#Second Wednesday in January

[rabbitcruiser]

National Take the Stairs Day

National Take the Stairs Day is celebrated every second Wednesday in January.  You know what that means: celebrate the day by hitting the stairs. Elevator? What elevator? If you’re interested in taking things up a notch, run around the block or cycle to work. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you keep that heart rate up.

Lung health is more important now than ever before. Did you know that over 3.7 million Americans live with chronic lung diseases like asthma or lung cancer? We’re not moving as much as we should. To top it, the air we breathe gets increasingly unhealthy. Some factors may be beyond our control, but staying fit and healthy is entirely in our hands. Take the first steps towards a healthier life today. What matters eventually are the choices we make.

History of National Take the Stairs Day

The first mention of Take the Stairs Day was in 2016. A dedicated stair-running group likely organized it, although there’s not much documentation on the event.

On the other hand, National Take the Stairs Day is a recent initiative by the American Lung Association. The goal is to improve our lung health by choosing a life of movement over convenience.

Stair walking is excellent exercise and one of the easiest things to do. It’s gentler on our joints and muscles compared to HIIT or gym workouts, with almost similar benefits. It’s an activity to seriously consider if you’re looking to lose weight, tone muscle, and enhance overall cardiovascular health.

Taking charge of our health can sometimes feel daunting. Where does one begin? The good news is you don’t need to make drastic alterations to your lifestyle, unless medically advised. The key lies in little but consistent steps each day. They really do go a long way. Small changes such as choosing to take the stairs instead of an elevator can significantly reduce the risk of chronic diseases.

National Take the Stairs Day hopes to encourage Americans to make changes to their lifestyle. By taking part, you also show support for the millions of people who live with debilitating lung disease. If a few minutes of climbing stairs can make your lungs explode, imagine what it’s like for those with chronic pulmonary disease. It can be a humbling reminder of how lucky we are to be alive. We hope everyone takes the stairs today and every other day.

National Take the Stairs Day timeline

8000 B.C. - 2000 B.C. The First Ornate Staircases

As human civilization progresses, the people of ancient Mesopotamia build magnificent staircases in their homes.

2016 A Day For Taking Stairs

The internet first hears of Take the Stairs Day.

2019 Backed By Science

Researchers at McMaster University find that short bursts of stair climbing throughout the day can boost cardiovascular health.

2020 A Guinness Record For Stair Climbing

On November 18, Ryoji Watanabe from Japan breaks the world record for the fastest vertical mile stair climbing, at one hour, six minutes, and 58 seconds.

National Take the Stairs Day FAQs

When is National Take the Stairs Day?

Organized by the American Lung Association, National Take the Stairs Day takes place on the second Wednesday in January each year. The association encourages Americans to improve their lung health by taking the stairs instead of an elevator.

What are the benefits of stair climbing?

Stair climbing comes with tremendous health benefits. A few minutes of stair climbing throughout the day improves lung capacity, heart function, and blood circulation. It also reduces the risks of developing chronic heart diseases, cancer, diabetes, and hypertension.

How many stairs should I climb for a good workout?

Try climbing up and downstairs on 10 to 12 steps for about 30 minutes. Climb one step at a time and progress to skipping steps once you’re comfortable. For intense calorie burn, climb up and down a 10-story building five times.

National Take the Stairs Day Activities

Take the stairs

Design a stairs-climbing challenge

Climb stairs for a killer cardio burn

Wherever you can, choose to take the stairs today. Find opportunities throughout the day: on a lunch break, coffee run, or en route to the break room.

The good thing about stairs is you’ll find them everywhere. Gather everyone for a stairs-climbing challenge at the office or apartment complex. It can be a surprising way to bond. Take care to offer support to anyone who may be struggling.

Start incorporating stair climbing into your workout. Jog up a few flights each day, increasing the pace as you go along. Level up by skipping one step or carrying a heavy backpack on your way up.

5 Facts About Exercising That Will Blow Your Mind

Let the music take control

Exercising is good for the brain

Bring on the muscles

Slows down aging

Variety is super important

Listening to music during a workout can improve performance by 15%.

Cardio-intensive exercises help create new brain cells, improving brain power and memory.

People with more muscle mass burn more fat amounts while resting.

Those who exercise for 45 minutes, three times a week can significantly reduce signs of aging.

Compared to those who cross-train, people who don’t switch up their workouts are more susceptible to injury.

Why We Love National Take the Stairs Day

It challenges us

Gratitude for our lungs

A community endeavor

The comfort of familiar things lulls most of us into complacency. When was the last time you challenged your body and mind? It’s time today to get up and move. If not now, when?

Breath is life, but we don’t notice it at all. When we take the stairs, we are reminded of how hard our heart and lungs work. That exploding sensation in the chest? It means we’re alive.

Staying fit and healthy can be a lonesome road. National Take the Stairs Day recognizes the importance of the community's rallying around better health. It’s easier when everyone’s in it together.

Source

[girlscarpia]

I woke up feeling so angry today I hate group projects

[curiosity-killed]

WIP WEDNESDAY

“What, Vash the Stampede? That’s ‘cause Tiny Terror over there’ll kick your balls through your backside if you even try,” he replies with a nod towards the skinny kid on the far end. Said tiny terror snaps a hand up with their middle finger raised but doesn’t dispute the claim. “Kid’s got a penchant for strays,” the bartender continues, a teasing glint in his eyes like he’s trying to rile his coworker up. “Who needs a dogcatcher when Little Lina’s around to scoop ‘em all up?” An only child, Meryl doesn’t know how normal siblings behave, but she recognizes the way Lina rounds on the bartender from her own companions. Even back at the start, Vash and Wolfwood would taunt and pounce on each other like two two-hundred-pound kittens tussling in the sands. When Milly joined them, they’d been cautious at first until they realized growing up with the whole Thompson clan had equipped Milly to give just as good as she got and with a sugar-sweet smile that made it hard to actually pin the blame on her, to boot. Watching them, Meryl had felt a little like a researcher observing another species or perhaps a reclusive community that spoke in its own language. When she tried to engage, at first, her words were always too sharp, too-often landing in a way that actually hurt. She’d gotten better at it over the years, but she still didn’t really have the hang of play-fighting, of biting back without breaking skin.

this has basically turned into a 10k Meryl character study which was not the point but is also. where we're at right now. check in next week to see if i have finally dug Milly and Chronica's characters out of the dunes as well

[edge-oftheworld]

community experts around the world take note, ashton irwin has channeled his alter ego psychology (honours) student to demonstrate the ultimate strategy for community engagement on important issues using the low budget technology of Instagram—

[livvyofthelake]

alright. one more “i just have to get through this week” and then everything will be fine. i just need to make it to this thursday and then i’ll have cordelia and she will fix me. i am staking so much on this book i know but you have to understand there’s nothing else. cordelia will fix me. i just have to make it to thursday when the book will get to my house <3 and no i did not accomplish my january reading goal even slightly. i don’t think i opened that book even. but cordelia will fix everything. and i might fail my film adaptations class. well. no one’s perfect i guess. anyway. i literally just have to make it through this week. goodnight.

