#sping cleaning

[dullgecko]

Some Gukgak headcanons ^^

1) Riz has near-daily headaches from hitting the cliff stairway at the end of Sping Break.

2) He likes to hide in the Bad Kids' lockers occasionally and will attempt to jumpscare them when they open the door.

-on occasion he falls asleep in them, much like he does when he's in their backpacks.

-he also rigged Fabain's once to spray him in glitter. Instead of being mad, Fabian made no intention of cleaning up and waltzed around coated in pink and gold glitter for the rest of the day.

-he accidentally jumpscared a young student who mixed up her and Adaine's lockers, leading most of the freshman to be absolutely terrified of the resident Oracle and the goblin that they presume is just paid to live in her locker and protect her stuff.

3) While he isn't the best at cooking, he did it a lot when Sklonda had irregular shifts and couldn't be home for dinner. One day in middle school he learned that his mom's favorite comfort food was mac-and-cheese, so he mastered the recipe and makes the arguably best mac-and-cheese in Elmville. (After the end freshman year, he began to add a "mystery meat" to his recipe. No one except the Bad Kids and Sklonda seem to know what kind it is.)

4) Despite being traumatized from Kalina, Riz LOVES cats. A lot of strays hang out near Strongtower, so he often goes out to feed them.

5) He draws backgrounds. Like, a lot. From the school campus to Farhaven Woods to the little dining area of Basrar's. He isn't even passionate about art, it's just a passtime. Fig and Gorgug, who love to draw but can't draw backgrounds to save their lives, are constantly pestering him about it, but Riz always denies that he draws well, or tries to teach them and fails spectacularly.

That's all I got. Sorry if it's a lot XD

He doesnt mention the headaches to anyone, just takes painkillers and tries to move on with his day. Adaine is the one who notices that he has a bottle of headache tablets in his locker and another in his office and that its a new one practically every other week and gets concerned. She convinces him to go to the school nurse to get it checked out because he's been healed several times between when it first started and now and obviously that didnt fix the problem.

2)

Riz gets extra credit in his rogue classes for breaking into places without being detected. Lockers are a good way to meet the requirement because he has to relock them somehow from the inside for no one to notice he's in there. Trap setting is also an extra credit so sometimes he does both at once.

He'll purposefully take a nap in one if he knows his friends arent carrying a bag big enough for him to hide in that day. He knows they'll have to swing past his locker eventually and will wake him up for his next class.

3)

Mmmm, delicious dragon meat mac and cheese. Sadly, despite how good it was, the mystery meat leftovers only lasted a few weeks.

4)

He likes cats a lot. They're soft and cute and aren't freaked out by his claws. Plus they purr just like him when you scratch the right spot between their ears. Dogs he's a little wary of though, especially the bigger ones. They dont seem to like goblins very much.

5)

Riz taught himself to draw backgrounds just in case he ever saw a crime scene and wasnt able to pull out a camera without getting stopped. He's really good at sketching them out quickly and can hold onto the small details for a fairly long time in order to add them in later.

[dhiings]

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ Jane's family ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Jane's an only child. She used to live with both of her father and mother in Scotland  But, after her father passed away, she and her mother decided to move to South Korea.

CAVAN ENNIS ANNISTON [papa] BORN : October 24, 1965, Manchester, United Kingdom DIED : December 25,  2006 SPOUSE : Choi Hwa Young (1994--2006) CHILDREN : 1 ETHNICITY : British  OCCUPATION : Veterinary CLOSENESS : 5/5 NICKNAME BY JANE : papa others... • Her father treat her like a princess. If there's anything Jane wants, he will get/buy/made it for her . Literally, the definition of papa's princess. • Their love languages toward each other are mainly quality time, acts of service, and physical touch. • Jane was told that when she was still a toddler, she get very jealous when her father is only paying attention to her mother. • Always stick like a glue, even when her father is working in a vet clinic his dad owns. • Since her father passed away on Christmas Day, she decided to tell her mother that she doesn't enjoy Christmas as she used to be. So, they stopped celebrating it in like festive way and treat it like a normal day passing by. • Her favourite memories w/ her papa : Going to loch/lake during winter time to learn ice skating. Visiting her dad's vet clinic. Bedtime stories. Her father sharing all kinds of information about animal life, especially the one who live in ocean/water(?). Seeing her father brought bouquet for her mom and herself.

