#BOWTIESTM ; a private portrayal of pete spankoffski , affiliated with @gonighthawks. ( sideblog to hatchetsdown ). penned by emily ( 33, est ).
001. biography. 002. snapshots. 003. headcanons.
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@bowtiestm
#BOWTIESTM ; a private portrayal of pete spankoffski , affiliated with @gonighthawks. ( sideblog to hatchetsdown ). penned by emily ( 33, est ).
001. biography. 002. snapshots. 003. headcanons.
petes head atop hers was nice, somehow when they were together all of the noise that usually went on a constant loop in her mind quieted. she was able to just relax, be herself without any filters or facades. truth be told, he got a side of her not many else had ever seen. following after him, she took a sip from the flute of champagne and her free hand ran through her hair to push it back and out of her face. the more he went on about cats, she couldn't help herself as a small laugh came from her lips and she turned her head just a bit to look at his face while he spoke. ❝ maybe its the pattern, they just find it appealing and cozy. i know i do when i've fallen asleep when we've been cuddling. ❞ a nod of the head follows his question, because she had. notorious party girl steph lauter was known well. ❝ i have yeah, pretty much every year since the start of high school. but honestly? i like this better, y'know? a lot less noisy, not smelly because let me tell you some of our classmates are disgusting; but mostly i just prefer to hang out with you. ❞
Eyes roll softly at her comment, though Pete doesn't hide the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. There's part of him that still can't believe this is his life -- but, looking back, he can't imagine it any other way. He really likes Steph, and despite his... well, everything, she still likes him, too. It's almost too good to be true. Nudging her side, his head shakes. "Yeah, but you don't try to rip my clothes apart with your nails," he comments, though he pauses before adding, "most of the time, anyways."
Chuckling, he relaxes into the couch, lets Steph tell her tale of parties past. There's no jealousy that tugs at his chest, no sadness of missing out. Honestly? Those parties sounded horrible, if the guest list was anything to go by. A night with Max Jagerman? No thank you. "Well, I'm glad you don't have to get puked on tonight," he teases, head turning to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I like hanging out with you, too. Usually, I'd just be with my parents -- or maybe Ruth and Richie, if they wanted to watch a movie, or something. But, honestly?" His arm tightens around her, tucks her closer, "I prefer being with you." A beat, as his voice lowers, "don't tell them I said that."
"we aren’t talking about this, are we? did i hit my head?" / @giftedtm
He's only a little confused by Hannah's words, but he pushes through. He's good at being a tutor, despite the fact that he doesn't really think Hannah needs it. (Her teachers expressed concern with her lack of focus, but her brain was plenty smart. Maybe the school just sucked at being attentive. Oh, well.)
"I know geometry can be confusing," he starts, tone kind, "but it's not the end of the world. It's just shapes, after all. Once you master the three big ones, everything else just kinda," he waves a hand in the air, "falls into place, y'know?" Pausing, he looks down at the workbook, pencil tapping against the table as he reads. "And you're not doing bad, by the way -- your answers are right."
"oh here i am! and there you are! you just disappeared!" / @headgeartm
He's caught off guard when Ruth approaches him, finger pointed in his face. His eyes go a little cross eyed, focusing on her face, first, before he backs up. Hands raised in a silent defense, he begins to back up. "I didn't disappear," he defends, though he's not sure how true that is. (Is running to the bathroom to text your girlfriend about your post study date disappearing?) "I just had to pee. And, before you say anything," a hand raises, "don't."
With slow movements, Pete slinks around Ruth, sliding back into the chair at Beanie's with awkward movements. "Besides, we're basically done with our homework, anyways. It pays to be smart." A finger taps the side of his head, right where his temple is, and Pete leans back in his chair. "Did you need another drink? I might go in for a second hot chocolate."