[doxiedreg]

Im going through it so hard but I'll survive I prommy *I'm facedown on the floor and burning*

[500-moths-in-a-trenchcoat]

happy 2025 everyone, another calendar update be upon ye :3 it's BIGGER and BETTER this year

IT JUST HAPPENS

DAY 15 GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 15

Thursday the 20th

The Fifth of Wednesday

Second Week of May: Eurovision

Sometime in June: That One Halloween Post Starts Circulating

Sometime in July: Dancing Pumpkin Man Video/Gif

First Monday In September: Todaybor Day Is Labor Day

WEEKLY EVENTS (at least the ones i celebrate)

Every Monday: Garfield Hates Mondays

Every Tuesday: Tuck Him In Tuesday

Every Wednesday: It Is Wednesday My Dudes

Every Thursday: Out of Touch Thursday

Every Friday: Thank Gnome It's Friday

Every Saturday: Caturday

Every Sunday: Energy Sword Sunday

YEARLY EVENTS

January 1: Copyright Expiration Day

January 2: New Years, New Tears

January 8: Spiders Georg Day

January 16: Appreciate a Dragon Day

January 18: Bug Race

January 29: Threshold Day

All of February: Funguary

ALSO All of February: Femslash February

February 3: WOE, VANILLA EXTRACT BE UPON YE

February 8: King Taejong Fell Off His Horse

February 13: Galentines Day

February 14: Aromantic/Asexual Day

February 15: Annoy Squidward Day

February 18: Perserverance Rover's Birthday

March 9: Miku Day

March 10: Mario Day

March 14: Pi Day

March 15: Ides of March

March 23: Ever Given Got Stuck Today

April 1: Mishapocalypse

April 2: Dashcon Announcement Anniversary

April 3: Dannypocalypse

April 5: First Contact Day

April 8: Rex Manning Day

ALSO April 8: MARGARET THATCHER IS DEAD

April 13: Neil Banging Out The Tunes

ALSO April 13: Homestuck Day

April 19: Some Roman Made Bread Today

April 20: haha 420 blaze it

April 24: Josh Fight

April 25: The Perfect Date

April 28: Ed Balls Day

April 29: 94 Meetings Day

April 30: It's Gonna Be May

All of May: Mermay

May 3: Beginning of Dracula Daily

May 4: May the 4th Be With You

May 5: Revenge of the Fifth

May 6: Revenge Of The Sixth

May 7: World Language Day

May 25: The Glorious 25th of May

ALSO May 25: Towel Day

All of June: Pride Month

ALSO All of June: IT'S HALLOWEEN TIME TO GET SPOOKY

June 5: Barricade Day

ALSO June 5: RONALD REAGAN IS DEAD

June 12: Another Homestuck Day

June 16: Let Papyrus Say Fuck

June 22: Summerween

June 23: FUCK This Post And Happy Birthday Sonic

All of July: Disability Pride Month

July 11-13: Dashcon Anniversary

July 20: Moon Landing

August 5: Curiosity Rover's Birthday

August 30: Frankenstein Day

September 8: The Queen Is Dead and Sans Undertale Killed Her

September 11: Mole Interest Monday

September 19: Talk Like A Pirate Day

September 21: DO YOU REMEMBER-

All of October: SKELETON WAR

ALSO All of October: People Draw A Lot Month? (so many names)

October 3: Mean Girls Day

ALSO October 3: Fullmetal Alchemist Day

October 13: Treat Yo' Self

October 18: None Pizza Left Beef

October 20: Unnecessary Feelings Day

October 25: Homestuck Day The Third??

October 31: HALLOWEEN

November 5: Destiel Nevada Putin Elec'tion Covid Way

ALSO November 5: Doc Brown Invents Time Travel

November 19: Goncharov

November 29: HENRY KISSINGER IS DEAD

All of December: Will the Gävle Goat Get Destroyed Again?

ALSO All of December: WHY WEREN'T YOU AT ELF PRACTICE

ALSO All of December: Season's Greason's

December 4: Deny Defend Depose Day

December 10: Please, It's Christmas

December 12: Hawaii Part 2

December 23: Christmas Adam

ALSO December 23: Festivus

December 24: ALMOST CHRISTMAS MEANS IT WASN'T CHRISTMAS

December 25: happy chrismum

ALSO December 24: Cabinet Man Day

December 27: Porn Ban Effective Today

[hislittleraincloud]

Her birthday was two months ago.

Happy Birthday to my favorite Addams aka Wednesday. 🥳

@charmingsmolbear

[steddiealltheway]

It’s a cold Wednesday night in January that has Eddie turning the thermostat up and allowing the government supplied heat to fill the trailer. He glances up at the vents and gives them a quick middle finger, wondering if they bugged the place to observe him or make sure he isn’t spreading their secrets.

He doesn’t really care at this point if they’re watching though. They already held him at the hospital for long enough, poking and prodding as if he wasn’t even human. But he didn’t turn into a vampire or some shit because of those damn bats. No. The jagged, ugly scars littering his body served as a lovely reminder that he was ultimately human.

Eddie glances at a nearby mirror and cringes at his face, taking a look at the long scar running down his cheek, jaw, and neck. The Corroded Coffin guys all said it made him look metal, and he would throw in a, “Hell yeah,” before smoothly changing the subject to something that didn’t involve him for once.

He takes a finger and slowly trails it over the pale pink skin, wondering if there will ever be a day he won’t notice it.

“Eddie,” Steve calls out gently from the room down the hall.

Eddie jumps back and glances toward him, hand falling to his side and flexing uncomfortably as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“You okay?”

Eddie smiles and gestures toward the thermostat. “Damn thing wasn’t working for a minute there. You’d think with the amount of hush hush money they were able to pay all of us, they’d be able to give me and Wayne a better trailer.”

But Steve only crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, eyebrows raising gently. It’s not entirely accusatory, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe a thing Eddie’s saying.

