sister would make a great couple. They’re both obsessed with each other, they just don’t know it. They just need a little push.

Just first date fluff :)

Warnings:

None, just Steve fluff, kissing, zombie movie references

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N:

Excited to get my first Steve story posted! Joe Keery holds my heart in every role. I hope you enjoy this little fluffy story! Requests are open.

—

“She does not like me.” Steve sighed, scooping the mint chocolate chip ice cream and placing it on the waffle cone. He handed the ice cream to the waiting customer with a forced smile.

“She totally does,” Dustin said with full confidence as he leaned against the counter, watching Steve work. “She has Mrs. Harrington doodled all over her notebooks. I’ve seen them in her room.”

Steve laughed. “For some reason I don’t believe you.”

“Why would I lie about that?” Dustin asked, throwing his hands in the air. “You think I haven’t snooped in her room to find all the embarrassing stuff she writes about?”

“It’s not that I doubt your level of nosiness,” Steve said, moving on to helping the next customer. “I just think you’re lying because you want me to embarrass myself by asking your sister out.”

“Oh my god,” Dustin groaned, getting frustrated with his older friend. “I am not trying to embarrass you. She likes you. You’re practically obsessed with her. You’re both obsessed with each other, really. But neither of you will make a move!”

Steve considered his words as he took another order. “You’re not messing with me? You actually think she’s into me?”

“Dude, I know she’s into you. Just ask her. She might pass out on the spot, but she’ll say yes when she wakes up.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, okay. Maybe when I’m not in this stupid uniform, though.”

Dustin asked Steve for a ride home after he and Robin got off work. Steve agreed, but took the time to change out of his Scoops Ahoy uniform and into a pair of jeans and a shirt with the first button undone before he left.

Steve’s mind was racing as he drove towards the Henderson house, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel nervously. Dustin didn’t miss it, watching his friend with a smile on his face.

When they pulled up outside of the house, Steve was relieved to see Dustin’s mom wasn’t home. She could be a little overbearing.

Steve walked with Dustin up to the front door of the house, following him inside as he let himself in.

You were lounging in the living room, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a rainbow t shirt that clung to your body in just the right way. Steve gulped when he saw you, his heart rate picking up.

“Hey, sis,” Dustin greeted you, a big dumb grin on his face.

You looked up from the TV, a shy smile spreading across your lips as soon as you saw Steve. You worried all of a sudden that you should have picked a cuter outfit, should have done your makeup.

“Hey,” you greeted your brother. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve smiled at you, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of it. He was just so cute, you could hardly handle being around him.

“I’m going to get started on my homework,” Dustin announced before scurrying out of the room before either of you had the chance to say anything. You briefly thought about how it was summer and he didn’t have any homework, but Dustin was always up to something weird so you just brushed it off.

Steve stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before he slowly walked closer. “Uh, how have you been?” he finally asked.

“Good,” you answered. “I’ve been working at the movie theater for the summer.”

“Oh, cool!” Steve said, and he seemed genuinely interested. “Do you, uh…like it?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” you said. It was pretty cool as far as jobs go, you got to see free movies whenever you wanted and your coworkers were fun. “How’s Scoops Ahoy?”

Steve felt embarrassed at the mere thought of you seeing him in his uniform. “Oh, it’s fine. Free ice cream, you know.”

“That does sound nice,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, smiling down at his feet. “Hey, uh, actually,” he began, his eyes moving back up to meet yours, “I wanted to ask you something?”

“What’s up?” you asked, looking at him curiously.

Steve looked nervous, which wasn’t something you had seen very much from him. “Um, I was just wondering, you know…if you’d want to go out with me this weekend?”

Your eyes went wide at his question. “Like- like a date?”

Steve smiled at that - you weren’t outright rejecting him, and you’re just so cute. “Yeah. I was thinking like a date.”

You blushed then, looking down for a minute before you met his gaze again. “Sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Steve’s smile grew. “Yeah? How about Friday night? At 7?”

“Sounds good,” you answered, butterflies in your stomach already.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” Steve said, the grin staying on his lips as he turned and walked back towards the front door. “Later!” he called as if both to you and Dustin, before he was out the door.

You waited a full minute after he left before you grabbed a pillow from the couch and pressed your face into it, screaming and kicking your feet.

Dustin came running into the living room.

“Did he do it???”

—

When Friday rolled around, you spent the entire day freaking out about the date. You started getting ready early in the day, starting with a shower, where you took the time to thoroughly shave, not missing a single spot. You dried your hair afterwards and spent ages styling it until it laid just right. You went with a more natural makeup look, which took a lot more time than it looks like. You finally dressed in a short brown skirt and white top.

Dustin was excited for your date with Steve, but even he was at his limit by the time you got ready. He was sick of you staring at yourself in the mirror and asking his opinion on a million different outfit combinations.

When the doorbell rang, you were still looking in the mirror, making last minute touches to your appearance. Dustin answered the door, a huge grin on his face.

Steve stood there, looking nervous and handsome. He wore a button down shirt and jeans, his hair styled perfectly. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. Dustin just looked at him with that dopey smile on his face.

“Hey,” Steve greeted. “Is your sister ready?”

“Yeah,” Dustin answered, moving out of the way to let Steve inside. “She’s been done for at least an hour already but she won’t stop looking at herself in the mirror.”

Dustin yelled for you as he followed Steve into the living room. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you took one last look in the mirror before leaving your room.

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw you - you always had that kind of effect on him, but you looked especially beautiful tonight.

Steve told you so as you approached, and you smiled and blushed as you took the bouquet from his hand. Your fingers brushed against his as you took it, and it sent jolts of electricity through your whole body.

You brought the flowers to your nose, smelling them - they smelled lovely, fresh - before you said, “I should go get these in some water,��� and scurried off to the kitchen.

Steve could hear the sound of water running moments later, and Dustin would not stop smiling at him like a crazy person. You were back before they knew it, smoothing down a piece of your hair as you walked.

“Ready to go?” Steve asked, holding out his arm for you.

You smiled as you linked your arm with his, and then the two of you were headed towards the door.

“You kids have fun! Don’t do anything too crazy!” Dustin called after you.

You rolled your eyes but laughed as you left the house. Steve smiled and shook his head, leading you towards his car parked against the road.

He opened the passenger door for you, and you smiled at him as you climbed in. You buckled your seatbelt as he walked around the front of the car, and you couldn’t help but admire just how handsome he was as he walked in front of you.

He climbed into the driver’s seat next to you, giving you a quick smile before he got himself buckled and started the car. He turned some music on, quiet enough that you could talk over it.

“So, where are we going?” you asked him as he pulled onto the road and began driving.

“I was thinking we could grab something to eat and see a movie? That is if you’re not tired of movies, working at the theater and all,” he said, suddenly second guessing his choice of a date.

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of movies,” you said, reassuring him. “I actually haven’t even seen one in a while.”

Steve smiled, your words making him feel better. “Well, good. I thought we’d see the movie first so we could talk about it over dinner.”

You smiled at the thought he’d put into this, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. You resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hair.

The drive to the theater wasn’t long, its proximity to the house was a factor in you applying there in the first place since you didn’t have a car yet. Steve pulled into a parking spot, killing the engine and turning to you.

“We have options,” he said, before he began listing all the different movies playing.

“Day of the Dead!” you exclaimed when that option came out of his mouth. You didn’t need to hear any more. “I’ve been dying to see that one.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah? You’re into horror movies?”

“They’re my favorite,” you said, which made his smile grow wider.

“That’s cool,” he said genuinely, and then he was climbing out of the car, quickly jogging to your side to open your door before you could do it yourself. You couldn’t help but giggle at his effort. He was being so cute, a total gentleman.

“Plus I can hold you if you get scared,” he said, grin still on his lips as you took his hand and climbed out of the car. “Or you can hold me if I get scared.”

You laughed, which only made him smile bigger.

The two of you walked towards the ticket counter, and Steve bought and paid for your tickets. Your friend and coworker, Alice, was working the ticket counter, and she gave you a sly grin as she handed the tickets over.

“Have fun, you two,” she said, with an obvious double meaning to her words. You blushed, knowing there would be questions at work. Steve didn’t miss the teasing, either.

He encouraged you to pick whatever you wanted from concessions. You got a large popcorn to share, you each got a soda, and you both picked out your favorite candies. You weren’t sure if he was going to be paying, so you brought money with you, but Steve didn’t even hesitate to pay for everything himself.

Steve had the huge tub of popcorn and a million snacks balanced in his arms as you carried the two drinks to the theater. You were relieved that it wasn’t crowded, and you found two seats together towards the back that gave you privacy and had a great view of the screen.

You got settled next to each other, drinks in the cup holders and snacks distributed between you, and you realized just how close he was. His knee brushed against yours, the rough feeling of his jeans against your bare skin sending chills through your body.

The movie began, and you shared the popcorn, your hands brushing together whenever you’d reach for some at the same time. It would send a jolt through your body, and the way his eyes would dart to yours made your heart speed up.

You were loving the movie, it was just as good as you had hoped. About halfway through, Steve shifts closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. It’s the oldest trick in the book, but it makes you smile, and you shift further into his embrace, which makes him squeeze your shoulder.

You have an even better time watching the movie snuggled up against Steve’s side. You take in just how good he smells, something you had never thought about before, but of course he was perfect in every way.

By the end of the movie, your nerves had gone, comforted by the feeling of being pressed up against Steve. It felt right, like it was where you had always belonged.

“What did you think?” Steve asked as the credits rolled and the lights came back on in the theater. He gathered up the trash from your snacks.

“I loved it,” you answered honestly, standing as he did. “The special effects were so cool.”

“Definitely,” Steve agreed with you. “That part where they pulled that guy apart was crazy.”

The two of you left the theater, dropping your trash in the can on the way out. As you walked together out of the building, Steve reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. It surprised you, but you certainly didn’t mind, holding his hand back and smiling to yourself.

Steve opened the door for you again before he climbed in on his side. You had been chatting about the movie since it ended, both of you having enjoyed it a lot.

Steve began driving again. “What are you in the mood to eat? I had somewhere in mind, but if you want something specific, we could go anywhere…”

“I’m sure whatever you picked out is perfect,” you gripped his hand over the center console, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He smiled back at you. He loved the way you always put him at ease, even when he was so nervous about impressing you.

Steve pulled into the parking lot of a steakhouse. Not too fancy, but not super casual either. Despite the theater snacks, you felt your stomach grumbling at the idea of getting something good to eat.

“They have all kinds of stuff here, if you’re not into steak,” Steve said quickly as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“I’m a big fan of steak,” you laughed. You were already thinking about what you’d order.

You waited for Steve to come around this time because you knew he’d want to open your door for you. He helped you out again, and the two of you walked hand in hand into the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you both with a big smile. “Just 2?” she asked, which Steve confirmed. She led you to a booth, giving you both a menu.

“This place is nice,” you complimented as you opened up your menu, examining the many options.

“Yeah, I’ve been here with my parents a few times, it’s good,” he said, looking over his own menu before he looked at you again, smiling. “Never brought a girl here, though.”

Knowing you were the first girl he’d brought on a date here made you feel something. You didn’t consider yourself to be a jealous person, but you had been jealous when Steve dated Nancy. You didn’t love the idea of Steve with other girls, so the knowledge that this was new territory for him too made you smile.

Your waiter came by and took your drink orders. You looked over the menu for a while longer before you were satisfied you knew what you wanted.

You were in a deep discussion about the movie when the waiter came back to take your orders. You ordered a steak, of course, with fries. Steve ordered the same thing, shooting you a smirk.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Steve complimented when your plates were placed in front of you. “I think I already said that tonight, but I couldn’t tell you enough times.”

You blushed as you looked down at your food. “Thank you,” you said. “You look really handsome. I mean, you always do.”

Steve smiled bigger at that, beginning to cut up his steak. “I always do, huh?”

Your blush grew deeper. You didn’t mean to make it sound like you had been obsessed with him, even though you have.

“You always look beautiful,” he added softly.

That made your heart flutter in your chest. He had noticed you. You always thought he didn’t know you existed.

You ate together, talking about the movie, other movies you liked, how your summers had been going, all kinds of things. Steve made you laugh a lot. He was so naturally funny, and he’d really become more of himself since school ended. He didn’t care so much about being popular and impressing his friends and looking cool. He just cared about being authentic.

When dinner was over, Steve got the check before you even had a chance to see how much it was. You offered to pay half, but he shut you down quickly.

Back in the car, he drove with one hand, intertwining his free hand with yours over the center console. You sang along to music together on the way home, and you thought this may have been the best night of your life so far.

Steve pulled up outside your house, turning the car off.

“I really had an amazing time,” he said, turning to look at you. “You’re so great to spend time with.”

You smiled at him, your cheeks heating. “I had an amazing time too, Steve.”

Steve grinned at you. He placed a hand gently on your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin there.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…” he mumbled, almost as if only to himself.

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t think he could have possibly meant it, but his face and eyes show only sincerity. It makes your heart thump harder in your chest as you look into his eyes.

He leaned in, slowly, giving you ample time to push him away. You don’t, of course. You never realized how kissable his lips were until you were this close.

His lips pressed against yours, and they felt so soft. You practically melted into his kiss, your lips moving against his as you kissed him back eagerly. He led the kiss, being more experienced than you were, you gladly let him.

You could have kissed him all night, you think, but your mom was home now and she’d be coming out to check on you if you lingered in the car for too long.

Steve finally pulled away, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. His thumb traced over your lips, wet from his kisses.

“I want to see you again,” he said, his eyes finally moving from your lips back up to your eyes. “Soon.”

“I’d like that,” you said. You were surprised how weak your voice sounded, you cleared your throat.

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked.

“Tomorrow?” you raised your eyebrows. “Uh…yeah. I’m off work tomorrow, too.”

Steve smiled. “Good. Me too. I’ll come pick you up at around 12, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

Steve opened your door for you one last time before he walked you to your front door. He leaned in and placed one more quick kiss to your lips. “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” you echoed back to him, and then you let yourself into the house, giving him a little wave as he turned to walk back to his car.

You sighed as you entered the house, feeling like you’d been holding your breath all evening. You couldn’t wipe the dreamy grin off your face.

The living room lamp turning on and Dustin speaking nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Tell me everything.”

[athforskz]

Third Times the Charm - Lee Minho

Masterlist

type: strangers to lovers, college au, slow burn

pairing: tutor!Minho x afab!reader

wc: ~4.7k + 4 text ss

warnings: unbalanced power dynamic, themes of coercion, strong language, mention of failing academia, use of pet names, crying, dacryphilia, light touching, suggestive, reader is kinda tsundere, Minho is lowkey down bad for reader. MDNI.

a/n: there might be a part 2 for this one.

