#lovely snoopy's summer

[jukeboxofjellycat]

[flopbftheo]

anyone who says that materialistic things don't bring you happiness LIES

[snoopyncathy]

September 12, 2024

It’s been very busy these days, but we wanted to check in and say hello! Happy Friday Jr ❤️

[bth3cowboi]

snoop the bling, cs55xreader

part 1 part 3 part 4

masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: summer break starts and that means traveling with a snoopy plushie and a boyfriend (or maybe a future husband). Also, his friend is there.

format: social media au

a/n: people asked for this and I deliver cause i love snoopy

( instagram )

ynraces 17h

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 1.333.561 others

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, ynraces and 786.566 others

carlossainz55 Best way to spend summer😎☀️

tagged ynraces;

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user1 here before yn calls carlos his sweet baby or smh cute like that

ynraces SLUT

user1 oh that is not it

ynraces 🤤🔥I love u my unemployed princess

carlossainz55 I dont know what to think about this

carlossainz55 but I love you too😂

user2 WHERE IS THE CHILD, THE BABY

ynraces hes safe ashore!!

user3 wait im new, they have a baby??

user4 no😭😭 they call yn’s snoopy their baby

ynraces

liked by carlossainz, f1 and 808.445 others

ynraces Mallorca with my baby love💙🤿 (and carlos is here too)

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user1 thank you for the blessing (carlos photo)

user2 theres a snoopy, theres a like

user3 a snoopy is always gonna be there🙄 this is yn’s page

landonorris Enjoy your alone time for now😈

ynraces im expecting you with HATE btw dont come

landonorris I’ll be there soon and he’ll be with me😍🤞

ynraces youre sick!! homewrecker!!!

landonorris girl fuck your baby snoopy

ynraces BRO??? carlos say sum😭😭

carlossainz55 Please don’t fight in the comments❤️ you have the vacation for that

ynraces 🤡

user4 that snoopy deserves some rest god

carlossainz55 2h

liked by landonorris and 900.343 others

replies

landonorris

Oh she really doesn’t have a clue

carlossainz55

No😂

I didn’t insist either

Don’t want her to get suspicious

landonorris

I can’t wait to take the pictures now HAHA

Everything is ready btw just waiting for you both

carlossainz55

Ok👍

liked by landonorris

carlossainz55

liked by scuderiaferrari, ynraces and 1.455.320 others

carlossainz55 She said yes! ❤️💍 Thank you Yn for being the woman you are, I can’t wait to call you my wife. I love you more than anything in this world.

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ynraces 🥹🥹 Love you soooo much

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

user1 OMG OMG

user2 chat is this real??

user3 now thats a rockkkkk

charles_leclerc Congratulations guys😍❤️

carlossainz55 Thanks mate!

user4 imagine driving in f1 with your wife THE DREAM

landonorris Wow what a beautiful ring🤩 The friend that helped chose it must be the best

carlossainz55 🤫

ynraces u did great for once congrats

landonorris 🤩🤩

user5 Carlos must be crying and jumping seeing this interaction

user6 his wife and his boy lmao

ynraces

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 2.445.678 others

ynraces swipe for a surprise!🪐

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ynraces pinned Te amo mucho, Carlos. ❤️ You are my everything.

carlossainz55 Te amo tambien😁

user1 IS THIS HOW I FIND OUT?

user2 me 2 😭 I wish I saw Carlos post first

user3 wym I cant marry Yn anymore

user4 Ohhh are we going to see two sainz in the grid now

lewishamilton Congrats you two🫶

ynraces thank u lew!

user5 I was worried Snoopy wasn’t gonna be here but Yn delivered as always

landonorris Cool photos👍 Call me for the wedding too

ynraces I dont want you crying at the wedding too iugh

landonorris those were happy tears💔

( twitter )

——

a/n: The snoopy story continuous!! if you liked it and want to see more just say so🩷 my asks are open!!

[angsthology]

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

the misadventures of being the only female f1 driver through the eyes of the grid’s renowned snoopy-loving kangaroo

mostly thank u to @sebscore and @disneyprincemuke for the idea of fem!driver on the grid (i love both of them by them please check it out)

anyway! these are mostly from random spurts of thought i have along with memories of my toddler self who wanted to be race car driver! (did not in fact become one btw. im somehow becoming a law student instead). i also try to not use any y/n (which so far i have succeeded in, hopefully, hehe) and psa, she is often implied as a non-european. (well more on how i write her cause i write what i know)

also, apologies in advance, this is going to have a LOT of projecting <3

talk to meee!!1! (or maybe request just whatever)

tag << everything rvstw (asks, brainrots, & more!!)

ABOUT THE DRIVER

☆ introduction

a little intro into our driver and the likes of her (hcs)

☆ re-intro

idk car stuff and some designs

☆ more

just random stuff about her

☆ behind the driver

behind every little gremlin is a group of tired adults

ROOKIE ERA (2022)

☆ the origin story

the journey of when what and whys of our driver

☆ the kangaroo!

the story of how she got the nickname “roo”

☆ the gig

she’s... in a band?

☆ the presence

roo has been acting a little too quiet and when the drivers take notice of it they had to ask

☆ the figure

it started as an accident, ended with family

☆ the dye

who told him this was a good idea?

☆ the m problem

so... we need to talk about roo?

OH, WELL, THE MORE YOU KNOW! (2023)

☆ the rise

lets get the year started, yeah?

☆ the button (–2024)

it went from that to this

NEW YEAR, NEW ME (2024)

☆ the shoot

welcome to 2024! who is this person...

☆ the streak

she is posessed by the demon (her real self)

HOLIDAY HURRAHS (from summer break to winter breaks)

☆ secret santa

the process of how the 2023 secret santa went

☆ beach day

spending the day at the beach with a large group of f1 drivers may seem like a good idea until you remember some of them are literal children

☆ beach day the sequel

the consequences of your actions and some more actions

PADDOCK ENCOUNTERS (misc & shorts)

☆ chilli-pepper

☆ sold

☆ teenagers and baseball gears

☆ roo vs. the cameraman

BEST OF ROO (the compilations)

☆ radio

☆ incorrect

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS

☆ after the gig

☆ what’s your roman empire?

☆ there’s another side that you don’t know

☆ new year, new name, and a vacation dump

☆ into outer space

[blueywrites]

the boy is mine (bluey's version)

I saw @carolmunson's writing challenge and was immediately so inspired! what a lovely distraction from some pesky contractions haha. I can't wait to see everyone's interpretations and their takes on our boy eddie 🩵

cw: eddie x fem!reader, established relationship, sfw aside from some lewd innuendos (including an insinuation that his goods make him a man, so traditional 80s-esque views on gender identity)

length: 1.9k

prompt rules: the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" ; "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." ; "and you like that?" ; "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

to view the full challenge description and try it yourself, go here!

