#I had caesar salad today. as celebration

[compressednerve]

Parasite and I made it to North Milwaukee btw, last night at 2:03am. I had a few meltdowns over the week at the prospect of having to drive the uhaul at night, because my eyesight is shit, but it turned out all ok :) I even actually enjoyed navigating the roads in my big ol Bessie, I felt like I was gliding free and fast on the highways.

It's been a grueling past couple weeks, especially the past few days, because we moved probably around 70 boxes of all our belongings that we've accumulated over the past 6+yrs together all by ourselves down two flights of stairs, in the 90 degree heat n humidity. Plenty of meltdowns to be had from both of us. We're both disabled, and we were doing this on a shoestring budget of good graces and meager savings. Today we finally got a windfall in the shape of a very cheap mover who helped out immensely. Tomorrow, we take the uhaul back and finally can begin to relax.

Pictured: our first meal in the apartment together (followed by chicken bacon ranch mac n cheese that was still in the oven when I took the pic) Parasite had the caesar salad and I had the chef salad; a firefly on the bedroom window that I saw light up exactly once; the ceiling of a rest stop I pulled over at last night for potty break and stretch my legs; and our ashtray from our previous apartment that hadn't been touched since probably last October.

...I don't experience pleasure or happiness very much in my life... Anhedonia is just a part of who I am. I try not to let my hopes get up too high about any one thing, because I'm usually disappointed. But this move... working together with my love to try to achieve something great, something that will make both our lives better ... It has filled me with a joy so bright and immense I start tearing up from how overwhelmed I am with it.

Next week is Parasite's 28th birthday and I can't wait to celebrate it 🫂❤️‍🔥

[jentucker]

Tagged by the lovely @justafoxhound

Relationship status: Celebrating our 10 year anniversary today!

Favourite colour: Blue!

song stuck in my head: Elisapie - Taimangalimaaq (Time After Time)

Three favourite foods: Caesar salad, liver and onions, and popcorn (but not all at the same time)

last thing I googled: "recovery period dislocated knee dogs" My pup dislocated his knee, had x-rays today, and is being referred to a specialist. Fingers crossed he doesn't need surgery

Dream trip: Cross-country skiing in Norway. I'm out of shape, I haven't skied since the 90s, but this is the dream.

Anything i want right now: Money to pay my dog's vet bills. Also a sense of purpose and well-being in life. Also a summer home in Antarctica.

[thisislizheather]

An Ode To Caesar Salad

The caesar salad turns 100 today! I would have never guessed that it was invented in Tijuana, Mexico. How have I not visited its birthplace? Seems very un-me.

In celebration of today, I made the Canyon Creek caesar dressing that I got from one of their waiters before the chain closed in 2022. (I may or may not carry this piece of paper in my wallet alongside photos of my loved ones.)

Above Photo: Canyon Creek caesar dressing recipe

It doesn’t taste exactly the same, but I’ve been making slight adjustments each time I make it. For example, it needs way more than one garlic clove (I’d suggest four or five depending on how large they are). And you have to added shaved parmesan to the final salad. And obviously, you need to make your own croutons (it’s 2024, bagged croutons should embarrass you). Here’s the kale version I made earlier today (forgive the lack of cheese).

Above Photo: Kale was all I had, don’t judge

I wish I remembered the very first time I tried this salad - I’m sure that I was at dinner with my parents. Whenever they’d take me anywhere fancy as a child, I would always get a caesar salad or a shrimp cocktail since those were the two least intimidating items to my kid eyes.

The caesar at Canyon Creek remains my favourite version, but I’ve absolutely had other great ones. The Nordstrom one is fantastic, love the Rubirosa one for the parmesan croutons. I am dying to try the ones at Hillstone and The Fly. It’s surprising that I don’t make it more at home, but that’s probably because I love eating new ones and searching for a new favourite. That being said, I do make this How Sweet Eats dressing on a regular basis for Nathan.

Why don’t all recipes have birthdays? When the hell is steak Diane day? In any case, happy 100th birthday, my love. You continue to make our lives more delicious with each year.

[fluffykitteninabox]

My Stab Caesar salad celebration lunch (ft. my shigaraki glasses)

First we get some precut salad (because I'm too lazy to cut it myself, and also I live alone, so it would be a waste to buy an entire lettuce just for this)

Then we get some chicken (it's precooked because again I'm lazy, and also one time I didn't cook my meat properly, and I had an awful week, so I'm not risking it)

Then the most important ingredient! The Caesar dressing!

Also look at this giant knife for no reason 🔪🔪🔪 (I didn't buy it because it was expensive though 😔)

And last thing, birthday candles! I got this because it's also my mom's birthday today. She's not 23 obviously, but Caesar was stabbed 23 times, so I thought it would be funny 😂!!

Happy birthday mom and happy stabday Julius!!

[charlesoberonn]

Happy Ides of March 3/15! I had a Caesar salad yesterday and I’m going to have a Caesar salad today too

Never celebrated the Ides of March before.

Maybe I'll take a stab at it.

[tarlos-spain]

I'm working on something that maybe in the future becomes a real book. For the moment is a Tarlos AU. Thanks as usual to the people that are helping me. @lire-casander, for you notes and your ideas and @morganaspendragonss for helping me with the translation.

"You know he can talk to me about anything you need, right?" said Owen as the waiter served them the two plates of appetizers, a Caesar salad for TK and some asparagus for his father. "Even though I'm your manager and that of the entire group, I'm still your father."

"I know, I know, thank you." 

TK didn't bother to sound remotely excited by his father's words. He spent the day acting, pretending to be someone who really had nothing to do with himself. He wasn't going to do that at the farthest table away from the windows and door of the restaurant his father had chosen to dine at and try to make things right, always in his own way, of course.

"You say that like you don't believe it."

TK took advantage of the fact that his mouth was full to think hard about the words he wanted to say next.

"I know you're my father and I know you care about me and I know I can talk to you, though I also know that what I might say to you won't always go along with your way of doing things."

"My way of doing things?" laughed Owen; he thought TK was being ironic, but when he saw that his son remained serious, he too became serious. "What are you talking about? Wait, don't tell me you disappeared today from the rehearsal and meetings we had planned because of Ravi's engagement; is it that I should have talked to you before doing anything?"

"Dad, I assure you I think it's great that Ravi has found the love of his life and is getting married. But Ravi is gay, like me; Ravi has come out of the closet, as you have never let me do, and you are loudly celebrating an engagement that could have been mine if you had allowed me to be free."

As he spoke, TK's voice got louder and he had to hold on tightly to the table to keep from getting up and walking out. As he listened to him, Owen kept his eyes fixed on his son, whom he had never heard talk like this before.

"I'm gay, I've always been gay, Dad, but it didn't suit you to have a gay son when he was selling to teenage girls. While the girls are going crazy after me, it didn't do you any good to risk supporting me and helping me be happy."

"TK, son. It wasn't like that, I promise you."

"You told me to wait a few years. You forced me to spend my entire teenage years lying to those same fans who wrote me letters to tell me... you don't know how much it hurts to know you're lying to people who don't know you and tell you their lives and confess to you in an email or a letter because they think you're... Is it worth it, Dad?"

They continued to eat in silence for a while longer, TK barely looked up from his plate, a part of him hated those damn confrontations where, he was sure, he had nothing to gain.

That same part of him wanted to run away, because his father made him feel almost like a child again, a kid who didn't know how to stand up to his father, how to show him that he was an adult capable of making his own decisions.

When he had left that meeting arranged by Grace, he had promised himself to change, to do things differently at last and to start being honest. He had told himself that it was time to take charge of his life.

And then he had run into his father.

Things were always the same when it came to a conversation between father and son. Because the truth was that, in reality, Owen had been just his agent, his manager, his boss in a way, for many years. But his father, that protective figure, was little more than a memory in TK's life.

"Harsh words for your father, don't you think?"

TK let out a bitter laugh.

[avenirdelight]

Make You Feel Better

Dele

"Can you bring this to her room? And make sure she eats it. Oh, and this vitamin too," her mum said, shoving a plate of salad and a bottle of vitamin into Dele's hand. "If you want to take her out of the house, you have my permission, Dele. She could use some fun."

"Yes, ma'am," Dele said before going upstairs to her room. He knocked on her door and made his way inside. As he expected, she was laying on her bed facing the wall as she hugged Lulu, her beloved teddy bear.

"Excuse me, has anyone seen my girlfriend? She has been missing for two days," Dele announced his arrival as he sat and placed the plate on the bed. He tugged the edge of her sweatpants as he had not gotten her attention. "Hello?"

"She's not here," she mumbled. She had failed a test and it upset her very much because she had studied all week prior to the test. What annoyed her more was the fact that her score was just 2 points below the passing grade. Because of that, she had been locking herself in her bedroom and had started to make her mother worried. Dele had just gotten back from an away match so he could only see her now.

"Then who is this?" he tickled her foot, making her squirm.

"Someone who just failed her test so now her life is just messed up."

Dele scrunched his face, not looking pleased with her answer. "That's not true. It's just one test."

"Doesn't mean I can't be sad about it," she grumbled.

Dele sighed as he held on to her leg and started slightly massaging it, trying to get her to relax a little bit. "I know. I'm sorry that you didn't pass the test this time. But that only means you can study a little bit more and do it again, right? You're almost there."

"It still sucks," she said as buried her face into Lulu, letting out a small cry.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" he asked. She just answered with a shrug. "Well, how about we start with you eating this salad that your mum made? Then we can figure out what we'll do because I'm not letting you stay in this room any longer."

She finally sat up, still hugging Lulu. She noticed the plate full of chicken Caesar salad and her stomach growled. Dele couldn't help but chuckle hearing that. After eyeing the salad in silence, she finally grabbed the fork and took a bite.

"We can go out after this, you know. I mean, I scored a goal yesterday, we need to celebrate."

"Oh, right. Congratulations. The celebratory kisses and hugs need to wait because I obviously need to take a bath first and put on new clothes."

"Okay, you better hurry up. I can't wait too long for that," he said. And for the first time today, he finally saw her smile.

—

My Masterlist🤍

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 13

13/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: Christmas Eve 1994 | T | 5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3

As Scully copes with her diagnosis, Mulder joins her for the Scully family Christmas dinner. Plus, Melissa's girlfriend meets the family.

TW for disordered eating, cigarette smoking, references to abduction/medical rape.

-------------

Self destruction is a natural impulse for Dana Scully, though she’ll try to deny it. Take one unexplained abduction, add a dash of premature menopause, and sift out time spent proving Mulder wrong, and you’ll get a struggling Scully.

She can tell she’s entering a bad mental state when food becomes a suggestion rather than a necessity. Every bite is either earned according to whatever trivial rules she’s set for herself in that particular moment, or is not deserved and therefore not eaten. It’s a game where she’s the coach, player, and referee, yet she still loses every time. Nourishment is both prize and punishment, feeding her hunger but vacating her control.

This habit started when she was a teenager and wracked with feelings her petite frame couldn’t contain. It felt much safer than the route her siblings had taken of sneaking out in the middle of the night or using fake IDs to buy alcohol or skipping church on the regular. As far as fifteen-year-old her was concerned, she wasn’t bothering anyone by foregoing some meals. Her mother disagreed and called her out every time, humiliating her into her second coping mechanism, smoking.

There were the times when Scully was really young and enticed by her sister’s cigarettes, but that was simple preteen rebellion. What developed when Dana was seventeen was something different entirely. A survival mechanism with poison inside, snuffing herself out while keeping her alive and sane. She would walk to the gas station and buy packs of Marlboros with coins from her piggy bank. The laws were lax in the 80s, the prices too. She would blow rings of smoke while walking home, then hide the pack in her bra and swish some mouthwash. She’d repeat the process to and from school, steadily acquiring a nasty nicotine habit. It continued until the summer before college, when she made herself go cold turkey so as not to take the habit with her. As far as she knows, neither her parents nor any of her siblings ever knew about it.