Enjoy lovelies!

“Alright, attempt number three. Here goes nothing,” you sighed heavily while taking your seat in the overcrowded lecture hall. This was your fourth semester in University and out of those four semesters, three of them were spent in your personal hell hole: organic chemistry. The first time you took this class, you had failed it, plain and simple. The second time you took it, your grade was passing, but barely. Definitely not enough to be accredited for the degree you wanted. Thus, you were back in the damned class once again to at least get a grade that wouldn’t tank your GPA. If you didn’t, then you could kiss that shiny degree goodbye.

The class was mainly filled by first or second semester students. They still looked young and ambitious. There were only a few students that were from your semester, and those that looked older were more than likely teaching assistants. While observing your peers, the professor waltzed in; the loud slam of her bag echoed throughout the lecture hall, effectively quieting the students.

“Okay everyone, time to settle down!” The professor’s voice was loud, authoritative even as she surveyed her new brood of students with sharp eyes. Yes, you’ve taken this class twice before, but never have you seen her teach it. Maybe she was new to the university? Most of the class was filled with going over housekeeping topics, such as the syllabus, laboratory requirements, and expectations for the upcoming semester. You tuned most of it out with having been through this same song and dance numerous times before for all classes. You huffed with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you doodled mindlessly in your notebook, maybe decorating it would motivate you to study more.

You looked at the time on your phone and saw that it was about 10 minutes before the end of the lecture. You started packing your notebook and pen away just as your professor exclaimed something that caught your attention, “And please don’t forget to use your teaching assistants to your advantage. They are here to help you! Seek them out when you have questions or need someone to study with. I’m sure the TA’s will have no issue in aiding you on your journey through this course. Matter of fact, they will come up to introduce themselves to everyone!”

The few teaching assistants or ‘TA’s’ as your professor dubbed them seemed to look a little frazzled, well all except for one. He didn’t look like he was paying attention at all. One by one each assistant introduced themselves to the class. A couple of them were nervous, rightfully so, it takes a lot of guts to speak in front of a mini auditorium full of students. “Good morning, all! My name is Yeji; I am a graduate student here at the University. Chemistry is my passion, and I will be more than happy to help anyone that needs it. Please, let’s all have a good semester and finish strong!” The woman seemed so happy. You made a mental note to approach the bubbly one that deemed herself, Yeji, so you could make a study group with her. She spoke about the subject with ease and had such a warm confident aura about her. Yeah, she’d definitely be the key you needed to ace the course this time.

The last guy to go was the one that looked less than thrilled to be here, he stalked up to the podium before letting out a loud sigh. “I’m Minho, please hesitat- er.. don’t hesitate to reach out with any problems you may have.” He smirked at the end of his very brief introduction, if you could even call it that.

Was that supposed to be funny?

Even with that horrible introduction you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. Eventually, the end of the class came, and you quickly picked up your bag before the rush of other dismissing students carelessly kicked your things aside. You made your way down to the front of the lecture hall to hopefully introduce yourself to Yeji. It’d be better to formulate a study schedule with her now rather than later. You tried to push through the crowd that didn’t seem to be moving only to find out that the remaining crowd was packed around the TA you needed to speak with. It seemed as if you weren’t the only one that was drawn to her vibrant personality. You had a bit before you needed to get to your next class, so you decided to wait for the crowd to filter out.

Another 15 minutes pass and you can finally get the attention of your desired TA. “Hey! Yeji, right?” She nodded with a bright smile, “my name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you! When do you think we could meet up for regular steady sessions? I’m free most days after 5pm.” You were being sweet and straight to the point, not wanting to waste time. Her face fell, “Oh, I’m so sorry. All of my sessions have filled up so quickly and I’m not able to offer one-on-ones with my schedule. Maybe one of the other assistants can help you.” She was still so polite, even when letting you down gently. You shook your head with a forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s okay! I’m sure I can find help with another. Thank you though.” Yeji offered a half bow before making her way out of the classroom. The other two teaching assistants were long gone by now and they probably didn’t have room nor time to individually help you either. “Fuck… now what am I gonna do?” You whined while smacking your forehead.

“I can help you.”

You whipped your head around to the mysterious voice coming from behind you. It was the last TA that introduced himself. You’d already forgotten his name, and that he was even an option for that matter. “No that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything,” you tried to convince him. He took a few steps closer, even the way he walked was nonchalant, then he looked at you up and down slowly with his eyes as if analyzing you. His gaze was making you feel hot, but you couldn’t let him know that his stare was causing something to stir within you. “Seriously, it’s not an inconvenience. To be honest, I probably have the most free time out of all the others.”

Gee, wonder why that is? Maybe because you don’t take things seriously.

“So..?” He further inquired, waiting for your final answer. You raised a brow as if actually debating. “How about we just exchange numbers, and you can reach out if you change your mind,” he pulled his phone out from his hoodie pocket then handed it to you. “Isn’t it more formal to exchange university emails?” You asked while taking the phone from his hand to enter your number. He shrugged with the ghost of a smile on his face, “possibly, but looks like you don’t mind.”

A snort left your nose after you sent a quick text to your phone so his number could be saved in the contact list. After returning his phone you waved him off without another word. Even if he was your type physically, you didn’t really see yourself ever messaging him for help. You only allowed the exchange to happen to avoid coming off as rude. Plus, you didn’t have any other excuse to blow off his gesture.

Another couple of days pass with nothing too eventful happening. The normal hullabaloo at the start of a new schedule not really affecting you anymore since it was the fourth go-round. However, today was the day the chem course had its laboratory portion. The labs weren’t as big as the lecture hall, the entire class was divided into three smaller groups. Along with doing experiments instead of taking notes, the professor was not in charge of the labs, the assistants were.

You had hoped Yeji would be the assistant for your particular lab. Upon strolling into the laboratory, your eyes were blessed with the sight of the vibrant woman. She waved at you with a smile before going to help another student. You watched her with bright eyes while lost in thought:

This will make things so much more bearable! Maybe I’ll even have the chance to ask her a few questions abou- Oh no… you can’t be serious.

Your lips turned down when you caught sight of his handsome features. The other TA that seemed to not take things seriously. He hadn’t seen you yet as he was busy drawing a rather odd face on the chalkboard. Once he finished his little doodle he labeled it ‘jerumi’ prior to nodding his head in satisfaction as if he were proud of his work.

You sighed with an eye roll before heading to your assigned workstation. You familiarize yourself with the equipment and introduce yourself to your lab partner. As you’re exchanging contact info for future project collaborations, you felt a presence looming over your shoulder. A yelp left your mouth, startled, as the man standing behind you looked down at the device in your hands. It was him, of course it was. You placed your phone down on the workbench to avoid your shaky hands from dropping it.

“Do you mind?” You took a step forward to put some distance between your bodies (even though you liked the brief closeness). “Just making sure you aren’t getting off topic. By the way, you haven’t asked me for help yet. We should probably talk about schedules, ya know?”

What in the world is he talking about?

The expression on your face let him know that you had no idea what he was referring to, “remember I’m supposed to be helping you study? I’ve been waiting on you to text me.” That’s right! You made it seem like you accepted his offer in him giving you study sessions. “Right, right! Totally forgot, so sorry about that. The start of a new semester just has me a little frazzled,” you recovered quickly and even punctuated the situation with a fake laugh. You were hoping by not reaching out he would get the hint and leave you be. Obviously, that wasn’t the case and now there’s no hope in just avoiding him since he’s one of the lab assistants. “How about we talk about this later? I’ll definitely remember to shoot ya a message,” you lied. You wouldn’t remember, or rather you flat out wouldn’t do it even if you did remember.

All he did was raise a brow. You chewed the inside of your cheeks, hoping he’d buy the suggestion. The man retrieved his own phone from a pants pocket and did something on the device. Soon your own cell vibrated where it was set. The ever inquisitive (and nosey) man peered at the lit screen, “you don’t even have my number saved.” You quickly snatched your phone and shoved it in your back pocket. “Uh I- I was just trying to think of a good way to save your contact!” you fibbed sheepishly. “Just save it as my name, simple.” He shrugged like his name was the best thing to ever grace a person’s ears which means you should remember, right?

“Riiiight…” you swallowed thickly, praying to whatever higher power that he didn’t ask if yo-

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

Fuck!

“Of course I remember!” You said a little louder than you intended, now classmates were looking your way, even Yeji peaked over to make sure everything was fine. Your hands covered your cheeks trying to cool yourself down from embarrassment. “Then what’s my name? Go on, say it.” He had a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eye. 

Was he teasing? And why does he look so damn good like that?

You kept your mouth shut and avoided his gaze. Moments of silence passed before you heard him scoff, “Figures you don’t remember. It’s Minho. But my friends call me Lee Know if that’s easier for you.” He spoke so fast that you didn’t quite catch what he said. “Lionel?” You repeated.

“No, Lee Know,” he said slower this time. If you weren’t still reeling from the prior embarrassment, you’d think this ‘Lee Know’ is making fun of you. You simply nodded your head to acknowledge you got his name memorized… you think.

Thoroughly satisfied with having checked on you, he went to the next pair of students to annoy help them. You breathed a sigh of relief that he finally left, and you carried on with your lab partner for the remainder of the period.

About a month has passed and the semester is in full swing. Everything had been going great in all classes, even chemistry. You hadn’t needed much help as it was just the basics and because you flat out refused to ask Lee Know for help anyway. You’ve even successfully avoided all of his attempts so far to talk to you after class or in lab. Part of it was because he was actually helping other students (when he wasn’t acting standoffish, nonchalant, or sarcastic). The other part had just been pure luck, or bad luck since you couldn’t stare at his cute face.

However, you didn’t catch how he was aware of your avoidance. Minho could tell in your body language that you rather not associate with him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Why were you so stubborn in accepting his help? Had he done or said something wrong? Couldn’t be that; he’s barely had a real conversation with you. Or maybe you picked up on how he looks at you or how his eyes go soft once he hears your voice. Minho’s heart rate would even increase whenever he got near you, albeit he hasn’t come close to you often, but that’s not the point. He was utterly infatuated at first sight and had to get close to you in some way and those study sessions were his best bet.

You had just made it back to your dorm when a ding echoed from your pocket. The already slumping bag fell off your shoulder and you kicked your shoes off without a care. Thankfully, you didn’t need to worry about being super organized because you got a dorm all to yourself this year. Your hand reached in to pull out your phone to see who had messaged you. Probably just a friend asking if you wanted to grab food later, but no, it wasn’t a friend. It was Minho.

A sigh fell from your lips as you read yet another message from the man. Damn was he persistent. He would occasionally send a message to see if you needed help, but you would always ignore it. You had never messaged him except for the one simple ‘hi’ when exchanging numbers.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for him to catch a hint?

Maybe, just maybe if you respond to him this time and say you don’t need a tutor then he’ll leave you be. The more direct approach oughtta do it.

Well, that’s definitely not what you were expecting. Now you had a so called ‘study date’ with him Friday evening. 

Was he being flirty or just overly friendly?

You could think of a million other things to do rather than spend your Friday night studying the subject that’s the bane of your existence with your way too persistent TA. Then again, maybe being locked in a room with him wasn’t a bad idea.

The end of the week came faster than expected, which was both a blessing and a curse. Yes, you were ready to be free from school for the weekend, but before that you had to make it through this study session with Minho.

It shouldn’t take long. I’ll just go in there and show him I know what I’m doing, then boom! Home free. What could possibly go wrong?

You made your way to the underground study rooms that were agreed upon as the meetup point. There was only one room marked as reserved, the rest of them open on account of it being Friday and other students having more fun things to do with the weekend at hand. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door. There sat Minho, his soft hair pushed back out of his face as he organized a few things on the wide tabletop. His focus making him effortlessly attractive. You looked up at the whiteboard on the wall to see a slew of organic chemistry reactions that seemed unfinished. Is this what he wanted you to do today?

Minho looked up from his spot and greeted you with a toothy grin, “Y/n, you actually came!”

Why was he so happy? Did he take his position as teaching assistant seriously for once? He’s so much cuter when he smiles.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it for the world..” you trailed off with sarcasm in your tone. You sat opposite him at the table, slinging your backpack onto the ground and taking out your notes. Minho got up from his seat and made his way around to you. You didn’t pay attention to him at first as you were focused on finding a certain section in your notes. Right as you found the page you needed, Minho slammed his hand on the notebook and closed it. “Hey! Why’d you do that?!”

“You said you already knew everything that would be on the exam. So, you shouldn’t need this right?” He waved the journal just above your reach then tossed it to the other side of the table. “Show me what you can do. Finish and balance the reactions on the board,” he nodded towards the dry erase board at the front of the room with a smug look. Great, now his teasing is carrying over from those messages the other night. On top of that, his devious looks aren’t helping to quell the erratic thump in your chest. You stood to your feet while shooting him a glare and stomped over to the board then picked up a purple marker. The marker thumped against your palm as you were looking at the problem on the board trying to figure out the answer.

After a few minutes of thinking you hastily scribbled out your answer. Once finished you turned around with a confident ‘hmph’ as if to challenge him to tell you that you were- “Wrong,” he blurted out while standing from his spot at the edge of the table. Your jaw dropped. “No its not! That’s one of the easiest reactions to do in chemistry. There’s no way I got it wrong.” You protested as he walked over and plucked the marker right from your fingers. You continued to berate him as he ‘corrected’ your answer.

“You’re right ab-“ he started.

“Yeah, I know I’m right and you just messed it up!” You interrupted but he let you finish before he pushed his face dangerously close to yours. You’d have backed up if the table wasn’t already pressed into your lower back.

Minho’s voice was low when he spoke, “As I was saying, you’re right about it being an easy reaction to solve, but you still balanced it wrong. We’ve got some work to do if you can’t even figure this one out y/nnie.” He gently patted your cheek then made his way back to flip through your notebook. To say your head was spinning was an understatement. You weren’t even sure what emotions you were feeling right now. Anger? Embarrassment? Confusion? And maybe turned on?

No, there’s no way he just spoke to me like that! He’s acting all condescending. And what was that tone for anyway? Plus the nickname?? He’s just trying to rile me up..

You shook your head of any other thoughts and emotions before he caught a glimpse of your flustered state. You were now hellbent on proving this man wrong, that you did in fact know how to do easy reaction equations.

“Do you always space out with a scowl on your face?” You hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you when he asked the question. “Only when the mood calls for it,” you answered plainly.

“The mood?” Now his brow was raised. “Yeah, like when someone tells me I’m wrong when I’m not.”

He sighed with a shake of his head, “You aren’t going to learn anything if you’re just going to back talk me the entire time.”

