#we left a goldfish offering to him

[ellecdc]

A Man with a Plan.7

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: angst, discussion of Black and Crouch shitty parenting, accidental attempted drowning/belief of drowning -> please note: there are always happy endings here on ellecdc

Amelia Bones didn’t like to think of herself as a particularly stupid girl, but she couldn’t deny she probably looked pretty foolish right now.

She was just about as pathetic as any school-aged girl got over their first crush – which was to say was very pathetic. The worst part of all of it was that she really sort of did this to herself.

She couldn’t deny that Remus had always been very clear that he was interested in nothing more than casual sex; he never invited her to breakfast, he never asked her out on dates, he never even invited her to parties. But that never stopped her from wanting those things.

And for a while, she was able to pretend it was fine.

She was able to pretend that when he didn’t kick her out of bed right away and allowed her to stay the night, that it meant he actually wanted her there. She was able to pretend that when he approached her at a party, it was because she had always been his first choice. She was able to pretend that when he grabbed her and rushed into a broom closet, it was because he just couldn’t stop thinking about her and needed her just as desperately as she needed him.

But she was only fooling herself.

And to add insult to injury, it appeared that Remus wasn’t completely averse to feelings, relationships, or dating; he just didn’t want that with her.

“And have you noticed how sweet he’s been on that freak L/N?” Shirley sneered from Amelia’s left as they all watched Remus smile sweetly at you and pass you a cup of something at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

“You should start offering palm readings, Amelia. Maybe then he’ll find you odd enough to keep around.” Added Silas, earning snickers from the entire friend group.

“Ha ha.” Amelia deadpanned, tossing her half-eaten toast onto the plate in front of her.

The bitter taste followed her around all day after that. She swore she could hear the sounds of Remus and his friends snickering all day, and if she happened to hear your serene voice echoing in the hallways, she knew that chances were that Remus wasn’t too far behind.

Remus was everywhere; and wherever she was able to avoid him – you seemed to show up. As you walked into the library in which Amelia was currently holed up in, she swore she was a thestrals hair away from using her quill to put herself out of her misery.

Amelia was able to see her friends from her current table but had opted to sit on her own in order to focus on the difficult Care of Magical Creatures essay, knowing that sitting with Silas would result in a rowdy game of gobstones in no time – library or not.

“Oi! L/N! What kind of voodoo spell did you cast on Lupin, huh?” Shirley called to the girl, earning her a round of snickers from the friend group. Amelia cringed, noting that you were currently alone and very clearly minding your own business.

“Hello Shirley.” You offered, albeit much less jovially than your usual sunny disposition.

“She asked you a question, freak.” Silas barked aggressively.

“Oh, leave her be.” Coraline chided in faux sympathy. “We all know she doesn’t have the attention span for voodoo practices; she’d need a brain larger than a goldfish for that.”

You looked away from the group who were now all belly laughing at your expense when your eyes met Amelia’s; her gaze already trained on you.

“Hello Amelia.” You said softly with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you approached her table. Amelia regarded you cautiously, though she hated to admit that she found it extremely difficult to feel defensive in your presence.

“Hi Y/N.” Amelia sighed, looking back down to her textbook.

“Have you gotten far on the essay?” You asked kindly, peering over Amelia’s textbook. She really wanted to be vexed at your intrusion in her studies, at her table, in her life, but she found she really couldn’t muster the effort.

“No... I, uhm. I’m finding this quite difficult, honestly. I’ve still got a foot of parchment to go.” She admitted begrudgingly. You hummed in agreement.

“It likely doesn’t help that it requires an understanding of the mating habits of the frost snails, which we haven’t covered in class.”

Amelia’s head snapped up to consider you. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Helga...I thought I had lost the plot! I was certain I had missed something in class to feel this lost.” Amelia admitted looking back down at her parchment feeling slightly elated to know that she at least wasn’t a complete fool in this area of her life.

“You can find everything you need to know on page 246; the rest of your paper should come along nicely.” You offered, smiling kindly at her. Amelia was sort of annoyed at the pleasant feeling that you elicited from her, but again she couldn’t muster up the energy to be particularly vexed.

“Thank you, Y/N. I would have been quite lost without your help.” She relented.

Your smile grew at that as you stood taller, preparing to walk away. “Oh, I’m sure you would have managed just fine Amelia. You’re quite the witch, you know.”

And with that, you floated away.

Amelia supposed that if there was anyone in this school who would be able to convince Remus Lupin to break all of his rules, you’d be a shoo-in.

Amelia decided then that it was actually quite an honour to have ‘lost’ to a witch like you.

Remus felt silly wandering the grounds in search of you. If he was a man of more restraint, he would try harder to control himself; but he decided there was no use in denying Moony, or himself, of you.

Thankfully for your part, you didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Remus’ life had been flipped upside down twice recently: once when he found out about his soulmate bond, and again when he came clean to you about his lycanthropy. He found he felt... freer, safer, grounded if that made any sense at all.

And though his regular anxiety surrounding the full moons seemed to lessen, his anxiety surrounding you seemed to grow each day the closer he got to the full. It was almost as if Moony was convinced he could feel every beat of your heart – it sped up momentarily, something upset you, you’re catching your breath, you’ve fallen asleep – and though Remus felt incredibly disturbed and admittedly creepy to be capable of assessing all of these things from Merlin knows how far away, it brought Moony immense comfort to be able to sense you safe.

He tried not to overwhelm you with his constant presence as Moony (and begrudgingly, himself) would much prefer, but with the full moon approaching, Remus decided it was better for everyone not to fight the urge to be close.

Remus had (quite embarrassingly) searched the entire castle for you to no avail and had even resorted to asking Regulus (who was accompanied by Barty) if he knew where you were.

Barty had scoffed at him. “Figures you wouldn’t be privy to her schedule yet, Lupin.” He sneered, emphasising his last name as if it were a dirty word.

Regulus rolled his eyes at his friend and let out a sigh. “She goes down to the Black Lake every afternoon to bring a gift to the mermaids, Lupin. Now if you don’t mind, I find Barty to be far more pleasant company when he’s not whining about people dressed in red and gold.”

Well, Remus didn’t have to be told twice. Moony was very excited to leave his present company to find ‘MINE!’.

Remus was admittedly not a huge fan of the moniker Moony had chosen for you, but he was very tired of arguing with The Wolf.

As Regulus had promised, Remus finally found you crouched down at the edge of the dock on the Black Lake, tracing shapes into the water’s surface with your hands.

Perfect. Good. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Remus couldn’t exactly disagree with the sentiment.

You were alerted to Remus’ presence by the wooden planks shifting below his feet.

“Hello Remus!” You cheered in that gentle and serene way of yours; Remus couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“Hello Y/N, what are you up to?” He asked as he stood above you. You began to squint up at him and Remus quickly shifted over in order to shield your eyes from the sun.

“I’ve been trying to befriend the mermaids.” You explained, returning your gaze down to the water. “Each day I try to bring them trinkets.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement and crouched down beside you ignoring the burning sensation in his knees. “What kind of trinkets?”

You hummed in thought before you answered. “I think anything shiny works well. Sometimes if I’ve lost the pair to an earring, I’ll bring it to them. Or crystals and gems are nice too.”

“And what do you get for your efforts?”

You turned to consider Remus bemusedly; your brows were furrowed but you were still smiling, nonetheless. “Do you only ever do things for the sake of a potential outcome, Remus?”

Remus figured he ought to feel properly chastised, but he was just too happy to be talking to you in order to do much about it. “I guess so.”

You hummed and assessed his face before turning back to the water. “Do you often feel disappointed?”

“I feel like we’ve already determined that my planning skills are not conducive to success, no?”

You smiled to yourself at that as you continued playing with the water. “It’s true that I’ve set out with a goal to befriend the mermaids. But whether or not they return that friendship, I will have succeeded.”

“Wouldn’t you think that you’d have better luck from in the water?” He queried, causing your lips to purse as you let out a disappointed sound.

“Perhaps; if I knew how to swim, I’d certainly try.”

Moony reared his big old head again at that, and Remus quickly stood and gently helped you stand and pulled you closer to the middle of the dock, away from the edge you’d been inhabiting.

You giggled at him; the first real spontaneous emotion he thinks he had ever heard from you, and it caused Remus’ heart rate to speed up double time.

“You needn’t worry, Remus.” You expressed solemnly. “I’m very careful.”

And for that, he and Moony were glad.

“Where are you headed now?” He asked instead, hoping to begin steering you away from the Lakes edge and towards solid ground.

He could tell by the subtle lift at the corners of your lips that you had caught onto him, but were gracious enough not to call him on it.

“I believe I’m to meet Bartemus and Regulus in the Slytherin dungeons for a bit.” You admitted, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose and Moony to growl in protest.

So many of the words you had used in that sentence were displeasing to Remus, but you were willingly stepping off the dock and walking towards the castle with him, so he didn’t feel he had any right to complain. 

“What are you headed to now?” You asked in turn, catching Remus off guard.

What was he going to do now? The only thing he’d planned on doing was finding you, and he’d done that.

“You know; I’m not sure.” He admitted.

You chuckled at him and began telling him about Barty and Regulus’ plans for the afternoon; and although he was displeased at the content, he was very pleased listening to the sound of your voice.

He hadn’t realised he’d been subconsciously leaning into you or brushing your hand with his until you confidently yet gently took his hand in yours and continued to lament about Barty’s poor study habits without missing a beat.

Remus found himself feeling very lucky to have you as his soulmate.

Remus’ feeling of luck ran out quickly when he found himself stepping down the last stair into the Slytherin dungeon to figuratively hand you off to your friends. 

You must have noticed Remus’ hesitation to let you go when you gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled kindly at him. “Perhaps we can meet in the library after supper? I have a Care of Magical Creatures essay to edit.”

And Remus was certain that was a lie; he was quite sure you were long done that essay, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“That’d be very nice.” He agreed.

“Alright, alright, Lupin. Move along, would you?” Barty grumbled as he made his way over; Regulus rolled his eyes at his friend and actually offered Remus a somewhat apologetic expression.

“Barty.” You chided lightly with a smile. “Be nice, yeah?”

Barty grumbled petulantly, muttering “that was me being nice.” But he acquiesced to your request in the form of keeping his mouth shut until Remus had ascended the stairs.

True to your word, you approached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall when you were finished eating with a kind smile on your face.

Unfortunately for poor Moony (Remus), your presence led to questions from James, who, upon hearing you were working on edits for the essay in Care of Magical Creatures, insisted he join (seeing as he hadn’t even started it yet). Of course, not one to ever be left out, Sirius was quick to offer to join.

And since Remus, James, and Sirius were all going to be in the library, Peter figured he may as well tag along. 

Though Remus was feeling rather petulant about the final attendance of your study date, Moony was feeling very chuffed about his whole pack being together.

He forced Moony to lie down and be quiet as he listened to you try to help James with his essay (read: pretty much write it for him). 

Remus was surprised how well you seemed to settle into his group of friends, and in turn, how his friends seemed to settle around you. 

James seemed to be able to sit still for a longer period of time if it was you he was conversing with, Sirius seemed less inclined to argue with everyone about everything, and Peter seemed far more comfortable in asking you follow up questions than he was with anyone else the group had spoken with before.

Unfortunately, things didn’t seem to want to go smoothly for Remus today. 

The sound of your name being called over and over and over again in a hushed tone interrupted your sentence on why the mating cycle of frost snails was dependent on the growth pattern of shrivelfig fruit as Barty came rushing over.

“I’m sorry,” he started breathlessly, surprising the absolute fuck out of Remus. “I forgot to tell you earlier; I got a letter.”

Remus watched as your face turned grave; your expression far more severe than he’d ever seen it before.

“Did you burn it?” You asked darkly.

“Not yet.” Barty admitted.

“Bartemus.” You chided quietly, looking like your heart was breaking a little bit.

“Merlin; do you really need Y/N to check your mail for you, Junior? Couldn’t this wait until later?” Sirius grumbled, never looking up from his own Runes translations he was currently working on.

Remus was surprised he didn’t hear your neck snap with the speed at which you turned your attention away from Barty and back to the table where you glared severely at Sirius.

“Sorry Treasure.” Barty commented quietly, patting your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Before he left the library.

Remus felt his heart drop…no…he felt your heart drop as you turned to watch Barty disappear behind the stacks in the library. 

“Sirius Black.” You began quietly, causing all the boys to cringe at the use of his full name. “Tell me; how do you usually feel after receiving a letter from your father?”

You had once again returned your attention back to the black-haired boy, but any of the softness and serenity that the boys were used to seeing when it came to you was nowhere to be found. 

Sirius didn’t seem to have an answer for you as his eyes darted nervously between his friends. 

“Is your father kind? Loving? Understanding? Does he tell you he’s proud of you? That he’s glad to have you as his son? That it’s an honour to share his name with you?”

“No.” Sirius finally said quietly. 

“And who helps you with that?” You asked. “When you had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to; who helped you with that?”

Remus heard Sirius swallow around what was likely a growing lump in his throat. “James.”

“Then call me James, Sirius.” You said emphatically, standing and beginning to pack your things.

“Wait, dove. Where are you going?” Remus started reaching out a tentative hand to rest on your wrist.

You slowed your movements but didn’t stop. “I have a Sirius to comfort, and a fire ritual to perform.” You explained simply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

And with that, you turned and disappeared into the rows of books.

“Way to go, Pads.” James grumbled as he began organising his half-written parchment. “You managed to upset a perpetually happy person, and now I’ll never finish this essay.” 

“Well how am I supposed to know everything about that crazy bastard?” Sirius finally blurted out defensively. 

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage, brother?” The voice of Regulus Black drawled as he stepped out from behind the stacks. 

“Make it a habit of spying, brother?” Sirius sneered back. “Tell me; was it my conversations you were concerned with, or Juniors?”

Remus watched as Regulus’ jaw tightened minutely as he seemed to consider his next words.

“I’m not telling you this for your own sake, nor for Barty’s. But, if Y/N is important to any of you, there are some things you ought to know.” He started.

Yes. Important. Mine. Important. Moony chanted, sitting at attention.

“You know the fire that was caused by a magical experiment that went wrong a few years ago in Ottery St. Catchpole? That was Y/N’s house. Both her parents died in that fire.”

