#“ketchup makes you better at math and here is why”

[mac33cheese]

Hc that akechi is a big fan of matpat and has a blog of just insane theories

[choso4u]

AREN'T I CHEESY?

ᝰ.ᐟ sypnosis: jjk men reactions when you tell them dirty pick-up lines

GOJO Y/N: Hey Toru, I can be your piano. Gojo: Why baby? Y/N: You can play with me using your fingers until I make a beautiful sound. Gojo: ... Gojo: Very well, sweetheart. Come over here, looks like I could use some piano lessons. Y/N: I was just joking.

GETO Y/N: Are you an elevator? Geto: With all due respect, I am not. Y/N: Just say 'why' goddamit. Geto: *sighs* Geto: Why? Y/N: Because I wanna go up and down on you. Geto: ... Geto That’s a good one. But may I remind you that you don't last 2 minutes. Y/N: Bitch—

CHOSO Y/N: Can i be your ketchup bottle? Choso: Is this another cheesy pick-ip line? Y/N: Maybe. Choso: *breathes deeply* Choso: Okay, why? Y/N: Because you can hit it from the back while I squirt. Choso: *chokes on saliva and clears throat* Choso: If that's what you want, then why not? Y/N: *flabbergasted*

NANAMI Y/N: Wish I was wine. Nanami: Huh? Y/N: So you can lap me up real good. Nanami: *rubs the bridge of his nose* Nanami: Isn't that what I always do? You're getting brave aren't you? Fuckin' brat. Y/N: I— Nanami: Save it. Get over here and let me have a drink. You taste better than wine after all. Y/N: Kento...

TOJI Y/N: Hey, I like math. Toji: No you don't. You're a dumb bitch. Y/N: Shut up. My favorite equation is doing 34+35 with you. Toji: ... Toji: Oh yeah? I like math too. I can add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and then we could multiply. Y/N: Woah. Y/N: What a genius.

[tea-andcake]

Today, I decided to start watching a TV show that I saw on Netflix called "Fermat's Cuisine". It's about mathematics and cooking, which sounded great at that time because I have a PhD in maths and I like cooking (or so I thought!). Unfortunately I had to nope out after watching the first half of the first episode. Which leads me to how maths is portrayed here (and cooking, but we'll get to that later).

The premise is that the protagonist is very gifted on maths and wants to become the greatest mathematician! Ok, great, that's ambitious but why not. So since he's still in high school he is sent to take part in some maths competition which he decides to not finish because "he's never going to be as great as Fermat"? Which is an insane reason! (That's not to say Fermat wasn't great at maths, at his time, being a mathematician wasn't a job, more like a hobby). More importantly, Fermat never proved his famous theorem (he claims to have known the proof. It is a fact though that it took over 300 years to proof it so it's reasonable to assume that he had a good intuition but may not have been that great at actually writing down the proofs, which given that they are hard is very fair). But more to the point: today doing research in maths is harder in so much, that you have to learn so many things in order to get to the point where you can actually proof something new. And giving up because you will never be as good as Fermat seems ridiculous, but at that point that's still fair, let's chalk it down to imposter syndrome. The point that made me start feeling uncomfortable is, when our protagonist tries some food and it turns into numbers? As in, long decimal numbers or fractions just floating around on the screen. Now, you have to understand that long, complicated numbers aren't actually something mathematicians like to work with. It's more common in applied sciences, say physics or chemistry. Mathematics on the other hand tries to proof abstract concepts and you're glad when the numbers turn up in form of variables or page numbering. So this is already suspicious. The point that broke me was, when it is claimed that his mathematical talent should help our protagonist to reconstruct the recipe for something he tasted. I'm not entirely sure what the connection is here? At this point I just need to assume a fundamental misunderstanding of maths and think that it would have been better to make him be interested in chemistry.

For the cooking part, there are certainly other people more qualified to comment on that, but there's a dish they call "pasta neopolitana" I think and frankly, it's surely decent, but you certainly shouldn't serve it in a restaurant. It seems to consist out of pasta and a sauce made out of fried green paprika, onions, sausages and ketchup. Which might be fine if someone have that particular craving, but certainly not to serve it in a Michelin Star restaurant specialising in French cuisine (both French and Italian people would be horrified!). At this point I could not suspend my disbelief any longer and had to stop watching. I'm sure this show is good in other aspects, it's just so very much not for me.

And please, for the love of god, do a tiny bit of research before you include something mathematical in a movie or show. Especially when it's a central plot point! I'm happy to give pointers if asked (and so would be most other mathematicians, I'm sure!)

[whocaresanymoreamiright]

when did this even start tho like when did i lose my hope?? i think it was like in september already lmao or maybe in october but definitely not later than that. awful. and what did cause it? obviously the binges. and what caused the binges? i honestly have no fucking clue, i can't even remember. i think at first i was just slightly overeating and then it got worse. i honestly can't remember much, those were bad times. these still are. lmao i won't even remember like anything from my teenage years, so fun lol.

anyway, so what caused this downward spiral??? therapy wasn't good. it made me feel awful about myself. i remember sitting there at the group therapy appointment (tho this happened i think in december not in autumn) while this very kind girl who used to have a restrictive ed was talking abt how she's free now and how she dkesn't need to rly think abt eating too much and she can enjoy her life instead, and i'm just sitting there like wow. like some people can do this. just gain the necessary wight and then go on with their lives. like i used to be underweight too, i was forced to gain weight (like i wanted to gain weight and recover from my ed on my own terms, i had a plan and i could've succeeded if i wasn't fucking forced tk stuff my face all the time i think, bc i was forced i was tracked, my weight, what i eat, everything and it was honestly traumatising) and now here i am lmao i've gained so much more weight and i am struggling so so fucking much. therapy was awful. i was told to just not buy the food i binge on, but i could binge on everything. cocoa powder, or plain rice cakes, mustard or ketchup on it's own, anything. it was so disgusting, now i don't do that now i basically only binge on sweets and bread which is still an awful and big big problem but less disgusting.

also, the things some people said were awful too (i mean my friend's dad, and my dad) and i just feel like everybody is judging me. i am so scared. when are they going to just tell me to step on the scale or that i need to lose weight asap? bc my dad used to think i was overweight (i wasn't) before i lost weight at first, so idk. maybe he thinks that again and he is so disappointed in me. i always disappoint him. he doesn't want me to become a mathematician, he wants me to learn how to code instead and be a programmer or whatever the name of that job is. which is obviously a rly cool job but i love maths so much and i want to study that!! it is the only healthy thing that makes me happy atm.

so yeah i felt like i kept disappointing people and it was awful and only food made me feel a little bit better. i love food. i wish i wasn't so weird about it.

and yeah than it got worse and worse and worse. i also didn't give a shit abt anything but maths and used to stay up all night to study maths and it wasn't helthy neither physically nor mentally. and i kinda ruined myself further. and now here i am.

idk what to do. i am so scared of therapy. i don't want to be told again that having been repeatedly sexually assaulted was my fault too. what could i have done. i was just a girl with no friends and already existing daddy issues. i needed love, and in that desparate state you let the person who is willing to love you do whatever they want to you.

so yaaa. this why i am so confused and not so so full of hope.

[twolittledemons]

Sylvie: Pa showed us a “quote maker”–

Cecile: He said you can force people to say stuff–

Sylvie: Or something like that–

Cecile: So here’s some shit! Oh, and, sorry, there’s a lot–

——————————

Sylvie: ARE YOU-

George: Fucking.

Sylvie: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

George: Fucking.

Sylvie: IDIOT!

Laf: …What was that?

George: Cecile banned Sylvie from swearing, so I’m helping her out.

——————————

Laf: I'm cold.

George: Here, take my hoodie.

*meanwhile*

Sylvie: I'm cold.

Cecile: I can't control the weather, Sylvie.

——————————

*after George gets surgery and is loopy from the anesthesia*

Laf, gesturing to George: Sylvie, look what you did! You made Mom upset!

Cecile: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry!

Sylvie: I’m sorry Mom... :(

George, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

——————————

Laf: Ducks are better than rabbits.

Sylvie: What? Rabbits are adorable. Have you ever been in a fight with a duck? Ducks are jerks.

Cecile: Duck is delicious! Rabbit is all gamey.

Sylvie: We’re not talking about flavour, Cecile!

Cecile: Flavour counts!

Sylvie: Who carries around a duck’s foot for good luck? Anyone?

George: You wrap yourself in a comforter stuffed with rabbit hair. I’ll wrap myself in a comforter stuffed with duck feathers! Who’s cozier?

Sylvie: Okay, but-

George: NO, NO, NO, NO. WHO’S COZIER?

Cecile: Then why don’t we take a rabbit, a duck, stick ‘em in a cardboard box and let them fight it out!

Sylvie: BECAUSE IT’S ILLEGAL, CECILE!

Cecile: ONLY IF WE BET ON IT, SYLVIE!

Laf: I- Jesus-

——————————

Cecile, Sylvie & Laf: *screaming*

George: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Laf?!

Cecile: Wait, why are you asking Pa that when Sylvie and I are also here?

George: Because Pa wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

——————————

Sylvie: Pa, we're hungry!

Cecile: Pa! What's for dinner?

George: We're hungry, Laf!

Laf, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

——————————

*Everyone is playing a board game together*

Laf: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'.

George: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'.

Cecile: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'.

Sylvie: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'.

Cecile: *flips the board*

——————————

Laf: Do you know the ABCs of first aid?

Cecile: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.

——————————

George, throwing a pokeball at Sylvie: Sylvie, I choose you!

Sylvie, not looking up from her book and catching it: You need an Ultra ball to catch this Legendary Pokémon.

——————————

George: Laf! I can't do this stupid math!

Laf: What’s the math problem?

George: Well, we have to add the bed, subtract the clothes divide the legs, and hope we don’t multiply.

Cecile, covering Sylvie’s ears, while Laf smacks George upside the head: Not gonna lie that was hella smooth.

——————————

Cecile: My stomach growled super loud in French.

Cecile: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class.

Laf: Bonjour.

Sylvie: Le growl.

George: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

——————————

Laf: How late were you up last night?

Cecile & Sylvie, in tandem: Me?

Laf: No, not you two. You stay up late all the time.

Laf, to George: You.

——————————

Laf: This food is too hot... I cant eat it.

George: You’re very hot, and I still eat you.

Everyone at the table: *silence*

Cecile: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!

Sylvie: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!

——————————

Cecile: Good. Thanks, dad.

George: You just called Laf “dad”. You just said “thanks, dad.”

Cecile: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man”.

Laf: Do you see me as a father figure, Cecile?

Cecile: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me.

Sylvie: Hey! Show your father some respect!

——————————

George: *tapping fingers on table*

Laf: *taps fingers back furiously*

Cecile: …What’s going on?

Sylvie: Morse code. They’re talking.

George: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … -

Laf: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

[Translation: Yur The Cutest]

——————————

Cecile: LOWERCASE LETTERS ARE FOR THE LOWER CLASS!

George: And here we have a capitalist.

Laf: Did you just-

Sylvie: Let us all take a moment to appreciate that all of human history, human language, and the universe itself aligned to make this joke possible.

——————————

Laf: I give up. I am so tired.

Sylvie: Get the emergency supply!

George: *carries Cecile and places her in front of Laf*

Cecile: *smiles*

Laf: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

——————————

*The girls are learning CPR on a test dummy*

George: So, assessing the situation. Are they breathing?

Sylvie: No, Dad. They are not breathing. And they have no arms or legs.

George: No, that’s not part of it—

Sylvie: Where are they? You know what? If we come across somebody with no arms or legs do we bother resuscitating them? I mean, what kind of quality of life do we have there?

Cecile: I would want to live with no legs.

Sylvie: How about no arms? No arms or legs is basically how you exist right now, Cecile. You don’t do anything.

George: All right, well, lets get back to it. ‘Cause you’re losing him.

Sylvie: *pumps frantically*

George: Okay, too fast. Everyone, we need to pump at a pace of a 100 beats per minute.

Sylvie: Okay, that’s uh, hard to keep track. How many is that per hour?

Laf: How’s that gonna help you?

Sylvie: I will divide and then count to it.

Laf: Right.

George: Okay. Well, a good trick is to pump to the tune of ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees. Do you know that song?

Sylvie: Yes, yes I do. I love that song. *clears throat, begins to sing* First I was afraid, I was petrified.

——————————

George: Why do you act like we’re three year olds?

Laf, exasperated: WHY?!?

Laf points at Cecile: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR!

Laf points at Sylvie: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK!

Laf points at George: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND!

Laf: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

——————————

Cecile: *falls down the stairs*

Laf: Are you okay?

George: Stop falling down the stairs!

Sylvie: How’d the ground taste?

——————————

George: Subs are so fun to play with. All you have to do is hint at what you might do, back them into a corner with a look, or grab their wrist in a certain way and they're a wide-eyed mess.

Cecile: What the fuck kind of Subway are you going to?

Sylvie: Substitute teachers deal with so much shit.

Laf: Girls.

——————————

Sylvie: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

George: Put spaghetti in it.

Sylvie: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Cecile: Put spaghetti in it.

Sylvie: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Laf: Put spaghetti in it.

Sylvie: I am no longer taking suggestions.

——————————

Laf: Are you laughing at that video of Cecile and Sylvie fighting?

George: No.

George: I'm laughing at the comments.

——————————

George: Today at 7 am, Laf poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Sylvie: I watched Pa brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.

Cecile: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me.

——————————

Laf: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?

George: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Laf: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.

George: But I heard a siren.

Cecile: That was Sylvie.

Sylvie: Sorry, I got nervous.

——————————

Sylvie: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.

Laf: Throw rocks at he.

George: Hot Dogs.

Cecile: Kill him.

Sylvie: Thanks guys.

——————————

George: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Sylvie, Laf, & Cecile: Okay.

George: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Laf: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Sylvie: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Cecile: Bold of you to assume I can die.

——————————

George: Yesterday, I watched Cecile try to eat a decorative rock from Sylvie's potted plant. Laf caught her, and told her she can't eat rocks. Cecile started whining something about no food being in the house before walking away.

——————————

Laf, watching Cecile and Sylvie fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?

George, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other.

Laf: Then... who’s the strongest out of you three?

Cecile: Dad.

Sylvie: Dad.

George: Me.

——————————

*Laf is in the kitchen and he hears a crash from the living room*

Laf, running into the living room: WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED HERE?!?!

Cecile, looking at the broken TV screen and the remote on the floor: I was trying to throw the remote onto the TV stand!

Laf: And Dad didn’t stop you?!

Cecile, pointing at a sleeping George: He’s been asleep for the past three hours.

Sylvie, walking in, oblivious to the situation: Hey guys-

Sylvie, realizing: Wait, is the TV broken? Why?!

Laf, pointing at Cecile: She threw the remote onto the TV stand.

Sylvie: Come on! That’s the 5th time this week and it’s 2 in the morning on a Tuesday!

George, waking up to see the situation: *yawns* How long was I out?

George, seeing the broken TV: OH GOD NOT AGAIN! CECILE, I TOLD YOU NOT TO!

Cecile: You were asleep! And I always take a window of opportunity when I see it!

Laf, George & Sylvie, in unison: But you broke the-

Cecile: My work here is done. If anyone asks, I was never. *dashes out of the living room*

——————————

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

George, with Cecile and Sylvie behind him: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

George: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

George: Laf FUCKING FELL OFF!

——————————

Laf: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos.

Sylvie: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard.

Cecile: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos?

George: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

[bangtanpromptsfics]

moonflower.

dialogue prompt #6: “It's 3 o'clock in the morning”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationships, fluff

word count: 1,550

warnings: making out

summary: a 3am walk in the city with your boyfriend

a/n: got this inspiration from an instagram reel and I wanted to transfer that entire feel into this one shot. hope you guys enjoyy and please drop feedbacks it really boosts motivation!! p.s as soon as I completed this, butter official teaser was released SOOOO EXCITED!!!

masterlist

“It's 3 o'clock in the morning”, you take a breath in and resume kissing him, hands tangling in the locks at his nape.

“I know”, he rasps, pulling back to bring your foreheads together, taking a moment to immerse the image of your swollen lips and cold skin of your face “It'll be fun baby”.

You don't know who exactly started kissing. Jungkook came back from his night shift not long ago and he expected you to be asleep. But he was beyond happy to catch you peacefully listening to music and waiting for him, paying attention to arbitrary details of the city still alive below. What began as a welcome kiss soon turned into a brief makeout-session, the first press of his lips against yours truly reminding how much you missed Jungkook throughout the day.