It resurfaces in times of stress, though normally for no more than a single pack. Lately she’s accustomed to keeping a pack and a lighter with her at all times. Her building is smoke free so she steps outside, but her car is off limits because she doesn’t want the smell to cling to her. It is a hassle, but then again, so are most things.

Missy knows about the poor eating habits--those are hard to hide from someone who shares the same space as you. Nevermind the fact that the scale shows six less pounds than before, and that adds up when the number’s not that large to begin with. Scully’s edges protrude now...that can’t be hidden.

Missy never says a word. She remembers Dana complaining about their mother’s condescending comments about her weight, and she knows the damage that does to a young psyche. Instead, she offers. Healthy meals, guilty pleasure meals, all her sister’s favorites. She cooks more than she ever has before, well aware that her sister will struggle to refuse her.

“I recognize what you’re doing,” Missy told her sister when she tried to turn away a caesar salad, of all things. “I’ve been known to do that too,” Missy admitted. “Eat. You’re hungry, you just think not eating will give you some form of control over your body, or your life...but wasting yourself away is letting the bastards win.”

And so she did, that time at least. Scully has enough shame regarding her habit to push it aside whenever confronted---that’s how she insists to herself that it’s not an eating disorder. She can stop on command. That makes it okay, right?

Getting back into the office helped her a lot---you can’t starve yourself and function as an FBI agent. Besides, she would dissolve into thin air if Mulder figured out what she was doing. He was the one who batted around the idea of Scully helping prep each case and supervising any tests he might need the crime lab to do while he’s in the field. He understood that in lieu of therapy, she needed something to take her out of her own mind.

It was as much for him as it was her; at this point, it’s almost incomprehensible to him that the X-Files had existed before her. Of course he was the laughingstock of the FBI! He had huddled in the basement by himself with UFOs and blurry Bigfoot sightings pinned on the wall like a shrine to his own delusion.

Her fall from grace was his absolution. He’ll make an angel of her, somehow. Even if it means he has to meet the devil.

Scully has no interest in becoming an angel, though she’d sure like to avoid hell, and that hasn’t worked out too well. Locker room jokes are one thing. Underestimation another. But assault? Rape? Trauma and torture because she is who she is doing what she does? She is not a quitter, and that is killing her.

Her barrenness haunts her because it was bestowed upon her as punishment, an implication that she only has worth as a walking womb. She wants to be seen as a person, not a pawn.

The arrival of the holiday season is another weight on her shoulders. It used to be Scully’s favorite time of year; now the sight of carolers makes her want to poke her eyes out. It’s the first Christmas without her father, and that is simply unimaginable. Her and Missy spent a quiet Thanksgiving with their mother---small portions and whispered thanks--in preparation for an elaborate family Christmas. Bill Jr. and Tara are flying in from California for the annual Christmas dinner and midnight mass. They will all try to move forward, pretend it’s just like any other year, but it’s not and it never will be again. Happy Christmases are over for the Scully family.

And yet, they will try to enjoy the moment. Missy told her mom that she’s bringing a friend, which is completely true. Trinity is her closest friend that she doesn’t share blood with. That said, she plans to use the occasion to introduce Trinity as her girlfriend, come what may.

Then there was the suggestion that their mother made, which caught her youngest daughter completely off guard. “Why don’t you bring Fox?” Margaret Scully proposed demurely during their weekly phone call. “I’m making a zoo’s worth of food, I could use another mouth to feed. I hate to see any of it go to waste.”

“Mulder’s spending Christmas with his family, I’m sure,” Scully had replied. “But I’ll pass along the offer.”

That was how Scully learned that Mulder’s family isn’t much for celebration, that he usually spends the holiday flipping between It’s A Wonderful Life and the 24 hour marathon of A Christmas Story, and that he has a particular fascination with the idea of midnight mass.

“I just don’t get it,” Mulder mused. “You believe that a jolly old man with flying reindeer leaves presents in your house, but you think he waits until after you’ve gotten home from celebrating Baby Jesus’ birthday? Didn’t you ever look for his sleigh in the sky on the drive home?”

“No, Mulder,” Scully sighed. “I just believed that he knew when we were tucked in bed. Santa’s all-seeing, you know,” she teased.

Mulder chuckled. “Kind of presumptuous to assume he functions on your schedule, huh?”

Ultimately, Mulder said yes. He figured attending the Catholic equivalent of Jesus’ birthday party would be another check off his supernatural bucket list, though he did not say this part out loud for fear of Dana Scully’s wrath. Besides, what else was he gonna do on Christmas Eve? Shake the shoebox of junk he stuck under his mini-basketball hoop so he felt like he was getting a gift?

And so the fateful day arrives. Mulder flips his Garfield page-a-day calendar to December 24th, chuckles at the comic strip of the orange cat eating all his owner’s Christmas cookies, and makes his way to his partner’s increasingly familiar doorstep. The sun has already slipped behind the trees by the time he arrives. It gives up easily in the winter.

He rings the bell and hears Scully’s dainty footsteps on the other side. She’s snuck up on him enough times for him to have developed a keen sense of her light footing--no more jump scares for him.

“Hey Scully,” he stammers as she opens the door. She had told him to look “festive,” so he donned his nicest green sweater (a gift from his mom from J. Crew...he had never worn it) and slacks. Scully rounds out their show of holiday spirit with a velvet red blouse and black trousers.

“You look lovely,” Mulder says reflexively, unsure when he started using such a word. Scully pulls at her shirt, obscuring the bit of cleavage that has revealed itself. “Thanks Mulder,” she mutters, ushering him inside.

He holds up the shiny silver gift bag he hastily stuffed with tissue paper. “Some candy canes I picked up at the gas station. I figured the whole family could enjoy them.”

Scully nods, amused by his feeble attempt at gifting. “I’m sure they won’t go to waste.”

A fire crackles in the fireplace. It’s so hot in the apartment that Mulder is surprised it hasn’t melted the snow outside on the sidewalk.

“Where’s Melissa?” he asks, hoping they will hit the road sooner than later.

“She’s picking up her girlfriend from the airport. She couldn’t get an earlier flight.”

“Dulles?” He sure hopes not. It’s all the way across town.

“No, Reagan.”

Whew. Much closer.

“She should be back any minute now,” Scully continues. “Trinity’s flight got in at 3:30.”

Mulder rolls his sleeves up. “So your family doesn’t know about Trinity?”

Scully shakes her head.

“Do they know that Melissa’s…” He gestures, unsure which word to fill the space with.

“Bi? No.”

“So she shows up with Trinity, and then what?”

Scully shrugs. “She introduces her as her girlfriend. Mom already knows Missy is bringing a guest so she’ll have a plate for her.”

“You’re not worried about how the family’s gonna react?”

“Well, I’m sure Bill is gonna be a dick about it, but that’s normal. We only see him once a year, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Bill’s your brother?”

“Uh-huh. And Tara is his wife. They got married about a year and a half ago.”

Even as he pushes into his thirties, it still surprises Mulder that anyone close to his age could be married. He doesn’t even sleep in a bed.

“You think your mom’s gonna be cool with Trinity?” he asks.

“I think she loves her daughter enough to be.”

“Mmm.” Mulder sticks his hands in his pockets. If only he had dilemmas like this. He imagines him and Samantha speculating about their mother’s reaction to Sam’s nose piercing or dyed hair or...anything really. He would give so much to have someone to laugh about his uncle’s sideburns with.

His emotional deep-dive is promptly cut off by the entrance of Melissa and a brunette woman whose bangs graze her eyebrows, her hair falling just below her shoulder. “Hi!” she chirps, taking in the magnificence of Dana Scully. “Dana, I presume?”

Scully nods.

“May I hug you?” Trinity asks, hazel eyes shining.

“Sure,” Scully says, feeling the brisk air against Trinity’s coat as she’s pulled in.

Scully lets go first, and Trinity takes that as a cue to pull away. “You look just like Mel, wow,” she remarks, fighting the urge to run her fingers through Scully’s hair.

Scully smiles softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” Trinity assures, exchanging a gooey gaze with Missy. Next, her attention falls upon Mulder, who does an awkward half-wave. “Hello!” She points between Mulder and Scully. “Boyfriend?”

Mulder chokes. Scully picks up his slack--”Oh, no. This is Fox Mulder, my partner at the FBI.”

“Ahh,” Trinity smiles knowingly. “Yes, I’ve heard about you. I didn’t know you would be joining us for Christmas.”

“Christmas is not exactly my family’s cup of tea, so I figured I’d get an authentic experience with the Scullys.”

“Same! I’m looking forward to Mama Scully’s ginger snaps. I’ve heard fantastic things about them.”

Mulder elbows his partner playfully. “Damn, Scully! How could you leave me in the dark about ginger snaps?”

Scully rolls her eyes but smiles. “I apologize, Mulder. Though for the record, the fruitcake is better.”

“Says no one, ever,” Mulder teases.

She grins. Now this is Christmas.

---------------------

Taking a seat at Margaret Scully’s dinner table feels like existing inside a Christmas movie, in Mulder’s mind. Fancy china, green and red serving platters, paper mache snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and a porcelain nativity scene; the dining room has it all. Not to mention the heaping piles of food there for the taking...if this is Christmas, Mulder wants in every year.

Scully does not share his cinematic fantasy. She knows better, having actually attended one of her family’s dinners before. Bill will get too drunk and start saying whatever comes to mind, their mother will laugh along like he’s still a five year old babbling about nothing (as opposed to the thirty-something spewing bullshit that he actually is), Missy will attempt to debate him to get him to shut up (which never works), and she will sit there and wish to be somewhere, anywhere else. And all without their father to hold the reins and keep a fight from breaking out.

The night has gone smoothly enough, Scully supposes. Missy introduced Trinity as her girlfriend in a very non-ceremonial way, forcing Bill and their mother to nod and accept it, in the moment at least. Mulder received a hug from Margaret and a pat on the shoulder from Bill, so pretty much the highest token of approval. Mulder’s candy canes earned a place in the center of the dessert table, which gave him way more satisfaction than it should have, and he couldn’t help but feel that if they were to vote on favorite man at the party, he would win. A room with Bill Jr. in it is probably the only place he would ever earn this honor, and he’ll take that.

Yet everything unwinds as Scully suspected. Bill waits until everyone has packed plates and full mouths to unleash his particular hyperfixation for the night.

“Trinity?” he questions, raising his fork diagonal across the table toward her. “Is that your name?”

Trinity smiles and nods, oblivious to what she’s in for.

“And you know Melissa how…?”

She pats a napkin to her mouth. “We worked at the same restaurant in Oregon.”

He chuckles gruffly. “What was it, one of those gay bar things?”

“No, an Italian bistro,” Trinity continues calmly.

Missy, however, is not so calm. “Gay people can go places other than gay bars,” she retorts. “We’re not segregated. Though I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bill sets a fist on the table, clanging his silverware. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Why the hell do you insist on being so politically correct all the time? I’d shoot myself.”

“Gee, maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Now Melissa…” Margaret Scully’s voice rises above the clamor.

“I have the right to defend my girlfriend and I against Bill’s thinly disguised homophobia,” Missy responds.

“You act like I give a damn what you and your friend do,” Bill sneers. “That’s not my business.”

“Then stop pretending like it is.”

“Oh boo-hoo, little Missy thinks the world revolves around her.”

“Bill, honey, I think that’s enough,” Tara says, laying a protective hand on his arm.

“You’re right.” He raises his can of beer toward Mulder. “Whaddya doin here, hot shot? Trying to seduce my sister?”

Scully frowns, but doesn’t say anything, pushing food around on her plate.

Mulder seems rather unbothered by Bill’s advances. He chuckles. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around.”

Bill snorts. “That’s a likely story.”

“You don’t think I’m worth your sister’s time?”

“I don’t think Dana thinks you're worth her time. You’re not her type.”

“I am sitting right here, you know,” Scully says, staring daggers at her brother.

“Then tell us Dana! Is hot shot here your type?”

