through cracks come the weeds,

the ballerina grins. " oh, i haven't had a good hot dog in forever. i've only gone out there a couple of times, but the ones at discovery park are so good. i tried it with pickles, ketchup and mustard on it, but i was so surprised that i enjoyed it. pickles don't belong everywhere, but it was incredible ! " jina was nothing short of a foodie, so trying the seemingly absurd topping wasn't entirely unheard of for her. " wait, what's your opinion on fried oreos ? i think we should add them to this food tour. "

"ooh, yeah, slap some relish on there... it's always a win," he says back. really, fitz will eat... just about anything. he's the type of guy to say "five second rule" too, unable to stop himself on any of it, "i like fried oreos. one year, they had fried iced tea. i tried it, it was awful, but i like to wear that as a badge of pride. let's get oreos, though. and — ice cream, too, if they've still got it. the crust is, like, so good."

" oh, wait. you have a point about that. " entering the contest had been entirely a spur of the moment decision, so losing wasn't tearing him up in the slightest. " it's terrible and i don't think i fully understand it. " august liked to think that his approach to the gym was rather normal. " carb maxxing ? now, that's something i could get behind. i've really been into grilled cheese on sourdough lately. " his brow quirks, releasing a soft breath. " it was definitely rigged, but there's always next summer, right ? "

"i don't care that much, but it would've been nice for them to feed into my hottest guy in town delusion, you know?" he cracks up, about the carb-maxxing. it's really just the fact that fitz has no self control, and eats like a teenager still. he's not really good at knowing what's healthy and what isn't, "ooh, grilled cheese. love that. i'm a big kraft singles on white bread supporter. but maybe i'm just lazy." he laughs, shaking his head, "if i enter this contest again next year, you gotta have me committed, man. i can't deal with the embarrassment of defeat twice."

                      he   stepped   back   toward   the   line,   tossing   one   bag   lightly   between   his   hands   before   her   question   landed.   simple.   too   simple.   beau   looked   over   at   her,   studying   her   for   just   a   second   longer   than   necessary.   there   was   something   about   the   way   she   asked   it.   casual,   polite,   almost   too   casual   and   too   polite.   "   you   know,   "   he   started,   a   small   smile   pulling   at   his   mouth,   “   for   somebody   about   to   get   absolutely   destroyed   in   a   fair   fight,   you're   awfully   focused   on   conversation.   ”   he   threw   the   first   bag,   watching   it   land   closer   than   he   expected.   not   bad.   “   i've   been   good.   ”   a   pause.   “   busy.   ”   which   was   the   most   beau   answer   possible.   he   picked   up   another   bag,   rolling   it   between   his   fingers.   “   work's   been   keepin'   me   occupied.   family   drama's   been   keepin'   me   entertained.   ”   a   glance   toward   her.   “   pretty   much   the   usual.   ”   he   didn't   mention   amara.   not   yet.   not   because   he   was   hiding   her   —   never   that.   but   because   he   knew   eilis.   he   knew   there   was   something   sitting   beneath   the   surface,   waiting.   and   beau   langford   had   survived   enough   family   dinners   to   recognize   when   someone   was   holding   a   knife   behind   their   back.   "   what   about   you?   "   he   asked,   tossing   another   bag.   "   you   been   good?   or   are   you   just   here   to   beat   me   at   cornhole   and   ruin   my   afternoon?   "   he   grinned   slightly.   "   because   i'll   tell   you   now,   eilis,   i'm   a   very   sore   loser.   "

"it's the off season, i've been enjoying it..." she says, sizing him up a bit more, before she scoffs, "i don't know, it's been — stressful. you know how wedding planning can be." she is completely incapable of just saying what she means, which is one of her biggest problems. eilis, as a rule, tries her very best to keep things in flux, out of the spotlight and into her private life. she doesn't say what she means, not really, not ever. if she can avoid it. her siblings are the only exceptions to the rule, and maybe — if he's lucky — beau could end up being one of them, too. not that she's optimistic, after this, but... well, "i'm sure you can handle it, i mean, could be worse. i do spend all my time around quarterbacks, so... i've developed a very good aim." she puncutates that by sinking the first bag directly into the hole.