And during small breaks of catching each other's breath, he suggested for a night walk, much like a date since he had been too busy this week.

“Okay”, you huff, still feeling your chest squeezing together to get the normal breathing rate. A smile tugs at his lips and with one final smooch he leaves you to change your clothes into something safe enough for walking through the cold night.

Maybe it's because you had been with Jungkook for so long that you basically adapted a lot of his fashion sense and little habits. When you step out of your small shared apartment, you both look like members of a punk band, all black and leather.

Jungkook smiles down at you, remembering how much you have changed, it felt like you grew bored of colors as well, much of your aesthetics going monochrome at this point. There was a time Jungkook even went worried about it, thinking you were somehow adjusting to him. But you reassured him that he was all the color in your life you needed.

Jungkook interlocks fingers with you, squeezing palms together as he leads the way down stairs.

“Where are we going exactly?”, you ask, an obvious curiosity he hasn't clarified yet.

“I don't know really. We'll figure that out”.

He always had a way with words which made you warm and curious at the same time. You just smile in return and wrap your hands around his leather clad arms and walk along.

You liked this. Dates with no particular destination to be in. Just strolling till your legs are tired, eating street food, getting coffee together or studying at the public library because your apartment is located at a not so silent heart of the city.

And you liked Jungkook very much too. It sometimes feels like lopsided that it demands to overflow from underneath your skin, and sometimes when you are making love to him or cuddling his head close to your chest, you believe he feels it too.

It hits you all of a sudden that you never shared those three words. Never ever uttered them in this two years of relationship and you question them now. Totally random of a realisation just like the day you woke up in a cold sweat accepting to self that you have to confess to Jungkook.

The first place you stop by is a heavily packed food truck selling korean food. It's a usually visited one so Jungkook ask for the customary meal, fire noodles. His favorite of street foods not because there wasn't anything better, he just adored your blush flushed face when you are done.

“Babe?”, he tears open the ketchup and squeezes the content with his chopsticks while watching you, “you good?”.

Apparently you had spaced out, still fueling on the thread of thoughts from earlier. You ground yourself to the present in a jolt, “I'm alright”. You give him a nervous smile.

Jungkook pulls his chair close to yours so that your arms and knees are touching, your skin growing hot despite not touching your noodles yet.

“What are you thinking about hm?”, he demands to know, but not intimidating you more than the point. He busies his hands mixing the ketchup into your noodles instead.

“I love you Jungkook”, you blurt, eyes planted on a random spot on the ground waiting for an outcome.

“And you realized that now baby?”, he chuckles, watching you all shy. He places his noodles from his lap to the table in front to fully face your direction.

“I love you too baby, so much. And I've said that so many times before, when you are sleeping, or when you were not listening. I think I was not as brave as you”, he confesses.

Your chest swells in warmth knowing he had always told you this. You peck his nose and dig into the food, finally able to feel the hunger settling down.

Content with the late night meal, you begin to stroll again after Jungkook laughs and cups your flushed red face. You always hated spicy food as a child but then this is another one of those quirks you caught up being Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“Where do you wanna go baby”, he asks, feeling lost of a trajectory for the date and now you are equally lost too, dwelled in the fact that he will lead the night.

“I don't know”, you state and at the sight of a specific place you continue, “wanna get some drinks?”.

Jungkook immediately giggles, “We both know you lose your mind over half a glass of rum love”.

You knit your brows together for a pout, “Well then you can carry me back home can't you? That would be romantic”, you press yourself to him for no apparent reason.

“Carry you all the way home?”, he muses, holding your whining head softly on his palms while pecking your forehead.

“C’mon Koo then why do you workout for three hours all day? Make some use of your muscle”

“Oh I make plenty use of these muscles and you know it”, he teases back and you smack his arms in response.

After a few very cliche comebacks you both agree to drink the night away. Good thing that Jungkook had a good tolerance to alcohol among you two. Carrying his drunk body single handedly for a smaller human like you would be a tedious task. The math was correct here, and so you start slurping your glass of whatever cheap whiskey they had.

You were enjoying all of this, truly to the core and to the point that you swore there is nothing better to life than this. But Jungkook always felt otherwise.

You see, you are not a rich couple. Just normal millenials who go to college supported with scholarships and debts to pay, several part time jobs and a very low key life where you prioritise your expenses and plan finance together. A couple who has not went on classy restaurant dates in glittery tight fitting dress, or even a sundress and expensive suits. He always wonders about the things that could make you happier and maybe one day he can afford that Italian restaurant you once said is really nice because your sister was proposed by her husband there. You'll look so beautiful in a dress and he can't wait to allure on that.

“Koo?”, you slur, already feeling consciousness leaving your body, “What are you thinking about now hmm?”

He smiles faintly at you swirling his drink and bringing it to his lips to think upon the answer a bit.

“Nothing babe. You look so beautiful right now”, he says.

And immediately you search for a reflecting surface to check yourself out, and that's because you're drunk. Your more sober self usually ends up processing a lot of butterflies at the pit of your tummy.

“I am!?”, you beam, finally able to see a very blurred something of your bummed out face with hair falling over and maybe there's even a little dried drool at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah”, he giggles, scooping you up in his arms for a tight hug, “Let's get home shall we?”

“Carry me pwese”

“C’mon love”, he helps you climb on his back for a piggyback ride, “I'll carry you”.

You tug your limbs a little tighter around Jungkook, he pats under your thigh to loosen up so he can walk. He listens to random mumbles you are whispering to him and he smiles occasionally, carefully paying attention to everything.

“I love you so much sometimes I don't know what to do with myself”, you say and Jungkook stops dead in his track to process the words a bit.

His skin turns red which you can't see and probably you wouldn't mutter such things on your sobering. And he is glad. Glad to know that you are content with what it is. His mind stirs around, his own set of booze blazing the thought further.

“Why did you stop Koo? You tired? Should I carry you?”

“You love me that much?”, he asks, completely dodging your questions.

“Yes. So much”, you kiss his cheeks, pressing down harder then usual to prove your point.

He is convinced you are the one who has a way with the words. You say things which brings him to his knees and you remain so oblivious to it.

“Let's get you home”, he states through a smile.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[wormstacheangel]

Not A Date

wc: 1k tags: megstiel

thanks @icefire149 i needed some motivation to write again :)

Meg couldn’t help but stare across the table, her eyes falling on the broken halo across from her that was probably still going on about ketchup. She always had such a hard time saying no to those puppy dog eyes that looked at her so pathetic and yet still so powerful. So this is why she is sitting at a crappy old diner in the middle of nowhere eating whatever garbage they placed in front of them. Because McDreamy over there decided to pop on over to ask for a favor.

“Well, add this to the top five worst dates I ever been in.” She poked her food with the fork and couldn’t help but make a face at it. “I swear they gave us better food in hell.”

“This is not a date.”

Meg ignored him. Reaching across the table to run her fingers over his hand. “At least the company is nice.”

He pulled away, blushing and annoyed just like she likes him, before repeating himself. “It is not a date, Meg. We are working.”

“A girl can dream, Clearance.”

“Yes. Well,” He cleared his throat before picking up the mug of coffee with both his huge hands—she admired them each second she could—and he looked up at the ceiling. Angels do know how to be subtle. “Not now. You said you would help me.”

“And I will! Come on, Castiel, do I ever let you down?” She was teasing him, but her heart couldn’t help but flutter when his eyes fell upon her. She could never get used to the warmth that rises on her cheek when his stupid kind eyes look at her with such sincerity.

So gentle and kind. It was making her feel stupid all over again.

“No.” He says it so easily. As if it was true. It frustrated her.

She looked away when he started chuckling. “Is my honesty affecting you, Meg?”

“No!” She said it too quickly for it to be believable, and he continued to laugh, teasing her right back. “Shut up.”

He does so. Holding in his giggles, but the smile never falls from his lips. “Should we go back to business then?”

She didn’t say anything, but he continued to talk about whatever they were supposed to be doing.

She wondered if Cas could hear her thoughts but knew he respected her enough not to do that shit—which was fucking crazy to even think about. God themselves created this angel, and he respects her even though she is nothing.

“Meg?” He reaches over without hesitation, placing a firm hand over her own while catching her far away gaze. “If you’re worried, don’t be. I will never let anything happen to you.”

It was her turn to pull away. “My hero.” With that, she got up from her seat and started to walk towards the exit. “Come on, boy wonder. We don’t have all night.”

She didn’t have to look behind her to know he was following close behind. He probably left a big tip too, cause he has a heart of gold. Or maybe didn’t know math.

A long night later, but with a weapon saved from the hands of evil or whatever, they finally made it back to the ugly car alive. Well, she felt like shit, getting beat up and tossed around like a rag doll does that to a gal, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She wasn’t one to ever complain about minor scrapes here and there. All she wanted now was to go back to her apartment and have a long relaxing bubble bath. Maybe rewatch Friends and hate on Ross for a bit.

She felt a hand tug on her arm, but before she could attack, she was feeling the warm burning of grace healing her. Something so pure ran through her, and it felt wrong after everything she had done. Everything she is.

“Meg?” His hand ran down her arm and held her own. “Sorry I couldn’t protect you well enough. Thank you for saving me from the trap.”

“Yeah, well, they expected a big scary angel. Not me.” She was going to pull away, complain about being healed against her will, but his hand only held her tighter. “What are you…?”

He opened the door for her and helped her inside his dumb car. She looked up at him when she sat down, still confused, but words got trapped in her throat when he leaned down to her level. Their faces were only inches apart, and she was weak for it.

Her fist balled up to fist at her side, but she couldn’t stop herself from staring at those lips as they moved.

“I was thinking, now that we are done. We go on that…date? If you,” He tilts his head to the side to catch her gaze; he looked so bright smiling at her like she was important. “Meg? Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Yes. “We gonna get a room?”

He chuckled, low and deep, before taking a step back and letting her catch her breath that she didn’t need. “How about a movie first?”

“Lame.” She responded, ignoring how her heart raced at the idea of a regular date with him.

“So it’s a date?”

He didn’t have to sound so hopeful. “As long as I get my fun later, call it whatever you want.”

“Good.” He closes the door and makes his way around the car. She thinks about leaving in that very second, but at the same time, “I have only seen these dates in movies so forgive me if I am not good at them.” He reaches to take her hand as he starts the car.

So cheesy, she thinks but only holds his hand tighter.

“I think you’ll do just fine.” She tells him, not looking over when she feels his gaze on her.

Maybe one day, she will learn to meet that gaze with the same intense sincerity, but right now, she just let it overwhelm her.

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!

Percy's POV

My name is Percy Jackson.

I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.

On this trip, I was determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.

Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.

He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"

It comes out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"

My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.

"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover mutters.

"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.

"About the Titans?"

'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."

Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"

I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.

"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looks at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.

I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently, that wasn't the plan.

I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery is empty.

Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.

I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shakes the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she's talking about.

All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demands.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hisses.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.

With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.

She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.

Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.

The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.

I'm alone.

There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.

My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I walk back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I answer, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.

She just rolls her eyes and turns away.

I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."

Thunder booms overhead.

I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I go over to him.

He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stares blankly at me, "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Word Count: 3159 words

So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.

Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.

Love y'all!              Kaitlynn ❤️😍

[beelsfeels]

Obey Me Brothers React to a Gen z MC

To the beautiful person who sent me this request, I straight up accidentally deleted this ask halfway through writing it, I’m so sorry. That’s what I get for trying to use Tumblr Mobile.  However, the prompt was:

"How would The Brothers react to a GN MC who is a Gen Z, and has a very dark sense of humor, but like is too scared to ask for extra ketchup from a restaurant."

Lucifer

- The most confused of all the brothers - HATES chaos and MC is constantly there to say the craziest stuff, MC gives this man heartburn 5sure. "MC, You must do your tasks. Don't Disappoint Diavolo." "okay, boomer." "I beg your pardon?" "Then beg." - after that interaction, get ready to either throw hands or book it to Purgatory hall, RIP. - Is constantly amazed by the lack of fear they have around him and his brothers, but also saw them drop a pen in class, and as it rolled away they just say there awkwardly until class was over to go get it. -"MC, Would you please call and order takeout from Hell's Kitchen, and ask for extra hell sauce." -"Would you please consider just eating me instead?"

Mammon

- This greedy boy gets it. He, too is constantly faced with the possibility of death and laughs it off most of the time. - As MC'S protector is concerned about the amount of times MC has thrown hands at demons who were being rude to their classmates. - Whatdya got some kinda death wish?? - Text from Mammon: MC, I Have this great Plan, now there is a slight chance we might die but here me out... MC, immediately: I'm in. - MC once kicked Mammon in the chest for taking something out of his room, and he was so impressed he became significantly less worried about their fighting skills. - Lots of "good morning Mammon, let's make this bread." Texts

Leviathan

- Thinks your dark humor is super normie behavior, but absolutely loves it. - "Leviathan, What I love about water is how many problems you can solve with it. Thirsty? Drink some water. Dirty? Take a shower. Hate someone? Drown them."  "I'm actually more interested in sea animals but... You're not wrong?" -One time MC asked Leviathan "What that tail do" - Leviathan couldn't breathe for like a week. - When these two are together, they are physically incapable of asking Anyone for Literally Anything. - Both of them literally say RIP to everything Mammon says in the group chat.

Satan

- As the Avatar of wrath, this man has a lot of self depreciating feelings, so he worries MC's dark humor is hiding a lot of self hatred. -"MC, Lucifer is going to kill you if you do that." “Bold of you to assume I'm afraid to die."

- MC's constant human world Satan references drive him crazy.

“Not today, Satan." "MC, I Just asked you to pass the hell sauce, please stop saying that." - MC once needed help with their DevilDom history paper and apologized 27 times before actually asking Satan for help. - He's happy to help, he doesn't understand why you're so worried about asking him. "Thanks, Satan. I'm so so sorry, Thank you. I'm sorry." “MC, please just sit down so we can work on this.

Asmodeus

- Does Not Understand -MC, why are you so morbid, come clubbing with me, it'll cheer you up. -"I would go to the club with you, but I have an important meeting with Death, and I can't keep putting it off." -If MC does go out with Asmo, they will be tethered to his side lest they have to meet New People™️ and literally no one wants that.

Beel

- Hates it when MC starts making dark jokes, worries they are depressed and wants to make it better -When in doubt, feed the human - One time MC walked into the living room, spraying whipped cream on their head - "Beel, I don't want to do my math homework, Now's the time, my man. My good dude. Come get this snack." - MC, NO.

Belphie

- Is constantly guilted into doing the things that make MC anxious. "Belphie, can you go ask for a refill for me?" “No, MC. I'm tired." “Look, buddy, if you didn't want to do it, you should have finished the job." - Huffs and scowls, and does it anyway. - low-key gets it, he hates himself a lot, and relates to MC's humor. - One time Belphie brought MC a new pillow and they replied "You're just in time! Please smother me with that." - MC, just take a nap and maybe you’ll calm down.

[a-cupof-jo]

Set Up My Heart Pt. 7

PT. 6 – PT. 7 – PT. 8

College volleyball player!Johnny Suh x reader

Rivals-to-lovers

Fluff and angst

Synopsis: Ever since that fateful day Sophomore year of high school, Johnny Suh had been an insufferable thorn in your side. Once you made it to college you thought the two of you would never have to see each other again. That is, until a sudden school transfer has the entire university buzzing

~~

Your breath caught as you pounded up the steps. The door slammed as you raced into the building and down the hall to your Chemistry lecture. You were very late. Maybe the professor won’t notice. With nearly 200 students crammed into a classroom, it’s a big class. You had stayed up late the night before cramming for a Finance exam you had later today. That means that you slept through your alarm and it wasn’t until Des was leaving for her class that you woke up.

You glanced around the classroom when your eyes settled on a recently familiar seat. Shimmying down the aisle you stepped up to a seat with a backpack sitting in it. The owner of the backpack looked up, “Hey, I wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” Taeil tucked his backpack under his seat.

“Slept through my alarm,” you grumbled as you pulled your notes and a pen out.

 Taeil gave a sympathetic head shake but turned back to the professor. You had been surprised when you found out that Taeil was taking this class. The senior had told you the previous week that it was because he had pushed it off until his final year. He claimed he was fighting the system that told him that a science class was required for his music degree. ‘I get it’s a bachelor’s of science, but how is Chemistry going to make me a better musician?’

