#wip title games

[ambernotember]

wip title games

tagged by @setmeatopthepyre

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs as you please. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

1. truck accident au

2. Colorado/long story short

3. Mythbusters AU

4. School Concert AU

5. Clipboard and Fix It - omgcp/911 crossover

6. Coffee Shop AU

7. cozy/apple orchard

8. when did you know hen?

9. LGBTQ text chain

10. These days - Shannon Lives AU

11. Buck leaves the loft

np tagging: @erodingsinner @cjlouwho @louvemeanyway @livelaughlou @leashybebes @apollabarnes @donovankinard @sad-girl-hours23 @peppermintquartz @thecarrott @desert--moonchild @herrmannhalsteadproduction @rcmclachlan @princessfbi @salty-autistic-writer @screamlet (i tagged a few more than 11 people because some of you may have already been tagged!)

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Hello! It's Carol.

I know it was a few days ago, but this is for the WIP List tag game (if you are still in the mood to play, and if not that's totally okay!)

I was curious about that Dressed to the Ninety-nines with Hunter x Reader. What would you like to share about that one?

Thanks!

@clonethirstingisreal

Since I shared for "Dressed to the Ninety-Nines" with @523rdrebel the other day that I'll link here, I'll share a teaser/snippet with the two of you this time! 🩷

[apollabarnes]

wip titles game

tagged by @leashybebes, thank you, let's hope you don't regret it haha!

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs as you please. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

this is extremely organized. to me. to others? ehhhhh. yeah, i'm gonna guess probably not.

alcohol or alchemy

deaconannierocker (not a fic, not a fic, not a fic ... ah fuck)

omgcp avengers

witching hour daily drabbles

bucktommy fluffebruary prompts

we provide... emergencies

crash baby, crash

marvel 911

dark side of the morning

we will carve our names

creeping in at three am

that was us interlude

that was us part six

that was us part seven

daily drabbles

this is the year that i feel most alone

epic mix up

ebay rules

i want to start a fight

casey

fix it fic

(some of these are organized, some of these are in the process of being cannibalized into the same fic, some of them are just ideas)

there's no way i'm tagging 21 people because yikes, but uh. yeah. feel free to ask and/or consider yourselves tagged in this

[rcmclachlan]

UMMM bare and/or/both post-doheny park alt meeting pleeeeeease

"I don't know how you managed it on such short notice, Tommy, but I can't thank you enough," Bobby says, voice pitched just loud enough to be heard over the din. "We were in a bad way for a minute there."

"If you want to thank anyone, Captain Nash, thank Howie," Tommy says warmly. It takes Buck a hot second to realize who Tommy's talking about. "Although if you really wanted to thank me, I wouldn't say no to you calling my captain and smoothing things over. This wasn't exactly sanctioned."

"Tommy, did you steal that plane?" Hen asks, coloring within the edges of her disbelief with amusement. 

"How dare you impugn my honor, Firefighter Wilson. I'll have you know that I borrowed this plane, and that while, yes, it was without permission and technically I may have committed a felony, I have every intention of returning it."

Bobby's grinning so widely that the low light coming through the windshield catches his gums and makes them glisten. "I'll give Captain O'Dell a call the second we get back to the station. Don't worry, Tommy, I'll make sure this won't affect your job."

"I don't think it'll be that bad," Tommy says. "It was for an LAFD call, not a jaunt to Mexico. I'll probably just get yelled at, or grounded for a week. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Making waves at the 217, I see," Bobby says approvingly.

"More like sonic waves," Buck chimes in, then chokes on his own spit when Eddie tiredly smacks him on the back of the head. 

"I don't know who that was just now, but I like you," Tommy says with an audible grin.

wip titles game

[thesafecafe]

🗂️ wip tag game! 🗂️

make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have WIPs. people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Thank you @shuadotcom for the tag! I have well over 60+ wips so I'm just gonna put a few up here:

"Open Windows"

"i still love her though"

"Say His Name"

"Scream 96' "

"Dark Whispers"

"Body"

"My Pretty Boy"

"Stay Forever"

"Care For Me"

"Within You"

"Devil I Know"

"Love You Like Me"

Tagging: @brownsugarbaybee, @hee0soo, @bad-euph0ria, @andysorbit, @calibabii21, @frenchkisstheabyss, @multifandomslxt, @agust-june, @welcometomyoasis, @potatomountain, @ja3hwa, @smileysuh

no pressure y'all <3

[moonydanny]

(Not) Belonging, please!

