#sometimes Linda is too convincing

[hecateslore]

💌

supervisor!simon

this one's a little hefty.

When you get home you throw your bag on the couch and let out a sigh. Your phone rings in your pocket, pull it out quickly answering it noticing the companies number, “Simon I swear to god-” 

“It’s not Simon.” Johnny’s voice was heard through the, “Johnny!” your eyes widen, you wipe the snot from under your nose. “Are you okay?” his voice thick with concern, you could almost see his thick brows furrowing as he spoke. “Yeah, I’m good.” You say, nose stuffy.  “Didn’t look too good when you left.” he chuckles. 

“I uh, I quit.” you purse your lips awaiting his response. “Oh.” you shut your eyes tightly at his response, “ What are you gonna do about work?” smacking yourself on the forehead, what are you going to do? You didn’t think you were gonna quit this early, with no response from your bestie's manager, anxiety started to build. “That’s a wonderful question.”  you let out a nervous laugh. “Also, how’d you get my number?” you stand with your hand on your hip, phone held between your cheek and shoulder, “Linda.” You felt like you just pushed your firstborn in front of a bus, leaving the beauty that she is. 

“Oh, Linda.” You feel the tears well in your eyes. God Simon was such an ass, to You, to Victor, to the old hires. “I’ll text you later, I gotta go.” Johnny says in a quick hushed tone. You hear the phone click and you wipe your eyes. You sit on the couch trying to figure out what your next move is. 

You're one step ahead, done with the emotional taxing job. Now you need to find a job, you remember the hot pink flier that said “now hiring” in the supermarket. Only downside is that it doesn't pay much. But you need a job now. Only until you can find something with better pay. 

There’s that cafe around the corner, but not too many people go in there.That one furniture store that always says they’re going out of business. You groan and put your head in your hands. 

- 

Simon walked past your empty desk wondering when would be a good time to reach out so you can gather your things, also so he could maybe apologize. Your knick-knacks sat on your desk, the pen where you left it. It was all Johnny's fault. He distracted you. Simon felt like you and him were getting somewhere. Like when you told him you weren’t going to quit (oh he’s delu). 

He had a chance to turn it all around, you were starting to get the hang of things. Not wearing your headphones, talking to him a little. Sometimes saying hi. He’d see Johnny making goo goo eyes at you. The way you two would joke around, and how you would slightly push his arm when he made an inappropriate joke. 

Simon’s eyes skimmed the office, Johnny sat at his desk ducking behind his screen on the phone. Simon wasn’t dumb, Simon’s observant. Narrowing his eyes he could hear Johnny’s voice speaking lowly, light chuckles and he swears he can almost hear you on the other end. 

Feeling like he wants to run over to his desk, Simon walks quietly to Johnny's desk hoping to catch him on the phone. Pale blue eyes catch onto Simon and Johnny hangs up the phone quickly. “Who’s that?” Simon asks. “Just some customer.” Simon only nods, “What’d they want?” Simon quizzed. “Uh life insurance” Simon raises his eyebrows, “Why’d you hang up?” 

“They didn’t need it.” Johnny tried his best to sound convincing. “They didn’t need life insurance?” Simon could only smirk at his answer, “Why don’t  they need life insurance anymore?” Simon knew what he was doing, trying to get Johnny to confess. He used to do it all the time.

He’d try to break people down with the most simple questions, making them stumble over their words, back track. He’d make them really think. Simon knew it was you on the phone. He saw the way Johnny's eyes followed you out of the office. The way his body language changed after you left. “You know the people and the policies Si.” Johnny chuckled. 

“And you couldn’t find them a better plan?” He could see the gears turning in the poor guy’s head. “They didn’t want to hear it.” Johnny falters. “I’m sure.” He sighed. “I’ll let you get back to it then.” 

-

Tuesday Simon sat at his desk with his door wide open, watching Johnny answer phone calls, Seeing him twist the phone cord and chuckle. Sometimes ducking his head every time he needed to have a laugh. Johnny was smart, but not as smart as Simon. He knew what you two were up to. He knew every time you called. So he decided to catch Johnny in a little trap. 

Simon checked your work file, getting your number he dials it on the company phone. Your phone rings only once before you answer, “Johnny, you’re gonna get in trouble-” Simon almost wants to gag. “So you’re the one calling about life insurance?” Simon taunts. Dead silence is heard on your end, “Why’re you calling.” You sound mad and He notes your tone, it's bitter and spiteful. “Cause your stuff is here.” He smirks, kicking his feet up on his desk. 

-

On the other side of the phone you’re laying in bed on your computer filling out applications. “I'll pick it up on friday.” You roll your eyes, hoping he can hear it. “Why not today?” Simon’s voice deep on the phone. Which is very different from Johnny's. Johnny goofs around a lot, poking fun at people from your old job, laughing at the text messages you send. Johnny’s lighthearted. He’s cutesy, Simon’s not. Simon’s like that Itch you can’t scratch. That stray cat you feed, who won’t stay with you but wants your food. 

“I have stuff to do” You huff. “Like what?” His gravelly voice makes a weird feeling in your stomach. “Like, none of your business.” Simon only laughs at your response. “Why’d you call?” You grumble. “Because you need to pick up your stuff.” 

“That’s not happening today.” Simon only hums at your answer. “So it’s happening Friday?” You pull the phone away from your face to roll your eyes yet again, “Yes, Simon.” you answer annoyed. You both are silent for a moment, “You know you could come back whenever you want, right?” Simon confesses. “I’m not.” You say and hear Simon's deep breath on the other end. 

“Is that all?” Annoyance still in your voice. “That’s all.” (okay miranda priestly!!!!) Simon says and the phone clicks. You let out a deep sigh. You feel hot from the phone call (great simon, now my chussy’s wet!) His voice sounded so deep, like he’d been napping all day. That was the downside of quitting, no more eye candy. Simon was so handsome until he opened that mouth of his. He was so smooth sometimes. Like when there’d be something wrong with your computer and he’d hover over you to fix it. Just effortlessly handsome. He was so mean to you though. Maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe that’s who he was because of the military. Or maybe he was just that way because he just is.

Your phone rings again, the supermarket’s number on your screen. You’d been emailing the store's manager, going back and forth about a potential position for you. The best they could do was a cashier which you thanked whatever God that was out there. 

“When’s the earliest you can come in?” The lady on the other line asked, “Is Thursday okay?” you ask , “That’s the earliest for you?” the lady’s voice monotone. “Uh,y-yeah.” you stammer a bit. “Uniforms a black shirt and black pants come in at 7. I’ll have someone to train you.” You almost jump off your bed, a temporary job secured. Step two is now in motion. 

“Okay thank you!” You say cheesing extremely hard. Once you hear the other end click, you flop on your bed face first, squealing into your mattress. 

-

Wednesday, Simon walked into the office with a wide grin on his face. Saying hello and good morning to everyone. An evil plan to monitor the workplace, or in this instance, monitor Johnny. 

Standing with a mug full of black tea. He stood by Victor's desk where he had a full view of Johnny's screen and back. Johnny could feel Simon’s eyes but he chose to ignore him. Simon walked around the office slowly, pacing himself, waiting for your phone call. Simon sat at your desk, pretending he has interest in what Linda is saying, making ooh’s and Ah’s at some random story. He always wondered how you had so much patience with her nonsense, she just went on and on. His body language aligns with Linda but his ears listen for Johnny's hushed voice. 

That’s when the phone rings and Johnny’s eyes shoot at Simon, and from Simon’s peripheral he can see Johnny bring the phone to his ear slowly. Simon excuses himself from the conversation, remembering “he left his tea” by Victor's desk. Johnny shifts in his seat angling the phone away from Simon's vision.  

Simon picks up victors phone dialing “* # 55” and puts it to his ear hearing your boisterous laugh. “Johnny don’t say that!” you warn. Simon pays attention to Victor's screen. “What? I'm just joking.” He says casually, “ but I do think he’s obsessed with you.” he chuckles lowly. 

You let out another laugh, and all Simon could think is corny. “He’s probably listening as we speak.” Johnny ribbed. You giggle at His lousy joke, Simon only rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you two friends?” you say, “I mean, yeah. “ Johnny scratches the back of his neck. “Not as close as we used to be.” he shrugs, grabbing a notepad he draws random shapes. “When are you getting your stuff?” he asks, “Friday.” you answer, “Maybe we can grab lunch?” you suggest, “That’s what got us in trouble in the first place.” Johnny laughs. Simon puts the phone on the hook, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. 

Simon walks past Johnny, and he could hear him whispering he’s got to go and that he’ll let you know what time his lunch is on friday. Simon goes back to his office, he sits in his chair going through all of the forms Victor managed to fuck up while he listened to Johnny and yours conversation. 

-

Thursday arrives and you're sitting outside waiting for the supermarket to open, you can see your old office in the distance, all your old coworkers entering the building. “You’re the new hire?” A man with a name tag that says “kyle” on it asks you. “Yeah.” you say standing from the chairs on the store patio. “I’m kyle.” he shakes your hand. You introduce yourself and you both walk into the store. “Are you training me?” you question, “Oh no, that’s Ashley, she’s waiting for you in the break room, she wanted me to come get you.” He answers. “Oh cool,.” you follow him to the back of the store. “What do you do here? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“I’m one of the butchers.” he smiles. “Oh.” you say smile fading a bit, “I just cut and trim the meat.” he chuckles. “Oh I thought-” 

“I know what you mean.” he says as he opens the break room door for you. “You’re set.” 

-

Down a couple of buildings, Simon stares at the vending machine, nothing looks appealing. Simon noticed all the Snapples left behind. He knew you liked those, you were the only one who’d buy them. He wonders what you’re up to. Simon kind of wants to call you and bother you about your stuff, just to hear your voice. He likes to frustrate you, and the way you groan every time he asks a dumb question on purpose. 

There was still thirty minutes til opening time, he could run down to the supermarket and grab something to eat, maybe another box of tea. Simon looks down at his watch, he’s the supervisor, he can manage to be a little late. 

So Simon put his coat on and walked out of the front door. A lonely walk to the supermarket, It was pretty quiet, not a lot of people out this early. Simon walked through the automatic doors, lo and behold there you stood behind the register, refreshing your memory. Simon saw you joking with the lady that was training you, making jokes about how slow you were moving and you both laughed at the way you opened the cash register slowly. Simon wanted to walk up and say something, but he took a glance at his watch and just pretended he didn’t see you. 

Simon walked up and down the aisle trying to find something that would please him, so he settled for two granola bars, a cup of yogurt, and a new box of black tea since he was running low.  

-

You finished ringing up the teenage girl who bought four packs of gum and tried to buy a pack of cigarettes. You see a familiar figure bending to the lowest shelf to grab something. You felt your eyes may be deceiving you, you kind of been paranoid hoping you wouldn’t run into any of your old coworkers. 

And maybe you had a sixth sense. Self check out wasn’t open and you were the only person on the registers. You could hurl. There he was standing with two granola bars, a yogurt cup all in one hand and the box of black tea in the other. Simon walked towards your register placing the items on the conveyor belt. The items move towards you slowly. You both watched the items closely.

“Well this is awkward.” 

#supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mw2 #cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #cod 141

[artificial-transmutations]

Trophy Husband

"That's your boyfriend?" Charlie knew exactly where this was going. He had just shown Linda, a good friend of his, a picture of his boyfriend Theodore, and she already made 'the face'.

"But isn't he..." she began and trailed off, probably searching for a way to phrase it nicely.

Charlie could have helped her, as he knew exactly what she was going to say, but he let her suffer.

"... Perhaps a tiny bit older than you?"

It was true, and Charlie couldn't even be mad at Linda for pointing it out. He would probably have done so, too, if he were in her shoes. The fact was that Theodore was indeed older than Charlie, and not just a bit. With his forty-six years, he was more than twice as old as 21 year old Charlie, and could definitely pass as his father.

"I know."

Charlie knew it, and Linda knew it too. Even though Charlie loved Theodore dearly, he knew what people would think about them. People often assumed that an older man would take advantage of a younger one - that Charlie was kind of a trophy boyfriend for Theodore.

"But it's nothing weird. We're just in love, that's all."

Charlie could tell Linda was not convinced, but forced a smile and nodded, congratulating him on his new relationship.

Later, at dinner with his boyfriend, Charlie told Theodore about his encounter with Linda.

"You know, it's so weird to talk to my friends about us. They all assume that you are some kind of weirdo, or I am just a trophy boyfriend for you. Sometimes I hate that I'm so young compared to you." Charlie said, with a twinge of unhappiness.

Theodore smiled warmly and put his hand on Charlie's knee.

"Well, they couldn't be more wrong. I genuinely love you my dear. You're the only person that matters to me, and you always will be."

Charlie felt his heart melting, and he leaned over the table to kiss his boyfriend.