James’ head reared back as Sirius sucked in an uncomfortable breath. 

“She lives there with an elderly house elf as her only family. The house elf and Barty.”

“Junior lives with Y/N?” Remus asked quickly; too quickly. He was immediately embarrassed.

“Junior lives with Y/N.” Regulus parrotted. “You know, Sirius, the Black’s aren’t the only family who practice Unforgiveables on their children.”

Regulus seemed to allow that to sit in the air for a moment before he continued.

“And you aren’t the only one who needed a friend to run to.”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Sirius admitted, though he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with his brother.

“I don’t think you are, Sirius. I think you’re feeling properly chastised, and have no qualms painting Barty as the villain in every story all because of the school colours he happens to wear. You were so upset when our family accused you of being sorted into the wrong house, but you are the one who continues to view houses as wrong.”

Sirius looked up at his brother at that. “I am sorry, Reg. I didn’t know.” He admitted earnestly. 

“I’d thought that maybe…maybe out of everyone, you’d understand him the best… he reminds me a lot of you, you know. Stop - don’t look at me like that.”

“Reggie, I am trying, but you’re pushing your luck here.” Sirius groaned.

“I just wanted to let you know.” Regulus continued, though he seemed to be saying that to Remus. “Y/N is wonderful. And accepting, and understanding, and wholesome, and open minded. But she will protect her own. If Evans has to learn to put up with the lot of you for the sake of Potter, you’re going to have to figure out how to put up with me and Barty, because I can assure you that Barty isn’t going anywhere.”

Hearing Regulus’ message for what it truly was, Remus made a mental note:

Do not come between you and Barty.

You found the weather to be quite refreshing today as you made your way to the edge of the Black Lake. 

You felt poorly for Bartemus; you didn’t understand what the point of Crouch Senior continuing to write to his estranged son was, or what  he sought to accomplish.

Perhaps it was just to upset Barty, which upset you even more.

But, you’d performed the “fire sacrifice” as Barty often called it, and burned some white sage to cleanse the energy after disposing of the horrid letter.

And today was a new day. 

There were hardly any clouds in the sky, the grounds were quiet as most students were still in class whilst you had a free period, and Barty had offered you a family heirloom to offer the mermaids today.

You had no sooner lost sight of the Crouch signet ring as it sank to the depths of the Black Lake when the sun in the sky was blocked from behind you. 

You turned to see the figures of Silas, Shirley, and Coraline from Hufflepuff standing over you.

“I know you said she had a brian the size of a goldfish, Coraline, but it seems she rather wants to be a goldfish.” Shirley commented with a malicious smile.

“Returning home to the Grindylow’s, L/N?” Silas jeered. 

Your mother always told you to ignore the mean words; to smile and stay kind when people got mean. 

“What?” Coraline cooed in faux sympathy. “Kneazle got your tongue?”

“You better start talking, witch, because the way I see it; you’ve hurt one of ours.” Silas barked.

“Hurt?” You asked as you stood up, trying to sift through memories of your recent interactions with Hufflepuffs only to come up empty.

“Don’t play dumb; you totally stole Lupin right out from under Amelia.” Coraline explained.

Your heart fell; you certainly hadn’t meant to do that, you hadn’t even realised they were together. You never meant to hurt Amelia, and you were sure Remus must just hate you for this if it was true. 

“Amelia is twice the witch you are; Lupin deserves better than some ditzy airhead.” Shirley spat at you.

Amelia certainly was a nice witch; she was competent, powerful, and quite pretty. She was normal too, not like you; you were odd, a freak. 

“Why do you think he was spending all that time with Amelia when you two first started talking? He didn’t want you, L/N.” Coraline stressed.

He didn’t want you.

That was perhaps true. He didn’t choose this soulmate bond; and he didn’t choose you.

He had seemed more than disturbed in the beginning.

Perhaps he was only being nice to you now because he was simply no longer resisting the bond.

No one should have to live like that; to live their life out of force and obligation. Not Sirius, not Regulus, not Barty, and certainly not Remus.

“I don’t think you heard me.” Silas said as he took a menacing step towards you, and he punctuated every word with a sharp jab of his finger into your shoulder. “Stay. Away. From Lupin.”

And then he used his whole body to shove you backwards, and you were plummeting into the cold dark water of the Black Lake.

continue to part eight here

taglist: @hanniejji , @y0urm0m12 , @c0nsc10usworld , @aphrcdites , @starsval , @thepunisherfrankcastle , @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader , @klazina-couch-potato , @cancelledkaley , @ttulipwritezz , @boo8008 , @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @frostooo , @myriadmoons , @aremuslupinsimp , @simars3 , @stargurl99 , @dreamingofts18 , @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface , @agent-tempest , @xxrougefangxx , @serenadingtigers , @adhxmoony , @hufflepufffangirlqueen , @thebiggestnaturaldisaster , @urmomw4ntsme , @b4tm4nn , @jamieolivia27 , @stqrgirlies-blog , @loving-and-dreaming

[reareaotaku]

No Fun Babysitting

Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol

"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"

His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."

"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.

"She's busy."

"Why can't I watch Manny?"

Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.

"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."

Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"

Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."

"She's going to be here?"

"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.

"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.

Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.

---

"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.

"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."

"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."

You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"

Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.

"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."

"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"

Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."

"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.

"What.. uh, brings you around?"

"Um... What do you mean?"

He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"

"Everyone likes music."

"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.

Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.

"I'm in a band, you should come listen."

"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.

"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."

"Loaded Diaper?"

"Yeah."

"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.

You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"

"Rock."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."

"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."

"Yeah, will do."

He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.

[wheels-of-despair]

Gonna Need A Bigger Bathtub Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman, Eddie, and the rest of the Hellfire nerds have been sentenced to helping out at the school carnival. There will be casualties. (EW kinda hijacked this fic, but it's still a wild night for all!) Contains: Everyone's own personal hell, violations of child labor laws, carnival games, heroic rescues, new pets, a happy ending... for most. Words: 2.8k

"This is such bullshit," Eddie growls, slamming the front door of his van.

"It's one day," you remind him as you slide out of the passenger's seat. "Half a day, really. It's the price of a diploma."

You meet at the back doors, where the rest of Hellfire is piling out into the sweltering parking lot of Hawkins High. On a damn Saturday.

"Eddie?" He turns to you, misery on his face. It's still decorated with traces of fading yellow bruises from the rumble with the jocks. So is everyone else's. "I tell you this with all the love in my heart, but: Suck it up, buttercup."

"Easy for you to say," he sighs, stripping himself of his battle vest and emptying his pockets into an old coffee can. "You're not in the dunking booth."

He slams the back door, locks it, and looks at his keys with hesitation. "I'll hold 'em," you offer. You pocket Eddie's keys, and he throws an arm across your shoulders as you walk toward the field behind the high school where the carnival is being held. The rest of the boys reluctantly follow along behind you.

Your official assignments were distributed last night, after you helped set this shit-show up. Now you're here, at the damn Hawkins High Carnival Fun-Raiser, ready to raise money (and fun!) for the stupid school you're leaving behind in just a few weeks. Eddie's graduating, you remind yourself. This is a small price to pay for that diploma he's been working so hard for.

"Where have you been?" Miss Click screeches when she spots you, waving her clipboard in frustration. "It's almost time to open! Go get set up! Now!"

You answer with mumbles and half-assed salutes as you pass. Today is going to majorly suck.

"This is me," you sigh mournfully, stopping at your assigned booth. The rest of the boys keep trudging toward their own personal hells, but Eddie stays with you to say goodbye. "Close your eyes, hold your nose, think of Ozzy."

"Who told you the secret to giving great ora—" You cut him off with a shove in the direction of the dunking booth, and he turns around and walks backward to grin at you. And then he stumbles, catching himself just in time to avoid a fall. You cover your mouth to hide a laugh, and he flips you the bird before he turns around.

You have been awarded the honor of running the fish bowl game. It's a table full of fish bowls that people try to throw ping pong balls into. If they win, they get a live fish in a plastic bag. You're hoping for a quiet night, banking on the fact that most people probably don't come to the carnival for a new pet.

You're in a good location; you can see most of the boys from your booth. Jeff is in charge of the balloon game across the way, where people throw darts at balloons and pop them for prizes. Grant's manning the Lucky Duck Pond nearby, where toddlers will pick up a duck and feel like a little winner every time. Gareth is glowering at his popcorn cart a little to your left. And when you stand in the corner and lean out a little, you can see Eddie eyeing the dunking booth warily.

Assorted jocks are set up with easy-to-assemble sports games. Uniformed cheerleaders sell raffle tickets. You have Patrick McKinney with some kind of basketball game to your right, and Chrissy Cunningham in the Kissing Booth to your left. That seems sanitary.

"How are we doing over here?" Overlord Click asks.

"Ready and waiting," you deadpan.

"Why haven't you put the fish in yet?"

"What?" you ask.

"You're supposed put the fish in the fishbowls, silly."

You look from the massive bucket of goldfish in plastic bags to the fishbowls.

"You want people to throw balls at the fish?"

"Why do you think it's called the fish bowl game?" she asks.

"Because you toss a ball into a bowl and win a fish?"

"Put the fish in the bowls," she orders.

"And if I don't?"

"Then perhaps Principal Higgins will have second thoughts about letting you and your little friends off so easy," she says through pursed lips. "Now put the fish in the bowls, or I will put someone who can follow simple instructions in charge of this booth."

You'd like to put her in a fish bowl and let kids throw balls at her. Maybe let someone dunk their balls in her bowl, too. But the thought of Hellfire having suffered a week of detention for nothing gets to you. You reach for a fish bag, untie it, and carefully dump the poor little guy into a bowl.

"Every two or three bowls will do," she says. "We don't want to run out of prizes."

She walks away, and you want to chuck a fucking fish bowl at her.

You stare at the bucket of bagged fish and settle for staggering three of them across the front row of bowls so they're visible to people walking by. You apologize to the little guys as you pour them in.

You're surprised by how many people are willing to haul a goldfish around the carnival all day. But they get their dumb balls in and take their bagged fish and carry on. You take money and distribute fish until dusk, when your relief shows up to grant you fifteen minutes to eat and use the bathroom. How generous.

Since you have no appetite, you decide to check on the boys.

"Hey," you grin at Grant, yawning with boredom by his little duck pond. "Gettin' lucky yet?"

"Kill me," he mouths as a new herd of toddlers approaches. You back away from them with a horrified expression, and he laughs as he takes their mom's money.

"How's it going?" you ask Jeff, leaning against the plywood outside of his balloon-filled booth.

"Oh, just great," he rolls his eyes. "Love watching these degenerates throw darts in my direction. If I get hit, I will sue."

"As you should," you affirm.

"I'd rather be here than in the dunking booth, though," he says. "Poor Eddie, man."

You turn and look in Eddie's direction. He looks like a drowned rat.

Because the person trading money for balls is Jason Carver.

"Oh, no," you groan. "See ya," you say quickly. Jeff waves, then presses himself against the plywood wall as another wave of darts are launched toward the balloons.

There's a long line of jocks waiting for a shot to dunk the freak. It looks like he's barely catching his breath between drops, and exerting all his energy into crawling back on the stool.

"Look here, boys," Jason Carver says loudly when he spots you. "Does the little freak girl wanna play?"

"Maybe she does," you respond. "But her break's almost over, so she won't have time unless these gentlemen want to let a lady cut in line."

Jason gives his flunkies a look, and they part for you like a sea of dickheads. Eddie's breathing heavily on his little stool above the tank and still trying to brush his wet hair out of his face from the last dunk.

"Three tries for $3, miss," Jason says sweetly. Eddie's spotted you, and is shaking his head, but you hand over your cash. Jason gives you three balls.

You throw them quickly, before the pricks can figure out what you're doing. You launch them high and far, way over the target and into the woods. You almost wish the gym teacher could've seen it.

"You bitch," Jason seethes.

"And yet, you're the one who has to fetch," you smile, walking around him to the tank. You reach in and hand Eddie a hair tie. "It's almost over," you remind him. Eddie's in the process of tying his hair back when he's sent into the water again. You both yelp in surprise; Eddie at being dropped again without warning, and you from getting drenched by the splash. You turn to see Carver leaning against the target with a smirk on his face. He set it off manually.

"Thanks for that," you smile sarcastically. "It's really hot out here. I don't envy the person who has to suck Higgins' sweaty balls tonight. Maybe you should suggest he take a dip in the tank before the carnival closes."

You leave before he can work out what you've said, checking your watch to see that you need to get back to your fishy booth.

More fish have been put into open containers. Damn you, temp!

Business carries on as usual, until you notice that two elementary-aged kids are standing off to the side and watching you.

"Can I help you?" you finally ask, sick of being stared at like… a goldfish in a bowl.

"My fish died," Brace-Face pouts. His pal Glasses looks on nervously.

"What'd you do to it?"

"I didn't do anything to it!" he argues with a stamp of his little foot. "You gave me a bad one!"

"No refunds or exchanges." Is this an official policy? Probably not. Are you going to indulge this brat? Definitely not.

"Told you you shouldn't have taken it in the bounce house," Glasses mutters. Your eyes narrow.

"You took a live fish into the bounce house?" you ask.

Brace-Face freezes.

"Give it," you command, holding out your hand for the dead fish. He drops the bag into your hand. The poor little fishy is indeed dead; floating upside down in a plastic prison filled with too-warm water. You turn your gaze from the fish to the kids. "Scram."

They do.

"What was that about?" Miss Click asks, appearing out of nowhere.

"His fish died and he didn't want it anymore," you shrug.

"Did you give him a new one?"

"No."

"Good," she sighs. "We can return the live ones and get a refund when the carnival is over."

"The live ones?" you ask.

"There are bound to be casualties," she shrugs. "Anyway, I'm here for a cash pickup."

You take a fistful of bills out of your apron and hand them to her, concocting a plan as she counts the money and writes on her clipboard.

When she leaves, you dart over to Gareth.

"Give me some popcorn bags."

"Why?"

You huff in annoyance. He puts on his customer service voice.

"Small, medium, or large, ma'am?"

"Large."

He hands you a stack.

"Come see me when you get a break," you instruct, tucking them under your arm and returning to your booth.

Fun fact: You can fit four fish bags into one large popcorn bag.

