#chat we’re dining on fine art tonight

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

NO

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

*

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

*

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

*

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

LE

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

*

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

*

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

The Art of Love (Part 7) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day Weekend my loves! I’m finally getting back into this story. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish it up soon, but no promises. lol but I hope you enjoy. I wanted to get this out because this year the dates actually line up lol so here we are. 

Summary: You and Steve host his mom and Bucky for dinner. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers 

Rating: K+

Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots 

Word Count: 1968

Divider by: @whimsicalrogers​

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic) ​

You were unable to tear your eyes away from Steve as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it in the hamper, though you rolled your eyes when he laughed at you. It wasn’t until you heard him singing Sexyback that you huffed and turned back to the dresses.

You stared at your remaining options. You couldn’t help but smile when you came to a decision. If you were right, you knew exactly why it was his favorite. After you packed away the rest of the dresses you flopped down on the bed scrolling through your notifications.

“Did you make a decision?” Steve asked as he exited the bathroom, dressed in his jeans and white tank top but barefoot.

You gestured to the closet where the blue wrap dress hung next to his shirt.

Steve looked at it and grinned.

“My favorite.” Steve laid on his side next to you, propping his head in his hand. “We really should go back to California soon.”

You rolled on your side to mimic his position.

“I’d love that. Ooh maybe in the winter though because it’ll be nice and warm,” you giggled.

“That’s a great idea.”

You dropped your gaze from his and started tracing the pattern of his bedspread.

“What’s going through your head, sweetheart?” Steve asked as he covered your hand with his own.

“Just going over what’s left to do for tonight.”

“Everything is all set. There’s nothing left for you to do except to get ready.”

“How long do I have?”

Steve glanced at his phone.

“About an hour.”

“Okay, that’s probably enough time to make myself presentable,” you fretted.  

He cupped your cheek, focusing your attention on him.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. You are always beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. It’s my professional opinion. Are you doubting someone who almost has a bachelor’s in fine arts?” he demanded haughtily.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he beamed.

“That I do.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower. Take your time and relax. I even bought the candle you like.”

“Summer storm?”

“Yup.”

“You’re the best.”

You kissed him on the cheek as you climbed over him to go shower.

The shower helped calm your nerves and when the water ran cold you wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel Steve had bought just for you and padded back into the bedroom.

You kept the music on low as you got ready, fixing your hair and doing some light make up. When you were satisfied with your appearance you tugged on the dress and slid your feet into the low heels. The final touch was the silver necklace of a dancer that Steve had bought you for your first showcase.

“So how do I look?” you asked as you stood beside the TV.

“Beautiful.”

He patted the spot beside him on the couch and you happily joined him. He immediately twined his fingers through yours.

“I’m really glad that you’re here with me tonight. I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

He brought your hands up so he could kiss your knuckles you couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at your lips. Your shower and primping had taken less time than you expected so you and Steve passed the time watching the Good Place.

You were tucked neatly into Steve’s side as you waited for his mom and Bucky to arrive. As his nerves mounted yours seemed to recede and you rubbed soothing circles over his knuckles.

“Relax, Steve. It’s your mom and Bucky. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s a lot to worry about. The three people I love the most are all going to be in the same place.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about me meeting your mom.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me. The three people who have the most dirt on me in the same room. Yikes.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I live to lift you up. But I hope she brought baby pictures.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

He pulled you closer and kissed the crown of your head.

“Good because I do. Mmm. You smell good.”

“I smell like you.” you giggled. “I forgot my shower gel.”

“Yeah but it’s your shampoo. It’s the perfect combination.”

You were interrupted by keys jangling and the door swinging open.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Smudge. Hey, Stevie.”

Neither of you moved from the couch as he hung his jacket up and walked into the kitchen.

“God it smells great in here.”

“Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare eat anything to spoil your appetite.”

“But I’m starving,” he whined.

“We’re having appetizers as soon as Steve’s mom gets here. Just wait.”

Bucky pouted into his beer as he sank into the opposite end of the couch.

“I promise it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is, doll”

“You’re too sweet, Buck. What did you do today?”

“I spent most of it at the hospital. A spot on their Saturday shift opened up so I took it.”

“Aw that’s great. You didn’t think you’d be able to this semester.”

“I know. I’m really glad. There’s this really sweet girl who just is amazing.”

You and Steve shared a smile at the excitement and fondness in his voice.

The three of you chatted, until your nerves got the best of you and you moved into the kitchen to triple check everything for dinner. The boys trailed behind you, but stayed out of your way.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it buzzed and you tracked Steve as he went to greet his mom. Bucky used your distraction to swipe a grape earning him a rap on the knuckles with a cheese knife.

“Hands off, Buck.”

“Aw come on, doll.”

“No more.”

Bucky pouted but kept his hands to himself as you retrieved the glasses from the cabinet.

Steve was laughing when he opened the door with the one and only Sarah Rogers trailing behind him. She smiled brightly when she spotted you and Bucky. You quickly wiped your hands on the dish towel and hurried to greet her.

“Hi, Mrs. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to see you, darling. Please call me, Sarah.”

Once Steve took her coat she leaned forward to kiss you on each cheek.

“Hello, James.”

“Hey, Aunt Sarah,” he grinned around a mouthful of cheese.

“Buck!”

“Sorry, Smudge!”

Rolling your eyes you headed back into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ma?”

“I’ll just have some water.”

“Regular water or seltzer water.”

“Regular please, dear.”

“Sweetheart do you want anything.”

“Water please.”

You retrieved the charcuterie board fiddling slightly trying to disguise the gap Bucky’s munchies had left. He had the good grace to look apologetic when you glared in his direction.

Sarah had made herself comfortable in the arm chair and Bucky took the chair and a half across from her leaving you to sit beside Steve on the couch. He patted your knee before taking your hand as he had earlier.

“How was your Saturday? Did you work today?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m off this weekend. I went grocery shopping. Needed to stock up on a few items. It was a mad house though.”

“Really? It was quiet when we were there,” Steve hummed.

“We were there at like 6:30,” you pointed out.

“True. And it was getting crowded when we were finishing up.”

“I wonder why.”

Bucky and Sarah gaped at the two of you.

“You two really do live under a rock in that arts building don’t you?”

Sarah laughed at Bucky’s observation.

“Why? What are we missing?”

“There’s a blizzard coming tomorrow. Everyone was stocking up before the storm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh. It’s been on every news station for a week. What have you been doing?”

“Avoiding my phone at all costs,” you admitted.

Steve shrugged his agreement. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Well, I hope you got more than just food for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re all set,” Steve assured his mom. “We’ll just hunker down here for the next few days.”

“Absolutely. It’s not like we were planning to leave for the next couple of days anyways,” you agreed.

“Oh did you two have plans for the holiday?”

You squirmed under Sarah’s amused but expectant gaze, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“Tomorrow is our annual Lord of the Rings Marathon. We do it every year,” Steve explained with a grin.

“How did that come about?”

“During Freshman year, I got really sick right around Valentine’s Day. And my roommate, and pretty much everyone else I knew had gone on this ski trip that whole week. Steve was worried about me so he brought me pancakes from the dining hall and chicken noodle soup and stayed with me the whole weekend. We watched a ton of movies, but somehow Lord of the Rings became a tradition.”  

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah it is.”

You squeezed as his hand as he looked over at you with that soft smile you loved so much.

Steve patted his stomach and hummed as he sat back in his chair, nudging your knee with his. Bucky was wiping his bowl with the last of the rolls, and Sarah demurely wiped at her mouth.

“Dinner was absolutely delicious. I’ve got to say, Y/n, I’m impressed you’ve taught my son to cook.”

“I wouldn’t say I taught him. We more figured it out together. Poor Bucky had to taste test a lot of nearly inedible things.”

“Except her baking. That’s always been amazing,” Bucky piped up as he shoved the last roll into his mouth.  

“Speaking of, I should get the pie in the oven to warm up or we won’t have dessert until midnight,” you fretted.  

“I’ve got it, sweetheart. Just relax.”

“I’m sure the boys won’t mind cleaning up.”

You glance at Steve who nods encouragingly before hopping to his feet, squeezing your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head as he passed by. Bucky finished chewing and began to clear the dishes.

“Why don’t we move over to the couch?” she suggested.

You nodded and grabbed your glass and followed her, sitting next to the older woman.

“I’m so glad that we’re finally getting to spend some time together. Steve never stops talking about you. You’re clearly very special to him.”

You couldn’t help but look over at him, smiling as he elbowed Bucky out of the way at the sink.

“He’s very special to me too.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. I know he can get lost in his work.”

“He does the same for me.”

“I also have to say, you’re a beautiful dancer. I’m looking forward to your performance at the Showcase. It’s always been a highlight in the past.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m flattered.”

“I also saw that you and Steve were celebrating a new job last night?”

“Yes, I just joined the Howling Commando Stage Troupe as a dancer and assistant choreographer.”

“Oh that’s so exciting. Congratulations. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes, absolutely. They’ll send me the info for the summer series in a few weeks.”

“And how does one manage being a dancer and a choreographer at the same time.”

“The Howlies always mount two shows simultaneously, so I’ll be dancing in one show while I help choreograph the other.”

“Ah, I see. Well that is quite the undertaking, but I’m sure it will all be beautiful. You’ll have to let me know when opening night is. I would love to come and see you.”