“Well I wouldn’t back talk if you’d explain your reasoning on why my answer was incorrect. Oh, that’s right, you can’t because my answer wasn’t wrong in the first place!” Now you were the one being condescending.

Minho’s eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe if you would shut up and listen, I can tell you what’s wrong so you can actually pass the class for once.”

Ouch, that struck a nerve.

Your demeanor instantly weakened as he stood there and read you to filth. Minho could tell he went too far, and his eyes softened as your gaze averted to a blank corner of the room. “Look I’m really just trying to help you,” he pleaded.

“Then help me, Lee Know.” You sniffled with the faintest of watery eyes. Were you crying? Goodness, Minho sure hopes so. He has a thing when someone cries for him. Minho thinks you look so pretty on the verge of tears, it made him wonder what else you’d look pretty edging, but he shouldn’t focus on that right now. You wiped your eyes with the edge of your sleeve before a tear could fall. Trying to muster up the strength to continue on with this hell of a study session.

After emotions had calmed down, he came closer and showed you how to do the basics correctly. Minho explained that you had been taking notes improperly which made simple things more complicated. Your eyes widened at the realization of how much easier everything became after that.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Minho’s study session actually helped you. You passed the exam the next week with flying colors. Now that you and he know you’re benefiting from the one on one time, Minho had suggested another session after the next lecture as the topics covered would be more difficult. You wanted to make sure you got things right the first time, so you agreed to meet with him again. Plus spending more time with an attractive guy that is secretly your type was a bonus.

Minho managed to book a different study room this time off-campus. You had heard of the place in passing from a friend but never thought to check it out. When you got there it was more of a lounge type of vibe but you appreciated the change of scenery. Staying on university grounds all the time could make you a bit stir crazy. You made your way towards the back of the building to see your personal tutor already hard at work in one of the study rooms. Your fist made light contact with the doorframe to let him know you arrived. 

“Ah, y/nnie come in. Close the door.” He got up to greet you with a hug. 

Touching? That's new.

You were caught off guard by his warm gesture but gave him a hug back, your body heating in the process. It was the least you could do since he’s helped so much. You decided to not put much thought into it as you got down to brass tacks. You sat on the couch in front of a coffee table since the desk in the room would be too small for collaboration.

Minho would walk you through each new topic to make sure you had a good understanding of it. All the while he sat dangerously close to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours. Each time you made a mistake on a structure he’d take your hand and guide you on how to draw it the correct way. At first you really hadn’t noticed, but what tipped you off is when you caught him staring at you instead of the work. Then you started taking note of his lingering touches on your hand or his breath ticking your shoulder. All of this touching was making your body buzz.

Now, Minho was touching your back feening it as just an encouraging gesture but his hand position was low and his fingers danced along your spine. You never told him to stop because you weren’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was making you breathe heavier and lose focus.

Damn, he smells so good.. and that sultry voice he’s using is gonna make me melt.

 A hiss from the man brought you out of your fuzzy thoughts and snap your head towards him instead of the paper in front of you. “Watch where you put that hydrogen molecule, kitty. Can’t have you making dumb mistakes.” 

Did he just say kitty?

“Hey, I’m not dumb!” You retorted but there was no bite in your tone. You ignored the nickname, thinking it was just a slip of the tongue. He chuckled at your furrowed expression, “that’s not what I meant.” 

Minho’s hand came to squeeze your knee then proceeded to rub along your thigh. 

Seriously, when did this man get so touchy? 

The remainder of the study session went on without any major mess ups from you. The only time you did make a mistake was when Minho got bold with his touching. You never told him you didn’t like it though, his hands were warm and who were you to tell him no if it didn’t hurt anything. 

Eventually studying with Minho became a twice weekly regular thing and so did his touching. He remained respectful with the placement of his hands… until today. 

You were sat in your dorm room with Minho as all the study rooms were taken on campus and the place off campus was booked too. Guess everyone needed to lock in with midterm exams around the corner. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get this oxidation method down. It’s so complicated for no reason,” you groaned while throwing your head back. “You just need to remember the steps, y/n. It isn’t too bad.” He laughed at your dramatics. 

“And how in the world am I going to remember it so easily?” 

“Easy. Muscle memory.” He said with almost no inflection. You turned to look at him as if he had three heads. “Lee Know, what the hell are you talking about? In case you forgot this isn’t your dance class we’re studying here. I can’t just pop and lock an oxidation reaction into my body.” 

“Sure you can, but it won’t exactly involve dancing.” Now he looked as smug as the Cheshire cat. You were still beyond confused and motioned for him to elaborate, “Ya know I can get you to remember anything by just making you feel good.” Minho’s voice lowered as he leveled himself to your face. “All you have to do is let me touch you. Whaddya say, kitten?” 

When did he get so close? 

He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. Your brain was fuzzy and still swimming with questions, but your body was already having such a reaction to him. You shouldn’t say yes, but saying no isn’t an option either. You needed to do well in this class, you simply didn’t have any other choice. 

Without further thought you nodded your head in agreement, “Yes..” Your voice came out shakier, more breathy than intended. 

“Yes what? Say it.” He demanded with a stern tone, his hand coming up to hover over your cheek, not yet touching it until he gets an answer.

“You can touch me.” You whispered while leaning into his palm. Your response caused Minho to lean his head back with his eyes shut, a satisfied groan leaving his throat. “Good, now let’s get to work. You’ve got a lot of memorizing to do and I intend on burning it into every inch of your skin.” He placed his hands on your thighs giving them a hard squeeze while spreading them apart. Your skin already felt like it was on fire, but little did you know this was just the beginning.

You had no idea what kind of power you’ve just given to this man but he was definitely intent on showing you. 

Surely it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Special thanks to my honey @doitforbangchan for being my beta reader <3

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

[sugaryplum]

the tale of sugar cookies

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader summary: about how your procrastination got you a first date and a night spent in hogwarts’ kitchen. warnings: language mistakes, lots of cuteness, i made some hogwarts–related stuff up AND I’M SO SORRY TO ALL THE BRITISH PEOPLE. the name “cookies” just fits better. notes: first piece of the autumn(ish) collection, prompt here being baking together. i’m happy with the premise of this fic, i think it’s super cute. i’m a major procrastinator, currently supposed to be studying for the exam i have in a few days so i very much resonate. and i could really eat a sugar cookie right now yum yum

your knee is bouncing. it’s stupid, really. consequences of some of your dumb choices catching up with you. you’re desperately in need of help, but now you try to focus on theo, who’s heading towards your library table.

he says “hi, y/n.” as he sits down next to you and you chuckle faintly. “i get a whole hi? you sound particularly excited to see me.” he rolls his eyes and smiles ever–so–slightly. “don’t acknowledge it or i’ll go back to just nodding.”

you two are in something. you don’t exactly know what it is and can’t pinpoint when it started, but it’s definitely something more than just study buddies, acquaintances or even friends. you’re a people person by nature, you’ve had so many friends over the years, but this, this is different. this is butterflies and hearts all around. this is overhearing his roommates talk about you, calling you “nott’s girl”. you can’t help but blush at even the thought of it.

today however, neither the boy sitting next to you, nor the essay you’re supposed to be finishing with him are the things on your mind.

“alright, you have to stop this.” after fifteen minutes of your mindless writing, theodore’s hand lands on your knee gently. the touch makes your heart go a bit faster. “you will bounce your knee into oblivion.”

“i’m not sure if oblivion takes in bouncing knees.”

he doesn’t acknowledge your poor attempt at a joke and just looks at you. it's the kind of expression that makes you want to tell him everything immediately. so you do.

“you’re gonna think it’s ridiculous.”

“most things you say are a bit ridiculous, didn’t stop you before.”

your problem is fairly simple. you’re supposed to have one hundred sugar cookies in your dorm by halloween. that’s in two days. so far, there are no sugar cookies in your dorm and you want to drown in your sea of procrastination.

theo’s brows furrow. “one hundred?”

“it’s a hufflepuff thing. i’m sure you’ve heard of it.” you sigh, when he looks clueless. “every halloween we give first–years the opportunity to go trick or treating around all the dorms of older students. so the older students such as myself need to have treats prepared for each kid. most of the people just buy some sweets from hogsmeade but i thought it would make an excellent idea to make them myself. i got all the ingredients and stuff but never got around to do it, because the amount is overwhelming. and now halloween is so soon and i have nothing.” you’re almost breathless when you finish your rant, ready to take his scolding. what came upon you when you decided to do this? you had a whole month to go to honeydukes and buy some candies instead.

he’s quiet for a couple of seconds, looking at you the way he always does. a hint of excitement appears in his eyes, as if he got an idea. “i could help you.”

“what?”

“you heard me. tonight you need to finish this essay.” he looks down at your parchment with only the first few sentences and random doodles all around them. “but tomorrow we can do this. bring the ingredients and we’ll meet up in the kitchen. i end practice six thirty, we could start at seven.”

“you think we can make one hundred in one go?”

“nothing i can’t do.”

“that’s not true. but i’ll go with it this time.” you smile. it means a lot to you. not even the act itself, but the fact that he, of all people offered to help you. theo isn’t exactly a person who expresses his feelings easily, he’s not like you. and he definitely is not a person you could imagine in the kitchen, baking cookies for first–years. you thank him and hope he doesn’t notice the red on your cheeks. as expected, he doesn’t answer with anything but his eyes. you go back to the homework, calmer and happier.

time passes and you start feeling sleepy. you tell theo you’re going and you pack up your bag. when you stand up to leave, you hear his voice again.

“so tomorrow? kitchen? seven?”

you smile.

“it’s a date.”

you’re meant to turn around, but once you realize what you said, you freeze and your expression changes. your eyes stare at him for an excruciatingly long second, petrified. but all he does is shrug his shoulders slightly.

“yeah.” not even looking at you. he reacts as if you sky is blue. you can’t help a smile forming on your lips that only turns more beaming when you turn around and he can’t see your face. it’s a date. damn.

being a hufflepuff has it’s perks. one of them is constant access to the kitchen, accessible through the back of the common room. there were so many times throughout the years when you skipped the normal hogwarts’ dinner to cook something homely. or countless moments stumbling there in the middle of the night to make hot chocolate. you thanked helga everytime when you, or your friends got to taste the goodness you prepared.

today you’re also thankful. it’s almost seven in the evening and you’re giggling, seeing as theo is struggling to put on an apron.

“here, i’ll help you.” you tie it and step back, looking proud of your work. “you look like a professional.”

“i am a professional.”

“have you ever actually baked anything?”

“...no. but isn’t it just a couple of–” he moves his wind a few times to demonstrate what he means and you chuckle. he has no idea what he signed up for. “this will be fun.”

you put your arms on the table. “we’re doing this without magic. it’s better like that. tastier.”

he’s not talking for a couple of seconds, opening his mouth as if he’s about to say something. “you’re joking. it’s one hundred cookies. how is a normal, sane person supposed to bake it all in one night, muggle style?”

“that’s exactly what i need your help for.”

“this is a trick, you’re tricking me.”

“not a trick, just my undying charm that caused you to worry about me so much, that you offered me help and now we’re gonna spend the evening baking cookies. you might actually learn something from it, it’ll be good for you.”

“cruel woman.” he shakes his head, but comes up to you anyway, getting a pinch of sugar into his mouth. you give him a scolding look and take away the sugar bowl.

“i’m gonna show you how to make the dough. it’s simple and we need a lot of it, for six whole batches.” his eyes follow you around the kitchen, when you take out ingredients from the shelves. “we need to mix everything together. first, butter and sugar. then flour.” you start mixing things in a big bowl with a spatula, stealing a few glances at the boy in front of you. he’s smiling.

four batches of cookies later, fifth one in the oven, theo really gets into it. at first he seemed skeptical, but now you can see the care in his eyes, when he adds the flour to the bowl, making sure he doesn’t spill anything.

“look at you! doing so well, you might end up as a cookie maker after a–” before you get to finish the sentence, he gets some flour in his hand and throws it all on your face.” when you open your eyes, you see a small grin on his face. “you look like a ghost.”

you talke a big breath and exhale slowly. then you steal the flour from behind his body, ready to fight back. “you are not getting away with this!”

a sweet war starts between you two. each of you fire your shots. all you can do is laugh, there’s powdered sugar on your nose, cheeks and lips. you feel like a small child, so carefree and innocent.

laughter distracts you from the situation you’re in. theo is holding you by the wrists, preventing your hands, armed with a spatula of dough, from rubbing the mass into his face. your eyes open to meet his and in one moment you both turn quiet. you might be delusional, but this seems like perfect time for a kiss.

his lips crash into yours so suddenly, that you barely get the chance to register that it’s actually happening. when he backs away after a second, you pull him in once again, this time him much more confidently.

„you taste like sugar.” you whisper against his lips.

„i wonder why.” he whispers back and kisses you again, and again.

you like the softness on his cheeks when you touch them, and way his hands wrap around your waist. you stay like this for a moment, closer than ever before, until you’re brought back to reality by the oven alarm. sugar cookies. you pat his shoulder and run to get the baking tray.

when you turn back to him, he’s still leaning his lower back on the table, looking at you, smirking. you pretend like you’re not extremely flustered and point to the bowl he never finished mixing. „work, theo! this dough won’t mix itself!”

he quickly grabs the spatula again, saluting to her with it. „yes, chef!”

you giggle. „i don’t think it works like that in cookie shops.”

„yes, chef.” he murmurs quietly, glancing again, as if to see how you react.

you roll your eyes, smile and look away, feeling your cheeks getting hot. your face hurts from all the smiling, but with the smell of sugar cookies and theodore’s eyes on your back, it doesn’t seem like you’re going to stop any time soon.

[dibidibidismynameisleeknow]

Twelve Days of Mingyu 🎄 3/12

Day 3 - Letters to Santa

As always, the table of contents is ✨here✨

There was no way you were going to push for it, but after spending this much time at Mingyu’s apartment, a spare key would make a wonderful Christmas present. Although, there wasn’t anything that could compare to the joy on Mingyu’s face when he greeted you at the door. Except this time.

“There you are. What took you so long? I’m freaking out.”

“Hi Mingyu. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve been doing great. How are you?” 

Sure, you had just been playfully messing with Mingyu but the moment he stepped aside you saw the reason for his stress. There were childrens toys strewn across the living room, stray snacks and a ruthless toddler running around. Mingyu was babysitting.

“Help.”

Mingyu’s kitchen table was littered with an array of craft supplies from markers to crayons, glitter and stickers, it was a mess.

“I’m sorry. I panicked. I’ve never babysat and really needed your help. I know our third date will be early but I figured we could help this little one write her letter to Santa.”

You shrugged off your jacket and reassured Mingyu that everything was going to be fine and that you didn’t mind helping out. You divided tasks amongst the two of you; Mingyu was on dinner duty and you cleaned up the mess made by the toddler, and tried your best to distract her with whatever Christmas cartoons were currently airing. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you babysitting?”

