#Present Store

[aclue-aclue]

Early neighborhood sketches from Blue's Clues & You! by Electric Pencil Productions.

[corrodedcoughin]

Wayne coming home after a night shift to see a monopoly board with a piece of paper over the top ‘DO NOT TOUCH. IMPORTANT EVIDENCE FOR ARGUMENT >:(‘ in a familiar hand writing. He also sees a mop of hair poking out of a blanket on the floor, soft snores whispering though the trailer.

Still barely in the front door, Wayne sighs to himself, starts to make his way to the bathroom but stops when the hall light lets a diffused glow in to the living room area. And there stands Steve Harrginton wrapped in a blanket, gives a soft ‘sorry wayne, we’re just going’. Wayne sets off to the bathroom again, g smiles when he hears the whispered conversation

‘Wh-? Steve? You still angry?’

‘Yeah, but I can’t sleep with you out here. Come on’

‘Okay’

He hears the soft footsteps retreating to Eddie’s room and knows the silly fight will blow up in the morning and just hopes he can sleep through the theatrics. He’s going to burn that board game. Or hide it at least

[secretsimpleness]

Fan service.

Shepard (custom), Liara / Mass Effect (c) Bioware

[lazycranberrydoodles]

wei wuxian really put his whole pussy into the donghua yiling patriarch reveal huh

[cinna-bunnie]

> all i want for christmas plays overhead but it's not mariah carey

> “please enter your phone number”

> a cacophony of beeps from everyone scanning their own items

> “please place your item. into the bag” *not bagging anything*

> only two volume options are full blast and less loud

> card reader beeping loudly as it fails to read 3 times before it lets you swipe it

> all of this happening constantly on all of the machines too so their noises overlap with each other

SHUT!!! UP!!!!!!

[fieriframes]

[Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don't plan it. Don't wait for it. Just let it happen. It could be a new shirt at the store a catnap in your office chair or two cups of good, hot black coffee.]

[formosusiniquis]

intrada (sugar plum holly and her cavalier)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington & Holly Wheeler; Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler WC: 5708 | G | Tags/Themes: ballet, references to The Nutcracker, pre-relationship steddie, good babysitter Steve Harrington AO3

It was supposed to be a date that would merge their interests, something that had seemed classy enough for Nancy and athletic enough that Steve thought it would keep his interest. Supposed to be, in that when Steve had gotten the tickets -- begged his mom first for her and his dad’s season ticket seats and then for help finding a good seat when she said she wasn’t about to waste a sixty dollar ticket on a date -- he wasn’t even sure if it was the kind of thing Nancy would like. A year and a half into their relationship and he was only just realizing how surface level their conversations were, either talking about work or treating every conversation like an interview and parceling out information like they were afraid to reveal too much about themselves. So he was really working off of a jewelry box he vaguely remembered from her bedroom when he bought tickets for a ballet that wouldn’t even happen for another five months.

He wanted to have them when she got to Indianapolis, something to look forward to for their first Christmas together in the city. The Nutcracker, a classic supposedly but if anyone would know its cultural significance he figured it would be Nance.

And Steve isn’t an idiot, okay. He knows that Nancy isn’t exactly thrilled to be in Indianapolis, knows that she’s not happy to be at her safety school and not Emerson. Imagines having to wait to see if she made it up the waitlist all summer wasn’t the greatest experience; and he has to imagine because any time he wanted to talk to her about it she blew him off to focus on alternatives and next steps.

That’s why he does it. Hopes that having something to look forward to at the end of her first semester will help. Hopes that this is the first of many Christmases together, maybe a tradition that they can keep up. Going to the ballet together every year until eventually they’re bringing their daughter along with them. Maybe it’s too early to think about kids, but this is the kind of future he prefers to imagine over future careers and what he’s going to do with the degree he’s stumbling his way through. So he thinks about Nancy with pinned back curls in a nice dress humming along to songs they hear every year.

It was supposed to be that. Until it turns out that their relationship really couldn’t withstand being in the same city as one another. Until he’s forced to confront the hindsight that they never really talked about anything significant in the year they were doing long distance. Until Nancy tells him that she’s transferring next semester, and she isn’t interested in doing long distance; that she isn’t interested in continuing their relationship at all.

So Steve resigns himself to just being out the money for the two tickets. It’s not like he’s going to go to a ballet by himself, and it seems shitty to bring another girl to something that he imagined becoming a staple of his romantic future with Nancy. It’s not the first time Steve has cut his losses. (But he’ll die before he tells his mom she was right about not giving him her good seats.)

He honestly kind of forgets about the whole thing. Finals week has just ended. He’s pretty sure he flunked the one actual business course he took this semester to keep his dad happy, and he’s trying to figure out if he can change his major without screwing his whole life up. He’s ready to have a few weeks off. 

Then Karen Wheeler calls.