When you arrive at Eddie’s trailer home this early summer evening, you are faced with two surprises. The first is delightful, and the second… well. Let’s just say it is, unequivocally, a very Eddie Munson type of surprise. 

The first comes when you rap on the screen door frame and hear Eddie’s greeting float to you not from within the trailer, but from behind it. You purse your lips curiously, and your sandals slap against old wood and then dry, frazzled grass as you descend the porch steps and follow the rasp of his voice.

The Munsons’ trailer backs up against the woods surrounding Forest Hills. As you emerge from the side of the building, you see the familiar piles of junk scattered along the sparse treeline, including the husk of an old Buick which has become a permanent part of the landscape. But where the space between the trailer and that treeline is typically empty, tonight, it isn’t. Plopped right in the middle like some garish plastic zoo exhibit is a blow-up wading pool, and the animal on display is your boyfriend.

Eddie’s lanky legs are spread out in as wide a v as he can get them within the round inflatable tub, and his shorts— which are a pair of faded jeans he’d cut off at the knees— are pitch dark with soaked-up water to his lap. When he sees you, he slides down a little further in the basin, unconcerned about the obnoxious sound of denim-on-plastic as he casually slings his arms over the bulbous sides of the pool. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he drawls, grinning at your flabbergasted face. “Ready to get all soaked for me?”

Once you’ve recovered from that atrocious one-liner, peeled off your blouse, and, wearing just your shorts and bra, wedged yourself in-between his spread legs, Eddie explains that the kiddie pool came from one of his neighbors. She bartered with him for it; he’d provided her with a fresh coat of paint for her deck railing, and she’d provided him, and thus you, with relief from the oppressive summer heat in the form of a shallow, lukewarm pool of metallic-smelling hose water. 

It truly is a delightful surprise.

You wiggle into place, leaning back against Eddie’s warm, damp chest. He holds you pressed into him as if you’d have any inclination to move away, and you hum happily as his hand dips beneath the water to curl possessively around your hip. You feel his torso shift to the side behind you as he says, half-teasing, “I ran out of, like, nice cups. Is this okay?”

You wiggle your toes in the water, making little rippling splashes as Eddie reaches down over the side of the pool and retrieves your favorite cup— thick, plastic, and Snoopy-themed— filled with your favorite drink— three-quarters lemonade made from powder mix, one-quarter whiskey nicked from Wayne’s stash in the back of the stereo cabinet. Eddie’s chuckle rumbles against your shoulder blades as you cradle your precious brew in both hands, taking a healthy sip and chasing the burn with a sweet peck to his stubbly cheek.

Together, you and Eddie lounge contentedly for a while, talking about nothing and sipping your whiskey lemonades until your toetips prune. Eventually, the day’s oppressive heat breaks, and Eddie reluctantly relinquishes his grip on you when you declare you’re no longer hot enough to be sitting soggy in the pool any longer. You don your shirts, squeeze the moisture as best you can from your shorts, and then heft the pool up sideways, dumping its innards out in a river that rushes toward the forest.

As the water laps up against old tires, your boyfriend turns to you in a whip of eager curls, pinning you with a suddenly intense look. His eyes gleam in the deepening auburn light as he asks you, “Wanna see something cool?”

You follow him obediently over to the Buick, standing back a couple of feet as he wedges his fingers under the front hood to pop the clasp. You watch him curiously as he bends at the waist, shifting the hood up just slightly and peering into the dark sliver of space for a moment. He straightens up with a grin. “What is it?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply; he just lifts the lid, letting you see your second surprise.

There, nestled between metal piping and the side of the rusted-out engine, is a large lump of bristly gray fur. Your eyes dart to Eddie, but his grin hasn’t budged at the sight of whatever-the-fuck-that-is. Wordlessly, you watch as Eddie slowly and carefully eases the hood up, prompting the motionless lump to shift slightly in a rustle of surrounding detritus. With each inch that Eddie’s arms extend upward, your concern mounts as the shifting bundle becomes more and more restless. 

And then a textured tail pops out. 

It’s long and ugly, sparsely furred and, unnervingly, the same color as the bottom of Eddie’s feet. As the car’s hood creaks near the apex of its journey upwards, a head suddenly snaps up just as sharply from the bristly mound. It is large and white, with beady eyes and a pale pink snout that parts to reveal little vampire fangs jutting from the top and bottom of its maw.

The creature’s mouth widens as Eddie’s torso grows closer when he hefts the hood up all the way. As he lifts the stick on the side to hold it in place, his frizzy waves dangle dangerously over the animal. You tense when you hear a high, raspy hiss. 

But your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your concern. With a long-suffering sigh, he lightly chastizes the thing like he’s scolding a small child. “Look, if you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” He stares it down, and slowly, its mouth begins to close. “That’s better. No need to get your panties in a twist; it’s just me. Well, and her—” he juts a thumb at you over his shoulder without bothering to look. “But she’s harmless, I swear.”

Instantly, you’re affronted by the fact that Eddie would need to assure it of your harmlessness rather than the other way around, and you shoot your boyfriend a glare he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy trying to mollify the creature. From a cautious distance, you examine the— rodent?— and its home, quickly recognizing the deflated floral fabric of one of the throw pillows from the Munsons’ couch. The animal has clearly torn a hole into it and dragged out the feathers inside, using them to line its nest of dried grass and crumbling leaves. 

A sudden shift of Eddie’s elbow has the thing scrunching back in a flinch. “Aw,” he coos. “Don’t be like that. I’m tellin’ you, she’s harmless.” Silence follows his proclamation, and you shake your head slowly as he pretends to rebut the animal’s complaint. “That’s not even true,” he argues. “You can’t believe everything you hear, y’know. I have it on good authority; she’s one of the nice ones.”

Eddie finally glances over his shoulder at you, pouting at your continued distance; at his impatient beckoning, you draw reluctantly closer, eyes locked on the small beast inside the old vehicle. When you’re a few paces away, you finally see it clearly enough to place what it is:

An opossum. 

You sigh heavily out of your nose, consternated but no longer confused. Of course your boyfriend would have a pet opossum living in a rusted-out car behind his trailer, because why the fuck not? He already feeds the stray cats in the park; why would it be a problem to add another cat-shaped creature to the mix?

Figures.

Now that you’ve identified the lump as an opossum, the veil of mystery falls and it becomes less intimidating. You inch a little closer, glancing down when your bare toes hit smooth, hollow plastic. You’ve kicked the empty carcass of a small round container in the grass, and as you peer down at it, its blue and white label resolves itself into clarity.

“Eddie.”

“Hm?” His mop of hair whips as his chin snaps away from the opossum and towards you, though his gaze remains on the animal as if reluctant to drag away. You wait for his eyes to follow before asking, slowly and deliberately, 

“...Did you feed the possum vanilla icing?”