Although they’ve grown close while going through the same treatment and tests in Owen’s new secret facility, it still surprises Eddie how easily Steve can read people. More specifically, how easily he can read him of all people. “Just got lost in thought,” Eddie confesses while making his way back to his room as he sees Steve squint at the lights in the living area.

Steve steps out of the way as Eddie brushes by him and closes the door. He hope it’s enough honesty to end the conversation.

“What were you thinking about?” Steve asks, ignoring the signals Eddie is giving him.

Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face and climbs back into his bed, quick to pull up the blanket around himself in an attempt to get some much needed warmth while simultaneously covering his scars from Steve. “Stuff.”

Steve rests his hands on his hips for a second and stares, mouth opening and closing for a moment before deciding against whatever he was going to say. Instead, he climbs into the bed with Eddie and joins him under the blanket, keeping enough distance so they’re not touching, but they can still feel each other’s body heat.

Eddie glances over at him, noticing the way the one lamp turned on in the room gives him a nice golden halo. He looks gorgeous and untouchable - exactly how Eddie used to think of him through high school and sometimes even now. The perfect golden boy. But despite the name Eddie gave to him years ago, he can’t ignore the flaws that Steve possesses, yet they somehow make him even more perfect to him. Or maybe just human.

Eddie shakes his head and glances away. He wishes Steve came over to smoke so Eddie could blame the drugs on the way his thoughts race when he’s next to him. Instead, he has to face up to his enormous crush on the perfect golden boy.

“Have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks out of the blue.

Eddie snorts and glances at him, only to laugh harder when he sees the adorable look of confusion on his face.

Steve’s brows furrow but the edges of his lips quirk up. “What?”

Eddie pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to try to hide his wife smile. “Kind of random, don’t you think?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I never said I was great at starting conversations. But I was just thinking about what holiday is next.”

“The worst one,” Eddie complains.

Steve turns toward him. “And why’s that?”

Eddie sighs and let’s himself go on a tangent. “It’s the one day of the year where people feel like they have to do all this shit for their partner, and the rest of the year, they think they can just get by doing the bare minimum. And people are left realizing what it would be like if their ‘other half’ actually put in an effort day to day. And then for all the single people, it’s a day where love is shoved in their face, and they have to feel bad and sometimes disgusted by all the public displays of affection going on around them and… I just hate it all. The stupid chocolates in the red heart boxes and the teddy bears and big heart shaped balloons and roses…”

“I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions about Valentine’s Day,” Steve says with a laugh.

“Well, now you do.”

They both sit in the silence for a few moments, Eddie thinking about all the other things he didn’t even touch on about Valentine’s Day that he hates, while Steve is probably taking in everything he just said.

Steve bumps his shoulder and asks, “So, I’m assuming that means you have no plans.”

Eddie laughs. “That’s what you got out of that?”

Steve shrugs and looks away with a smile.

Eddie glances at his clock and notices it’s technically Thursday now, and in these early hours, Steve will usually either silently fall asleep or he’ll lay awake in the silence until one of his thoughts has to make itself known.

Either way, Eddie knows he’ll be up for a few more hours, but he’s never regret the sleep he’s lost since they’ve made this silent arrangement.

The bed shifts, and Eddie follows Steve’s lead, laying down fully and staring at the ceiling, trying his best not to reach out for the hand laying beside his. He wonders if he should add something to the ceiling like some type of mural with stars and whatnot.

He tilts his head to the side, envisioning how it would look in the lamplight since he and Steve refuse to sleep in the dark. Or maybe it’s just Steve and Eddie’s picked up on the habit of leaving the lamp on.

“Do you think you’ll make plans?” Steve asks quietly.

Eddie turns to look at him, at a lost for a moment before realizing he’s still on the Valentine’s Day subject. He smiles sadly, “No.” Steve glances over at him and holds his gaze, expecting more. Eddie sighs and gestures at himself. “I mean, I’m not exactly what people want to bring home to their parents at the moment plus with the,” he gestures to his face and drops his hand quickly, averting his gaze back to the ceiling.

He hopes Steve will let it go and not connect the dots back to earlier.

A silence settles between them, but Steve’s gaze burns into the side of Eddie’s face. Then, he finally asks, “Is that what distracted you earlier?” When Eddie doesn’t answer he continues, “I saw you looking in the mirror, and I know you usually go out of your way to avoid them.”

Eddie wants to question how Steve noticed, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up about something that was just passively rather than intentionally observed. “Yeah,” Eddie states simply.

The bed shifts as Steve turns on his side to fully face him. “And you really think you can’t get a date because of them?”

Eddie sighs and rubs both of his hands over his face. “Steve, who is ever going to love me like this?” He turns and continues, “Privately, yes, someone could maybe get past the scars. But in public? You really think someone is going to be proud to say, ‘Here’s my boyfriend,’ and show off me?”

“Yes,” Steve says instantly as if he has no doubt in the world.

Eddie turns away, trying not to get choked up about it. Because how can he explain to him that while it’s nice that Steve has that confidence in him, Eddie wants Steve to be the one to be proud of him. To want him like that.

“Do you think my scars make me unlovable?” Steve asks.

“No! Jesus, Steve,” Eddie rushes to say and turns to him. He reached out and lays a hand over his side, feeling the way the skin puckers under the thin t-shirt. “These are metal as hell. Hot even. They make you more lovable if anything.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and slowly pulls it off his side to hold it up, the scar on it being presented out to Eddie. “And this doesn’t make you more lovable?”

“Steve…” Eddie protests quietly as Steve pulls his hand close to stare at it.

“The scars you got protecting us. You think those make you less lovable?” Steve asks, pulling his hand close enough that his lips ghost over the skin.

Eddie lets out a breath that sounds like Steve as Steve presses a soft kiss into the tough skin. He stares at Eddie with a worried look in his eyes as he whispers, “Too much?”

Eddie shakes his head, too stunned to get the words out.

Steve intertwines their hands and pulls Eddie’s arm toward him. “These scars,” he says kissing the next one on his forearm, “Are beautiful on you.” He moves on to the scar on his elbow stretching to his bicep, lips trailing against the sensitive unmarked skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “How could anyone hate these?” He asks leaving three soft, lingering kisses before shifting on the bed to hover above Eddie, still holding his hand but now against his stomach so he can press a kiss against his shoulder. “These scars show everyone what you were willing to sacrifice for us.”