Karen is a nice lady, though if he’s honest he’s not that upset that she isn’t going to be his future mother-in-law. She’s a little… flighty, as his mother would say with a backhanded smile. He privately thinks she sometimes forgets that she has three kids, losing track of one or the other at any given time. So maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised when she calls him two months after her daughter broke his heart begging him to take Holly to the ballet.

“Nancy mentioned it off hand months ago, and Holly hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I know it’s a big ask,” she had said in a tone that made it very clear she didn’t entirely care and would think poorly of him if he answered the wrong way, “but if you still have those tickets it would mean the world if you could take Holly.” He hadn’t missed the emphasis on the you either. Clearly Karen had no interest in making the trip to Indianapolis and he hadn’t needed to ask about Ted.

He didn't think of himself as a pushover, but he did think of little, blonde, six year old Holly: too quiet and too shy for her age. Fighting to be seen by a negligent dad and a mom who loves her children, but cares about appearances just enough to be blind. And he finds himself saying, “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Wheeler, but could you meet me somewhere halfway?”

It’s not until they’re settled into their seats -- on the floor but in the back, a booth behind them occupied by a pretty boy in a headset that Steve refuses to look at for too long -- that he realizes that he has no idea what this show is even about. Holly has been quiet since he picked her up, the least surprising thing about this trip right above Mike glaring at him from the passenger seat of Karen’s car as he moved Holly’s booster seat, but she’s studiously flipping through the little booklet the usher handed them on their way to their seats.

“Thank you for bringing me, Steve. I’m sorry Nancy didn’t want to come.” It is somehow simultaneously the longest and worst thing Holly has ever said to him.

“I’d rather see it with you, Holly Jolly.”

He’s saved from having to find anything else to say by the lights around them dimming, a prerecorded voice letting them know that any photography is forbidden and to expect a fifteen minute intermission, a bright and bouncing song picks up once the talking stops. He relaxes in his seat a little, relieved to get a few minutes before he’s expected to entertain a six year old that he’s spent more time with today than he had the entire time he and Nancy had dated.

Now Steve, contrary to what he very much knows is the popular opinion, isn’t just a jock. He knows there’s no talking in ballet. He’s even been to one before this, when he was still a cute novelty in his suit and bowtie accompanying his parents to the theater. What he is, according to his old nanny, every teacher he’s ever had, and about half of his exes, is a selective listener. 

It’s not his fault though that his brain instinctively cues into different sounds. The buzz of the light above him louder -- and more interesting -- than a lesson on factorials. The sound of someone’s relationship imploding hard to tune out no matter how interested he is in his own conversation. So of course the sound of someone talking cuts straight through classical music.

“Someone remind David he needs to smile at his partner, he looks like he’s dreaming of a murder suicide.”

And it wasn’t hard to find exactly who the voice behind him was talking about. The only frowning face at this Victorian party who was glaring daggers at the magician who was bringing in new dancers.

“Well he should know better than to sleep around the cast shouldn’t he, Birdie?”

A practiced reader of body language, Steve could almost see, underneath the choreography, the traces of impropriety. David’s undisguised glare. The wistful way the woman in blue tracked him around the stage. The woman in pink who mooned at the woman in blue. It made him wonder what kind of things were going on backstage.

He expects that to be in. He doesn’t really do theater much, too many memories of pinched arms and snarling trips home, but he does remember the one rule is no talking. But it doesn’t stop, barely slows.

“If Mark sets himself on fire doing this stupid firepaper magic shit do we get to go home early?

“Sure, Robbie Bobby, I’ll swap out for the Rat King last show of the run. Jay can do my job and I’ll do his.

“Five bucks someone slips on the snow as they exit.”

He wants to know if that stranger wins the bet but the curtain closes and Holly is shy and asking Steve where the bathroom is. So instead of working up the nerve to turn and talk to the man behind him, he’s smiling his best mom-charming smile and asking the first woman with kids he finds to take his guest into the girl’s room.

By the time she’s out of line, and Steve buys her the doll and the novelty sucker she’d been pretending she wasn’t looking at, they slip back into their seats as the lights dim again. No chance to make his own witty jokes or observations, break the ice and show off some of the Harrington charm.

The first dance goes by with little fanfare and Steve’s almost disappointed. Holly is wiggling excitedly in her seat next to him, clutching her own little nutcracker, and he’s not even paying attention to the stupid show that’s got her so excited because he’s too focused on a snarky stranger he’d only even looked at once.

“Jeezus christ, is Tom stuffing his dance belt? That’s some Bowie level shit happening up there.”

He had almost given up, so it figures the guy decides to speak up once Steve’s attention started to shift back to the stage. He nearly chokes on his own tongue, eyes darting straight down to the issue in question. Holly, the sweetest kid he’s ever met, pats his back softly, hesitantly, like she’s only seen the gesture before. “There’s a water fountain by the bathroom,” she tells him in a library whisper, “I can stay here and not move.”

