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mamaestapa · 1 year

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Can You Keep a Secret?

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: You wake up beside your brothers best friend and wonder what happened the night before. While you’re at Joe’s, you get a call from Sam saying he’s going to be at your place soon…can you keep Joe a secret from Sam?

•word count: 6.1k (combined a couple short chapters to make one long one. you’re welcome;)

•warnings: Language, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, hangovers, mentions of sex/unprotected sex, condoms, um maybe a daddy kink? (HEY LISTEN-) i think that’s all…

series masterlist

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December 18, 2022

pre-pregnancy

"Ow…” you croaked out, your voice hoarse from waking up and from the night before. You scrunched your eyelids shut and let out a low groan as the bright, morning sunlight glared into your eyes.

You absolutely hate hangovers. They’re the worst, especially after about four glasses of wine. You swear those hangovers from wine mixed with some tequila are the absolute worst. With your head still pounding, you slightly open your eyelids more after noticing a dull ache in your legs as you stretched them. Huh? That’s funny... I never get leg cramps from hangovers? You thought to yourself. Suddenly your eyes shot open, and you were wide awake. You noticed you had no clothes on, and you mean none at all. Which, you usually sleep in at least a long shirt and panties, so you found it odd you were completely naked. You sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet up with you to cover yourself. You looked around the room and realized you definitely weren’t in your room. You were totally unaware of your surroundings, until it finally dawned on you…

"Oh shit..." you said, rubbing your hands down your face. You rubbed your eyes and hoped once you stopped you’d wake up and realize it was all a dream. You took your hands away from your face, hopeful that you’d find yourself in your own room when you opened your eyes. However, your hopes were crushed. You let out a heavy sigh as the memories from last night came back in full force.

"Oh my god...” you groaned out, totally in denial, “I, we did not..." You slowly turned your head and looked to the left side of the bed. Sure enough, there he was. Joe Burrow was laying there, shirtless and sound asleep. You had a look of shock and worry plastered on your face as you looked at his sleeping figure. All of a sudden, you jumped out of the bed, ripping the comforter off with you. You wrapped it around your, naked body to cover yourself as you attempted to find, and put on your bra and panties from the night before. You successfully found your bra in a pile of Joe’s clothes that lay on the floor by the foot of the bed. However, your panties were nowhere to be found.

Joe jumped up at the sudden movement of the heavy comforter being taken off of his body. He made a face when he too noticed the glare from the Cincinnati sun peeking through the blinds of his room. Your eyes traveled down his body. You immediately noticed the he was also naked. No clothes, nothing. Joe looked down and let out a yelp, horrified that his dick was uncovered. He quickly moved his hands from his sides so they could shield his manhood instead.

You couldn't help but laugh at his actions. It’s not like you hadn't seen it before. After all, you apparently did see all of him last night.

Joe’s eyes traveled from his hands to the empty side of the bed before they finally fell on you, standing off to the side and wrapped in the white duvet. He quickly grabbed the sheet he was laying on and pulled it up over his legs, letting it rest on his waist in order to cover himself. Joe moved one of his hands up to his face, rubbing at his temples.

"Fuck...did we.." he trailed off, looking up at you with a grimace on his face.

You gulped nervously, "Yup. It’s looking like we did."

Joe winced as you shifted uncomfortably. You instantly regretted your decision to move though when you felt that dull ache in your thighs once again.

"It feels like it too..." you winced as you shifted yourself once again, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt you.

Joe’s grimace turned to an amused smirk, "Oooh, really?” he teased, “I didn't know we banged that hard."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "C’mon Joe, this isn't funny."

Joe shrugged, "I mean, it kinda is,” he looked at you as he did that thing with his tongue to the inside of his mouth that all guys do. A sort of arrogance dripping from his tone as he said, “I fucked you so hard Y/n that you can't even walk."

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, soon wincing once again when you tried moving. Joe’s demeanor immediately softened as if he had a sudden change of heart.

"Awe, Y/n, I’m sorry." he grimaced, "you can come sit down again, maybe that'll help?"

You nodded, accepting his offer, “Okay, yeah." you slowly moved back down to the bed, re-wrapping the comforter around your body as you sat down.

"I didn't mean to hurt you Y/n, I’m so sorry."

You giggled lightly, "It’s OK. I’m just a little sore, but honestly...” your voice lowered, “I’ve never felt this good in my life."

Joe’s chest rumbled with laughter, "Oh, really?” he raised his eyebrows in amusement, “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment." There was a moment of silence, before Joe broke it, "If it makes you feel any better, from what I can remember, you were amazing too..."

You laughed, "Ooh, really?” copying Joe’s amused response, “thank you, babe."

Babe. You didn't even realize you said it until after you said it. Yeah you call Tee and Ja’Marr 'babe' sometimes, but this was different. Much different. Because you’ve never hooked up with them before, and you call them 'babe' in a friendly way. With Joe, it just felt different, foreign even!

"Sooo..." he trailed off, "what do we do now?"

You sighed. Your head was throbbing terribly. “Nothing yet. Just stay in bed for a bit because I have the worst headache..."

Joe chuckled, "Me too.."

The two of you sat in silence, enjoying each others company. When all of a sudden you sat up and let out a loud gasp. Joe furrowed his brows as he sat up with you, “What?"

Your eyes widened. "Uh...Joe?” you felt a pit in your stomach as you thought the worst, “did you uh...you know?"

He looked at you, expecting you to continue, "Did i 'uh what' ?"

You bit your bottom lip, drawing a little bit of blood in the process, “Did you use protection?"

Joe just stared straight ahead. You swear you could see all of the color in his face drain. He cleared his throat, "Um, I uh...I can't remember.” he fiddle with the bracelets on his wrist, “but I don't think I did.”

"Joe!?,” you screeched, making the blonde wince, “how could you not have? Why-what!?" You were stunned that he couldn’t remember to use a condom.

Joe threw his hands up in the air, "We were drunk,Y/n! Almost blackout drunk at that. We both had too many drinks last night, and I don't know about you, but I’m really not remembering much of what happened.”

You were fuming. How could the two of you forget about the condom!? Your anger soon died down though when you realized that you wouldn't have to worry about anything. Thankfully, you’re on the pill.

"Oh thank god." you sighed in relief, feeling a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"What? Did you remember if we used one?”

You couldn't help but giggle, "No, but I do remember that I’m on birth control, so we should be just fine."

Joe rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his chest as he let out the breath he’d been holding, “Good. I am not ready to be a daddy yet."

You laughed and reached out to pat his hand that was laying on the bed next to you, “well, you won't have to worry about that with me,"a playful smirk pulled at your lips, “no bun will be in this oven like Zac was worried about last night."

Joe just shook his head and chuckled. You looked at the alarm clock that was on his nightstand, deciding to see what time it was.

11:25

You groaned as you sat up further in the bed. Your head still throbbing as you ran a hand over your face. You let out a sigh.

"i should probably get going..." you trailed off, awkwardly fumbling with your fingers. You were never good at the “morning after” thing. Especially in this situation where it’s your brothers best friend.

Joe propped himself up on one arm, looking at you with a hint of disappointment, “Are you sure? At least let me cook you breakfast and get you some tylenol. Maybe even a shower?" he offered.

You hesitated, unsure if you should take him up on the offer or just leave and never speak to Joe again. You knew it would be quite impossible to never speak to Joe again due to your job, plus the damage was already done…

You smiled softly, making your decision, “I’d like that, thank you Joe."

He smiled, "Of course, it's the least I could do. Especially after hurting you,” he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “which, I’m really sorry about."

You smiled softly, "It’s all good Joe, don't worry. I’ll be fine,” you smirked, “i just won't be able to walk straight for a couple hours."

Joe chuckled, "If you say so. And hey, that just gives me an excuse to carry you down the stairs again.”

He moved to scoop you up in his arms, but he abruptly stopped, “Wait, let me put some pants on first."

You giggled, "That might be a good idea."

Joe chuckled and grabbed the sheet once again, shielding himself from you. He wrapped it around his waist as he got out of his bed. You watched as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out clean underwear, a pair of grey sweatpants, and an old purple LSU Tigers t-shirt. He tossed you the pair of sweatpants and the shirt.

You caught them midair, a triumphant smile on your face that made Joe smile. He walked into the bathroom to change, but he stopped in the doorway and turned on his heels to look at you. "Do you want to change in the bathroom? I’ll let you, if you don't want to change out here."

“Either works for me.” You said with a nod.

Joe smiled, tightly. "How about this,” he pointed behind him, “take a shower to maybe help with the headache, then i'll just change out there. Sound good?"

You smiled, giving him a thumbs up. "yes, dadd-I mean," you coughed, "Joe, Joe."

Your face began to turn crimson as you almost called Joe “daddy”. Joe chuckled, "Don’t worry Y/n, that's not the first time you've said that."

“I-." you began saying, but the embarrassment took over and you were at a loss for words.

Joe smirked, "Well, I’ll leave you to it. There’s towels in the cabinet next to the toilet, and i'm pretty sure there's some women's soap under the sink if you'd rather use that."

You smiled, "Thank you, Joe."

"Yeah, no problem,” he nodded, sucking in a breath, “if you need anything, just holler. I’ll be out here."

You got up from the bed and made your way to the bathroom. Joe stepped out your way and shut the door for you as you walked in. You set the clothes he had given you on the sink counter. You then realized you had no underwear. You contemplated on what to do, before ultimately deciding to call Joe’s name. "Hey Joe!?"

"What’s up!?" he called from the other side of the door.

"I uh,” you started, “I don't have any panties. Can you go find mine from last night for me? Please?..."

You heard a soft chuckle come from Joe, “Yeah, sure. Just give me sec!"

You smiled as you called out, “Thanks!"

There was a moment of silence before you heard a knock on the door. You opened it slightly, only peeking through to grab your panties. However, Joe had moved his arm inside the door first, holding out a pair of...boxers?

"I couldn't find your panties..." he trailed off. "and I assumed you'd want something clean anyways,” his eyes widened as he realized what he just said, “not saying you aren't clean! It’s just, I personally would want something clean after creaming my- never mind. Anyways,” he breathed out, “I just brought you a pair of mine instead."

You smiled behind the door, knowing Joe was probably smiling sheepishly on the other side. Youbgrabbed the boxers from him.

“Thank you Joe,” you said, appreciating his act.

"You’re welcome. Now, enjoy your shower. I’ll be waiting downstairs with breakfast, and tylenol." He carefully closed the door behind him. You dropped the comforter off from your body and turned the shower on. Joe’s bathroom was huge—much bigger and nicer than yours. It had marble counter tops, a double vanity, and the shower was a walk in instead of a tub like yours. You grabbed a towel, placing it on the floor by the shower door. You were about to step in when you remembered Joe saying something about how he had women's soap in the cabinet under the sink. You decided to grab that, not wanting to smell like head and shoulders for days. You opened the cupboard and found whole blends coconut shampoo and conditioner, along with lavender body wash, and a box of tampons.

“Awe, what a sweetheart." You gushed to yourself. You grabbed the soaps and got in the shower. You began to rinse yourself off in the steaming hot shower, already feeling your hangover start to disappear.

~time skip~

You winced as you stepped out of the shower, the dull ache still lingering in your thighs. You pushed through the pain and got dressed. You pulled the shirt over your head and flattening it out over your body. It came down to just above below your mid thigh. Short enough where it didn’t look like it swallowed you up, but long enough where you didn’t need pants. Once satisfied with your outfit, which you found super comfortable, you decided to do your hair, throwing it up into a messy bun while it was still damp. You grabbed the comforter and towel from the floor, walking out of Joe’s bathroom and throwing the comforter on the bed while keeping the towel in your hand. You walked out of his room and made my way downstairs. Surprisingly, you were able to make your way down the steps without your legs giving out on you. As you walked down the hall to where you assumed the kitchen was, your nostrils were hit with the wonderful smell of bacon. You followed the delightful smell all the way into the kitchen. When you walked in, legs slightly wobbly, you were greeted by a shirtless Joe standing next to a skillet, frying up some scrambled eggs.

"It smells delicious in here!" you exclaimed.

Joe turned around smiling at you, "Thanks. How was your shower?"

You hummed, “Good. It really helped with my headache.”

Joe took a sip of his orange juice, "That’s good,” he pointed to a barstool, “here, sit down, i'll get you some breakfast. Coffee or OJ?" he asked, reaching for glass.

As much as you love coffee, you could use a good cup of orange juice. "I’ll take a cup of orange juice, please."

"Yes ma'am." he said, grabbing the carton of orange juice and filling a glass up. Joe handed you the glass, "Thanks." you smiled, sitting down down on the barstool. Joe turned back to the skillet, turning off the burner. He filled two plates up with eggs, bacon, mixed fruit, finishing them off with two tylenol pills for each plate. He grabbed both of the plates, and sat them down on the island.

"There you go, Y/n." he said, sitting down next to you.

"Thank you,” you smiled, “do you always cook breakfast for your hookups?" you jokingly inquired, although you were a little curious.

Joe smirked, "Only for the special ones, or the ones whose last name is 'Hubbard'."

Your cheeks flushed. You still can’t believe you hooked up with, slept in the same bed, showered in the same shower, and ate breakfast with your brothers best friend. Your eyes widened at what he said, “Wait...what!?"

"What?"

You shook your head, "No-nothing. Nevermind" you giggled to yourself, leaving Joe confused. You smiled at him, taking a bite of the eggs. "Ugh, these are delicious.”

"Thank you, they're made with eggs, cheese, and a whole lotta love." He winked.

You rolled your eyes, "Love huh?"

Joe bit down on a piece of bacon, "Yup. But not as much love as I put into my grilled chicken. If you think these eggs are good, you need to try my chicken. It’s delicious."

You both chuckled and went back to enjoying your breakfast.

"Sooo..." Joe trailed off, clearing his throat. "where do we go from here?"

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of what to say. You weren’t totally sure how you felt about Joe, or if he even had feelings for you. Last night was just a drunken hookup. A no strings attached thing for both you and him. But there was something about Joe that you were naturally drawn to. As much as it would be wonderful if you could work something out, you just can't. You have to keep things professional. Plus, Sam would kill you if you ever dated Joe.

"Well, I guess we just go back to what we were before? Friends... who may or may not have hooked up." you said, letting out a little laugh at the end of your sentence

Joe chuckled. You swore you saw a hint of disappointment flash in his baby blue eyes. "Yeah, I guess you're right. after all, we were drunk as fuck. Had we been sober, we wouldn't even have to have this conversation, huh?"

You took that statement as clarification for his feelings towards you. It was good to know how Joe felt, even if he didn't flat out say it. Deep down you knew what he meant by those words, but oddly enough a part of you wanted to believe he felt differently after seeing the slight disappointment in his eyes.

"That’s true, very true,” you nodded. You looked over at Joe with a soft smile, “but hey, I had a lot of fun last night Joe, so thank you."

Joe turned to you, smiling slightly. "Of course. I had a lot fun last night too, but I had even more fun during the after party if you know what I mean."

You shook your head, chuckling, “Oh god, you're such a dork," you paused, a smirk pulling at your lips as you said, “I had a lot of fun at the after party too."

Joe smiled tightly and placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. You felt comforted by the touch of his hand on your shoulder. He squeezed you gently before getting up from the barstool and grabbing your empty plates. You looked at your phone and saw that you had a text from Sam that was sent five minutes ago.

Sam- Hey. I’m stopping by in a few to drop some stuff off from Zac. He gave them to me last night and said he needed it done from you by the monday you come back to work. See you in a bit!

Your eyes widen as you glanced through the message, only picking up the part that said Sam would be over to your place soon.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, making Joe turn his attention to you.

“What’s wrong?"

You sighed, jumping up from the barstool, "Sam said he'll be at my apartment soon, like really soon, and I’m not there. I’m here,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, “so if it's not too much to ask, could you take me home, please?"

Joe nodded, "Yeah, of course I can. Let me grab my keys real quick."

You smiled, “Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer, I just don't want Sam to be suspicious of anything."

"It’s no problem,” Joe said as he shrugged his shoulders, “besides, there's always next time." he winked. You wish you could say you knew he was joking, but in that moment, you truly couldn't tell if he was or not.

"C’mon, let's go. You don't want to be late meeting someone at your own apartment do you? Joe teased.

"Haha,” you said dryly, following Joe out of his house. He locked the door and jogged over to the drivers side of the car, as you hustled over to the passenger side, careful not to slip on any ice. The two of you put your seatbelts on, making sure you heard the click before taking off to your apartment and hopefully beating Sam there.

~time skip~

About 15 minutes later, you and Joe pulled into your apartment complex. He parked along the side of the street and stopped the car, pulling the keys out of the ignition to turn the car off.

"Uhhh, what are you doing?" You asked him, unsure why he was turning the car off if he was just dropping you off.

"Going in with you?..." He asked, eyebrows raised as if it were obvious.

"Why?!" you asked beginning to panic. Sam cant see you with Joe.

Joe laughed incredulously, "Uh, because I want to say hi to Sam? I mean, he is my best friend, so-."

"No!” you cut him off, holding out a hand in front of you, “you can't."

Joe crossed his arms over his chest. "Why? Give me one good reason, Y/n."

You scoffed, “Oh cmon, don't give me that bullshit. You know why!"

"No, I don't! Enlighten me, please."

You sighed, lightly smacking your forehead at his stupidity. "Because Joe, Sam is my brother. You are his best friend, and if Sam sees that you're over at my apartment, and that you brought me home, he's going to think that's a little suspicious don't you think? Because you and I never hangout with eachother alone."

Joe raised his eyebrows and shrugged, "I guess you do have a point."

You smiled, "See? Thank you."

"So don't tell Sam?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes,” you nod, “don't tell Sam.”

"Gotcha. My lips are zipped. but i'm still coming up with you." he said as he got out of his Benz.

"Okay, fine,” you sighed in defeat, “but Sam can't know you're there."

There was no way you would win that argument with Joe. You give in way too easily, so you decided to let him come up to my home. The two of you made your way into the elevator, you pressed the 2 button after stepping in.

"Plus," Joe began, "It’s only fair that I get to see your apartment after you saw my house."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "How is that fair, Joe? Me seeing your house last night...doesn't count."

Joe chuckled, "Mhm, sure. Whatever you say, Hubbard."

The elevator came to a stop and you were now on level 2 of the apartment complex. You stepped out first to lead the way to your apartment since Joe didn't know which one it was. You walked about halfway down the long hallway before you came to a halt down at door 216.

"Here we are,” you smiled, holding your arms out showcasing the door. You heard Joe chuckle as you unlocked the door. The two of you stepped into your apartment—which you thought was a complete downgrade from Joe’s million dollar home, but hey, this is your home and you love it.

"I know it's not super nice, it's also pretty messy...but this is my apartment."

Joe smiled, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked around the apartment.

"it's nice Y/n, I love what you've done with the place, really."

You blushed, "Thanks." you looked down at your feet and realized you were still in Joe’s clothes.

"AH! I need to change,” you yelped. running for your bedroom.

Joe walked with you, "Why?"

You turned to look at him. "Because I’m wearing your shirt?! And if Sam sees that I’m in-.”

A knock at your front door interrupted your current conversation with Joe.

Your hands flew up in the air. "Shit, coming!" you yelled. You walked over to the door, and saw that you had a sweatshirt laying on the counter. You threw it on over your body, trying to hide the fact that you had one of Joe’s shirts on. There was another knock before Sam said, "Y/n?"

You hastily looked around the room, "Uhh, one sec!" You found a pair of shorts laying in the unfolded pile of laundry on your couch. You quickly pulled them on, turning to Joe, "Go hide in my room!" you whisper yelled.

"Wha- your room? As long as you promise you'll be in there with me soon. Maybe bring some whipped cream and blind fold while you’re at it.”

You rolled your eyes, "Shut it, now is not the time to be kinky." you gently pushed him into your bedroom, shutting the door quickly once he was in the room. You ran over to the front door, opening it and forcing a smile, “Hey, Sam!"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Hey, Y/n? Something wrong?"

"What? No, why would you ask that?" Your voice was slightly raised an octave higher than usual. Hopefully Sam doesn’t notice…Oh cut the shit, Y/n. You are being SO obvious right now, just play it cool. You thought to yourself.

Sam chuckled, "Because you have the same tone you did when you denied hooking up with Coach Tay-nevermind." he shook the thought off.

You pointed your finger at him, "Hey! You said you would never speak about that again. Plus, we didn't even hook up. It was just a uh, a…passionate kiss. But that's not even relevant, we're not going to ever bring that up again."

Sam burst out in laughter, "Ha! Okay, whatever you say. Because according to Zac it was more than that."

You gasped, "He told you about that?!"

"Yeah? He told a few of us last night."

"Oh god..." you trailed off, "he was drunk. It was just a kiss. I’m sure he really sugar coated it though."

Sam shrugged, "True, some of it did seem very, how do i put it, off..."

You sighed. Great. Just what you needed to hear. About the Zac Taylor issue...which you will never speak of again. It happened on your first day of work a couple years ago, but he’s happily married now, and blah, blah, blah, now, moving on. You sat down on your couch, "So, what did you need to bring over?"

Sam handed you a couple files, "Zac needs these by Monday after the holidays. He said It’s just some information he needs added to all our team social media pages, shouldnt take too long."

You nodded, "Oh okay,” you glanced through the pieces of paper, “yeah this won't take me long at all."

Suddenly you heard something fall. Your face went pale as you realized the sound came from your room. Joe. You thought. Sam whipped his head around and looked towards the direction of your room. "What the hell?"

"Uh, I left my window open, maybe the breeze picked up and made something fall?”

“You have your window open, in the middle of December, in Cincinnati?”

You shrugged, “I was hot.”

Sam just nodded, "Uh huh,” he decided to change the subject, “so, was the hangover as bad as i said it was going to be?"

You groaned, "Oh, you don't even know. It was absolutely horrible this morning. My head was throbbing, my legs-, I mean, it was just bad."

"I told you it was going to be bad. They’re always bad after a party at Taylor’s. I swear he puts something in those drinks." Sam laughed.

You giggled, "I think he does too, did you see the way he was shaking his ass last night?"

Sam threw his head back, laughing. "No, no I didn't. Was it bad?"

"Oh it was horrible, but yet it was so funny."

Sam snapped his fingers, "Damn it, I’m kinda mad I missed that. Hey, that would've been great to post on the teams instagram page though."

You snorted out a laugh, “Oh god no, children follow that account, they would be scarred for life! Hell, I’m scarred for life after seeing that.”

Sam laughed along as you spoke. His laughter died down and he cleared his throat, “I’m assuming you made it home alright then?"

I didn’t even make it home last night, I was too busy screwing your best friend. You thought to yourself.

"Yep,” you smiled, “Tee brought me home."

Sam nodded, "Good. Well, I hope you had fun last night, those parties do tend get pretty insane."

“That they do. but i had a blast. It definitely won't be the last team get together I attended."

Sam smiled, he was about to say something when his phone dinged. You saw him smile to himself, before texting back to whoever messaged him. You assumed it was Emma based on the way a smile tugged at his lips, and a rose tint had appeared on his cheeks.

After sending the text, he looked up at me, standing up. "I gotta go, Emma just texted me and asked if I wanted to get lunch with her before her appointment.”

"Awe, how sweet. Have fun!" you gushed.

Sam smirked, "Oh I will, don't worry."

He stood up, and walked over to the door. Stopping in his tracks he turned to you, "You haven't happened to see Joe around here have you? His cars parked out on the side of the road."

You shook your head, "Burrow? I haven’t seen him. Maybe he's at Ja’Marrs?”

"Oh, yeah, probably. Ja’Marr did say something about him coming over today,” he continued, "I was just wondering if you'd seen him because I wanted to say hi since I didn't really have time to talk to him last night."

"Why didn't you talk to him much last night?" you asked, trying to hide the worry that was evident in your voice. You prayed that’s Sam didn’t know about you and Joe hooking up.

"Because I left early,” he shrugged, “usually Joe and I hang out at Zac’s parties, but I didn't stay as long as I usually do." he explained.

You mentally let out a sigh of relief. You were starting to get worried he somehow found out about you and Joe at the party last night. If Joe heard about, or god forbid he saw you grinding on Joe, it would not be pretty…

"Ahh,” you mused, “makes sense."

"Well, I’m gonna head out. I’ve got a beautiful lady waiting for me." Sam winked.

You smiled and followed him out the door, leaning against the doorway, “Bye Sammy. Have fun. Oh, and tell Emma I said hi.”

He waved goodbye, "Thanks, I will! Hey, we’ll see you on Christmas."

You smiled, "See you on Christmas!" As Sam disappeared down the hall, you shut the door. You walked back into the living room.

"Hey Joe, you can come out now.”

You heard your bedroom door creak open. Joe walked out, shutting the door behind him.

"I’m so sorry about that noise. I accidentally dropped your candle."

"The almond one?" You asked, placing your hands on your hips.

"Yeah. It looked like it smelled really good, so I just picked it up to smell it, and I dropped it."

"I thought you were supposed to have a good grip? You know, being a quarterback and all." You joked.

"Hey! I have excellent grip, thank you very much."

"Mhm, sure." you chuckled, as Joe rolled his eyes at you. It was true though, Joe does have excellent grip.

Joe scoffed, "Whatever. Was Sam suspicious about anything?"

You shook your head as you crossed your arms, “Thankfully, no."

Joe sighed, "Whew, good. I was a little worried when he brought my name up."

"Me too,” you admitted, “I was just waiting for him to say he found out."

"Oh also, Y/n..."

You perked your head up, "Yeah?"

"What’s this about you and Coach Taylor?"

"Nothing. It was nothing." You said quickly, not wanting to discuss it. Joe chuckled, "Yeah, sounds like it was nothing."