"Besides, what's wrong with being young? You're so energetic and good looking. Look at me, I have wrinkles already, and my hair is graying. I'm stuck in a boring dead-end office job, and I know that nobody would hire me anymore. I really do wish to be as young as you are again.", he adds with a tender smile.

"You shouldn't. Being young isn't so great. Nobody takes me seriously because I look like I just finished school. And talking about jobs: I can't find a good job either, because everyone is looking for the twenty year old with ten years of experience now. It's ridiculous. I wish I could just magically leave that all behind me and be as old as you. Then nobody would think of us as a weird couple."

After this heart-to-heart, both men grew silent.

Theodore felt weird. The conversation had a strange weight that still resonated between the two of them. Did he really look that old? He stood up and went over to the large mirror in his living room. Sure, he had some wrinkles, and his hair and beard were graying, but it wasn't so bad, right?

He went with his hand over his wrinkles and stretched his skin. Surprisingly enough, once he removed his hand, his skin stayed exactly like that - no more wrinkles, only firm skin. It gave his face a youthful impression he had long lost. It didn't stop there, though. Like a bushfire, the firm skin extended from the point where he touched it outward, quickly stretching out all the wrinkles in his face. The skin cleaned up in the process, as it stretched and firmed.

His hair, too, changed. All the little gray hairs that had appeared over the years returned to their original black color - a process most notably in his stubbly beard that grew more impressive by the minute before suddenly disappearing completely, leaving his chin clean-shaven.

As the transformation spread downward, Theodore hurried to get out of his shirt, to have a better look.

His belly that had turned slightly flabby shrank and became fitter, as did his ass. His biceps grew thicker and his pecs bigger, while his legs became more muscular. All the extra weight he had gained throughout the years seemed to simply melt away, as if he had spent the last decades in a strict fitness program.

Theodore regarded himself in the mirror with a proud smile on his face. Not only did he look fitter, but also younger. His chest hair disappeared just like his beard hat, leaving behind only a muscular and young well-groomed chest worthy of a movie star. His trousers shortened and turned into a completely white pair of shorts, with a generous bulge growing in them. Theodore gave it a squeeze, amazed by the amount of cockmeat he had gained. He could feel himself getting hard just by looking at his reflection. Theodore's eyes turned a bright blue, and blonde dyed highlights appeared in his hair.

Theo shook his head and smirked. He was just looking awesome, as always. And also as always, he was feeling really horny!

He cupped his bulge as he turned around.

Charlie was watching from behind him in awe. What had just happened? He had watched Theodore transform into a young muscular bodybuilder. That couldn't be right!

Still, Charlie himself felt a weird tingling sensation in his body. Fine little hair grew all over him, itching as it did so. Charlie, too got rid of his shirt and pants, standing only in boxers, to watch what was going on. His chest was quickly filled with short brown hairs that continued down in a treasure trail to disappear into his boxers. Underneath the hair, however, his body firmed up considerably. He, too, grew fitter and more muscular than he had before, but it was a different kind of body from the one Theodo- wait, that felt wrong. Charlie frowned and tried the thought again. It was a different kind of body from the one Theo had. Better. It was a product of years of willpower and work, not the easily malleable flesh of youth. That was a body he had worked on for decades!

Charlie watched the hair on his chest turn gray, as he looked down on himself with his usual stern look. It was just his standard way of looking, a fact that made most of his subordinates feel uneasy. Being the CEO of a multi-million dollar company left hardly any time for smiling or all this nonsense. He had to exert authority at every time.

His hair became shorter, styled into a perfect and expensive cut, as their color turned the same silver as his body hair. He touched his face with his weathered, strong hands, feeling the wrinkles all the stress and years of his live have brought him. Sometimes, Charles asked himself if he was getting old. But no. With his 49 years, he was still perfectly in control. He had money, power and authority, and still a great body. And contrary to popular believe, money could buy happiness.

He looked over to his husband Theo, who was busy admiring himself in the mirror again. He was half his age, and dumb as a brick. He would never succeed in live, but he didn't need to. All he needed to do was look good on Charles' side, keep his body in check and present his ass every time Charles' python, which was growing hard in the tight underwear that were once boxer shorts, needed release.

He didn't need to decide or think. Charles' was the one paying the bills and Charles' was the one in control here. Theo was just his trophy husband - and both were very happy with that.

Another request from a subscriber over at my riot page that they chose to make publicitly available. Enjoy!

#male transformation #old to young adult #dumbing down #muscle transformation

[denim-mixtapes]

Nothin' but a Good Time - [1/?]

Wealthy!Steve Harrington x Fem!Stripper!Reader Rating: Eventually E, this chapter contains no smut yet but mentions drug and alcohol use and strip clubs. Words: 3.7k

AO3

It's 1996 and Steve Harrington has found himself, somehow, with the fancy office job and lush apartment and more than enough disposable income to spend on booze and drugs and one night stands to distract himself from how much he HATES his scummy corporate law job and too-big, too-empty apartment. You, after years of saving, begging cheapskates and creeps for tips as a waitress by day and dancing for bigger tips from bigger creeps after dark, finally afford yourself the opportunity to move into the fancy downtown apartment of your dreams. When you move in next door to Steve Harrington, there's no way of knowing if you've just met the next great love(r) of your life or the biggest pain in your ass you'll ever know. It's entirely possible that it could be both.

November, 1996 – Steve

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

A faint rhythm builds from behind the door of Steve Harrington’s office, slow, steady, louder and louder until eventually the sound is muffled and interrupted by a low groan. 

“Fuck!”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Just outside the door, his secretary is left aghast, wondering when she missed the arrival of this midday rendezvous and exactly when Harrington had become so daring. Sure, she’s seen her fair share of interns and lower level assistants escorted into his office after late stressful nights or the occasional holiday party, but he’s never been so brave as to interrupt the work day for a bit of afternoon delight. The kid may be a little dense sometimes, but he isn’t that dumb. 

Usually Harrington is by the book, strictly on schedule and often working through lunch to stay on the boss’ good side. So the fact that he’s running late to a meeting in favor of a roll in the hay, well, she is shocked to say the least. 

Corralling all of her bravery into one swift motion, she knocks on the door and is surprised to hear his, “come in,” right away. Maybe a little haggard and hushed in one breath, but immediate nonetheless. Needless to say, the stout woman is nervous about what she’ll find on the other side of the door when she opens it. 

What she finds, however, is nothing more than a slightly rumpled version of Steve Harrington. Tie undone, sleeves of his collared shirt shoved up to the elbows, and his glasses placed gingerly on the desk beside him. His hair is a riot from where he was just repeatedly banging his forehead against the desk, sporting a wide swath of plump red skin above his eyebrows as evidence of the act. No, she hadn’t walked in on anything indecent, only the culmination of stress and burnout on her young boss. 

“Sorry for the noise, Linda,” he breathes, scrubbing a palm over one tired eye and down his cheek. “I just– there’s no elaborate explanation here. It’s just been a day.” He types something quickly into the computer before him and then presses the power button on the boxy monitor, turning to give her his full attention with his hands folded on the desk in front of him. “What can I do for you?”

She mirrors his posture, fingers laced together but hanging limp at her midsection, “I was just wondering if I should call Mr. Greene and inform him you won’t be able to make it to the 3 o’clock partner meeting.”  

Eyeing the clock on the wall beside him, Steve’s eyes widen to saucers and his chair scrapes loudly against hardwood floor as he stands up in a haste, collecting paperwork and wayward supplies into his briefcase as he does. “Shit.” His brows knit in a gesture of apology for his language, but Linda simply chuckles and steps out of his way. “Sorry, sorry! Thank you, Lin!” 

—

No matter how hard he tries to act the part of a corporate bigwig asshole, Steve is convinced he may never get the hang of it. If he were to be honest, he isn’t entirely sure how he made it this far. Truthfully, he’s hanging on by the skin of his teeth and the Harrington name. 

After a year of hopping from minimum wage job to minimum wage job, he finally broke down and listened to his father’s demands. Just get the damn degree, Steven, he’d said, I have a job all ready to be laid at your feet, all you have to do is pull your head out of your ass and get the degree. So he did. He sucked it up, used the influence of his family name and a bit more of the Harrington fortune to attend the most prestigious law school he never would have been able to get into with his academic record alone. When he graduated, as promised, he was offered a position just above entry level with a 401k and a more than generous benefits package. He wasn’t sure how many strings his father had to pull or how much bribing it took, but he landed this cushy job that got him out of his childhood home and into an apartment of his own, something that he’s sure benefited not only himself, but also the parents who were clearly sick of putting him up well past 18. Over the better half of the last decade, he took ‘Fake it till you make it’ to heart and managed to charm his way up the corporate ladder, and now here he is: pushing thirty with a private corner office, the title of junior partner, representing corporations he didn’t care much for and working under senior lawyers he liked even less…but this job pays more than generously. It affords him luxuries like the latest new apartment with more square footage than he knows what to do with and the city view from his living room window. It affords him as many trips out to Massachusetts to visit Robin and Nancy as he’d like, stunning suits and flashy watches he never could have dreamed of affording when he worked at Family video and refused his family fortune. And then there’s the extravagant gifts for said family that make up for his absence at Christmas dinner.

This job is draining, but it’s purchased his peace, in a way, so he does what he has to do to make it worth it.

Lately, what he has to do to make it worth it is party until he forgets how much he hates it. 

If he had to recall the names of everyone in his apartment at this moment, he would fail. There’s faces he recognizes, sure, people from work and their friends he’s seen at many other parties. Clark from down the hall, who always manages to have the best coke, is in the corner making friends, and Eddie is around here somewhere peddling his own stash…but between the thumping bass and raucous laughter and the blur of lights, there’s about 25 to 30 other people he doesn’t recognize. When a bottle is thrust into his periphery, he gladly takes a swig, drowning the worry of strangers in his apartment and the stress from the day at work with amber liquor. 

Clark beckons him over to the mirrored coffee table where he’s set up shop, offering a rolled twenty with one hand and clapping Steve’s shoulder in a shallow gesture of friendship.

Fuck it, it’s Friday. 

November, 1996 – You

Dropping one last box at the foot of the doorman’s desk, you sigh and brush cardboard dust from your hands. The two men from the moving company just went upstairs with the last of your large furniture and are set to take off when they return to ground level, having only been paid through 11 AM. So you managed to unload the back of your car and the rest of the boxes from the moving truck into the lobby, promising the doorman – whose name you swear you’ll memorize soon – that it will all be out of the way momentarily. He graciously offered to make sure nobody messed with it in the meantime. 

It’s hard to even wrap your head around the fact that you’re moving into an apartment with a doorman in the heart of the city at all, let alone one within walking distance of your diner waitress job, and close enough to a bus route to the club where you danced. You’ll have to remember to pay your grandma a visit in her new nursing home and thank her for keeping her rent-controlled lease and illegally subletting it to you. Just another thing to add to your overflowing calendar. 

When you make it up to your shiny new apartment on the ninth floor, you say your goodbyes to the movers who are on their way out, sign the appropriate paperwork for them, and drop off your armload of boxes before heading back down. 

It takes quite a few trips on your own, but after another half hour, you exit the elevator in the lobby to see only three boxes remain and heave another sigh of relief. The end is in sight, and by the grace of whichever God is looking out for you, you might even be able to sneak in a nap before work tonight. You bend over to pick up one of the last few boxes of your belongings and suddenly feel the all too familiar prickling heat of someone’s intense stare. Rolling your shoulders, you let go of the cardboard handles and stand to turn and face whoever is continuing to stare.

Behind you, leaning one hip against the front desk, is exactly the kind of man you would expect to live in a building like this. Slightly older than you, but not by much, tall and lean, but the sleeves of his tight white tee shirt show off the perfect sculpt of his bicep. The man is etched in sleep, draped in it like the blankets he surely just crawled out of, the fluffy length of his hair sticking out in every direction, pushed up and out of his face by round wire-framed glasses. He smiles in a way that feels friendly, but has the sly kind of charm behind it that makes you want to shy from it. 

“You know,” he says, grinning wide, “I know I had a hard time waking up today, but something tells me I might still be dreaming, pretty thing like you moving into my building.” 

You want to scoff at his comment, knowing exactly how you must look right now. Sweat drying on your skin, messy bun practically falling out of its hold, sporting a plain black tank top and a pair of your ex’s old basketball shorts rolled at the waist. You manage to hold back the scoff, but do roll your eyes with a soft smile at your new neighbor. “Cute, you use that line often?” 

His sharp jaw ticks, but his smile softens around a friendly laugh as he rubs tiredly at one eye. “Can’t say I do,” then, dropping the hand in favor of offering it to you to shake, “I’m Steve, need a hand with these?” 

Accepting his secondary offer and shaking his hand, you smile in return and introduce yourself, but decline the first. “Thank you, but I’m sure you were headed somewhere. Don’t let me keep you from your plans.” 