Her earnest support caught you off guard.

“Of course,” you finally managed. “Thank you.”  

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed ! 

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Here’s a half formed thought about Calum going back to school at the same time as you during the crazy ass pandemic. Enjoy. 

Reader insert. No race or gender. 

********************

You were always going back to school. When you ran into Calum last year--though it really wasn’t you running into Calum; he was doing his grocery shopping and you checked him out--you knew being a clerk at the grocery store wasn’t the end all be all for you. 

What you had noticed over the couple of months is that whenever Calum seemed to be doing his grocery shopping, he always came through your line. It didn’t matter if you were the only line opened or on the weekends one of the several lines open, Calum was there. He started with small talk, asking you how your day was going. And you asked about his. He shocked you the first time he used your name. But you forgot that it was on your name tag. “Well if you know my name it’s only fair I know yours,” you teased. 

“Calum,” he returned easily, taking the brown paper bags after you carefully packed them. 

Sometimes you noticed his dog in the cart and asked about them. You learned his name is Duke and that he’s been affectionately dubbed Baby Grandpa by Calum. And eventually, though you hadn’t really meant to, you noticed things he bought frequently and whenever you happened across his path while walking to or from back break, you’d let him know if there was a sale going on. 

And thought it was only just friendly chat while you were on the clock, you were out pumping gas on your way to lunch with your friends when you heard your name. As you turned, there was Calum, walking out of the gas station, waving as he pushed his sunglasses back to cover his eyes. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you laughed, waving in return. What you hadn’t expected as Calum walked across the lot to the pumps is that he would chat until the question of a date fell off from his lips. And sure Calum was attractive, and sure the conversation over the weeks while you checked out his items had turned a little flirty but you hadn’t expected that Calum felt anything remotely serious about you to ask you on a date. 

But you accepted. And there you were able to talk over a nice picnic that excluded Duke, but at your explicit disappointment at not seeing the old dog, Calum promised that next time, he would make sure to include Duke. That picnic lead to a movie, which lead to dinner, which lead to a date shopping for Duke because of the upcoming holidays, which lead to dinner at his place, and then hanging out with his friends for a quick drink one night, which lead to movie nights at each others place. 

And somewhere in all of it, you were dating Calum. He called when you had the closing shift at work to make sure you got home safely. Or if you spent the night, he’d make you breakfast, and he soothed your back as you hunched in front of your laptop to paid for applications for grad school. And he listened to the way you talked about knowing you couldn’t stay in this spot forever and he encouraged you go back to school. You could feel out that school was something that Calum was considering but he hadn’t been too serious about it. Not the band, the tours, the in the studio’s late--just never felt like he had the time.

Occasionally, you talked about some of the online courses you saw the schools had. But Calum hadn’t fully budged. By the time you got news about you going back to school, with funding, and sorting that news out with your job, Calum asked you if you thought he should give a crack at school. You told him the truth, that if he wanted to go for it, he should. And soon, things crumbled globally with the pandemic. And locked in the house most of the time, you dropped subtle and not so subtle hints that making those online classes might be closer and closer to coming true. 

Now you’re here, sitting at the dining room table, your printed out readings and books scattered in front of you. Calum’s on the couch. His notes on the coffee table. You’re in class, listening to the lecture headphones in and you look over to Calum, his class ended just as yours started. His fingers are working over the keys. 

He’s only in a couple of classes. And though you’re in one more class than him, there’s the added struggle of the work you do too. It’s administrative, but there’s meetings once a week and you still find yourself being offloaded onto with lots of small annoying data tracking tasks. It’s paying for school, so you do it with minimal complaints, but a few nonetheless. 

You’re so lost watching Calum working that you don’t even realize that the class you’re in is preparing for small breakout rooms until someone calls your name. You blink and turn back to the screen. “Sorry, zoned out. We’re discussing the reading, yeah?”

Your group nods and you manage to get back on track until the end of your class. Just as you’re closing down the Zoom app, at least for the half hour before your meeting for work, Calum calls out. “Class done?”

You nod, popping out the earbuds. “Yeah. Got that meeting for work soon though.”

He hums, glancing up from the screen. He seems tired. Most of your nights both of you are up kinda late. Though, you make sure to turn it in early and practically drag Calum to bed a couple hours later. He’ll get caught up, work way too late into the night and then have to be up early for band meetings too. “Want me to fix dinner tonight then?”

“It’s my night. I can still do it.” 

“You sure. I know you’ve got to fix that spreadsheet too and do your readings for the week.”

You shake your head. “I can still cook. Might even start during our meeting.”

Calum laughs, remembering the other times you turned off your camera and shuffled around the kitchen to cook in meetings or in classes too. “Nonsense. Almost done with this paper, so I’ll cook. But as an exchange, if you don’t mind, could you read over this? It’s only a response to a reading and it’s not super long or anything. But this instructor’s a fucking hardass.”

You nod. You’ve read over his papers before. Most of the times it’s just making sure he has correct citations and you might make a note about needing a thesis statement or needing more of his analysis between his evidence. But it’s not much that you ever feel like you need to mention on his papers. You’ve found, most often, what Calum needs is just someone to listen to his ideas so he can sort them out loud and then all you do is take down the notes of what he said. Listening to him talk about this philosophy class and Literature class is awe inspiring. He always has more questions than answers, but it’s those questions that always lead him to some pretty amazing places in his writing. 

“Is this the professor that got on you about the spacing on that first paper?”

Calum nods, pushing the laptop to the coffee table on top of his notes. “Yes! Even you couldn’t see what was wrong, so I still don’t understand what they got on me about. And I formatted the second outline in the exact same way and didn’t get any points taken off, so I really don’t understand.”

“Well, it could’ve been Google Docs. When you downloaded it into Pages, the formatting might’ve gotten wonky? But even the Pages document looked fine, so I really don’t know what happened there. But you’re doing it all in Pages now and then exporting to a PDF when you submit correct?”

“Yeah, I am. Thanks for that tip though. I didn’t realize Pages wouldn’t work in the submission center.” His shuffle into the kitchen is paired by the click of Duke’s paws on the floor. Calum presses a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Spaghetti?”

Holding onto his forearm draped around your chest, you nod. “Spaghetti sounds lovely.”

“I saw you staring at me while you were in class,” he whispers close to your ear. 

“What? You’re hot. Sue me.”

His chuckle is soft, a rumble in his chest that you feel through your back. “Most definitely can’t sue you over that. But don’t make me go in the office. I need you to pass these classes.”

“I appreciate the concern, dear. But I think I’m doing pretty good. Besides, I’m signed up for a random art history class. I can say you’re a piece of art I needed to analyze.”

The laughter’s not soft now, he full on giggles--a bit of it getting cut off as he inhales into the sound. “You’re ridiculous.” His lips are soft against your temple as he stands back up. “So spaghetti. Garlic bread is a must. Salad?”

“Ugh, I guess I do need veggies.”

“Yes, yes you do.” He continues into the kitchen, the clinking of pots hitting the isle’s of the stove and bowls, boxes, and jars setting onto the counter. 

“How’s the other class going? You guys starting your novels yet?”

“19th Century Lit is well, 19th Century Lit.” Calum seemed intrigued by the Evil Children’s class you told him you saw. But it had filled by the time Calum got his work schedule sorted out. He turned to 19th Century Lit as his backup, and so far, it appeared to be going well. “We’re spending the first part on poetry. And that’s the most interesting. The rest of the books sound a little boring.”

You hum, nodding even though he can’t see you. “Hopefully the class picks up. I took a look at the spring classes. If you want to focus more on poetry there’s a Modern Poetry post 1930��s class.”

The glance is quick, but his brows are pulled upwards, in a slight intrigue. “I’d consider it for sure.”

The alarm on your phone goes off, letting you know you have ten minutes until the meeting. You turn back to your computer and start logging into the meeting. “You haven’t had an assignment for that class yet have you?”

“No. The midterm’s coming up soon though and I don’t even know how to begin to study for it.”

You pop one earbud in making sure your mic is muted. “You know I got you, babe.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got your classes too. I-I might stop by the professors office hours and ask for help.”

“That’s always a good idea. Do you know when they are?”

“Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s.” You know he doubled checked them because he probably wouldn’t have that readily available from the first day of classes. “Gonna go tomorrow.”

Popping up from the chair, you press a kiss to his cheek, as the pan sizzles just a little and the pot of water not showing signs of bubbles just yet. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Calum returns, pulling you fully into his chest for a swift kiss. “Now, go! You’ve got a meeting.”

“Meeting schmeeting. Would rather kiss you.” You kiss him one last time before ducking back into the chair and turning the camera on. You notice just faintly in the background Calum’s visible as he shuffles between pans and pots. Duke walks up to you, standing up to get attention. 

“Oh, you know I can’t say no,” you mutter, setting him in your lap.

“Is that Duke?” your supervisor asks. He’s crashed a couple meetings before. 

You unmute and hold him better for everyone to see. “Yeah. His pops is cooking us dinner and that lack of attention just won’t do.” 

“Hey, you say that like I don’t love him,” Calum retorts, threatening the back of your head with a spatula. You giggle before muting yourself and place Duke back into your lap, digging up the word document you’ve started for all the meeting notes. 