*eek* I love this one! It's a little angsty in my head, but with a happy ending. Here's the idea I have for this one:

So Buck has an accident on the job. Nothing too bad, but dangerous enough that it’s touch and go for a minute. He has to have surgery (something with only a couple of months or so of recovery).

Tommy was at the call with them, working with the ground crew of the 217, and he sees Evan collapse. He doesn’t think, he just reacts and runs to him and next thing he knows, they’re at the hospital waiting for Buck to come out of surgery.

He keeps himself a little away from the rest of the 118, he doesn’t belong there anymore, hasn’t seen or talked to any of them in the two months since the breakup. He shouldn’t even be in the waiting room, really, but he can’t move. He’s fused to the chair. At some point, it’s Maddie who sits next to him. Holds his hand. Leans on him, with her head on his shoulder. He thinks he would burst into tears if he wasn’t completely numb. But he squeezes her hand gently.

When the doctor comes out and asks for Evan Buckley’s family, he stands up, but doesn’t come closer, stays at the back of the group. He can hear well enough. The doctor says Evan is okay. It’ll take a couple of months, but they expect a full recovery.

Tommy stops listening. His ears ring. He can see everyone’s relief, and his is so damn strong he’s surprised he’s still on his feet. Maddie turns to him, her eyes full of tears, but a little smile on her lips and that’s it. He feels the contents of his stomach coming back up and takes one, two, three steps towards the trash can at the edge of the room and doubles over to vomit.

What do you think?

[flekh]

wow she is the woman ever

[rosyhoneydew]

omg tell me about tommy amnesia fic please 👀

hi!! thank you so much for the ask! here's a bit more from the tommy amnesia fic, where he meets Jee for the first time (again) 🥹

“Tommy!” The cheery sound of his name comes just a moment before two small arms wrap tightly around his right leg. He stumbles back a step and feels Evan put a hand on his back to steady him. Instinctive. Tommy reaches down to pat the three-foot-tall child that’s clinging to him, looking up and making flustered eye contact with a woman with dark brown hair and shining, round eyes and… Howie. “Hey, Tommy,” Howie says. “Hey,” it falls out of his mouth like a whisper. Howie. Howie’s wife. Howie’s kid. Jesus, things really have changed. “Jee, sweetie, remember we talked about Uncle Tommy and how he might be hurting a little bit still?” Uncle Tommy. The name bounces around in his brain like Plinko. The kid makes a hmph sound and squeezes his leg tighter once, then lets go and trots over to Evan with her hands stretched up above her head. Evan groans as he indulges her, lifting her onto a hip, “Oh, there we go. How’s my best friend in the world doing, hm?” “Uncle Buck!” she responds, then holds her fingers out in front of his face. “Look, I got princess nails.”

WIP Titles Game

[venusinmyrrh]

working title: the vampire’s portrait bleeds for a hundred years

in 1850s london, a young woman dies under bizarre circumstances, leaving behind a suspiciously mangled corpse and a mysterious legacy. over a century later, a film crew sets out to make a camp horror classic inspired by her death, only to discover that her story isn’t over yet.

“i won’t be back…. but something will.”

[djarins-cyare]

Held Is The Seed for the fic asks game, please! <3

Hi lovely Caroline! ❤️ Thanks for the ask and sorry it’s taken me a while to get to it. I’m offering a snippet further down as compensation 😇

The title Held Is The Seed comes from a quote by John Harrigan: “Happiness held is the seed, happiness shared is the flower”. There’s no specific line in the fic that refers to it (at least, not yet), but it seemed appropriate because Din has always hunted his bounties alone, whereas in this fic, he’s teamed up with someone else. Still, he keeps himself relatively closed off from her, essentially holding the seed of his happiness close to his chest. It’s only when he fully opens up and shares himself with her (in traditional smutty fanfic fashion 😏) that his happiness has a chance to bloom.