“Nonsense.” When he shakes his head, there’s a pinch to his forehead, eyes slamming shut at the motion, but he recovers quickly and hides the pain. This man is clearly fighting a monster hangover, and yet he insists. “I was just going to pick up some coffee. It can wait.” Without waiting for you to agree, he takes the smallest box and stacks it atop another, picking them both up and tacking on, “lead the way.” 

You decide there’s no arguing with him, so you grab the last remaining box and head back to the elevator, punching the 9 button once inside. 

“No way,” he says in disbelief, “ninth floor?” 

“Mhm,” you mumble softly, “9C.” 

Your eyes are drawn to the crinkle around his eyes when he laughs again despite the dark circles below, the two moles just below his cheekbone that dance when he smiles. Damn it, he really is pretty. 

“I’m in 9B, right next door! You’re moving into Ms. Ruth’s old place?” 

There’s practically a lightbulb above your head when you make the connection, and in comical time with it, the elevator dings, signaling your arrival. “Oh, so you’re the Steve Grandma warned me about!”

All color drains from his face. “W-what did she say?” 

Steve follows you down the hall to your front door, and you can’t help but giggle at his change in demeanor. Both of you set the boxes down just inside your front room and you turn to him with a hand on your hip. “Just that you’re too handsome for your own good and a habitual flirt. Both of which I’m finding to be true already.” 

“Oh, well,” not only does his color return, but his cheeks pink noticeably. He gives a small nod that tips his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and sends a tuft of hair curling into his face – he couldn’t have choreographed it better if he tried. With an exaggerated wink, he continues, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.” 

You scoff, “sure, sure,” and lightly push his shoulder out toward the hallway. “Thanks for your help.” 

He strides down the hall back to the elevator and points at his own front door as he passes it. “Anytime…and you know where to find me if you need anything. You know, cup of sugar, little company. Whatever.” 

With a shake of your head and the elevator doors closing around him, you punctuate, “bye, Steve.” 

—

Later the same night, in the dressing room before your shift, you’re practically glowing from the long afternoon nap you allowed yourself in place of unpacking. You did your makeup at home – never really did care to leave your expensive products in the locker room, no matter how much you trust the other girls –  so all you have left to do is get changed. There’s a lounge just outside the locker rooms for the dancers and bar staff. It isn’t much, a cracked and peeling old leather couch, a few folding chairs around a card table, and a kitchenette for snacks and drinks, but it serves its purpose. After changing into your first outfit of the night, a bedazzled fishnet body suit over a metallic hot pink matching set, you practically bounce into the lounge and land gracefully on one end of the couch, heels in hand. 

“Someone’s in a good mood,” comes a sleepy voice from the kitchenette where Eddie Munson, club security, resident dealer, and occasional fill-in DJ, makes his routine evening coffee. 

“Didn’t you hear?” One of the other dancers, Charity – though you’re not sure her real name, stage names only even back here, that’s the rule – asks, draping herself onto the other end of the couch. She pokes at your thigh with the toe of her heel and scrunches her button nose in your direction. “Honey here is fancy now, moved into that luxurious new apartment of hers today.” 

“It’s true,” you boast with a dramatic lean into the couch, lazing, a cat to sunbathe under the fluorescent lights and clutching at pretend pearls, “I am one with the fat cats, now.” 

“The fat cats living off their granny’s handouts, maybe,” Says Felicity, the club manager, through a playful snort as she enters the room. 

You concede, “yeah fine, I could never afford this place if it wasn’t for her subletting it to me, but it’s all a part of my master plan.” 

Eddie settles into one of the folding chairs, propping his feet up on the armrest of the couch beside you. “Master plan? Do go on.” 

“You know,” you swat at the heavy, thick-soled boots before leaning forward to don your shoes and look up at him over your shoulder flirtatiously, “find a rich, hot man who can afford to live in the building and make him fall in love with me.” 

“Solid plan, how’s that working out for you so far?” Charity laughs playfully. 

It’s quiet for a moment as you contemplate the question. You were joking, of course, but when she asked the first thought that came to mind was of your interaction with Steve. It could be nothing, after all Grandma Ruth did warn you that her next door neighbor is a major flirt and for all you know that’s how he interacts with every woman he meets – maybe even every man, you don’t judge. On the other hand, it could be something. You never know.

“Well, actually there was this guy–” 

You’re interrupted by one of the bartenders leaning in the doorway. “Eddie, we’re about to open, need you at the door!” 

On his way out the door, Eddie twists his mess of curls up into a bunch atop his head and as a goodbye, says, “fill me in later, ladies, duty calls.”

—

The next time you see Steve, it’s under wildly different circumstances. For him, anyway. 

You’re still sweaty and worn out after a long morning shift at the diner and the walk home under blazing July sun. Your fifties-style uniform wrinkled and stained with sticky syrup and dried milkshake from the bratty kid who “accidentally” dumped it on you in passing. Your apron is slung over your arm carelessly and you have just let your hair loose from its scrunchie when you entered the building so you have no idea how wild it actually looks. 

Steve, however, is nothing short of stunning when you run into him at the mailboxes. He’s sporting a navy blue suit that fits him so well it must be tailored, still slightly disheveled at the end of his workday but clean cut and endlessly handsome despite it. There’s a dusting of five o’clock shadow along his sharp jaw, and his glasses are perched low on the tip of his nose as he sorts through the small stack of bills before tucking them into the inside pocket of his blazer. When he looks up and meets your eye, he visibly brightens.

“Well hi, neighbor,“ he greets with a warm grin dimpling his cheeks. He leans with one arm above your head against the wall of mailboxes and looks softly down his nose at you. “How’re you settling in?” 

Shifting the strap of your bag up higher onto your shoulder, you try to cover up the stains, once again shying under his attention. You’re more than used to attention from men, used to their intense stares and acute observation, but only when you have prepared for it. When your makeup is done to perfection and you’re fresh and clean as a whistle. Not now. Not smelling of fryer grease and pancakes and the sweat of a hard day’s work, with melted makeup and dried mascara flakes accentuating the bags under your eyes. You finally answer, “alright I guess. I’ve been working a lot lately so there hasn’t been much time for settling, but I’ll get there eventually.” 

He scrutinizes your outfit with a playful sneer. “I can imagine how hard it is, having to commute back to the fifties every time you have a shift.” He reaches out to untuck the collar of your dress that folded itself inward on your walk, smoothing it down with a caress of the thumb. “This suits you, by the way. ‘S cute.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, swatting his arm away with the apron in hand. “It pays the bills and I’m good at it. I wouldn’t have chosen it, otherwise.” 

Without ceremony, you both start walking to the elevator, step in step as if this was routine, as if you’ve been doing together for years. He presses the elevator button and shakes his head as you wait for the doors to open. “Does it, though?”

Swallowing your offense, you give him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?” 

Together you step into the elevators, and Steve holds out an arm to make sure the doors don’t close on you as you pass through. An unnecessary gesture, as the doors don’t close if they detect motion, but it’s appreciated nonetheless. 

“Not that I’m judging, because I am not, I just find it a little hard to believe that you can afford this place as just a waitress. What else have you got up your sleeve?” 

The elevator once again signals your arrival with an overhead ding, and you just shrug as you brush past him toward your door. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

—

Working two jobs to keep up with your discounted rent is tough. You’ve never been ashamed of either job, both of them honest work and both of them something you’re good at and damn proud of, but there’s no denying that it’s tough sometimes. 

The late hours at the club, though not every day, followed by an early wakeup call for the breakfast shift at the diner often called for little to no sleep, trudging into the building well past three AM with only enough time to shower and fall into bed for two hours before the alarm went off again at 5:30. But you made it work. Naps in the middle of the day and strategically planning which days you went into the club, you always made it work. Which means on the off nights you choose not to go into the club, you value your time and the opportunity to go to bed before midnight. 

It’s a rare Saturday night that you choose to stay home a few weeks after your move. Usually Fridays and Saturdays are your biggest tip nights so it’s rare that you skip, but it had been a particularly rough day at the diner and you have to go in even earlier than usual tomorrow to cover the overnight server’s vacation, so you decide it isn’t worth the added stress. You’ll just take a nice relaxing bath, maybe watch a movie on cable, and get to bed early.

Only, ever since Steve got home, there’s been a constant flow of people outside your front door, trailing from the elevator to Steve’s, some knocking, some letting themselves right in with a slam of the front door, most of them shouting. Their voices echoed off the walls and floated through the crack under your door. You wrote it off as a simple get-together and hoped it would die down soon, but to no such luck. The swell of voices and bass heavy music and generic party ambiance only grew louder as the night went on, and here you are. 

It’s two AM, your alarm is supposed to go off in just over an hour, and you’re wide awake, no, kept awake by the thumping of the party music on the other side of your shared wall and the boisterous laughter of Steve’s guests. 

You try not to be annoyed, really. Sure, it’s well past midnight, but it’s also Saturday, and you’re no square. Obviously people can have a good time and enjoy their weekend, but God, it’s so hard to not let the noise get to you, your anger bubbling just under your skin the longer the ruckus keeps you awake. 

Angrily shoving a pillow over your face, clamping it around your ears, you make note to say something to Steve the next time you see him. 

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington reader insert

[cyn-onym]

Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcannons

warning! - nsfw (marking/biting + condescension + c0ckwarming + size k!nk + manhandling + s3x positions mentions + overstim + breeding + impreg mentions + dumbification + smono). gender-neutral pronouns, but minor fem qualities mentioned (nicknames + undergarments).

RAHHHH. I told y'all I had something inappropriate to say.

▷ Miguel O'Hara is a man of many talents and accomplishments...and one of them is being a fiend in bed. But let's start out light. We all saw the trailers. This man has fangs and best believe he uses 'em. If he goes down on you be prepared to wear pants for the rest of the week because your hips and thighs will be littered with bite marks and scratches. All because he can't get enough of you and your taste.

▷ But as mean as Miguel may come off he can't help but treat you with kindness and respect, no matter what you do. So be scared. It makes punishing you all the worse. He'll either have you cumming back to back to back. All while lecturing you through each orgasm, "You know how upset that makes me." or he'll force you to cockwarm him until he finishes his work so he can do the latter. Sometimes he'll get a little too heated and lecture you in Spanish. "Mírate. Volverse tonto en mi polla? Contéstame nena? Hey, are you listening?!". He's so nice...but so mean :(

▷ Be even more scared when he's rewarding you. He'll give you some of the most eye-rolling, sheet-ripping, body-failing orgasms you've ever experienced. You'll be damn near ready to pass out and he'll just continue because your his baby and he can't help but spoil you for being/doing so good for him. "It's ok, I know. I know you can keep going, I got you." or "You're doing so well, mi amor, just like that." RAHHHH.

▷ Now let's move on to positions, but first, let's address the elephant in the room. This man is huge, and I mean that everywhere. His shoulders, his back, his.... The only thing small about this man is his waist let's be so fucking fr. And he uses his size to his advantage always looming over you and it honestly....turns him on. Being able to handle you and put you in any position, he pleases because you can't fight back or deny it, does a number on him. He's so sick for thinking like that :(

▷ With that being said his favorite positions are full nelson (because he just loves seeing you helpless and unable to fight back). Along with prone bone, and mating press (because he also loves pinning you down, being in control and giving you what you deserve).

▷ Which brings us to our next segment. This man has a breeding kink. Especially after losing his first child, but after a little convincing and therapy, he'd probably be willing to try for another...or more... Don't worry he'll unload load after load to make sure your thoroughly bred, and I imagine he loves the idea of a having a big family so....expect no rest "Just 1 more. One more. Linda, I promise." Knowing damn well he said 1 more, 3 more ago :(

▷ After his long days of saving civilians or working in his lab, he comes back late only to find you deep in sleep. He admires and coos over you (of course) but can't help but notice how your only wearing one of his t-shirts, and your panties...and you just so happen to be in the perfect position for him to pull your panties aside and slide in....and you can guessed what happened. But like any normal person you woke up, only for him to coo and tell you to go back to sleep which you obey. Only for you to wake up again to the sound of his choked/muffled moans above you with his claws tearing the pillow by your head.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #x reader #reader insert #y/n #smut #first smut #headcannons #gender neutral reader #fem reader #masc reader #have mercy on me I don't speak spanish. #or write smut #idk what im doing #I won't him. #my keyboard in one hand and my .... in the other #sorry not sorry

[foryouwereinmysong]

Do you think John and Paul ever saw each other again after ‘76? Or even talked on the phone? I know Paul says they did but every so often doubt creeps in and I start wondering if Paul isn’t just making up stories to convince himself that they were still friends. Your thoughts?

