#'hey thursday is thanksgiving and would be the perfect time to pause so we can (((get peoples money))) out of them

[snekdood]

so uh

for 1. most people are gonna take advantage of black friday and wont see your specific niche tumblr post, I hate to say it

2. the us isnt running out of money for war any time soon, so...

3. this is just antisemitism???????? all we need is some (((echoes))) around the us and israel and then I'd have no reason to suspect otherwise from op...............

[alecmagnuslwb]

Rent a Holidate

Read on AO3

Magnus is barely paying attention as his father blathers on about his annual Thanksgiving party. It’s the same as every year, food made by an overpaid chef, schmoosing clients and Magnus being expected to attend and behave.

They don’t even really celebrate Thanksgiving and it’s definitely not about family coming together to be thankful for the things they have and the love they share, it’s a way for his father to impress his clients with the size of his house and the happy little family picture that he, whoever his latest wife is and Magnus make. It’s a fake night, filled with fake rich people that Magnus loathes more and more every single year.

There’s a pause on his fathers end of the line and Magnus scrambles assuming he was asked some sort of question.

“Yes, of course,” he says hoping that’s the right answer. Evidently it’s neutral considering his father’s monotonous response.

“Fine then, I hope that he or she will be an acceptable date for the evening,” his father says. Oh shit, he thinks, did I just agree to bring a date to this thing?

For a moment he considers backtracking saying he won’t be bringing anyone, it’s not like he’s been on so much as a half decent date in over a year, but he knows his father, once you’ve said something you act on it, no turning back. So instead he grits his teeth and accepts he’ll be bullshitting his way through an emergency excuse to why his fake partner couldn’t attend the night of.

“He is very acceptable,” Magnus says faux cheery conjuring up a fake boyfriend in his head. Not that any partner of his could be deemed acceptable by his father, his father even finds his own career path teaching English at NYU to be an underperformance.

“It’s not Columbia,” he always says whenever Magnus talks about his work.

“Well, then I look forward to meeting him,” his father says not at all sounding like he’s looking forward to it. Which is good considering Magnus’ supposed boyfriend is a complete fabrication. “I’ll see you in a week.”

And just like that he hangs up, no goodbye, nothing.

Magnus sighs tossing his phone into the graded paper box on his desk and begins crafting a personality and profession for his fake boyfriend just in case he needs a more solid alibi.

***

Magnus laments his woes to Dot and Catarina later that night, it’s Thursday which means mimosas and movies.

“Part of me just wants to make up an excuse and be done with it, it’s not like he’ll even remember in a week’s time after the fact that I ever even had a supposed boyfriend,” Magnus says pausing to take a sip of his mimosa. “The other part of me just wants to bring the world’s worst date and embarrass him to no end.”

“You mean Camille wasn’t the world’s worst date?” Dot says curling up in the chair beside Cat with her own mimosa in hand.

“Camille was the world’s worst date, but she never was one to make a scene, she was quietly and privately terrible,” Magnus says moving quickly past the topic of his wicked ex. “I mean someone who’s not a bad person, just kind of a mess.”

“Why don’t you hire the guy Dot hired last year for her family reunion?” Cat says not even bothering to look up from her phone as she scrolls reading reviews for the movie they’re about to watch.

“Yeah he was great,” Dot says agreeing with Cat’s suggestion. “His names Alec. He can’t play straight to save his life which made it even better because my whole family was convinced I was not only dating a worthless degenerate, but a worthless degenerate gay man. Hilarious, honestly.”

She pulls up something on her phone and hands it to Magnus. It’s a Craigslist ad titled, Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? Tired of your family’s absurd expectations?

He takes the phone reading the post entirely.

My name is Alec Lightwood, I’m a 28 year old almost felon who went to college for three weeks before dropping out. I have a Thunderbird that’s only a year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen’s red guitar. It’s hideous and embarrassing and I love it. I can play anywhere between the ages of 23 to 32 depending on if I shave. I’m a bartender and occasional bouncer when the need requires, I haven’t been seen not in a leather jacket with a tear in the back since high school, I’m gay and very bad at hiding it and I’ve even got an eyebrow scar that’s sure to raise a few eyebrows (get it, raise a few eyebrows).

If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for a gathering of some sort, but have me pretend to be in a very serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things at your request:

-        Openly hit on other guests while you act like you don’t notice (of any gender, I may be gay but I can embarrassingly hit on anyone even if it’s not convincing).

 -        Start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion (sports are off the table however unless your family are big into the Rangers or Islanders, then I can talk shit for days.)

 -        Propose to you in front of everyone and you tearily accept or you turn me down and I proceed to have a breakdown, but we resolve to work on our relationship much to your family’s chagrin.

 -        Pretend to be increasingly drunk as the evening goes on (sorry, I don’t actually drink anymore, but I used to. A lot. Too much in fact. I know the drill.)

 -        Start a screaming match with a family member, that could come to blows (but no one will be physically harmed, I promise) either inside or on the front lawn (if there is one) for all the neighbors to see.

I require no pay but the free food I will receive as a guest at any event!

We can meet prior to the event somewhere public and you can ask me any questions. And I mean any questions so that you feel safe.

-        Do NOT contact with unsolicited services or offers. Email me at: lightwoodarcher@gmail.com

“Um, he’s a felon?” Magnus says looking up from the phone when he’s done.

“Hey, don’t judge, you’re not exactly rap sheet free,” Dot says scolding him with a smile. Which okay, he does have a few arrests on his record, petty little things and pick-ups at a protest or two, but felonies are a bit above that. He says that aloud. “Also, as it says he’s technically an almost felon.”

“He’s not a murderer or anything, I had Raphael check out his history before I requested his services,” Dot continues on to explain, referring to their friend who’s a prosecutor. “He got picked up for aggravated assault after he caught the guy who got his sister hooked on drugs in her bed shooting her up, it was a bullshit charge from a snake of a man who deserved every hit he got. The charges were ultimately dropped and settled when the piece of shit he beat up got hit with about ten felonies himself. He’s a good guy, like a really good guy I promise.”

“Didn’t Raphael even stress that he never would have convicted Alec in a million years on the charges?” Cat says getting up from her seat and heading to the kitchen to refill her mimosa glass.

Dot nods taking a sip of her drink. “He did, he said any jury would have sided with him over the 30 year old drug pusher preying on an 18 year old girl. And even though we can’t tell him, because we don’t want him to smirk about it all the time and get a big head, we both know Raphael is the best judge of character and lawyer in America.”

It’s true, Raphael always knows what he’s talking about.

“Plus,” Dot continues on. “Alec’s very upfront about it, I didn’t even need to do the background check he told me exactly what went down when we met for coffee before the event, even brought his sister along to corroborate and make me feel comfortable.”

“Wow,” Magnus says genuinely surprised by the decency of a man on the internet.

“Also, he’s very cute,” Dot smirks over the rim of her glass waggling her eyebrows in Magnus’ direction.

Magnus rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it matters if my fake date is cute.”

“So you’re gonna do it?” Catarina says coming back in the room, a pitcher filled to the brim with mimosa mix in her hand.

Magnus bites his lip in thought as he looks down at the phone in his hand again. He does want to cause a ruckus, he’s tired of being the perfect little son when his father needs him to be. And Alec Lightwood might just be able to provide the exact ruckus he’s looking for.

“What the hell,” he mutters before tossing Dot’s phone to her. “Do I need to email him, or do you still have his number?”

Dot smiles in delight as she taps on her phone his own phone buzzing in his pocket a second later with Alec’s number.

***

Alec keeps his text exchanges simple, offering to meet Magnus the following afternoon after Magnus’ noon class for coffee. Alec lets Magnus choose everything, clearly dedicated to making the person contacting him as comfortable as possible. Luckily for Magnus Alec’s had no inquiries for this Thanksgiving, except for one that was definitely unsavory and he turned down immediately.

With such short notice Magnus thought for sure this might not work out.

He walks in scanning the shop looking for Alec and comes up empty based on Dot’s description of him. He gets in line and orders a drink finding a table off to the side where it’s not too crowded to sit and wait. He’s barely settled into his seat when the chime above the door rings and in walks a stunner with long legs and dark hair.

The man pauses scanning the room, then his eyes land on Magnus his lips tilt up just a bit and he walks over his way.

“Magnus Bane?” he says in question when he reaches the table. Magnus is speechless for a moment as the sun catches in the man’s hazel eyes and on the tiny silver hoops in his ears. He shakes himself from the trance he’s in, ignoring the way his eyes shine a little greener when he tilts his head and nods his own head in confirmation.

“Alec Lightwood?”

“That’s me,” the man says with a smile that crinkles at the edges just a bit, he reaches out a hand that Magnus takes shaking it instantly enjoying the contrast of Alec’s cold fingers to his warm ones. Magnus squeezes his hand once before letting go. “I’m just gonna go get a drink and then we can talk,” Alec says stepping back with a tentative, but dazzling smile.

Magnus watches him go enjoying the view of his long legs in motion. He spots the tear in the back of his leather jacket, just like mentioned in his ad, and smiles. Alec comes back moments later a mug of black coffee in hang.

“So you need a bad date for Thanksgiving,” he says tearing open an obscene amount of sugar packets and pouring them into his mug. “I’m guessing before we get into that though, you want to know about the almost felony?”

Magnus shakes his head and Alec looks at him quizzically for a moment, before the puzzle pieces in his mind clearly fall into place.

“Dot,” he says in understanding. “She must have told you everything.”

“She did,” Magnus confirms taking a sip of his drink. “And for the record it sounds like you were in the right.”

Alec smiles a small uncertain smile almost like he’s not sure that’s the truth, but takes the words as a compliment anyways.

“It wasn’t my finest moment, I guess I’m just overprotective when it comes to people I love,” he says running his fingers along the rim of his mug.

“Getting a drug predator away from your sister isn’t just being overprotective, it’s doing the right thing,” he says genuine. He remembers when they were in high school and Raphael had his run with a bad crowd, it never came to it, but he would have done the same thing Alec did if the situation had presented itself.

Alec just shrugs looking off to the side. Magnus sees the uncomfortable set in his shoulders and shifts the conversation.

“You come highly recommended, Dot says you put on one hell of a show at her family reunion,” he says with a bright smile.

Alec’s shoulders ease and he turns back to Magnus with a smile.

“Dot barely needed me, she put on a performance just as stunning, I’ve never seen a woman so small body tackle so many people during what’s supposed to be a friendly game of tag,” he says with a chuckle.

Magnus has heard all about Dot’s deadly game and seen the bruises she proudly displayed from her somewhat violent performance first hand.

“Believe me it’s not the first time she’s tackled down a full-grown man,” Magnus says with a laugh fondly remembering a frat party, an unsuspecting frat boy and a fateful game of beer pong from many years ago.

“Somehow that does not surprise me,” Alec says rubbing a hand across his dark beard. The conversation shifts from there, Magnus giving Alec the full rundown about his father, his current stepmother and the all too haughty evening they’ll be subjected to.

Conversation flows easy between them, Alec seeming to understand a lot of Magnus’ struggles with his family life and Magnus finds himself wondering if there’s more to why he does this bit of charity for people in need.

“So, why exactly is it you do this?” Magnus asks, clarifying quickly when Alec raises his eyebrow in question. They’ve covered the felony yes and it’s clear that Alec just simply cares, but that’s not a full reason why. “I mean I believe that you’re just a genuinely good person who wants to help people, but it’s deeper than that isn’t it?”

Alec pauses for a moment rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Magnus is about to tell him he doesn’t have to explain if it’s an uncomfortable topic just as Alec starts to talk.

“I’m gay,” he says and Magnus smirks, the obviously on the tip of his tongue. Alec picks up on it smiling back. “Obviously, but for a long time I couldn’t be, or at least not at home. My parents are kind of rich, they’d do these big to do holiday parties every year for Thanksgiving and Christmas. When my siblings and I were little they were just big boring adult parties that we’d steal food from. Then we all got old enough to date and to have plans for the future.”

Magnus hums in understanding. That’s how his father’s parties had been, one day he was a kid just stealing cookies and hating the droll grown ups and the next he was a man expected to present himself in certain ways, ways that weren’t remotely who he was.

“By the time I was 21 I was still in the closet, and already on their shit list for dropping out of college, and I never dated and my parents were just determined to find me a wife. Every year it was so and so’s daughter is lovely and has such a strong education or so and so’s daughter is coming and I can’t wait for you to meet her,” he says twisting the coffee mug between his hands. “I’m pretty sure those holiday parties are how my drinking got so bad, forced heterosexuality and an open bar do not mix well together.”

He chuckles and Magnus takes that as an invitation to do the same. Again he gets it, he’s taken his fair advantage of the open bar at his father’s parties many times.

“And then one year my dad was going on about some girl who was at Thanksgiving dinner, I don’t even remember her name, but she was standing there and the whole time he’s talking about how she’s so pretty and so ready to start a family and I should make a move before someone else did. And I was losing my mind internally and evidently I’d had just enough to drink that I just screamed at the top of my lungs that I was gay.”

He pauses taking the last sip of his coffee.

“And then I just left after my mom was trying to talk to me about causing a scene. Then Christmas rolls around and to my extreme shock I get the invite. I thought for sure I was in for the lecture I’d been avoiding for a month, but instead they just acted like Thanksgiving hadn’t even happened,” he shakes his head. “They invited some other poor girl to try and marry me off to and just went on like I hadn’t had a big, gay outburst. My outburst was a lot bigger that time, after that I didn’t get any more party invites, they just cut me out entirely.”

Magnus reaches out resting his hand on Alec’s that’s drumming on the table. “I’m so sorry, Alexander,” he says trying out the full name for the first time guessing that’s what Alec is short for. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue and judging from the way Alec doesn’t correct him he ventures he got it right.

Alec just shrugs with a sad little smile on his lips. “It’s okay,” he says. “I mean it wasn’t back then, but I’m okay now. I don’t need my parents or their money, my siblings are still in my life and I’ve got a whole life outside of that. I can have my gay outbursts in peace now.”