Your supervisor laughs. “Well I think he’s getting plenty of attention in the chat.” There are some more dings as people join the meeting. “Looks like we have everyone, so let’s begin.”

tagging @calumscalm because you might still be taking that exam, love. 

and @5-secondsofcolor bc sunday reads bubs. 

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Home - Part 5

It had been a couple of weeks since Jack had turned up out of the blue, i had stayed with Bucky and the kids for a week while Bucky had a restraining order sorted out. I was back home now but not before Bucky had arranged for a state of the art security system for the house (which Steve came round to install), i had tried to tell him a standard alarm system would be fine but he insisted that i had this one.....I would even get alerts on my phone if anyone was detected approaching the property.

It had definitely put my mind at ease about being home alone.

Thursday night i was at the Barnes residence later than expected, Bucky had been held up on a case he was working. Allie had been unusually quiet tonight, every time i asked if she was okay she just nodded and after dinner she took herself up to bed.

It was nearing midnight when Bucky finally got home, i had been asleep in the armchair with the chunky blanket over me but woke up hearing the front door close. Bucky walked in looking exhausted but still gave me a smile when he locked eyes with me.

"Hey doll, I'm sorry its so late. You didn't have to wait up you should have gone to bed"

"I was going to but i wanted to talk to you about Allie" i told him rubbing my eyes trying to wake up.

"She okay?" He asked looking worried, i nodded quickly as he sat on the table in front of the armchair i was in.

"She's just not been herself since i picked them up from school. She's been so quiet all evening Bucky and thats just not like her..... she had dinner then took herself to bed. I tried asking if she was okay and all i got was a nod"

"That does sound odd for Allie, i'll talk to her in the morning"

"Okay, well i'll just do their lunches then I'm gonna turn in for night" i said throwing the blanket off and getting up.

"I'll help you with that, get it done quicker".

I made the sandwiches while Bucky grabbed the fruit packs and juice boxes.

He zipped up the lunch bags after adding the sandwiches i made and put them into the girls school bags. I was wiping down the side when i heard Bucky mumble "shit" under his breath.

"Everything okay?"

"I think i know whats got Allie acting like she is..." he said handing me a sheet of paper from Allie's bag.

'Mother Daughter Picnic' was written at the top of the page signed by Ms Harper for tomorrow!

"Is this a yearly thing?"

"No, they've never had one of these before"

"This woman is crazy! She doing this because you turned her down?"

"I have no idea" he run a hand through his hair "i'll just keep Allie home from school if you dont mind having her?"

"I dont mind at all Bucky you know that. Or i could go with Allie?" I shrugged, this woman was really pissing me off!

"You'd do that?"

"Of course! Ms Harper already thinks we're married so why not" i chuckled rolling my eyes "i dont want her thinking she's got one over on you either"

"Im sure Allie would love having you there with her Y/N" Bucky smiled.

"Do you think Steve could watch Rosie while i do the picnic with Allie?"

"Yeah not a problem, i'll call him in the morning get him to swing by"

"Sounds good, well I'm gonna go get some sleep...good night Buck" i smiled before turning to head up to my room, he grabbed my hand stopping me as i passed him and pulled me in for a hug.

"Thank you doll, you dont know how much this means to us. Your amazing" he kissed the top of my head and took a step back "goodnight Y/N"

"Goodnight" i replied quickly feeling my cheeks burn and went up to my room before he had a chance to see the effect he had on me!

"Allie, baby i saw a letter in your bag about a Mother Daughter picnic at school today" Bucky said at breakfast the next day, she nodded sadly not looking at any of us.

"What would you say if Y/N went with you?"

She looked up with wide eyes at me then Bucky "really?"

"If thats okay with you sweetheart, i'd love to come to a picnic with you" i smiled at her, she broke out in a huge smile climbing down from her chair and running over to me.

"Thank you Y/N" she squeezed me tightly back to the happy Allie we were used to.

She leaned back and placed her little hands either side of my face and smiled "I love you!"

If it was possible my heart would have melted right there!

"Awww Allie! I love you too sweetheart" i smiled at her.

"I love you too Y/N!" Brooke added not wanting to be left out, i chuckled before smiling over at her.

"I love you too Brooklyn James, i love you all"

I caught Bucky smiling at his girls then at me, i quickly returned his smile.

"Okay, i gotta go my girls" he got up pulling on his suit jacket "Steve will be here at 11am to watch Rosie"

"Great"

"How about i swing by the school and pick you girls up today?" Bucky suddenly added like it was the best idea he'd ever had.

"You having a early day?" I asked sounding surprised.

"Yeah, i'll be there to pick you and the girls up" he smiled kissing Rosie and Brooke on the head then coming over to where Allie was still in my lap to kiss her, he surprised me when he kissed my head too.

"See you girls later, love you" he called leaving the dining room, and with that he was gone.

"Okay, lets get you guys to school".

Steve was at the house at 11am as promised, i didn't have to be at the school til 12 so we sat and had a coffee and a chat while we waited. When i told Steve id have to walk to the school because Bucky had insisted on picking us up afterwards, he offered to drop me there instead saying he didn't want me wandering alone.

"So, Mother daughter picnics huh?" Steve said teasingly and wriggling his eyebrows as he drove me to the school.

"Yep looks like it" i nodded " i love the girls, id do anything for them.... even going to mother daughter picnics organised by bitter old bitches"

"Ms Harper definitely fits the bitter old bitch title" Steve laughed "she's liked Buck since high school! You'd think she'd get over him already.... i mean his not even that great" He rolled his eyes playfully making me laugh.

"Thats a lie and you know it, your both great guys"

"Aw thanks Y/N!"

"Shut up Steve, dont make me take it back"

"Oh no you can't take it back now"

"Fine!"

"But in all seriousness, you and Bucky seem to be getting along well...."

"Yeah of course, it'd be kinda awkward if we didn't being as I'm there with kids all day" i scoffed.

"Seems like a little more than a work relationship though"

"Well its not" i shook my head looking to Steve "do you think im sleeping with him or something?"

"No! no of course not..... are you? I mean it'd be totally okay of you were..."

"Im not! God Steve...." i huffed as he pulled up out the front of the school "i can't believe you would ask me that"

"Why? Its not such a crazy thought! I think your good together, and i haven't seen him this happy in a very long time....I think a lot of that has to do with you"

"Your crazy!"

"Tell me you dont have feelings for him then..."

"Shut up Steve" i threw the door open "im late now! Thanks!" I turned to check on Rosie she was still fast asleep in the back seat "dont be bringing this shit up to Bucky!" I closed the door and marched into the school.

I followed the signs for the picnic around the outside of the building that then led onto the playing field where benches had been set out. All the benches were filled with moms and smiling little girls, then i spotted Allie standing on her own away from everyone with Ms Harper! I jogged over only to hear Ms Harper make a comment to Allie about having no mom and that she shouldn't here at the picnic!!

I saw red!! The anger was raging through me, but i knew i couldnt make a scene here infront of everyone.

"Allie!" I called to her so she knew i was there and hadnt let her down! Her little face lit up and she flew into my arms.

"Im so sorry I'm late babe, you can blame Uncle Steve for driving like an old woman" i smiled at her before turning to look at Ms Harper.

"Ms Harper, id like to say its nice to see you again but i dont like to lie infront of my kids" i felt some semblance of pleasure from the worried look on the womans face.

"Allie why dont you go find us a seat, i'll be right there"

"Okay" she said happily running off towards the benches. Once she was far enough away i turned my attention to Ms Harper.

"I heard what you said to Allie you spiteful bitch! I get your not happy that Bucky isn't interested in you but guess what? You dont always get what you want!! And you cannot say that shit to a five year old!"

"I was only telling her the truth! Her moms dead! Why should she be here?"

"Shes got a mom you stupid fuck! Im her mom got it??! I already warned you about messing with my kid.... your lucky theres people here because god help me you would be on your fucking ass by now if they weren't!"

I turned to go find Allie but stopped to look back at Ms Harper "oh and you should probably start looking for a new job, I'm not letting this go and I'm sure my husband wont either when i tell him the vile shit coming out of your mouth"

"But i....." she started to say with wide eyes.

"Have a good afternoon Ms Harper" i called back in an over the top happy voice as i approached the benches and found Allie.

The picnic was lovely, we were sat with some of Allie's friends and their moms who Allie introduced as Josie and her mom Kylie, Emma and her mom Rachel and then Nell and her mom Nessa.

They were all lovely and very welcoming, the afternoon flew by and playdates were arranged, I'm sure Bucky would love that!

2:45 came around and the picnic was over, i took Allie's hand and we made our way out front to wait for Bucky. To our surprise he was already outside waiting for us leaning against the side of his car, he greeted us both with a smile.

"Hey girls"

"Hey yourself" i smiled at him as he scooped Allie up into one arm and draped the other over my shoulders placing a kiss on the side of my head.

"How'd it go?"

"It was so much fun daddy! Y/N met my friends!" Allie told him sounding so happy at how the afternoon went.

"She did?" He asked matching her tone and smiling. I spotted Ms Harper hovering over near the gates looking towards us and frowned.

"You okay doll? You look like your ready to murder someone" Bucky asked as his arm slipped down to wrap around my waist.

"Maybe because i am! I need to talk to you about Ms Harper....."

