#casserole humor

[what-marsha-eats]

[misforgotten2]

Ore-Ida could back off on the carbs.

Better Homes and Gardens December 1973

[alchemistc]

i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.

Big Blind

Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --

"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.

He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.

"You have a good night."

Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.

Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"

Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.

"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.

"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.

"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."

"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."

Gary hums, again.

Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.

Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"

Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"

Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.

He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.

Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.

Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.

Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.

-----

He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.

Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.

"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.

With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.

"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."

"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"

Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."

"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.

Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.

And.

Shit.

Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.

Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.

Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?

Tommy sorts through the memories.

Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.

Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.

The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."

"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."

Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.

Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.

As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.

Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.

He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."

"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"

Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.

"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.

"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.

"Hazards of blind dating."

Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.

Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.

"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.

Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.

-----

Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."

"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"

Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"

Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"

Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"

"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"

The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."

Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."

"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."

"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."

"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."

"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.

"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."

If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"

"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"

Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."

Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."

"I'll talk to you later, Evan."

"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."

Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."

Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."

The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.

Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?

Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.

See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.

He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.

"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"

Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

[joelalorian]

neighborhood watch

neighbor!frankie morales x f!reader | wc: 5.7k | masterlist

Summary: When someone - or something - starts causing mischief around your new neighborhood, you and your neighbor Frankie are paired up for the new neighborhood watch.

Warnings: Not much, just cursing. Though this fic is rated T for Tame, this blog as a whole is 18+ mdni. Fluff and humor. Reader is a blank slate. No use of y/n.

A/N: This is my contribution to @punkshort's AU August Challenge to celebrate Shortie's 1-year tumblrversary. I was given the AU prompt neighbor!Frankie and ran with it. Hope you enjoy!

Palm trees lined both sides of the road, fronds gently swaying in the sea breeze as you drove through the picturesque neighborhood of bungalows to your new home. After a long and winding journey nearly halfway across the country to get there, you sighed in relief when you pulled your Wrangler into the small driveway. With all your – admittedly limited – worldly possessions shoved into the backseat, truck, and every other available crevice; you couldn’t wait to get out of the cramped space.

An old Florida 2/1 painted the color of green sea glass, the bungalow greeted you with a charming porch and two large windows bisected by the front door. The gabled roof offered taller ceilings and the wood flooring was original. By far, your favorite feature was the reading nook nestled into the living room with built-in shelves for books and the comfiest cushion to lounge on while reading or simply staring out the bay window.

Yeah, everything about this place beat what you left behind. Shitty apartment in a shitty part of a shitty town and an even shittier ex-boyfriend. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. You were still in awe that you managed to dig yourself out of that toxic situation before it completely destroyed you and scrounge up the money for this place. Thankfully, it came furnished. You didn’t have much money left for anything else.

You spent the afternoon unloading your belongings, organizing, and rearranging the place to your liking, blinds open to let the natural light in – anything to save on electric when the AC unit would be running nonstop. With the router and wifi connected, you curled up in the reading nook and watched as your new neighbors started coming home from work or set about walking dogs and mowing their small yards. A few glanced curiously at the sight of a vehicle in your driveway, no doubt wondering about the new resident.

Was this the type of neighborhood where neighbors would bring you casseroles to introduce themselves? Surely that was something only done in television shows and cheesy movies, right?

No less than an hour later, a kindly looking older woman knocked on your door, a covered dish in her hands. She greeted you with aged eyes and a toothy smile when you opened the door.

“Well, hello dear. I’m Stella and just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” Stella casually peeked into the house as she spoke, not bothering to hide the blatant snooping, and you shook your head in amusement.

“Nice to meet you, Stella,” you replied, offering your name. “Would you like to come in?” The woman practically craned her neck to get a look, how could you not invite her in.

“Oh! That would be lovely, dear. As long as you don’t mind. Maybe we could snack on this key lime pie I made for you?” She bustled right in, making herself at home at your tiny dining table and you shut the door to follow her, grabbing plates and forks along the way.

“Would you like something to drink, Stella?” you asked from the kitchen. “I don’t have much yet, but I made lemonade.”

“Lemonade is great, thank you.” After a moment, she added, “Will anyone else be joining us?”

“Unless there’s a ghost hiding out in this place, I doubt it,” you replied, taking a seat across the table from her.

For the next hour, Stella grilled you for information – where were you from, what brought you to this particular neighborhood, were you single. The list of questions went on and on, but she was so kind and friendly about it that it didn’t feel intrusive. Still, relief washed over you when she changed topics from you to sharing information about the other neighbors. Much of it went in one ear and out the other until she got to someone who piqued your interest. Stella talked A LOT.

“There are two men about your age a few doors down. They are the nicest boys, always offering a hand when they can. Benny and Frankie are their names and they have been friends since they served in the military together. Quite handsome, too.”

Stella watched you as she spoke, keen eyes gauging your reaction, and she smiled when you perked up.

“Oh?” you said wanting to hear more.

“Mmhmm, thought those two might get your attention,” the older woman chuckled merrily. “Frankie is the one with dark hair and soulful eyes. He’d run into some sort of trouble a bit ago, which is why he lives with Benny while getting back on his feet.”

You hummed. “I know how that goes.” You wondered what kind of trouble he got into, but you didn’t ask Stella. That was something you’d want to hear firsthand from Frankie, if he ever wanted to share, not the rumor mill.

“Don’t we all,” Stella agreed. “Benny is the blonde one, a little younger and full of energy. Comes home with a bruised face a lot. I think he boxes or something. I’ll never understand young men and their desire to beat each other up.”

You smiled dreamily, mind wandering as Stella continued talking. While all the neighbors sounded normal, you looked forward to meeting Benny and Frankie from just the little Stella shared. They seemed most like your kind of people. The broken souls just trying to make it through life one day at a time.

It took a week to fully settle in and meet most of the neighbors. Stella lived right next door with another older couple, Ann and John, next to her. Benny and Frankie lived next door to them. One the other side of you lived a young couple, Kara and Matt, newlyweds who moved in not too long ago, followed by a quiet woman by the name of Lynn, and a busy couple in their 30s with two small children, who you referred to as “The Kellys”, finger quotes included. They scurried to and from their house like cockroaches afraid of the sun, never stopping to interact with the neighbors. You found it oddly amusing.

Across from you was another eclectic bunch of neighbors – an artist, two retired teachers, a retired cop, an insurance agent and housewife, and a variety of others whose names you were still learning.

You met Benny pretty quickly, crossing paths one morning while going for a run. Stella hadn’t lied, he was cute, but in like a golden retriever kind of way that made you want to scratch his head and throw him a ball to fetch. He was just not your type, if you even had a type. Given your track record… nah, you weren’t going down that road.

Frankie, on the other hand, was an elusive creature. He tended to work a lot if the hours were available, Benny told you. It took an extra week to meet him, and it happened completely by accident while going to check your mail. A collective mailbox area sat next to the small clubhouse, and you started swinging by at the end of your morning runs to check your mail. It gave you some time to cool down and get rid of the junk mail before you got home.

Eagerly awaiting the severance package from your last job, you excitedly rushed around the corner after that morning’s run to get to your mailbox. The collision with a hard chest knocked you right off your feet, leg muscles too fatigued from your three-mile run to stabilize after the impact.

“Oomph,” you grunted at the initial impact, quickly followed by, “Oh, shit!” as you fell backwards on your ass.

“Fucking hell! I’m so sorry!” came the rushed, masculine reply as strong arms shot out to catch you just a moment too late.

You stared up, wide-eyed, from your seated position on the grass – at least you didn’t crash down on the sidewalk – to meet the prettiest pair of baby cow eyes you’d ever seen, the irises a shade of coffee brown you could just drink in for days. Your eyes roved the man’s face, meeting tanned skin flecked with stubble and pouty lips, dark locks curled out beneath a ball cap, twisting around the backs of his ears and along the absolutely kissable stretch of skin on the back of his neck.

One large hand moved to rub along that exact expanse of skin, a nervous tic perhaps, as the other reached out to help you back to your feet.

“Are you alright? I’m really sorry ‘bout that. Wasn’t watching where I was going,” the man said once you stood before him.

Brushing the grass off your ass and the back of your thighs, you waved him off. “No, no, I’m fine and it was completely my fault. I charged around the corner like a bull in a China shop.”

The man laughed in relief, blush still visible on his pinchable cheeks. “Yeah, you kinda did. Almost knocked me off my feet, too.”

Eyeing his exceptionally broad form doubtfully, you shook your head. “I’m your new neighbor, by the way,” you said, reaching out a hand and giving him your name.

“Oh! I’ve heard about the pretty addition to the neighborhood,” he winked at you, taking your hand in a firm grip. “I’m Francisco Morales, but everyone calls me Frankie. I think you met my roommate Benny already. He’s the one who said you were pretty. He wasn’t lying.”

Heat rushed your face at the rambled compliments. Frankie was a delightful mix of flirty, nervous, and shy which you found incredibly endearing. He was also gorgeous.

Flustered and overheated, the need to flee overwhelmed you. “Well, it was nice to finally meet you, Frankie. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you called over your shoulder as you moved to your mailbox in the back corner of the space.

“You can count on it,” he called back before departing. He didn’t notice you peek around the corner to check out his backside as he walked away. His jeans hugged his ass in a pleasing way and his shirt stretched across his shoulders, the seams hanging on for dear life.

Frankie was going to be trouble; you could feel it. The best kind of trouble, yes, but trouble none the less.

Working from home allowed you to keep a great schedule. No more long commutes to the office, getting caught in traffic on the interstate, spending too much money on gas, or racking up the mileage on your car. You loved the Wrangler, but fuel economy was not its best quality. Instead, you could sleep until a respectable hour, still get a morning run or walk in, and have time for a shower and breakfast before plopping down at your desk for the workday.

And you loved your new job. Not only did you get to work from home, but you were paid to learn and develop learning programs for corporate trainings all day. The nerd in you danced with joy every time you learned something new or received feedback on something you put together.

The only downfall to this new life of yours?

Loneliness.

Sure, video calls with clients and colleagues peppered your days and you occasionally ran into a neighbor on your morning runs. But real human connection? No, there was none of that. Aside from talking to the plants or yourself, you didn’t even have a pet to provide companionship.

Three weeks after settling in, you found yourself at the shelter browsing adoptable animals. Growing up loving animals but never allowed to have pets – even your asshole ex was adamant about not having any in the house, which you should have seen as a giant red flag much sooner – you were finally able to add a furry little being to your family. You weren’t picky either, going in completely open-minded and letting the universe choose a fur friend for you.

The universe delivered ten minutes after arriving at the shelter when a big-eared, blue-eyed, black and white shepherd looking dog bounded up to you excitedly, darting directly between your legs and goosing you so hard it felt like your soul left your body with the yelp that burst from your lips.

“Joshua! No!” a harried volunteer called out, rushing over to you and the overly eager four-legged fiend. “I am so sorry! He loves people and picks out his favorites with a little too much zest.”

The woman wrangled the dog, which was no easy feat. Bigger than a breadbox but smaller than a German Shepherd, Joshua was a sturdy boy – and strong, based on the visible muscles in his hind legs – presenting a challenge when he put his mind to it.

Right then, his mind focused on you, and he refused to leave your side, licking at your hands with his pink tongue, booping you with his snout until you scratched his head, ears perked up as he gazed at you with those ice blue eyes.

You fell in love instantly. Plopping down on the ground, right there in the middle of the kennel walkway, you ruffled Joshua’s short-haired fur. He practically smiled in delight and melted into you as you pet him, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he presented his belly.

A pile of paperwork and a small fee later, you and Joshua the two-year-old McNab Shepherd headed to the pet store for goodies to start your adventure together. Joshua herded you around the store with single-minded determination, choosing his toys and treats while you spoke to the staff about the best food to feed him. Hundreds of dollars later, a gangly teenager helped you load a large dog bed, 50-pound bag of dry food, and two bags full of toys and treats into the Wrangler. Joshua sat shotgun, head hanging out the window as you drove home.

Joshua settled right in with minimal fuss, spending his days laying under your desk while you worked, booping you with his snout when he needed attention or walkies, and – worst part – chomping on your right ass cheek when you weren’t going in the direction he wanted. That was a habit you needed to break, asap. With Joshua at your side, you found yourself outside more, stopping to talk to all the neighbors and being recruited to join the new neighborhood watch. Suddenly, you no longer felt lonely or left out.

Tim, the retired cop who lived across the street, started the neighborhood watch out of boredom, you reckoned. He served the public in larger cities for much of his law enforcement career, and the small-town life took a while for him to get used to. Thus, Tim liked to patrol the neighborhood, self-identifying as the Sheriff of Paradise, keeping an eye out for mischief.

Recently, Tim noticed evidence of some mischief in the form of knocked over garbage cans and missing or broken lawn ornaments. Minor things that could potentially be explained away by blaming the occasional trash panda searching for a midnight snack. Like a dog with a bone, Tim was unwilling to chalk it up to mischievous racoons and began recruiting neighbors to join him in keeping an eye on the neighborhood.

That’s how you found yourself seated on a couch in Tim’s living room, squeezed between the broad shouldered forms of Benny and Frankie, with other neighbors scattered around room. Tim stood in front of the small group with a dry erase marker in hand; a large whiteboard perched on a chair next to him.

“Thank you all for your interest in keeping this neighborhood safe. There have been several concerning things happening lately and I would like for us to make a collective effort in heading them off before things escalate,” Tim began.

His speech continued and the sudden vision of Scruff McGruff the Crime Dog popped into your head. You barely managed to stifle your laughter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Benny flashing Frankie an incredulous look and mouthing “Is this guy for real?”

You wondered the same thing but kept those thoughts to yourself and listened as Tim continued.

“I took the liberty of assigning teams of two and setting patrol schedules,” he said, turning to the whiteboard. The sound of the dry erase marker squeaking across the board was the only noise in the room for a solid five minutes as you all stared at Tim’s back.

This dude was intense.

Frankie’s knee started bouncing next to you, jostling the cushion a little. Smiling warmly, you reached out a hand, placing it just above his knee to get him to stop. The warmth of his skin flowed through his jeans, igniting a fire inside your belly as his wide eyes shot to you, a hesitant smile on his face as he mouthed “Sorry”.

Tim spun around and called out the pairings then, breaking the eye contact between you and Frankie. Your breath caught when he announced your name and Frankie’s as the third team. Frankie beamed at you and bumped your shoulder.

“Looks like we’re a team,” he said, dark eyes shooting to frown at Benny over your shoulder for a moment. You turned to see what Benny did, but the man just grinned and winked at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, still a little flustered from the heat bubbling in your core. Jesus, could you not think of anything witty to say?

Tim called the meeting to an end ten minutes later – thank the fucking Lord above! – and you followed Frankie outside. He and Benny basically walked you to your door just to say hi to Joshua.

Your happy fur baby bounded down the front steps to say hi the moment you opened the door, tail wagging so hard his whole booty shook with the effort.

“No jumping, Joshua!” you called with a laugh as Benny practically fell to the ground to play with him.

After getting a few pets in, Frankie left the rambunctious pup to wrestle with Benny while he moved closer to you. “He’s really just a big kid,” he said with a chuckle.

“I can see that,” you replied, meeting Frankie’s chocolate eyes as a smile spread across your lips. Damn, he was gorgeous, and you could easily get lost in those eyes.