CHOI HWA YOUNG (최화영) [eomma] BORN : April 19, 1970, Seoul, South Korea SPOUSE : Cavan Ennis Anniston (1994--2006) CHILDREN : 1 ETHNICITY : Korean OCCUPATION : Medical Director  CLOSENESS : 4/5 NICKNAME BY JANE : eomma others.. • Compared to her father, Jane didn't spend that much time with her mother as a kid because her mother was busy with her study and work in the medicine field. • Because of her busy schedule, her mother make it up by having a mother-daughter day every twice a week. • Their love languages toward each other are mainly words of affirmation, receiving gifts, and physical touch. • Her mother is heart broken when she knows her daughter was bullied in school when she moved to Seoul. She decided to move her to international school so she could adjust better. • Jane's finally getting to know her grandparents when she moved to Korea. They love her so much. • Iconic moment when Jane just found out that her mother's side is very verry rich on internet several years after her debut. • Her favourite memories w/ her eomma : Learning how to do pottery in the garage but ended up sping cleaning it because it got very messy and slashed of clay everywhere. Collecting shells when going to a beach. Picnic in a field full of bellflower. Baking madeira cake and jammy dodgers as a tradition for every year, it started because her mother wants to make it for her husband but kept on failing, thus why she always practice to make it until it's perfect with Jane.

[acasualcrossfade]

It’s On the House

Written for @thefreakandthehair Sping Fanworks Challenge 2023, Prompt: Mud

Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie, Steve and Eddie

Words: 4326

Read this on Ao3 and find me at thunderously_halo over there :)

Summary: Steve works at Ungrounded, Hawkins’s new café in town next to the record store. When a person clad in all black bikes up with a guitar on his back, Steve is intrigued. Through many closing shifts, Steve learns more about the person, Eddie, and eventually helps Eddie after he gets caught in the rain.

--

“Large iced coffee and a chocolate chip loaf, warmed for Megan!” Steve called, holding up the bagged dessert as he slid the freshly made coffee forward. He turned back to the machine to foam milk for the cappuccino. He stepped to the side to let his boss, Keith, place a cup on the pick-up counter.

“Tuesday Special for Hannah!” Keith called.

As much as Steve hated closing shifts, he hated the company-mandated uniform a bit more. The uniform was no more than a tan-colored shirt and jeans, but the shirt was his least favorite. It had the words “Get Ungrounded” written in groovy letters on the front, and had a giant printed coffee bean on the back.

“I’m gunna go on break,” Keith said, scooting past Steve.

Steve sighed, already knowing that was code for I’m leaving, close up on your own . He was used to it by now, and as the last of the evening rush dwindled, Steve felt the familiar peace that came with the closing shift. A few of his evening regulars were already seated at their usual tables; the booths on the side were left empty except for one study group that sometimes came in around finals season.

The quiet of the café was his favorite. As the sun started to set, the streetlights glowed brighter against the dimming sky.

Traffic thinned and bikers were scarce.

Which was why when a biker whizzed past the window, Steve’s head snapped up in surprise. He abandoned all thought of cleaning the next table and watched as the figure on the bike, dressed in all black, gracefully dismounted. It wasn’t until the figure turned to lock their bike that Steve made out the hardback guitar case strapped to their back. The two seemed to move together as one, and Steve was sure if he strapped a guitar on his back, he wouldn’t look like that.

Steve finished wiping down the table before glancing up at the biker again. The figure had removed his helmet and was walking towards the coffeeshop. Their long hair flowed along with them, and Steve suddenly panicked.

Was it cooler to meet him at the counter or greet him at the door?

Why was he suddenly worried about that?

He was saved from having to figure it out as the man headed into the record shop next door.

A rush of relief seeped through Steve, and he went back to cleaning tables.

--

Steve was in the middle of bussing tables when the door opened and a customer walked in. He grabbed the last of the dirty mugs before heading towards the counter.

“One minute,” he called, before setting them all in the sink behind the register. And when Steve looked up, he immediately recognized the man standing at the counter.

It was the biker from earlier.

The biker stood patiently at the counter, taking his time to read the menu and glance at the dessert case. The man looked comfortable in his dark gray shirt and denim jacket, and his skinny black jeans were ripped in the knees. The light breeze from the coffee shop's weak AC blew the man’s flyaway curls around his face and made his features look soft and welcoming. The man carried his guitar case, and had set it down to lean against the counter.  

His brown eyes studied the sweets and he rocked back and forth slowly as he contemplated, then turned his interest to the snacks along the side of the counter.

“What can I get for you?” Steve asked politely, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking. It always happened when he was nervous. The man had this gracefulness to him, and Steve automatically felt pulled in by it. His apron suddenly felt crooked and he fought the urge to straighten it.

The man’s gaze traveled from the snacks to the small card of specials next to the register. His brow furrowed as a soft smile played on his quirked lips. “What’s the Tuesday Special?”

“It’s a java chip Frappuccino with strawberry and peppermint drizzle,” Steve explained. “And you can get it with or without whipped cream. It’s pretty popular.”

The man nodded approvingly and spent a moment debating before finally shaking his head. “Another day. But can I grab a chamomile tea instead? Large?”  

Steve typed in the order and then looked up again. “And what’s the name for the order?”

The man shifted to the other leg. “Oh, Eddie is good. E-D-D-I-E, though,” he said, standing on his tip-toes to peek over as Steve wrote on the cup. “Not E-D-D-Y.”

“Gotcha.” Steve wrote it on the cup. Eddie. The name fit him.

“And can you do me a favor?” Eddie asked, his voice going quieter. “Or, well, can I make an order in advance?”