"Okay" he nodded then turned to strap Allie into her booster seat while we waited for Brooke to come out. Once he was done he closed the car door and turned me to face him so i had my back to Ms Harper the super bitch!! He held one hand against the side of my face making me look up at him, it would look pretty intimate to anyone watching and that was the whole point.... right?

"What happened?" He asked calmly and i couldn't help but wonder how long he'd keep that calm look about him once i told him what she had said.

"I was a little late getting here because Steve was driving like an old woman..." i started to say, i wasn't about to tell Bucky i was late because Steve was questioning mine and Bucky's relationship!

"When i got here Ms Harper was standing away from the picnic with Allie.... as i got closer i heard her telling Allie she shouldn't be at the picnic because she doesn't have a mom!" I closed my eyes trying to fight back the anger once again "how could someone say that Buck!"

I could feel the anger vibrating through Bucky but he just pulled me into his arms, my arms wrapping around his waist.

"I think we should report her Bucky, she cant get away with saying these things to Allie!"

"I agree doll, this has to stop. I'll make an appointment to see the principal”

"I can come with you if you want? Tell him what I've heard her say..."

"Yeah okay, id like that"

"I should tell you now, i threatened to knock her on her ass.... i kinda lost my shit with her" i admitted and Bucky just chuckled dropping his head to my shoulder.

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[aph-imagines]

Hello! If you’re okay to, may I please have a scenario where human APH England brings home his s/o for the first time for dinner to meet his family? (Including Scotland, Ireland and Wales if you can) thank you!!

I love writing about the UK bro’s so I really enjoyed writing this! To avoid there being too many people in the scenario, I’ve just included Scotland, Wales and Ireland since you requested them (Sealand and N. Ireland are the two other brothers mentioned). Since you haven’t requested any names, I’ve used Allistor, Dyllan and Patrick!

(There’s British/Irish slang slotted in here. I haven’t left a ‘definitions’ section, but most of them are either explained either in definition or by subsequent reaction. Also, some swearing).

-

“So, I’m meeting three of your brothers tonight, right?”

Arthur grunted in affirmation, “As you know, I’ve got five brothers but you’ll just be meeting the three of them tonight. Not that my parents don’t want to meet you, of course, they’ve said they’d love to meet you soon. As the twats were so keen to meet you, mum and dad said they’d arrange another date to get to know you, and have taken my two youngest brothers out with them for the evening.”

“Twats?”

Arthur’s hands momentarily went white against the car wheel, “You’ll see what I mean, S/O.”

“You don’t mention them too much apart from insults, what’re they like?”

After a sigh, he answered, “Allistor is quite gruff regardless of how much he’s had to drink, although I imagine he’ll be more tempered with you. We spat a lot. Patrick’s a little chirpier although just as much of a taunt. Dyllan is the quietest of the bunch and quite well-tempered in comparison to the rest of us stubborn gits. Unless his name gets pronounced wrong, that is.”

“How’s it pronounced?” S/O questioned, “I didn’t take much notice when you said it the first time.”

“With the Welsh double l sound. He’ll probably let you off the hook until he’s taught you, but I can never get my mouth around it. He’s the one that hates me the least out of the three of them, but he still holds a grudge over that.”

Arthur turned his indicators on, turning into a housing estate, “Just a couple more minutes. Luckily there’s no rugby on tonight, so they shouldn’t be so rowdy.”

S/O didn’t know how relieved to be. Arthur wasn’t exactly selling his brothers. 

Once they pulled into a driveway, the front door of the fairly modest house opened, a brunet figure standing in the doorway. Upon Arthur and S/O opening their car doors, he spoke, “Evening, both.”

“S/O, Dyllan. Dyllan, S/O.”

Dyllan huffed softly, “It’s Dyllan, ignore him.”

Dyllan stuck his hand out for S/O to shake, who attempted to pronounce his name upon taking it, “Not quite, but at least you’re having a go, unlike someone.”

Arthur huffed, much louder than his brother, “I’m guessing that if you’re starting on me, then those two are going to be much worse.”

“They wanna see who you’ve brought home. Personally, I think they’re tidy, but you know how ruthless they can be.”

“Tidy?” Arthur had said casual clothing was fine, so S/O hadn’t exactly dressed up.

“S’another way of saying nice, don’t worry yourself about it,” Dyllan smiled, “Al, Pat, get here!”

A few moments later, two redheads appear at the top of the stairway, “Arthur, ya dobber, who you brought home with ya?”

“Hello to you too, Allistor,” Arthur grumbled, “This is S/O.”

“Well, you scrub up nicely unlike the minger you’re dating. If it’s the eyebrows you fancy, then us three are much better candidates.”

“If you’ve got nothing nice to say, say nothing at all Allistor. Piss off.”

“Alrigh’, I'm doing dinner and need to go check on the meat anyway. Feel free to come chat in a bit, S/O, just don’t bring grumpy knickers with you.”

As soon as Allistor left for the kitchen, Patrick introduced himself, “Stop pouting Art, he’s just codding ya. Why act like the perfect fam now only for S/O to be surprised about the fact we’re a bunch of knobs. Anyway, S/O, I’m looking forward to getting to know ya!”

Patrick and Dyllan joined Allistor in the kitchen-diner, leaving Arthur and S/O in the hallway.

“Hey, they seem fun to me,” S/O reassured their pouting boyfriend, “I love how quirky humour from the British Isles is, so I want to hear you all banter.”

“Banter?” Arthur remarked, perking up a little, “I don’t think I’ve ever said that word in front of you.”

“I’ve watched some British TV here and there. It’s pretty good.”

Arthur recomposed himself, “I’m going to go upstairs for a few minutes as I need to use the bathroom, but feel free to join them.”

S/O headed into the kitchen-diner. Patrick was lounging back on a dining room chair with a drink next to him while the two other brothers were at the kitchen counter, cutting vegetables.

“What’re you making?” S/O asked.

“It’s Saturday night, but we’re making Sunday roast,” Dyllan explained, “I hope you’re hungry, Allistor has cut up way too many vegetables.”

“We’re all growing lads, and I don’t know what S/O’s appetite is like.”

“We’re all in our twenties,” Dyllan countered, “Anyway, feel free to join Patrick at the table, S/O, we’ve got this all sorted.”

As S/O sat, Patrick slid his glass over to them, “Wanna sip?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water is fine.”

“You can drink alcohol if you want, but if that’s the case- Oi, Al! Get S/O a glass of water!”

Arthur appeared a few minutes later, with Allistor greeting him with a, “Art, what’s the similarity between you and this?”

“You make this stupid joke every time we have a roast. Stop calling me a Yorkshire pudding, you twerp.”

“Ahm only joking with ya, Art,” Allistor responded, “Everything’s almost done, set the table up.”

The meal itself was far from the best, and was rather bland. But the company was far from boring. With the brother’s sardonic quips and creative but sarcastic jibes, there wasn’t any silence other than a few brief moments. And, oh boy, when Dyllan suggested they get Cluedo or Monopoly out, their ‘tough love’ went even further down the drain.

But S/O wasn’t the target of any of the insults unless they walked into it and the brothers were pleasant with them. That didn’t mean they were left out.

“Alright,” Arthur said after a while, “I should get S/O home, it’s getting late.”

“What a coincidence that you’re saying that as soon as you’ve had to mortgage some of your properties.” Dyllan smirked.

“He’s a sore loser. As sore as his backside’ll be if he doesn’t admit he’d be in last place anyway.”

“Stuff off, the pair of you.”

Patrick watched his brothers before contributing, “He’s still sulking that he went first because we use the ‘youngest player rolls first’ rule.”

Arthur flicked a hotel at him, “’Stuff off’ extends to you too, you know.”

“Oi, that was ma hotel!” Allistor yelled, “You’d better get S/O home now otherwise they’re gonna see us rugby tackle ya!”

That was enough for Arthur to shoot off and get his shoes on.

“We taunt the hell out of him because he’s so easy to wind up, but you’re a good’un in our books.” Allistor said, clearly referring to S/O although his eyes were still in the direction Arthur left.

“Thank you.” S/O was slightly confused, but in the few hours they’d known the brothers, they’d already figured out that this was what they were normally like.

“No problem!” Patrick said, “You’re more than welcome back!”

Dyllan nodded, “And you make our brother happy. Even though we pretend we hate him, he’s alright. But he seems more pleasant since you two met, especially since you started dating. Thank you.”

“C’mon Dyllan, we can drink to that.”

Dyllan passed S/O a glass, “Cheers.”

The four clinked glasses, although the mood was broken by Patrick shouting, “For fecks’ sake, Allistor, you’ve spilt whisky on me!”

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 8 - last christmas - wham

the magic of christmas time - royai advent calender

24 days - 24 oneshots | with angst, fluff, and everything in between | both canon and au

a collection of christmas themed oneshots to celebrate royai | chapter prompts based on my favourite christmas songs

read on ao3

a crowded room, friends with tired eyes

i'm hiding from you, and your soul of ice

“I can’t fucking believe she’s here,” Roy muttered as he knocked back his whisky.

“Roy, I’m sorry, man. I had no idea she was coming.” Maes looked worriedly between Roy and the door, where Roy’s ex was being greeted cordially by Gracia. Also known as, Gracia trying to keep her busy and keep her away from Roy.

“No, it’s fine,” Roy stated bitterly, but it wasn’t directed at his friend. “She knew about this and probably came just to piss me off.” Roy took another drink. “Fuck.”

