#RIP sienna

[tomboy014]

This one's a classic. Behold as my 7lb cat took up 5 ginormous pillows

cats have such a beautiful relationship to space. I’ve never seen an animal so small able to take up half the length of a couch simply by sitting in the least efficient spot possible

[shimmeringweedsart]

SGFW D5: Kiss|Cuddles|Hair (+ Day 6: Plushie)

If you have spent any amount of time around large hyper dogs, you've probably received a toy shoved in your face as a grab for attention. You can’t be mad at that ( ｡ •̀ ⤙ •́ ｡ ) Give that pooch a smooch and get playing.

Disclaimer: most dogs do not, in fact, like head smooches. A good relationship with the dog and respect for their body language is advised before attempting.

[idk-iposteverythingiwant]

Bad boy

Original:

[1pcii]

honestly it's amazing how sabo is like. everything I've ever wanted out of a character.

revolutionary/freedom fighter trope but is NOT demonized by the narrative for his radical beliefs/actions that are necessary to further his goal of peace because of the nature of the world he exists in. his past dosnt just exist as a half-assed attempt at adding 'nuance' (pity) to his character but directly shows where his ideals and beliefs come from and shape him as a person and it's never something that's ridiculed or downplayed. being a revolutionary is rightfully framed as the sacrifice it is for the greater good and doesnt defult-ly exist in a binary of 'good' or 'bad', but rather shows the difficult but necessary path of societal reform.

[nliast]

A fun crackship I have a lot of feelings about is not what you first this, so hear me out.

Kali/Sienna, but, Kali is also still with Ghira, she's basically mutually married to both of them post Faunus Rights Revolution. Sienna & Ghira are mostly just mutual friends/comrades with differing political views but its all very healthy and good.

Hey, I remember this was a thing on the first volumes, when Sienna and the parents™ were introduced. I always liked it, but there is no more content of them nowadays tho :/

[anothergayrobot]

Some art I made for an AU I thought up a couple months ago where Sienna, Adam, and Blake are a little family

[lugosis]

at this point i’m like kind of an expert in obscure monkees media piracy

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

sad edit but y’all i love our space kid so much

-@siennavf2021 | Sienna on Pinterest | Sienna on TikTok

[quixoti]

so. that happened.

[quincyhorst]

THE (EURO) FINAL IS ENGLAND AND SPAIN ONCE AGAIN LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Hello. This might be an unusual question to ask, but... Anyone here watching the Women's World Cup?

Personally I myself couldn't do it much (Due that the time difference is straight up garbage with my region, plus the cup was barely even promoted); BUT. I like to follow it from afar. And let me say, I'm interested on the final match.

...Let's say it right here and right now, but if Spain wins the Final match and becomes the champion, I'm willing to ruin the whole post order I had for this blog and talk about my Red Matador girls right away. I 100% mean it (?

And if Spain doesn't win, well, not everything's bad, as I'm also interested on the other side too. Maybe if England wins the World Cup, I could talk about more in detail about the KOQ Girls (Sienna and Clover, pretty much). Would any of you be interested on that?

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine | masterlist

an ongoing collection of ficlets and blurbs by writers of the eddie munson x reader fandom using the same prompt. if you wanna take a crack at it, the guidlines are here!

the boy is mine (luna's edition) by @abibliophobiaa the boy is mine (bluey's version) by @blueywrites the boy is mine (bug's edition) by @munson-blurbs the boy is mine (jo's edition) by @jo-harrington the boy is mine (gab's edition) by @vvitchwords the boy is mine (powder's version) by @powderblueblood the boy is mine (leah's edition) by @eiightysixbaby the boy is mine (taylor's version edition) by @superblysubpar the boy is mine (ziggy's edition) by @trashmouth-richie the boy is mine (roe's version) by @hellfire--cult the boy is mine (amy's edition) by @rehfan the boy is mine (dalia's edition) by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple the boy is mine (cheese's edition) by @br0ck-eddie the boy is mine (hannah's edition) by @writinginthetwilight the boy is mine (amy's edition) by @bangaveragewhitewine the boy is mine (claudia's edition) by @jamdoughnutmagician the boy is mine (v's version) by @lonelysatellites the boy is mine (red's version) by @corroded-hellfire the boy is mine (h's version) by @be-ready-when-i-say-go the boy is mine (the wheels edition) by @wheels-of-despair the boy is mine (emmy's edition) by @upsidedownwithsteve the boy is mine (kittie's edition) by @mrsjellymunson the boy is mine (rose's edition) by @rosebudsgarden the boy is mine (viv's version) by @vivwritescrappythings the boy is mine (z's edition) by @uglypastels

the boy is mine (shiv's version) by @justmyheart the boy is mine (iona's version) by @eddiethefreakkmunson the boy is mine (hope's version) by @hopeluna the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition) by @eddiessluttywaist the boy is mine (chloe's version) by @doomsdaybby the boy is mine (meg's version) by @courtingchaos the boy is mine (betty's edition) by @bettyfrommars the boy is mine (icallhimjoey's edition) by @icallhimjoey (rpf edition) the boy is mine (carol's edition) by @carolmunson the boy is mine (belle's edition) by @angelgirlworld222 the boy is mine (jade's edition) by @jadewritesficshere the boy is mine (hannah's edition) by @rip-quizilla the boy is mine (manda's version) by @manda-panda-monium-writes the boy is mine (desi's edition) by @lilmissdoomandgloomfics the boy is mine (hdyagimr's version) by @howdidyouallgetinmyroom the boy is mine (mar's edition) by @serasvictoria the boy is mine (sienna's version) by @belokhvostikova the boy is mine (call-me-eds edition) by @call-me-eds

[drewsbuzzcut]

https://www.tumblr.com/drewsbuzzcut/737096003153461248/nick-and-dallas-have-a-lot-of-morning-sex

Can we get a blurb

Love In The AM

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: SMUTT

The insistent pounding of Dallas’ bed frame hitting the wall and Nick fucking her into her mattress is enough to wake up anyone else in the girl’s apartment. Good thing Sienna is always leaving early to start her day- she’d be scarred.