You sighed and shook your head, “Look, it was my first day, I was nervous. I thought he looked, I don’t know, good, it was just a kiss!"

"You thought he looked hot?! Oh I’m totally telling him."

Your eyes widened. You never said that! “No! Please don't, Oh god, I’ll lose my job,please-."

"Y/n, I was just joking. Inwon't tell him." Joe chuckled.

You blushed, "Good.“

Joe’s phone went off, his shoulders fell after he read the message.

"What’s wrong?" You asked, concerned about his sudden change in demeanor.

"Coach just made a last minute practice.”

You frowned, “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to the front door, “it does, but it’s the only way we’ll get better.”

You smiled softly. He did have a point. “That’s true

Joe made his way out of your apartment. you stood in the doorway, just like you did when you were saying goodbye to Sam.

"Have fun at practice, and good luck at your game later this week. You’re going to do great, I know it. You always do,” you finished with a sweet smile.

"I will, don't you worry." he paused, "But hey, thanks Y/n. Thank you for your encouragement and for last night too." he smirked.

"No problem,” you smiled, “thank you for last night. But seriously, please. Don’t let anything slip. Nobody can know we slept together."

"Trust me, I know. Let’s just put it behind us. deal?" He asked, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You looked at Joe’s hand, noticing the bulging vein that ran from his hand and up his arm as you shook it. "Deal."

Your heart slightly dropped as youbsaid the word 'deal'.

"Bye Y/n, if I don't see you before, I’ll see you at Paycor after the holidays. I hope you have a Merry Christmas." Joe said, smiling softly.

"Thank you, you too,” you said softly, “I’ll see you that Monday.

Joe nodded. He walked out of your apartment, turning around to wave as he walked down the hall. You walked back into your apartment and shut the door. You were so ready for the holidays.

But little did you know once the holidays were over, your life will be turned completely upside down…

hey loves!

i am loving re-writing this story. it's so much fun to write and i can’t wait for you all to read more chapters !

this next chapter will have a bit of a time jump as we start to get into the plot of this story. like i’ve mentioned, it’s almost exact to the version on wattpad, but i will be changing up a few things on here to make them different ;)

also, just a heads up, the pregnancy stuff may not be totally accurate. i’ve never been pregnant before, so this is all stuff i’ve heard from others or what i found on the internet lol

i won’t be updating this again UNTIL i finish a chapter of welcome to the jungle. that series is my main priority right now because i’m so close to being finished with it! so if you read welcome to the jungle too, i promise an update is coming soon!😚

thank you again for all of your love and support🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @joyfulfrienddonkeybanana @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @emherb10

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #daddy issues #joe burrow fan fic

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21st-century-ninja · 10 months

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Fic rec week: Angst/Kai

Kai time kai time kai time!!! the blorbo supreme and let's start off with a fic that's both angst and Kai-centric, she was my sister before she was your lover by @kuviras-eyeliner!

For as long as he could remember, Jay was the emotional one. Kai knew it like the back of his hand, so obviously, it was expected that Jay would express more grief than everyone else regarding Nya's death. And Kai knew from losing so many in the past, that instead of spiraling, he should be selfless. But Jay didn't see it that way, and for some reason, this angered him.

Why you should read: literally the crystalized fight but fully realized, this fic gives u all the kai acknowledgement you could want while also staying super in character and it's just to great

Day 1: Past by @knowledgequeenabc

Harumi's past was a twisted thing. But it led her to where she ended up.

Why you should read: A great piece on Harumi before she became the Quiet One and the events leading her to it!! The internal tension is so good and investing to read about and the fact that she barely speaks throughout is just a really great way of framing the narrative

Please Stop Almost Dying by vvvortex

“So… come here often?” “Uh, this is a hospital.” “Yeah, I know. Come here often?”

Why you should read: A kinda-modern AU where Kai keeps landing himself in the hospital for stupid stunts - but hey! there's at least a cool intern there to talk to! a very funny story and then the ending hits you like a sack of bricks no spoilers bc its honestly something you should go into relatively blind :D

Where the Pain Digs Deepest by HarmforHim

Kai tugged at his hair. “I wish I could just, ugh! Like, just wish us back home, you know? Wish none of this ever happened in the first place. Wish it all away or something…” “No, you don’t.” The voice startled him more than he’d ever care to admit. Honestly, he hadn’t thought Jay was awake… Caught in the Realm of the Oni and the Dragon, Kai accidentally stirs up painful memories for his friend, leading to a very unexpected but much-needed conversation between the two brothers.

Why you should read: combines two of my favorite things - Kai and Skybound! this whole fic feels like a natural way of addressing the whole s6 reveals and I love the ninja voices in it

for want (for nothing) by @sadisthetic

When Kai picks up the staff, things go a little differently from the way he planned. The powers coursing through his body uncover long buried feelings. Including ones he didn't know he had.

why you should read: okay just read this one the night before today's rec list and man oh MAN is this fic an Experience in the best way possible. one of those things that's horrifying and amazing all in the same breath

#ninjago fic rec week

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gmanwhore · 8 months

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Unhinged ramble about how Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples by Will Wood fits with Dr. Wallace Breen because I am soooooo neurotypical and have no mental illnesses. Also yes I copy-pasted the lyrics and added my notations in brackets because I am. Yeah. Also this includes a LOT of headcanoins he's just a guy to me.

Did you know that the hole in the apple didn't come from the outside in? It was eaten from the core and out to the skin And that's why you'll never find the worm in it [Ok so. Like. Breen like lost all of his humanity right and I assume he never realized it until it was too late, you know, eaten from the core and out to the skin] But a few bad ones won't spoil the eyes if they fall far enough from the tree The rind is all you see, leave Eden with my seeds in your stomach [I literally have nothing for this lol. Well maybe like. Leaving Black Mesa with no actual sense of self leading to how easy it is for him to give into the Combine ok bye]

Well, this disease is defined by its treatment, you people make me sick Parlance of imbalanced cambia's been challenged at best AstraZeneca's just theoretical Prints of your fingers in the Rorschach jigsaw, say you saw a treasure map Straight-jacket and tie, psychiatric supply, while we tragically try to fit into a trap, but [I HAVE NOTHING FOR THIS ACTUALLY SORRY I AM AAAA]

Who'd want to be human anyway? (Ay, ay, ay, ay) Who pilots all these crude machines? [This has. Breencast vibes. He would actually say that.] Why'd you come into this world or come out that way? Like freaks of nurture, well, isn't it funny? [Ok. Bren backstory time because I made his relationship with his mother mirror his relationship with the Combine like. He just bows to the stronger person because he knows he can't fight back so like. He relly is a freak of nurture. Anyways I fuckig love that line anyways] (Well, not ha-ha funny, but y'know, funny)

'Cause I doubt that you would even if you could change [*stares in judgement*] You think it makes you special, but it makes you strange I doubt that you would even if you could change The things that make you special are the things that make you strange

I am the shadows cast aside by gallows, and you the red-hot sky [This makes sense with like. Him and the resistance. Actually most of this verse is like a Breencast tbh like it sounds like something he says over the screen y'know?] And if you're believers, then why would you grieve for the dead instead of a devil that you never prayed for? You become immune to my toxic fumes My dose-dependent presence in your life [Ok. This is slightly off topic but like. Breen to Cave. If you know you know.] It's all subjective, all due respect to the collective mind, but [The collective mind you say]

Too weird to love, too scared to die, too alien to take you home (Ay, ay, ay, ay) Horrified at the sight of my reflection in your eyes, I don't belong there [OK I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING REALLY SOLID FOR THIS OK SO LIKE. Horrified at the sight of my reflection in your eyes is like. In his office when Judith is finally fed up with him he sees himself in her eyes and has a brief "oh no' moment but also. I don't belong there is him standing in front of an Advisor and his reflection in its eye is Breengrub. You see.) Well, it's your conclusions that make mine delusions, so I make you sane You can thank me later [Ok so like. I think he's dug himself into egotism because he doesn't have any sense of self so yeah. Yeah you see it I aohihweiu]

Well, I doubt that you would, even if you could change You think it makes you special, but it makes you strange I doubt that you would, even if you could change The things that make you special are the things that make you strange

Who'd want to belong to anyone? I mean, what do people even do? (Ay, ay, ay, ay) [Office scenenenenenene] So if you love me, let me let you go, my love, so I can be no one (Ay, ay, ay, ay) [OK ANOTHER ONE I HAVE A VERY SOLID THING FOR BECAUSE. I HEADCANON THAT AFTER CAVE DIES HE BEGINS TO LOSE HIS SENSE OF SELF BECAUSE THE ONLY PERSON WHO WANTED TO SPEND TIME ON HIM DIED I AM] When Chuang-Tzu awoke, he sat up almost choking, spat out a butterfly and said, "Five more minutes, please? You wouldn't believe the dream I just had I mean, you were there, and you were there And you, and you, and you were there"

'Cause I doubt that you would, even if you could change The things that make you special are what make you strange I doubt that you would, even if you could change The things that make you special are the same that make you

I doubt that you would even if you could change You think it makes you special, but it makes you strange I doubt that you would even if you could change The things that make you special are the same that make you strange

#dr. breen #tagging this so i can find it later

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 1 year

Note

top 10 anime! go!

OK here's a post that might have been better saved for a more suitable time than a Sunday night after I've just eaten dinner. I'm sure you will enjoy it

This list will probably be very different from the lists you (or anyone reading these tags) would probably compile on your own, or even from lists by other people. These aren't my favorite shows, and there are plenty I haven't watched. This is not a list of the best anime, not even the best classic anime. But it is the one that seems to best capture the experience of my (mostly) non-Japanese-speaking fandom, the one I recommend to most of my mostly non-Japanese-speaking followers.

It's a list of all the anime that I've seen a significant amount of episodes of, because for a long time I've watched the anime that I know, but this is much more my kind of thing than any other list. Not much plot, more character-focused, sometimes sad, sometimes funny, about the human experience, about relationships, about the future.

And, to start, an anime whose story is largely about the future, and what that future might hold:

Tetsuwan Atom, 1967 (the first series, and most famous). An anti-war story, in the genre you've seen a lot here, of a scientist who is involved in some kind of government science project, and decides to secretly help those affected by the Vietnam War -- specifically by creating a sort of giant robot capable of fighting the US military. The government is initially horrified to learn of his project, but by the end of the first season they've begun to realize he may actually be making a point.

Sailor Moon, 1990-ish. This is the show that gave me the term "otaku" (a word which has a somewhat negative connotation, so don't get carried away). It follows the story of Usagi, a young girl who is summoned from her home in rural Japan and goes to Usagi, who then goes with Usagi to the futuristic city and then has a life there full of magical girls. By the end of the first season Usagi is a magical girl herself, and by the second season there are four magical girls all summoned and sent out to save the world from evil. (The fourth magical girl, Ami, is a sort of subversion of the normal magical girl, in that she doesn't wear magical girl make-up, so even when in battle she is indistinguishable from a human.)

Fullmetal Alchemist, 2003. It might be obvious here, but I am a sucker for this sort of story. The protagonist, a young orphan boy, sets out to find someone he can sell his soul to, in order to receive a huge sum of money. His path to salvation is not necessarily clear at first, involving many twists and turns and unexpected companions. By the end of the first season he finds the person he was looking for, and the two become brothers-in-arms (and perhaps more).

Golgo 13, 2006. The premise is simple: a bunch of characters are imprisoned in a large, seemingly-empty building, with the walls gradually closing in. This is a great premise, and Golgo 13 is a great series about a bunch of people trapped in that sort of environment, and the sort of psychological drama it causes.

Gintama, 2006. More psychological drama (although less extreme), this one has the protagonist locked up in his home.

Mushishi, 2005. This series' premise might as well be "weird anime about bears that eat people." A group of bear-mushroom hybrids go on to investigate a series of weird deaths.

Death Note, 2003-06. This series combines psychological drama, murder mystery, and time travel.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica, 2011. While the original plot may seem silly, it isn't; the magic system is pretty clever. The premise is that magical girls are granted some sort of power as children that allows them to create a magical world, as a way to protect themselves from monsters, but that this power can be given to anyone in a moment of extreme emotional duress. This is why this series involves time travel; in order to get to another world you have to travel through the past.

So, what am I most fond of?

Haibane Renmei, 1997. Haibane is actually four seasons long, I know, but I have only watched the first two so far. It is the sort of thing that could be described as "dark fantasy," but this is a very lighthearted, whimsical version, with a lot of wacky hijinks and silly plots. It involves a bunch of weird, alien things that are actually human people, and that's one of the main things about it. The main character's name is actually "Hanabino." There is a huge amount of time spent looking at cute animals, a sort of "everyone here is a character" thing is going on, and at the end the hero and the villain have a final fight, which involves a lot of wacky hijinks and silly plot twists, and then they run away into the stars together.

#weeabraist #blah blah blah #big yud #purring-tiefling

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leiawritesstories · 1 year

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a snippet

"I'm going to try to get the fic done during my break!!" famous last words, leia. let's not say things we can't complete. anyway, here's a little snippet to hopefully help with my inability to write. enjoy!!

~~~~~

Rowan eyed her drink dubiously. “You sure that’s not going to kill you?”

She rolled her eyes, taking a languid sip. “It’s my usual order, Ro, of course it’s not going to harm me. Not all of us drink boring black coffee, you know.”

“Menace,” he teased. “Not that I want to know, but…what in all things holy is that, Ae?”

“Iced mocha with oat milk and a pump of hazelnut.” She rattled it off with practiced ease. “Oat milk because I’m lactose intolerant and dairy will not be kind to my apartment’s plumbing, and hazelnut because chocolate and hazelnut is the best combination ever created.”

Rowan blinked rapidly, processing her order. “So, caffeine and sugar and more sugar?”

“Exactly!” She beamed.

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Here, have even more sugar, then, gods know I can’t control your eating habits.”

“Glad you’re learning,” she laughed, accepting the plate. “And yes, you will be eating one of these.”

“But I–”

“No but,” she interrupted. “Indulging yourself every once in a while doesn’t mean you’re abandoning your meal plan, Ro. And besides, Emrys would be horrified if he saw me bring someone who won’t eat pastries into his beloved coffee shop.”

“All right, all right, I yield.” Rowan took his plate, cut the pastry in half, and took a bite, his eyes closing at the taste. “Gods, this is incredible!”

“Told you so,” she smirked.

“Fine,” he grumbled, pretending to look affronted.

She snickered. “See? Drinking sad, boring black coffee does have negative side effects!” She bit into her own pastry, not even bothering to mute her soft, appreciative moan of delight. “Emrys, you are my favorite person.”

“Ouch,” Rowan teased. “What a thing to say on a first date.”

Aelin huffed a laugh. “So funny, aren’t you?”

“It’s why you agreed to go out with me,” he grinned, giving her a theatrical dip of his head.

“Mmm, yeah, me agreeing to go out with you had nothing to do with years of pining, not at all,” she deadpanned.

He froze, coffee cup halfway to his mouth.

Shit.

Think before you speak, dammit! she berated herself, cheeks blooming bright pink. “Gods, I didn’t mean for that to just slip out, I’m–”

“Years of pining?” he breathed, shakily setting his coffee down. “Aelin…Fireheart, I’ve been head over heels for you since we were kids or something.”

It was her turn to muffle a gasp. “Are you…are you serious, Rowan?”

“Completely.” He reached across the table and laid his hand atop hers. “I can only say I’m sorry it took so damn long to admit it.”

“Gods.” She laced her fingers with his, a smile brighter than the morning sun breaking across her face. “What took us so long?”

“Gods only know,” he chuckled, his joy matching hers. “Gods only know.”

~~~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be on/off my updated taglist!

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

#my writing #upcoming fic #new fic #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #fluff #i promise #this one is basically all fluff #I SWEAR

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sunriseverse · 3 months

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Since you asked for questions...

7, 13, 17, 19, 21, 33, 39

thanks so much for the ask!!!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

i love putting the images in my mind into words, and i love being able to construct a cogent narrative from what starts as only scraps of those images. i love my writing style, love the way it sounds and the way it paints pictures so vividly. i'm by no means the best writer in the world, but i like the way i write. also, hearing peoples' reactions to my writing! i love when people engage with me and tell me what part of something particularly hit them.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

hardest would probably be involuntary institutionalisation/psychiatric mistreatment/abuse. i've never written anything in this vein (to my memory, at least), and while i think i have a lot of interesting concepts in that vein, i..............don't think i'd probably ever be able to properly manage to write it. as for easiest..................basically everything else? if you're just talking about subject matter, i think i'm fairly skilled and can pull off most things. the easiest would probably be various types of mental health issues, internalised dehumanisation, and intense longing and pining, which is a little bit of a funny combination on its face.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

okay i will not make you sit through my ramble about sunrise because it is literally thousands of words long, so i'll just link my sunrise crash course post. that said, a short thing i can say is the zhang sect's formative history is steeped in the tragedy of familial infighting and murder, and the later generations, especially after zhang ruitong's period as zhang qiling, really hold up the murder as a good, righteous action, when the murderer was devastated and horrified by what she had done and essentially became a recluse and a shadow of herself because of it, and zhang ruitong is maybe, possibly, heretically killed by a snake that's a reincarnated version of the murdered brother in question.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

oh, this is a long one. so, i've been writing for..............a bit more than half my life, now. i started out writing fanfic by hand as a kid, and then migrated first to ffnet , where i spent a good few years mostly lurking until i finally got an email and was able to post my own writing (i did briefly use lj and quotev before ffnet, but i never had an account on them). i wrote a lot of warriors fanfic, since that's what i was mainly into, as well as a good deal of guardians of ga'hoole and inheritance cycle fanfic by hand (none of this was ever digitised and is probably lost to the ages). after this, in 2017, i finally made the shift to ao3, after having heard about it for years but never making the transition, because an author i read a lot of talked about migrating over there, and began posting my own writing. by that point, i'd been writing for a good portion of my life, and my writing skills weren't too shabby, so some of the stuff from that period is still intelligible, even if it's bad. then in 2018 i began taking prompts for a fandom i'd just gotten into, pacific rim, and i was a serial promptfic writer between 2018-2021, which is where i credit my rapid improvement of skill to—i was writing sometimes two or three prompts per month, and generally the reaction was positive. however, a combination of events almost led me to stop writing entirely in 2021—people had started calling me a big name fan, which made me incredibly uncomfortable, because i felt like i was being put up on a pedestal and people were treating me as an idol rather than just...............you know, another fan. i also had a falling out with another big name fan in the fandom over a "joke" they made. i actually never talked about this publicly, because i genuinely don't think it was like................something worth dragging into public, especially since as a so-called bnf myself, i was aware that if i were to talk about it, people would be very polarised about it. after i blocked this person, they went and left a massive ao3 comment on one of my fics, which freaked me out pretty badly, and for about a year afterwards i had really bad shutdowns and paranoia surrounding that event and fanfic generally that made writing really hard for me, because i found it really hard to extricate my writing from the harmful ways i was practising and thinking about my writing. but after a series of url changes, making new friends, and finally getting medicated for the plethora of mental health issues i apparently had had most of my life (shocking, who could have guessed), i was able to finally begin seeing writing as something for me and something i did for enjoyment. moving into cdramas and cnovels as my main types of fandom also helped a lot, because it took off the pressure i felt to write a certain way, since a lot of the english fandoms for them are much smaller, and i've purposely tried to ensure that i never wind up in another situation where i'm being called a bnf again. also, my writing now is probably the best it's ever been, and that makes me really happy and helps stave off any issues i might have with falling into a bad mental state again.

21. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

uh. not very. i have a notes app folder with jotted down fanfic ideas i'll sometimes go through, but most of the time i just start writing in a google doc with some stupid title, and i rarely use outlines—mostly my "planning" process consists of either 1. rambling to my friends to help solidify my ideas and copypasting that conversation into the docs for reference, or 2. a singular rambling line detailing the points i want to hit in the fic. once it's finished, i toss it into ao3 and call it a day. i'm an adult who's also been in university and college for years and i have a lot of things to do, and fanfic is something that i do for fun, so i don't really bother to be too meticulous about it—unless you count sunrise, which is just generally an outlier in my life overall.

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

yes! i draw and (very occasionally) make amvs. usually though my art isn't tied to any of my writing, and my amvs are separate too. i would love to illustrate my writing, but my art is..........not that good. mostly i just use my art for character design/redesign these days.

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

spite, mostly. my life and other people have taken a lot of things from me, and writing is the one thing i've stubbornly held onto since i was a child. it's in my marrow by this point; i wouldn't be myself if i didn't write. also, there's something so satisfying about drawing together a concept over thousands of words—and i love trying to figure out how a concept would work while still keeping characters, well, in character.

#ask #ask meme #c.txt

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twistedtummies2 · 4 months

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Year of the Bat - Number 8

Welcome to Year of the Bat! In honor of Kevin Conroy, Arleen Sorkin, and Richard Moll, I’ve been counting down my Top 31 Favorite Episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” throughout this January.

TODAY’S EPISODE QUOTE: “But they share my unique face! Colonel Whathisname has chickens, and they don't even have moustaches!" Number 8 is…The Laughing Fish.

Many have claimed that part of what made B:TAS so great was that, in many ways, it’s episodes felt less like typical short superhero stories of the time, and more like “mini movies.” The production values, uses of colors, shadows, and angles, and even the quality of the voice cast all made for a series that felt cinematic on its best outings. “The Laughing Fish” is a great example of this, as it features so many of the points that have led to the show’s stellar reputation. While the story it tells isn’t especially deep or complex, its especially dark and unsettling tone, along with its marvelous storytelling, makes for arguably the single greatest Joker-centric outing in the entire series. This episode combines elements of three (well, technically four) separate Batman comics together: the plot, and even a good chunk of the dialogue, is taken from the famous two-part story “The Laughing Fish/Sign of the Joker.” The grand climactic sequence where Batman’s final confrontation with the Clown Prince of Crime takes place is ripped from another famous story, “The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge,” which many credit as the story that officially brought Batman out of the Silver Age and into the darker Bronze Age of comics. Finally, the final scene of the episode is based on a bit from the story “Dreadful Birthday, Dear Joker!” As someone who has read all of these comics, and loves all of them, I honestly feel that the combined elements of the stories used here – along with some original bits and pieces – makes for a story that is honestly stronger than any of them separately. It’s another case where the Animated Series showed its merits, and improved on already magnificent material through its own attributes.

The plot begins with a strange epidemic in Gotham: all of the fish in the harbor have turned a hideous shade of white and green, with their mouths twisted to resemble the Joker’s own warped smile. The toxin is harmless, as it only affects the fish, not people, but naturally folks are quite disturbed. It’s soon revealed that this is part of an elaborate scheme the Joker has made up, to try and copyright all the fish in Gotham, so he can make a fortune via the royalties and residuals. Of course, one can’t copyright fish, by law, so the Joker goes on a rampage, attacking paper pushers and bureaucrats till his demands are met. This all culminates in a showdown at an aquarium, where a captured Harvey Bullock and Batman are forced to duel with a Great White Shark.

This is one of Mark Hamill’s greatest performances as the Joker, no doubt. Part of this is because it carries so much from the comics, which I think helps lend his performance a sort of “authenticity,” for lack of a better word; it’s one of the reasons so many people say he simply IS the Joker: he got to do a lot of the villain’s best stories, this episode being a great example. “The Laughing Fish” showcases the Joker’s greatest values, as he has many great and funny moments, but there’s also a viciousness to his voicework in this outing that’s particularly notable. On top of that, this episode gets borderline horror-story-levels of creepy, as the Joker’s victims are given near-lethal doses of his patented Joker Venom, and the visuals this conjures up – plus the dead-eyed grins of the titular fish – make for some unnervingly memorable imagery. No one dies in the episode (unlike in the comics, doubtless due to the show’s need to keep things “safe” for the kiddies), but that doesn’t stop the scenes from being truly horrifying to behold. It’s one of the Joker’s most frightening tales, and illustrates why he’s such a great villain for Batman to face. The inclusion of original elements – such as Harley Quinn – does not lessen the impact of the episode, and every single voice artist is at the top of their game, not just Hamill. Both Conroy and Sorkin are just as magnificent, not to mention the other supporting players, such as Bob Hastings as Commissioner Gordon and Robert Costanzo as Bullock. Everything, really, is at 100% here: the writing, the direction, the animation, the characters…it’s arguably the definitive Joker episode of the show, and for that reason above all else, it deserves placement in the Top 10 for me.

Tomorrow we move on with Number 7! Hint: “How could you? I worked with you, trusted you, and you never told me?!”

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readerbookclub · 2 years

Text

Breakdown - October’s Book List

Hello! This month’s book list is about characters who are doing... okay. Yup. They’re fine. Absolutely no cause for concern. Nothing to worry about. Just happy characters in happy novels. All sunshine and rainbows :)

As always please remember to vote for which one we should read using the link at the bottom of the post.

The Bell Jar, by Syliva Path

The Bell Jar chronicles the crack-up of Esther Greenwood: brilliant, beautiful, enormously talented, and successful, but slowly going under—maybe for the last time. Sylvia Plath masterfully draws the reader into Esther's breakdown with such intensity that Esther's insanity becomes completely real and even rational, as probable and accessible an experience as going to the movies. Such deep penetration into the dark and harrowing corners of the psyche is an extraordinary accomplishment and has made The Bell Jar a haunting American classic.