Thank you for the ask! It made me look back at John's last interviews and some of Paul's earliest after the murder. I don't think Paul made up the phone calls, because he has been consistent in talking about them since the early 80s. In his interviews shortly after John's death he talks about it quite detailed and I don't think he would make something like this up. For other speculations about their last meeting I found this great blogspot post: https://mccartnet.blogspot.com/2012/04/when-was-lennon-and-mccartneys-last.html

What I do wonder is, if they maybe saw each other for the last time in 1978. John mentions in 1980 he thinks that the "turning Paul away incident" was like 2 years ago and Geoffrey Giuliano claims that John, Yoko, Paul and Linda went to see the movie "Pretty Baby" together, which was released in April 1978. (The lost Lennon diaries) - but people say he's not a reliable source... But maybe John didn't turn Paul away the day after the SNL evening (24th of April 1976), but after the movie night? But then again Sean was already a toddler in 1978...

WELL if somebody did more research on this, I would love to know, but I'll end it here, because I think in the end there won't be a really satisfying answer. And maybe the important part is that the love they had for each other never went away either way.

(Newsweek, 1982, by Jim Miller)  Q: "Did you see much of him before he died?"

PAUL: "I saw him quite a bit. Always, the problem was talking business. Whenever we got into business, we got into an argument. It wasn't a pleasant framework for a relationship. When Sean (John and Yoko's son) was first born, I visited him a few times at the Dakota (Lennon's apartment house in New York). And then it had gone snotty. I used to turn up without calling him. One time, he got annoyed with me. He said, 'Well, look, man... Why do you just keep turning up here and surprise us? Why don't you just call first?' And I took that the wrong way. After that, I don't think I did see him. I phoned a few times. As long as we were talking about family, about life, it was good. The last time I spoke to him, I got off the phone and it felt like old friends again. I've talked to Yoko since then, and she's said to me, 'You know, he really was quite fond of you.' I think we were pretty close. But, sometimes, with brothers, you argue. They can be the most intense arguments, too."

(Playboy, 1984, by Joan Goodman) PLAYBOY: "Do you remember your last conversation with John?"

PAUL: "Yes. That is a nice thing, a consoling factor for me, because I do feel it was sad that we never actually sat down and straightened our differences out. But fortunately for me, the last phone conversation I ever had with him was really great, and we didn't have any kind of blowup. It could have easily been one of the other phone calls, when we blew up at each other and slammed the phone down."

PLAYBOY: "Do you remember what you talked about?"

PAUL: "It was just a very happy conversation about his family, my family. Enjoying his life very much; Sean was a very big part of it. And thinking about getting on with his career. I remember he said, 'Oh, God, I'm like Aunt Mimi, padding round here in me dressing gown' ...robe, as he called it, cuz he was picking up the American vernacular... 'feeding the cats in me robe and cooking and putting a cup of tea on. This housewife wants a career!' It was that time for him. He was about to launch Double Fantasy."

(Playboy, September 1980, by David Sheff) PLAYBOY: "Aside from the millions you've been offered for a reunion concert, how did you feel about producer Lorne Michaels' generous offer of $3200 for appearing together on 'Saturday Night Live' a few years ago?"

LENNON: "Oh, yeah. Paul and I were together watching that show. He was visiting us at our place in the Dakota. We were watching it and almost went down to the studio, just as a gag. We nearly got into a cab, but we were actually too tired."

PLAYBOY: "How did you and Paul happen to be watching TV together?"

LENNON: "That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. I would let him in, but finally I said to him, 'Please call before you come over. It's not 1956 and turning up at the door isn't the same anymore. You know, just give me a ring.' He was upset by that, but I didn't mean it badly. I just meant that I was taking care of a baby all day and some guy turns up at the door... But, anyway, back on that night, he and Linda walked in and he and I were just sitting there, watching the show, and we went, 'Ha-ha, wouldn't it be funny if we went down?' but we didn't."

PLAYBOY: "Was that the last time you saw Paul?"

LENNON: "Yes, but I didn't mean it like that." (Newsweek, 29th of September 1980, by Barbara Graustark) Q: "Paul McCartney's theory is that you became a recluse because you'd done everything - but be yourself."

JOHN: "What the hell does that mean? Paul didn't know what I was doing - he was as curious as everyone else. It's ten years since I really communicated with him. I know as much about him as he does about me, which is zilch. About two years ago, he turned up at the door. I said, 'Look, do you mind ringin' first? I've just had a hard day with the baby. I'm worn out and you're walkin' in with a damn guitar!"

#john and paul #picking interviews apart #last mclennon meeting #dakota that damned place #mclennon #the beatles #john lennon interview #paul mccartney interview

[0bviouslyem1ly]

do you have any age regressor Lucifer Morningstar (from Lucifer) headcanons?

Hi hi! I love your blog, ty for the ask!

Age regressor Lucifer Morningstar headcannons!

•I feel like he doesn't really know why he regresses, or what it even is. He just knows that he does it, and it helps him get his mind off all the stress from everything that's happened to him with his dad and Michael.

•He probably started acting more childish, doing some pranks, maybe bothering Dan more.

•Linda was probably the first one to know. Lucifer opened up to her about how he just wanted to feel small and safe sometimes and that he liked kids things, and Linda explained to him what age regression was, and what he can do about it.

•Once he figured out more about what he does, he felt better about it.

•Chloe noticed how he was acting differently, and confronted him about it. He was a bit nervous to tell her, but he told her some of the things Linda had talked to him about.

•Chloe was supportive and happy that he was okay sharing that with her, and that she'll help whenever she can.

•His main caregivers would probably be Amenadiel and Maze would probably "help." Her version of help would most likely be throwing knives at a wall with him, but eventually she becomes a bit soft for little Lucifer.

•He would love playing games with Trixie, all the time! They'd play Monopoly, and lots of other fun board games.

•He'd color with Trixie, too. She'd give him some of her coloring pages, crayons, markers, or whatever tools he'd like.

•I think Lucifer would love stickers and markers a lot when he's regressed. Especially stickers!

•His little age is between 3-7? Maybe younger.

•Chloe would surprise him with packs of stickers once and a while, and she's bring him some snacks or drinks. (Homemade cupcakes or cookies, maybe?)

•Dan would somehow be convinced to be his babysitter for the day, and Dan eventually gets a bit of a soft spot for Lucifer. He'd even give him a pudding cup every time he babysits him!

I hope you enjoy the headcannons! I did my best, haha. Thank you! 😊

#sfw age regression #sfw little blog #lucifer agere #lucifer netflix #sfw interaction only #sfw regression

[ace7librarian]

What if in some universe, another identity, miss Holloway was a librarian?

As a librarian, I know a lot about people in my town - what people read tells you a lot about them. I know who's unhappy with their partner, I know who's children struggle with their mental health, I know all of the gossip of the old ladies.

Miss Holloway could spy on the citizens pretty easily- she would organise the library in a way that books about the paranormal would be just in her line of sight. If someone would come to the library for information, she would be there to help.

Jane used to come a lot, taking one or two books for herself ans some books for tim. Tom was pretty lost the first time he took Tim to the library, but after a while he started to look at some books himself.

The nerds, of course, are always there. Pete took Steph to see the library once. She took a comics and almost forgot to bring it back. Grace is... Grace. No smut in the library.

Linda is there with her blonde boys, despising every second of it. River is just trying to read and his brothers won't let him.

Becky used to come all the time, reading every romance book, but for a long time, she arrived once a year, apologising for returning the books so late and not staying fir more than two minutes. After her husband "left her", she came back to reading regularly.

Charlotte is one of the sweet religious woman that reads the most erotic shit you've seen. I see so much of them.

Bill is reading emotional and inspirational books, and lately he took some books about parenting. Sometimes he runs into Sylvia, who's reading sweet romance books.

Mr Davidson took every erotic book he could find.

Zoey tried reading les mis, got bored and never returned it.

Young ted took books about flirting.

Alice and deb go on dates in the library. I saw a straight couple do it once, it's adorable. Alice and Deb are both fandom trash, convince me otherwise.

Frank is not taking tons of books, but he trusts miss Holloway's recommendations and is almost never disappointed. He's never late. He can't afford that.

Sometimes, when the library is closed, wiley is there, switching the order of the books and turning them so you can't see the binding like a fucking monster.

Maybe she met duke while he looked for psychology books.

Hannah comes to the library every day, she's reading fantasy books in the corner and stays until closing time. Lex was worried about this, she didn't know you didn't have to pay for the library. Miss Holloway notices every lonely kid reading alone. She talks to Hannah. Maybe when Hannah is older she gets a job at the library too.

Credits to the Israeli starkid group for some of the ideas, and to my boss for casually admitting she's a witch.

#starkid #hatchetfield #the guy who didn't like musicals #black friday musical #nightmare time #nerdy prudes must die #miss holloway #wilbur cross #duke keane #hannah foster #tom houston #becky barnes #jane perkins #grace chasity #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #frank pricely #bill woodward #alice woodward #zoey chambers #charlotte sweetly #linda monroe #lex foster #team starkid #rambling in librarian

[uwmspeccoll]

Steamy Saturday

Everyone knows that nurses marry doctors, right? Well, that seems to be common knowledge among readers of nurse romance novels in the mid-1950s. So much so that it serves as the title for Nurses Marry Doctors by romance novelist Maud McCurdy Welch, published in pulp paperback by Airmont Books in 1956.

The story is pretty corny and entirely predictable (you know almost from the opening lines that our protagonist, nurse Linda Stephens, will end up with the young, attractive, and brilliant surgeon Julian Paige, whom she has immediately sets her sights on), but it does produce some 1950s steam. Dr. Paige doesn't believe doctors should get married (too much of a distraction, of course), and besides, nurse Stephens is being pursued by the rakish Dr. Phil Manley, who, much to her chagrin, drives too fast (a metaphor, no doubt). There are a few other narrative smoke bombs, like a 17-year-old jailbait socialite, an adorable, orphaned child, and a custody battle with some toothless, backwoods yokels. And, nurse Stephens could probably get to keep adorable-orphan if she would only my Dr. Manley (who is entirely convinced of such an arrangement). But in the end, there's still good old, anti-marriage Dr. Paige, who finally succumbs to Linda Stephens's tender charms.

It is such a predictable narrative, that we don't mind spoiling it by showing you the novel's last lines, where the lovebirds profess their mutual passion for each other, and the victorious doctor envelopes the nurse, vampire-like, in a love embrace. This is such a common ending for nurse romance novels of this period, where the enveloping embrace is more often accompanied by a passionate kiss, and sometimes with the expectation that the nurse will relinquish her professional pursuits to subsume herself to her doctor-vampire-husband, that here at UWM Special Collections we call it "the eating of the nurse."

View other pulp fiction posts.

#Steamy Saturday #nurse romance fiction #nurse romance novels #romance fiction #pulp fiction #nurses #Nurses Marry Doctors #Maud McCurdy Welch #Airmont Books

[christopheroshea]

Random Dwampyverse Background Character Headcanons

Nancy is married to an agent of the British Spy Union name Verity who didn't know of her wife's involvement in evil until a particularly despicable plot that Nancy's companions persuaded her to partake in got out of hand. After that, Nancy found a way to nip it in the bud, change her ways and now she lives an easier life at Verity's home, occasionally helping with missions.

Verity is the one with the purple and white dress.

Nancy's a person of sweet nature at heart, and has innocent tendencies, and was only convinced to become a L.O.V.E. M.U.F.F.I.N. member through being told that the group's name is a trick of psychology against O.W.C.A.. Like if they believe they're the good guys it would lead them into a false sense of security and kinda making it easier to reveal their weaknesses or something like that. She's also a theatre nerd.

Here's Doof's friends from 'Act Your Age', from left to right, Memphis, Shane, Saul and Coleen.

Memphis Gero and Saul Stromberg are doctors at Danville Hospital and Saul is the more outspoken and active one. He is a good person at his job and is very qualified, which kinda gets him the more important tasks and other operations. He can get big headed because of this and jump into things without thinking which can land him into trouble.

He's the same person that took Linda and Lawrence into those caverns in 'Save Summer' but one of his incidents involved an injury on his chin and nose, which was altered from his request. He also dyed his hair blonde since.

Memphis keeps more to himself but that's not to say he isn't as qualified. He just doesn't parade it as much. He's one of the usual jokey friends along with Saul when with Heinz.

Shane hadn't been friends with them long before he passed (kinda because I didn't quite care enough to develop him lol).

Coleen is Saul's wife who runs a seaside restaurant named The Wheelhouse and gets along cooperatively with her husband. Both having a lot of the same opinions and love each other very much though Coleen sometimes has to calm him down when he gets too far ahead into potential messes. They’re also Thaddeus, Thor and Mandy’s parents.

Alfie is the calm voice of reason of the team and the level headed man who seems to have a calm, peaceful life that his friends would love to have. Gardening in a downtown allotment, teaching horticulture at Jefferson County Middle School.

He and Heinz' other friends own the O.W.C.A. agents in 'The O.W.C.A. Files' as pets. Saul and Coleen own Kenny the cat, Alfie owns Maggie the macaw as a carrier pigeon and Memphis owns Harry the Hyena.