Steve glanced around at the quiet coffee shop before nodding. The evening rush had died down, leaving the coffee shop in a quiet ambience. The evening regulars sipped their coffees and there were a few study groups gathered at some of the tables.

“Yeah, sure. I can also bring it to your table since it’s not too busy,” Steve mentioned.

“That’d be great.  I’m waiting for someone and I want to order for them.” Eddie thought for a moment. “It’ll be a medium hot chocolate with whipped cream with a bit of cinnamon sprinkled over it? And can you bring it in like, 20 minutes or so?”

Steve added a note about the hot chocolate before putting in the order. “So it’s one hot chocolate with whipped cream and a bit of cinnamon,” Steve repeated as Eddie nodded along. “Okay Eddie, I’ll have that ready for you in a bit.” Steve took a handful of crumpled bills from Eddie and handed him his change.  

When Steve handed him his tea, Eddie smiled once more before heading back towards the windows, taking a seat at one of the booths in the far corner.

A few more people trickled in, and Steve watched as a young kid headed to Eddie’s booth. In one hand, the kid held his windbreaker and in the other, a briefcase.

Steve hid his smile as he watched Eddie jump up to greet the kid, pulling him in for a tight hug. He placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder as he spoke to him and Steve watched the young boy nod a few times before hugging Eddie again.

They must know each other pretty well.

It wasn’t until the boy sat down and opened the briefcase that Steve realized it was a case of colored pencils.

The boy fished a few figurines from his jacket pocket and Steve watched as the two started exchanging pencils and erasers. Steve was sidetracked from his watch as a few more students came in for a light night caffeine fix. By the time he glanced back at Eddie and the boy, they were both sketching quietly.

Moving easily through his evening duties, Steve carefully rinsed the dirty mugs and closed up the sticky syrups. He snuck glances at Eddie’s booth more than he should, and each time he saw them, both were in deep concentration.

They pair worked in quiet tandem; the boy shaded something furiously as Eddie sketched quietly. They’d each turn the figurine every now and again to capture it in different stances. And Steve found that Eddie looked most comfortable with one leg hugging his chest, and his other stretched in front of him. There was a quiet, unspoken bond between the two; more than once, Steve caught sight of the boy holding up his drawing and Eddie giving him a high-five and a wide smile.

Work was busy enough to keep Steve at the counter, even though he burned with curiosity to see what they were drawing. Between drawings, they sipped their drinks and at one point, both of them dissolved into giggles at the kid’s whipped cream mustache.

Steve caught the boy’s name as they laughed. Will.

Steve’s finished stacking the clean mugs as laughs burst from the back table. Eddie and Will are giggling over one of Will’s drawings, both talking about something called a Thessalhydra.

Steve made a mental note to look up what a Thessalhydra was.

--

Steve just finished collecting the dirty mugs from the Tuesday evening rush when he caught Eddie walking through the door. Instinctively, he straightened his apron and headed to the counter.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Steve was glad his voice stayed even.

“I’m thinking I want something sweet. Is there anything you’d recommend…” Eddie paused and leaned closer over the counter to peer at the nametag clipped to Steve’s apron. “Anything you’d recommend, Steve?”  Eddie rocked back and forth as he studied the dessert case.

Steve’s ears warmed at the way Eddie said his name. Somehow, Eddie made it sound more melodious than five letters.

“Well,” Steve started. “That chocolate chip loaf is pretty popular, and we’ve got some good donuts, too.” Steve searched the bottom of the case, but shook his head. “Our iced raspberry lemon loaf is good, too, but it looks like we’re sold out.”

Eddie tapped his chin before pointing to the loaf at the top. “I’ll give the chocolate chip loaf a try,” he requested. “And also small mocha.”

Steve smiled. “Good choice.” He took Eddie’s crumpled bills and brought out the man’s order.

“Do you want your loaf warmed?”

Eddie’s face opened into surprise and playfully grasped his chest, pretending to swoon. “I think you just became my hero,” he sighed dramatically before smiling. “I am truly both thankful and amazed such a thing exists.”

Steve waited for Eddie to add an order of hot chocolate like last week, but instead, Eddie handed over a crumpled bill.

“I’ll have that right out for you, Eddie,” Steve said with a nod, and Eddie headed back to his usual table. Instead of colored pencils, Eddie set a worn notebook and pen on the table. Steve could tell that from the way the cover bent upwards, it had been folded and bent backwards multiple times. Eddie settled into his usual perch and started writing.

When Steve brought his mocha and warmed chocolate loaf, Eddie smiled at him with the pen cap wedged between his teeth and Steve felt something warm inside him at the sight.

Steve wondered what he was writing. Could it be songs? Or poetry? He couldn’t dwell on it for long as another few late night students sauntered in. Steve stole a last glance at Eddie, and found he was crossing something out on the page. Steve caught Eddie’s slight frown before turning back to his own evening duties.