Her eyes brush Mulder’s face. His cheeks flush, reddening like a stormy sunset. She wishes she could read his mind. The safe answer and the true answer are not often the same. “I think Mulder is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky to know him,” she answers stiffly, her annoyance aimed at Bill.

“Oh, the old run-around!” Bill scraps his fork against his plate. ”Typical.”

Scully grabs her now empty canned cocktail and sulks into the kitchen, leaving her chair pushed away from the table. Everyone watches her go, but Bill gives off the only visible reaction. He laughs. “Scared her away. Thought it would take more.”

Mulder and Melissa exchange a glance. She nods, granting him permission to play knight-in-shining-armor. Quietly, Mulder slips out of his chair and pushes it back into place. He catches the kitchen door as it swings closed behind his partner.

Her anger concealed from the rest of the family, Scully drops her can in the recycling bin with a bang. She ignores Mulder, instead opening the refrigerator and pulling out another cocktail, saying nothing.

“What is this, your fifth drink?” Mulder brushes his hand over her shoulder, and she recoils. “Leave me alone, Mulder.” She slams the fridge and tries to turn around, but he’s cornered her.

“C’mon Scully, Bill’s harmless. He doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s not fucking about Bill,” she fumes, alcohol fizzing through her bloodstream. She inhales, trying to keep it together in front of the man who has done nothing wrong to her. “Please get out of my way.”

“What’s wrong?” He frames her shoulders with his hands, creating their own little bubble.

“Don’t touch me!” she growls. Mulder knows as soon as hears it: he will never forget the pure anguish in her voice. As she retreats to the corner, he looks down at his palms, the stovetop that burned her...he would cut them off if he could.

Unfortunately, the commotion attracts the Scully’s like a dog whistle. Bill leads the charge into the kitchen, getting a full view of his sister hunched over by the back door while her partner stands by the fridge like an idiot. “Ooo, a lover’s spat!” he exclaims, only nominally concerned about Dana’s well-being.

“Shut up, Bill,” Missy hisses. To everyone’s relief, he does.

Mrs. Scully comes forward, maneuvering around Mulder to get to her daughter. “Are you alright, Dana?”

Scully keeps her back to the crowd. “I just need a minute.” She taps her pocket, confirms that she slipped her pack of cigarettes in. “I’ll be outside. Everyone can go back to dinner, please.”

She twists the doorknob and steps onto the back deck without waiting for any response. Mulder feels the tug of tears in his throat, like a dormant animal waking up in him. He is used to being hurt (though not by Scully, never her), but inflicting the hurt is a whole other beast. He doesn’t know what he’s done, but he doesn’t need to. The look in her eyes, put there by what he thought was a harmless touch, made his heart tremble. He is frozen in place, grateful when Melissa appears at his side as the rest of the party returns to the dining room.

“I didn’t mean to upset her, I was trying to make her feel better about Bill…” he laments.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. It’s not you specifically, she’s going through a lot right now--you know.”

Mulder rubs his neck. “I don’t know if I do.”

“She hasn’t shared her diagnosis?”

His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Diagnosis?! Is she okay?”

Missy sighs. “I think you two need to talk. If she gets pissed, tell her I sent you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Tell me if she’s okay.”

“She’s okay. It’s not fatal or anything.”

“She would tell me, if it was...wouldn’t she?”

Missy bites her lip. “I don’t know, Fox---Mulder. I would hope so, but I was under the impression you already knew about this, and you see how that’s gone.”

Mulder turns toward the back door, desperation living in his voice. “I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta check on her.”

Missy nods. “Don’t let her weasel her way out of this one. I’m expecting a heart-to-heart, mushiness and all.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

He turns the back doorknob and slips through the door, trying to imitate his partner’s ninja skills. The old wood on the door frame shakes as he shuts it. He winces--so much for the sneak attack.

Mulder follows the arc of the deck, winter’s bite colliding with him. He didn’t have a chance to grab his jacket, and now that he’s thinking about it, Scully didn’t either. He can grin and bear it but she is all skin and bones, now more than ever. It scares him to see her like that, but it’s none of his business, he feels, to comment on her body. He can break her fall, but he must not provide an extra push.

The wind has no friends to protect nor foes to defeat, so it will give away anyone. It carries the unmistakable tarnish of smoke to Mulder’s nose, an ashy haze that has come to remind him of Skinner’s office and the shadow lingering in the corner. He almost expects to find him there with his Morleys and his sadistic laugh. Instead, he finds a redhead and her Marlboros shrinking against the December cold snap.

“Bum a cig, ma’am?” He scoots up to her, ready to retrieve his own smoke from her long, slender fingers.

“Mulder!” She pulls the cigarette away from her, holding her last puff captive in her lungs.

He wiggles his fingers like an impatient child. “We’re all gonna die someday, right?”

Her jig up, she rolls her shoulders back and releases the smoke with a great rise and fall of her chest. It mingles in the air with the chill of her breath, becoming one and the same as they leave the contours of her body. Head tilted back and lips parted, she is alive with nicotine’s ease and intoxication’s freedom.

It is better than porn, according to one Fox William Mulder. He’ll keep this observation to himself for now.

“Did your parents never teach you that sharing is caring?” he rambles. “C’mon, give me a light!”

“It’s a nasty habit, Mulder.”

“I’m a connoisseur of those,” he replies loosely. “Now, you’re not gonna make me put you in a headlock are ya?”

Scully rolls her eyes. She’s never felt less threatened in her life. “You’re exhausting, do you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a time or two.”

She pulls a cigarette from her carton and slips it into his fingers. They are warm; hers are ice-cold. “I wanted to be alone.” She hands him the lighter, watches as he generates heat from thin air.

He lights his cig and sticks the lighter in his pocket rather than handing it back to her. “According to my calculations, you should be very drunk right now. Other than your Oscar bait performance back there, you’ve got things pretty under control I’d say.”

Scully gestures at her cigarette smoking, teeth chattering self. “Yeah, I’m the picture of health.”

“Do you have some exceptional alcohol tolerance I should know about, because that’d make you very valuable in undercover work.”

Scully gazes out into the distance. She’d smile if she were to look at him right now, and that doesn’t feel right for the situation. “Those drinks have low alcohol content, Mulder. You can buy them at Dollar General.”

“You ever looked at their hand sanitizer? It’s like 95% alcohol.”

“Well, now I know where you go to get your fix.”

He chuckles. “You got me.”

She stuffs her hands in her pockets and he wishes, god he wishes, that he had grabbed his jacket. He’d take off his sweater if she wanted him to--stand there with his bare chest to the cold--but he has a feeling that would only exacerbate the situation.

He tries a more gentlemanly route. “Do you want me to grab your jacket? I won’t give away your trade secrets.”

She folds herself together. “No, it’s okay. It’ll make me get a move on at some point.”

They stand united in their rebellion, blowing smoke and freezing their asses off. Who needs Christmas cheer when you’ve got Christmas resentment?

Mulder sways a bit to keep his blood circulating. He is careful not to bump her. “You wanna tell me why you’re out-Scrooging Scrooge this year?” he prompts as gently as he can.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it hasn’t exactly been the best year of my life.”

“I gathered that, yeah.”

“And it’s the first Christmas without my father…” her voice warbles.

“Shit, right. I’m sorry,” Mulder murmurs.

“...So it just doesn’t feel very celebratory.” She takes a long drag. Mulder can tell that this secret smoking habit is not new to her, and he wonders when she picked it up, how long she has kept it from him.

He takes a deep breath, watches as it is written in the air. “Melissa told me you received a diagnosis, and I think we’ve already established that sharing is caring…”

Scully looks him in the eyes for the first time since he joined her. It has the sudden intensity of a black-and-white film, Scully the 1940s scarlet and he the leading man who pales in comparison to her. There is no one he’d rather be overshadowed by.

“It’s humiliating,” she croaks. “Missy and my mom are the only ones who know.”

“I’ve got the monopoly on humiliation in this partnership, so I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, flicking some ashes to the ground.

“This is a particular form of humiliation you can’t experience, I’m afraid. Or at least, it wouldn’t impact you the same way.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She sighs. “My abductors removed all of my eggs, causing my menstrual cycle to shut down and me to enter perimenopause.”

His breath catches in his throat. “Jesus christ.”

“Uh-huh.”

He throws his cigarette on the ground and stamps it out, though it could have burned longer. “That’s fucking horrifying, Scully. You’ve got to inform the Bureau. We’ve got to catch these--whatever they are. We’ve got to make them pay.”

“No, Mulder. It’s too much. I don’t want to keep reliving it, I want to be able to move on with my life.”

“How can you move on when they’re still out there, probably doing it to more women?”

She shakes her head, feeling the snag of tears and holding them back for fear they might freeze on her face. “I don’t know, but I can’t think about it like that. It sort of...shatters everything, the idea that this could be a phenomenon happening to other women in secret. I wouldn’t believe it if it didn’t happen to me. I still don’t believe it.”

Mulder shudders. He can’t discern whether it’s from the cold or their conversation. “Do you think it was men who took you? Or do you believe Duane Barry?”

“It seems like a level of monstrosity that only man could achieve. It requires a certain understanding of society, gender roles...dehumanization that only humans could perpetuate.”

Mulder nods. Her reasoning tracks, but the thought of him failing to outsmart humans who stole away his partner is something he cannot fully process. It makes sense that he couldn’t find her if she was in space, but if she was on the face of the Earth, he had no damn excuse.

“You were just gone, Scully...you were just gone.” His aching is so palpable, his voice a cliff’s edge they could both tumble down.

“I know I was.” She takes one last puff, then lets her cigarette fall to the ground. She crushes it with her heel, her force premeditated and brutal. That pain is for the ones who took her, the ones who have obviously never loved a thing at all.

Head bowed, she moves toward the door, but not without grasping for Mulder’s elbow, assuring that he is following behind. He is and he will be, for as long as she lets him.

Inside, the home’s manufactured warmth hits them, unreal in comparison to the cold they have known. The kitchen is as quiet as it was before their ordeal, the dining room empty aside from Mrs. Scully clearing serving platters.

“Where did everyone go?” Scully asks, momentarily alarmed that she may have ruined the entire gathering.

“We’re going to drive around and look at lights before mass. Everyone’s getting ready.”

“Oh.” She looks to Mulder, as if to check that he hasn’t left her stranded. “I think I’ll stay here,” she tells her mother. “Make a cup of hot chocolate and relax for a bit.”

“Well, you’ll be missed. Fox, would you like to join us?”

He takes a leap, hopes he’s got the right idea. “I’ll stay here, but thank you.”

“As you wish,” Mrs. Scully says with a slight smile. Mulder had never noticed her resemblance to her daughter until that moment. It was like looking at a sketch of a famous painting; the lines are there but the colors missing.

Soon enough the crowd leaves and Scully and Mulder settle on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa. Margaret Scully’s tree forms the centerpiece of the living room, and it’s hard not to admire its gold and red decorations and the shiny angel on top.

“That’s gorgeous. Does she do it every year?” Mulder asks, ignoring the steam rising out of his mug and going right in for the kill.

Scully nods. “Every year since we were kids. There used to be a lot more homemade ornaments, but I guess she swapped those for a more elegant look now that we’re grown.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.” He looks at her, curled up with the glow of the fireplace falling upon her, and he feels warmth and safety like never before. It would be so easy to slip in “and so are you,” it is practically begging to be said. But she wouldn’t believe him if he said it now; she would think it was a pity compliment. Instead, he mouths the words, and she is not looking, and that is okay.

She snuggles deeper into the cushions, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander. She is the most at ease she has been in months--here in the house she lived in during high school with the fireplace crackling and her partner by her side--and that’s not what she expected from Christmas Eve. Heaven strokes her skin, and she blinks her eyes open to find Mulder tucking her in with her mother’s microfiber blanket. She smiles her soft Scully smile. “Thank you,” she coos, burrowing herself deeper into the blanket’s embrace.