It’s basically a four-part smut-fest. The concept is that they’re in a cantina (separately so as not to appear conspicuous or too threatening) to locate a potential source and get some intel. Reader is bored and drinking, and she gets chatted up by a random guy. He notices that she keeps glancing at the Mandalorian in the corner, assumes he’s got competition, and claims Mandos make poor lovers. Reader vaguely thinks Din is attractive but assumes he’s kind of sexless, but she defends his honour nonetheless and invents a few stories about him to shut her would-be suitor up…

“How would you know?” you challenge. “Maybe there are loopholes. Maybe he can take it off in the dark or if his partner wears a blindfold. Maybe he’s the best damn lay in this bar, and women tell stories about his legendary talent with his tongue. Did you consider that?” With your attention now entirely on Zabrak(ish), you can’t see Mando’s reaction to your somewhat lewd suggestions, but you can imagine he’s probably shocked. The two of you banter occasionally, but you know him to be a sweet guy when he hasn’t got his gruff hunter guise on, and you bet this kind of talk makes him blush. The one time you’d mentioned anything carnal in front of him, he had awkwardly slunk off to the cockpit and hidden for a few hours. You, however, are enjoying the expression on Zabrak(ish)’s face. It’s equal parts annoyed that you’re defending his rival and worried that you might be right and he’s lost the game. Hilarious. You need to press more. Swishing the whiskey in your glass, you take a swig and raise an eyebrow. “You wondered why I was looking at him. Maybe I’ve heard rumours. A Mandalorian in silver armour, the best in the parsec at licking and dicking. Fights well, fucks well.” You risk a glance at Mando and see he has his back to you now and is with a shifty-looking guy who is speaking furtively. The informant. You’re glad he’s distracted, to be honest. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t hear what you’re saying about him. It might reveal your desires, and since you work and live with this man, you shouldn’t complicate things. Zabrak(ish) now seems torn between erupting in anger or collapsing in tears. But emboldened by your success so far and the knowledge that Mando can’t hear, you decide to weave another false scenario to illustrate to this guy why he shouldn’t make assumptions about your partner. “And even if the helmet never comes off, maybe he’s got other talents. Knows exactly how and where to use his fingers to make a woman come in seconds. Talks so deliciously dirty through the modulator that he can get her off without even touching her. Has a huge cock and knows how to use it. And by the way, the whole mysterious armoured warrior thing is seriously attractive. So sorry, pal, you’re outmatched on this one.”

I’m sure you can see where this is going!

Din has, in fact, overheard, and he later offers to prove Reader’s speculations correct one by one. First with just his voice (dirty talk ahoy!), next with his fingers, then with his tongue, and lastly with his dick.

There’s a tiny snippet here from an old WIP challenge post taken from a paragraph near the end of the dirty talk scene. Depending on whether this gets much interest (which I doubt because I’m not tagging anyone), I may post something a little spicier later, but let’s just say Din finds an innovative use for that ridge along his shoulder pauldron… 😳

[lotusbxtch]

Stripper whiskey!

Hi babe! @baronessvonglitter also asked this one, so I'm tagging her as well.

Stripper!Whiskey is going to be a one-shot. Reader is in Vegas for her best friend's bachelorette party - albeit begrudgingly, it's not really Reader's scene. Especially not the male strip shows, but it was on the bride's list of non-negotiables. Reader tags along to the cowboy-themed revue, settling in for a night of cheesy, corny, oiled men gyrating... when onto the stage pops Whiskey, the show's star performer as of late - and it's only then that Reader realizes that it's her childhood crush, "the one that got away", Jack, up there with assless chaps. And Jack hasn't forgotten Reader either.

Thanks to @mountainsandmayhem @for-a-longlongtime and @alltheirdamn for helping me to flesh out what direction I want to go with this fic! Leave me a comment if you want to be added to the tag list when I write this (who knows when that will be though lol).