Baljeet's mum is named Nisha. She's a Maths teacher at Jefferson County and she's the sort of teacher that's easily pushed about by students. She helps keep calm through running her own allotment on the same area as Alfie, who is a good emotional support figure to her.

She was the one who helped Baljeet become as academically gifted as he is but he was the one who helped her in return to stand up for herself and have a bit more fun in her life, thanks to the Phineas and Ferb influence.

#phineas and ferb #milo murphy's law #dwampyverse #love muffin #pnf headcanons

[nisaconite]

read on ao3 - this one's for you, @juliettefarbrooke-sso <3

Juliette is all too used to the rifts.

Ever since she and Anne tore one open in the Guardian’s Dale without a keystone after Elizabeth’s death, they’ve been a recurring problem all over the map, sometimes without warning. Where before, Juliette could sense one opening up hours before it actually happened, now she’ll be entirely through one and halfway to Pandoria before she even realizes she’s not galloping through the Forgotten Fields anymore. It’s a testament to just how much bigger they are, too — the most that could ever sneak through a rift just some months ago were a couple crystals, and now she has to herd back shadow seekers and panda rays before she can seal reality into not destroying itself.

“How did I never feel this before?” Juliette had muttered wonderingly on one particular occasion in which the burst of energy emanating from the rift had been so strong she was sure she could’ve felt it from back home even all those months ago.

Anne had shot her a wry smirk. “This never used to happen before. We messed something up bad getting you and Alex out of chaos space.” Juliette felt a strange surge of guilt when she’d noticed the frustrated furrow in the prettier girl’s perfectly-shaped brows, even though she hadn’t exactly had a choice in the matter. “It’s getting kind of ridiculous, honestly.”

“It has to stop eventually, right?” She had suggested hopefully, but quite possibly only ended up jinxing it, because it only got worse from there.

It’s no wonder that what used to be a single-person mission, capable of being undertaken by a druid just barely connected to one of the Circles, now requires at least three Soul Riders — two if it’s Anne and Juliette, who can access the Sun Circle (mostly) at will. Today, though, it’s all five of them, in part because the ripple effect was so bad that Juliette had to take three tylenols and Anne four before either of them could get up long enough to tack up their horses. The migraine lessens when she’s atop Cato, their soul bond soaking up enough of the strain that it recedes to background discomfort, but the point stands. The other part is because they’re all so bored of having to travel halfway across the island to close some rift that they’ve started meeting up halfway like it’s a group hangout instead of the fate of the world hanging in the balance.

Currently, they’re moving at a pace that would make Fripp fall back into a coma if he could see them now, all sipping at the milkshakes that Alex convinced them to grab on their way to the ferry dock at Fort Pinta; Lisa has a brain freeze and is hanging mournfully from Starshine’s back, auburn hair too close to grazing the ground for how short it is. Linda looks mildly anxious, fingers twitching around her reins as if ready to catch the smaller girl were she to fall to her concussion.

Starshine’s complaints make an excellent soundtrack to their current conversation, while their Soul Horses merely indulge him with idle placations. Well, Cato and Concorde do, at least — Tin-Can is laughing in that way Juliette has never known how to explain that horses do, and Meteor has his own troubles.

“I told you,” Alex is insisting, at Anne rather than to her, since she doesn’t seem to care much at all about whether or not she’d been told, “Those milkshakes would be worth the time. You can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.” She lifts her cup in emphasis.

She is, technically, right. Anne can’t argue her point, because she sips at her plain vanilla with just as much enthusiasm as Lisa, if a little more subdued so as not to share her fate. However, the day Anne agrees with Alex will be the day rifts stop opening on Jorvik, which is shaping up to be an unfortunately distant event, and so she just glares.

“Poor Lisa’s paying the price, though,” Juliette offers as a peace treaty.

“Poor Lisa,” Anne repeats with scorn, “brought this on herself.”

Lisa groans pitifully. Linda massages an imaginary headache out of her temples, just to make a point.

Once upon a time, they all — Linda especially — took this kind of thing more seriously. Then they went through hell trying to save Anne, and lost Elizabeth, and then priority became trying to get Alex to crack a smile again, and then keeping it on her face once she did. Then Juliette realized that she didn’t think she’d actually had a full night’s sleep in weeks, and then she realized that Anne was still playing catch-up on life after two months trapped in a crystal, and then they started focusing on the smaller things. The easier things, like sleepovers to stave off the nightmares, races to have something healthy to compete over, and midnight makeovers to embrace the scars. It works for a while, and Juliette starts to think she might love the Soul Riders, a little, until Fripp catches wind of it and gives them his patented Look of Disappointment, and she’s immediately guilty for messing around when the world is at stake.

That doesn’t mean, though, that they can’t still be bitter and rebellious about their responsibilities, teenage-style, which is how they end up taking their time on the way to the tear in reality just past the idyllic, suburban town of New Hillcrest.

This is their vacation of sorts.

“Pretty sad vacation, if you ask me,” Alex scoffs, and Juliette realizes she’d thought the last part out loud.

Lisa hauls herself back right-side up in the saddle with a grumble of agreement, but also discomfort, and Linda finally relaxes enough to launch into a detailed analysis of some new book series she’d picked up at the library the other day. From what Juliette can understand, it’s a sweet romance with a surprisingly dark twist to it, which she notes with interest that Anne seems to appreciate despite her harsh criticism. That, actually, seems to be the manner in which she appreciates most media, which makes movie nights with her all the more entertaining. She briefly entertains the thought of inviting her to the movies, then brushes it off with a wince — it’d be in poor taste to suggest an outing now. Besides, this is very nearly enough; Lisa offers her own input over the sound of Alex pretending to gag, and Juliette takes a sip of her milkshake to hide her grin. She knows exactly how to cause Linda a heart attack with one simple statement.

“The show was better,” she chimes brightly. She’s only actually seen a few episodes, and the book series definitely sounds like something she’d love to check out, but if there was ever a more surefire way to cause chaos…

Linda’s head turns in her direction so quickly that Juliette is half-surprised it doesn’t fall straight off her neck. Anne snorts. Alex groans. “Oh, no, Juli, why would you say that… do you know what you’ve done?”

She shrugs, struggling to hide a smile. Anne shakes her head at her with amusement, and she flushes, fairly certain she’s doing a bad job of it. Linda, though, notices nothing as she inhales deeply, evidently gearing up for a rant.

“Juliette Farbrooke,” she begins, words enunciated with exaggerated incredulity, “you cannot seriously believe that trashy, commercialized adaptation could ever hold a candle to the depth and nuance of the original literary work! The characters in the show were a mere caricature of their book counterparts, and don't even get me started on the plot deviations!"

Juliette can’t help it anymore, and sputters with laughter. “Aw, but Linds, the actors were so pretty.”

Lisa claps a hand to her mouth, amber eyes wide with mirth. “You did not just go there,” she gasps. They all know how much their friend hates the superficiality of a show being popular solely for an actor. In her eyes, there has never been such a low point in cinema as the one that utilizes teenage idols to make itself popular.

However, this has also been a long-repeated debate amongst their ranks, and Linda throws her hands up in mock defeat rather than deciding to repeat her ever-static point. “I give up! You heathens can have your eye candy-filled shows. If any of you ever come to the side of the true literary treasures, I’ll be here, untainted by the glitzy world of Hollywood.”

Anne leans over to pat her on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Linda. We all have our guilty pleasures.”

It’s funny until Juliette’s stomach drops down to her toes, and the area around them starts to paint itself a sickly sort of pink. Her giggle stalls in her throat as she takes in her friends’ frozen expressions — she never really does know how to describe this part. For the others, Pandoria is wrong and innately difficult to step into, like forcing themselves to suck in a lungful of water, or so Lisa’s said. Juliette wouldn’t know, because for her… it’s too easy, in the scary way that swallowing something toxic is. It’s so natural that she always has to remind herself that it will destroy her if she lets it, and Cato is her only grounding point, chestnut coat warm with the exertion of the ride even through her pants.

She tightens her grip on the reins and chances a glance at Anne. She’s glaring straight ahead with angry determination, but the way her hands shake is clearly visible even through her facade. Honestly, she could break out in tears and Juliette wouldn’t blame her in the least: the rift looks dangerous, yawning wide across the wheat field and casting a hazy short of shimmer across the air, disorienting and eerie. There’s nothing there, not really, but everything on the other side of it is distorted to her eyes, like reflections on the surface of a disturbed pond. She hesitates, but Lisa only shrugs as she hums.

“There’s nothing here,” she offers eventually. Her eyes are bright, but there’s no way to tell if it’s just the glow of their surroundings or the strain of using her magic. “Nothing living, anyway. We’re good to close it.”

Juliette nods and takes a steadying breath as she slips out of the saddle. She keeps her hand very firmly on Cato’s neck, just in case, and he leans into her touch, constant and unwavering to the point where she has to crack the tiniest smile. “Right,” she says, confidence bolstered, “let’s get this done.”

Behind her eyelids, everything is still faintly lit, and Pandoria crackles where can hear it clawing its way in, but she concentrates on the lilting quality to Lisa’s voice as she murmurs a healing song for the dying land around them as unreality wreaks its havoc. Straining to make out the words - I’m closing the door behind - kind of muffles everything else enough that she can feel the thrumming power in her chest, surging in the veins of her arms and all the way to her fingertips. Her hands burn, although not unpleasantly, with the familiar fire of the Sun. Slowly, she stitches the earth back together, feeling Pandoria pull itself back until Anne says, “It’s done, Juliette. You can stop now.”

She opens her eyes briefly and immediately has to squeeze them back closed, taken aback by just how bright the sky is. She blinks several times in rapid succession, all too aware that what had felt like a few seconds had probably been several minutes while she worked — the first time she’d dealt with something like this, she’d snapped back to reality to find Alex swarmed with shadow seekers from all sides. They’d managed fine in the end, but Juliette thinks, even now, that it’s unnerving to open her eyes and find a gaping but nonmagical crack in the ground rather than a rift as had been minutes prior.

She heaves a sigh and leans back against Cato’s side, barely even noticing the way the metal of her stirrup digs into her back. Her limbs feel like jelly. “Did you guys know they opened this cute little cafe in the main plaza down in New Hillcrest?”

Linda laughs in surprise. “Leave it to you, Juliette, to remember that now.”

“No, no, I’ve been thinking about it this whole time—“

“Well, we do deserve to treat ourselves after that,” Lisa puts in, almost pleading as if for permission. It’s directed Linda and Anne than anyone else, the former being responsible for their general health in the way the mom friends always are, and the latter tending to slip into relapses after having to deal with the dizzy sensation of Pandoria all over again. Today, though, her expression is light with something almost content, and she shrugs. “I’m up for it.”

“Great,” Juliette says with a smile, her exhaustion already dissipating. “Then it’s settled. I could really go for a brownie.”

(She never does end up getting it — Alex and Lisa do a weird rendition of All I Want for Christmas in the middle of July, serenading random patrons from on top of their table until they get kicked out. But Linda is laughing as she scolds them, and Anne smirks with mirth brighter the sun itself, and Juliette thinks that this might all be worth it.)