My Year of Rest and Relaxation, by Otessa Moshfegh

Our narrator should be happy, shouldn't she? She's young, thin, pretty, a recent Columbia graduate, works an easy job at a hip art gallery, lives in an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan paid for, like the rest of her needs, by her inheritance. But there is a dark and vacuous hole in her heart, and it isn't just the loss of her parents, or the way her Wall Street boyfriend treats her, or her sadomasochistic relationship with her best friend, Reva. It's the year 2000 in a city aglitter with wealth and possibility; what could be so terribly wrong? My Year of Rest and Relaxation is a powerful answer to that question. Through the story of a year spent under the influence of a truly mad combination of drugs designed to heal our heroine from her alienation from this world, Moshfegh shows us how reasonable, even necessary, alienation can be. Both tender and blackly funny, merciless and compassionate, it is a showcase for the gifts of one of our major writers working at the height of her powers.

Nausea, by Jean-Paul Sartre

Nausea is the story of Antoine Roquentin, a French writer who is horrified at his own existence. In impressionistic, diary form he ruthlessly catalogues his every feeling and sensation about the world and people around him. His thoughts culminate in a pervasive, overpowering feeling of nausea which "spread at the bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of our time, the time of purple suspenders and broken chair seats; it is made of wide, soft instants, spreading at the edge, like an oil stain." Boy Parts, by Eliza Clark

Irina obsessively takes explicit photographs of the average-looking men she persuades to model for her, scouted from the streets of Newcastle. Placed on sabbatical from her dead-end bar job, she is offered an exhibition at a fashionable London gallery, promising to revive her career in the art world and offering an escape from her rut of drugs, alcohol, and extreme cinema. The news triggers a self-destructive tailspin, centred around Irina’s relationship with her obsessive best friend, and a shy young man from her local supermarket who has attracted her attention…

The Crying of Lot 49, by Thomas Pynchon

Suffused with rich satire, chaotic brilliance, verbal turbulence and wild humor, The Crying of Lot 49 opens as Oedipa Maas discovers that she has been made executrix of a former lover's estate. The performance of her duties sets her on a strange trail of detection, in which bizarre characters crowd in to help or confuse her. But gradually, death, drugs, madness, and marriage combine to leave Oedipa in isolation on the threshold of revelation, awaiting the Crying of Lot 49.

Please vote for which one we should read, here.

#the bell jar #sylvia path #my year of rest and relaxation #otessa moshfegh #nausea #jean-paul sartre #boy parts #eliza clark #the crying of lot 49 #thomas pynchon #book list #book club

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bestworstcase · 2 years

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Now that you mention it I still have NO idea on how mankind came back to Remnant after the Gods left. Maybe the final stage of Grimm evalution is humanity? Or maybe the 2nd Generation Humans were derived from the Faunus? I'm not sure, it is suspicious though.

i think the most horrifying possible answer is that humans just straight up evolved again,

do you ever think about the probable aftermath of the massacre because i do and it haunts me like

the gods slaughter every person on the planet, including salem, who reconstitutes. then they leave, shattering the moon on their way out

consequently an enormous quantity of moon chunks hammers down on the planet, which in the best case scenario causes a prolonged impact winter and subsequent mass extinction of other species; worst case scenario, depending on how severe and how long the bombardment lasted, we’re looking at ‘everything is on fire everywhere and the oceans are boiling away’ levels of apocalyptic. salem is alive for all of this,

im distraught.

anyway regarding the revival of humankind i have a small fleet of theories gamboling around in my head, including:

1. salem did it. team oz may have forgotten or overlooked the fact that she got dunked into and equally changed by THE POOL OF LIFE too, but i haven’t

2. squints at the very humanlike spirits who inhabit the relics squints at the god of light i have questions (or: this is something of a crack theory but i am not sure i believe the brother gods actually made those spirits, and that the two we’ve met are both wrapped in chains is perhaps more than an aesthetic choice)

3. millions of years pass and myriad different ancestor species convergently evolve in accordance with the cosmic ‘blueprint’ the gods established when they made humans the first time, like carcinization except it’s humankind hdjfhdjsk

4. in order to make humanity, the brothers combined their innate natures and accidentally made something greater than the sum of their parts; that is, while the gods are stronger than humankind as a matter of raw power, metaphysically the dual/harmonious nature of humankind surpasses the broken and strictly dichotomous nature of the gods, and in making humans the gods created something they just aren’t capable of destroying, no matter how many individuals they slaughter. (i think the general thrust of this is likeliest to be what rwby is going for, given the staunchly humanist outlook saturating the narrative + the hopepunk lean)

5. the god of animals is real, has nothing to do with the brothers whatsoever, and is playing silly buggers in the sandbox they abandoned (this is the funniest option we love a god who rocks in after the apocalypse and goes MY PLANET NOW) (realistically though i am doubtful that the god of animals exists in the literal sense) (i have been toying with the theory that the god of animals might actually be the god of darkness, which go hand in hand with the mulling i’ve been doing that the divine ultimatum wasn’t a joint declaration / the brothers have split from each other a lot more than we realize since the massacre; see also, the ‘it is SPECIFICALLY light who will be the final boss’ tinhatting and vague thoughts i don’t think i’ve ever written out properly regarding how dark is, on balance, actually the lesser danger vis-a-vis humankind)

6. the humans on remnant were and aren’t the only humans in the cosmos, and humanity 2.0 actually came from somewhere else (an intriguing possibility given that rwbyj are now somewhere else, plus the girl who fell through the world)

7. all of the above somehow

bonus round: funny u should say that about the grimm because, while i have not the slightest clue where rwby’s going with them, that is in fact EXACTLY how i decided it works for the purposes of the for want of a nail au i’m working on rn—not that humanity 2.0 evolved from the grimm somehow, but that when the brothers made humankind they combined destruction+knowledge and creation+choice and the grimm are straight up just the raw material dark whipped up in preparation for that process. take a person, cut away creation+choice, and you get a grimm; likewise, give a grimm creation+choice and you get a person. i promise to utterly lose my shit if this turns out to be how it works in canon too

#i am. ready for the v9 lore drop

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ashanimus · 1 year

Text

Ash Liveblogs MTME #3

Sorry I will put a readmore asdfjaldsjgk

Something about this merciful understanding of the self combined with the absolute ridiculous and heavy handed management here is insane to me, like using a really big frying pan to cook ONe egg. But NO ONE, least of all Rodimus is firing on all cylinders theyre all so Broken--and that's without the funny screechery. Theyre all...doing their best I guess and theyre all absolute brutalized wrecks operating from a set of protocols developed in active, horrifying war zones. Makes for a great story and really compelling and funny right off but combined with the hyperviolence and British humor its also VERY SAD

OH SAME--

Oh what a cool way to represent going through the memories...I'm never going to be over how wild the art in this thing is am I.

Awww, how cute

aesfj;dslijag NOOOO BASTARD PURPLE FOSSIL

Oh for serious the problem this issue is a fucking robot VAMPIRE--OH OKAY. Dear god anything goes in this comic and Im here for it

FSJODAJFSGJRDH

I'm going to be going "Oh Same" with Tailgate a lot arent I

Ahhhhh the pretty illustration of Cyclonus retelling of the factions. I suppose based on what I know I like him for being the one to explain it to Tailgate here but damn. "Whose side would you have been on" can be a hard question to ask out of context like that.

RODIMUS. I KNow youre like the bastard anime protagonist here but I aM SO CONFIDENT that you doing THIS

HAs gotten someone killed before and despite your overconfidence its GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN I JUST KNOW THIS

af:DSLFAJSG

DICKHEAD

You did not get beat up enough as a child on the playground >:C

OH YOU JUST

YOU ANSWERED THAT OH MY GOD?? OKAY THEN!

#ash liveblogs mtmte #I see why everyone is like Tailgate is baby #but he like everyone here is also dangerously unhinged about Something

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hypo-critic-al · 2 years

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🌱🧡💙☀️

[I began to write this as short ask but it turned into a loooong post about my life and self-discovery, so-

TWs ahead: homophobia and transphobia, religious trauma mentions]

Oof.

Well.

It would be very funny encounter from my perspective and horrifying encounter for my past self xD

I guess religious indoctrination and sheltering, and opposing everything catholic church doesn’t agree with would cause me to cry upon learning "what I’ve gotten myself to". Heck, even if I appeared to myself from year ago, the reaction would be rather hysterical (we would throw hands xjdkwjwj) I wish I could come visit my past self, and show her how dangerous place and mindset she is in… I cannot believe how much progress I’ve actually made since then.

Oh this one’s fun!

…

To be honest, almost none, because my wardrobe didn’t gain any new clothes since when I became comfortable in my sexuality. Mainly because my parents say they don’t want to waste money on clothes and that i already have plenty (which appeal to them, not to me)

But I’m trying to come up with "queer-er" combos and more femme outfits :3

(And combined with a half heart necklace I got as a gift from my love, as well as subtle lesbian colours bracelet, again from her, I feel like I’m presenting comfortably queer to people I allow to read me as queer 🥺 )

(I’m sorry, but despite the seriousness of the matter I can’t help but laugh with joy rn how much this isn’t true anymore)

First time I got met with LGBTQ+ was in negative sense, through few words, as the hugest taboo from words of everyone around me. I saw my friends speaking in the most negative light about celebrities who came out as trans, I heard priests preaching against "gender ideology", my family shook their heads over "western bullcrap", my YouTube page was full of people explaining why being gay is against the Bible and God. It took me too much time to realise how wrong these opinions are and how deep my indoctrination was, it took a lot of long months, a lot of tears but now I feel the safest and best I’ve ever felt in my entire life, it is one of my best decisions I’ve ever done.

Of course! The greatest thanks goes to my love, @the-gay-sailor :3

She did the greatest work in helping me with my deconstruction, and I can’t truly imagine to this day how much patience and kindness, and will it must’ve took to help me so much to accept and love myself for who I truly am…

I love her so much, I’m forever grateful for everything she is… 🥺

And the fact I’m in this community on tumblr has helped me as well, the amount of us queers in the frankenfandom is truly beautiful :]

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 3 months

Text

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 5

Episode 12: The Whole Bilsky Family

~The Man Cave~

Oh, how good it felt to enjoy a normal evening.

It was dinner time, roughly six PM, and as per his tradition, Ray was sitting in his Man Cave, watching and waiting for the best part of the news to start. He was the Ray Manchester, so of course, he didn't watch the program, that would be madness. Rather, he made a point of waiting until the end of the slot because that's when the stories loosened up and the presenters relaxed, meaning they told some of the funniest jokes he'd ever heard. Jokes so funny that he hated missing them.

That's what he was eagerly staring at the TV and the same-old man and woman as always, Trent and Mary, with his sweet girl in his lap. She was dozing, her face buried into the crick where his neck met his shoulder because she'd heard the important goings-on so the rest of the news was obsolete now. But he didn't mind holding her close to him. Her warmth made his experience all the more pleasant, which couldn't be said for his downright rude friends across the room.

"Authorities at the scene described it as horrifying and highly disturbing... And that's the story of my weekend. Trent?" Ray listened carefully as Mary Gaperman rambled on as she usually did, his gaze on the computer monitor breaking only when (y/n) shifted in her half sleep. A smile twitched on his face at how cute she was, how adorable she became when napping, and he placed a light kiss on her forehead before carrying on watching.

"Uh...breaking news, or should I say—" Trent looked into the camera and just as he was undoubtedly about to say something unbelievably funny, Charlotte turned on a blender across the room. She had Henry, Jasper and Schwoz crowded around her, throwing in random vegetables and other blendables. It was noisy and annoying, the perfect thing to piss Ray off for more than one reason.

"Oh, come on! I missed the pun!" he complained as Mary burst out laughing from Trent's joke that was lost to the racket. And if that wasn't bad enough, his voice was a little louder than he'd first intended, so the ensuing grumble combined with the loud buzz of the blender was enough to shock (y/n) awake and the hero tensed when he felt her jolt. There went the peace.

"Huh?" "WHAT?!" "What's with all the noise? Shut up!" The woman whined as her bleary eyes blinked a few times when her head picked up from his shoulder. Of course, she heard the noise coming from behind her and what sounded like Charlotte and Schwoz being highly inconsiderate of the nappers in the room but it was her doofus who had to take her weak slap to the pec.

"I'm sorry, darlin', go back to sleep," Ray told her gently, hoping that she could hear him above the noise and his arms curled around her form to encourage her to snuggle into him again. That gave him the chance to turn and glare at the heathens who dared to interrupt his viewing pleasure and her snoozing, "The funny word joke they do at the beginning of the news—"

"Hey, we can't hear what you are saying because the blender is too loud! It's drowning out what you're saying!" Henry yelled, not hearing one word, all he could see was his grumpy boss sitting there with his mouth moving like a puppet. Oh, and an even grumpier (y/n), who lightly whacked her lover again as his voice added to the rowdiness.

"I can't hear the pun and (y/n)'s trying to nap! Turn it off!" Ray snapped at his sidekick and helpers as he leaned over at them, careful to drop or squish the precious girl squirming in his hold. Trying to sleep with the blender on was futile, so it was nice that they did what they were told for once, even if her need to nap was now gone. Still, no one needed to know that; her fiancé was the comfiest bed she'd ever known and maybe sleep would return with the quiet.

"That was your best pun yet!"

"Oh, come on! I'm missing the wordplay!" The hero groaned as he turned back to the news to hear that whilst they'd been puréing everything in sight, the anchors had been making everyone in Swellview laugh bar him. He didn't mean to be so moody and raucous, it was the disappointment that fed his mouth, but whatever had caused his outburst, it still annoyed (y/n) enough to rearrange herself on his lap yet again and mumble angrily in his ear.

"You'll be missing something else if you don't be quiet, Raymond. I was comfy earlier..." she mumbled into his neck, teeth brushing the soft skin there as she spoke and it took every ounce of his strength not to shiver and disturb her further.

"In other news, police say a truck full of imported Venetian ham was stolen today," Mary moved on to the next story of the night and this one took Ray's interest in particular, after all, it was in his line of business. Some jerks had tried to steal a whole load of fancy bacon on his turf? Well, he'd have to be extra vigilant tonight when he, his sweet girl and Henry headed out to scout some scum.

"Venetian ham is the world's most absurdly expensive pork product, often referred to as the Ferrari of hams."

"Authorities also say that some of the stolen hams contain an anti-theft device. A capsule of blue dye that will explode if someone tries to eat the ham."

"Explosive blue dye? More like, explosive—" Just as Mary was about to say something sidesplitting, and during one of the most fascinating stories of the week, Henry turned the blender back on and chaos ensued once more. The racket was back because apparently, whatever they were blending couldn't wait ten minutes for their boss to finish watching or couldn't be done in the kitchen where (y/n) was less likely to take a nap.

"Oh, for the love of cheese, what does a girl have to do to get some sleep around here?!"

"Are you kidding me right now?!" The couple yelled above the noise as they both angrily moved to look at the ignorant group.

"Well, you said you missed the pun and we all know that (y/n) just wants to sit in your lap more than she wants to sleep so—" Charlotte shouted back, calling the woman's bluff, which caused her cheeks to heat up. Of all things to be heard over the blender, it had to be that.

So what if she wanted to unashamedly plonk herself on her doofus' knee? It was a free country and he never complained when she sidled up to him with a spring in her step, rather, Charlotte should've noted that it was him who encouraged everything and him that loved having her so closely and dearly that to say otherwise was sacrilege. And the blender was the culprit, so the blender had to die, the cause of death being several lasers.

"And that is our final joke of the broadcast."

"No!" Ray exclaimed in disappointment, throwing his hands up in the air as (y/n) gave him a sympathetic look and tried to comfort him as best she could. Meanwhile, the teens and Schwoz were still looking at their blender in shock, wondering what they'd done to deserve having it blasted into a smouldering heap. It was sparking and spitting, totally useless just as their bowl of carrots and greens was now but their sadness didn't match Ray's. Not even close.

"Goodnight, Swellview!"

"That was a good one, Mary..." Mary and Trent giggled to one another and just like that, the news was over, or at the bit, Ray was interested in was. Now, it was just a question of the cast and crew playing out to soft jazz music as they wave and grinned into the camera like they were featuring on some Saturday night talk show.

And for Ray, seeing them so happy and buddy-buddy was the final straw that broke the camel's back. One arm curled under (y/n)'s legs as the other supported her back and he lifted off the couch with her in his embrace, held bridal style in an impressive feat of strength that was over all too quickly. No sooner than she sucked in a gasp of surprise from the sudden elevation, she was put back on her feet so he could grumpily look at the monitor without getting into trouble for throwing her on the floor when he shot up. At least it was hot for a minute.

"Well, that's just great. Who even knows when the news is gonna be on again?" He questioned moodily, thinking with his feelings and irrationality, not his head.

"Twenty-four-hour cycle." "Same time every day, dude." "Tomorrow?"

"Doofus, you'll get to hear some funny jokes tomorrow, don't worry about it. There's literally new material every day," (y/n) giggled, having recovered from her brief daze of being sleepy one minute and stood up the next, and she endeavoured to soothe her silly lover. Of course, he knew that the news was on every night somewhere in that thick skull of his, all he needed to do was calm down and think, so she rubbed his back and his bicep to try and help, although a small part of her would admit that it was slightly self-indulgent getting to feel his muscles.

"Just—what's with all of the blending?" The hero asked his employees as he breathed in deeply and let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. Fine; if his darling girl said that he'd get another chance tomorrow, then he'd let his anger go for tonight but even so, he wanted an explanation for whatever they were doing.

"Oh, we're on a liquid cleanse."

"Hmm?"

"We're on a liquid cleanse," Henry told his boss and it was so dumb that Ray had to hear it twice. They did know that those were fads and never worked, right? Or, if they did work on the off chance, then they only worked for a couple of weeks until solid food was reintroduced, right?

"That's stupid."

"Hmm?"

"That's stupid," the couple told him, both thinking that they were being ridiculous. Drinking puréed mush didn't sound enjoyable to them, they liked chewing their food that didn't come with a straw and only one colour. But as always, this wasn't just some urban myth they'd picked up on at school, this wisdom came from online, which meant it had to be true.

"No, we saw a video on the internet that says if you eat nothing but liquid food for three days, you get night vision."

"Yeah, you can see everything. At night," Jasper and Henry explained, smirking from the excitement that pooled in their bellies. They were certain that it was gonna work and how cool would it be when they could walk around and not fear stubbing their toe or walking into some unseen pillar? Sure, it was whack but it had to be worth a go when the result was so captivating and no matter who judged them, they were gonna finish the course...to see who'd be laughing then.

"Dear god... Fellow smart one? Fellow science freak? You're both falling for this?" (y/n) asked Charlotte and Schwoz with raised eyebrows, silently judging them for believing such crap. They were supposed to be the ones with brain cells, the ones who could look at something and decide whether it was scientifically sound or not and this liquid cleanse was the biggest load of garbage she'd ever heard—something she'd expect from Henry, Jasper and hell, even Ray, but certainly not her counterparts.

"I want night vision," the girl admitted and ignored her friend's sceptical look. A part of her admitted that it was stupid and normally, she'd roll her eyes at the moronic boys and refuse to participate but at the end of the day, what did she have to lose? Nothing; three days of consuming blended vegetables and smoothies wouldn't kill her and maybe, just maybe, she'd end up with something magical like the internet said she would. Surely, it was worth a try, just like what science was all about - trial and error.

"Sometimes it's just nice to be part of something," Schwoz mumbled cutely, his answer being a little more...depressing than the others to the point where the woman's judgmental gaze softened.

"Hold on a second..." the boy muttered and fished for his phone whilst he stepped away from the blending station," Hey, dad. What's up?" He answered, wondering what his dad could want when he knew that he worked on Saturdays.

"You gotta come home," Mr Hart said immediately, leaving no room for arguing or elaborating. It was rare that he demanded so much from his son, especially since he appreciated that he was at work, but this was an emergency, one that would require them to huddle together to make through. Maybe even some outside help, that's how serious it was.

"Why?" "Because Piper's new boyfriend is coming over for dinner with his family. You're in our family, so you need to be here!" His dad explained hurriedly, sounding so panicked and frantic that even Ray and (y/n) could hear his muffled tone from across the Man Cave, although not exactly what he was saying.

Right, Piper's boyfriend, the one that she'd nervously screamed to Charlotte and (y/n) about when they went to see Nice Girls at the weekend. He was sweet, polite, cute, everything a tween would want in a boyfriend and they were excited for her, happy, but that hadn't stopped the butterflies from eating her alive. What could go wrong?

With her family? A lot. This cute boy had said that his family was a mess, but Piper could swear that with her weird father and awkward brother, the evening would be catastrophic on her part—especially since she was cooking. Relations aside, her food was notoriously bad, awful even, no matter how many subtle tips (y/n) tried to slip her on Henry's request, so things were hurtling towards a disaster. And that was before the table had even been set.

So, she'd begged her older friends for advice by the bucket load, wanting every hint and trick in the book to try and make things go slowly and she'd pressed (y/n) for advice since she was the most experienced with boys and family get-togethers. But there was a slight problem. How do you tell an eager girl who needs reassurance that when you met your boyfriend's estranged father, it was one of the most awkward moments of your life? It would hardly give her confidence.

"Uhhhh, yeah, I'm kinda on a liquid cleanse right now, so..." Henry replied, trying to find a way out of the dinner because sitting for hours on end on his best behaviour for Piper, her boyfriend and a group of strangers was not his idea of fun. And besides, going home for dinner would mean that he'd have to jeopardise his chances of seeing in the dark and he wouldn't do that for Piper nor love or money.

"For night vision? That's real," Mr Hart noted, which only strengthened his son's argument.

"Uh, yeah, so, uh...I'm gonna have to use my get-out of dinner card, which I am holding right now, even though you can't see it," the boy said sneakily, holding in his hand a small card that his family had passed out for when they each needed an excuse to get out of family events. It worked out rather well and even if he had to use this one up, he was prepared to get out of what was set to the most boring evening of the century.

"No, no, your mom already used hers. I'm holding it right here, even though you can't see it," his dad countered, holding an identical copy of the card, which his wife had used to slope off for the night, even though it was arguably one of the biggest nights of her daughter's young life. And that meant only one thing; Henry had to show his face because they couldn't let Piper's boyfriend think that everyone had bailed on meeting them, that would be rude.

"Dang it!" "Come home! And bring your boss, the one Piper likes, please," the man practically begged and his unusual question caused Henry to frown as his eyes flickered over to (y/n), who was still listening but preoccupied with Ray, his hands on her waist and her arms slung around his neck, gazes fixated on each other. Why would she need to attend a family dinner?

"You mean (y/n)? Why?" He asked, which earned him the woman's attention. (y/n) glanced over as Ray mumbled in her ear about how he wanted to take her out to dinner sometime in the week. She locked eyes with Henry and twitched her eyebrows together in a split-second frown and he jutted his head to indicate that he was indeed talking about her.

"Because Piper is freaking out about this boy she likes and asked if she'd come over to give her advice since your mother isn't here! Henry, she has practically bitten my head off, please get that girl over here!" Jake begged, trying to keep his voice level lest his frazzled daughter should hear him in the kitchen and give him another earful.

"Uh, okay, lemme just ask," Henry muttered, and held his cell to his chest so he didn't deafen his dad when he shouted to the woman. It wasn't her saying no that he was worried about, it was her limpet of a fiancé who always seemed to glue himself to her side. "Uh, hey, (y/n/n)!"

"Yeah, Hen?"

"Uh, would you be able to come over to my house to help Piper with a family dinner thing? Her boyfriend and his family are coming over and—" he explained, glad that she was giving him her full attention because it meant she could see how done with the situation he already was.

Luckily, (y/n) was a kindhearted soul and could see a boy in distress when he stood across the room from her and the mere mention of Piper and the night she'd been flapping about for weeks was enough to convince her that the Cupid who wasn't stupid, namely her, was needed.

"Say no more, Hart. My answer is yes, I'll come over and stop Piper from tearing the house down and you and your dad from ruining her evening with...Billy, I think it was," she butted in, taking one hand from Ray's chest and holding it up to silence the kid from blabbing on about details she already knew.

She knew about Bob...Billy? Barry...no, Bartholomew? Whatever his name was, she knew that Piper had liked him for a while, not because he was the cutest boy or the smartest or the coolest but because they had fun together and he treated her right, which was the kind of boy every girl should hope to date. So, she'd be damned if a small thing like a family dinner ruined their blossoming puppy love and her evening was free anyway, filled with Ray cuddles and kisses like most nights in were.

"Great! Thanks, (y/n/n)," the kid grinned at her and breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't realise he was holding, although he did notice how appalled Ray seemed at this hint of news that his girl and sidekick were up to something, "Dad, she said she'd do it! Tell Piper to not worry, we're coming."

"Thank god...get here fast!" Mr Hart had never sounded more relieved to hear that the cavalry was coming.

"Okay! Click." "Click." Henry hung up the phone and shoved it deep in his pocket as (y/n) briefly stood at the table to shuck on her jacket. Ray, being the gentleman he was, helped her but he couldn't help the confused expression on his face because it wasn't cold in the Man Cave and if she felt like it was, he'd warm her up no problem.

But what was this about a dinner? He couldn't help but get the feeling she was leaving and that didn't sit right with him at all because they had a lot of cuddles to catch up on and he couldn't talk to anyone else about anything and everything and expect their adoring attention.

"(y/n), you ready? We gotta go."

"Yeah, just give me a second," the woman said, slightly breathless from her rushed actions of grabbing the jacket, her purse and making sure she had her phone. All that was left to do was quick her doofus goodbye and scuttle to the elevator so she could go and supervise Piper's big dinner, which she hoped would go better than when she'd met Ray's father at a family reunion. It's ever a good sign when someone refuses to shake your hand...

Anyway, as she leaned to peck Ray goodbye, her hands aiming to cup his cheeks, he swiftly caught her wrists and held them there, confused as to why she was rushing off all of a sudden with the teen. If she wasn't used to his limpet ways, his heartbroken stare would keep her by his side for the rest of her life because an inexperienced heart would never be able to resist those puppy dog eyes and that wobbly lip.