If you want to see more of my WIP titles: click here

In case you are interested: @mermaidgirl30 @joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove @sin-djarin @itwasntimethatdidit40 @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @strang3lov3 @luxurychristmaspudding @arcanefox207 @legendary-pink-dot @guiltyasdave @pedropeach @perotovar

[ambernotember]

9. LGBTQ text chain

love a good text chain!

me too! :)

Lucy 🚁 I’ll be honest I’m a little lost as to who the reinforcements are

🚨Carlos Carlos Reyes, Texas Ranger TK Strand, Austin FD Paramedic

🚑TK And my husband ❤️❤️❤️

🐓 Hen We met TK during the wildfires a few years back, then TK and I kept in touch because you know… queer firefighters

🚑TK You guys are going to start catching up to the 126 any day now I think we’re still up 3 to your 2

Lucy 🚁 Oh do I still count for the 118 if I’m not there anymore? Then we’d be tied

🚑Nancy has been added to the chat

🚑Nancy What’s this now? 

🚑TK LAFD/PD/Dispatch chat; Buck’s boyfriend broke up with him and we’re trying to figure out why/how to fix it

🚑Nancy Meddling, my favourite

[dadvans]

Short Term Solutions for the wip game! 💕💕💕

for the WIP title meme!

tbh can't remember what i've posted from this one before--

Tommy feels like he’s walking onto another scene when he shows up at Evan’s apartment. There’s smoke, albeit thinning through every open window, and Evan is standing on the table waving a sheet pan at the detector high overhead on the ceiling. “Hey.” Evan doesn’t look down at him. Tommy sees a smothered pot on the stove’s back burner, hallmark of a grease fire. “How do you feel about pizza?” “I love pizza,” he offers, like there’s a monster out there that somehow doesn’t. He tries to hide the worry in his voice and makes his way around the kitchen island to the stove so he can help dispose of the smoldering remains of dinner. “I’ll call Dominoes as soon as I’m not afraid of this alarm going off again,” Evan says. “Don’t worry about it.” Fuck Dominoes. Evan’s clearly had a long day, and Tommy is hungry but he’s not that hungry. They’re doing the overpriced hole-in-the-wall down the street where Ryan Gosling was apparently caught by paparazzi last week. He’s fine paying. “I can call.” Evan gives in without a fight, so he must really be at his limit. “Thanks.” It’s tough to see him like this. His usual spark has been dimming more and more the past month since Gerrard resumed control of the 118, and even on the really bad days, he seems reluctant to talk about it. The first time they did, Tommy tried to pass along wisdom from what he remembered of Gerrard: keep your head down, don’t go out of your way to do anything you weren’t asked to do (especially on a call), stay in your lane, and document every goddamn thing as best as you can the second it happens. But these days Tommy can see it in the dismissive way that Evan will crack open a beer on the countertop and say, “Nothing, nothing, you know, asked me if i moved out here ‘cause California is the land of fruits and nuts again,” that there is something worse and more complicated going on under the surface, something Evan refuses to let him help carry the weight on for a variety of reasons. It sucks. Tommy wants to help, and watching Evan struggle and buckle under whatever is going down at the 118 without him is starting to scare him. Something’s gotta give, and Tommy knows it inevitably will. The best thing he knows he can do until further notice is focus on short term solutions. He can take care of a smoking pan while Evan stands helplessly on his kitchen table. He can order a large Hellraiser, extra meat. He can get Evan so far outside of his head he’s boneless and thoughtless and can temporarily forget. “Delivery ETA is sixty minutes,” Tommy announces as he gets off the phone. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Evan says, gingerly getting off the table and setting the pan down. “I told you I’d have dinner ready, you’re probably starving. I can probably throw a salad together—“ “Don’t worry about it,” Tommy says, and that’s when he notices one of Evan’s hands is loosely wrapped. “Are you okay?” Evan seems to have forgotten about it, and looks down at his own palm when he sees Tommy staring. “What? Oh, yeah, got distracted, burned it. Then totally forgot I left the heat on high when I went to take care of it, and“—he waves his good hand vaguely around at the thinning smoke, a half-laugh catching in his throat clearly directed at himself—“yeah. Just can’t seem to stay out of my own way today.” There’s something unsaid there, some kind of weakness Evan doesn’t seem willing to part with, and it breaks Tommy’s heart. He maneuvers his way over to Evan’s side, taking him by the wrist to gently kiss over the burn. “Well, we have an hour.” He sighs. “Tell you what. Let me take care of you, get you out of your head for a bit. Then, after dinner, can we talk about it?” Evan stares up at him, eyes so big. Some invisible weight seems to slough off his shoulders at the suggestion alone, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

[apollabarnes]

“I want to start a fight” ?!

wip titles game

okay! this is one of those ones where i'm currently editing/regretting my life/rewriting etc etc. it's gonna get finished eventually!