Dallas is clung onto Nick, arms looped around his neck and legs haphazardly wrapped around his waist as he holds her by her hips to fuck into her with a controlled ease. Their morning usually starts like this- Nick nestled in her pink blankets and her hands wandering all over his bare chest until he wakes up to satiate her.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh my god, Nicky. I’m going to cum,” she whines, body arching up off the bed.

Her fingernails start to dig into his skin, and Nick feels the tightening of his balls as he feels his orgasm start to approach. When Dallas finally gains some control over her pleasure, she raises her body as much as she can so she can attach her lips to his neck. She sucks his skin into her mouth, nipping and licking at him until he’s whimpering just as she is.

“Cum baby. Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight and so wet. I love it,” he moans, a stray finger circling her clit, making her writhe and cry out as she finally cums around his cock.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she begs, hips meeting his movements- thrust for thrust.

He grabs her hands, pinning them down next to the pillow below her head, his hips moving at a sickening pace. She continuously flutters around his length, her cum dripping onto the bed sheets.

“Cum in me. Please, baby. I want your cum,” she releases her hands, locking them around the back of his neck as she whispers hotly in his ear. Her bare breasts press into his chest, and he can feel his sanity start to slip away.

He quickly pulls out, ripping off the condom and flipping them over so he’s on his back now.

“Uhhhh, you’re so big. I feel so full,” she whimpers when she sinks down on him, feeling his thick head prod at that spongy spot.

“If you keep squeezing me, I’m not going to last too long,” he warns her.

“I don’t care. Cum in me, baby,” she responds, rocking her hips back and forth with her hands pressed to his chest.

She knows he’s close, she can tell by the slight trembles in his body and the way he keeps tilting his head back. She grabs one of his hands, placing it on her lower abdomen, so he can feel just how full she is.

“You feel that, Nicky? That’s your big cock making me feel so full. Now, I just need your hot cum filling me up, marking me as yours. I’m yours, always, but just think about the way I’ll be dripping. When you’re at practice, I’ll be here in bed, in your shirt, dripping your cum from my pussy. Cum in me, baby,” she leans down, whispering in his ear and kissing down his neck.

His hips drill up into her, getting off on her cries and moans. He keeps her still on his length as he paints her insides, feeling another orgasm start to bubble with the way her pussy contracts around him.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, forehead lined with sweat and a spent Dallas draped over his body. They’re both boneless.

“You’re so sexy,” she says, picking herself up with a wince at the feeling of his half hard cock stirring inside of her. She cards her fingers through his hair, leaning down to kiss his lips.

“I don’t think I can go to practice now. There’s no way I’m moving. Not when you’re warming my cock, and definitely not when I know my cum is inside your pretty, little pussy,” he says in between kisses.

“We should start every morning like this,” she suggests playfully.

“I’ll get kicked off the team,” he retorts.

“I don’t know. I think I’m worth it,” she muses, rocking her hips at a teasing pace.

“Hell yeah you are,” he agrees, flipping her back on her back, ready to go another round until his alarm clock eventually goes off. Maybe then, he’ll peel himself away from his insatiable girlfriend.

a/n: I really love this! Enjoy!

[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 2: More Than Words

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, MDNI, longing, friends to strangers to lovers, mature themes, mention of sex work and violence, reader has secrets, so does Steve, eventual smut, dirty deeds, biker!Hopper. It's the mid 90's and Steve is in his early 30's.

word count: 4.3k

Summary: Getting to know the town of Hawkeye, including Munson's Garage and Patsy's diner. Steve has dreams of another life he never lived. Reader has dreams of Steve. Hopper spends his spare time looking out for Lorelei.

A/N: There will be references to I'm on Fire in the first part of this chapter by way of dreams, but it is not a crucial plot point to the story, just in case you are not familiar with the other series. I keep wanting to bring more of the places/people in from IoF, but every time I do, this Steve morphs into the old one, and I love the idea of exploring him this way, without the other backstory.

Morning cracked open through your blinds, a bright sun void of warmth.  Rolling to face the wall on your floor mattress, you curled the lemon-yellow comforter up over your head, only to be bludgeoned by the onslaught of birds tweeting outside your window.  

A motorcycle grumbled by on the street below and you were officially awake.  

There was a kitchenette in your apartment, but you didn’t have a coffee maker or grounds yet.  The diner opened at 6am on weekends, and that is where you planned to go. You considered throwing a coat on and shuffling over in your pajamas, but ended up pulling on a change of wardrobe that did not match and a shirt that was inside out.  

7:30 was far too early for clever dressing.  