As Steve moves to the scar on his neck, Eddie’s head drops back, giving him more access as he groans out, “Steve.”

“These scars,” Steve says, kissing up his neck over and past the scars, “Are exactly,” he murmurs as he kisses past his jaw and peppers kisses up his cheek, “Why I love you,” Steve finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth near where the scar that Eddie traced earlier ends.

Eddie glances up at Steve as he hovers over him, trying to make sense of everything he’s saying until it finally clicks. “You love me?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods and squeezes his hand before letting it go so he can lightly caress his cheek. “I have since you decided to be a hero and sacrifice yourself. Which was exactly what I told you not to do by the way.”

“I’ve never been great at following rules,” Eddie breathes out and reaches a hand up to run through Steve hair. “Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you, too,” Eddie confesses.

Steve smiles and asks, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He pauses before adding, “You know, one time when I was little, I captured a squirrel and it may have attacked me and left a scar on my lip.”

Steve laughs. “Is that so?”

Eddie smiles and nods.

Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips and he moves his thumb to swipe over his top lip. “You know, I think I see it.”

Eddie debates telling him that it was actually his bottom lip, but instead he just breathes out, “Steve.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks with a teasing smile.

“Steve.”

Steve keeps smiling as he hums, “Hmm?” When Eddie huffs, Steve fakes surprise with a gasp, “Oh. You want me to find the picture for you!”

Eddie groans, “Steve!”

“Uh huh?”

Eddie huffs and cups his face. “You are infuriating.”

“Is that s-”

Eddie interrupts him by taking matters into his own hands and leaning up to kiss him. He feels Steve smile against his lip before finally kissing him back.

Steve pulls away and breathlessly asks, “So, do you think you’ll have plans for Valentine’s Day now?”

Eddie’s head thumps back on the pillow. “Oh my god.” Steve laughs. “Oh my god!” Eddie says and shoves Steve off of him only to roll over so he hovers above him. “You were trying to ask me out this whole time?”

“No, I just wanted to know your opinion of Valentine’s Day.”

Eddie gives him a light punch to the arm and smiles wide as he stares down at Steve, lying beneath him in the golden lamp light. His perfect golden boy.

“I still hate it by the way. Even if I have plans now,” Eddie comments seriously.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put in the effort year round for you and make sure to keep you away from the public that day,” Steve says running a hand through Eddie’s curls before tracing it down the scar on his cheek in a way he thought no one would be able to do - lovingly.

Eddie leans down and gives Steve a quick peck. “I’ve also got some scars on my hips I might want you to check out.”

Steve laughs loudly and pulls him into a kiss that truly makes Eddie breathless, all while tracing his hand over the scar on his cheek. And for the first time, Eddie learns to love the scars adorning his body.

[supernovafics]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends. 

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.” 

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.  

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.” 

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you. 

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did. 

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on. 

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore. 

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely. 

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.  

She looked up at you. “Want some help?” 

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.” 

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm. 

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath. 

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had. 

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August. 

But, shit, you were already in way too deep. 

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.” 

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore. 

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side. 

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway. 

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.  

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.  

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?” 

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.” 

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.” 

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.” 

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders. 

“It’s not easy for me either.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.” 

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.” 

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago. 

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night. 

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire. 

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again. 

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time. 

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.” 

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[1d1195]

Toothpaste I

For you: 🐱 I hope you are feeling better and this is a little something to make you happy. Been thinking about this for a while.

~1.6k words

“Okay, don’t write emails to dentists when you’re in pain,” she shook her head tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dr. Styles chuckled. His laugh was warm, like a chocolate fountain. Or a blanket on a cold January day. “I don’t have patients on Wednesdays,” he murmured.

Twenty-eight was her least favorite number. She dreaded the entire year when she finally hit her twenty-eighth birthday. It seemed like an entire year was going to mock her and she was right.

She got two cavities that year.

Twenty-eight was the number of teeth she had left after her wisdom teeth were pulled when she was sixteen. Twenty-eight was the number of brackets on her teeth that held her braces together when she was eighteen. Cavities plagued her. Sensitivity. Special mouth wash and special toothpaste were needed for the upkeep of her teeth.

When the pain started in her mouth again, she was frustrated, exhausted, and sad.

But this was the second time this tooth had to be filled. It wasn’t the first time her dentist had to fill a tooth more than once. She looked up a second office in response. Her heart was fluttering with anxiety. She had brought a book to read but she couldn’t focus. Her head was starting to ache. She left work early which stressed her out to no end because her boss was a dick and even though she should have just found a new job, she knew she wouldn’t find a better pay entry-level position than any law firm nearby. Her phone hadn’t stopped vibrating with messages and requests.

An hour. All she wanted was an hour to read her book and mourn the loss of her tooth enamel. Frustrated tears filled her eyes. Her mouth hurt and her head hurt.

“Dr. Styles is ready for you, Miss,” the hygienist said sweetly. Taking a deep breath, she collected her book back into her bag and headed toward the patient room with the hygienist down the hall. “Have a seat,” she smiled kindly. “M’just going to get you ready and then Dr. Styles will be in to look you over.”

She could feel her phone vibrating against her hip. The to do list she was anticipating was enough to amplify her headache and she was so close to crying the pain in her tooth was practically welcomed to relieve her of the anxiety and stress she was feeling.

“Good morning, love,” the dentist came in. Dark blue scrubs adorned his tall frame. He looked so handsome it left her speechless. He was looking at the computer reading over the history of her work and latest x-rays from the previous office. “Got some pain, hmm?” She nodded silently, trying to figure out how she didn’t know ahead of time that the dentist was hot as could be. That couldn’t be fair. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed glancing from the screen, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Yeah, just uncomfortable,” she murmured. “Busy day.”

He sat on the little wheelie stool and turned to look at her. His eyes were vibrantly green, his smile was sweet but sympathetic at the same time. “S’quite a bit of work y’had done, love,” he murmured and grabbed a pair of gloves to put on. “Y’got beautiful teeth in there,” he assured her.

“They’re always filled with cavities,” she muttered bitterly.

“M’sorry,” he frowned. “I noticed that myself, actually.” She felt like she was disappointing him by getting cavities. Although she had just met him, she didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Styles, which was such a bizarre worry. “Do y’need t’get that before I get started?” He glanced at the bag by her hip.

She sighed, grabbed her phone. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Her boss snapped so loudly she pulled the phone from her ear. Either Dr. Styles didn’t hear (which she didn’t see how) or he was being kind enough to ignore it.