“So, uh, looks like our first neighborhood watch shift is tomorrow night from 9 ‘til midnight,” Frankie said as you both watched the makeshift WWE match happening in your little front yard.

“Yeah, that’s past my normal bedtime so it will be your job to keep me awake,” you responded with a laugh and a shrug of the shoulders. “Sad, but true.”

“Not a night owl? Me either. I’m sure I can come up with a few ways to keep you awake,” Frankie replied boldly, though a blush crept up his neck into his face.

You shot him a mock scandalized look before collapsing into laughter. “Yeah, I’m sure you could.” After a beat, you steered the conversation back to the neighborhood watch. “What do we need to do on this shift? I’ve never been part of something like this and, to be honest, I tuned out half of what Tim droned on about.”

Frankie’s smile widened until the dimple in his cheek popped, drawing your eyes. “That guy sure could talk, huh?” When you nodded, he added, “I guess we just walk around and make sure nothing’s happening. I’ll meet you here tomorrow night with flashlights in case we need them, feel free to bring Joshua. Nothing will get past the three of us.”

True to his word, Frankie stood at the base of your walkway at five minutes to 9 pm with a backpack containing bug spray, water, snacks, and flashlights. Joshua bounded towards him the moment you opened the door – you should have known to put his leash on first, but you were just as eager as the pup to see the handsome man waiting for you.

After handing you a flashlight, Frankie gestured for Joshua’s leash, clipping it to the dog’s collar and gripping it tightly in his right hand. You let Joshua lead the way, stopping every so often so he could sniff at something interesting.

You weren’t nervous, per say, but you did have some concerns about how awkward these three hours might be. Those concerns were all for naught as conversation flowed easy and free between the two of you as you both asked and answered questions about each other.

Frankie told you a little about his time in the military and how he met Benny and his other friends. He shared about his current job working on helicopters and trying to get his pilot’s license back after some misunderstandings. You told him about ditching your old life to start fresh, how your ex turned out to be controlling and isolated you from your friends. You told him about your new job and how happy you were to be in control of your own life again.

“Sounds like that guy was a real asshole. Me and the boys could go kick his ass for you, if you wanted.”

You appreciated the offer but turned it down. Instead, you asked about his love life. “You mean my complete lack of one?” Frankie replied teasingly.

“Hmmm,” you hummed distractedly. Something seemed off about Stella’s front garden. Your eyes narrowed, searching the shadows from the streetlights and Frankie followed your gaze, brows furrowed.

“That wasn’t like that when we passed by on our last lap,” he said as you both took in the destruction. Potted plants toppled over, some clay pots shattered, leaves ripped from shrubs, flowers crushed, and sporadic holes dug in the topsoil.

In a word, it was a mess.

“No, it most definitely was not,” you replied and immediately glanced around searching for the culprit. The street was empty save for the two of you. “I don’t see anyone. Whoever did this is hiding or long gone.”

“We better write this down in our notepad for Tim. He’ll want full documentation, so we can’t leave out a single detail.” Frankie pulled the small, spiral bound notepad and a pen from the front pocket of his backpack, handing them to you. At your raised brow, he shrugged with a boyish grin and added, “I’m holding a flashlight and your dog’s leash. Besides, you probably have much neater handwriting.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Rolling your eyes, you accepted the items and flipped the notepad open to the first page. Noting the date, time, and location, you wrote a few notes about the destruction in Stella’s garden. After a moment, you pulled your phone from your back pocket and snapped a few pictures. Tim would appreciate the effort.

“You think I’m cute?” Frankie teased once you finished, sounding pleased as punch at the idea. You ignored him.

The rest of the night passed with no further incidents, and you waved to Frankie as he walked back to his house after handing you Joshua’s leash. Despite the exhaustion plaguing your body, your mind fixated on thoughts of Frankie for two more hours before you finally fell asleep with Joshua snuggled against your side.

Things only got stranger the next two nights you patrolled the neighborhood with Frankie.

“So, what do you do for fun, Frankie?” you asked, making conversation as you walked along the sidewalk.

“The usual, I guess. Hanging with friends, listening to music, playing the occasional video game, and having a few beers. Mostly just hang with the boys and reminisce about the old service days. Oh! And flying, of course. Can’t wait to get my license reinstated.” Frankie ran a hand along the back of his neck, a little embarrassed about how boring he sounded. “How about you?”

“Oh, you know, the same stuff,” you laughed. “I lead a very exciting life. I read, lounge on the couch watching reality tv shows, run in the mornings. Stuff all the cool kids do.”

“We’re an exciting pair, huh?”

“It only goes downhill from here.”

You bantered back and forth as you worked your way through the neighborhood, keeping an eye out for signs of mischief. Frankie was the first to spot the trouble in the mail area. A few mailboxes were wrenched open with envelopes and magazines ripped and scattered across the ground. Joshua sniffed at them unhelpfully.

“How’d someone even get these open?” you questioned. “They need a key.”

Frankie shrugged. “Must’ve pried them open with something. Wouldn’t be too hard, actually. These aren’t the best locking mechanisms. Here, write it down while I take some pictures.” He fished the notepad from the backpack and handed it to you, snapping photos of the mess while you jotted down observations.

“How long have you lived here?” you asked Frankie once you tidied up the mess into a small pile for the other residents to sort through in the morning.

“A few years. You?” He froze, realizing the stupidity of the question, and grimaced. “I clearly have foot in mouth disease. Forget I said that. Please.”

Waving him off with a chuckle, you told him not to fret. “Have you noticed anything like these shenanigans happening before?”

Silent for a few moments, Frankie thought about it. “Not that I recall, but I’m not too sure I paid much attention.”

“It’s weird though, right? Like all of this seems like something a couple of middle school kids would do but they wouldn’t be out this late. Shit, I haven’t even seen kids that age in this neighborhood.”

Frankie nodded. “Come to think of it, we haven’t seen any footprints or litter either. Kids always leave a mess, right? Like candy wrappers and soda cans and shit.”

The next night, things got more bizarre. Joshua stayed at home, exhausted after visiting the vet that afternoon and getting a few shots, leaving you and Frankie on your own.

Frankie spotted a light on in the detached single-car garage at Kara and Matt’s house after a few laps through the neighborhood. Both of you swore the light had been off the other times you passed by. It wouldn’t be so odd if it was a weekend night. But you knew the couple got up really early for work and there was no way one of them would be tinkering in the garage after 11 pm on a worknight.

The pair of you approached the garage warily, sounds of rummaging and glass breaking coming from inside the wooden structure. You looked to Frankie for direction. He gestured for you to stay put a couple yards back, shrugging the backpack from his shoulders, and pulled a handgun from the front pocket.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. “What are you gonna do with that?” you whispered as he handed you the bag.

“Nothing unless I have to,” Frankie replied quietly and edged closer to the garage. He crept up to the garage door, trying to peek through the dirt smudged windows, but it was impossible to see anything. Instead, he slowly made his way around toward the side of the garage.

A few steps from the corner, his foot caught on a stray cinderblock, causing him to trip with a yelp. The sound within the garage ceased, immediately followed by a scramble and rustling in the wooded area behind the garage. By the time Frankie righted himself and turned the corner, who- or whatever it had been in the garage was gone. A small window on the side of the garage sat open and Frankie peered inside, finding utter destruction within the garage.

“Well?” you inquired from your position. “Anything?”

“Nothing but a mess. I didn’t see anyone and there was nowhere for someone to hide.” He motioned you over now that it was clear. Slipping the weapon back into the bag, Frankie pulled out his phone and took photos through the window.

Gazing at the window, you said, “I can’t imagine they leave this open like this. It must be a person, right? How would an animal get a window like this open? Or turn on the light?”

Frankie shrugged. “I have no fucking clue. We should let Tim know about this. He’ll want to talk to Kara and Matt in the morning.”

Sliding the window shut, Frankie led you from the property.

“This is just getting ridiculous,” Benny muttered from the backseat. “I can’t believe that dickhead has us on a fuckin’ stakeout on a Friday night. Who died and made him Sheriff of fuckin’ Palmingham.”

“Sheriff of Palmingham,” you repeated with a guffaw. “Good one, Benny boy.”

You, Benny, and Frankie were parked at one end of the street in Frankie’s truck, with a few other neighbors stationed at the other end. A stakeout was Tim’s brilliant idea to finally catch the culprit terrorizing the otherwise quiet neighborhood. He created a few teams and stationed them at the end of the two main streets of the small neighborhood. Tim wanted the culprit caught tonight.

The first thing you learned about stakeouts was they were boring as fuck. If not for the company of two handsome men, you’d have been banging your head against the dashboard after the first fifteen minutes. After the first hour of staring through the windows, you and Frankie resorted to playing a variation of twenty questions.

“What is your favorite food?”

“To make or to order out?” you questioned. When Frankie rolled his eyes playfully, you added, “What? There’s a big difference!”

Nodding his head, Frankie laughed. “Ok, if you say so. Tell me both then.”

Sitting back in your seat, you tapped your chin with a finger. “Salmon to cook and beef wellington or scallops to order out. What about you?”

Benny watched from the backseat as the two of you went on and on. “For fuck’s sake, I feel like a third wheel on a first date,” he complained. “Will you just ask her out already?”

“Damnit, Benny,” Frankie growled. Enjoying the conversation with you so much, he almost forgot his friend was even there.

“You want some cheese to go with that whine, Ben Ben?” you teased. “I know little girls who whine less than you.”

“You want some cheese with that whine,” Benny mocked in a high-pitched voice. Leaning forward in his seat, Benny perched his chin on the back of the front bench seat, a shit-eating grin playing across his lips. “You know, if you like Salmon for the omega 3 fatty acids, my boy Fish here has some mega D fatty acid for you. It’s a lot better, or so I’ve heard.”

“What the fuck, Benny?!” Frankie exclaimed as your mouth dropped open in shocked amusement. He glared over his shoulder at the younger man before looking at you with dark, pleading eyes. “Please ignore this fucking idiot.”

“Come on, man. That shit was funny!” Benny insisted, broad shoulders shaking with laughter.

You patted Frankie’s thigh reassuringly. “I mean, it is pretty freaking hilarious, I’ll give him that. And Fish? Is that your nickname or something?”

“At least your girl has a sense of humor.” Benny slumped back in his seat at Frankie’s scowl.

Still staring down his friend in the rearview mirror, Frankie explained the call signs from their army days. Movement down the block drew his attention mid-sentence and he drifted to a stop. “Can you guys see that?”

You reached for the binoculars sitting on the dash, raising them to your eyes to peer into the distance. Something darted from the shadows into an area of the street brightened by a streetlight, and you gasped.

 “It’s a fucking monkey!”

The rest of the night turned into a shitshow as the three of you chased a small monkey – a capuchin, you guessed – around the neighborhood. After a quick call to Tim, the other neighbors on stakeout joined you in the effort to capture the mischievous little bugger. Shortly before dawn, someone found the monkey asleep on a low-hanging tree limb and scooped the thing up, quickly containing him in a travel pet crate.

Exhausted yet exhilarated, you walked toward your house when a sudden commotion sounded a couple doors down. Ann and John rushed from their home, frantically searching for something in the yard.

“Where could he have gone?” Ann called out to John.

“How did he even get out?” John yelled back, moving to search the backyard.

Pausing mid-step, you turned toward where Frankie stood talking to Tim. The capuchin monkey sat in a pet crate at the former cop’s feet as they talked about what to do with it. Eyes narrowing, you looked back at the older couple scouring their yard.

The pieces clicked into place, and you rushed over to Frankie. “Hey, uh, I think this little cutie belongs to Ann and John,” you said, pointing over your shoulder. “They’re searching for a missing pet, and it seems awfully coincidental.”

Sure enough, the older couple were searching for the little monkey named Cosmo, who they were pet sitting for their grandson. The little rascal had been sneaking out each night to wreak havoc on the neighborhood out of boredom. Cosmo was used to a much higher level of activity than the older couple could offer. Thankfully, the grandson was coming later that day to take Cosmo home.

“Hey, you wanna come over for some brunch?” you asked Frankie once all the drama wrapped up, not wanting to part from him just yet. You really enjoyed his company and wanted to get to know him even more. “I’m thinking pancakes and mimosas. What do you think?”

“I, uh, think that sounds like a perfect first date,” he replied with a shy smile, one hand lifting his cap as the other combed through his curls.

“Oh yeah? I think this might count as a third date given all the time we’ve spent alone together this week.”

Frankie’s lips spread until his smile split his face and his dark eyes burned with want. “Third date, huh? Do you have a rule about third dates?”

“Why don’t you come in and find out?” Grasping his large hand in yours, you led him inside.

[zepskies]

Strong as Blood - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, and a smutty ending. 

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 1: “Probably Temporary”

Make no mistake. Ben was still a terrible cook.

He’d sort of gotten the hang of the grill though, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to be smoking meat on the apartment’s second-floor balcony. 

You peeked out at your boyfriend through the sliding glass door to make sure he was still doing okay. He caught you though, and shot you a wink.

He was very proud of his grill. 

We’re so gonna get in trouble with the homeowner’s association, you thought, but you couldn’t help a smile. You obliged him when he beckoned you over, and you slid the door open. 

“Almost done? I think our neighbors are going to complain again,” you said with a laugh. Ben rolled his eyes.

“It’s a bit of smoke, not a fucking forest fire,” he groused. “Let those uppity fucks complain. Bet’cha they won’t have the balls to say shit to my face if I go across the street for a little visit.” 

You soothed him with a hand along his shoulder. It also gave you an excuse to check on his progress. You considered this episode to be a success, considering the balcony wasn’t up in flames this time. And the steaks actually looked good. Not brittle pieces of charcoal, but not raw and bleeding either.  

“I think those are done,” you advised. Ben followed your gaze and nodded. He used his bare hands to turn the foil-wrapped potatoes, just because he could. 

“Why don’t you take ‘em in while I finish up these potatoes,” he said. “How’s the rest coming?”

“Good. I’m about to take the casserole out of the oven,” you said with a nod. Meanwhile, he placed the steaks in a glass dish that been sitting near the open grill. He handed it to you, but you almost dropped the steaks when the hot glass burned your hands. 

You hissed in pain, while Ben caught the dish with both hands. His brows furrowed, first in surprise, then in thinly veiled concern when he looked over at you. He reached out for your shoulder. 

“Damn,” he said. “Didn’t seem that hot…you okay?”

You looked up from your stinging hands and sighed at him in exasperation, but you couldn’t get that mad at him. He sometimes couldn’t gauge things like this when it came to what he could handle, versus what your normal human body could. 

“Yeah. I’ll just break out the aloe. First, let me get some oven mitts,” you replied, but your answering smile retained some good humor. Ben quirked an apologetic smile of his own. He decided to follow you into the kitchen, taking the steaks in himself. 

You grabbed your favorite green oven mitts and carefully took out the veggie casserole. It smelled delicious, but Ben still peered at it over your shoulder when you placed it on the counter. 

“Don’t you look at my casserole sideways,” you quipped. “You need to eat more veggies.”

He leveled you with a dry look. “You saying I’m getting out of shape?”

“God forbid,” you gasped, playfully jabbing at his firm abs with a mitt-covered hand. “I’m just saying, your super metabolism is compensating for a lot of booze and Taco Bell.”

Ben rose a brow at your cheekiness. He drew closer behind you, trapping you against the counter with one hand braced on the edge, and the other sliding up your jean-clad hip. 