That was when Mingyu gave you the rundown on everything. The child was actually the granddaughter of the older couple that lived down the hall, and their regular babysitter had cancelled on them. 

“It’s their date night and I didn’t want them to miss it so I offered to babysit for them.”

“That’s so cute,” you gushed. Mingyu was honestly the most thoughtful person. “Mingyu, you’re amazing. You know that, right? I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

“You tell me plenty, don’t worry. But I appreciate that, thank you.”

Thankfully the little girl fell asleep so you and Mingyu were graced with a few more moments of silence. You helped Mingyu cook the last bit of dinner and set the table which brought back the memories from Thanksgiving. If his friends didn’t help push the two of you together you wouldn’t be in this position, and you were grateful, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Are you crying?”

You let out a chuckle and shook your head. “I’m okay, they’re happy tears. I was just thinking about us.”

Mingyu pulled you into the tightest hug you were sure he could manage without hurting you. At least this time you could embrace Mingyu’s affection unlike Thanksgiving, before you admitted your feelings to each other. A few stolen glances and kisses later the two of you finished dinner and woke the sleeping child.

The three of you decided to write your letters to Santa once dinner was over, and the little girl was well rested and significantly calmer. 

“So, sweetie. What do you want to write in your letter? What do you want for Christmas?” you asked.

“You.”

“Mingyu, I was talking to the child.”

“I want my grandparents to live forever and a colouring book and a bicycle,” she answered while scribbling on her paper, deep in concentration. 

Mingyu hummed as if he was deep in thought himself. “That’s a good idea, I also want those things for Christmas.”

Between the two of you, the little girl’s letter was ready to go by the time her grandparents came back; complete with stickers, glitter, drawn on snowflakes and other doodles.

“Thanks again for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You’re welcome, whatever you need, I’m here for you.” You rested your arms over Mingyu’s shoulders as leverage to press a light kiss to his cheek. “I’d love to stay, but I have to go. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“I lo-,” Mingyu paused to alter his original sentence before he spoke again. “I’ll - uh- I’ll see you later, text me when you get home, please.”

[anime-greek]

Slash in ClanAU concept art/ doodles

Can finally post these and make more now that I properly introduced him in that recent comic.

My guy gets the 2nd most character development among the adults despite being in the background (though I did plan like 3 “episodes” focused on him in earlier days of AU)

Bonus info for him!

-Based off red footed tortoise

-Originally wielded metal claws but scrapped it. He very much prefers fighting with his bare hands as his skin/shell is super durable and it’s easier to manage. Nails can extend/retreat if he wants it to.

-Beat up Leo after their first encounter. Later on Raph beat the shit out of him when he realized who he is (post-movie) (also got a few hits on him, but left the tortoise in way worst shape). Leo didn’t tell Raph who or what happened, Raph just connected the dots.

-He has four other siblings. Three older (Bidi, Calavo, and ‘Leatherhead’) and one younger (‘Mondo’). He does not get along well with any of them. Closest is Mondo but that’s because the lil guy puts up with them all due to fear. They are mutated by the same scientist and not by the oozequitos, thus does not have ‘magical’ abilities.

-Had anger/trust issues but it’s resolved later on. Mended relationship with Mondo afterwards.

-Later on gets along with Turbo and her cousins really well. And new hamato siblings

-Dated Leo (23) for a couple months before they broke up mutually. Then dated Raph for like a week (to help Raph’s bi-curiosity). He’s currently (present day) dating someone else in an unserious relationship.

-Slash is 3 years older than Leo.

-Slash is an alias he made up on the spot. But he very soon preferred it over the name his family gave him.

-Slash and Raph really didn’t like each other at first but are currently best friends.

[sweetest-honeybee]

How come you finished welcome home commissions before other commissions?

Sorry to be kind of rude but a friend of mine commissioned something a while before you started posting about Welcome Home and it’s understandable that you are busy but the welcome home commissions were likely commissioned after you started posting about it so I don’t know why you did them first.

I already know I’m gonna sound like an ass for a moment but here we go-

Firstly this can be taken up privately by your friend if they’re concerned. I also don’t particularly appreciate this in my inbox but to answer, it’s just whatever I can get through quickest. My oldest of the ones sitting are from much longer ago than anything anyone in Tumblr has commissioned me for and I’m finishing those tomorrow (they’re from Twitter and Instagram respectively and I dedicated my entire last Saturday to them alone). Those two have been quite kind and expressed their concerns about turnaround themselves if need be

Anything that’s particularly fun and interesting gets done quicker and keeps space open when others are a bit stuck when I need a quick slot filled like last week to cover an expense, for example. Scraping by on harder/less interesting commissions slows things down

Truly, it’s not that I don’t like some commissions, they’re just harder to sit and focus on

Additionally, my time management has been awful this year because of several points of uncertainty about getting a job, a couple scares on my living situation, and not having a clear window of time consistently to know when to work on things that have been sitting (and of course, burnout is always an issue). It’s easy to find time to just. Scribble and doodle, maybe do a piece for myself, but getting actual work done is a little more difficult. I’ve discovered preclaimed adopts and taking up so many commissions in May last minute wasas a bad choice so I’m still quite literally 15 commissions in the hole to finish on top of your friend’s commission. So making sure that isn’t gonna happen again is all I can do, at the moment. I’ve been chipping away at em in little bits of free time as best I can, reorganizing my canvases, getting a good idea of what’ll be finished first and last, etc etc I’ve actually been quite productive for the last week or so

If your friend is upset they need to tell me. They’re the client, and the content doesn’t concern you directly if you haven’t commissioned me and are waiting. If they’d like a refund because the turnaround is too long, that’s for them to communicate with me and I’m happy to provide a refund. I’m not always gonna be the best artist for the job if you want quick work and that’s fine. I’ve refunded MUCH larger pieces before for that reason. Clients may check in at any time whether I’ve got progress to show for the time or not. And oftentimes I don’t! Sometimes it’s days or a couple-few weeks before I can get progress to people, it just happens and I’ve been working on making sure it doesn’t keep happening so I don’t have to make people expect to wait so long before they hear from me. Trust me, it’s always a bit disappointing when I can’t show anything

And now that I’m working as well, my ability to finish those things just depends on what days I get to myself during the week and atm thats 3 days this week so those 3 days are dedicated to downtime and paid commission work. Which quite frankly, is a bit exhausting. Fun puppet characters and scaly dragons and whatnot are fun and rewarding and I’m clearing my queue while doing something I’m enjoying and that gets me to the older stuff much faster

I’m very sorry the turnaround estimate was more than a little off and it’ll be tweaked for better preparation in the future. I’m also sorry if they’ve asked and I didn’t respond quickly or have sounded dismissive. Hell, some clients pester and pester and that certainly makes doing work for them unenjoyable. I think about these commissions every single day and how I can approach them so I can finish them by sometime in July

[butterfrogmantis]

// Couple of suggestive pick up lines on doodle 5 djdk

Tuffy Foley was born along the coastal area of the Long Island section of NY, in a slightly run down neighbourhood. Once rumoured to have been a famous smugglers area for pirates, the summers were often overcrowded with tourists and the winter’s barren of much company. Tuffy was raised by his aunt and uncle, due to his biological parents having lost custody of him as a toddler. His aunt and uncle were kind folk and Tuffy trusted them whole heartedly – the same could not be said for the kids his age around the area. Tuffy was much younger, and much smaller than most of them, so he quickly became an easy target to their constant taunts and physical jabs.

Tuffy endured the black eyes and taste of gravel for far too long before someone stepped up to them. But someone did – Hefty Ortiz, a slightly older and braver kid than Tuffy, who’d had enough of the peers his age picking on the ‘poor guy’ and told them to back off. Hefty was not a kid to be messed with either, he was strong enough to easily hold his ground and the bullies knew he didn’t bluff. For Tuffy, he had found a new idol that day, and was forever in his debt.

Tuffy meet’s Hefty’s mom’s. X and Y Ortiz, a lesbian couple who had been raising their son into a compassionate and strong minded young man. X worked as the local sports coach, whilst Y was a social worker, so it was easy to see where Hefty’s strength and empathy came from. This was also Tuffy’s first positive representation of homosexuality – Tuffy had likely endured bigoted slurs from the bullies, despite being too young to know what the future had in store for him, and being around the Ortiz family has likely saved him from years of further denial.

Teenage Hefty discovered girls, Teenage Tuffy discovered Hefty. I mean, kid Tuffy looked up to Hefty but teenage Tuffy worshipped the very ground he walked on. It was an almost unhealthy obsession, and unfortunely this did start to strain his relationship with Hefty who found him to be broaching into slightly unhealthy co-dependency and imitation behaviour.

Hefty travels to Belgium. Tuffy, still lost in a fantasy parasocial relationship with him, follows. Ultimately, despite their adventures, his affections are never returned and it becomes obvious to Tuffy they never will.

A heartbroken but bitter Tuffy turns to … more unwarranted approaches and with his new found self-appointed freedom at no longer pursuing Hefty exclusively, Tuffy moves on … to his best friend, Handy Turner. When that doesn’t work, Tuffy decided to try a new outlook and attempts to attract the attention of a much older man, Wooly Sherman. That also does not work. Tuffy sulks and decides to give up for now. 

A few years later, Marco Spaziale is back in the village. His first trip away since the ‘incident’ in fact and what he’d really like now is a quiet night in the pub and a pint to relax. What he GETS is a sulking Tuffy who’s pissed about another failed rizz attempt. Marco is … bemused but annoyed. They exchange some banter and Marco tells some bone-chilling sea stories. Well, that gets Tuffy’s attention. Actually now that he thinks about it this Marco fella is sort of handsome in a very ruggish and badass way – Just Tuffy’s type. Those scars are pretty cool. Tuffy’s into it. He’s found a new object of his affections.

Marco suspects there may be a distant link between Tuffy and the weird skeleton dude walking around. Tuffy has concerns of his own.

It took some time but Marco warms back to Tuffy. He kind of originally viewed him as a sad little puppy, but like sad little puppies they have a way of warming your heart. Unlike his friend Dreamy who Marco tends to perceive as something akin to a little brother relationship with him, Marco’s never really had anything to do with Tuffy before and romantic feelings are eventually reciprocated. Marco is a bit older and more experienced about life in general whereas Tuffy has followed Hefty his whole life and is younger and a bit sheltered. Marco shows him some of the world. Tuffy discovers he has seasickness.

Tuffy and baby Vitriolic. Aww. He’s a good dad despite Vitty having er. Her own social issues djdjk

Tuffy, Hefty, Smurfette, Handy, Marina, Wooly, and Marco (c) The Smurfs

Hefty's moms, Skelly and Vitriolic are mine

[seriousbrat]

I saw your post about the love lives of boys, and I have a question: do you think James and Lily were each other’s first when it comes to sex and related things?

They were described as popular and attractive (at least Lily, for sure), so it's likely others would have their eyes on them.

I feel like it’s possible that Lily might have had a boyfriend before, but as a Muggleborn living during that time, I imagine she would’ve been very cautious about relationships to avoid being taken advantage of.

With James, it’s even harder to picture him having a girlfriend before Lily. Before puberty, he was probably too caught up in his friendships, moreover James and his friends became Animagi when they were around 15 or 16, so he had plenty of secrets to keep. By fifth year, he had a major crush on Lily (he was even doodling her initials on his exam paper — what a loser). Despite the common belief that he asked her out constantly, canon paints it differently. It seems like he wanted to ask her out for a while, but his Gryffindor bravery didn’t quite extend to girls, and when he finally did during that lake incident, it came out in the worst way possible.Since we know he went to the Dursleys' wedding before the end of the first semester of seventh year, it suggests he and Lily started dating at the beginning of their final year. For Lily to agree to date him, I think they must have developed a solid friendship in sixth year, which makes it doubtful that James would have risked losing that chance by dating other girls. I think it’s more likely that he went on a few dates or kissed a girl or two, but never really had a real girlfriend before Lily.

One of the most important things to remember is that wizarding society tends to be fairly conservative about relationships, and the UK in the 70s was generally quite traditional as well. So, I highly doubt that either James or Lily was casually sleeping around before they got together at 17. In fact, I think it’s completely normal to have your first real relationship at that age, even if that’s not a popular opinion nowadays.

Generally I don't like to believe they were each other's firsts-- personally I just don't find that idea at all romantic-- but also to be perfectly honest it wouldn't be that weird if that was the case, for many of the reasons you've outlined. It's just that I personally dislike the "being each other's firsts" trope so much that I can't write it lol

Usually, the way I write them, they've each perhaps dated a couple of people and have each had sex with one other person before they start going out, which I think is fairly realistic. Especially because they were both popular, outgoing, and lived in the very insular community of a boarding school. I do think that, considering their age, it would have been the first real sexual and romantic connection either of them had, which to me seems more important anyway.

I also doubt either of them was casually sleeping around previously to that-- not that there's anything wrong with that (i mean, I certainly can't talk lol) but like you said, by and large this would not have been very socially acceptable at the time, particularly for teenage girls, and considering the age they got married they both seem pretty traditionally monogamous lol. In my fic Lily doesn't have sex with her previous boyfriend Alfie at all, which is not abnormal for a teen relationship, but has her first time with an older muggle boy. I guess it depends how you see the characters-- although I do sometimes feel they're portrayed a little too adult in their approach to relationships and dating. Like there needs to be 10x more insecurity and awkwardness there haha

Weirdly a criticism I once received of my fic was that someone told me they preferred for James to have had a girlfriend during sixth year that Lily would be jealous of, and they disliked that I hadn't gone that route. While I actually did consider it at one point (it's such a classic jily trope) and I totally get why people like that as a plot point, it just didn't really feel right for his character in the end. And to me it felt quite realistic that he'd only have had one girlfriend before Lily. Also, like you, I tend to think that at the first whiff of Lily possibly being interested in him James probably wouldn't risk that chance by dating someone else lol.

So I guess my answer is somewhere in between; to me it doesn't feel realistic for them to be super experienced with multiple serious relationships under their belt, but personally I do prefer them to have "dabbled" a bit I guess. I think there's a balance between treating these teenage characters as adults with adult dating lives vs having them be completely inexperienced.

[winwild]

you’re not from around here, are you? i figured because you totally just missed winslow wilder walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who he is ? they kind of look like andy samberg and i could be wrong but i think that they might be 45 years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last year. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of jesse swanson from pitch perfect.