“A dentist appointment. I sent you an email and put it in your calendar—”

“I need your help. Now.”

There was no argument to be had in his tone.

“Mr. Dalecki,” she started. “I’m very sorry, I’ll be there in a bit but I’m in so much pain—” Her voice cracked, and she felt the tears so close to the surface. Overwhelmed by her work and her pain.

“I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to agree or argue, she wasn’t sure what was going to come out of her mouth but then suddenly her phone wasn’t in her hand.

“Mr. Dalecki, was it?” Harry said into the phone. “Dr. Harry Styles. She’s in immense pain and I’m insistent I take care of her cavity today. It might be a root canal. She’s in no condition to work today and probably not tomorrow either. Doctor’s orders. I’ll write her a note whatever you need, but she will not be in today,” Harry put her phone on the counter away from her as it started to vibrate again. “M’sorry I suggested getting it,” he said and held out the tissue box on the counter.

She sniffled. “I need a root canal?” She whimpered.

He chuckled. “Oh, love, no. M’sorry. I jus’ wanted that man off the phone,” he shook his head. “M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh,” she sniffed again. “I’m really sorry. I’m so overwhelmed and upset. I’m almost terrified of being here. I always have issues and my teeth are the worst,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, s’alright, love,” he assured her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Y’take care of your teeth right?” He asked.

“Religiously,” she assured him. “I brush three times a day. I floss daily sometimes twice. I use prescription toothpaste and mouthwash. I don’t eat lots of candy and I drink through a straw and water down juice or anything too sugary,” she had tears falling down her cheeks.

“Okay, love,” his thumb gently moved up and down her shoulder. She had never heard of a dentist having good bedside manners. “S’okay, m’gonna take a look now. Can I have y’sit back?” He murmured and slid back briefly on the chair and closed the door. She sniffled.

“I’m so sorry. I’m usually more put together than this,” she laughed tearily.

“S’okay I can tell y’frustrated. M’sister gets like this sometimes.”

She sniffled. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

He turned back, put a mask over his pretty face so she had no choice but to look at his gorgeous eyes magnified by the little glasses and light that shone in her face. “Y’have really nice teeth, love,” he assured her.

“You have to say that to everyone,” she mumbled when he turned to mark something in the computer.

He chuckled. “I do not. M’sorry you’re in pain, love,” he was gentle as he placed the little mirror into his mouth. “Hmm,” he hummed.

“S-bad, in’-it?’

“No, love. S’not bad,” he murmured quietly. “Relax y’fingers and shoulders, please. Y’making me nervous,” he chuckled very softly. Like he had stuck his dental tools in her mouth a hundred times. “S’jus’ a little cavity.”

Tears sprang back to her eyes, and she nodded. “I figured.”

“M’sorry, love. S’little, though I promise. Out of here in half an hour. No root canal—I promise.”

She sniffed and glanced away. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I’ve had such an overwhelming week and I put this off and it’s not even a big cavity and I’m in so much pain—” She started to cry again, and Harry pulled the glasses and light off his eyes and listened so intently, his face empathetic and kind as she bubbled with tears. She could hear her phone vibrating. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to get fired,” she croaked.

Harry frowned, turned to the cabinets, and searched for medicines to help her. He pulled his gloves off. “Let’s jus’ sit and relax for a bit,” he suggested handing her two pills and filled a little cup of water for her. She wiped her eyes and took it gratefully.

“Don’t you have other patients?”

“No,” he chuckled. “That intake form y’filled out?” Dr. Styles turned to the computer again and cleared his throat. “I am sorry to bother you, but I am in so much pain and need emergency dental help tomorrow if you’re able. My current dentist has filled this tooth twice and I think I’m going to yank the tooth out with pliers, and I don’t HAVE pliers so I will have to go buy some and I will probably pull it out in the middle of the hardware store and everyone will—”

“Okay, don’t write emails to dentists when you’re in pain,” she shook her head tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dr. Styles chuckled. His laugh was warm, like a chocolate fountain. Or a blanket on a cold January day. “I don’t have patients on Wednesdays,” he murmured. Her heart skipped a beat. His kindness was unlike any dentist she had before. It felt so unnerving but nice in the best way. “But I made an exception,” he explained. “Couldn’t imagine someone pulling out a tooth at a hardware store.”

Her heart was fluttering. “I hate dentists.”

He laughed, wholeheartedly. “Even me?”

“Well...you haven’t drilled my tooth yet,” she mumbled. “But you might have gotten me fired.”

“I couldn’t in good faith let y’go back t’work, love. Not when you’re in so much pain.”

She looked at her lap. “I always have cavities.”

“M’gonna get to the bottom of it, love. Right after we fill this little guy.”

“My second bicuspid?”

“Should have been a dentist, hmm?” he smirked at his computer making notes.

“I’ve had so much work done,” she explained. “Half way through law school I thought about becoming a dentist.”

“Well, if he does fire you,” he turned back to her with a pointed expression. “And based on the reaction y’had, I think only an idiot would fire you. I’d gladly have y’work here,” he assured her. “Match whatever he paid you and then some,” he promised.

She frowned, feeling overwhelmed, sad, and relieved beyond belief.

“Thank you, Dr. Styles.”

“Call me Harry, love.”

--

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[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 9

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.9k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: Something is up with Din.

a/n: Happy Wednesday! See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: some angst, fluff, touching, dancing, ogling, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos)

Chapter 9

Between the April mixed program and Cinderella, your rehearsals with Din hit a wall. 

You hadn’t been expecting it — things were going so well, and you’d found such ease with each other. Or so you’d thought. But suddenly, only days after your so-called feelings freak out and confession to Adrian, there was a tension between you that you thought you’d gotten rid of weeks ago. Unless it was something new, you worried. Unless it was because of you. You really hoped it wasn’t.

It wasn’t quite like January all over again, but you started to miss each other. You were tense. It was feeling more and more like dancing with a stranger than with the partner you’d gotten to know, that you had put so much time into connecting with. You were growing more and more frustrated at the idea of going backwards. You didn’t want to struggle like that again.

With just one month to go before the anniversary gala, and only Cinderella standing between it and you, you were starting to worry that you’d lost whatever it was that was making this pas de deux work. 

And despite Adrian’s reassurances, you hoped it wasn’t because of the realization you’d had when Din smiled at you. You wracked your brain, but you couldn’t think of anything else it could be. If all of this sudden tension was coming from you, simply because you’d finally given in and named your own feelings, you were going to have to be the one to fix it. But you couldn’t seem to figure out what you were doing differently.