#sso #sso mc #my writing #lisa peterson #anne von blyssen #linda chanda #alex cloudmill #proper capitalization? on my blog #it's more likely than you think #unfortunately didn't have a lowercase draft this time ://

[br1ghtestlight]

random lily belcher headcanons:

she absolutely HATED hospital food, like she would refuse to eat it even when she got sick and was staying in the hospital she said it was bcuz she was married to a professional chef so she had an expectation of quality, Big bob had to sneak food into the hospital for her like multiple times a week

she loved having background noise for her entire life (like the static radio station when she was a baby) she loved big bob's snoring and the restaurant conversations and everything, it was very comforting to know other people were around and she would've listened to like nature sounds ambience on youtube if she was alive when that became a thing

she wasn't like a total health nut but she would randomly get into like a miracle cure (not for cancer or a terminal illness but for like a sore throat or whatever) and would be like NO BOB WILL BE OKAY HE JUST HAS A COLD WE NEED TO GIVE HIM 5 CUPS OF PEPPERMINT TEA EVERY DAY AND HIS IMMUNE SYSTEM WILL HEAL and big bob would kinda go along with it but also sneak bob medicine, she was very into like natural soaps and stuff like that she WOULD HAVE been an essential oils enjoyer

she was mostly a stay-at-home mom and worked serving customer's at big bob's restaurant just like linda, she took care of bob when he was younger and big bob was running the restaurant

lily absolutely LOVED being in nature especially bcuz she (presumably) grew up in the city she loved going camping and hiking in the forest and swimming in the ocean, bob and big bob absolutely hated it but she would convince them to come along with her sometimes and they would usually have fun bcuz she was so into it and excited, i feel like she would have enjoyed plant identification and bird watching

she never really cared about her physical appearance or expectations for women at the time or how they were supposed to act, she didn't usually do her hair or wear makeup and big bob was totally okay with this (he was very supportive of her independence which was a somewhat new mindset considering they were dating in the late 60s early 70s) she was probably a 2nd generation bra-burning feminist but maybe a little bit more lowkey (she also probably got this from her own mother)

despite being married to a professional chef she could not cook AT ALL she would find a way to fuck up preparing a sandwich, big bob cooked all the meals in their family and this was fine with everybody bcuz he was already a chef and she didn't really care about learning to cook when she could just force her husband to cook for her /lh Big bob also loved cooking for his family so it worked out

big bob tried teaching her to cook when they first started dating but bcuz of her not being very naturally inclined for it and him being a bit of a control freak it never ended up happening, he did teach bob a lot about cooking later in life though :)

she genuinely did start wearing her pink hat bcuz she just liked it and thought it was a cute look (and bcuz she was too lazy to do her hair) but it ended up coming in handy when her hair started falling out bcuz of cancer

everybody in lily's family thought big bob was kinda an asshole and that lily was too good for him bcuz they just saw him as an emotionally closed-off person who didnt really like socializing and was very blunt but lily really REALLY loved that about him and she loved bob a lot bcuz he reminded her so much of her husband, whenever bob feels bad about himself bcuz he thinks he's too similar to his father he remembers that his mother loved that about him and thought that wasn't a negative thing at all, and it makes him feel a bit better bcuz she always saw the positive aspects of their personalities where others saw negatives

personality-wise lily was like a mix of louise and linda, she definitely got into trouble a lot and didnt care about what other people thought of her and had louise's sense of humor but she was probably slightly nicer and more maternal than louise would be

lily had the WORST sense of humor and thought like those books with jokes for kindergartens and puns were unironically hilarious, bob loved this when he was a little kid bcuz she laughed at all his horrible jokes and it definitely influenced his own sense of humor but big bob thought they were both absolutely ridiculous and he did NOT enjoy puns or wordplay based humor (sometimes bcuz he didnt really understand it and felt stupid)

#SORRY THIS IS SO LONG i have more thoughts on her than any of the bobs burgers writers #and that is a PROMISE #might add more in the future idk #txt #bob's burgers #headcanons

[the-rewatch-rewind]

Sometimes our childhood favorites really are that good.

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today I will be talking about number 25 on my list: Disney’s 1994 animated musical The Lion King, directed by Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff, written by Irene Mecchi, Jonathan Roberts, and Linda Woolverton, featuring the voice talents of Matthew Broderick, Jeremy Irons, and James Earl Jones.

Desperate for power, Scar (voiced by Jeremy Irons) murders his brother, King Mufasa (voiced by James Earl Jones), then blames and exiles his nephew Simba (voiced by Jonathan Taylor Thomas as a cub and by Matthew Broderick as an adult). Simba grows up in the wilderness with the help of a meerkat named Timon (voiced by Nathan Lane) and a warthog named Pumbaa (voiced by Ernie Sabella), whose motto is “Hakuna Matata” or “no worries.” But after Scar and his hyena henchmen destroy the pridelands, royal advisor mandrill Rafiki (Robert Guillaume), Simba’s childhood friend and adulthood lover Nala (voiced by Niketa Calame and Moira Kelly), and the ghost of Mufasa all remind Simba that he actually does have some worries, and convince him to return home to challenge his uncle.

Apparently the first movie I ever saw in a theater was a re-release of Pinocchio, but the first movie I actually remember seeing in a theater is The Lion King. My aunt took me to see it first, and while I don’t have many specific memories of that experience (I was four), I do remember being overwhelmed with awe. I loved the characters, I loved the gorgeous animation, I loved the music, I loved the intense emotions – everything about it spoke to me. Later that year, I visited Disneyland for the first time, and the main things I remember from that trip are watching a Lion King themed parade and visiting a gift shop at the end of the day to get a Simba stuffed animal, which I still have. After we got back home, my mom took my sister and me to see the movie at a second-run theater, and I was very excited to be able to bring my Simba to see it with me. My sister also brought a stuffed animal of her own. I have a very distinct memory of being in the bathroom of that particular theater after watching this movie and saying, “Simba was very brave,” and when my sister commented that her stuffed animal was brave too, I said, “No, I mean in the MOVIE!” Why that has stuck with me for almost three decades I have no idea, but that exchange is indicative of how much I wanted to talk about this movie for my entire childhood.

As I mentioned in the Sound of Music episode, to my friend Christina’s shock, despite growing up in the 90s, I did not have a VCR until I was about 10 or 11 years old, which was around when most people started replacing their VCRs with DVD players. But my grandparents, who lived about a thousand miles away, had one, so I got to watch videos whenever we went to visit them, which was usually for several weeks once or twice a year. My grandma is not much of a movie person, and she only very rarely watches something more than once, so she has always been baffled and slightly amused by my penchant for rewatching. Before The Lion King, my favorite thing to watch over and over at their house was a video of four old cartoon shorts, two of which featured Humpty Dumpty, but after The Lion King was available for home viewing, that was what I wanted to watch the most. Whenever I put it on, my grandma would teasingly inquire, “How many times have you watched it now, Jane?” and for a while I could answer precisely, but I lost track somewhere around 10, 11, or 12 views, and that’s part of what eventually led me to start keeping track of my movie watching in 2003. So if this podcast was based on total rewatches throughout my life, The Lion King would be much higher in this ranking.

Eventually we did get a VCR and a DVD player, and we got a special edition DVD of The Lion King around 2004. We also got The Lion King 1 ½, which I very much enjoyed for a time, but haven’t revisited since 2005. I remember watching The Lion King II a few times, but apparently they were all before 2003, so I don’t remember much about it. But as far as the original Lion King, since keeping track, I saw it three times in 2003, twice each in 2004, 2005, and 2006, once each in 2008, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2017, 2018, and 2019, twice in 2020, and once in 2022. When my brother and I watched through all the theatrically released animated Disney films and ranked them in 2020, we knew we would be biased toward our childhood favorites, but I think we were both unprepared for just how clear it would be why the Disney Renaissance is so named. The striking, exponential increase in quality over the films immediately preceding this era cannot be overstated. But while the early Renaissance masterpieces The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast are incredible, we noticed that some of the animation sequences left something to be desired. Aladdin was much improved in that sense, with some breath-taking scenes – seriously, re-watch Aladdin’s attempted escape from the collapsing Cave of Wonders. And then The Lion King. Nearly 30 years after it came out, The Lion King is still one of the most gorgeous movies I’ve ever seen. I knew going into that project that it would probably end up pretty high on the list, but even I was kind of shocked to find that, at least based on the specific criteria we were looking at, there was no contest. The Lion King was number one. We definitely had differences of opinion throughout the project, but on that we were in complete agreement.

One thing that I particularly noticed while we were doing that project is that The Lion King’s voice cast was one of if not the most racially diverse of all animated Disney movies up to that point, which shows just how incredibly low the bar was, since most of the main cast is white. Robert Guillaume was put in a similar position as Samuel E. Wright in The Little Mermaid in having to adopt a rather stereotypical accent, but despite that, his is an excellent performance. The main hyenas were at one point going to be voiced by Cheech and Chong, and Cheech does voice one of them, but Chong had to drop out and was ultimately replaced by Whoopi Goldberg, which worked perfectly because hyenas are matriarchal, and because there really needed to be more female characters in this movie. Sarabi, Simba’s mother, was voiced by Madge Sinclair, in her final feature film, and definitely deserved a bigger role. Nala is really the only other female character who is at all important, and for some reason while young Nala is voiced by black actress Niketa Calame, adult Nala is voiced by white actress Moira Kelly. Not that she does a bad job or anything, I just don’t understand why they couldn’t have cast another black actress. But at least they cast James Earl Jones as Mufasa. His voice and acting were so perfect that he played Mufasa again in the 2019 remake – which, despite having an iconic and much less white cast, I will never voluntarily watch because the few clips I’ve seen look like they were made by a group of internet trolls as a bad joke, but I digress. All of the voice acting in this movie is fabulous, but James Earl Jones’s performance is unquestionably in the top two, along with Jeremy Irons’s portrayal of Scar.

I absolutely love Disney villains, and Scar has always been one of my favorites. I remember once when I was fairly young trying to articulate to my parents how much it delighted me that when he tells Simba that Mufasa’s death is Simba’s fault, his exact wording of “If it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive” was technically true on multiple levels, because not only did Mufasa die trying to rescue Simba, but it was also Simba’s birth that made Scar desperate to kill both of them, since before Simba was born he was first in line for the throne. But Scar was neglecting to mention that he was the one who had arranged the stampede. And I thought that was SO CLEVER and it blew my child mind. In more recent years, it has occurred to me that part of why I’m so drawn to villains is because they rarely have romantic partners. Sometimes that’s because of the painful stereotype that the hero wins romance and the villain is punished with singleness, but often the villain shows no interest in romance, and that is the case with Scar – or at least, the version of him that ended up in the movie. At one point he was going to hit on Nala and prompt her to leave the Pridelands, which is a storyline that was added back in for the Broadway musical. I appreciate that the creators of the musical wanted to expand the female characters, but I feel like there were better ways of doing that than showing Nala being sexually harassed. Anyway, movie Scar, like many if not most animated Disney villains, is very queer-coded and could potentially be aroace, and even though he is very evil, I’ll take any representation I can get. The way his ultimate downfall is that he betrayed his friends emphasizes the importance of maintaining trust in non-romantic relationships at a level that most stories wouldn’t dare approach.

Speaking of queerness, Timon and Pumbaa are the closest a Disney animated feature has come to showing a gay couple raising a child together. Personally I like to think of their partnership as a QPR, or queer-platonic relationship, which is a committed intimate relationship that is not romantic but is also different from a friendship, but that is entirely the aromantic in me projecting. To anyone out there who reads them as being in romantic love, that is a 100% valid interpretation. As is the interpretation that they’re friends. Their relationship is ambiguous, and I kind of love that. I wish that the movie hadn’t forced Simba and Nala into a friends-to-lovers path. Their friendship as kids makes me so happy, and their romance as adults has always confused me. For a long time I assumed that it was normal to eventually fall in love with a friend of the opposite sex, and that there was something wrong with me for not doing that. But it got to the point where now I’m just annoyed at that part. Not that Can You Feel the Love Tonight? isn’t an excellent song – it is! I just…don’t really think it belongs in this movie. And I get that they wanted the story to end as it began with a baby lion to emphasize the Circle of Life theme, but still. It would have been nice to have ONE Disney Renaissance film that wasn’t steeped in romance (besides The Rescuers Down Under, which doesn’t really count).

So yeah, there are things about this movie I don’t love, but they are so overshadowed by the aspects I do love that I don’t usually dwell on them. Even after all these rewatches, there are still scenes that give me chills. That opening, when the sun and Lebo M’s voice break through at the exact same moment, and all the animals are heading to Pride Rock through the fog and the intro to Circle of Life – ugh, it’s so beautiful! And the wildebeest stampede! Apparently it took over two years just to animate that two-and-a-half-minute stampede scene, using and innovating new computer programs and systems, and man, did that work pay off! As with the opening, the score and choir greatly enhance the stampede scene as well. Even if I didn’t love the story and the characters – which I do – the gorgeous animation and music would be enough to convince me to keep rewatching this movie. Which is particularly interesting given that most of Disney’s top animators at the time, along with Disney Renaissance music superstar Alan Menken, were working on Pocahontas instead because the studio wasn’t really taking this lion movie seriously. So the visuals were created by relatively inexperienced animators, and the score was by Hans Zimmer, who had never worked on an animated film before. The story itself went through a staggering number of concept changes and rewrites. Three people are officially credited as screenwriters, but then there are 17 people credited with contributing to the story, an additional eight people credited under “additional story material,” plus a story supervisor. At one point it was going to be a story about lions vs baboons, and the original title was King of the Jungle before somebody realized that lions don’t actually live in the jungle. Eventually the pitch became “Bambi in Africa meets Hamlet” and everyone just ran with that. Somehow, seemingly by accident, exactly the right people with exactly the right talent and dedication managed to create a masterpiece out of what by all logic should have been a disaster, and learning all of this over the years has made me appreciate it even more.

The Lion King is also full of difficult lessons that I still find relevant as an adult. Hakuna Matata is a good motto to apply to things you truly have no control over, but should never be used as an excuse not to work on problems you can do something about. Often it’s hard to tell which is which, and that’s why we all need friends and mentors like Nala and Rafiki to help. This movie also provides a deep and profound portrayal of grief through the eyes of a child, and how it stays with him through adulthood. Many other Disney protagonists have deceased or absent parents, but there’s no other moment in the Disney canon anywhere near as devastating as Mufasa’s death. It’s not exactly the same situation, but my aunt who first took me to see this movie died of cancer when I was 11. That was the first real loss of my life, and I think the fact that I will always associate The Lion King with her has significantly deepened my appreciation for this movie. My first viewing in 2020, before my brother and I embarked on our Disney project, was in honor of the 18th anniversary of her death, and I sobbed through most of the movie. It was very cathartic. I know that The Lion King is widely beloved and acclaimed – it’s the highest grossing 2D animated film of all time, it won two Oscars, it has 93% on Rotten Tomatoes, and it’s currently ranked #37 on IMDb’s top 250 movies – but it still feels incredibly personal to me. It was the first movie that I ever fell truly, deeply in love with, so it will always be one of my favorites.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched movies. Stay tuned for next week, when I will be talking about another Disney film that I’ve seen 19 times. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “Darling. Could you, like, chill for a sec?”