“I’m okay Hols,” he lies, ignoring the itchy, squeezing feeling at the back of his throat and forcing the cough away.

It’s easy to do when there's something else to focus on, “No, Lizzie, I’m not going to shut up. No one cares if I’m occupying the channel.” The stranger seems to be gearing himself up for a monologue, “I’m not going to miss my cue, I am the cue. Robin’s not going to miss her cue  because it’s to music. Her cue doesn’t exist without me and she knows all of these songs and what note her cue goes with because it’s the eighth fucking time we’ve done it this week. If you or props have something you’ve got to say clearly you can get a word in edgewise.”

A few numbers go by after that, quiet except for the occasional professional, “Light cue, go.”

And then a song he actually sort of recognizes starts. A pretty strawberry blonde with a dainty smile tip toes and spins across the stage to plucked strings. Holly is enchanted, perched at the edge of her seat she reaches a hand over to clutch at Steve’s sleeve. A ‘tell me someone in the world is experiencing this moment with me’ sort of gesture. Awestruck and world rocked, stars in her eyes. Any resentment, any hard feelings that might have still lingered at babysitting evaporated. He got to be the person that let Holly experience this. A moment just for her, no family to take second place for.

The dancer on stage spins, clearing the floor in a series of tight, controlled rotations. Her arms guiding each step, swinging out and pulling her in, the driving force of her momentum. She’s moving fast, it’s an impressive display. Something shoots off in the opposite direction of that controlled turn, almost distracting in its break from that clean motion.

“Tell Props Chris just lost an earring.

“Fine, tell Wardrobe then.

“I’m not being a creep, I know she’s your girlfriend, Birdie. I merely observed her earring launching across the stage like an arrow from an elven bow.”

It’s like catching half of an Abbott and Costello act, like who’s on first being done through a telephone. It’s a strange sort of connection, listening in on a conversation that isn’t meant for him. He thinks for a sad second that he hasn’t ever had a friendship like this.

The show is wrapping up, dancers from scenes past making their way through for quick appearances. Holly is vibrating in her seat. Dancers in intricate costumes glide across the stage to bow toward the petite dancer in the nightgown and the strawberry blonde, Chris, beside her. A few moments later it's finished, the lights rising up around them and he shifts his primary focus back to Holly. 

In the middle of the room, they had the best view of the stage and the longest wait to leave. Steve tries to be subtle as he shifts Holly in front of him, afraid of losing her if she's out of his eyeline. He doesn't want to baby her by making her hold his hand. She's wiggling in place, but she keeps herself small. Careful not to bump into the people slowly moving out of the aisle in front of them. 

“Hols,” he starts to whisper, not wanting to embarrass her before he asks if she needs to hit the bathroom again.

But she grabs his sleeve in a child's iron grip,  "Steve, I want to meet the princess."

It turns out, it's hard to find a way to tell an excited kid that there aren't meet and greets after a show like this. Pleading blue eyes and a nervous smile looking up at him, desperate but scared to ask for too much. The least he can do is try.

The guy behind them is still there. 

The back of their line, Steve isn't holding anyone up by taking a minute to look. He's lithe, all in black. Hair pulled up in a half-assed bun, a headset tangled in the curls. He's wrapping up a thick cord, Steve couldn't guess why, but it draws focus to a toned arm that he's curling it around.

“Hey man,” the booth is a little bit above them, forcing Steve to rise up on the tips of his own toes to make sure he's visible, “I know you're working but I wanted to ask. The girl at the end- I, uh, I overheard you say she's your friend's girlfriend is there anyway you could convince her to come meet us.”

The guy startled a bit, probably surprised at being addressed. If he’s embarrassed at being overheard it barely shows a soft flush that could be from the warmth of the room. "The girl at the end?”

"The princess,” Holly shouts, bouncing up and down to try to see over the lip that blocks her view of the booth.

A change falls over the guy, his smile softens and eyes widen. He carefully drapes himself across the board of buttons and sliders to look Holly in the eyes. "Oh she's even better than a princess, she's a fairy. The sugar plum fairy. Is this your first time seeing the show with your dad?”

“Steve's not my dad.” She tells him with a little giggle, no doubt comparing Steve and Ted in her brain.

“Holly is my ex-girlfriend’s little sister.” He places his emphasis carefully.

“There’s a lot happening in that sentence.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, my Lady Holly, I bet I could convince Chrissy to meet a fan.” He promises with a flourish, “As long as your companion doesn't care that her faithful company will definitely be there the whole time.”

“Are you part of the group?” Steve asks, confident enough in his read of the situation to lay on a bit of charm. Letting his eyes trail down the sprawl of the guy's back. A thrill of victory at the little nod he gets back. “Then I won't mind at all.”

“Rockin’ Robin, tell me you still have your headset on?” He directs into his headset, “Great, remember that favor you and Chris owe me? I've got a fair princess who would like to meet our dear Sugar Plum Fairy.”