You don’t actually need Eddie to reply to know the answer to that. In fact, you don’t even spare him a glance. Instead, you squint at the animal, which is currently staring into the middle distance between you and Eddie with black, glassy eyes. It feels only appropriate to address it directly, so you ask the opossum a follow-up question. “And you liked that?” 

“Of course she likes it,” Eddie cuts in defensively, crossing his arms over the tattered WASP t-shirt he’d hacked the sleeves and hem off of. “Who doesn’t like vanilla frosting?”

The sight of his tight pale biceps and the veins running from his ruddy hands up to the tan line around his elbows is almost enough to distract you. But you valiantly persevere, turning your skeptical squint on him and ignoring his rhetorical question to ask instead, “How do you know it’s a girl?”

Eddie’s head rears as if he’s genuinely taken aback by your question. He gestures widely toward the opossum, flinging his arms and scoffing, “Isn’t it obvious? I mean, just look at her fuckin’ eyelashes.” 

You blink up at him, bemused by his logic. “Eddie. You have really long eyelashes. Are you a girl?”

Those aforementioned eyelashes bat dramatically, and then Eddie’s brown eyes sparkle with mischief. His lips curl wolfishly as he pitches his voice low, murmuring, “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart.” He squeezes the crotch of his damp cut-offs showily, that devilish smile widening with delight when you wrinkle your nose and grunt with disgust.

“Perv,” you snap back, but there’s no bite in it as you dig in your blouse pocket and pull out the small bound notebook and stub of a pencil you always carry with you.

He gets nosy then, trying to look over your shoulder as you start to commit the creature to the page. He plants his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your middle, watching as you carefully scratch down the bugged-out eyes and gaping maw it greeted you with. 

The gesture is cute, but in his jostling of you, one of the opossum’s teeth goes horribly jagged. “Eddie! Quit it,” you whine, though your complaint dissolves into giggles when he mouths playfully at your salty neck. 

“You drawin’ my little possum?” He murmurs in your ear.

“How’d you manage to make that sound dirty? Actually,” you slant him a deadpan look, “pretend I didn’t ask that. I don’t wanna think about you and that poor possum in any way.”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t tell me you’re jealous of her, sweetheart,” he teases. 

His arms tighten in anticipation of your resistance, but you don’t push him away or even groan like he expects. Instead, you hum happily as he holds you tight against him, leaning into his embrace. 

You can almost feel Eddie’s happiness like a physical presence as he sways you gently in place, so freely affectionate in a way that you never would have guessed when you first met him. It melts you every time you remember that the walls which stand in place for everyone else crumbled for you long ago.

With that feeling bubbling in your chest, you shoot the opossum a playfully threatening look. “Back off. He’s mine,” you say. 

She tucks her head into the straw with a huff, digging in deeper when you squeal as Eddie attacks the side of your face with sloppy, smacking kisses. 

Yeah. Eddie Munson is yours, for sure.

[perfectlyoongi]

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who always greeted you with a hug. the day only started when Hoseok saw you; when Hoseok met you on the street or at home, it was more than guaranteed that a big, long hug would greet you. holding you in his arms, protecting you from the world for a few seconds, Hoseok hugged you with the happiness of the sun. your hearts synchronized their beat in a little symphony of pure love and trust — you felt so safe in your best friend’s arms. “hi, my butterfly! how was your night? i’ve just arrived in the city and i’m exhausted. do you mind if we go to my house?”

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who does the ghost photoshoot with you. autumn is a beautiful season of the year; colorful leaves cried from the various trees, flowers tried to understand if life was still worth living and the sky became nostalgic for the loss of summer. and it was on these colder and more colorful days that you and Hoseok would wear a white sheet with a pair of sunglasses and go to parks and gardens taking as many photos as you could. it was a tradition that came from childhood and was certainly a tradition that would last. “i passed a small garden that still has some green bushes. do you want to go there and take some photos? i kept your sunglasses, don’t worry, you don’t lose them.”

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who has a snoopy t-shirt and gave you a woodstock one. as soon as Hoseok saw the two t-shirts next to each other, you immediately came to his mind. snoopy and woodstock, you and Hoseok — two best friends from the beginning of time to the end of time. it was more than predictable that Hoseok would buy him the snoopy t-shirt and what is snoopy without his woodstock? of course you also had to have your own t-shirt. “what can i say? they created snoopy and woodstock with us in mind. we are the inspiration of best friends.”

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who made you sign his sneakers. whenever Hoseok buys a new pair of sneakers that have the color white decorating them, Hoseok would bring the shoes to you and ask you to sign them. it was a superstition that arose before he became an idol: when you signed his white sneakers that late afternoon before Hoseok’s audition, you didn’t think that you would spend the rest of your time signing sneakers. it was Hoseok’s lucky charm. whether for everyday walking or for wearing on stage, any sneaker with the slightest white detail contained your name and a small heart that flooded Hoseok with pure hope and confidence. “i’m going to wear these sneakers to the show tomorrow and i need you to sign them urgently. i need some of your magic for tomorrow, please.”

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who teaches you his choreography and only laughs at your failures. Hoseok loved your company and it was in your company that Hoseok felt free; so, when a new choreography had to be learned, he would ask for your company to encourage him to give a little more of himself. between Hoseok’s awkward first steps and the perfection of his movements was your support: your voice echoed around the room and brought smiles from Hoseok that he couldn’t hide. and when the choreography had already been learned and memorized, Hoseok would invite you to try dancing with him and, oh, how it was the highlight of Hoseok’s day; whether you danced well or had more difficulty, Hoseok was always ready to laugh at any and all mistakes you made, recording these little memories that would last forever on his phone. “no, no. first you stretch your leg and only then you look back. if we continue doing this we will end up in the emergency room. oh my god! enough for today. you’ve already done a lot.”

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who rents you a cabin every summer. once a year, Hoseok had to decompress, forget all the hustle and bustle of the city and his work and enjoy some of the tranquility that nature could offer him; and all his rest was only complete when shared with you. so, every summer for four or five days, Hoseok would rent a small cabin in the middle of nowhere where he would spend the days in pure relaxation and happiness in your presence. a little friends vacation that brought so many memories and love that you both knew would always be repeated in the coming year. “i swear my heart only finds peace when it’s with you.”

BEST-FRIEND!HOSEOK who confessed to you when you were watching the stars on a summer night. endless stories were being reflected in the vast sky, illuminating that warm night. several stars danced in the dark sky, adorning the entire world with an eternal cloak of beauty and destruction. and moved by the beauty of the stars, completely surrendered to the cosmic destruction of those stars, Hoseok spoke to the sky. Hoseok confessed to you, but he spoke to the sky, wanting his words to be saved by the various stars for when you were willing to repeat them to Hoseok. “i like you, you know? every night i wish your love for me would turn into something more. every night the stars know that i just want to give myself to you.”