“You’ve got some nerve. I don’t talk shit about the stash of Twix bars in your nightstand, do I?” he remarked. He nipped at your ear, making you flinch and giggle. His beard was also tickling your neck. 

“You’re peeping in my nightstand now? How dare you,” you teased. He snorted in response. 

“Please. Your purple vibrator isn’t exactly a fucking mystery to me,” he retorted. You felt his smirk growing against your neck. “Might wanna keep it away from the chocolate though. That could get messy…unless you want it to be.” 

Your body shook with the effort of containing your laughter. He was so fucking gross.

“Don’t you need to check on the potatoes?” you asked. “I don’t want to have to pressure wash the balcony again.”

Ben made a sound of agreement, but was sure to swat you on the ass before he went. You jolted, but you just shook your head with a blush and a smile. 

It had been over a year since you and Ben had moved in together. Already you’d had your first fight as a true couple, your first Christmas, and so many other challenges, large and small, that had all come to solidify one thing for you.

You were happy. Maybe for the first time in your life. 

It just came with some…small caveats, you reflected, as you reached into the fridge to find the jar of aloe vera. Before you slathered some onto your hands, you realized they were no longer red, and they didn’t even sting anymore.

“What the hell?” you muttered. You put back the jar and rested a hand on your hip. 

Well, maybe you hadn’t burned yourself as bad as you thought. 

With that oddity still in your mind, you pulled on your oven mitts again and took up the casserole with the intention of bringing it to the dining table. Admittedly, you were a bit distracted. You didn’t remember about the raised ledge in the doorway to the dining room until it was too late.

You tripped, and though you managed to make it to the table, you gasped when you broke right through the wood. 

The table just seemed to give up when you hit it, cracking in half, and sending you tumbling to the floor with hot casserole heaped on top. You were still stunned when Ben tore back inside. His green eyes were wide, his brows furrowed as he took in the state of you on the floor with the broken table.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, though he bent down to help you up. He checked you for injuries, but both of you found nothing. 

“I’m okay,” you said, a bit shakily. “I tripped, that’s all.”

Ben’s brows raised as he looked from you to the shards of the table. He knocked on the wood surface. 

“Cheap piece of shit. Where’d you get this thing?” he asked. 

You flickered at a smile and admitted, “IKEA.”

Ben shook his head. “We really need to broaden your palate.”

You insisted you were all right. But he insisted, without words, on checking you over again. His hands brushed down your shoulders and arms, your hands and neck.

He held your face in his hands, and he let out a deep sigh. You just smiled up at him, though inside, you were hiding a bit of worry yourself. 

That table hadn’t been cheap. It was solid pine wood. 

But Ben seemed to believe you. He also seemed a bit exasperated. 

“I should just layer you up in goddamn bubble wrap. The way you find ways to break yourself is beyond me,” he muttered. Your lips pursed. 

“I resent that—”

“I’m sure you fucking do.”

“Besides,” you said, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. “What a pain in the ass would it be to unwrap me?” 

Ben huffed, even as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist and pull you in close. 

“True,” he smirked. “You’re already a pain in the ass as it is.” 

You opened your mouth to mount an indignant protest, but he shut you up the only surefire way he knew how. His kiss was swift, deep, and left you humming into his mouth in surprise. 

But you soon pulled back, brushing a thumb along his chin. “We’ve got to clean up this mess. And…did you get the potatoes?”

Ben thought for a moment, but then his mouth firmed into a line. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and released you to run back to the grill. 

That night, you stood barefooted in your nightgown and took a moment alone in the bathroom to breathe. And to think. And to test the strength in your hands, by bending one of Ben’s metal wrenches like it was a useless paper straw. 

Okay, now you were panicking a bit. 

What the fuck? you thought. You had only ever experienced super strength when you were on V24 (which you had not taken, let alone the permanent stuff). 

But…if you thought about it, there had been one other time when you had felt this strong. And it had been when you were in the hospital, almost two years ago, after Vought Tower collapsed. You’d needed a surgery you might not have lived through. It was Ben’s actions that had saved you…after he donated his blood.

Unless he was somehow giving you transfusions without you knowing, there was only one other possibility you could think of for Ben’s DNA to somehow be in your system…

Holy shit, you thought. And you sat down on the closed toilet. Hard. Enough to dislodge a decorative dish that was perched on a shelf behind you. You gasped, but weren’t able to catch it before it hit the ground loudly. You winced and picked it up, even as you heard Ben’s steps approaching the bathroom. 

“You okay?” he asked predictably, through the closed door.

“Fine!” you said, your voice too high. You cleared your throat and tried to normalize your voice. “I’m fine, just dropped something.”

“Christ. You going for a record today?” he remarked. 

You rolled your eyes. 

A few minutes later, you finished in the bathroom and tried to act as normal as possible as you slid into bed next to your boyfriend. He was watching TV, but he glanced over at you. You knew he was silently assessing you, seeing if you were really okay. 

You gave him a smile and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. You attempted to be chaste, but he deepened it. He slid an arm around your waist and tilted his head, slipping his tongue between the seam of your lips. 

You welcomed him at first…but a tremor of warning flashed in your mind, along with the persistent thought that had followed you from the bathroom.

Should I tell him? 

You didn’t know why your inclination was to hold it in. There very well could be something wrong with you. But if your suspicions were true, then you wanted confirmation first. 

“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. He’d pulled back, sensing your distraction. You came back to yourself.

“Nothing, just tired,” you said, stroking his chest over his shirt. 

Ben looked into your eyes, his face more or less stoic. You saw the way he was trying to get a read on you though, like he didn’t quite believe you. You couldn’t blame him, but you could be very convincing when you needed to be.

He eventually nodded, letting you turn away from him to slip under the covers. Even though you felt the sting of your lie tingling unpleasantly down your spine. 

You met Dr. Tonya Baker at her office in the Supe Affairs building. She’d been Vought’s top scientist, up until last year. After Stan Edgar’s death and the company’s collapse, the CIA recruited Dr. Baker. 

You didn’t like her. Nor did you trust her, exactly, but she had assisted Dr. Vogelbaum when Becca Butcher came to him with a unique problem. Now, Dr. Baker was the only one left with the knowledge and resources to advise you.

And she was able to confirm your suspicions. She came back with lab results while you sat up on an examining table. 

“You’re eleven weeks pregnant,” she informed you. 

Even though you’d been somewhat expecting it, suspicion and knowing were very different things. You took in a shaking breath, and through your shock, you were smiling. Happy, and even relieved.

Until Dr. Baker spoke again. 

“The super strength is probably temporary. A side effect of the fetus’s genetics. But, it’s also advantageous for you,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “This makes it much more likely that you’ll survive the birth.”

Your breath ceased at that thought, not to mention her clinical delivery. 

“Always with that delightful bedside manner, Doctor,” you quipped. All of a sudden, you were feeling lightheaded. 

Or maybe you were just freaking the fuck out. 

When you got home that evening after work, Ben watched you. 

He knew something was off with you the second you walked through the door, pale and pensive. Still, you flashed him a greeting and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes on your way to the bedroom. 

So he followed you. And the fact that you didn’t even notice, even flinched when he dropped a hand on your shoulder, told him that you were more than just distracted. The last straw was when you walked into the dresser while glancing back at him. You hissed and shook out your sandle-clad foot. 

Now, you were injury prone at the best of times, but this was a bit much, Ben thought. 

“Geez, I didn’t even hear you,” you said, trying at a chuckle. “Normally you thud around in those combat boots like an elephant. We’re lucky no one lives below us—”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ben asked. He was never one to beat around the bush. 

Your eyes widened a fraction; unease crept down your spine, but you gave him a quirk of your brow. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You fucking heard me,” he said. His gaze was hunter green, serious, and focused down on you.

“I’m fine, Ben—”

“No,” he snapped. “There’s something off with you.” 

You bit your lower lip. It seemed your boyfriend knew you better than you thought. You’d had a plan though. You had wanted to wait until you had a moment to shake off your anxiety and focus on the good when you sat him down this evening.

But you should’ve known better. Ben was remarkably impatient, even when he didn’t know what he was in for. 

And he got tired of waiting for your answer. 

He changed tactics, reaching for your arms. His grip was firm, but gentle in brushing his thumbs back and forth across your skin. His mouth was in a line, and you caught the concern hiding under his furrowed brows. 

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me?” he asked. 

You looked up into his eyes. Despite yourself, you had to smile. I’m not playing fair, you realized. 

“Okay, come ‘ere,” you said. You took his hand and led him to sit with you on the bed. Pulling his hand between both of yours into your lap, you sighed and thought about how you were going to say this. 

After a moment, you got a burst of inspiration. You held up a waiting finger to him and went into the closet to pull out one of your 25-pound hand weights. It might as well have weighed a pound, for how light it felt. You brought it back to the bed, and Ben stared back at you quizzically. 

“So…I didn’t get that table from IKEA,” you confessed. “It was solid wood, and I really did break straight through it.”

He rose a brow. “All right…”

You then showed him your newfound strength, by breaking the hand weight in half with your bare hands. His eyes widened, making you giggle a bit. You deposited both metal heads into his hands. He considered them, then you. His brows were knitting together even tighter. 

“What the hell—”

“Remember when you donated blood for me, when I was laid up in the hospital a couple years ago?” you asked. “I got your super strength for a day or two afterwards.”

Ben nodded. You had been a bit more than laid up, but semantics, he guessed. He was getting more confused by the moment. 

“Well this time, I’m told it’s also temporary…for the next seven months or so,” you said with a playful smile. 

Ben considered your words. He turned them back and forth in his head… 

Finally, his gaze flicked from yours to the broken weights in his hands. And he tossed them to the floor with a heavy thud on the hard wood. 

You giggled in earnest when he reached for your face with both hands. His eyes searched yours for any hint of a joke, his jaw tight and working. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asked. His voice was a hint unsteady. You smiled bright and covered his hands with your own as the beginnings of tears stung in your eyes. 

“Not this time,” you said. “Ben, I’m pregnant.” 

It took him a moment to register your words. You saw the moment it all finally set in, with new realization etching into his features.

Never once had you seen this man tear up. He turned his face away, but you still caught the edges of his emotion. 

You reached for his bearded cheek, turning him back to you. His eyes were red and starting to shine, even though he was fighting it. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then eased.

After a beat, his hands moved down from your face to brush down your arms, down your sides and around your frame. He pulled you into his lap, for which you went willingly into his arms. And your tears fell in earnest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You knew what this meant to him, but you still couldn’t help but prod at him.

“Are you happy?” you teased, rubbing his back. Ben huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. 

“What do you think?” he countered.  

Your hand moved down to slip under his shirt, gliding over the taut muscles in his back as they responded to your touch. You met him with a small smirk. 

“Show me,” you challenged. 

His lips quirked; that was all the encouragement he needed. Ben’s hands moved to tangle in your hair and squeeze the curve of your waist, bringing you flush against him when he kissed you. You inhaled deeply. Your nails dragged up his back, applying some pressure that made his shoulders twitch. 

You didn’t know what your newfound strength felt like to him, but for Ben, you felt solid in a way you hadn’t before. He could let go of some of his self-control and knead your hips with a force beyond bruising.

He could veer away from your lips and raze down your neck, and give your shoulder a love bite that would’ve drawn blood. Now it didn’t even break your skin. It did, however, earn him a pleased gasp. 

Maybe he’d just have to keep knocking you up, he thought. So you’d always be this strong.  

You started rucking up his shirt first, and had to push him back to even get it off him. After that, all bets were off.

It was a mad scramble to shed each other’s clothes, with Ben not being able to get away with his usual manhandling. Your smile grew, as you now had the strength to literally push back and make him work a bit harder for it.  

He smirked up at you when you managed to take him by surprise and push him back onto the bed. You’d successfully bared him for your gaze, but you still had your bra and panties on as you climbed over him and straddled his lap. 

Ben held himself up with a hand on the bed as the other slid around your waist and hooked you in. You took his face in your hands and gave him the full force of your passion.

Your lips claimed his in a devouring kiss, teeth clicking and tongues dueling for dominance. And you ground down your clothed core against his rising length, earning his groan of appreciation into your mouth.

With a flick of his wrist, your bra strap snapped off in the back. You huffed, knowing he’d probably broken the clasp.

Ah well, I’m about to need new ones soon enough.

The thought made you smile against his lips. You let him pull the bra down your arms and wherever he decided to fling it off to. You thought he might start traveling down between your breasts, as was a favorite path of his to map out.

But then, in one smooth motion Ben had you flipped over onto your back. He grinned at your yelp of surprise, but he didn’t give you a chance to recover. He latched onto your neck again, this time on the other side as he scraped his beard and teeth across your skin.

Meanwhile, you moaned encouragements in his ear while his heavy hand squeezed one of your breasts, rolled a thumb over a pert nipple. 

You trailed your hands down his chest, soothing over golden tan skin and freckles and sculpted muscle until you reached his hard length. You earned a straining grunt from your man as you teased the sensitive flesh, a thumb circling over its weeping head. 

Ben grabbed your wrist and gave you a warning look. “Can’t let me fucking concentrate, huh?”

You just grinned and took his hand instead. You dragged it down your body until you guided his fingers into your underwear, between your wet folds. 

“Ben, I need you,” you said. But your need was already in your eyes. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and deep inside, where you burned for him most. 

Ben felt it in your iron grip on his hand, now almost as strong as his own. Your legs curled up his thighs to wrap around his hips, teasing him with the soft promise between your inner thighs. So how could he do anything else but give you what you wanted? 

He teased between your folds with his fingers first. Gathering some of your wetness, he circled over your clit firmly. You whimpered as your back arched in response. 

“Gonna sing for me, baby doll?” he teased. Your breathing became more labored as his fingers continued to play with you, but you managed to offer a small smirk. 

“You gonna make me?” you asked. “Think you need to bring out the big guns for that one.”

Ben chuckled. As usual, you were being a little shit. 

So he brought you to the edge of your release, just with his fingers. You were starting to squeeze them tight with your inner walls, your moans getting more urgent. But he withdrew his digits at the last moment, leaving you panting and confused.

“What…”

He smirked down at you and wrapped his slick fingers around his cock, stroking himself a few times. You watched him with expectant, hungry eyes.  

“You want the big guns, I’ll fucking give ‘em to you,” he said. It made you huff, but you had to smile as he returned to you. He hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and slowly, torturous, he pulled them down your legs.

Those same hands then traveled back up, gliding across your skin with purpose. Your breath shallowed in anticipation.

He eventually gripped your hips, pushing your thighs up a bit farther, and you lined his cock to your entrance. Your heels dug into his ass and added a bit of force when he pushed inside you. And your moans tangled together along with your bodies.

You fairly pulsed inside, and he felt it in your inner walls wrapped so fucking tight around him. His forehead briefly fell to your shoulder. Even though you were panting for breath, you still soothed him, carding your fingers through his hair. 

Normally he’d be going off at a relentless clip by now. But Ben started slow, rolling his hips back and forth into yours at a steady rhythm that managed to take your breath away and make your toes curl.

His name fell from your lips, reverent and pleased. You felt every part of him as he plunged inside you, and it was incredibly fucking hot.  

He took a moment to meet your eyes. He gave you a grin that softened the hard edges that so often lined his face in times like this. And you realized then what was happening.