Magnus laughs squeezing his hand once before pulling back, he’s been resting it there much too long now.

They talk logistics after that, establishing a plan for the holiday dinner. Alec immediately offers to bring his Thunderbird to drive to Magnus’ father’s place upstate.

“I don’t have the car not to be embarrassing about it,” he says and Magnus smiles insisting he pays for the gas then.

He spends almost three hours and four coffees with Alec and eventually finds they’re not even talking about the dinner in question, but they’re just talking instead.

It’s an unexpected development.

***

Coffee with Alec goes all too well and by the end of it they have a carefully cultivated story about how they met and how long they’ve supposedly been together all set in stone. Alec ensures him he’ll be the ultimate, best bad boyfriend for the night, and frankly Magnus is having a hard time believing it.

Alec is sweet, kind without even realizing it and looks like the living embodiment of tall, dark and handsome. If Magnus is being honest he’d love to take him out sometime as a real date more than a bad boyfriend for the night.

He calls Dot after they’ve said their goodbyes, walking to his apartment not far from the coffee shop.

“So how’d it go?” Dot asks immediately upon answering the phone.

“He’s incredibly charming without trying to be and cute is a fucking understatement, Dorothea,” he says looking both ways before crossing to the other side of the street.

Dot chuckles wildly on the other side.

“I’m serious, if I was given the opportunity to craft a man based on looks alone I’m pretty sure he’d be what I’d create, he’s gorgeous,” Magnus says as he reaches his building going inside and heading for the elevator.

“I may have undersold him slightly,” Dot says sounding all too innocent.

“And was there a reason for that, my dear?” he says. He’s starting to feel like he’s being set up.

“Perhaps,” she says and he can hear the gleeful smile in her voice. “You can thank me later, for now just enjoy your bad boyfriend.”

***

Five days later on the last Thursday of the month, Magnus waits outside of his apartment for Alec and at three o’clock on the dot Alec’s truly ridiculous car pulls up. It’s even better in person than he described.

The black, red and white lines are exactly like Eddie Van Halen’s infamous guitar and the ’93 Thunderbird is just on the right side of beat up. The left taillight is busted, covered in see through tape and there’s a sizeable dent in the passenger side door.

Alec steps out of the car, a vision in his signature leather jacket, black jeans with far too many tears and dark eyeliner around his eyes. It’s not neat like Magnus’ though, it’s messy. His whole look from his disheveled, but neat hair, to his trimmed beard to his scuffed boots is just on the right side of acceptable, but screams of a wild side as well.

Magnus isn’t as black tie as he knows his father would like him to be, wearing a deep red shirt and tight pants with a line down the side, his perfectly styled hair, curly and soft with matching red streaks running through it. They make a pretty attractive pair if Magnus does say so himself.

Magnus can’t wait to see how the evening plays out.

Alec smiles at him coming over to open the passenger side door, it takes a couple tugs to get it open.

“It’s a little finicky,” he says playfully bowing and gesturing for Magnus to get inside. “Your chariot awaits.”

Magnus smiles stepping into the car. Alec shuts the door tight rounding the car and falling into his seat.

“Ready to cause a scene?” Alec says with a devilish smile that Magnus finds hard to resist.

“Absolutely,” he says with his own answering smile as Alec turns the key and peels out onto the road.

***

The ride up takes about two hours all told with holiday traffic and every minute of it is delightful. Alec tells him more about himself, outside of the surface stuff they’d covered to make sure Magnus was comfortable with this whole night.

He learns Alec loves archery, has an affinity for trash shows like the Bachelor and has a vicious little cat he adores named Church. Magnus gives his own tidbits in return about his work at the university and his love of bad horror movies, laughing when Alec suggests their fiendish cats might just get along.

Magnus laughs just as they pull up outside of his father’s home, “Chairman doesn’t exactly play well with others.”

Alec shrugs. “Neither does Church, that’s why it’d be fun,” he says with a smile pulling his eyes away from Magnus looking up at the sprawling house before them. He slows the car to a stop pulling into a spot that makes the car perfectly visible from the wall of windows that line the living room where all the guests won’t be able to miss it.

“Damn,” Alec says as he steps out of the car, Magnus joins him where he’s leaning back against the front of his Thunderbird. His car looks amazingly out of place and perfectly hilarious parked between a silver Porsche and a sleek black Lamborghini. “Your father’s in real estate you said?”

“Amongst other things,” Magnus grumbles looking at the house that was always too big, that always felt hollow and empty to Magnus when they moved here after his mother skipped town.

“It’s way too big,” Alec says with a grimace looking it over one last time before offering his arm to Magnus. Magnus takes it guiding him to the front door. “And there’s way too many fucking windows.”

Magnus chuckles as they reach the door opening it automatically and walking in. The space is gaudier than the last time he was there, the walls where once his father and stepmother number four’s portraits used to hang now feature the latest wife and sadly the one of him that his father had commissioned years ago. It’s the last time he’d agreed to sit for one of his gaudy paintings, he’s young, barely 20 wearing a stiff suit and barely any makeup, he doesn’t look like him at all.

“Well that’s a painting,” Alec says looking at it. “I like this you better,” he says eyeing Magnus up and down. Whether he meant to or not there’s a lingering in the look, Magnus likes it. “That looks like somebody trying to be something they’re not.”

And just like that with one look at a painting, Alec nails him right on the head. Like he can read Magnus easily, a thing that just about no one can do.

“Come on,” Magnus says pulling Alec along down the garish hallway that leads to the large expanse of the living room. There’s a new chandelier hanging in the hall, riddled in way too many gems. He bets it’s a feature added by the new wife.

“Maggie!” a woman’s voice yells, speak of the devil, he rolls his eyes at the nickname no matter how many times he’s told her to drop it she just won’t. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

His stepmother comes bouncing over their way, her ridiculously high heels clacking against the hardwood floor. He can hear his father sigh from the other side of the room, more concerned with his precious oak floors than anything else in the world.

Magnus braces himself as she barrels into him hugging him tight, she releases him with a smile before turning to Alec and doing the same.

Alec’s eyes go wide in surprise, no matter how much Magnus described her to him there’s no preparing for hurricane Marissa. She pulls back adjusting her very not appropriate for the setting tight pink and black strapless dress with a smile, her fake tan looks a little lighter than usual and he’s weirdly proud of her for that.

“And who is this?” she asks reaching out to adjust Magnus’ shirt collar that she crumpled when hugging him.

“This is my boyfriend, Alec,” he says gesturing his way. “Alec this is my father’s wife, Marissa.”

Marissa playfully pats Magnus’ cheek, “Stepmother.” She says it pointedly holding out a hand to quickly shake Alec’s. He will never refer to her as his stepmother out loud, much like the past four wives Magnus bets Marissa will be gone in five years’ time tops, his own mother hadn’t even stuck around that long. Also, she’s 25, five years younger than him, and there’s no way he’s referring to her as anything remotely close to a mother.

“It’s lovely to have you in our home,” Marissa says to Alec gesturing to the room at large. Magnus looks around at the room full of people, most of whom he doesn’t remotely recognize. A few seem somewhat familiar in the most unmemorable sense. He’s sure they’re constant clients and rich cohorts of his father’s that have attended before.

“That it is,” his father’s voice says coming up behind his wife. He rests one hand on her shoulder and holds out another Alec’s way. “Asmodeus Bane.”

“Alec Lightwood,” he says a perfect gentleman returning his father’s handshake. They’d agreed to keep it civil for at the least the first introduction and then let the evening escalate from there. Magnus can tell just from looking at it his father’s grip is tight, commanding and borderline threatening, but Alec doesn’t even flinch.

“Lightwood, hm?” his father says eyeing Alec up and down frowning and Magnus can tell he already disapproves of what he sees. “Any relation to the Lightwood Consulting company?”

“Yes,” Alec says and Magnus smiles when he sees his father’s lips uptick in an impressed smile that immediately falls at Alec’s next words. “But they cut me out and off years ago, I’m the black sheep of the family if you will.”

Asmodeus just hums disappointed. “Well, that’s a shame,” he says. “So, how did you meet my son?” he asks not bothering with anymore small talk now that he’s already decided Alec’s no good, just jumping right in to the things he can criticize.

“Prison,” Alec jokes and Marissa titters delightfully. She quickly stops when Asmodeus looks at her disappointedly. “Just kidding,” he says. “I did my time there years ago, no we met at a bar.”

Asmodeus bristles at the prison mention, which is technically a lie, Alec only spent a few hours in a cell back when he was arrested, but his father clearly buys it as more. Magnus can tell he’s tuning out the rest of their crafted meet cute story, all about how three months ago Alec had a few too many drinks and almost got into a fight and Magnus had been his stalwart knight in shining armor.

“Love at first sight,” Marissa sighs clearly enjoying their made up tale. “Isn’t it sweet, Asmody?” she coos tugging on his father’s arm.

“Yes, quite sweet,” Asmodeus grimaces gripping his wife’s arm and pulling her away. “We’ll talk later.” He says looking directly at Magnus, essentially and completely dismissing Alec’s presence all together before stepping away. Marissa grins wide waving at them as she goes her long pink acrylic nails clicking together as she does so. Marissa may not be the brightest or subtlest bulb, but at least unlike many of Asmodeus’ past wives she’s nice enough.

“Well damn, do I even need to do anything else? He seems disappointed enough already,” Alec says shaking his head in disbelief.

“Now, where would the fun in that be,” Magnus says with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket. Alec follows suit and Magnus admires the view of his arms in a short sleeved well-fitting white button up shirt. His love of archery has made for some nicely toned muscle.

***

They mingle for a bit after Magnus deposits their coats in one of the coat closets, Magnus putting on his best son of the year smile while Alec downs glasses of water that everyone thinks is vodka at a fairly speedy rate.

It’d been his first task when they’d rejoined the party walking over to the bar with a smile.

“I need you to fill a bottle or two of vodka with water and keep serving me all night,” he said to the bored and disgruntled looking woman behind the counter. The rest of the hired help for the night must have been sequestered away in the kitchen until dinner judging by her being the first one that Magnus had spotted.

“You planning something weird tonight?” she questioned sliding Magnus a glass of red wine.

“Not weird, just disruptive,” Alec said so kind and so believable that the girl perked up.

“Well I love to see rich people who call me barkeep unironically disrupted, so you got it,” she said with a smile discreetly pouring out a bottle and refilling it with water before handing a glass to Alec as he dumped a sizeable wad of cash into her completely empty tip jar. God, rich people were cheap.

She’s been steadily serving him since.

Now they find themselves with a man who has to be bordering on 200 years old and it seems Alec decides it’s time to truly get to work.

“All that glitters,” the old man says talking about something that they’ve clearly both been tuning out.

“Glitters?” Alec says a little too loud, just enough so that everyone in their vicinity can hear. “You mean the place on 5th? My ex used to dance there, maybe you saw him, man knew how to work a pole if you know what I mean?” he winks at the old man and Magnus just barely stifles his laughter as the old man steps back in shock. He mumbles something unintelligible looking suddenly ill and paler than he had before and slips away.

Alec tosses back his drink and hands it to a passing woman in a truly hideous pantsuit that is definitely not a server, dragging Magnus along to the table of appetizers. He tosses shrimp into his mouth not bothering with a napkin, rubbing his hands on his ripped-up jeans making direct eye contact with a young woman, no doubt another trophy wife, as he does so. She scrunches up her nose and steps away.

Evidently despite his fairly small work so far he’s made just enough of a scene to garner Asmodeus’ attention once again.

“So, Alec, I assume that colorful vehicle outside is yours?” he says walking up beside the two of them. Their bartender and conspirator comes up just then handing Alec a fresh glass.

Alec smiles at her, before turning to Asmodeus. He’s not acting drunk yet, but he’s bordering on behaving tipsy.

He slings an arm over Magnus’ shoulder and brings him in close. Magnus settles a hand at Alec’s waste enjoying the proximity.

“Yes, that is my sweet Cherry,” he says naming the car on the spot. “Won her in a poker game when I was 18, crashed her three days later and have been patching her back together ever since.”

“A poker game?” Asmodeus questions, clearly becoming more disappointed by the minute.

“Yup,” he says cheerfully popping the p in the word. “Well, I wouldn’t say won directly, more cheated a guy and then fought him for it,” he pauses gesturing to the little sliced scar that runs through his left eyebrow. “That’s how I got this.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many tire irons a high school principal is carrying around,” Alec continues with a snort tossing back half of his drink.

Magnus just nods along in agreement to Alec’s concocted tale. He actually bought the car from his sister’s ex-boyfriend when he was nineteen for 200 bucks, but this story shocks far more.

“You mean to say you fought your principal for your car?” Asmodeus says judgement so very clear in his voice.

“High school, am I right?” Alec shrugs with a chuckle smiling down into his drink. Asmodeus looks appalled.

“Oh, come on don’t look like that father,” Magnus says placing his free hand on Alec’s chest and patting there lightly. Magnus can’t help but notice how solid the chest under his hand is. “I got up to some trouble in high school myself, surely you remember.”

Asmodeus just hums, clearly finding Magnus’ occasional wild parties without permission a dull comparison to the tale Alec just told.

“Never forget the time I streaked and jumped from the guest house roof to the trampoline and right into the pool, nearly broke my arm in the process,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec leans over burying his face in Magnus’ hair, careful not to mess it up, whether it’s to play up the PDA or stifle a laugh Magnus isn’t sure.

They’d had a whole conversation about PDA, Alec promising to respect his boundaries, no kissing and never a hand wandering beneath his waist.

“How could I forget,” Asmodeus says sharply embarrassed by his son’s antics. He turns towards the large windows and looks out to where the porch patio lights illuminate Alec’s car.

“It is so sexy that you did that,” Alec says ignoring Asmodeus and turning towards Magnus. He downs the rest of his drink and meet’s Magnus’ eyes, a question and idea brewing clear in them. Magnus smirks tugging at Alec’s shirt.

“You think so?” he says teasingly.