❝ well, nice for you too. you get all of the lauter perks here. ❞ lightly she elbowed him, she knew he was teasing. if there was one thing she was going to do, it was to use all the privileges afforded to her by her dads wealth if only to be a thorn in his side and to make up for their lack of a relationship.
as his arm moved behind her, steph scooted in a bit closer to him so there wasn't a whole lot of space between them and lifted her glass to take a sip from. a more relaxed, private setting with pete for the new year far surpassed any party she had been invited to. a soft laugh passed her lips while she pictured it, shaking her head. ❝ as far as i know, there aren't any ghosts. however i can't promise the cat won't jump up on you in the middle of the night..❞
Despite how unsettled he feels in the Lauter estate, Pete feels instant relief when Steph scoots closer. It's better like this, he thinks. It's always so easy when they don't worry about anything, or anyone, else. His sigh is content as he tilts his head down, lets it rest on top of hers as he sinks into the couch. Finally comfortable.
"The cat I can deal with," he starts, chuckling softly to himself. Though, the longer he thinks about it, the more his face scrunches up with confusion. "Well, maybe. I'm not allergic, but I'm not not allergic. And the claws," he pauses, sucking in a breath through his teeth, "God, why do they always think my sweaters are the perfect place to flex their paws? I'm a human, not a blanket." Sighing, he takes another sip, the bubbly drink calming his nerves. He's quiet for another moment before he asks, "do you usually go to parties? On New Years, I mean."
despite it being new year's day, mary had picked up a few hours at pizza pete's. she had stayed up late at the fokkers, and she had to wake up early so as to play up the facade that she had been at her church's lock in, but she had taken a nap before her shift. now, she was bright eyed and taking orders at pizza pete's when she saw a familar face.
" hi pete! " she greeted before releasing a soft laugh. " yeah, it was christmas eve and today, but i guess that's okay! people are sometimes nice on holidays and tip more! " she teased with a small smile. " can i get you anything? is it . . . just you here? "
Huh. It makes sense, in a way. Capitalism truly never rests. Head shaking, he turns, arm stretching along the back of the empty chair to his right. "I hope the tips are worth it," he offers. He likes Mary -- she's sweet, and they often run into each other at the library. It's her boyfriend that worries him. (He still doesn't understand why Norman dislikes him -- he's just glad it hasn't extended to his partner.)
Swallowing, Pete nods slowly. "Uh -- yeah! Yup. Just me." It looks stupid, he realizes, and Pete taps his hand against the back of the chair anxiously. His foot begins to move in tandem, too, and Pete lets the silence hang for a moment longer before he smiles, brows lifted high on his forehead. "Any chance I can get a couple of slices?"
Ted rolls his eyes at the question about wanting a mustache. Sure. He ignores it to listen to what else is said, snorting a short laugh and taking another sip of his beer. things happened, okay? Another short laugh and he has to bite his tongue from saying what's on his mind about that wording. How prudish. How boring. He wanted to say something about he was glad to hear Pete's microdick worked when he wanted it to. Always knew his brother would be a grower instead of a shower. Was that weird? That was weird.
He quirks an eyebrow at the mention of the mayor being scarier in person, "Yeah?" He thinks on it a moment then shifts to fold his arms across his chest, hand still holding his beer bottle, "Like... the type of scary that would cut off your dick if he knew you were fucking his daughter? Or the type of scary that would send our family spiraling into absolutely nothing because of the power this guy has?" A little too on the head, don't you think?
Pete looks up, meets Ted's gaze with his own. For a second, he's quiet -- he has to think, honestly. Can both options be true? Because, yes, it is uncomfortable to sit in front of Soloman Lauter at forced family dinners and pretend that everything is normal between them. The man is terrifying, and Pete can't imagine that being around the boy who's actively dating your daughter makes it any better. He feels like a freeloader sometimes, despite how deeply he feels for Stephanie.