The first batch of refugees (and Eddie's keys) are smuggled away by Jeff after a whispered explanation. He walks away with a grin and a popcorn bag held to his chest, looking like everyone else walking around the carnival with a snack.

Grant and Gareth's breaks come next, and eight more fish are rescued. They seem pleased to be sticking it to The Man and saving lives. Eddie is the last person to get a break, only an hour before the carnival is scheduled to close. This event is violating so many labor laws.

"This is the worst day of my life," he groans, stepping over the side of your booth and collapsing in the grass beside you. He's still dripping from his last dunk.

"Then I really hate to ask, but…" you bite your lip. "I need a favor."

Your sweet Eddie, soggy and wet and miserable, is the hero of the day. He transports twelve fish to the safety of the van. After his last run, he comes back with flushed cheeks and a twinkle in his eye.

"What about these little guys?" he asks, pointing to the fish in the bowls.

"I think their fates have been decided by a crueler god," you sigh.

"Munson! Your break is over! Stop loitering and get back to your booth!" the aforementioned crueler god barks, chasing him off with a threatening wave of her clipboard.

That's alright. Less than an hour to go, twenty-four fish saved, and a diploma with Eddie Munson's name on it being printed very soon. It's worth it.

When the time comes to pack up, Miss Click comes to collect the rest of your cash.

"How much do you get for taking the fish back?"

"How many are left?" she asks, eyes darting from her fistful of cash to the bucket that the boys of Corroded Coffin helped you empty.

"Just the ones in the bowls," you answer.

She performs a quick fish count and cringes. There are ten left.

"I don't even think it's worth trying to take those back," she sighs.

"Can I have them?" you ask. She eyes you suspiciously. "I've grown attached to the little fellas," you shrug, looking to the ground shyly.

"Fine," she laughs. "It's barely a dollar's worth of fish, and saves me an hour. You did a good job, moving so many! I bet there's a lot of happy kids out there, and a lot of dough in here!" She waves the leather zipper pouch containing the funds.

You smile, grateful that she didn't notice how few people were actually walking around with fish.

"We have to return the bowls though, so you'll have to put them in bags when you take them."

"That's alright," you grin. "I can handle bags."

You bag your remaining fish and present them to the boys with a grin when the post-carnival clean-up is complete.

"Look, guys! I get to bring a few fishies home!"

Your joy is met with eye-rolls and groans.

"What the hell are you gonna do with all those?" Eddie asks once you're safely in the fish-filled van.

"Eat them?" Gareth suggests.

"I bet if I put them into the tub with you, they'd eventually nibble you to death," you threaten.

"Nah, don't do that," Jeff says. "His funk will kill the poor little fishies." Gareth smacks him, and a playful slap fight breaks out in the back of the van.

You're all laughing as you pull out of the parking lot… but your smile soon fades. What are you going to do with all of these fish?

"Anybody want to take a fish or two home?" you ask hopefully.

"Nope," the boys in the back say in unison.

"Eddie?"

He puts his hand up, blocking his face from your view so you can't work your puppy-eyed magic. You roll your eyes.

"I'm gonna need a bigger bathtub," you sigh.

Thirty minutes later, after Jeff and Grant are dropped off, Eddie pulls into your driveway.

"How are you going to break it to Mom that you brought home a hundred fish?" Gareth grins.

"I had accomplices," you remind him. "And there are only… thirty-four?!"

Two Days Later

"Okay, babies, are we ready?" you ask, smiling down into one of two buckets full of goldfish.

Much to your surprise, your mother did not murder you for bringing home 34 mostly stolen goldfish. She found the situation hilarious, and declared that she'd always wanted a backyard fish pond anyway.

Your babies were freed from their bags and put into buckets for the night. The next morning, there was a group expedition to the home improvement store.

It took all weekend to get the hole dug and the liner laid and the filters installed, but you all had so much fun doing it.

(Except maybe Gareth, who hissed "I'll get you for this" every time he stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow.)

There's still work to be done with the overall landscaping, but flowers are your mother's department, so those can wait. Now, it's time to introduce your fishies to their new home.

You look to Eddie, standing on the other side of the little pond with a fish-filled bucket of his own.

"Release the fishes!" your mom calls, camera at the ready.

You both start to pour, slowly, and watch the little gold creatures plop into the pond and start swimming. When the buckets are empty, you set them aside and meet in the middle, kneeling beside the pond to peer down into it.

"They look so happy," you whisper.

"Well, yeah," Gareth grunts, dropping to his knees beside you. "They have a memory span of like three seconds."

"So do you," you and Eddie say together, looking away from your fish long enough to smirk at each other.

"That's good, though," Eddie says quietly, wrapping an arm around you. "Because they don't remember the carnival. They've already forgotten all the bad stuff. This is their life now."

"And it's gonna be a good one," you smile, leaning into him.

"How do we forget that fucking carnival?" Gareth mumbles.

Eddie glances back to see how far away your mom is. She's staring at a butterfly on one of her flowers through the camera's viewfinder.

"The good shit's in the van," he whispers. "Our memory loss comes later."

[asliceofzosan]

in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)

Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.

Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.

Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.

He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"

Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?

"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.

"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."

Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.

"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.

Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.

The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.

"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.

"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.

"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.

"Cubed or crushed?"

"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.

"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.

"Your bill, sir."

"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.

There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.

Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.

With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.

"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.

"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.

But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.

"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"

The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.

It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.

Scrub scrub scrub...

"You sure you don't want any help?"

Scrub scrub rinse...

"No."

Scrub rinse dry...

"I really have nothing better to do."

Zoro's eye twitches.

"Good for you."

A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...

"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"

"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."

Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.

"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"

"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.

Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.

"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."

"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.

"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.

Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.

"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.

"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."

"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"

"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"

Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.

"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.

"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"

Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.

"It's not about that."

"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."

"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."

"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"

"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"

"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."

"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"

"But is it your dream?"

Silence. Total utter silence.

Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.

There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.

The All Blue.

In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.

There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.

But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.

Zoro takes one.

And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.

"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."

Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.

Zoro wants to see him shine.

"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."

Sanji doesn't protest.

Zoro takes the rice balls to go.

Never waste food.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

What if Eddie had been hidden at Steve's house after Chrissy?

A/N: This was supposed to be just a headcanon, but it sort of just ran away from me. Oops. It's really long, and there's going to be one more part. I may have mixed up a few things, considering I tried to write it all from memory, and I have the memory of a goldfish.

Summary: They sort of messed up with keeping Eddie safe from the public. Never once did they think that if they could find Eddie through Reefer Rick, then other people could, too? I bet Steve thought Eddie would be safer at his house, but he was unsure of saying it. He wasn't sure if it would be smart or not. Where is the last place they would look? Steve Harrington's house. What if Steve did say it outloud?

"Hey, Dustin," Steve said softly. "If we found Eddie through Reefer Rick, then can't other people find him too?"

They had finally found Eddie and were about to leave the boathouse when Steve got the idea.

"Well, where else do you suggest we hide him, Steve?" Dustin asked.

"Where's the last place, if at all, do you think they would look for him?" Steve asked.

"Well, they would never look for him at your place," Dustin laughed, and then he stopped. "Holy shit, they would never look for him at your place."

Dustin scurried back to the boathouse, coming back with a confused metalhead. Dustin went to climb into the passenger's seat but was pulled back by Eddie and pushed to the back seat.

"Parentals sit up front," Eddie replied, and Steve scoffed. "Especially ones who are new to all this shit. So, who's idea was it for me to hide at Harrington's?"

"It was Steve's," Dustin said casually.

Eddie stared at Steve as he drove off, unsure of what to make of him.

"Well, uh, thanks, man," Eddie said.

"No problem," Steve said, coughing awkwardly.

Once he dropped everyone off, it was just him and Eddie on the drive back.

"So, why are you doing this? Putting me up?" Eddie asked.

"Because Dustin looks up to you, man. I couldn't stand looking him in the eye, knowing something happened to you. I hate to say it, but we all know what's going to happen once they find Chrissy in your trailer. Besides, no one should be alone after discovering this shit," Steve said.

"Speaking from experience?" Eddie asked and Steve blushed.

He reached over to turn on the radio. "Cum on Feel the Noize" blasted through his speakers. Steve began beating on his steering wheel, singing loudly. He snapped his fingers at Eddie until Eddie had no choice but to join in. They were laughing almost all the way to Steve’s house. It had gotten a little awkward when Steve, laughing, had placed his hand on Eddie's knee. After Steve invited him into his house, given him some pajamas, he made him another offer.

"Look, you can pick any room, or you can share my bed if you don't want to sleep alone tonight?" Steve asked.

"You trying to take advantage of me, Harrington?" Eddie asked, and Steve stared at him before he realized that he was joking.

"Yeah, no, you'd know if I was taking advantage of you," Steve said and then paused. "Wait, that doesn't sound right."

Eddie laughed, taking the clothes Steve had given him, and began to strip right in front of him. Steve quickly averted his eyes, looking up at the ceiling when Eddie accidentally pulled down his boxers slightly when he started to take off his pants. Eddie had flashed him his ass.

"Whoops!" Eddie cackled. "I swear I'm not trying to make it up to you by putting on a show."

He pulled on the plaid pajama pants and flopped shirtless on Steve’s bed. He rolled around on Steve’s bed, standing up a couple of times to jump on it, and then finally laid on his back as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Seriously?"

Steve rolled his eyes and slipped into the spot beside him. Steve was startled when Eddie pulled him to his chest. His cheek was pressed up against his tattoos.

"I left my teddy bear at home, so a Stevie bear is going to have to do," Eddie said. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."

"It's not a problem," Steve muttered sleepily.

As Steve’s eyes began to flutter close, he felt a hand drift through his hair. Considering the situation, shouldn't this be the other way around? The next morning, Eddie was gone. Steve jumped up, panicking until he heard music coming from downstairs. He walked into the kitchen to find Eddie wearing one of his blue sweaters and cooking breakfast.

"Morning," Steve greeted and Eddie jumped.

"Good morning, my liege. Our son called. He and the others want to come over to talk," Eddie said.

"Really sticking with the whole he's our kid thing, huh?" Steve asked.

"As smart as he is, that kid would stick a fork into a power outlet if he was curious enough and if we weren't there to stop him," Eddie replied.

"That's fucking true," Steve laughed. "I think there has to be some sort of balance when you're as smart as Dustin. You also have to be just as dumb and reckless."

"You might be onto something, Steve," Eddie said with a laugh.

After breakfast, Steve took a shower and then went to get Dustin, Max, and Robin while Eddie started making breakfast for them.

"I do not want to listen to that little shit complain," Eddie had said.

While they ate breakfast, Dustin gave him the rundown of what had happened over the last couple of years. Meanwhile, Robin was leaning against the counter giving Steve a look.

"He's wearing your sweater, cooking breakfast in your house, and sleeping in your bed. It's all very domestic," Robin said.

"Shut up," Steve said, blushing.

"Gasp. Does Steve Harrington have a crush?" Robin whispered.

"Yeah, I think he's cute, but that doesn't mean I have a crush," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," Robin said.

Just then, the sound of police sirens was heard in the distance. Everyone except Eddie raced outside. They watched as the cops drove by. They were heading towards the trailer park. Steve went inside and told Eddie to lay low before he grabbed his keys. After finding out that Fred, Nancy's friend, was killed, she was now involved in trying to find who or what was behind these attacks. While Robin and Nancy went to the library to find out more about Victor Creel, the others, minus Eddie, went to the counselors and then went to break into the school. They learned that Max was Vecna's next victim. They had all gathered in Nancy's basement, and Steve watched as Max paced, worry etched on her face. It made her look older than she was. Steve hated that. At least Lucas was with them now.

"They're definitely going to think Eddie did it after this," Dustin moped.

"Eddie!" Steve said. "I need to check on him. Make sure that Carver didn't get to him. Nance -,"

"Nancy and I got this. Go," Robin said, ushering him out.

Steve paused on his way out the door and turned to Max.

"Don't bite me for this," Steve said and gave her a one-armed hug.

He was surprised when Max hugged him back tightly and then moved back quickly.

"No one saw that," Max said, glaring at them.

Steve unlocked the door to his house, and as soon as he walked in, once again, he was pushed up against the wall. Eddie had him pinned, his full weight against him. One of his knees was slotted in between Steve’s legs. As soon as he realized who it was, Eddie stumbled back.

"Sorry, I don't know why I keep doing that," Eddie said apologetically.

"Really? Cause I'm starting to guess why," Steve grumbled under his breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, no offense to you, but your house is kind of -," Eddie said.

"Creepy?" Steve asked.

"I was going to say lonely," Eddie said.

"Well, my parents left me alone so many times I probably left an impression on the place," Steve said sarcastically.

"How many times did they leave you alone?" Eddie asked.

"Too many times to count," Steve replied casually.

"Okay. I'm going to do something that's probably a little intimate for two people just starting to get to know one another," Eddie said.

"Because you practically pressing me to your nipple last night wasn't too intimate?" Steve asked.

"I was using you like a teddy bear, Steven!" Eddie exclaimed. "It was completely innocent."

"Lay it on me, Munson."

Eddie threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Shh. Just let this happen," Eddie said. "This is called a hug."

"Fuck you, I know what a hug is, jackass," Steve replied, hugging him back.

"The first time I got a hug after my mom died was from my uncle. After she passed, my dad stopped being my dad. He ignored me a lot and became more reckless. I think I reminded him too much of Mama. One evening, he dropped me off at Wayne's and never came back. Hugs eventually became rather important to both of us. It reminded us that we weren't alone," Eddie said.

Steve hugged him tighter and burrowed his face into his neck. They stayed like that for a long time. Steve pulled back with a sigh.

"A student named Fred Benson died in your trailer park last night," Steve said. "And we discovered that Max is Vecna's next victim."

"Shit."

The next morning, Steve resisted the urge to kiss Eddie goodbye as he slipped out of bed. Eddie managed to mumble a goodbye before turning around and hugging the pillow that Steve had been sleeping on. Steve stared at Eddie's back and bit his lip as he felt a fluttering feeling in his chest. Steve fought another urge to slip back into bed and went to Nancy's.

When he walked into the basement, Max was writing furiously at the desk while Lucas and Dustin watched her. It turned out to be letters for everyone in case something went wrong. Steve was touched that he had gotten one but also concerned.

"So, how's your new roommate?" Dustin asked.