                  these   were   the   nights   amara   missed   .   life   had   gotten   so   busy   ,   so   wrapped   up   in   work   and   weddings   and   everything   in   between   that   so   little   time   was   left   for   the   two   of   them   to   simply   be   sisters   .   she'd   been   determined   to   change   that   tonight   ,   clinging   to   eilis'   side   ,   a   near   spitting   image   of   the   way   they'd   been   as   kids   ⸺   two   peas   that   had   finally   found   their   way   back   to   their   pod   .   "   oh   my   god   .   .   .   mozzarella   sticks   ,   "   can   feel   her   pupils   dilating   ,   eyes   widening   at   the   mention   as   her   stomach   simultaneously   growls   with   an   overwhelming   agreement   .   "   okay   we   can   do   the   fried   pickles   but   i   want   those   little   pigs   in   a   blanket   things   too   .   .   .   i've   been   thinking   about   them   ever   since   we   got   here   and   i   swear   to   god   if   i   don't   have   one   in   the   next   five   minutes   i   might   just   burst   into   tears   ,   "   slightly   dramatic   ,   but   with   the   alcohol   in   her   system   ,   she   couldn't   confidently   say   she   was   kidding   .   "   are   we   too   old   for   shots   ?   this   seltzer   isn't   cutting   it   anymore   but   i'm   scared   that   taking   shots   over   the   age   of   thirty   is   socially   unacceptable   .   .   .   maybe   i   need   one   of   those   cutwaters   or   something   .   "

"no, like, exactly. that's perfect, let's get two mozzarella stick orders, though. i'm starving," once again, she knows it's against her nutritionist, and she's got a season coming up, but... god, she wants to eat whatever she can, now. before she's back to getting photographed at stuff like this, when the random middle-aged men of the world remembr the girl who reports on football exists, "we're too old for shots. let's do them anyways." she shakes her head dramatically, and waves at the little cocktail waiter that knows they're going to tip like crazy — two extremely drunk girls who love another diva to talk with always do, and she orders messily, getting them another round, shots and the appetizers. it's going to be awesome, "should we do this for my bachelorette? everyone has to sing in my honor and i can be the queen who judges the winner. or is that too bridezilla?"

august chuckles, shaking his head while continuing to dry his hair. " come on, you placed in my heart. " his tone is teasing, though lighthearted while slinging the towel over his shoulder. " nah man, it's a valid question ! i feel like i've been slacking on my protein maxxing, as my sister puts it. " august's brow lifts with a soft snort. " should we put in a complaint ? i'm sure the winner might've had something to do with the rigging. "

"the win in your heart doesn't sound like free stuff. unless you're buying drinks," he retorts, even though he knew that he probably wasn't going to win, and he couldn't blame them for choosing other people, but... well, he always had a little bit of hope, "protien maxxing sounds awful. i'm carb maxxing, like, 24/7. and we definitely should, i think it was totally rigged. and no towels? gotta be illegal."

"i'm proud of you," eilis intones, shaking her head about the whole thing. really — she hopes that they can work their way through the issue, and make everyone happy. she knows that won't be happening, though, because that's usually not how things go whenever bonnie is involved. she smiles anyways, hoping they do get... pinkie pie, "do you have rainbow dash, though? i always liked her the best." she laughs out loud at the frozen yogurt request, as if they weren't going to end up going there, anyways. eilis loved spending cheat days skulking around the "healthier" dessert places, pretending it didn't count, "i can totally cover whatever you want. you just can't get ten pounds of toppings, because i think the scale only goes up to ten, and i'm getting at least three pounds, myself." she shakes her head dramatically, and laughs, because — pinkie pie probably would've wanted this, "i needed to corner you about some sports tv stuff, anyways. i'm thinking of branching out of football sometime soon, and i thought — oh! bonnie's got a team."