“Mm hmm,” Alec says biting his lip and Magnus knows this is all a part of the show, but god are those lips tempting.

Magnus catches Asmodeus turning his attention back to them looking outright furious. Magnus pulls away from Alec’s eyes and smiles a bright smile like they’re doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“I’m gonna give Alec the tour,” he says leadingly pulling Alec along by both hands and rushing away from the living room and down the hall before Asmodeus can say a word. He can see Alec’s smirk as he notices the stares of the other guests in the room.

Magnus doesn’t even pay attention to where they’re going as he pulls them into a room just off the right side of the hall.

“How’d you actually get that scar?” Magnus asks once they’re inside shutting the door behind him, no doubt convincing everyone they’re about to get down and dirty.

“Took a hockey stick to the face when I was 17,” he says pulling himself to sit up on a desk. A desk that Magnus now recognizes as his fathers. They’ve pulled themselves into his father’s office and if they get caught in here he’ll never hear the end of it, he loves it.

“You played hockey?” Magnus asks lifting himself up to sit beside Alec on the desk ignoring the papers he accidentally topples to the ground.

Alec nods in the affirmative. “I did, that’s why it’s the only sport I can start heckling fights about, everything else is boring.”

Magnus snorts at that, he’s never been partial to any sport himself.

“Did you really do what you said out there?” Alec asks picking up a notepad and flipping through it mindlessly.

“I did,” Magnus smiles and Alec’s eyebrows both go up. “Don’t look so surprised, you’re not the only one capable of mischief.”

“Oh, I see that,” he says with a smile tossing the notepad back to where he found it. “That is kinda sexy you achieved a jump like that and didn’t get hurt.” He says it with his voice low and all sorts of New York around the edges. He freezes his hand stopping over the spot where he’d been about to pick up the ugly green and bronze sphere shaped paper weight beside him.

Magnus freezes too, Alec saying something like that while they’re alone makes it real, not like the fake flirty way he’d said it out in the living room.

“Sorry, that’s not, I’m sorry, I never cross that line when I do these things, we’re alone and,” Alec runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Magnus shakes his head reaching out and tentatively laying his hand atop Alec’s where it rests on the desk between them.

“It’s okay,” he says and Alec looks at him ready to argue the point. Magnus jumps in stopping him before he can say a word and taking his own leap into making this far more real than fake. “Really, it’s okay. You, uh, you’re not so bad yourself.”

Alec huffs a laugh opening and closing his mouth a few times like he’s looking for the right words to say. The space between them feels a little charged now that they’ve floated out the simple fact there’s a real attraction here. Alec closes his mouth and bites his lip looking determined like he knows what to say finally when the door busts open.

“Oh, my apologies boys,” Marissa says standing in the doorway her hands on her hips and a pleased little smile on her lips. “But dinner is served.”

Magnus and Alec pull away from one another quickly hopping off the desk and stepping towards the door.

“You two are just too cute,” Marissa says when they reach her. She loops each of her arms through one of theirs and tugs them down the hall happily. “Don’t listen to a word your father says.”

Magnus meets Alec’s eyes over her head only to find Alec already looking at him, a soft smile on his lips.

***

Magnus takes his proverbial spot on his father’s right at the head of the table, Marissa doing the same on his left. Despite Asmodeus’ clear attempt to keep Alec as far away from him and Magnus as possible by seating him at the far end of the long table he fails. Luckily one of Marissa’s friends, just as airy and tight dressed as her is seated next to Magnus and happily swaps spots with Alec.

Alec lifts his drink to Asmodeus in a faux toast that Asmodeus doesn’t even feign interest in as he takes his seat.

Dinner is served and it’s to be expected. The sweet potatoes are divine none of that weird marshmallow bullshit in them, the mac and cheese is literally to die for and the homemade bread hits in just the right way. The turkey is terrible, but that’s not at the fault of the overpriced chef that’s just simply because it’s an indisputable fact that turkey tastes like napkins.

Alec eats so much Magnus is concerned, he can tell from the tight fit of his shirt that Alec is in impeccable shape so he doesn’t really know where he puts it all as he goes for his fourth serving of mac and cheese.

But long before his fourth serving of cheesy goodness Alec starts up at least three debates that would be deemed far too impolite for their supposed polite company. Each fresh serving he corners someone new into a debate; first it’s an old lady in a pantsuit pulled into a debate about the existence of god, then a forty something who looks like he’s never seen a rainbow without feeling threatened into a talk on the merits of teaching queer history to children and finally a woman who can’t be much older than them who looks like her name is Tinsley or Ainsleigh or something equally as nauseating into a tense bordering on yelling match about the importance of safe abortion access.

He sounds a little more drunk with every conversation and he’s damn good at faking it. He sounds just the right amount of inebriated not slurring his words too much or fumbling around with his silverware, it’s practiced, a master class in being drunk without being drunk. Most people overplay it acting far more outlandish than a drunk person sitting at a table would, but Alec has it down pact.

Magnus watches him not a care in the world, acting like he doesn’t even notice the disruption Alec is causing. The only person aside from Magnus that doesn’t look increasingly more uncomfortable by the minute is Marissa who looks like she’s having the time of her life watching these stuffy rich people squirm.

Asmodeus of course does not look delighted, he barely eats, just scowls over the rim of his wine glass and attempts to deflect any conversation Alec purposely instigates another way unsuccessfully.

The only time he seems to look like he’s not about to have a coronary is when everyone’s plates are finally collected, Alec still shoveling the last bit of mashed potatoes on his plate into his mouth as one of the waiters lifts the plate away from him, and it’s announced that dinner and coffee will be served in the living room.

Alec stands stretching his arms up over his head and Magnus admires the ripple of his muscles as he does so before standing beside him. Alec reaches over the table picking up yet another glass of water and tossing it back with a loud unnecessary thirst quenched sound before holding out his hand to Magnus. Magnus takes it instantly with a smile following along as they head for the living room once again.  

***

A waiter takes their dessert requests, a choice of six different types of pie as they file out of the large dining room.

Magnus selects the pumpkin pie, while Alec chooses the chocolate pecan.

“Pecan, gross,” Magnus says as they work their way over to one side of the room a little bit away from everyone else to have just a moment of reprieve.

“How dare you, pecan pie is delicious,” Alec says sounding outright offended.

Magnus rolls his eyes and crosses his arms making a face that screams Alec is insane to have that opinion.

“It’s all sugar, no substance,” Magnus says. He really shouldn’t be surprised Alec’s favorite pie is one as ridiculously sugar based as pecan considering the amount of sugar he witnessed him dump into his coffee a few days prior. Alec doesn’t even deign him with a response, he just gives him another affronted look like Magnus has insulted his entire being, not a pie.

Moments later a waiter hands them each their requested pies. Alec takes a bite of his pointedly making eye contact with Magnus as he does so and making a pleased obnoxious yum sound. Magnus just rolls his eyes again, amused as he takes a bite of his own pie.

“So, are you enjoying yourself so far this evening?” Magnus asks after a few minutes of companionable silence.

Alec pauses grabbing a coffee from a passing tray and taking a sip, he grimaces a bit at the black coffee before answering Magnus’ question. Out of the corner of his eye Magnus sees his father watching them, almost looking excited to see Alec drinking a coffee, probably hoping it will sober him up.

“Well, your father is kind of terrible, and all these people are exhausting,” he says gesturing with his fork to the room at large after he sits his coffee on the floor next to him. “But despite the fact she may be a little air headed Marissa is lovely and I get a kick out of making rich people as uncomfortable as possible, so it’s been a pretty good night thus far.”

He pauses taking a bite of his pie and looking at Magnus from underneath his thick dark lashes. “Plus, you know, you’re pretty good company as well,” he says tapping his fork to his lips.

Magnus slow blinks at him and smiles.

“You’re pretty good company as well, especially when you’re just being you, like right now, not the overstated bad boy, even if he is a good time,” Magnus says. He reaches out his empty fork and boops Alec on the nose with it, just because. Alec scrunches up his face adorably at the action.

“Well I like you being you too, though it’s kind of fun you’re playing into my whole act, most people just play the none the wiser partner,” Alec says before leaning down and drinking another glug of his coffee. He makes the same cute displeased face again as he swallows.

“Really? No one’s made it seem like you’ve turned them into a crazy bad boy too?” Magnus says surprised. He’s been having a pretty good time being a little more instigative around his father than he usually would be.

Alec shakes his head. “Not really, Dot tackling her family members was a bit of an outlier, and honestly they’re almost never guys.”

“So I’m your first fake boyfriend then, huh?” Magnus says oddly flattered about the possibility.

“Second actually, but still most of the time I get hired by women, there’s a comfort in knowing that your fake date won’t try to make a move,” Alec says taking the last bite of his sickeningly sweet pecan pie.

“I guess I didn’t have a problem with that prospect,” Magnus says smiling around his fork looking right into Alec’s pretty hazel eyes, all dark rimmed and intent on him.

“I guess you didn’t,” he says with a smile putting his empty plate and mug on a passing tray and leaning back comfortably.

Magnus joins him leaning over by one of the sprawling windows casually finishing off his pie looking up to see one of his father’s political friends, a 30 something councilman of some sort, staring at them nearby. Alec, the little devil, winks at him slow and seductive. The councilman bristles and his wife beside him gives Alec an evil stare.

Magnus laughs a little, thinking that’s it for that interaction when suddenly the click of heels approaches them.

“Did you just wink at my husband?” the woman all but screams at Alec causing him to jump up from his slouch against the windows. Her head shakes as she speaks, her clip-on earrings wobbling.

“I,” Alec starts, but she doesn’t let him get in a word before she’s tossing her glass of white wine right at him.

“Oh, shit,” he says surprised and laughing a bit as he scrubs at his face his already messy eyeliner getting even messier in the process.

“Listen, lady I had no intention, your husband was the one staring,” he shouts back sounding a little more drunk than he did at the dinner table, they weren’t planning on Alec picking a fight tonight, but it seems he’s rolling with the one presented to him.

“Why you little, you little-“ she basically shrieks her husband pulling at her arm trying to stop her from taking this any further. Magnus steps in in front of Alec, a stern look of shutting shit down that he learned from his father on his face.

“You will want to watch your next words very carefully, wouldn’t want your husband’s constituents hearing any bigoted language coming from his already,” Magnus pauses surveying her bejeweled dress that looks like she’s going to a bad 80’s themed prom. “Tacky wife.”

She looks angrier at that, but Magnus’ stern look seems to usher her away, allowing her husband to pull her from the room.

The room is dead silent all eyes on them.

“Alright,” Asmodeus’ voice booms, everyone turning his way. “Show’s over, nightcaps will be served by the barkeep in the library shortly why don’t you all head in there,” he says gesturing to the way of the library. He steps over to Magnus and Alec as does Marissa who instantly hands Alec a towel.

“She’s always been a stick in the mud with bad taste,” Marissa says showing her own dislike for the councilman’s wife. “You didn’t do a thing wrong.” She smiles at them both apologetically before linking her arm in Alec’s and pulling him the way of everyone else. Magnus moves to follow, but is stopped by a hand on his chest from Asmodeus.

“We need to talk,” he says leaving no room for argument. Alec looks back at him from where Marissa is still chattering happily to him, a clear question of if he needs to cause a scene to stay with Magnus in his eyes. Magnus waves him on, watching as they go.

He barely waits until Alec and Marissa are out of ear shot to start in on Magnus.

“I know he’s faking it,” Asmodeus says and that is not what Magnus was expecting. He plays dumb though raising his eyebrows in question.

“Don’t act like you don’t what I’m talking about, I’d venture to say from the looks you two share you know all about it as well. You just brought him here and put on this whole show to embarrass me,” Asmodeus continues with a disappointed sigh. “That man hasn’t had a drop of liquor tonight, every action he’s taken hasn’t been some alcohol fueled mistake it’s been purposeful. He’s probably the most sober person here tonight. As far as I’d guess aside from truly being the black sheep of his family name and that truly atrocious car nothing that’s happened here tonight has been real.”

And alright, yeah Magnus definitely wasn’t expecting this. He expected his father to rail on his choice of partner, to knock Alec’s character and behavior and maybe Magnus’ to boot as well. He didn’t expect him to know exactly what’s been going on all night.

“And before you ask how I figured it out, you really should have made sure your date kept better track of his finished glasses, after dinner he left one behind and it didn’t smell of the vodka we’ve all been convinced he’s been downing all night,” Asmodeus explains. “From there a quick search told me the name was at least true. His family really did cut him out judging from his complete disappearance from all events, not that I can blame them, anyone who behaves this atrociously without influence of alcohol just to play a game probably deserves to be cut off.”

Magnus huffs out an unamused laugh at the underlying implications of his statement.

“Is that a threat?” Magnus says steely eyed.

“It could be, if you don’t get him out of here right this instant and promise to never try anything even close to similar to this charade again,” Asmodeus says just as steely eyed and Magnus hates that he learned the look from him.

For a moment he considers just leaving, hightailing it out of there with Alec and not saying a single other word to his father, but he’s tired. He’s 30 and he’s been putting up with his father’s vague threats if he doesn’t play the good little son role since before he could talk practically and he’s just done.

“No, we won’t be leaving,” Magnus says holding his ground. “And as for this charade well I guess I can promise you nothing like this will ever happen again, because I’m done. I’m done playing some perfectly crafted son that I’m not, I’m done acting like we’re a happy little family, like you won’t get bored of poor, sweet Marissa in no time and there’ll be a new wife on your arm who you’ll pay just as little attention to.”

“You’re right, I did do this to embarrass you, to show those fucking fakes in there that you are the fakest amongst them, even more so than all of them combined. Alec may have been playing a role tonight, but he’s ten times more real than you could ever dream to be. Don’t worry about having to cut me off and making a whole big show of it, I haven’t needed you or your money in years,” Magnus says. He straightens out his shirt and stands with his head held high turning on his heel to join Alec in the library.

***

Magnus is frankly riding high on truly stepping up to his father for the first and likely last time in his life when he saunters into the library scanning around to find Alec. He spots him in the corner chatting with Marissa.