“You’re welcome,” Mulder whispers into her ear. His fingers tangle in her hair as he pulls her toward him, his lips meeting her temple. She catalogues the feeling for her memory bank: chapped but carrying the hot chocolate’s warmth. She will spend the next while convinced that it was a dream, a fleeting image in the moments before sleep, but she will carry the feeling until she feels it again.

[hanawrites404]

Part 2 :

"J-Jojo" the ravenhead approached the purplenette and tugged at her pants. Jonita snapped from her trance and looked down at the boy.

"D-Did I say something wrong to Mama?? Why did she become so upset?? Is it not right to love boys for me??" Jotaro shot her with numerous questions. Tears were threatening to fall from his emerald green eyes.

Jonita slightly chuckled and shook her head. She then kneeled down and held Jotaro by his shoulder.

"Who said that you have to love only girls if you are a boy?? In fact, you can love anyone in this world". "R-Really??" Jotaro asked with some hope. Jonita then smiled and nodded in reply.

"E-Even dolphins?!!" Jotaro asked with excitement. "U-Umm...sure. You want to marry dolphins??". "What?? No. I want to marry that red boy only" Jotaro bashfully said. "Wow, from love to marriage already. This is escalating very quickly" Jonita whispered to herself.

"Anyways, the reason why your mother reacted like this was because, boys don't usually fall in love with other boys. There is a universal law saying that boys have to love only girls as humans are made to function like this only".

"So you are saying that I'm.....mel-fuk-sion-ing??". "You mean malfunctioning?? No, not at all. It just means that you are...........different". "Different?? What do you mean Jojo??"

Jonita scooted closer to Jotaro and then cupped his cheek.

"Listen Joot, you are not the only one who loves people of their own gender. In fact, I have seen girls who like girls and also some people who like both boys and girls!! There are also some people whose gender you cannot even tell, and people fall in love with such persons too"

"Really??". "Yes. My husband used to like boys too". "Then what about you?? Why did he marry you then??". "Well, that question can be answered by him only. But if I speak of it, then maybe because he saw something in me which he never saw in others".

"Wow......If I ever meet your husband once, I will make sure to ask him why he chose you". "S-Sure, why not".

Jonita didn't really like the sound of that. "A-Anyways.......

Jotaro, who has the right to tell you whom to love?? Only you have. Not me, not Holly, not even God, only you and yourself. Love anyone you like. A boy, a girl, a dolphin, anyone!!! Just love them so much that you make them feel like they have found their home in you" she then pokes Jotaro's chest.

"B-But what if someone makes fun of me??". "Don't listen to them. They are just jealous that a handsome boy like you just had his heart been stolen by an equally handsome young man" she then squished Jotaro's cheeks to which Jotaro giggled.

He then hugged Jonita and buried his face in her chest.

"Thank you so much Jojo, you are the best!!". "Hehe, I know" Jonita rubbed Jotaro's back.

They stayed like this for a few seconds, and then Jonita spoke. "Well, I remember that I had bought some extra ice-cream from the shop. You want to have some, Joot??". "Yaay!! More ice-cream!!!" Both the Jojos then invaded the kitchen to devour the cold confectionery.

Meanwhile......

"Hello?? Papa??". "Holly, my baby!!! How are you doing??". "I'm fine, thank you for asking". "Holly, you sound sad. Is everything alright?? Are you hurt or something?? I-I'm coming right away then!!"

"No no Papa, I'm really fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something". "Shoot up Holly". "......I-it's about Jotaro". "Jotaro?? What about him?? Is he alright??". "He.........he is in love".

"OOOOHHHH MMYYYYY GOOOODDDD". Holly had to turn her head away from the phone to avoid her eardrums to be destroyed. She could literally imagine her father jumping happily all around wherever he was speaking from.

"TELL ME QUICK!!! WHO IS THE LUCKY GIRL?!!!". "T-That is what the problem is, Papa". "Huh?? What do you mean??". "J-Jotaro has fallen for a boy instead". "A boy??". "Y-Yes Papa".

There was silence at the other side of the call. Until another scream came.

"OOHHHH MY GOOOODDD, THAT IS EVEN BETTER!!!!!". Holly was kind of shocked from her father's reaction. She hadn't expect her father out of everyone else to react like this. She had expected him to be just as worried as she was.

"QUICK, TELL ME HOW HE LOOKED LIKE. HOW DID THEY MEET?? DID JOTARO BLUSH?? WHAT DID JOTARO SAY TO HIM?? DID THEY HUG AND KISS?? TELL ME HOLLY, TELL ME!!!!".

"Papa, I'm worried about Jotaro". "Worried?? Why??". "Jotaro is a boy. He should be attracted towards girls and not with the children who is of his same gender" Holly said.

"So what?? It is his choice. Let him love whom he wants to". "But Papa--". "Listen, Baby. Do you remember Caesar??". "You mean Uncle Caesar??". "Yes Dear. I.....I was in love with him once".

"What??" Holly was astonished. She didn't expect this at all. So Jotaro wasn't the only one she knew who was attracted to people of his gender?? Her own father was as same as her son??

"W-Why didn't you tell me earlier Papa??". "I wanted to, but I wanted the right time to come. And I think right now is the best time".

Joseph then cleared his throat and the he started the tale of his and Caesar's battle tendency.

"Your uncle and I were enemies at first. We fought even for the most little things and your grandmother and Jonita used to scold and beat us up for that. But we never changed".

Joseph took a small pause, then he continued. "Though we fought, we were really close to each other. I didn't know about him but, I had realised that I had fallen in love with him. With his funny Italian accent, with the way he wore his suspenders wrong, and also how he used to boast about his Zeppeli bloodline, everything".

"That's.......very delightful, Papa" Holly said, a smile forming on her lips. "I know. But unfortunately, our relationship didn't last long".

Holly's smile dropped. "What happened then Papa??". "W-We both had gotten into a very big argument and I had said something to him which offended him a lot. He then punched me and left, and that was the last time I saw him".

Holly held the phone tighter, she was really curious to know what happened next.

"When me, Jonita and your grandmother went to look for him........w-we found his dead body crushed......under a massive rock...........and his headband was lying there.... covered with his blood............And I--"

Joseph couldn't complete his sentence as Holly heard soft sobs coming from the other side. Holly's heart ached as she heard her father crying on the phone. She became worried and asked "P-Papa?? Are you OK??".

"Y-Yeah, I-I'm fine. Don't worry". She then sighed from relief and continued to listen to Joseph.

"Damn, I can't believe his memories are still making me cry after so many years" he said to himself with a laugh. Holly chuckled and said.

"So you really loved Uncle Caesar??". "My Dear, he was my loveliest salad. But I knew that if he had a chance, he would beat me up from Heaven if I kept crying in his memories and not move on, that's why I married your mother and then you came, and slowly did Jotaro".

"So you never told him that you loved him??". "I never had the courage to tell him, and even if had been able to gather some, it had already been too late. Now I don't want my grandson to do the same mistake as me, so please encourage him to let his feelings reach the one whom he loves. Will you help him do it Holly??".

"Yes Papa". "Good!!". Holly smiled. She could literally feel his father grinning from the other side.

"Well, your mother must be waiting for my call. I'll talk to you later then". "OK Papa. Bye". "Bye Honey" and then they both cut off.

Holly kept the phone down and sighed. She then twirled round and round happily while giggling.

"My baby is in love~!!" she happily exclaimed. She then walked to her kitchen while skipping like a happy schoolgirl.

"I shall make make red rice tonight!! I'm sure Jotaro would love it!!" and so the three of them celebrated Jotaro's new found love for the rest of the day.

10 Years Later.......

It has been a decade and Jotaro had turned from a cheery toddler to a forbidding teenager. He had started to get into fights with his classmates and secretly smoke cigarettes.

Not to mention, he had also started to disrespect his teachers and his elders and he called every woman he met a bitch, including his own loving mother.

Holly had stayed the same even after 10 years. Her unconditional love for Jotaro never diminished even a bit. But it seemed like Jotaro had changed his attitude towards her, but it never bothered Holly.

As for Jonita, she had left Japan after Jotaro's 10th birthday. She promised the young man that she will return after she was done with her unfinished business. Yesterday she called home and said that she was going to come back home today, and Jotaro was surprisingly anticipating eagerly for her arrival.

But that didn't mean that he was going to bunk his school for her, so he went to his school in his long, unbuttoned uniform coat revealing a t-shirt underneath and his signature black hat, and as usual, swarms of girls started to surround him as soon as they spotted the giant delinquent.

Some of them greeted him while some of them tried to hold his hand. Obviously he ignored them all. He was focused on reaching school and that's all. But then he heard two girls fighting over him and shouting insults at each other, and he shouted.

"SHUT UP!!! YOU ARE FUCKING ANNOYING!!!" he yelled back. But instead of keeping quiet, the girls squealed and blushed, and then it eventually turned into a fight about which girl had he shouted on.

Jotaro ignored them once more and started to walk away, and the rest of the girls followed behind him while calling his name.

Meanwhile, a young man with red hair and purple eyes, wearing a complete different uniform from Jojo and the girls, was stalking him from the bushes. With a paintbrush in his hand, he looked at the picture he had made of the delinquent on the canvas menacingly.

"Jotaro Kujo, one of the most dangerous delinquents in this town, huh??" the man said to himself. He then smirked as he dipped his brush in red paint.

"Well well, let's see how dangerous you really are against me"

To Be Continued.........

(I know this a lot to ask but, 28 likes please?? And when the goal is achieved, I will post the continuation. I hope you all enjoyed).

PART 1 :

[aelia-likes-monsters]

Storytime with Aelia

You may think that my “actual conversations with my husbeast” tag is a bit silly or exaggerated, but I can assure you that not only are those true, but I come by this shit honestly. Because back in December my mom apologized for not mailing me a Christmas card. 

Me: “So rude, Mother.”  Mom: “I know. I’ve failed you as a parent. I’ll go fling myself off a cliff.” Me: “Or you could get me a President’s day card.” Mom: “I don’t think they make those.”  Me: “Exactly. I have to put some challenge in it. If I just said Valentine’s day you and Grandma could just go to the store and pick whatever. But President’s Day makes this proper penance.” Mom: audibly rolls her eyes at me. “Fine” 

Cue February. President’s day was celebrated on February 17th this year, for those of you who don’t keep track of stupid holidays. 

Mom: “I didn’t get you a President’s day card, my child.”  Me: “I know, Mother.”  Mom: “So...” Me: “I expect a helluva card for the Ides of March.”  Mom: ...  Me: “You know. March 15th? Let’s stab Caesar? I’ll also accept a polaroid of you stabbing some Caesar Salad.”  Mom: “You’re a monster.”  Me: “Who raised me?”  Mom: “Fair.” 

Two weeks ago, she sent me a bunch of eCards for the Ides & Caesar memes. I told her they absolutely had to be physically mailed to me. 

I’ll report back after I call her today. :) 

[megan-flynn]

Blog 7:My Exciting Quarantine Day

Hi everyone! Today was one of the most fun days I have had in awhile! For the first time in quarantine, I never felt bored once throughout the day. I was always doing something surprisingly.

My day started off at noon because I like to sleep in when I can. I woke up and had Cheerios with strawberries and pineapple. Once I finished up my breakfast, I decided to go for a bike ride. It was so nice out today, so I decided to bike for quite awhile. It was nice to be out in fresh air for awhile. After about 3 miles, I decided to start heading back home.

When I arrived home, my mom asked me if I wanted to go pick up the donuts for tomorrow. We drove to Orland Bakery and then dropped some off at my aunts house. We talked with my aunt for about an hour. At that time, it was about 3 o’clock. 

It was time for lunch, so I made myself a caesar salad. On the side of my salad I had some cucumbers with ranch. 

Following lunch, I played some basketball and soccer for about an hour. The. my dad wanted to take me driving for the first time. Since I had never driven before, I drove in a parking lot. Shockingly, I was pretty good especially with  the fact that there was not a single car in the parking lot, besides mine. After about 15 minutes another person decided to come to the same parking lot to practice driving, and my dad figured it was not a good idea that two people practice driving right next to each other, so we went home. 