#the lion king #lion king #disney #the rewatch rewind

[apotatomashedbybts]

But You Do...

➡Pairing: Doctor!Kim Namjoon × oc (Seo Lee)

➡Genre: fluff, angst, romance

➡Trope/au: strangers to lovers, slice of life

➡Rating: NC-17

➡Triggers/warnings: Graphic depiction of verbal abuse and emotional abuse, infliction of harm to health, toxic family relationships, description of pollen allergy, lots of crying, OC's mother is a bitch

➡Word Count: 3.5k+

➡Banner(s): made by apotatomashedbybts

➡ Summary: A simple wish of having a loving family was never so simple for Lee. So when she ran away from that unfulfilled wish she realised that not all wishes are granted the way they are wanted. And sometimes a loving family can be a single person too.

➡ Disclaimer: This fanfiction was originally posted 2 YEARS AGO ON JULY 03, 2019 AT 12:34 AM. The description of the symptoms and effect caused by the allergy and the treatments may not be accurate. The italics indicate flashbacks/past incidents.

➡ Author's note: I wish I was this consistent when I was posting these chapters originally! But at least I am going to do that for the first three chapters now. Again as I said in the first chapter, I hope and pray no one is going through such time. And if someone is then please reach out. Even venting about it helps a lot.

Let me know your thoughts on this one! I always appreciate and look forward to feedbacks. And they give me motivation to writeeeee!!! :)💜🌼

The alarm clock pulled Lee out of her dreamless sleep earning itself a groan from her.

"Why did I even put on the alarm in the first place?" She thought to herself irritatingly and pulled the blanket closer, clearly attempting to get some more sleep. After about half an hour, she woke up to check the time. With half closed eyes she saw that it was 10:30am. Her head felt heavy and she thought to herself, "Ah! I will sleep for 30 minutes more." Then rolling over she stuffed her face into the pillow and went back to sleep again.

She woke up with a start, head still dizzy from sleeping so much, and looking at her mobile she noticed that it was 2:45pm. "I will sleep for five minutes more. I am not that hungry yet." She convinced herself and like that her five more minutes turned into a few more hours and when she finally woke up the sun had already gone down and her stomach grumbled like thunder because of hunger. Pulling herself out of the bed she took a quick shower and decided to eat outside because she wasn't feeling like eating that hotel's food tonight.

Walking through the crowd of returning office workers she sighed heavily. She wondered if her life would be like that one day too where she could return back to her family at the end of the day. But again the memories of family only pained her and that's why she took this decision to begin with. She told herself that days will get better and stopped in front of a tteokbeoki shop. Inhaling the savoury scent she walked in smiling and took an empty seat in the corner.

As Lee made herself comfortable and waited for the waiter to approach her a group of cheerful young boys and girls entered the shop and took the empty table that was just opposite to her's. She tried to ignore all the ruckus that they were causing but then suddenly her eyes caught something which made her heart participate in a tantrum along with her brain.

"Holy fuck! I totally forgot that Linda's distant friends are coming today for the late bachelorette party! Oh God why are you doing this? Why here of all places?"

Her body reacted involuntarily and she moved to the opposite seat where her back was facing at them. She prayed hard to go unnoticed by her sister and thanked God that she decided to wear the new hoodie tonight that none of her family members had seen yet. Putting on the pollution mask she shook her legs anxiously as the waiter reached her to take the order. She pulled away her mask slightly and almost tried to whisper out the words - out of fear that her sister would recognise her voice - and said, "I'll order a tteokbeoki to go please. And also please make it quick. I am actually in a bit of hurry," and displaying a constipated smile she went back to her anxious leg-shaking session.

.

Lee couldn't remember when was the last time she had walked so fast. It was as if a psycho killer was on a hunt for her. Releasing her body on the bed she took in the much needed breath and sighed loudly.

"Why do I always find myself running away from the ones I love? Why am I so unlucky?" She asked the unknown entity and wiped away the tears that had started to fall.

"Come on mom! You can't do that! You know that Lee is allergic to flowers! If you are planning on decorating the whole venue with flowers then you are definitely doing a mistake?"

Lee could hear her brother argue with her mom from inside her room. She just felt bad for her brother that he had to argue for her. In this family only her brother was the one who had ever supported her. Though her father sympathised with her but he never visibly supported her, at least never in front of his wife.

"What do you mean by I am doing a mistake? An wedding venue without flowers? It's our Linda's wedding! You know how much she likes flowers! Of course I am going to decorate the whole venue with flowers!" Mrs. Seo retorted.

"Then at least don't make her the maid of honour! She shouldn't even attend the wedding. Mom! You will kill her!" Lee could sense the extreme anger in his voice. She just wanted to go out and stop them but she knew that it would only make everything worse. So she decided to go back to what she was doing - searching for potential jobs online.

"See Logan, it's totally Lee's fault that she is allergic to flowers! And she IS going to be the Maid of Honour, no matter what! There's no one who is willing to take the pressure of that position! So swallow it and shut up. I have work to do." Saying this she went to her room humming happily, a happiness that came from victory.

Logan turned around, frustrated because of the evident defeat, and noticed that Linda was leaning on the kitchen door with a lollipop in her mouth. It was quite clear from her expression that she watched the whole argument and was quite happy with how it went.

It didn't take much time for Logan to understand what was happening, so he went straight upto her and asked, "It was you, wasn't it? How could you?"

She rolled her eyes and taking out the lollipop from her mouth, replied, "Me? What did I do? Why are you charging at me?"

"Come on! Do you think I am a fool who can't see through you? You are the reason behind mom being stubborn!" Logan replied after scoffing.

"So what? It's my fucking wedding! I like flowers and I will decide who my maid of honour will be! It's none of your business! Fill your wedding venue with plastics for all I care and stay away from ruining mine!" Logan looked at her frustratingly as she turned on her heels and went into her room after saying all these.

A defeated sigh made its way out of his lungs and Logan turned around to go back to his room only to find Lee standing outside her door and looking at him - a look that he could recognise right away, a look that he was habituated to see since he was mature enough to understand - with sadness and gratefulness.

She walked up to him and ruffling his messy hair smiled at him with adoration. "I am sorry. It's my fault that you have to go through this all the time." She said choking back the tears.

"It's not your fault! It never was!" He replied, and looked away sighing.

"Okay! Leave this. Let's go get some ice cream outside! Hmm? My treat!" She looked at his face with a pleading look. A desperate try to calm him down sat down in her heart.

He just nodded and smiled, trying hard to not make his sister more upset. Since he was a child, the difference in treating his oldest sister and the others in family was quite apparent to him and he couldn't help but protest against it. He loved his oldest sister dearly and could understand how miserable she felt but his opinions regarding Lee had always been next to nothing to everyone else in the family.

"Ah! The weather is so nice today! Which flavour should we get?" Lee asked with a cheery smile and looked through the menu placard.

"I want the vanilla ice cream with honey!" Logan said, pointing to the one he wanted.

"Okay then! One vanilla ice cream with honey and one rainbow cone, please." Lee ordered with a polite smile.

Instead of returning right away, they sat on the swings in the nearby park and talked while eating the ice creams.

"Are you sure that you will be okay with this?"

Lee could understand that Logan was never going to stop worrying but there was nothing she could do too. So she accepted her fate, her mother's judgement.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry! I'll go through this just fine! You should worry about yourself. Aren't you going on a date with your crush, Belle, tomorrow? Let me give you some useful tips!" Lee winked at her brother.

"Ah! Stop, I will just deal with it right! And restrict yourself from thinking yourself as some kind of love guru, ha ha ha, you are the one here who needs an advice." Logan burst out laughing while leaning towards his front.

"You are such a brat! I am not talking with you! Hmph!" Lee turned her head to the other side showing fake anger. Her brother's small teasing were one of the few things that kept her happy and these felt a lot better than her mother's hurtful words.

Logan knew what would make his sister turn her face towards him. He began swaying the small bowl of half-filled ice cream in front of her nose and started luring her, "Ummm this flavorful ice-cream would just go to waste of I don't finish this right now. I am just gonna gulp this down like water and may be not share this with Lee-the-food-monster. Hmm hmm I should do that." And started taking it back real slowly. Lee just couldn't let the opportunity slip away - she snatched the small bowl from her brother's hand and putting a spoonful in her mouth shoved her half finished cone in Logan's hand and giggled. Oh, how she wished these giggles lasted longer.

.

"Oh so you are back! Done spoiling your own brother? What good have you ever done? What will you ever do with that evil brain of yours?" The stone storms started as soon as they stepped through the door. Their mother was just waiting for them to "place them on the right track'.

"At least I won't bully my own daughter!" Lee replied and suddenly loud cheers and the song La-da-da-da-dah /It's the one and only D-O-double-G started playing in the background and someone put black sunglasses on her eyes and a cigar in Lee's mouth .

"Are you even listening to what I am saying? Whenever I am seeing you, you are always staring into the space and daydreaming!" The shout from her mom pulled Lee out of her trance and she blinked her eyes several times realising that it was only her imagination. She sighed loudly and stayed silent - after all her replies would only get more replies back.

Her mom shook her head in frustration and said, "I can't stop you from being a disappointment but do me a favour and go to sleep! Next week is your sister's wedding and the last thing I would want is to get blamed for your horrible looks. And Logan, dear, stop hanging out with her so much honey, it's for your betterment." Piercing this words through Lee's heart Mrs. Seo went back to her room.

"Hey, let's go to sleep okay? Good night!" Lee wished her brother in a shaky voice and went inside her room in a hurry. Logan knew what she was going to do now but he had nothing he could do so he whispered a small 'I love you' to her before she closed the door behind her.

Switching off the lights she curled into a ball on her bed. She did this every time she got hurt by her mother. It was as if she was seeking the warmth in herself that she wanted from her mother. By this time she should have gotten used to all of these but still she hadn't. All she ever wanted was a loving family, a loving mother like they show in the TVs, like her friends had. She wanted to hear loving words but all she ever heard from her mother was how she wanted to die because of her. She thought it was ridiculous that no matter how much she was hurt, no matter how much her heart was wounded, she always went back to seek that unreachable warmth, she always called out in a silent voice to her mom to soothe her in between her uncontrollable sobs. But the silent screams that faded into the darkness were the only companions she had and sometimes she didn't even mind them.

~Wedding day~

Lee hummed happily while getting ready for her sister's big day. The main reason was though not the wedding, it was her job confirmation that she received last night. She have to move to Seoul for it next month and she had decided to share the happy news with everyone at evening while giving toast. She hurriedly made a few important calls reminding all the bridesmaids to arrive at the venue sharply at 11 am and went to have her breakfast before doing her make-up. She was alone at her house because her mother had strictly told her to arrive at the venue just half an hour before the ceremony began and she herself had drove away to the venue along with the others at dawn. Though surprised at such a weird order Lee dared not to question her mother so she had kept shut and stayed back.

Arriving at the venue Lee looked into every arrangements carefully and though she had taken her medicines in the morning, the presence of so many flowers were not being her friend at all. Displaying a troubled smile she went in to bring the bride and corrected the order in which everyone was going to enter the altar.

She was going to enter the venue alone right after bridesmaids and ushers. She smiled to herself nervously and entered when suddenly a bucket full of pink rose petals fell on her. She was surprised at first then horrified after realising what just happened. A few seconds passed by before her eyes blurred out slightly and she noticed her mom smiling with satisfaction. She quickly walked to the altar to take the inhaler secretly and waited impatiently for the bride and groom to take their vows. After the completion of vows she quickly walked over to her mother and said, "Mom, can you please come with me to the guestroom?"

Her mom sighed reluctantly and followed who was followed shortly by Logan.

"What is it?" Her mom demanded. Lee rummaged through her bag frantically for her medicines but there weren't any. She remembered that she had forgotten to buy the refills amidst the weddding preparations and cursed herself mentally. She turned around to face her mother who had an unpleasant look on her face. Lee took the inhaler sharply and asked, "What is it? Are you asking me that question seriously? Is this some kind of sick joke? See mom, I know you don't like me but you didn't have to do this!"

Her mom displayed a shocked expression and replied, "What do you mean? That was only because I wanted to create a beautiful moment for you!"