[lovebugism]

hi hello angel! i have a prompt request <3 “it’s nine in the morning, are you seriously already in swimming trunks?” with steve x punchy... i imagine some cute scenes by steve's pool, maybe some sm*t maybe not dealers choice ! i just love those two sweethearts

thanks so much for your request! and for giving me the opportunity to write more punchy x steve!! hope you like it!! — the one where steve buys his summer hating gf a bathing suit (1.9k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

No parents. Big house. The perfect concoction for you and Steve to play Old Married Couple whenever work permitted it. 

He closed at Family Video the day before while you slaved over a fourteen-hour shift — just so you could have the weekend off together. The aching bones, tired feet, and frustration-induced migraine were worth it, though. Because it meant waking up in the arms of your boyfriend without either of you having to be in a rush come sunrise.

And even though you remember falling asleep with Steve’s arm wound tightly around your waist — because you spent a good five minutes arguing about the way his palm laid on the pudge of your stomach — you wake up with the boy nowhere to be found.

You rouse before you’re ready to that morning, freezing without the furnace of Steve Harrington and furry chest holding you. You curl beneath his plaid sheets and bury your face into his navy blue pillow. The lingering scent of his musky cologne and floral shampoo does little to quell your yearning.

You decide to go on the hunt for the lost boy.

Still in your pajamas from the night before — a wrinkled Hellfire shirt, a rather modest pair of cotton underwear, and smudged makeup you were too tired to take off the night before — you trek through the empty Harrington household.

“Stevie?” you call for him. Your only answer is an eerie silence. You try again. “Steve?”

He’s not in the bathroom or the upstairs den. He’s not in the living room downstairs, either, or in the adjacent kitchen. He’s quite literally nowhere, and the feeling of affirmed loneliness settles like a brick in the pit of your empty stomach.

Turns out, No Parents, Big House was only fun when Steve was there to share it with you.

You convince yourself he’s probably out getting breakfast for the both of you and didn’t want to wake you up before he left — because he’s way too sweet for his own good. So you decide to busy yourself in wait for him. You pour yourself a coffee from the bubbling machine, sloshing the heady brown liquid into a Snoopy mug you found in the back of the cabinet.

The sliding glass door a little ways behind you whirs violently when it’s opened with a too aggressive hand. The sound of it makes your heart lurch with fleeting panic. Your head whips over your shoulder in the direction of the sound. Drops of coffee spill onto the marble countertop as you flinch.

Steve enters the house then, wearing nothing but a pair of red shorts and black sunglasses — his lean torso and accompanying umber chest hair totally on display. He’s beaming like the yellow sun outside at the sight of you. His honey eyes twinkle with mirth as his hand pushes his RayBans to the top of his messy hair. 

“Oh. Hey, babe,” the boy greets with a tightlipped grin as he shuts the glass door behind him.

With one hand on your racing heart, you shove the coffee pot back into place. “Where were you— It’s nine in the morning, Steve! Why the hell are you already in swimming trunks?”

Steve’s gotten used to how loudly you speak sometimes. It’s usually when you’re happy, sometimes when you’re angry, and on the rarer occasion that something’s frightened you. He likes when you’re enthusiastic and talking his ear off, though, because he hates when you get quiet.

If loudmouth, glittering, sunshine-coated Punchy is ever not talking, something very, very bad has happened.

“In my defense, I’ve been up since seven, alright?” Steve contends, laughing softly to himself. As he walks further into the kitchen, you see he’s adorned his outfit with a pair of rubber sandals. They flip-flop, flip-flop against the tile with every stride. “I went for a run, took a shower, got you coffee—”

He motions to the cardboard cups sitting side by side on the island countertop. The former has been relieved from its lid and most of the sugary content inside. The latter is still intently covered in attempts to keep it warm. In your fleeting alarm and distant heartache, your eyes completely missed them.

“Oh…” you hum quietly in response, still clutching the warm Snoopy mug in your cold hands. “Thank you…”

You walk the short distance to the kitchen island and set the ceramic cup on the counter. You pop the lid off the lukewarm coffee — already adorned with your usual two creams, three sugars combo. You pour the liquid into the mug until it’s filled to the very brim. Steve watches with a distant smile as you take a careful sip from it, mindful not to spill it.

“And since it’s such a nice day outside, I wanted to get a jump on it and head out there,” the boy continues with a shrug. He leans his head to his freckled shoulder as he grins down at you. “I was waiting for you to wake up so I could spend it with you…”

You mirror his too cute posture, tilting your own head and peering up at him through your lashes. Bits of mascara are still smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, Stevie.”

He wraps you in his arms, two golden limbs winding around your waist. Your shoulder presses into the center of his bare chest when he pulls you into him.

He watches you take another slow sip of your milky brown coffee — always so attentive in the way he gazes at you, like he’s checking to make sure you’re okay. You don’t make a face like it’s burned you or like he’s gotten you the wrong order, so he smiles. 

“Go get your swimsuit on, alright? We’re poolin’ all day today, babe.”

“Ew, no. Gross,” you grumble, shrugging your shoulder as you halfheartedly writhe in his arms. “I wasn’t made to be outside, okay? I am not a creature of sunshine, Steven.”

His pink lips jut softly out as his brows furrow. “Hm. That’s weird. ‘Cause you’re my sunshine.”

Your nose scrunches up at him, obviously discontent with his compliment.

The look makes him grin. “Exactly,” he coos before leaning down to kiss the tip of your rumpled nose.

“I don’t even have a bathing suit here! Or, like, at all.”

“I bought you one,” Steve shrugs.

You squint at him. “No, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I did,” he singsongs. “It’s in the dresser with my swim trunks. The—”

“Bottom drawer,” you finish for him, still a bit monotoned with contempt.

It makes the two of you grin like a couple of lovesick idiots. There was hardly anything more domestic than knowing how someone organizes their wardrobe — sharing a part of it with them even more so. But the gooey, warm, marshmallow fluff thought is swiftly eclipsed by your distant disdain for the bathing suit he bought you.

It’s not even that it’s ugly or anything, because it’s actually quite cute. It’s made even cuter by the idea that your pretty boy got it for you — that he saw it and thought of you because he loves you. But it goes against everything in your personal Punchy Doctrine. 

You never really learned how to swim, and the sun is your arch nemesis in the summertime — because your pretty all-black outfits do not fare well in the heat. You hate bikinis even more. Mostly because you feel like they’re a direct result of the patriarchal male gaze and your body is nothing if not a symbol of protest.

But you do love Steve. And Steve isn’t like the assholes that used to ogle at you in your swimsuit or sneer at you for not having a flat stomach.

Steve loved you, and you loved him back, so you decide to humor him and wear it despite everything that tells you not to.