You couldn’t give him an answer, but then again you are a history major. How does it tie into yours? You glanced beside Taeil looking for Jungwoo’s unmistakable blonde hair. “It’s Wednesday,” Taeil muttered.

You lean back in your chair. That’s right mister mechanical engineering wasn’t actually a student in this class he only came in on Tuesdays and Fridays to make notes for students he tutors.

Taeil tapped your desk making you sit forward and stop pouting. “Focus so you know what you need to go over with Jungwoo tonight."

You pick up your pen and attempt to follow along with the professor. She was going too fast and instead of understanding what she was saying you sat there just trying to write down the calorimetry problems.

When the class ended you threw down your pen. Taeil reached over to pat your hand. "Rough morning?”

“Understatement of the century,” you shove your pen in your pencil case. “Woke up too late and I have no idea what’s going on in class. Plus I have a finance exam later today that I’m still not entirely ready for.”

“Well would coffee or lunch make you feel better, I have two hours before my next class. Or we could go to the library or a study lounge and we could try to get you feeling more confident?” Taeil waited for you to stand up from your seat. He watched as the next class started to trickle in.

You step out of the aisle and up to the classroom door, “What about both, we can grab something from the union and study there?”

Taeil grins, “That sounds great. You’re paying though.” You give a light shove as you both race out of the building. For a moment, you felt yourself relaxed as you chased Taeil through the quad.

“Watch where you’re going,” you heard a voice yell out panic laced through it. You glanced back at the voice coming from behind you before slamming into something hard. You felt your elbow catch as you tumbled to the ground.

You heard another voice grumble, “Dammit, how hard is it to pay attention to where you’re going. I have an expensive camera- of course.” An unmistakable voice scoffed, “Are you trying to cause problems, Y/n?” Johnny glowered as you turned to glare back. You hadn’t seen him in almost a week. You couldn’t say he was looking great. His eyes had bags and his hair was slightly greasy.

“Are you guys okay,” a taller male with pink hair skidded to a stop in front of you two.

Johnny brushed off his jeans, “No thanks to her.” He jerked his head toward you.

“Look here mister, I don’t know why you feel like you have to-” you were cut off as Taeil rushed into your eyesight.

“Y/n! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize that I had left you behind,” he grabbed your hands and pulled you up. You brushed off your shoulders as Taeil fretted over your state, “What happened? You were beside me just a minute ago?"

You nod to the two standing behind him, "I accidentally ran into Johnny."

Taeil glanced behind him and smiled when he caught eyes with the second man, "Hey, Taeyong, how’s it going?” You watched as the two exchanged pleasantries. Johnny shifted looking back down at his camera pushing several buttons before sighing. “We were just about to grab lunch at the union. You should come with us!” You watched as Johnny’s shoulders bunched up tight.

“Sure! Johnny and I were just finishing up here, so we could definitely join you,” Taeyong grabbed a bag that sat on a nearby bench. “Come on, Johnny!"

Johnny looked like he was going to protest. Taeyong grabbed the camera from Johnny’s neck and put it in the bag. Johnny sighed obviously not able to get out of this.

Taeyong grabbed a hold of Taeil’s arm before dragging him towards the union, "So you know I was thinking,” you heard Taeyong start talking about a piece of music with Taeil.

Johnny stepped up next to you, “Look,” he ran a hand through his hair, his face pinched. “I just wanted to say.”

“I’m not happy about this either so why don’t we just get this over with so we both can be on our merry way,” you snapped.

Johnny’s face morphed his eyes narrowed and his lips tightened, “Glad we’re on the same page.” He turned away from you and you finished your journey in silence.

~~

“We’re really happy with the track you made for us,” Taeyong smiled at Taeil from across the table. “Seriously I could never thank you enough."

Taeil waved him off, "I’m using it for my composition class. I’m just glad you guys are able to use it."

You turned to the book you had laid out on the table in from of you. The notebook sitting on top of it showing recent notes you had taken. You clicked your pen as you attempted to solve a math equation. The paper crinkled as you scribbled across it.

"You have to make sure you add in the overhead cost,” your head snapped up to Johnny who had sat across from you. “Then you can take it from annual costs. You’ve got the rest of it right."

You frowned at him before writing down what he said, "It’s correct.” You stared at him wide eyed.

“Woah, Johnny knows finance,” Taeil and Taeyong turned from their conversation to you two. “I didn’t think you were in Finance though?” Taeyong eyebrows pinched together.

Johnny shook his head, his dark hair flying in all different directions, “I was. I took a couple of business classes before switching to journalism. Finance just happened to be one.” Johnny turned back to you slightly, “Just thought I’d try to be some help. You seemed like you were struggling with that problem."

You wanted to glare at him. To tell him that you don’t need any help, especially not his. Who was he to decide that you needed help. Even if he did get you to the right answer he didn’t need to step in. He never had before. You gave him a tense smile, "Thank you, I have an exam today that I’m cramming for."

Johnny smiled back. His less tense and closer to genuine, "No problem, let me know if I can try to help you with something else."

You gave him a slight nod as you went back to your work. "So is that why you transferred here? I didn’t think NCU’s journalism program was that good. Actually, isn’t SMU’s the top program in the region.” Taeyong dipped a french fry in ketchup.

Johnny shrugged as he played with the food still on his plate, “I had no choice, well that’s not completely true, but on a sports team when a player gets injured they become a money hole. It was either stay at SMU and be off the volleyball team or go through PT, transfer, and maybe have a chance of playing again. NCU was just one of the universities that was willing to put me on the roster."

You kept your head ducked as you listened to their conversation. Taeyong had leaned forward, his head now sitting on the table, "So, why NCU? I mean you said this was just one of the options.”

Johnny nodded, “Yeah, it was between here, UofE, and RCU. A guy I knew at SMU said he had a friend that goes here and got me hooked up with him. Just so happens that guy,Jaehyun, was looking for another roommate. Plus, NCU doesn’t have an awful journalism program so I ended up here. To be honest, I like it here much more than SMU."

Taeil nudged your elbow catching your attention. You hummed as you resumed your studying, "You doing okay there?” He peered over you shoulder attempting to read your handwriting.

“Yeah, I think that I should do fine,” you grinned lightly. “I think I was more stressed out about it than I should have been."

He nodded at you before turning back to Johnny, “So you’re here. Now how do you know Taeyong?”

“We met in a photography class! I need it for my electives and Johnny’s specialization is photojournalism,” Taeyong perked up. “We sat by each other Johnny’s first day.” That intrigued you. A memory of Johnny standing in front of you camera flashing and pencil scratching danced around your head.

Johnny hummed as he pushed buttons on his camera, “We have an assignment for still life photography and I asked Tae if he could be my model.”

“You liked photography in High School also,” you hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but you had watched as Johnny lit up with talking about his class. The stares that the table gave you told you that you shouldn’t have said that. “Although, your skills as a journalist were shit.” You pulled your backpack from under the table. The book you had open slid closed and into the waiting bag as you panicked. You shouldn’t have said anything.

Johnny fixed you with a look that begged for understanding, “You know that we had a lot of restrictions on what we could write and publish. It all went through the teacher and principals.”

“That didn’t stop you from publishing that article about me now did it,” you hissed. The chair scraped the ground as you stood up. “I bet you loved getting to destroy my name. ‘Volleyball Prodigy Turns Out to be a Fraud’. First article on the sports page.”

Johnny stood up across from you, “Y/n I did not have any-”

“You were the one that interviewed me and used that in the article. Were you not?” You held up a hand to stop him from coming around the table. Johnny opened his mouth to speak, “I don’t want to hear it. You used my pain for your own personal gain. You don’t get to say anything.” You glance up at the ceiling urging the stinging in your eyes to go away. “Taeil, Taeyong thank you for lunch. We’ll have to do this again.” You turned and fled from the table. You had to stop letting him get to you.

Johnny sat heavily on his chair. He ran his hands down his face as he tried to compose yourself. Taeil and Taeyong glared at him from their seats. “I guess I should explain to you how Y/n and I know each other.” Taeil raised an eyebrow at him, “It started in Y/n and my sophomore year of high school.”

~~

tag list: @beyond-gethsemane , @lanadreamie @michplusb @jaxminskale @qianinterprises @stayctday @nanascupid @sadgirlroo

~~

*Reposted from previous blog*

[gardenergulfie]

Babysitting a Demigod chapter 2

Rating: G

Word Count: 4578

Chapters: 2/4

Relationships: Fluctra & drewtunes, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, drewtunes & Taffietv, drewtunes & Erin | ItsElectra, Erin | ItsElectra/Taffietv, its very minor but we are sticking with canon so its there

Characters: drewtunes, Fluctra, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Taffietv, Erin | ItsElectra,

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Fluff, No Plot/Plotless, Not RPF, Humor, Pov Multiple

Drew made grabby hands with his free hand toward Taffie. Taffie reluctantly allowed Drew to take his hand, placing it palm up. Drew pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in Taffie’s open hand.

It was a fish.

A very real, very wet fish.

Taffie just blinked in confusion at this strange gift. His brain just shut off. The only thing he could say was, “Why?”

“‘Cause you a cat.” Drew stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Cats like fish.”

AO3 link Prev Chapter Next Chapter

Fic below the cut

Taffie’s feet made a soft thump noise as the teleporter deposited him on the roof of the sanctuary. He made his way inside, letting out a deep breath when he reached the inner room. He’d made this journey many times and yet it never stopped being stressful. It didn’t help that he had just gotten out of a rough meeting with the heads of GMC. He really hated those meetings. So much pressure on him as the founder to make all the right decisions. It was better when Poiya was still here but well he couldn’t dwell on that. He had paperwork to do. Taffie actually didn’t hate paperwork that much. Sure, reading all the legal jargon and doing math in his head wasn’t fun but it was better than meetings. Much quieter work.

Taffie settled down against a wall in the sanctuary, bemoaning the lack of comfy chairs. Erin really should have gotten more comfier furniture for their home, er, temporary home. Wait, he was the one who encouraged them to not leave the sanctuary. Ok, that was his bad, but he’s not going to tell them that. He’ll just bring some comfy chairs with him next time he makes the trip here. Safety wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t have nice seating.

Taffie pulled out the first stack of paper and prepared to lose himself in a mess of words and numbers. Ugh, taxes. He sighed. Welp, the sooner he finishes the sooner he can actually relax in his own home.

Some movement caught his eye. Erin’s kid was toddling around the room. Taffie narrowed his eyes. That means that Erin probably isn’t here, Drew’s always hanging around his mom when she’s at the sanctuary. That's good, it would be hard to focus with her here but also bad because sooner or later that kid’s going to come over here and distract him. Maybe if he stays quiet the child won’t see him? Taffie sits as still as he can and just watches Drew do whatever it is kids do. The little kid wobbled over to a chest, hefted open the lid, and pulled out a box of juice. Taffie squinted at the table on the box. Tomato juice? He knew Erin’s parenting style was a bit odd but what parent would let their kid drink tomato juice? Wait actually there’s a high chance that Yahi had been the one to introduce Drew to tomato juice. That chaotic masked man was addicted to ketchup and tomato juice was just ketchup light. Ok criticism of Erin’s parenting style retracted. No one could stop Yahi from committing chaos, not even a former assassin like Erin.

It didn’t seem like Drew was going to bug him, at least not yet, so Taffie went back to his work, ignoring the sounds of Drew drinking his juice. Ah, great, it seems like Ruepa’s trying to dodge taxes again. Seriously, the man thinks that just because he’s a journalist means that he’s immune from paying his taxes. Well, he’s not. If Taffie had his way then Ruepa wouldn’t be in GMC at all, but kicking him out would just mean bad press for Taffie. Hopefully he and Erin can put their plan into motion soon. He really wanted that nosy fucker gone.

Taffie let himself get lost in his work, mindlessly crunching numbers and internally grumbling about the other residents of GMC. He’d never say any of that out loud— that would ruin his image— but it was safe to just think it. Sue him, he had a really bad day. Meetings ran long and Fluctra accused him again of “Conspiring with Erin'' which yes, he was doing that but still she didn’t need to yell at him. Taffie’s ears flattened at the memory but perked up again when he heard a squelching noise coming towards him.

Ah, it seems like Drew was walking towards him again but now soaking wet. Lovely.

Drew walked right up to Taffie and plopped down next to him. Taffie tried to ignore him but ignoring babies is kind of impossible, they just won’t let you. The 2 year old gave Taffie’s tail a weak tug. Taffie pulled it out of his damp fingers and looked down at him.

“What?” Taffie tried to keep his tone level but his annoyance from all of the day’s bullshit seeped into his words. The toddler didn’t flinch at his harsher tone but instead reached into his pocket. Oh no, this kid had a gift for him. On one hand, gifts are always fun and it was a bit heartwarming that Drew had gotten him one. On the other hand, he really doubted that a 2 year old was the best at picking out a gift.

Drew made grabby hands with his free hand toward Taffie. Taffie reluctantly allowed Drew to take his hand, placing it palm up. Drew pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in Taffie’s open hand.

It was a fish.

A very real, very wet fish.

Taffie just blinked in confusion at this strange gift. His brain just shut off. The only thing he could say was, “Why?”

“‘Cause you a cat.” Drew stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Cats like fish.”

“I’m… not a cat.” Taffie’s brain was slowly rebooting. “Why did you think I was a cat?”

Drew pointed up at Taffie’s pink ears. “Cat ears.”

“Drew, I’m a wolf. These are wolf ears.” Taffie told the child. Drew tilted his head in confusion. Taffie would have facepalmed if he wasn’t holding important documents in one hand and a real fish in the other. Why did so many people think he was a cat? He is very clearly a wolf.

Just when Taffie was about to take the time out of his day to explain to Drew the difference between a catperson and a wolfperson he felt a twitch in his hand. He looked down just in time to see the fish twitch.

Taffie shrieked and dropped the fish, scrambling away. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad! He furiously wiped his hand off on his pants, walking backwards away from the still twitching fish. Drew just stared at him before picking up the fish and putting it back in his pocket.

“Drew, where did you get a live fish from?” Taffie gasped out, his heart finally beginning to calm. He didn’t know why a live fish was so much worse than a dead one, it just was ok? Don’t question him. In lieu of an answer Drew just pointed out the window. Right, the indoor lake had fish in it.

Wait.

“You climbed the ladder with a live fish in your pocket?” Taffie asked incredulously. The pond was a whole floor lower! There’s only a ladder leading up or down! There’s not even safety rails! Taffie was really being reminded of how not toddler friendly the sanctuary was. If it wasn’t for the fact that this kid was functionally immortal Taffie was sure that he would have been permadead within the first week of living here.

Drew shook his head rapidly, dark hair falling into his face and exposing tiny horns that Taffie knew would grow to be just like Erin’s. The kid took a step forward and then just went up. How in the world? The fucking toddler can fly now? Or well, float, Taffie guesses. He doesn’t seem to have very good control, with how he smacked his head into the ceiling.

“Ok, the child of a literal god and a half-demon via immaculate conception has weird powers. I really should have seen this coming.” Taffie muttered to himself as Drew slowly floated back down to the floor. “Well, now that we know how you got the fish, we should really put it back. It was a very thoughtful gift, but seeing as I’m not a cat and that fish is very much still alive, we should release it back to its home. That sound good, Drew?” Taffie spoke with his politest business voice that he only really pulled out when he had to be nice to someone he really couldn’t anger. He didn’t think Drew would get angry, but if Taffie was mean, he might tell Erin and that would be bad. He did not want Erin being mad at him. She was scary. It was kinda hot but still, not fun. He’d lost his train of thought. What was he talking about? Right, putting the fish back.

Drew thought on Taffie’s words before nodding and beginning to walk over to the opening that led down to the pond. Before Taffie could say any words of warning, the demigod child jumped. Oh god, did Erin’s kid just die right in front of him? Taffie rushed over to the ledge just in time to hear a muffled splash and see Drew doggy-paddling over to the edge of the pond. Right, water. Thank goodness Erin had gotten this kid some swimming lessons. Taffie inhaled sharply, thankful that he didn’t just witness a child’s demise. Wait, isn't Drew immortal? Taffie felt a little bit dumb for forgetting that, but he was still kinda rattled from the fish incident.

Taffie made his way down to the grassy bottom floor of the sanctuary, taking the ladder because he is not risking that jump. He met up with Drew, who was grabbing fistfuls of sand and throwing them into the pond. Just 2 year old things, Taffie assumed.