In your next practice, after a couple of weeks of growing problems in rehearsals, Kuiil looked pensive. You didn’t like that he seemed to be frowning. “There is something that is missing. We must find it, before we can move forward.” He looked between you and Din and you resisted the urge to cross your arms. “There is a barrier between you that we must lower, before we can find success in the third movement.”

You tried to hide your wince. You nodded, and glanced at Din. His expressionless mask was back in place, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach at the sight. 

“I am going to add more practice time for you both, without me. Work through this. I know you will.” He looked at you and, without another word, waved you out. Din crossed the threshold and disappeared down the hall before you could so much as say his name.

…

The next day you hesitantly made your way to the small practice room Kuiil had booked for your extra rehearsal with Din. It was the same one you and Din had had your first real talk in, and you hoped that was a good sign.

When you stepped inside, your hope started to dwindle. Din met you with his expressionless mask in place. It had been so long since he hid from you like that, when it was just the two of you. It put you on edge.

“Hi,” you said, sitting to put on your shoes. “Should we—” talk, you were going to say, but Din interrupted you.

“Let’s start with the third,” he said, voice flat. You frowned but nodded.

“Alright,” you said softly. For a moment you thought he might respond, but then he turned towards the sound system and you could only furrow your brow at his back, wondering what was going on. Now that you were alone and not so focused on your own worries with Kuiil watching, it was like you could see Din clearly. For the first time in weeks. Maybe it’s not just you, after all.

You ran through the third movement once, but somehow it felt even worse than in practice. The choreography for the third was complex – unlike the second, when you circled each other, in the third you were in almost constant contact. You barely stepped away from each other. At times Din was chasing you, at others you guided him. You reflected each other and supported each other, all the while growing closer and closer. 

At least, you were supposed to. You had to be totally in sync to make this choreography work and suddenly it felt wrong, all wrong. You didn’t even make it to the end. About halfway through, as Din was about to lift you, you felt his hands grab your hips in the wrong position and winced. 

Before you could think about it, you said, voice flat, “Stop.”

Din stopped instantly. He’d barely raised you a few inches but he set you down so gently it made you soften.

“Are you ok?” He asked, taking a step back. He sounded concerned, at least, even if he wasn’t showing it in his face.

“Din…” you started, unsure of what to say. “What’s going on?” You settled on the most straightforward question you could think of. “It was going well, but now… it’s like it was before… before. What happened?” You hoped he had an answer for you, and that it wasn’t just because you were letting your silly little crush affect your dancing. 

He looked down and took a deep breath. When he looked back up at you, the mask was finally gone. You sucked in a sharp breath at his expression.

He looked anxious. He even looked a little afraid. 

“Din—” you started, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “It’s… shit. It’s me and I’m just getting in my head again. I thought I could…” he trailed off, and then shook his head at himself. “I’m nervous.”

You tilted your head and stepped closer to him. You wanted to reach out and touch his arm, but you didn’t want him to shy away. “Nervous?”

He met your eyes again, and then nodded. “I… this might sound ridiculous.”

Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head. “I doubt it, Din. It’s clearly bothering you.”

He sighed and looked down at the floor, to your right. “I’ve never… it’s not the dance. And it’s not you.” He glanced up at you without lifting his head and you tried not to think about him looking at you through his lashes. “It’s… the costume.”

You blinked. The costume? You thought back and realized you had been fitted for your final costumes the same week you had your big feelings freak out in the small break room with Adrian. “The costume? What do you mean?”

He turned and started pacing in front of you. His hands were clenched into fists. “I’ve never… CBC was so traditional. All of the costumes, they usually looked like something you’d wear to an old fashioned court. Something with long sleeves and multiple layers and flowy fabric and frills.” He stopped, facing away from you, and you watched as his shoulders slumped. You froze. His shoulders that were covered in a tight, long sleeve black shirt. You suddenly realized that you’d never seen him in anything less than partial sleeves, and only then on stage, in other costumes. You took another step forward as he continued, “it’s been over a decade since I wore anything like that costume, since I’ve been so…” He trailed off without finishing his thought.

Your eyebrows flew upward, and you were glad he couldn’t see the surprise on your face. His costume was much, much different than what he’d just described to you. In the first place, there wasn’t a shirt at all. It was only shorts, really. Very short black shorts. And a bit of body paint.

You blinked. You suddenly thought you might understand the problem.

“Din,” you said, and reached out to touch his shoulder. He turned slightly to look at you, and you saw his anxiety plain on his face. 

“I know,” he said, before you could say anything but his name. “It’s silly. It’s foolish. I feel like a fool. A dancer, afraid of a costume?” He scoffed at himself, and your heart sank. “My job is to perform for people.” He sounded like he was working himself up, and you couldn’t stand it.

You moved around him and, facing him, grasped his shoulders. He looked up at you, startled. “Din,” you said again, and this time you didn’t let him interrupt you. “It’s not foolish to feel uncomfortable in a costume. It doesn’t matter how many you’ve worn before, or how many times you’ve performed. That doesn’t necessarily make you comfortable with every possible costume there is.”

He blinked and opened his mouth, but you kept going.

“You said you haven’t worn anything like this in years, right?” He nodded. “Ok. And what if I told you I was nervous about wearing a costume that revealed what I usually had hidden behind tutus or skirts? Would you think I was foolish?”

He dropped his gaze, but shook his head. 

“No,” you murmured. “You see? It’s ok. I… thank you for telling me.”

For a moment neither of you said anything. When he looked back up at you and thanked you, his face was more open than it had been in weeks. You hadn’t even realized how much he must have been hiding from you until he stopped. 

You smiled at him, and he smiled tentatively back. You started to slide your hands down his arms, to release him, but he caught them both in a gentle grip. You felt your face heat. You were, effectively, holding hands. You tried to ignore it but he squeezed your hands gently.

“You’re right,” he said. “But I… I don’t know how to… get comfortable.” He sounded so uncomfortable at the idea that you winced sympathetically. 

“Well,” you said, “it seems like you don’t want to ask for something different, for the costume.”

He shook his head firmly. “No. I won’t… I want to be different. Now.”

You considered that, and wondered if you could ask. You decided to try. “What do you mean by different? It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked down. You waited for an answer, and as the silence lengthened, you worried you had overstepped. But then he seemed to nod to himself, and answered, “at CBC there are… rules. A lot of rules.” He paused again and shook his head, still looking down instead of meeting your eyes. “You can probably guess some of them – perfect technique, discipline. It’s all about the group. Individual artistry is not… encouraged.”