“There you are,” Alec says sounding genuinely concerned. Magnus just smiles at him hoping it looks more assuring than it feels.

Marissa reaches out patting him on the cheek lightly. “Don’t listen to whatever he said, he’s just jealous he’s not as outstanding as you,” she says with a smile.

Magnus is struck in that moment with how much his father doesn’t deserve her, she might be a lot to take sometimes, but she is a genuinely kind woman.

“Nor as outstanding as you,” Magnus says with a smile and she blushes at the compliment. He’s ready to follow that up by telling her that she should leave his father’s ass immediately before he gets the chance to toss her to the side, but someone calls out her name and she’s pulled away smiling at them as she goes.

“Ready for the grand finale?” Alec says as soon as Marissa steps away. The grand finale, right, Magnus and Alec had discussed giving one last show before they left for the night if they managed to make it all the way through dessert. And they have, everyone’s nursing nightcaps ready to exit for the evening, but clearly all lingering around to see if Alec does anything else embarrassing or outlandish before they go.

Mere moments ago Magnus was ready to just storm out of here with Alec at his side and maybe ask Alec if he fancied going on a real date for a late-night drink somewhere.

But now with his father storming into the room after him, glaring and judging, looking quite possibly the most upset he’s ever been with Magnus he can’t seem to find a reason to go just yet.

“Let’s do it,” he says and Alec smiles tossing back his water and acting as if there’s a nice vodka burn to it. He grabs a discarded fork from a table nearby and taps it on his now empty glass so hard that it chips just a bit earning everyone’s attention.

“Could I have everyone’s attention please,” he says sounding a little bit like he’s sobered up after the near fight with the councilman’s wife. Most of the room looks their way eagerly like they can’t wait to see what happens next, while a few others apprehensively turn their attention.

“I met this stunning man not all that long ago,” he says laying his hands lightly on Magnus’ shoulders. “But in that short time, I have realized that undisputedly there will never be another for me. From the moment we hooked up in the back of Cherry the night we met,” he says not elaborating at all on that sentence, earning the shocked gasps and confused looks of many. Marissa giggles, Asmodeus seethes not loving this new addition to their fake meet cute story even if he knows it’s all a ruse now. “I knew you were the one, so, Magnus Bane,” he continues on getting down on one knee he pulls the plain silver ring he’s been wearing all night on his middle finger off and presents it to Magnus. “Will you marry me?”

Magnus pretends to be shocked covering his mouth with a gasp. His eyes flit up to where his father stands, looking like he’s about to make some move to physically stop Magnus from answering Alec’s question, like he won’t survive the embarrassment of this room full of people knowing his sons engaged to a degenerate in messed up jeans even if he knows it’s not real. Magnus doesn’t give him the chance immediately looking down at Alec with glassy eyes.

“Yes, Alexander, yes,” he says no longer hiding his amused grin as Alec slips the ring on his finger and lifts up from the ground pulling Magnus into a crushing hug. The room claps tentatively, enthusiastically in Marissa’s case who it seems does not care how insane something is she just loves love. How she ever ended up married to his father, who only truly loves himself, his hardwood floors and his hair is a continual mystery.

“Wanna get the fuck out of here?” Magnus mumbles into Alec’s ear. Alec pulls back from their hug and nods enthusiastically.

“Do I have your permission to bridal carry you out of here?” Alec says lowly ensuring no one can hear him.

“Oh, hell yes,” Magnus says delightedly as Alec lifts him up and makes for the door.

“We’re gonna go celebrate in the back of Cherry again,” Alec announces proudly to the room as he goes. Magnus pats him on the shoulder guiding him to the coat closet where he quickly grabs their jackets, Alec never losing his grip on him.

Asmodeus shouts after them as they head out the door, Alec pausing at his car and planting Magnus down on the ground gently. He tugs at the door three times before it opens gesturing for Magnus to get in as he ignores his father’s bellowing shouts. Alec playfully salutes Asmodeus and slides over the hood of his car bumping into the Porsche beside him setting off it’s car alarm as he lands and slips into the driver’s seat quickly.

He starts the engine peeling out of the space just as Asmodeus reaches the front of the car. Magnus just blatantly ignores him only catching sight of Marissa standing in the door waving their way as they drive off.

***

The ride back is quiet for the first twenty minutes or so, music playing softly as Alec drives drumming his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat.

“My dad figured out you were faking it,” Magnus says with no preamble looking out the window as they go. The roads are mostly empty now people celebrating the holiday into the late hours with their families before waking up at 5 a.m. to Black Friday shop.

“Shit, there goes my Oscar,” Alec says eyes flashing to Magnus quickly with a laugh before focusing back on the road. Magnus chuckles in response.

“Well, it’s an honor just to be nominated,” Magnus smiles tilting his head towards Alec.

Alec snorts a little laugh then turns his head quickly to Magnus once again.

“Did your dad give you a lot of trouble about it?”

“He did, I don’t think I’ll be getting a Christmas invite after I railed back at him,” Magnus says. “But it’s okay. I think it was just a long time coming, bound to happen. Better to get it over with now before I wasted more years trying to seem like I’m something I’m not just to please him.”

Alec comes to a stop at a red light and turns his attention fully to Magnus.

“Are you okay? I mean shitty or not, having a parent cut ties isn’t easy, trust me I know,” he says. Magnus watches him enjoying the way the red of the stoplight cuts through his dark hair.

Magnus takes a deep breath and gives Alec a small assuring smile.

“I will be,” he says, truly meaning it. The fallout with his father is a lot, but he will be okay. He’s lived without his father being truly present in any form since the day his mother walked out on them, this new world where he’s likely all cut off isn’t anything new really. He’ll manage, hell he might even thrive without the chains of his father’s expectations weighing on him now.

The light turns green and they lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, Magnus completely endeared as he listens to Alec mumbling the lyrics to every other song that comes on the radio under his breath.

When they pull up to the curb outside of Magnus’ house Alec steps out first ever the gentleman helping Magnus with the finicky passenger side door.

He holds out a hand helping Magnus out and smiles when he drops it shutting the door tight.

“Well, thank you for the free meal and the fun night of mischief,” Alec says leaning back against his Thunderbird. His eyeliner is a mess and there’s a faint dried spot along his white shirt stained from the wine incident, he looks beautiful under this streetlight and Magnus wants more night like this. Well maybe not exactly like this one, it’s been a bit of rollercoaster for him emotionally, but nights with Alec all the same.

“Go out with me,” he says not even framing it as a question. He knows Alec is interested too has seen it in the moments where he was just being himself and the appreciative glances he’s given Magnus all night that clearly weren’t just a part of the show he was putting on. And that doesn’t even cover their coffee the other day, the easy way they’d talked and just clicked right off the bat.

“For real, not a fake date or a bad boyfriend show, a real date,” Magnus clarifies when he notices Alec’s surprise.

“I’d like that a lot,” Alec says pushing off the car. He steps a little closer to Magnus leaving just a bit of distance for Magnus to clear if he wants. Magnus does want so he steps up not quite touching Alec, but close enough all he’d have to do is raise a hand. It feels almost like when they were in his father’s office tonight, but even better because they’re alone for real now, there’s no show and no chance of interruptions.

“I need the record to show that I literally never do this, not once, I haven’t even been interested, let alone made any sort of action to make something real out of one of these fake dates,” Alec says low and sincere keeping his eyes on Magnus’ the entire time making sure the words are clear. “You are entirely the exception.”

“Entirely exceptional, actually,” he adds on with a smile. Magnus smiles reaching out his hands to rest on Alec’s chest.

“So are you,” he says patting his hands twice where they rest. “And I believe you aren’t just doing this to pick up hot guys, no worries.” He says with a chuckle and Alec rolls his eyes.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Alec asks.

“Nothing, no classes until next Tuesday and most of my friends are out of town for family dinners and what not. I’m as free as a bird,” he says blinking his eyes just a bit flirtatiously at Alec.

“Good, we should get dinner, no family, no bullshit, just us,” Alec says tentatively resting his hands on Magnus’ waist.

“I like the sound of that,” Magnus says lifting up to kiss Alec on the cheek softly just once before pulling back.

“I’ll text you with a time and place in the morning,” he says slowly stepping backwards holding Alec’s steady gaze as he goes. He turns just for a moment putting his key’s in the door and pushing it open before turning back. “Goodnight, Alexander.” He says and watches as Alec smiles a dazzling smile before rounding the car and opening the driver’s side door.

“Goodnight, Magnus,” he says before slipping into his car. Magnus watches with a smile as he pulls away from the curb, his bright red ridiculous Thunderbird speeding away. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he makes his way all the way up to his apartment, so much so that he’s pretty sure his cat is judging him all the way to bed.

***

One Year Later

Magnus’ phone buzzes insistently his ringtone blaring on the nightstand.

“Stop that,” he says weakly reaching out an arm to silence it, his hand falling to the nightstand and coming up empty once, twice, three times while it continues to ring. It’s far too loud and far too early on a holiday with no responsibilities for this.

A chuckle comes from above him and warmth reaches over brushing his fingers before gripping the phone and pulling back.

“Magnus Bane’s phone,” Alec answers his voice a little lower and rougher than usual from sleep. It’s a very nice sound. Magnus can’t hear who’s on the other end of the line, but when he flips over he sees Alec smile and perk up a bit leaning back against the headboard.

“Yeah it is Alec, it’s good to know you remember me, Marissa,” he says and Magnus raises an eyebrow he’s only heard from his father’s wife once since last Thanksgiving, an apologetic text on his father’s behalf. His father on the other hand hasn’t so much as sent a sternly worded email in that time.

“Yeah, he’s here, hold on sec,” Alec says, he lowers the phone offering it to Magnus who grumbles a bit lifting himself up and leaning against the headboard next to Alec.

“Hi, Marissa,” he says clearing his throat a bit.

“Magnus!” she shouts into his ear and he jumps back a bit, from the both the volume and from shock hearing that she’s finally dropped her terrible nickname for him. “I was glad to hear Alec answer the phone, I knew you two were a good match, even if it was all a show that night.”

“Ah,” Magnus says. “So father told you.”

“He did, but it doesn’t change that you two are the cutest,” she says. “Which speaking of your father,” she starts and Magnus is ready to shoot down any attempt at reuniting she’s trying to pull here. Marissa is a nice woman, but his father’s silence in the past year has spoken volumes, he’s not playing into a reconciliation he can’t even make the call for.

“I left him,” she says finishing her sentence. Magnus huffs out a little surprised laugh that Alec raises an eyebrow at, well good for her. “About a month ago and I know it’s incredibly short notice and you might have other plans, but I’m having a little Thanksgiving dinner of my own with a few friends this year and I’d love to see you. And Alec too, of course!”

Magnus smiles, they’d had a Friendsgiving slash one year anniversary celebration over the weekend with Raphael, Cat, Dot, Ragnor and Alec’s siblings, tonight’s plans were likely going to consist of Chinese takeout on the couch and making out. And while Marissa can be a lot she was always kind, and he can’t help but recall how supportive she’d been that night a year ago. He can’t find it in himself to turn down her offer because of it.

“We’d love to,” he says and Alec looks at him again in question. Magnus just waves a hand signaling he wait a moment for explanation. On the other end of the line Marissa claps excitedly.

“Yay!” she says. “I’ll text you my address, I’m in the city now so Alec might have to leave Cherry at home.”

Magnus laughs. “Oh, he might bring her anyways.”

He chats idly with Marissa for a few more minutes before disconnecting and promising they’ll be on much better behavior this year for dinner.

“Marissa left my father,” Magnus says as soon as he’s hung up and tossed his phone back on the nightstand. Alec smiles looking just as oddly proud for her as Magnus feels. “And we’re having Thanksgiving with her and some friends tonight.”

“Good for her,” he says flipping back the covers and getting out of bed. “Should I get out the eyeliner and torn up jeans for tonight just for old times’ sake, or no?”

He smirks standing gloriously naked in front of the dresser rustling through one of his drawers. His drawers. Magnus isn’t quite used to the lovely novelty of the fact that Alec lives with him now. It’s been about two months since they made it official and just seeing one of Alec’s crappy romance novels on the coffee table or his shitty leather jacket hanging in its permanent space in their closest still makes him feel all sorts of tingly.

Magnus hums in thought rising up from bed and moving to lean against the dresser beside Alec. He’d pay good money to get Alec to wear eyeliner more often frankly.

“I think you should bring both of those things out as often as you’d like,” he says reaching out a hand and cupping Alec’s cheek turning it towards him. The feel of Alec’s soft, shaven skin is something he also isn’t quite used to. For the first time in their year together he’d shaved off his beard entirely, completely out of the blue and for no other reason than he’d had a day off and was bored. He’s as handsome as ever, but Magnus had quite literally had to do a double take when he came home and saw Alec sitting on the couch.

“Do try and leave the illustrious tales of our sexual escapades at home this time though, darling,” he says with a smile. He’s mostly joking, but now that their sexual escapades are real and not fictionalized he’d like to keep them just between them.  

“Damn, well there goes all my dinner conversation topics,” Alec says with a wicked little smile.

“Menace,” Magnus says as he slides his hand down from Alec’s face to his chest with a shake of his head.

Magnus runs his fingers lightly through the hair on Alec’s chest stopping to rest on the stark black tattoo on his lower abdomen. And boy hadn’t it been a blissful discovery to see that ink when he finally got Alec’s shirt off for the first time. He trails his fingers over the shape of it lightly, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“If you keep doing that we’ll never leave this room,” Alec says his lips tilting up in a little pleased smirk.

“Doing what?” Magnus says innocently still moving his fingers over the shape of the tattoo lightly.

“And you say I’m the menace,” Alec says leaning in to kiss him on the lips once hard and bruising. “We need to shower.” He says stepping away from Magnus. Magnus’s hand falls and he pouts laying it on a bit thick. Alec pointedly attempts to ignore it.

“Together?” Magnus says with a hopeful smile.