"Well, he kicks in his sleep," Steve said without thinking.

"All the rooms in your house and he's sleeping in your bed?" Max asked.

"After what he saw, would you want to be alone?" Steve asked, blushing.

"Oh my God! You like him!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Okay, just because I also like guys doesn't mean that I have to like the guy who I let sleep in my bed, wear my clothes, and who I sometimes let cuddle me. Okay?" Steve said, throwing up his hands.

"Right. Because I do that with all of my guy friends," Dustin grinned.

"Okay, yeah. He's cute, especially when I walked in the other day when a rollie pollie had gotten into the house. He was just crouching there, watching it scuddle along. He wasn't bothering it or anything. He was just watching it living its life, his head tilted to the side with a fond look - Oh my God, I like him!" Steve exclaimed.

"You know, if it had been a spider, it would have been creepy," Max said.

"Seriously, Max?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, I'm cursed. You can't scold me," she replied.

"You want me to do some infiltration? Find out what his situation is," Dustin asked.

"No, no, no. Don't do that," Steve said quickly. "I told you guys about me in my own time. If Eddie is also the same, he should be given the same opportunity to say it in his own time, right?"

"Right," all three coursed.

"You know I would never tell him that you like him, right?" Dustin asked.

"I wouldn't have told you guys about me if I didn't trust you guys to keep a secret," Steve said.

"We want you to be happy, Steve," Dustin said.

"My happiness isn't dependent on whether I'm in a relationship," Steve said. "My family makes me happy too."

"Dude, your parents suck," Lucas said.

"I wasn't talking about them. I was talking about you guys," Steve said, looking at all of them and looking pointedly at Max last.

Max sniffled and threw her arms around Steve, hugging him tightly.

"You assholes didn't see that either," Max said.

"Oh, dear, I think I've gone temporarily blind," Dustin said, waving his hands in front of his face.

"Shit, man, me too," Lucas said.

"Idiots."

Nancy and Robin had come into the room, announcing their plan to go see Victor Creel, where they found out that he survived by music pulling him out of his hallucination. It's what eventually led to them saving Max when she got cursed at Billy's grave. The imagine of her eyes and her floating in the sky would haunt Steve for a long time. Like Lucas, he would be forever grateful for Kate Bush.

"You guys want to meet up at my house this time?" Steve asked. "I have more room."

Max, Dustin, and Lucas shared a knowing look before nodding. Dustin was first through the door and into Eddie's arms. He was still wearing Steve’s blue sweater and a fresh pair of pajama bottoms. His hair was wet from taking a shower. Once Dustin broke from the hug, Steve swept Eddie up into his own arms. He hugged him tightly, smiling when he smelt his own shampoo in Eddie's hair. Steve told Eddie what happened and Eddie broke the hug.

"Shit, Red, you okay? Well, that's a stupid question. Of course, you're not okay. You know what, you will be. You're tough as hell. In fact, you could just scowl at that fucker and he'd melt. If anyone is made of hellfire, it's you," Eddie said.

Max rolled her eyes before throwing her arms him and hugging him too.

"Oh God! I'm blind again!" Dustin exclaimed.

The next morning, Steve was up before Eddie and everyone else. He decided to make breakfast. As he was cooking, Eddie and Max stumbled in. They were carrying paper and a large box of crayons.

"You guys are up early," Steve said.

"So are you," Eddie pointed out.

"I wanted to make breakfast for everyone," Steve replied.

"I couldn't sleep. Some people kept playing music in my ears," Max said as she started to draw.

Max out her earphones back on as Steve flipped on the radio to Eddie's favorite station. Just then, Nancy skidded into the kitchen and sighed in relief at the sight of Max. She plopped down next to her and watched her draw. Steve placed a cup of coffee in front of Eddie, just the way he liked it.

"Thanks, babe," Eddie said absent-mindedly, and Steve blushed.

Max and Nancy raised their eyebrows. They had heard that. Steve leaned over to see what Eddie was drawing and sighed, pinching his nose.

"Eddie, why the hell are you drawing a bunch of dicks?" Steve asked.

"You are what you want to eat, Stevie!" Eddie cackled, rolling the paper into a ball.

"Not in front of the child, Munson!" Steve exclaimed, and Max rolled her eyes while Nancy struggled not to laugh.

Steve opened his mouth to say something else when Eddie shoved the paper ball into his mouth.

"Eat a bunch of dicks, Harrington!" Eddie cackled and frowned when Steve spat it out. "You're supposed to swallow."

"I wish someone told me that before I ate a bunch," Max quipped.

Steve, Eddie, and Nancy all turned their heads to blink rapidly at her. Steve and Eddie both looked like they wanted to rip off their own ears.

"Relax, guys, I'm joking. Jesus, I'm not ready for that," she said.

Steve sighed in relief, clutching his chest. Meanwhile, Eddie was checking his pulse. Nancy rolled her eyes at both of them, but the color was just starting to come back to her own face.

"What are you drawing, Max?" Nancy asked.

Max explained to her that she was drawing what she had seen in Vecna's red soup mind as Steve had called it. Nancy watched her draw, and she eventually pieced together that Max was drawing Victor Creel's house.

"We'll go there after breakfast," Nancy stated.

"Everyone but me again," Eddie said, pouting.

"You're a wanted man, Eddie," Nancy pointed out.

"Yeah, baby," Eddie said, grinning.

"Not like that," Steve said, rolling his eyes.

"So, there's no one here who wants me like that?" Eddie asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

"I mean, I didn't, I didn't mean that no one - KIDS, BREAKFAST!" Steve yelled.

Eddie cackled into his cup of coffee. They heard the sound of feet pounding down the stairs. Dustin and Lucas came running into the kitchen to fix themselves food. Robin came stumbling into the kitchen a moment later, rubbing sleep from her eyes. After they all sat down to eat, a news report came on the radio. Patrick McKee died at Lover's Lake. Steve had been right. They did try to find Eddie at Reefer Rick's. Everyone stared at Eddie, and he sighed.

"Go, I'll clean up," Eddie said.

Everyone started rushing out the door, and that's when Eddie noticed that Steve had forgotten his keys.

"Stevie!" Eddie cried, and Steve skidded to a stop as everyone was leaving. "You forgot something, big boy!"

"Right!"

Steve rushed back into the kitchen, cupped Eddie's face, and kissed him before running out the door.

"You forgot your fucking keys," Eddie muttered in shock.

Meanwhile, Steve was diving into the back of Nancy's station wagon with Dustin. As Nancy was driving away, Steve realized what he did and he hit his forehead.

"What?" Dustin asked.

"I forgot my fucking keys on the counter."

Part 2 (hopefully the final part) is coming soon!

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Druid Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Jaheira or Halsin is the main speaker/subject or I think their reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Astarion_Jaheira_OskarsBeloved]

Astarion: Cazador always warned us to stay clear of this neighbourhood. Never said why, though.

Jaheira: The last spawn who tried was sunk into the cobblestones and left for the sun to find. I had an unfortunate taste for theatrics, in my youth. {Devnote: A little abashed, but shrugging it off}

Astarion: Ah. Yes, that was probably it.

[PB_Halsin_Jaheira_Park]

Halsin: Ah, a glimpse of nature. Like a sip of water to parched lips, eh, Jaheira? {Devnote: content}

Jaheira: Baldurians think all druids to be hay-haired idlers, Halsin. Perhaps we ought not speak of nature - but high art, or politics? {Devnote: ‘change the record, all these city folk think we’re hippies as it is’ A little tongue in cheek, she agrees with him entirely}

Halsin: I think on them also. But nothing matches the splendour of an ancient tree. {Devnote: Unfazed}

Jaheira: It is so. And, should one favour bear-form, that tree in particular makes for excellent back-scratching… {Devnote: Idle, teasing - offering a direct tip to Halsin under the guise of a hypothetical}

[PB_Shadowheart_Halsin_ROM_Act3]

Shadowheart: Halsin, if I were a druid, what animal do you think I’d be? {Devnote: Idle banter, either Loyal/Reject Shar arc}

Halsin: Given your memory issues, perhaps a goldfish? {Devnote: Gently teasing}

Shadowheart: I’d hoped for something a bit more exotic… but would you carry around my fish bowl, feed me flakes of food?

Halsin: Only the finest, of course.

[PB_Laezel_Halsin_Act3_ROM_001]

Lae’zel: You’ve quite the appetite, Halsin. I’d wager you’ve bedded more of your foes than you’ve felled.

Halsin: Hmm. A challenging sum. The chimera has three heads… but does it still count as one? {Devnote: Not offended, thinking back}

Lae’zel: Must have been a challenging kill.

Halsin: Kill… yes. {Devnote: ‘Yep, that’s definitely what I mean.’}

[PB_Halsin_Shadowheart_SteelWatchFoundry]

Halsin: The birthing ground of those steel monstrosities. I would feel little sorrow if this place should close forever. {Devnote: some disdain (in a factory making robo-sentries)}

Shadowheart: Oh come on, you have to be at least a little impressed by the craftsmanship. There's only so much you can do with wood. {Devnote: gentle poking}

Halsin: Not so, in my experience. There is little I cannot whittle.

Shadowheart: Did you do that on purpose...? {Devnote: half-amused groan}

[PB_Halsin_Gale_ROM_Act3]

Gale: Halsin, you must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life.

Gale: Anything you'd like to pass on to a strapping, love-struck wizard such as myself?

Halsin: Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots - what suits me may be a poor fit for you.

Gale: Ah. Well, there's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'. {Devnote: Accepting the answer. Thinks 'be yourself' is naff advice}

Halsin: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the One of Us au, the power of visions of past and future that u mentioned could have a lot of potential.

I imagine Reader has little, or maybe no, control over when, where, or what when it comes to their visions. They could get a vision of the end of the world while in algebra on Tuesday and then a vision of their friends' past dates while in the Danger Room on Wednesday.

For the big, important visions, like future attacks or potential threats, they warn the adults and the rest of the team, but for smaller visions, they leave it on a need to know basis because their friends need to learn and make mistakes. Tho reader may nudge them in the right direction.

I'm sorry did I say nudge? I meant SHOVE cause a reader with visions would ABSOLUTELY NO CHILL AT ALL.

Their powers aren't useful at all in combat. Everyone else can do something in a fight. But Reader doesn't, so they make themselves useful in everyday life.

The group knows Reader always has their best interests at heart, but it always throws them for a loop when their normally sweet friend suddenly starts acting really protective and aggressive.

When Duncan starts dating Jean and everyone tries to be polite, except for Scott and Reader. Scott's reasoning is obvious, and his dislike is mostly harmless. Reader? Is about 5 seconds away from biting Duncan and is actively crashing dates. (Reader knows he's a racist bully ass. They know what he'll do.)

There's a solid month where Reader kept crawling into Kurt's bed, snuggling him and following him around. At first, he just thinks they're just being cuddly, then everything about his birth and his mom and the experiments come out. Then, it's like oh, that's why.

Reader gets a vision of Logans past and has to deal with the fact they know more about this man than he does.

They get a vision of Jean getting kidnapped by Fred and decides to NEVER EVER LEAVE HER ALONE EVER. Seriously Jean how does this keep happening to you?!

Reader approaches Rogue first out of everyone cause they know she's Kurt sister and so desperately wants to show her she's not alone.

Ooooooo... I don't known if I'll choose this as the canon power for Reader in 🍁One Of Us🧡, but let's explore it for a minute, shall we? (If you want to explore the other potential powers and help figure it out, I'm okay with it! I like when anons and hivelings do so! Thank you for this ask, @sugar-soda!)

Reader is such a worried, odd friend. They seem to always know something about you, no matter if they've met you or have ever even heard of you. They sometimes stutter or mumble- other times they're loud and assertive- sometimes they're sweet as pie and cuddly- and sometimes they glare daggers at you like you murdered their goldfish. With Reader, no one ever knows what to expect.

Duncan, the school football star, for example, is given death glares, is given at least three shovel talks (complete with an angry/protective Scott for back-up), he's given notes telling him to break up with Jean or else, he's told to be a better person or he'll regret it, Reader outdoes him in the poetry club (he joined to impress Jean), etc. . The consensus is Reader, the school's go-to life advice person, despises him, and no one knows why... (Then Duncan amd Jean break up, and now everyone knows Reader knew somehow those two wouldn't work together...)

Reader is gentle and open with Rogue, the school goth girl and lone wolf, on the other hand. They hold the door open for her, they ask if she needs a break during group projects or study sessions, they scare creepy students away from her, they offer to walk her home when the Brotherhood teens left her a few days, they even give her space if she asks for it. No one gets it; why bother with someone they don't even know or seem to get along with? Until the next week Rogue is with the Xavier teens, eating lunch and sharing classes and being overall friendly amd cordial, and once again Reader seems to have known it was possible to be friends with her (the school wonders how that was possible...)

Then Reader tries to share food with Todd, who has an odd (really gross) smell and who steals from others, and no one in any clique can figure out what Reader is up to now. They just leave food for the toad-like teen, then go about their day. Todd eats it, enjoys it, and there's always three meals each day waiting by or in his locker, enough for him, and then later, enough for the other boys at the Brotherhood home. The Xavier teens can't figure out why, neither can the school, but Todd knows, and tells everyone to not mess with his friend/buddy, be it the jocks or the bullies or even his group (turns out the Brotherhood don't have a lot of money for meals, so Reader pulls together their cooking skills and leftover ingredients to make them enough food for each day. Todd knows this, and accepts it as a sign of friendship; Xavier in the end ends up sending them money for a food budget so Reader will leave them alone...)

Logan, tough as nails and deadly as a wolverine, is struggling with his nightmares and wakes up at night, not able or willing to fall back asleep, and wanders into the kitchen late at night. Except Reader is also there, and keeps him company, pushing a plate of meat over to their teacher/guardian and saying they couldn't sleep either. It becomes a ritual every Thursday night, the two of them sitting in silence sometimes, or watching some old western movies, sometimes Reader even opens about their past, saying it's okay to not remember certain parts of their trauma, and it's just as okay to one day remember it. If Logan needs a hug, they give it, if he needs quiet, they give it, if he's about to go out, Reader warns him to not chase stray cats or to jump headfirst into the unknown (the teens find it strange, and so does Logan, up until when Logan destroys the remains of the Weapon X labs and connects the dots Reader knows more than he does about his past, yet he's not mad, just worried about what they saw...)