The sky matched the color of the pavement by the time you stepped out onto the sidewalk, now that the sun had been obscured by hulking clouds.  You pulled the hood of your sweatshirt up as a soft drizzle misted your skin, waiting for a big truck to pass before making your way across the street.

One block over and two blocks down was the red and white sign for Patsy’s Diner.  You spotted it just as the rain fell unyielding, your feet picking up the pace.

There were three cars in the slant street parking out front, including a big black Chevy truck with a square body style from the early 70’s.  

You didn’t see Steve until it was too late.  Not until you locked eyes through the diner window.

—-----

Steve picked Robin up every Saturday morning to have breakfast at Patsy’s, which had been their ritual for almost a decade.  There’d been a couple exceptions, including the months Robin was locked up for voluntarily taking the weed possession charge for one of her girlfriends, and a few when Steve had been out of town on a run with the Coffin Kings.  Other than that, even with the worst head-splitting hangover, they never missed it. 

Robin chucked her leather jacket into the booth first before she slid in wearing paint-splattered overalls over a baggy tee with the band Heart on the front.  Her warm golden hair fell to her shoulders, worn in a low ponytail, exposing the “lover” tattoo inked in cursive just under her ear.

Their booth was right at the front corner of the L-shaped diner, next to the window.  Steve had even carved their initials under the table at one point with his old utility knife.  The booths were burnt sienna vinyl that were so worn at the seat that they were ripped in places, exposing the gauzy innards.  The waitress Jeanette collected steaming plates from the kitchen hatch to carry to another table while Sharon, her co-worker, brought over a pot of coffee and two stout, brown mugs.

Steve rolled a toothpick around in his mouth from side to side as he held open the laminated menu to look it over, even though he could read the whole thing with his eyes closed.  

“Rough night?” Robin asked while she concentrated on stirring three spoons of sugar and a hearty dollop of cream into her coffee.

Steve didn’t look up from the menu.  “How could you tell?”

Between the raw strawberry on his knuckles and the dark purple half-moons under his eyes, he knew the answer.

“Your hair looks like it’s trying to evacuate your scalp.” 

She waited for him to start combing the mess back with his fingers to give a soft chuckle.  

Steve let the menu go flat on the table and palmed the rim of his black coffee to pull it closer. “I had another one of those dreams last night.”

His best friend’s eyes snapped up, but then Jeanette was there to take their order and the conversation had to pause while Steve got his standard hotcakes with bacon, and Robin her omelet with hash browns and sourdough toast.  They exchanged a few pleasantries, since Jeanette had worked there as long as the two of them had been alive, and then Robin settled back in her seat with a weary huff.

Steve felt like he had to remind himself to blink, his eyes were so dry.  He looked at his hands as he spoke. “I had a kid, a little boy.”  

Robin leaned forward to rest her forearms on the table.  “Was I his mother in this one? These dreams of  yours freak me out.  I can’t imagine being someone’s mother, like, not ever.”

“You were a really good one though,” a hesitant smile quivered on his lips.  “You helped me raise him even though he wasn’t biologically yours.  But in the dream last night I—”

Every time he woke up from those particular dreams, he mourned the loss of a child he never had. 

He cut off what he was about to say, the memory of the love he felt in his dream hitting him like a wave.  “Last night I was about to get married to some woman, and we had a baby on the way.  My baby.”

Robin was about to crack a joke, but then thought better of it.  “I know what it feels like.  To have the kind of dreams you don’t want to wake up from.  Who in the hell would want to wake up to our lives.”

“Wayne is healthy though,” Steve nodded to himself, trying to find the positives.  “In these dreams he’s…sick or something, and I’m always worried he's not going to live much longer.”

“The apocalypse couldn’t kill Wayne,” she smiled.  “Old man will outlive all of us.”

The food came, and the topic of conversation changed, until Robin shoved a bite into her cheek.  “What was his name, do you remember? Your son?”

“His name was Oliver,” Steve held a strip of bacon out, not ready to take a bite yet.

Robin bobbed her head a few times. “That’s a good name,” and then, “you want to talk about what happened last night?”

“Same old shit,” he huffed, slapping a few crumbs off his black tee while he chewed.  “Hop and I were called out to the junkyard and—”

There you were again, like another dream he was bound to wake up from.

Robin was concentrating on shoveling a particularly big bite into her mouth, so she didn’t know why he’d gone so quiet, until she followed his line of sight.  

You stepped inside, wiping the rain off your face, but you kept your hood on while you waited for a waitress to greet you.  Inside the diner was cozy, wall to wall carpeted a teddy bear brown, and smelled of cooked meats, coffee, and syrup.  It made your mouth water, and you wondered if you should splurge on something.

Jeanette tried offering to seat you at the bar, but you were adamant that you’d take a brew and some sugars to go.  Also a toasted bagel, you added that in at the last second.

“You want egg on that, honey?” Jeanette asked, nestling her pen in the curly silver hair above her ear.

Peeking out from the side of your hood, you noticed Steve lifting up to get a better look at you from his window booth.  “No, plain is fine, thank you.”

“Who is that?” Robin asked, wiping her mouth as she turned around in her seat to get a look at you.  

“No one.  Someone I knew in middle school,” Steve mumbled, hacking into his stack of pancakes with the side of his fork. “She’s the new renter above Donna’s place.”

“Huh,” Robin turned her attention back to her plate.  “Why do you look so flustered?” 