STATS.

full name.  winslow pincus wilder. he’s stockpiled mountains of jewelry to thank his mother for spurning a hyphenated surname.

nicknames.  answers to mr. wilder first and foremost, but accepts winn or winnie with brutal bruxism.

label.  the filmophile.

date of birth.  22 june. celebrates billy wilder’s conception more consistently, though.

place of birth.  mer rouge, louisiana. his mouth frequently confuses this with moulin rouge.

current residence.  mango bay, palmview grove, florida. a chronic couch crasher nonetheless.

languages.  fluent in english and asl. speaks high school level spanish with a middle schooler’s accent.

education.  got a b.a. in music composition. between his bank account and acclaimed career in cooking burgers, he thinks it should've been a b.s.

occupation.  music teacher at seaglass heights elementary school.

gender. cisgender male. he/him.

orientation.  bisexual in a ‘crushed on both shirley maclaine and jack lemmon in the apartment’ way.

marital status.  single. not quite ready to mingle.

family.  very loving mother and father. less loving older sister and younger brother. a couple of nieces and nephews who call him the cool uncle.

pets.  a prelapsarian rose-ringed parakeet named reginald. maybe a mouse colony or two behind the microwave.

PERSONALITY.

the brief.  winslow thinks of life as a movie. one with labyrinthine twists and turns, highs and lows and hopeless romance, and an audience somewhere just out of sight that ought to enjoy themselves. he’s cast himself as the heroic comic relief (or is it comic stress?) and wants to help people find their happy endings, even though he’s just about abandoned finding one for himself. whether that’s because he thinks it’s the stand-up thing to do or because he believes karma’s watching, you best believe he’s bringing a pumped playlist along.

the good.  winslow is outgoing to the point where his parents have advised him to pack his bags and make someone else pay the rent. his easygoing empathy and ability to laugh at anything (even… no, especially himself) have allowed him to amass quite the number of acquaintances. the natural blitheness that plagues his monologues may suggest otherwise, but he’s loyal and dependable enough to have had his room dubbed the kennel by siblings, cousins, and actual stray animals. only a select few can surpass the confidence he’s been saving since college, and most of them turned out to be presidents in the making. according to the wilder diaries volumes 23 through 47, no job is too small and no joke is too corny for him to not give his all. then there’s usually a doodle of a ginormous smiley face that bleeds over to the next page. look, there’s a reason he didn’t become an english teacher.

the bad.  winslow forgives and forgets before he can remember what he’s forgiving in the first place. idealism is the only idea he has of how to interact with people, and it’s a herculean task to get him to acknowledge something can’t be solved with a sliver of time and an acoustic rendition of a progressive rock song. he’s passionate to a fault, and his dogged pursuit of whatever or whoever piques his interest can end in disappointment on both parties’ end as he overpromises and underdelivers due to the sheer length of his to-do list.

the ugly.  winslow’s sense of worth is, was, and perhaps always will be dependent on what others say and do. without the promise of applause or a sordid afterparty he struggles to find purpose in being himself, his boundaries weak and expectations silent while his vocal cords soar into sardonic condescension. he’s the first to believe he’s got some growing up to do before he becomes one of those floridian retirees floating by in life with peace and a pina colada, but whether he’s ready to work on that is a whole different ball game. and he sucked at ball games. why else would he join an a cappella group at the ripe old age of eighteen?

APPEARANCE.

height.  5’8. he could’ve taught at mango bay high, but the prospect of telling off teenagers taller than him was terrifying, even for a guy who knew the room’s script by heart.

build.  generously described by his crossfit coach as lean. hits the vending machine more than the gym, though.

style.  his contacts list may very well be a tourist’s guide to nearby thrift shop owners. patterned comfort takes precedence above such trivial things as social appropriateness–his closet is a menagerie of flannel, florals, graphic tees, and hoodies; his shoe rack is a museum of besmirched sneakers and bedecked crocs.

notable features. floppy brown hair married to bedhead. a cleft chin bereft of any substantial facial hair. a crooked smile that smells of bubblegum toothpaste.

BIOGRAPHY. content warning for a brief mention of unplanned pregnancy and a longer mention of medical issues. skip the not-so-young adulthood sections if you’re uncomfortable with this.

childhood.  it takes a darn difficult couple of months, but eventually, winslow pincus wilder is born to be weaned on diet coke and family comedies in the most anodyne suburb america has to offer. of course, his parents work at the office and his sister works at dismantling the patriarchy one pierced ear at a time. he has to make his own fun with whomever he finds interesting, and by the time his brother’s born, he’s befriended half the neighbourhood with his taste in music, movies, or lawnmowers. school passes by like a breeze–not because he’s smart, mind you, but because he’s bored to death and c grades are, y’know, passing–and he’s happy with his dinners and chores and everything else about real life that’s a bore, because he’s got movies.

adolescence.  winslow is a social vagabond, drifting from pack to pack lunch to lunch. people come to his bar mitzvah, yeah, and people don’t point out how his action figures are poking his jaws poster in a very strange place, but his sister’s destroying her professors’ egos at some ivy league and his brother’s destroying books or baseball bats or whatever while he’s still drawing stop-motion ninjas in the corner of his notebooks. for the first and last time in his life, he feels awkward, resorting to such desperate projects as a garage band, a lemonade stand, and a detective agency. when he watches the breakfast club at seventeen, he sees himself in the screen more than ever before. he feels himself in the fugues of electric guitar and a god-given falsetto. he knows he has a future in music, even if he did mistake first runner up at the talent show for first and got his garage band booed off the stage.

young adulthood.  winslow is the one being watched, for once. eyes bore into his back when his parents nearly squeeze his spine out of his body, wondering why he had to move more than a mile away to study music. a smug senior with the most insufferably dulcet voice looks at him with a cocky, ever-cocked brow when he signs up for the campus radio internship. but there’s also an an absurdly intense cappella group and a schedule that leaves him way too much time to lounge around and a roommate that leaves him way too little space for any personal effects (not that he’s complaining!) and a girl. it’s something out of a movie. then he graduates, they break up but remain on great terms, and he moves many miles away to try and use his degree for something deserving of the blockbuster billboard top thousand. keyword being try.

not-so-young adulthood.  winslow is happy in his big city bachelor’s pad, working a greasy spoon’s greasier counter and calling in sick every now and then to perform at open mics. he’s not quite as appreciated as he was in his a cappella days, but at least he’s not getting booed off. one night, though, his bemoaning to the big boss about another cold is cut off by a call from his ex. she’s got a kid and she thought her boyfriend was kidding when he said he’d leave by the end of the football season. the morning after, winslow’s at her door and doesn’t intend on leaving. he finds work he loves at the local school training the next generation to play hot cross buns and finds that being a father is just as, if not more fulfilling, than being a friend. but pride cometh before a fall.

not-so-young adulthood: act two.  a literal fall, in fact, as his dad is hospitalised for a heart attack and his mom’s never got half the same mind after. he’s not making enough to cover the bill and his siblings barely ever call back, so he’s left scrambling for money. asking for help from the woman whose baby he’s helping raise? what are you, the court jester? no, help comes in the form of the child’s father, calloused knuckles and jingling pockets approaching. the deal’s simple: let the kid have their real dad and wake up to a fat wad of cash under his pillow, no broken teeth needed. winslow agrees. it’s not like the kid’s even old enough to remember him, and his ex will understand if he moves to be closer to his parents as their conditions worsen. he leaves no trace of him in the house but a really stupid mixtape of rapped lullabies with his address scribbled on and moves to mango bay.

now.  winslow is an infinite amount of people stuffed in a plaid shirt, sutured with a smile. he’s the newcomer to one cantankerous convenience store clerk who needs to deal with his bulk purchase of popsicles, artificially coloured tongue still stumbling over street names. he’s a human map to a young couple who need the perfect picture on the beach to make their shared ex jealous, hands deftly working their camera with a director’s eye for detail. more than anything, he’s a man looking to score movies and share stories. even if they’re super, duper embarrassing for all parties involved.

MISCELLANEOUS.

radio.  john williams. simple minds. charlies williams. kansas. ralph vaughan williams. are you sensing a theme yet?

recommended reading.  wonder boys by michael chabon. a wrinkle in time by madeleine l'engle. out on a limb by shirley maclaine. the fan by bob randall. big fish: a novel of mythic proportions by daniel wallace. 

potential relationships.  a fellow film bro (gender neutral). a fan of his a cappella work. a former coworker at burger flipping inc. a former bandmate because you know this man’s done some weird gigs for a good buck. a fling from high school. a fling who saw his suitcase covered in movie memorabilia as he stood outside his shiny new palmview apartment because he lost the key he was literally just given and went yeah i’d hit that. a friend of his sibling’s, who’s heard or seen more male-led horror stories than present in a stephen king’s bibliography. a friend of his kid’s but god would that require plotting lmao.

assorted headcanons.  has a better dvd collection than any blockbuster; the plastic on all of them’s worn out more than the fabric of his singular suit. way too good at dodgeball and trampoline tricks. always chooses never gonna give you up as his last karaoke song. instinctively harmonises with the radio, which must be turned on 24/7 lest he die of ennui. learned to play the piano at age twelve to impress a crush who never inhaled in his general direction. a prodigious malingerer; fakes a classic dad sneeze to cover up his real sneeze, which should, for all intents and purpose, belong to a coloratura soprano. has invested in at least one pyramid scheme.

[so-am-smyme9540]

Little Talks (a Lackadaisy fanfiction)

Hey ya'll, this has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, so I decided to just bite the bullet and finish it. I call Freckle Calvin in this, because it feels kind of weird to calling him by a nickname only Rocky amd sometimes Ivy use. Anyways, enjoy the fic!

It was one of those rare, calm days at the Little Daisy Café, soon to open into the Lackadaisy speakeasy. Calvin was in the garage, elbow deep in the car’s engine, fiddling with this and that, trying to fix that awful raddle it’s had lately. His older cousin, Rocky, sat a few feet away atop a couple boxes, nose deep in his journal. Everyone who knew him knew of his penchant for poetry, but only few knew that he also liked to draw in the journal, occasionally. Calvin knew, because of the doodles all over the letters he used to receive.

He tightened a loose bolt inside the hood, despite knowing that wouldn’t fix it, nothing was ever that simple. He moved his attention to the radiator, next. With his hands occupied and his mind on the topic of his cousin’s letters, he realized one of the only ones without a drawing was the one asking if Calvin had heard from his father. He hadn’t, he’d never even met the man. Not that he could tell Rocky, of course, what with him travelling all over the states, hopping from one job to the next, trying so hard to outrun their shared family secret.

Calvin knew it was none of his business, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little curious about Rocky’s father. His cousin had never really mentioned him, he didn’t talk much about either of his parents, really, but Calvin supposed he had a good excuse for at least one of them. Although, then again, he’d never asked about them. He looked up from the car’s innards, and over at Rocky, who seemed to have gone back to writing. He didn’t really want to break the comfortable silence, it was such a rare commodity when it came Rocky, but he was curious.

“Hey Rocky?” His cousin looked up with a soft hum, pen still in hand. “What’s your dad like?” Rocky hesitated, which was odd for him, though he tried to pretend he has simply thinking over his answer. Calvin knew him better than that.

“Well, he used to work on the railroad. I’m not sure if he does anymore.” Rocky replied, though it didn’t really answer the question. Calvin knew he hadn’t seen his father in ages, but surely it couldn’t be that hard to remember him.

“Okay, but what was he like?” Calvin pressed, now wiping the grease on his hands from the engine on a rag. “Was he nice?”

Rocky actually seemed to think about that, as he fiddled with the pen in his hands. It was a nervous habit he’d had since childhood, though sometimes he himself didn’t seem to realize he was even doing it. “I think so. He was never mean, at least. I didn’t really see him much, he worked all the time and I was at your house a lot.” They both knew the reason why. Thick silence filled the air, making Calvin wish he had never broken it in the first place. Such as with most times, he should’ve stayed quiet. Rocky, on the other hand, was never opposed to disturbing the peace. “What was your dad like?”

Calvin was caught a bit off guard, but he supposed it was only fair. His father was also somewhat of a sore subject, given their shared family secret, but the two of them had silently agreed somewhere along the way to pretend it didn’t exist. So that’s what Calvin would do. “Well, he was definitely nice, if a little distant. He made mom laugh.”

Rocky nodded, about to reply, when Calvin suddenly remembered a moment from his childhood, before Rocky was staying with them. “Oh, one time, he decided he would make dinner, to give Mom a break. He tried to make spaghetti, but he forgot to boil he water… so we ate sandwiches instead.”

Rocky laughed, setting his journal on the box beside him. “I bet he got an earful from Aunt Nina!”

Calvin laughed a little too, smiling at the memory. “Yeah, when she was done scolding him she gave him a pat on the head and thanked him for trying.”

They fell into another silence, but this time, it was much more comfortable. But there was still another question Calvin had wanted to ask for a while, but never knew how. Rocky seemed to be in a sharing mood, and he didn’t want to ruin that, but… Well, curiosity killed the cat, after all.

“…What was your mom like?”

At first, he didn’t think Rocky could answer. He almost hoped he wouldn’t, that he’d get mad at him, because staying quiet and taking it was always easier. But Rocky had other ideas. “Oh, Mama was an angel…” He said, a smile on his face despite what happened to her. “She would never say things like “Roark don’t do that,” or “Roark don’t you dare eat that.” He exaggerated an Irish accent, just to drive the point home. “No, she’d say stuff like “Eat this instead, Rocky! It tastes much better than dirt, and it won’t hurt your stomach.”

Calvin snickered a little at that, eating dirt was definitely something Rocky would do. “And,” he added, with a sort of side eye, “She didn’t get mad when I made her mudpies.”

“You have to admit, those were gross.” He tried to reason with his cousin.

“They were presents!”

“They got all over my bed!” Waking up covered in mud was… not pleasant, to say the least.

“Whatever. You’re just ungrateful.”

Calvin shook his head, letting another lull into the conversation. Ungrateful was a good word to describe him, even if he knew Rocky didn’t mean it seriously. At horrible as it was, he couldn’t help but feel jealousy creep into his thoughts. Definitely ungrateful, Rocky’s mom was dead, what did he have to be jealous for? If anyone, Rocky should’ve been jealous! But he wasn’t. He never was. Not even when-

“Freckle?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Rocky’s concerned blue ones. “You good?” He asked, climbing off the boxes, journal long forgotten.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” He hesitated, looking back into the car’s engine to avoid his cousin’s concerned gaze. “Your mom sounds great.”

Rocky didn’t smile, he looked down at his hands, closing them into fists. “She was. It’s honestly kind of difficult to imagine her and Nina being sisters. Though I’m sort of- terrified, because I think I’m starting to forget her.” His fist tightened, ever so slightly. Calvin looked back at him, feeling it safe to do so. “Sometimes I… I really have to think, about what she looked like. I-I can’t even remember what she sounds like anymore!” His voiced raised in desperation, his fists opening back up. “…I don’t want to forget..”