You squeezed his hands, trying to offer some sort of comfort since he still wasn’t looking at you.

“Everything is predictable. The roles are always the same, and the only thing that ever changes is the choreography or the staging, not…” he sighed. “Not what a dancer can bring to a role. It almost doesn’t matter who’s dancing it. That’s not really… important.”

You turned that over in your mind. You’d definitely had performances where you felt more exposed in a costume, but it also went hand-in-hand with your own artistry. That had always been part of it, at NBT and where you danced before, even when the choreography was playing with unified movement or group dynamics. You could see how Kuiil’s choreography and now this costume would make him feel exposed. There was nothing to hide behind — it was all on show.

“But it’s important to you, right?” you asked. You were pretty sure you knew what he meant by different.

Din nodded and finally looked at you. His brow was furrowed but his expression was open. “I realized, when we did Giselle – I was Albrecht – that I was missing something. I went to school at CBC, obviously, so they trained me, and then I started with the company when I was 17. I didn’t… I’d never known anything different. I thought we were doing everything the right way. They think it’s the only way. But then we did Giselle, just a couple of years ago, and after one of the performances I met Kuiil.”

You squeezed his hands again in surprise. You’d noticed that he seemed comfortable with Kuiil, and suddenly that made sense. He squeezed back.

“I’d already gotten some negative feedback about my performance from CBC, about everything except my technique. So I thought I was doing something wrong. But I–” he closed his eyes again and you let yourself watch his face as he remembered. “I liked it so much. I felt like I was really telling a story for the first time. That I was playing a character and not just filling a hole. I didn’t know what to think, when it felt so right to me and they thought it was wrong. I think Kuiil must have noticed.” He opened his eyes again and immediately met your gaze. “He approached me after the show and said, ‘there is an artist inside of you that is fighting to reach the surface. You can do more.’”

You smiled, wryly. “Sounds like Kuiil.”

Din laughed, shortly. “That wasn’t all he said. But that’s the part that stuck with me. And from then on… I stopped fitting into the mold, into what they wanted me to be. It wasn’t obvious at first. But eventually no one could ignore it anymore.”

You wanted to ask about that, but Din suddenly stood up straighter and squeezed your hands again. “So… this is hard for me. I don’t have anywhere to hide in this piece. It’s just me out there, so much more than in anything else I’ve ever done. So much relies on what I can bring to it. And now, with this costume…” He shook his head and looked at you.

You thought about that, about suddenly being dropped into such an unfamiliar situation, and you had an idea. “Din, what if we practiced?”

Din looked at you and frowned. “Practiced?”

You nodded. “In these extra rehearsals, when it’s just the two of us. You could… practice. Dance without your shirt. If you get used to it around me, it would probably feel easier on stage. And hey, it’s not just you out there, right? It’s you and me, together. Partners.” When you’d started talking, you’d been certain that this was a good idea. But as you finished, you realized exactly what you’d just done to yourself.

Din’s mouth lifted in that little half smile and you felt your heart rate pick up. “Practice, just you and me. That’s smart. I like it. Ok.”

“Ok?”

He nodded. “Let’s practice.” He let go of your hands and closed his eyes. You watched as he drew in a deep breath. As he let it out, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and, after a pause, stripped it off in one fluid movement. Like he was ripping off a bandaid. 

Fuck. 

You couldn’t help but look. The lines of his chest as he turned and then the strong muscles in his back, all on display for you. Your eyes darted from his biceps to his shoulders to the curve of his waist. He was wearing tights under his sweats and somehow it only emphasized the strength in his hips. 

You were glad he’d turned away from you almost immediately, walking towards his bag to put his shirt inside. You could see your expression in the mirror and swore at yourself. Shit, get it together. You blinked and rubbed your hands over your face. By the time he turned back towards you, you’d rearranged your face into something vaguely neutral. You hoped so, at least.

“Ok?” You asked, trying valiantly not to let your gaze drop to his chest again. His very toned, muscular, attractive, perfect chest. Fuck. He was already nervous, you reminded yourself. Don’t fucking stare. 

Din nodded. He clenched his fists but then released them, shaking out his hands. His shoulders looked a little tense but nothing like before. “Ok.”

You were glad he was ok. You were starting to worry that you might not be ok.

“Great!” You said, maybe a little too brightly. “Let’s try it again.” You turned away from him to walk towards the sound system, needing just a moment again to school your features. Get it the fuck together, you berated yourself silently while you queued up the music. “The third?”

“Yes,” he agreed. By the time you turned around, he was in position and ready to start. You squared your shoulders and joined him. 

As the music started, his body moved in unison with yours, and your heart swelled. Almost immediately it was clear — your connection was back. Clearing the air had torn down the wall between you and it felt so good to be dancing with him like this again. Every movement felt connected and real and you were giddy, so giddy you could almost distract yourself from the fact that his chest was bare before you. Bare for you to touch. 

You couldn’t help but smile as you finished the choreography you’d finalized with Kuiil so far. You turned around to find him smiling, too. “Much better,” you said, grinning. 

Din nodded. “Thank you.”

“For what?” 

His smile softened. “You always know what to do. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You pretended not to notice your face getting hot. “Hey, this is a partnership, Din Djarin. We help each other.” 

He laughed, and you tried not to let it show on your face how beautiful he was when he did.

...

prev | next

a/n: aren't we glad they figured that out? lol

Costumes -- so this is maybe the first time in the fic that we might be stretching ballet reality a little bit, lol, but not too much. It's a little bit unrealistic for a company to be so traditional as I describe CBC, but there are definitely companies that are more like that. Many have at least a few contemporary numbers in their repertoire these days, with more contemporary costumes. But it isn't totally wild for Din to have this issue and these nerves if he's been with the same company all his life (and he has -- he went to school there, too). So while he might have been less covered up in rehearsals and such, especially when he was younger, it's just been a really long time (years) since he's been so exposed on stage. And add that to him feeling so exposed about dancing a new style, and well. Also, when I say exposed, I mean something like this. Or this. (for those in the know, they're one of the companies that does covered up men in Le Corsaire, ok?)