“Ooh,” the boy singsongs when you walk through the sliding glass door. He’s already sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs beside the glittering blue pool. He’s tossed a towel over the one beside him for you and preemptively dragged it several inches closer. You laugh as he announces to no one, “Look how pretty my girlfriend is!”

“Shut up,” you grouse and shut the door behind you.

The early morning heat is tolerable, but still all consuming. The humidity sticks to your bare skin with an inescapable grip as the sun pierces every inch of you it can touch. You’re already mourning the cold of Steve’s house. Not a creature of sunshine, indeed.

“Do you like it?” he asks, squinting at you through his sunglasses.

You cross your arms as you peer down at him. “Do you want me to answer that honestly or…?”

“It’s perfect for you! What do you mean?” Steve argues, his voice several octaves higher as he rises from his seat. He swings his legs off the side of it and uses his glasses to push back his wild honey hair. His hands gesticulate wildly as he continues. “It’s black — which I know is your favorite color — and it’s got spiderwebs on it because I know you’re into… spiders, and… weird stuff…”

“And what about the cutouts on the side, huh?” you tease in a lilt. “What’s that for?”

A boyish grin tugs at Steve’s pink mouth as his eyes flit to your hips. The high-waisted bottoms are slatted along the sides to reveal large sections of your skin. Your hips pokes out beneath them, not quite as slim as the designer intended. You wear your pudge with pride anyway, especially with the way Steve looks at you. His eyes twinkle with lust and adoration and sunshine.

“That was just a little treat for me,” the boy confesses with an innocuous shrug.

You scoff. “Right.”

“Well… for what it’s worth… I think you look really pretty, Punchy.”

You meet his sincere glimmer with a beam. Your eyes trail over his muscular form, marveling silently at the way his chest glitters golden beneath the sun and how his trunks bunch up to reveal more of his thighs.

For a second, you can’t believe he’s yours — that Punchy ended up with Steve The Hair Harrington. But then you realize that he is yours, and that you can kiss him silly because you’re his, too.

“You look really pretty, too, Stevie,” you gush as you launch yourself into his lap, a bit more aggressively than you intended to.

He huffs at your sudden weight, but hugs you back when your arms wrap around his neck. He eases the both of you back into the lounge chair, with you resting most of your weight on top of him.

“You plan on staying like this all day, babe?” he asks, laughing and hoping you’ll say yes.

“Yep,” you affirm before the words leave his mouth, half-muffled because you’re talking into his neck.

“Even if it gets too hot?”

“Especially if it gets too hot,” you joke. You pull back from him slightly to find the boy smiling at you, one eye squinted shut to hide from the sun. You beam back at him, brighter. “You’re too sexy not to hang on to, Steve Harrington. I don’t think I can let you go.”

“Good,” Steve hums back. His fingers squeeze the sides of your hips, warm and reassuring. “I don’t think I want you to me go.”

[leclsrc]

for ur 3k i just want to see an omitted scene from its never over pleaseeeee <3333

i need more childhood friends to lovers w charles 🥺🥺 angsty fluffy childhood friends for the 3k please 😩😋

say it all – cl16

You bid farewell to a myriad of memories, rolled into the most memorable summer of your teenage life. (was originally part of this, can stand alone just fine)

auds here... features snoopy and childhood friend!charles again :)

You run the stretch of sand to the dock from the villa, a downhill sprint that requires stamina and laughter and constantly ends with you crashing into Charles, legs wrapping around his waist as you both flop with a thud onto the sand. It happens again now, his hands wrapped around your waist, your dress tickling the top of your thighs as you fall and laugh.

You get up on your elbows, watching him sweep sand out of his eyes. “Did you close the villa window?” Both your parents are still at dinner, so you’re both in charge of making sure nobody gets burgled or whatever.

“Yeah.” He pauses, smiling up at you, his eyes light and so green. “But it doesn’t close all the way.”

You hum in agreement. “The wind always gets in.”

Your tolerance is so bad you’re loopy from one drink, and it’d been cut with juice, even. Your hair’s littered with fine sand when you get up, hauling Charles with you as you make the slow walk to the dock for the last time. Ever since he told you he’d be in Spain for karting next year, you’d anticipated the grief over your summers in Villefranche, knowing that in time, they’d grow more and more intermittent, happening less and less—

Before you know it, you’re weeping with it. You’ll miss it. You’ll miss all of it. All of him. All of Charles. There’s always been a window for you two, something there, something unnamed. But next summer it won’t be there, and that’s what you grieve.

“We can always come back,” he says, nudging your foot with his, both half-submerged in the cold dusk water. You laugh, wiping tears away messily, leaning on his shoulder. It’s grown more sturdy with how often he’s driving, no longer lanky and “noodle-y”, as you’d joked once. It’s safe, secure. But then again, you think—it’s always been.

“I know we can,” you sniffle, staring at the blue below. Of course you can. One day you’ll be old enough to drive yourselves up to the villa, old enough to be trusted with the keys (never you), or the parking (never Charles), old enough to join the clubs with IDs that aren’t doctored. By then you might find the dress you’re wearing tacky, and Charles might be a Red Bull driver already. 

But the summers before and the summers to follow won’t be this summer. They will never be this summer. The summer of sandy toes and being old enough to have an aperol with a smidge of alcohol, the summer of beach-crunched hair, hot sun and cool evenings where you’re satiated by pasta.

The same summer you found drunk Charles is sleepy Charles, an epiphany that arrived when you saw his tanned skin against the white of your duvet, eyes fluttered closed. He wouldn’t budge if you or Hervé tried pulling him off, but he moved enough to let you sleep beside him.

The summer you tried getting him to stop calling you Snoopy, because it was too childish for you, but he’d say goodnight Snoopy before bed every night without fail. The summer you dove off a cliff a few hours away and watched as Charles chickened out from below. The summer of your first cigarette, ashes flicked into the bushes by the villa at two-thirty in the morning. The summer that started with your first heartbreak. The summer that ends with another.

Gingerly, you lace your hand in his. It’s normal, but in your head it means something else. You play out the fantasy that he’s yours, if just for a minute. This will always be the summer you spent being seventeen and feeling old enough to be loving your best friend, but young enough that you wouldn’t tell a soul.

“Any plans for the fall?” You ask, shutting the window.

“I’ll drop you off at uni,” he says. It doesn’t close all the way.

[eretzyisrael]

by Shiryn Ghermezian

Academy Award-winning Jewish American songwriter Richard M. Sherman, one of the creative geniuses behind some of Walt Disney’s most iconic and timeless songs, died on Saturday at the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills “due to age-related illness,” the Walt Disney Company announced. He was 95 years old.

The Walt Disney Company described Sherman as “one of the most prolific composer-lyricists in the history of family entertainment, and a key member of Walt Disney’s inner circle of creative talents.” The company added that it will announce at a later date its plans for celebrating Sherman’s life.