There's a lengthy pause. Even without the music playing the response is too quiet to be made out through his headset. “I don't see how that's relevant.” He hisses, “and she didn't ask to see an awful hag so you don't really even need to be there.”

His face clears after a second, looking to Steve like he wants them both to pretend that the earlier conversation hadn't been overheard. “Go through that door at the end of the front row right beside the stage.” The auditorium has cleared out enough he's got a clear view of the door the guy points to. “You'll end up in a hallway with a locked door at the end, wait there.”

“And if someone asks us why we're waiting there?” Steve asks, “I can tell them..?”

“Eddie, I'm- I Eddie Munson told you to wait there, if someone stops you before I get there.”

It's hard not to grin now that he has a name, Eddie, so he doesn’t bother. He puts on his best smile, the boyish and winsome one that always flusters whoever it's directed at, at least a little. Eddie is no exception looking back down at his work quickly. Steve takes a little pity, turning his attention back down to Holly.

She's twisting in place, hands clasped in front of her, as she stares off into space. He feels bad immediately, too familiar with what it's like to be a kid forced to entertain yourself while adults talk above your head.“C’mon, Holly Jolly, let's go wait for your fairy.” 

She takes his hand the second it's offered, swinging it back and forth, humming one of the songs from the show. “Steve, do you think she's a fairy like Tinkerbell or a fairy princess like Barbie?”

“I don't know Hols, what do you think?”

“Tinkerbell is kinda mean to Wendy, but she can do magic and fly. But Barbie is really nice so if she were a fairy she'd be a fairy princess and have a crown and help people.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes! And this fairy looked nice when she was dancing, but it didn't look like she had a crown. Can you be a fairy princess without a crown?”

Holly was buzzing, bouncing in place, clearly over whatever earlier nerves she'd had about talking to him. With her back to the door that they were told to wait by, she’s started listing all the different jobs Barbie has had and why they should make a fairy princess doll -- Karen’s homemade Barbie clothes, he learns, are not as well made as the hand me downs from Erica and Mrs. Sinclair, so she needs the real thing. Holly misses the way the door creaks open, the woman from onstage inching her way out of the half opened exit. 

Chrissy presses a finger to her lips, happy to help her surprise Holly, Steve keeps listening to her talk about why there should be a Barbie movie. He only nearly ruins the surprise when the dancer pushes down on the front of her saucer like skirt and it smacks her in the back as it flies up, letting her exit the back room.

Focused on her story, Holly doesn’t notice as the woman crouches down beside her. Not until she says, “This must be the princess I was told about.”

The screech she lets out is so joyful he almost doesn’t mind that his ears are ringing. Steve finds his smile mirrored on a freckle-faced girl dressed in the same all black as Eddie who is sliding out the door now as well. She sidles up to Steve, letting Holly have her moment with the fairy uninterrupted. “And you must be the prince charming.”

“Shut up, shut up,” Eddie pants, coming to a bent over rest beside Steve, “whatever she’s saying ignore it. Fuck.”

“You jogged like twenty feet,” the girl says, clearly unimpressed.

“Sorry Nancy Reagan, I say yes every time.”

“There are children present, have some class, Munson.”

The child in question could be on another planet, that’s how much she’s aware of their existence, Steve thinks.

“I have class every Monday, Wednesday, Friday; Saturdays are fair game.”

“Oh! That’s why you look so familiar,” the girl says, she’s looking at Steve now but he’s not really sure why. “We were in the same Communications and Public Speaking class, Prince Charming. Steve, right?”

He did have that class last semester, the only one technically tied to the business major his dad wanted him to have that he actually passed. “I, yes- sorry I don’t. I spent most of that class zoned out waiting for my turn to speak.”

“No, yeah, I figured. You sat a row in front of me and always looked shocked when you got called on, then you’d brush your bagel crumbs all over the floor when you’d go to speak.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not really sure what to say to that especially not when it’s being said right in front of a guy he was kind of into.

“Birdie holds the strangest grudges in the history of the world, take it as a sign of respect, Big Boy. She hated me for half of our music theory class because my handwriting didn’t look like it matched my general demeanor.”

“No, I hated you because you always smell like weed and never do the homework but somehow are still the professor’s favorite. And I still hate you for all of those things, but your unfortunate personality grew like mold on my girl- I mean grew on,” her face takes on a look of panic as she pivots her word choice. It’s confusing, at first, until he realizes he’s the source of panic. A familiar joke made with a friend, forgetting the new, possibly untrustworthy stranger until too late.

The siren song of new friends and a possible date is alluring, but with Holly in the room he does have to be careful of what gets back to her parents. He remembers Ted’s political alignments and gossip tends to reach his parents faster than he can. So he does his best at assurance, “Chrissy, right, she seems cool. It was nice of you guys to do this, Holly is probably only a little bit more into fairies than I am.”