Steve glanced up at Eddie once more and found that he’d started gathering his things. As a pair of headlights swung into the parking lot outside, Eddie rushed as he shoved the notebook under his arm and grabbed his guitar. He was almost to the door when he turned to Steve at the counter. “Thanks again for the dessert rec,” Eddie called, and lifted one hand to wave to Steve.

Steve’s ears went warm as he nodded and smiled, raising one hand to wave back.

--

Over the next few weeks, Steve picked up on Eddie’s schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he biked in to teach guitar lessons (Steve saw him chatting with the kid and their parents outside one Tuesday). And Steve learned that Eddie had a specific drink depending on what he was doing there; art with Will meant a large chamomile tea and anything that dealt with the black notebook meant anything caffeinated paired with something sweet. Steve discovered that Eddie loved anything sweet, and it only took two weeks for him to nail down a favorite pastry. His usual was now the warmed chocolate chip loaf.

Steve found that he enjoyed picking up these small details about Eddie. Each one felt like collecting a piece of something special. And catching him writing, or better yet, pondering what he could be writing. The entire sight pushed Steve’s heart into overdrive.

Steve spent any free time of his shifts sneaking glances at Eddie as he sketched or wrote.

Was it creepy?  

Steve was no stranger to having evening regulars; he knew that Mr. Westler was recently divorced and Candice and her young son Grant were going to the movies on Friday.

Eddie as a coffee shop regular felt different. No other regular made Steve excited to come in for his closing shifts. And he found that he even hated the uniform a little less.

After a month of observations and a goodbye wave at each shift, Steve begrudgingly accepted that seeing Eddie and serving Eddie was something he looked forward to.

--

It rained hard the next Tuesday shift and Steve looked outside as thunder rolled across the sky. The darkened sky made the overhead lights in the coffee shop glow a warmer yellow.  The water on the window caught the headlights and lighted storefronts from outside, making the windows look like a watercolor painting.

Steve appreciated rainy days. The evening rush wasn’t as busy since people wanted to stay out of the rain, but, there was always a possibility of a rush for people to escape the rain. There’d been a slight rush in the afternoon, and Steve realized as time went on that Eddie most likely had stayed home. A bike whizzed past as Steve handed out a small Americano to a student. He watched curiously as the back wheel flicked up water, causing it to patter against the window. Steve’s brow furrowed.

Biking? In the rain?  

The figure hurried in and it’s clear that they weren’t just wet from the rain. They’re soaked .

Water ran off the sides of the jacket sleeves and some of the patrons stared offensively at the dripping sight. It’s not until the man swiped back a handful of plastered curls when Steve blinked in shock.

“Eddie?” Steve’s heart stuttered, trying not to focus on how wide and innocent Eddie’s eyes looked as he slogged towards the counter. Questions bounced around Steve’s mind, but he cleared his throat and grabbed a few clean rags from under the counter.

It’s the closest thing to something dry that Steve can think of.

“They’re clean,” Steve explained. “And we’ve got some more in the back.”

Eddie immediately pressed the towel to his face and shrugged out of his guitar to lean it against the counter. The water droplets pearled against the hard casing of his guitar case and dark flecks decorated Eddie’s shirt and jacket.

“What….What happened?” Steve asked slowly. He suddenly wished the coffeeshop had bigger towels.

“Caught in the downpour,” Eddie replied quickly as he toweled off his neck and chin. “I never saw it coming,” he sputtered sadly. Eddie shook slightly and Steve realized the flecks on Eddie’s shirt weren’t the design, but were flecks of mud and sediment. Water is caught in his hair like crystals, and they shine down his curls and pearl at his ends. Some of the heavier drops  splash to the floor.

“My uncle would have driven, but he’s already at work.” His face disappeared into the towel again before moved on to his jacket sleeves. “And I didn’t want to cancel the lesson.” He shivered, swiping the towel down the front of his shirt. His hair hung in soaked strands. “But I did not plan to be soaking wet like this. Fuck, it’s cold.”

It isn’t until Eddie starts patting the back of his jacket when he abruptly stopped. He twisted to look at the back, and then turned again, trying to see it better.

Steve suddenly envisioned a kitten chasing its tail.

Eddie cursed quietly. “The mud got sprayed up my jacket,” he moaned. He held up the handful of soggy towels. “Can I get these dirty? Is that okay?” He rotated around  again, trying to get a better look at his back. “Actually, do you mind telling me how bad this is?”

Steve tried to keep his composure, but he was sure that his ears were fire-engine red. “I, uh, it’s not…” Steve thought of skirting around the question, but then he saw that Eddie’s back was splattered with mud. He winced out of sympathy. “It’s pretty dirty,” he finally settled.  

Eddie groaned and studied his jacket. “Do you mind getting some more towels? I think I’ll need a few more.”

There aren’t any more towels under the counter, but Steve grabbed the few stacked next to the sink. “Here, try these.”

Eddie took them and dabbed at his soaked sleeves. “Guess this is coming off, too,” he sighed. The wet denim fought him and he yanked it to free his arm. When he turned to look at the back of his shirt, Steve caught a glimpse of Eddie’s quarter sleeve tattoo. An outline of a wing peeking under his left sleeve.