“Richard Sherman was the embodiment of what it means to be a Disney Legend, creating along with his brother Robert the beloved classics that have become a cherished part of the soundtrack of our lives,” said Bob Iger, CEO of The Walt Disney Company. “From films like Mary Poppins and The Jungle Book to attractions like ‘It’s a Small World,’ the music of the Sherman Brothers has captured the hearts of generations of audiences. We are forever grateful for the mark Richard left on the world, and we extend our deepest condolences to his family.”

Sherman and his late brother, Robert B. Sherman, made up the songwriting team known as the Sherman Brothers. Together they wrote music for the 1964 film Mary Poppins, including “Chim Chim Cher-ee,” “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” “A Spoonful of Sugar,” and the lullaby “Feed the Birds.” The brothers won the Oscars for Best Score – Substantially Original and Best Original Song for “Chim Chim Cher-ee.” “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” made it on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1965 and “Feed the Birds” was one of Walt Disney’s favorite songs.

“You don’t get songs like ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’ without a genuine love of life, which Richard passed on to everyone lucky enough to be around him,” said Pete Docter, chief creative officer of Pixar Animation Studios. “Even in his 90s he had more energy and enthusiasm than anyone, and I always left renewed by Richard’s infectious joy for life.”

Born on June 12, 1928, in New York City, Richard’s family relocated to Beverly Hills in 1937. He attended Beverly Hills High School and later studied music at Bard College. He was drafted into the United States Army and served as conductor for the Army band and glee club from 1953 to 1955.

Walt Disney hired the Sherman brothers as staff songwriters for The Walt Disney Studios after the success of their song “Tall Paul,” which sold more than 700,000 singles. The brothers together ultimately wrote more than 200 songs for some 27 Disney films and 24 television productions. Their credit included The Horsemasters (1961), The Absent-Minded Professor (1961), The Parent Trap (1961), Summer Magic (1963), The Sword in the Stone (1963), That Darn Cat! (1965), Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree (1966), The Jungle Book (1967), The Happiest Millionaire (1967), The Aristocats (1970), Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971), and The Tigger Movie (1998). Richard later wrote new lyrics for the live-action The Jungle Book in 2016 and two years after appeared in the film Christopher Robin, for which he also composed three new songs.

The Sherman brothers also wrote music for Disney theme park attractions around the world, including “There’s a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow,” “The Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room,” and “It’s a Small World.” In the early 1980s, they wrote songs for EPCOT and Tokyo Disneyland, including “One Little Spark” and “Meet the World.”

The Sherman brothers left The Walt Disney Studios in the early 1970s and went on to write music, songs, and screenplays for films such as Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968), Snoopy Come Home (1972), Charlotte’s Web (1973), The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1973), Huckleberry Finn (1974), and The Slipper and the Rose (1976).

In 1972, the duo became the only Americans to ever win 1st Prize at the Moscow Film Festival for their film musical The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, for which they wrote the script and music. The brothers were inducted as Disney Legends in 1990 and into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2005. Three years later, the brothers were awarded the National Medal of the Arts.

In 2010, Richard and award-winning composer John Debney collaborated on the song “Make Way for Tomorrow Today” for Marvel Studios’ Iron Man 2.

Over the course of his 65-year career, Richard received nine Academy Award nominations, won three Grammys, and received 24 gold and platinum albums. Richard’s father, Al Sherman, was also a songwriter.

[allamericansbitch]

Hi everyone! Here’s the newest addition to my Creator Shoutout Series (july 21- august 4)! I want to appreciate editors and their creations that i love from the past two weeks. To track this series or look at previous shoutouts, please check out the tag on my blog *creatorshoutouts.

the nanny: fran fine gifset by @chappelroans

yellowjackets: taissa + character dynamics gifset by @taiturner

past lives: postcards gifset by @kahhorri

sabrina carpenter fan art by @shortnsweetgf

paramore: last hope graphic by @ociocupacional

yellowjackets: nat and lottie gifset by @cardvngreenbriar

bottoms: hazel callahan gifset by @thepunkpanther

sabrina carpenter: cherry baby gifset by @weirdobarbie

the bear: 2.08 gifset by @loveisalwaystheanswer

gilmore girls: rory gilmore + snoopy gifset by @deadpoets

it (2017): eddie kaspbrak gifset by @vader-anakin

mindhunter: 1.01 gifset by @wardengrill

yellowjackets: 1.05 and 1.08 gifset by @sophie-thatchers

paramore: told you so graphic by @cellphonehippie

halsey: lucky music video gifset by @tolerateit

chappell roan: the rise and fall of a midwest princess graphic by @megmcart

sad girl summer gifset by @antoniosvivaldi

yellowjackets: jackie taylor in 1x01 gifset by @jackiietaylor

gracie abrams: i love you, i'm sorry gifset by @ishouldhateyou

halsey: lucky music video gifset by @phoebesbridgers

phoebe bridgers: i know the end graphic by @artbyellie

schitt's creek: alexis and ted gifset by @alexisrosemullens

yellowjackets: natalie scatorccio gifset by @nataliescatorccio

chappell roan fan art by @toryamoon

paramore: live in munich gifset by @userparamore

watcher gifset by @bloodstain

phoebe bridgers: punisher graphic by @cellphonehippie 

[orchidscurse]

i love the way snoopy's ears flap in the wind ! this is what summer is truly about :)

[sgiandubh]

Logo wars: the unicorn vs. the griffin

Ever since August, the battle between the Warchief and the Sassenach has been lurking somewhere, on the outskirts of my radar. While some still deny there is anything going wrong between S and McTavish, I have strong reservations it's all about sunshine, lollipops and roses in that department. And I couldn't help but wonder if the key to the problem was not to be found in the very disingenuous way Graham chose to build the marketing strategy of his products and to update his own personal brand, in the process.

So I took a deep dive into socials and this is something that is going to take some more time to complete. If this kind of content is not your jam or you disagree with my premises, it's totally fine with me, but maybe you should skip these posts. And since we have to start somewhere, let's start with their companies' logos: they have a lot of things to tell us.

Soon after the Remarkable Week-end, S finally unveiled a business project he'd been alluding to for quite a while (if anything is wrong in here, kindly correct me in comments). This was the logo and the slogan they are still using until today:

The Sassenach Unique Spirits. Spirit of Home.

As compared with what McTavish released this summer:

McTavish Spirits. A Scotsman's Dream of America.

First logo: clean, sober lines. A Unicorn, whose contours seem more aptly designed for a sports car or a new, innovative line of home equipment (think rather audio systems, not refrigerators). Or even an elegant, country life oriented clothing line, with all the paraphernalia (gloves, scarves, etc - but we already knew about the First Love tartan, then, so it's still a possibility).