Eddie sputters beside him, hard to tell if it’s a good sign or if Steve has just royally fucked up his chances at anything; but if it means easing Robin’s fears of queerbashing he’ll ruin his chance for a date every time.

“Into fairies,” Robin asks, nodding over to Chrissy, who’s showing Holly how she balances on the tips of her toes, “or…”

“I’m light in my loafers, or half, light in one-”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Eddie supplies.

“Right.”

“Worst way anyone has ever described being bisexual,” Robin says. 

“Sounds like a challenge,” Eddie says.

“It was not.”

“I really appreciate this,” Steve says again to avoid the argument. Chrissy is helping Holly spin around on the toes of her patent leather mary janes, she’s giggling as Chrissy holds her pointed finger helping her twirl and twirl. “How’d you all get involved in all this? You’re still in school.”

“They always need a little help around the holidays, normally the theater kids get first dibs but there’s only like five tech kids and they’re all working the school show so the music department gets next go.” Robin explains.

“Chis is a prodigy so she put in a word for us specifically,” Eddie adds. Before he leers and leans deep into Steve’s space, it’s not an unwelcome move. “Unless that was you fishing for friends, Big Boy. Trying to figure out if you’ll see us on campus?”

“Oh,” Robin exclaims, like the thought had never occurred to her. “Are you finished with your gen eds? Wait, what's your major? Eddie, show off your party trick.”

He isn’t a total loser, so he doesn’t fidget or blush as Eddie runs his heady brown eyes up and down the length of him, taking him in. “Business and Marketing,” he declares after a second, but he doesn’t sound sold on it.

“I’ve been thinking about changing it,” Steve isn’t sure if he’s admitting Eddie’s right or just trying out what it sounds like to admit that he’s sick of being everything he’s supposed to be instead of what he likes. “I took Children’s Psychology for the whatever requirement and it was a million times more interesting than Intro to Econ.”

It feels like it’s going well. When Nancy broke things off Steve had resigned himself to finishing out college without any real friends, dating around and hoping for something that stuck. Here with these people, he can feel something starting. He wants to take that feeling and capitalize on it, follow through on something so another good thing doesn’t slip away from him.

That’s not the kind of luck that he has though. 

“Steve,” Holly buzzes, grabbing his hand with no hesitation, “Fairy Chrissy said that I can be a dancer too! Can Santa bring me shoes like hers?”

Christmas is a week away, if Stever were guessing, he’d say the Wheelers have had Holly’s presents picked out and put away for most of the month. “I don’t know, Hols, Christmas is pretty close and the North Pole is pretty far. Do you think the mailman would have time to get all the way up there?”

Her shoulders slump, making Steve immediately feel like the worst person in the universe for crushing her dreams. “He's watching though, so I bet he saw you ask right now,” he does his best to smile, hoping it's comforting since it feels tight-lipped and desperate.

“Yeah!” She brightens, starts to hum along to the song just a little off pitch, getting more excited as she goes until she's murmuring, “Knows if you've been bad or good.”

“Hey Holly Jolly, why don't you tell Fairy Chrissy bye and thank you. We don't wanna be late to meet your mom.”

She's still singing but she nods, turning and shuffling back to Chrissy, still a few steps away.

“Would she know where to get those, Chrissy, the shoes that Holly would need?” He asks Eddie and Robin in a whisper, hoping Holly is distracted enough by her goodbyes that she won't hear.

“Are you..?” Eddie asks, a blush staining the tops of his exposed ears. “Ex-girlfriend?” 

The emphasis catches his attention and, yeah, he can see how that looks. “Her parents aren't going to drive up to the city before Christmas, but the town over does lessons.” Barriers to entry, that's what his marketing classes called it, maybe he did learn something. He wants to make it as easy as possible for Holly to get what she wants. “She's a good kid, she should get what she wants for Christmas.”

That blush spreads, bleeding down from his ears across his cheeks. “You're a good dude.”

“Steve, I said bye. Do we have to leave now?” Holly asks.

“Let me say bye too, Hols, and we'll grab a treat before we meet your Mom.”

There's a pen tucked behind Robin's ear that he snags before he can second guess what he's about to do. Grabbing her arm first, he scrawls his number across it. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates if you ever want someplace to hangout or to study,” he tells her. 

He grabs Eddie's hand next, rubbing his thumb along the palm and slowly writing the same number on his arm too. Keeping a hold of his hand for as long as he can. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates, if you ever want to come by and do something, have dinner?” He'll start there, let his interest be noted, and hope that Eddie is the type to like guys who dive in head first heedless of the water below. 

Steve can already imagine a future where he's sneaking into the booth with Eddie. Watching shows he's never heard of before with a warm commentary murmured into his ear. Gossip and behind the scenes rumor, distracting him from a plot that's less important than the company. Maybe next year, after double dates and a growing closeness, he'll be able to sneak Holly backstage and she can meet other dancers too.