Still, it's the second part that has him nodding. "No one should have that much money in a small town," he explains, head shaking. "That house is too big for two people -- trust me. And it looks haunted as shit." Shivering, he brings his hands to his temples, rubbing slow careful circles into the side of his head. Soothing. "Be lucky you don't have to deal with that shit. The longer we're together, the more I think he's plotting my demise. The way he looks at me," Pete pauses, shoulders shuddering. "Intimidating, man."
thankfully, stephanies dad was busy with mayoral duties at some party or another for the night - that meant she could have pete over for.. well as long as she wanted and her dad would never know, he would just roll in at wee hours of the morning and go straight to bed. the house staff were all off for the night, after helping her prep earlier in the day some snacks and the usual cleaning. she excused herself a moment to get some of said snacks as well as options to drink: champagne and soda. all of the items were placed on a table in the middle of the room, petes voice cut through whatever music was playing low in the background and she lifted a brow at his words while a smirk settled on her lips. ❝ oh you've never heard? the ghost of mayors daughters past? her dad bored her to death and she has haunted this place for decades. ❞
Pete's eyes fall to the snacks and the drinks when Steph rounds the corner to bring them back. "Champagne?" He comments first, brows arched with curiosity. "Damn. Having money must be nice, huh?" It's a joke, of course -- he knows her Dad lives a lavish lifestyle, and even if Steph didn't talk about it very much, it was nice to enjoy the finer things in life.
As she settles, Pete tries his best to be subtle in the way his arm stretches out to settle behind her on the back of the couch. (They'd been dating for a better part of the school year, but -- still. He can't shake the first date jitters sometimes, regardless of how much time they spend together.) "By the way, if your house is actually haunted, you have to tell me right now. I'm not much into the supernatural, but if something pops out at me in the middle of the night," his eyes cut to hers, "that's on you."
i guess.
Ted rolls his eyes immediately at the monotone answer into something a little more backed by spite. He snorts and brings his beer up to take another swig, listening as Pete cracks a joke then shifts around until he's laying on his back. He waits a beat knowing there's about to be more said to him and he has to stop the scoff that wants to leave him. Instead he chuckles and shakes his head before taking another drink, humming at first to indicate he had something to respond with. He knew Pete was annoyed about the whole situation. Originally it was just the night and then when this morning rolled around he made it clear to Pete he probably didn't want to come back to the apartment until later. Hell, Emma had only left about two hours ago maybe less than that.
"Yeah, well," Ted begins, eyes on his beer bottle as he checks how much is left in it rather than looking at Pete, "I had no damn clue my night would extend into today and I wasn't about to deny what I was being offered." He flicks his eyes to Pete, head turning forward fully to look at his brother. He lifts the bottle in his hand to point the end of it towards the younger, "Maybe one day you'll understand what that's like-- when you're older, wiser, and actually have a mustache." He's fighting back a grin of amusement, "Not my fault you didn't get a chance to fool around all day with your super rich girlfriend."
Now his words fall on deaf ears. Honestly, Pete doesn't care about Ted's sex life. He knows his brother is... promiscuous, to say the least, but it's never been his problem. Until he was locked out of his own home, of course. And sure, he could've gone to visit his Mom, but the questions that would arise wouldn't have been worth it. (He could stand to walk more, anyways. Or do anything remotely athletic.)
"Who said I want a mustache?" He shoots back, brow raised towards his brother. Sighing, his ankles cross (and dangle slightly off the side of the couch). "And we don't -- don't say it like that, Christ," he tacks on, exhaustion evident in his tone. "We did get to spend New Years Eve together, for the record. And not that it's any of your business but --," he trails off, hands flailing, "things happened, okay? Her Dad just came home and I had to sneak out before he killed me. I don't know if you know this," he head turns, tilts so he can meet Ted's gaze, "but the Mayor is even scarier in person."
It was Thursday night after New Year's and Ted was in the kitchen of his shared apartment with Pete. He had a beer open on the counter and a pizza in the oven, his phone in hand scrolling endlessly on some social media app. His thumb would pause so he could watch a video silently before continuing its motions. Every so often he'd use his other hand to pick up the beer bottle and take a sip, zoned in (or maybe it was out) on what he was doing. Hell, he must've been one of those two to not notice the door open or the initial proclamation that his brother was home. It wasn't until he heard the clatter of glasses on a table and the muffled spoken statement again that Ted realized. He lifted his head and leaned a bit to where he could glance from the kitchen out to the living room. He blinked then turned his head back down, settling against the counter once more, "Welcome home, dorkus."