The weak breeze of the AC did nothing to help Eddie as he shivered in his black short sleeve shirt, and Steve suddenly wished he could wrap him in something warm and dry.

Steve paused, checking the coffee shop. There were only a few people that sat around, and all of them looked served. Steve lowered his voice. “We actually have extra uniforms in the back,” he offered. “It’s not the most stylish…” He glanced down at his own tan monstrosity. “But they’re dry.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? I-I,” Eddie started before shivering. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Keith is gone for the day,” Steve explained. “Besides, he can’t do much more than tell me off a bit.” He shrugged. “We gotta get you outta those wet clothes, come on.” He lifted the counter and it opened like a drawbridge and Eddie stepped carefully behind the counter.

“It’s kinda…fun to be back here,” Eddie mused as he took in the view from the café. “I feel like the king of the café.” He twisted to look at Steve as cleared away the few carts in front of the storage door. “Is this how you feel every day?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Eddie, soaking wet but serving coffee to other evening regulars. “Not exactly, but now that you mention it, Café King does have a nice ring to it.”

Eddie’s squeaky converse followed Steve’s sneakers into the storage room. Steve had only been back there a handful of times, but he didn’t remember it being such close quarters. Eddie felt attached to his back, but Steve found his presence surprisingly warm, despite the man’s shivers. He searched the shelves, certain there were extra shirts somewhere.

“Oo, it’s a little creepy back here,” Eddie whispered. “Looks almost haunted. Have you seen ghosts back here or like, felt cold spots?” He peered at Steve through one of the shelves. “Or have you seen anything out of the ordinary? Something you can’t explain?” Another smirk played at Eddie’s lips.

Steve gave him an intrigued look. “There was that one time I tripped over a sack of beans that were back here.”

“A bag of beans?” Eddi repeated.

“Yep, it was on a cart but I didn’t see either.” Steve nodded towards the wall. “So I redid some of the lighting.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “You...what?”

“Here, flip that switch on the wall?”

Eddie kept his brow furrowed curiously as he slowly flipped the switch by the doorframe. Instead of the expected harsh lighting of a storage room, the lighting of the storage room was done up in yellow Christmas lights that hung, strung from the ceiling.

“Okay, wait,” Eddie paused, looking around. “This is the coolest storage closet I’ve ever seen!” His hair flicked out cold droplets of water as he turned in a slow circle to take it all in.

“Yeah, I sometimes get migraines so this room is a bit darker than the coffee shop ones,” Steve explained. His cheeks heated in muted humiliation; why was he talking about this?  

“It feels so cozy in here,” Eddie replied. “And if anything, you could keep the lights out if you’re sensitive to low lights, too.”

Steve nodded. “Exactly.” He turned to Eddie to ask how he knew about migraines, and immediately was reminded the man was soaking wet. “You must be freezing.” Steve went back to searching the shelves.

“Will gets them. Migraines,” Eddie explained. He hugged himself as Steve searched the next shelf. “Kid’s a trooper, though. He’s better at catching them early.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Sucks that they can start so young, too.” He moved to the next shelf. “Found ‘em!” Steve called, holding up a tan shirt that smelled faintly of stale coffee. “And looks like they left behind some chef’s pants.” Steve held up the black and white checkered pants, holding  back a laugh. “Is small okay for the shirt?”

“This’ll do,” Eddie responded gratefully as he took the shirt. “Thank you so much, Steve. I also did not expect to be doing any of this.”

Steve felt another strong urge to wrap Eddie up and watch him sip warm chocolate. He pushed away the thought. “You can change back here, and if you want, there’s some hangers and such back here if you want to hang up your clothes.”

Eddie looked down at the clothes he held. “That’s so great, thank you. And I can get my clothes back when I return them.”

Steve nodded. “Sounds like an even trade.”

Steve nodded once more before turning out of the room to let the man change. He couldn't help himself as he took one more glance at Eddie, dripping wet under the soft lights.

Eddie emerged from the storage room looking considerably drier. There was more color in his cheeks and he wasn’t shivering.

“You look better,” Steve smiled.

Eddie’s lean frame swam in the shirt, but the tan brought out the chocolate in Eddie’s eyes. Even with the tan shirt paired with the checkered chef’s pants, Eddie looked… cool . His curls were more damp than wet, and some of his usual flyaways did their usual dance in the light breeze of the AC.

Steve blinked. Could this man pull off anything? Or did this mean he liked a man in uniform?

“What, soaking wet isn’t my best look?,” Eddie playfully replied before going serious. “But really, I cannot thank you enough. You’re truly saving my life.” He ducked under the counter and reached for his guitar.

Steve shook his head. “Well, we don’t just let anyone wear the tan,” he laughed.

“It’s an honor, truly,” Eddie laughed. He gave Steve another one of his famous bows. “And are you closing on Thursday?”

“Yeah. “ His ears heated at the thought of Eddie knowing his schedule.  