“Look, if you want to go, I won’t blame you –”

“Uncle Roy!” Maes’ daughter, Elicia screeched loudly. Roy cringed while he still faced away from the three-year-old.

“Shit,” Maes muttered out of his daughter’s earshot, because the reason for Roy’s misery probably heard Elicia’s very loud call for his name and he really didn’t want to deal with her. The breakup was still raw, and he’d come here to try and get over her, to forget. “Elicia.” Roy turned and watched as Maes intercepted smoothly, grasping his daughter underneath her arms and lifting her into his arms. “Inside voice, remember honey?”

“Oh, right,” she giggled, not bothered in the slightest. “Uncle Roy,” she grinned, her whole face lighting up. Roy watched it, feeling a pang in his chest. He loved his godchild, but he didn’t have the usual energy to interact with her today. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” she stressed, a frown appearing on her face. “Where have you been?”

“Uh, Uncle Roy has been away with work, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah. Anyway, can we go play?”

Maes glanced at the back of Roy’s head after he turned to finish the rest of his drink. “Uh –”

“Of course, princess,” Roy smiled, turning to face his adoptive niece with a wide smile. Elicia perked up and grinned, her little arms reaching out so she could be transferred from her father’s arms, to her uncle’s. “What would you like to play with first?”

“My cars!”

Roy smiled to himself, his expression softening. That was the gift he’d got her last year. “Of course, sweetie,” he replied, kissing her cheek. He glanced to his right and saw that his ex was nowhere to be seen. Letting out a relieved sigh, he took a deep breath and walked with Elicia to her bedroom.

Roy opened the door and froze when he saw someone already in the room. The woman was making Elicia’s bed, flattening out the sheet when she turned at the interruption. A surprised oh left her, obviously not expecting to see someone.

“Um, hello,” she greeted. “Hello, Elicia. I’ll get out your hair. Sorry.” Without another word, the woman left in a hurry and closed the door behind her.

“Who was that?” Roy asked, slightly confused. The Hughes’ were rich, but did they really hire a maid?

Elicia’s face lit up. “That’s my new nanny. She helps Mummy and Daddy look after me while they’re working.”

“Oh. Okay,” Roy shrugged. Obviously, they were rich enough to hire a nanny. That was unexpected.

They played together for about an hour and Roy lost himself to it as she dragged out all her toys from the box. He forgot that his ex was downstairs and the mere sight of her still made his chest hurt.

They’d been together for five years, then last Christmas he’d caught her cheating at a Christmas party. The reason she used was bullshit, trying and cover it up and worm her way out of it – underneath the mistletoe was not an excuse for making out with someone else when already in a committed, long-term relationship – but like a lovesick and hurt fool, Roy went back to her. He was a dumbass for making that decision. Things were tense, but they were working it out, until a month ago when she’d done it again and Roy had had enough. He ended it and found out she’d still been cheating with the same guy all along. Talk about kicking a man while he was down.

He'd been a fool. He knew that now. Roy had been desperate, holding onto a hope that was no longer there. It had died last year, and Roy had been too crushed that he’d turned a blind eye to it. After all, a five-year relationship was a hard thing to leave, just like that. He’d probably held on because he was too scared of life without her.

But he was better off now. He knew he was. The pain would go away and he’d be back in the game in no time.

“Elicia?” a voice called softly into the room. Roy turned mid grin, his eyes falling on the woman from before. Her blonde hair was tied back off her face, pinned up in a clip at the back of her head. Her fringe fell across to one side, reminding Roy of a bird’s wing. She looked slightly nervous as she poked her head in the room. Her eyes never met his, but he did notice the warm brown colour they held within them. Her knuckles were white on the edge of the door as she gripped it tightly.

“Yeah?” Elicia asked distractedly.

“Mum and Dad want to see you. It’s time to get something to eat.”

“Okay! Bye, bye, dolls.” Elicia bid them farewell and ran from the room, grinning up at her nanny before heading back to the party across the Hughes’ grand front hallway. Roy stood to thank the woman for letting him know, but she was already gone, the door left slightly ajar.

Roy re-entered the party and immediately spotted the reason for his discomfort. Solaris – his ex – was sitting at the table in the Hughes’ dining room, laughing and chatting with the guests, completely oblivious to the sour mood she’d put her hosts in. She looked up at an inopportune moment – when Roy was still staring at her – and offered him a small smile, a knowing look in her eyes. Before he’d have fallen over himself to get to her while she was wearing that smouldering look, but now it made him sick to his stomach. Just how many men had she aimed that look at while they were together?

No. Fuck her. Roy could do better. So much better. He turned away and ignored it, making his way over to the buffet table. He joined in behind Maes and picked up a plate, shovelling food onto it, but not completely aware of what he was picking up.

“You okay?” Maes asked, breaking Roy out of his reckless shovelling of food. He stared down at the mountain forming on his plate and paused, placing one hand on the table to steady himself.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. He was hurt. Angry, most of all, at her, but still hurt. He didn’t want her here. He knew Solaris had done it just to get to him, or to try and rekindle something between them, but Roy wasn’t desperate now. He wasn’t as stupid as he had been. He wouldn’t do that to himself.

“Take five, okay? Or however long it takes until you feel better. I’ll let Gracia know.”

“No,” Roy stated vehemently. “Just… Give me a few. Then I’ll be back.”

Maes offered him a comforting smile. “No problem, Roy.”

Taking his plate – although he didn’t know why, he’d lost his appetite – Roy left the room. His feet carried him down the hallway and into the kitchen. The room was massive, fitted with state of the art, industrial equipment that was both expensive but made both Maes’ and Gracia’s lives so much easier. Roy was always in awe of their home. He wasn’t sitting in a terrible financial position himself. He was well off, had a good job, and had a decent sized house. However, it was nothing compared to the Hughes’.

Entering the room, Roy pretty much threw his plate on the table.

A quiet, surprised, gasp sounded from somewhere in the room.

Jumping in fright himself, Roy walked around the table, rounding the corner of a protruding wall, and saw Elicia’s nanny sitting on the step in front of the door leading to their back garden. As far as Roy was aware, this door wasn’t the main exit to the house, but more a “servant’s entrance” – one the Hughes’ used to unload groceries into the house because it was quicker from their driveway.

But… Why was she sitting there?

“Hello, again,” he greeted, still recovering from his surprise. At least he’d managed to speak to her this time. He didn’t want the woman to think he was a pompous, arrogant asshole who ignored people.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, offering him a nod before going back to eating her sandwich.

“Sorry if I gave you a fright,” he apologised sheepishly.

“No, it’s fine, you didn’t.” She was a terrible liar, Roy noticed. He also noticed that she was actively avoiding his gaze, looking like she wanted him to promptly leave, and Roy could take a hint. He wouldn’t be the best company right now anyway.

“Okay. I’ll catch you later.”

He left, grabbing his plate to find a more private spot and froze in the hallway when he spotted Solaris walking towards him.

“Hey, Roy,” she smiled, but he noticed that manipulative look in her eye that had been present last Christmas. Roy said nothing. He couldn’t. Instead, he just felt his jaw clench tightly. Any harder and his teeth would shatter. “Merry Christmas,” she smiled.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.

She looked slightly taken aback, but Roy didn’t know what for. He made his feelings for her perfectly clear. “We were both invited.”

“No, I was invited. You were my plus one, but you had no right to come here tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re over,” he hissed. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“Maes and Gracia are my friends too,” she stated calmly, playing him, and Roy knew it. He was too furious to care. It was time to vent and if that involved screaming and yelling at this bitch, so she’d get the hint and fuck off, then so be it. He wouldn’t be fooled by her again.

“No, they’re not, especially not now. Not after what you did.”

Solaris sighed, as if talking to a child, and that angered Roy more. “Look, Roy –”

“No,” Roy snarled quietly. He was furious, but still didn’t want others to overhear. The door to the dining room was open, and he could see people walking by it, dangerously close to overhearing them both. “We’re over. That means you get the fuck out of my life. I don’t ever want to see you again, Solaris. Stop trying to play me and manipulate me like you did before because I’m having none of it.”

Breathing hard, Roy watched as her mouth fell open then she promptly shut it with a glare. Turning on her heel and flicking her hair over her shoulder, she stalked out towards the front door ahead of them. It slammed loudly and the murmur of conversation from the dining room died down because of the loud disruption. Maes poked his head out to search, then spotted Roy. He nodded once to his friend, then turned and entered the kitchen again.

“Fuck,” he cursed loudly, kicking the heavy wood table in the middle of the room. He ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. A noise from his left caught his attention through the haze of anger. It was the sound of the door opening and closing hurriedly. From the window leading to outside, he could see the woman – Roy realised he never caught her name – hugging her sides in the freezing temperatures as she hurried past the window wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a thin cardigan. His face fell. The thick snow on the ground kicked up as she moved, slipping once or twice in the uneven surface.

Fuck. He’d forgot she was there. He hadn’t wanted anyone to overhear that conversation, yet he’d just spoke to her two minutes ago then promptly forgotten all about the nanny. Roy groaned. That made things a hundred times more awkward for her.