When we got home it was time for dinner. For dinner we had cheeseburgers and hotdogs. Once we finished I did the dishes. When I realized it was Easter tomorrow, and we will not be able to see our grandma, I decided to make a poster to drop off at her house tomorrow. To end my day I took a shower.I am super happy to celebrate my favorite holiday tomorrow! 

[lovemesomesurveys]

Out of all 24 hours, which one is your favourite? The one where I have my first cup of coffee, ha. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? Nope. What are the names of the neighbours to your right? I don’t know. Left? I don’t know. When’s the last time you actually sat down and watched the sun set? I’ve never actually sat down to do that. I just happen to see them while out and about or during car rides or something like that.

Are you on a laptop or desktop? Laptop. Do you ever make your own surveys? No. What colour is your shower? White. Where do you order your pizza from? My family likes Dominos, Pizza Hut, and Round Table, but my favorite is a local one. It’s SO good.  When is the last time you had a serious talk with someone? When my aunt was here last week. What time are you planning on going to bed tonight? I go to bed around 2ish or so, typically. How old are you, your parents and your siblings combined? 160. The last time you went out of town was? Yesterday. And where did you go? A nearby touristy city near water. One of my favorite places to go. Have you ever been bit by an animal? Maybe accidentally while playing around. Where is the person you miss the most right now? Some of them have passed away. Have you been paying attention to the Olympics much? I don’t watch them. How often do you take naps? Oftenish. I’m tired everyday, so I’m always fighting sleep during the day and sometimes it wins. I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but when do you go back to school? I’m done with school.  Did it rain today? No. What was the name of the last dog you pet? That’s my doggo, her name is Princess Leia.  Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? Chicken tenders and fries--always. Lol, yesterday we went out to eat for lunch and I ordered coffee and a kid’s meal and I realized it was just the perfect representation of me. It was funny cause when I ordered the coffee, the waiter had to check if they even had any cause he wasn’t sure. He came back with some and he was like, “I gotta tell you, you’re the first person I’ve ever waited on here that has ordered this, which is why I didn’t even know we had any.” Yeahhh, I’m the lame-o who just gets coffee or water and chicken tenders with fries. lol. Are you constantly judging people? I wouldn’t say I’m constantly doing that, but I think we all judge others in some way or another and it’s not always a bad thing. Some people are just very judgmental, though. Have you ever had anything stolen from you? Yes. Think back to your freshman year in high school, what was the first class period on your first day of school? I think it was health. What colour is your bike? I don’t have one. What word can you not stand to hear people say? I hate the c word and the p word. You will never hear me say either one.  When was the last time the power went out at your house and how long was it out for? Back in June like the first triple digit day of the summer. I think it was out for like 2 hours. Thankfully, that was the only time this summer. What room of your house are you in? Mine. When there’s a full moon, does it make your room really bright for a few days? No? I didn’t know that happened.  What is the temperature in your city right now? 68 F :O Which would you rather, a snowy day, sunny day, rainy day or cloudy day?: Rainy or cloudy. I’d say snowy, too, but it doesn’t snow here so I don’t know. I think I’d like it, though.  How long have you ever spent away from home? A week. Ever had to get any stitches? Several. When did you last use a post-it-note? I don’t recall. Would you ever want to own your own restaurant? No. Do you have a fan in your bedroom? I have a ceiling fan and 2 regular ones. Have you ever seen the White House? Not in person. How about Niagara Falls? Not in person. What about the four corners, have you ever been there? I have. Have you ever played any variation of the padiddle game in a car a night? If not, you should wikipedia it and play it. It can be fun with the right people? Nope. I’ve never even heard of it until now; I had to look it up. The most recent staircase you went down, what did it lead to? I can’t take the stairs. Have you ever thought about what life would be like if we all slept during the day and were active at night? Yeah. I mean, I’ve definitely had days like that, ha, but yeah I’ve wondered what it would be like if that was the norm. What colours are the counter tops in your kitchen? They’re granite top. Has your luggage ever been lost at the airport? Did you get it back? No. Which major body of water do you live by? The Pacific. Who is the last person that you took a picture with? My brother. What type of food do you eat the most? Eggs, bologna sandwiches, and ramen. When is the last time you were stuck in a fairly long traffic jam? Yesterday. Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them? No.  What do you enjoy most about your life? My family, which includes my doggo. She can always make me smile. When was your most recent trip to an aquarium? It’s been several years. What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer? I haven’t had a salad in so long. Apart from lettuce and spinach of course, I liked hard boiled eggs, olives, croutons, peppercinis, green onions, avocado, shredded cheese.... I think that may be it. Ranch or caesar dressing.  Last time you changed the light bulb to the lamp that you use in your bedroom? I think like 2 years ago. Does sleeping past 12 or 1 in the afternoon make you feel like you’ve wasted a lot of your day or do you enjoy the extra hours of sleep? I don’t care, honestly. I have nothing important to do. What is your state most famous for? I think when people think of California they often think of Hollywood/celebrities, In-N-Out, and the beach. Other things, too, but I feel like those are some of the main ones. What was the last thing you signed your name in cursive on? The credit card machine thingy when I bought something yesterday. How many times in your life have you seen a shooting star? Zero. Have you ever witnessed a tornado? No. How many times a year do you go out of state? I don’t go out of state regularly. The last time was 6 years ago. Has your best friend ever moved away? No. If it has one, do you ever use the notepad function in your phone? Yes. What website do you visit the most often? Tumblr. How good would you say your memory is? Pretty good. About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? A few times. Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds? We have those wax melting things as well as room sprays. What scent of candle do you burn the most? We have quite a few different ones for our wax warmer. I have like 3 candles, but I never light them. For what reason did you last cry? My emotions and moody moods got the best of me yesterday. The day started out good, we went out of town to one of my favorite places to pick up my bro (who we dropped off the day before for a concert) and to grab lunch at our favorite place there and then do a little shopping. Should have been a great day, but my moody mood struck during it and it takes control over me. Then I started to feel sick on the way home, so that was fun. I felt really shitty last night. What’s one thing you’re glad you’ve done recently? Hmm. How long have you been taking surveys? Over 10 years. What kind of surveys do you wish there were more of? I like ones with questions like the ones in this survey. Just random questions and thought-provoking ones that let me ramble and vent.

[stopandimagineloveforever]

Few TV shows have arrived as confidently as Schitt’s Creek did when it premiered four years ago; after all, the pilot took under two minutes to introduce its four main characters in instantly striking ways. We open in a palatial estate, where members of the filthy rich Rose family are reacting to news they’ve been defrauded by their business manager and left with nothing. Well, except the titular town, which Rose patriarch Johnny bought for his son as a joke birthday present years before. Immediately, there’s Moira (standout Catherina O’Hara), wailing to her husband about how she’s been “stripped of every morsel of pleasure I earned in this life.” In reply, her husband Johnny (Eugene Levy) complains about the shady business manager that landed his family in this mess. Nearby, their daughter Alexis (Annie Murphy) alights from a stately staircase while desperately trying to get the boyfriend she’s on the phone with to step out of the club he’s in and listen to her problems. And by the door, her brother David boldly berates a government official, calling him a “sick person” that “wants to get paid to destroy another person’s life.”

Dan Levy, who plays David and co-created the show alongside his father and co-star Eugene, is far less confrontational than his character, but no less animated. When I meet him in January for a late lunch at a sparsely populated restaurant in Rockefeller Center, the 35-year-old is upbeat and personable, despite the packed schedule he’d been navigating for the previous few days while doing press for the show’s fifth season.

The entire process is somewhat new to the actor, since Schitt’s Creek kept a relatively low profile in its earlier seasons. But as the show’s popularity has grown — with critics now hailing it as “the funniest show on TV right now,” a “gem of a sitcom,” and an “amiable and deliriously funny series” — so has Levy’s. After serving as the official showrunner for four seasons, he’s become a celebrity in his own right. Yet in midtown, as he makes his way through a grilled chicken caesar salad and a Diet Coke, Levy doesn’t appear to exhibit any of those expected pretenses; he’s quite laid-back and surprisingly gregarious, eager to talk about the little show he made which blossomed into something much bigger than he could have ever imagined.

Before Schitt’s Creek, Levy says he spent some time “figuring it out.” Growing up as the son of a comedy legend, it was nearly a given that he would do theater in high school. But when he graduated and actually tried to pursue acting as a career, Levy was held back by the nervousness he routinely felt at auditions. “As you can imagine, that was quite awkward for me as an actor,” he jokes. Instead, he landed at MTV Canada, where he cut his teeth recapping The Hills on the popular The After Show. That experience, he says, was where the idea for Schitt’s Creek was planted. “I was fascinated by these people who were raised around so much wealth,” he tells me. “And I wanted to know what it would be like if someone like that were to lose everything.”

He eventually took that inkling of an idea to his dad, and together, they fleshed it out into the show it is today. In the earliest stages, Levy recalls looking at “sexy and stylish” series like Sex and the City for inspiration, which ultimately lead to his decision to build each character around a distinct style that mirrors their personality type. Artsy David would be into neutral tones and architectural Rick Owens; business-minded Johnny would always wear classic tailored suits; histrionic former soap star Moira would have a flair for the dramatic silhouettes of McQueen; and boho-chic Alexis would be ready to jet off to Coachella at a moment’s notice.

To this day, Dan still takes the lead on much of the show’s wardrobe. It’s one of the most rewarding parts of his job, he tells me, and it’s a good excuse to indulge his shameless shopping addiction. He sources most of the garments seen on the show online, perusing for new duds on designer resale apps like The RealReal and Grailed, but it’s clear that his sartorial eye is just as keen in person. Upon arriving to the restaurant, the first thing Dan does is compliment my sunglasses, which were sitting on the corner of the table. “Congratulations on those boots,” he told me as we left, pointing down at my footwear. The only apparent downside to his side gig as a personal shopper is that it can be difficult to stop himself from getting too out of control. “I just keep buying for future seasons,” he jokes. “If the show ends, I’m just going to have all these random Alexander McQueen pieces in my room! I’ll have to call up some of my friends and ask if they want to come buy some.”

Hopefully, we’ll never reach that point — at least not for a while, now that the show is finally getting the respect it deserves. Days before our lunch, Levy and his fellow cast members had experienced their first A-List red carpet event when they attended the Critics’ Choice Awards, where they were nominated for Best Comedy Series. “It’s so crazy to think that this little show was there amongst all these real celebrities,” he says, emphasizing the word real in a way that lets you know he still doesn’t understand just how famous he actually is — or does a good job pretending not to, at least. The performer says he was most excited to meet Jodie Comer, but in retrospect, he wonders if he maybe went overboard when he approached the Killing Eve actress to “fan out” and enthusiastically tell her how much he loved her.

Schitt’s Creek didn’t win that night. But it’s not difficult to imagine the show becoming a serious awards contender in the future, especially now that it’s established a real audience. Levy and the entire team are rooting particularly hard for Catherine O’Hara, whose indelible, no-holds-barred performance as Moira has rightfully inspired a few internet campaigns to get The Television Academy’s attention.

Yet it’s probably Levy himself who has galvanized the most fervent response from audiences. His character is one of the only pansexual men on TV today, and in the show’s currently-airing fifth season, his same-sex relationship with newly-out Patrick (Noah Reid) is one of the biggest ongoing plot points. As a gay man, he says it was always important to him to bring positive queer representation to his show — which is ironically why he had David sleep with a woman (sardonic motel owner Stevie) before he ever got with a man. “I did want to play with people’s expectations a bit,” he admits. “David is flamboyant and I knew people would assume he was gay, so I wanted to subvert that and show that you can’t always judge a book by its cover.”