Ben didn’t do slow. Not for long anyway. But it seemed like he’d taken your challenge to heart. In fact, you had a feeling he was showing you what he couldn’t quite put into words. 

When he reached a hand to part your folds and circle two insistent finger pads around your clit, you couldn’t help but grip his arms tight enough to bruise him. Your mouth opened on a keening moan.

Combined with his deep strokes starting to brush all the right spots inside you, it had you squeezing on him from the inside as you came hard, and made it known in his ear.

“Fuck—” Ben’s brows furrowed as your release finally triggered his own. And his voice joined yours, muffling in the pillow under your head. You shuddered as he spilled deep inside you. 

Your arms came around his back and held him to you for a moment afterwards, just stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck, whatever you could reach while you both caught your breath.

Eventually, Ben’s lips found your neck. You felt the shape of his smile grow there. 

“Too bad you’re already knocked up, or that could’ve been a great way to bring in our second kid,” he remarked.

This time, it took a second for his words to click together in your mind. As soon as they did, you uttered a laugh that shook both of your frames. You swatted his ass in reproach. He smirked down at you.

“I can't with you,” you said. Though you were still giggling. “You’re just gonna have to wait for the first one to come out of the oven.” 

Ben’s smirk evened out into a grin, his face almost boyish in his glee.

“Well, what can I say, baby? You’re a damn good cook.”  

AN: 😂 Well then. What did you think of how she broke the news? And Ben's reaction to finding out he's finally going to be a dad? 🥹

But of course, it's not going to be all sunshine and roses in Part 2. The reader and Ben reveal the good news to her family, and as we all know, he's hoping for a son...

Next Time:

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Keep reading: PART 2

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92

[ficcerspam]

DCxDP - ADDITIONS AND NONFICS

Magician!Danny AU - 9.27.23*

Danny learns sleight of hand and goes through Hijinks and Shenanigans. There are some DC offshoots where Zatanna is involved, with some inevitable angst from another user.

In the Interest of Medical Attention Addition - 10.02.23*

DCxDP - Red Hood goes missing. Danny, an eldritch horror tourist, just wants to be helpful. These two things are, unfortunately, related.

De-Aged Danny Angst Addition - 10.06.23*

DCxDP - Danny, having been capture and experimented on, gets de-aged with memory loss and some...physical complications. One of the Bats finds him. Dad!Dick Grayson implied.

Booo-merang Trouble Addition - 10.10.23

DCxDP - Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and tries to find a runaway/hiding/injured Danny in Gotham.

Baby Danny vs. The Joker Additions - 10.16.23*

DCxDP - De-aged Danny in a bat onesie wreaking havoc on the Joker for Funsies, and sort of getting adopted by Jason. There are a plethora of other reblogs that aren't included in the link, but this is where I've mentally stopped the AU at (personally). Highly recommend going through them for the fanart!

Candy Crush AU Additions - 10.31.23*

DCxDP - Additions written for @long-live-astronerd-ghost-king's Candy Crush AU. Dead on Main. LOTS of other reblogs that aren't included in the link, but this is where I've mentally stopped the AU at (personally).

Lucky Rush AU Additions - 12.02.23*

DCxDP - Additions written for @virgamsysxvolumes's Lucky Rush AU. Please go read it, it's so good!!! I've also designed some stuff for this AU, but Vivi has released some official art for the AU in the masterlist too!

Dan Doesn’t Like Danny Addition - 12.27.23*

DCxDP - a short sort of Not!fic where Dan comes to rain his wrath down on Trigon and the JL for different reasons. Lil’ angsty. Twoshot.

Estranged Brothers Dick and Danny Addition - 05.06.24*

DCxDP - Mr. Haley summons Danny to act in the circus, not expecting the Grayson's to take such a shine to him. The Grayson's die and Dick is adopted by Bruce, but Danny has to stay... Oneshot.

Casseroles and Confrontations Additions - 03.10.24

DCxDP - Batman sends a few of the Batfam to Amity Park to investigate the ghost sightings. When they get there, however, Jason refuses to step into the town due to some instinctual feeling he has. Check "#casseroles and confrontations" tag for non-story lore!

NOW WITH AMAZING FANART by @animal-123-crazy

MORE CUTE FANART by @jamiethebee

(a la Thor) ANOTHER! by @leesbian42

Jason, Meet Jason Addition - 05.09.24*

DC - Snippet inspired by Fanart of Red Hood!Jason meeting Robin!Jason. Morbid humor. Artist made their own continuation, just an extra panel that’s hilarious af.

Brother Bizzaro Addition - 05.13.24*

DCxDP - Danny is reincarnated as one of Superman’s clone. He escapes with a fellow clone he names Match (Bizarro, in a Project Match Clone Tube). I write a little snippet of the two at the Gotham Library learning how to read. Highly encourage you to read the extremely abundant reblogs! 

I Had a Nightmare Addition - 05.14.24*

DCxDP - Batman enters the Batcave to find Phantom sitting at the Batcomputer. Strange, for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave. Angst. (Blood Blossoms)

Teen Titans and the Lost Boy Additions - 05.17.24*

TTxDP - "After being on the run for a long time, Danny somehow stumbles his way into the middle of a fight. This leads to him joining the Teen Titans (much to his confusion)."

Reverse Robins with a Desiree Twist Additions - 06.19.24*

DCxDP - What if Damian wished to be the eldest? What if Desiree wanders into Gotham to grant it? Instead of turning Damian older, she turns the rest of the batkids younger in reverse order. (My additions are extremely angsty, a short Damian POV and a follow up Bruce POV)

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

“Oi, I’m making that fried rice and veggie stuff you like so much.” He calls from the kitchen, the duffel bag he’d brought home with him from patrol beside the front door as he stomps to the kitchen. “Want chicken or something else as the protein?”

You laugh softly, not looking up from your phone as you remain tucked within the couch. “The egg is the protein.”

A scoff sounds closely followed by a chuckle. “Smartass.”

“Love you too.” You call back with a grin that makes him roll his eyes when he spots it.

He opens the refrigerator to grab the necessary ingredients and freezes, his brows twitching as a vein begins to appear within his temple but he speaks calmly. The leftover casserole that had been there this morning when he left was still there…meaning only one thing. “Whatcha have to eat today?”

All color drains from your face as you immediately know where this is going, the phone in your hands falling to your lap as you slowly start inching from the couch to stand. “Uhm…I had…coffee…”

His spine straightens so fast you’d think he was one of those collapsible/retractable toys that kids are playing with these days but there was no humor in his narrowed ruby eyes or expression when he turns away from the refrigerator to face you from over the bar style kitchen counter.

A chill slips down your spine when one of his brows twitches. You swallow thickly when he raises a hand and gestures to come to him with a finger. “I-is that not acceptable? No?”

“C’mere.”

“I’m not really that hungry—“

“I said c’mere!”

“I think I’m fine over here—“

“GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN NOW, DAMNIT!”

[daisychains111]

incorrect chb camper quotes but it's actually just my sister's quotebook from Twitter

Disclaimer: This post is gonna be LONG AF

Percy: "Ahh, die quieter"

Clarisse to Silena: "Do I look majestic?"

Will: "I live in America. Cultures?... casserole"

Nico: "At-home lobotomy"

Baby Nico to Clarisse: "You look like Harry Potter, You just need a scar black hair, different clothes, and to be a boy. "

Annabeth:"I don't know if I have enough sanity for 2 Holy books"

Leo: "I've seen titties before....not really in person, but yk"

Annabeth: "Do you have ears?"

Jason: "I kinda wanna work at Taco Bell"

Piper: "I've never been passive-aggressive in my life"

Will to Apollo: "There's no batteries in my butt Dad I'm not a robot"

Clarisse: "I'm not upset I don't hold grudges"

Ares to Clarisse: "I don't like your clothes it forces me to look at you"

Frank to Leo: "It's not 'drip' it's stupid"

Travis to the whole Hermes Cabin: "I'm the Rizzington bear... like Paddington bear but Rizz" (after his 1st date with Katie)

Nico: "I love Olive Garden, I wish Italians were real"

Rachel: "Come on, you guys stop trying to cockblock the view"

Katie: "If people can smoke weed in the middle of the day, then I can drink chamomile tea"

Rachel: "You don't want to piss me off I'm witewally a werewolf"

Piper about Jason: "All my friends are boys, and one just died... he would have made a great bridesmaid"

Frank: "I was doing a silly but the funny didn’t land"

Jason: "Why am I white"

Rachel: "I am not a whore, I am a celibate queen!"

Drew: "It's not the fashion statement that you think it is"

Nico about the Ares Cabin: "They're gonna call you a slur, but they're gonna be really nice about it"

Piper to Annabeth: "If we both think it, it's not bitchy"

Grover: "I'm just gonna write a paragraph or two about global warming"

Annabeth"I have like a 7th-grade reading level!!! (this is impressive when you're dyslexic)

Jason: "Dude I love yoga"

Will: "They say that Utah is the promise land"

Kayla: *explains what a text-fic is to grandparents (Apollo)*

Clarisse: "Put that on your Twitter!" *points knife at me*

Travis: "Do you eat?"

Katie: "...um yes?"

Travis: "Oh, I mean do you want to eat." (when he asked Katie out the first time)

Hazel: "That's not gonna change my heart. That's just gonna make me cry!"

Alabaster: "I wanna find someone somewhere to impregnate and then steal the baby......Where's your Twitter, that was kinda funny"

Percy about Leo: "I would spoon that man so hard"

Frank: "The closer I get to nature, the closer I get to being a werewolf"

Apollo: "I feel like Jaba the Hut"

Rachel: "It's because you ate girl dinner"

Apollo (same convo^)"I fell asleep, and I woke up, and I ate a girl dinner, and I didn't feel that good"

Percy: Don't mind me just cleaning the ocean" *hand angrily on hip*

Will to the Stolls: "Although my bellybutton was once my mouth I don't want soda in it!!"

Connor: "Look at how majestic I am"

Clarisse: *gasps* *throws uno cards* "This is communism at its finest, and I hate your life." *Is losing* "All I'm doing is humoring you now. There is no reason for me to play anymore." *throws cards* *again*

Nico: *passes out*

Will: "We need to take you to the doctor like right now."

Nico: "No fireworks are more important than my health"

Leo about Percy: "That's a pretty boy right there... if we were in prison, it's over."

Kayla when Will came out to her: "Slay motherfucker"

Annabeth: "I hope to not run over any old ladies...old men are fair game tho."

Percy: "Main characters get bullied, Jesus....yep!"

Leo: "What if I was an astronaut!!!!"

Travis: "Banana, Banana, Meatball"

Clarisse: "I am going to break your toe shut the hell up"

Katie to Connor: "I hope you get bullied in high school."

Clarisse about Leo: "This guy's a fuckin goober"

Clarisse: "What did you do to your sweatshirt? Did you get hungry?"-Grover: *sighs*

Nyssa (Hephaestus kid) to Leo: "Dont hurt me. I'm Batman!.... You better not tweet that"

Kayla to Apollo: "It's called multi-tasking Apollo! "

Apollo: "It's mother to you"

Clarisse: "I could fight God and win"

Percy: "So you wanna fight rn"

Clarisse: "No, I'm good"

Jason; "You look gang"

Leo: "What? I look gay!?!?!"

Jason: "You look straight, but nice"

Leo: "Oh... thanks!"

Apollo to Rachel"Lie, deny, cry, and for good measure be a raging slut."

Silena: "There's all kinds of nature out here"

Katie: "Live, laugh, love, low iron"

Annabeth to Piper: "Keep backing up...Cuz you have a fear of commitment

Lou Ellen to Katie: "Does your knee affect your shoe size... or are your feet just that small??"

Travis: "The amount of testosterone in me, peanuts are allergic to me!"

Leo: "I'm cracked up on feeling sexy"

Connor to the whole Hermes Cabin: "The "10" of us? our parents sp*rm pets"

Apollo about Athena: "OH gods, a single mom"

Apollo about Kayla's dad: "I cheated on myself with a man"

Malcolm about Athena: "She's a mom boogie woogie woogie"

Nico: "I cried at Chick-fil-A the other day"

Nico: "Live, laugh, lobotomy."

Drew about Thalia: "She has no friends and a dead brother."

Katie: "I wrote fanfiction on my i-pod touch"

Lacy to Leo: "Was it a tech? or was it a human?"

Will: "Live, laugh, love, tampons"

Kayla: "Die, cry, hate, condoms"

Aphrodite to Clarisse: "Do you like being a girl? You just always wear pants"

Percy: "Chill I know how to make conversations I have Rizz"

Will: "What! no! cow!"

Frank: "Fvcking knock it off seriously you guys are acting like children!!"

Travis to Lou Ellen: "Yesss pussy-pop you slayed"

Ashlyn (Hermes kid): "Chick-fil-A is mid, Taco bell is where it's at"

Percy during tlt: "You couldn't even buy a gumball with that shit (drachmas)"

Percy (same convo ^): "A quarter? You could buy a gumball with that shit"

Nico: "Your soul and your money!"

Tyson: "You've seen fishes, fishes move fast"

Leo to Frank: "What the fvck is a kilometer"

Leo making fun of Frank: "Mua ha ha ha I'm Canadian"

Percy: "Jesus didn't give up his life he gave up his weekend"

*as seen at 2am in the Apollo Cabin*

Gracie: "You're discriminating against me"

April (the token straight): "It's cuz she's gay"

Will: "We're all gay."

Nico: You don't have any slurs about you."

Leo: "No because I'm perfect"

this was fun to make lol....there will probably be a part 2 but like far in the future. if you made it this far I love you....also if you don't recognize names it's bc I deep-dived Wiki to find canon names for each cabin.

If y'all want one-shots based on these TELL ME I NEED STUFF TO WRITE ABOUT

[pilot-boi]

As a more humorous moment in the Twins AU (because GODS it needs it with all the angst Jaune will go through) can you imagine Yang's reaction to the thirsty Mom's in Atlas? Like "HEY! YOU LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE BEFORE I PUNT YOU OVER THE WALL!"

I always found that scene to be more... cringey? Like Jaune is there looking ready to run the second he can.

Not to tangent you, but it’s canon evidence like this that has always made me pissed about the Jaune harem. Boy was freaked as hell

But yeah I can’t imagine Yang taking kindly to their very forward advances on her baby brother (Yang, I'm twenty minutes older than you are)

She doesn’t threaten them with violence, she’s not V1-2 Yang anymore, but she does get into a whole defensive rant at several of them right there at the crosswalk while Jaune stands there with a casserole thinking about how great it would be to sink into the ground and die

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part seventy-three: "The Easter Sunday"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You invite your sister and your nephew over to have Easter brunch at your apartment with you and Matt.

Or Matt manages to rile you up and melt your heart in a short span of time.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: Another sweet installment for this series, featuring Matt being a teasing little shit at the beginning. You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here.

Hanging up your phone, you set it down on the counter beside the oven. “They should be here in a few minutes,” you called over your shoulder to Matt as you turned the oven light on. “They’re just a block away and–”

Matt’s warm body suddenly pressing up against the back of you cut you clean off, your breath hitching the moment his hands slid around the front of you, fingers splaying wide over your stomach. He pulled you back into him, lowering his face and rubbing his stubbled cheek along your neck as he held you from behind. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you leaned further back into him, your hands coming up to rest atop his.

“What’re you doing, Matt?” you whispered.