Calvin frowned, and he opened his mouth to answer, when the trapdoor suddenly opened. “Hey Rocky?” Zib’s head pocked in, “we’re on stage in 30 minutes, the guys want to practice some.”

“Oh, right!” Rocky’s demeanor suddenly went right back to normal, as if he’d never said anything. Calvin knew him better than that. “Sorry, I’m coming!”

————————————————————————————————

Rocky walked through the now dark garage, violin case in hand, tired from a successful night at the Lackadaisy. Well, successful by their standards. He opened the car door, ready to put up his violin and collapse into the seat, when he spotted a note admits his belongings. Curious, he picked it up.

‘I know you won’t forget. But if it makes you feel better, Mom said she sounded like Mary Pickford. -Calvin’

Under the note, was a small picture of his mother, before she got sick and looked so tired all the time. Rocky smiled, not one of his too wide, faked smiles, but a genuine, grateful smile. He tucked the picture and note inside his violin case, and went to bed knowing he had the greatest cousin in St. Louis.

[ghostie-gengar]

N childhood memory thing!! i'm back on my "N has a secret mom" crap (1200 ish words)

N hurried through the halls of the castle, stumbling to put on his shoes on the way. Since he was about to have an audience with his father, he figured he’d better at least put on a pair of shoes. Admittedly, he hated wearing shoes, but it was better than adding to the numerous screaming arguments that would spark if he didn’t

He turned a few corners, smiled and waved when the occasional maid bowed for him- he was a prince, after all- and found the entrance to his father’s office.

However, when he smoothed down his shirt and got ready to knock on the door, he saw it was slightly ajar.

N nervously shifted, then knocked three times. After a few moments with no reply, he called out, “Father? Are you there?”

No reply.

Brimming with curiosity, he peeked through the crack, squinting through at the warmly lit office. He began to pry the door open further, but stopped himself.

It had been expressly and repeatedly stated that N wasn’t allowed in there. And N wasn’t really in the mood to get hit or yelled at or grounded.

He stepped back and mulled over it for a few minutes, then decided. He opened the door with a creak, then slipped in.

He was at the age where he wasn’t one to follow rules, after all.

N had been in the office a couple of times, mainly for the odd brief discussion with his father. The floor was covered in an intricately embroidered carpet N would have loved to feel on his bare feet, and the walls were lined with bookshelves holding books on subjects from philosophy to art. N itched to flip through them, excited by the prospect of a whole room of books he hadn’t read yet, but figured he’d better not mess with anything. (At this point, he was risking having to wash the floors, too.)

“Father?” he called again, just so he could pretend he was still looking for him.

There was a large painting hanging above the desk. It depicted a cloudy, misty evening, where a Hydreigon clawed and tore away at a flower- a gladiolus, if N remembered correctly. What’s more, based on the tiny doodles he’d seen on the corners of his father’s notes, he could safely assume his father had painted it himself.

N stepped closer just to marvel at it. His father had never shown him his art, or anything personal, really. Maybe that’s why the concept of wandering into his forbidden office was so alluring.

He carefully turned around, ready to leave before he could get caught, but saw something very interesting on the desk.

There was a notebook (N didn’t even want to look at it, for he knew his father would likely kill him), as well as a few open books. One of the books was a sketchbook, where the open page depicted a near identical drawing of the vase of flowers nearby.

But most strikingly, was a small picture, in sunbleached colour, of two people.

One of them was his father. He looked younger and quite dapper in a dress shirt and slacks. His eyes were turned up in a smile, including the right eye N had never seen. 

N picked up the frame to get a closer look.

The other person was a woman around his father’s age, clinging to his arm and beaming with all the light in the world. Her hair was a light pink and tied up in a bun, and she wore a pretty yellow dress.

She kind of looked like N’s older sister. Her eyes were more like his other sister, though.

And of course, as he stared down at the window into his father’s past, that was the moment when the door creaked open, with his father on the other side.

“N? What are you doing in my office?” the man said with a frown.

N’s heart hammered against his chest, and his head began to feel fuzzy. “I’m sorry!” he quickly sputtered out. “I know I’m not allowed in here, but I was looking for you, but you weren’t here, and-” He bit his tongue. Excuses would only make things worse!

His father’s eyes fell to the frame in his hands. “What do you have there?” 

“I shouldn’t have looked,” N said, wincing as his father drew nearer, “but I was curious.” He squeezed his eyes shut, but his father didn’t strike him, or yell. Just placed a hand on his back and peered over at the picture.

“That’s an old photograph,” he simply said.

N went still, mustering the courage to even speak. “Who is she?”

He didn’t think his father would reply. Surprisingly, he was wrong.

“My wife. Your mother.”

Mother?

Of course, since he was fourteen, N’s first thought was, My dad gets girls??

He couldn’t say that, obviously, so he looked closer at the picture. Sure enough, he could see little traces of himself in her brown eyes, and her freckles, and her smile full of crooked teeth.

“She’s pretty,” N said, at a loss for anything else to say.

“She was very beautiful,” His father gently took the frame from N’s hands. “and very kind.” He set the picture back down on the desk.

Was.

Ah. 

N knew better than to inquire further, and his father knew better than to let him.

“Now, what did you need me for?” his father asked, voice edging on annoyance.

N’s mind went blank. In all his excitement and discovery…he totally forgot why he’d wanted to visit in the first place.

He bowed his head. “It slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”

His father rolled his good eye. The one that wasn’t concealed by an eyepatch. “Alright, then.” He patted N’s back. “Get out of my office.”

“Yes, sir!” N hurriedly shuffled out of the room, but paused at the doorway. “I like your art.”

“Out of my office.”

“Could I read your books sometime?”

“Out.”

N ran off, for he knew when his father was reaching the end of his short fuse. Still, it was a miracle he wasn’t in more trouble, but maybe his father was busy thinking up a punishment.

He kicked off his shoes and scooped them up as he ran.

He always imagined his father was hiding wicked, magical secrets behind the door to his office, like a Griseous Orb or maybe a Time Gear! (If confused about the latter, please consult N’s favourite book, Explorers of Sky)

But, everything in that office was so…normal. Why would his father feel the need to hide something so ordinary, like art or books or a picture of his wife?

Wife. N still couldn’t believe a lady would like his father.

He closed himself into his room and flopped over onto his bed, then thought about the woman’s smiling face.

He had a lot of questions, and he doubted they’d be answered.

“She was very beautiful, and very kind.”

…That’s what his father had said. He’d sounded uncharacteristically tender and forlorn, as well. He must have really loved her. It seemed hard to imagine, since he was always yelling and mad about something.

“She was very beautiful, and very kind.”

N wondered if she would have said the same thing about his father.

[newgenog]

REVENGE

Notes: This is part three of chapter two. If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop and start by reading part one of chapter one.

I'm posting the first few parts of each chapter here on Tumblr, and then wrapping up with the full chapter on Ao3 in week three. I'll try to post something every Friday (so far, so good!).

This is a #Batwoman AU based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. I was intrigued by the character parallels, and I decided to reimagine a world where Ryan Wilder has a more intentional pursuit of vengeance. 

CHAPTER TWO - TRUST (Part Three)

Summary: Robyn Wilde continues her plot to take down Gotham's most elite lawyer and favorite Clue Master, who was the assistant district attorney and federal prosecutor in her case when she was a young Ryan Wilder.

13 HOURS BEFORE THE LEAK

Ryan and Stephanie had shared a plate of fries and had one more drink together before they’d parted ways the night before. Stephanie told Ryan that one reason she wasn’t sure working for her father was the best choice was that he was always on, and she didn't really want to be a leader in a company that didn’t take great care of their employees. She realized this wasn’t completely abnormal for law firms, but she could run the finances for an employer that understood the value of (and cost of poorly prioritized) human capital. She also hinted at not loving how her father’s firm was earning all of its revenue. She clearly didn’t want to say much, but Ryan was already versed in Arther Brown’s dealings. 

13 YEARS AGO, GOTHAM CITY COURTHOUSE Ryan sat in the stuffy, sunlit courtroom, next to her public defender and watched as the drained, somewhat rumpled lawyer doodled on her legal pad. She’d just finished delivering her closing arguments, which basically consisted of describing Ryan as a disadvantaged, underprivileged youth, and weakly pleading with the jury to not add another Black kid to Gotham’s overcrowded with kids of color detention center when she should be given a second chance. Clearly, her lawyer didn’t believe she was innocent, but she rattled off some statistics that she’d bucketed Ryan into, and spoke to a jury that didn’t represent Ryan’s peers about a topic that didn’t concern them.  There seemed to be no shortage of people Ryan didn’t know sitting behind the other lawyer. At one point or another they or their children had taken the stand to provide vague recollections of the events that took place the day her mother died. Most of the children said they didn’t see much. A couple said they saw Ryan fighting with some of the kids, and the older woman struggling with one of them over a gun. It was always too dark, with a lot of commotion, to make heads or tails of anything.  No one sat behind Ryan - who would? When she had taken the stand, she pointed to the brunette girl with bangs in the audience who had told everyone to run, and a fair skinned, dark haired boy who sat in the row behind her as the one who brought the gun. Their parents and teachers were brought to the stand for their alibi and as character witnesses. No one was asked to speak to Ryan’s character. Her attorney seemed to make little effort or have no success in tracking anyone down. Ryan had suggested going to her mother’s church at one point, but she wasn’t sure if that ever happened. When permitted by the judge, Arthur Brown, the Assistant DA, stood up to counter with his closing arguments.  Arthur: “The defense has asked you to consider if Kane County Juvenile Detention Center has the capacity to take in another person, and believes that because her client might not have had the same advantages as the other children present the day that Cora Lewis was shot, that should be reason enough to look the other way, when the woman who was caring for Miss Wilder is now dead. Instead of arguing with more statistics of those serving time in our local detention center, I’ll remind you that your role is to determine if Miss Wilder has committed a crime. More, if you believe she is responsible for the circumstances that led to her adopted mother’s death, if the foster system where Ryan Wilder would be sent is the right place to rehabilitate someone who has broken the law. The defense’s client has claimed that Beth Kane is to blame for her mother’s killing, implying that she organized the party that took place in the apartment Ms. Lewis was in the process of securing for them. You’ve heard several accounts from the children present that day who agree that Beth Kane did not organize the party they attended, and that she learned about it through conversations at school the same way that they did. Without evidence to corroborate Miss Wilder’s story, we must look at the available facts. Only the apprehended children were found with drugs, which did not include Beth Kane but did include Ryan Wilder, and a gun that was registered to Cora Lewis was used to take her life. Miss Wilder sounds like a young woman desperate to avoid facing the consequences of her actions, and who is trying to redirect the blame towards a child who comes from a loving home. Arthur Brown made it sound like Ryan was picking on poor little Beth Kane because she was rich and more loved, as though Ryan was just jealous of her. And he made Ryan’s attorney sound like an amateur (which she probably was). The statements from the other children that had been detained with Ryan were missing, and the gun, which was not her mother’s, had magically been registered to Cora Lewis with a backdate. 

It ended up being a career changing win for Arthur Brown who'd earned the nickname "Clue Master'' among his clients for making anything that would have helped Ryan's case mysteriously evaporate, and replacing them with more quizzical evidence.

Stephanie and Ryan had agreed to meet at Brown Law Offices for coffee the next morning. Arthur would randomly pop into his daughter’s office throughout any given day to rattle off some financial question that he expected her to decode on the spot, and when he did so this morning, he’d be introduced to Robyn. In return, Stephanie would be Robyn’s plus one at The Gallery, so she could play wingwoman with Luke. 

The plan worked like a charm. 

Arthur: “Stephanie, I didn’t expect you to be in a meeting on a Saturday morning.” 

Stephanie: “Dad, this is Robyn Wilde, the new CEO at Jeturian Industries. She’s new to Gotham and I invited her here for coffee. You know it can be hard to get away…” 

Arthur: “That it can. Well, good morning Ms. Wilde, and congratulations on the new role. Is everything okay with Jada Jett?”

Ryan: “Great to meet you Mr. Brown. Jada is well, just taking some time away to spend with her family. So, I’m interim CEO. And, it feels a little too soon in life for me to go by my last name, so Robyn is just fine.” 

Arthur: “Fair enough. You can also call me Arthur. How are you settling in…?”

Ryan: “Definitely still getting my bearings. There’s so much to nail down when you move to a new city... I just bought a building yesterday, and sure could have used some legal advice to make sure I wasn’t overlooking anything.”

Arthur: “Well, your timing is quite fortunate, because a spot just opened up on our client list.”

Ryan is not surprised that Candice Long is no longer keeping Arthur on retainer. Luke’s quick passes through her emails informed them that she and her husband are now amidst a divorce, and he probably got Aurther in the friend split, since Candice is the one who betrayed everyone with her affair. While she deserves no pity from Ryan, the double standard that Jacob Kane’s life remains perfectly intact, while Candice’s falls apart is typical, and would normally disappoint Ryan; in this specific scenario, the bitch had it coming.  

Stephanie: “Look at that! Robyn was just telling me how lucky her timing has been since she arrived.”

Ryan: “Very true. Well, Arthur, should we set up a meeting?”

Arthur: “I have a little time this morning. My first call isn’t for an hour. Mind if I steal your coffee date, Steph?”

Stephanie: “By all means…”

Stephanie winks at Ryan. 

Ryan: “Well, alright then. Though, if you’ll forgive me, I should probably visit the ladies first.”

Stephanie: “Oh for sure. The bathrooms are in the lobby, where the receptionist desk was. As you can see, we don’t have coverage on the weekends, so you’ll have to buzz us to get back in. And then I can walk you to my dad’s office.”

Ryan: “Perfect!”

On the way out, Ryan overhears her dad complimenting Stephanie for bringing in new business, especially from Jeturian Industries. He could never get a meeting with Jada Jett. This also doesn’t surprise Ryan. Jada Jett had nothing to do with anyone associated with the Kanes. 

While father and daughter are occupied in their conversation, Ryan is able to slip behind the receptionist desk to place the spyware device Luke gave her in the desktop computer’s USB drive. 

Ryan Cell: Bug set.

Luke Cell: Great. Give me 5 minutes. I’ll be able to scan everything stored on their servers. And, because they’re using a wifi enabled phone system, I’ll have access to their recorded calls and voicemails, too. 

Ryan rolls her eyes at Luke’s need to spell out the technicalities of the device via text, when he should be focused on scanning everything over as quickly as possible (as if she really needs these details at this exact moment). 

Ryan Cell: You have 3 minutes.