Approaching the door, she’d left out of, he considered following and calling her back to apologise. Hand on the handle, he paused. The half-eaten sandwich on the plate was resting on the stone step. Roy shivered, noticing just how cold this area was. Hesitating, he decided to continue with his testing. Sitting on the step, he shivered again when the chill from the door on his back and the stone beneath his ass spread through his body. This couldn’t have been comfortable for her, so why was the woman sitting here?

The mystery plagued his mind for a moment, distracting him from Solaris, which was always welcome. He was slightly worried about Elicia’s nanny. She’d been sitting here all alone in the freezing cold. Maes and Gracia weren’t the kind of people to send “the help” away somewhere quiet to eat their dinner, out of sight and out of mind. So why had she sat in the cold? And then he’d forced her out into the cold. Shit. He needed to apologise to her, and possibly offer her a coffee or a tea to warm her up.

Roy stood and left the kitchen, his plate of food forgotten, and he headed for the only entrance the woman would probably head for – the front door.

[angelinyourworld]

Nice and Innocent Pt.1

- Rating: PG-13 -

- 4K words -

- A blind date with Kyungsoo -

The idea was a bit ridiculous, really, going on a double date with someone I have never met. But when your friend begs you to meet this incredible guy she’s dating because she insists he’s “the one”, it’s hard to say no. It’s only until the night before does she casually mention to you that it’s also a date with this man’s lonesome friend.

“So of all the people in your life that are single, I need the most help?” I deadpan, rifling through my closet for something more inspiring for this sudden change in occasion. I hope she can hear the distaste in my voice.

“No! That’s not it at all! I really want you to meet Junmyeon. And I just think out of all the people in my life, you’ll get along with Kyungsoo the most. This was just a little add on. That’s all.” Eunji tries to placate me, but I’m still a bit put off by the whole thing. I’m not old by any means, but apparently old enough to have dates set up for me now.

“You’re very lucky that I want to meet this perfect man of yours and also happen to want to try out the restaurant we’re going to; which by the way, how on earth did we get a reservation for? It’s impossible to get into that place even if you book months in advance.” I ask incredulously.

Eunji hums thoughtfully for a few moments, “I’m not sure actually. Junmyeon said Kyungsoo set it up though.”

“Junmyeon is paying right?” I ask, half joking. Eunji giggles and affirms my inquiry. “What should I wear? I don’t think I have anything.”

“Show me your closet again.” I turn my phone to show her and we end up spending up far too much time going through my closet together.

--

The next evening comes quickly and I’m oddly nervous. Junmyeon was kind enough to pick me up for the evening--point to him for that. He drives a fancy car and opens the door for me as Eunji beams from the front seat.

We exchange pleasantries for the first few minutes of the ride. “Are you excited?” Eunji asks, eyebrows extra wiggly.

“Yeah, to eat.” Junmyeon and I make eye contact in the rearview mirror and he snickers.

“You’re so funny.” Eunji says flatly.

“They’ll get along just fine. Don’t worry.” Junmyeon reaches over the console to hold Eunji’s hand and it warms my cold, dead heart.

We arrive at the restaurant and I am immediately taken with the space itself. It’s beautiful to say the least. It’s styled with contemporary Japanese aesthetics--muted, natural colors with a good flow from the entrance to the interior. There is minimal decor with thoughtful sculptures and bright flowers. The maitre d' readily greets us, specifically Junmyeon, when we step through the door.

We’re ushered into the dining room and led towards the counter where the head chef is engaged in a conversation with a bespectacled man dressed in a blue sweater. His expression looks warm and eager as they talk. It’s endearing.

“Kyungsoo!” Junmyeon is incredibly enthusiastic, immediately pulling Kyungsoo into a hug when he stands. “This is my girlfriend Eunji, and this is her friend I’ve been telling you about.” Kyungsoo shakes Eunji’s hand and then reaches for mine as well. His grip is strong and his hands are a little dry, but not the worst impression ever. He looks quite handsome in his royal blue sweater and cropped hair. His voice is deep and soothing--it sends a shiver down my spine that I struggle to tamp down.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo says. He sounds calm, but the tips of his ears are tinged pink betraying his cool demeanor. At least I’m not alone in feeling apprehensive about the date.

I’m sandwiched between Eunji and Kyungsoo at the corner of the counter, in arguably the best seat in the house with the head chef just an arm’s length away. “Chef Fujimoto is a good friend of mine and was kind enough to do this favor for us today.”

It isn’t until Kyungsoo says this that I realize the restaurant was empty save for us. Who on earth is this guy that he’s friends with a top chef?!

“I’m always happy to do what I can for you, my friend.” Chef Fujimoto greets us before excusing himself to work on the courses for this evening.

More pleasantries are exchanged while we are served tea and the first round of sake that is to be paired with the appetizers. Every time Kyungsoo speaks, it get taken aback by how wonderful his voice sounds. I’m usually one for good conversation during a meal, but watching the meal come to life before my eyes, my attention is certainly on chef and not on my companions. Chef and his sous chef flitter about the kitchen so fluidly it’s almost as if they’re dancing.

The zensai course finally appears before us in a flourish of colors and my eyes are already feasting.

“Starting with the right side we have a pumpkin rose filled with salmon ikura and on the left is a salad of maitake, toasted pumpkin seeds, and fig.”

The pumpkin rose is so gorgeous, delicate, and looks downright delicious. “Oh chef...this is just stunning.” I murmur. Utter adoration must be written all over my face because chef’s expression is just as delighted.

“Itadakimasu.” Kyungsoo smiles. The rest of us utter our thanks and sample the art in front of us. Just a bite of the first course has convinced me this restaurant deserves all the accolades it has received.

Eunji and Junmyeon continue to converse as they eat, but Kyungsoo and I are silent. I glance over at him and he looks thoughtful as he chews. “What are your thoughts, Kyungsoo?” It takes a moment for my question to register to him, he blinks with eyes wide and expression blank.

Kyungsoo looks down at the plate, scanning its details. “Autumn is my favorite season. This captures the season perfectly.”

His answer brings a smile to my face, “That’s my favorite season too.” Kyungsoo gives me a gentle smile and pushes his glasses up with a finger. It’s easy to tell already that Kyungsoo is passionate person hidden behind demure smiles, thick black frames, and concise words.

“To cleanse the palate we have a suimono of braised daikon and ankimo.” Chef Fujimoto steps back in front of us to inquire about our thoughts once we’ve had a taste.

“I love the clarity of the flavors. I’m not sure what word to use to describe it, but what comes to mind is ‘pure’?” Kyungsoo hums at my commentary and takes another bite.

“I think you’re quite right. They’re simple flavors of the cuisine, but there is a satisfying potency to it that is very filling.” I could watch Kyungsoo speak all day. There is something so pleasant about the way he speaks and the way his lips move. I am so deeply satisfied with the meal and the company; I’m actually kind of glad I agreed to come.

After we our plates are cleared and the next sake pairing is served, the next course is presented. This course is usually favorite and I’m particularly excited for this one. “For the hassun we have an A5 wagyu beef tataki, persimmon with tofu skin, grilled hamachi. The tempura is lotus root and prawn with a tentsuyu dipping sauce.” As we all eat, a chorus of crunches into the tempura is extra satisfying. It’s definitely half the reason this course is my favorite; fried food is my vice.

We cheers with our sake that warms up my whole body and changes the flavor of the wagyu beef. It’s so much fun to experiment with transformation of flavors throughout these courses. During a lull in the dinner conversation, Kyungsoo’s cell phone rings and he steps away to answer it with deep apologies on his lips.

“You two seem to be getting along famously,” Junmyeon notes. He’s hiding a satisfied smile behind his sip of sake.

I shrug, “I think we just both really enjoy food and this experience is really a one of a kind. I do have to thank you for inviting me. I’m really enjoying myself.”

“What do you think about him?” Eunji asks, eyes sparkling.

“We’re only halfway through dinner. I don’t know all that much about him to settle on anything significant. But he’s handsome. Very handsome.” I try to hide my smile as I think about his bright eyes and lovely smile. The couple beside me are satisfied with that and go back to their food.

Moments later, Kyungsoo slides back into his seat again apologizing for disturbing the meal. “No worries, it seemed important.”

“It was, otherwise I really hate using my phone during meals. It’s not very good company, especially today.”

“Kyungsoo hates his phone regardless. He’s silent in all of our group chats unless he’s addressed directly. Even then he only replies about 50% of the time.” Junmyeon leans over to chastise him, but there’s still a charming smile on his face.

“Hey, I would say it’s about 80% of the time.” Kyungsoo replies indignantly, but he doesn’t actually seem particularly bothered about the jibe.

“I’ve been telling you all this time--”

“It’s bad for networking.” Kyungsoo finishes the sentence with him along with a sigh. Poor Kyungsoo finally gets a break when chef comes back with the next course.

“I’m very excited about the tsukuri tonight. I have the freshest amaebi from Kochi, a gorgeous o-toro, octopus, salmon belly, and the hamachi from the previous course with a nori crust. The hamachi that came in today was too beautiful to use just once.” he explains with a bright smile. He looks so satisfied with his work, it must be a true masterpiece.

Sushi is one of my favorite foods. I could eat it every single day if I could. I particularly love the nori crust that makes the dish extra special--it’s not something I’ve had before! This meal has truly been a delight and I’m so pleased to cross this off my bucket list. Chef lingers around to gather our thoughts and commentary, then deep dives into a conversation with Kyungsoo in Japanese. Not going to lie, my heart fluttered when I realized the depth of their conversation.