H*ll, Reader even sees the past of Sabretooth during a mission where they fought the Acolytes and end up in a cave-in, and all they can do is stare at him with sad, haunted eyes and apologize for what he lost and what he's had to go through (the Acolytes think it's creepy at first, Magneto is suspicious, and at first Sabretooth is angry- until Reader reveals they know his life was hard, and they don't know the depth of how it feels, but they know what it feels like to be abandoned, and it isn't fair, even to him... and surprisingly he let's Reader walk away unscathed...) (Xavier and Storm and Logan then decide to keep Reader away from the more deadly adult members of the Brotherhood, in case their powers aren't as welcomed the next time...)

(You can bet if Reader says something, after awhile the teens start to listen and try to go down what they think is the right path... Of course, Reader is trying to stay on the path where everyone is happy and okay and alive, which is hard, considering how traumatized everyone else is, and how scared they are to lose the people they view as family... which does include Reader...)

[miryum]

Mum and Dad (Newt x Reader)

AU: “You’re the mom friend of the group and I’m the dad friend of the group, I think we should get together, y’know for the kids.” 

I know that Minho is totally the dad of the friend group, but we’re switching that to Y/n for a sec. Newt is still the mom cause we love our British Glade mother. 

F/s: favorite sport 

F/t: favorite team of said sport

“Newt, where do you keep your beer?” Thomas rifled through Newt’s fridge. 

“Uh, bottom left.” Newt said from the stove. “Though this is your second. Watch out.” Thomas sighed but put the beer back.

“And… uh, did you buy the feminine products?” Sonya nudged.

“Yep. They're in the bathroom in the little brown box above the toilet.” Newt nodded, glancing back at his sister. 

“Thanks.” Sonya rushed to the bathroom. 

“Thanks, mom.” Minho joked from the couch. Y/n glared at him.

“Hey, Newt?” Y/n called to the boy. “Do you need any help in there?” 

“No, I’m good. I’m almost done. And you already helped with drinks.”

“Okay.” Y/n sat back and held a hand out to Brenda. 

Brenda stared at her hand before wondering, “What are you doing?”

“I want some of your goldfish.” 

“No!” Brenda shielded her food. “Go get your own!” Y/n gave her a look and Brenda sighed before offering her some. 

“Thanks!” Y/n happily crunched on the snack. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Gally said, heading to sit down next to the girl. “Could I borrow a ten?” Newt scoffed from the kitchen. Gally rolled his eyes at the noise. 

“What for?” Y/n twisted away from him. “This is, like, the fifth time!” 

“I know, but I’ll pay you back!” Gally whined. Teresa laughed at his lie.

Y/n sighed and said, “No you won’t.” Yet she still pulled out her wallet and handed him a ten dollar bill.

“Thank you!” Gally snatched the money and hopped out of his seat. 

“Food’s ready!” Newt called. 

“Here, lemme help.” Y/n dashed to help him. She took the heaviest dish, despite Newt’s protests, and plopped it on the coffee table. “Minho, change the channel to f/s.” 

“I’m watching the amazing world of gumball!” Minho protested. 

“Minho, come on.” Y/n said, “F/t is playing!” 

“Newt, it’s your TV.” Minho pleaded, “Tell Y/n I can watch cartoons.”

“Hey, you heard her. It’s f/t.” Newt chided as he carried the pizza out.

“Thanks Newt.” Y/n kissed him on the cheek, eliciting a blush from him that she didn’t see. 

Minho huffed and muttered something to Brenda and Sonya who laughed.

“What?” Newt asked as he sat down. 

“It’s just…” Sonya started, “you’re kinda like the mum of the group and Y/n/n’s like the dad. Just think it’s interesting.”

“And why is that interesting?” Y/n asked, brows furrowed as she served everyone else before herself. 

“Well,” Sonya coughed before continuing. The rest of their friends grinned while avoiding eye- contact. Sonya, being Newt’s sister and one of Y/n’s close friends, had been specifically chosen for the task. “Mom and dads are usually… together. In an intimate relationship. It’s obvious you two like each other. Why not get together for us kids?” 

Y/n’s face flushed at the end of her sentence and she couldn’t look at Newt. “Just… put on the game.” She finally managed to say. 

Minho shot a tense glance at Thomas. Did they do the right thing by trying to force their friends to see their feelings? 

The low mumblings of conversation slowly stirred as the f/s played. Y/n still couldn’t look at Newt, her face still bright red. 

“You okay?” Newt whispered to her. “Sonya shouldn’t have said that if it made you uncomfortable.” 

“No, no.” Y/n stretched her feet out onto the ottoman. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable.” She didn’t take her eyes off the TV.

“Seriously, are you okay?” 

“I- I guess I’m trying to gauge your emotions. Did you feel disgusted when Sonya said we should date?” Y/n took a big bite of her pizza.

“No! No!” Newt loudly said, gaining the attention of their friends. He lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t mind at all if we dated.”

“So you want to date?” Y/n asked hesitantly. 

“Do you?”

“I mean, I don’t know.”

“Oh my god!” Thomas cried out, “Just go on a shucking date!” 

Y/n went back to staring at the TV, her blush now ten- fold.

The conversations returned. After a while of awkward silence between Y/n and Newt, Y/n broke the silence. “Coffee? Tomorrow, 10 am?” 

Newt hid his smile. “I would love that. Can’t wait.”

“Thank god.” Brenda mouthed to Sonya who was just happy to see her friends find happiness.

[pedge-stuff]

Fic request: Pedro or reader has an intense panic attack in a public. Reader has to talk him through it and calm him down enough so they can leave the event. Holding each other in bed.

clean up, aisle 4 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: sometimes, you deal with the downsides.

——————————————————————————

"I feel like we tried this and didn't like it."

Pedro inspects the back label on the box— some kinda chickpea flour protein pasta 'alternative' that came less-than-highly recommended by his personal trainer— before re-shelving it alongside the other sad, fake noodles.

The grocery store has become a little bit of a minefield. Gladiator 2 prep was exciting, until the rigorous hours in the gym started requiring a specialized diet. He can't eat carbs, you don't eat meat, both of you love frozen pizza, and neither of you really want to participate in the whole classic disordered Hollywood eating thing. And yet, here you are.

Home-cooked meals have consisted mostly of roasted vegetables and dry, baked proteins. You're attempting to eat "clean" in solidarity with him, but...

"We don't need pasta," Pedro laments, turning away from the shelving altogether. "What's left?"

You pull the notes-app list back up. "Whatever kind of frozen fruit you want for smoothies, plus pitted dates. I'd love those wasabi almonds from last month, but I dunno if they have them again. We could get Skinny Pop, if you want it?"

A grimace. "That's fine."

"We don't have to get it, Pedge."

"It's fine, really. We need something for the movie tonight, right?"

His shoulders slump as he pushes the cart onwards. The back right wheel is making a little squeaking sound, sharp and grating on your last damn nerve. This grocery store feels more and more like a minefield with every aisle turn. The balance between supporting Pedro in his training, and wanting him to just say fuck it and be happy, feels entirely precarious.

"Almonds," Pedro mutters, veering right, around an obnoxiously large Goldfish display and the toddler sobbing loudly in front of it. An obstacle course of bright lights and loud sounds. "Almonds, almonds—"

"Ohmygod, Pedro Pascal."

Immediately, no. Two college-aged, tri delta-looking, fresh-from-the-salon type girls, grinning like they'd won the damn lottery. Fans— no one he actually knows says "Pay-drow."

The wheel squeaks again as they grind to a forceful halt; the girls are standing directly in the path of the cart.

"Should we ask for a picture?" They speak at full volume, to each other, as if he isn't standing right in front of them.

"We have to, for the gram. Oh my god."

"Maybe Deuxmoi will pick it up."

Pedro grimaces as they start rummaging for their phones. He's always generous with his time— sometimes a little too generous, so concerned with hurting peoples' feelings that he'll take selfies through the drive-thru window, or walking the dogs. Even one memorable time, pumping gas.

Only at night, lights off, tucked away, does he ever confess his frustrations. As though he should not want privacy; as though being grateful was more important than being safe. Guilt eats him in ways that you alone cannot heal. All you can do is hold him a little tighter.

A phone is thrust towards you. "Can you take a picture of us?"

Before either of you can react, one girl has her arm over Pedro's shoulder. The other, on his waist. He's never been one to shy away from affection— had been pushing the cart single-handedly, with the other on the small of your back, since the dairy section— but that intimacy does not extend to strangers.

They are laughing, chattering— something about Game of Thrones. You distinctly make out so sexy and slay.

But you hardly register them, instead frowning at your partner as you snap a couple pics without looking. He is frozen, eyes fixed somewhere past you, though he offers a wan smile for the camera. Answers a question you can't hear with a half-hearted laugh, before gesturing to the next aisle. A polite gesture, too far from the fuck off on the tip of your tongue.

Pedro attempts to move away, but the girl's arm is still snaked around his waist. Trapped. She reaches to wrap the other around, attempting to encircle him in a teddy bear-style hug. This, here, is the limit.

With a rough, jerky motion, he forces her off of him. "Sorry, sorry," he says quickly. "We need to go."

"But—"

If you push the cart, and it happens to roll over a perfectly manicured foot, well...

Pedro is a few paces ahead of you, stalking towards the almonds like they owe him a grave debt. His fists clench and unclench at his side.

Not good.

His tells for a panic attack are well-catalogued in your brain. You push the cart to one side, mouthing an apology to the man you almost plow down, before approaching Pedro with caution. His chest heaves as he frowns at the Blue Diamond display, breaths noticeably shallow.

"Pedro." Fighting muscle memory, you don't touch him. Don't want to startle him, though concern burns a hole in your own diaphragm.

"Mm."

"Baby, look at me."

His eyes squeeze shut, instead. "I'm good. I'm good."

"Why don't you go to the car, I'll finish up quick."

"I'm good," he insists, voice cracking.

"It's OK if you're not good."

A hitch in his breath, and Pedro's face crumbles. "Just startled me, is all," he whispers, brown eyes pooling remorsefully. "So stupid. Can't even make it through the fucking supermarket to get my fucking fruits and veggies."

You reach for his hand, lithe fingers prying his clench fist apart. Soothe the red-crescent divots in his palm with the pad of your thumb. Wait for him to continue, as if you're not both standing in the middle of the nuts-candy-and-coffee section.

"Everything is just a lot right now," Pedro says, dragging in a shaky but deeper inhale. His other hand swipes across his cheek.

Mentally, you catalogue how difficult it would be to return the items in your cart; how fast you could retrace your steps, and rush the man home.

You bring his palm to your lips, instead. "Go take a smoke," you suggest. "And then we can get the fuck outta here."

"Someone's gonna post it online again. Everyone's talking about how I reek of cigarettes."

"You have reeked of cigarettes as long as I've known you. They are late to this." Tugging playfully on the hand you still hold, you wait for him to crack the barest, thinest of smiles.

"You still love me, though."

"Enough to fight off anyone else who tries to dry-hump you in this Whole Foods."

Slowly, you both retreat to the abandoned cart. "Can we—" Pedro stops himself, unsure of how to ask.

"Whatever it is, babe, yes."

He pushes forward. "What if I was asking if we could get naked right now and run through the supermarket parking lot so people would think we were crazy and leave us alone forever?"

"Then I'd start untying my shoes. It'd be hard to pull my jeans over 'em."

The wasabi almonds are, finally, pulled from the shelf. You proceed to the freezers. "That's not what I was gonna ask," he admits, grabbing a bag of chunked mango.

"Bummer."

"Can we just get some normal fucking popcorn? If one night's worth of fake butter is what does me in, someone else can be the Gladiator, I give up."

For him? Anything.

[hestzhyen]

Insect Symbolism in the Edgy Sword Manga

Hi internet void, it's Mushibachi time (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧. Sorry not sorry for the blatant Hakuri agendaposting. Praying Mantis (Chs. 19 & 30)

The first time we see an insect used as symbolism is during Hakuri's introduction monologue, before we even see the guy himself. It's the very first insight we get into his character and thus extremely important.

Love how Hakuri says he "gritted his teeth and pushed through it" only for Hokazono-sensei to put that to the lie in the first really good look we get at him a few panels later. Hakuri's thoughts about himself don't match up with his real nature and image, which is a neat bit of foreshadowing.

Praying mantises are usually seen as signs of good fortune and symbols of bravery, as well as perseverance despite one's own frailty. So when Hakuri repeatedly refers to Chihiro as a "samurai"...

What a romantic you are, Hakuri! Jokes aside, samurai are often heavily romanticized as stoic yet principled lone warriors wandering the land, never able to truly settle down or find peace until their troubled past has been laid to rest (or they die).

We are probably meant to understand that he's enamored by Chihiro's courageous display of acting as a human lightning rod. Hakuri constantly recalls Chihiro standing up to continue fighting and draws inspiration from it through the whole arc, despite usually meeting with failure. Thanks to his samurai "lighting his helpless existence on fire" (jfc Hakuri) he's able to keep going in spite of his own weakness. Chihiro's bravery, his samurai spirit, is Hakuri's inspiration.

This is called back to in Ch. 30, when Hakuri is unexpectedly separated from Chihiro and left to contend with his main abuser (Soya) on his own.

Please be kinder to yourself, Hakuri!

This is the true turning point for Hakuri's character. Up until now, he's been doing what's asked of him and offering the help he thinks he's qualified to give. But once things go awry in the hallway here he's left with a choice- wait to be rescued again, or attempt to save himself. He chooses the latter and, despite not seeing success at first, finally comes into his own by believing in himself. Despite his weakness, he keeps persevering. And thanks to the confidence he gained from Shiba's instruction and Chihiro's reciprocated faith in him, Hakuri fulfills his destiny as a genius sorcerer from a famous lineage. He's able to finally put Soya -the manifestation of his own self-doubt and misery- to rest.* Hakuri was the real samurai all along! *gasp*

So all this to say: the mantis is not only Hakuri's ideal of bravery that he lost as a child and found again in Chihiro, it's also a symbol of his own efforts to gain strength as well. A concise symbol that thoroughly encapsulates his whole arc.

(*There's a chance that Soya is still alive and can come back to trouble Hakuri and Team Goldfish again, but his purpose for this arc is done.)