Giselle - Din mentions that he was Albrecht in Giselle at CBC. Albrecht is definitely one of the most technically difficult roles for men in ballet, but in most companies, it would also be tough because of the acting required. Giselle is a romantic ballet, and definitely one that CBC does begrudgingly because it's popular and draws in a crowd. It's too emotional for them, all about narrative and emotions, and CBC is all about distance and ethereal technique. Din would have gotten the role at 25, which is seen by some as kind of young for Albrecht! But he got it because of his skill, and then he did too much with it for CBC to be happy. Here's a few versions of Albrecht's famous variation (Simkin, MacKay, Simkin on stage, Bolle, Hallberg) which happens after he visits Giselle's grave and is feeling extremely guilty, and is also pleading for his own life as he dances. In a more emotion-friendly company he's meant to be in agony.

[thisisnotthenerd]

Dimension 20 Wrapped: 2024

It's the first day of 2025, so it's time for a look back at this year of Dimension 20.

General Stats:

We saw a total of 47 Episodes of D20, across 3 seasons and a live tour in the UK. This counted for 98 hours, 50 minutes, and 30 seconds of time on screen, or just over 4 days.

We are now up to 268 total episodes, with 6 more coming starting next Wednesday, January 8th. If we count all of the Dimension 20 content on Dropout, including Adventuring Party, Adventuring Academy, Dimension 20: Behind the Scenes, and Dimension 20 Animated, we're up to 585 episodes.

We got a threequel with Fantasy High: Junior Year and our first sidequest sequel with Misfits and Magic: Season 2.

We also saw the use of a new system in the dome for two seasons: Never Stop Blowing Up. This mix of Kids on Bikes with Murph's Awful Dice Game made for some absolutely insane moments of game-breaking hilarity.

Cast:

We only saw one new cast member in 2024: Jacob Wysocki.

Other than that, we had a plethora of returning cast, with Fantasy High: Junior Year and the Time Quangle live tour featuring the main cast:

Emily Axford

Zac Oyama

Siobhan Thompson

Lou Wilson

Ally Beardsley

Brian Murphy

and Brennan Lee Mulligan as the GM

Never Stop Blowing Up, featuring:

Izzy Roland

Alex Song-Xia

Jacob Wysocki

Ify Nwadiwe

Ally Beardsley

Rekha Shankar

and Brennan Lee Mulligan as the GM

Misfits and Magic: Season 2, featuring

Lou Wilson

Erika Ishii

Danielle Radford

Brennan Lee Mulligan

and Aabria Iyengar as the GM/Magic Mommy

Production:

As always, the dome keeps leveling up with each new season, as we saw:

brand new interactive projections

tons of props and tokens

physical character boards

a moving orrery in the middle of the table

a written test in the middle of a fight

and some of the best battle maps in Dimension 20 history

if you want to see more of these stats and where they come from, feel free to check out the spreadsheets:

thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats for general stats, mechanical breakdowns, seating charts, and more

D20 Episode Randomizer for all the watch orders you could ever want, from chronological, to alphabetical, to utterly random selections at the click of a button.

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast. 

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application. 

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.  

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes. 

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious. 

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day. 

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab. 

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.” 

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day. 

“What’ll you have?” 

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in. 

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to. 

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow. 

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.” 

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.  

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad. 

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.” 

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this.  Hopper winced a bit before he spoke. 

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt. 

Henderson might have made him cry. 

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense. 

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve. 

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved. 

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up. 

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids. 

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him. 

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended. 

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee. 

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.  

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>

[amongussexgif]

One of my friends tried convincing me that ChatGPT was smart, so I did a little experimenting.

TLDR; it's dumb. it's real dumb. like. obscenely stupid.

this was supposed to be an easy question for it:

I asked this just after midnight on Sunday, April 21, 2024. I would have accepted Saturday as an answer, but it insisted on Wednesday and Friday several times. No idea why.

Next, I wanted to see if it knew things about internet culture. It knew who @pukicho was when I asked, so

rightbefore this, it acknowledged pukicho as, direct quote "sarcastic, rude, and witty," so I have no idea how it got this.

to test it's knowledge cutoffs, I asked it:

Oh, great! It knows about the SA2 fandub, too! Let's test it's ability to continue a conversation.

...it forgot the question I asked it immediately before this.

I thought this might be the case. It can't hold a thread of conversation. So I clarified:

okay, yeah, it just needed context to be re-fed to it. even then, though, IT DIDNT ANSWER THE QUESTION? all it said was "it dont count so who care" which made me wonder if it could count

It was wrong again. for two reasons this time. Susan should still have counted because she did attend, and it completely ignored the speaker. The robot that runs companies is worse at word problems than I was in second grade.

I wondered if I was somehow being lied to, and that reminded me of an hbomberguy video. on a whim, I asked it:

this is incredibly odd. If it was using the number that guiness provided at the time, it should have said three. if it was using any of the numbers that tommy provided, it should have said either four, five, or seven. it said zero.

This was as of January 2022, BEFORE the hbomberguy video and BEFORE they got a record removed. Even if it's knowledge cutoff was more recent and it lied, it should have said two.

I wondered if it struggled with their website or something, so I asked it something pertaining to another website (and yes, I made sure the information was before it's knowledge cutoff)

Okay, so it can navigate NexusMods. great. It even included the mod's author, and was right about that. but, hang on...

IT'S LITERALLY WRONG!! IT IS ELEVEN MONTHS OFF!! HOW!? IT'S WRITTEN IN PLAINTEXT ON THE WEBSITE, THERE SHOULDN'T BE ANY ISSUES HERE? WHAT!? HOW!? HOW IS IT THIS FUCKING STUPID!?

to see if it really was just stupid, I tried one last question.

yup, it's dumb.

[tamapalace]

Bandai Namco US Announces Wave 2 Tamagotchi Connection Shells

Wave 2 shells are here, and they’ll be out this winter, 2025! The shells include 1 ported over from Japan’s wave 1, 2 revivals from 2006, and 2 refresh new shells! How awesome is this mix?

First the ported Japan wave 1 shells which of course we already knew Melon Soda! This is the first time ever that the Melon Soda shell will be sold in North America. Pay your respects, and order more than one.

Then we have two revivals from 2006. These include the Orange Burst shell, which has a beautiful orange color shell and a yellow burst around the screen along with some green stars. Then there is the Translucent Pink shell which we’ve expressed our interest in returning. A pink translucent shell with pink accents. On Wednesday’s, we wear pink!

Lastly, we have two new shells. First is Sweet charms which features diamonds, and hearts very cutesy, and second we have Neon Stars which features a black shell (which you know we love), and some stars around the display.

All set to be released January 8th, 2025, preorders are up on Amazon! Which one is your favorite?