His head shifted until he could brush your neck with his lips as he spoke. “Trying to get the need to touch you out of my system before your sister and nephew arrive,” he replied. “Certainly can’t be doing this while they’re here,” he murmured, his right hand sliding down your body until he could palm you over your jeans.

“ Matt ,” you chided, though his name slipped out of your mouth as more of a breathy moan.

“I’ve had to behave all morning,” he complained against your neck, his nose nuzzling your skin. 

“Because I needed to get the french toast casserole into the oven and hide the eggs for Hudson,” you reminded him, forcing your eyelids back open. “And I need to make sure–”

“It’s not burning,” he whispered. 

Slowly his fingers rubbed against you over the denim of your pants and your eyelids fell closed yet again at the sensation that washed over you. Your lips were pressed tight together, trying to fight down the moan begging to escape you at the delicious, light friction of his fingers rubbing against you and the feel of his solid, warm chest pressed to your back. His face was still buried along your neck, your body very aware of his lips brushing along your skin.

“Can’t I just touch you for a minute?” he begged. “I just want to feel you.”

Hating yourself, you reluctantly reached down and grabbed his wrist before pulling his hand off of you. “No, Matty,” you told him with a sigh. “They’re going to be here soon and I don’t need to be worked up, and you probably don’t want to be sporting an erection in front of my sister and her son.”

Turning around, you saw Matt take a step back from you. He inhaled an audible, sharp breath, holding it for a long moment before he expelled it. Slowly, he nodded. “You’re right,” he said, his focus landing around your neck. “It’s not the time. I’m sorry. It’s just been a couple of days and I miss you.”

“I know,” you agreed. “But we can make up for the last couple of days later this afternoon. Let’s just try to calm down before they arrive and enjoy the Easter brunch, okay?”

He sent a smile your way as he nodded again. “Okay,” he replied. He took another step towards you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug. “Thanks for including me in for your Easter brunch,” he said.

Your arms wrapped back around him as you nervously laughed. “Don’t thank me quite yet,” you told him. “Amber isn’t too thrilled about our breakup. So she uh, might say something. Though I told her to be nice.”

Matt’s chin came to rest atop your head as you felt his shoulders sag. The hand he had resting on your lower back began soothingly rubbing back and forth.

“I sort of assumed you had told her about the breakup,” he told you. “I was an asshole. I deserve whatever she has to say.”

“Matt,” you complained, abruptly pulling away from him. “We’ve already been over this a thousand times, can you stop looking for ways to punish yourself still? I’ve already forgiven you. No one needs to be doing any guilting or feeling guilty today, okay?”

The oven beeped behind you, interrupting your conversation. You turned, releasing your hold on Matt before turning off the timer. Grabbing the oven mitts from the counter, you slipped them on before you opened the oven door, bending down and taking the french toast casserole out. The wonderful smell of cinnamon and berries instantly filled your apartment. You placed the dish on the stovetop and were slipping the oven mitts off when you heard Matt again behind you.

“You’re way too good for me,” he muttered, the dejection evident in his tone.

Eyes narrowing, you swiped the spatula from off the spoon rest and spun on your heel, pointing it threateningly at Matt. “You stop that right now, Matthew,” you warned. “I don’t care if today is a religious holiday, you knock that Catholic guilt bullshit off right now.”

A very slow, amused smile made its way onto his face as he focused on the utensil you were brandishing at him. His head canted to the side curiously before he shifted his attention back to you.

“Are you threatening me with a silicone spatula, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you answered firmly. 

“And what’re you going to do? Spank me with it?” he asked coyly, a smirk snaking its way onto his lips. He reached a hand out slowly, easily pulling it from your grip. “Or maybe you’d like me to spank you with it?” he asked, dark brows rising suggestively onto his forehead.

A thrill shot through you instantly at the thought, the smirk on Matt’s mouth growing into something smug. He took a step closer to you and your breath came in shallower. 

"You would, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" he purred. 

You couldn't deny that it sounded enjoyable for him to spank you. Didn't matter what with–his hand, the spatula, that flogger in your bottom nightstand drawer. It had been a couple of weeks now that you and Matt had been having sex again, and while it had been wonderful, incredible, orgasm-inducing sex, he had always been gentle. Every time. Not a nip to your skin or a slap to your ass. Not even his smug, dirty comments during sex. 

You missed the roughness of him, that power and strength he had on display when he tossed you on his bed or slammed you into the shower wall. Missed the way he would aggressively fuck you into the mattress with that growling rumble that tore through the room louder than your moans. Missed the way he fucked you harder and faster the more you whimpered and clawed at him. As much as you enjoyed the gentle, sweet love making, you wanted to see that pure desire again. It had been so long and the teasing flirtatious comments he made like this without the follow through were beginning to be too much.

You opened your mouth to answer but were quickly cut off by the sound of knocking at your apartment door. Matt immediately straightened, his expression shifting to something neutral as he lowered his arm. 

Well that certainly killed your opportunity to talk to Matt about how careful he'd been with you in the bedroom lately. 

Sighing, you sent Matt a serious look. "Please save whatever all that energy is," you said, waving a hand around at Matt as he grinned innocently back at you, the spatula still in his hand, "for when they have gone home. No flirty Murdock for now."

He gave you a single nod, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he murmured.

" Matt !" you gasped. 

He laughed, passing by you and setting the spatula down on the spoon rest again. With a huff and a shake of your head you turned, heading over to answer your apartment door. You unlocked it, swinging it open and jumping on the spot when Hudson practically shrieked at you.

"Happy Easter!" he shouted excitedly.

Amber sent you an apologetic smile instantly, her fingers affectionately stroking Hudson’s hair. "Huds, not so loud okay?" she told him.

Hudson began hopping up and down, a basket full of colorful plastic eggs held between both of his hands and a pair of white, fluffy bunny ears on his head. You could see a bit of chocolate smeared on his chin. That easily explained his energy levels.

"Come in," you said, waving them in. "And happy Easter, Huds. I see you had a good time at that egg hunt in the park this morning. Found some candy?"

“So much!” he answered.

Hudson darted past your legs, Amber entering your apartment after him. You swung the door shut, about to properly greet your sister, but you were cut off by a loud, shrill squeal before you got a word out. Immediately you spun around, terrified something bad had happened–like Hudson burning his hand on the casserole dish sitting on the stovetop. 

“Uncle Matt is here!” Hudson shouted.

Sighing in relief, you watched with a smile on your face as Matt stepped out of the kitchen and crouched down to Hudson’s level. Hudson bolted forward, quickly wrapping his arms around Matt’s neck. Matt’s own arms were eagerly encircling your nephew in return. Your poor heart was absolutely melting in your chest at the sight. Even out of your peripheral you saw Amber smiling at the scene unfolding.

“Hey buddy, happy Easter,” Matt greeted, a bright smile on his face. “You know, I think your aunt was telling me the Easter bunny stopped by early this morning and left a few eggs around the apartment.”

Hudson let out a loud gasp, pulling back from Matt. His head spun towards you and your sister, his eyes alight with excitement.

“Can I look for the eggs?” he asked, his excitement barely contained.

“Yes!” you encouraged him, waving your hand. “Go on! They’re scattered about the apartment, just be careful around the oven because it's hot!”

“And you know,” Matt said, rising back up to his feet as he grinned down at your nephew, “I think there was a special egg somewhere around here. Felt like a big dinosaur egg. Maybe you can find it and tell me if it is.”

Your eyes narrowed curiously at Matt. You hadn’t bought any strange eggs for Hudson to find this year, certainly nothing like that. Matt glanced over at you, shooting you a wink and then a wide smile. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, quickly realizing Matt had bought a special egg for him. 

“Can Uncle Matt help me find the eggs?” Hudson begged your sister. “Please?”

You turned, crossing your arms over your chest before shooting Amber an inquisitive brow. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Hudson had already latched onto Matt’s hand, bouncing up and down as he repeatedly begged his mom. Amber eventually rolled her eyes, shrugging a shoulder.

“Sure, Huds, as long as Matt wants to,” she answered.

“Uncle Matt,” Hudson began, turning his professional pout face up at him, “can you help me find the eggs?”

“Absolutely,” Matt answered. “Why don’t we start in the bedroom? I’m pretty sure I heard the Easter bunny in the closet this morning.”

Hudson wasted no time; he yanked Matt by the hand, dragging him down your hallway towards your bedroom. You threw a hand over your mouth, laughing at the sight of your toddler nephew pulling a large, struggling Matt behind him. Matt was clearly trying to keep up with Hudson while also trying to maintain the charade that he didn’t have extra senses to help him ‘see’ where he was going.

“It’s like he makes it impossible to stay mad at him,” Amber said once they disappeared into your room.

Your attention shifted curiously back to your sister. “Who?” you asked her. “Matt or Hudson?”

She grinned, turning to face you fully. “Both, I suppose. But I meant Matt,” she answered. “He’s too damn sweet and charming, it’s not remotely fair.”

“Well now you know how I feel,” you joked. “He’s not a bad guy though, Amber,” you continued seriously, holding her gaze. “We all make mistakes. That’s all it was. So can you just let the breakup go and trust that I have good judgment?”

She pursed her lips, eyeing you for a long moment. In the background you heard Hudson’s muffled, excited noises coming from your bedroom. He was excitedly shouting something about finding a real dinosaur egg. You could hear Matt’s deep voice in the bedroom telling him there were probably dinosaurs inside. You couldn’t control the way your heart swelled in your chest or the smile that bloomed across your face as you overheard their interaction. 

You absolutely loved that man. Flaws and all. He had such a big, kind heart full of so much love, even if he doubted how good it was himself. Someday you were determined to get him to see himself just like you could. 

A smile gradually broke through Amber’s stern expression as she slowly nodded. “Alright, fine,” she caved. “I trust you. So does that mean you’re still moving in with him when your lease is up?”

You shook your head, uncrossing your arms and making your way to the kitchen as Amber followed after you. You stopped in front of a cabinet and began pulling out plates, Amber behind you grabbing cups out of another cabinet.

“Not just yet,” you told her. “We’re giving it a few more weeks before we talk about it again.” You paused, your eyes landing on the hallway. You knew Matt was probably listening in despite him helping Hudson hunt for eggs right now. “But I want to,” you admitted. “I’m nervous about it, but I love him. And I want things to be able to uh, progress forward, you know?”

Amber shot you a sly smile, nudging your shoulder with hers as she passed you. “You thinking about marriage?” she asked.

Your eyes grew wide, your mouth suddenly going dry. Nervously you clutched the plates tighter in your hands as you made your way after your sister over to your table. This was not a conversation you wanted Matt to overhear. 

“You know, why don’t we talk about that another time?” you suggested quickly, tone rising in pitch. “Like a sister bonding night or something. Not when Matt is just literally in the other room.”

Amber rolled her eyes at you, setting down the cups one by one at your table. “It’s not like the man has super hearing,” she shot back. 

“You’d be surprised,” you muttered under your breath, placing the plates onto the table.

As you were making your way around the table setting down the plates, you spotted Hudson skipping down your hallway carrying a massive egg in one hand, his other dragging Matt behind him yet again. Your focus shifted towards Matt and the warm, knowing smile he was shooting you as he carried Hudson’s basket that was partially filled with eggs in his other hand. You flushed, aware he’d overheard that brief discussion solely based on the look on his face.

“Mom! Look!” Hudson exclaimed, holding out the egg. “It’s a dinosaur egg!”

“Wow, so it is, Huds!” Amber exclaimed, a broad smile on her face. “That was very nice of the Easter bunny.”

“Yes it was,” you agreed, placing the last plate onto your table, “he certainly deserves a nice thank you for that egg.”

Grinning, you noticed the way Matt abruptly straightened beside Hudson at your words. You bit your lip, fighting back a laugh as you began to make your way back to the kitchen for the silverware. Matt damn well knew what you were hinting at when you mentioned a nice thank you after last time.

“You know Hudson,” you continued on, feeling the weight of Matt’s attention on you as you headed to the silverware drawer, “I think there’s a few more eggs in the living room and kitchen. Why don’t you finish finding them before we sit down to have some french toast casserole?”

“Okay!” Hudson exclaimed.

You began pulling out silverware from the drawer, listening as Amber accepted the large dinosaur egg from Hudson before he once again grabbed Matt’s hand excitedly. As he began dragging Matt about the living room next, chattering loudly about what dinosaur he might find in the egg, you glanced up from the silverware drawer to spot Matt’s attention on you. Heat further crept up your cheeks when Matt flashed you a charming smile from across the room. And then he turned his attention back on your nephew, animatedly joining him in the speculation about dinosaurs in the giant egg.

Yeah, Uncle Matt was certainly getting a nice thank you when Amber and Hudson went home.

[what-marsha-eats]

[misforgotten2]

A handful of hot dogs can turn any pedestrian casserole into a feast meant for a king.

If "King" is the name of your dog.

[writingcold]

Welcome to Chapter Nine and Ten of Best Laid Plans

A/N:  I know.  Just trust me.  I have said that it will have a happy ending.  Just not yet.    

This is a complete fiction - totally made up.  I do not, nor will I ever know Jake or any member of GVF.  That said, this story is mine.  Please respect that.

Are you starting to understand the barrage of bullets that @takenbythemadness has taken while proofreading this thing for me?  Yeah.  Send her all your positive vibes and forehead kisses, please and thank you.

Content warnings: Language.  Deep depression.  Poor view of self.  Poor mindset.  Talk of adultery.  Misogynic character.  Verbal arguing.  Divorce.  Be ready for a big reveal.  It hurts.  It’s not horrible, but it hurts.  Well... maybe a little horrible.

Word count: approx. 9500

Chapter 9: May, 1990: Jake POV

     Life was a sham.  My life was less than the frail mist that hung amongst the branches of the tree that I could see out my back window.  I had sat for hours, the bottle between my fingers steadily grew lighter while my spirit grew atrophied and heavy.  She was gone.  Amanda carried everything out with her like she did not realize what she had taken from me.  And I allowed it.  Just like always.

     I stirred against my better judgment.  My vision was blurred and my body was full of ache.  A familiar hum stuck my ear from the void beyond the couch that made me want to retreat into the bottle to hide my embarrassment.

     “Dear lord, it moved,”  Josh’s voice rumbled in my ears without humor, but it also lacked malice.

     I coughed as I leaned forward, my fingers reaching for a bottle that was no longer on the table before me.  I frowned as I realized that everything before me had been cleared away leaving only a tall glass of water.  “How long have you been here?”  I asked as I oozed back into the couch.

      “Couple days.  Henry called Ronnie…”

      I grimaced as Josh ran through the line.  I had forgotten my parents were in Hawaii for an extended vacation.  I could just picture Ronnie pounding on my door, to which according to Josh, she wanted to kick my ass for not answering.  

      “But then, she got scared, so she used the key to find your nearly naked ass passed out about where you are now,”  he explained with a shiver through his shoulders.  

      I scrunched up my face as the heat of embarrassment flooded my system.  “Fuck,”  I sighed as my innards started to jiggle in protest.

      “So, she called me and I happened to have some time,”  Josh remarked as he was swiping at the counter with a disgusted look.  “Jesus, Jake, when was the last time you cleaned this kitchen?”

      I could barely hold my head up as my mouth started to flood with spit.  