Butterfly (Chs. 40-41)

This was revealed last week, but I was obsessing over flowers. I mean I wasn't sure if this was going to be a recurring theme, yeah. That. Anyway, this is pretty on-the-nose stuff to let us know that Kyoura has been transformed after using Magatsumi. Reborn into something else, perhaps. Whatever he is now is somehow related to Magatsumi's wielder and has made him cursed as fuck.

No I'm not posting the spread, we've been jizzing over it for a week already.

But wait, there's more! The design is reminiscent of a swallowtail, (specifically an Alpine Black or Common Mormon).

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Papilio_maackii_male.JPG#/media/File:Papilio_maackii_male.JPG

Swallowtail butterflies are closely associated to death in Japanese folklore. Specifically, they are thought to act as a messenger between the spiritual realm and the world of the living, as well as a means of transferring souls to the afterlife. So yeah this indicates a 1000% increase of Kyoura is Dead and Possessed stocks IMO. It also has some terrifying implications for Magatsumi's power and why it's so feared in-universe. The true wielder can just casually possess anyone who holds it and turn them into a one-man force of nature, apparently? Is that why he's sealed up like a demon by the Kamunabi? I mean yes, but... hoo boy it will be rad to see the full power unleashed. This is the only ability we've fully seen and it's enough to have me spooked (waiting for more details on the spider web ability and the mystery third one before going on a rant about those.)

Anyway, I'm interested in hearing opinions if anyone managed to get through all this. Stay fresh bachibros.

Sources.

https://www.atshq.org/praying-mantis-symbolism/

https://spiritualcalmness.com/swallowtail-butterfly-symbolism/

https://visitjapan.blog/what-do-butterflies-symbolize-in-japan/

https://truespiritanimal.com/black-swallowtail-symbolism-and-meaning

[eufezco]

omg, I’m not the original requester, but could you make a part two of the request where Tyler and readers daughter offered him a goldfish? I’d love to see how it goes when reader goes back to help Tyler and stuff!

pt. 1

once you got to your car, you carefully sat your daughter on her car seat and caressed her cheeks. "you okay, baby?" she looked at you with those big dark green eyes and softly nodded her head. before you started driving, you texted bianca to know if she could spend the night with them. she didn't take a minute to answer you with a 'sure'.

you drove to bianca and xavier's house. your fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel while you looked through the mirror at your daughter sitting at the back of the car. she was calm, half asleep, her eyes closed and then opened again when the car made any slightly abrupt movement. she recognized tyler and from what it looked like, tyler recognized her. and she wasn't scared, she didn't cry, she didn't scream. tyler did not try to attack her and he didn't try to run away from her either.

"okay, baby, we're here. are you excited to see auntie bianca?"

your daughter nodded and rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists as you picked her up. you kissed her cheek and made sure that her coat was covering her well enough. you walked with her in your arms to the door and knocked on it a couple of times.

"i'm so sorry. i know it's too late but tyler-"

"it's okay." bianca nodded, understanding. she didn't need you to say anything else, the look of terror on your face was enough. "do you need me to go with you?"

"no, it's- it's fine."

xavier appeared behind bianca and also asked if you needed any help. you rejected the offer again, thanking both of them. tyler could maybe not recognize bianca and xavier as he did with you and your daughter and things could go wrong. even though you had bianca to use her voice on tyler in the past, this time you preferred to do it by yourself. "come here, little bug." xavier took your daughter from you and she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. the boy went inside the house again, caressing your daughter's hair and humming something to her. bianca and xavier were her favorite babysitters. they both loved kids but they were just not for them, that's why they were the perfect uncle and aunt.

"if you need anything, just call us." bianca added. you nodded, thanking them one more time for taking care of her and then you left.

tyler was laying on the ground when you arrived, naked, and covered in blood and dirt. you sat next to him and placed his head on your legs. before that, you tried your best wrapping his body with the towel that you grabbed from your car. even though his body was hot and he maybe even had some fever, it was all just because of the adrenaline. you knew that he was still conscious because of how he quietly whined in pain when you moved his body. you apologized and caressed his hair. his chest softly heaved as he gasped for air. tyler's eyes were practically closed finally being able to let his guard down now that you were with him.

with all the strenght tyler had left in his body he asked you. "did i hurt her?"

you shook your head, some tears rolled down your cheeks. why did someone as precious as tyler have to go through something like this?

"no, baby. no. you didn't. she's okay." and it was as if he had been waiting for you to tell him that your daughter was safe to pass out in your arms. his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, and it was becoming more difficult for him to stay conscious. "no, no, no. we gotta leave, tyler. come on, we can't stay here." you gave some soft taps on his cheek to keep him awake. he had some scratches on his chest and his belly, his face was bruised, and his whole body was shaking. if you stayed there any longer it would be worse for him. you threw one of tyler's arms over your shoulders as the other one wrapped around his body and you stood up with difficulty. he complained again and you apologized one more time.

he could barely stand on his feet, all the weight of his body was on you and the only thing that kept him from fainting was all the pain he felt every time you took a step. "we're almost there."

you gently let his body fall into the back seat of the car, making sure that he was lying on one of his sides in case he passed out. you got in the car and drive to your house as fast as you could. not caring about speed limits. you were sure that the sheriff would understand.

his wounds were bad. some of them were really dirty, and you were afraid that they could get infected. you tried your best to clean them and cover them so that they would not worsen.

after treating his wounds, you used a sponge you washed him as best as you could. his body was sore so every move you made a little more roughly than normal had tyler hissing. his eyes were sad and lost, and he didn't say a word since you both got home. you helped him to get out of the bathtub and sit on the toilet lid, his legs were still weak to stand for more than one minute. you threw a towel over his shoulders. his eyes still not daring to meet yours.

"tyler... say something, please." you said sitting on your heels to be able to meet his eyes. he shook his head. his hands went to cover his face.

"i coul've hurt her badly."

"no, tyler. i was there. you know that i would have stopped you if i had seen you with intentions of hurting her."

"i could've killed her! i could've killed you too-!"

"tyler!" he went silent when you called his name. "this was bound to happen sooner or later, okay? whether you like it or not." your words had tyler swallowing nervously. "she's our daughter, baby. i know that you wanted to keep this away from her as long as you could but at some point she would have had to know. and maybe it's better if she can normalize it as soon as possible."

"she's gonna hate me."

you shook your head and removed tyler's hands from his face and caressed the back of them with your thumbs. "she could never do that." but tyler was still on his head. you stayed like that for a couple of seconds, giving him some time to think.

"do you even remember anything about what happened?"

tyler nodded. he remembered it with some gaps but he did remember his daughter's big green eyes staring at him, curious about the situation, he remembered her sticky fingers when he took the snack from her, and then he remembered you telling him that you'd be back.

"you know how much she loves those snacks."

tyler nodded again. he always sneaks some of them to her before dinner which you told him not to do, but he just can resist the cuteness of your daughter asking for them. you were still giving soft strokes to tyler's hands. "it was the last one she had, and she decided to give it to you because she knew that it was you. i'm sure that when she grows enough, she'll understand that this is something you didn't choose."

tyler's eyes met yours, wanting to believe what you were saying. you were educating your daughter on many values, but the most important one was respect. since she was the daughter of two outcasts, her environment was full of very diverse people. from werewolves, centaurs, and gorgons, to witches, vampires and sirens. you thought she could perfectly add hydes to the list, even more when it was about tyler, her favorite person in the world. "she'll love you the same, and you won't lose your favorite parent priviledge, if that's what you are so worried about."

tyler chuckled.

"okay, let's go to bed." you stood up and ran your hand through the curls on the top of his head to plant a kiss on his forehead.

the next morning tyler woke up with one of his cheeks being violently sucked as a kiss by his daughter. she climbed onto bed and sat next to tyler, he encircled her body with one of his arms so she wouldn't fall. you made breakfast for him so that he could eat it in bed. you gently placed the tray on the bed and sat with them. the little girl pointed at one of tyler's scratches on his face, one really close to his eye. her eyebrows arched in worry and she cooed looking at you and waiting for an explanation of what happened to her daddy.

"daddy will be okay."

"you want a strawberry?" tyler asked her, trying to distract her from his wounds and wincing as he tried to reach the fruit for her. you were quick to move the bowl closer to him. he picked up the fruit and your daughter bit the tip of it, mostly just sucking the juice out of it. her lips were pink and she scrunched her whole face because the strawberry was too sour for her. tyler showed a little smile and the girl felt so embarrassed she had to hide her face in the crook of her daddy's neck, wrapping her tiny arms around it too. tyler hugged her back against him and kissed her head, still smiling at the little girl's reaction.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Sneak Peek: Body in the Abyss, Heart in Paradise ch 4

So, somehow summoning Hua Cheng brought the angst. I'd blame Meatbun, but writing angst is also a very me problem. Anyways apologies this took 84 years and I'll let you see some Hualian ♡ (literally this sneak peek could've been Jun Wu themed... could you imagine? After all this time. Evil).

***

Inside the casino, the earlier boldness Xie Lian felt melted away into uncertainty. Alone with Hua Cheng, he wasn't sure what he was trying to achieve. With all the work he'd been doing with Jun Wu, he'd forgotten how to exist with another person, without expectation. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he performed his best impersonation of a goldfish. Hua Cheng smiled and heat instantly burned beneath Xie Lian's skin, he looked away and turned a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

'Shall we go to the bar?'

'Have you tried any of the games?'

They spoke at the same time, now it was Hua Cheng's turn to look embarrassed. Rather than prolong his unease, Xie Lian quickly answered his question, 'I haven't, my luck is terrible.'

'Then allow me to introduce you to a starter game.'

Hua Cheng cast a glance across the casino floor, Xie Lian followed his gaze until his eyes fell on a dice table, 'That one,' he said.

Xie Lian's offer of a simple drink appeared to be growing more and more elaborate by the second. Usually, changes to the pattern of things left him anxious and afraid. Yet somehow, Hua Cheng made the unexpected seem exciting. Somehow, he made Xie Lian think that surprises could be good again.

'Unless, you don't want to,' Hua Cheng said, a flash of uncertainty crossed his face, but it didn't last long enough for Xie Lian to ponder its meaning further.

'I want to,' Xie Lian said, it had been a long time since someone chose to spend time with him without expectation, curiosity propelled him forward. He followed Hua Cheng without question.

At the table, the dealer handed him a shaker.

'How do you play?'

'I'll show you.' Hua Cheng moved closer, Xie Lian's breath hitched at the unexpected closeness. An infinitesimal space remained between Hua Cheng's chest and Xie Lian's back, he reached forward, hands hovering milimeteres from his own, 'May I?' Hua Cheng's voice was so close, Xie Lian didn't trust himself to speak. Instead he nodded. Somehow, in the minutes since they'd been introduced, Hua Cheng had unknowingly managed to return Xie Lian to the flustered, inexperienced soul he'd been before he entered Jun Wu's office that day.

Hua Cheng placed his hands atop Xie Lian's, 'Follow my lead.'

Together they tilted the dice shaker, up and down forwards and back.

'Not too fast, take your time.'

'You make it sound so lewd.'

Hua Cheng snickered down his ear, 'Release!'

Xie Lian gasped as Hua Cheng pulled their hands apart, the dice fell from the shaker, clacking together as they hit the table. For a moment, Xie Lian watched in wonder, only to have all his suspicions confirmed when they settled with a 1 and 4. The dealer looked at him with a pitiful expression and Xie Lian smiled back with a shrug.

He turned to Hua Cheng, 'See, I told you I had terrible luck.'

'What are you talking about? That's the best score you could get.'

[danime25]

Break Your Dad's Back

masterlist // ao3

Summary: Chiropractors were becoming the hot thing for the stars in Los Angeles. Not that he was a star. After hearing from Janet about the miracle that was chiropractors, Holland March just had to try it out for himself.

Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

Content/Tags: Semi-public sex, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Blow Job, Bathroom Sex

Status: One shot/Complete

How the hell had Holland March ended up here? Well to start, a friend of a friend of Holly's friend said that 'Chiropractors' were the new 'it' thing.

"All the stars are going to chiropractors!"

Now he wasn't normally one to follow trends but when Janet wouldn't shut the fuck up about an aunt who opened a new practice… he needed to do something to get that girl to stop talking. So there he was, sitting on a suede couch, watching a goldfish swim aimlessly around in an all but silent reception area.

“Mr. March?” A woman opened the door and looked up from her manila folder to scan the room. God if all the other men in the room didn’t turn their heads at her

“Jesus.” He muttered under his breath

“I beg your pardon?” The woman asked

“Ah. Nothing.” He stood up from his chair and walked to her. He held out a hand and she shook it gently. Her hands were… soft. They were also warm, and kind of comforting. He seemed to forget his trepidation about whether or not the chiropractor was going to be a quack as he followed her long legs down the hallway and into a private room.

“Nice to meet you Mr. March. My name is…”

“Holland,” He interjected, “You can just call me Holland.”

“Alright… Mr. Holland. This is your first appointment here, yes?”

“Yes.” He said out loud, not wanting to let the rest of his thought escape from his head

“Do you have any previous issues with your back?”

“Um no?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to think. “But I had a thing with my… left spiral…”

“A spiral fracture?”

“Yeah that.” He smiled at her and stared into her eyes. God, they were as pretty as the night sky

“Would you mind?”

“What?”

“I just asked if you would mind sitting here on this chair.” She repeated herself

“Oh sure.” He shuffled over to where she had directed him to. “I don’t need to take my shirt off or anything like that, do I?”

“No. I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” She laughed a little, “People seem to confuse my practice for a massage parlor.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that.” He laughed along with her. “So… where do I put my arms on this thing?”

“Just let them rest at your side. If I need you to move them, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good.” He smiled. He felt her hand press gently against his back and he tried to pull away from her before she made a little noise and said,

“Don’t squirm.”

“Well it’s a little fucking hard…” He started to roll off with a sarcastic tone before regaining enough sense to put his foot back into his mouth

“A little fucking hard what?” She sassed him back. His eyes shot open, a little fear caught in his throat

“When you’re not used to someone touching you like that.” He said, pulling back on the sarcasm

“I understand.” She said, patience of a saint this one had. “I get a lot of clients that say it’s an odd sensation.” She let her fingertips linger on his back for a second before going in with her hand once again. She got a good feel of him, and talked about where Holland had seemed to be holding tension. Or some shit like that. Holland wasn’t really paying too much attention to her words. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to start my work.”