I tried to listen in a bit and it sounded like they were discussing vegetable suppliers and options for the next menu.

Eunji leans over to me, “You’re staring.” My eyes are forced to break away and I immediately feel a flush take over my body. How embarrassing to be caught! Maybe it’s the sake, maybe it’s the lovely conversation, maybe it’s the unforgettable bucket list experience--no matter what it is I can’t deny that I’m incredibly attracted to Kyungsoo. How annoying. I didn’t want Eunji to be right.

Chef then steps away again to prepare for the next course. “You didn’t tell me you’re also fluent in Japanese.” I try my best to not sound exasperated. Kyungsoo’s ears flush red, but the rest of his face remains calm.

“No, you’re mistaken. I’m not fluent at all.” he says as he pushes up his glasses with a finger.

“You’re joking right? You literally just had an entire conversation with Chef Fujimoto in Japanese. I barely kept up with half the conversation.”

“So you speak Japanese too?” his eyes search my face and it’s my turn to blush from the attention.

“Certainly not as well as you. I understand a bit. I did a study abroad program back in college.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes light up, “Where?”

“In Tokyo. My college has a sister college there so it worked out that way. I spent a summer and fall semester with a lovely host family. It’s been a while since I’ve visited them. I don’t go back to Japan as often as I’d like in general, though.” Which is true, I only visit twice a year, three if I push it.

“I visit often, but it’s mostly for work. My responsibilities keep me from being more adventurous.” he sounds a bit wistful, the wanderlust clear in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to have time for both. It’s a shame to not have some time to yourself in such a lovely place.” This stirs conversation between all of us regaling our various experiences in Japan.

Before we know it, chef comes back with a new sake and course pairing. “For the takiawase, I’ll let you decide what I’ve put in.”

We take turns providing our commentary. “Like everyone else, I see daikon, cabbage, and shiitake. I think there’s also fig? The monkfish is particularly tasty, too.”

It’s really fun to talk about the ingredients and I become brave enough to ask Chef about his technique and methods. When it got too complicated and Chef reverted to Japanese, Kyungsoo translated for us. I understand a bit and made the experience all the more enjoyable to understand Chef and his craft on a more intimate level. I was able to help translate as well, providing a more flowery approach to my word choice than a very clear and concise Kyungsoo. We played off each other, complementary almost.

This course lasts for a long time with conversation continuing even though we’ve cleared our plates. Chef steps away when his sous chef comes to get him to finish off the last course--dessert.

“And lastly, the mizumono of apple cake with almond ice cream.” It’s simple, but it’s elegantly laid out. It’s even one of my favorite flavor combinations--there’s always something warm and inviting about it. The cake itself is light in texture and the apple flavor is clear and crisp. There are bits of apple in the cake, but doesn’t weigh heavy in the cake at all. The nutmeg and cinnamon spices along with almond ice cream compliment it well, make it feel homey.

We have to eat fast so the ice cream doesn’t melt into a runny mess so I’m not able to savor this last dish as much as I wanted. With one last wistful last bite, the meal comes to an end. My stomach is full and warm, and the burning in my heart isn’t just from the sake we’ve had.

“You look so forlorn,” Eunji laughs.

“It’s because I am,” I pout “This was such an amazing meal and being able to talk to Chef Fujimoto and sharing this with you guys really made this night so special. I could only dream of coming here before. I’m really happy.” I’m suddenly fired up, more passionate than I intended.

“You’ve always only looked at food so ardently. You’ve had hearts in your eyes all night.” Eunji says. There’s also a mischievous glint in her eye and I’m sure she means something else other than just our meal.

“Looks like we’ll have to come back often, don’t we Kyungsoo?” Junmyeon says, smile as bright as ever.

“I think you have overestimated the favors that result from my business relationships.” Kyungsoo says before finishing the last of his sake. I couldn’t help but notice the slight upturn of his lips against the rim of the ceramic cup. Cheeky.

“I don’t think it’s an overestimation. Perhaps consider it as a...as a seasonal favorite.” Kyungsoo humors Junmyeon with a slight chuckle.

“It’s unlikely, considering there are other favors that can be called upon at any time.” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows express something that I cannot quite put a finger to, but it feels like a secret I want to uncover. And he looks incredibly sexy with that slight smirk on his plush lips.

“Well aren’t you wicked,” Junmyeon snorts, but Kyungsoo doesn’t refute it.

--

After our meal, we take a quick photo with Chef Fujimoto and I almost have half a mind to ask him for an autograph but I have some sense of self respect and keep the fangirling to myself. I am quite unready to end the night, but I’m happy we decide to go to a nearby cafe as all of us are a bit buzzed from the sake and driving wouldn’t be a good idea.

We’re seated as couples and I suddenly feel very self conscious about anything I do even if we’re just talking over lattes and smoothies. The interior looks very nice and I enjoy the aesthetic so I try to take some photos as discreetly as possible to not disturb the conversation.

“Am I in the way?” Kyungsoo asks. It takes a moment for the question to register before I pull back, realizing I’m leaning in a bit close.

“Oh no you’re fine! I’m sorry I wasn’t really paying attention…” I’m a little embarrassed to be caught. I move to put away my phone, but Kyungsoo stops me.

“Show them to me?” I nod dumbly and pull up my gallery to show him what I took photos of. It was nothing special, just the wall decor, the room layout, and such. “They look like concept photos. They’re nice.” he compliments, leisurely scrolling through the images.

“I work in marketing so I guess I look out for these sorts of things.” I shrug.

“I just realized I never asked what your profession is,” Kyungsoo’s eyes grow a little wide and he looks very cute, especially with the glasses.

I wave him off, “It’s okay, it didn’t really come up during dinner. Food seems more like a topic of your job anyway.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to not show interest in you. It’s quite the opposite.” the room suddenly goes silent and I can’t hear anything at all except for the intense thumping of my heart. It’s a moment right out of the movies or dramas. Kyungsoo’s eyes are earnest and full of conviction and that’s how I know what he says is honest. His directness continues to catch me off guard, but I like it. I like it a lot.

Seconds pass before we’re awakened by the front door bells chiming and the baristas greeting the new customers. Kyungsoo clears his throat and hands my phone back which I quickly tuck away.

I try not to look at the other couple in front of us who are looking at us with curious gazes. Suddenly my smoothie is much more fascinating than anything else in this cafe.

Junmyeon finally breaks the silence, “Let’s take a picture, Eunji.” the two of them take the time taking selcas together and it makes the air less awkward.

“You two look really good. I can take photos for you. It’ll show off your outfits better.” I offer.

“You have great sense,” Junmyeon laughs and easily hands his phone over to me.

I shrug. “It’d be a waste since you two coordinated so well today.” which is true considering their outfits match well together; whether it was on purpose or not I’m not sure, but I can appreciate how good they look together. I hope they last a long time.

I lean back in my seat after handing the phone back to them. They take their time perusing the photos and there’s a lull in the conversation.

“Did you always want to be in marketing?” Kyungsoo asks. He’s leaning back casually, but he fidgets with the hem of his sleeve.

“No, not always. I wasn’t good at studying, but I liked the arts. I just wasn’t good at that either. I kind of fell into it. Somehow discovered I’m decent at creating concepts.” I’m the first to admit that I’m not exceptional at anything. I’m just glad that I found something I could do relatively well that I could make a living. “What about you? Were you always such an entrepreneur?”

Kyungsoo laughs and it makes my chest feel full. “I was awful at school and to be honest I never cared for academics. I always liked being in the kitchen with my mother and grandmother. I’m not a chef like they are, but helping people grow their restaurant dreams has been a dream in itself.”

The four of us fall into conversation after that about anything and everything. We stick around long after we’ve finished our drinks and essentially have to be kicked out as the cafe was closing. It was really lovely getting to know Junmyeon who is so charming and passionate, and kind to a fault. I can tell how much he likes Eunji by the way he makes a fool out of himself to keep her smiling.

And then there’s Kyungsoo who makes me feel like a high schooler falling in love for the first time. It’s warm and sweet, it makes my insides burn. His ambition is impressive and I love the way he seems to move forward in his goals with intention and wholeheartedness. He sincerely loves what he does and doesn’t have any complaints. I really like his expressive eyes and pretty heart-shaped smile. His impeccable Japanese skills and love for the culture matches my own. I don’t know if it’s possible to fall in love with a person in the course of a night, but I’d certainly like to see him again.

We amble back for the cars and the night finally comes to an end.

“May I drive you home?” Kyungsoo asks as the valet pulls up with his car.

Or not.

“Sure.” I have to tamp down on the excitement that bubbles in my chest. Eunji leers at me and I roll my eyes. “Thank you for dinner, Junmyeon. It was really nice to finally meet you. Eunji is a little crazy, but if you need backup I got you.” I shake hands with Junmyeon who laughs.

“Wow, that’s rude. See if I invite you anywhere else next time.” Eunji huffs. “Conspiring against me already.”

“It’s not conspiring if it’s true. Though if he’s stuck around this long already I think he knows what he’s getting into.”

“I do. I definitely do.” Junmyeon then excuses himself to give Kyungsoo a hug.

“He’s nice. You should keep him.” I say and Eunji stops pouting, smiling wide instead.