“So, Drew, where’s the fish? Did you let it free already?” Taffie asked, stepping a bit closer to the edge of the pond. Drew pulled the still struggling fish out of his pocket and showed it to Taffie.

“Good, now just drop the fish-“ Before Taffie can finish talking, Drew yeeted the fish across the lake. Drew’s tiny toddler muscles mean that the fish doesn’t go very far and in fact lands directly in the middle of the pond before swimming away.

“Yes, I guess that’s one way to do that.” Taffie muttered. “Now that we’ve freed the fish, can we go back inside? There’s some papers I really need to finish working on.”

Drew just looked up at Taffie, already elbow deep in the lake. “No.” He stated simply.

“No? Listen, Drew, I have really important work to get done and I can’t just leave you here alone, even if you’re normally out here alone, so can we please just go back-'' Taffie was once again interrupted by Drew but instead of the kid yeeting a fish across a lake, he has instead decided to splash a wave of water into Taffie’s face. Taffie sputtered, ears pinned back and hair utterly drenched. Ok, maybe the cat comparison was accurate after all, because he really, really hated this. Taffie wiped the water droplets off his glasses in order to see the gleeful look on Drew’s face. Without thinking, Taffie sent a wave of his own straight at Drew’s face.

“Take that!” He yelled, the glee of committing an act of vengeance running through him. Before he could feel even the slightest amount of guilt at committing an act of violence against a toddler, said toddler committed another act of violence by splashing Taffie yet again. Ok, kid, it’s on.

It was war now. Taffie ducked away from Drew’s second splash, leaping up and running to shelter. He grabbed one of Drew’s stay toys as he ran, a bucket for sand, and used it to scoop water for amo. Drew grabbed his own weapon, a toy pistol that shoots water, and began floating into the air. From then on the two went all out, making sure to get each other as soaked as possible. They battled for quite a while, trading blows and making up new plans. Taffie was beginning to think that this battle would never end, but then Drew dropped out of the sky and into Taffie’s arms. The lil dude was worn out from the playtime and also from using a lot of godly magic. Taffie was also tired, and he leaned against one of the pastel trees, dropping Drew down next to him.

“Ha, I win.” Taffie says weakly. “I won a splash war against a toddler. Wow, I sound really pathetic saying that out loud.”

Drew gave him a look that very clearly said, “You are.”

“Well that was actually kind of fun. Who knew that-“ A loud crack interrupted his sentence, and Taffie whipped his head over to the source of the noise. Drew didn’t seem alarmed but Taffie was frightened. Was it one of his many enemies, come to finally assassinate him?

His eyes flashed as he scanned the room only to see the last seconds of invisibility drain away from the person, leaving Erin standing there, wings tucked behind her and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Taffie’s shoulders relaxed, relieved that it wasn’t an enemy of his, before stiffening up again. He was by the pond having a splash fight with Drew, both of them soaked to the bone with water. Oh no, his reputation was doomed. Erin had their hand over their face and was visibly holding back laughter at his disheveled appearance.

“Having fun boys?” They asked in a teasing tone. Taffie just glared at her even when Drew stood up, shook himself to get the water out, and ran over to her, babbling like toddlers do. She cooed and hoisted him up into her arms. “Wasn’t expecting to see both of you playing around in the water when I came back, but I am not complaining.”

“This never leaves this room. Don’t say anything.” Taffie tried to be intimidating but it was ruined by the water seeping out of his hair. Erin just chuckled.

‘Who would I even tell? Don’t worry, Taffie, your secret is safe with me.” They said with a wink. Taffie willed himself not to be flustered as he sulked past them.

“I need to finish my work. Have a good night you two.” Taffie said as he turned back to them both. He tried to reign his tone back to its calm and charismatic norm but it really wasn’t working today. Erin’s expression was still mirthful, even as Drew was starting to chew on her hair.

“You could always just stay. It's getting late and I picked up some fast-food while I was out.” He knew that by picked up she meant stole. “There’s more than enough for all of us. You can always do your work later.” Erin suggested. Taffie opened his mouth to retort but honestly, he’s tired. It had already been a hectic and stressful day and he really didn’t want to do more paperwork. A hot meal with someone he actually likes talking to sounds so much better than working till he can barely stay awake, popping a frozen meal into the oven and passing out before he can even finish eating it.

“…Fine. I’ll stay for dinner. Thank you for the kind offer.” He finally said. Erin’s face lit up with a smile before she squashed it with a neutral expression. For a former assassin Erin really wasn’t the best at not letting her feelings show all over her face.

“That's great. I’ll go start dishing it out. Mind watching Drew for a moment more?” They asked. Taffie scoffed.

“Oh, absolutely not. Please, don’t leave me alone with that hellion.” He said, forgetting to not be rude. Erin outright laughed her signature cackle at that statement.

“And here I was thinking you two were getting along.” She teased. “That's fine. Drew can stay with me. You’ll have to help carry plates though. I won’t have enough hands.” Erin waved her one free hand not holding a 2 year old to make a point. Taffie nodded.

“I can do that.” He said, just happy to not have to babysit any longer. Enough was enough. Taffie relaxed as the two of them started working on dinner, exchanging familiar banter. He remembered why he liked Erin so much, she was fun and brought energy to the room that Taffie couldn’t bring himself. Without the standard tension that surrounded the two of them ever since the disbanding of the Castrators, it was actually nice being around her. Taffie felt his nerves draining away for the first time that day. He needed to visit the Sanctuary more often, even if the risk was high and a small child was there, ready to accost him at any moment. There wasn’t a more relaxing place.

[artificialqueens]

Shining Just the Way I Like (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali works as a roller-skating waitress, and Rosé catches her eye.

A/N: So I saw Denali’s runway, and then gnesis0204 posted about a fic based on it, and somehow the inspiration hit me and this happened today. It’s very fluffy and I really hope you like it!! A million thank you’s to Writ for beta-ing and FaceTiming me to scream with their full reaction. Title from Levitating by Dua Lipa.

The West-Burner Best Burger diner has a sprawling parking lot big enough for dinosaurs to roam, and each of the carhop spots is full, beat-up cars and fancy show-off ones alike all waiting for the golden fries and juicy burgers and thick milkshakes made by the cooking staff inside the brilliant red—well, Denali just has to trust Kahmora that it’s red, due to her slight color-blindness—and white diner. Denali readjusts the red plastic tray, checks for any maniac drivers, and pushes off across the lot, her skates gliding.

The owners, Nina and Tina, are sisters who love a good vintage vibe, and it’s why Denali is roller-skating across the blacktop, her red-and-white striped dress fluttering around her. Being a waitress—let alone one on skates—isn’t always ideal, with the customers who complain that what they ordered is somehow not what they want, or take the dress as an excuse to hit on her, but it pays more than typical waitressing jobs because of the skating factor. Not to mention most customers give her good tips—usually out of pity for the goosebumps on her arms on cold days, or awe over her getting the food there smoothly—and it’s extra skating practice before she can hit the ice for her real skating practice. Not ideal, but not horrible either, and as the sun warms her skin and she skates away from a minivan full of screaming kids with a five-dollar bill tucked in her apron, today feels like a good day.

She rolls inside the back door, nodding a thanks at Symone for holding it open. The inside of the diner is full with the lunch rush, the mix of indoor seating and carhop spots–the only ones around since that Sonic closed–meaning that Nina and Tina have one of the most successful restaurants in the state, with the polished plaque of excellence by the door to prove it.

“Hey, Denali!” Kahmora waves from the kitchen door, quickly catching herself before the water in her hand spills. She’s part of the inside wait staff; Denali’s attempt to teach her skating had only resulted in both of them going down in a mess of skates and scrapes, Nina pouncing on them with her first aid kit.

“Hi, Kahmora.”

“There are so many good-looking people in here today!” she says, cheerfully walking over to Denali.

“Besides me!” Symone calls from the door.

Kahmora rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I’ve flirted with two different tables so far. I’ll be getting that coin today.”

“And maybe a phone number,” Denali says.

“God, I hope.” Kahmora grins and crosses her fingers, and then she’s off, turning to a table with her wide smile shining.

Denali grins. Kahmora is excellent at charming customers, and it works to her advantage as she rakes in the tips. Denali doesn’t have much chance to do that part at the carhops. She just brings people their food and waits for them to give the tray back; there’s no twirling her hair around while she waits for them to order, no drawing hearts on the napkins. It’s straightforward, and it leaves room in her brain to run through her skating routine.

Nina hands her another tray, and Denali glides outside. The feel of roller-skates over blacktop is nowhere as smooth as sharp ice skates over fresh ice, and the loud chatting in cars she passes is a far cry from the quiet ice rink, but Denali can’t resist a little twirl here and there like she’s on the ice, relishing in their perfection even if she doesn’t have to be perfect out here.

She pulls to a stop by a black car, Lady Gaga trickling softly through the open window. There’s a woman in the passenger seat and one in the back, but Denali can’t look away from the beautiful driver. She has soft pink hair and bright eyes that look green one second and hazel the next. She smiles, and Denali almost drops the tray.

“Wh—what can I get you?” Denali asks, because that’s the first thing that pops into her brain.

“Um … I think we already ordered?” The pink-haired woman says, and Denali remembers that she’s quite literally holding a tray with their order on it.

“Right. My bad.” Denali stammers as she slips the tray through the window, cheeks as pink as the woman’s hair.

“No worries.” There’s that smile again, and Denali’s knees wobble like they’ve forgotten the steadiness years of skating gave them. “I get flustered around pretty girls too.”

“No kidding,” mutters the brunette in the backseat, reaching for her food.

“Eat your chicken tenders, Jan,” the pink-haired woman snaps.

“Well, if Lagoona didn’t steal my honey mustard like she stole my shirt last week—“

Denali holds in a laugh as a packet of sauce is launched into the backseat, with a snarled promise that the brunette will get her damn shirt back.

“Don’t mind them,” the driver says, a warm pink clinging to her cheeks too.

“Of course.” Denali pauses as her heart skips a beat, grasping on to any bit of courage she has. “What was that you were saying about me being pretty?”

“Actually, I was saying that I’m pretty and I don’t blame you for being flustered.” The woman in the passenger seat makes a gagging noise, and the driver elbows her before giving another smile, glint in her eyes making Denali flash her dimples. “But you’re pretty too.”

“I know.” Denali grins as she twirls brown hair around her finger, because why not? Those hazel-green eyes are locked on her, the driver leaning forward so far she’s almost out the window, hanging on every word Denali says.

She laughs, and Denali would do anything to hear it again.

“I’m Rosé.”

“Denali.”

“Denali,” she repeats softly, and it sounds nicer on her lips than on Denali’s own, like Rosé is treasuring getting to say it. “So, you—you really skate and stuff?”

“Yep.” Denali flexes her ankle, modeling her skates like she’s on the ice, even if Rosé can’t see. “I’m an ice skater, actually.”

“Wow.”

Denali snorts. “Yeah.”

“Are you—“

“Do you work here? I need more ketchup, and don’t think I won’t call a manager.” Denali spins around to find the source of the noise: an angry woman stalking over to Denali like a lion cornering its prey, her minivan door still open.

Denali winces, and Rosé’s face softens in sympathy. “I better let you go,” she says sadly, passing over the tray. “Good luck with her.”

“Thanks.” Denali sighs.

“Oh, and this is for you.” She hands Denali some folded bills with one last smile. “I’ll see you, okay?”

“See you.” The woman’s lion jaws are about to snap around Denali, and she quickly leaves the car and intercepts her. She doesn’t even look at the tip Rosé gave her until she’s on break, and is shocked to find fifteen dollars. A fifteen dollar tip on a twenty-five dollar order is–well, Denali can’t do math but she knows it’s a lot; it’s more than she’d get from four cars put together. Not to mention the brilliant smiles Rosé kept giving her, worthy of being a tip themselves. It’s definitely a good day, one clouded over with cotton candy pink hair.

—-

Days go by, and Denali is so busy scanning the parking lot for any hint of pink hair that she actually trips on a rock and falls one day. Luckily there’s no food in her hands, and she brushes off everyone’s concerns, commanding her brain to focus on work instead of women with pink hair.

Maybe Rosé thought about it and decided she doesn’t like Denali after all, will do anything she can to avoid the diner. Maybe it was all just a joke from the start. But Denali doesn’t think so. Rosé’s eyes never left her, even with the chaos in her car, like she didn’t want to miss a moment of Denali. So when is she coming back? When will Denali see that smile again?

It’s been a week, and Denali’s about to skate into the breakroom when Nina corners her, a strawberry milkshake in one hand and a chocolate in the other. “Denali, can you bring these out to number two quick?”

She doesn’t want to turn down Nina, so she just nods. Number two is the only carhop spot filled, so there’s no chance of other customers chasing her down. It’s 3:00, that calm period in between the lunch rush and dinner rush, with just stragglers now and then stopping for a snack or shake. The car’s window rolls down to reveal the pink hair that hasn’t left Denali’s mind in a week.

“You’re back!”

“I’m back.” Rosé’s smile outshines the sun, and Denali grins too.

Her warm palms might melt the milkshakes, and she hands them to Rosé. Denali notices finally that the car is empty, and confusion sparks in her. Why did Rosé order two milkshakes for herself, and why is she sitting there holding them both, opening and closing her mouth like she wants to say something?

“Two milkshakes for you?” Denali asks. “I’m not judging, just–”

Rosé bites her lip. “Actually, one is for you.”

Denali’s mouth hangs open, and as much as she wants to fly to the passenger side of the car, her legs are a bit too jelly-like to support her.

Rosé’s eyes widen with worry. “Shit, you like chocolate, right? I just guessed. I mean, who doesn’t like chocolate–”

“I love chocolate,” Denali says, heart melting at Rosé’s sigh of relief. She rolls to the passenger door and slips onto the seat, and she’s so close to Rosé. There’s no car door in between them anymore. Instead, they’re both in this car together, and Rosé smells like vanilla and her eyes are even brighter than Denali thought, and she never wants to leave this car.

They clink their plastic cups and sip their drinks, and Denali spends each second of her break taking in all she can of Rosé, from how she loves to sing and was born in Scotland, all the way to how she slurps up every last drop of her milkshake and always keeps her hand close to Denali’s.

When Denali’s alarm goes off, telling her to get back to work, she chugs the last of her shake and sighs. “This was really nice,” she says.

“Yeah,” Rosé agress. She raises an eyebrow. “I think it needed to be longer, don’t you?”

Denali’s heart flutters. “A lot longer.”

“Does this Saturday at seven work? It can be as long as we want.”

Denali doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s a date.”

[jonathanvik]

Starlight Dream - Chapter 8

“Yes, suffer more!” A girl hiding behind a pillar said, watching her evil plan coming into motion. Emiyo watched from the sidelines expectantly, curious.

Emiyo waited and waited, but still, nobody screamed or howled in pain. She scanned around the packed food court and saw people going about their usual daily lives, laughing and having fun. Everything seemed normal, making Emiyo furrow her brow in confusion.

“Yes! Their suffering is so perfect!” The girl said again, her fairy partner smirking in satisfaction. The girl was a tiny thing, standing shorter than most pre-teen-aged girls. Her hair was bright pink, cut into a quick bob.

“Am I missing something?” Emiyo intensified her search, but found nothing but an average day at the mall.

“I don’t see anyone dead or unconscious.” Nyx flew around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. “It must be so subtle it’s invisible!”

“What, come on!” An annoyed teenage boy with pimples said behind a counter at a burger place. “I just filled that!”

“Hey, what gives? Where’s the ketchup? I’m in a hurry!” A customer said. “My movie starts in ten minutes!”

The boy winced. “Sorry, sir. I’ll get some right away.”

“Victory!” The girl said, her fist pumping upwards.

“Victory in what, exactly?” Emiyo asked behind the girl, who yelped in surprise.

“Emiyo, uh, hi! You aren’t usually out in the field.” Himari said, wearing a nervous grin on her face.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you!” Liam, her partner, gave a reassuring smile.

“You never answered my question.”

“You know, magical girl stuff!” Himari said. “Causing all the suffering I can.”

Emiyo gestured to the calm food court, her patience thin. “What suffering?”

“Lots of it! We stole all that store’s condiments.” Liam replied. “Remember how annoyed that man was? He might miss the beginning of his movie! Now that employee needs to refill the condiment stand! What a bother, right?”

Himari gave an emphatic nod. “Right! And that worker got yelled at! No one likes that!”