Unique spirits, with all my deep affection and due respect for a real effort, is not the best they could have come up with. You see, that's hardly a sales argument or an efficient pitch. Just like any dog owner on this planet would tell you that Bebe or Fido or Snoopy are 'the best dogs ever', a new entrepreneur would confidently tell you his booze is 'unique'. The effort S put into patiently educating his passion for whisky and creating something personal out of it deserved better. Not the completely expected and almost meaningless 'unique' - this is very lazy copywriting, I think (not a copywriter, just an exacting client, here). It spells low budget where we needed something irresistible.

Onwards to the Unicorn. Of course, it's all about Scotland - it's whisky, for Christ's sake. But, it's also about this:

This is the sixth panel of one of the most moving, exquisite things that ever graced this planet: The Lady and the Unicorn cycle of Flemish tapestries, now making the pride and joy of the Cluny National Museum of the Middle Ages, in Paris. A place I know well and was a very frequent visitor of, when I was living just about three blocks away from it. Its story has to do with the Five Senses and this is the last panel, featuring a mysterious message on that lavish tent's roof:

A mon seul Désir. It's French for: "To my sole desire". Unique, indeed.

Let's let things flow a bit in free association mode (I know Puffy did it on her blog with the Barbour project, but she didn't invent it and she certainly has no copyright - so yeah, waiting for a couple more idiots to block right after posting this):

Unicorn... Scotland... legend... purity...even Mary Queen of Scots asked for a unicorn horn to make sure the water was not poisoned, while in prison... untamed...chivalry.... woman...only a woman can tame and lure a unicorn... Medieval...Cluny... desire... sole desire... soul desire (heh)...unique...passion.... statement... labor of love... personal testimony...first love and we wrap it up nicely with a smile ('she is the original Sassenach', ahem).

That was the first set of (genuine) talking points he went with. Now, we deal with a contorted & painful explanation: Scotland is an inclusive nation and land, I am the Sassenach, etc. What do our unsuspecting American friends know, after all? But to a #silly European, it makes no sense: yes, Scotland is a very inclusive, open and even avantgarde society for many things, but this is whisky and should spell tradition, not innovation. It should spell mystery and something that comes (at great costs) from a faraway, fabled land of mists and druids and lochs. Not from a blaring EDI crossroads, where people are gathered to protest against global warming. Then how about that unnecessary 'I am the Sassenach' - no, Sir, you aren't, plus I hope you know how we, shippers immediately interpret it ('blood of my blood and bone of my bone' - 😁).

But your main problem with the name and the brand that goes along with is not even this. The problem is that a unicorn is always female. You have a feminine brand for a masculine product.

So instead of a haphazard explanation which smells of improv, why not just take the second, abstract, meaning of unicorn and just say cheekily something along those loose lines, for example:

'Well, we are a new, innovative enterprise which aspires to be a smaller unicorn in the world of spirits. Maybe we'll never make it to 1 billion dollars, but it's the bravery and the innovative spirit that we bring with us from Scotland, our home (cue in waxing lyrical and fill in the blanks with all the tropes you can think of). So we're the new kid on the block, the outsider, the underdog set to conquer new lands and new opportunities, exactly like Jamie Fraser, the character I play in OL does (cue in credible retconning of your initial strategy: you need a new client base to generate sales volume & secure or even multiply returning sales and those people DGAF about OL).'

Granted, you'll totally throw under the bus the whole initial plan, but hey - it's an elegant way out of a conundrum.

Second logo, quite a different situation. It's busy, busy, busy with the kind of motifs that make one immediately think of an engraved Colt grip. Something like this, perhaps, only stylized:

Instead of the Unicorn, we have a double beast: a Lion and an Eagle. In Ancient Greece, this mythical combo was called a  γρύψ (gryps), which later gave 'griffin' in English. It is a hybrid, but then so is bourbon. The Lion is a symbol for the European roots of the brand and the Eagle, well - easy, America, pointing West and meaning new perspectives, freedom, etc. But the brand is McTavish Spirits, in a very personal approach: this is my bourbon (isn't it ironic, for a white label project?) and this is my story and these are my (a Scotsman's) dreams of America. Transparent. Legible. I mean business - this is not a labor of love.

Free association again:

The Lion self... the Older, Wiser Guy... the Leader... the Statesman... Dougal MacKenzie...the (hello) Warchief...but this is America... so I am also the Lonely Gunman... I am exploring a New Frontier... bringing my past with me (all the classy, gentleman-like persona)... telling my personal story, too, in the process... from my Scottish roots to making it in Hollywood... so I am also The Storyteller (unlike that young nincompoop, who just goes zorbing and chases barmaids) ... so, maybe, just maybe if you listen to my stories, you will forget I put zero effort into trying samples and touring the whole land looking for perfect balance, and just went for the easy solution and a quick buck... buy my booze and I'll tell you more... I am reliable and tried and tested and still young enough and strong enough and determined enough (the Eagle) to have a new wife and new plans.

Plus: a masculine brand for a masculine product. I won't keep scores for a while, but pfff... point taken.

This is not only logo conception copycat and shameless, reactive competition, on very thin ice and on a (at this point in time, at least) very slim portion of the market. This is, mark me, war between two people who still have some gigs together.

We'll see next time who shows up at their parallel events and buys their booze and also how they choose to engage (or not) with these people. I think I begin to understand what McTavish's brand strategy is, but I need to have a second, closer look. More on this, tomorrow.

[buckgettingstruck]

pick a treasure in my apartment

thanks for the tag @eddiesfagstache :) this was fun

no pressure tagging @3x15eddie @eddiesbian @treasurehuntbuck @thatbuddie @eddiegettingshot @muddiedfoxglove @mustachediaz @lover-of-mine

[chrswlls]

Off-topic question, but I'm very interested. Do you have any headcanons for the NFB characters? :')

Ok i swear I'll get to the requests but for now thank you for asking this anon because I have a ton. But im kinda embarrassed so I'll only share the ones I have for the popular chatacters lol

(some of these are gonna sound shippy so im gonna remind you now most of these are platonic lmao)

Post-heatwave Jeremy hates dealing with hotter temperatures and prefers to keep himself in cold/neutral places. During the summer he can't keep his composure as much as he wants to.

^^ post-game where he's alive and living with Jenny, she usually helps him cool down during the summers. It's one of the ways they support eachother while recovering from everything that has ever happened

Megan does feel a genuine friendship with Julia sometimes. Even sympathizing with her when it comes to some things. This only really applies during the path where Jeremy is dead and Alan is alive but I'll keep it short

Julia admires Megan in a way. Even if she does end up taking her job after a long time

Robyn wins most games of Uno or whatever funny card game the Nightly Show thinks of. A lot of people say it's luck but it's either she's just good at the game or she can cheese/cheat the game well enough.