(also i realized that i was writing this is present tense and i wanted it in past tense so thanks for waiting while i finished editing that particular 'error')

it's a post-breakup / make-up fic for buck and tommy (we're all shocked, i know!) they've been my main muse at the moment so like! i also started writing this when everyone was writing this particular flavour of breakup and i wanted to put my own spin on it. so with that in mind, here are two snippets of a breakup fic where buck gives tommy a few weeks to himself and then simply refuses to give him a moment's peace by always showing up nearby.

It took five days before anyone at Harbour started looking at him differently, and Tommy was perversely impressed that Evan managed to keep the breakup to himself that long. He wasn't sure if Evan was hoping there would be a second chance or not. There were thirty eight missed calls and five messages on his phone that he won't listen to. He knew that he deserved whatever Evan wanted to throw at him, and that he needed to listen to them. To answer the phone the next time he called. To bleed himself dry on whatever accusations Evan sent his way. Evan deserved better than whatever shards of himself Tommy had managed to spackle together over the last seven years. Those broken edges kept rubbing up against each other whenever he closed his eyes, cutting him open in new and unexpected ways. Evan deserved someone who wasn't a landmine waiting to go off the second the wrong pressure was applied. He'd wanted to give Evan the fairytale first relationship he wished he'd gotten. That he hadn't been able to was just more proof that he wasn't the guy that Evan deserved.

"Pretty sure I've nailed hookups in bar bathrooms," Evan told him, leaning back. Tommy could practically feel the weight of his stare. "But to be fair, I had that one on lock even before I kissed a man." Tommy laughed, strangled. "Take a minute and catch your breath before you go back out there." Evan's hand landed heavy on Tommy's shoulder. "Thanks for the fun time, Shawn." Tommy waited five minutes before he went back out to his table with Casey. If he ever ran into Shawn, Tommy might kill him. Casey looked Tommy up and down, checking his watch in an exaggerated gesture. "You okay there, buddy?" "Yeah." Tommy shrugged.

[rcmclachlan]

For the wip title game: post-doheny park alt meeting?

I should've mentioned this in the previous one, but I started writing this one before the S8 premiere. Then 8x06 sucked all the fun out of it and I ended up leaving it alone for a while, but since everything's made up and the points don't matter, it's so back baybeeeee!

The call picks up on the third ring and a friendly voice carols over the speaker, "Thank you for calling Kinard Air: We're not happy 'til you're not happy. This is Tommy speaking, how may I help you?"

"You really thought you could just dine and dash on us, Kinard?" Hen asks with the tone of someone who is incredibly offended. It's ruined by how hard she's grinning.

Bobby's turnouts squeak as he twists around in his seat, a startled smile curving his mouth and his eyebrows practically kissing his hairline. It seems like of all the voices in the world that could've come out of Hen's phone, he hadn't been expecting that one.

Buck throws Eddie a glance in askance, but all he gets back is a confused shrug.

The speaker crackles a little under the force of the guy's laugh, which is so infectious that a smile unexpectedly erupts on Buck's face. Some people are just like that. Maddie's one of those people: if she's smiling, so is everyone else around her.

"I think that was more of a deluge and dash," Tommy Kinard says cheerfully. "Did it do the trick? I dumped the whole payload, but there are a bunch of ingrounds below me if you need me to swing back for another go. I don't mind ruining Ashley Baxter's pool party for the greater good."

"Ashley Baxter?"

Hen swats at Buck's face when he crowds in close to hear better. He shrugs at the side-eye she gives him. Her friend just saved their asses and he sounds like a really cool guy, plus his voice is making something ping pleasantly in Buck's brain, the way a radio DJ with a deep register does sometimes. Maybe he's got a podcast.

"My least favorite teammate's kid, who's been whining all week about wanting her 13th birthday to go viral. I think I can help her out."

wip titles game

[fuctacles]

*puts mouth on microphone* I would like to ask about single dad steve for WIP title game please

hahah, can you believe i wrote this over a year ago, then promptly went 5k deep into the continuation and immediately forgot about it? bonkers. hahah. Here's a part of it. And here's the next part.