You were standing at the door, watching the rain come down in sheets, when you felt a warm body sink in behind you.

“You need a ride back?” It was Steve with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.  “It looks pretty…wet out there.”

When you turned to face him, you brushed some forgotten crumbs off of his chest with your hand.  It was a very familiar gesture, one that neither of you thought too much about.  

It was on your tongue to decline, but it was the integrity of your bagel that concerned you. Jeanette brought you the big to-go cup and warm bread in a paper bag.

“Just as long as you aren’t here on your bike.”

—------

Steve ran over to tell his companion to sit tight while he drove you the 3 blocks home.  His friend waved at you from her seat, and you gave a tentative wave back.  More like just holding your hand up in the air actually, something of a Spok greeting. 

“I don’t want to interrupt you—”

“She’s fine,” Steve assured, lifting his jacket up to hold over your head as the two of you pushed through the door and into the frey. “This will only take a minute.”

Hunkering down, you jerked the heavy metal door of his ‘78 Chevy pickup open, and then spread yourself long across the bench seat to reach over and pop the lock on his door.

Rain dripping down his face, Steve watched your two fingers pluck the lock up, and it was a small gesture to most, but a tender one for him. Not even his ex-girlfriend had afforded him such consideration, not once.

You weren’t his girlfriend though, you were barely a friend.  An acquaintance he’d fantasized about in his formative years.

Once you were both under shelter in the dry cab, you glanced up through the windshield and saw Robin keeping an eye on the two of  you from her place at the window.  Even through the visual distortion from the rain, you could make out a soft smile lingering, perking up her cheeks.  

The interior smelled like him: old leather, cigarettes, and the yellow, vanilla, tree-shaped freshener hanging from the volume knob on his radio.  

“Sorry if it stinks in here,” he reached down to swat the ashtray closed that was full of smoked filters. “I need to clean that out.”

“Are you familiar with the dumpsters in the alley behind Donna’s place?”

He nodded yes as he put the key in the ignition.  

“Well, they are right under my bedroom window, and I have no air conditioning.  I’m looking forward to how my place will smell in the dead of summer.”

The truck grumbled to life and he anchored his arm around the seat to turn and see where he was going as he backed up.  “You just need one of those air conditioning units that fits in the window.  I know a guy, I’ll get you one.”

You hadn’t been fishing for help but, “that’s really nice of you, thanks.” His offer made you feel small for a second.

Less than a minute later, you were at your place. He pulled in as close as he could to the awning without crashing into the cement structure.  

Not many words were exchanged as you got out, just a few mumbles of “thank you” and “good to see you”, but then you were out and slamming his heavy door shut to hurry inside.  He waited out there for a few beats, wishing he would’ve said more before coasting back to the diner. 

—---

Later that day, as the sun faded to a collage of pink orange behind the low hills, Hopper sat on his Harley in the parking lot of the Rosebud Motel.  

The amount of time spent waiting there, watching the door to room 11 might have sounded absurd to some, but he knew that no one could look after her like he could.

He’d read about a trucker in the news who was paying women for sex and then hurting them.  A few of the girls were missing, and foul play was suspected, but no one cared about the victims enough to investigate much.  Most of Lorelei’s clientele were locals; lonely hired hands and married men, but there were always transient travelers looking for some company when they passed through town.  Those were the ones he was concerned about.

The door to her room opened just as he lit a fresh cigarette.  The guy that stepped out was pushing 70, adjusting his suspenders over his shoulders.  She stayed in the doorway, covered in one of her satin robes, and kissed him on the cheek.  Her appointments weren’t always about sex.  Some were, for sure, and those he preferred not to think about, but a lot were touched starved hermits who craved conversation and a shoulder rub from a beautiful woman.  A few liked to worship her feet.  One guy preferred to feed her ice cream while they watched Cheers reruns on the bed together.  Bottom line, nothing she shared surprised him any more.  

The local customers knew that Hopper was her watchdog, and they’d be too afraid to cross a line with her, even if they wanted to.  

Hopper had not yet been intimate with Lorelei though; not even a kiss.  

For years, he’d managed to keep it platonic, ever since she hired him to be her driver and bodyguard for a date with a new customer she wasn’t yet comfortable with. He’d known that same night that he wanted to be with her, but he also knew he wasn’t special, that she saw him as a bit of a necessary evil to keep the bad man away.  

But, Hopper was a bad man who had done many bad things.  She deserved better.

He would protect her with his life at the drop of a hat.  

Ned, the guy in the suspenders, shuffled to his Chrysler LeBaron, and then Lorelei turned to smile at Hopper.  

He fixed his hair, slicking it back on each side, squinting as he plucked the last of his smoke from between his lips, tossing it to the pavement before adjusting his Coffin Kings cut to wave back.  

—----

The rain was off and on all day, until the night shadows snuffed it out, allowing only a damp mist to remain. Earlier, you’d found a coffee maker at the thrift store, and when you still couldn’t sleep at midnight, you decided to caffeinate yourself to see if it counteracted your awakeness and made you sleepy.  Not much logic to it, but still, there it was. 

Deciding to go out for a walk, you zipped your jacket up and headed out, down along the dumpster alley, and out into the street that led to the park.  The playground equipment sat so ominously motionless, the empty expanse felt eerie for a moment as you made your way over to the swings, hands shoved deep into your pockets.  