"Are you even listening to yourself mom? Sorry for talking to you like this but you have lost your mind! The thought of 'creating beautiful moments' for me never crossed your mind for even once in all these fucking years and now you are doing this in front of everyone when you are clearly aware of the fact that I am allergic to flowers! You know very well how they affect me!" Lee started breathing heavily after saying all these without a break and noticed her brother entering through the door quietly.

"It's totally your fault that beautiful things never suit you! How can a human being can be allergic to such beautiful things? This shows how bad of a soul you are! It feels so unbelievable that I gave birth to a child like you! What wrong have I ever done to have you? Look at your sister! And look at you! You can see the difference, right? Why don't you kill me already! Or die yourself! Seriously I can't stand you in front of my eyes! And as I have never, I will never love you in the future! You are just a curse! And you honestly wanna know why I did what I did?" Her mother moved a little closer to her with the last sentence and after all the yelling, now with a low voice she answered it herself, "I was taking care of 'my' trash."

Lee felt like her mother was shooting daggers at her that pierced right through her heart and the last sentence was the last shove to all the daggers. She felt a surging pain in the middle of her chest. She felt like she would die if she stayed there in the same place as her mother even a few seconds longer. So she ran and the last thing she heard before dashing out of the room was her brother saying, "Mom, that's enough! You have crossed your limit!"

.

Lee woke up from her curled up position with a start when her phone started to ring loudly. She furrowed her eyebrows at the unknown number and picked it up reluctantly.

"Hello? Is this Seo Lee?" A soothing careful voice spoke from the other side of the phone.

"Dr. Kim Namjoon?" She asked surprised.

"H-how? How did you know it's me?" Asked an even more surprised Dr. Kim Namjoon.

"How can I ever forget such an endearing and soothing voice?" Lee whispered to herself.

Not catching what she said Dr. Kim replied, "Sorry.. what did you say?"

"Ah! Nothing, nothing. It's just that I remember your voice! By the way how did you get my number?" Embarrassed, Lee answered quickly to avoid the topic.

"Actually I think you haven't noticed yet but you dropped your wallet at Nari's Tteokbeoki! I was here by chance today and found it lying on the bench. To find the owner I looked into it, sorry for that, and found out your identity card. And a note with number for lost and found purposes," he explained calmly.

Hearing what he said Lee looked around her as if to confirm that she was really missing her wallet. Not finding it she facepalmed and asked herself mentally, "Why am I even doubting him?" and said humbly, "I am so sorry that you had to go through this because of me. Can you please tell me where you are then I can come and pick up my wallet?"

"Of course, I am right here at Nari's Tteokbeoki! I thought may be you live somewhere near and that's why I didn't go anywhere else. I'll be waiting right here! Please take your time." He replied politely.

"Thank you so much. I am hanging up now. See you soon Dr. Kim." Lee replied happily and hung up.

Heaving a relieved sigh Lee rose up to look herself in the mirror and started humming a song that she had listened to recently. She didn't know why but she could sense that she was really happy that she was getting to meet Dr. Kim. She never thought that she will see him again soon but the situation made it possible and her heart fluttered for an unknown reason. She decided to keep the feeling; she wanted to feel the happiness she was feeling right now without caring whether it'd hurt her later or not.

Reaching outside the tteokbeoki place she looked around and inside carefully to see if Linda and her friends were still there and sadly they were.

"For how long are they gonna stay here? Geez!" Lee thought to herself and went to the alley beside the shop.

She took out her phone to call Dr. Kim when a tap on her shoulder startled her and made her turn around with a start. The surprised look on the handsome man's face before her made her calm down a bit and she scratched the back of head embarrassingly, repeating a train of sorry-s.

"You don't have to apologize so much. Here, your wallet. I am glad that I found it otherwise it could have went to some bad people's hands." Dr. Namjoon Kim replied smiling.

Lee looked at his smiling face and wondered how a human being could be so ethereal. The heart that was thumping madly until now out of fear was still thumping but for another reason.

"L-let me treat you to coffee tomorrow if you are free!" Lee blurted out before she could even think it through and crossed her fingers mentally wishing to not get rejected.

"Sure! I would love that. Let me walk you home then!" He offered, the angelic smile still hung on his lips.

"No no, it's totally fine. It's not far from here and the place is always busy too! So there will be no problem at all. I'll reach home safe! You already did a lot!" Lee blabbered out, still contemplating the fact that he agreed to her offer and also not wanting him to find out that she was staying at a hotel.

"Okay then.. reach home safely. I'll text you when I'll be free tomorrow. See you later. Bye!" He said and waved cheerfully before turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

A happy sigh came out of Lee's lungs and she asked herself, "Why did I bring up the coffee suddenly?"

The answer was clear, "Because I want to see him again."

■□■□■□■□■□■

->Chapter three

— Ⓒ 2022 apotatomashedbybts, all rights reserved. Reposting or modifying of any kind is not allowed. Translations are not allowed.

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #btsgoldnet #btshoneyhive #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon au #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #but you do... #chapter two #but you do chapter two #namjoon series #doctor Namjoon #knj #namjoon ff #kim namjoon ff #toxic family #harm to health #verbal abuse #emotional abuse #strangers to lovers #slice of life #knj ff #repost #love story #romance

[kitchenscene]

Wrong number au

dispatcher eddie, firefighter buck, they know of each other, but they've never met. eddie gets a text from a wrong number (who turns out to be buck) and instead of being normal about it they start texting back and forth a lot.

Eddie loves his job, he really does. Being a 911 dispatcher means he can help real people every day. A kid breaks their arm. He can send help for that. The neighbors call about a fire in the two story next door. He can send help for that. A father calls because his daughter isn’t breathing, and he can actually do something about it. Eddie can catch people in the worst moment of their lives, and make sure it isn’t the last moment. 

(He knows all too well what it’s like to be stuck in an awful moment.)

The shifts are odd; sometimes it’s sitting at a desk from nine-to-five, and sometimes he leaves for work at two a.m. with a thermos full of poorly made coffee. He works holidays occasionally, but if he works Saint Patrick's Day and Valentine’s then he’s allowed to skip Christmas and stay home to watch Christopher open his presents in the morning. 

There are a fair share of restless nights, thinking about the kids whose last words were said to him over the phone, and the fires that wouldn’t stop burning, and the screams that echo in the space between his skull and his brain. Every dispatcher he’s ever met has said it’s best to leave it at the desk, along with the uniform and the ear piece, but Eddie prefers to carry them. He doesn’t carry them home, but he takes them somewhere better than Los Angeles Metro Dispatch and the desk with too many water stains and tangled cords. 

Eddie loves his job, and he loves the people too. Not the callers, but the team. He’s surrounded by good people who want nothing more than to put some kindness into the world, not just over the phone, but in person too. Linda taught him to bake bread, May sits with him at lunch trying to convince him to come over for dinner because apparently her step-dad makes the best risotto, and Maddie even trusts him on babysitting duty (it only happened once though when her brother left town for the weekend to go camping with his Captain-slash-May’s step-dad. Everyone knows everyone, it seems, except for Eddie, who stays firmly out of the loop).

Eddie loves his job, he really does. But today he sits at his desk and waits for an earthquake. Well. Maybe not an earthquake. A fire would do just fine, and it’s just as probable, at least in California. He’d settle for a car crash, a kitchen emergency, or just about anything that’ll make his phone ring. 

send me a wip title from this list, and i'll tell you about it

#u can have the opener. as a treat #achy breaky heart #texas.docx

[motownfiction]

i trust you

Usually, Eddie hates it when other people try to gift him with new music. Half the time, it’s stuff he already knows; the other half of the time, it’s stuff he already hates. He always accepts it with a smile on his face, of course. He doesn’t want to seem like a snob. But damn, if he can’t help it. You write enough about the history of music; you develop a healthy sense of snobbery.

“Not pretentiousness,” he explains to Sam as they roam the wide aisles at their favorite record store. “Pretentiousness would mean I was faking, and I am not faking. I don’t even know if I’m capable.”

“Oh, I know you’re not capable,” Sam says. “And you know, you don’t have to tell me what pretentiousness means.”

“Sorry. That would be the snobbery.”

“It’s like that. Always needs the last word.”

Eddie laughs a little. He takes a step back and watches Sam almost waltz down the aisle. They’re in the used rock ‘n’ roll section, which feels both funny and apropos. The manager on duty is playing the R.E.M. record from earlier this year (That’s me in the corner …), but Sam, for reasons perhaps he doesn’t even understand, is humming “Still the One.” Eddie laughs again when he notices. Leave it to Sam to hum a soft rock song from fifteen years ago. Like it makes perfect sense. Like everybody should be doing it. He always has the strangest selections stuck in his head. And God, he’s beautiful for it.

Before Sam, Eddie wasn’t sure he could really be in love. Attracted, fine. Infatuated, possibly. He thinks back to his adolescent infatuation with a guitar-playing boy at Holy Cross who had Rob Lowe eyelashes. That was the closest he thought he could ever get to being in love, L-U-V! Thought he was too busy, too nerdy, too smart to have time for anybody. But then, there was Sam. Out of nowhere. Beautiful and out of nowhere. Smarter than Eddie in so many ways (too many ways, sometimes). Impossible to stop talking to. Impossible to stop staring at. In the right light (or darkness), impossible to stop kissing. Sometimes he could smack his old man across the face for being on the outs with Linda for so long. Maybe then he would have met Daniel’s friend Sam sooner. Maybe then he could have known more about love.

Sam turns around and points his finger at Eddie like he’s Harrison Ford in Witness.

“I’m gonna make you a mixtape,” he says.

Eddie chuckles.

“You are?” he asks. “What am I, fifteen? And a girl?”

“Don’t disparage mixtapes. Or fifteen-year-olds. Or girls. All are welcome.”

“If you made me a mixtape, what would you put on it?”

“I would never tell you. That’s the point of the mixtape. The surprise of it all. That you don’t know until it’s in your hands.”

“But you know it’s all gonna be music I already know. We checked out our record collections. With the exception of my Moby Grape and your weird 45 of some German guy narrating Rumplestiltskin, we had almost 100% overlap.”

Sam shakes his head like he’s been sitting on this for a while. Knowing Sam, he probably has. He has all these theories based on clever anecdotes and questions he writes down in the margins of his books. It would kill him to hear it, but Eddie knows he’d make a damn fine doctoral student.

“It’s not the point of the mixtape to introduce the listener to something new,” Sam says. “It’s the point of the mixtape for the listener to know what songs make the mixtaper think of them.”

“Are you trying to convince me that mixtaper is a word?”

“I’m trying to convince you it should be.”

Eddie laughs again. Sam’s too good at that. Even when he wants to buckle down and be serious, there’s just something about him. It’s like if Peter Pan spent every other year in London, or if Tinkerbell was in a better mood all the time. He’s beautiful for it.

“I’m serious,” Sam says, almost digging his shoes into the floor. “I’m gonna make you a mixtape. As soon as I get home. And you’re gonna like it.”

Eddie smiles. If he thought he could get away with kissing Sam in the middle of a music store on a Saturday afternoon, he would. Instead, he makes a note to do it as soon as they get back into the car. He looks at him and lets his smile grow into a grin.

“I trust you,” he says.

It’s incredible, Eddie thinks, to know it’s the truth.

#drabble #ch: eddie costa #ch: sam doyle #ship: brown-eyed handsome man #year: 1991

[halaraxno]

"Progressive women, wanting lightness, comfort, and ease of motion joined the "rational dress movement" and formed a society that protested against tightly fitted corsets and heavily weighted skirts... As women doctors began practicing medicine, they recognized all the unhealthy effects of irrational fashions and we're especially convinced that corsets could cause a displaced or prolapsed uterus, atrophy if abdominal muscles, damage to the liver, displacement of the stomach and intestines, and construction of the chest and ribs."

"the the president of the United States Grover Cleveland, to distrust and denounce the popular women's club movement that sometimes fostered these discussions. "These [women's club] are harmful in the way that directly menaces the integrity of our homes and the benign disposition and character of our women's wifehood and motherhood." the President insisted. "I believe that it should be boldly declared that the best and safest club for women to patronize is her home."

These were lines on pg121 from a current book I'm reading called Bold Spirit by Linda Lawrence Hunt about a true story on Helga Estby amazing journey of walk across America during 1890s. As she did that in limited time also had to advertise shorter dresses by wearing it with her daughter Clara across United States to win 10,000 bucks. This story is amazing, now I'm not one to really read books on history but I'm glad I did, this book teach me on some parts of what women had to go thru back then and her amazing journey. Im still in the middle of reading the book but I can't wait to finish it to see how her story ends and I suggest y'all read the book too!

It's amazing looking back on how they treated not only women's fashion style but also there lifestyle to now that women can dress how they want and get to work in office, ofc they are lots more problems in the world including all genders, at least this beautiful movement was successful and hope others will be to in the future.

#women #womenhistory #womenrights #humanrights #history #historybooks #books #historybook #tumblr #tumblrpost #life #womenlife #book #book recommendations #book review #book quotes #quotes