Just as Steve expected, his neighbors started giving him the stink eye as soon as they got wind of what was happening in his garage. Eddie even offered to close it up not to make a scene but Steve protested the idea. Said he’s not going to let himself be terrorized in his own home and more so won’t let his guests suffocate in a closed garage.

Every Tuesday Steve was preparing dinner to the sound of metal vibrating through the walls. When he got a free moment, waiting for the water to boil or the oven to heat up, he would step into the little rehearsal space.

Corroded Coffin was just an arm’s reach away whenever he felt like listening in. He just had to open the door and could sit on one of the steps leading into the garage. The guys played many original songs but just as many covers, some of which Steve recognized. He has always been a pop guy himself, but both Billy and Max liked some harsher music. It grew on him regardless if he liked it or not.

And watching them play felt amazing. Sometimes, between being a single parent and owning a hair salon, he felt older than he actually was. But right outside his door, in his space, there were four guys his age, jumping around the garage with contagious energy and playing songs from simpler times. He found himself tapping his foot to a cover of Queen. To think that at first, he was hesitant to let them practice here. Now it was a highlight of his week.

Max’s teacher, Eddie, was jumping around like it was a real stage, not a cramped square of stone flooring. He was the lead guitarist, which Steve knew thanks to his kid’s lengthy ramblings about her teacher. The guy also did most of the singing, but all of them joined in, depending on the song. It was clear though who was the frontman of their band.

They were playing an especially energetic song tonight, one that left Steve bopping his head happily. The members of Corroded Coffin shared the sentiment, jumping around and swooshing their fairly impressive manes of hair.

Eddie noticed him halfway through the song and grinned like he always did. Steve grinned back, genuinely happy for being able to have his own little show in the cookie-cutter cul-de-sac in the middle of the day.

But the music teacher didn’t stop there. He approached the steps Steve was sitting on and motioned him to join them. Steve looked at him with confusion and Eddie used the seconds-long break in his part of the song to pull him up. He fumbled for a second but the overall energy and Munson’s feral grin loosened him enough that he let himself be crash-coursed into headbanging.

He hasn’t felt more alive in years.

Eddie played his guitar, jumping around Steve and throwing his hair around. Most of the singing in this song was done by Jeff so besides playing the guitar he could do as much of a show as he wanted. When the track came to an end, they were both panting, leaning into each other and grinning. Steve couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped him.

“Have I told you guys how great you are yet?”

“Only every Tuesday!” Gareth piped up from behind his drums, grinning. Eddie laughed as well.

“Didn’t know it was your scene, Harrington,” Eddie teased with a glint in his eye. Steve shrugged.

“Picked up some stuff from my ex,” he explained shortly.

Eddie quirked up his eyebrow with interest, strumming his guitar softly.

“Was she a metalhead or something?”

Steve observed him for a second, considering if he should correct him. It’s been already a month since they first met and the initial interest he had in the musician was only growing. Maybe it was a good idea to come out and test the waters. Worst case scenario he would have enough of a reason to drop this feeling before it turned into something more.

“He had a thing for classic rock.”

A look of surprise passed through the man’s face. He quickly schooled it into something friendly, but Steve could tell there were a million questions buzzing beneath.

“I see. Well, great to see some of the Hawkins folks educated,” he grinned, and it was genuine enough that Steve knew he didn’t have to worry about any kind of prejudice. He did a cursory glance around the other band members but they either weren’t listening or didn’t care about his impromptu coming out. Some of the tension seeped out of his bones. He motioned to the steps he just abandoned.

“I have some coke if you’re interested.”

Eddie’s features softened.

“Dude, you’re letting us use the garage, we should be treating you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Either you drink it or Max and you don’t want to see her on this amount of caffeine.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, and it warmed Steve all over knowing he caused it.

“Okay, fair. Thank you, then,” he smiled genuinely, disarming Steve.

They had the sodas while Steve came back to the kitchen to cook the pasta. He was still waiting for Max to come back from school too. She had basketball practice that day, which she picked up in honor of her brother, after bullying the teachers long enough to put together a small team of girls to play. The dead brother spiel worked in her favor of course. 