You grabbed onto the chain, sitting in the teal plastic seat.  Beneath you, the ground was worn into a large divot where years of dragging feet had been.  You remember sitting on the same swig when you were a little kid and your feet couldn’t reach the dirt.

“Do you want to be alone?” His voice came out of nowhere, making your head turn so fast you almost kinked your neck.

You saw the plume of cigarette smoke before you saw him.  He was cloaked in darkness, but there was something about his shape, the way he sauntered forward.

“Steve?”

“Miss me?”

You took a deep breath, attempting to slow your heart rate. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just wondering the same thing about you,” he came fully into view then, illuminated by the full moon through the tree boughs.  “This is my park.”

“Oh,” you looked around with mock surprise.  “You own this whole park? You did well for yourself.”

With a flick of ash from his cig, he sank down into the swing next to you, chains clinking against the aluminum bracing as he did so.  His hair curled at the base of his neck, the thick top part flopping to one side as he raked a hand through it.  He was wearing that same type of v-neck shirt under his leather jacket to give a peak of his chest hair and tattoos, as if he knew you’d be looking.  As if he’d known he’d run into you.

He smirked. “When Eddie and I were kids, we lived in that trailer park a few blocks that way,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We spent a lot of time here.  Any excuse to get out of the house.”

He extended the pack of cigarettes out to offer you one, but you declined that time.  “What were you out here doing tonight though?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled a laugh. “Decided to go for a ride. You?”

“Same, with the not being able to sleep thing.  In the city there is more to do but not many options here.”

“Tell me about it,” he scoffed.  

You shared a silence then, one that did not feel empty or awkward, but then he looked up at the sky that was clear and bright with stars.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a ride?”

It took you a full minute to answer, but it was not a hesitance based on uncertainty.  It was hesitance based on wondering if Steve knew what he was getting himself into with someone like you.

“Where are we going? New Mexico?”

He shrugged, making eye contact again.  “We could. If that’s what you want.”

You ran your tongue along the ridge of your teeth, waiting for him to come over and take your hand to help you out of the seat.  He pulled  you up so fast, your chests crashed together, your mouths inches apart.  

“I want to show you something,” he said, brushing his lips against yours.  

—-

When you blinked awake the next morning, you realized that meeting Steve on the playground had been a dream.  You let the weight of its loss sink in as you rubbed sleep from your eyes, fumbling for the key around your neck as if you might’ve misplaced it in another dimension.  

On the other side of town, Steve revved his bike to life in the garage of the picket fence house he’d been renting from Eddie Munson. Eddie’s ex Melanie left him high and dry with a mortgage on his hands, and he was quick to offer it to his friend when he had nowhere to go.  Steve took care of the small lawn, and did any repairs with money from his own pocket.  He didn’t really care about the quaint seaside bungalow look of it—the garage was all that mattered to him.  He could keep his bike in there and fix up project cars when he had the means.  

He was running late, so he took the shortcut through the back alleyways of town.  

Or maybe he knew he’d be on time, he just wanted to cruise by your apartment and see if he could get a glimpse of you. 

Coffee was brewing in the office at Munson’s Garage when he got there and from behind the desk, Robin looked surprised.  

“You’re almost a half hour early,” she dropped her attention to the papers she was organizing.  “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“I slept great actually,” he lied, pulling a styrofoam cup off the stack to fill it with steaming brew.  “At least five hours.”

“No shit,” she returned under her breath.  “If you’re ready to clock in, Eddie has that Plymouth up on the lift for you to take a look at.  The owner wants to pick it up this afternoon.”

She stood to hand Steve a sheet of paper as she spoke.  “A few vehicles are coming in to get serviced at 9.  Eddie has to pick up a tow in Everett, so it’s just you and Hopper today.”

Through the window over Robin’s head, Steve could see the inside of the garage and Hopper leaning against a tall red tool caddy to have a smoke.  He bucked his chin at Steve when he caught his eye. 

A few hours into the daily grind, Steve was murmuring the lyrics to the song More Than Words by Extreme while he was on the creeper under a car, thankful for Hopper’s presence since he really didn’t give a shit about the music.  Eddie though? His tastes were very particular, and they usually had to flip a coin.  When Steve won the toss, Eddie grumbled around the bay all day, rolling his eyes at Steve’s enthusiasm for Prince’s entire discography.  

Hopper kicked Steve’s foot to get his attention.

“What’s up man?” Steve grunted, continuing to work.  

“Protection run tonight with Bones and a few of the others. Are  you coming?” Hopper had on cement gray coveralls and pulled a red rag from his back pocket to wipe carburetor fluid off his hands.  

Steve stopped what he was doing and used his legs to inch out from under the Pontiac Firebird.  He’d scratched his neck several times and wiped his eye, so there were dark smudges in those spots.  A protection run was when members of the Coffin Kings went along to escort precious, most likely illegal, cargo across state lines.  

Steve didn’t answer, so Hopper continued.  “Sounds like we’ll each be getting a couple grand a head.”

A couple grand? For a few hours of work when he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway? Oh yeah, Steve was going on the protection run, no matter the risks.  

“Steve?” The voice belonged to someone else that time. 

Someone who sounded a lot like you. 

Steve sat up on the creeper and fiddled with the wrench in his hand, sure that it was only Robin and he was just hearing things.  

But, there you were, stepping into the garage from the parking lot with what appeared to be a Pyrex casserole dish in your hands.