Alec rolls his eyes. “I feel like despite having literal hours to get ready we’ll end up late somehow if we do,” he says eyeing Magnus’ bare form appreciatively. “But there’s no way I can say no to that.”

Magnus smirks pushing himself off the dresser and right up against Alec.

“Damn straight,” he says before leaning in to lay a teasing, promising kiss on his lips.

“There is absolutely nothing straight about this,” Alec says with a toothy smile once he’s pulled back already tugging Magnus into the bathroom for their shower. Magnus laughs loud and bright as he’s dragged along.

***

Impossibly despite literal hours, Alec’s right, showering together does prolong the entire process of getting out of the apartment when showering becomes shower sex, which becomes another round on the bathroom counter which results in needing to shower again, separately this time much to both their dismays.

Eventually though, they’re dressed and ready. Magnus finishes up the last touches on his hair, adjusting the bright almost golden streak at the front of it which compliments the golden chained pattern of his shirt. He picks up the ring Alec fake proposed to him with last year and twists it onto his right-hand ringer finger with a smile. They obviously aren’t actually engaged, but increasingly lately Magnus finds himself thinking about making it real.

He gives himself one last once over in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom to find Alec sitting cross legged on their bed and Magnus is nearly sent back in time to a year ago.

He’s wearing the jeans and boots just like he had that night, his eyeliner is in place a little less messy but still unpracticed and his hair is its usual tussled self. The shirt is almost the same, this time it’s one Magnus gave him with subtle lines of shiny black at the collar and cuffs, the little black loops in his ears are a gift from Magnus as well.

It’s a perfect combination of that first night when they were a fake couple out to cause mayhem and the couple they are now, a royal we couple that are so deep in love Magnus has to just take a few breaths in sometimes to remember this is all real.

“Ready to go?” Alec asks looking up at Magnus with a smile. Magnus nods as Alec stands throwing on his leather jacket with the hole in it he refuses to fix. Magnus follows suit grabbing his own jacket and following Alec out as he grabs his keys and wallet scratching the heads of both cats curled up on the back of the couch as he goes.

“We could take the subway you know?” Magnus says once they’re in the elevator, Alec twirling the keys to his Thunderbird around his finger.

Alec scrunches up his face adorably. “No way,” he says gesturing for Magnus to step out first when they reach the lobby. “Cherry helping us fight through Thanksgiving traffic is gonna be a lifelong tradition for us.”

Lifelong Magnus likes the sound of that, but he is dubious that Alec’s precious car will last anywhere near that long.

Alec rushes to the car parked proudly and loudly right in front of their building unlocking it and pulling four times on the passenger door before getting it open.

He smiles at Magnus gesturing with an overstated bow for him to get in and Magnus rolls his eyes but can’t seem to hide his smile and Alec knows it. He shuts the door once Magnus is in and in a move reminiscent of their escape from his father’s last year slides over the hood before slipping into his own seat and starting the car driving off to a much better Thanksgiving than the year before.

[all-the-love-harold]

maybe as a continuation to the Thanksgiving drabble? idk? but can we have y/n being pregnant and Harry wanting her to sign a prenup bc of how cranky she's been but at the conference he asks for something precious (the ring?) and she starts tearing up but the baby comes and while she gives birth harry realizes that he doesn't wanna give this up and called off the prenup. thanks!

Drabble #14 - Part Two 

Part 1 Here

Your wedding plans had come to a halt when you found outthat you were pregnant. It wasn’t planned, but it wasn’t unwanted, both you andHarry were over the moon when the test came back positive, but it meant thatyour wedding would have to be postponed. You’d found out about a week after gettinghome from Thanksgiving with your parents in the States and immediately startedplanning out the nursery and getting things ready for the arrival of BabyStyles.

Christmas was a week away and you were getting ready to gofor your first scan. You’d been extremely irritable for the last two weeks andHarry was at his wits end with you, he’d been trying his best to be understandingbut every time he tried to help you, you would yell at him and he was losinghis patience.

“Would you stop chewing so loudly?” you said through grittedteeth as Harry ate a banana before you left

“Can’t help it love” he said, slightly annoyed, putting thepeel in the bin and grabbing the keys “ready?”

You nodded “Can we get breakfast after the scan?”

“Of course, got something I want to talk to you aboutafterwards to, have you got everything?”

“Yeah” you said grabbing your bag off the coffee table andheading towards the door.

After the Scan, you went straight to your favourite café fora late breakfast, both extremely happy after seeing Baby Styles on the screenfor the first time. The midwife had told you that everything was lookinghealthy so far, and all things going well, you’d have a healthy baby by Julynext year. This lifted your spirits and you were feeling much less irritablenow, knowing that everything was going as it should.

It was cold out, so you decided that you would sit inside,next to fire they had going, keeping you nice and cosy while you ate. Both youand Harry ordered your usual breakfast and after a small break in conversation aboutthe baby, you remembered that Harry had said he wanted to speak to you aboutsomething.

“What did you need to talk about earlier H?”  

He took a sip of his Coffee “Do remember that day you cometo the studio to see me, couple of months ago, and you over heard Jeff talkingabout a prenup?”

“Yeah” you nodded, putting your cutlery down

“I’ve been thinking about it a bit, and I think it might bea good idea, it will protect both of us” he paused for a second “and the baby,not that I think we’ll need it, but just in case”

You took a second to think over what he was saying “Have onedrawn up then, and I’ll look at it” you weren’t fussed on the idea, but youunderstood why it would appeal to Harry.

“I’ve got one right here” he pulled his phone out and handedit to you. You looked it over and stopped when you read that in the event ofdivorce, he would get the ring, which belonged to your late grandmother.

“You get the ring?” you looked at him quizzically

“My lawyer said that because we’re entering the marriage with80% of our assets belonging to me, then 80% of assets will go to me, if we getdivorced”

“The ring is mine H”

“I know love, but this is how things get split, chances are we’llnever even have to worry about it”

“I’m not signing this” you said, handing him back his phone.He nodded and put his phone away, hoping that he would remember to take it backto his lawyer and get it fixed

****

The rest of the pregnancy went smoothly but Harry didn’t letthe idea of a prenup go. July arrived a and the wedding date was set forDecember, and you were still yet to be happy enough with the prenup to sign it.You were over being pregnant, it was hot, and you could not get comfortable,you hadn’t slept properly in weeks and all you wanted was to meet Baby Styles

You went into labour on a Thursday Morning, and thirty-sixhours later, you welcomed a beautiful baby boy into the world. You were exhausted,and soon after giving birth, you drifted off to sleep, with your son on yourchest.

When you woke up Harry was sitting in the chair next to yourbed, staring down at his son.

“Hey Little man, don’t cry” he hushed “Your Mumma’s tired,kept her up for thirty six hours, gotta let her get some sleep” he looked upand saw that you were awake “Sorry love, did we wake you?”

“Yeah, but that’s ok, how’s he doing?”

Harry stood and carefully walked over to your bed “He’sperfect, maybe a little hungry” he sat down on the edge of the bed, handing youthe baby

“Little man, how you doing?” you cooed, guiding him towardsyour breast so that you could feed him. Harry watched in awe as the women heloved most in the world bounded with his child.

“Let’s forget about the prenup” he said, placing a gentlekiss on your head

“What?”

“None of that matters, this” he motioned towards you and thebaby “us, our little man, this family is what counts, I don’t care about therest of it”

You rested your head against his shoulder “I love you H”

“I love you too Y/N, and this little guy”

Thank you so much for this request, Dad Harry kills me! Sorry it took me so long to get to, I had a lot of requests to get through, I hope you all enjoyed it! 

Master List 

[aadmelioraa]

I was finally able to narrow my prompt request down to "I told my family I was going to my s/o’s place but they want to skype." (Thanksgiving Edition) and I'm looking forward to how you are going to ban this prompt on (virtual) paper. :)

Thanks for the prompt, Laura! Enjoy some fake dating Thanksgiving Bellarke fluff :)

Bellamy frowned at his phone. Clarke was calling him. Clarke never used her phone as a phone, she always texted. They hadn’t really seen much of each other lately either…since she and her ex had gotten together, actually. Something must be up.

“Hey, Clarke, everything ok?” he answered the call, unable to imagine what reason Clarke had to be calling him.

“Hi Bellamy,” Clarke said cheerfully, “sorry to bother you, but I need to borrow your kitchen on Thursday if I can.”

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, quite confused. “My kitchen?”

“And you,” Clarke added

“You need to borrow me and my kitchen on Thanksgiving?” Bellamy stood up and began to pace. “Clarke, what’s going on?”

Clarke sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “I told my mom I couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving and she asked why so I told her I was spending the day with you.”

“Ok, but why would you be spending Thanksgiving with me?” Bellamy puzzled.

“I told her we were dating.” 

“You told your mom we were dating?”

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

“Clarke, come on, you have to concede that this is a little unexpected from my perspective.”

“Ok, fine,” Clarke admitted. “Yes, I told her we were dating, and now she wants to Skype with us so I’m screwed unless you help me out.”

“Ok, weirdo. Why didn’t you ask me before you made up that story for your mom?”

“I wasn’t thinking, obviously.” Clarke replied. “They’re just really busy right now, my mom and Marcus, and I’m going to see them soon at Christmas, and things at work are kind of crazy so I didn’t want to take the time off…”

“Clarke, Clarke, it’s fine,” Bellamy reassured her. “I guess teasing you is as good a use of my time on Thanksgiving as anything else.”

“I guess it is.” Clarke paused. “You sure this is ok? I don’t want to ruin your plans, and I know I kind of sprung this on you…”

“You absolutely sprung it on me,” Bellamy agreed. “But it’s fine, really. Come over around noon on Thursday and we can started.”

“You’re the best. Thanks, Bellamy.” Clarke’s relief was audible.

“Don’t forget your apron,” he teased.

“You know I don’t have one,” Clarke replied, and hung up.

She arrived at his place exactly on time Thanksgiving day, carrying a six pack and a bag of potato chips “just in case.”

“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting, Bellamy,” Clarke frowned as she looked around the bare countertops of his familiar kitchen. “Why aren’t you elbow deep in food prep right now? And where’s Octavia?”

“O is spending the holiday with her girlfriend’s family,” Bellamy replied, “So I wasn’t planning on cooking anything special until you invited yourself over.”

“Niylah’s family didn’t invite you to join?” Clarke asked, almost indignantly.

“Relax, they did,” Bellamy replied casually as he put the beer in the fridge, “but it’s their first holiday as a couple and I thought I’d give Octavia some space.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Clarke replied, then quickly added, “So you don’t have a turkey or anything? What are we going to cook? I have to convince my mom this is real.”

Bellamy shrugged. “I figured we could go shopping now. No reason for me to bankroll this whole thing, right?”

“Ok, that’s fair,” Clarke admitted. “I guess I just assumed you had a plan already. That’s on me. But it’s Thanksgiving day, Bellamy…the shelves are going to be practically empty, even if the stores are open.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Bellamy replied, grabbing his keys from a bowl on the kitchen table. “Let’s go, Griffin.”

They found an open supermarket a few miles away, but as Clarke predicted the shelves were pretty bare. The only turkey left was a huge 27 pound bird, which was much more than they needed.

“So….no turkey, then.” Bellamy glanced at Clarke, trying to gauge whether she was disappointed or not. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Turkey tastes like napkins,” Clarke rejoined. “Let’s just make something else.”

Bellamy smirked. “What do you want to make?”

“I don’t care,” Clarke shrugged, gesturing toward the freezer section. “Mac and cheese, pizza, whatever you want.”

“Absolutely not,” Bellamy replied firmly and steered her towards the produce.

“What’s wrong with pizza?” Clarke asked indignantly.

“Nothing, we can make pizza, but we’re making it from scratch.”

“Of course we are,” Clarke grumbled, as Bellamy got some fresh basil, garlic, and a bell pepper.

“I don’t want your mom thinking your boyfriend can’t cook.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “We’re not actually dating, Bellamy, does it matter what she thinks of your cooking?”

Bellamy flat out ignored her. “Can you get a small can of crushed tomatoes, and a bottle of olive oil? I’m almost out. I’ll meet you in the dairy section.”

Clarke found him debating between two brands of fresh mozzarella a few minutes later. “You’re overthinking this. That one.” She threw one of the containers into the basket with her items.

“Fine, fine. Ready to go?”

Clarke frowned. “We didn’t get a crust.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to buy a crust, Clarke. We’re going to make it.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you, it’s not that hard.”

“I’m surprised you’re not making the cheese from scratch too,” muttered Clarke.

Bellamy just chuckled and led the way to the checkout.

Back in Bellamy’s kitchen, he had started work on the dough and Clarke, under his watchful eye, chopped the garlic and got the sauce prepped.

“You’re actually not half bad at this, Clarke.”

“I can follow explicit instructions, thank you very much.”

Clarke was expecting her mom to call around 4:00, and they were making good time. Now they just waited for the dough to rise. Clarke congratulated herself for the foresight to bring a snack.

“By the way, this is a lot of work for something you can just order for like ten bucks,” she commented, grabbing them each a beer from the fridge.

“It’s going to be amazing, you’ll see, then you’ll be begging me to make you pizza every week,” Bellamy promised, accepting the bottle she handed him.

“Maybe.” Clarke grinned. “Anyway, I owe you, Bellamy. Thanks for letting me take over your entire holiday. Actually,” she considered, taking a sip of her drink, “You might owe me, more. What were you going to be doing all day today, while everyone else was celebrating?”

Bellamy blushed. “I don’t know, watch a little tv and work on grading papers, probably.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “So boring. This is better.”

He grinned. “This is much better.”

It really was. Clarke was still a lot of fun to be with, and even though they hadn’t spent a lot of time together lately it didn’t feel as if they’d grown apart at all. Clarke seemed to be enjoying herself too. She was going through his kitchen cabinets and making fun of all the assorted tools that she had never seen before.

“What’s this? A citrus zester? What do you need to zest citrus for?”

“Remind me to make you my blueberry muffins some time.”

“Maybe we should make those next.“

“You going to be compensating me for my services, Griffin?”