     “Anyway, I’ve been covering what I can at the shop.  Sam got here yesterday and has been covering as well.  He brought Danny with him, so between Danny and Henry, all your lessons are covered for a few more days.  Dan’s heading out on tour,  so we really need to get your ass back into your shop.”

      My brain felt like toasted marshmallow and my mouth felt like it was filled with paste.  Josh continued to clean, peeking into the oven to reveal the smell of food.  He said that Ms. Ada sent a casserole - well, actually had sent many over.  One for each day of this week.  My stomach soured with the smell and produced a round of nasty burps that sent me flying to the bathroom.  I retched everything out as if all the alcohol was fleeing my system by any means possible.   I could hear Josh’s ramblings as I thought for sure my internal organs were next to exit my mouth.  I was shit.  I was lower than shit and did not deserve any kind of help in the matter.

      “Let’s get you into a shower,”  he said softly, pushing me by the shoulders to rest against the wall.

      I had no fight left in me.  I watched as he turned on the spray, holding his hand under the water just like our mom used to, even did the little toe tap as he waited.  He ordered me to take off my rags and helped me over the ridge of the bathtub.  The water was like an acid spray as it struck my skin like hot sandpaper.  I sputtered and choked as I made a show of doing what he wanted me to do while he stood protectively at the edge of the tub.  I pushed my face under, allowing the sensation of heat and clean to consume my ravaged skin.  Josh, satisfied that I was not going to fall over like an idiot, walked away for a few minutes.

      “This is clearly not about Georgia,”  he said, returning with clothes to set on the vanity.  “You danced a fucking jig when you signed those papers.  What gives?  I thought everything was going good.”

     “I can’t talk about it,”  I whispered, allowing the water to pour down and beat upon my back.

     “Bull shit,”  Josh remarked loudly.  “The last time I saw you like this was with…  god dammit.  Please don’t tell me you did something stupid and Amanda is involved.”

     The stab in my chest was brutal.  I inhaled water and sputtered through a cough before regaining my senses.  “You’ve been at the shop.  Have you seen her next door?”

     Josh stayed silent for a long time, leaving my guts to twist.  “She stopped in yesterday afternoon with treats for us from the morning poetry reading.”

     I rolled my eyes shut, fighting myself from asking if she inquired about me; wondered if she noticed my absence.  Another strangled breath as I waited for more from him.

     “I guess it makes some sense, now that I look at it,”  Josh remarked coolly.

     His words toiled in my belly as I heard him leave the bathroom for a few minutes.  The sound of the closet door opening and drawers being forced to shut matched the cogs of my thoughts.  He could not hide, however, the exasperated sound that he ground out in my room.

     “You’re the reason that poor woman looks destroyed,”  he said, his voice full of a hard edge.  “Meg and Bugger thought it was because her husband was back in town...”

     I kept completely still.  I could feel it.  The pieces were falling into place slowly, each clicking with a metallic click that I could feel happen for my twin.

     “Fuck, no, Jake,”  Josh growled, incredulous.

     I shivered despite the heat of the water and steam all around me.  “Go make a pot of coffee.  I’ll tell you everything.”

     I waited for him to argue with me right away.  Instead, I realized that he actually listened to me.  Finishing up my shower, I found that he had left a set of clean clothes for me on the vanity along with a new razor and shave cream.  It did not take long to feel human again, though my innards begged to differ.  

     Josh had the hot dish waiting on the kitchen table and the coffee was just finished brewing.  Just the smell of real subsistence made my body beg for respite.  Josh gave me a double portion along with the biggest mug of coffee, smoking a cigarette while he waited as I ate.  The food felt good in my belly, I could not lie.  

     “Okay,”  Josh remarked as I pushed my near empty plate away.  “Spill it.  What the hell have you been up to and how are you going to fix it.”

      “There is no fixing it,”  I answered, feeling the exhaustion creep over me like a monster.

     It started with a word.  Her name.  Amanda.  Followed by another word, followed by another until it was all falling out of my mouth like a wave.  Josh asked no questions, gave me no interruptions.  Just sat and listened.  When I felt my breath escape me as my shame rose, he waited.  When my face turned red and my voice curled with anger, he leaned away, but did not stop me.  He let me spill all of it onto the table between us like a demon that needed to be exorcized.  When I finally collapsed back in my chair, a cigarette between my fingers and my mouth quiet, Josh let out a long, low whistle.

     “Damn, Jake,”  he whispered, his face full of emotions.  “That’s more than… a lot.”

     I rubbed a hand across my face.  It was not all of it.  I took a long, deep drag before stretching my neck.  “And all of it is because of a lie.”

     His brows furrowed as he picked up my dishes and moved to deposit them in the sink before refilling our cups.  “How’s that?”

     “Liam was not mine,”  I whispered.

     His face hardened.  “What the hell, Jake.  How is that true?”

     “Georgia lied.  She was already pregnant when we…”  I refused to be crass, even if it was Josh.  

     “How do you know?  Did she tell you?”

     I shook my head as my words tripped over a sob.  “She’d go off on these rants when she was really out of it.  But I got the gist of it - she pretty much said I was not his dad.”

     I felt the emotion swell and bubble until I couldn’t hold back the tears that pushed from the corners of my eyes.  I swiped at them as Josh sat back down before me.  His eyes were full of love and compassion as his hands reached for my shoulders.

     “You are that little boy’s dad.  Do you hear me?”  he said, voice full of tears, the same as my own.  “You loved him.  We all did.  We all wanted him to stay.  Jake, I’ve never seen you so full of life as I had when I saw you holding him.  Your boy.”

     I was nodding as we cried together.  My heart wept daily for Liam.  Just because he was not of me did not mean he was not mine.  I knew this.  It was a burden that was carried for so long already.  To be able to share the burden with Josh was a relief.  

     “Do you think Mandy will leave her husband?”  he asked after a long silence.

     I shrugged.  The beauty of my previous week lay as toxic sludge in my chest.  For her to walk out, I understood.  It took me a while to figure it out - she was leaving me so as not to allow Roger the satisfaction of throwing me into her face.  If she left him, she could have no mar to find that would allow him to have an advantage.  I got it.  I understood it.  But goddamn to have our brief time twisted into something wrong shoved me into a hole that I was struggling to climb out of.  

     Josh folded his arms with a troubled look.  “It won’t be an instant remedy, Jake.  If Mandy leaves her husband, their assets are more than what you and Georgia contended with.  Roger doesn’t seem like the kind of man that is going to be amicable no matter what situation he was caught in.  Mandy could lose her Sparrow.”

      I felt the line of my mouth harden as my teeth mashed together.  “Motherfucker,”  I grumbled.  “I didn’t think about it.  Fuck.”

      Josh’s expression told me he was already miles ahead of me.  He began to tap the table with thought.  “You’re going to have to keep your distance, Jake.  For her.  During all of this - you’re going to have to keep your distance.”

     I kept my mouth shut for I knew something stupid would fall out if I said anything.  All I could do was shake my head ‘no’.  My teeth buried themself into my lip as if I was an angry toddler ready to drop a fit.  

     “I mean it.  You keep your distance.”  

     I was back to the shop the next morning, my shell back in place despite it feeling like it was two sizes too big.  Bugger was on shift, his eyes watching me like I was going to either explode or evaporate into the fog.  I had closed myself into one of the practice rooms with one of the new acoustics that we had gotten in to give it a spin.  I heard movement on the other side of the shared wall.  I imagined that it was Mandy, setting up for the Tuesday brunch crew.  I smiled as I landed on “It Hurt Me Too” by Hound Dog Taylor, my fingers digging into the frets in hopes that she would hear me.  I added in all my loud flourishes and soft touches until drawing into “These Arms of Mine”.  I just needed her to know we were okay.  That we would survive.  

     I was in my office when I heard the buzz of the door chime and Bugger’s voice flowing through the shop.  I stood up when I realized it was not just a customer that he was talking to.  Stepping beyond my door to find Mandy handing him the leftover treats  from her group with a shy smile made my chest tighten.  Josh was right, she was not out in the world like everything was fine.  She had not noticed that I was there, so I took the time to collect myself and keep Josh’s sentiment of keeping my distance in my thoughts.

      “Glad to see you back, Jake,”  she said with a wave.  “Feeling better?”

      I nodded, playing along.  “Yeah.  Much better.”

     “Josh stopped in earlier on his way out to your parents,”  she replied as she watched Bugger make off with double brownies, chocolate chip cookies and Bailey bars.  “It was nice to get a chance to catch up with him.  Sounds like he’s got a huge project coming up.”

      She was keeping to safe talk, though her eyes kept traveling to mine with a threat of tears.  I wanted to reach out to her.  I wanted to tug her into my office and hold her until it was better for us both.  I could only hope that she could see the broken heart that was within me.  We continued to chat for moments only before I saw the quiver in her lip.  I sucked in a breath knowing that I was about to lose my composure.

      “I’ve got a call I need to get to,”  I said, glancing back to wherever Bugger had dragged the food away to.  “Are we up for coffee tomorrow?”

      She swallowed and nodded.  “See you before open?”

     “I’ll be there.”

      Routine was my saving grace in my life with Georgia.  It could be once again through whatever the hell it was that we had moved into between me and Mandy.  I could set a routine and keep to it if it meant that we could share a space.  If we could share a love.

Amanda POV

     When I left Jake’s house, I made it to the bottom stair of my building before I had to sit down.  It was like all my breath, all my blood, all my fight had been leached out of my skin.  I left my entire being with him in hopes that he would use it to keep himself strong.  I left nothing for myself.  My body was racked with sobs so painful I thought for sure I would disappear into the ground.  

      Instead, my cries softened.  My pain sunk deep within.  A single word stuck me - yet.  I could not be Jake’s - yet.  I could not openly love him - yet.  I could not show the strength that he imbibed into my flesh over the week - yet.  I tucked the three letter word into my spirit and branded it in my mind.  Something so small could be just the armor that I was going to need for the fight that was to come.

     Monday morning thankfully was quiet.  In the evening, over a lovely cup of tea, I started to put all of Roger's clothes, neatly folded, into a large shipping box.  His personal items, the bank and credit cards, all the important papers between us went into the singular box.  I took down all the pictures of him and us together and emptied out the frames, leaving the photos on the table.  I scoured the apartment, erasing any evidence of Jake’s presence from both the physical space and myself.  I hid away my feelings - both the hurt and the love.

      Though I was half of myself, I forced myself to move.  I forced myself to do what I expected of myself.  I was in the shop for each group and customer.  I presented my smile and professional self, all the while, my spirit was weeping.  I noticed that Jake was not next door.  My concern, however, had to be buried with everything else.

      Thursday rolled around.  The morning’s poetry reading thankfully went quietly.  I took the leftover danish into Martin’s, moreso as a way to see Jake, but to my surprise, Josh was manning the counter.  I caught sight of Mr. Henry in one of the practice rooms with a client.

      “Amanda,”  Josh said warmly as Bugger practically ran him over to grab the tray I held.  “It’s good to see you.”

      “I - I’m sorry, Josh.  I wasn’t expecting you to be here,”  I said, my eyes scanning for any sign of Jake.  

      “That’s okay.  Jake’s been sick,”  he said quickly, his hand coming down on my arm with a comforting pat.  

      I could not hide the urgency in my body as his words stuck my ears.  “He’s okay, right?  I mean, nothing serious?”

      “Just a bad bug.  I’ll have him back on his feet soon,”  he said with a flash of a smile.  “You doing all right there?”

      “Oh,”  I squeaked out.  “Yeah.  Just.  Rough day.  I better get back.”

      At that point, I notice that both Bugger and Meg are watching me from the counter.  I waved and headed out, hoping to god to regain my composure.  Jake.  Sick.  It had put a crack into my composure.  I needed to fill it with concrete.  I needed to shut off the worry and just…

      When I returned to the shop, I noticed that Mick was looking confused at the counter.  “You all right?”

     He nodded as he cleared his throat.  “Uh, Roger just told me that you are head upstairs.”

     “Mick,”  I said, moving directly in front of him, “what did he say exactly?”

     He grew even more uncomfortable, unable to meet my eyes.  “He told me to tell that bitch to get her fat ass upstairs.”

     Involuntarily, my lips rolled between my teeth.  The embarrassment on the man’s face was hurtful.  I reached out and touched his arm, just a brush of fingers.  “Thank you.  I’m sorry he did that.”

     “I don’t think you should go.  He was really angry,”  he said quietly.

     I nod before I place one pat on the counter between us.  “It’ll be fine.  Really.”

     I did not allow the blaze of my anger show as I smiled and headed for the back door.  I took a moment to notice that at least no one else was in the shop to hear what was to come.  I walked the steps, noticing that the door was ajar.  He had found what I had done.  I could hear movement, but could not discern what he was doing.  One more breath.  One more thought of…

     I pushed the door open to find that he was pulling everything out of the box that I had so neatly packed for him.  His eyes flashed at me with absolute fury.  I leaned against the doorframe with no intent of closing the door.

     “What the fuck is this, Amanda?”  he raged, digging out his clothes.

     “Your things.  I got them ready to go to your home.  Your home with Lydia,”  I said, keeping my tone level and calm.  

     He straightened.  His eyes darkened with threat.  “Get in here and close the damn door.”

    “No,”  I said, making sure to keep my body still.  “I should tell you that my employee downstairs will be contacting the sheriff’s office if this gets out of control.”

     It was not a lie.  The way I left Mick, I knew that he would be on alert.  I realized that I felt strong.  I felt strong in this man’s presence that had made me feel like I was only part of his shadow.  I folded my arms across my chest and decided to remain right where I was.

     “This is ridiculous.  Get in here and get my shit back to where it belongs,”  he said sharply.

     “No.  You will be removing your stuff and getting out of my apartment.  You are not welcomed here.”

     A flash of memory.  A flash of Jake and I laughing across the kitchen table that all of his stuff was cluttering up.  A warmth filled me like I was finally moving in the direction I was always supposed to be moving in.  I just needed to trudge through this maze, this obstacle course that was stretching out before me and Jake would be waiting for me on the other side.  The prize that I so dearly wanted.

     “If you think you can leave me -”

     “I’ve contacted a lawyer, Roger.  This - this bull shit of a marriage is over.  I’m done.”

     “You can’t be serious.  Mandy - that girl you talked to was lying.  I don’t know this - “

     “I’m not an idiot, Roger.  I will not be treated that way.  Not by you, not by anyone.  You have made it abundantly clear that you hate it here.  You don’t like my shop.  You don’t like my life being here.  This is where I am and where I need to be.  I’m done.  I’m done with you playing my husband for thirty days of the year.”

      His mouth twisted as he stared at me.  “So I’m right, then.  You’re already fucking someone else.”

      “No.  Not that it matters, Roger.  You have never been faithful.  Our entire marriage-”

      “I’m a man.  I’m on the road.  I have needs, Amanda.”

      “You had a wife at home to provide for those needs.  You chose to do otherwise.  You chose this path.  And I’m done walking it.”

      “Don’t think that I’m going to make this easy.”  

      I shrugged.  

     “Don’t think I won’t take this place from you, you bitch.  When I’m done, you’ll have nothing.”