He paused a moment then locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket then grabbed up his beer so he could enter the space. He pauses in the arch that connects the kitchen to the living room and steps to lean into it. He crosses his legs at his ankles and presses a hand into his pocket, other bringing his beer up for a drink. He stands there staring at where his brother is laying, a brow lifting to quirk with curiosity before he asks what's on his mind, "Did you... have a good time in your time away?"
The words fall on half listening ears -- Pete is tired, the kind that you feel in your bones. He'd spent the better part of his holiday wandering around various parts of Hatchetfield, and not by choice. He knew this was part of the cost of living with Ted. He was an adult, after all, and he was allowed to do adult things. Hell, Pete was already eighteen himself, capable of making his own decisions.
Turning, he squints in the direction of Ted's voice. "I guess," he starts. "Could've done without the extra thousand or so steps, according to my watch," he adds, a little spite in his tone. "But, hey -- who needs a New Year gym membership when you've got downtown Hatchetfield, right?" Sighing, he turns to lay on his back. His hands fold to rest atop his stomach, and his eyes close, trying to enjoy the notion of being home for the first time in a few days. "I don't need to ask you about your holiday," he says, head shaking. "Next time you wanna have spontaneous New Year sex, I need more warning than the day of. Had to spend half my allowance at Pizza Pete's just to kill time."
a frustrated little growl sounded from ruth's chest as pete walked through his advice. she practiced all the time! she rehearsed little scenarios over and over and over again, but it was like the second chris kringle came into view? she was knocked stupidly senseless.
" i'm trying! " she whined before exhaling a frustrated sigh. " but it's like the second those big baby cow eyes look at me? i'm a fucking goner! i can't think of any words to say, and i start sweating and worrying about if my prescription deodorant is working, which makes me sweat even more! "
she huffed and let her shoulders fall, giving a shake of her head. " he keeps asking me about auditioning for grease though. for some reason, he has it through his head that it's a good idea for me to go for it? " she grumbled. " i can't tell if he's got a vat of pig's blood with my name on it or what, but he's been talking about it since before winter break . . . "
Another Ruth Fleming crash out. Peter doesn't mean to, but he laughs under his breath as she rants and raves. He's used to it, honestly -- they are best friends, after all -- but sometimes, he really wishes she'd actually just go for it instead of stressing over the little things. Which, of course, is easier said than done, but -- still. His head shakes, and Pete puts his mug down, lets his hands fold atop the table as he tries to corral her.
"First of all, there's no way a guy like Chris Kringle would ever think about pulling a full blown Carrie on you, Ruth. You and I both know that, okay?" His brow furrows at her, as if to say really? "Second of all -- I don't think it's a bad idea. I know you wanted to transition from the lighting booth onto the stage," he explains. "But, for you to do that, you gotta be confident. And if you can't have a conversation with Chris?" He sucks a breath in through his teeth. "I dunno how you're gonna get through the audition."
Lips purse, and Pete goes quiet as he thinks, tries to brainstorm. "What makes you feel confident? Like -- okay, for example: you work here all the time. And you have to talk to strangers nonstop that come in to order something. How does that not make you nervous?"
cooler than i think i am am i cooler than i think i am?
who: pete and steph ( @spotifytm ) where: the lauter estate, new years eve
He’s never had a girlfriend on New Years before. Ted had always joked with him that he’d be kissing the crook of his elbow until the end of time if he didn’t do something about it, and Pete had always waved him off. It wasn’t important – survival was. But, a summer at abstinence camp can truly change your life, it seems. And not in a bad way.
He sits on the couch in Stephanie’s giant living room – honestly, the Lauter estate is a little… intimidating. He knows she’s rich, but he doesn’t really think about it until they’re in situations like this. His feet shift beneath him, and Pete turns his head, calls to where Steph is in the kitchen. “Have you ever thought about the fact that your house could be super haunted?” He asks, the atmosphere a little too creepy without another person in the room.
who: pete and mary ( @cherubtm ) where: pizza pete's, new year's day
Spending New Year’s Day wandering around Hatchetfield wasn’t exactly Pete’s plan, but as it stands, he’s got nowhere else to go. A quick text from his brother stating he was not welcome made that crystal clear. Plus, he barely escaped Stephanie’s house in one piece this morning – there’s no way he could go back there without the mayor personally destroying him.