”  .  .  .  okay  ,  let  me  ask  you  this  .  maybe  tmi ,  but  the  cards  are  saying  it  ,  not  me  .  "  silver  leans  forward  towards  them  ,  speaks  softly  ,  "  are  you  ,  like  .  .  .   gettin' it on ? got a ticket to pound town ? getting  cracked , as the kids say  ?  like  .  .  .  the  cards  are  saying  either  you're  having  really  good  sex these days , or  you're  about  to  .  "   she  finds  herself  intrigued  ,  hands  reaching  to  shuffle  the  deck  again  .  .  .  lord  knows  she  could  use  some  tlc  herself  .  " hm . very curious , indeed ! "

"that's... the opposite of what's going on for me, actually," she says, making a face, trying to decide if she should traumadump on silver, if it's allowed in things like this. really, she just wants to say some of it out loud — she hasn't even brought up her doubts to amara, and that was really, really crazy. so, she phrases it like a question, instead of a statement, "do they say anything about... if i should get married? or if i should call it off?"

jina can't help the grin that spreads, taking a sip of lemonade. " isn't it ? i got this once before and it's so good. i got ketchup, but it's even better the aioli. " she points at the condiment in question with her pinky and and dips the potato into it, taking a happy bite. " let's go it ! wait, i haven't had a corn dog in forever. we have to get one too. " she couldn't get enough of the street foods, though she'd have to work this off for the next week at pilates. " come on, we have plenty to do that's not eating before the party's over. "

"i'm a big corn dog fan. and hot dogs. dogs of all kinds, really," fitz says, stupid ass grin on his face. he's really just having a great time at these kinds of things, it's the way that they're kind of suited to his goofy ass demeanor in general. he's a clown happily at the clown show, "i'll get anything that's fried at this point, i think."

⭑    𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀    

"i'm going to need another drink before you get me up there singing paramore," eilis says with a grin, kind of wishing she hadn't imputed this is why into that kiosk about an hour prior. she's got to be in the next five performers. which is making her anxious, which means another drink is in the cards, "please! oh my god, let's get the appetizer platter. i want mozzarella sticks and fried pickles."

                    "   oh   don't   you   worry   babe   .   .   .   i   filmed   it   ,   "   bold   of   him   to   think   that   she   wouldn't   ,   was   never   one   to   pass   on   an   opportunity   to   embarrass   the   people   she   loved   .   "   and   you   better   hope   you   never   find   the   nerve   to   fuck   me   over   otherwise   it's   gonna   be   all   over   the   internet   for   the   rest   of   your   natural   life   and   then   some   ,   "   she   smiles   like   that   wasn't   a   threat   he   should   be   weary   of   ,   bringing   a   plastic   cup   still   halfway   full   of   frozen   margarita   to   her   lips   for   a   sip   .   "   it   wouldn't   be   all   bad   though   ,   if   you   went   viral   i'd   have   a   reason   to   have   you   on   my   show   so   people   can   see   how   fucking   annoying   you   are   when   you're   drunk   ,   “   shoulders   lift   to   a   shrug   ,   wouldn't   be   all   bad   ,   at   least   not   for   her   .   “   fuck   ,   ”   laugh   has   already   slipped   from   her   mouth   before   she   can   even   get   the   beginnings   of   her   thought   out   ,   ”   remember   when   people   would   get   to   go   on   talk   shows   for   going   viral   on   vine   or   something   ⸺   like   ,   what   ever   happened   to   alex   from   target   ,   do   you   think   he   works   a   desk   job   now   and   uses   his   trip   to   ellen   as   his   icebreaker   fun   fact   ,   "   god   ,   what   a   fall   from   grace   . 

"i-" he probably should've been paying more attention to what was going on off the stage, but who could blame him? he was getting pelted with water right out of a hose, and there was about ten other guys up there having the same thing happen. forgive him that he didn't know what was going on past his direct field of vision, "i can't believe you! delete it!" he pauses, for a second, "but let me watch first? i want to see the evidence of their crimes against me, rigging the whole competition." he shakes his head overdramatically, still getting a few droplets all over her, although not near as much as he would've earlier in the night. "fuck, i don't want to be the next alex from target, that sounds horrific," he makes a groaning noise, puts his head down on the table in front of him. he needs another drink, stat, "not nearly as bad as damn daniel, i think. but still kind of a terrible existence. can you imagine that's your new job fun fact — i was back at it again with the white vans?"