When the dinner was mostly ready, he stepped back into the garage, expecting another song he didn’t recognize, but instead, Eddie looked up at him, barely breaking out of their idle jamming.

“Do you know the words to Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

Steve frowned, taken aback by the abrupt question.

“I think so?” he answered hesitantly.

“Sweet,” Eddie grinned back at him. “Wanna sing for us?”

“Uh,” he hesitated, taken aback.

“C’mon, we’ll sing together,” Eddie offered and Steve hesitantly nodded. Eddie didn’t waste time and pulled him to the mic standing in the middle. It was the only one they had, rotating between Eddie and Jeff.

The familiar notes played around him and nudged with the metalhead's arm right against his, he joined him in singing.

Eddie’s voice was breathy from exertion, from playing for the past hour and jumping around. But here was a gleam in his eye, a delight from playing and maybe, maybe, from Steve agreeing to join them.

When the chorus came on, Steve felt confident enough to hip-check him out of the way and hoard the microphone for himself, He could hear Eddie cackling next to him, but he was now focused on singing and enjoying himself.

The song ended with cheers and a distant clapping. Someone whistled and Steve noticed Max applauding from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, if you’d want to sing for us sometimes, hit us up,” Jeff threw his arm around him. “You’re good,” he praised and Steve grinned his thanks.

Before he could say anything else though, someone was punching him in the ribs. He winced, knowing full well who it might be.

“You’re supposed to be my father, not a cool dude.”

Steve frowned.

“I don’t see how I can’t be both.”

“It’s a well-known natural order,” Eddie chimed in unprompted. “Parents can’t be cool.”

“Huh. Then I guess I should give you up,” he said, mock-seriously, making Max roll her eyes.

“Suuure, after all the legal shit we’ve been through,” she scoffed, looking at him in that way only teenagers could.

“Well, I think all the natural rules of a normal family are above us anyway, don’t you think?’ he raised his eyebrows, making Max smirk devilishly.

“Hell yeah. Fuck the rules.”

Steve pressed his lips not to scold her for language, but he looked to the side where, as he expected, Eddie was donning his proud teacher look. It warmed him up inside.

“Fuck the rules indeed, Red,” he grinned, holding his hand out for a high five,

Steve shook his head before gathering Max towards the kitchen.

“You guys keep it up, Max and I are gonna have dinner. Yell if you need anything.”

“Actually,” Eddie started, making both Harringtons turn in interest. “We have a show on Saturday if you guys wanna come.”

“Can I?” Max asked immediately, eyes darting between her teacher and Steve.

“We don’t usually have an audience this young, but with a guardian, it’s not gonna be a problem,” said Eddie, turning his gaze to Steve. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I usually work on the weekends, but I guess we could drop by.”

Max whooped happily and Steve couldn’t help but smile himself. He actually really wanted to see Eddie on stage, if he was anything like he saw today it would be a treat to witness.

“See you at the Hideout at 8 PM then,” Eddie grinned at them before they retreated to the kitchen.

At the table, Max eyed Steve with curiosity, pushing the broccoli on her plate out of the way. He was chewing with a distant look on his face, a foot tapping to the beat coming faintly from the closed door.

“The Hideout is a kinda shady place, don’t you think?”

Steve made a noncommittal grunt and shrugged before finally focusing his gaze on her. He frowned, cocking his head.

“Do you not wanna go?”

She scoffed, getting angry for something Steve couldn’t grasp.

“Do you want me to go?”

His frown deepened as he straightened up.

“Okay, wait. Do I want you to go to a concert with me? A concert we were invited to by your music teacher?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to find a hole in the idea.

“A metal concert. In a bar,” she pointed out, squinting at him. He squinted right back.

“So? You’ll be with me. I can get a leash if you’re insinuating you’re gonna cause problems.”

She puffed her cheeks, raising her hands.

“No insinuating here,” she assured. “Just, it’s not very,” she waved her hand. “Responsible parent of you.”

“No, but a very cool parent, I hope.”

“In your dreams”, she scoffed.

He smiled at her. She didn’t question his decision anymore, but Steve could feel her gaze on him later when they waved the band goodbye.