“You haven’t even started yet?” His voice rose

“No I haven’t. I can stop if you’re uncomfortable though…” She offered

“No. You’re fine.” He bit down on his lip

“Alright.” She said with a smile before she applied pressure with the center of her palm. “Take a deep breath…”

Next he heard a crack and a wave of pain erupted across his back. He really should have taken that breath because the next words that shot out from his mouth was a high-pitched, “Jesus!”

“Are you alright?” She asked

“Fuck I heard this shit was supposed to help.” He whined

“It will. You just have to let me do my work.”

“Fine, jesus.” He huffed and tensed his back up in fear. Her hand moved down lower on his back this time before another popping sound and some more pain. “Fuck!”

“If it’s hurting too much I can stop.” She offered once more

“No. See I’m waiting for that part where the pain is supposed to stop and shit is going to feel better.” He mouthed off

“Fine!” She sassed back a little before applying pressure in another area she had mentioned was an issue, only to be met with the same reaction as before

“Fuck!”

It was… a process like that for another half an hour or until the appointment time was up. He’d shout some obscenities, she’d chastise him for not trusting in her work and he’d go back on the defensive about how he’ll trust her this time.

“There, I’m done.” She announced. He got up from the chair, ready to point his finger at her and say she didn’t do shit but noticed that his back felt lighter than it had an hour ago.

“Uh. Thanks for that.” He bit his tongue

“You’re welcome. I tried to get rid of most of your problems, but it’d be better if you came back for continual appointments…”

“Is this a fucking scam? After all that?” He scoffed

“No. I’m just saying it would help.” She countered him, “That and I wouldn’t mind seeing you again. In spite of your profanity.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a little half smile that would charm even the coldest of hearts. Or so he thought anyway.

“Yeah. You’re not too bad on the eyes.” She looked him up and down

“Um…” He fumbled to get something from his jacket pocket and managed to get a card out to give to her. She twirled the card in between her fingers while she read it

“You’re actually named Holland March?”

“Of course.” He smiled at her

“I’ll call you.” She smiled back at him

“Yes.” He pumped his fists and walked out of the room, before walking back in. “Um. Did you see that?”

“I did.” She laughed, and tucked her bangs behind her ear

“Can… you pretend you didn’t?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ugh.” He groaned before walking back out into the lobby and setting up another appointment.

---

“You have reached Nice Guys Investigations. This machine records messages. Wait for the tone and speak clearly.”

“Hi this…” A woman’s voice said over the line and Holland ran across the house to pick up the phone

“Hi.” He answered

“Who’s calling?” Holly asked her father

“None.”

“None what?”

“None of your business.” He snapped at her and continued his call like nothing had happened. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She sounded happy on the other end, “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” He used one leg to prop himself up against the wall as he listened

“Want to meet up tonight?”

“Yeah. Yeah that sounds great. We could go get dinner… and stuff.”

“Why are you saying ‘and stuff’? You hate ‘and stuff’.” Holly scoffed, just who was this man in her dad’s ugly shirt?

“Shut up.” He said into the phone before apologizing and resting the receiver on his shoulder, “I’m trying to get some work done. Why don’t you just go over to Jessica’s or something?”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. Clearly her dad was a love struck teenager again the way he was acting all weird… and stuff.

“Sorry, again.”

“So tonight?”

“Definitely.”

“I’ll see you then.” He hung up on her, practically slamming the device down. He went to the bathroom to make sure his hair looked good and that his mustache looked… decent enough. After he cleaned up he got into his car and headed to the address she had given him. He did one last swoop to make sure the hair was in place, then hopped out to meet her. “Damn you look… really nice.”

“Thanks.” She smiled down at her feet and sat across from him at the table. They made small talk but he wasn’t really interested in that. He couldn’t stop staring at her, thinking about how pretty she was. When she realized he wasn't paying attention to the conversation she excused herself to run to the bathroom before whispering, "Meet me in 5."

"Here?" He started choking on his water, but she didn’t answer back. She was halfway across the dining room. Once he had regained his composure, he got up from the table and walked to the bathroom. He knocked on the door on the stall at the back of the bathroom and she opened the door for him. She kissed him first before he firmly gripped her hips and pinned her to the wall of the stall. Her lips connected with his once more after moving her hands under his coat. She bit down on his lip and his eyes practically popped open. Not that he didn’t like the feeling… he relished it, in fact. Once she felt like she had him eating out of her hand she pulled herself away. He let out a quiet protest in the form of a whine as she looked at him with hungry eyes. He watched her as she got down on her knees and slowly undid his fly. Holland bit his lip as his erect cock felt the cool bathroom air. He looked down at the confident woman as her plush lips pressed onto the head. He let out an odd noise, somewhere between a grunt and a moan as her tongue worked its way along his shaft. One more good lick and her mouth was wrapped around him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his right hand weaved through the strands of her hair, his grip firm against the back of her head. She started bobbing her slowly, pushing him further into her throat.

“Jesus…” He moaned. She took this as a sign to go faster. His breath became less automatic and more concentrated. He bucked his hips into her face, just to be closer to her touch. He didn’t last long, having been without much relief in a couple of years. He felt himself growing weak and released inside of her. Never breaking contact, she looked up at him as she swallowed his load. He shifted his weight fully into the wall as he slouched. She got up off her knees, and used the edge of her thumb to clean up the corners of her lips.

“You like that?” She asked in a coy manner

“Yeah.” He replied, letting out a cough that made him shake before muttering another “Fuck.”

The bathroom was quiet for a second before she broke it by saying,

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

“Okay.” He grinned like an idiot and followed her out of the bathroom from a distance, so as not to arouse suspicion. After paying for their meal, practically pulled him out of the restaurant and threw him into his car. She kissed his cheek and rested a hand on his shoulder, using her hands as a means to gauge

“You’re starting to feel tense. I might be able to fit you in for an adjustment later in the day tomorrow.”

“It’s a date.” Holland nodded before driving her back to his place for the night

[countessklair]

i disagree with most of the fandom's takeaway from the episode. i want to preface this all by saying that i don't hate Nate and i think he's a very complex character with traumas and issues of his own that led to his whole new thing of 'evil' or whatever that Rupert's pushing him into further now, but still.

Nate knew what he was doing by destroying the sign. that's why he did it in the first place. he was angry and hurt and he wanted to cut the team and Ted, especially, very deep. so he destroyed the sign and left for 'the enemy' who'd offered him a job. he's been shit-talking them and their beloved coach Ted in the press all preseason and ostensibly all season so far.

and yes, the goldfish mentality and the 'let it flow' from episode one are very good for the team, and they've managed to ignore Nate shit talking post episode one, but they have every right to be furious with Nate. he essentially spat of the uniting element that makes them all better teammates, better players, better people. they used to be pretty not great people, bullying Nate being the biggest but only one of the examples therein, but the team's all changed their behavior and they learned and became better people. they respected Nate as a coach and as a fellow Greyhound and they supported and even loved him. and Nate betrayed them.

just the move to west ham i think they would have been supportive of. they wouldn't have held it against him for wanting a head coaching position. but the move, plus the shit talking, PLUS the ripping of the believe sign?? that's the betrayal. it's layered, and of course it cuts deep when the sign represents so much more than the word emblazoned on it. the sign has become a representation of Richmond itself. and they were already looking for answers, they would've figured out who ripped it eventually. i definitely think that they shouldn't have told the team at half-time, and i agree on the thing coach beard said about them overcorrecting and playing with hate, but still. i think the team has every right to be angry.

sometimes people forget that you have to FEEL your emotions in order to process them. and that more importantly it's ok and even GOOD to feel those emotions, and that feeling anger or hatred aren't necessarily 'evil' emotions. if someone hurts you and stamps and spits on your values and your beliefs, if someone you thought of as family betrayed you, that's not something you can just be a goldfish about or let it flow through you and pass you by. it's a deep cutting wound, and that's why Nate, in his fit of fury at the promotion, ripped the sign in the first place anyway. because he knew how deeply it would hurt them not only to have the sign defaced, but for it to be HIM doing it. the team is gonna have to process this and hopefully now that they have the initial fury all out they'll be able to deal with it in a healthy Ted Lasso show way we all love. also, ever since the introduction of Zava to the team, there's been a severe disconnect between the team and the Ted Lasso way: remember that scene in the locker room with Zava physically stepping in front of Ted every time he moved to try and look at the team?

i fully believe that Nate will get a redemption arc, and i fully believe he deserves one. but i don't think Nate fans remember sometimes that it's never a friend's job to always be stroking someone's ego and to be the personal caretaker of their mental health and social equilibrium, especially when that friend themselves have big, BIG issues going on in their personal life. Ted was never responsible for Nate's happiness and ego and he shouldn't be treated like he is. he recognized talent and he rewarded that talent accordingly and gave Nate a platform to grow on. Nate's paternal trauma didn't allow him to reach out and communicate with Ted about feeling left behind, and that sucks and it's not Nate's fault that he has those issues to contend with, but it's not the team or Roy's or Ted's fault either.

fact of the matter is, no one is the villain but Rupert. Nate made some hurtful choices that the people he hurt have every right to be upset over, and the biggest one - outing Ted's very private mental health issues (imo mental health issues being way way worse to out than physical health issues) isn't something anyone on the team but Ted and Beard and Trent are aware of. there will be a redemption arc, and i believe there will be forgiveness, but i don't know if Nate will ever come back to Richmond. I think maybe a fresh new start outside of both Richmond AND West Ham would be best for him, because he needs to get out from under Rupert, but i think there's just too much history at Richmond, even without factoring in Ted.

tl;dr: nate will get the redemption arc he needs and deserves but that doesn't free him of having to face the fact that he hurt people deliberately, that he needs to apologize. there has to be consequences for his actions. next episode i need there to be a 'come to jesus' moment for the whole team to process this hurt together and to get back on track with the Ted Lasso way.

also: the richmond team are all my angels and i love them dearly and i'm SO GLAD this episode had very little to do with Zava.

[afewkindsofcrazy]

Bridgerton - A Brain Dump with Theories on Season 4

I skimmed An Offer from a Gentleman (Benedict's book) and am skimming/reading When He was Wicked (Francesca's book) over the weekend. And now I have theories and need to tell someone so I have more space in my brain.

I apologize for the disrespect of skimming, but I have the attention span and or patience of a goldfish. I am working on it. Promise 🤗

Anyway, below is why I think Benedict's book is next. Spoilers(?) below the cut. WARNING: Evidence is thin but hopes are high

In Benedict's book, Violet throws a masquerade ball right before she moves into a dower house which is where Benedict and Sophie meet. Violet moving out was mentioned early on in Season 3 Part 1. (I know they also discussed delaying it. Maybe we'll get more information in Part 2) But this might mean we'll get our masquerade soon 😁

Throughout the book, Whistledown chronicled what I've dubbed The Maid Wars in which everyone is stealing everyone else's lady's maids/housepeople (still calling it The Maid Wars. I should probably finish reading the book). This is also (somewhat) how Sophie comes to work for the Bridgertons. In Season 3 Episode 2, Lord Remington says Whistledown wrote about Lady Houghton stealing Lady Carter's housekeeper. The start of The Maid Wars? Laying the ground work for Sophie's appearance?

Season 3 Episode 3, Violet drops her glove and Lord Marcus Anderson - a potential love interest - picks it up. In the book, Sophie leaves Benedict with her glove as she flees from the ball. A clue? 🧐

My most convincing piece of evidence, though I was inebriated most of the weekend 🤭 Grass and "how it's so green"! 🤗 Season 3 Episode 3, Penelope tells Lord Debling that her favorite thing about nature is grass and that she loves it because it is green. In the book, Sophie tells Benedict her favorite color is green because she likes the way grass feels when she runs through it. Foreshadowing? Mad ramble? Who’s to say?

These points have me convinced that Benedict's story is next. However, in the book, he searches and pines for Sophie for two years. We could get a masquerade ball at the end of Part 2 and a Season 4 of angst. I'm not opposed but I really want to see Benedict get his season. His character in the show and book are so fun and funny. I’m so excited and impatient for his season. 😬

How I feel right now 🤣:

Other random theories if you're still here

Season 3 will end with all three Featherington sisters giving birth. Penelope will be the only one to have a boy and Colin will jokingly be called Lord Featherington by his family for the rest of his life.

We will meet Micheal Stirling briefly or as one of those "Meet my cousin" and then fade to black (Hate when that happens. The cruelest tease really. Though it would fit Michael.)

Cressida will marry Lord Debling and travel with him to get away from her family.

The Stirlings will be re-written as twins. In Francesca's book, they are cousins, but their fathers are twins. Why not put that in the show and capitalize on the acting talents of Victor Alli? (I haven't actually seen his other works. I just like how he plays John.)

The just-for-fun theory - Sophie will be re-written to be the illegitimate child of one of Queen Charlotte's sons. Why write the fantastic line "virgins to the left of me, whores to the right" if you're not going to have fun with it?

Thank you for coming to my brain dump. We'll see how it all plays out. 😊

[jae-bummer]

My Idol 3: Part Twelve

My Idol from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Saturday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in a specific mission to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what four idols will move on to the second date.

My Idol 3: The Series

"This is only temporary, little friend," Chan cooed, eye level with the small vase that housekeeping managed to scrounge up. "It's Papa Chris's fault for not thinking ahead."

"Papa Chris?" you mused as you watched the man crouching in front of you.

Glancing over his shoulder, he shot you a smile. "We're co-parenting."

"Are we?"

"Mhm," he nodded, pulling himself to his feet. "And we're doing very well with it."

Your eyes trailed from your date to the goldfish doing laps in his small space. When San had originally replaced your laptop, you weren't expecting for any of the guys to buy you anything you had lost. While it would be a kind gesture, you didn't know them. They shouldn't feel obligated to give you anything. This, though, came so far out of left field, you were unsure how to process the situation.

"Does that mean we've brought a child into a divorced household?" you hummed. "Since we're co-parenting and all?"

Chan's handsome face broke into a wide grin, dimples and all. "No, no, we're just separated. We have things to figure out first."