Maybe next year, he'll be convincing Eddie, and the girls he hopes will be his new friends, to drive down to Hawkins with him to watch Holly do jumps and spins of her own in their small town showcase. Eddie was good with Holly, Steve hopes it isn't a fluke, he's always wanted kids.

He's probably getting ahead of himself. Falling into the same trap he'd built with Nancy that had gotten him here in the first place. The romantic in him wants to spin this all as fate, it could be true after all. 

Steve takes Holly's hand, they both wave goodbye, and leave the empty arts center. The winter sky is lit up by a full moon, fat snowflakes slowly float down to the ground beside them as they head back to his car, and for the first time since Nancy broke up with him he feels good about the future.

It's a long drive back to the McDonalds where he's meeting Karen, with Holly already dozing in the back seat, it's time that he can sit and be happy. Regardless of whether there's a message blinking on his machine to welcome him back home or not; what was supposed to be a relationship compromise ended up being the most fun he's had in weeks. So maybe Chrissy will tell him where to get Holly's shoes, maybe Robin will invite him for coffee or swing by to compare classes, and -- if he's really lucky -- maybe Eddie will invite himself over for dinner.

But, as he hums along to the waltz whose melody lingers in the back of his mind, the possibilities are something to look forward to.

[bamsara]

I was gonna post a lot of screenshots of what I have to organize but I realized that was going to be an incredably long post so please have a look at the chaos that is my laptop and my vow to organize and sort today. Unposted Art might be recovered

please for the love of life let my ADHD allow me to get through this task

[perpetuallypottytraining]

A little in training pants who promises they won't go potty in their pants, but they get caught up in looking at the toy aisle at Target. The only way they know what's happening is their big saying "oh look at you :(" while running over as they get overwhelmed with an uh-oh feeling. Now they gotta go change, and that's strike one on big-boy/girl pants.

oh no!! poor little, it's not their fault that there are such interesting toys in Target! there's just so many interesting toys nowadays, with new, interesting gimmicks and features!! or even just extraordinarily soft stuffies!! there's just so many toys that can distract a little for a bit too long...

luckily for their cg, whether or not they have a diaper bag with a change of clothes, they're in a Target! at most Targets I've been to, the pharmacy and the accompanying family bathroom/extra large single toilet bathroom, tend to be not too far from the toy aisle!

sure, they'll have to pass by a pharmacist to get to the bathroom, but a good CG knows that it's important to get things cleaned up right away - their little can wait a moment while they tell the pharmacy tech that there's been a "little spill" in the toy aisle! ... even if that person has to then radio a custodian to get to the spill

and if the CG has a change of clothes, then it's smooth sailing, as the accompanying sink makes clean-ups a lot faster! but if the CG has to make a quick run around the store to pick up any necessary clothes, maybe even some protection for their leaky little, I'm sure that the little can wait patiently for CG's special knock to open the door again

and if they're too little and teary-eyed to wait by themselves, well, it's not the end of the world if they have to hide their face in their CG's shoulder as they walk around the store with a tell-tale stain on their legs until they get to the check out...

[aclue-aclue]

Honestly we need an episode that takes place in the New York City Present Store. The aesthetic is so cool, and I would like to see some other staff because let's be honest, Joe can't work on three (four with the North Pole) at the same time.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

If Howdy and Barnaby ever married, would Howdy wear a ring on only lne hand or get 4 rings for all of his 4 hands? This came to mind so ramdomly aBSJZNSJDN I'm sorry 😭😭

i've been thinking that he'd have two rings for both of his left hands

[geareduptom]

This is not my secret santa but it is a gift for @onecupofsugar

My eye is doin a bit better ^^ So I decided to press through and get this piece done <3 Happy holidays~

[vasito-de-leche]

Hello. I saw you wrote about the 1999 reverses, can I request something Druvis III romantic with the readers? The way she reacts to lovingly treat her lover at night.

Hope you see my request. Have a good night

;R1999 DRUVIS III - "your favorite flower"

Druvis III x Reader. 800~ words. fluff During the day, she stands as the embodiment of elegance: tall and poised, unwavering under the sun. At night, she takes root by your side, seeking your warmth.

ty for your request! not sure if this is what you were looking for, but I hope you like it either way <3

Long, tangled curls tickle your face, your neck, your arms.

The copper ends of her hair brush against your skin like soft petals, until you're engulfed by her. In here, it smells like cedar, tuberose and amber. It smells like home. A wild strand falls over your eyes, another over your nose.

Your attempt to free yourself only make things worse, but then you hear her laugh. Druvis pulls back just enough to save you from suffocating and you're free to admire the sunset hues of her hair─red tips turning orange, until they finally fade into a light blonde. Her deep, emerald gaze meets you halfway at the same time her hands find yours, fingers interlocked.

And she smiles. The Sun itself looms above you, and then leans down from the stars to kiss the space between your eyebrows.