"I'll see you later, doo—"

"Huh? Where are you going? You can't go, sweet girl, we're so comfy on the couch... And you, you can't go either. You're at work!" Ray whined to her and when she rolled her eyes, kissed him lightly as per her original plan and pulled away to walk to the elevator with Henry, his annoyance and self-pity were redirected to him. Of course, Ray couldn't show how desperate he was to keep his precious fiancée to himself, that would make him look sad, but Henry's dedication to his job provided a good enough excuse.

"Somebody stole a truck full of fancy ham with exploding blue—" he tried to argue, thinking that saying something about them needing to catch some delicatessen thieves would keep his sidekicks in his sights. It was unlikely that the thief would be so stupid as to show themselves so soon but it was his argument and he was sticking to it. No matter how pathetic and poor it was. Or how the replacement blender worked against him.

"Dang it! Do not leave with my wi—fiancée!"

"Oh, we can't hear what you're saying because the blender is too loud!" Henry yelled, hearing every word his boss said but the blender was too good to dismiss. This was his and (y/n)'s ticket out of here and even if she was blushing at the nearly missed slip of the tongue, he wasn't gonna leave her here. Piper needed her expertise and it would probably do Ray some good to function as a single organism for once, rather than live in codependency with her.

"I need you both to stay and help me with this situation—"

"Don't worry, Ray, we can cuddle and snuggle and stuff after I got to Henry's house!" (y/n) shouted to her lover and hers was the best offer of comfort he'd get since Henry was unsympathetic. However, that just wasn't good enough because everything had happened so quickly; one minute, she'd been napping in his lap, his to love and no one else's, and now, she was leaving for the rest of the night. No fair.

"No!"

"Go?!"

"No! Stay!... Baby—"

"Go away, Henry?" Oh, the kid was loving this. Every time Ray said something, he used the noise to spin it his way, even when the man tried to use his macho appeal, muscles and all, to woo his sweet girl into stepping out of the elevator and into his warm embrace. It wouldn't work, though, not even on (y/n) and she was soppy for those biceps and that lithe waist, which seemed particularly attractive in his stretched shirt.

"No!"

"Okay, goodbye!"

"I'll see you later, sweetheart! I love you!" The heroine called out and waved sweetly as the elevator door slid shut until the last thing Ray of her was the kiss she blew just for him. He also saw Henry's smug face, which caused him to clench his fists, annoyed that the teen had outwitted him again. But underneath the aggravation, there was a tingling feeling in his tummy that was strong enough to cause his toes to curl as it spread to his chest. Henry might have taken her away but even apart, his feelings were still strong.

"I love you too..." it was nothing more than a mumble, more to himself than anyone else since (y/n) was headed for the store above his head, but it didn't matter. She knew in her heart that he said it back.

~Henry's house~

"Hey! What's up, family?! I've brought (y/n) as prom—oh my god, what is that smell?!" Henry gasped as he lead (y/n) into his house, both of them full of smiles and giggles about how they had each other for moral support, up until the point when they stepped into the house. That's when the wall hit them. A wall of putrid fish and pungent cheese.

"Ew, it smells like my granny's house when she had twenty cats and an addiction to Stilton," the woman retched as she stepped into the living room and if she was ten per cent less kind, she'd have immediately bolted back outside when the offending stench hit her nostrils. She wasn't the type to offend her hosts by saying that their house smelled like a salmon-scented sock but dear god, the Man Cave seemed like heaven right now.

"Shhhhh!" Mr Hart came rushing over, shushing their gags and slip-of-the-tongue comments before his touchy daughter heard something derogatory. He'd made that mistake earlier and had barely lived to regret it.

"I'm cooking!" Piper announced, popping up from behind the kitchen counter with a wooden spoon in one hand and an oven mitt covering the other. Her cute outfit was wisely protected by an apron and she looked like she was hard at work, slaving over a hot stove to prepare a banquet that was stinking out the house. Well, (y/n) couldn't fault her effort, just the execution.

"Oh, that's what smells so gooood..." "Thanks..." she didn't look at all convinced by her brother's cautious compliment, which had been guided by Mr Hart to be gentle and kind, but the girl perked up when she looked at their surprise guest instead, "hey, (y/n/n)! Glad you could come! I need to know all of your secrets about impressing your boyfriend's family!"

"Uh, right, okay, well, there's a lot to say—" the woman stuttered, trying to think of some advice for her as she dashed around the kitchen. Maybe something tactful about throwing whatever she was cooking in the trash and making a simple salad or something about how his family would surely be as embarrassing as hers, but Henry cut her tongue short and dragged her and his father to the side.

"You didn't tell me Piper was cooking!" He hissed to his dad, baffled by the fact that he'd been conned into coming over and bringing his friend, just to be subjected to the poisoning that would be Piper's food. She wasn't allowed to cook very often for that sole reason but in the past, people had been known to vomit profusely, throw lumps under the table and tell elaborate lies just to get out of dinner. It was that bad.

"She's making fish lasagne. Each layer is a different fish!" Jake exclaimed and (y/n) felt like she could vomit at that idea. Fish was good, refined and classic, but fish lasagne was straight-up revolting.

"Oh, god, that makes me want to throw up just thinking about it. She told me she was gonna make pizza!" She whispered to Mr Hart, recalling the afternoon when she, Piper and Charlotte were sitting at a cafe table and discussing her plan of action for wooing both her boyfriend and his family. Pizza was suggested because it was simple, straightforward and everyone loves pizza, unlike lasagne, which was tricky, complicated and not everyone's cup of tea.

"She was making pizza! But then it turned into mush so she scraped it into a dish and is now calling it lasagne!" The frantic man replied and the boy and woman shudder and hug themselves for comfort. So, essentially, they were being served bread-like, tomato paste with a few chunks of fish thrown in there. Nice.

"Hey, guys! Does catfish ever go bad?" Piper suddenly asked from the kitchen and when they looked over, they saw that she was cradling a slimy fish in her hands. Oh god, if she had to ask that question then the night was gonna be a long one.

"Er, yeah, any fish can go—" "It's probably fine," Ignoring (y/n)'s words after giving the fish a quick whiff, the girl started having it into bits. No wonder her father was holding his stomach, he was probably having a vision of the upset stomachs they were gonna have tonight.

"Man, we're outta here! Come on, (y/n)!" Henry exclaimed and he seized the heroine's arm. Work was work and he'd have to grovel to his boss for taking away his sweet girl but anything was better than eating that slop. And he didn't hate (y/n) enough to subject her to such torture, after all, she was like a sister to him and she didn't give him rotten fish.

"No, don't take Miss (y/n) away, Piper will go insane!" The man begged with wide eyes and held onto (y/n)'s other arm for dear life. Jeez, they made poor Piper sound like a monster, "I've hidden food all over the house. We can pretend to eat Piper's food, but really we can..." Mr Hart guided the two over to the shelving in the middle of the room, where he picked up a book with a mischievous smirk.

"Catch up on our reading..." he grinned and opened it halfway through the story, where the entirety of the middle of the book had been carved out to leave a hidden compartment. And in that compartment, he had sneakily hidden lots of little cubes of cheese, perfect for snacking on and staving off the hunger that would come when dinner was ready but inedible.

"Ahhh, book cheese." "Yep. I've finally found a good use for books," The father and son smirked at each other as the trio each took a piece of cheese and nibbled on it. To be fair to the man, it was ingenious and (y/n) silently admired him for his ingenuity but at the same time, it did feel a little mean. She was raised to eat anything put on her plate, to not offend her host, namely Piper; sneaking around and eating breadcrumbs and tidbits here and there seemed so wrong.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be on a liquid cleanse." "Whatever..." "Your resilience is impeccable but isn't this a bit...mean? What if Piper—" the woman could gloss over how Henry had changed his mind about the stupid night vision as quickly as the idea came to him, but she couldn't overlook that Piper wasn't stupid. Or deaf. Or blind. Even now she could see that they were up to something.

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" She asked from the kitchen, almost like her ears were burning from her friend mentioning her name. Three of them crowded around a dusty old book, that didn't look suspicious at all.

"Um...we are reading." "A book." "So many great words..." Mr Hart started the lie and then, all Henry and (y/n) could do was follow it up with shaking voices and a prayer that she'd buy it. Luckily, she did and with a final weirded-out look, Piper returned to her murdering of perfectly good ingredients when Henry found himself with a hankering.

"I like this cheese but now I want some bread," he hissed in his dad's ear, expecting him to shrug and say that he'd just have to save himself for the fish lasagne that started life as a pizza, but oh no. His father had thought ahead for once in his life.

"Walk with me..." he murmured and turned to walk towards the front door with the curious boy and woman following him, "Oh, Henry, Miss (y/n)! Come look at this box of Fresno Girl dolls that Piper brought home today."

"I'd love to, daddy!" "Yeah...there's no way I'm saying that," (y/n) shuddered at the word and what connotations it held but looked at the pretty dolls all the same. Every girl wanted the Fresno collection when she was little and all of the little accessories, so it made her wonder why Piper would want them since she was at the age to stop caring about things like that. They were new models too, not the nostalgic kind that was around when the girl was younger, so that could be it, yet she seemed so protective.

"Be careful, those are worth a lot of money." "Oh, we will, Piper!" Mr Hart promised her. Now, it was clear, they were collectables, valuable, a get-rich-quick ticket in plastic and synthetic cotton form, which was why she wanted them, although her dad had been far from careful with her little money-makers.

"Would you like some bread...from a head?!" To their shock, Mr Hart presented the sidekicks with small slices of white bread that he'd carefully hidden in one of the dolls' heads. By pulling back the hair, he could morbidly offer them a slice and now they were starting to get the idea. He had eatables stashed everywhere.

"We should hang out more," Henry smirked and took a slice, jumping when his dad playfully snapped the head shut on his fingers. There was no way (y/n) could agree; she'd given up a quiet night with her lover for this and even though she'd try and give Piper the world to make her happy, no one brought her joy as her doofus did. She'd understand that one day, maybe if she and this Barnaby kid got a little more serious.

Ding-dong.

Speaking of serious, it was time. The ringing of the doorbell was symbolic of Benjamin's arrival and with him, the people had to please so on the sound of the last night, she sprung into action. The house looked nice, her family were...meh, she had her wingwoman overseeing and ready to intervene if she slipped up, all she had to do was open the door.

"Oh, jeez, they're here!" She exclaimed and stopped what she was doing so she could rush over to the door. Meanwhile, Henry, Mr Hart and (y/n) straightened up, pretending like they weren't snacking in preparation for a night with no food and the girl had some rules for her entourage. "Be nice, tuck in that shirt, don't talk about your job or say anything embarrassing...and (y/n), do I look cute?"

"Very cute. Now, relax, open the door and don't put your hand out until they do," the woman replied instantly, smoothing Piper's hair and giving her one last tip before pushing her towards the door. Yeah, she'd learnt that the hard way; don't initiate handshakes, being left with your hand in the air made you feel so dumb. One last sigh and a look at her family and friend and she opened the door to see her boyfriend's adorable face and someone else.

"Aloha! Party time!" A woman greeted her before she could say anything and (y/n)'s eyebrows hit the roof when she pinched Piper's cheeks and waddled in. To say she was a hot mess was putting it lightly; the woman had messy hair that had been teased to hell, weirdly finished with a random red flower pinned in the rat's nest, and clothes that looked like they'd come from a jumble sale. Her makeup wasn't brilliant, that eyeshadow made her look like a panda and...oh god, her jeans looked dirty and where were her shoes? Honestly, Piper had nothing to worry about, not really.

"I'm Jake, a project manager and I'd like to be in an adult choir." "What did I just say?" Well, not much anyway. Her dad was embarrassing but it seemed like the boyfriend's mother was too, so it was a level playing field because what family isn't full of weirdos? The woman was certainly mortifying for her well-mannered son, who appeared to be stressed already as she plonked herself down on the couch without asking and put a dirty foot on the cushions without a second thought.

"Sorry, I'm not wearing shoes. Last week, I was mowing my lawn barefoot and cut m'toe off," she explained and lifted her left foot so they could see the grubby bandages wrapped around it. Well, it was a decent excuse, although it didn't cover her appealing manners, something which gave (y/n) a hint that they were gonna be the best of friends, her and this...yokel.

"Mom! I told you not to talk about your missing toe! And tuck in your shirt!" The boy told her and he made (y/n) melt when he gave his girlfriend an apologetic look. Well, at least he cared and Piper didn't seem to mind, she had enough problems with her dad, although not quite as many as this odd woman did.

"I can't! It's hiding a stain on my jeans. It'd shaped like a cow, see?" She replied childishly and made everyone feel uncomfortable when she peeled back her shirt and stuck out her ass to show them the uncanny mark of a cow on the lowest part of her back. She was right, it looked like a cow but Henry looked at (y/n) and (y/n) looked at Henry, sharing the same thought; that's not how you behave when you're meeting the family of your boy's girl.

"Touch it! Go on, touch it! Make it moo!" Her offer was even weirder and made Mr Hart and the sidekicks feel uncomfortable as she prodded at the stain. Yeah, there was no way that they were gonna put their hand on some unknown substance or better yet, her butt.

"I don't—I don't wanna—I don't wanna make it moo." "I'd rather keep my hands to myself..." they muttered quietly and thought of the serenity of the Man Cave to try and stay sane. Thankfully, Piper's boyfriend knew how to read the room and upon sensing how odd his mother was being, he stepped forward to politely introduce himself to Mr Hart with manners that could charm any girl's father. But, lucky for him, Jake Hart wasn't intimidating or particularly strict with who Piper could or couldn't date.

"Nice to meet you, sir. I'm Billy Bilsky." "Nice to meet you, Billy," Mr Hart said and (y/n) suddenly remembered that yes, that was the kid's name and he was just as nice and cute as Piper had described him. He seemed to hit it off with her dad so that was good and to her surprise, he even turned to smile at her and offer his hand for her to shake too—like she was family.

"Hi, Piper never mentioned she had a sister and you're obviously too young to be her mom," Billy said with a laugh making his banter light and adorable. Oh, he knew what he was doing, that little charmer, and the woman warmly shook his hand as she blushed, even though she was as much a guest as he was.

"Oh, please, stop it. I'm not her sister and definitely not her mother, I'm just—" she brushed off his comments with a bat of her eyelashes and clarified that she wasn't family, she was just the one who knew how boyfriends and family dinners worked since Mrs Hart was strangely absent. Piper seemed to melt into a puddle at how her boyfriend worked so well with her family, wowed by how he seemed to charm them so well that no one noticed how one small detail had perturbed Henry into a thoughtful silence.

"(y/n) is like my big sister, so she's here for dinner too. And this is—" Piper butted in, stunning (y/n) with her open-hearted revelation and her lip trembled from the sentiment. She knew Piper liked her but never like that and had she been alone or in closer company then she probably would've shed a tear or two, but Henry distracted her with a startling observation.

"Ehhhhhh...did you just say, Bilsky?" He asked the boy, who didn't see anything wrong but for Henry, that name meant nothing but pain and misery. It was a coincidence, right? There were a lot of Bilsky's in Swellview, it didn't mean that he was in danger of the worst evening of his life, not at all. There was no need for him to look at (y/n) like he was pleading for his life, right?

"That's right! I'm Britney Bilsky, three-time Miss Swellview Face Puncher," the odd lady, or Britney, told him with a proud smirk on her face. She obviously thought that she was something she wasn't or else she wouldn't offer the kid her hand to kiss as if she was royalty expecting a peasant to show her some respect. Bilsky, Bilsky...where had (y/n) heard that before? It certainly wasn't because this woman was famous because let's be honest, she wasn't likely to be any other kind of Miss Swellview.

"Yeah, I don't wanna touch that—look, you don't happen to have a son named Mitch, do you?" Henry asked her nervously and suddenly, everything fell into place for (y/n). Wasn't he the bully from Henry's school? The one that everyone hated because he was mean and very, very stupid? The one who'd been in high school longer than anyone else? That Mitch Bilsky? But before Mrs Bilsky could say yes or no, the door swung open again and all of Henry's nightmares were realised.

"No stinkin' way! Well, if it ain't Henry J. Fart!" "Mitch Bilsky..." Henry swallowed nervously and dared to look the bully in the eye. He wasn't dreaming a very horrible dream, this was real; Mitch Bilsky, the biggest asshole in Swellview High was standing in his house, mocking him in front of his family because he was in the family of his sister's boyfriend.

He couldn't make this shit up but he tried to not seem intimidated (even though he definitely was) and didn't even flinch when Mitch unexpectedly turned to greet his mother after his late arrival.

"Mommy..." the man or boy (it was hard to tell) said sweetly to his mother and pecked her on the forehead, which would be the nicest thing he did tonight by all accounts. Right, (y/n) remembered this guy now, the unmissable hungry stare he gave her made her mind fall back to the few times they'd met, once as herself and a couple of times as Miss Danger. He loved to flirt like he wasn't still in high school and she was already an adult in a committed relationship and she felt for the kid as much as she felt for herself - this was gonna be a long night.

"J? Henry's middle name is Prudence." "Ha! Prudence?!" Oh, Henry wished he could punch his dad on the nose right now. There were very few people who knew his middle name, (y/n) being one of them after Charlotte told her in a fit of giggles once, but he'd never planned on telling it to Mitch on the count that it was humiliating and the guy loved to mock people in the cruellest ways. Great, he was gonna be subjected to oodles of mockery now, thanks to his dearest father.

"So, it's Henry Pee-Fart?" Mitch joked and his mother cackled even harder. Henry wasn't laughing, not one bit, and he felt the heroine next to him slowly pat him on the back as he took the mean joke with gritted teeth.

"Oh, this dinner's gonna rock!" The bully exclaimed and slapped Henry on the back too, his hand hitting (y/n)'s, which caused her to leap back from the icky touch. That was one way of putting it.

"Oh, I'm sure the hours will fly by," she replied dryly and folded her arms as his laughter died down but strangely, his face stayed twisted in a smirk. Was there something on her face?

"I hope not. I like to savour every moment when I'm in the company of such a pretty girl. Say, how about you and me sit together at dinner?" He asked slyly with a twinkle in his eye that would make any woman want to run for the hills but (y/n) stood her ground and merely rolled her eyes. She'd dealt with creeps before and she was hardly gonna get goosebumps from a guy who'd couldn't graduate, so it was just a case of telling him how it was as usual.

"You could try but my fiancé might have something to say about it," she replied, which made the corners of his mouth drop ever so slightly. However, his eyes still looked keen as if he was willing to still try it on, so she went again, this time slipping in a small threat just to make it clear.

"Or, y'know, he's not very good with words so he might just punch you instead," the heroine shrugged and left a slightly paler-looking Mitch to stand like a lemon as she headed to sit on the edge of the couch.

She needed a sit-down after that, and Henry agreed, so he followed her. It meant that she didn't have to make conversation with Mrs Bilsky alone and when Piper and Billy slipped into the kitchen for loving teen giggles, they were joined by Mr Hart too—but not Mitch. Wisely, he kept his distance and sloped off upstairs with nothing more than a mumble about needing the bathroom and he'd already turned around when his host told him the location, so no one saw the cunning look on his face. Honestly, they were just glad he was gone for a minute.

"So..." Mrs Bilsky started, doing her best to make conversation as she slobbed into the cushion and looked at the prissy boy and the stuck-up girl who'd rejected her son. Mitchie could do a lot better than her, she had too many frills and manners to be suitable, plus, that engagement she just loved flaunting was a real problem.

"Where's your mom? Jail?" "No," Henry replied instantly, looking at her with a baffled expression. Not everyone had a criminal record, his mom was far too nice for that. Although, he didn't know where she was or what she was doing and who with right now.

"My husband's in jail. So's my daughter, you ever meet Bysh?" She asked, looking from that chick wing of a girl to Mr Hart, who was weird but tolerable for her.

"Yes! I think she used to bully Henry and (y/n)'s good friend, Charlotte," Jake noted and the sidekicks slowly nodded. God, the Byshelle Bilsky incident seemed so long ago, Ray hadn't even proposed at that point and to this day, the girl still felt bad enough about what had gone down to occasionally visit Bysh with homemade cookies and cakes. The judge hadn't been very lenient and it was their fault that she was serving a very long, undeserved prison sentence.

"Aw...she and my husband share a father-daughter cell," the woman divulged and only to be polite, Henry and (y/n) gave her small smiles at the weird fact.

"Cosy..." "Ain't that nice to hear..."

"What'd you call me? Huh? What you saying, Barbie?" However, Mrs Bilsky didn't take their attempt to be nice very well and they freaked when she sat bolt upright and stared them down from behind her spider-leg eyelashes. Okay... she was one of those mad bull mothers, who caught one whiff of a possible insult against her family and charged down whoever was in her path, whether they meant to upset her or not.

"Uh..." "Hey, guys!" And for once in his life, Henry was glad that Mitch had just returned to the room, "Guess who I am!"

Or not. Mitch appeared at the top of the stairs and obviously, he hadn't only been to the bathroom. His old clothes were gone and the kid blanched when he recognised the tight, yellow plaid that was now straining at the buttons from his rounded belly. As he came downstairs, his mouth hit the floor and (y/n) couldn't help but frown because that wasn't funny, it was just a violation of Henry's privacy, not that Mrs Bilsky seemed to care. Her laughing merely egged her son on even more.

"Okay, I'll give you a hint. My middle name is Prudence and I look like a weenus!" The bully said and he came to pose in front of the door as Mr Hart dumbly played into his games.

"Ooh! Ooh! You're Henry! You're Henry!" He exclaimed, loving the little guessing game they were playing and he didn't realise at all that he wasn't doing Henry any favours, not even when the boy sat up to stare at his stretched shirt in horror.

"Dude, those are my clothes. What were you doing up in my room?!" he said in disbelief. The shirt was misshapen and ruined now that the seams had been pulled at and that was a real shame because he'd liked that shirt, not that Mitch seemed to care. He found it hilarious that he'd managed to sneak into the kid's closet to mock him from the inner sanctum of his home and private space.

"Rubbing my butt on your pillow," Mitch snarked, emphasising the word "butt" just to piss Henry off. Was it childish? Yeah. Did he care? Not one bit. He lived for cheap laughs and making fun of people was the easiest way of getting those laughs, plus, Henry Hart was the easiest target, so he was loving the evening in the same way the boy was hating it.

"Are you serious?!" "You wish," Mitch was toying with him and (y/n) put her hand on Henry's knee as her way of telling him to not take the bait as the guy turned to poke around the mantelpiece, only to find one of Mr Hart's cheese stashes in a cleverly placed book.

"Oooh, book cheese!" Mr Hart's head whipped to his son and the young lady sat with him and his face was practically screaming for them to distract the hulking man-child before his scheme was revealed to his daughter. Good thing (y/n) was a quick thinker or Mr Hart would wake up in the morning with a shaved head and a permanent marker moustache.

"Uh...Piper? Do you wanna get this dinner started so the Bilskys can eat and get on their way? That's what I'd do if I was feeding my boyfriend," she yelled to the girl in the kitchen, which was so sneaky of her but it seemed to work as Piper downed her utensils and prepared to serve her...fishy delights.

"We're good to go! Now, does anyone not want whipped cream on their fish lasagne?" She replied happily and carried the hot dish over to the dinner table, where a can of cream had ominously been waiting. Oh god, they'd assumed that it had been put there for dessert, never in their wildest dreams had they imagined that the sweetened dairy goodness would have to mix with a million different kinds of fish. She was a culinary vision, all right.

"Well, Piper, I think I'm gonna hold off on the whi—" "No, no, no! Hold it right there, missy!" Mrs Bilsky interrupted, practically smashing her finger against (y/n)'s lips as she tactfully tried to get Piper to hold off on giving her any cream. She wasn't sure if her stomach could take that and she didn't fancy making Ray soothingly stroke her back and take care of her as she puked into the toilet all night. But she didn't have to in the end because it wasn't her protest that was heard.

"No one's having whipped cream on anything until 'til my other son gets here," she told them all with a firmness that only came after many years as a dominating matriarch. That was news to them; Henry didn't know Mitch had a brother and (y/n) couldn't imagine what the family could be like if her son was anything like the bully. Maybe, if they were very lucky, he was like Billy and that would mean Mitch was the rotten apple in the barrel.

"Oh? You have another son?" (y/n) asked sweetly as if it was just a turn in the conversation and not her prying for more information but the moment the question left her mouth, there was a raucous outside. The sound of brakes screeching was followed by a crash that filled the evening air and caused the Hart family, plus guest, to straighten up and look towards the door.

"I sure do, ironing board. That's him!" The mother grinned back at her, although it was decidedly sourer than what (y/n) had offered her. The way she described this son of hers made him sound like a maniac because who knows someone's arrival by the sound of their poor parking?

"Is this the right house?" A confused voice sounded from the porch but its accompanying body was still out of sight. However, there was a note in that voice, a slow and bumbling lilt that resounded with the sidekicks as they sat on the sofa and strangely enough, they could swear that they'd heard it before.

"I know that voice. Why do I know that voice?" "Yeah, it's weird..." (y/n) agreed with Henry as their eyes met but for the life of them, they couldn't place it. They'd met many people in their lives and didn't know if it was someone from the TV or work or school without matching it to a face. The seconds ticked by as the mystery person approached and it was on the tip of their tongues as heavy footsteps approached the door and suddenly, a hilarious thought came to (y/n)'s mind. It was dumb because it couldn't be him but there was a similarity.

"Y'know, it's weird but it kinda sounds like—" "We're in here, Jeff!"