Ryan rushes to the bathroom to make up for the lost time. She’s sure to flush the toilet and wash her hands, so that no one starts to wonder about her status. She’s lucky that Stephanie’s computer has her attention when she returns to the desk, and she’s able to reach over to grab the device out of the USB port without notice. She walks over to hit the buzzer, and Stephanie looks up at her with a smile. It’s time to make herself feel like a friend of the family.

~~~~~

10 HOURS BEFORE THE LEAK

Sophie: “I’m not going, Mary. Thank you, but no thank you.” 

Mary had just walked through the doors of The Hold Up with a very sunny disposition. She’d been texting Sophie, trying to convince her to attend The Gallery Pride event that evening, and Sophie had every reason for why she couldn’t go.

Mary: “Maybe it’s time to hire some additional help around here, so you don’t have to work all the time.”

Sophie’s face warmed a bit at the thought. 

Sophie: “That wasn’t really an option before, but it might be now. I still wouldn’t come if I had coverage, though.”

Mary: “I’m going to assume that smile wasn’t about Kate, since I’m pretty sure she’s the reason you don't want to come with me.”

Sophie just responds with a half, somewhat apologetic smile.

Mary: “Soph, seriously. I can’t do anything about her being my sister, but you’re my family too. You guys have to get passed this.”

Sophie: “There’s nothing for me to get passed. She’s the one who won’t move on. It’s been forever…”

Mary: “So who are you moving on with? Was I noticing a little something between you and the new girl with great style?”

Sophie: “I barely know Robyn.” 

Mary: “And do you want to change that?”

Sophie shrugs.

Sophie: “I know you heard she bought this place.”

Mary: “Business is more fun with a little pleasure.”

Sophie: “Oh, whatever. I’m not dating anyone right now. I don’t have time.” 

Diane Moore walks out from the kitchen, catching the end of their conversation.

Mary: “Like I said before, it’s time to get some help around here.”

Diane: “I agree, Sophie. You’re never going to find a husband if the only men you ever meet are the ones that walk through this bar. You need to go out and meet people.”

Sophie: “Mom, I’ve told you, I’m not looking for a husband.”

Diane: “Exactly.”

Diane was willfully ignoring the many times Sophie had told her that wasn’t in the cards for her. Her mom simply kept saying Sophie hadn’t found the right man yet, not able to understand or accept that she wasn’t ever going to want to be with a man.

Sophie: “Can we not do this right now?”

Diane: “Sure, because you need to take that colorful tarp out from in front of my window, anyway.”

Sophie: “It’s a rainbow flag, for Pride Month. All of the other restaurants and retail stores are doing it, so just look the other way.” 

Diane scowls at Sophie and turns around, talking under her breath about her not running anything in this restaurant, not caring about what other businesses are doing, and someone she created disrespecting her in front of customers. Mary reaches over and places a hand on Sophie’s. 

Mary: “If it helps, at least your dad isn’t a cheater.”

Sophie: “I don’t actually know that for sure, but what are you talking about?”

Mary: “Oh, just that my mom and dad have been having hushed arguments when they think we’re out of earshot about how he was having an affair with Candice Long.”

Sophie: “His Secretary! The Candy Lady?” 

Mary: “That’s the one. And, outside of our home, they’re walking around like the perfect couple, which is making me sick to my stomach to watch. So, per usual, it’d be great to have my best friend at this stupid performance of 'look at the happy, blended Hamilton Kane family!'”

Sophie: “I don’t know, Mary…”

Mary had become Sophie’s closest friend. The thing that happens in movies, where people have long, philosophical conversations with the bartender, would happen each time Mary drove Beth and friends to The Hold Up. They’d bonded over trying to relate to their sisters, and understand their mothers who seemed to have questionable taste in men. Both of them didn’t know their dads, and had spent time with step dads that weren’t proving to be any better. Sophie didn’t spend as long with her step dad (Jordan's dad), thankfully for her but not so much for Diane, but Mary was still trying to figure out the relationship she had with hers.

Mary: “Kate told me Robyn’s going to be there.” 

Sophie narrows her eyes, and shakes her head at Mary for thinking that would influence her decision.

Sophie: “She lives upstairs. I don’t have to go to a fancy benefit with people who don’t want me there to run into her, if that’s even what I was trying to do, and no one said it was.”

Mary: “I want you there! Why do we even go through this, Soph? You’re not really going to leave me hanging. You know Kate barely remembers me half of the time, and Beth barely tolerates me all of the time. I need you!” 

Sophie plops her head in her crossed arms on the bar. 

Mary: “Yes! I love you.” 

Sophie: “You better.”

~~~~~

To be continued...

Typical Endnotes:

Next week's conclusion will be posted on Ao3, but I'll post a link here to remind you to check it out.

I'll give you the character matches on Ao3 too.

All #Batwoman things I do now are in the name of #SaveBatwoman. Go follow all the social handles and support the cause, please. We are LIVING over Javicia's portrayal of #RedDeath, so come join the fun if you aren't already.

[nancypullen]

Sunday the 4th

Where was I?  I think when I last posted we were just about to run over to Rehoboth Beach to see/hear David Sedaris at BrowseAbout Books.  It was SO much fun!  We went to see him several times in Nashville, but it was always in a theater setting at TPAC.  Ever entertaining, he reads essays he’s working on, takes questions, talks about his book tour and all that - but meeting him in a more intimate setting and having a chat was so much better!  Let me back up a bit and talk about the nice woman I met in line.  Her name is Lynnie, she’s a few years older than me, and she lives in Lewes, Delaware (I looked at A LOT of wonderful real estate there, but we deemed it too far from the Edgewaters), and she sang the praises of her town.  She goes to Zumba and water aerobics (I could just cry), she takes tap lessons from an old Rockette (OMG, how fun!), she participates in everything from book club to Bunco. She was so much fun and just so sweet - she gave me her number and told me to call her if I visited Lewes.  It was almost like having a friend. Waaaaah!

She was a delight. Back to the bookstore.  I fan girl over authors the way some people do over film stars or singers, and Mr. Sedaris didn’t disappoint.  He was warm, witty, engaging, hilarious, and when he signed my book he doodled in it.  It was the flowers from my shirt.  He drew in everyone’s books, making conversation while did a quick sketch and for some reason it was funny.  Mickey got a bird.

I had him sign my book for Matt.  I read the book on my Kindle when it came out last year.  This book tour is to launch the paperback.  Matt is also a fan, and I thought he’d enjoy the book.  I loved it.  Anyway, it was a wonderful evening and we headed home through the cornfields as the sun set.

The following evening Mickey had a big party to photograph so I stayed home and watched the finale of Ted Lasso and bawled.  Oh, it was so satisfying.  If you’re a fan you’ve probably already watched it so I’m not spoiling anything by saying that I was so glad that Rebecca got her happy ending.  But now I’m without my favorite happy, positive people to watch.  Bummer. These two....

and these two....oh, my heart!

*SIGH*  I’ll miss it like I miss Schitt’s Creek.  Good stuff. This weekend we crossed the bridge to celebrate Tyler’s birthday.  We stayed with Little Miss so Ty and Jamie could go run free for a bit, then we all shared dinner, presents, and brownies with ice cream.  It was such fun.  In just a couple of months the grandgirl will be in kindergarten, she’s grown up so much just since we moved here.  We’ll drive over to attend her preschool graduation on Friday.  I know that in the blink of an eye it’ll be middle school and then high school graduation. Yikes!  I’d love to pump the breaks on all of that, but I’m glad we’re here to enjoy it.  On the way home I always try to snap a picture of the big ships lined up in the Chesapeake Bay.

They’re waaaay out there so I can’t get a clear shot from a moving car, but I love seeing them.  I found a website that identifies each ship and its origin country, so I’ll pull it up on my phone and see that one is traveling under the flag of Japan, another from Brazil, or whatever.  You can usually pull up information showing their last port of call and sometimes what they’re carrying.  Don’t ask me why I find it all fascinating, I just do.  I look out at those massive ships and imagine the different languages, music, and meals onboard.  

  In other news, no, they haven’t caught the python yet.  That’s why I gave a resounding NO when the mister asked if I wanted to go kayaking today.  Well, that and kayaking doesn’t interest me at all. But kayaking with a chance of a python popping up is a thousand times less appealing than normal kayaking. Hard pass.  Mickey and I have very different ideas of enjoyable activities, especially for fitness.  He wants to scramble over rocks, drift down rivers (and have to paddle against the current coming back), stomp through poison ivy, and become a host for ticks.  I prefer a nice, climate controlled activity with a group of women, a soundtrack, and maybe a cold beverage afterward.  Zumba, Jazzercise, water aerobics, that sort of thing. I never got a single tick at the Jimmy Floyd pool. Just sayin’.  I’m past the age where I want to be uncomfortable. I get plenty of exercise working in the yard, I get a dose of sunshine, and I can play tunes or a crime podcast while I do it.  Then I sit in my  shady nook on the porch and enjoy a cool drink.  Won’t be long before this patch is all zinnias and sunflowers.

While I was enjoying a beverage in my shady spot, I flipped through the local paper.  There was a section listing all of the “Best of the Chesapeake” from hair salons to BBQ to physicians.  This one made me giggle.

Speech therapists! Can you imagine having a speech issue and having to call and make an appointment with any of those names??  Impossible! I did not see a category for best snake catchers on the Eastern Shore. Oh well, the day is slipping away from me and I need to get dinner started.  Kind of wishing Mickey had something to go photograph so I could just pop some popcorn and say I had veggies for dinner.  Not gonna’ happen, guess I’d better get busy.

Sending out loads of love.  I hope you’ve all had a wonderful weekend.  If not, then be glad it’s over, have a gaze at what’s left of the Strawberry Moon tonight and tell the universe that you need a break from your troubles. Stay safe, stay well. XOXOXO, Nancy

[mrsjellymunson]

That Was You?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader; Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Summary: A meet cute in a record store. That’s literally it.

WC: 1.6k

CW: SFW, FLUFF, swearing, flirting, awkwardness, reader relives an embarrassing situation. Reader’s physical characteristics are not described. Brief mentions of the devil’s lettuce and non-consensual touching. This was supposed to turn into a story but never did, and it was too cute to waste. IDK how homemade volcanoes or US schooling years work so if I’ve messed up let’s all just pretend I didn’t 😂 The gorgeous Eddie edit in the banner is by the utterly fantastic @jqmunson 🙏👏

I have a general taglist now, just ask if you’d like to be on it 😊

My Masterlist

1️⃣9️⃣9️⃣0️⃣

You’d first become aware of him in High School. You were a freshman and he was, theoretically, in his final year. But then you’d unexpectedly had two extra years in which to ogle observe him and commit his form to memory.

‘Crush’ would be an understatement. ‘Obsession’ would be more accurate. You’d doodle his name in your notebooks, covering the characters with pictures of roses or skulls, or hearts done with thick markers, before anyone saw. You’d always sit where you could watch him across the lunch hall, wondering what it would be like to hear one of his world-changing rants up close, or join in with that game he played.

But he was four years older than you, practically a lifetime in High School terms. So you always kept your dreams to yourself, not once even daring to catch his eye, let alone talk to him.

So when you see a familiar-looking, black-clad silhouette as you enter Hawkins’ only record store, you’re pretty sure it’s him. Eddie Munson.

You freeze. You’d come in to browse their ‘Rock/Metal/Indie’ section to look for a gift for your cousin, not that you really had any clue about what to look for, but a figure was already there. His presence somehow pervades the entire aisle, despite there being numerous bins of discs to look through.

The shoulders are broader than the ones you remember. The deep chestnut hair is longer, down to the figure’s mid-back, and by the looks of the shiny and softly-defined waves, it’s benefitting from a decent product regime. The hands that reach out to browse the cardboard sleeves make you shiver; tattooed and strong-looking, with prominent veins. The rings and bracelets that adorn them are less gaudy and more modern in style than the ones you recall from school; they look fantastic. And those biceps fill the sleeves of that tight, black shirt better than those of the skinny teen you once idolised. And even if it’s not him, you’re still enjoying the view, because those faded black jeans fit whoever it is really, really well…

You stand there gaping for a few moments, the hand nearest to your messenger bag clamping and releasing around the strap.

You swallow hard. You must look like an idiot, standing there in the middle of the aisle like a startled deer. But by the way your legs are shaking, you kinda feel like one.

Okay, just walk forwards. You need to look at the records anyway. Just… move your legs. There you go! See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Just go and stand next to him. If it is him, he’s not gonna bite. Okay, maybe you wish he would, but that’s a mental image for another time…

You slowly meander up to the racks of records, trailing a finger along them hoping it makes you look like you know what you’re doing: a knowledgeable music fan just casually browsing for new tunes. Yeah, that’s it, you can totally pull this off.

You stop short of where he stands, leaving a gap of a couple of bins between you. It’s close enough for you to catch his scent: cologne, cigarettes and a hint of the subtle earthy sweetness of another smokable.

You flick a couple of the records back and forth and inhale half a breath and huff it out, as if in thought. Not loud, just enough to let the figure know you’re there.

He turns his head towards you, and it makes the waves of his hair sway slightly. They shimmer and settle around his shoulders as he cracks a polite but friendly closed-mouth smile in your direction.

Fuck. You’d know those deep pools of melted cacao anywhere, and the merest hint of a dimple appearing in the cheek closest to you seals the deal. It’s definitely him.

As you make eye contact with the boy you had a crush on for practically your entire High School career, you offer a slight half smile back to him. At least, that’s what you hope you do, as you suppress a squeak that threatens to leave your chest. You acknowledge that it’s entirely possible you just look like you need to pass wind.

After what seems like a millennia, but in reality is probably only just slightly longer than is necessary, the figure turns back to the records in front of him. He continues to browse, but you think you see his eyes flick in your direction occasionally as he makes a show of checking out the album artwork of some band you’ve never heard of.

You’re nervous as all hell, but something inside you can’t risk losing this opportunity. You’ve got the chance to actually talk to him for the first time ever, and you really wanna take it.

Bravely, you take deep breath, and mutter,

“Hey, is it…?”

Your voice dies in your throat. He cocks his head slightly towards you, a quizzical look on his face.

God, he’s still so pretty.

Okay, that didn’t go well, but in for a penny, as they say…

“Are you…?”

Again, the words dry up in your mouth. Flustered, you almost give up, huffing out a breath and slumping your shoulders.

You close your eyes for a moment, before deciding to give it one more go, quickly blurting out, “Is your name Eddie?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.” He looks at you fully now, lifting a brow and quirking one side of his mouth up in a smirk.

Shit. This is so embarrassing. He obviously doesn’t remember you. Why would he, you never spoke. Plus, you’ve changed a lot since school so why would you imagine he’d recognise you even if he did?