“Um, hi, you—um,” Steve got to his feet after a clumsy shuffle with the creeper, wiping his hands off as well as he could on his jeans.  

“I brought you some lunch,” flustered, you realized it was past noon and surely he’d had lunch already.  “Or dinner, whichever. As a thank you for driving me home yesterday.”

Hopper looked from Steve to you and then back to you again before excusing himself to the other side of the garage.  

Robin hurried to spy on the conversation from the air conditioned privacy in the office.

“For me?” He wasn’t trying to be obtuse, he was genuinely confused. 

“Well,” you steadied the dish in your grasp, glancing around. “Or whoever else might want some.  It’s lasagna.  My mom’s recipe.  Donna let me use her oven, I made some for myself earlier and just thought you might…um…do you like lasagna?”

“Sure,” he reached out to take it from you. “Who doesn’t like lasagna?”

The words were there, but you couldn’t read the expression on his face.  The scowl lines in his forehead and the down-turned side of his mouth told you that he was repulsed by all of it: the lasagna, you, everything.  

Steve was speechless.  Not for lack of words, but more an abundance of them. The last time anyone had cared to make something for him was his grandmother before she passed.  Robin had made him dinner a handful of times, but that was different.  Still, all he could do was stare at the tin foil cover and wet his lips.

Your brain raced. “If it’s too much, I can take it back?”

“No,” Steve moved the dish away as if to protect it from your reaching hands. “I’ll make sure to clean the dish when I’m done and get it back to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shuffled back, turning on your heel to beeline for your car as fast as you could.  

We were going to run away to New Mexico together, remember?

A few other Coffin Kings had just pulled into the parking lot, and with narrowed eyes, Steve noticed that they were all watching you walk away.

Fuckers.

He struggled to find a place to put the blue dish down, and finally settled on the concrete, so he could head off after you at a jog. 

“Hey,” he caught your arm, moving with purpose to block their leering view of you. “Is that your car? Let me walk you over there,” pointing to the yellow Dodge Omni parked under the awning.

You moved a few steps, so did he, and then you eyed him suspiciously.  “What’s going on?”

One of the Kings whistled their approval of you, and Steve gnashed his teeth.  

“Nothings going on, I just wanted to make sure you know how grateful I am.  For coming over here.  With the food. For bringing me food.”

You tried to see where the whistle had come from, but Steve darted to the side to block your view.

God, he was blowing it.  What a tool.

You wanted to tell him about the dream you had, but right then didn’t feel like a good time. 

“I have to get back to work,” you looked at your hands, and then lifted them to the heartbeat in his tan throat, and eventually up to his full lips. “See you later?”

He reached out as if he might hug you, but then put his arms down again, slapping them to his sides.  “Hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“I work during the day, but otherwise I’m never busy,” you swallowed, avoiding his gaze.

“Do you want to get out of here? Go for a ride?”

But then, your eyes snapped up at the familiarity of the questioning.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he added.

----

Thank you so much to my readers, I love you and love to hear what you think.

[uncaught-coolfish]

AND WHEN SHE DECAPITATES A GUY WITH FUCKING MOMENTUM………… hi

thinking abt sienna biting a dude’s jugular out in chapter 3

[superiorsturgeon]

How Tough Are Ya?

Banesaw: *now retired from the White Fang and working as a doorman* Welcome to the Menagerie Meat Hut. How tough are you? 😠

Pyrrha: How tough am I? How tough am I?!

Pyrrha: *rips Banesaw’s chest tattoo of Sienna Khan off his body like a bandaid*

Banesaw: OWWW!!!!

Pyrrha: *slaps the tattoo back on upside-down like Flex Tape*

Banesaw: AAARGH!!!

Pyrrha: Got any more tattoos? 😁

Banesaw: *through painful tears* N-no ma’am…! You can go right in!

Pyrrha: 😇

Jaune: *steps forward* 🙂

Banesaw: *collecting himself* Welcome to the Menagerie Meat Hut. How tough are you? 😠

Jaune: How tough am I? How tough am I?!

Jaune: This morning I told my girlfriend to crush my head with her thighs!

Banesaw: So?

Jaune: *narrows eyes* …and I’m dating Pyrrha Nikos!

Banesaw: 😨 Oh! Uh, so sorry to trouble you! Go right in!

[oneforthemunny]

An emotional thought, but what about Nepo Baby and Eddie accidentally missing an important event. Usually they’re on top of it, making sure they get to everything they can for the girls. But today was falling apart, from Seph ripping her jeans, Kensie getting in a fight with Sienna, Sicily accidentally running out of gas on the side of the road and Vega coloring on her walls, Eddie and Nepo are on their last straw. When they sit down to eat, Seph comes in and asks why they’re at dinner and they’re confused. With her chronic older sister syndrome, she tells them they forgot about Zarah’s science fair.

They run as fast as they can to the school, but a teacher cleaning up says she did excellent and she won first place. The teacher has to also has to give her the printed photos of her acceptance and, sadly, gives her the parent-student copy that has her with her best friend and their parents in it. The teacher says she was very nonchalant and said it’s okay and that her sisters probably had something, that it’s not a surprise and is getting dinner with their family.

They go to the car, feeling so bad that the one time Zarah wanted them there, they weren’t. Not only did she win and they didn’t get to see or support her, she said she wasn’t surprised. It’s hurts even more knowing that she didn’t mean it maliciously, she is just so easy going.