Nevertheless, Levy is now fully invested in exploring the much-beloved relationship between David and Patrick, which he’s made a deliberate effort to ensure is not met with any homophobia in the titular small town. It’s what he would’ve done anyway, but it doesn’t hurt that he’s seen firsthand just how much their relationship means to the fans at home watching. When I ask about the response he’s received from the queer community, it’s the first time during our meal that he seems to get really emotional. “I got a letter recently that made me cry,” he begins, tearing up ever so slightly. “This woman wrote to me and told me that her son had just come out. She didn’t have a problem with it, but she was scared about what other people would think. She told me that my show made her feel a little more comfortable.”

It’s surprising how novel it seems to create a show where homophobia is just... not allowed to exist, but it’s comforting to see how normal it actually looks in practice. Just people being themselves without judgment: It’s all part of this world that Dan Levy was inspired to create after watching too many reruns of The Hills. Back then, he set out to create a show that uncovered what would happen when the self-obsessed wealthy wake up to find themselves penniless. If the series’ first five seasons have offered us any sort of answer, it’s that they will learn and grow, facing truths about themselves and their privilege that will only benefit them in the long run. They will form stronger bonds with themselves and with each other. Hell, they might even find true life-fulfilling happiness.

That is, as long as they find their way to Schitt’s Creek.

Schitt’s Creek airs Wednesdays at 10:00pm on Pop.

[ch21con]

2019 Blog Tour: Interview with Julia Byers and ON THE COME UP Giveaway!

Hello, readers! Today we’re participating in the Ch1Con & Ch21Con 2019 Blog Tour, an annual tour in preparation for this year’s conferences, which brings original content from the Chapter One Events team to a number of fantastic, writing-related blogs. This is the 2019 blog tour’s FIRST STOP! Yay!

And: along with it comes a GIVEAWAY for a signed copy of ON THE COME UP by Angie Thomas! In order to qualify, you must:

tweet about the giveaway

follow one of our Twitter accounts (@Ch1Con or @Ch21Con on Twitter)

register for the conference

love Angie Thomas (which every human should anyway)

(Rafflecopter link for this giveaway here)

That is all pretty thrilling, but you know what else is thrilling? A nonprofit conference both for and by young writers, with lots of online events! If you are or know a writer between the ages of 11 and 29 who’s in need of a strong community, well, you’ve come to the right place.

What’s Chapter One Events, you ask?

Chapter One Events is a nonprofit organization that brings writing information and publishing opportunities to young writers—culminating in the annual Chapter One Young Writers Conference (Ch1Con, ages 11-20) and the brand new Chapter Twenty-One Conference (Ch21Con, ages 21-29). The Chapter One Events team is composed of a mix of middle school, high school, college, and twenty-something writers, who work together to create a unique, inclusive experience for young attendees.

The two conferences bring tweens, teens, and young adults together to hear from accomplished authors their own age, participate in professional workshops, and celebrate the influence young writers have on the world. With an atmosphere that combines the professional aspects of writing conferences with the awesomeness of hanging out with fellow young book nerds, Ch1Con and Ch21Con are truly can’t-miss events!

OK, so what is this post about?

To be clear, this post is NOT an advertisement, promoted post, etc. We (the Chapter One Events team) are just way too excited about this conference, and really want the right audience to know about it! That’s what the blog tour is all about: getting the info out so that young writers in need of community can find us.

This year we’re opening up the Ch21Con Tumblr to start off our 2019 blog tour, to let you know all about this year’s conference. (Don’t worry, if you fear you can’t make it, you totally can keep up with us through online events and live-streams!)

We’ve got an interview from the FOUNDER of Chapter One Events, Julia Byers, below. Even if you’ve never heard of us before, I would recommend reading through her interview! She’s got tons of awesome thoughts on the world of being a young writer.

(She’s also being interviewed by Ariel Kalati, a member of the Ch21Con team, who is a large fan of Panera Bread and complaining.)

READ MORE:

1. Can you tell us a brief history of how the conference came to be?

So, our original conference, the Chapter One Young Writers Conference, for younger writers ages 11-20, came about thanks to two things. First, there were these old writing forums for teens called Write It. A group of us on there had become close friends over the years but, being the internet (and us being minors), had never had a chance to actually meet one another. So, we lay the scene with that. Then, when I was sixteen, I began attending big writer's conferences in NYC--and I was pretty intimidated by the scale of the events and the fact that I was one of very few non-adults attending them, and also was frustrated because all of the advice shared didn't quite apply to me (because the speakers were talking about fitting in writing around taking your kid to theatre rehearsal, not, well, being the kid going to theatre rehearsal). So somehow, between these two things, I got it into my head that WE, the teens of Write It, should put on our own writer's conference--something small and fun and tailored explicitly to teenagers. And so, Ch1Con was born. As for our second conference, the Chapter Twenty-One Conference, for writers ages 21-29: fast forward to 2016, and I was graduating from college and moving to NYC to work in publishing, and I wasn't quite the awkward teen writer I used to be. (No, now I was an awkward *twenty-something* writer.) A number of our volunteers and attendees were also aging out of the target age group for Ch1Con. We all really loved the conference, though, and none of us wanted to give it up. So, we thought, "Why not make a similar conference, just targeting slightly older writers? And hey, while we're at it, we're all of age and full of existential dread now, so why not add alcohol?" And so the Chapter Twenty-One Conference was born as well. We officially launched Ch21Con in 2018 and I'm SO excited to see where both conferences go in the future! 2. What are some difficulties that face the average twentysomething writer, and how does Ch21Con help with these?

I think one of the biggest issues my twenty-something writer friends and I face is finding the time and energy to write. It's so easy to get over-scheduled, between work and/or school, chores, working out, cooking, errands, attempting to maintain some semblance of a social life--basically, it turns out life is very good at getting in the way. So, Ch21Con works to help carve out a space in everyone's busy schedules throughout the year, by hosting monthly online events such as Twitter chats on various writing-related topics and virtual write-ins where we all discuss our current projects and motivate one another to get in some words. Basically, we strive to give writers the opportunity to carve out the space in their lives they need in order to tell their stories. 3. What are you most excited about for this year's conference?

Ahhhhh this is such a hard one! I'm excited for everything??! That said, probably what I'm most excited about is hearing debut author Joan He speak. I've been lucky enough to know Joan for years now, and I've had her name tucked away to lead a workshop at the conferences pretty much since the beginning, just waiting for her to get a book published. Joan is such a talented, smart, hardworking young writer, it's going to be truly special to finally hear her speak at the conferences. (And I recently found out that we'll be the first conferences she'll be leading workshops at, which is super cool in itself!) 4. Tell us about your favorite book or publishing-related memories from the past year.

Oof another hard one. My day job is in the industry, most of my friends work in the industry, and I run Chapter One Events and write in my free time--so basically my entire life is favorite book or publishing-related memories. But hmmm. You know, a really, REALLY cool moment was, actually, walking into my hometown Barnes & Noble in Michigan a couple weeks back and seeing so many friends' books on the shelves. Being so immersed in publishing, it's easy to forget that the books we work on are the Real Published Books that go out in the world. But seeing them in my childhood bookstore so far away from NYC--the place where I met my first authors and dragged my parents every chance I got growing up--was surreal. It reminded me of the reality of what we're all doing, that we're MAKING BOOKS, like BOOKS BOOKS, that ACTUAL PEOPLE READ, and I full-on broke down crying in the middle of the YA section. Like a lunatic. 5. Accessibility is necessary in the publishing community. What are different ways that Chapter One Events makes our content accessible?

Our goal always as an organization has been to make information about the writing and publishing processes more accessible to the young people coming up in the industry, whether they're already aiming for publication or only just starting to figure out how to write their first novel. One way we do this, obviously, is through the conferences. We keep the price as low as possible (subsidizing the events as much as we can out of our own pockets) in order to make it as affordable as we can for young writers. We want them to be able to come meet the authors and publishing professionals who are speaking, build a network with their fellow up-and-coming young writers, and learn about craft. Along this same vein, we keep the conferences small and casual, with equal focuses on learning and fun, because we know how anxiety-inducing big professional events can be and we want this to be a safe space for those just starting out. Additionally, we put on free online events throughout the year, such as the aforementioned monthly Twitter chats and virtual write-ins, as well as events such as our annual Yule Ball, which is a live-streamed panel of young authors talking all things writing and publishing. (We like to think of it as a mini, free, online writer's conference.) We're also constantly working to come up with new ways to share information with the young writers of the world, such as the autumn mentorship program we've put on in the past. 6. Finally: if you had to describe the conference using only Panera Bread-related metaphors, how would you do it?

You know, you'd think I'd be prepared for this one after so many years of answering Panera-related questions for this org, yet this is STILL SOMEHOW THROWING ME (much like that time Panera added Parmesan crisps to their Caesar salad and I was like, "Whaaat?")

But okay. I've got this, I've got this. Ch1Con and Ch21Con are all the comfort food items on the Panera menu: the mac and cheese, the tomato soup, the toasted bagels smothered in melty honey walnut cream cheese. Even if it's your first time eating one of these items, they taste like coming home, much in the same way attending the conferences feels like coming home. (It's been a wonder to me over the years to hear new attendees say again and again that attending our conferences feels like finally finding the community with whom they belong.)

That said, the conferences are also kind of like all the "healthier" items on the Panera menu, the salads and smoothies, in that they seem like the "healthy" choice (networking! career development!), but they also taste really good at the same time (new friendships! meeting authors! free books! pizza!). Finally, Ch1Con and Ch21Con are also like Panera's excellent, super salty kettle chips, because we too are a salty bunch when it comes to discussing favorite book characters and least favorite series endings. (I'm looking at you, Ariel, haha.)

If that made you thrilled to go to this year’s conference, yay! (If not, that’s fine. We’re a nonprofit organization and we’re just happy to reach out to young writers at all! But also, please consider coming.)

Here’s all the info you’ll need about the 2019 conference:

This year, Ch1Con (ages 11-20) is bigger and brighter than ever, with more opportunities, cooler giveaways, and a new roundup of fantastic speakers headlining the conference. And the inaugural Ch21Con (ages 21-29) will feature the same speakers and opportunities—just tailored to a slightly older audience. Both conferences will take place Saturday, June 29th at the Hilton Garden Inn – Chicago O’Hare in Des Plaines, IL (a suburb of Chicago). Registration is currently open on the conferences’ respective websites for $99.99. (This price includes a complimentary pizza party lunch during the conferences, with alternate options available for those with dietary restrictions.)

The speaker lineup features Joan He (author of Descendant of the Crane – Albert Whitman & Co.), Riley Redgate (author of several books, including Final Draft – Abrams/Amulet), and more! Between the awesome presentations and workshops, attendees will have the chance to participate in literary trivia games and giveaways, with prizes including professional critiques, signed books, and advance readers copies (ARCs). There will also be an author panel open to any and all questions at the end of the conferences, followed by a book signing by participating speakers.

During downtime, all participants are free to explore Chicago, relax at the beautiful hotel (where a discounted block of rooms is available for attendees), and network with one another, establishing the sort of vital connections that can jumpstart careers and create lifelong friendships.

The conference weekend will kick off with parties on Friday evening. For the Ch1Con crowd, this will be a gathering in the hotel lobby, where lemonade and assorted snacks will be provided. For the Ch21Con crowd, the Friday night party will be an informal cocktail hour hosted at the hotel bar, the Garden Grille & Bar.

More information on transportation and lodging can be found on the Ch1Con and Ch21Con websites. Early bird registration is currently available here for Ch1Con (ages 11-20) and here for Ch21Con (ages 21-29). Those under 18 need a parent or guardian’s consent in order to register.

So, if you’re a young writer and you’re interested in these conferences, register ASAP! With a growing number of tweens, teens, and young adults discovering the magic of Chapter One Events, seats are sure to sell out fast. The last day to register before the higher late rate registration price begins is June 14th. For more information and to join the Ch1Con and Ch21Con communities online, check out the following links:

Chapter One Young Writers Conference (Ages 11-20)

Website: Chapter One Young Writers Conference

Twitter: @Ch1Con

Tumblr: Ch1Con

Instagram: @Ch1Con

YouTube: Chapter One Conference

Facebook: Chapter One Conference

 Chapter Twenty-One Conference (Ages 21-29)

Website: Chapter Twenty-One Conference

Twitter: @Ch21Con

Tumblr: Ch21Con

Instagram: @Ch21Con

Facebook: Chapter 21 Conference

And, of course, you can follow the rest of the Ch1Con & Ch21Con 2019 Blog Tour at: www.chapteroneconference.org or www.chapter21conference.org.

