This is for @uncannycookie since I asked if they wanted anything and they requested something about Mob going with Teruki to get his ears pierced, so here it is!
But then I also found I wanted to do the entire scene and I didn’t have time to draw it all so… I wrote fanfiction for the first time in my entire life. Writing is very much not my forte so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes. I just thought it was a cute fluffy scene. Ummm, I hope you like it! *screaming over writing*
“You didn’t have to come you know,” Teruki said as he opened the door, a bell gently chiming above them. “It’s going to be fairly quick to get done.” He held the door open for Mob before shutting it behind them, leaving behind a crisp Autumn day and becoming encased in the warm, dark interior of the shop.
Chowder’s eyes widen comically. He looks exactly as shocked about it as Dex still feels. “You– Oh my– What?!”
“I didn’t mean to.”
Chowder stops walking in the middle of the path. They’re going to be late to class, but Dex kinda figured that would be the case when he brought this up. “How do you kiss somebody without meaning to?”
“I was angry.”
“And, so, you know how I’ve been going to counseling this year?” Chowder nods. Dex stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Well, my counselor recommended that I try to find more constructive ways of channeling my anger whenever it comes up.”
“Ways like… kissing.”
“Honestly, C? It was that or punch him.”
“I’m not sure I understand how the only options were either punching him or kissing him.”
Dex shrugs again. And then breathes in deep as much crisp, autumn air as his lungs can take, bracing himself for his next admission. “Because those have kinda always been the only two options for me when it comes to Nursey.”
Chowder’s expression softens from shock to a quiet understanding. “Oh.”
Dex drops his head and stares down at his own shoes.
“So… did he kiss you back?”
A small smile tugs at one corner of Dex’s mouth, and for the first time in a very long while he doesn’t bother fighting it. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.”
What I Love About Fall:
• The leaves change color
• You can wear boots/scarves/oversized sweaters
• Pumpkin EVERYTHING
• The way the air smells (crisp and autumn-like)
• Haunted Houses
• Annual Trip to Salem
• Ghost stories
• Apple cider donuts
• Apple pie
• Cinnamon flavored everything
• Pumpkin spice muffins
• Rainy mornings
• The music gets (more) nostalgic
• Burying under blankets and reading
• Scary movies
• Fuzzy socks
• Morning fog
• Caramel apples
• Pumpkin pie
• Record players
• Pumpkin patches
• Hot tea
• Pumpkin seeds
• Carving pumpkins
Gryffindors are summer, when it’s the best time of the year to stay outside all day, the cloudless skies, birds chirping and insects buzzing, hanging out with your friends, every refreshing wind blow and the short summer showers, bathing in the river, the adrenaline of doing sports and staying up all night to have parties and fireworks.
Slytherins are autumn, the crisp, but not freezing evenings, the fog that’s lying like a coat over the streets, the leaves that are turning from their usual colour to a flashing yellow and orange, the good smell of the forest after a long, soothing rainfall, being excited for Halloween and going trick-or-treating, even if you’re probably already to old for it.
Ravenclaws are winter, staying in your warm, cozy home, reading alone in front of a crackling fireplace, being wrapped in your favourite blanket, reading a good book and have a warming drink, the aesthetic feeling of making the first steps in fresh snow, the sharp, keen feeling of a cold breeze hitting your skin, the freezing nights with clear skies and sparkling stars.
Hufflepuffs are spring, watching the snow melting away, when the animals wake up from their winter sleep, plants and flowers grow and bloom, being playful, the air smells like earth and new life, the refreshing spring showers that remember you that you’re alive, the bright, warm sunlight tickling your skin after a way too long winter.
“the five senses” of simple, pleasant moments that capture each sign.
ARIES IS // Fast legs and faster hearts just as dawn breaks. Numbness from scraped kneecaps and bloodied palms and the dizzying blur of quick sidewalks. Clattering of a chain link fence; dry laughter from desert throats – the kind that rises up from your lungs into your mouth, leaving the rusty taste of adrenaline on the tongue. Smoke lingering in your hair and on your clothes.
TAURUS IS // Standing in the dim light of a warm oven at 2am, messy hair and satin pajamas. Night air dancing in the curtains of an open window. A spoonful of peanut butter thick in your mouth – the sweet of baking cookies fills the room, mixing with the white noise of hushed radio. A gentle hand against the small of your back – an involuntary tugging at the edges of your lips.
GEMINI IS // Bright blue skies and big white clouds. Birds nests tucked in branches, and linens clipped on lines, hanging in an afternoon sun that will plant fresh freckles in ruddy cheeks. The whistle of laughter through gapped teeth. The smell of fresh cut grass from between bare toes, and the stickiness of thumbs wiping the pink and yellow of cotton candy from corners of crooked smiles.