"I know that name. Why do I know that name?" "Henry, it couldn't be...could it?" (y/n) asked in horror as Mrs Bilsky put a name to the voice, the same name that had flashed in the woman's mind before she promptly dismissed it because it was ridiculous to think that the universe would be that cruel. There were lots of Jeffs in Swellview, it didn't mean that the dumbest one was Bilsky, it was probably just her imagination running away with her. Until it wasn't.

"Hi. I hit your mailbox with my car," a huge oaf of a man said as he waltzed into the house and shut the door behind him, a mailbox in one hand and a white box tucked under the opposite arm.

Dear god, it was Jeff. Not a Jeff, the Jeff, the dumbest criminal in Swellview, sworn enemy of Captain Man, Miss Danger and Kid Danger. The sidekicks could've been knocked over with a feather because this was so uncanny that it was almost comical. Jeff was a Bilsky, which explained a lot given how oafishly similar he was to Mitch, so it made sense that they shared genetics, but it also made things so much worse.

Now, they had to spend the entire evening with their enemy, the guy who could irritate anyone into jumping off a cliff and the best part about it was that they couldn't show their frustration. Henry and (y/n) didn't know this Jeff, only Captain Man's sidekicks did and right now, there wasn't anything super about them.

"Sweet cheese..." "Noooooo!" "Yeah!" Jeff ignored the skinny boy's shout of disgust, assuming that he was referring to the broken mailbox and instead focused on his family, well the ones that weren't in prison.

"Jeff!" "Mitch!" "Son!" "Ma!" "No!" "Yeah!" Henry was appalled at the little family reunion they seemed to be having but his petrified state didn't seem to phase them as Jeff walked into the couch area and tossed Mr Hart the victim of his moronic driving. The Man Cave was calling them, the Man Cave was calling them—

He warmly hugged his mom and Mitch and if (y/n) wasn't repulsed by his very existence then she would've found it quite sweet; all she could think about was how she now had to put up with Mitch flirting on one side of her and Jeff on the other because like his so-called brother, the numskull loved to flirt with Miss Danger and occasionally her, not that she ever reciprocated.

'Hey, bro. Why are you dressed like that? You look like a weenus," Jeff asked Mitch as they pulled away from the hug and it was then that the petty criminal noticed the poorly fitting, lame button-down that his brother was wearing. Oh, good, here came the insults and Henry could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Oh, yeah, nah, I was just making fun of him!" "Classic Mitch!" The teen clenched his fists and stood up as he took an emotional battering from his personal enemy and his professional one. It was bad enough with one but with two? He was certain that he wasn't gonna make it through the night without punching something or someone.

"You put your butt on his pillow?" "Ha! He wishes," now that they stood together, (y/n) noted that the familiar resemblance was striking and she scolded herself for not putting two and two together before but she scolded herself even more for not being able to come up with an insult clever enough to get them to back off from her friend.

"I do not wish that!" "Oh, relax, you weenus. Hi, I'm Jeff," the beefy idiot didn't care if he was being a jerk or not and in a surprisingly respectful gesture, held his hand out for Henry as though they'd never met before. Little did he know, however, that they had and for Henry, exchanging pleasantries with the guy who'd caused him many headaches and long nights over the years was just too much to ask.

"Nope." He straight-out refused to shake the man's hand, even though (y/n) had previously mentioned that there was nothing more awkward. He just couldn't do it, not when Jeff had made the lives of those in the Man Cave so miserable on so many occasions and even though the boy wasn't his alter ego right now, he couldn't betray himself or his boss like that.

"Okay..." it didn't seem to phase the man, though, he looked the scrawny kid up and down with a confused face before turning to the...rather attractive lady next to him. "Hubba-hubba, pretty lady. The name's Jeffrey but you...you can call me Jeff."

"You can call me (y/n), Jeff, because that's my name. Not pretty lady," the heroine replied calmly and managed to shake his hand politely without grimacing at how sweaty they were. She'd deliberately held out her left one, hoping that the twinkling diamonds there were enough to tell him that she was already spoken for and therefore unlikely to give him what he was so clearly after but unlike his brother, Jeff didn't seem to take a hint. Hey, a handshake is like a first kiss, right? It shows interest, right?

"A pretty name for a pretty lady," he smirked and slyly lifted her hand towards his face as though he was going to o leave a suave kiss on the back of her hand. (y/n), sensing the worst, pulled back the minute he got too close and snapped her head to Henry for help but he wasn't bringing any ideas. Even he didn't expect Jeff to be so forward.

"Bro, she's not worth it. Apparently, she has a dumb boyfriend or something and he's really tough. She didn't even want a slice of Mitch's pie," Mitch warned his brother, having received the message about the woman's lover. He wasn't happy about it but in his mind, plenty of girls were chasing him and wanted to be his ride or die, so he figured that he could do without the aggro of someone coming to beat him up, even if she was hot. But even that wasn't enough to get Jeff to drop it.

"I bet he ain't that tough. Jeff could beat him up any day, any time. What's his name?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know him but I can guarantee that he'd wipe the floor with you," (y/n) replied carefully and painted a sugary sweet smile on her face as Jeff grew bored and left her alone...for now. She'd never reveal that she was dating the god amongst men that was Captain Man but secretly, she and Henry knew that she was speaking the truth. Jeff had faced Ray's strength before and never came out on top but that could be left as a surprise for him should he get handsy or mouthy.

"Hey, I brought a gift! For Billy's little filly." The moron moved on from the frigid woman and instead, reminded himself of the box that was still tucked under his arm. It wasn't much but he'd gone to a lot of trouble to bring it to the house after learning about his youngest brother's big night, so he wanted to show it off.

"What?" "Yeah, excuse me?" Piper frowned at his words and (y/n) was near outraged. She didn't like him referring to the girl like that like she was something fancy pet to show off but Jeff didn't get manners and stupid things like that. It seemed that Billy was a one-off in the family, a pristine apple that had managed to escape the rotting barrel or maybe the lone apple that had fallen so far from the tree that it had landed in the next field.

"The future Mrs Bilsky..." "Nope!" Okay, Jeff might as well have spat on his grandmother because Henry had never reacted to something so strongly in his life. The mere notion of him being forever tied to the Bilskys like that almost brought him out in a rash.

"The sister to this mister!" Jeff went on and hit Henry's last nerve when he roughly ruffled his hair, ruining the perfect quiff he'd formed with the fluff. He could insult him, he could bully him in his own home but no one, not even a guest touched his hair, it was one of his best features.

"Why don't you open the box, Jeff?" He prompted and ran his fingers through his hair to brush it into approximately the same style from before, even if it wasn't nearly as neat. Whatever was in that box better be good because it would take a miracle to get his parting right now that it had been messed with.

"Okay!" The criminal grinned and set his white box down on the table. The sidekicks watched him with suspicious eyes and the suspicion grew when they saw the gold lettering printed across the front. Venetian ham - go figure.

"What is it?" Piper asked, not knowing a lump of cured ham when she saw it.

"It's a Venetian Ham. From...Venetia," he told her dumbly, not knowing how to describe it since he hadn't bought it and therefore, hadn't learnt about it, including that it came from Venice. Everyone else was in awe but for (y/n) and Henry, they couldn't trust him because Jeff didn't have the dignity and manner to enter a respectable store that sold fancy ham, let alone the funds.

"Wait, isn't Venetian Ham like crazy expensive?" The girl questioned, looking at her boyfriend's brother with wide eyes because that was a very big gesture for him to give her when it was only the first family dinner.

"Yeah, and weren't a bunch of them stolen this morning?" Henry asked, remembering back to the news and the report. A nod from (y/n) was all he needed in confirmation and together, they gave Jeff some hard stares that made him squirm but weren't enough to make him crack.

"Uh...I don't know nothing about no stolen hams!" "Okay, then how did you pay for this one?" The woman asked and folded her arms. Everyone was listening closely, Piper and Billy stepping closer so they could hear his explanation because it was obvious that Jeff wasn't well-off or the type to spend his savings on a girl he barely knew and an evening he barely cared about. She had a point and he had to be good at lying.

"Well, I figured mom's gonna make bank when she sues the lawn mower company for cutting off her toe. So, why not spend that money now? On ham!" Jeff reasoned.

"Oh, he's the smart one!" His mother seemed to buy it and cuddled her son in a side hug at how brainy he supposedly was, which seemed to tickle Jeff pink.

"Well, let's dig in, jerks! This pork ain't gonna pig itself," Mitch announced, rubbing his hands together at the thought of chowing down on some prime ham instead of whatever garbage was stinking up the kitchen. He wasn't about to wait since he was perpetually hungry and without a moment's hesitation, everyone went to claw at the meat.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, stop!" Billy suddenly said, however, halting them in their tracks with a frown on his face. Even (y/n) and Henry were gonna dig in, despite them being suspicious because this was the fanciest ham in the world and it's not like they were gonna get any other decent food tonight, so they figured it was smart to eat now. But Billy, being the gent he was, had already thought of that.

"You know, Piper spent all day making fish lasagne with whipped cream. And you can smell all seven fishes," "Thanks, Billy..." Piper was touched at his kind words and how he stuck up for her rancid cooking, which meant she didn't see everyone's grimaces as she gazed at him adoringly. That was how a proper boyfriend behaved and the romantic in (y/n) made her coo in her head...but the rumbling of her tummy numbed the sentiment. He'd regret not eating the ham later.

"Uh-oh! I think someone's gonna kiss!" Jeff chuckled to Mitch, mocking the youngest of the brothers in a way that only brothers could do and Billy blushed with frustration and embarrassment when they jokingly smushed their faces together, an arm separating their lips, and pretended to kiss like tweens. They were partners in crime (sometimes literally) and it drove their kid brother up the wall.

"How are we related?!" "Relax! Ease down! Ease down! "I can't stand you! Why do you always hit people's mailboxes?!" And that's when the poor kid lost it. He was sick and tired of being the doormat in the family, the only normal one who wasn't destined to end up in a jail cell, which made him a target for cheap jibes. Anyone would be sick of it but a brawl was going to ruin the vending if they weren't careful, so it was Piper's job to keep the peace.

"Y'know, I never been to a family reunion or gathering where there hasn't been a fight," (y/n) mentioned to Henry, observing the slight dispute with a nonchalant attitude. Families fight, no big deal and sometimes, it provided great entertainment, even if Billy was certain to be pummelled if he, Jeff and Mitch started a punch-up.

"Okay, okay, okay!" Mr Hart finally stepped in and took control of his home, "let's all eat the fish lasagne, before it gets warm and then, we'll eat Jeff's ham," he suggested, which was something everyone could live with since the warmer the food, the more the flavour comes out. And no one wanted the lasagne's flavour stronger than it had to be. But, as Henry inclined his head at (y/n), telling her that they need to go to the porch, Mitch just had to step in and be a jerk yet again.

"Oh, hey, where you going, Prudence?" "Yeah, it's time to eat, Prudy," Mr Hart was doing his son no favours tonight. All Henry wanted to do was take his friend somewhere private so they could holocall Ray and tell him about the disturbing revelation involving Jeff, Mitch, etcetera, but they couldn't if people kept poking their noses in.

"Uh, (y/n) and I were just gonna go outside real quick and...fix the mailbox," he replied shakily when (y/n) snatched the thing from the sofa and darted her eyes to it frantically so they had an excuse. Right, that worked and before anyone could argue, he was already dragging her towards the door with a reassuring smile on his face. At least they bought it.

"Make sure to save Henry an extra slice of fish lasagne with double whipped cream!—Hey, watch it!" (y/n) giggled at her small, teasing joke, only to gasp when the kid yanked her by the hand so hard that she nearly tripped face first onto the decking outside. He gave her a semi-apologetic look that faded when she refused to let her bemused smile slip and he instead focused on immediately flipping his watch open to call Ray.

To be honest, it wasn't that surprising how quickly the man picked up—less than a second after the holocaller had started beeping. And the boy and woman could predict why; it was a dead cert that Ray had been hovering around the machine, his cell and the computer all night—since they left—waiting for the slightest bit of news or attention from his sidekick, whether it be from his darling girl or the one that dragged her away.

"Hey, sweetheart!" "Ray! We really need to talk to you about—" Henry's urgent voice followed (y/n)'s sweet greeting and the little wave she gave her future husband, who beamed brightly at the small yet still adorable image of her flickering on the device in front of him. It was almost magical to hear her voice again and the only thing that spoiled it was the fact that he could barely hear it because of the annoying, interfering white noise that came from behind him.

"Hey, darlin'—I'm sorry, Henry, you're both gonna have to speak up! The science freak keeps fixing the blender," the hero explained, glancing over his shoulder to look at Schwoz, who at the request of Jasper and Charlotte kept fixing the infernal thing whenever he shot at it. So, he was gonna have to yell at his sweet girl, which he hated doing but he knew she'd understand. It was just a blessing to be able to see her again.

"We can't speak up! My family's inside with the Bilskys, they'll hear us!" Henry replied, trying to convey how big of a pickle they were in despite how difficult it was, what with the noise and danger of someone in the house overhearing. And upon hearing whatever he mumbled, Ray found himself intrigued and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't want to talk to his lover all night, so he needed to shut the blender up before they could continue.

"Just—just hang on a second—" Ray told them and held his hand up so they'd wait whilst he took a moment to grab his laser controller and fire a few shots at the newly rewired machine across the room. Ah, peace at last. "You were saying?"

Ignoring the angry voices that came from the boy's watch, (y/n) picked her tongue up off the floor from how hot he looked when he folded his arms and focused on the task at hand. "Doofus, you know that truck full of Venetian Hams that got stolen?"

"Oh, yeah...the fancy hams with the exploding blue dye," Ray recalled, unashamedly doing the same thing with her as he studied every little detail that he'd missed in the hour or so she'd been away. God, she looked pretty in the moonlight but at the mention of work, he cleared his throat slightly and paid attention, promising his heart that they could love on her the moment she came home.

"We know who stole them!" "Who, sweet girl?" He perked up at that and looked at his sidekicks inquisitively as they shared an excited glance. Oh, they'd tell him, who could refuse that adorable face? Well, Henry could but he hated Jeff as much as the next person and that was (y/n), who equally hated Jeff as much as she adored her doofus.

"The dumbest criminal in Swellview..." "The one who loves to flirt with me..." Henry teased, followed by the hint that (y/n) couldn't help but throw in there. It didn't take long for the man to work out who they were talking about and the second he did, Ray clenched his fist tightly in annoyance, infuriated at the thought of that moronic punk making life difficult for him again.

"Jeff?" "Jeff!" They confirmed and they shared his anger. Henry didn't like having to work late nights for something so petty and (y/n) was rather fond of those ruined date nights too.

"Yeff?" "No, Jeff! Man, Schwoz, you really need to work on that pronunciation..." the woman corrected the small man when she heard his confused little voice in the background. Without the rowdy blender, the three juicers could hear what was being said and they had to admit that Jeff wasn't someone they'd expected to hear about tonight.

"How'd you know it was Jeff?" Ray asked curiously and Henry was itching to tell him the big news.

"Because he's at my house right now and he just showed up with an expensive Venetian Ham!" The kid exclaimed and it only served to answer some of Ray's questions. Now, he had a lot more, mainly about why his young friend and sweet girl were enjoying the company of someone so irritating, especially when that someone had a bad habit of flirting with his girl. He swore; if Jeff had been even slightly flirty, he'd knock his damn head off.

"Why is Jeff at your house?" "Because his brother is dating Piper, Henry's sister, doof!" (y/n) said, making it clear for him since he wasn't good with names. For the eavesdroppers listening in on the situation, it was the juiciest gossip of the week because Piper's dating was big but this was just colossal. The whole thing was as complicated as if it were a soap opera and with each revelation, more questions were asked.

"Piper is dating Jeff's brother?" Charlotte asked from across the room. She'd been kept in the loop with Piper's relationship status as much as the young woman had but this was news to her. No one had mentioned anything about that Billy boy's family apart from that she found him sweet and the idea of dinner stressful but sweeter still. She almost wished she was there herself now.

"Yes! Jeff is a Bilsky!" "Piper's dating a Bilsky?!" It was Jasper's turn to ask and like the others, he was utterly confused. He'd known Piper for many years now and was very aware of her high standards, so when he heard the name Bilsky, style and class weren't two words that came to mind, something that Henry and (y/n) were very aware of.

"Yes! Mitch Bilsky is at his house and so is his mom and so is his older brother, Jeff!" The woman explained that they were being attacked from all sides, Bilsky style and that confirmation were all Ray needed to make up his mind. If those bozos were there then he just knew that they'd tried it on with his sweet girl at least once and that boiled his blood as much as the stolen ham.

"You keep him there, Henry! You keep him there! And make sure he doesn't flirt with my girl!" the hero growled and yanked his gum tube from his back pocket. Soon, Jeff and maybe his brother, Mitch, would be facing off with Captain Man and then, the criminal really would see how tough her "boyfriend or whatever" was. And he would take great delight in doing so.

"No, no, no, no, Raymond! We can't ruin this dinner party for Piper, she really likes this boy!" (y/n) immediately argued, seeing how worked up he was getting and bubble-happy. It would've been nice to see those buffoons get what was coming to them, especially after putting up with their unsubtle, lewd staring all night but the night wasn't about them or their comfort, it was about Piper making a good impression.

If her adorably protective doofus came in now and started throwing fists, then the night would be ruined and the young couple's memory of their first family dinner would be awful...or worse. Who knows, maybe Billy would call the whole thing off if his brothers got locked up and that just wouldn't do.

"Yeah, well, you know who else is having a dinner party right now?" Ray asked, his tone changing to that slightly petulant one that Henry and (y/n) both hated.

"Don't say justice..." the boy begged. He'd worked with the childish man long enough to know when he was going to say something stupid and cringy, like right now - a perfect moment for him to say something dumb because he was losing the argument. And of course, he'd never properly bicker with his sweet girl if he could help it, so pettiness it was.

"Justice!" And he said it, and in that Batman-like growl of his that he only adopted when he was trying to sound cool. Sometimes it worked, and anyone and everyone could see the shiver that ran through (y/n)'s body, but other times, like now, it just made him sound ridiculous and all made them sigh tiredly.

"I'm on my way to your house!" "No, Raymond, we'll wait until dinner's over and then, we can go to Jeff's apartment and arrest him there," the heroine countered to try and diffuse the situation before her doofus did something rash. Once the dinner was over and bridges were built, they would be free to go and burn them without tying the Harts to it—and if he wanted to, Ray could punch Jeff for daring to take his place.

"Did he flirt with you?" The question caught her off-guard and so did the smouldering gaze he gave her, which was remarkably strong given how it was blurred by the holocall. He always knew how to look directly into her soul with those piercing eyes and it made her weak at the knees but also rather tongue-tied.

"Uh—well...that's not the point—" "Did he flirt with you?" Ray insisted, looking almost desperate for an answer because it would dictate his next actions. How could his sweet girl lie to him? That kicked puppy look always got to her.

"Okay, yes, he did but as I said, doofus, we should wait—" "No, new plan!—" Ray didn't like cutting her off but now that he knew the truth, he was inspired with new fury and was eager to rock up to the Harts' house and start throwing fists. However, just when he was about to elaborate on this ingenious plan of his, Henry, to his horror, had no choice but to rudely hang up on his boss, which earned him one of (y/n)'s glares. Her fiancé was talking, what gives?

"What the—" "Shhh!" Henry's hand was suddenly clasped over her mouth, much to her shock but he had a very good reason. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd spotted a figure coming up the driving, dodging between pools of moonlight in the shadows and it was instinctive to close the Whiz Watch before the woman got too close. They weren't talking to a little floating man, no way; they were fixing a mailbox and talking to thin air.

"Hey...do you know how to fix a mailbox?" Henry asked nervously as a mail lady walked up to the pair and shoved a few letters in the box still swung over his shoulder. Right, now (y/n) understood why he'd been so snappy. She was quiet and reserved as the woman did her job but like all mail deliverers, she was curt and kinda rude.

"Yeah," she replied abruptly and gave them a tight, sour smile before stomping off to the next house on the next bill. Wow, talk about customer service. Henry looked at (y/n) questioningly and all the girl could do was shrug because now, they had more problems than they could handle. Ray was gonna be in a mood after being so rudely ignored. They had to somehow fix the mailbox with nothing. And worst of all, they'd have to go back inside the house at some point and face all the joys in there.

Jeff, Mitch, Mrs Bilsky and...fish lasagne. Not forgetting the whipped cream.

If (y/n) had to describe the evening in one word, it would be dreary. She'd never say it to Piper's face since it would squash the poor girl's heart like a grape but sweet cheese, this sucked.

Dinner had been served whilst they were duct-taping the mailbox back to the shattered, wooden stake, so by the time they made it back into the house, the whipped cream had lost some of its body and the fish was coming up to room temperature.

Billy and Piper sat at the kitchen island since they were the lovebirds in the house, so Mr Hart and the rest of the Bilskys were on the couch, swapping epic tales whilst (y/n) and Henry perched on the armchair next to the fire. It was a tight squeeze with the woman sitting on the arm and her plate of barely touched lasagne on her knee but Henry understood why she didn't want to rub elbows with Mitch and Jeff.

"And then, I finally got the drop on him. And that's when the detective said, you've outsmarted me, Jeff and that never happens," the criminal retold his story that the listening sidekicks were certain wasn't true as he switched from his usual moronic voice to a posh British one. Not once in his life had Jeff outsmarted anyone, so that was an immediate red flag and it only got worse as he carried on.

"And I was like, well, why not? And then, he was all like, because my name is Sherlock Holmes! Boom!" He exclaimed, sending Mitch, Mr Hart and his mom into rapturous laughter as everyone else frowned in confusion. Well, that was a load of crap if they'd ever heard it; Jeff might have thought he was brilliant but not even he could bring fictional characters to life and then outsmart them, his majesty didn't stretch that far, so (y/n) and Henry rolled their eyes as he soaked in the praise.

"Wow!" Just how gullible was Mr Hart?

"Jeff, that did not happen!" Billy argued. At least someone in that family had sense but as Piper and the sidekicks nodded to agree with him, Jeff got all defensive with Mitch as his backup.

"Prove it!" He snapped, not liking how he was being shown up by his little brother. He hated how smart and sensible Billy was but in his head, no one could prove that he had or hadn't spoken with this Holmes guy because no one else was around when it had supposedly gone down. It was foolproof or so he thought.

"Sherlock Holmes isn't real, dummy. He's a character from a load of books!" (y/n) remarked drying as she pushed some fish chunks around her plate before putting the tiniest crumb in her mouth so she didn't offend the chef. If all seven fishes had blended, it might have been nice but as Jeff frowned at her elementary deduction, she had to use all of her strength to not gag at the cat food-like taste.

"Then, how'd I put my butt on his pillow, pretty thing?" The moron retorted and she tiredly dropped her fork onto her plate in annoyance. It wasn't even a compliment at this point, not when she was drawn up to be nothing more than an object for them to ogle but as Henry gave her a sympathetic glance, the Bilsky boys were too busy being assholes.

"Bilskys!" "Bilskys!" They laughed and high-fived each other, thinking they were so smart with their dumb comebacks and even dumber attempts at wooing the hot lady. However, it was like all of (y/n)'s prayers had been answered as the door suddenly swung open with a handsome doofus to crash the party.

Everyone's mouths dropped as that kooky guy that (y/n) was marrying—Henry's weird boss—stepped into the room, totally uninvited and carrying a flowerpot. Ray was unashamed and unapologetic as he waltzed in and closed the door behind him, having bolted down the road the minute Henry hung up and never called him back.

Charlotte had reasoned that everything was probably fine but something in his tummy was just nagging at him that his darling future wife needed him as he needed her, so ignoring everyone's advice he'd found himself walking up the Harts' drive with no plans, no excuse, just a head full of bad ideas on how he was going to make Jeff and his scummy family regret the day they made goo-goo eyes at his fiancée—and the ham. He couldn't forget that, it made him seem less sad.

"Hey, what's up? I'm Henry's boss and (y/n)'s fiancé. I wasn't invited so I brought this potted plant," the man explained to the gobsmacked families, who stared at him for appearing so suddenly as he stuck the pot on the mantelpiece. The truth was that the plant had been the first thing he'd seen outside and he figured that Mr Hart was too dumb to notice that it had been sitting next to his front door for god knows how long.

Honestly, Ray was much more interested in winking at his baffled lover, who was both frozen and drooling at the sight of her hero storming into the house right when she needed him.

"Thank you. We actually have one just like it on our porch," Mr Hart noted, which was more than Ray ever thought he'd put together but he was so charming, the comment merely rolled off his back like water on a duck.

"Huh, weird! Hey, what's this handsome hunk of hog?" He ignored the man's confused intonation and instead immediately turned to the Venetian Ham that was sitting all pretty on the coffee table, waiting to be devoured. Like always, Ray wasn't subtle at all, he stared right at it and upon seeing how many eyebrows were raised, Henry swiftly stood up and yanked him back into the safety net that was (y/n)'s arms.

"Uh, hey! Little funny story about that, Jeff actually brought it, Jeff's a good guy—what are you doing here?!" Henry rambled with a breathy laugh coating his words as he and the heroine pushed him towards the kitchen, acting as though they were having nothing more than a friendly chat. In reality, they were slightly furious at his sudden appearance because they could handle this without ruining Piper's evening and even if they did want him to show up, a warning would've been nice.

"I'll tell you what I'm doing here! I'm doing my job—jobs! Making sure Jeff doesn't grab that stolen ham and run off to Mexico, shouting that my wife is the prettiest thing he's ever seen!" Ray snapped and picked up his girl's hand so he could hold it tightly and keep her close to him as he'd wanted to do the minute she stepped into the elevator.

Her cheeks were blisteringly hot from his words, which she noticed were getting more and more frequent now that they had a late-night conversation and agreed that their wedding would definitely be held in the spring, possibly next year. It was starting to take shape and he was getting excited as well as sweeter than ever, which led to his mind getting ahead of reality, which Henry picked up on.