[lucifermagne]

name: Marzipan birthday: December 13th, 1995 gender: Bigender (they/them) orientation: Demi-romantic grey-asexual age: 23

favorite soda: Diet Orange Cream soda favorite candy: Swedish Fish favorite pizza: Pepperoni and Mushroom favorite salad dressing: Caesar favorite meal: Schnitzel with mushroom gravy and lemon zest, spatzle, and potato salad!   

best memory: when my marching band won grand champion my senior year. Everyone was so shocked that it felt like we got punched in the chest, and while most bands stand at attention during it, our band director let the seniors break into cheers and hug each other, because it had been so long since our band won anything. All the other bands were confused about us being so happy, but we were crying and cheering for hours that we didn’t seem to care. best friend: IRL gal who is like a sister to me. best relative: Sister. best pet: Silver Tabby by the name of Jen! You’ll see me post about her sometimes (with pics) best celebrity: Danny Devito? Weird Al? Markiplier? Anyone kind, really!

one random fact about you: You can read a random fact I posted here. one random fact about your day: I actually woke up before 1 PM today! one random fact about your job/school: They were repaving the road so the scent almost made me pass out during the semester when I was walking into the building. one random fact about your favorite tv show: I’ll be cheap and go Hazbin Hotel, but it isn’t out yet but (opinion) it’s such a fun project to watch grow. one random fact you wish was a fact but it isn’t: Becoming a teacher is easy and people understand that being one is a HUGE responsibility that means you have to work hard and your students are officially your second children (WHETHER THEY ARE 3 OR 22).

Tag five people: @huskofachance @suoitnep @purpleshopkeep @licoriceblackaliceangel @princesscfredemption

[moondancewrites]

Lunch Break

Pairing: Sebastian Stan/Reader

Warnings: Some fluff, eventual smut (in part two)

Author’s Notes:  This is my first Sebastian Stan fiction.  It was meant to be a one-shot, but ended up being two parts.  The second part can be found here.

Finally.  Lunch time.  Your stomach rumbled as you made your way down to the corner deli that you started to go to nearly every day since you moved into the city six months ago.  It was close, it was good, and it was cheap - three of your favorite things.  Your afternoon meeting had run extra long and you were famished by the time you made the bell ding as you entered the deli.

“Man,” you grumbled to yourself, noticing how long the line was today.  Was there some kind of special going on?  It usually wasn’t this bad.  Then again, you usually didn’t eat this late; maybe it was always like this at 1 pm.  Crap… this was going to eat up all of your break time.  You were too wrapped up in thinking about your schedule that you almost didn’t notice the man in front of you turn around and smile over his shoulder.  Your disappointment in the line must have amused him.

Holy shit.  You knew him.  Well, not actually.  But you knew his face.  What was his name?  You knew it.  It was on the tip of your tongue.  He was that one guy!  The … Snow soldier?  No, that wasn’t it.  Snow captain?  Nope.  You looked up at the ceiling as if it would have the answer.  Obviously, it didn’t.  But maybe your phone did.  He was in that new Avengers movie that came out a few months ago - you knew at least that much.  You looked it up on Google and scrolled down the cast list.  Winter Soldier!

“That’s it!” you said a little too loudly.  The Winter Soldier, whose real name was Sebastian Stan according to Google, turned around again with a quizzical look on his face.  You felt the heat rise in your cheeks.  He wasn’t the only one who took notice of your sudden outburst.  “Sorry,” you said with a wince, averting the gaze of everyone who turned at your exclamation.

“No big.”  He shrugged, smiling at you once more … Man, that was a nice smile.  Kind and disarming.  And pretty sexy, if you were being honest with yourself.  There was that heat again; this time it was starting in your toes.  You looked down as if a stern gaze would make it stop and when you looked back up, his smile was gone.  His back was to you once more, looking down at his phone.

What was he doing here?  You wondered.  You’d seen your fair share of celebrities since you moved from Idaho, but not usually in this part of the city and not usually midday on a Wednesday.  Curious, you thought to yourself.  Except it wasn’t to yourself.

“What’s curious?” Sebastian inquired, turning to you again.

“Huh?”

“You said curious,” he said with a chuckle.  “And now …” There was that smile again … “Well, I guess I’m curious about what’s curious.”

“Oh.”  Think.  Think.  Don’t say something stupid.  But say something, you idiot!  Too much time has passed now; you’re definitely looking like an idiot.  “Just … something on my phone.”  That’s the best you could come up with?  Pitiful.  

“Ah.”  He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Is it always this crowded in here?” He gestured to the line that was growing behind you.

“I usually come in earlier, so I don’t really know.”  You had forgotten how hungry you were until your stomach reminded you again.  You prayed it was only audible to you.

“A friend recommended their Italian sandwich, but I’m not sure it’s worth the wait …”

“It is” you assured him.

“Oh, yeah?”  His smile widened and yours did so in return.

“Definitely.  Top notch,” you replied.  He took a step toward you and you couldn’t help but take in the smell of his cologne; he smelled fantastic.

“I’m going to hold you to that, then,” he said in almost a whisper, winking at you.   Your breath caught in your throat and you were sure that he heard it because of the way he smiled at you - he was obviously very aware of how charming he was.

“Mm-hmm,” was all you managed to get out.

“Eh-hem.”  Both you and Sebastian turned to look behind you.  A tall and lanky man in a sweater vest with pursed lips motioned to you both.  “The line is moving.”

“Oh.  Right,” Sebastian said with a chuckle.  “Sorry, man.”

Sebastian moved forward and you followed, making sure to keep a good distance.  Your stomach was getting louder now and it that spelled certain embarrassment.  Sebastian obviously didn’t get the memo, leaning back and saying under his breath, “Someone’s got his underoos in a twist.”  You can’t help but giggle.

“Yeah.  I’m not sure how he’s going to get his food in there with his lips pursed so tight.”  Sebastian full on guffawed at your observation and this time it was him that people were looking at.  To be fair, though, people were already looking at him.  He wasn’t exactly incognito.  He was wearing dark jeans and a pale blue V-neck that was almost the same color as his eyes.  Yes, you had noticed them.  How could you not?  They were quite … eye-catching.  He wore a baseball hat and had sunglasses hooked on the V of his shirt.  Maybe the sunglasses helped, but inside he was easy to spot.  He had stubble, too.  You were pretty sure he had that in the Avengers movie.  But his hair was much shorter, or at least it looked like it was under the cap.

“So, do you come here often?”  Sebastian asked, inching up as another person completed their order.  “Wow … that sounded like a line.”  He adjusted his hat by the bill.

“Did it?” you asked with a chuckle.  He just shrugged.  Was it a line?  Was it not?  The shrug was not helpful.  You brushed it off; or tried to.  “Yeah.  My office is right around the corner and the food is good and pretty cheap.  Although, my waistline is not a big fan of the aforementioned Italian sandwich.”

“Your waistline?  It doesn’t have any right to complain from where I’m standing.”  Your eyes squint at him.  “I mean, it looks great.  Good.  I mean… you look nice.”  He shakes his head.  “Wow, Seb…”

“Seb?” you asked, trying to ignore that heat that’s definitely up passed your knees now.

“Oh.  Yeah, that’s me.”  He held his hand out.  “I’m Sebastian.”

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand.  It was surprisingly soft.

“Y/N,” he repeated.  You liked the way it sounded when it came from his lips.  They were very nice lips, too.  Full and pouty and-

“Eh-hem!”  Sweater vest man was back but this time you were grateful to him for pulling him out of your little world.  Not only was there a big space between Sebastian and the person in front of him, but you were still holding hands.  

“Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your hand from his.

“Are you?” he smirked.

“NEXT!” Georgie, the owner’s son and heir-apparent to Sal’s Delicatessen shouted out.  He was a sweet guy - he always gave you extra cheese on your salad.

“That’s you,” you nodded.

“You go ahead,” Sebastian replied, motioning for you to go ahead of him.

“Oh, no.  You got here first.  Plus, I’m not sure what I want yet.  Some guy has been distracting me from looking at the menu.”  In truth, you always got the same thing, but the adorable look on his face when he pointed to himself and mouthed ‘me?’ was worth the little white lie.  You nodded at him.

“But don’t you come here all the time?”

“Yeah, but variety is the spice of life,” you said, smiling widely.

“That’s tru-”

“If one of you doesn’t go, I’m going to jump ahead.” Sweater vest had turned red in the face.  You believed him.

“Alright, man.  Calm down,” Sebastian replied.  He turned away from you and ordered his food.

“That’ll be 10.50,” Georgie said.  Your eyes followed Sebastian’s hand as it went to his back pocket, patting for his wallet.  You bit your lip and wondered how you hadn’t noticed how amazing his ass was before that moment.  You’d been standing behind the man for at least 15 minutes and hadn’t noticed those firm cheeks what were snuggly wrapped in denim.

“Shit,” Sebastian murmured, feeling in his pockets.  “I must have left my wallet back at the theater.”

“No money, no sandwich,” Georgie said with a furrowed brow.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  Sweater vest really needed to take a chill pill.

“I’ve got you,” you chimed in, stepping up to the counter.  “Add on a chicken caesar Georgie?”  Georgie’s brow unfurrowed and he smiled at you, nodding.

“What?  No, I can’t let you.”  Sebastian put his hand over yours as you reached out to hand Georgie your card.

“Sure you can.”  You looked into his eyes and saw the sheepish uncertainty; it was endearing as all get out.  “It’s the least I can do after talking up that sandwich.”

“But-” he started.

“Really, it’s nothing.”  Georgie took your card and swiped it, handing it back to you.  “See? Already done.”

“Well, thanks.”  Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  “That’s really kind.”

“Just pay it forward,” you replied with a smile.  He nodded.

Despite the long line, your food came fast.  Thank god for that, you thought, since you only had 15 minutes until you had to be back up for a meeting.

“So, you know you have to stick around and eat with me.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, yeah.  We made a deal.  If this sandwich sucks, I’m holding you accountable.”

“Right.  And how do you plan on doing that?”  you asked, finding a recently vacated high-top in the corner of the deli that looked out on the busy street.  Sebastian pulled your chair out for you and your heart skipped a beat.  This dude could go from charming to intoxicatingly sexy to sweet as hell in no time at all - that was a dangerous talent.

“Well, I figure if it sucks then you have to let me show you what good food is by letting me take you to dinner.”  You nearly choked on your water and Sebastian laughed, although you could tell he felt bad doing so.  “You okay?”

“What?  Oh, yeah.  Fine.”  You cleared your throat.  “Just down the wrong pipe is all.”  Bullshit.  “So … what happens if you like the sandwich?”  Sebastian leaned across the small table, getting close enough for you to breathe him in again.  You looked up into his eyes and nibbled on your bottom lip nervously.  Sebastian took notice, his eyes falling to your lips before moving back up.

“I’m really hoping I don’t,” he said.  Sitting back up, he took a bite.  You held your breath as he chewed.  “Hmm,” he said, swallowing.  “Well, that’s an awful sandwich.”

“Liar,” you laughed, pushing at his shoulder.  It was rock hard.  Right, you remembered.  Avenger.

“No.”  He made a grossed out face.  “Honestly.  It’s nasty.  Paul is an idiot.”

“Uh huh …”  You took a bite of your focaccia bread.  “Sure.”

“Am I that bad of an actor?” Sebastian said, leaning on the table.  You shrugged.

“I’ve seen better.”   Sebastian’s jaw dropped.  “Kidding.”

“Phew.”  Sebastian fiddled with his hat again.  “I thought I was going to have to change professions.”

“That would be a pity,” you said simply.  Sebastian just smiled at you.  “You know, you can eat the sandwich.  I’ll still go out to dinner with you.”