Returning the smile, you jumped as a PD bustled into the room. Looking from you, to Chan, and then back to Chan's bodyguard, she groaned. "What are you doing?"

"Visiting," Chan said, his smile more of a cringe.

"You're supposed to meet on camera!" the PD said, exasperated.

"Sorry," Chan grimaced. Whispering, he leaned toward you. "I have a tendency to apologize after I do something instead of asking for permission first."

"Come on," the PD sighed, motioning for Chan to follow her. "We have to get you on location.

And you!" she said, spinning around to point a finger in your direction. "Act surprised when you see him."

"Got it," you nodded.

You were at a loss as you glanced toward the last remaining stranger in your room. Chan's security guard gave you a small frown before he followed the other two out.

Plopping back down on your bed, you stared blankly at the door. You felt like a sitcom character at this point. The situational whiplash was exhausting.

.

"I didn't ask for him to come to my room," you challenged, looking moodily out the window.

"I left for a few minutes to go over security plans, and you were in your room with a contestant!" your bodyguard, Hyuk, squawked from the seat in front of you. As the older of the two bodyguards, he definitely took more of an older brother/uncle role in your life.

"We were supervised!" you reminded him after stating the fact nearly five times now.

"Not by me," he grumbled.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to remain patient with him. You knew he cared about your safety first and foremost, especially considering how your date with Hyungwon had ended. It was not on your to do list to get hit by eggs again.

Looking back on your morning, your initial meeting with Chan had been abrupt, but pleasant. Ever since Insu had left your room the night before, you had been trapped in the endless rotation of your thoughts. It was nice to have a surprise come in and distract you from your own brain.

As you were on the way to your next date location, you couldn't help but have your mind begin to wander again. Aside from wondering what fresh hell the day would provide, against your better judgement, you still held out a little bit of hope. All of your dates, whether they were sabotaged by fans or not, were so, so lovely. Barring the eggs and bum-rushes, you looked back on each one fondly. More than anything though, you were constantly overwhelmed by the feeling of getting so close to so many interesting men. They had been open and raw with their thoughts and opinions, and even after being sequestered in a hotel, they still wanted to stick it out.

You shouldn’t go about putting them on a pedestal, you reminded yourself. They were ordinary people, just like you. Their jobs were just extraordinary. You were all on the same playing field, trying to figure things out.

“Are you even listening?” Hyuk sighed, turning around to send a glare in your direction.

You felt your face grow hot. “Totally,” you lied. “But just for clarity, would you mind repeating it again?”

“It’s okay to have your head in the clouds,” he muttered. “But please keep at least one foot on the ground.”

“Did Confucius say that?" you asked sarcastically, tilting your head.

“No,” he deadpanned, not even humoring you. “We’re going to have a lot more security today. You may not see me much. I’m responsible for coordinating a lot of people, but I just want you to know that you’re safe. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, looking out of the window again. After the egg incident, Insu’s reaction had rattled you more than you would like to admit. You had never considered that a fan would go to more violent measures, but the behavior did seem to be escalating.

As the My Idol SUV pulled up outside your next location, you tried to swallow down all of the emotions careening in your chest. A mixture of fear, anxiousness, hope, and excitement danced together, none of them in step.

Sliding out of the vehicle, you remembered at the last second that you were meant to be meeting Chan for the first time. Luckily, your nerves seemed to have you prepared.

"Hi," you squeaked, staring at the already familiar face. He had changed since you last saw him, opting to wear a baseball cap and all black. The color suited him, but then again, likely every color did. That's just how it worked when you were devastatingly attractive.

Chan smiled coyly before bowing. "Hello, I'm Stray Kid's Bang Chan."

"I'm Y/N," you managed, giving a small bow back. This was going to look so awkward on screen. "It's nice to meet you."

"Much nicer for me, really," he hummed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You look absolutely adorable."

If a human could turn red, you would have been scarlet from head to toe. "You think I'm adorable now? You should see me covered in rotten eggs."

You weren't sure why you said it, but could chalk it up to inappropriate coping mechanisms. When in doubt, make light of your misfortune.

"Really takes it up a notch?" he chuckled. "I heard about that. I'm so sorry that viewers took it that far."

"Fans will be fans, I guess," you sighed, glancing up to the building you were standing in front of. "Where-"

"No," Chan cut you off, shaking his head. "I don't know what your opinion is of our fans, but anyone who would put you through those things is absolutely no fan of mine."

"Oh," you breathed, not expecting him to respond to your statement. "I-I mean, I'm sure they just want the best for you guys."

"The best thing for me is to not worry about my personal life so intensely," he nodded. "They should focus on there's. I'm positive it's much more interesting than anything I'm doing."

It seemed like you had hit a nerve. This conversation would likely be best off camera.

"Speaking of things you're doing," you attempted to segue. "Where are we?"

Chan gave you a half-hearted smirk. He knew what you were doing and was not amused. "Why don't I take you in so you can see for yourself?"

Offering his palm, you hesitantly took it. It was difficult to describe the way that Chan was making you feel, but you were leaning toward liking it. Even though you felt like you were being pretty guarded, he had no issue reading you. Whether that was just from him being perceptive or the two of you meshing well, you weren't sure.

His narrow fingers fit well between yours, and you couldn't help looking down to appreciate his vascular arms and hands. How could something so simple be so hot?

"How's our boy?" he said quietly, eying the crew behind you.

"Adapting," you whispered. "I made one of the PD's promise to get him a better living situation by the time we got back."

"Great," he smiled. "I watched Youtube videos all the way here on how to set up the tank and-"

Notably getting more excited, you placed your free hand lightly on his forearm before motioning behind the two of you with your eyes.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "So our date today...it may seem a little childish, but..."

Chan had guided you into what appeared to be a small shopping center with individual stores renting out spaces inside. The one he was referencing in particular was not a Build-a-Bear (they hadn't made it to Korea yet) but was very Build-a-Bear adjacent.

"I thought maybe we could make plushies," he said, his expression nervous. "I'm not sure if you're into that kind of thing, but I've kind of always daydreamed about doing this with a partner."

You blinked in surprise, not at all expecting how vulnerable he looked. He was clearly uncomfortable not knowing if you thought this was lame or not and was looking to jump ship as soon as you showed any sign of disappointment.

"It's kind of silly, isn't it?" he coughed, growing more anxious the longer you were quiet. "There's another place a few stores over-"

"It's perfect," you said finitely. Something about the idea of creating a plushie with Chan was incredibly appealing to your inner child. "And not silly at all."

"Really?" he grinned before shaking his had. "I mean, yeah! If it makes you happy, who cares what anyone else thinks, right?"

"Right," you hummed. "Do you know what to do?"

"Oh yeah," he hummed. "I'm an old pro at this."

"Excuse me," a worker interrupted, wandering over from the counter. "Can I help you two?"

"Please," he winced. "I have no idea what we're doing."

You let out a burst of laughter. "An old pro, huh?"

"I may have embellished," he chuckled.

You shook your head, unsure if you'd be able to pin down Chan's personality on the first date. He was hilarious, presented as confident, but it also seemed to be a bit of a front. He was very cognizant of your reactions. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but was more than willing to do it to himself. An undercurrent of self consciousness flowed behind your interactions, and you were a bit surprised to see it.

"First, you'll need to find which friend is right for you," the worker instructed. "After that, meet me by the fluff machine."

"Fluff machine," Chan nodded, glancing around the shop. "Totally know what that is and will definitely find you by it."

"Come on," you laughed, pulling him toward the wall of plushie corpses.

You both assessed the choices in front of you before Chan spoke up. "You can totally say no, but why don't we pick out each others?"

"Why would I say no?" you hummed, giving him an encouraging smile. "That just makes it infinitely more special."

"I agree!" he said. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't overstepping."

"Probably for the best," you sighed dramatically. "I take my plushies very seriously."

"You seemed like the type," he nodded sternly before dissolving into a laugh. Regrettably unwinding his arm from yours, he began to shuffle down the row, picking up several options and testing how soft they were.

You focused on the task at hand as well. What would be the best choice for Chan's bear? Should you make it to your preference or to his? A kangaroo seemed like too obvious of an option if you were making it in his likeness. Maybe it was safer to pick something that represented you. He'd have something to remember you by.

"A frog, huh?" he chuckled, finally meeting you by what you assumed to be the fluff filler.

"I wanted to get you something that reminded you of me," you grinned.

"Yes, when I see you, I definitely think "frog,"" he frowned, shaking his head. Holding up his own choice, it turned into a smile. "I picked a wolf."

"On brand," you nodded.

Chan lifted his brows, but you only grinned wider. "Skzoo is much too popular for me not to know about it, Chris."

"And for a second, I thought you may have been a Stay," he clucked. "Pity."

Rolling your eyes, you pushed your shoulder into his. "I'll up my game, I promise."

"You better," he teased, shouldering you back. "If you don't get your act together, I'll take the fish and run."

It wasn't long until the two of you had stuffed your respective animals and decided to put recordings in their hands. Stepping as far away from your date as you could, the words came to you easily.

"You have an amazing heart," you said into the small recording device. "Thank you for being you."

Wandering back over to Chan, you both finished up by selecting outfits. Chan was much pickier than you anticipated, but after discussing, you settled on an adorable onesie while he picked an all black ensemble.

After a small argument about who would pay (Chan won rock, paper, scissors), he pulled you over to an ice cream shop across the way. "Why don't we finish up with something sweet?"

"I'm not sweet enough for you?" you joked, sticking your tongue out at him.

"That was a good one," he laughed. "But I haven't tasted you yet."

"Whoa!" you gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. "Sir!"

Chan grinned sheepishly before ducking his head. "Sometimes the impulsive thoughts win. I'm sorry!"

Your stomach did a few flips as you replayed what he had said. He had nothing to apologize for, but you wouldn't be telling him that. You hoped your brain didn't make interesting use of his comment in your dreams.

After carefully selecting your flavors (you may have filled up on samples alone), the two of you sat down at a cafe table. Just as you were about to take the first lick, one of the PD's cleared their throat.

"Shame on me for almost forgetting," you muttered, eying the sudden appearance of the dastardly red envelope.

"I got it," Chan sighed, leaning forward to grab the challenge. Opening it swiftly, he read the words aloud.

"Could this be a sticky situation? Take ten laps around the shopping center without letting your ice cream drip on the floor. Make a mess and incur the penalty."

You glanced from Chan to your ice cream. "How are we supposed to stop ice cream from melting?"

"By moving fast!" he gasped, yanking your hand. Pulling you out of your seat, you stumbled forward into the main area of the shopping center. The set up seemed to be a large square, so the circuit wasn't too difficult to figure out.

"Can we stop the drips?" you called over to the crew now chasing after you.

"You just can't lick the ice cream!" a PD called, already finding the running to be difficult.

Chan dropped your hand and opted to keep his floating under the cone. If anything spilled, in theory, his fingers would catch it.

Digging around in your pockets, you were pleased to find the napkins you had grabbed after you had made your order. Wrapping them haphazardly around your cone as you ran, you offered a few to your date.

"Thanks!" he gasped. "This is ridiculous."

"It's meant to be," you groaned, now holding your hand underneath your ice cream. It was already starting to melt.

Tearing your way across the linoleum flooring, you dodged and ducked around shoppers and workers alike. It wasn't until the final lap that you dared to have any hope.

"We're going to make it!" you insisted, seeing your starting point in the distance. "I don't think I've spilled anything!"

"Me either!" Chan said through deep breaths. "Also this counts as my cardio for the day."

Laughing through your pained inhales, you focused on your stopping point. Unfortunately, that meant you weren't watching your feet. You hadn't realized that at some point during the run, your shoelace came untied and wouldn't actually notice until your feet began to trip themselves up.

"Agh!" you gasped, your body propelling to the ground at alarming speed. You could picture it already; splayed out on the floor, your ice cream dripping and melting everywhere, maybe a mild concussion.

"No you don't!" Chan shouted, gripping you under your arm and hauling you upwards again. You looked over to your date, shocked that he was able to correct your course without disturbing the treat in his hand.

Now overly aware of your shoe situation, you jogged with more caution. "Thank you!"

"No thanks!" he ground out. "That was entirely selfish. I don't want to do the penalty."

You laughed again, finally coming to a halt in front of the ice cream shop. "You saved the day. If I'm not mistaken, that makes you a hero."

"There may or may not be melted ice cream on your shirt now," Chan winced. "There was a good bit on my hand before I grabbed you."

"Perfect," you sighed. "I love the feeling of being sticky but not knowing where it came from."

Chan grinned at you before looking over to the production crew. "Did we pass?"

After several PD's carefully retraced your steps, they finally agreed. You both had somehow managed not to spill anything.

"Yes!" you shouted, hopping in place. Chan wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you in close. If your heartbeat wasn't already thudding in your ears, it would be now.

Letting your body fit into his, you tried to take measured breaths before looking up at him. "I meant what I said earlier. You really are the hero today."

"If I'm a hero in your eyes, my work here is done," he smiled shyly, his eyes tracing across your face. They finally came to rest on your lips, the sudden attention causing your adrenaline to spike again. "Y/N?"

Chan didn't need too say more than that. He spoke your name as a question, the underlying tone making his intent clear. He wanted to kiss you and your brain was screaming at you to allow it. The challenge had left you both on edge and this seemed like an excellent way to dissolve that tension.

"Excuse me?" a raspy voice called from across the room. Both of you hesitated before looking back at the little, old ice cream shop owner sat behind the counter. "Why don't you two throw those out? I can make you fresh ones."

"Oh, you really don't have to," Chan croaked, his voice much more gravelly than it had been. He glanced back to you, biting his lip.

"I insist," the owner smiled. "It'll be up in a moment."

"Right, thanks," Chan managed before taking a step away from you. The loss of his body felt immediate, like a cold bucket of water being poured over your skin. That had gotten dangerous very quickly. It was probably for the best that the worker had stepped in when he did.

"Let me take this," Chan hummed, gingerly pulling your melted ice cream from your hands. After you both wiped off your fingers and applied a generous amount of hand sanitizer, Chan knelt to the floor. "I'll take care of this too."

You were momentarily rendered speechless by the sight of Chan tying your shoe. Pulling it into a secure double knot, he stood again. "You alright?"

You knew your pupils had all but turned into hearts as you tried to choke out a response. "Never Better."