Emiyo fought the urge to rub her temple, feeling a headache coming on. “This is your idea of suffering? Really?! Suffering is having your body crushed and living in never-ending agony. Suffering is losing everyone you’ve ever loved and having nothing to live for. Suffering is living in a nuclear wasteland!”

“That boy seemed pretty miserable to me,” Himari muttered under her breath.

Himari coughed, regaining her confidence. “I think you’re a little confused. I’m actually playing the long game!”

Despite herself, this piqued Emiyo’s interest. Perhaps she’d misjudged the girl?

“Yeah, nuclear wastelands are great and all, but it’s tacky and too easy.” Himari puffed out her chest. “I’m destroying worlds with a thousand cuts!”

“Sorry, what?”

“It’s simple. I’m causing countless small instances of suffering so they’ll build into something greater and more explosive. People will bottle up their frustration until they burst and cause untold havoc!”

Emiyo’s eye twitched. “This is your brilliant plan, really?”

“Totally evil, right?” The girl and her partner gave an emphatic nod.

In her head, Emiyo’s headache intensified. “No wonder the suffering levels in your universes have only increased by .00000000001 percent.”

“I’m playing the long game.”

“For two hundred years?!”

“The very long game.”

You incompetent little! Emiyo wanted to throttle the girl but kept professional calm. An outburst would be unseemly. “If this is the caliber of sector 8’s magical girls, no wonder the suffering levels haven’t increased much.”

Of sector 8’s magical girls, Himari is one of the few remaining who still lived. Emiyo had found the others dead, killed by the rebel. Why didn’t she save Emiyo the trouble and kill Himari too? It’d be so easy!

“Look, I’m currently assessing the entirety of Sector 8. When I get back, your universes’ suffering better increase by at least twenty percent!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just accelerate my plans somewhat.” Himari pulled out a small vial, smirking. “I plan to put this into the water supply!”

Hope sparked in Emiyo’s heart. Poisoning water was an excellent way to spread fear and panic!

“It makes the water taste funny. Not horrible, but still unpleasant.” Himari said. “It will force people to buy bottled water instead! What a needless expense, right?”

Emiyo put her face into her hands and screamed.

---

Takako howled in pain as her opponent tossed her onto the padded mat.

“Are you okay?” Seina asked, concerned.

“No, it’s fine.” She said, rubbing her bruised arm. Even without her magical girl powers, Seina hit like a truck. Takako returned to her feet, determined to go again. Her pride refused to leave until she’d scored several points against her rival.

“Darn it.” Takako cursed as her back struck the padded floor once again. “I’m much quicker than you. Yet, you keep beating me!” Somehow, the girl seemed more like a wall than a person, deflecting back everything Takako threw against her.

“That’s because you aren’t sticking with what I’ve been teaching you.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “You always go for the dirty move rather than the practical one.”

“But it’s totally predictable and lame!” Takako waved a dismissive hand. “Not my style at all.”

Seina smiled. “I suppose, but you always leave yourself wide open. You aren’t working on your defense enough.”

Takako turned away. “Whatever. My genius is too brilliant for you to understand.”

Seina sighed, but a slight smile appeared on her lips. “Okay, Maeko. Fine. Want to go again?”

“Always, best out five?”

Despite her best efforts, Seina still won most exchanges, moving with lighting precision. Yet, Takako didn’t mind it. Instead, it only pushed her to work harder. She hadn’t been this excited in decades. Usually, she found her magical girl duties dull, but she enjoyed the challenge Seina presented. The fighting made her feel alive. It’d be a shame when Seina inevitably died in days ahead, but Takako would enjoy her company until then. They chatted as they walked across town, enjoying the scenery. People were working hard to rebuild, invigorated with a new purpose after the vampire’s fall. Despite herself, their grit and determination impressed Takako.

“Is that the new school?” Aiko looked down towards the skeleton of a building from their vantage point.

Seina flinched. “Yes, Lotus High School.”

“No way! The Prime Minister named a school after you?” Aiko beamed with pride.

“Yeah,” Seina replied, with little enthusiasm. “They wanted to call it Kamiyama High School, but I vetoed that idea. And the statue.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “Please, you deserve some recognition! You saved the world!”

“I guess.” Seina said, still unhappy. Uncle Kenji is adamant I should attend it once it’s finished. Isn’t that the worst, going to a school named after you?”

“Don’t worry, I'll be by your side if anyone bugs you about it.” Aiko puffed out her chest. “Never thought I’d ever attend high school. I’m so looking forward to it. Do you think it’ll be anything like those mangas Maeko likes?”

“I hope so,” Seina said. “Clubs, romance, lunch on the roof, meeting with friends every day. It sounds nice.”

Takako rolled her eyes. The dullest, most ordinary things always infatuated Aiko and Seina. What next? Wanting to attend cram school too? Even thinking about it gave Takako bad memories.

“How about you, Maeko?” Aiko said. “What are you looking forward to in high school?” The two girls looked at her expectantly.

Shows what you know. I’m too old to care about things like high school! She paused, realizing, despite being several hundred years old, she’d never attended high school. Soon, both Seina and Aiko would have a much higher education level than her. Takako had run away from home long before high school age. Not that she cared, of course. Takako was smart enough without it.

“Eh, seems boring if you ask me,” Takako said, not impressed..

“How can you say that after the vampires basically starved us of any education?” Seina said, irritated. “I had to learn basic reading and math in secret! Uncle Kenji had to risk his life to teach me how to add!”

Takako took a step back, surprised by the usually meek girl’s angry outburst. “Okay, okay. Sorry,”

“I’m sorry too.” Seina said.” I lost my temper. It just frustrates me what basic things the vampires denied us. We were just things to them, not even people!”

“I know what you mean,” Aiko said, nodding. “But the vampires can’t stop us now! Humanity can’t be stopped!”

“Right! Oh, I can’t wait for high school to start!” Seina said dreamily. “Mr. Kiyojiro’s tutoring is great, but I want to learn from a real teacher! Uh, no offense, Mr. Kiyojiro.”

“I’m not offended.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, finally joining the conversation. “Teaching from random textbooks is awkward.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not a great teacher.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Any chance to learn!” Seina replied, trying to reassure her bodyguard and tutor. “You’re doing an excellent job teaching me Japanese. It’s my favorite subject. And I’m not too shabby at English either.”

“Private tutor, you’re lucky. I just wish I could understand half of my lessons.” Aiko rolled her eyes. “Ms. Inouye still hasn’t created a coherent study plan yet.”

“Hey, the adults are working hard to teach you youngsters.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “A few kinks in the plan aren’t unexpected. You’ve already lost too many years. How can you become proper adults without the proper education?”

“No argument here.” Aiko said, and Seina nodded.

“Sure, but being a proper adult means getting a job and paying taxes and rent.” Takako said, piping in.

Mr. Kiyojiro coughed into his fist. “Well, yes. But, that’s part of growing up. You can’t stay a child forever.”

“Except, Seina will stay a child forever,” Takako said, pointing out the flaw in the bodyguard’s logic.

“Not in my heart. I can get a job anyway!” Seina said, retorting the point.

“You actually want a job?” Takako asked in disbelief. It sounded like such a needless bother. “You’re a magical girl! There’s nothing stopping you from doing whatever you want.”

“Yes, actually,” Seina replied, puffing out her chest. “I’ll still be an adult, even if I appear ten!”

Colten’s eyes lit in awe. “You’re so responsible, Seina!”

Takako snorted. “Stupid if you ask me.”

“Trust me, Maeko,” Seina said. “Being a magical girl isn’t as appealing as it sounds.”

“Whatever. Well, I better get going.” After all that hard training, Takako wanted to gorge herself on shaved ice and watch some anime.

“Later!” Seina and Aiko waved as she left.

“You’re too comfortable with those two,” Lilha said from an alleyway. “You’d almost think you’d become friends.”

“Friends? Not likely.” Takako was too evil and hardhearted for such nonsense.

“Good,” Lilha replied. “Come. There are matters we need to discuss. It won’t be long until we’re ready.”

“You’re acting already? I’ve barely learned anything. Mr. Kiyojirois still teaching us the basics!”

Lilha raised an eyebrow. “Are we meant to wait years while you play with Seina?”

“We are both immortal.” For someone who was ageless, Lilha certainly was impatient. “Is it that important for you to return to your nightmare world?”

“We are vampires. We rule.”

“Okay, but why ban schools? Why make children work 70-hour weeks?” Takako couldn’t resist asking these questions any further.

“The humans needed to know their place. My husband was always adamant about grinding them down as much as possible.”

“Why? Aren’t these policies more likely to cause humanity’s extinction?”

“It wouldn’t get that far. We’d keep them alive. They are our pets.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why?”

“You’re a magical girl. It’s your job to make people suffer.” Lilha gave her a pointed look, making Takako hesitate. It was true. Why was she caring about this?

“Well?”

“Have you lost your nerve? Don’t you hate Siena as deeply as I do? I’ve seen how she humiliates you. Are you happy always being her inferior?”

Takako stood straighter. “I’m the strongest. Always will be. We will kill Seina.”

“Good. I see no further use in having you train with Seina. You’ve learned enough. I fear you’re getting too cozy with her. It’s time we enact our plan.” Lilha shone with excitement. “By tomorrow, Seina Kamiyama will be dead!”

Takako nodded, realizing her doubts were foolish. This was what they’d agreed upon. She glanced back, watching Seina talking and laughing with her friends without a care in the world. It left a strange bitterness in Takako’s heart. But no, for the sake of the magical girls and Starlight Dream, Seina’s death was necessary. After giving the girl a final look, Takako focused on the task at hand. No more useless doubts or distractions.

---

“A day out? Sounds great!” Seina said. Mr. Kiyojiro had given them the day off, and they were debating how to best spend it.

Aiko beamed. “I know this cute little place that’s becoming really popular. It’s super trendy!”

“Clothes shopping?” Colten sighed from his perch on Seina’s head. “Okay.”

Seina patted her fairy friend on the head. “It won’t be long, then we’ll get some ice cream.”

Colten perked up. “Really?”

Aiko snorted in amusement. “You spoil him too much. Yes, I promise it’ll be quick. I haven’t forgotten you, Colten. I have some activities planned for you too. There’s this street performer I heard about that might interest you. He does Kamishibai.”

Colten’s eyes lit in excitement. It also piqued Seina’s interest. Since DVD players and working TVs were still rare, the art form had reemerged on Osaka’s streets to entertain people. Though because of her training, she hadn’t caught one yet. The art form used still pictures accompanied by the performer, who narrates the story. Her fairy partner bounced on her head, unable to contain his excitement, making Seina giggle.

“Kamishibai?” Maeko said, showing genuine interest. “I haven’t seen one of those in forever.” Mr. Kiyojiro nodded in agreement, also genuinely interested.

Seina blinked. “Really? How?” The vampires were strict about punishing anyone who dared defy their edicts. Even singing could get you killed. Maeko’s past was so bizarre. Did her taskmaster even do his job?

Maeko coughed into her fist. “When I was really young. You know, before the vampires.”

Seina nodded, embarrassed by her misunderstanding. Unfortunately, most of her memories before the darkness were scarce and blurry. Worse, they consisted of people she’d rather not consider. Their presence tainted her childhood worse than anything the vampires had done. It sent blazing furious hatred through her and almost brought tears to her eyes. Why had her parents’ betrayal hurt her so much? Despite trying to forget them, thoughts of them returned at random moments, hurting her all over again. Sensing his partner’s distress, Colten rubbed her back, calming her.

“Are you okay?” Maeko said, worried by Seina’s sudden change in mood.

“It’s fine.” Her parents didn’t matter anymore. Besides, she had a new family and they wouldn’t hurt her as they had.

“There’s this ramen stand that recently opened up. I’d like to try. Would you mind having lunch there?” Mr. Kiyojiro said.

“Sounds great. Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?” Seina felt guilty for dragging her bodyguard around town without his input. Was he as bored by girls shopping as Colten was? But Mr. Kiyojiro only waved his hand, indicating his wishes didn’t matter. After some consideration, Seina decided she’d at least allow him to pick where they’d eat supper too.

“I have a suggestion.” Maeko had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, drawing everyone’s attention. “Before going anywhere else, there’s this manga shop nearby I’d like to try. I heard it sells brand new manga. I’m curious if the rumors are true.”

“Sounds fun.” Aiko replied. “It will give Colten something to read while he’s waiting!”

Brand new manga? That sounded interesting. It brought a smile to Seina’s heart. Little by little, humanity was reclaiming their lives. The vampire’s reign was becoming a distant memory.

“Is this the right place?” Aiko glanced around, eying their surroundings with curiosity. They’d entered a part of Osaka that still remained mostly abandoned. The streets were empty, but Seina couldn’t help but feel she was being watched. Yet, when she looked, she spotted no one around. Odd.

“Just down this alley, and we’ll be there,” Maeko said, pointing towards a colorful sign that showed the shop’s name, Shinobu Manga Emporium. Seina peeked down the alley and saw an open door, seeing shelves of colorful manga ready for purchase.

A sense of wrongness overcame Seina, and she stopped her step. The feeling of being watched intensified, but she still couldn’t locate its source. Aiko picked on her anxiety.

“Is something the matter?” Aiko glaced around, a worried expression on her face.

Maeko snorted. “Nothing’s the matter. It’s just a manga shop.”

She gave her bodyguard a meaningful look, and he nodded in agreement. He’d also sensed the prevailing wrongness. “How about we go somewhere else? This place seems kinda sketchy.” Before Maeko could offer a retort, Seina jumped aside as a humongous axe flew towards where her head had been a moment earlier. It flew past and crashed into a nearby building leveling it with a resounding crash.

A large vampire emerged from literally nowhere, brandishing an axe almost larger than his body. “You got lucky. Next time I won't miss.” Several more muscular vampires emerged, surrounding them. Aiko screamed in terror and hid behind Seina.

Maeko rubbed her temple. “Jentin, you idiot! Your eagerness alerted her to the trap. Never mind. We do this the hard way instead!” Much to Seina’s shock, her friend pulled out a brooch similar to hers. “Change Change, Magical Love Genocide Dress Up!”

What the heck was happening? The veil of illusion disappeared, revealing a face she hadn’t expected. “Takako?”

The dark magical girl smirked. “Is it that shocking? Now be a good girl and die.” She pointed her black pistol point-blank towards Seina’s midsection and fired

[vannahfanfics]

Could I request hearts for Nalu please? ❤️😊

Here you are, dearest! I hope you enjoy! 

Strawberry-Lemon

Natsu’s nose twitched as a heavenly scent wafted up his nose, and, like a demon preparing to rob a baby from its cradle, he squatted on all fours in the frame of Lucy’s window, salivating shamelessly as she aroma drifted in through the entryway of her kitchen. If he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop; whatever she was baking in the kitchen smelled absolutely delectable, and it was making him ravenous. The instant he had caught wind of it on the street, he knew he had to have it. Really, Lucy was all but inviting him in; why else would she leave the windows open and allow it to spill out into the cobblestoned streets? She would’ve known that Natsu would come pestering her on a Saturday; it was ritualistic at this point. Well, Natsu wasn’t about to refuse a downright open invitation for food, now was he?

Lithe as a jungle cat, he hopped down from the windowsill to prowl across the laminate floor of her apartment, swiping his tongue across his lower lip and taking a second to suck up some of the drool leaking from his grinning mouth. Lucy wouldn’t like it if he slobbered all over her floor like a hound dog. His stomach was twisting into knots at the anticipation; it was baying like a hound itself, and he put a hand over his belly, drawing his abs tight in a vain effort to silence its greedy howls. He had no idea what exactly she was making; he only had a clear view of the kitchen table from his perch, not the counters or oven, so he was literally vibrating in suspense. Natsu liked meat best, but sweets were a close second. Could she be making a cake? Cookies? Pastries? Ugh, he had to know and then sink his teeth into whatever it was!

His footfalls were silent as he snuck down the hallway. Just as he had arrived in the entryway, nearly panting like a dog with his pupils shrunk down in voracious desire, his belly gave a particularly adamant yowl of demand. He froze as the gurgling sound echoed in the quiet apartment, staring at Lucy as she jumped and whirled around. She was holding a plastic spatula coated with some pink batter, and it splattered across the countertop and floor with her sudden movement. Natsu’s face slowly turned the color of his hair as he gawked owlishly at her, one leg still hiked up in a tip-toe and his arms held out wide on either side to maintain his balance.