      I shrugged.  It wasn’t my job to make him aware that it was not mine.  It was in a family trust that belonged to my family.  Protected.  I had scoffed when my father suggested this step, and then my lawyer backed it up.  I thought it was an unnecessary step.  And yet, I did it because a tiny voice said what would be the harm of taking that advice.  What wasn’t protected, I was quickly finding I did not care.  My lack of emotional response only infuriated him more.  I forced myself to keep cool.  I continued to keep my distance.  Little snippets of my interlude with Jake played behind my eyelids.  The loud laughter, the softest of touches.  It was like he refueled my skin, and recast my armor.  I could do this. I could survive this fire that the man before me would cause.

      But then I returned to the minutes before.  Jake was sick.  My heart constricted as I silently watched Roger shove the items removed back into the box carelessly.  I offered to ship the box wherever he needed me to, to which he just glared at me.  I was going to have to have a long conversation with my parents.  I was going to have to talk with my sisters.  My brain was making lists of what I needed to do, and yet, my heart wanted nothing more than to go to Jake.  

      Roger nearly threw the box over the railing as he huffed down the stairs.  I followed at a distance.  Before he could open the backdoor to the store, I stopped him.

     “The key.  I will be needing that key back,”  I said, keeping my voice void of feeling.

     I watched as he yanked the keys from his pocket and threw them at me with intent.  I let them fly past and he bumbled through the store.  Poor Mick was standing with a customer in the mystery section, his face blanching of color.  I caught his eye before I went behind the counter to fetch the yellow pages.  A quick call to Mr. Peterson, and I was on the schedule to have all the locks of the building changed before the end of store hours.  

      I was on my way.  I had finally been strong enough to take those steps that would allow me to grow my broken wings back.  I apologized to the two pairs of eyes that watched me before I excused myself with the promise to be back after lunch.  I grabbed the discarded keys on my way back into the apartment.  I closed the door behind me to just take a moment to digest what I had done.  Echoes of Jake continued to pull me through the minutes bobbing through the wake of Roger’s departure.  The memory of him shoving the couch to the side so we could dance stupidly and fall against each other in a moment of heat and passion made me calm. 

      I put the kettle on with a smile.  I breathed out an embarrassed laugh as the next thought struck: Jake setting us up with coffee and pancakes when I had been so thoroughly fucked into the matress that I couldn’t move without laughing hysterically.  Yeah, he had been proud of himself that morning.  He was humming Cheap Trick and the swagger was oh so real.  

      Friday arrived and life continued.  Jake was still not in his shop, but neither was Josh.  Mr. Henry waved and accepted the coffee that I had brought.  Sam waved from behind the counter as he was talking with Bugger.  Sparrow was busy that day and just when I thought it wouldn’t get busier, it did.  It was all right though - it made the day go that much quicker.  

      Saturday morning there was a tap on my door, well before it was time for the store to open.  I was surprised to find Josh on my stoop, waiting with a warmth plastered to his mouth and concern etched in his eyes.

     “I brought breakfast,”  he said, holding up a little pastry bag from Blaine’s.  “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

     “I happen to have coffee, come on in,”  I said after a few beats.  “You’ll have to excuse my mess…  Been a little crazy around here.”

     He barely glanced around as he took the seat at the table I pointed to.  “It’s quite lovely up here isn’t it?  It’s very calming.”  He paused, his eyes tracing over the shared wall of Martin’s Music.  His eyes rolled closed as he chuckled.  “Probably not so calming when there’s a band up here though, is it?”

     “Your brother is very strict about the schedule.  Of course, that didn’t happen until I threatened to kick his ass after the first time I was in here with some garage band with way too loud amps and way too late,”  I laughed as I sat down with him.  “Of course, he might have just been afraid of the Siouxsie Sioux  t-shirt and bed head.”

     I was graced by one of his infamous belly laughs that set the air between us to a comfortable level.  He set out fresh apple turnovers before me with a grin.  The fact that he remembered warmed me.  We had had breakfast way before I left for college and the three of us just about turned ourselves inside out on these down at the diner.  I believe we cleared the case and Cindy just obliged to keep them out of her own mouth.  He took the first bite, letting out a groan of delight.

      “Lord, I’d be like three hundred pounds if I still lived here,”  he complained through a mouthful of apple.  

     “Well, there is a reason why these are only available once a week now,”  I pointed out.  I took my own bite and breathed through the amazingness of the pastry.  I knew he was stalling.  Totally not a Josh move.  A sip of coffee, a bite into my lip and I sat back in my chair.  “Is he okay?”

     He shrugged.  “He’s not sick.  I’m sorry I lied, but it’s our cover story.”

     “I thought as much.”  But that was a lie.  I was scared.  Jake never missed a day.  “Well.  I had hoped, really.”

     He gave me a sideways stretch of a smile.  “I’m worried, that’s why I’m here.  There’s only two people that put my brother into this kind of tailspin - Liam and you.

     “I had to watch him fall apart with Liam.  He had made so many sacrifices for him, Mandy.  He had lost so much weight I was afraid that he was going to be ill in the worst way.  He was giving her everything and it didn’t make a difference.  But you -”

     He was shaking his head as he pushed himself back from the table.  “There are only two people that he would literally bend himself inside out to protect.  Do you understand that?  Two.  I’m worried that you are walking a road that is going to be torture for him to have to watch.  Do you understand me?”

      “What did he do?”  I whispered the words, knowing that Jake had tripped into a hole because of me.  Because of my words and actions.

      The hesitation returned.  I watched him swallow down a gulp of coffee.  “He will be fine, Mandy, that’s what is important.  I’m not going to lie though, he’s fragile.  He was finally beginning to stand on his own - truly on his own, just taking care of himself after the divorce.  It’s been good.”

     My heart tripped.  My spirit faltered.  I knew what he was asking of me before he got to the words.  I was going to have to get through this trial without Jake.  I released a burning breath as I hid behind an interested gaze.

     “I am worried.  You see where I’m going with this, Mandy?”

     I nodded.  “I was trying to figure out how…  I mean.  His friendship has been so very important.  I don’t think I can move through this without it.”

     “I am not saying to disregard him completely.  But he needs to heal more - on his own.  Just as you are going to need to, as well.  There may be a day where it is possible,”  he said with a nod.  “You two seem to always find each other.  It just may not be in the manner than you think.”

      My lips rolled into my mouth as I stifled a sob.  Josh was sure that we were wrong to be together.  He reached out and laid a hand on my arm.  A touch that was meant to be reassuring, comforting.  And it burned like hell.  I chewed the inside of my cheek as I fought again saying anything.  I knew he was right.  He was so damn right about it all.  I had had my chance.  Jake had…  

      “Accept it for what it can be, Amanda.”  Josh stood up, his touch still heavy on my arm.  “Friendship is about the only thing that is fine between you at this point.  Accept it.”

      I watched as he left, leaving my heart in shreds.  In less than thirty minutes, he had taken every stitch of strength that Jake had given me.  I breathed into my empty apartment.  I was going to have to do this without Jake.

Chapter 10: September, 1990: Jake POV

      My precious week with Mandy had been erased.  I would wake each morning haunted by the love that we had shared.  My heart would bleed out as I tried to stuff it back into my chest so that I could carry on without her as a normal human being.  I had survived the summer tourist season.  We had fallen back into our routine - I would meet her for morning coffee.  I would keep to safe talk, topics ranging from her book readings to my sponsoring the summer concerts in the park on Thursday nights.  With the Autumn Street Fair approaching, I worked on the committee to help plan and organize the event just like I had in years past.  This time, with the addition of Mandy, our time worn event got some fresh perspective.

     Josh pretty much ordered me to go out and date.  Jeanette, the sweet soul that she is, had called to invite me to dinner, but I just couldn’t.  I wasn’t shutting myself away.  My wounds were too deep to find anything but a false smile.  So, like when I was surviving my time in my marriage, and after the divorce, I fell into routine.  I woke, I worked, I slept.  It took three months just to be able to go out for beers with Bugger and Meg.  I pretended that my time that I had felt the most free never happened.  I pretended that Mandy did not reside under my skin and within my very being.  And it was killing me to have to watch her struggle.  

      I could hear the frustration she was living through.  Roger was making her life hell, fighting the divorce every step of the way.  She had grounds of infidelity.  She had grounds of neglect.  But apparently Roger was able to procure a better lawyer who was making every day a nightmare for her.  She admitted to feeling like her every move was being watched.  She was convinced that Roger’s lawyer had someone watching to record any interaction with friends, family - men, women, it did not matter.  

      By the first of October, I had begun to feel strong enough that I could stand in Mandy’s presence and still be okay.  I started to go out with Henry and Ada, Ronnie and her husband, David.  I was like the kid who was just learning how to roller skate - holding onto the wall for dear life because I was afraid to fall on my ass - again.  I started meeting for beers with a few of the soccer dads a couple of times a month.  Before I knew it, the holidays were storming through in the typical chaotic manner.  Josh and I were having a drink at Miller’s when Jeanette was walking in with a group of friends.  It was not lost on my twin that she had once again caught my attention.

      By the end of February we were dating fairly regularly - once again, not exclusive.  And it was enough.  I felt like I was returning to that person that I could be while I watched Mandy grow thin and weary of her situation.  I did all I could while remaining at my distance, to support her, to love her.

      Jeanette was kind.  Josh pointed out in our phone calls that I needed to ‘do right by that woman and make it serious’, but in truth, she was setting our boundaries.  I know.  I know, but it’s true.  She was on the same plane as my own, broken by experience and unsure if she really wanted to share that deeply with anyone.  So really, we were each other’s support system.  A way to have that human contact and interaction without the intense emotional tethers  that were required for a serious relationship.  And it was better than trying to shack up with Tessa again.  That woman… just no.

     We survived the rest of winter and the spring thaw without too much drama.  Jeanette and I were spending weekends away after discovering that we actually traveled together very well.  I felt healthy.  

      “I don’t think it’s a good idea to see you right now, Georgia,”  I had said, trying not to let my impatience show as I shuffled papers across my office desk as a way to keep my hands busy.

      Georgia had called out of the blue.  It had been years since I had heard her voice and I was fine with that.  I had moved on from what we had and healed, mostly, from our time together.  My hands came to a full stop when she fell silent and I found myself listening to her breathing across the receiver for a long moment before she continued.

     “I know you’ve heard this from me - many times, Jake,”  she said, her tone even and present.  “I’m trying.  Really trying.  I’ve been sober a full fifteen months this time.  I’ve been trying to…  I’m trying to really do it this time.”

     I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.  This was the same conversation that I had heard too many times before.  The only difference was that the hurt that once had been attached to her words was absent.  I blew out a long breath and was shaking my head like she could see my answer across the phone.

     “Jake, I need to make amends,”  she whispered.  “There are things that I need to say to you - for you to hear from me.  You owe me nothing, and I get that.  I do.  But I think if I allow myself to just-”

     “Allow yourself?  Do you hear yourself right now?  How absolutely selfish that sounds, Georgia?”  I let the words go before I thought them through.  I was once again buying into her game and I needed to just stop.

     “Sorry.  Sorry.  Really.  I don’t mean to sound selfish.”  I could hear the tears in her voice and I forced myself to soften.  “Please.  Just give me a half hour of your time.  It will be good for both of us, Jake.  Please?  I can meet you after your soccer practice at the park.  You still do that, right?”

       June first and I had my team running their asses off up and down that field starting at eight in the morning.  Each and every one of those kids loved it, too.  I had brought out the big box, booming music across the grass.  I let them pick the day’s band and I supplied the tunes.  I noticed Georgia waiting at the edge of the field.  She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking too thin as her blonde hair fluttered in the wind.  I could have been kind and wrapped up practice on time, but the kids were having too much fun, so I let it run over by nearly twenty minutes.  The parents were joining in at the end, their smiles wide as they bounced around with their children.  

     To my surprise, she waited until after I had cleaned everything up and packed the car before she moved towards me.  Her dark eyes were clear and healthy.  Her smile was honest.

     “Thank you for seeing me, Jake,”  she started, her voice even and strong.

     I nodded once, my guard up and locked tight.

     “Do you want to walk, or sit, or…”  she laughed nervously.

     “Just say what you need to, please,”  I said as I folded my arms across my chest, wary of what was to come.

     “Right to it, then,”  she said, hands sliding into her pockets as she let out a nervous laugh.  “I wronged you from the start.  I know this is going to be hard to hear, but Liam…”

     I swallowed hard.  My eyes flattened as I looked at her.  “If you’re going to tell me that Liam was not my son, Georgia, I already know.”

     She flinched.  “When did you know?”

    “I don’t know - maybe I started believing it after one of the several dozen times you begged for his ‘real daddy to stay’, or if his ‘daddy was a better man he would’ve stayed’?”  I did not attempt to hide the heat of anger that was spiking in my brain.

     “If things would have been different…  If he was still here,”  she was struggling, faltering across her words like the only thing that could save her was a drink.  I knew it.  I knew that stammer and that look of need too well.  I slowed down, she did not need to be provoked.  “If he was still here, Jake, you would’ve been his daddy no matter what.  You would’ve loved him-”

     “I love him still, Georgia!”  I shouted, all my venom leaking through my mouth with bitter accuracy.  “I was there in the hospital.  I held him.  I touched him and sang to him every moment that he was with us.  He’s with me every day.  Every day!  Do you hear me?  I talk to him, sing with him.  My son.  No matter what.”

      She wiped at her face.  I wiped at mine.  The rage was not simmering down as it normally would.  It pulsed through my veins at a dangerous pace.  I needed to walk away.  I needed to just be rid of her presence.  

     “If that’s all you have to say, I’ve got to go,”  I said, digging in my pocket for my keys.

     “Jake, stay,”  she said through her jagged breaths.  “That's not all.”

     “The fuck,”  I growled, unable to hide my emotions.

     I watched as she shored herself up while I felt my whole foundation begin to crumble beneath my feet.  Her eyes turned to the ground for a long moment like she was gathering her words.  

      “I listened to you talk about your Amanda all that night,”  she said quietly.  Too stunned, I found my chin sliding forward so my ears could hear better.  “How in love you were.  How good of a man you were.  I knew I was pregnant.  What you all didn’t see was I was in full panic that whole night.  Clint had left me the day before once he knew about the baby.  I knew I couldn’t do this alone.”

      She paused.  I felt like all my air was being wrung from my lungs as I tried to keep my focus.

     “I knew you would be the kind of man to take responsibility, Jake,”  Georgia said, her voice warbling across each syllable.  “I watched you leave the party.  You had had too much to drink.  I made sure of it.  I helped you out of your clothes and got you into bed.  We never had sex, though.  You blacked out.  It was so easy to make you think otherwise.”

     Shock would not begin to explain what happened in my system in that moment.  My world gave way as my knees buckled beneath my weight.  A sound emitted from my gut that came close to the pain of losing Liam.  It was a sound that carried the loss of a life that should have been.  It carried every ounce of dreams and hopes and wishes for a life that was concrete and real and full of love and possibilities.  A life with Amanda.

     Georgia knelt down beside me and my broken frame.  She tucked her hands in her lap.  There was shame and remorse etched across her breath for what she had done.  We cried together, but for different reasons.