"Doofus, that's what we're doing!" (y/n) scolded him and swatted his pec, which was supposed to be a light punishment for coming to save her like some damsel in distress when she could handle the Bilsky bros. But it didn't work all that well, in the end, not when in the second after she stood on her tiptoes to share a quick, reuniting kiss with him.

"Are you really doing your jobs?" Ray's eyes flickered from soft and adoring to hard and grumpy when the reunion passed and the argument resumed, plunging them into the fast words and mean looks again as he doubted whether they were trying to take down Jeff or not. To him, it looked like they were eating cat sick when he walked in, not apprehending a bad guy.

"Yeah!" Henry couldn't stress it enough but apparently, that wasn't good enough for the guy.

"That's what you're doing? 'Cause, it seems to me that you're getting a little too close with these Bilskys!" The hero snapped and pouted, earning himself some outraged and frankly hurt looks from his sidekicks. Did he think so lowly of them? Did he think that Henry enjoyed the prospect of his sister being Mrs Piper Bilsky? Did he think that (y/n) had been happy to sit all evening and bend Mitch's fingers in unnatural ways whenever he tried to put his hand on her knee? Did he think she'd not wanted to run home when Jeff asked her if she was doing anything Friday night?

"What are you talking about?!"

"I'll tell you what I'm talking about! You let one wear your clothes, your sister's over there feeding that one fish lasagne, your dad's over there rubbing elbows with the mom—" Ray pointed to the various Bilskys scattered across the room, paying extra special attention to how Mr Hart was comparing his elbow, or specifically the flap of skin covering his elbow, with Mrs Bilskys, both of them laughing about how silly "weenus" was to say. "See! And I bet that moron has been flirting with (y/n) all night!"

"Raymond, I have no idea what you're talking about. We have not been getting close to the Bilskys and I can assure you that every time Jeff tried it on with me, I told him to go screw himself because surprisingly enough, I missed you, damn it! God knows why when you behave like this," (y/n) hissed and pulled her hand free from his when she got the hint that he was insinuating something unbelievable.

"(y/n), baby, I missed you too but—" Ray deflated at her harsh tone and tried to reach out when she pulled away. He hadn't realised how cutting his tone was until his friend was glaring daggers at him and his sweet girl was flinching away from his touch but he couldn't help how he felt. Just the thought of Jeff annoying her all night and overstepping the line drove him insane, so he couldn't help but jump to conclusions, even if it wasn't any excuse to be so mean.

"There are no buts about it! And I swear to god, if you ruin this dinner, I'll be sleeping in the spare room—" the woman didn't want to hear it and felt like a mother telling off a child as he stood there and shuffled his feet. No doubt they'd fall back into each other's arms in the next five minutes and he'd beg for forgiveness whilst kissing it all better—the ultimate show for Jeff and Mitch to take note of but before she could complete her hollow threat, a rather more menacing one came from outside.

Everyone had heard the screech of tires but hadn't attached any importance. Oh, what a mistake.

"Attention! This is the Swellview Police!" A female officer announced through a megaphone, standing just outside the door and when the group finally noticed the red and blue flashing lights shining through the windows, it was like a chill came over the Bilskys. They dropped their plates with a clatter and stood up straight, terrified by that one word; Police. Now they were in for it, they didn't know why but they were. "We got your house surrounded!"

"You called the cops?!" "Ray, I can't believe you!" Henry and (y/n) turned to Ray with horrified expressions, jumping to the conclusion that he'd called for backup thinking that he'd walk in and catch Jeff in the act. And after they'd said not to get involved too, the shame of it...but for once, Ray was completely innocent.

"No! Sweet girl, you gotta believe me!" The man pleaded with her and to Henry's surprise when he reached for her hand, (y/n) allowed it because...she did believe him. He wouldn't beg like that without a good reason and there weren't any lies in those crystal blue eyes of his, he had to be telling the truth. She was his life, he couldn't deceive her like that.

"You called the cops?!" "No!" And it seemed that Mrs Bilsky, Mitch and Jeff thought the same of Billy, who like Ray, protested his innocence most strongly. However, they didn't believe him as readily.

"Also, we hit your mailbox with one of our police cars," the officer added at the end of her statement but by the tone of her voice, it was obvious that they didn't care. The Swellview Police never did and their budget was better spent on doughnuts and coffee in their opinion than paying for damaged property, much to the annoyance of Henry.

"Ohhh, man, we just fixed that!" "Sorry!" Was all she offered him for ruining all of his hard work. It had taken him and (y/n) a good fifteen minutes to hold the fiddly post in place and tape it together, and it was only a balancing act even then. But they had bigger problems to worry about.

Looks like it wasn't Ray who was set to ruin the night. The Bilskys had kinda done that for themselves.

Ten minutes later and nothing had changed. Well, not really.

The police were still lurking outside but the problem was that it was so damn dark that no one could pinpoint where the officers were precisely. So it was a guessing game for the criminal family inside, who'd taken up arms in the form of steel tongs and other kitchen items so they could pinch their way out if need be.

Everyone assumed that they were the ones they were after because it wasn't like the Harts had anything to hide, except maybe a few tidbits in books and dolls, so at one point, someone, namely Ray, hinted that they should be thrown out to save everyone else from prosecution. He was quickly turned down, though, on the count that if one Bilsky went down then the cops would probably take everyone else on a charge of association, so now everyone was trapped.

The waiting game really wasn't fun.

"Piper, I don't know if we're going to have enough fish lasagne for the police, can you make more?" Mr Hart asked his daughter as he paced back and forth, stressing unnecessarily. Piper had been sitting with Billy on the couch, comforting him since he was tearing up over the idea that his family's reputation had ruined the night. But Jake couldn't see that, he couldn't see much, not when the worry of a police squadron on his doorstep was clouding his judgement.

"Yeah, it'll take five minutes," the girl replied and briskly stood up as she figured that she could go whip up some more food and be back at Billy's side in no time. After all, she had some leftover pizza, there was still a whole can of whipped cream and she could swear that there was a dusty tin of old tuna in the cupboard.

"I thought you could all day," Billy noted with a confused frown on his face because he'd been under the impression that his girlfriend had been slaving over a hot stove for this dinner, not whacking something together in under five minutes. He still had a lot to learn about girls.

"I know... You're sweet." "Y'see, Billy, when girls say they do something all day, they mean that regardless of how long it took, you should appreciate it as it did. Five minutes, a whole day, it's the same for us!" (y/n) called across to the cute tweens, peeling herself away from Ray's chest for just a moment so she could give the boy his first lesson on girl psychology.

As Piper had been comforting her boyfriend, her friend's fiancé had been pawing for his lover's attention like a lost puppy, sticking close to her side but doing nothing except holding her hand and tucking her hair behind her ear whenever it fell into her eyes.

He kissed her once, in a way, and that was only when he raised her knuckles to his lips and let his gaze flicker to hers first—asking for permission in his own special, doofy way. After that, (y/n) had just crumbled and the moment her skin met his kiss, she brought him in for a real one, ending the tension there and then, which was gross for Henry to witness but also one less problem for him to worry about.

"Hey! I don't think that the cops are here for the dinner party!" He chastised her dad and sister, thinking that they weren't looking at the bigger picture here. His snappy tone made the lovey-dovey couple next to him separate just a tad because shit was hitting the fan and Ray was suddenly reminded that he still had some necks to wring out...when (y/n) wasn't watching.

"Well, why are they here?!" "We're here 'cause we know there's stolen goods inside!" The policewoman responded after Mrs Bilsky's loud question. That woman seriously needed to learn about volume control because her voice carried through the brick walls and the door to the police outside, which wasn't doing them any favours when they needed to strategise.

"You steal something, Mitchy?" She asked, turning to her middle son, who was known to have sticky fingers.

"No! I haven't stolen anything in days!" The man-child replied, thinking that the statement made him morally squeaky clean, although Henry begged to differ.

"You stole my clothes," he pointed out, which honestly was a mistake. He should've known after so many years of being pushed around by Mitch that he didn't like it when the weenies spoke back.

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna keep 'em!... Well, except maybe the underwear." "You're wearing my underwear?!" Henry asked in disgust, his face like a picture as Mitch smirked at him.

Yeah! But I left a pair of mine for you, so that's really just a spicy trade," the delinquent grinned, again not seeing how weird he was as his momma nodded proudly in the background. She sure thought she raised her kids right, but Ray wasn't concerned with playing happy families. He just wanted to say what everyone else was thinking.

"Look, we all know they're here because Jeff stole that expensive ham," he said to the room, pointing at the moron, who looked at the bigger, musclier man with offence written across from being branded a thief. His brother had been right, the hot lady's "boyfriend or whatever" was big and tough, bigger and tougher than he'd been expecting but who did he think he was throwing those kinds of accusations around?

"I didn't steal anything!" "Jeff, you say that every time you steal something!" Billy argued with his older brother. He knew his tricks, it had been the same old story for as long as he could remember and Jeff never changed his ways, so he didn't see why this time was any different. He could protest his innocence all he wanted.

"I know, but this time, I'm telling the truth!" the criminal said, his tone turning soft like that would make them fall for his lies. Even (y/n) couldn't help but scoff because as someone who'd secretly known Jeff and dealt with him for many years, she trusted him as far as she could throw him.

"You got five minutes to come out with the stolen goods or we're coming in!" The police weren't gonna wait for much longer, they had places to be, doughnuts to eat, criminals and crimes to ignore and leave for Captain Man to deal with. Someone would have to confess soon.

"Look, I'm not gonna stand here and be arrested over a damn ham!" (y/n) growled and put her hands on her hips, recalling the last time she'd been thrown in the slammer, those few years ago. To be fair, that evening had ended fairly well, all things considered, given how it had been her first glimpse of how wonderful her doofus was but that was different. This was Jeff.

"All right, come on, that's it, Jeff. Let's go!" Ray agreed with his sweet girl and picked up the Venetian Ham box from the table so he could shove it and its thief onto the porch for the cops to deal with. It was much easier than explaining himself to the judge when he was supposed to be one of the good guys.

"No, I didn't steal the ham! I swear, look, look, look!" However, the criminal pulled against his grip on his scruffy jacket and instead, pulled a small slip of crumpled paper from his pocket.

"What's that? A receipt for the ham?" Henry asked, thinking for a moment that Jeff had used one of his last brain cells to get proof of purchase for something so he could show that he'd been honest on a rare occurrence. But no. He was dumb for even thinking that, let alone assuming it.

"No, it's a speech I wrote, 'cause I knew you'd all accuse me of stealing the ham!"

"I didn't even think that you could write...or read but...that's strangely poignant..." (y/n) muttered, not believing her ears. Oh, yes, Jeff the wordsmith, the modern Shakespeare, easily confused with Jeff the professor or Jeff the Olympic athlete.

"Look, if you have a receipt, you can just show it to the—" Ray tried to tell him that proof of purchase would be enough to prove him innocent but apparently, Jeff was eager to be heard so he just let him get on with it. He didn't care if he went to jail again, it'd give him a few weeks of peace.

"Ahem!" Jeff cleared his throat and weirdly took a pair of smart glasses from his pocket that genuinely made him look quite intellectual, except for the still attached security tag that spoke volumes, "A single drop of water over time can cut through a boulder..."

"Oh my god..." "Sweet cheese..." Ray muttered into his girl's hair as she pressed her face into his chest with a long sigh. It was gonna be one those speeches, one full of flowery words and soft intonation that could inspire a nation...or look could as an inspirational quote found through a search engine.

"Uh, where are you going with this one, bro?" Even Mitch wasn't on the same page, which said something. He normally backed up his bro with everything.

"I'll skip ahead," the man conceded and scanned his eyes down the scrap of paper until he was at another part of his "speech", "And—and, uh, that's when I realised that the greatest Nacho Ball of all was the one inside me because I just ate it. And so—"

"Oh, this is utter BS and you know it. Gimme that!" (y/n) snapped and snatched the paper from Jeff's hand the moment he started using that irritating voice that a lot of those teenage online influencers used on SplashFace last time she looked.

"This is not a speech! It's just a drawing of a sun with sunglasses on saying, stay cool!" Ray exclaimed as his fiancée turned the paper around so everyone could see the childish scribble that replaced the nonexistent speech.

"Fine, ya got me. Okay, I was making it up," he admitted as his family, except for Billy, chuckled at his antics, "what are you? My arch-rival, Sherlock Holmes?" That got him the speech thrown in his face. No one sneered at (y/n)'s doofus like that and got away with it.

"Dude, if you bought the ham, where's the receipt?" Henry asked, trying to spell out his original point again. A receipt would have a date, barcode and number for the cops to check and prove or disprove his innocence, the kid didn't understand why he wouldn't just face them like a man if he hadn't done anything wrong. But for Jeff—all the Bilskys really—it wasn't that simple.

"I don't have it but even if I did, it wouldn't matter. No one ever believes us Bilskys. They think were just a bunch of liars and thieves and bullies and criminals—" "Yeah, well..." (y/n) wasn't buying his fishing for sympathy trick and Ray's beefy arm was much more enthralling for her fingers to prod and squeeze than listen to Jeff's pathetic life story. Could they blame people for thinking that? Not really. Even they knew that they were low-down, good-for-nothings.

"And we are...except for you, Billy. You're the best Bilsky ever, Billy Bilsky." In a surprisingly touching turn, the oldest Bilsky brother looked over at his youngest sibling and showed genuine remorse on his face, almost as if he was sorry that the boy had to be tied to their family with their kooky mom, dead-beat dad, himself, Bysh and Mitch.

And that's when Ray's arm stopped being so interesting, except for hugging to hold the tears, as Jeff placed his hand on the kid's shoulder and acknowledged what the world felt for his brother. Massive amounts of sympathy for the odd-one-out child who through no fault of his own would have to carry the baggage that came with the name Bilsky for the rest of his life.

"And you got this great girlfriend with this great family...and her really hot lady friend," well, it was almost perfect, A for effort, even if Ray was about to drop the ham and replace it with his boiled head for that one comment. "I just wanted to do something nice for my younger brother 'cause I think you're great, Billy. So, I bought you expensive ham."

"Wow, man, that was—I—" Billy didn't know what to say as his glassy eyes met Jeff's. No one in his family had ever been so sappy and it was so nice to hear, not just for him but for everyone. There was one slight issue, however. Ray Manchester was a big guy; tough, rugged, hardened from years of fighting crime and going it alone but underneath that hard exterior, there laid a very squishy, touchy man who wasn't void of emotion in the slightest.

Henry had seen him cry on a few occasions, most of them including (y/n), so he just assumed that she was his only weak point but little did he know—little did (y/n) know until she sat down to watch A Man and His Dog with Ray one evening, and it was that film that solidified them as best friends—that he had one more weakness.

And that was heartfelt speeches, not ones written on shitty pieces of paper but ones that came from deep inside, from the bottom of someone's guts. They got to him and when he started roaring, he could not stop. At all. And it was very ugly.

"Uraghhhhh!" A deep noise came from his throat, that kinda sounded like a cross between a Wookie and a blue whale, deep and resonating as tears pooled on his water line. (y/n) was straight in there as his eyes screwed shut and she ignored the weirded-out expressions of everyone else because when her doofus got like this, no one else mattered. Not even Henry.

"Oh, baby, shush. It's not that bad...oh, my love, hush now."

"Is that—are you—is he crying?" the boy asked the woman as she soothed her lover and brought his face into her neck, where she didn't mind if he soaked her skin. It was genuinely heartbreaking for her to hear him like that because he was so upset and no one ever seemed to realise that since they never got past the weird sounds he made. Honestly, she was prepared to fight the first person who came for him because the only time he sobbed like this was when they were alone.

"Ew! Does it always sound like that? I mean, he cried when you went missing for twelve hours last month and it didn't sound like this," Henry choked back a laugh as he couldn't believe that the great Captain Man sounded like a diseased elephant when he cried.

He could swear that he'd never done that before and he'd been there when Ray had proposed and everything. All those nights when he cried like a baby because "(y/n) will never love me but I love her so much and it hurts so much, kid. Just take away the pain because if I can't have her, then what is the point?!" He regretted letting him drink so many alcopops. But even then, he'd never made noises like he was burping in reverse.

"Only when it gets really bad! Like, you should've seen him three hours after he proposed when you went to get snacks. He—well, we both were a mess." (y/n) replied, stroking Ray's head gently as she ignored the way the ham box dug into her belly. His breathing was starting to slow but without a lot of blankets, ice cream and a safe, comfortable location for her to cuddle him through it, things weren't gonna get better without drastic action.

"When's it gonna stop?"

"That is the million dollar question," she told him with a slight shrug and a face that told him that she didn't care. Screw him, screw his family, screw the Bilskys, screw the police outside, screw everything and everyone that wasn't her doofus. Nothing else mattered, not to her and she was gonna put him above everything just like he'd do for her.

"Ah, jeez—All right, you know what? We gotta go—"

"Now, wait just a minute, Hart!"

"We gotta go! Come on, let's go, I know you'll punch me if I hurt him, but come on!" Henry, though, didn't have all night to stand around and wait for his boss to stop crying. He suspected that he was prolonging those crocodile tears as they meant that his sweet girl was lavishing her attention on him and he could nuzzle into the spot where she dabbed on her perfume without anyone saying anything.

Well, this was him saying something and giving no fucks, he put an arm around him and an arm around her, and marched them to the kitchen for a little bit of privacy.

As the Bilskys huddled around for a group hug in the lounge, Henry got Ray to drop the ham on the counter and used every muscle in his body to wedge himself between the happy couple. It was no mean feat; Ray had practically glued himself to (y/n)'s hip and roared even louder when the soft, sweet-smelling scent of her shampoo left his nose, which in turn meant that she was desperate to pull him back to save those sounds from breaking her heart.

"Okay, hey, look at me! Look at me, you can go back to (y/n) in a minute, just—how are we supposed to calm him down?!" The kid turned to the woman, who was looking at him with a smug pout. She was upset that she couldn't comfort her fiancé but she was also kinda loving how the kid thought separating them would make things better. Henry wasn't impressed as she folded her arms and rested her hip against the island, but he had to ask.

"Well, I'm glad you asked...amateur. Now, step aside and let the expert work her magic," she said smugly, which was devious but true. There was no point sending in a cat-sitter to tame a lion, they'd just be too soft and end up getting their heads bitten off. No, she'd learnt to be brutal, swift, no tender touches when it came to the pinch, he needed a fast, unexpected shock. So, fast, unexpected shock coming up.

Seizing his face with both hands, (y/n) yanked Ray down to her level and crashed her lips into his, swallowing his last sob. It wasn't how she normally approached a situation like this but there was one varying factor in the kiss that ought to snap him out of it, save for how disgustingly passionate she made it with the all tongue and teeth mix.

Amongst the honey, there was the faintest hint of tuna—a remnant from the fish lasagne that hadn't been nullified by the whipped cream—and the bizarre combination was enough for Ray's brain to short circuit and reset. Honey and fish? That wasn't how his sweet girl normally tasted, what trickery was this?

Pulling back, his eyes were wide but alert and they scanned her face in alarm, thinking that he'd kissed the wrong woman or something horrific like that. But, it was just his (y/n), like always, smiling up at him with Henry looking slightly green in the background and he was back in the land of the living.

"Ah...thanks, precious girl. How long was I crying?" Ray asked with a slight sniff and a grimace. That lasagne truly was revolting and he lamented how it spoiled what otherwise should've been a downright sinful kiss.

"Like twenty seconds. Wasn't as bad as you usually get."

"Eh, okay..." he could live with that. Sure, he'd cried in front of strangers but hell, he'd do it again if that was the outcome.

"Uh—lovebirds? New plan, all right?" Henry snapped his fingers in their faces to break whatever giggly trance they were in. He knew those trances, he knew that they often resulted in them making out like teenagers for god knows how long and they didn't have time for that. "You go upstairs, you pop a gumball, transform, you sneak outside, you tell everyone that Jeff is innocent."

"Got it," Ray nodded and (y/n) took a step away from her lover now that she knew he was all right. Serious time now, and the hero was prepared to slope off and leave them to give his excuses so that good, old Captain Man could tell the po-po to pack up and go home. He fished for his gum tube that had been safely hidden deep in his pocket and sneakily flicked the cap open, hoping to swallow a ball and get out before anyone noticed.

However, it was foolish to think like that. Ever the bully, Mitch wasn't about to let the big guy who cried like a girl get away without getting in at least one clever comment before he did, so he sauntered over to make fun, which was fine, sort of. Ray was a big boy and (y/n) wasn't kidding when she warned him that he didn't suffer fools lightly, but when Mitch got a glimpse of the glowing tube, they had a problem.

"What you got there, Cryin' Gosling?" He asked scornfully and Henry felt his blood run cold as (y/n), who had been perfectly happy walking away with him and leaving her doofus alone, froze on her spot with a fallen face. She turned around so slowly that she'd give creeps in horror movies a run for their money and as Ray glared at Mitch, the boy felt sorry for the guy. He could mock the man but he had to endure the woman's fury.

"That's not my name..."

"The fuck did you just call him, dumpling?" (y/n) spat and was back at Ray's side, pushing herself between him and Mitch within the blink of an eye. Her face was murderous as the bully looked down at the woman and laughed slightly, thinking even lesser of her "boyfriend or whatever" now that he was allowing her to fight his battles. She was cute, looking all feisty and pointing out how his pale chubbiness was highlighted by Henry's small clothing but there was no way she was gonna scare him.

After all, girls can't fight, especially not ones like her.

"Look, man, call off your attack dog. Is that gum?"

"No...don't call her that," Ray replied quickly, although not as harshly as he wanted to. God, had the Mitch kid always been so tall? He knew that on the few occasions they'd crossed paths he'd been infuriated and running on adrenaline but dear god, he felt so...puny and vulnerable.

"Yes, it is. I have fish breath now, I want some, gimme some...or are you scared? Gonna get your attack dog to speak for you? Oh, I said it again, what are you gonna do about it? Huh? Nothing? What kind of man wants to stand and watch a smokin' hot girl like her take the beating?" Mitch laughed and Ray tightened his grip around the tube.

He wanted to shout and punch and pummel the little shit for speaking to him like that but he said nothing, causing him to look down in shame. He said nothing. What kind of man was he?

"What kind of man wants to score cheap points by bullying someone?" He was a doofus, (y/n)'s doofus specifically and if he couldn't talk then she'd do it for him because no one was in his corner more than she was, ready to pull on the gloves and fight for him if she needed to. "You better watch that mouth of yours, Bilsky, or this attack dog will make sure you'll be enjoying your next piece of gum through a straw!"

"Pshhh, no way, sweet stuff! Gimme that gum—it'll make my breath so much better for when we kiss!" Mitch cackled and ruffled her hair for a split second before diving for Ray's hand. Oh, it was adorable how she spat her little threats and he figured that maybe once he'd swotted this big lump into submission and he got his hands on some gum to make his mouth minty-fresh, she reward him, the victor, with a smooch. Yeah, right.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Henry gasped as his boss looked at Mitch like he was gonna rip his head off. The man saw red the moment that miscreant thought it was acceptable to speak about his sweet girl in that way and as Mitch tried to tug the gum in his hand, the hero rediscovered his strength and started a tug of war. It was only when Ray raised a fist that Henry and (y/n) intervened, getting between the two because no matter how much he deserved it, they couldn't let him get hit. He'd snap like a twig.

"God, I hate Bilskys..." "Hahahaha!" (y/n) muttered as Mitch wrenched the gum from Ray's hand and chuckled in victory as he ran away with his prize. It wasn't for long, though, he didn't even make it past the couch by the time Ray reacted and went after him, the hero taking drastic measures to get his special gum back that would reveal a secret so deep that it would have irreversible consequences.

So, he did what any desperate and enraged man would do; he leapt on the couch and used to push off and into the air so he could take down Mitch in a flying tackle, leaving them to brawl on the floor, much to the smiles of the Bilskys, minus Billy, and the horror of the Harts and (y/n).

And of course, like any good "attack dog", she wasn't going to sit and play nice, she was gonna get in on the action and bite the bastard's leg off—figuratively speaking. With a sigh and a small run-up, she dove onto the wrestling pile and was practically straddling Ray's back by the time Henry decided that it was his duty to get the gum back too.

So, the kid leapt on Mitch and tried to hold him back as (y/n) thumped him with her fists so Ray could claw for the tube, which wasn't easy given how his sweet girl's position, rocking on top of him, made his hands so clammy. They tugged back and forth, rolling around the carpet and hissing at Mitch to give it up and find his own gum but he wouldn't give up, not against the pretty thing's weenie-peenie "boyfriend or whatever".

"All right, yous people got sixty seconds to come out or we're comin' in! This is still the Swellview Police, by the way! In case you forgot... " The trio could barely hear the policewoman's megaphone what with the blood rushing in their ears and Mitch's growls every five seconds but everyone else heard it loud and clear and it sent a chill of worry through some people who had form.

"Great! I'm going to jail! Again!" Jeff exclaimed as he, his mom, Mr Hart, Piper and Billy got especially antsy. So antsy that they were completely ignoring how Mitch was fighting a losing battle with the scrawny kid, his boss and the hot lady. And for once, they all thought about how unfair that was; Jeff had them convinced that he didn't deserve to be punished this time because he was innocent, but as he said, who would believe that?

"No, you're not!" Billy suddenly said, having taken a second to come to a surprising, stupid, reckless, totally crazy conclusion. He didn't like his family, he didn't like his brothers particularly and he sure as hell wasn't proud to be who he was but after that speech Jeff had made, he could push all of that aside and do something insane. Because who can annoy you better than your brother? They always have your back at the end of the day, no matter how irritating they are.

