LauraYT

The Thunderman family—your typical suburban neighborhood family. Well, they felt like that about two percent of the time. The parents were loving and caring toward their four children, always proud and always there for dinner, even if things got a little chaotic.

Their beautiful children, were a reflection of them in the best ways—well, most of them. Phoebe, Nora, and Billy were all helping out in the kitchen in their own ways.

Phoebe was setting the table using her telekinesis—still helping, nonetheless.

Nora was using her heat vision to cook the meatloaf just right while her mom worked on the sides for dinner.

Billy, rather than running around the house with his superspeef, was actually just sitting at the table—keeping things decent. He said he was tired, but everyone knew he never got tired. He just wanted to show his parents some grace.

A typical suburban family.

The only Thunderman not at the home was Max—though no one was really expecting him in the first place. He was never home on time, and even when he was, he’d usually stay holed up in his room to avoid socializing with his ‘goody goody’ family.

Barb and Hank, Mr. and Mrs. Thunderman, finally sat at the table with the kids, smiling. 

“Well, dig in!” Barb said cheerfully, ready to hear about everyone’s day.

But before anyone could even lift a fork, the front door opened—and with it came soft laughter and a slight cold breeze.

“It is *so* cold outside. How are you not freezing?” asked an unfamiliar voice as the door closed behind them.

The Thunderman family turned their heads toward living room. Through the entryway, they saw Max standing at the door with someone. The stranger was bundled in layers and still shivering, while Max wore just a T-shirt. He was angled just enough to block their face, so no one at the table could get a clear look.

Phoebe leaned forward, “Do you think it’s an accomplice and he’s hiding their identity?” she whsipered, straining her neck for a better view.

No one responded. The energy of the room felt different than usual. This wasn’t one of Max’s usual friends or ‘projects’. This was something different—something none of them could quite place.

Then it happened. A sound they hadn’t heard outside of Max’s lair. A sound they hadn’t heard so genuinely in years: Max laughed. A real, full laugh—his head falling back. As he turned slightly, they caught a glimpse of his flushed cheeks.

“Trust me, I’m pretty used to the cold,” he told you, zipping up the jacket you were wearing.

“I’m scared you’ll get sick, you shouldn’t have given me your jacket,” you pouted, placing a hand on his forehead.

His hair shifted under your touch, and he smiled warmly, gazing at you. “It’s fine. I didn’t want *you* getting sick.” he murmured, taking your hand off his forehead to hold and holding it to warm it in his. 

“I’m not taking this home with me,” you said, reaching for the zipper.

“Yes, you are,” he replied playfully, zipping it back up, “You already made me come home early instead of walking you back, so the least you could do is keep the jacket.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, turning it—only to lock eyes with the entire Thunderman family staring intensely. You froze awkwardly and raised a small wave.

Max furrowed his brows in confusion, tilting his head before his eyes slightly widened. You could tell a small lightbuld went off in his head as his face dropped in horror. His ears turned bright red as he huffed and straightened up with a hiss through his teeth. He followed your gaze to his family and stopped himself from expressing his embarrassment. 

He raised his hand stiffly. “Family,” he greeted awkwardly, clearly wishing he could’ve just walked you home.

Barb and Hank scrambled to their feet, nearly tripping over themselves in their attempt to greet you smoothly—which failed, especially when they saw you lower your hand and stifle a laugh.

“Hello!” Barb beamed, waving enthusiastically as Hank slung an arm around her shoulders. The other three kids reamined frozen and uncomfortable at the table.

Hank nodded at Max, “You’re home,” he said bluntly. Then, noticing Max’s alarmed glance towards you, he added quickly, “15 minutes before curfew…*that we weren’t able to set on you,*” he mumbled the last part under his breath.

Max shot him an unimpressed look before glancing back ar you to make sure you hadn’t heard. You clearly you hadn’t, judging by how you hugged his arm with a cheerful grin.

“I wanted to make sure he was home around dinner!” you explained. “My family doesn’t eat until later, and when he said you all eat early, I had to rush us back so he could eat.”

Barb placed a hand on her head and cooed, “Aw, that’s sweet, thank you.” 

“No problem!” you replied, scrunching your nose and shrugging. 

After a beat of silence and some awkward stares with the other family members, Max turned to you, hoping his family would take the hint. 

Thankfully, they did—for the most part. They still stared from the table, but at least they stopped hovering.

“I think..I will go now,” you said, suppressing a laugh, Max groaned, burying his face in your shoulder.

“Don’t laugh!” he whispered, pulling back with the most unintimidating glare. 

You held your hands up in surrender and he pulled you in by your waist, rubbing your noses together.

“Sorry! Sorry—they’re sweet,” you said honestly, cupping his face. “But seriously, I do have to go.” 

He groaned. “I know.”

You kissed his cheek and opened the door, shivering once again. Then you remembered—you were still wearing his jacket.

“Your jacket-”

“Just keep it until tomorrow.” Max interrupted quickly, leaning on the doorframe. “I *will* see you tomorrow, right?”

“Eleven o’clock sharp,” you hummed, pecking his lips before heading off. You waved goodbye as you walked away.

Max closed the door behind you, resting his back against it. He sighed, face flushed, a goofy smile spreading across his face. Even his family could see the glint in his eyes.

After a moment, he pushed off the door and headed for the tunnel, kicking the button for his lair.

“Max!” Nora called after him. “What about dinner?”

He turned lazily, grin softening. “I ate while I was out,” he shrugged as the lair door opened. 

No one knew if that was true, but they decided not to press too much on that part.

Barb called out, “Well, before you go—how was your date?”

He paused and met her gaze. His eyes glimmered and his cheeks darkened. 

“It was great,” he said simply, nodding before sliding down to his lair and leaving his family behind.

Dinner was fairly quiet that night, but soft grins lingered on each their faces.

The Thundermans—your typical suburban neighborhood family. Hank and Barb, loving and caring, always there for their four kids. Always proud. Always around—even when nights bring out unexpected news. 

And their beautiful children—reflections of them in the best ways.