“Yeah?” His eyes lit up.

“Sure.  I mean, you owe me - I bought you lunch.”  

“Right.”  He nodded, clearing his throat.

“Kidding,” you assured him, putting you hand over his for a moment.

“Maybe you should be an actress,” he replied, taking another bite of his sandwich which he obviously thoroughly enjoyed.

“Who says I’m not?” you said.  He looked at you quizzically.  “I’m not.”

“Oh.  Good.”  He heaved a sigh of relief.

“Good?”

“Yeah.  Actresses can be … I just want to date someone normal, I guess.”

“I’m far from normal.”  You chuckled for a moment and then it caught in your throat.  Did he say date?  

“Well, you’re definitely intriguing.”  That word had never been used to describe you before.  You liked it.  

“Shit, what time is it?” You looked down at your phone.  You had five minutes to be upstairs for your meeting.  “I have to go!”  You started to gather up your stuff in a frantic rush.

“Oh.  Well, can I get your number?”  You stopped to look at Sebastian and his eyes seemed to sparkle with hope.  How could you refuse those eyes?  You were never going to, anyway.

“Definitely.”  Sebastian handed you his phone and you punched in your digits.

“I’ll text you,” he said as you headed out the door.  You wondered if he actually would.

As you made your way down the hall after your meeting, your phone dinged.  You couldn’t help but smile when you saw the unfamiliar number.

‘Did you make it back in time?’

‘Just barely,’ you replied.  ‘I definitely worked off that focaccia bread running back here.’

‘In those heels?’  He noticed your heels?  What else had he noticed?

‘Just call me Wonder Woman.’

‘Black Widow suits you better ;)’  You smiled to yourself.  ‘So … Dinner tonight?’

‘Tonight?’  That was soon.  But to be honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.  Tonight would be great.

‘Yeah.  I kinda can’t stop thinking about you.  Plus, there’s this new Moroccan restaurant down the street from my hotel that I’ve been eyeing up since I got into town.  I’ve just been waiting to have some company.  So ... ‘

‘Tonight would be great.  I get off at 6.  So, maybe we can meet there around 7:30?’

‘Great.  I’ll text you the address.’

What does one wear on a date with an Avenger?  You stared at your closet.  It was a warm summer night, so it had to be cool.  You had no idea how fancy this restaurant was, so you thought you should play it safe with a dress.  

“Nope.  Definitely not.  ABSOLUTELY not,” you said to yourself, going through your dresses.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Tina, your roommate, peeked her head around the corner.  “Got a hot date or something?”

“You could say that …”

“No way.  Really?”  You nodded.  “You actually have a date?”  She walked in.  “Who is he?”

“His name is Sebastian.  We met at the deli.”

“Sebastian,” Tina purred.  “That’s a sexy name.”  Tina was, as you had discovered in the half-year you’d lived with her, a very open person about her sexuality.  There was seldom a night when she went to bed alone.  You didn’t judge her for it at all - she was young and having fun.  And she was gorgeous.  But that wasn’t your style.  Actually, you had never had a one-night stand.  It just wasn’t in your make-up.  You’d tried once or twice, but could never go through with it.  You needed a connection; not just sex.  What if Sebastian just wanted sex, though?  He was definitely the sexiest man you’d ever gone out with.  And you did feel a connection with him earlier that day - it was hard to deny it.  But, if he wanted to … would you?  Could you?  You were really leaning towards yes, and that made you nervous as all hell.

“You okay?” Tina grabbed a dress.  “Here.  You look amazing in this one.”  She pushed your blue wrap dress up against your body.  It was sleeveless and had a skirt that would twirl when you spun.  And it hugged you in all the right places.  “It shows off the twins and that great ass of yours.”

“Tina!” you exclaimed.

“What?  I call ‘em like I see ‘em.  And it’s hard not to notice yours.”

“Thank you?” you replied as she walked away.  She didn’t turn around, just twiddled her fingers in a wave.

“Have fun tonight.”

You swallowed hard, attempting to bury your nerves as you continued to get ready.  You curled your hair and pinned one side back, giving you a Veronica Lake-type ‘do.  You put on a little mascara and blush - not too much.  You weren’t much of a make-up gal.  You loved watching tutorials on YouTube, though, and you really didn’t know why.  

Your Lyft arrived precisely on time and you got to the restaurant with five minutes to spare.  Sebastian was already waiting when you pulled up - you’d notice that backside anywhere now.  The jeans had been replaced with blue slacks that somehow made his ass look even better.  He wore a white button down without a tie or jacket.  It was too hot out for that nonsense.  Anyway, you didn’t mind because that gave you more opportunity to see his bulging muscles.  The man was fit - that was certain.  His hair was no longer covered by a hat, which you were grateful for because he had great hair.  It looked just long enough to pull on in a moment of … Snap out of it, you told yourself; it was too early in the night for those thoughts.

You cleared your throat as you approached him.  He turned, his eyes and his smile widening as he took in the sight of you.

“Wow,” he breathed, rubbing the stubble on his chin.  “Y/N, you look … Wow.”

“Yeah?” you looked down, nervously fiddling with your purse.  “My roommate picked it out.”

“I’m going to have to write her a thank you letter,” Sebastian replied, stepping closer and taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips.  You bit your lip to stifle what you were sure would be a moan if it escaped your lips; no man had ever kissed your hand before.  His eyes fluttered as his lips gently pressed into the back of your hand and you noticed how long his eyelashes were; they were gorgeous.

“Thank you.  I mean, I’ll thank her.  For you.  I mean … “ Shut up!  Your mouth was going to fast for your brain to catch up and make anything coherent come out of it, but Sebastian didn’t seem to mind.  In fact, he seemed tickled by it.  He brought your hand down to your side but didn’t let go.

“Ready to go in?”  You nodded, hoping the silent answer would keep you from making an ass out of yourself.  But you couldn’t be silent all night and you knew it.

“You look really nice, too, by the way,” you said as you were seated.

“Thanks.”  He beamed.  You swooned, hoping you weren’t too obvious.  “So, Y/N … “ There he went again, saying your name like that.  It was almost as if he had a slight accent, but you couldn’t be sure.  It was so sensual, though, and your body was starting to react without your permission.  “What do you do?”

“I work for a marketing firm.  I just started a few months ago.  Before that, I worked in a stationary store in the middle of Idaho.”

“Oh?” Sebastian leaned in.  “What brought you here?”

“Well, I just turned 30-”

“No way.”  Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock.  You nodded.  “I was going to guess 27, tops.”

“Yeah, I guess I have a baby face.”  You shrugged.  He just smiled at you.  “Anyway, I felt like I was in a rut.  And I was channel surfing and saw a TV sitcom about a marketing firm on some random channel and I thought … that looks like fun.  Maybe I’ll try that.  So, I did.”

“Wow.  So, you just up and left on a whim?”

“I know.”  You shook your head, pushing your hair back behind your ear.  “It’s crazy-”

“It’s amazing.”  His smile was gone.  He was dead serious.  “To have the guts to just start fresh on the other side of the country?  Doing something new in a strange city all by yourself?  That’s … That’s brave.  That’s incredible.  Honestly, there aren’t many people out there who say ‘enough’ and go for something like that.”

“Oh.”  You were sure your cheeks were bright red.  “Yeah.  I guess I took a leap.”

“And you landed on your feet, too - even more amazing.”  

The waiter came by and asked if you were ready to order.  Neither of you had even glanced down at the menu, so Sebastian asked for a few more minutes.  After you ordered, you got back to talking.  You found out that he was actually born in Romania but had lived in New York since he was 12 and had been living in LA the last few years.  He was in town looking at a few theater options for the fall.  He loved theater and was looking for a chance to go back and now that he had some free time, albeit a very small amount, he  was taking the opportunity to come back.  Secretly you were hoping that it all panned out because that meant he’d be around more and you were enjoying the night so much that you hoped there might be more.

Other than that, he didn’t talk much about himself.  He seemed to want to know about you and there was something about him that made him so easy to talk to.  The only time you two weren’t talking was when you were eating, and the food was delicious.

“You know … I’ve never been so happy to lose money,” Sebastian said, taking a sip of wine after he finished his last bite of his meal.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Today when I lost my wallet.  I mean, if I had remembered it, I would have had to come up with another excuse to stick around you.”  You looked down at your plate, smiling sheepishly.  “And I definitely wanted to stick around you.”  He reached for your hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it.  “I still do …”

“I’m glad you lost your wallet.”  The waiter chose that moment to come with the check and his eyes widened.

“Don’t worry - I found it,” Sebastian assured him.  The waiter sighed with relief and left the table.  “That dude almost had a heart attack.”

“Yeah.  It was as if he didn’t think a woman could pay,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Well, of course you could.  But, like I said, I owe you.”

“I feel like this is a little bit more pricey than a sub-par Italian sandwich.”

“That sandwich was fucking delicious,” Sebastian said with a shit-eating grin.  You really liked the way he said that word.  It was like he knew exactly how to use it … and probably how to do it, you thought.  You crossed your legs.

“Ha!  I knew you loved it.”

“Again, my acting skills fail me.”  He shook his head at himself.  “I better brush up before I go back to the stage, huh?”

“I’d say it’s a necessity,” you replied, winking at him.  This time you could have sworn it was Sebastian’s cheeks that were turning pink.

Sebastian paid for the meal and, just as he had done earlier that day and when you got to the restaurant, he got up and pulled your chair out for you.

“So… what now?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets as you walked down the street together.  He walked close, but not too close.  You wished he were closer.

“Well, I do have work tomorrow so … I can’t really stay out too late.”

“Right,” Sebastian nodded.  “But it’s not too late yet, right?  It’s only … “ he looked at his watch, “Holy shit … how long were we in there?”

“A while,” you chuckled.  It hadn’t seemed like long at all, but the sun had set nearly an hour before you got out of the restaurant.  “I could go for a drink, though.”  Sebastian perked up.  “But just one.”

“Right.  Of course.  Just one.  Where?”  You shrugged.  “Well, my hotel is just around the corner … We could go to the bar there?”

Dangerous.  What if the bar was just a pregame to the room for him?  But the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help yourself.  You really wanted to go with him.  Hell, you really wanted him.  He was so charismatic and funny and sexy.  Every time he smiled at you or said something flirty you had to squeeze your thighs together.  Nobody had that effect on you in a very long time.  Maybe that was why - you hadn’t gotten any in so long - but you knew you were kidding yourself if you thought that was the only reason.  Sebastian was the sexiest man you’d ever talked to; let alone went out on a date with.  And the way he looked at you suggested that he felt similarly about you.  You caught him staring quite a few times and it only made your desire for him grow.

It was time to take another leap.

“Alright,” you replied with a smile, brushing your hair back behind your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.  But just one.”  You held up your finger at him.

One turned into three and 9:30 pm turned into nearly 11.  You talked and talked and flirted and flirted and every time you got a new drink, your bodies seemed to get closer.  By the third drink, your hips were touching and you were both distinctly aware of the contact between your bodies.  

“We could have a nightcap upstairs … Maybe.  If you wanted.”

You definitely wanted.  But should you?  Probably not.  Definitely not.  But he … You looked up into his eyes and your breath caught in your throat.  His lids were hooded but the blue still shown through.  His eyes were simply hypnotic.  He scratched his stubble and wetted his full lips. You nibbled on your lip in response.  Without a word, Sebastian brought his hand to your shoulder, ghosting his fingertips down your arm.  Your eyelids fluttered as he leaned in to brush his lips against your cheek and back to your ear.  “Come up?” he whispered, his voice rough and sensual.

“Yes,” you replied without a second thought.  He pulled back.

“Yes?” he asked, his eyes widened in surprise.  You leaned in, resting your hand on his peck for support and as you did so, you heard Sebastian’s breath hitch.  You smiled to yourself, bringing your lips to his stubbled cheek and mimicking his moves from moments before, dragging your lips to his ear.  

“Yes.”