"I mean...maybe someday, like next week or something. But not today!"

"What are you saying?" Piper asked, thinking her boyfriend was talking crazy. Almost as crazy as (y/n) was for loving that lug of hers...nah, no one could be that crazy. Or that meant to be together.

"We're gonna eat the evidence!" Billy declared, looking at everyone with a determined, steely gaze. It was genius, stupid, near impossible but genius. The police couldn't arrest someone for something that was being digested, could they? Out of sight, out of mind—or rather, out of court, that is. And sure, it would be a task but when it comes to family, was an upset stomach and acid reflux that much to ask?

"You're right!" Henry called raggedly as he poked his head from the fight. He had to get out of there, too many times he'd come close to Ray and (y/n) and whatever was happening between their bodies. No more. And he understood what Billy was saying. "They can't arrest your brother if there's no evidence."

"But that's ten pounds of cured ham!"

"We can't eat all of that!" Mr Hart and Mrs Bilsky argued, thinking about how six people plus one massive piece of meat just didn't add up. Ray, (y/n) and Mitch weren't gonna be much help, they were too preoccupied, so it was just them versus the Venetian Ham and they swore that they weren't gonna win. It was meant to be enjoyed over several days, weeks or even months, surely, they'd be sick from the salt...or maybe they'd explode and a man would have to come in to hose the ham and human off the walls.

"We've got to try!" Billy told them, understanding their worries but they had no choice. The police would find it somehow if they hid it or threw it away, so this was the only choice—the only hope of sparing Jeff an early visit to the jailhouse. They could do it, even without the extra mouths, after all, it seemed like a bad idea to get in between a man as he bit another man's wrist whilst his future wife bent the other man's leg backwards.

"Billy's right! Everyone start stuffing ham in your mouth!" Piper exclaimed and it was a mad dash to the kitchen as the police clock ticked by. They raced to the table, where the ham box lay open with the meat looking ready for a fine banquet. But this wasn't going to be sophisticated, not in the least. They crowded around like a pack of savage animals and when Henry ripped the first slice off and shoved it in his mouth, it became a free-for-all, akin to feeding time at the zoo in the lion's den.

Hands tore at the flesh like a scene from a horror film as Ray and (y/n) punched and pounded Mitch like their lives depended on it, ignorant to the savagery occurring in the kitchen. Piper and Billy even fed each other in a sappy, cutesy way that mimicked how (y/n) did with Ray but they often did it with French fries or grapes, not hunks of ham. And it got even weirder when Henry did it with his dad. Who was gross now?

As Mitch tried to throw back a gumball, (y/n) wrapped her arm around his throat and pulled it tight, choking him long enough for Ray to tackle him again. In the kitchen, the meat eaters were getting very, very full and were certain they were gonna be sick as the meat became less delicious and more sickly from all the salt but as the battle of the man and ham went on, no one gave up.

"Give me the gum and I'll show you how a real man treats a lady!" Mitch groaned as he stretched his hand away from Ray but refrained from holding (y/n) back from his body. He rather enjoyed how she strained and pressed against him in her attempt to grab the tube as he kicked at the idiot she was engaged to but she didn't share the sentiment. His eyes flickered to her engagement ring and the mocking smirk that spread on his face was the final straw that arose a dragon in her belly and forced a growl from her throat.

"Keep dreaming, loser, and I'll stick with the real man!" She snapped and brought her elbow down into his ribs harshly. The air was punched from Mitch's lungs with that one blow and as a winded groan left his mouth, Ray took the opportunity to slide forward, wrap an arm around his girl to steady himself, and knock the gum tube away with the back of his hand. To hell if some of the balls flew everywhere, he was the champion and victory had never been so sweet, given what he had achieved and retained.

And that was the end of that.

"Time's up! We're coming in!" The officer outside announced and on her word, the battering ram was prepared to knock down the door. However, everyone inside was now ready to face the music and despite cutting it fine and his full stomach, Mr Hart speedily walked across the room and opened the door for the police to come in. At exactly the wrong time.

"Hello, officer—" he greeted them politely but his timing was tragically off by a few seconds, meaning when the battering ram was swung, it didn't hit the door...it hit him. The swinging policeman and he took a tumble after he took the blow to the gut, which wasn't fortunate after such a heavy, rapid snack fest but it cleared the way for his colleagues to come in and search the premises.

They were met with a sight of carnage. After eating three times what their stomachs could handle, Piper, Billy, Mrs Bilsky, Jeff and Henry had collapsed onto the couch or near enough to it and all they could give in response to the intrusion was several pained groans. And then, there was Ray, (y/n) and Mitch. The bully was still on the floor and the hero was standing over him with a menacing, snarling face as his fiancée stood innocently by and held the recovered gum tube. That would teach him to not go near her again.

"Hey, officers..." Henry smiled coyly at the cop with the megaphone as best he could while she stepped into the living room and walked over to his armchair. God, it hurt to talk but they had to maintain appearances until they'd gone, after which, they'd be free to puke until next Saturday. "...No stolen ham here."

"We don't care nothin' 'bout that."

"You don't?!" Jeff asked outraged as the woman looked at Henry with a confused face. She looked so lost as to why they'd even mention that when they were here on a completely different job and to the exasperated families who'd just eaten their weight in ham or the couple who'd just wrestled a huge man-child for some gum, it was a real kick in the teeth.

"We wouldn't waste our precious time looking for stolen ham!" The officer said in her New York drawl, which resulted in a series of groans from around the room. Doing actual police work be madness and all of that drivel could be left for Captain Man and his sidekicks to clean up. No, they were here for something much more serious.

"We're looking for illegal dolls," she went on and oddly, it was a Bilsky who stiffened. It was Piper.

"Ah, jeez...," she sighed and everyone looked at her, walleyed that sweet, innocent Piper Hart could be wrapped up in a police matter. What had she been doing? Mr Hart, her brother and (y/n) all wanted to know but when she met their eyes, she just looked sheepish and guilty, like she was ready to take the wrap because the writing was on the wall.

"Follow me!" A policeman told his partners after sniffing the air and that's when the tween knew that the game was up. Juvie here she came.

"What is going on?" Jake demanded to know and ignoring his cripplingly painful stomach, he slowly push off his knee and got to his feet because goddammit, the police were now searching his house. Piper wasn't saying anything but he wanted an explanation because although he wasn't the most commanding and authoritative of souls, it was still his house and he was sorely confused.

"We got a tip that someone's been selling stolen Fresno Girl dolls on the internet. See, that legal..."

"Oh, Piper, what have you done?"

"Listen, Billy... I might be going away for a little while," Piper admitted to her lovable boyfriend as the officer stared straight at her and the mention of Fresno girl, everything made sense for those who knew her best. (y/n) wasn't mad, just disappointed because internet scams were such a dumb thing to get arrested over and she thought Piper knew better than that. And poor Billy, he looked so heartbroken.

"Seriously?!"

"Well, I don't want to say anything without a lawyer present but..." she shrugged nervously. She'd been in this situation a few times and knew that a slip of the tongue could cost her dearly, no matter how much she liked him.

"Oh, I got a good lawyer. He also works down at the Nacho Ball..." Jeff mentioned and vaguely threw his hand in the direction of the fast food restaurant. Oh, yeah, he must've been a great defence, that's why he was in jail all of the time and it was that conclusion that made everyone ignore his statement...or maybe it was the angry cops marching down the stairs with armfuls of evidence. They couldn't eat that.

"We got 'em! They were in the girl's room and get this! Some of the heads were filled with bread!" The policeman held the dolls up for everyone to see as he and another cop came trotting down and Piper bit her lip—busted.

"What?!" But what didn't make sense to her was the bread thing because that was just weird, and then it was her dad's turn to be the guilty one as he shared a sheepish look with his son and then averted his gaze. He didn't want to get in trouble too, not when he had to think about bailing Piper out for the umpteenth time.

"You sick freak! Let's go!" The woman hissed at Piper and (y/n) shared a horrified, heartbroken look with Ray as her friend was seized and dragged towards the door and the squad car that was waiting outside. All he could do was bring her into a comforting hug as Piper scrambled for help that wouldn't come and he had the sense to cover her ears as she screamed for mercy. His poor girl's heart couldn't take it.

"Wait for me, Billy! Wait for me on the other side!—" and that was the last they saw of Piper. Well, her dad would no doubt phone her mother and then, they'd go down and grovel for her release but in terms of the dinner party, everything was over when Ray shut the door to try and spare (y/n)'s contrite heart. What an utter disaster.

"Hey, I'm sorry they arrested your girlfriend, Billy..." Jeff was the first to speak as his mother comforted his brother, who was understandably solemn and down in the dumps. Ray shared a shrug with Henry as he returned to his lover's side to wrap his arms around her and he was surprised at how well the kid was taking it. Well, Henry knew that Piper could take care of herself and after the third time she got arrested, he sort of stopped getting worried.

"Whatever..."

"She's got potential!" Mrs Bilsky's attempt to comfort him wasn't great but Billy appreciated it. He'd appreciated his family a lot that night and even though it had ended so poorly, he was glad it had happened because it had taught him a thing or two.

"I'm sorry I doubted you. You know, I never should have accused you of stealing that ham," the boy told Jeff and gave him a soft, apologetic smile. It turned out that his brother was innocent and in his prejudice, he'd wrongly judged him before he'd known the facts, which he knew was wrong and only played into the Bilskys' reputation that they didn't do nice things, they all pillaged, plundered and thought about themselves.

How wrong he was to think like that about his own brother.

"It's all good, bro," Jeff shrugged, accepting his apology with an even softer smile and an understanding heart. It wasn't all doom and gloom, and even he with his thick skull could find an upside in their situation.

"I even got one bite of ham left! Stuck it in my pants when the cops showed up. Who wants some pants ham?" He offered and held one a rag of dry, soft, squishy ham that was covered in a fuzzy layer of lint from his pocket. It was a nice gesture but a gross one and no one could refuse quick enough.

"Fine, suit yourself!" He rolled his eyes at their cowardice and the way they each shook their heads profusely. Well, more for him and as they stood there in a nice little line, Henry, his dad, Billy and (y/n) tucked into Ray's side with a slightly cheerier expression on her face, the criminal bit into his morsel, much to their disgust. Oh, if only that was the worst part.

As Jeff got his teeth into the meat, he felt something fizz and pop in his mouth like an explosion that his lips couldn't contain and without any notice, a fountain of damn blue dye erupted from his mouth. The spray hit the guys and (y/n) like a pressure washer, coating them from their faces, right down to their navels in a fine mist that would take a good few showers to come off. Well, well, well, someone had been telling porkies and it wasn't the damn ham.

"...Doofus?"

"Yeah, sweet girl?" Ray replied to (y/n) in a sugary sweet yet restrained and tight voice as they wiped the dye from their eyes. It was so obvious what had happened and after all that he had said, after the connection that had been created, after the tears he'd cried, they didn't know how Jeff had the gall to still be standing in front of them.

"Is it my imagination or did we just get hit in the face by a load of blue dye that exploded from Jeff's mouth when he ate the last piece of Venetian Ham?"

"Oh, yeah..." the hero growled and turned to face her with a hard stare. In any other situation, the Smurf-like look would've been hilarious and the concept of the excuse of many showers together would've been so tempting, but the deceit just made it annoying, infuriating, and inexcusable. And Mitch could wipe that smirk off his face!

"...Okay, I stole it," Jeff confessed shyly with a nervous smile that was soon joined by his mother and Mitch's laughter. There was no use denying it when the evidence had hit them in the face but his honesty came too late and for Billy, who thought he could he could trust his family for once in his life, it was downright shameful carry-on.

"I KNEW IT!"

"That's my boy!" Mrs Bilsky disregarded her son's accusing tone and instead found the situation to be one big joke. It was that attitude that made him like that in the first place, so Jeff didn't feel much remorse, if any, not even when his kid brother sniffed slightly from how his dinner party had ended as a complete disaster after all.

"But you gave us that speech!"

"I cried!"

"Do you not feel any shame?" The heroic trio stared at them, appalled at how they were still laughing like a pack of hyenas. It just showed how well Jeff had fooled everyone because even Captain Man and his sidekicks had thought there had been a flicker of change in him. So much that the immovable, unflappable stone that was Ray had shed a tear with other people around, Henry had helped a Bilsky and (y/n) had held herself back when fighting with the middle brother to not offend them after such a pleasant evening.

"I'm a Bilsky, we lie! Ain't no shame in that, pretty thang!" Jeff laughed and jeered at their expressions, thrilled at how he'd managed to trick them all so well. Maybe he'd add acting to his resume, well, his imaginary resume, as if he'd ever get a job. He loved being an idiot, he loved being annoying and he loved being on the wrong side of the law as all of his family did. Except for his weenie of a younger brother, that is.

"Up top, bro! Bilskys!"

"Bilskys!" He and Mitch shared a high-five and did that stupid chant yet again, which proved to be too much for Ray. His face was sticky and blue and he'd heard one too many flirtatious names for the woman who was his wife...almost, so he was at the end of his rope and blameless in his next actions. Normally, (y/n) would hold him back but after the evening she'd had, one where she could've stayed at home, she just didn't care anymore.

"I'll take his legs, you pin his arms..." she hissed to her doofus, who was already way ahead of her as he stormed after Jeff, who wasn't much a runner and grabbed him by the very scruffy scruff of his jacket. Well, that was easy; the couple shared a smirk as they each took an arm and hauled the criminal towards the door, uncaring for Mrs Bilsky's shouts to her son or how odd it looked for them to be dealing with Jeff.

One more smart comment and she'd be having words because Miss Danger had pristine patience...but she also had a limit.

~The Man Cave~

"Uh, I'm never eating ham again," Henry grumbled as the elevator door slid open. The chaotic trip down had made his intestines feel woozy, even woozier than they had been when Jeff try to make a run for it down his street and they had to run and tackle him. All he could taste was ham, he was sure he was sweating the stuff, perhaps even to the point where he was seriously thinking about becoming vegetarian.

"Me neither, man," Ray agreed. He hadn't even eaten any of the meat but he had caught a few glimpses of the utter piggery that had taken place whilst he and his sweet girl were brawling with Mitch, and the way that ham was ripped apart was enough to turn his stomach funny too. That image would forever live in his mind, but that didn't mean he wasn't hungry.

"I don't know, doofus. I could eat some ham right now," (y/n) smiled at him tiredly, ready to sit down and not do anything else for the rest of the night. She knew that as a superheroine, that was probably asking too much but sitting down sounded so nice.

The tiredness was real. So real that as they stepped out of the elevator, the fact that the lights weren't on didn't register and the trio kept walking as if they could see

"I'm glad you said that, darlin—-ah!" Ray turned to grin at her, which was a mistake since he needed what little sight he could manage to stay on the floor. With his eyes on his sweet girl, he didn't see the carelessly left bucket on the floor until it was too late and he stuck his foot in it, literally. The man's foot slipped and he went flying, comically falling flat on his face, much to the confusion and amusement of Henry, and the horror and worry of (y/n).

"What the—why are the lights off?" The woman asked snappily, feeling confused as to why it looked like everyone had gone to bed. It was too early for Jasper and Charlotte to knock off and Schwoz had always been a late-night tinker, so the eeriness put her on high alert. This was her home and try as she might to not get irate, it had been a very long night. She wasn't in the mood for games.

"Because we don't need them!" Schwoz suddenly announced and as Ray scrambled to his feet with the help of his sweet girl, they looked up towards the sprocket to see him, Charlotte and Jasper sitting on the stairs, lurking in the Man Cave like bats watching a cave. Did they know how creepy it was to sit in the dark, in silence, sipping juice?

"We have night vision now!" "The liquid cleanse worked!" The teens boasted and drank more of their smoothie. Of course, they could see the way (y/n) was glaring at them but the fact that they could see in the dark made them too smug to care. Oh, yeah, right, night vision, like that was real.

"Well, turn them back on!" He shouted sternly, feeling equally fed up with how the night had gone, but it was about to get even worse. Whether they were careless or just pulling some cruel prank was unclear but all the same, they laughed loudly when Ray took another step, his first without (y/n)'s support, and instantly put his foot on a ladder's rung, meaning he tripped and yet again painfully fell with a small scream. And so went the last string of the woman's patience.

Time for Henry to make a clean getaway.

"Right, Charlotte, get down here and turn the damn lights on, Jasper, start cleaning this lot up and Schwoz, grow up!" She growled furiously and ignored Ray's weak moans assuring her that his indestructibility meant he was okay. No, it was not okay. Just because he wasn't hurt didn't give them a free pass; this was a place of work, not a funfair and there was no way in hell that they were gonna be made to be the clowns for a cheap laugh.

"I'm going home...I'm going home!" Henry muttered to himself as he whacked the elevator button like lightning, wishing it would come sooner. He'd rather go back to the disaster that was his house than face (y/n)'s wrath because whilst she was the kindest, gentlest soul on Earth ninety-five per cent of the time, the other five per cent was goddamn beastly. There was annoyed, then, there was mad, then, there was angry, then, there was pissed off and then...there was this. The meltdown.

"Oh, come on, (y/n/n)!" Charlotte giggled and happily skipped down the stairs, not taking her friend's stern face seriously. That gave Henry more incentive to run for the hills because that face was not to be mistaken or taken lightly and he was glad when the door finally shut to take him someplace where he couldn't be shouted out. The soft-spoken persona fooled a lot of people—-poor them.

"No, not come on, (y/n/n)! I have eaten fish lasagne, I have had Mitch Bilsky's hand on my knee, Jeff Bilsky's hand dangerously close to my butt and I very nearly went to jail. I am not coming home to more chaos, so start cleaning up!" Her sharp tone made them flinch and at last, the corners of their mouths went limp and the fun was over. Schwoz was the first to follow orders, mumbling to himself in his native language as he plodded down the steps to take their cups to the kitchen, but the teens were more hardheaded.

This was (y/n) they were talking to, the nice one, their friend, the dare they say slight pushover. She wasn't that bad.

"But—" Jasper opened his mouth, but the heroine wasn't having it, not from Charlotte, not from Curly.

"No buts! I am going to go shower and order a pizza, and if this room isn't spotless with the lights on by the time I get back, then there is going to be hell to pay, do I make myself clear?" She looked at them, or in their vague direction with her hands on her hips and hard, serious eyes. Weirdly, she had a remarkable talent for finding them in the dark and the boy and girl looked down solemnly as they realised she was serious. Message received loud and clear.

"Yes, (y/n)..."

"Good. Then, get to work!" And with one last huff, she walked off, up and through the sprocket so she could shower to remove the pesky dye that still stained her skin. That left Charlotte and Jasper to titter about whose fault it was that put her in a bad mood as the girl hit the lights and the boy started collecting the bucket amongst other things.

Many things were still on the floor, including one starstruck superhero, who was in awe of what he'd just witnessed.

"Damn, that was hot..." he muttered to himself, having laid on the floor ever since he fell victim to the ladder because when his sweet girl took charge, his bones turned to jelly.

Who knew she could be the boss like that? He certainly didn't, but that didn't mean he wouldn't like to see angry (y/n) again.

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speccyfilmnerd · 3 months

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"Brazil"- A Heartbreaking Mid-Eighties Dystopian Art Piece.

11.2.24 (short)

Directed by Terry Gilliam, 'Brazil' (released in 1985) clearly takes inspiration from George Orwell's '1984', leading the viewer through impressively oppressive dirty and dark city streets. Just enough to create the feeling of being crushed, and then letting us loose inside the tender and free mind of Sam Lowry.

As I always say, please watch the film before reading. I try not to get too much into spoilers but as with most things, Brazil is best experienced completely blind and with your full attention.

Combining strict and organised visuals, a muted colour pallete and typical Python wit, Gilliam paints the 'real' world as an Orwellian satire of modern city/office life. Air is unclean, Ducts swarm living spaces and nobody goes unwatched.

Gilliam also fills out minds with a beautiful contrast, Sam's dreams. These sequences are simply breathtaking and gorgeous. Using colours, textures and costuming to completely parallel the outside world, we learn about Sam's desire for love and freedom. (Although he repeatedly denies and refuses himself these pleasures) Sam decides to take charge of his own life after a simple human mistake begins to tear the institution he works for apart from the inside.

His main motivation is, of course, love. While trying to do his job like he would any other day, Sam meets the eyes of the woman he protects in his dreams. The film is (in my opinion) an example of excellent storytelling, combined with beautiful visuals and spectacular performances to create an experience that is thrilling and almost unmatched.

Brazil is frankly horrifying at times. Others it is funny, funny enough to make you spit out your drink and sad enough to make you cry and uplifting enough to make you cheer. A truly unique piece that I will always sing praises for.

#brazil #terry gilliam #film #movie review

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forestwater87 · 7 years

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John Dies at the End -- David Wong

So okay this is literally the best book I’ve ever read, but there’s really no way to explain “drug that lets you see into other dimensions turns two assholes into the worst exorcists ever” that doesn’t make it sound a little lame, so fuck it. I’m typing up the entire goddamn prologue.

If you need something to read, just . . . try it. It’s amazing. Try the book that the author calls a “convoluted NyQuil fever dream of a horror story,” “a Class II biohazard,” “the unholy thing I was growing in my brain’s murky cloning vat,” a “gruesome hyperactive chain of absurd non sequiturs,” “a crash between two semi trucks hauling napalm and vibrators,” “400 pages of undiagnosed personality disorder,” a “150,000-word cry for help,” “a hallucinogenic cacophonous Mardi Gras of fart monsters,” and “a 400-page tour through my misfiring synapses.”

Seriously, everyone. A work of fucking genius.

Prologue

SOLVING THE FOLLOWING riddle will reveal the awful secret behind the universe, assuming you do not go utterly mad in the attempt. If you already happen to know the awful secret behind the universe, feel free to skip ahead.

Let’s say you have an ax. Just a cheap one, from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don’t worry, the man was already dead. Or maybe you should worry, because you’re the one who shot him.

He had been a big, twitchy guy with veiny skin stretched over swollen biceps, a tattoo of a swastika on his tongue. Teeth filed into razor-sharp fangs—you know the type. And you’re chopping off his head because, even with eight bullet holes in him, you’re pretty sure he’s about to spring back to his feet and eat the look of terror right off your face. On the follow-through of the last swing, though, the handle of the ax snaps in a spray of splinters. You now have a broken ax. So, after a long night of looking for a place to dump the man and his head, you take a trip into town with your ax. You go to the hardware store, explaining away the dark reddish stains on the broken handle as barbecue sauce. You walk out with a brand-new handle for your ax. The repaired ax sits undisturbed in your garage until the spring when, on one rainy morning, you find in your kitchen a creature that appears to be a foot-long slug with a bulging egg sac on its tail. Its jaws bite one of your forks in half with what seems like very little effort. You grab your trusty ax and chop the thing into several pieces. On the last blow, however, the ax strikes a metal leg of the overturned kitchen table and chips out a notch right in the middle of the blade. Of course, a chipped head means yet another trip to the hardware store. They sell you a brand-new head for your ax. As soon as you get home, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded earlier. He’s also got a new head, stitched on with what looks like plastic weed-trimmer line, and it’s wearing that unique expression of “you’re the man who killed me last winter” resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life. You brandish your ax. The guy takes a long look at the weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he screams, “That’s the same ax that beheaded me!” IS HE RIGHT?

I WAS PONDERING that riddle as I reclined on my porch at 3:00 A.M., a chilled breeze numbing my cheeks and earlobes and flicking tickly hairs across my forehead. I had my feet up on the railing, leaning back in one of those cheap plastic lawn chairs, the kind that blow out onto the lawn during every thunderstorm. It would have been a good occasion to smoke a pipe had I owned one and had I been forty years older. It was one of those rare moments of mental peace I get these days, the kind you don’t appreciate until they’re ov— My cell phone screeched, the sound like a sonic bee sting. I dug the slim little phone from my jacket pocket, glanced at the number and felt a sickening little twinge of fear. I disconnected the call without answering. The world was silent again, save for the faint applause of trees rustling in the wind and crumbly dead leaves scraping lightly down the pavement. That, and the scuffle of a mentally challenged dog trying to climb onto the chair next to me. After two attempts to mount the thing, Molly managed to send the chair clattering onto its side. She stared at the toppled chair for several seconds and then started barking at it. The phone again. Molly growled at the chair. I closed my eyes, said an angry five-word prayer and answered the call. “Hello?” “Dave? This is John. Your pimp says bring the heroin shipment tonight, or he’ll be forced to stick you. Meet him where we buried the Korean whore. The one without the goatee.” That was code. It meant “Come to my place as soon as you can, it’s important.” Code, you know, in case the phone was bugged. “John, it’s three in the—” “Oh, and don’t forget, tomorrow is the day we kill the president.” Click. He was gone. That last part was code for, “Stop and pick me up some cigarettes on the way.” Actually, the phone probably was bugged, but I was confident the people doing it could just as easily do some kind of remote intercept of our brain waves if they wanted, so it was moot. Two minutes and one very long sigh later, I was humming through the night in my truck, waiting for the heater to blow warm air and trying not to think of Frank Campo. I clicked on the radio, hoping to keep the fear at bay via distraction. I got a local right-wing talk radio program. “I’m here to tell ya, immigration, it’s like rats on a ship. America is the ship and allllll these rats are comin’ on board, y’all. And you know what happens when a ship gets too many rats on board? It sinks. That’s what.” I wondered if a ship had ever really sunk that way. I wondered what was giving my truck that rotten-egg smell. I wondered if the gun was still under the driver’s seat. I wondered. Was there something moving back there, in the darkness? I glanced in my rearview mirror. No, a trick of the shadows. I thought of Frank Campo. Frank was an attorney, heading home from the office one evening in his black Lexus. The car’s wax job gleaming in the night like a shell of black ice, Frank feeling weightless and invincible behind the greenish glow of his dashboard lights. He senses a tingling on his legs. He flips on the dome light. Spiders. Thousands of them.