CANCER IS // Early Sunday morning – soft eyes with heavy lids open slow to a familiar room, the walls bathed in shadows and faded lighting. The quiet patter of rain drops against the roof, and the deep rolling thunder. Being surrounded by the soothing scent of home and down feather pillows. The overwhelming comforting weight of blankets draped over tired bones, wrapped tight in the warmth of sleep and rumbling of storms.
LEO IS // Summer kissed skin, big sunglasses and floppy hats. Bright skies over dry fields laced with endless rows of sunflowers – the floral perfume mingling with thick July air. The hot breeze fluttering under a loose tank top, frayed cuffs of denim shorts with holes in the pockets, against your legs. Ripe strawberries in open mouths, the smiling voices of friends singing loud and off key.
VIRGO IS // Crisp, white sheets on a freshly made bed, the corners creased and smoothed down with precision and care. The smell of morning mist and steam rising from the brim of freshly steeped peppermint tea. Ticking analog clocks, rustling papers and the echo of hurried footsteps on wet pavement. The cool glass of a foggy window against your cheek. The quiet hum of waiting.
LIBRA IS // The pink of sunrise filtering through half-open blinds, cast over silk sheets. Opening windows and being greeted by the wafting scents of breakfast and pastries. Tucking hands into the pockets of a new sundress. Sidewalk sounds of birds and bicycle bells and cafe conversations. A thick, creamy smoothie with chunks of fruit stuck in the straw.
SCORPIO IS // The harvest moon, full and round and golden, peaking out from behind clouds that wisp around her like ghosts. The hollowed hooting of owls and sudden rustle of dry leaves. A breeze that raises goosebumps under sweater sleeves. Rich, dark chocolate on your teeth, and lungs full of crisp autumn air – the eerie peaceful of nighttime.
SAGITTARIUS IS // Speeding down an empty road, windows down, wind in your hair and squinting eyes. Crackling bonfires on a river bank, embers dancing as the sun slips behind the horizon. Marshmallows melted to the roofs of mouths – smell of fireworks, and mud on damp skin. The chirping of crickets and boisterous conversations of close friends.
CAPRICORN IS // Midnight all alone – soaking in the almost silence of fresh snowfall. Glowing street lamps illuminating crystallized puffs of breath and streets coated in sparkling, powder white. The burn of hot, black coffee on your tongue and warmth of the cup through knitted mittens on your hands. The still, winter air full of aged evergreen.
AQUARIUS IS // A little shop in your hometown you never noticed before. Dusty books in foreign letters and saturated fabrics, old typewriters and odd lamps. The unique vibration of a phonograph drifts through air that smells like ginger, and something that can’t quite be placed. It leaves spice on the tongue. Tingling of curiosity buzzing under the skin.
PISCES IS // A midday picnic on the beach. Sunshine glittering on the sea, its shore decorated by delicate shells and colored umbrellas. Toes sinking slowly into wet sand as waves wash over them, the rhythmic ebbing and flowing of tides. Distinct scents of sunscreen and sea foam – the sweetness in a juicy mouthful watermelon. The haze of a dreamy day.
I’m 7 years old, standing between the two dogwood trees in my backyard. It’s autumn; there’s a crispness in the golden, late afternoon air. I’ve taken the hood of my parka and thrown it over my head, but my arms are not in the sleeves. The coat falls over my narrow, bird-boned shoulders and down my back.
Like a cape, you see.
I’m cold, sure, but the important thing is that I’ve achieved the necessary look.
My next door neighbor/best friend Eric is here too. He’s done the same thing, coat-wise, because we both need capes. Because I’m Batman. He’s Robin.
That’s not technically correct: I’m Adam West. He’s Burt Ward.
He pretends to read from an imaginary computer punch card, with a bit more oomph this time: “Why is a welder like a woman in love?”
“Because,” I say. Intone, really, letting my thin voice undulate through the words as I speak them. “They both … carry a torch.”
We then leap into action. The specifics of said action elude me, today, but I’m reasonably certain it involved a lot of punching the air. Whiffed jabs and haymakers in the gathering suburban dusk, each one punctuated by a shout: “Biff!” “Bam!” “Pow!”
To be clear: neither Eric nor I understood what we were saying. Didn’t know what welders were, and certainly didn’t have any idea what “carry a torch” meant as a figurative expression. We were simply aping a scene we’d just witnessed on television, from a mid-afternoon rerun of a show that had enjoyed a cultural moment a decade before. Batman, it was called.