“Okay, cool, I can bring these back then.”

Steve nodded. “See you then.” Suddenly, he grabbed one of the drink trays. “Here, use this for the way over. It could be a good makeshift umbrella.”

Eddie gave him another grateful look. “You’re a genius, Steve,” he rushed. “Truly.” He grabbed his guitar and held up the drink tray in a wave. “See ya later!”

Steve lifted his own hand up to wave back. “See you!”

It isn't until Steve closed up that he remembered Eddie's clothes in the storage room. He quickly headed back there, and sure enough, the man's jeans and usual denim jacket were laid out on the shelves. Without another thought, Steve grabbed them to take them home to wash.

--

Thursday’s rush is busy enough for Steve to miss Eddie’s graceful dismount, but Steve caught sight of his parked bike as he cleaned up after the evening rush.

Eddie arrived at the café later  with his guitar on his back. “Hey Steve,” he bounced, holding up a paper bag. He took a sneaky look around before placing the bag to the counter. “I’ve got the goods.”

Steve didn’t stand a chance against the smile that broke out on his face. “What are you, a drug dealer?” he joked. He took the bag. “Thanks, though. And besides, Keith left at like, seven thirty. As usual.” He pulled out a bag of Eddie's folded clothes, the ones he took home to wash and dry.

"Steve, you washed these? And folded them?" Eddie gave him a wide-eyed look as he stared into the bag. "You really didn't have to do that."

Steve rubbed his neck nervously. "It's nothing," he replied shyly. "Just a little mud."

Eddie took out his denim jacket and unfolded it before slipping it on. Nice and clean, it seemed to be glad to be back on his shoulders. "Well, thanks again, Steve. I feel like I'd be an Eddie-ice pop without you."

“Speaking of, is today a chamomile tea day or a mocha day?”

Eddie beamed. “I’ll take the usual small mocha and a chocolate chip loaf.”

“Warmed,” Steve added with a smile. His heart squeezed as Eddie beamed at him. He nodded towards Eddie’s notebook that he held under his arm. “So, do you write poetry?”

Eddie gave Steve a shy smile. “No, actually. Songs, they’re songs, well, half-songs. So kind of like poetry.” He patted his pocket before reaching in and producing a small folded piece of paper. “Actually, I’ve got a show coming up next week. It's a pretty small show, but it’ll melt your pretty little face off.”

Steve took the flier and looked it over. “Yeah, I’d-I’d love to come. Thank you.”

Eddie smiled. “And if you need, café-mandated uniforms are okay to wear.”

‘Hey, I thought you were done hating on the tan,” Steve laughed.

Eddie gave him a pointed look. “I’m not hating on it, I’m just saying their welcome at my show.”

And later that night when Eddie wrote, all leg-bouncing and pen-biting, Steve carefully set a second mocha in front of him.

“On the house,” he said.

Steve knew he’d spend the rest of his night remembering Eddie’s million-watt smile.

[xvicxxx]

Growing up I never really cared for the spring. It was always muddy and dead and sunny days often followed with disappointment. Springtime was soft and delicate; yet hard and firm. The soft blue sky, the delectable smell of Earth, fused with harsh winds and red, snotty noses. Blossoming flowers and longer days, with aspirations of new beginnings and fresh starts.

Even now, at twenty five, I don’t know where to go or what to do after coming out of the cold darkness. The twilight zone between two contrasts; darkness and light.

Prying open the windows in desperation to breathe air that is fresh, I think to myself maybe I do enjoy the sping. Cleaning with open windows and birds chirping, the sun casting over the trees, shadows dancing along my plain white walls.

Turning off the thermostat and throwing on my biggest, comfiest sweater I exhale the stale air: hard and dry. It’s as if my heart was in hibernation and now it’s back and aching and loving and feeling.

- Untitled by Jessica Veinot

[bonetrousledbones]

if you're cleaning out your ask box... could you call it "sping" cleaning? (sorry for bad joke)

im gonna be honest i got so used to ppl not realizing that this is a side blog seeing a reference to my main jumpscared me a bit

[mchiti]

No ma veramente poi mi passerà però ora sto nera porca vacca anche il calendario di merda tutti i big match nel giro di poche settimane dove tra l'altro ci mancano giocatori fondamentali (ma a detta di altri abbiamo la rosa lunghissima, si fa male hakan siamo gia con l'acqua alla gola ma va be) e ci giochiamo punti e scontri diretti cosi. Che poi tutte in casa all'andata... Io ci voglio vedere al ritorno, perché secondo te hanno le palle di fare una partita come ha fatto la juve stasera in casa loro? HAHAHAHA quest'anno penso sia gia andato, ma non da ora da quando hanno deciso di puntare su altro.

E mi incazzo perché mercoledi hanno saputo e voluto soffrire e ci sono riusciti (chiaro che il livello delle 2 squadre é diverso però abbiamo preso dei gol da cretini oggi).