So, he floats around town. It’s about midday when he walks into Pizza Pete’s – he’s got his wallet on him, there’s time to play some games and kill some time. He grabs a table by myself in the corner, trying to stay away from crowds and parties. The familiar face of Mary walking over has him feeling a little more at ease with being alone in a place like this. “I didn’t think you’d be working today,” he starts, head tilted. “Sucks that they make you stay open on days like this.”
who: pete and ted ( @sleazeballtm ) where: their shared apartment.
Two days out of the house, and Pete has to wonder if Ted changed the locks on him. He was happy to get out, of course, and spend time with other people – namely Stephanie Lauter – but after a certain point, a man is entitled to sleeping in his own bed. So, as he approaches their shared apartment, Pete knocks only once before letting himself in. (A quick breath of relief escapes him when the key does indeed work.)
“I’m home,” he calls out, toeing off his shoes at the door. Slowly, he trudges towards the couch, nearly faceplanting into the cushions as exhaustion sinks into his bones. He has half a mind to take his glasses off and plop them on the coffee table before he’s fully face down, words muffled into the pillow as he speaks. “I said I’m home.”
who: ruth & pete ( @bowtiestm ) where: noveltea
with winter break coming to a close in the next few days, ruth was getting some extra coin by working at her parents' store. people had been trickling in and out in search of post-holiday deals, but for the most part, noveltea was fairly quiet. it gave ruth time to sit off at one of the tables with pete, her dad handling the front should someone come in.
" chris kringle came in here a few days ago, " she grumbled, a light frustrated growl punctuating her sentiment. " and i choked! i stumbled over my words and my dad had to step in and tell him to have a nice day. i'm never gonna get laid if i can't fucking talk to a hot person -- "
pete's happy to have some downtime out of ted's apartment. living kind of on his own is nice, he thinks, and more than most teenagers can handle. however, he could do without the color commentary every other second. so, his home away from home is noveltea. they don't mind his somewhat high demand for hot chocolate -- it doesn't help that he knows the staff, too.
currently, his hands are wrapped around his third cup, listening to ruth's woes and sorrows. she's always like this, it seems, when it comes to their peers. especially chris. his head shakes, and pete leans back, shrugging a shoulder. "and the conversation starters we ran through together didn't help at all?" he asks, pausing to take a sip. (the chocolate soothes him instantly.) "i'm telling you, ruth -- practice, practice, practice. that's the only way to get good at something." he pauses, brow raised. "or, at least, start something."
full name ⸻ peter spankoffski ( it's polish ) occupation ⸻ student at hatchetfield high school sexuality ⸻ heterosexual pronouns ⸻ he/his height ⸻ 6' notable features ⸻ usually seen wearing a bowtie and suspenders, wears glasses, has very low blood sugar ( so get him his damn hot chocolate )
positive traits ⸻ studious, loyal, brave negative traits ⸻ sarcastic, pushy, defensive aesthetics ⸻ blending in to not make too much noise, style as a defensive choice, stepping out of the shadows biggest fear(s) ⸻ being stuck in hatchetfield
biography:
pete's not sure if he was the plan, or if ted was the plan. either way, it's only slightly weird to have a brother that's seventeen years older than you. as the youngest of the family, pete just wants to have a peaceful childhood until he can go to college.
pete is pretty smart -- maybe the smartest in his family. he has a real knack for math and science, making him a pretty good tutor to his peers (if they ever ask, but they don't -- all because of one rumor).
pete dresses the way he does out of self defense. when he was younger, a girl pranked him while he was going down the slide on the playground. his pants fell down, revealing his... well -- let's just say they call him micro peter now. (it's not actually a micro penis.) the bowtie and suspenders are a ploy to help him blend in (and to ensure his pants stay on at all times).
going into the back half of his senior year, pete just wants to keep his head down, do his work, and get out of state to go to college. he's happy with the friends he has, of course, and he's enjoying the new found freedom of living with his older brother, ted spankoffski. though his mom makes sure to call him once a day, pete feels comfortable. he feels almost like an adult.