     “Jake, to say I’m sorry is not enough,”  she whispered, her back bending because of the pain she had caused.  “There is no excuse other than the fact it came from a place of absolute fear.  I was so desperate-”

      “You fucking took my life,”  I mumbled.  I stared at a blade of grass as my brain tried to clutch at the devastation that had been put upon me.  “You didn’t just do this to me.  You did this to her.  You did this to hurt her.  And I was faithful.  You made me believe that I hurt her.  That I fucking broke our relationship.  I…”

      The breeze against my flaming skin did little to cool me.  Georgia sat with me as I tried to put two words together that would make a lick of sense, to make what she did okay.  But it was so wrong.  All of it.  Quiet tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and I could hear her beside me stifling sniffles.  My eyes shifted to her, honing in on the guilt that bubbled from every pore of her.  There was no fix.  There was no repair that could ever return me to my path that should have been.

     “I don’t ever want to see you again,”  I whispered, my voice void of me.  “Do not call.  Do not come back here - at all.  If you were looking for forgiveness-”

     “I was not looking for forgiveness,”  she said, her voice quivering.  “I was only looking to give you a truth that has tortured me for all this time.  Maybe give you back a piece of you that you thought I had ruined.  This is the amends that I extend to you, Jake.  Somehow a way to forgive yourself.  To-”

     “You didn’t just ruin me.  You obliterated everything.  How is that giving me back anything?”

     She blew out a soft breath.  “I said that wrong.  What I mean was that you were always a good man, Jake.  You were always good.  I know what you thought you had done to Amanda, how you thought you had broken her trust…”  She let out a fractured sob as she shook her head.  “You were always hers.  Mine sometimes.  But you were always hers, Jacob.” 

     I watched as she stood.  My body fought against my wish to rise up with her but I did.  I held my arms out to her.  It was not forgiveness.  It was acceptance.  I hugged her for a moment before letting her go.  I moved my feet towards my car and did not look back at her.  That book was closed.  It will stay closed this time. 

Amanda POV     

     If I thought that I was lonely before, I was sorely wrong.  The absolute isolation was crippling as I began my filing for divorce.  My lawyer, Mr. Upton, was very good, very empathetic.  But Roger’s lawyer, Mr. Roburn, was more expensive with more resources at his disposal.  Sparrow, of course, became the first point of contention.  Roburn argued that it was my original plan to leave Roger, hence my reasons for placing my store into a trust.  Mr. Upton, utilizing all fiscal records and legal precedence, that regardless of reasoning, the shop did not belong to me, but to my family and was not a joint asset as Roger had assumed.  Of course, then it was argued that I had used my husband’s money for the down payment of the building… 

      Back and forth.  East and West.  Round the circle once more.  Roburn’s whole strategy was to wear me down.  Mr. Upton, on the other hand, stayed in step with the correct argument that kept me protected and Sparrow in my hands.  Then came the implications that I had been unfaithful.  Pictures were presented of me having coffee with Jake, along with Mick and Robin, Bugger and Meg.  It was totally innocent of course, but it led to other pictures where I was talking just with Jake.  That was an uncomfortable conversation with Mr. Upton - one where I was not truthful.

      Jake was called into a deposition by Mr. Roburn, to which it was suggested, as well as pictures shown, that I had an ongoing relationship with him.  Jake explained that we had had a relationship over the summer of 1981 and that we were merely close friends.  He then pointed out that the pictures that were showing just me and him talking were actually just a zoomed in photo of the previous ones, in his music shop with plenty of others present.

      He had become distant.  It was fine.  It was enough that I could still share a space with him as I struggled my way through my day to day.  The nights were hard.  Too often, I tried to manifest him to be with me.  Be in my bed holding onto me so that I might not fly apart.  But he never came to me.

      I retreated.  It was all I could do.  I kept my social circle to my family only.  My parents were beside themselves and were absolutely stunned as my dirty laundry was being dragged out for everyone to see.  They let me cry about it behind their closed doors, though.  I came to realize that it was not just me that was the topic of Frankenmuth’s hot gossip tongues, but my family as well.  It was gross and wrong, but I had to just keep my head up and live through it.  I had done nothing wrong to warrant such loose tongues.

      As the weeks passed, I watched from the sidelines how Jake healed and returned to his life.  It was nice to just be friends again, to talk and laugh.  It hurt when I was out at the farmer’s market with Jenni and her little boy and I saw him with Jeanette Williams.  He did not see me.  His whole attention was on her.  At first I was anxious, my skin feeling like it had been stomped on.  But then…  I stilled and watched as he smiled at her.  Really smiled.  His whole body was relaxed and at peace.  And it was not because of me or my presence.  Jeanette had been in Ronnie’s class in school.  She always had a reputation of just being kind.  I knew she had always been well liked.  Perhaps it was something that nurtured him in his time of need without me…

     What a selfish thought it was and I knew it the moment that it struck.  I tried to move away.  To allow my nephew to tug me towards the homemade candy, but I chanced a glance back to see what had been there a year before - happy.  Jake was happy.  There was no denying what I saw because it was so lovely to see.

      The months lingered on like the calendar refused to shed its days and weeks in a timely manner.  It hurt.  Everyday there would be a call regarding this or that from Mr. Upton.  I watched as those around me seemed to move with such life.  With such pleasure.  I was rooted to my spot.  Not allowed to drift amongst the stars or through the leaves that scattered across my path.  It was truly the first time that I had no idea what my tread would look like when I emerged from this blackened tunnel that I had found myself wandering through.

      My Sparrow was my salvation.  No matter what - she was there providing my steady company and sure footed companion that continued to grow and evolve and bear fruit under my care.  I could hide amongst her books and hold up new ideas that would take on a life of their own for those who entertained such fancy things as the offerings of a soon to be divorcee’s book shop.

      Yeah.  The opinion I entertained of myself was pretty low.  I was not coping well with all the punishing gut punches that the divorce was dishing to me.  It was not like I was asking for anything other than for my marriage to be over.  I did not want his money.  Roger was very, very comfortable.  He worked hard to be so comfortable.  I did not deny that.  I had worked excruciating hours at Franklin and done well, myself.  I did not care that a portion of my funds were still residing in our joint accounts.  I would have gladly given him it all just to walk away.  During mediations, I even blurted out the fact that I wanted nothing.  I questioned why he was dragging his feet on the matter.  He had another woman.  He had not one, but two kids with her.  In the wake of the silence that followed, I excused myself with the last bit of what he had done to my body against my own wishes.  Was that not enough to wish to escape that marriage?

      August of 1991 was hot.  It was the kind of hot where you would shower, towel off and be wet before you reached the bathroom door.  It was gross and sticky and smelly and I was wishing for the weather to break.  The thunderstorms were coming like crazy, but as soon as one would bring relief, another cycle would start up.  The a/c in Sparrow was down.  I sent Mick and Robin home and hung a sign that we were too hot to function.  I had to wait a few days before I could get anyone out to actually look at the unit.  I stayed in the hotel at the other end of the street as the apartment was like a twenty four hour sauna.  I watched as my precious books were beginning to buckle under the humidity.  I had to invest in a window unit just to keep the moisture from ruining my stock.

      It was one of those weeks where I had not heard from Mr. Upton.  I was not sure if that was a good thing or not.  Perhaps it was too hot in Detroit, too, and he decided to distance himself for a respite from my idiot case.  The 14th found me on the phone once again with my a/c man in hopes that he would be there before the end of the day.  I had just crossed my fingers when the chime on my door rang out admitting Mr. Upton.

      I watched quietly as he pulled a large manilla envelope from his briefcase and held it out for me.  “You asked for nothing but the dissolution of your marriage.  He has finally given it to you.”

      The relief that rushed across my body left me breathless.  Sparrow was safe in my care.  I asked for nothing and nothing was given.  I carefully opened the sheath of papers and took the extended pen from Mr. Upton.  His kind eyes met mine for the briefest of moments before he began to point to each spot that required my signature, explaining each passage with a patience that exuded a comfort.  On the last page, the moment swelled.  I stared at Roger’s huge, elaborate strokes across the heavy paper.  He had relented.  I licked at my lips before I leaned over once more and slowly scratched my name into the paper that would untie the chain that had kept me locked in place.  

     I shook the man’s hand and watched as he loosened his tie before leaving the shop.  I looked around and absorbed the stillness.  I may have wiped a tear or two away.  My gut told me to go next door and tell Jake.  But my spirit told me to stop.  Take in the stillness a little longer.  I sat down at one of the cafe tables and just breathed.  I allowed my chest to rise and fall uninhibited.  I was free.

      Instead of telling anyone in the family, I called Mick, followed by Robin.  They agreed to take care of the shop and make sure the a/c repair was finished and assure them the bill would be paid upon arrival.  I walked up the steps to my apartment and found my bag.  Within thirty minutes, I had packed a few outfits and everything that I would need.  I jumped in my car and I left Frankenmuth - alone.

      I drove.  I took breaks at rest stops.  I stayed in shitty motels.  I had called my parents from some town west of Toronto and assured them that I was fine.  I just needed out for a few days.  It was the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done, but I drove all the way to Maine, finding a little cottage motel that I stayed in for three days, right on the ocean.  It was like all the heat, all the damage, all the injury was relieved.  I walked the beach.  I drank the sea breeze and fed on the wildness of the landscape.  I landed in the bar and got picked up by a very attractive man who said he was on his way out to sea.  Didn’t matter if it was true or not.  He fucked me sideways and made me cum hard for two damn days.

      I celebrated myself for twelve days.  I took my time getting home, taking in the first hints of the autumn as I was passing through Pennsylvania.  When I got home, I relished it.  My parents welcomed me, my sisters laughed with me.  It was two days since my arrival back and I dared to walk into Martin’s to find Jake.  I knew he had heard the news the moment he looked at me.  His smile welcomed me into a hug that my body had been screaming for for months on end.  

     And he held on.  I was sure Bugger and Meg were drifting away from just being uncomfortable, but I didn’t care.  I breathed him in and let him hold me while my trials over the past year settled into my bones and across my flesh.  It was a victory.  It was a victory worth savoring.  As he let me go though, I knew I wasn’t ready.  I looked into his face and it was a whispered agreement.  A ‘maybe’, but not yet. 

I’ll see you next Wednesday.  💚  

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[powderblueblood]

THE RONNIE ECKER MOTHERFUCKIN BREAKDOWN (fast and dirty version)

for @mopeymopeymouse and anyone else who hasn't read flight of icarus + fair warning, my ronnie is a little canon divergent probably? a touch more chaotic than what we're given in FOI anyway

so okay, here's the official backstory

ronnie is obviously no durrr a resident of forest hills trailer park who befriended eddie when they were eight years old. she moves to the trailer park after her dad passes away and her mom gets institutionalized. she lives with her granny, a woman that's hard as nails but soft in the middle (see: keeping wayne munson in turkey casseroles), a woman that loves a goddamned M*A*S*H rerun (baby don't we all).

ronnie is a lot like her granny in that way; a touch more on the goofier side of toughness, but that doesn't stop her from putting eddie munson in his place when she needs to. especially after the time in seventh grade when he'd tried to kiss her, like fucking gross dude what the fuck was that! a little noodling on that made ronnie realize she didn't have crushes the way other people had crushes. she might not even have them at all.

a little more on the official side-- she's corroded coffin's first drummer (that's right, gareth emerson, you're filling some big motherfucking shoes), she's a founding member of hellfire club and in 1984, she gets a full ride to NYU. she's tall as shit. she wears overalls and baseball caps (looking like, quoth eddie munson, 'the ghost of a tiny farmer' when she was a kid). she's ride or die. she's cool as hell. she's going places.

ronnie ecker is also scared as all hell to go places because, yeah, she's got the smarts and she might even have the nerve but does she have the wherewithal to hold it all together? she doesn't fucking know! there are a lot of nights she spends freaking out in the bathroom mirror, wondering how close of a genetic scrape her mom's mental illness is. wondering how much the fact that she's from a trailer park will help or hinder her progression in, like, the real world. wondering if she can stay upright if she makes a break from this town without her twin pillar, her brother in bullshit, eddie munson next to her. wondering, y'know. just... wondering.

she's got this facade of nerdy anxiety that drops pretty quickly once she's a) got a set of drumsticks in her hands or b) at that hellfire table or c) fucked with and then you'll see that, yeah, she is all nerve. white hot and wicked, goofy and gorgeous and cool as the moon, with a huge mouth and a stupid, dirty sense of humor.

it might be ronnie ecker vs the world. but she is gonna make it in spite of all that.

[punkpoemprose]

Double Stuffed Thanksgiving- A Kristanna Oneshot

Universe: Modern AU Rating: M (Mature) Length: 593 Words Summary: Anna promises Kristoff that she won't make any inappropriate jokes at their family's Thanksgiving dinner, and inadvertently does just that. TW: Pregnancy, sexual content & humor A/N: I wrote this specifically because of that one video about Thanksgiving Pregnancy Announcements. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzyCgNSy0RI It is NSFW, FYI

Kristoff leaned into the backseat of the car and pulled out the casserole carrier as Anna collected both of their coats from the passenger seat. It was warm enough at the moment that they didn’t need them for the short walk from the driveway to the door of his parent’s house, but on their way back out in the evening they would certainly need them. Snow was imminent any day now that November was almost over, and they were frankly lucky that they hadn’t needed to go dashing through the snow already.

Anna was downright giddy as she started up the driveway at his side. 

“Remember Anna, we have a plan.”

Anna groaned, it was a discussion that had spanned the whole ride up from their home to his parent’s place. 

“I know, I know, we have a plan. We wait until dessert and hand them the boxes, just like I said I wanted to begin with, but…”

“But you’re very excited and it’s hard to keep a secret, and you’ve come up with several jokes that range in appropriateness but ultimately spoil the whole surprise.”

Kristoff sighed, shaking his head at her pout. 

“Fine, fine, fine,” Anna replied, dropping the faux pout in exchange for a look that was entirely too mischievous for Kristoff’s taste.

“I promise I won’t walk in and say ‘Oh Mom, did you make homemade bread this year? Smells like a bun in the oven.”

“Of course you promise, that’s such an overdone joke, you would never.”

The mischief in her eyes doubled and Kristoff only realized his mistake when she squinted her eyes, put her hands on her hips, turned to face him, blocking his path to the porch, and took his teasing as a challenge that he didn’t mean to offer. 

“Oh, my jokes are overdone then. I see. Overdone kind of like if someone didn’t take their meat out of the oven?”

His face went bright red. 

“Anna.”

“I shouldn’t make any jokes about how you like your turkey stuffed, bone in?”

He thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. 

“Anna.”

“And of course no pilgrim jokes either, they’re not even historically accurate. Definitely promise not to talk about how I spent a good chunk of summer enjoying ‘the motion of the ocean’ on a finely crafted piece of European wood.”

“Anna!”

“What?” she said, dissolving into giggles, clearly proud of herself, “I promised not to…”

Anna seemed, in the moment, to realize that Kristoff’s lack of laughter had little to do with his bemusement with her teasing and everything to do with the direction of his eyes. She turned on her heel and realized, in the same horror she’d observed on Kristoff’s face, that they were not alone. 

“Oh, hi Elsa, you got here early.”

Her sister was standing on the porch, facing them, looking somewhere between surprised and traumatized. 

Elsa, to her credit, didn’t run for her car and drive off, die on the spot, or start screaming.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick… I’m not sure if it was the content of the statements, or what they mean, but either way… congratulations, please never make sex jokes in my vicinity ever again.”

Anna and Kristoff looked at one another, nodded slowly, and erupted into laughter. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Kristoff added as he got his laughter under control.

Elsa shook her head, the color returning to her cheeks and immediately causing her to go red.

“And have to explain how I know? I’d rather die.”