Clarke shot him a wicked grin. “Shut up, you love it.”

“I do,” he admitted. “I’ve missed you lately, Clarke, honestly.”

Clarke didn’t reply, just abruptly hugged him, burrowing her face into his chest. He was taken off guard for a moment, but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms round her tight.

“You ok?” he murmured into her hair. He hadn’t seen her this vulnerable…ever.

“Yeah, I’m ok,” she whispered back. “Thanks.”

“Clarke, you know that—“

He was cut off by a beeping ring from Clarke’s laptop. She’d left it open on the kitchen table, waiting for her mom to call. They were both quite startled, Clarke pulling back from him and Bellamy laughing nervously. He hated to admit it, but in the past hour he’d actually forgotten that the whole basis of them spending the holiday together was a facade for her parents. He’d started to believe it was real. He wondered if she had too.

Clarke took a deep breath, then she reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“No problem,” he said, and meant it.

“Come on,” she quickly seated herself in a chair facing the computer and indicated for Bellamy to do the same.

He followed, and tentatively placed an arm round the back of her chair. “This ok?”

She glanced up at him before reaching forward to pick up the call, smiling widely. “Perfect.”

[sapphicscholar]

Ok I know you're busy but please please please write whatever pairing you want for the post of the person who is advertising their services as being a terrible date to your family Thanksgiving dinner. No rush. Whenever you want. IF you want. Your life things absolutely come first

This has now been posted to AO3 here!

-Refers to this post  (text is there, but I changed to better match the situation/add in a joke or two)

A/N: This is set before the sort of reconciliation we get between Eliza and Alex (for reasons, even though other things have already happened that canonically take place post-reconciliation and really the timeline is all sorts of fucked but I’m beyond sleep-deprived), and since I’m writing from Alex’s POV, their relationship will sound pretty shitty, though it’s not the focus here. Also, this is pure crack–probably fairly terrible crack. In case anyone worried it would be serious….

Chapter Text

Knitting her eyebrows together in confusion, Alex reread at the vague subject line in her inbox: “Saw this, thought of you.” Knowing it was from Lucy already had her on high alert—the last time she’d unthinkingly opened a link from one of her emails at work, she’d ended up with the video for “Dick in a Box” playing at full volume to the surprise (and amusement) of her DEO recruits. But, since she was at home and more than a little curious, she clicked on the link, finding herself on a Craigslist ad that read:

“It’s Thanksgiving. Want to skip that long, insulting conversation about how youre still single? About how your parents really want more grand children? Well, look no further!

I am a 29 year old ex-con (long story, don’t worry, I’m plenty friendly!) with no family to worry about and a dirty pickup truck one year younger than me painted with some Scissor Sisters album cover artwork (there when I got it, but I like it too much to change it). I can play anywhere between the ages of 25 and 35 depending on hair and makeup. I’m a bartender and work late nights. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things, at your request: • Openly hit on other female guests while you act like you don’t notice• Start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion (I prefer to play the flaming liberal atheist, but can adapt depending on how promising the dessert selection will be and how much it would piss off your shitty family)• Propose to you in front of everyone (I’ve got a cheap ring and all)• Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on (sorry, I don’t really drink much anymore, but I used to. A lot. too much in fact… I know the drill)• Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see (I require advance warning if I’m not to harm them in any real way or leave marks)

I require no pay but the free meal I will receive as a guest!”

Scowling, Alex switched over to email and sent back: “What the hell, Lane?”

Mere seconds later a reply came back in: “Morning to you too, Alex! You said you didn’t want to deal with your mom and your sister’s shitty boyfriend alone again so… voila! A solution—and it’s free.”

“I’m not going to hire an escort service,” Alex shot back.

“She says ‘strictly platonic,’ so it’s really not an escort service. And you’re not paying her, just feeding her. C’mon, think of all the joy those stories could bring to me, your dear friend, your oldest friend.”

“You arrested me for treason.”

“Hey look! Something you two have in common. You could totally bond about being ex-cons together.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

Alex was ready to leave the conversation at that, but when she made it into the DEO, she found Lucy, a wide grin on her face and an extra coffee in her hand waiting for her in her lab. “So, I know you think it’s a bad idea, but here’s why you should do it.” She paused, waiting for Alex’s objections. When the woman just arched an eyebrow and glared, she kept going. “First of all, Eliza always wants to know why you don’t bring anyone home. You get the speech about how you went through all that effort to come out, and now you’re still single, Alexandra. Why? Second, Vas’s parents had to cancel last minute, so we’re gonna come crash the Danvers Thanksgiving extravaganza and would love to have some front row seats to this. Third, you know you’ve wanted to punch Mike since the moment he and Kara got together, and now someone is willing to do it for free. Do you understand how few things in life are genuinely free?”

“It won’t be free because you know the consequences will haunt me forever.”

“Danvers. Have I ever asked you for anything in my life?”

“So many things.”

“Hmm, I don’t recall those things. So you should say yes to this one.”

“Why are you so adamant?”

“No reason,” Lucy shrugged, a smirk playing at her lips as she feigned nonchalance, examining her perfectly manicured nails.

“Lucy,” Alex growled. “What did you do?”

“Nothing…I just, well, maybe I emailed her.”

“To say hello?”

“Yep, just emailed her to say hey.” A beat. “She can’t wait to meet you on Thursday!”

“Lucy!” Alex yelled, taking off after Lucy who had high-tailed it out of the lab. “Get your ass back in here!”

“Agent Danvers, is there a problem?” J’onn asked when Alex nearly collided with him.

“No, sir, nothing at all. I just have a few…follow up questions for Lucy.”

“It will have to wait. Supergirl just called in for backup on a situation developing downtown.”

With a nod, Alex resigned herself to waiting to exact her revenge on Lucy and cancel on whatever ex-con she’d found her for Thanksgiving. Of course, she reasoned, it might be amusing to see how her mother would react… Sure, she might not be able to compete with Kara, who could seemingly do no wrong, but surely she could be better than this internet chick. And bringing her would most definitely piss off her mother…

—

With a tumbler of top-shelf whiskey in front of her (courtesy of Lucy), Alex tilted her head to the side. “You’ll be there if anything goes horribly wrong?”

“I think you, Agent Badass, can more than handle it.” Lucy grinned at Alex over the rim of her own glass, far too excited about the prospect of her actually taking this mystery Craigslist woman to Thanksgiving dinner.

“Ah, but you forget I don’t really do family holidays sober. Still have a mean right hook, but it’d be nice to have backup.”

“Fine, yes, Vas and I will be there for you the whole day.”

“And you’ll take the blame if it goes horrifically wrong?”

“What? That wasn’t part of the agreement.”

“It is if you want me to actually agree this time.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lucy finally nodded. “Alright, Danvers, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Fine,” Alex sighed, resigning herself to her fate. If nothing else, it would at least provide her with stories for years to come (and, if she were lucky, maybe even get her disinvited from future family holidays).

“Perfect, she’ll pick you up at 3.”

“Wait, you gave her my address?”

“Love ya too, Alex!” Lucy yelled, grabbing for her coat and making for the entrance before Alex could change her mind yet again.

—

2:50pm on Thanksgiving found Alex pacing back and forth in the lobby of her building. She hadn’t even wanted this woman—Maggie, apparently—to know where she lived, but since Lucy had already given up that information she was at least going to keep her from getting all the way up to her apartment. A ping from her phone finally drew her attention away from the door.

“Almost here. Is family there? Should I be a real dick and honk from the street?”

Smiling in spite of herself, Alex sent back: “No, just me. I’ll come outside.” Her smile soon vanished and her jaw dropped when she caught sight of Maggie’s truck rolling down her street. True to her word (though Alex might have conveniently forgotten that detail), it was emblazoned with a pair of women’s legs that morphed into scissors, a beam of light refracting through it and splitting off into a rainbow Pink Floyd-style.

“Your chariot awaits, m’lady!” the woman yelled after cranking down her windows, a smirk adorning her face that brought out dimples Alex might have fallen for if she didn’t know they belonged to some weirdo who would advertise her services on Craigslist.

With a nod and grunt of acknowledgment, Alex pulled herself up into the truck, rolling the window back up before turning to face her “girlfriend” for the day.

“So…you always this quiet?” Maggie asked, peeking over at Alex as they crawled their way through holiday traffic.

“No.”

“Cool, cool.” Eventually, tired of the quiet, Maggie spoke up again. “Anything you want me to do or not do today? Who all will be there?”

“Mom—Eliza. My sister Kara—technically foster sister, though she’s obviously the favorite child. Her jackass boyfriend, Mike, and her best friend Winn. I don’t think James is coming this year. Then Lucy and her girlfriend Vasquez.”

“Ah, yes, Lucy’s the one who wrote to me for you!”

“Mm, the very one,” Alex grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at the traffic as though the sheer force of her glare could make it move faster.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why did you do this? You seem kinda…miserable about the whole ordeal.”

“Lucy.”

“If you’re really not up for it, I can just drop you off and head back home. I mean, okay, yeah, I don’t get my Thanksgiving meal, but I’m not gonna force my delightful company on you.”

“Thanks.” Maggie couldn’t help but notice it was the first time Alex had sounded sincere, and she almost seemed to relax—not quite, but a little. “I’m okay though.”

“Alright, well, you’ve got until the front door to make that decision.”

“No, no. You were promised a Thanksgiving meal, and you’ll get one.” She’d even warned Kara to cook the turkey beforehand lest she accidentally out herself as an alien to yet another person.

“Well, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Alex dismissed the thanks with a shrug and a wave of her hand.

“So, what’s our deal for the day?”

“Oh, um, maybe we’ve been dating for a couple of months—wasn’t super serious at first and didn’t want to say anything just yet?”

“Okay, that works. So no proposal?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Roger that. Now, do you want me to be a total d-bag? Hit on your sister?”

“No! No, there’s no need to remind mom just how much better Kara is than me at everything, including, apparently, attracting my fake girlfriend’s attention.”

Maggie cocked her head to the side, wondering how in the world the gorgeous woman sitting next to her thought she would ever fail to hold someone’s attention. Sure, she could be a little bit of an ass, according to Lucy, but who wasn’t?

“Okay, so, eyes on you and only you. Want me to talk politics? Religion? My former conviction? My lack of career mobility?”

“I don’t know,” Alex sighed, rubbing at her temples and trying to remember why she had agreed to this. Perhaps she thought this woman might deflect attention away from her—be so unsuccessful that Alex’s failure to become a proper medical doctor might be overlooked for a change, be so unappealing as a date that her mom would stop pushing her into relationships, figuring singledom was better than the lowlifes Alex picked up. But this woman was…not quite what she had expected. Sure, she was loud and a little brash—and her pickup truck took both of those to the extreme—but she also seemed fairly considerate, and she was cuter than Alex had expected all dressed up in her holigay best plaid.

“How about we play it by ear? I’m very good at reading people, I’ll have you know.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. For instance you are feeling very stressed and wondering why you got into my truck and why you’re bringing some internet stranger to Thanksgiving dinner. I’d put money on the fact that you’re already thinking about how much you’ll regret it and planning ways to exact some revenge on Lucy.”

Alex just pursed her lips, unwilling to admit that it was all rather true.

Grinning at Alex’s silence, which she took as confirmation, Maggie pushed her luck. “Now you’re wondering, ‘However did she get so good at reading people?’ And how is such a gorgeous woman still single, without a line of women to go home with for the holidays.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“She speaks!” Maggie crowed, cackling at the scowl directed her way. “C’mon the whole point of this stunt is to have some fun. Family holidays suck more than just about anything. And this is my irreverent way of saying fuck you to the whole ordeal. Everyone knows the holidays are all about pushing your dirty laundry and your box of vibrators deep into the closet and pretending like you don’t hate each other and everything your conservative uncles stand for while you eat until you can’t taste the bitterness of regret for your life choices anymore, right?”

“That got really bleak, really fast.”

“It’s dark humor, get used to it.”

“Remind me where the joke is.”

“Because you’ll know that everything about today is fake. Having the fake girlfriend there just helps remind you that everyone else’s perfection is a big goddam charade too.”

Alex made a vague noise, still unsure about how she felt about all of this. Rather than contemplate any longer, she turned to Maggie. “So, tell me something about you.”

“Not like I know that much about you.”

“I’m a scientist; that’s all you need to know.” It wasn’t totally true, but it would be fine.

“I doubt it.”

“I like whiskey. And dogs, not that I have time for one. I’m a scientist, not the doctor my mother hoped for. Better?”

“A little. I prefer scotch myself on the rare occasion I splurge. Dogs are clearly superior to cats, so we’re in agreement there for our future dog, ya know, even though it’s only been a couple of months. And I hate doctors, so it’s better this way.”

“All doctors?”

“Doctors, dentists, orthodontists—all the sadists, ya know.”

“Mm, right, right.”

“Yep. So, according to Lucy’s directions, we’re getting close. Any last minute instructions or questions?”

“Uh…no?”

“You don’t sound so certain.”

“Sorry, I just, I hate family things. I know in theory that she loves me, but I just—god, I can’t do another one.”

“Want me to take you home? You can blame me—tell her I let my car insurance expire or something and we got pulled over. Or I got sent to prison again.”

“That’s sweet,” Alex said, “but no, I need to go.”

“Well, at least this year you have an ex-con on your arm.”

“Speak of which…what did you do?”

“Honest answer or the fun answer?”

“Why aren’t they the same?”

“Because it’s more fun for me if I let you think I killed a man and gave all of his money to charitable causes like a veritable 21st century Robin Hood.”

“So you didn’t kill a man?”

“Tragically, no.”

“You gonna tell me what you did?”

“Protesting mainly. So disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, that kind of shit. Not like I’ve got any felonies on the record. But I can if you want to freak out your mom. Or your sister’s boyfriend.”

“Well, if you don’t mind risking another arrest, by all means, please feel free to punch him in the face.”

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“Yikes.”