Over the years, Druvis has shown you her favorite flowers, her favorite trees. She's taken you to the most wonderful sights amidst a sea of green, from the high view atop a hill to the small, budding flowers and the patches of moss on rough bark. You remember the feeling of your bare feet against the moist dirt, the dim light of dawn and her hand in yours, guiding you to cross shallow, clear rivers. To run with her through lush flower fields and to climb or rest under the shade of massive trees on hot days.

But none of this can ever compare to her.

It almost feels sacrilegious to think about that time in the distant past when all you saw in her was a cold, aloof sort of beauty, a look of indifference cast upon the world, as opposed to the lively fire that burns within her. But that was back when you only knew of her family name. Now, you understand her better than most. Druvis isn't the sort of person who hides behind ambiguity or misleading words, she prefers to let her actions speak for her.

When it's time to show you the depth of her affections, she almost never outright says it─she shows you instead.

Sometimes, she looks at you with that adoring expression, one that makes you melt on the spot. Sometimes, she asks that you braid her hair or that you read something with her late at night before it's time to sleep. Sometimes, she takes you to see the blooming flowers within the suitcase. She lets you into her world, allowing you to read her like an open book.

Those eyes are all you need to see to know what goes within her mind, and right now you can tell she's happy. So very happy.

"Did something good happen today?" You murmur into her hair as she buries her head in the crook of your neck, taking in a deep breath. It tickles, and she must have realized because she plants a gentle apology kiss on your shoulder right after.

"Not particularly," the reply is short, like an afterthought or a preamble to the content sight that escapes Druvis.

"Just wondering. You're awfully cuddly tonight."

There's a pause.

"... Does it bother you?"

There is no visible change to her tone nor behaviour, but you notice the way she stops and freezes in place, breathlessly waiting for your reply. Oh no, absolutely not. Before her thoughts can even linger on that possibility, you shift positions─instead of laying on top of you, now she lays by your side─and you move the hair away from her lovely face. There is uncertainty in her eyes, it breaks your heart to see it.

You love her, and the quiet strength she holds. You love her, and the way she cares so deeply about the world. You love her, and you love seeing her happy. You love her, and you lack the words to let her know, and so you decide to show her.

You lean in to kiss her as sweetly as the morning drew kisses the earth in the early morning. Her arms wrap around your waist, caressing your back. This moment could've lasted for all eternity, with your mouth on hers, parting only to whisper sweet nothings and words of reassurance, but the moment Druvis reciprocates the kiss with as much fervor as she can muster, her hair follows.

And oh, God. It tickles so bad.

"Hm? W-wait, wait-!" You're interrupted over and over by her lips, and it's only when you start chuckling and laughing that she opens her eyes and stops.

"Sorry! It's just─pfft! It got to my neck, sorry! Ahh, that really ruined the moment, right? Just when I thought I could look cool in front of you for once ..."

Druvis silently watches as you sit up, shaking off that tingling and ticklish sensation. And just when you're about to apologize one more time, you feel her lips on the nape of your neck. This time, there's no need to turn around and look into her eyes to know just how smitten and endeared she is by you. You just hope she doesn't comment on how red the tips of your ears must be by now.

"It's okay, love. You can try again, and again. As many times as you'd like."

[corviiids]

(inspired by your earlier post about if L accused Sayu of being Kira) How do you think an au where Sayu got the death note would play out?

amazing question. i wrote so much more than i thought i was going to im so sorry. tl;dr i don't think the ultimate plot would change much but the beginning would sure be interesting.

i think if sayu found the death note, she would tell light before anyone else. he's clearly her most trusted confidant. light would tell her not to worry because it's clearly some chain letter shit but because she's clearly frightened of it he'd offer to hold it for her and get rid of it so she doesn't have to think about it.

now whether ownership officially passes to light at this point might depend on the specific wording they use. if light says 'hold onto it for you' or something to that effect it would likely just be sublet to light (wording from rule 13) - for our purposes im inclined to go with this version of events but i note the rules are really ambiguous on what the specific requirements and conditions are regarding ownership.

(i keep wanting to go through and do a full review of all the manga rules from like. almost like a statutory interpretation kind of lens but that's a stupid project i need to convince myself out of lmfao jesus)

hey this got really long and complicated. i thought it was going to be simple but now im going through branching possibilities literally for the sole purpose of analysing the rules so let's put the rest under the cut. click for me citing specific death note rules in the middle of my work day i guess GOD. you can also scroll to the bottom if you want to skip me talking about death note rules and just see my projected course of events

the issue of ownership actually doesn't matter that much at this point for reasons we will see but might change things a little bit down the road (see below re: ryuk and discussion of rule 47). let's go with the sublet thing for now and assume sayu is still the owner of the notebook but light is holding it.