Patrick is disliked by his coworkers but is most disliked by Alex. I made a separate post about it once xd

Alex sneezing would be quiet and discreet. Sam on the other hand sneezes like a gun going off and you can hear it across the house

^ Alex pinches their nose for them when theyre about to sneeze XDXDXD

Julia makes jewelry in her free time. Sometimes they're themed after the peoplr around her. Peter wears one of her bracelets.

^ Peter wore the bracelet to his grave. Julia sees it during the funeral and Peter's death haunted her even more from then

Chris and Dave met eachother while fleeing the country. They could either be great friends or cant stand the other. But eitherway they keep seeing eachother and it's kinda funny

Alan writes a few books about his experiences post-game Path D. They're not very popular amongst the youth Advance raised but they're pretty loved by everyone else who bothered to listen and read

Geoff likes pineapple on pizza. See this is because I hate pineapple on pizza.

^^ so does Alex. Them and Boseman jokingly argue about it because Boseman doesn't like pineapple on pizza

Boseman loves Snoopy or whatever the in-universe version of Snoopy is. During early mornings when Channel 1 plays cartoons, Snoopy is always being broadcasted unlike other cartoons that only show up during weekends.

Pro-Advance Suzie canonically marries Zach anyway. I like to think they got married way later though which is some time after the Uprising and Disrupt's "downfall". Zach is the one head over heels for Suzie in this scenario

that's all im willing to share :PP if you wanna hear more you can ask for a patt two. Or maybe headcanons for specific characters/relationships too but you'll be able to tell who are my favs and who i dont mind as much LMAOO

[futurequibblerjournalist]

i just know you'd love an excuse to yap about these two because not enough people do so gimme your Pandora x Xenophilius headcanons pleeeaaasee < 3

Yess I don't think there's a time where I couldn't yap about these two oh my god

There's just so many good flavours of them. My personal favourite headcanon is Pandora Rosier and Xenophilius Malfoy (yes he's Lucius's younger brother—or half brother technically, in my head they don't share a mum) and they chose the name Lovegood together because that's something that represents their values while also distancing them both from their pureblood families.

They also both wore bright yellow to their wedding. Luna mentions at Fleur and Bill's wedding that her father taught her that sun colours at weddings brought good luck so I think it's cute to assume that Xenophilius and Pandora wore sun colours at their wedding.

I think Barty was the first person who got introduced to Xenophilius when he and Pandora first started going out (Pandora was testing the waters for telling Evan and also since Barty is a Ravenclaw like them, and a snoopy, gossipy one at that, it would be more difficult to hide from him). Barty fondly describes him as the humanised version of a wet cotton bud to tease them both but I do imagine they get along.

I've also played around with the idea of Barty and Xenophilius being roommates, so there's that.

I think Pandora was close with Sybill when she still attended (though I imagine Sybill to be older than both of them).

Xenophilius was really fond of plants and did great in Herbology—he also had his own little stash of items that were commonly hard to get one's hands on that he got through his father or trading/making deals during the holidays. It's partially because of this that he was part of the Slug Club (Slughorn also just liked the idea of having both brothers in his club after having already taught Lucius).

Pandora was creating spells even back at Hogwarts and she and Xenophilius would frequently try them out together.

In the summer you could often find the two under a tree on Hogwarts grounds making flower crowns for each other.

Pandora struggled more with leaving behind her pureblood family, not because of the values, but because of Evan who she was becoming increasingly estranged from. Only after learning about Evan being a Death Eater did she pull fully away.

I also think she's the one who came up with the idea of changing their names. She was heartbroken by Evan becoming a Death Eater and sought to distance herself as much as possible. Still, she held onto things from their childhood, things she later passed down to Luna in an attempt to make new, positive memories with the things.

Even though she abandoned her pureblood family, a lot of the customs and ways of acting were still deeply ingrained in Pandora and despite living a very carefree lifestyle she was still very tidy and cared a lot about being presentable (this reflected in Luna as well, up until Pandora's death). Xenophilius was the opposite, he was eager to be free in every way possible from what was expected of him.

The walls of their home are full of paintings. Not paintings in frames but just straight on the walls. They spent a lot of time painting together when Pandora was pregnant with Luna and somewhere in the house, they have handprints on the walls. They added Luna's after she was born. Since Pandora's died hers have faded and it's breaking Xenophilius's heart.

This is not a very specific headcanon but in aus I kinda like the idea of Xenophilius being the "hot and funny vacation boyfriend" except when Pandora describes him as such the skittles are standing there like 🧍🧍🧍🧍 "this is the hot and funny guy you've been talking about??? he looks like a ghost and he's currently collecting shells and seaweed???"

They're both huge nerds and they bond over being huge nerds.

Also, I love picturing them as like the Hogwarts parents of Gilderoy Lockhart, it's so sweet to me and I love picturing them being the only ones willing to listen to him ramble/brag about whatever thing he's done now or whatever his Bubbe has told him over the summer

Pandora loves to braid Xenophilius's hair and putting trinkets and shit in there.

You will 100% catch Xenophilius walking around in Pandora's super flowy patchwork skirts.

They both only have one ear pierced (opposite holes) and Pandora pierced Xenophilius's so they could wear matching earrings.

Both are big friendship bracelet wearers

They're the most queer coded straight ship to me

The first time Pandora heard Xenophilius curse was when he was trying to put together furniture for their house (even with the help of magic my man could not figure it out). Pandora proceeded to join him in yelling at the furniture, not because she couldn't figure it out but for support

They would 110% be the couple who goes all out on their Halloween costumes or just costumes in general honestly. Any occasion is an occasion to dress up

I don't think Pandora was soft-spoken at all, those two give me "he asked for no pickles" vibes through and through

Xenophilius does not believe in the concept of time and Pandora wants to be early to everything.

Xenophilius enjoys making jewellery and Pandora loves wearing it. Xenophilius also taught this skill to their daughter.

Please!!! Let's not forget Xenophilius being slightly cross-eyed!!!!!

Pandora was a Quidditch fan (she was influenced by Barty and Regulus, what can I say). The whole family used to go to Quidditch World Cups together and Xenophilius and Luna continued the tradition after Pandora's death

Xenophilius would definitely burn shit with Barty just because

He would also do graffiti with him in modern aus you can't convince me otherwise

These two would dance naked in their backyard in the moonlight

They would both be friends with Aurora Sinistra, Xenophilius bonds with her over stars and astrology while Pandora bonds with her over Alchemy and Spell creation

I feel like Pandora would really like fish/fishing (aquarium date when)

I think that might be all I can say about them for now but ask me again at literally any other time and I will probably have something new to ramble at you vnfjnbjgnbjg

ALSO!!! ACTUALLY!!! We as a fandom need to find a cute ship name for these two istg I need something. Idk what we have to work with but like,, silverpanda or silverseer (though this could be interpreted as Sybill because of the seer thing so???) or something I don't know, if anyone has any better suggestions PLEASE throw them my way