Poi non mi spiego perché thuram non abbia tirato quando era solo davanti al portiere e avremmo fatto 5-2. A sto punto per come si era messa (ogni ripartenza mi veniva la morte) ti dico va bene cosi però hai buttato punti e anche autostima per me. Cambi alla cazzo come sempre sopratutto togliendo pavard (basto oggi pure lui non ne ha azzaccata mezza forse era meglio togliere lui e mettere bisseck al posto suo come mercoledi). Scusami per lo sfogo ma mi fanno incazzare di brutto.

Sono d'accordo su tutta la linea!!! Calha è anche fin troppo sottovalutato per l'apporto e la direzione che sta dando a questa squadra da quando è arrivato. Persino il primo anno, con tutto che faceva qualcosa di diverso, si vedeva già cosa poteva essere, e quando ha preso il posto di brozo forse molti non si sono resi conto che a conti fatti...ha fatto girare la squadra meglio di lui. Non discuto e non voglio paragonare i due giocatori singolarmente, ma all'interno di questo contesto inter, di questa inter di inzaghi, calha è fondamentale. Abbiamo preso i primi due gol da scemi ieri ma è pur vero che pure con lo young boys abbiamo concesso occasioni sceme veramente, se abbiamo fatto clean sheet lì è solo per il livello mediocre dell'avversario. Tutto sommato prima dei cambi e nonostante quei gol stavamo reggendo, stavamo dominando. Ieri basto e de vrij non c'hanno capito nulla con conceicao ma se non altro stavamo limitando i danni, zielinski non è certo calha ma è anche vero che sta entrando nelle misure della squadra e non ha neanche fatto male (che bello avere un altro rigorista almeno affidabile tra l'altro lool 😭). Si sono palesati tutti i problemi soliti, ma comunque stavamo reggendo, se avessimo segnato in almeno due azioni CLAMOROSE (marcus solo come hai detto, se fosse entrato il colpo di testa di lauti, quell'occasione di bare, quella di de vrij...quanti gol mangiati cavolo) avremmo due punti in più e invece.

I cambi però honestly...Io sono la prima a dire che questo inizio di stagione di pavard è stato tutt'altro che ottimale, anzi, in alcune partite ha serenamente fatto schifo. Però ieri stava giocando bene anzi, onestamente era l'unico che stava reggendo mezza baracca in difesa. Lo vedi Dumfries che ha limiti giganteschi in difesa e lo sappiamo, se ha potuto permettersi di spingere, segnare e fare una partita decente è soprattutto per la copertura dietro. Ed è il motivo per cui con bisseck ha sempre giocato Darmian, sempre bistrattato perché non spinge ecc...per carità sì, ma intanto sono giocatori che mettono pezze e danno equilibri? Ovviamente anche la mancanza di carlos è un problema perché di fatto dimash non ha ricambio e non so se ieri fosse in grado di terminare la partita, così da poter almeno mettere darmian a destra se proprio pavard doveva essere sostituito. La fissa dei gialli onestamente ha rotto, pure loro secondo me evitano di fare fallo per evitarsi sta condanna, ne facciamo veramente pochissimi rispetto agli altri. E stiamo pagando l'aver speso gli unici soldi su giocatori che di fatto non so quando vedranno il campo hahah

[raincandy-rq]

kill yourself /r

:🦷 (i’ll help with the clean up… maybe chew on the spinges)

Why do you chew everything, you ANIMAL?? I bet if I actually tried to kill myself, you'd chew the fucking rope. You can do all of the cleaning, it's the least you could do for the troubles you've caused me.

I'm going to have to tie you to a pole or something to keep you stationary.

[scogin]

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[maasmuse]

Aiden got the bare bones dressed and grabbed some clean clothes out of their pack before leading Maggie down to the hot springs.

The built spiral staircase turned into carved stone as Aiden lit torches with Ingi along the way. The air got heavy and it wasn't long until he opened the door to reveal the multi tiered hot spings nestled into the rocks. Big enough for hundreds of Witcher at a time.

maasmuse​:

“Of course.” They would figure something out. They had time.

There was a comfortable silence where they were both finishing their breakfast/lunch before Aiden stretched. A loud sound, half pleasure, half groan filled the space before he collapsed in on himself again.

“Bath?”

“Mhm…suppose we’ve eaten now.” Maggie had no other excuses to delay it and she did want to feel more human.  “Alright. Bath.” She nodded, pulling herself out of the bed to get some semblance of dressed so they could go bathe. 

[lamilanomagazine]

Milano: all'Anteo Palazzo del cinema proiettato Pastrone! del regista Lorenzo de Nicola.