“You didn’t have to sneak in here, you know,” she said finally once she realized it was the dragon-slayer who had come calling. She jutted out a hip, resting her prim little hand on it as she puffed out her cheeks indignantly. “I left the window open for a reason! Jeez, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

A stupidly giddy smile split Natsu’s face at the fact that Lucy had indeed left the window open just for him. His foot fell down to the floor in a happy little scamper. He pranced like a baby deer up to her, green eyes alight with glee as he peeked into the bowl of pink batter she had been stirring before he startled her. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deep, his heightened senses allowing him to discern that the delicious scent he had been so enraptured with was strawberry. No wonder he had been gripped with an overwhelming need; strawberries reminded him of Lucy’s smell. Hers had a slight undertone of lemon, though, which made for an interesting combination that made Natsu’s tongue tingle a little bit every time he caught a whiff of her.

“What are you making?”

“Cupcakes!” she answered jovially with another twirl. She jabbed the spatula back into the bowl of batter to resume stirring it with gusto. “Valentine’s Day is coming up, and so I thought that I might make cupcakes for everyone at the guild.”

“That’s gonna be a lot of cupcakes,” he frowned thoughtfully as he tried to do the math in his head. It proved too daunting a task. It seemed he had arrived before any of the cupcakes were finished, so he walked over to her kitchen table to flip a chair around and straddle it, resting his crossed arms on the chair’s curved back and propping his chin down on the meat of his forearm.

“Where’s Happy?”

“He’s with Wendy and Carla. We were walkin’ and happened to run into ‘em, and they said they were going shopping, so he went with ‘em because Wendy promised to take him to the fish market.” Lucy laughed and said something along the lines of “sounds like him.” Natsu had stopped listening because he was enthralled with the way her body moved as she repeatedly swirled the thick batter around, her arms flexing with each turn. One wouldn’t think it when looking at her, but Lucy was toned; his keen green eyes flickered as he watched the tendons subtly stretch beneath the milky skin of her arms. Her hips bounced a little too as she dug into the batter, trying to eliminate any remaining chunks of powdery batter. Sexy… he thought absentmindedly.

Natsu’s face immediately blazed with a fiery blush again, and he hurriedly jerked his gaze away to the much less interesting bag of flour beside her. Natsu really didn’t know what to do when it came to Lucy. He liked Lucy, a lot; he probably even loved her. He just didn’t understand it all that well. He had never been in love before. He knew that platonic love and romantic love were supposed to be different, but he didn’t know how to act differently to express how he felt. He was handsy and made off-handed comments and such, thinking Lucy may get the hint, but so far it seemed to him that she thought they were really, really good friends. That was true, of course, but it was frustrating because Natsu wasn’t sure how to upgrade.

“There. That oughta do,” Lucy said to herself. He looked back to see her grab a nearby baking ban for heart-shaped cupcakes. With a small grunt, she hoisted the heavy bowl of batter up and began spooning it into the holes. She had clearly made double or even triple the recommended amount in order to feed the whole guild, because the bowl was nearly spilling over with the frothy pink stuff. Natsu’s eyebrows quirked as he noticed her arm begin to tremble violently with the strain of hefting it up, and she began to grow red-faced and out of breath. Wordlessly, he slung his leg over the chair to push himself up and tottered over, easily hooking his arm behind hers to push the bottom of the bowl up with the flat of his hand and reduce the strain on her. “Oh, thank you, Natsu!” she cried, throwing him a grateful, beaming smile. Natsu felt his heart constrict in his chest, and the twisting pain almost made him drop the bowl. God, he loved it when she smiled. It was so gorgeous that it was enough to make a man’s heart halt in his chest.

Lucy filled the pan and they eased the bowl back down onto the counter. Natsu had to try real hard not to stare at her behind as she walked over to the oven to slide the pan in. Natsu didn’t want to figure himself a pervert, but it was so hard when she bent over and it was just… right… there. Oh, God, now he wanted to slap it. Biting down on his knuckles hard enough to draw blood, Natsu whipped around so he wasn’t looking at her anymore, eyes shaking as he blushed hard enough to pop a blood vessel and get a nosebleed. God dammit, why did she have to be so stupidly gorgeous? If she ever got an inkling of the kinds of thoughts he had in his head, she would slap him silly.

“Natsu? You okay?” He nearly jumped a foot in the air as her innocent voice rang over his shoulder. He couldn’t look at her until his blush quieted down, so he just laughed nervously, zooming to the fridge to begin rifling through it without thinking of what he was pretending to look for.

“Yeah, um, I’m just, really thirsty!” he lied quickly as he grabbed random things that were definitely not made for drinking, like a bottle of ketchup and a jar of pickles. Lucy watched him with knitted eyebrows until he picked up a bottle of water and his frazzled brain successfully registered the fact that it was a beverage, in fact made for drinking. He slammed the fridge closed and bolted upright, laughing again before guzzling the entire bottle in about three huge gulps. “Ah, that’s better!” His voice was several octaves higher than normal due to his heightened anxiety. He tossed the bottle at the trashcan, thinking maybe he could look cool after a whole minute of looking like a freak, but it bounced off. He watched with big green eyes as it bounded across the floor only to land right back at his feet. “Goddammit,” he sighed and plucked it up to deliver it to the trashcan like a normal human. Lucy giggled, doing that thing where she held her hand up to her mouth, and Natsu thought he might die.

“Heehee, anyway, would you like to help me make the icing, Natsu?” She waited patiently with an expectant look as his fried brain struggled to process the question. “Yes,” “yes,” you want to say “yes,” Natsu, he reprimanded himself after a moment too long of consideration.

“Er, yeah, I’d love to!” he responded jovially. As she turned around, he shrunk back into himself, biting on his nails. Did he look too excited? It was just frosting, for crying out loud. Lucy didn’t say anything, so he sighed in relief, thinking that she must not be thinking anything of his excitable behavior. He walked back over to stand over her shoulder, watching with curious eyes as she piled the frosting ingredients into the bowl.

“Here! Stir this!” Natsu jumped back as she suddenly whirled around to shove the bowl and a whisk into his hands. He had been standing right behind her, close enough that his breath was puffing over her ear, and if it hadn’t been for his reflexes, the bowl would’ve tipped, and the stuff would’ve gone spilling all down his front. He grabbed the bowl in a white-knuckled grip and began whisking it, trying to keep his cheeks from turning pink again. For a second, he thought Lucy’s cheeks might be pink, too, but she spun around to go check on the rising cupcakes for him to be sure. “Mhmm, they smell so good,” she admired breathily.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to sink my teeth into ‘em,” Natsu growling in appreciation as he continued to lackadaisically swirl the frosting mixture. It was thickening rapidly into a white, gluey paste, requiring him to put a little more backbone than he would imagine putting into whisking frosting. Man, and Lucy does this a lot. This is hard work! He thought as she came over to peek into the bowl. He lowered it so she could inspect it properly.

“You’re doing good.” It was a light compliment but Natsu gushed like a teenage girl about it anyway. “By the way, you only get one! I want to make sure there’s enough for everyone,” she warned him firmly, waggling a finger in his face. He scowled slightly; one measly cupcake wasn’t enough to satiate his rapturous hunger, but he didn’t want to see Lucy upset after all the hard work she was putting in for everyone. “Promise me!”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise, sheesh,” he huffed as she took the bowl from him and set it on the counter. He poked out his lips in a childish pout. “But I’m starving, Lucyyyy…”

“I’ll make you dinner after this is done, okay?”

“Woohoo! You’re the best!” he howled in glee and threw up his arms into the air. She looked over her shoulder at him with a smile and an amused huff. By this time, the cupcakes had finished baking. Lucy removed them from the oven and set them on some potholders, allowing them to cool a bit before plucking them from the molds. They filled the pan with another batch and slipped it into the oven before returning to the next task, icing the cupcakes. Natsu kept fluttering around her, asking if they were ready yet, and she kept barking that if they didn’t cool enough the icing would melt all over the place. It was an agonizingly long time until she allowed him to pick up a butter knife and begin smoothing the creamy mixture over the rounded tops of the cupcakes. He found it a task that required more delicacy than he imagined, as he kept doing it sloppily and getting icing all over his fingers. Not that he cared, because that just meant he got to lick it off. Lucy made him wash his hands every time, though, saying that no one wanted to eat his spit.

After that she let him douse the cupcakes in pink sprinkles. Lucy showed him a neat trick where she filled a bowl with the sprinkles and dunked the cupcake into them, coating the icing evenly in sprinkles. Natsu marveled at her ingenuity, and she got all flustered when he called her a genius and lavished awe on her. After about an hour of repeating the process, Natsu was now salivating at a big red serving plate laden with their masterpieces.

“They all look so delicious… I don’t know which one I wanna eat,” he said as he crouched down so he was eye-level with the treats, inspecting each on critically with his eager fingers drumming on the table. Lucy laughed from where she was washing the dishes at the sink.

“Choose wisely, because that’s the only one you’re gonna get until tomorrow.” Natsu whined loudly at the impossible task before him. They all looked so perfect! After a few minutes of deliberation, he plucked one that looked particularly delicious and stood up, turning to her. She was just finishing, wiping her hands off on a dish towel.

“Here, Lucy. You try first!” he grinned and shoved the cupcake against her lips, smearing a little of the frosting on the underside of her nose.

“What? I thought you wanted to eat it!” she cried, voice muffled by the spongey cake smooshed against her lips.

“You worked so hard to make these! You deserve to get the first one!” he insisted. Natsu’s stomach was yowling and scratching at his insides in angry protest, but Natsu knew that was the right thing to do. Shyly, Lucy opened her mouth to take a dainty bite of the cupcake, chewing thoughtfully when she drew away.

“Yummy!” she beamed. “We make a great team!”

“What? We knew that already,” Natsu laughed and proceeded to pop the entire cupcake into his mouth. It made his cheeks bulge out like a chipmunk’s. He instantly melted into the chair he had been sitting in, the mute tang of strawberry mixing with the divine cream frosting making him ascend into blissful nirvana. “Ahhh… That’s so good,” he said as he smacked his lips and continued to work at the thick frosting coating his tongue. “Now I’m sad I only get one,” he moped with a longing look at the cupcakes.

“You should’ve savored it instead of eating it whole!”

“I was so hungry though,” he pouted, but he knew better than to test her ire by attempting to sneak another one. She enclosed the serving tray with the matching lid before picking it up and putting it on the counter to deliver to the guild the following day. He could tell she was beat by the way her shoulders sagged and she sighed every few minutes and her eyes drooped. Nonetheless, she was tying a new apron around herself and pulling out pots and pans.

“What do you want for dinner, Natsu?”

“… You don’t have to,” he refused suddenly. She looked up at him wide-eyed from her spot on the floor, half-way through pulling a skillet from her cabinet.

“What? I thought you were hungry.”

“Well, I am, but,” he scowled as he fought his ravenous belly, “you look so tired after baking all those cupcakes… All this cooking is hard work… It’s not cool of me to impose like that.”

“Oh, now you grow a conscience?” she laughed teasingly before standing up, skillet in hand. She flipped it around before plunking it down on the stove. “I don’t mind,” she told him gently, and the way her expression softened made him bolt upright in his seat. She was looking down at the empty skillet with an almost… loving expression. “Cooking for the people I care about isn’t a chore. I don’t mind at all, Natsu.” She flipped her head around, tossing her lovely blonde hair, and Natsu was hit with a wind of that lovely lemon-strawberry scent that made his nerves go wild. “You don’t have to answer. I’ve got a recipe I’ve been wanting to try out,” she chirped, turning her back to him again as she tried to reach up above the stove where her shelf of recipes sat. She pursed her lips as she accidently shoved it back, out of reach of her wiggling fingers. “Oh, dammit, let me get a chair.”

Natsu was behind her suddenly, with no recollection of even moving, reaching up to easily pluck the book she had been grasping for from the shelf. She tilted her head back to stare up at him as he lowered it into her waiting hands. “Oh… Thanks, Natsu.” She gawked at him as if expecting him to retreat. His body was caging her against the stove, his chest just barely pressing against her back, arms slowly reaching around to grip the stove on either side of her body. His nostrils were flaring as he drank in that scent of her, the tangy zest of lemon-strawberry, his nerves singing with every puff of it that wafted up his keen nose.

Natsu didn’t know what to do about Lucy, but his body did.

He was suddenly aware of how big he was compared to her when his hand slid underneath her chin, fingers stretching all the way to the undersides of her ears as he gently turned her face over her shoulder. Lucy did not resist; like a puppet to his will, her body folded for him, allowing him to maneuver her as he wished. He scanned her wide brown eyes for any sense of fear or discomfort as his face hovered over hers, only a few centimeters away. She didn’t seem scared; her eyes were blown wide, shaking, but Natsu could discern the unmistakable glimmer of excitement and anticipation brimming in the rich brown depths.

Still, he wanted to be sure.

“Can I kiss you, Lucy?” His voice was husky, raw with months of suppressed desire. Her eyelids twitched as if she were a doll suddenly springing to life. She blinked once, twice, before looking at him in mild surprise.

“Of course you can, Natsu.” She phrased it as if he should know, which made him flush lightly in embarrassment. Who knew how long she had been waiting for him to pull a move? He squirmed uncomfortably, all the confidence he had just had in the moment dissipating like it had drained out the soles of his feet. Lucy giggled that little giggle that made his soul light on fire and reached up to thread her fingers into his cotton candy-colored tufts of hair. “Kiss me,” she demanded in a breathy whisper. Natsu felt a pleasurable shiver sing up his spine. Dammit, she was sexy, looking at him through lidded eyes and ordering him around like that. Hot damn.

He didn’t keep her waiting any longer. With a wolfish smirk, he dove down to smooth his lips over her own. He relished the way her nails scratched along his scalp as soon as he made contact, and the contented hum that vibrated against his moving lips. His thick arms encircled her waist to tug her against his body, because it felt like she simply couldn’t be close enough to him. Their noses bumped a little as he passionately kissed her; it felt like his hunger for food had morphed into a hunger for her mouth, because he couldn’t get enough, not nearly enough. His tongue kitten-licked at her lips, begging for entry, and when she parted her lips for him and he got a taste of her he nearly collapsed on the spot. Strawberry cupcakes and icing and lemon-strawberry bliss, that’s what she tasted like. It might as well have been alcohol because he was drunk on it.

They separated but only just. Natsu’s eyes flickered down to watch the string of saliva snap between their moistened mouths. Hot damn. It made him want to kiss her once more so he could see it all over again. Her fingers were lovingly threading through his messy hair, and her head fell back against her shoulder as she opened up her eyes to gaze at him with a feeling so powerful that Natsu wanted to cry. “I love you, Natsu.”

“I love you too, Lucy.” He smiled and hugged her as he nuzzled his cheek against hers. She made a happy purring sound that had his veins humming with unbridled glee. He had never heard the sound before, but dammit if he didn’t want to hear it more, every day for the rest of their lives. She allowed him to hold her for a moment before she straightened up and began grabbing random implements to cook.

“Natsu, do you want dinner or not?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna let go,” he said as he buried her face into the crook of her neck and breathed deep. Lemon-strawberries tickled his nose alongside the fine blonde hairs. He had spent so long wishing to hold her like this; he was gonna get his time’s worth. Lucy exhaled deeply in resignation.

“All right, all right, but I have to go to the fridge,” she said. Natsu shuffled his body along with hers like a male penguin toting about its young. After a second, a thought occurred to him.

“Hey, Lucy.”

“Hmm?”

“Next time you should make lemon frosting.”

“Like strawberry lemonade cupcakes? Now that’s an idea,” she said, pausing from the chicken was slicing against the cutting board. Natsu grinned to himself, burying his face further into the warmth of her being.

No… Like Lucy.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

[ryocos]

I'm alone on my birthday again, so here's 24 puns ❤️

What did the alien say to the pitcher of water? Take me to your liter.

What happens when you eat too many spaghettiOs? You have a vowel movement.

The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray was a seasoned veteran.

Sausage puns are the wurst.

What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.

Why shouldn’t you trust atoms? They make up everything.

What’s it called when you have too many aliens? Extraterrestrials.

Want to hear a pizza joke? Nevermind, it’s too cheesy.

What do cows tell each other at bedtime? Dairy tales.

Why can’t you take inventory in Afghanistan? Because of the tally ban.

Why didn’t the lion win the race? Because he was racing a cheetah.

What happens to nitrogen when the sun comes up? It becomes daytrogen.

What’s it called when you put a cow in an elevator? Raising the steaks.

What’s america’s favorite soda? Mini soda.

Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.