Each the size of a hand.

They’re spilling over his knees, pushing up inside his pant legs. The things look like they’re bred for war, jagged black bodies with yellow stripes, long spiny legs like needle points.

He freaks, cranks the wheel, flips down an embankment.

After they pried him out of the wreckage and after he stopped ranting, the cops assured him there wasn’t a sign of even one spider inside the car.

If it had ended there, you could write it off as a bad night, a trick of the eyes, one of Scrooge’s bad potatoes. But it didn’t end there. Frank kept seeing things—awful things—and over the months all the king’s doctors and all the king’s pills couldn’t make Frank’s waking nightmares go away.

And yet, other than that, the guy was fine. Lucid. As sane as a sunset. He’d write a brilliant legal brief on Wednesday, and on Thursday he’d swear he saw tentacles writhing under the judge’s robes.

So? Who do you go to in a situation like that?

I pulled up to John’s building, felt the old dread coming back, churning like a sour stomach. The brisk wind chased me to the door, carrying a faint sulfur smell blown from a plant outside town that brewed drain cleaner. That and the pair of hills in the distance gave the impression of living downwind from a sleeping, farty giant.

John opened the door to his third-floor apartment and immediately gestured toward a very cute and very frightened-looking woman on his sofa. “Dave, this is Shelly. She needs our help.”

Our help.

That dread, like a punch in the stomach. You see, people like Frank Campo, and this girl, they never came for “our help” when they needed a carburetor rebuilt.

We had a specialty.

Shelly was probably nineteen, with powder-blue eyes and the kind of crystal clear pale skin that gave her a china doll look, chestnut curls bundled behind her head in a ponytail. She wore a long, flowing skirt that her fingers kept messing with, an outfit that only emphasized how small she was. She had the kind of self-conscious, pleading helplessness some guys go crazy for. Girl in distress. Makes you want to rescue her, take her home, curl up with her, tell her everything is gonna be okay.

She had a white bandage on her temple.

John stepped into the corner of his tiny apartment that served as the kitchen and smoothly returned to place a cup of coffee in her hands. I struggled to keep my eyes from rolling; John’s almost therapist-like professionalism was ridiculous in a room dominated by a huge plasma-screen TV with four video game systems wired to it. John had his hair pulled back into a neat job-interview ponytail and was wearing a button-up shirt. He could look like a grown-up from time to time.

I was about to warn the girl about John’s coffee, which tasted like a cup of battery acid someone had pissed in and then cursed at for several hours, but John turned to her and in a lawyerly voice said, “Shelly, tell us your story.”

She raised timid eyes to me. “It’s my boyfriend. He . . . he won’t leave me alone. He’s been harassing me for about a week. My parents are gone, on vacation and I’m . . . I’m terrified to go home.”

She shook her head, apparently out of words. She sipped the coffee, then grimaced as if it had bit her.

“Miss—”

“Morris,” she said, barely audible.

“Ms. Morris, I strongly recommend a women’s shelter. They can help you get a restraining order, keep you safe, whatever. There are three in this city, and I’ll be happy to make the call—”

“He—my boyfriend, I mean—he’s been dead for two months.”

John cast a little gleeful glance my way, as if to say, “See how I deliver for you, Dave?” I hated that look. She went on.

“I—I didn’t know where else to go. I heard, you know, through a friend of mine that you handle, um, unusual problems.” She nudged aside a stack of DVD cases on an end table and sat the mug down, glancing at it distrustfully as if to remind herself not to accidentally drink from it again, lest it betray her anew. She turned back to me.

“They say you’re the best.”

I didn’t inform her that whoever called us “the best” had pretty low standards. I guess we were the best in town at this, but who would you brag to about that? It’s not like this shit has its own section of the phone book.

I walked over to a cushioned chair and scooped out its contents (four worn guitar magazines, a sketch pad, and a leather-bound King James Version of the Holy Bible). As I tried to settle in, a leg broke off and the whole chair slumped over at a thirty-degree angle. I leaned over nonchalantly, trying to look like that’s exactly what I had expected to happen.

“Okay. When he comes, you can see him?”

“Yes. I can hear him, too. And he, uh . . .”

She brushed the bandage on the side of her skull. I looked at her in bewilderment. Was she serious?

“He hits you?”

“Yes.”

“With his fist?”

“Yes.”

John looked up from his coffee indignantly. “Man, what a dick!”

I did roll my eyes this time and glared at John once they stopped. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a ghost, but I’m guessing that if you did, the thing didn’t run over and punch you in the face. I’m guessing that’s never happened to any of your friends, either.

“When it first happened,” Shelly said, “I thought I was going crazy. Up until now, I’ve never bel—”

“Believed in ghosts,” I finished. “Right.” That line was obligatory, everybody wanting to come off as the credible skeptic. “Look, Miss, I don’t want to—”

“I told her we would look into it tonight,” John said, heading me off before I accidentally introduced some rational thought into this thing. “He’s haunting her house, out in [town name removed for privacy]. I thought you and I could head over there, get out of the city for a night, show this bastard what’s what.”

I felt a burst of irritation, mostly because John knew the story was bullshit. But then it suddenly clicked in my mind that, yes, John knew, and he had called me because he was trying to set me up with this girl. Button-cute, dead boyfriend, chance to be her hero. As usual, I didn’t know whether to thank him or punch him in the balls.

Sixteen different objections rose up in my mind at once and somehow they all canceled each other out. Maybe if there had been an odd number. . . .

WE HEADED OUT, in my Bronco. We had told Shelly not to drive herself, in case she had a concussion, but the reality was that, whether or not her story was true, we still had vivid memories of Mr. Campo and his unusually spidery car. You see, Frank found out the hard way that the dark things lurking in the night don’t haunt old houses or abandoned ships. They haunt minds.

Shelly was in the passenger seat, hugging herself, looking blankly out the windshield. She said, “So, do you guys, like, do this a lot?”

“Off and on,” said John. “Been doing it for a few years.”

“How does somebody get into this?”

“There was an incident,” he said. “A series of incidents, I guess. A dead guy, another dead guy. Some drugs. It’s kind of a long story. Now we can see things. Sometimes. I have a dead cat that follows me around, wondering why I never feed it. Oh, and I had one hamburger that started mooing when I ate it.” He glanced at me. “You remember that?”

I grunted, said nothing.

It wasn’t mooing, John. It was screaming.

Shelly didn’t look like she was listening anymore.

“I call it Dante’s Syndrome,” John said. I had never heard him call it any such thing. “Meaning, I think Dave and I gained the ability to peer into Hell. Only it turns out Hell is right here, it’s all through us and around us and in us like the microbes that swarm through your lungs and guts and veins. Hey, look! An owl!”

We all looked. It was an owl, all right.

“Anyway,” I broke in, “we just did a couple of favors for people, eventually word got around.”

I felt like that was enough background and I wanted to stop John before he got to the part where he says he kept eating that screaming hamburger, down to the last bite.

I left the truck running as I jumped out at my place for supplies. I bypassed the house for the weatherworn toolshed in the backyard, opened the padlocked door and swept over the dark shelves with my flashlight:

A Winnie the Pooh toy with dried blood around its eyes;

A stuffed and mounted badgerconda (a cross between a badger and an anaconda);

A large Mason jar filled with cloudy formaldehyde, where inside floated a six-inch clump of cockroaches arranged roughly in the shape of a human hand.

I grabbed a medieval-style torch John had stolen from the wall of a theme restaurant. I picked up a clear squeeze bottle filled with a thick green liquid that immediately turned bloodred as soon as I touched it. I reconsidered, sat it back on the shelf and grabbed my vintage 1987 ghetto blaster instead.

I went into the house and called to Molly. I opened a small plastic tub in the kitchen cabinet filled with little pink, rubbery chunks, like erasers. I put a handful in my pocket and rushed back out the door, the dog following on my heels.

Shelly lived in a simple two-story farmhouse, black shutters on white siding. It sat on an island of turf in a sea of harvest-flattened cornfields. We walked past a mailbox shaped like a cow and saw a hand-painted sign on the front door that read THE MORRISON’S—ESTABLISHED 1962. John and I had a long debate at the door about whether or not that apostrophe belonged there.

I know, I know. If I had a brain, I would have walked away right then.

John stepped up, pushed open the front door and ducked aside. I dug in my pocket and pulled out one of the pink chunks. They were steak-shaped dog treats, complete with little brown grill lines. I realized at that moment that no dog would know what those grill lines were and that they were purely for my benefit.

“Molly!”

I shook the treat in front of her and then tossed it through the door. The dog ran in after it.

We waited for the sound of, say, dog flesh splattering across a wall, but heard only the padding of Molly’s paws. Eventually she came back to the door, grinning stupidly. We decided it was safe to go in.

Shelly opened her mouth as if to express some kind of disapproval, but apparently decided against it. We stepped into the dark living room. Shelly moved to flip on a light, but I stopped her with a hand motion.

Instead, John hefted the torch and touched his lighter to it. A foot-tall flame erupted from the head and we slowly crept through the house by its flickering light. I noticed John had brought along a thermos of his coffee, this “favor” already qualifying as an all-nighter. I admit, the horrific burning sensation really did keep you awake.

I asked, “Where do you see him, mostly?”

Shelly’s fingers started twisting at her skirt again. “The basement. And once I saw him in the bathroom. His hand, it, uh, came up through the toilet while I—”

“Okay. Show us the basement door.”

“It’s in the kitchen, but I—guys, I don’t wanna go down there.”

“It’s cool,” John said. “Stay here with the dog, we’ll go down and check it out.”

I glanced at John, figuring that should have been my line as her handsome new knightly protector. We clomped down the stairs, torchlight pooling down the stairwell. Shelly waited behind us, crouching next to Molly and stroking her back.

A nice, modern basement.

Washer and dryer.

A hot-water heater making a soft ticking sound.

One of those waist-deep floor freezers.

John said, “He’s not here.”

“Big surprise.”

John used the torch to light a cigarette.

“She seems like a nice girl, doesn’t she?” John said softly and with a kind of smarmy wink in his voice. “You know, she reminds me of Amber. Jennifer’s friend. When she came to my door, for a second I actually thought it was her. By the way, I wanna thank you for comin’ along, Dave, sort of being my wingman on this. I’m not saying I’m going to take advantage of her distress or anything, but . . .”

I had tuned John out. Something was off, I knew right then. Lingering in the back of my mind, like a kid in the last row of the classroom with his hand up. John was acting all detectivey now, leaning over a large sink with a bundle of white cloth draped over the side.

“Oh, yeah,” said John, pulling up a length of cloth. “Take a look at this shit.” The garment was white, a single piece with straps, like an apron. Well, it had been white. Once. Now it was mostly smudges of faded-blood pink at the center, like a kindergarten kid’s rendering of the Japanese flag.

I turned to the large floor freezer. That freaking dread again, cold and hard and heavy. I strode over and opened the lid.

“Oh, geez.”

It was a tongue. That’s the first thing I saw, rubbery and purplish and not quite human. It was longer, animal-like, twisted inside a ziplock bag and coated in frost. And it wasn’t alone; the freezer was filled with hunks of flesh, some in clear bags, some bigger chunks in pink-stained white paper.

Butcher paper. White apron.

“Well, I think it’s obvious,” said John. “Those stories of UFOs that go around mutilating cows? I think we just solved it, my friend.”

I sighed.

“It’s a deer, you jackass. Her dad hunts, apparently. They keep the meat.”

I nudged around and found a frozen turkey, some sausages. I closed the lid to the fridge, feeling stupid, though not for the reason I should have felt stupid. I wasn’t thinking. Too late at night, too little sleep.

John started poking around in cabinets. I glanced around for the boom box, realizing now that we hadn’t brought it down here. Why did that bother me? It was upstairs with Shelly, right?

“Hey, Dave. You remember that guy whose basement got flooded, then called us and swore he had a fifteen-foot great white shark swimmin’ down there?”

I did remember but didn’t answer, afraid of losing that thread of thought that kept floating just out of reach like a wayward balloon on a windy day. Besides, when we got there, it wasn’t a great white at all. Just a garden-variety eight-foot tiger shark. We told the guy to wait until the basement dried out and call us back. When the water left, so did the shark, as if it evaporated or seeped out the tiny cracks in the concrete.

Think. Damned attention span. Something is wrong here.

I tried to pull myself back from my tangent, thinking of the boom box again. John had found it at a garage sale. There’s a story in the Old Testament, a young David driving away an evil spirit by playing pretty music on his harp—

Wait a second.

“John, did I hear you say you thought she looked like Amber?”

“Yeah.”

“John, Amber’s almost as tall as me. Blond hair, kind of top-heavy, right?”

“Yeah, cute as hell. I mean—”

“And you think Shelly looks like her? The girl sitting upstairs?”

“Yeah.” John turned to face me, already getting it.

“John, Shelly is short. Short with dark hair. Blue eyes.”

—They haunt minds—

John sighed, plucked out his cigarette and flung it to the floor. “Fuck.”

We turned toward the stairs, took a step up, and froze. Shelly was there, sitting halfway up the stairs, one arm curled around Molly’s neck. Innocent, wary eyes. Playing the part.

I stepped slowly onto the third stair, said, “Tell me something, Miss, uh, I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your last name—”

“Shelly is fine.”

“Yeah, remind me anyway. I hate forgetting things.”

“Morris.”

I took another step toward her.

“That’s what I thought.”

Another step. I heard John step up behind me.

“So,” I said, “whose house is this?”

“What?”

“The sign out front says Morrison. Morris-son. Not Morris. Now would you describe your own appearance for me?”

“I don’t—”

“You see, because John and I have this thing where we’re both seeing completely different versions of you. Now, John has eyesight problems because of his constant masturbation, but I don’t think—”

She burst into snakes.

That’s right. Her body sort of spilled out of itself, falling into a dark, writhing puddle on the ground. It was a tangle of long, black serpents, rolling over each other and down the steps. We kicked at them as they slithered past, John warding them off with the torch.

Some, I saw, had patches of color on their scales, like flesh or the flowered pattern of Shelly’s dress. I caught a glimpse of one snake with a writhing human eyeball still embedded in its side, the iris powder blue.

Molly jumped back and barked—a little too late, I thought—and made a show of snapping at one of the snakes as it wound its way down the stairs. She bounded to the top of the stairs and disappeared through the doorway. We kicked through the slithering things and stomped up after the dog, just as the stairwell door banged shut on its own.

I reached for the knob. At the same moment it began to melt and transform, turning pink and finally taking the shape of a flaccid penis. It flopped softly against the door, like a man was cramming it through the knob hole from the other side.

I turned back to John and said, “That door cannot be opened.”

We stumbled back down the stairs, John jumping the last five, shoes smacking on the concrete. The snakes fled from the firelight and disappeared under shelves and between cardboard boxes.

That’s when the basement started filling with shit.

The brown sludge oozed up from the floor drain, an unmistakable stench rising above it. I looked around for a window we could crawl out of, found none. The sewage bloomed out from the center of the floor, swirling around the soles of my shoes.

John shouted, “There!”

I whipped my head in his direction, saw him grab a little plastic crate from a shelf and set it on the floor. He climbed up on it, then just stood there with the muck rising below. Finally he looked at me and said, “What are you doing? Go find us a way outta here!”

I was ankle-deep now in a pool that was disturbingly warm. I sloshed around, looking above me until I found the large, square duct feeding into the first floor from the furnace. The return air vent. I went to a pegboard on the wall and grabbed a foot-long screwdriver. I jabbed it into the crease between the metal of the duct and the floor, prying down the apparatus with a squeal of pulled nails.

I finally got a hold on the edge of the metal duct and felt it cut into my fingers. I pulled it down to reveal the dark living room above me, blocked by a metal grid. I jumped and knocked the grate aside with my hands. I leapt again and grabbed floor with both hands, feeling carpet under my fingers. With a series of frantic, awkward movements I managed to pull my limbs up until I could roll over on the floor of the living room.

I looked back at the square hole and saw a flicker of flame emerge, followed by the torch and then John’s hand. In a few seconds we were both standing in the living room, glancing around, breathing heavily.

Nothing.

A low, pulsing sound emerged from the air around us. A laugh. A dry, humorless cough of a noise, as if the house itself was expelling the air with giant lungs of wood and plaster.

John said, “Asshole.”

“John, I’m changing my cell number tomorrow. And I’m not giving you the new one. Now let’s get this over with.”

We both knew the drill. We had to draw the thing out somehow. John handed me his lighter.

“You light some candles. I’ll go stand in the shower naked.”

Molly followed me as I went back to where we left the boom box and the other supplies. I lit a few candles around the house—just enough to make it spooky. John showered, I found another bathroom and washed the sludge off my shoes and feet.

“Oh, no!” I heard John shout over the running water. “It’s dark in here and here I am in the shower! Alone! I’m so naked and vulnerable!”

Out of things to do, I walked around for a bit and eventually found a bedroom. I glanced at my watch, sighed, then lay down over the covers. It was almost four in the morning.

This could go on for hours, or days. Time. That’s all they have. I heard Molly plop down on the floor below. I reached down to pet her and she licked my hand the way dogs do. I wondered why in the world they felt the need to do that. I’ve often thought about trying it the next time somebody got their fingers close to my mouth, like at the dentist.

John came back twenty minutes later, wearing what must have been the smallest towel he could find. He lowered his voice. “I think I saw a hatch for an attic earlier. I’m gonna see if there’s room to crawl around up there, see if maybe there’s a big scary-looking footlocker it can pop out of or somethin’.”

I nodded. John raised his voice theatrically and said, “Oh, no. We are trapped here all alone. I will go see if I can find help.”

“Yes,” I answered, loudly. “Perhaps we should split up.”

John left the room. I tried to relax, hoping even to doze off. Ghosts love to sneak up on you when you’re sleeping. I scratched Molly’s head and—

SLEEP. LICKING. A soft splashing sound from another room. I dreamed I saw a shadow peel itself off the far wall and float toward me. Most of my dreams are like that, always based on something that really happened.

My eyes snapped open, my right arm still hanging over the edge of the mattress, the rough tongue still flapping away at my ring finger. How long had I been out? Thirty seconds? Two hours?

I sat up, trying to adjust to the darkness. A faint glow pulsed from the hall where the nearest candle burned away in the bathroom.

I quietly stepped off the foot of the bed and headed across the room into the hallway. Down the hall now, toward the sound and the light. I ran my hand along the textured plaster of the wall until I reached the bathroom, the source of the gentle splashing. Not splashing. Slurping. I peered in.

Molly, drinking from the toilet. She turned to look at me with an almost catlike “can I help you?” stare. I thought absently that she was drinking the poowater with the same mouth she used to lick my hand. . . .

If she’s in here, then that wasn’t her by the bed.

I picked the candle off the counter and headed back to the bedroom. I stepped in, the candle casting an uneven halo of light around me, rustling the shadows aside. I moved toward the bed and saw . . .

Meat. Dozens of the wrapped and now partially unwrapped hunks from the freezer, laying neatly on the floor next to the bed in an almost ceremonial fashion, the objects arranged in the rough shape of a man.

I moved the light toward the head area, where I found a frozen turkey still in the Butterball wrapper. Under it, wedged between turkey and torso, was the disembodied deer tongue, flapping around of its own accord.

Hmmmm. That was different.

I jumped back as the turkey, the tongue, and a slab of ribs levitated off the floor.

The man-shaped arrangement of meat rose up, as if functioning as one body. It pushed itself up on two arms made of game hens and country bacon, planting two hands with sausage-link fingers on the floor. The phrase “sodomized by a bratwurst poltergeist” suddenly flew through my mind. Finally it stood fully upright, looking like the mascot for a butcher shop whose profits went entirely to support the owner’s acid habit.

“John! We got, uh, something here.”

It was about seven feet tall, its turkey head swiveling side to side to survey the room, the tongue swaying uselessly below. It extended a sausage to me.

“You.”

It was an accusation. Had we dealt with this thing before? I didn’t remember it, but I was bad with faces.

“You have tormented me six times. Now prepare to meat your doom!”

I have no way of knowing that it actually said “meat” instead of “meet” but I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. I ran.

“John! John! We got a Situation Fifty-three here!”

The thing gave chase, its shaved-ham feet slapping the floor behind me. My candle went out. I tossed it aside. I saw a closed door to my right, so I skidded to a stop, threw it open, and flung myself in.

Linen shelves smacked me in the face and I fell back out of the closet, dazed. The meat man wrapped its cold links around my neck and lifted me up. It pinned me against the wall.

“You disappoint me. All those times we have dueled. In the desert. In the city. You thought you had vanquished me in Venice, didn’t you?”

I was so impressed by this thing’s ability to articulate words using that flapping deer tongue and a frozen turkey that I almost lost track of what it was saying.

Venice? Did he say Venice? What?

Molly came by just then, trotting along like everything was just A-OK in Dogland.

Then she noticed some meat standing nearby and started happily chewing on a six-inch-wide tube of bologna serving as the thing’s ankle.

“AARRRRRGHHHH!!!!”

It dropped me to the floor. I scrambled to my feet and ran downstairs. The meat man followed.

At the foot of the stairs, John was waiting.

He was holding the stereo.

The monster stopped halfway down the staircase, its eyeless turkey head staring down the device in John’s hands, as if recognizing the danger.

Oh, how that Old Testament demon must have howled and shrieked at the sight of young David’s harp, seeing at work a form of ancient magic that can pierce any darkness. The walking meat horror knew what was coming, that the same power was about to be tapped.

John nodded, as if to say, “Checkmate.”

He pushed the “play” button.

Sound filled the room, a crystal melody that could lift any human heart and turn away any devil.

It was “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake.

The monster grabbed the spots on the turkey where its ears would be and fell to its knees. John wielded the stereo before him like a holy talisman, stepping up the stairs, driving the sound closer to the beast. Every inch of its fat-marbled skin and gristle writhed in agony.

“Take it!” John screamed, suddenly emboldened. “It looks like you should have taken time to beef up your defenses!”

The beast grabbed its abdomen; in pain, I thought.

Instead it pried loose a canned ham and, before John could react, hurled it at the stereo, the can whizzing through the air like a Randy Johnson fastball.

Direct hit. Sparks and bits of plastic flew. The stereo tumbled out of John’s hands and fell heavily to the stairs.

Disarmed, John hopped down to the floor as the beast rose to its feet and pursued. It grabbed John by the neck. It snatched at me, but I dodged and grabbed the coffee thermos from the table. I ran back with the thermos, spun off the top and dashed the contents at the meaty arm that held John.

The meatstrocity screamed. The arm smoked and bubbled, then burst into flame. The limb then blackened and peeled off from the socket, falling to the hardwood below. John was free, falling to his knees and gasping for air.

The beast howled, collapsing to the floor meatily. With its only remaining arm, it pointed at me.

“You’ll never defeat me, Marconi! I have sealed this house with my powers. You cannot escape!”

I stopped, put my hands on my hips and strode up to it. “Marconi? As in, Doctor-slash-Father Albert Marconi? The guy who hosts Magical Mysteries on the Discovery Channel?”

John stepped over and glared at the wounded thing. “You dumbass. Marconi is fifty years old. He has white hair. Dave and I aren’t that old combined. Your nemesis is probably off giving some seminar, standing waist-deep in a pile of his own money.”

The thing turned its turkey at me.

“Tell ya what,” I offered. “If I can get you in touch with Marconi so you two can work out your little differences, will you release us?”

“You lie!”

“Well, I can’t get him down here, but surely a being as superhumanly powerful as you can destroy him at a distance, right? Here.”

It watched me as I fished out my cell phone and dialed. After talking to a secretary, a press agent, a bodyguard, an operator, the secretary again and finally a personal assistant, I got through.

“This is Marconi. My secretary says you have some kind of a meat monster there?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

I offered the phone to Meaty. “Do we have a deal?”

The thing stood up, hesitated, then finally nodded its turkey up and down. I held out the phone, while giving John a dark look that I hoped conveyed the fact that Plan B involved me letting the monster beat the shit out of him while I tried to escape out of a window somewhere. Fucking girl and her “ghost boyfriend.” Marconi would have seen this shit coming a mile away.

A bundle of sausage fingers took the phone from my hand.

“So!” it boomed into the receiver. “We meat again, Marconi. You thought you had vanquished me but I—”

The beast spontaneously combusted into a ball of unholy blue light. With a shriek that pierced my ears, it left our world. The lifeless meat slapped to the floor piece by piece, the cell phone clattering next to the pile.

Silence.

“Damn, he’s good,” said John. I walked over and picked up the cell phone. I put it to my ear to ask the doctor what he had done, but it was the secretary again. I switched it off. The doctor hadn’t even hung around long enough to say hello.

John made a casual hand-dusting motion. “Well. That was pretty stupid.”

I tried the front door and it opened easily. Who knows, maybe it had never been sealed. We took time to straighten up the place, not finding any Morrisons restrained or dismembered and figuring that “Shelly” was at least telling the truth when she said the real family was on vacation. The shit had vanished from the basement, but I couldn’t fix the heating duct I had messed up earlier. We packed the meat back into the freezer as best we could, with one exception.

The sun was already dissolving the night sky by the time I got home. I opened up the toolshed and set the broken boom box inside. I found an empty jar, filled it from a square can of formaldehyde and dropped the deer tongue in. I placed it on the shelf next to a stuffed monkey paw, lying lifeless with two fingers extended. I locked up and went to bed.

—from the journal of David Wong

#john dies at the end #david wong #seriously #my favorite book #except maybe the sequel #gotta be real this book still scares the shit outta me #it's the best combination of funny and horrifying

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