Alex just nodded, wrapping her head around the slightly different image of Maggie that was emerging as she learned more and more about the woman. Of course, nothing excused the fact that she was in a tacky pickup truck—not even the dimples and the charm and the deep misanthropy that rivaled her own.

“We’re here,” Alex murmured, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the inevitable shitshow.

—

“Alex!” Kara squealed, pulling her sister into a big hug like she hadn’t seen her just yesterday.

“Hey, Kara,” Alex laughed, squeezing her once before pulling back. “Maggie, this is my sister Kara. Kara, this is my girlfriend Maggie.”

The theatrical wink Kara shot in her direction had Alex ready to drop her head into her hands, but as her mom strolled across the room she realized it was too late to back out now.

“Did you say girlfriend, Alexandra? Why haven’t I heard anything?”

“Mom, this is Maggie. Maggie, this is my mom, Eliza Danvers.”

“Very nice to meet you—”

“Eliza is fine,” Eliza interjected, sensing the hesitation. “Alex, is it too much to ask that you call me every once in a while? I shouldn’t have to find out about a partner only because I happened to be in town.”

“I’ll do better,” Alex sighed, setting her coat down as her eyes scanned the apartment, looking for where Kara had hidden the good whiskey.

“Well hello there,” Lucy greeted from the doorway, grinning broadly at the sight of Alex standing next to the mystery Craigslist woman looking beyond uncomfortable under Eliza’s scrutiny.

“Lucy! Vasquez!” Kara yelled, running forward to take the mashed potatoes and rolls from their hands.

“I’m beginning to think the excitement was for the food and not for us,” Lucy pouted.

“Aww, you know I love you both equally.”

Rolling her eyes, Lucy turned her attention to Maggie. “Hey, Maggie, how’s it going?”

“So your friends have not only heard about her but met her too?” Eliza asked pointedly.

“Oh, that’s my fault. I’m not always so great at meeting the parents, so I asked her to hold off on saying something.”

Alex tried not to look surprised at the way Maggie had been so quick to stand up for her, forcing herself to nod along with the sentiment while Eliza eyed her curiously.

“Hey, Lucy,” Maggie waved, hoping to break the tension—or, better yet, ignore it entirely.

“This is Vasquez,” Lucy introduced, kicking the door shut behind them as they finally made their way into the apartment. “She really enjoyed your pickup truck—helps the neighborhood aesthetic so much,” Lucy teased.

Figuring Lucy could deal with Maggie now, Alex made her way into the kitchen to find the wine, already anticipating her mother’s comments about how much “fun” she was having.

“She’s cuter than I expected,” Kara whispered, cutting in with a glass before Alex could abscond with the whole bottle.

Alex let out a noncommittal noise while focusing her attention on pouring herself a generous glass.

“I’m just saying—it’s been a while since you dated anyone…”

“I am not going to pick someone up off of Craigslist,” Alex hissed, shaking her head and finally taking a sip of the wine she’d been eying since they walked in the door. “Much better. Now you can deal with mom and the ‘best pie in the galaxy’ while I go have an intimate moment alone with a glass of red.”

“Why don’t you wait for dinner to start drinking, Alex,” came Eliza’s voice. Alex gritted her teeth as she spun around.

“I was under the impression that dinner would be starting soon.”

“Mike’s just running a little late,” Kara explained, shooting Alex an apologetic glance as she made her way back toward the oven where they were keeping the turkey hot.

“So let’s wait to have your fun until then, hmm?”

“Aww, we always have fun, don’t we, babe,” Maggie chimed in, throwing an arm around Alex’s waist and beaming at her as though she hadn’t just stepped into the first of many tense moments to come between mother and daughter. Then again, Alex realized, she had signed up for exactly that. “C’mon, why don’t you give me the grand tour?”

“Yeah, okay,” Alex shrugged, letting herself be guided away from the kitchen and into the living room where Winn and Vasquez had set up some multi-player video game and were currently shoving at each other as they competed both in and out of the game.

“Um, this is the living room…” Alex gestured awkwardly around them before guiding Maggie off to the side. “There’s the bathroom. And through here is Kara’s bedroom.”

“It’s a nice room,” Maggie declared loudly, chuckling at Alex’s startled expression. “Gotta make sure everyone knows we’re just doing a tour, not sneaking off to fuck, ya know.”

Alex glared and shushed Maggie. “Why would anyone think that?”

“Um, cause we’re dating. And it’s boring. And there’s a bed right there.”

“And a room full of people right out there!”

“You hired me to piss off your mom or be the asshole that makes you look good. Do you really have room to judge?”

“Ugh, stop reminding me of what a failure I am.”

“Hey, no, I don’t think you’re a failure at all—that’s not what I said. In fact, I bet you’re anything but. You’re pretty, and you’ve gotta be smart and driven to be a scientist. Your sister looks at you like you’re her goddam hero. And you had a friend concerned enough about your well-being to reach out to some stranger on the internet and subject me to a rather thorough vetting before sending me your address.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Lucy and Vasquez double-teamed me for some interrogation thing. I mean…I won’t lie, it was kinda hot. But also I felt like if I didn’t pass I maybe would’ve disappeared without a trace. I don’t know why, but I feel like they could do that…”

Alex shrugged; she wasn’t wrong. “How’d you get all of that in just a few moments?”

“I’m a bartender. I read people for a living.”

“I guess…”

“So, why don’t you fill in the details I missed?”

“Um, Kara works for CatCo as Cat Grant’s assistant.” Maggie whistled, looking impressed. “My mom’s a scientist as well, Dr. Danvers. So was my dad.”

“Divorce?” Maggie asked.

“Um, no, he died when I was younger.”

“Fuck, Alex, I’m sorry—I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. Not caring about family is your whole schtick, right?”

“Not caring about my family is my thing. That’s—that’s different.”

“What happened to the whole families suck act from the truck?” Alex teased, trying to move away from the topic of her dad.

“Ah, well, most years I’ve done this, I’ve gone to families as shitty as mine. Sometimes with shitty people as my fake date too, so there’s that.”

“So how do I compare?”

“Significantly less shitty. I mean, your mom’s a little judge-y, but she did pull me aside to ask what my intentions were with you, so she clearly cares.”

“Got a funny way of showing it,” Alex snorted.

“Yeah, but at least she’s showing it at all.”

“What’s the deal with your family?” Alex asked, suddenly curious.

“I don’t have one. Got an aunt I go visit when I can afford it, but otherwise it’s just me.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Better off without them.” Seeing the clench to Maggie’s jaw, Alex didn’t push the issue, though she couldn’t help the instinctive anger she felt toward whatever kind of person had left the woman that jaded. She might not get along with her mother, but at the end of the day, at least she knew she was loved, even if it never seemed to come in the way she needed it.

A loud knock on the door pulled their attention away, and Alex sighed loudly as Mike waltzed in, pulling Kara in for a kiss that just seemed inappropriate in front of their friends, but Eliza looked pleased enough to see Kara giggling, so of course now it would be acceptable.

“The boyfriend?” Maggie checked.

“Yep.”

“Should we have put on a show like that?”

“What happened to platonic only?”

“That’s the rule. But I already dislike him enough that I think I could make an exception for a bit of one-upsmanship.”

Alex snickered. “You’re not so bad, you know that?”

“High praise.”

—

The group eventually settled into dinner after an awkward round of toasts that included Mike speaking at great length about what an excellent person he’d become knowing Kara, Alex refusing to speak, Kara attempting to keep the peace, and Maggie giving an effusive speech about how perfect Alex was, including the line: “Best yet, not only is she smokin’ hot, but she’s also really fucking smart,” that had Lucy choking on her wine as she let out a bark of a laugh.

“So, Mark, tell me about yourself,” Maggie said, turning to look at him.

“It’s Mike.”

“Right.”

“Um, I work as an intern at CatCo.”

“Hey, look, babe! Maggie called, patting at Alex’s hand. “I’m not the least impressive person at the table anymore! At least I have a salary!”

“I will have a salary,” Mike protested.

“Yeah, yeah, Matt, whatever you say.”

“It’s not Matt.”

“Right, sorry! Mark—I’ve got it now. Locked in my memory—good as a vault. Mark. Mark, Mark, Mark.” Kara glared. Vasquez bit back a laugh. Lucy snorted into her wine. And Alex slung an arm around the back of Maggie’s chair, thinking this might just be the best idea Lucy ever had. She was definitely enjoying Thanksgiving more than she ever thought was possible.

“So, Mark the intern, tell me more.”

Looking over to Kara for guidance, Mike finally turned back and rolled with it. “Well, I work with Kara.”

“Are you her intern?”

“No, I am not.”

“Gotcha. So is that how you met Kara.”

“Why don’t we talk about you instead,” Kara chimed in, glaring at Alex. She’d been willing to play along but didn’t need to see her boyfriend being attacked all dinner.

“Ah, yes, well, I’m a bartender.”

Kara looked at her expectantly, but Maggie just smiled.

“So how did you two meet?” Mike asked, glad to have the attention off of himself.

“Do you want to tell it or should I, babe?” Maggie asked, looking over at Alex. The panicked glance she got in return was all the answer she needed. “I’ll tell it this time. So, it’s a funny story, right. Cause the first time I see her isn’t quite how we started dating. But I’m driving downtown, and I see this one walking down the sidewalk looking fine as hell in a leather jacket. And I swear, I nearly rear-ended the guy in front of me she had me so love-struck at first sight. But I managed to hit the brakes—couldn’t bear it if something had happened to Gertie—that’s my truck, in case you didn’t get that. She’s a real beauty; you’ll all have to come see her before the night’s over. Anyhow, she probably could’ve survived the crash—really, I could probably hit pretty much anything and you’d never know it. Not that I do,” she added with an exaggerated wink. Alex finished her glass of wine, nearly tipping it completely upside down, while Vasquez dug her nails into Lucy’s thigh to keep her from bursting out in laughter.

“Anyway, I see that she’s going to this coffee shop, so I start popping in just in case—and boom, like an angel, she appears.” But as Maggie got ready to reach the high point of her story—it was gonna be a good one, she could just feel it—a bright flash appeared in the living room, bringing with it a new person, though Alex would bet money he wasn’t human.

Within a moment, the majority of the room had produced guns, batons, and knives from nowhere and stood at the ready, weapons drawn, badges held high, and questions on their lips.

“I come in peace!” the creature yelled, looking beyond intimidated at the less than warm welcome. “But I bring a warning for Kara Zor-El, daughter of Krypton.”

As he turned to look at Kara, Alex swore under her breath, realizing she’d now have to get some random stranger willing to trade fake-dating services for free food on Craigslist to sign extensive nondisclosure agreements. But when she turned she found the woman pointing a gun and holding up a badge of her own.

“NCPD?” Alex hissed, while Kara and Mike moved with the visitor to the living room.

“Well who the hell is gonna let a Craigslist cop crash their Thanksgiving? That sounds like a sting operation if I’ve ever heard one. Besides, you’re not exactly the scientist you told me you were,” Maggie added, gesturing at the baton Alex had pulled from somewhere—where she was keeping it in jeans that skinny, she didn’t even want to guess.

“You’re gonna have some paperwork to fill out,” Alex grumbled.

“Is that about your sister being Supergirl?”

“How in the fuck—?”

“I’m a detective; I detect.”

“So you’re not just a bartender that’s great at reading people?”

“Nah, that was my gig in college, though, if it makes you feel any better.”

“It does not.”

“Fair enough. Anyway, if I’m gonna have to do paperwork, can I at least bring some of this dessert to go? I was promised a free meal…”

[sidhewrites]

The Prince in the Wood, Part 7

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part Six.  Part Seven. Part 8 (Finale).

Approx. 1500 words.

Content warning for mentions of food.

Mary didn’t come down until late. I went up the stairs to get ready for bed, and she slipped out of the bedroom right as I opened the door.

“Hey, I--” I started, but she didn’t even look my way, padding across the hallway and down to the kitchen. No doubt she was trying to avoid me, and it took some effort not to simply follow her down and demand she speak to me. 

Instead, I showered and changed into pyjamas. At some point a door outside the bathroom open and shut. By the time I came out, Mary had shut off the lights in the room and climbed back into bed facing the wall. The university blanket was still untouched.

“I’m exhausted,” I tried, but didn’t expect a response. After a moment, I padded over to the window to look out over the yard. It was nearly black save for the few patches of light escaping from the windows downstairs. “It’s so stuffy in here. Makes me think of that time I got locked into a practise room in the music building. Did I ever tell you that story?”

Nothing.

“You should have seen the campus in October,” I try. “Pumpkins everywhere. The dean dressed up like a fairy princess, complete with magic wand. You’d have loved it.”

I waited. Still nothing.

“You’re not good at pretending to sleep, you know.” I lifted a hand to the window. “Maybe I should--”

There was a rustling behind me. My hand had barely touched the glass, and I turned to see Mary sitting upright, eyes wide and boring into me. They reflected strangely in the low light, almost like a cat’s. Almost.

“Good morning,” I tried.

She said nothing. For a moment, neither did I. But as soon as I dropped my hand and stepped towards her, she looked away. The light in her eyes faded, and she lay back down.

“And good night,” I muttered, and climbed into bed myself.

#

For the first time in years, sleep did not come easily to me in this bedroom. I tossed and turned all night, occasionally sitting up to look over at Mary or out the window. At some point in the night, she turned over onto her back, eyes shut and breathing slowly. Sometime around midnight, our dads shut the lights off downstairs and came up to get ready for bed themselves, but I couldn’t make out their hushed conversation through the walls.

At some point, though, I managed to doze off, only to be woken up by the smell of eggs frying downstairs. I all but leapt out of bed, thrilled for my first proper breakfast that wasn’t from a cafeteria production line -- and stopped.

“Mary?”

She stood at the window, a hand resting on the latch. 

“Hey, how long were you standing there for?” I made my way over, hesitating before reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched, and turned around, wide-eyed and apparently only just now waking up. Her shock dissipated quickly as she recognised me, only to be replaced by frustration and another emotion I couldn’t quite read as she shrugged me off and climbed back into bed.