Milano: all'Anteo Palazzo del cinema proiettato Pastrone! del regista Lorenzo de Nicola. “La nostra anima è un caleidoscopio idraulico. Ve lo provo con un esperimento”. Con queste parole, scandite dalla voce dell’attore Fabrizio Bentivoglio, si apre “Pastrone!”, il film scritto e diretto da Lorenzo De Nicola, un documentario sulla vita di Giovanni Pastrone, regista del cinema muto famoso per il colossal Cabiria. Un’inedita biografia del massimo esponente del cinema muto italiano e internazionale, e della sua seconda vita da medico autodidatta. Il film, prodotto da Clean Films e Lab80, torna nelle sale cinematografiche in occasione dell’uscita del libro “Giovanni Pastrone. Scrutando nel Fosco”, a cura di Silvio Alovisio e di Lorenzo De Nicola (Edizioni Kaplan). Il documentario torna a Milano per la presentazione del libro: appuntamento all’Anteo Palazzo del Cinema (piazza Venticinque Aprile, 8) lunedì 5 giugno, alle ore 19.30. Il film sarà preceduto dal firmacopie del libro, alla presenza del regista (dalle 19). Il ritrovamento di un manoscritto autobiografico spinge un ricercatore a mettersi sulle tracce del regista. Viene così a galla un’inedita versione dei fatti: abbandonata la cinepresa, Pastrone si trasforma in un medico autodidatta, dedicando il resto della vita all’ancestrale lotta dell’uomo contro la morte, ottenendo risultati sorprendenti. Il documentario è la riscoperta di un emblematico esponente del ‘900, all’inseguimento di un sogno, trasformato in una vera e propria ossessione. È la sbalorditiva storia del suo unico e più grande insuccesso. «Dopo anni di studi ero alla ricerca di un elemento chiave che unisse le fasi della vita di Giovanni Pastrone: infanzia/adolescenza, cinema e medicina», afferma il regista Lorenzo De Nicola, che ha iniziato la sua ricerca su Pastrone con una tesi universitaria nel 2001, oggi biografo ufficiale del famoso regista. «Tre elementi monolitici che non trovavano un punto di contatto. Tassello fondamentale è stato il ritrovamento del manoscritto Virus et homo che ha fornito tutta una serie di indizi finora sconosciuti. Si sono così aperte nuove strade da percorrere e soprattutto si è presentata un’inedita chiave di lettura su uno dei registi piu misteriosi del cinema muto italiano». Nato ad Asti nel 1882, Pastrone si trasferisce a Torino non appena terminati gli studi. Nel vibrante capoluogo piemontese il giovane Pastrone dà sfogo alla sua prima passione, il violino. Poi incontra il cinema, quasi per caso. Viene assunto come contabile all’Itala Film e pochi mesi dopo ne diventa direttore generale. Nelle sue mani il cinema diventa un “giocattolo scientifico” mescolando l’intrattenimento con le scienze applicate (è da sempre appassionato all’elettro meccanica). Da subito inanella una serie di grandi successi fino al trionfo di Cabiria (1914), per cui si avvale della collaborazione di D’Annuzio e con il quale piega anche la critica più reticente a considerare i film come prodotto artistico. Poco dopo scoppia la Prima guerra mondiale, il cinema italiano tracolla: l’industria cinematografica sposta il suo epicentro a Roma e Pastrone decide di abbandonare. “Non si esce da una vita nel cinema indenni, il cinema cambia per sempre” dice il critico cinematografico Paolo Cechi Usai durante la sua intervista. Pastrone è cambiato per sempre, ma nulla lo cambierà come la nuova “avventura”, quella medica, che Lorenzo De Nicola ricostruisce riordinando l’archivio personale del nipote del regista e scatenando un effetto domino che porta alla scoperta di incredibili materiali inediti. Da scatole e valige polverose spuntano carteggi preziosi, brevetti di flussi elettrici, decine di soggetti inediti di film realizzati o mai realizzati e altri indizi che portano al ritrovamento - in una cascina di campagna - del pezzo più emozionante di tutta questa ricerca: la macchina guaritrice. Oggetto mitico, ritenuto distrutto dal regista stesso poco prima della sua morte, l’invenzione a cui dedicò in sostanza tutta la sua vita, con la quale curò gratuitamente decine e decine di malati, ma non riuscì mai a far conoscere al mondo. Il documentario è la testimonianza di tutto questo. Una storia necessaria che finalmente, a oltre sessant'anni dalla sua scomparsa (muore nel 1959 a Torino), riconsegna al pubblico del nuovo millennio la figura di Pastrone nella sua interezza. La voce di Giovanni Pastrone, nella lettura del suo manoscritto originale, è di Fabrizio Bentivoglio, attore milanese, regista e sceneggiatore italiano dalla lunga carriera teatrale e televisiva. Le musiche originali del film sono a cura di Davide Tomat e Federico Bisozzi, nomi dell’etichetta berlinese K7.... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[ecposhgirl]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: COPY - New Veronica Beard Roopa Puff-Sleeved Sweater Size L.

[singledadsu]

part one of “spring cleaning” suggested by @tytoarts 

why multiple parts? because i have to make *everything* into a damn graphic novel and have no impulse control. so sit back and enjoy the bittersweet ANGST.

[pigandpugcomic]

[blunderbunn]

The spring has sprung, the grass has riz I wonder where dem boidies is? They say the boid is on the wing But that’s absoid, the wing is on da boid

- anon