Zarah gets home and they’re immediately apologizing, but she’s so understanding, saying it’s okay. As much as the other girls lashing outs drive them crazy, this is one time they wish Zarah would just scream in their face. They make sure to take her on a special trip with just her, doing whatever she’d like to do and also have her redo her award winning project for the family.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

fine. you started this non, but I'm going to make it worse. hope you guys like SOBBING!

so it wasn't a science fair, it's a recital. a musical, talent show type recital. she'd been practicing with eddie for weeks, he'd been showing her how to play the guitar, then she'd go practice in private. she wanted the song she performed to be a secret, a surprise.

you had it marked on your calendar for weeks. made sure your assistant knew, your parents, everyone. you were so proud of zarah and so excited.

then came the week from hell.

your assistant got the flu. you and eddie had to balance swapping off the kids, and it was a fucking nightmare.

sienna and kensie decided this would be the week that they went to war with each other about a fucking pair of shoes, and who was the rightful owner.

persephone was in nyc for business for her new brand, sicily ran out of gas on the side of the road and got hounded by paparazzi. you told kensie to drop zarah off, kissing her head and telling her you'd see her later, looking over the fact that she was dressed up and bouncing on her toes. it slipped your mind today was the recital.

eddie didn't come back with sicily until hours later, on edge and fuming. the paps, the tow truck, the type that he told sicily to fucking get gas before she left. you weren't much better. you'd had to break up the fight between kensington and sienna, taking the shoes and throwing them in the trash. while you were dealing with that, vega decided that she needed to unleash her artistic talents on the world... in the form of scribbling all over the walls.

you were near tears, beyond frustrated, tension so high by the time eddie got home. vega wailing loudly in the corner, sicily stomping up stairs, and eddie already reaching for another cigarette at the piercing sound of vega's loud, exaggerated cries.

the phone rang, shrill and cutting through the house. you huffed, halting your scrubbing to glare at eddie. "can you get that?" you grit, glaring at him.

he huffed, looking at the phone on the receiver. "it's your mother." he snapped with an eye roll.

you scrubbed the wall again with the magic eraser sponge, sure your manicure was ruined- you could add that to the list of things you would need to get done. "just ignore it. I'll call her later."

then it rang again. this time, she left a message.

"button, where are you at?" her hushed, nasally tone cut through the machine, background music loud even over the phone. "zarah is about to go on. daddy is with her back stage but she's asking for eddie. please tell me you're almost here. honestly, this is so mortifying."

you gasped, the sound tearing from your lungs. "oh my god." you held your hands over your mouth, heart plummeting while you looked at eddie.

"shit, shit, shit. let's go! now! everybody! down here right now! let's go!" eddie boomed up the stairs, snatching his keys then scrambling to scoop vega up from the chair in the corner. she fought against him, still upset at being put into the dreaded corner, but he ignored her, putting her in her carseat as quickly as he could.

you wrangled the other girls out to the car. "we forgot zarah's recital." you snapped when kensie started to whine about not being dressed. "get in the car now."

they filed in, all equally as quiet- guilty. the car was silent, except for the occasional barking yell from eddie to other cars and vega's whiney sniffles.

you tore into the school like a bat out of hell, eddie's tires screeching when he pulled up to the front of the school, turning on his hazards, before you all bounded up the stairs towards the school's auditorium.

you heard applause as you opened the door, hopeful that zarah was about to go on, that you made it- until you saw your daughter, bowing with the guitar that was all too big for her, scanning the crowd- for you.

your dad stood off the side of the stage, and you could see him hug her in the wings. your heart shattered, a gut punch sickening feeling. he had never been there for anything of yours, late to your graduation, your wedding. yet, they were here when you weren't for your baby- when you forgot. the one thing on earth you swore you'd never do.

eddie looked at you hesitantly, seeing the wobble in your lip before you could even register it. vega was still fussing in kensie's arms, sicily and sienna uncomfortable with the tension.

"take your sister out to the car, alright? just park it and we'll be right there, kens." eddie muttered, pulling you gently down the hall towards backstage.

you pushed yourself through the makeshift dressing room until you saw your father and zarah. "zarah, baby," you called, pushing through the crowds to get to her.

your father's eyes cut to you, cold and unimpressed, but that was nothing compared to the sorrowful, rounded brown eyes of your eleven year old shining at you in defeat. you were sure you were going to be sick now.

"zarah, I am so sorry. we tried to get here and-and it-"

"it's alright." zarah nodded gently, sweetly, like she wanted to comfort you. your heart tore.

"no, it's not. it's not alright, and I am so sorry, baby." you sucked in a deep breath to keep yourself from crying. "did mom record it?" you asked, looking up at your father hopefully.

"no," he seethed coldly, stern and stone glare like he couldn't believe you'd done this, hypocritical at best, but it didn't make you feel any worse. "she though you both would be here."

eddie's fist balled, turning away to compose himself. he hated victor, wanted to scream at him that he had no fucking room to talk, break his jaw for making you feel bad. he was angry, angry at himself for missing this. they'd practiced for weeks, talked about it for weeks. she'd been so excited to surprise the two of you and now... you missed it.