light keeps the book, sayu tries not to think about it and fails. light can't resist testing it without sayu's knowledge. light meets ryuk. i note rule 13 states the death god will stay with the owner of the note. since light and sayu are in the same household (ie geographic distance is not an issue) and ryuk would find light more interesting, it's a coin flip which person he'd show up to (probably depends on the degree to which shinigami are bound by their rules which i don't have access to and can't review lol). let's assume for now that ryuk meets light first just for ease, but i will come back to this later because i actually prefer him showing up to sayu first while light is holding the notebook.

in the version where light meets ryuk first, then depending how forthcoming ryuk is with information, either sayu sees ryuk before light realises that's a risk or light realises sayu will see ryuk before she actually does. im leaning towards the latter because in canon light finds out in this order:

people who don't have the note can't see ryuk (when his mother comes into the room during their first meeting)

people who have touched the note CAN see ryuk (when sayu comes into the room asking for help with homework some days later)

so in this au, between events 1 and 2, light would realise that since sayu has touched and owns the note, she'll be able to see ryuk. i think light at this point would ask ryuk if there's any way to undo that effect at which point ryuk should inform light that forfeiting the note will allow sayu to stop seeing ryuk.

ok, now let's backtrack to before and say instead of light, ryuk shows up to sayu first. ryuk appears, sayu screams, ryuk informs sayu that light has used the note. light comes running because sayu screamed. light again in this timeline immediately demands to know how to get sayu out of this situation, partially because she's freaking out and partially because he's already pondering the possibilities and absolutely needs sayu not to know about any of this. she is already hysterical because hey, did this monster just say that her big brother killed someone?

ok here's where i got into a rabbithole digging through the rules for a loophole because i found a problem. (it's ok, i found one.)

we know a death note can pass from person to person because it happens in canon multiple times. we also know that losing the death note will erase your memory of the note (rule 22). where it gets interesting is that rule 47 provides that you will only lose your memories of the death note if you actually used it:

[...] You will not lose memory of the Death Note, for example, if you merely owned it and had not written anyone's name. [...]

you won't be able to see the shinigami anymore, but you'll still remember the notebook. not good enough for light - he needs sayu to forget completely or she'll be traumatised and he'll be compromised, especially because now she knows he used the notebook which makes her a liability. light now has two thoughts

he could ask sayu to kill one person using the notebook and then forfeit it so she doesn't remember the crime and can be free of the notebook forever, or

see if the shinigami can offer any other options.

1 is an interesting place for light's mind to go, but he goes with option 2 first because sayu looks like she's going to have a panic attack. luckily, there is another option, and we know ryuk is aware of it because of the events of the a-Kira story - this is lucky because even if a rule existed there's no guarantee that the shinigami know about it as ryuk demonstrates multiple times. (they also don't need to tell their human any of the rules at all - rule 4.) lmao. anyway im talking about rule 67:

Regarding the memories mentioned in Rule XLVII, the owner can have their memories of the Death Note erased if they so desire.

(well, it's more like 67.1, because there are three completely unrelated sub-rules in this rule. kind of justified because we know rule 67 was a last-minute amendment but seriously who fucking drafted these rules in the shinigami world i'd like a word)

under rule 67, sayu could forfeit the death note and willingly have her memories erased without needing to kill anyone. light asks sayu to do this and promises he won't kill anyone else with the book and that he'll burn it as soon as she's forfeited her memories.

sayu trusts light so much that she does not ask why he doesn't just burn it now. she forfeits the book and forgets the death note ever existed.

i think from that point everything else goes the same way it does in canon.

tl;dr, again - my projected course of events, preferencing the branches i personally find most likely:

sayu finds the death note

sayu tells light about it

sayu sublets the death note to light, remaining the note's official owner

light tests the death note without sayu's knowledge

ryuk shows up to sayu and informs her that light has used the death note

light joins the conversation and demands to know whether sayu can be rid of the notebook

ryuk informs them sayu can forfeit the notebook and will no longer see ryuk, then states anyone who's killed with the notebook would lose all memory of it once they had done so

light correctly infers that by default, your memory will remain unless you have killed with the notebook.

light realises he needs sayu to lose ALL her memories of the notebook, both for her mental health and because she knows he's killed someone with the notebook and is a liability

light briefly considers asking sayu to use the notebook once before forfeiting it

light dismisses this as an option

light asks ryuk if there are any other options

ryuk reluctantly informs light that yes he can erase sayu's memories of the notebook if she willingly chooses it

light convinces sayu to give up her memories and the notebook and promises he will destroy it

sayu trusts light and doesn't push him to destroy the book in front of her

sayu gives up the notebook and her memories

light becomes owner of the death note

story proceeds per canon

[wren-writes-things]

I’m convinced that an Amphibia HTTYD AU would be Sasharcy centric.

[fieriframes]

[Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don't plan it. Don't wait for it. Just let it happen. It could be a new shirt at the store a catnap in your office chair or two cups of good, hot black coffee.]