What kind of car does a sheep drive? Their SuBAHHru.

What do you call a french pig? Porque.

What do you call a line of rabbits marching backwards? A receding hairline.

Why don’t vampires go to barbecues? They don’t like steak.

How do trees access the internet? They log on.

Why should you never trust a train? They have loco motives.

Is your refrigerator running? Better go catch it.

The future,the present and the past walked into a bar.Things got a little tense.

I saw an ad for burial plots, and thought to myself this is the last thing I need.

I just found out I'm colorblind. The diagnosis came completely out of the purple.

I'd tell you a chemistry joke but I know I wouldn't get a reaction.

Have you ever tried to eat a clock? It's very time consuming.

I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.

Read enough of our funny puns, and you'll be punstoppable.

Yesterday a clown held the door for me. It was a nice jester.

I used to go fishing with Skrillex but he kept dropping the bass.

The wedding was so emotional even the cake was in tiers.

What does a house wear? A dress.

Why can't bicycles stand up on their own? Since they are 2 tired.

I owe a lot to the sidewalks. They’ve been keeping me off the streets for years.

Imagine if alarm clocks hit you back in the morning.It would be truly alarming.

Why is a skeleton a bad liar? You can see right through it.

What do you receive when you ask a lemon for help? Lemonaid.

A man sued an airline company after it lost his luggage. Sadly, he lost his case.

What does a dog say when he sits down on a piece of sandpaper? Ruff!

What do you call crystal clear urine? 1080pee.

At my boxing club there is only one punch bag. I hate waiting for the punch line!

An untalented gymast walks into a bar.

Einstein developed a theory about space, and it was about time too.

I was accused of being a plagiarist, their word not mine.

My friends say they don’t like skeleton puns. I should put more backbone into them.

Let me FILL you in on my trip to the dentist.

Why does the singer of Cheap Thrills not want us to Sia?

Traveling on a flying carpet is a rugged experience.

Cartoonist found dead in home. Details are sketchy.

The old woman who lived in a shoe wasn’t the sole owner,there were strings attached.

Did you hear about the crime in the parking garage? It was wrong on so many levels.

My new diet consists of aircraft, its a bit plane.

Have you ever tried to milk a cow which has been cut in half? Udder madness.

Why are there fences on graveyards? Because people are dying to get in.

Why do trees have so many friends? They branch out.

Models of dragons are not to scale.

Never discuss infinity with a mathematician, they can go on about it forever.

Why don’t some couples go to the gym? Because some relationships don’t work out.

Don’t trust people that do acupuncture, they’re back stabbers.

A persistent banker wouldn’t stop hitting on me so I asked him to leave me a loan.

I ordered a book of puns last week, but i didn't get it.

People say i look better without glasses but i just can't see it.

Don’t judge a meal by the look of the first course. It’s very souperficial.

I relish the fact that you’ve mustard the strength to ketchup to me.

What do you call a young musician? A minor.

Police were called to a daycare yesterday, where a 2-year-old was resisting a rest.

If artists wear sketchers do linguists wear converse?

I changed my iPod name to Titanic. It’s syncing now.

Jill broke her finger today, but on the other hand she was completely fine.

I smeared some ketchup all over my eyes once. It was a bad idea in Heinz- sight.

I flipped a coin over an issue the other day, it was quite the toss-up.

I got hit in the head with a can of soda? Luckily it was a soft drink.

I heard that the post office was a male dominated industry.

I never was good at counting

I feel so honored that on your birthday you would think to send me puns! T.T

But don’t worry pun anon, there are three kinds of people in the world. Those who are good at math and those who are not.

[zen3to5]

J/H 3-21: The Trials of Michael Kelso

In doing this project, I haven't touched the "A" stories of any episodes since "Ice Shack." That's a consequence of trying to stick to things that could plausibly have happened on the show; even continuing through Season 3, Zen needs to be in proportion to what its role would've been in the overall story. (It's also a consequence of the "A" stories in the last few episodes not having much, if any, overlap with the "B" stories and runners.)

Well, in this case, there's a whole new "A" story for "The Trials of Michael Kelso," and what was its "A" story is a significantly altered "B." Jackie and Hyde don't have a single scene together here (just as in the actual episode), but I promise there's payoff to this. And there's also ripple effects spreading into Season 4, because a certain off-screen development there made for the new "A" plot here...

