#frankie;ask

[ofmourningdoves]

On the Buchanan front porch, there's a box with a card that says 'from Ken'. Inside the box, there's a handful of chocolate-filled sweet crust buns. The card reads: Enjoy! There are FIVE buns in this box. Make sure Frankie only has ONE. Love you brother

A loud clattering of pots and pans from behind the Buchanan's door is heard before Frankie is tumbling out of the home, a smear of peanut butter clean across his cheek. His eyes glance down....and a wide smile stretches across his features as he bends to grab them. From Ken! He already knows what they are, a handful of sweet crust buns. If he had it his way, those delicious, flaky buns would all be his, his stomach swelled up three sizes too big like a cartoon character swallowing a watermelon whole. But that capitalized ONE sure leaves a lot to be desired, Frankie pouting to himself for a moment before he picks up one from inside the box, sticking it square into his mouth as he turns to head back inside, before --

The edge of that rug sure comes out of nowhere, doesn't it? Frankie stumbles on the fraying carpet, the box dropping, and sweet crust buns rolling out onto the floor. His eyes widen, mouth still full of bun. How does this always happen to him?! He squats down, ready to pick them up -- but, Biscuit comes barreling through the opened doorway in all his slobbering glory, his comically large paws squishing three of the sweet crust buns in his wake. He body checks Frankie in his war path, the boy falling square onto his ass.

SQUISH.

The final bun...gone to a WWE butt drag. Frankie sighs. At least Frankie only got one, right? It's what Ken would have wanted.

[ofmourningdoves]

Outside the Buchanan residence, Josie stands frozen. She should just leave the box. Set it down on the porch like she always did, and just walk away! But—no, she should knock. She wanted to knock. God, wait, what if Huck answered? That’d be fine, right? He’d just call for Tanny. It wouldn’t be weird. Even though… well, these weren’t for Tanny.

Tanny already got her chocolates, bright and early, first thing. Josie looks down at the heart-shaped cookies in her trembling hands. These were different. And okay, maybe she had always been a coward, dropping off sweets before she gets caught, but she can do this. She can.

She can give Frankie the cookies. He’d just think they were just "thanks for helping me into my house" cookies and not "you’ve got nice eyes and you make me laugh" cookies. He’d smile big and say something like “Shucks, thanks!”, and she’d go home and scream into her pillow. Totally normal. Deep breath.

Her knuckles tap the door before she could change her mind.

“Finn?” she calls, voice catching just slightly as the door cracks open. “H-.. Happy Heart Day!”

Was that a knock on the door?

Shoot, he's not completely done in the kitchen -- clad in an apron covered in peanut butter and chocolate stains that look only moderately suspicious, the cellophane bags of his usual scotcheroos half finished on the countertop. With a wipe of his hands, Frankie's fluttering to the door, about as frazzled as a housewife as he starts to pry it open...only to slam it shut. Oh, wait!

It's Josie!

"Wait, I'm so sorry!" Frankie immediately apologizes, a nervous chuckle on his lips. "Just one second!" And he turns on his heel before making a mad dash to the kitchen, his apron floating behind him. It's speedy, the way he tosses a handful of scotcheroos in one of the cellophane bags before tying it off with a piece of ribbon. Ina Garten would be so proud of him. Now all he's missing is...there!

A stuffed, yellow bear sits on the table with Fred and Kenny's presents, right in the middle of the pair. A brown vest covers its fluffy back, and a floppy hat with a sunflower tacked onto the front, ala the titular character from Blossom, dons its heavily stuffed head. Frankie grabs it quick before he's running back to the entrance, red cheeked and wild eyed.

The door swings open, sweet treats and an even sweeter bear in hand, Frankie greeting Josie with a smile...before he gasps in sheer delight when he spots the array of cookies in her hands -- of course she knows hearts are his favorite shape.

"Happy Heart Day!" Frankie says in a breathless laugh, flinging an arm around her, careful not to smush either treat. "Are those all for me?" He extends the bear and scotcheroos in hand, grinning from ear to ear.

"I have somethin' for you, too. It's small, but...y'know. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate ya, JoJo."

[ofmourningdoves]

A single knock and outside the Buchanan house is left a plate of bright green squares of white chocolate matcha fudge, drizzled with stripes of white chocolate, all stacked in an attractive looking tower. A simple note rests beneath the plate written in a neat but scrawling hand: To Sobakasu & Tantanmen.

"I'll get it, Mama, don't worry!" Frankie calls out, his boots making a loud thud with each step he barrels on downstairs -- more for his own peace of mind than hers. Yesterday wasn't the easiest day for her, health-wise, but he knows she's stubborn enough to try to get out of bed after he gave strict orders for her to stay put.

He's out of breath by the time he's at the door, mentally chastising himself for not being in better shape as he yanks it open. He's delighted at the sight of an intricate looking tower of treats, picking up the plate. A turn one way, then one other way to assess the pretty pieces of fudge. A work of art in its own right.

Freckled fingers are quick to open the note. Hiro. For him and Tanny. His smile widens as he takes the treats inside, the door shutting behind him. Well, he's gotta one up this pretty plate of treats. His usual scotcheroos won't cut it, clearly. His eyes glance up in thought before a lightbulb clicks on above his head. Figuratively and literally -- his mom just entered the living room. Frankie spins, almost semi-graceful, to look at her, fluffy robe and all, a smile ear to ear on his lips.

"Can I invite a friend over for dinner tonight? I'm makin' chicken and waffles."

@wldngmn

[ofmourningdoves]

There’s a package left on the front porch of the Buchanan residence—a small cardboard box that once held trinkets for the front counter of T&T. It has been entirely scribbled over with sloppy but colorful drawings of Thorgy and Gorgy slaying beasts, knocking back pints, and… kissing? Full-blown makeout with tongue.

Inside, there are two separate plastic baggies with brownies—one labeled NORMAL and one labeled SPECIAL. Attached with tape is a note:

happy heart day, frank! love you lots <3

P.S. please read the labels :^)

Frankie would never pick favorites when it came to Heart of Confections day...but, gun to his head? It'd have to be the classic Freddie delivery. What? It's for no particular reason, he swears! Can't he just love one of his dearest, oldest friends who gives him something a little extra special?

He steps out of his home, a wide smile on his lips when he spots the telltale signs of Freddie's work, picking it up quick and sitting on the porch swing. Frankie takes a moment to admire her handiwork -- excuse him, her artwork, which looks to be Thorgy and Gorgy's latest exploration of each other's bodies. Beautiful, a masterclass in color theory, with the juxtaposition of Thorgy's fiery red hair to the royal blue of Gorgonzola's cloak...whatever could be said about color. He's not entirely sure, but he likes it. He'll ask Tanny for the better way to word it later.

The box is carefully preserved, Frankie careful not to tear it until he gets to the Goods -- that plastic baggie marked "special". He sets the rest aside, a little grin on his face as he absolutely rips in, yanking out one of the brownies and polishing off half in one bite.

The rest of the afternoon is spent on Frankie's bedroom floor, blue eyes tinged red as he watches the swirl of his ceiling fan, little particles of dust visible from rays of light drifting from his window swirling around from the force of the blades, with a certain kind of enthusiasm that only someone completely blitzed out of their mind could muster.