"but-but the school records it, right?" you asked hopefully. "ed, go see if you can ask one of the teacher's if we could get a copy, please. we'll watch it all together, and-and you can perform it for all of us, and-"

"it's ok." zarah mumbled sadly. "there's another one in a few weeks and...maybe you could be at that one and see me?"

you felt your face crumble at the question, the final straw after this entire shit show of a day. your sweet baby, zarah, was already so quiet so calm, shadowed by the loud personalities of her sisters. you and eddie held a fair amount of fear that she would feel overlooked, that any of your girls would feel like you didn't have time for them- like your parents made you feel. you'd been so tedious about making sure you attended everything, spent time with them, equally. all that work was gone now, blown up in your face after one bad day.

eddie placed a hand on your shoulder, soothing and calming, while he crouched in front of zarah. "zar, we'll be there, baby. I'll camp out int he auditorium the night before to get front row seats for you." his chest loosened a little at her lips pulling in the corners, the faintest smile. "we're sorry, zarah. we didn't mean to miss it."

"I know." zarah nodded calmly, understandingly. somehow this wss worse.

you'd kill for her to screech and cry like kensie or vega, to call you the worst mother like sephy, or be furious enough to give the silent treatment like the twins. this was worse somehow, made you feel guiltier and guiltier.

you hugged her close to your chest, muttering apologies into her soft hair, more of a comfort to yourself than anyone else.

your parents glared at you, judging glares at the dinner, while they raved about how great zarah was- how they were there to see it.

eddie watched how you shrunk down, so consumed by guilt, by your own shortcomings and trauma. the girls saw it too, guilty that they'd caused it, that they took away from their sister with their own stupid things. zarah's sad little eyes, even though she tried to brush it off. like she was used to it.

it made eddie's stomach churn.

"excuse me," eddie grumbled, pushing back from the table. "I'll be right back."

you didn't acknowledge it, listening to the praises your parents poured out to zarah, trying not to flinch at every hurled backhanded insult towards you.

eddie stood outside, phone pressed to his ear, finsihing a cigarette. "you name your price, I'll pay it alright." he said easily into the phone. "I don't care. whatever they want. I'll call my manager as soon as I get off with you and I'll have it sent, cashed, a check, whatever."

he came back, seeing your parents still chatting and bragging. "oh, we should take you out for something special, zar. a real treat. you deserve it." the sneer on your mother's face made you feel sick.

"actually. I have a surprise for us." eddie snapped. "if you're up for it, zar."

she nodded softly, eddie's dimpled grin spreading over his cheeks. "great. let's go." he grabbed vega out of her highchair.

"where are we going, ed?" you whispered, eyes cutting to the girls behind you.

"I got it handled." eddie nodded.

"what? got what handled-"

"I've got it handled." eddie nodded, pulling the door open to let the girls file in.

"edward," your mother chirped. "what on earth are you doing?"

"tana, victor, I can't thank you enough for everything today. it means so much. the girls are lucky to have you." eddie said smoothly. "I mean, I'm sure you know how busy things can get as parents. how hard it is to keep up with everything all the time."

tana scoffed. your eyes narrowed. "I hardly think-"

"mom, you didn't even show up to my graduation." you snapped, in a low voice that made her eyes bulge. "and while I do appreciate you being here for zarah, you have no room to judge anyone."

tana blubbered while victor gave you a disapproving look. eddie smirked at you lightly, shutting the car door. "thanks again!" he waved, tearing out of the parking lot.

you were shocked when eddie pulled back into the school, turning to look at your girls. "did you forget something?" you mumbled to him.

"nope." eddie said cooly. "get your stuff. sicily help zarah get her guitar."

"dad, what are we doing?" kensie asked, brows furrowed in confusion at eddie.

the headmaster opened the door, waving at eddie politely. "baby, can you get the girls?" eddie turned to you. "'m gonna help zar tune up."

your face flashed in confusion before softening. "eddie, are you serious?" you muttered. "how did you-"

"martin's got it." eddie nodded cooly. "they don't mind. I promise, but they were nice enough to come back, so ya know. don't take forever." he grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"c'mon, zar-zar," eddie held the small guitar case, hand extending for her to take, walking up the stairs.

you weren't sure how eddie managed to do this. how he got the number of the headmaster and convinced him to let you back into the school, set up again so you could see the show. you assumed the addition built on to the library months later was probably a result of it, but it didn't matter.

spotlight on, sound and lighting, and even the headmaster introducing zarah like before- as if she wasn't the only one there.

you sat on the third row, wanting to see her as best you could.

"next, we have zarah munson performing 'slipping through my fingers' a rendition done on the acoustic guitar." the headmaster bowed out, and you all clapped loudly from your seats when she walked across the stage.

she blushed, giving that sweet, shy smile you always cooed at when she sat at her bench. the piano started and she started strumming the guitar, the harmony to the song.

you felt the tears fall, too overwhelmed to wipe them. zarah chose to sing abba's slipping through my fingers, a good song, yes; but it was the song you always sang to her. when she was a baby, a toddler, when she had nightmares, or just when you felt like humming it. especially after her mama mia! obsession, you switched from abba to meryl streep's version, but it was your song for zarah.

she bowed, and the clapping and screaming from the seven of you in the theater rivaled the full audience from before. loud and cheering, whooping while zarah beamed, a warm light coming back to her.

you still felt horrible, guilty, even after the entire thing. the next recital, eddie was true to his fucking word. he was there at eight am. dropped the girls off and sat front row with the crew while they set up.