                     still   ,   he   remained   on   edge   ,   uncertain   whether   eilis   knew   what   he   knew.   whether   amara   had   already   told   her.   whether   amara   would   prefer   to   share   it   herself   ,   in   private   ,   away   from   prying   eyes   and   backyard   games.   relax   ,   he   ordered   himself.   easier   said   than   done.   he   managed   a   laugh   as   he   reached   for   the   purple   bean   bag   ,   weighing   it   in   his   hand.   "   i   do   ,   "   he   said   ,   “   but   i   reckon   there   isn't   much   skill   to   cornhole.   mostly   luck.   ”   a   blatant   lie.   beau   was   abysmal   at   the   game   ,   and   downplaying   it   was   simply   how   he   coped.   “   darlin'   ,   i   don't   think   i'll   have   to   let   you   win.   ”   he   rolled   his   shoulders   ,   a   teasing   smile   tugging   at   the   corner   of   his   mouth.   "   should   be   a   fair   fight   ,   no   ?   "

"sure, a fair fight," eilis agrees, shaking her head and actually cracking a smile this time. he's kind of sweating. the thing is, she's not sure that he knows that she knows about the elopement. she wants to keep him on his toes as long as possible, maybe she's just... kind of an asshole, but. "red or blue?" she asks, picking up the bean bags and sizing up the playing field, "how have you been, beau? all good, i hope?" the small talk is all bullshit, but she'll wait and see who breaks first.

"yeah, they gotta be somewhere," the dog thing is — that probably shouldn't work for him. it does, but it probably shouldn't. he's just standing there, smiling at her like an idiot, and he's completely forgotten his whole embarrassing loss in an instant... but he reminds himself pretty quickly, "oh, but i don't know if i'm in the mood for asking nicely. especially after that loss, damn. i'm going to have to disappear for a while." not really. he's got shifts this weekend, and he needs the cash now that his home is kind of... like, gone. and the rent is ridiculous, "at least you get something nice to look at, huh?"

"no, bonnie, that's not!" things escalate so fast that eilis isn't entirely sure that she's supposed to be intervening. like, is this really her responsibility? she cannot fathom caring about cartoon horses like this, but... well, if she'd spent $400 and an elderly fucker in ugly shoes took the last piece of it? maybe she does understand, "fine. i'll hold your purse. why don't we just offer to pay him for it, like, i feel like every man has a price?" and it isn't like the two of them don't ahve the cash to back it, "violence just doesn't seem to be the answer, uh, this time?" if he does not give it to them, she's sure that is where this is going.

               ★    there's   a   softness   to   his   eyes   that   isn't   usually   there   and   the   faintest   of   smiles   on   his   face   as   he   runs   his   hand   along   the   shoulder   blade   of   the   bull   —   affectionately   named   venom   the   day   he   showed   up   to   the   ranch   as   a   calf   .   leon's   inside   the   bull   pen   ,   free   of   the   fear   and   inhibitions   that   should   be   telling   him   to   stay   on   the   other   side   of   the   fence   .   “   if   anyone's   in   danger   here   ,   it's   me   .   ”   he   says   ,   head   turning   towards   the   person   standing   an   amusing   distance   away   from   the   pen   .   “   you   can   even   pet   him   ,   just   .   .   .   make   sure   he   can   see   me   when   you   do   .   ”

"that doesn't exactly make me feel better!" in fact, eilis had been worried mostly about his safety, not hers. she had placed plenty of space between her and the bull, and didn't plan on getting closer. the whole thing scared her enough, and she already wasn't on good terms with horses, so... "are you sure. he doesn't seem very, uh... happy? relaxed? i don't know, he seems pissed."

water clings to august's skin, a bit chilly as the sun begins to set. " i can't believe i let you talk me into that. " there's no malice in his tone, instead a slightly goofy grin spreading on the firefighter's features. shirt clings to his frame, soaked through and through, picking up a nearby towel to help rid himself of some of the wetness still lingering on his skin. " i got second place so i guess it's not too bad, right ? do you think i should've hit the gym a little harder ? " his gaze shifts. " be honest. "

"and i didn't even place!" fitz throws his hands up, somehow still sopping wet and slinging water all over the place, droplets flying into other people in their vicinity without him even noticing, "no, you're good. like, super good. what the fuck kind of question is that?" he looks the other man up and down, "but i'm not that bad! this thing has to be rigged."