“Sorry. I’m- Ah fuck, I shouldn’t have bothered you, I’m just gonna take what few shreds of dignity I have left and just, y’know, go.”

You turn on your heel and take a couple of wide strides, planning to hightail it out of there, move away, leave the state, maybe even leave the country. But a gentle hand brushing against your upper arm stops you.

He’s quickly closed some of the distance between you, and is looking at you with a soft smile and genuine interest.

“No, wait. Please! You can’t leave without giving me at least some clue as to how we know each other.”

You slowly turn back to him, to find him cocking his head to one side in contemplation.

All you can do is blink at him, so Eddie starts speculating.

Warily, he begins, “Do I owe you money?” His eyes flash with mischievous excitement, “Do you owe me money?” Wincing, ”Do you have an older brother who beat me up in high school?” Then finally, more discreetly, “Do you maybe, um, need weed?”

You’re finally able to speak.

“No. No. It’s none of those. But we did go to high school at the same time. I was even more of a nerd than the guys you hung out with, if I recall.”

You tell him your name, like it would make a difference.

It’s your turn to wince now. Eddie still looks blank, registering zero recognition. You sigh, knowing there’s one thing he might remember. Bashfully, you continue,

“I’m the one who made the blood volcano disaster at that end of year science fair…”

Your most mortifying High School memory. Oh god, why the hell did you bring that up?

But it’s something that Eddie remembers.

His eyes blow wide and his eyebrows disappear into his bangs. Grinning maniacally, mouth wide open, he almost yells,

“Oh my god, that was awesome! The chemistry accident that made the hall look like that scene from The Shining? That was you?”

He looks amazed, and takes half a step towards you. It’s like he’s meeting one of his favourite celebrities.

He furrows his brow a little as he squints at you, looking you up and down. Pinching his chin between his thumb and first knuckle, he remarks,

“Wait, you do look kinda familar now… But- also a lot different…”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. Not all of us nail down our personal style in high school, y’know”. You gesture to his all black outfit.

Eddie looks down at himself, before looking back up at you and responding with faux seriousness, “Hey, I’ll have you know this is timeless. Time. Less.”

You grin at each other. He continues,

“Y’know, people still talk about that. The giant volcano turned blood corridor thing. I bet you’d still find stains under the floor panels, if you looked hard enough!”

You bring a hand to your face, feeling its heat beneath your palm.

“Oh, please stop! It was embarrassing enough at the time. I really don’t wanna relive it! Besides, it wasn’t entirely my fault. I was distracted when I measured out the ingredients because I’d just given Tommy Hagan a black eye for touching my ass.”

“Really?”

He’s beaming now, his smile as broad as you’ve ever seen it, eyes wide and deep dimples fully on display.

“Oh, you gotta tell me all about that. That guy was such an asshole. But seriously, sweets, that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen! You know, it was almost enough to get me interested in science. Almost. You should always be proud of that, and I’m totally serious.”

As you reel slightly from him calling you sweets, Eddie takes you in properly for the first time. His gaze wanders your form, then briefly flicks back to the display of records before meeting yours again.

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“Hey, uh, I'm pretty much done here. It’s hot out and I was gonna, um, go get a cold drink. Youuu… maybe wanna join me? Reminisce a bit more about the ole’ high school experience?”

He screws his face up at that last part. You muse that he realises the reminder of the age gap and how you know each other probably doesn’t make for the most enticing offer.

But you smile and twist in your place a little, your face and neck heating as you reply,

“Yeah, Eddie. I think I’d like that…”

“Great! Uh, great.”

You both turn and start to amble out of the store, a lot closer than you were a few moments ago, arms almost brushing. You spot a slight pink tinge to his cheeks as he turns his head to face you again, and you return his smile as he says to you,

“Goddamn. Tommy Hagan, huh? I can’t wait to hear the rest of that story.”

Thanks so much for reading!

Editing to add THIS edit by @sofiiel, which is so gorgeous and also so appropriate for this story 🧡

As always, if you enjoyed please support and reward your creators with comments and reblogs 💗

I have a general taglist now, so let me know if you’d like to see more ramblings like this.

My Masterlist

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson

[nightimeowl]

2. An Open File

Amy’s grip tightened on the yellow pole right as the bus came to a slow strong halt that had her and a few others standing jerk to the side before catching themselves. She was holding onto the pole, her thumb hovering over the red bottom as she waited for the bus to open it’s doors. Once it did, she shouted a quick thanks towards the driver before jumping off onto the sidewalk.

She pulled out her phone and opened her email, finding the email she was looking for quickly as she had saved it the moment she received it. Amy was met with childish handwriting welcoming her to the team, a few doodles scrawled here and there. Underneath the banner was a computer generated message telling her when her first day was and where to get her employee lanyard.

Amy looked up her phone and glanced over the large building she’d be working at for the next couple of weeks. She walked through the vast parking lot, a few trailers and trucks holding props and costumes. She saw the other side of the lot was filled with cars, one in particular caught her attention more than the others.

She had to stop walking towards the entrance of the building to take a small detour towards the comically small car that she’d expect a toddler to ride in. It was a bright pink with darker hues of the same color lined across parts of the vehicle.

This…this had to be a joke. Right?

Amy couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled past her lips and took a picture before power-walking her way over to the entrance side door per her emailed instructions. She didn’t even take a few steps in the building before being tackled by an unknown force. “Woah!”

Her phone fell on the ground with a loud clack as she dropped to the ground, unable to catch her footing on time. Amy laughed when she registered the thing that knocked her down was a large, hairy dog, curiously sniffing around her coat’s chest pockets and licking her hands.

“Aww, hey big guy! What’s your name?” She sat up and held the dog’s head in both hands, ruffling his shaggy fur. The sound of the dog’s metal tags clicking against each other as she pet him caught her attention and she glanced down to read his name.

“Ollie.” She read out loud. “Good boy, Ollie.” Ollie barked and started to climb onto her lap to lick her face.

“Ollie!”

The dog pulled away from her hands to look behind him, tail still wagging happily. Amy looked up too, hearing someone calling for the dog and a pair of footsteps growing louder in their direction.

“Ollie, get over here.” A man with a red shirt and a blue lanyard hanging off his neck made his way towards them. The dog didn’t listen, instead it had just looked back at her before slowly dipping his head to the ground and rolling onto his back, exposing his underbelly for more pets.

“Young lady, you’re not supposed to be back here.” The man turned his attention to Amy, ignoring the happy dog receiving belly runs from his new best friend.

“Actually, I am.” She didn’t even realize that she’d walked right into the middle of a scene. A bit embarrassed, she pulled away from the dog to get herself off the ground. The man reached down to help her get back up on her feet. “I’m new here.”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I graduated early.” Was Amy’s immediate response.

Before the man could retort, a woman approached them. “Oh, you must be Amanda.”

“Amy–”

“Right, Amy.” The woman interrupted dismissively. “Come with me, I’ll take you to Johnathan, he’s the film director.”

Amy nodded. She brushed off as much stray dog fur as she could before following the older woman, dog in tow.

The silence was a bit uncomfortable at first as they walked further into the building. Amy caught a glimpse of the set where there was a bright colorful background with a few familiar puppets talking amongst themselves off to the side.

“He’ll be here in a bit, just wait here.” The woman patted her shoulder and walked away in a hurry. Amy just nodded and stood there, waiting for the director.

She looked around the set, taking in her surroundings. There was a crew of makeup artists, camera men, and technicians walking around either walking around or waiting on standby. Amy never realized just how much went into make these types of shows, being here would definitely change the way she looked at movies for a while.

Amy looked at her watch. 9:18, it read.

The seventeen year old really hoped that her new routine wouldn’t be found out by anyone from school, home, or work at the station. Thankfully, she managed to find a way to stay with the program while also going to work here. Her dad and Fallon think she’s in school and she usually takes public transportation so she doesn’t need to worry about them finding out she’s skipping class. Speaking of classes, she called in sick and asked one of her friends to pretend to be her dad so she’ll be set for at least a week.

Hopefully, that’s all the time she’ll need.

Now, all she has to do is pray that no one from school runs into her and Amy would be set. She’d been preparing for this since the moment she got into work the next day after the murder of the woman.

─ ·𖥸· ─

Amy was out of breath and feeling hot when she’d thrown herself into the elevator, smashing the button that brought her up to homicide. The elevator dinged and the metal doors parted, allowing Amy to step out and rush over to Alex’ desk before she’d run into a most familiar face amidst all the uniformed officers rushing and pushing about. Her heart jumped when she saw who it was.

“Kareem! You’re not- but how?- are you okay? What happened?” She tried to ask the woman. Kareem shook her head.

“I’m fine. Just go see Alex, you have a lot of paperwork to file through.” Detective Kareem dismissed before pulling her aside to continue walking.

“Amy! There you are.” The girl in question jerked a bit when a hand grabbed her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She looked up at Alex and saw him holding up a file in his other hand. “I need you to drop this off in assorted evidence. Can you handle it?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Amy immediately responded. Anything to get out of the suffocating environment of the homicide department.

“Thanks.” Amy nodded and they both walked off in separate directions, she made her way towards the elevator. She clicked the single bottom with an arrow pointing to the ground and waited until the doors opened for her to step inside.

The moment the doors began to close, she pulled open the file. Amy read over the information, quickly realizing that this was the evidence of the murder of the woman she saw in the article the other day. For the most part, the media was starting to catch wind of this and the news was starting to spread like rapid fire.

Amy scanned over the file as quickly as she could, learning that the woman who was murdered was an English Major and had her foot in the door at a studio after she graduated with honors as a screenwriter. Amy frowned. She’d read several closed cases and always hated it when it was good people who were murdered.

From the statements of family and friends, this woman, Alysa Caregs, was considered a role model student throughout her school years. She spent a large amount of her time at work and with family. If she wasn’t with either, she was helping her neighbor with babysitting the kids so she could take a break because the dad wasn’t in the picture. By all accounts, Alysa was someone who seemed to have their life in check. Healthy relationships, a well paid job, and was quite a rare gem in the sense that she was part of the older generation but was openly an activist for puppet rights.

Amy sighed, she should’ve lived a long life. From the looks of things, it seems like she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Random murders were hard to solve because of the lack of connections to the victim.

Why did it always have to be the good ones?

Amy took a few pictures of the file and closed it back up. She found herself thinking about Alysa as she exited the elevator and walked down the halls until she reached her destination.

“Hey Charlie!” She opened the door to greet the friendly blond that was usually here. “Charlie?”

Amy glanced up at the clock and sighed. Since she got here, she made it a habit to remember schedules, it was convenient to know where the person she was looking for is most likely to be.

With that said, Charlie was on his lunch break.

While she waited for the man to return, she looked over Alysa’s description with more determined focus.

After the man returned, Amy made sure the file went through processing before going back upstairs to do her job and go home. Once the clock struck four, Amy was already getting up and bidding everyone farewell before running to the front.

It took a while for her brother to get there, which agitated her a bit, but they eventually arrived home. Amy all by threw herself out the vehicle before making her way upstairs and shutting the door.

First thing she did was find the studio that Alysa worked at before her death and hovered her screen mouse over the bright red button that read “APPLY NOW”.

Amy hesitated. Was she really about to do this? All she needed to do was stay long enough to get what she needed to confirm her suspicions and get out.

She stared at the idiom for a minute longer before forcing herself to just submit her application as a handyman in the studio and close the tab so she could walk out of her room to kick herself over her decision later.

It bothered Amy for days after that. Eventually, after a week with no response, she figured she wasn’t accepted. A part of her was glad she was denied so she wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of lying about it. But she also caught something in the file she read that day that made her gut twist in suspicion.

It surprised her to have actually gotten an email with childish scribble written on the poster.

WELCOME…

TO THE TEAM!

Hello Amanda, we’ve looked over your resume and we’re pleased to let you know that you’ve been accepted in this position.

Please come to the studio for your first shift starting Monday at 9. There is an entrance to the studio right beside the parking lot. If you do not already have a uniform, one will be provided to you.

For security purposes, please keep this code to yourself. This code will expire in 15 minutes…

─ ·𖥸· ─

Amy sighed as she tried to push her racing thoughts out of her mind, swiping a hand down her face as she stood there, waiting for the director to introduce himself and hopefully guide her to the locker room–

“Oh good, you got Ollie.”

Amy jumped in surprise, turning around to look at the person who got her attention. “Christ on a stick, you scared me.”

She immediately recognized him as one of the infamous actors from the show this studio ran. Much like the rest of the characters, he was hard to forget. Cartoonishly tall, four arms and legs, two antennas atop his head, and of course, bright green.

“Hah, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to make you jump like that.” The puppet let out a small chuckle. “You alright there?”

“I’m perfectly fine, just caught me off guard, that’s all.” Amy smiled, turning to face him completely. She extended her hand. “I’m Amy, by the way.”

The caterpillar puppets smiled brightly and took her hand in two of his. “Name’s Howdy, great to meet you.”

They shook hands and pulled apart. Howdy reached down to scratch Ollie’s head. “So, you Ollie’s handler?”

“I wish. He's such a sweetheart.” Amy chuckled. “But no, I’m the new maintenance worker.”

The puppet chuckled. “First day?”

“Yeah, first day.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He reassured her with a smile.

“Thanks.”

They two chatted a bit more before the dog's ear perked up and he looked behind him, ale art and searching. Ollie ran off towards someone who already had their arms outstretched for the dog. That must be the owner.

“Well, that’s my cue!” Howdy looked over at his friends who were gesturing for him to come over. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Amy.”

Amy smiled, seeing someone she assumed was the director headed her way. “It was a pleasure to meet you too.”

By the time the director had reached Amy, Howdy had joined his friends and Ollie was already there waiting for the scene to begin.

“You must be Amy, I’m Johnathan. I’m the director here.” He extended his hand to greet her, Amy copying his gesture as they shook hands.

“Yup, that’s me.” Amy pulled her hand back to her sides as Johnathan gestured for her to follow. “John works fine though.”

He didn’t look back at her when he spoke. They stopped a few meters directly in front of the set before he picked up some papers from a foldable chair that she assumed was his. “On your way to the break room, do you think you can drop this off with Maria? She’s one of the security guards. The surveillance room is right around the corner, if you keep going straight and take a left, the second door on your left is the break room, hard to miss.”

John held out the papers for her to take it off his hands. “Think you got it?”

Amy ran through his directions in her head, taking the papers, before nodding. “I got it.”

“Amazing.” John moved to sit in his seat. The camera man came up behind her and began setting up. Amy took this as her cue to leave.

Amy quickly bid farewell and took off, papers tucked under her arm. Walking around the corner and out of sight, she made her way to the security office.

> Chapter 1: The Program <

> Chapter 3: Little Jitter Bug <