“Hey, don’t be like that. Dad’s making omelettes, I think. I smell onions.”

She stiffened. Then, reluctantly, she sat up again, and made her way out of the room without waiting for me. I followed anyway, and we sat at the table together. 

Our dads seemed surprised to see us arrive together, but not at all upset. Pop set the newspaper aside and sat at the table with a smile as he asked, “You girls get up to anything dangerous last night?”

Mary shrugged.

I snorted. “What does that even mean?”

Pop waved a hand at us. “Oh, you know how it is. A college student can be a dangerous influence on those around her, you know.

“I don’t know what that means either.”

Mary glanced at me with a hint of disbelief, but quickly turned her attention back to a knot in the wood of the table. 

Dad stepped out of the kitchen with a plate full of omelettes and garnishes. “What’s the plan for Thursday, then? Kathy’s not doing her potluck this year, so we can do whatever you want.”

“What’s up with Kathy?” I asked.

“She rented a log cabin in the mountains for the week.”

Pop shuddered. “Imagine wanting to go to the snow.”

Dad laughed and kissed his head. “Maybe if you ever stop being a baby, I could.”

They laughed, and we spent breakfast floating around ideas for Thanksgiving dinner. 

The day was spent running errands together, though Mary asked to spend much of the time in the car. She still barely looked at me, and only spoke when she absolutely had to. The way our dads reacted to it, though, it seemed that the fact that she’d gone outside at all was something to be happy for.

It was only mid afternoon by the time we got back, but the lack of sleep was catching up to me. Pop headed for the backyard to tend to the rose bushes, Mary in tow, so I took the opportunity to nap. I was wide awake in time for dinner, which Mary didn’t join us for, and I tossed and turned that night as well.

Dad went off to work that morning. Pop was going to make for the garden, but stopped when he saw me reaching for my shoes.

“Where are you off to?” he asked.

“Just a walk. Not too far, though. I’ll be home before dark.”

“You should take Mary with you. I’m sure she could do with the exercise.”

I hesitated, caught between the idea of wanting to make Mary like me again, and not wanting to face the certainty that a single walk would be of much use.

Still, I nodded, and turned to head up the stairs to get my sister.

She was already there, standing at the top of the stairs and looking down at me with those haunted eyes. I made myself smile and gestured vaguely. “Wanna come? I’m just going around the block, I think.”

Mary walked down silently and slipped on a pair of sandals.

The walk went no better than expected. I avoided mentioning the promise I’d made to her.  I asked questions and pretended to wait for an answer that wouldn’t come. I told her stories about Shannon and the things we did together.

“Oh -- we should play that one game together, actually. I think you’d like it. Maybe we could see if someone in the neighborhood has a console we can borrow.”

Nothing. 

The next few days continued in much the same way, but I lost my patience by Thursday. After three days straight of nothing but silence, I cornered my sister in the bedroom that afternoon by throwing the blankets off her and leaning over her.

“What do you want me to say?” I demanded. “I’m sorry -- I’m sorry, okay? I know I broke my promise. I know I’m an asshole. Is that what you want to hear? That I’m horrible for wanting to have a life outside of you?”

She clenched her jaw, but didn’t say anything. Only looked away towards the wall.

“Look at you, little sweet perfect, Mary, always delicate and having to be taken care of. Nobody is allowed to be happy around you, because you’re not allowed to go running through the woods like some fairy princess, right? Everyone has to be miserable because your stupid prince isn’t real!”

I saw her body stiffen, and a spiteful glee rose up in my chest.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot we aren’t supposed to say that around you. We’re supposed to pretend you haven’t been coming up with stories all your life for attention, because you never learned how to make friends. So you make them up, right? You pretend you have something interesting about your life, so you don’t have to admit that you’re just a miserable, codependent person who can’t stand that other people want to grow up!”

She buried her face in the pillow.

Before I could say more, the front door opened and shut. The smell of fast food takeout -- our chosen Thanksgiving dinner -- rose up to the bedroom, and our dads chatted together as they walked to the kitchen.

Besides me, Mary sniffed.

All at once, my anger melted. Guilt rose up and dragged me down to the floor, where I felt everything fall apart.

After a long moment, I made myself speak. “I’m sorry.” I meant it. “I know I promised to call. I just….I got caught up in everything. It’s not an excuse.” I sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Another pause. Pop called us down for dinner, and I pushed myself to my feet. “You don’t have to come downstairs tonight. I’ll tell them you’re asleep.”

Mary continued to sniffle as I pulled the blankets up off the floor and arranged them over her.

“Want me to bring you some cake?” 

Somewhere from within the folds of the bed covers came a muffled, mm-hmm."

“Can do.”

[sinkingorswimming]

The Cosplay AU I need a name for

(Previous parts found on my cosplay au tag!)

It’s maybe two weeks after Otakon when Yuuri checks his email. He has stuff from his school about prepping for the incoming school year and a message from his class President about a seniors only gathering at the Party Bridge near campus.

He also sees one, subject: HI! <3 from sender vmnikforov@gwu.edu.

Yuuri immediately slams his laptop closed.

He covers his mouth with his hands and squeaks. His best buddy (who is not human) comes bounding off his bed to his desk with concern. Vicchan, his reddish brown toy poodle (yes, named after guess who) is Yuuri’s favorite thing in the world. 

He gets his phone, opens the mail app. Right there in the inbox, marked unread. HI! <3, sender vmnikiforov@gwu.edu.

Yelping, Yuuri closes his eyes and opens the email like it’s a bomb.

Hi, Yuuri! This is Victor, from Otakon? I saw your email on your entry form---hope you don’t mind! Anyways, I have a project in mind for Katsucon in February, and I thought you might be interested in partnering up with me! I know you usually work with your friend, but this is a special idea I’ve had for forever and I feel like after seeing your work up close, you’re the perfect fit! 

If you’re able, I’d like to get together soon to begin discussion---it’s going to be tricky to source some of the materials, especially the lace! Can we meet for dinner this weekend? Say, Saturday at six, The Source on Pennsylvania---it’ll be my treat!

Thanks, talk to you soon! <3

Victor

Yuuri screams. He’s home alone---his mom is at her book club with her old friend, Minako, his dad is golfing at Lansdowne, and his sister is away for the week with her college friends---so he doesn’t need to come up with a lie about the reason for the screams.

He calls number three on his favorites, though.

“Hey, this is Phichit,” he answers on ring #2.

“Oh my God,” Yuuri cries. “Oh my God, he wants a costume, me, us, a pair---oh my God.”

“...What?” Phichit answers.

“VICTOR EFFING NIKIFOROV WANTS TO DO A PAIR COSPLAY WITH ME,” Yuuri shouts.

“Holy shit,” Phichit replies.

“Right?” Yuuri tries to slow his heart. “What do I say? I don’t...it’s not you, it’s a pairs thing, I don’t---”

“Okay, whoa, stop,” Phichit replies. “You are not contractually obligated to only ever cosplay with me. You can do a thing with him, I’m not offended as long as you don’t completely abandon our partnership. I’ll probably do that Bleach outfit you have no interest in, it’s fine! Do the thing!”

“You sure?” Yuuri says.

“Yeah, but I’ll need your help,” Phichit says. “I can sculpt the actual Bankai stuff myself, but sewing the uniform is a little above my pay grade.”

“No problem,” Yuuri says with a sheepish grin. “Okay. Um---I better email him back. Thanks, Phichit. You’re a peach.”

“Yup, sure am!” Phichit laughs. “Talk to you later---my mom needs help with the pool.”

“Can I come swim later?” Yuuri asks.

“Yup! Leo and Guang-Hong are coming, Seung Gil maybe too. I’ll text you a time. Later, skater.” Phichit hangs up.

Yuuri reopens his computer like it’ll bite his hand off. 

Hi, Victor,

I’d love to meet with you! I’ll google the address and take the Metro. My cell is 571-585-1090 if you need to change plans or are running late. 

See you Saturday!

Yuuri

It’s Thursday. He can...be cool for two days.

Actually, no he couldn’t, as was evidenced by his mother on Friday night during their evening ritual of Catan begging him to try to stay still. He did not. Therefore his dad made him forfeit his sheep. 

Catan is an equilizer in the Katsuki household.

Yuuri can’t sleep, his nerves buzzing too much even though he played white noise through the headphones in his iPhone. Did nothing. Vicchan slept like everything was normal. 

Yuuri gets up way too early, obsesses way too long over his clothing, finally deciding he was as good as he can get, drives to the Silver Line, and begins the trek to the District. He gets off at the correct stop, walks to the restauant, and immediately regretts all of his choices up until that moment including being born. 

He is in a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It’d a Wolfgang Puck dim sum restaurant. Oh no why, Victor will think he lacks culture.

“Yuuuuuri!” calls a happy, familiar voice. 

Yuuri starts and his eyes go wide. 

Victor stands before him in a linen dress shirt and a pair of salmon colored pants. His hair and skin are flawless. His eyes are beautiful. Yuuri’s heart stops and restarts. “Hi,” he manages. The shyness comes to the forefront. He wants---he isn’t sure, but...it’s something more than a hello.

He gets a hug. Victor grabs him like they’re old friends, and Yuuri hesitates but hugs him back. He pauses and takes a moment to inhale his scent---it’s not that shitty sandwalwood the douchebags at his school wear, it’s lighter...like lemon balm. 

Victor keeps a hand low on his waist as he steers him to request a table. They get a cute one for two like it’s a date. (Is it a date? Did Victor mean this as a date? Thirteen year old Yuuri will die of joy if it’s a date. It in no way can be a date.)

Victor smiles, looking like Yuuri just gave him a rainbow. “I’m glad you came,” he says.

Yuuri chokes on his water. “Uh, thanks? Um...me too.”

Victor grins. “I guess I should get down to business first. Unfortunately, it has to come before...pleasure.” 

Yuuri pushes up his eyeglasses. He nods. 

Victor pulls up an image on his phone, passing it to Yuuri. Yuuri peers down at it---it’s an elaborate fanart of Fuuma and Kamui from X/1999. They have very detailed wings, there’s obvious hand beading and embroidery on their outfits, and they’re perfectly tailored. Fuuma is in white, Kamui black, and there are red ribbons cascading off both of them. “Red string of fate,” Yuuri says out loud. 

“You spotted that,” Victor replies with a grin.

“I’ll have to get help from Phichit on the wings, I’ve never done them on my own,” Yuuri continues. 

“I have, that I can handle,” Victor says. “It’s more how finely tailored the outfits are. My tailoring is always a bit weak, so I tend to do costumes that don’t have quite such an emphasis. I have access to embroidery machines on campus, so I can have you come up to work on those. It’ll be more expedient.”

“The beading I can do in class, the home ec department is out of stuff to teach me so they just let me bring in my projects,” Yuuri admits. 

Victor gives him a look. “Wow,” he says. “And you’re...just in...high school.”

“Hm, well I turn eighteen Thanksgiving day this year,” Yuuri says. “I need to figure out college stuff soon, as a matter of fact.”

“You should come here!” Victor blurts.

Yuuri starts and looks up. “Um...”

“The Corocoran,” Victor clears up with a blush on his cheeks. “They have a production focus in their Theater program. You could...major in costuming? It’s...well, it’s an idea.”

Hm. 

“Phichit’s applying there,” Yuuri says as he zooms back in on the image. CLAMP and their Christian idolatry, yikes. “He’s going into the fine arts. I guess I could think about it.”

“I just think it’d be nice to have you around school with me,” Victor says. His finger glides over the rim of his glass in a slow pattern. “Chris Giacometti is in the photography department, but...I’d like seeing you every day too. Just think about it.”

Yuuri meets his eyes and...no, he’s imagining it. He clears his throat. “You want to make these for Katsucon?” 

“Mmhmm,” Victor says. He ordered them the duck, and it arrives, smelling crisp and mouth-watering. Yuuri is starving, he realizes. He looks at Victor again, this gorgeous guy even out of cosplay and make up and Photoshop and he---

He blushes and focuses on his dinner.

Victor chats the whole time, Yuuri chiming in where appropriate. When they finish and Victor pays as promised, he takes him on a walk. It’s late enough the murky, humid swampland that is DC has become manageable to walk around, and it’s not even ten minutes to the Mall from the restaurant. 

Yuuri mostly sees shots of the Tidal Basin at night from the end credits of his favorite local news program, but Victor escorts him there with a hand on his back as he extols the virtues of his university as well as his skills at sewing. Yuuri listens and smiles with pink cheeks, telling Victor about what he likes to do besides cosplay---video games with his friends, late nights at the Amphora diner in Reston, checking out Starland in Annandale. 

Victor opens up about his parents---his father a supervisor for a lab at Langley, his mom in the State Department, his dog Makkachin who he moved off campus into a pet-allowing studio as quickly as possible to keep by his side, how he misses the local chain called Another Universe and how he’s considering Dragoncon next year to branch out into film and American comics costumin.

They both marvel at how many times they’ve come to the annual Sakura Matsuri in their very spot at this moment and somehow never met.

The lights are pretty, the stars reflect in the water like sequins embellishing a black velvet gown, and Yuuri with all his heart longs for this to be a date. 

He’s imagining it---but some moments, it looks like Victor feels the same.

They head back to the Metro by the Newseum---Victor to GWU, Yuuri to Tysons. “Let’s do again this soon,” Victor says.”We can meet at G Street, see what our local options are, and head to my apartment for more planning.”

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. Victor’s apartment, he exalts in his head.

“Ah, Yuuri---” Victor adds. “I have a Gaylord room for Katsu, a nice one with a view. Would you like a spot in it? There’s room for one more.”

“Oh um---” Yuuri stumbles. He’s never stayed overnight at a con before, but he’ll be 18 then. His mom and dad can’t refuse, though they’d probably want to meet Victor for reassurance.“Yes.”

“Okay,” Victor says, his smile shaped like a big heart. “Talk to you soon! I’ll text!”

“See you,” Yuuri says.

They part ways, and Yuuri can’t sleep for the second night in a row, his heart pounds so hard as his smile threatens to split his face.