FF.Net AO3

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SHOW TITLE   INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT   The Hyde residence, as trashed as ever. BUD sits on the couch, watching TV. The door swings open and HYDE enters.   BUD: Hey, there he is!   HYDE: Bud, man, you’re not working tonight?   BUD: Well, the bookie knows to look for me down at the bar, but he doesn’t know where I live.   He laughs. Hyde tosses his keys onto the counter and sits on the other end of the couch.   HYDE: You in trouble, Bud?   BUD: Oh, no, no no. (beat) I mean, most of those guys, when they say “I’ll beat your face in,” that just means “you’ve got another two weeks,” you know?   HYDE: I mean, if you need another loan...   Bud looks up, expecting. Hyde pulls out a few bills and passes them over. Bud counts them and pockets them.   BUD: Atta boy. Hey, why don’t we go and hit up the nudie bar?   He gives Hyde a friendly jab to the arm, and Hyde nods and cackles.   HYDE: Now you’re talkin’.   Bud laughs and pats Hyde’s knee. A knock comes to the door, and Bud pushes himself up.   BUD: Hope you’ve got some singles left. You never know who you’re gonna meet there.   Chuckling, he opens the door. There stands EDNA HYDE, cigarette in one hand and a suitcase in the other.   BUD: Edna?   Hyde jumps to his feet.   HYDE: Mom?   They all stare, no love lost among any of them.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT   Moments later. Bud looks back and forth from his son to his ex-wife. Finally, he chuckles weakly and beckons Edna inside.   BUD: Hey – Edna! Wow, you look so... older.   She rolls her eyes. Hyde fumes behind them as Bud gamely tries to stay chipper.   BUD (cont’d): God, how long’s it been, the three of us all together? Was it that trip out to Milwaukee? You know, the one where they pulled us over on the way back after I hit that deer?   Edna glares, shoves Bud back by the chest as she strolls into the apartment.   EDNA: No, Bud, it was after the trip to Green Bay where you lost your lunch and your beer all over Phil Bengston’s head. Milwaukee was where you met Jo-Jo the wonder ass.   She sits down on the couch. Hyde moves as far away from her as he can without leaving the room, but doesn’t escape her notice.   EDNA (cont’d): (to Bud) I see you picked up our son. (to Hyde) Steven.   HYDE: Edna.   Edna looks him over.   EDNA: You seem like you’ve held up. I knew you’d be fine.   HYDE: Yeah. That really makes up for you taking off with Truck Stop Terry, huh?   Edna scowls at him. Bud clears his throat, laughs weakly, and takes his place back on the couch.   BUD: So, Edna – what brings you back to town? Should we, ah, set a plate out for Truck Stop Terry too?   He looks around for support for the wisecrack but gets none.   EDNA: (to Bud) Truck Stop Terry is halfway to Nebraska with a hooker named Billie and everything I had marked for the pawn shop. I’ve got no cash left and didn’t have any place else to go.   HYDE: Sucks, doesn’t it?   EDNA: Still a smart ass, I see.   HYDE: There’s the attitude that won you “Mother of the Year” seventeen years running.   EDNA: Hey, you’re lucky I stuck around as long as I did in a little dump town like this. I lasted longer than this one.   She points roughly to Bud, who looks anywhere but at the two people in the room with him.   EDNA (cont’d): Anyway, I’m back, aren’t I?   HYDE: Don’t give me that crap. You just said you had nowhere else to go, else you wouldn’t be here now.   BUD: Steven –   HYDE: (to Bud) No, screw this, and screw her! I’ll be at the bar, Dad.   He leaves quickly, slamming the door after him. Edna and Bud shift around on the couch.   EDNA: Like father, like son, huh?   BUD: He’s a good egg, Edna. Hell, he’s keeping me afloat here.   Edna looks up, a searching look in her eye.   EDNA: Yeah?   BUD: Yeah. I’m drowning down at the track. You must’ve done something right with him.   EDNA: Eh. The twitchy kid’s folks had more of him than I did.   She takes a long drag on her cigarette.   BUD: Come on, Ed.   EDNA: (sighs) Well... that fake I.D. he’ll be using at that bar? Who do you think taught him how to get one of those?   Bud gives her a congratulatory gesture as she shrugs and smokes.   CUT TO:   INT. PINCIOTTI LIVING ROOM - NIGHT   That same night. DONNA, JACKIE, and KELSO all sit on the couch. Jackie and Kelso’s homework is spread out over the coffee table, while Donna holds a notebook and pencil in her hands.   DONNA: (to Jackie) So if “x” equals 7, then “y” equals...   JACKIE: 2?   DONNA: Wrong. Kelso?   KELSO: Uh... L?   DONNA: (beat) Also wrong. It’s a pretty simple equation, guys. Just think about it for a second.   Jackie’s face scrunches up in thought. Kelso stares at her, grinning, and gives her a light nudge with his shoulder.   KELSO: You’re so pretty. You don’t even need to know math.   Jackie turns to him, beaming.   JACKIE: That’s so weird. I was just thinking the same thing!   They giggle together. Donna lets out a long sigh.   DONNA: Okay, I think “girls’ study night” needs to go down to just girls.   Jackie pouts at Donna, but Kelso starts gathering his things.   KELSO: Yeah, I’d better get going. (to Jackie) We’re still on for the Hub tomorrow?   JACKIE: Uh-huh.   KELSO: Awesome. See ya then.   He exits.   Donna moves down the couch closer to Jackie.   DONNA: Great. Now maybe we can get some work done.   Not likely; Jackie’s still looking after Kelso’s wake.   JACKIE: Michael’s so sweet. Now that we’ve been spending time together as friends, he’s like a completely different person. He’s changed so much since we broke up.   She sighs. Donna tries to hide her skeptical expression.   JACKIE (cont’d): When I look into his eyes, I can see the maturity and honesty there now. He really has grown up.   Donna’s expression turns disgusted, and turning her head doesn’t hide it anymore. Jackie scowls at Donna.   JACKIE (cont’d): What, you think I’m wrong?   DONNA: Gee, Jackie, let me think. Uh, YEAH! I mean, this is Kelso you’re talking about. Of all the times he’s said he’s learned something and grown up, when has he ever actually learned anything and grown up? And if you’re thinking about getting back together with him -   JACKIE: No, no, no, Donna, I don’t want to get back together with him. (beat) But if I ever did, it’s good to know that he’s ready for a healthy, adult relationship.   DONNA: (looks up) Oh, God, kill me now.   JACKIE: Fine. You don’t believe me? I’ll prove it. I’ll come up with some simple psychological tests that’ll show Michael’s matured.   DONNA: You know, Jackie, that’s a good idea.   JACKIE: It is?   DONNA: Absolutely. If you’re even considering getting back with Kelso, you better have him tested.   BOB and MIDGE enter, carrying two large grocery bags each.   BOB: Hi there, kids.   DONNA: Hey, Dad.   BOB: Listen, sweetie, do your mom and me a favor. This Thursday, would you mind spending the night over at Jackie’s? We’re having a little party here.   DONNA: Well, Dad, I don’t mind. I’ll just stay up in my room.   BOB: Honey, I really think you oughta be out of the house for this one. See, this party is... well, it’s... we’re all gonna be...   MIDGE: It’s a nudist party.   Donna and Jackie both shudder, and Jackie screams. They gather their things and race out of the room. Bob and Midge look after them, then to each other. They shrug and head into the kitchen.   BUMPER   INT. HUB - DAY   The next day, early afternoon. Almost empty. “Breaking Up is Hard to Do” by Neil Sedaka plays on the jukebox.   Jackie and Kelso occupy the wall table, Jackie in the booth seat and Kelso across from her. Jackie’s notebooks and Kelso’s food are spread over the table. Donna and FEZ share a small round table. Fez sits backwards in his chair and plays with the straw of his soda.   FEZ:  So in a nudist party, everyone is nude, yes?   DONNA:  Yeah, Fez.   FEZ: And that includes all the womens?   DONNA: Yeah... and all the men, too.   FEZ: But also all the womens.   He gets a dirty little smile. Donna puts a palm to his face and shoves, sending him flying back from his seat onto the ground.   Jackie looks up over her notes at Kelso, who’s using one of his fries to draw shapes in the blob of ketchup in his basket. Jackie clears her throat.   JACKIE: So, Michael, this assignment I’m working on is about what careers we might want after graduating, and -   KELSO: Oh, I remember that one. I did pretty well on it, too. See, I had two choices. I was considering becoming a doctor...   JACKIE: Ooh, a doctor! That’s so mature.   She looks over Kelso’s shoulder at Donna, who’s watching the scene with a slightly mocking smile. Fez crawls back into his seat.   KELSO: Yeah. Or a rodeo clown. ‘Cause then I’d get to wear a big clown nose and ride around in barrels. Yeah, I think I gotta go with rodeo clown.   Jackie looks dumbstruck as she makes a note in her notebook. Donna puts a hand over her face to hide her laughter.   JACKIE: (beat) Okay... enough about that. So Michael, there are two events occurring this weekend. One that you might like, and one that I would really, really, really, really, really want to go to. Now, should we go see the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders -   KELSO: Oh, pfft! Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.   JACKIE: Yes, or -   KELSO:  No, Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.   JACKIE: But Michael, I want -   KELSO: No, Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders!   A crestfallen Jackie makes another mark in her notebook. Donna, barely holding it together, stands and staggers into the bathroom.   Fez moves from his chair to an empty one by Kelso.   FEZ: So what does one do to get invited to a nudist party?   Jackie covers her face with one hand as Kelso looks off in thought.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – EVENING   Later that day. THE CIRCLE. Kelso is juggling a single egg.   KELSO: Hey, guys. Check out this egg Jackie gave me to take care of. It’s great for rodeo clown practice. Later I’m gonna find somebody to chuck it at.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: Hey, man, I volunteer Edna. An egg to the head is just the sort of “welcome home” greeting you deserve when you roll back into town after riding a trucker around the greater Midwest area.   Pan to ERIC.   ERIC: (to Hyde) Edna? Wait, Hyde – your mom’s back? That’s great, man! I mean – it is great, isn’t it? Because that’s the sort of thing that usually is great, but – I mean... with how your mom left... and not to mention she’s, you know...   He makes a gross face.   Pan to Fez.   FEZ: (to Hyde) Hyde, do you think your parents will be on the guest list for the Pinciotti’s nudist party? Because that is some naked I would like to avoid.   Pan to Kelso, still juggling.   KELSO: Yeah, Bob and Midge are going all out for that one. I was over there with Jackie and saw ‘em settin’ up a keg, and makin’ cheese puffs, and little mini hot dogs, and hard-boiled...   He trails off, catches the egg, and laughs as he stares at it.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: (to Eric) Look, Forman. I know how “after-school special” you get over these things, but this is no big deal, all right? So I don’t want you running to get Red or your mom to check up on me, ‘cause me and Bud – we’re okay now, and we can handle... (to Kelso) They have cheese puffs?   Pan to Eric.   ERIC: (to Hyde) Okay, Hyde. If you say so. But I want you to know... damn, now I want cheese puffs! (beat) Hey – maybe my mom made some for dinner!   He and Hyde bolt to the stairs.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING   RED and KITTY are in the middle of their meals, but Eric and Hyde are way past that. Their plates empty, they’ve split an entire loaf of bread between them and eat it by the slice. Eric shovels his slices in plain, while Hyde uses the bread to soak up leftover sauce and juices from his plate.   Red does his best to ignore their behavior, but Kitty keeps stealing glances at Hyde.   KITTY: (to Hyde) Steven, this is two nights in a row we’ve had you over for dinner. Is everything alright at home?   His mouth too full to talk, Hyde nods vigorously and reaches for a tall glass of milk.   HYDE: (gulps down milk) Oh yeah, Mrs. Forman, everything’s fine.   He starts in on another bread slice. Kitty looks from him to Eric and laughs.   KITTY: Okay, then. I have a custard pudding for dessert if anyone wants -   Eric and Hyde, both eating, nod and beckon for the pudding without looking up. Kitty retrieves the large pudding bowl from the island, and no sooner sets it on the table than the boys start spooning it onto their plates. Eric is the first to take a bite.   ERIC: (loudly) Oh, God, this is great! (to Hyde) Man, remember the custard your mom used to make at school? That was horrible! God! I hope she’s learned to cook while she was gone.   HYDE: Shut up, Forman!   Too late; Red and Kitty both turn toward Hyde.   KITTY: Your mother’s back?   Eric slams a hand down on the table, drawing his parents’ attention.   ERIC: (loudly) Did I say that? I didn’t say that! Why did I say that? Oh, God, listen to my voice! I’m so loud!   Red and Kitty consider their son for a moment, then turn back to Hyde.   RED: Steven?   HYDE: Yeah, so? She’s back.   KITTY: Well, now, that’s... that is such good news! (laughs) ... Isn’t it?   ERIC: (loudly) That’s what I said! That is just what I said! Is it good or not? Why am I still talking like this?   RED: (to Eric) Hey – stop acting weird. (to Hyde) So, Edna’s back, eh? Well, that sure is... surprising.   KITTY: Yeah. How’s your father taking that?   HYDE: Fine. They sit and shout, just like old times.   Hyde’s gone from eating bread slices to tearing them up. He refuses to meet Kitty’s eye.   KITTY: Oh. (laughs) And how about – how about you, Steven? Are you all right? Because you don’t look all right.   RED: Kitty...   KITTY: Well, Red, the woman just up and left him and then comes traipsing back into town. I think he has some feelings he needs to let out -   HYDE: I’m fine!   He kicks himself back from the table and hurries out the patio door.   Eric stands and reaches out a hand.   ERIC: (loudly) Hyde – come back! We never even asked about the cheese puffs!   When Hyde doesn’t return, Eric collapses back down into his seat and covers his face with his hands, while Red and Kitty share a look.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT   Later that night. Bud and Edna are still on the couch. Beer cans and liquor bottles surround them. Edna has a fresh cigarette and Bud has a cigar. Each has, in their other hand, a large glass filled with whiskey. They laugh uproariously as they clink glasses and take a drink.   Their cavorting keeps them from seeing Hyde enter. He takes in the sight, unsure what to make of it, until Bud finally spies him.   BUD: Steven!   He raises his glass in salute.   HYDE: Bud, you’re drinking?   BUD: (shrugs) What can I say, son? Something about your mother’s always driven me to the bottle.   He cracks up, and so does Edna. They clink glasses again and take another drink.   EDNA: Oh, this is fun! I’d forgotten the good times like this. (to Hyde) Steven, honey, you were probably too young to remember, but there was this one Christmas where the snow was falling and the heat was paid and we’d lifted one of those pre-decorated trees from the store, and we just spent the whole night laughing and shootin’ shots of peppermint Schnapps.   She winks at Bud, who grins and falls into a bobbing nod with his head.   HYDE: Actually, I do remember that Christmas. You locked up and passed out before I got back from Forman’s. I spent the night outside.   EDNA: (beat) Oh. Well, you still have all your toes, right? So it all worked out.   Her glass is empty. She refills it while Bud leans way back into the couch.   BUD: Steven, I’ve got good news – your mom’s moving in.   HYDE: What?   BUD: Yeah. Isn’t it great?   HYDE: No!   He crosses behind the couch and looms over his parents.   HYDE (cont’d): God, how do you do this – both of you? You screw me, you screw each other, you both ditch everything, and then you both roll back into town and in two days you just decide you’re back together? What the hell is wrong with you, man?   BUD: (shrugs) We’re Hydes!   He and Edna crack up again. Edna pats on the stool by the couch; very reluctantly, Hyde sits.   EDNA: Steven, this is just the way life is. So we all screwed each other over, boo-hoo. And we all thought we’d take off and find something better, but we didn’t.   HYDE: Speak for yourself, Edna.   EDNA: Oh, yeah? So why’re you here instead of hiding out in that spindly kid’s basement?   Hyde looks at her. She nods slowly.   EDNA (cont’d): Yeah, Bud filled me in on all that. You’re gonna tell me a hard ass like Red Forman wasn’t one slip-up away from tossing you out?   BUD: Hell – the few times I’ve been by, I’m surprised he didn’t throw me out. He is one angry, scary, shiny-headed S.O.B.   Hyde stares at the ground, his left hand holding his right fist.   EDNA: My point is, Steven, we’re all back with each other now, and people like us... we get what we get. Sitting around going over all the bad times – well, that’s not gonna do any good. This is where we’re stuck, and we’ve gotta make things work.   BUD: (to Hyde) It’s all I’ve been trying to do. And Ed moving in, that’s settled. Now, if you’ll spot me a few more bucks, your mother and I have a lot of things to take care of tomorrow.   Hyde’s head bows lower. He can’t find a retort. Edna grabs a liquor bottle and presses it into his hands.   EDNA: Now come on, baby. Why don’t you buck up and have a drink with your mom and dad?   Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, Hyde sits up and takes the bottle, gives it a sniff.   HYDE: This Beam’s Choice?   His parents nod. Hyde clinks the bottle against their raised glasses, and they all drink.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY   The next day, just after school. Kelso is still juggling Jackie’s egg. Fez and Donna sit on the couch, watching him. Donna shakes her head and tries not to laugh. Kelso notices and turns to present more of the show to her.   KELSO: Man, I am gonna be such a good rodeo clown.   Donna claps a hand over her mouth. Fez looks from her to Kelso, confused.   FEZ: I don’t get it. He’s not even really juggling. He only has one egg.   Kelso catches the egg.   KELSO: Oh, yeah? Well, we’ll see about that, Fez.   He heads up the stairs. Donna leans on the armrest of the couch.   DONNA: He is such a moron. He is so gonna fail Jackie’s test.   FEZ: Test? What test?   DONNA: Well, I’m not supposed to say anything, but Jackie’s testing Kelso to see if he’s really grown into a more mature, honest guy.   Fez gives Donna a long look, then breaks into laughter. Donna joins him, and they end up leaning against each other.   FEZ: That can’t be going well, can it?   DONNA: Duh! He’s already failed two tests, and the second that egg breaks, he fails the third. Jackie wants to see if he’s responsible now, so she told him she needed him to look after it for a few days.   Kelso bounds back down the stairs, his arms filled with eggs.   KELSO: Okay, Fez. How do you like – this?   He starts tossing the eggs into the air one by one. He manages maybe one-and-a-half rounds before they start to get away from him. The eggs land on the floor by his feet, they fly across the room – some even land on his arms and shoulders. When he tries to retreat, he slips on egg yolk and barely avoids crashing back into the TV, instead falling into the lawn chair.   KELSO (cont’d): Dammit! That’s it – I’m sticking with barrel riding.   FEZ: (to Donna) Well, that’s another “F” on the tests of love, am I right?   Donna tries to shush him, but it’s too late; Kelso heard.   KELSO: What do you mean?   Over Donna’s objections, Fez goes on:   FEZ: Just that when you broke those eggs you broke Jackie’s egg, and you failed the third test she has put to you to see if you have matured.   Donna puts a hand to her forehead. Very slowly, Kelso stands back up.   KELSO: Wait... so Jackie – the girl I love more than anything in the world – she’s been testing me? Why? Is she seeing if we should get back together?   DONNA: I’m not sure, but if she wants to, this is what she’s basing it on.   KELSO: So by breaking that egg, I failed the test? And all the others so far, I failed those too, and I lost my chance to win Jackie back forever?   Donna and Fez both nod.   KELSO: (beat) Okay, so when’s the make-up test?   Donna completely buries her head in her hands as Fez gives a slow and condescending shake of his head.   CUT TO:   INT. PINCIOTTI LIVING ROOM - DAY   Almost everything is in place for the party. A table is set up near the wall for food and punch, the furniture has been pushed to the sides to leave space open for dancing, and the keg is set up. But it hasn’t started yet – Bob and Midge still have their clothes on.   MIDGE: I think that’s everything, Bob.   BOB: Not quite, Midgie. Time to seal the place up good. Ready?   They nod together. Cut to:   MONTAGE, set to the theme from MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE. Bob and Midge go through every room in their house, sealing up doors and windows. Blinds are drawn, curtains are pulled, tacky photos of Bob in an Elvis costume are hung on the little window in the front door, and Midge covers up the bathroom mirror with a towel before Bob comes in and moves the towel to cover the window.   The montage ends with quick cuts showing all the sealed spaces in the house, ending with one left unattended: a small corner of the living room window, where the blinds haven’t properly shut. Fez’s head looms there, grinning and nodding in delight.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Hyde shoots hoops alone. He looks like hell. Red and Eric, dressed for work at Price Mart, come outside from the kitchen.   RED: Steven. There you are.   HYDE: Oh, hey, Red. Forman.   RED: Eric tells me you missed school today.   ERIC: Um, Dad, I thought we weren’t gonna mention that part.   RED: (to Eric) Look, your mother’s making me do this, and if it goes to Hell, I’m taking someone down with me.   HYDE: No, Red, it’s okay. Edna’s moving in, so I took the day to, you know, get the place cleared up a bit. And sleep off the “welcome home” party we had last night.   He cackles. Red isn’t amused.   RED: Your mom and dad couldn’t “clear up?” Or were they “sleeping it off” – up their ass?   HYDE: Nah, man. They’ve been out all day. Had some things to pick up – another bed, a dresser, chairs -   ERIC: Wait, I thought your dad was almost broke. How can they afford that? Unless... I mean, your mom’s always given it away for free, but I guess when you’re on the road, desperate times...   Red glares at him.   RED: Can it.   ERIC: Yes, sir.   RED: (to Hyde) Well?   Hyde shifts on his feet, not meeting either Forman’s eyes.   RED (cont’d): Is your dad hitting you up for money again?   HYDE: (short, tense) It’s fine. I’m fine. We worked things out, and it’s gonna be okay. (beat) They’re my folks. You get what you get, you know?   ERIC: What – no! Hyde, that’s not how it works. They can’t do that to you. (to Red) Dad, say something.   Red holds up a hand to quiet Eric and gives Hyde a hard look.   RED: Look, Steven, I know what you’re hoping for. But your parents... the thing is, son -   HYDE: Hey, I’m not your son! I was only even here so long as I toed the line, right? One strike and I’m out, right Red?   Red’s face hardens. Seeing his dad’s expression, Eric inches back away from him.   HYDE (cont’d): Will you just butt out? You too, Forman! All of you!   He throws the basketball into the garage and storms off. The hedges and trees begin to rustle in a growing wind. Eric shivers, and even Red seems cold.   ERIC: Dad?   RED: Yeah?   ERIC: I thought Hell would be warmer.   Red looks up at the sky.   RED: Damn spring snows.   They head inside, Eric hugging himself tightly, as snowflakes start to fall.   BUMPER   INT. HUB - DAY   A busier afternoon. The snow outside is falling heavily now. “Crazy on You” by Heart plays on the jukebox. Jackie is back at the wall table, sharing the booth seat with Donna as they study.   Kelso enters, bundled up for the weather. In his hands is an egg stuffed into a scarf stuffed into a tissue box. Slowly, with great care, he walks over to the girls and gingerly sets the box down before sitting down across from them.   KELSO: Hey, guys.   Jackie and Donna look from each other to the egg.   JACKIE: (to Kelso) What’s that?   KELSO: Oh, it’s just this little crib-like thing I made for Eggy.   DONNA: “Eggy?”   KELSO: Yeah. And I couldn’t leave him exposed in all this cold, ‘cause that would be immature and irresponsible.   He makes a big show of nodding. Donna puts a hand to her forehead. Jackie picks up the egg and checks the bottom.   JACKIE: Michael, what happened to the pencil mark I made on the bottom?   Kelso takes the egg from her and checks the bottom. He looks to Donna, who just sighs and shakes her head.   KELSO: (to Jackie) Oh. Must have come off when I was giving him his gentle bath.   Donna rolls her eyes; she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Jackie puts a hand to her heart.   JACKIE: Michael, I knew you had this in you. After all this time, you really have become mature, responsible, and honest.   KELSO: Yeah – that’s me! Mr. Mature, Responsible, Honest Guy!   He grins and nods like a doofus. Jackie smiles back at him. Donna shakes her head.   The grin slowly slips off Kelso’s face. He glances down at the egg and sets it back in its “crib.”   KELSO (cont’d): Actually, Jackie – I found out about the tests. And I broke the egg you gave me and tried to cover it up, which wasn’t very honest or mature. So maybe, whatever the tests were for, I don’t deserve it.   He pushes the egg toward Jackie and gets up.   KELSO (cont’d): I’m sorry. See ya.   He leaves. Donna and Jackie stare after him, mouths agape.   DONNA: Oh, my God. He owned up. Before it all blew up in his face.   JACKIE: Yes, he did. (beat) Which is the honest, mature thing to do. So he has changed!   She beams and scribbles down some notes.   DONNA: And you were right. So if Kelso learned something, and you were right about something... and if it’s snowing this late in spring... I think those are three signs of the end of the world.   She stares into space, in shock, as Jackie swats her on the shoulder.   BUMPER   INT. HALL - EVENING   The hallway of Bud’s apartment complex. It doesn’t look much better than the room. Hyde walks up to his door, a small, wrapped parcel tucked under one arm. He tries his key on the door, but it doesn’t unlock.   The LANDLORD, a greasy-looking old man, appears at the other end of the hall. He has Hyde’s knapsack in his hands.   LANDLORD: They’re gone, kid.   He heads up the hall to meet Hyde.   HYDE: What do you mean?   LANDLORD: Gone, left, split. Came in from the dog tracks a few hours ago with a huge wad of dough and a big bottle of hooch and cleared out.   He pushes the sack into Hyde’s free arm.   LANDLORD (cont’d): They left this. Said to give it to you.   HYDE: (beat) Did they say where they were going?   LANDLORD: (shakes head) Sorry.   Hyde just stares down at the sack in his hand. The landlord starts back down the hall, then steps back and puts a hand on Hyde’s shoulder.   LANDLORD (cont’d): Look, kid. I hate to drop bad news on ya like this...   He takes a slip of paper from his pocket.   LANDLORD (cont’d): But on their way out, your folks didn’t settle their damages.   He holds the bill out to Hyde, who finally looks up.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT   Eric lies on the couch and reads a magazine, his Price Mart smock open. Instrumental rock plays softly on the radio.   The basement door opens, and Hyde steps in, covered in snow. His sack is slung over his shoulder and the wrapped parcel is still under his arm. Eric sits up, and the two of them regard one another for a moment.   ERIC: Hey.   HYDE: Hey. (beat) Uh, Forman, are Red and Kitty home?   ERIC: They turned in for the night. Do you need something?   Hyde crosses to the other side of the couch and sits down. He throws his sack into his chair and sets the parcel on the coffee table.   HYDE: Nah, man. Just – you know, turns out Edna left some things behind, so her and my dad, they went to pick ‘em up, and I thought... you know, just for a few days, if the basement’s free...   ERIC: Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course.   Hyde nods. He looks down at the parcel, and Eric follows his eyeline.   ERIC: (nods to parcel) Whatcha got there?   HYDE: Oh, it’s nothing. Just now that Bud and Edna n’ me, we’re all back together so I thought, you know, I’d get something for the apartment.   ERIC: Oh... well, that’s nice. That’s really nice.   He scratches at the back of his head, running short on words.   Hyde slams a fist down hard on the parcel. It makes an awful shattering noise. For good measure, he throws it at the wall, just above the TV.   Hyde sinks back into his seat and stares straight ahead, his breathing heavy. Eric, bug-eyed, looks slowly from the shattered parcel to Hyde.   ERIC: (voice breaking) Well... hey! Now it’ll match your dad’s décor!   He giggles nervously. Hyde just keeps staring at nothing. “Behind Blue Eyes” by the Who comes over the radio.   ERIC (cont’d): (beat) You know, Hyde... “a few days...” weeks... months... when you live in a little town like this, they all just sort of roll together.   Hyde’s head won’t turn, or his breath steady. Eric pats Hyde on the shoulder and moves to get up. Hyde’s hand catches his arm. Still looking ahead, Hyde’s face is a stone about to crack.   Eric sits back down, and he and Hyde adjust their arms to be around each other’s shoulders. They both stare at the wall as the radio keeps playing.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. PINCIOTTI LIVING ROOM - NIGHT   The party. Riotous samba music plays. We see nothing except the living room window, with shadows occasionally passing by the blinds. A slow pan takes us to Fez, watching from the one gap in the blinds in ecstasy.   BOB (v.o.): Okay, everybody – limbo!   A cheer erupts from the party guests. The shadows move, suggesting a limbo. Fez’s eyes go wide, and he falls back in a faint.   END.