“I think I can say the same about you.”

“It’s way too early for that, but you did good I must say.” I acquiesce. Junmyeon’s car gets pulled around and they head to the car. Kyungsoo then takes a moment to open the door for me as well.

--

The drive is generally quiet save for the radio that is playing quietly and the GPS giving directions. Sometimes Kyungsoo hums along, taps the wheel with his fingers. It’s cute.

I peer over at his face every so often, trying not to get caught staring. He really does have such a handsome face and even more handsome when he’s driving. He finally catches me in the act and I quickly look out the window to hide the blush that instantly colors my face.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks, evidently amused by the teasing tone.

“No, I don’t think so.” I reply as nonchalant as possible, unwilling to be caught.

“There must be something since you keep looking my way,” he is so mean, messing with me like this.

“I just like looking at the city at night. The feeling is different.” I am a weak human being and I’m paying the price for it.

It’s quiet until we stop at a light. In my peripheral I can see him looking at me this time and he’s got the slightest hint of a smirk and it gets under my skin. “What?” I turn to face him.

“It’s okay, you can keep looking. I like it when you look at me.” there goes his heart-shaped smile again. Double-kill.

“Now I can’t look at you anymore!” I can’t take it! I cover my face with my hands and start uncontrollably giggling. Kyungsoo laughs with me too and I’m a bit less embarrassed.

We finally calm down and arrive at my apartment building shortly after. There’s a moment of hesitation before I unbuckle my seatbelt, but all good things come to an end. “Thank you for driving me home and for dinner. I had a really good time.”

“The pleasure was mine, but I’m glad you had a good time. I’ve never really done this blind date thing before.” Kyungsoo smiles, though he betrays his nervousness as he brushes a hand over the shorter sides of his hair. My eyes can’t help but linger on his perfect lips.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I tease. “But honestly, I wasn’t super into the idea of another blind date at first. I haven’t met very nice men from them. I’m glad I was wrong...for once.”

Kyungsoo smirks, eyebrow cocked. “What makes you think I’m a nice guy?” It should be illegal for him to do that. I’m at a loss of what to say. The air is electric and there’s something hanging in the air left unsaid. Just a short reach over the center console and--

“It’s okay if you’re not nice. Just this once.” I don’t know who crosses the precipice first, but the moment breaks and suddenly our lips glide over each other’s. God, his lips are just as perfect as I’d imagined. They’re pillowy soft and warm, not chapped in the slightest. He holds my face close with his thumb resting just below my ear. It’s just the tiniest bit possessive and I revel in the feeling of being wanted. Desired.

When we finally come up for real air, the windows are all fogged up just like how my head feels. “Told you I wasn’t nice.” he huffs, a little out of breath. His lips are shiny and red and I revel in the fact that I caused that.

“Well then maybe it’s a good thing I’m not a nice girl either.” it’s my turn to be a little bold. Sometimes you have to be ambitious with what you want.

“What makes you say that?” he asks with a brow quirked.

“Would a nice girl ask you to come up for a drink this late at night?” I throw a smirk his way and make my exit from the car.

I claim victory when I hear him open the door after me.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 21

Summary: Prince N’Jobu meets King T’Chaka’s future new wife first...and his 9-year-old son Erik meets a bit of his mother Califia’s past back in Oakland...

"You make me feel like a natural man, yeah (A natural woman)

You don't even gotta waste time

It's just natural, romantic, yeah

And we don't gotta take it slowly

You could break my body, baby

You're all that I need, yeah

Perfect for me, yeah (perfect for me, yeah)

You're gonna make me feel like I never felt

And fall like I never fell

Care like we never cared

And love like we never will…"

Desire B & Marnino Toussaint – "Never Will"

Umama sat and watched N'Jobu as he ate a full breakfast. The sunroom was filled with fresh flowers from the royal garden and the overwhelming spread of gourmet foods before him actually made him miss the simple breakfasts with his woman and son back home.

Home.

His real home. Califia and Erik. They were his center.

"You are very quiet this morning," Baba said, staring at N'Jobu.

"He just arrived in the middle of the night. Jet lag, my son?" Umama said as she patted his hand.

N'Jobu felt the curious eyes of T'Challa and W'Kabi on him as the boys helped themselves to seconds and thirds of sliced fruit and sweet breads. T'Chaka was equally quiet, but N'Jobu sensed that he was waiting to speak more openly once they were alone.

"I am tired, but I will be fine," N'Jobu said picking up wild honey plum slices to add to the pieces of pineapple already on his plate.

Umama glanced over at T'Chaka.

"We will be attending the Ti'Azan Gallery opening tonight," Umama said. Her tone alone let N'Jobu know something was up.

"I am looking forward to seeing the new artwork coming out of Djata," Baba said.

N'Jobu watched his parents tiptoe up to their real reason for bringing up the gallery opening. They were so obvious that N'Jobu quickly popped a piece of honey plum in his mouth to keep from laughing at them.

T'Chaka sliced into his grilled pork breakfast medallions on his full plate.

"I am too. I hear that Matsimela's daughter will be accompanying him tonight," Umama said.

T'Chaka put down his utensils and stared at his parents with a slight smirk on his mouth.

"Stop it, you two," T'Chaka said.

T'Challa giggled and N'Jobu let a wide smile crease his lips.

"I hear that she is no longer training Dora Milaje recruits—"

"Umama, please. Enough. I know what you are trying to do. I will go to this gallery opening, and I will meet this woman. Is everyone satisfied now?" T'Chaka said.

"Ramonda, her name is Ramonda," Umama said.

"Is she nice?" T'Challa asked.

"Very nice, and she loves children—" Umama said.

"Umama—" T'Chaka said, his face looking defeated.

"I too look forward to meeting Matsimela's daughter," N'Jobu said, trying to rub it in.

"Perhaps you should be looking for a wife of your own, Brother," T'Chaka said. N'Jobu couldn't tell if his brother was being serious or not.

"My work would make that difficult—"

"I am thinking of changing some things. Boys, it looks like you are both done eating. Please excuse yourselves so we can speak privately," T'Chaka said.

Disappointment on their faces, the boys said their goodbyes and left the sunroom. T'Chaka waited a few minutes and then looked N'Jobu in the eye.

"What changes?" N'Jobu said doing his best to make his voice calm and nonchalant.

"Moving some war dogs around, bringing some back home permanently."

Acid churned in N'Jobu's stomach. He wanted to drink the water next to his plate, but he was afraid that his hand would shake if he did so.

"Why?" N'Jobu asked.

"New eyes, new patterns of intel gathering…besides, Umama misses you and I need you to fulfill your true role as my Ambassador. Therefore, it is time for you to return home, take your place as our representative in the world, and get married."

"Yes, I agree. It is your duty now son to be with us again," Umama said.

"I strongly disagree with that plan," N'Jobu said.

Silence.

He had to think of something to say to deflect and convince them all otherwise. He was not expecting this. And Bast help him, surely his brother wasn't planning on him staying there now. Califia and Erik's face flashed in his mind. He felt his forehead crease and his jaw tighten. He told his family not to worry. Told them he would return to them. If they kept him there, if his brother insisted that he stay, he would have to escape from the country, go AWOL, maybe even move Erik and Califia out of Oakland—

"Hopefully you have a reasonable timetable for switching out war dogs. I feel that any sudden changes would cause suspicion—"

"I have already begun the process."

"My intel has been very fruitful and I am embedded in that community fully. If I am removed—"

"All will be handled with a smooth transition. Your Intel has been fruitful and very important. But I need you here with me. Our people love you and I believe your presence here at home can help me turn the tide of dissent."

"There was a vid special about T'Challa turning twelve and they played the old recording of you singing to Bathwandwa when she was carrying him. The social chatter about you lit up the public for weeks, N'Jobu. Our people want to see you more, and your positive popularity crosses all political quadrants. You being here and standing by your brother's side could help all of our people," Baba said.

"This is true," T'Chaka said.

His people.

N'Jobu tried not to show any consternation in his being, but he no longer felt connected to Wakandan people anymore. His people were out there in the world.

"As it stands, Baby Brother, Ambassador Obi tells me he shall retire at the end of this next term and he is willing to start a transition team for you within the next two years. So, continue to do your work well for me, and tonight, let us see what wives Umama has picked out for us this time."

Umama laughed, but when she saw N'Jobu's face, she touched his hand again.

"I should…I should go get some rest. I feel a bit drained, and I need to be ready for tonight," N'Jobu said standing up suddenly and gripping the dining table with his hand to hold his balance.

Two years.

He had two fucking years left to do what he needed to do.

###

"Take your time, JaJa…there you go…there you go…."

Califia pressed the gas pedal of her car gently so that her vehicle moved slowly. Erik sat on her lap turning the steering wheel. They were in their own townhouse complex parking structure. There had been rain earlier in the day, but as the evening came down, there was only a slight drizzle, and no one was outside because of it.

"Not so fast, Mom!"

"I'm not going fast, we're barely moving!"

She held his waist as his hands clung to the steering wheel nervously trying to straighten out the front tires.

"Turn a little harder," she said. When her hands went up to help him, he leaned forward.

"I got it! I got it! Let me do it!"

They both started giggling as he made a wide turn back into their parking section.

"Let's see if you can park it," she said giving the car a little more gas.

"I can," he said.

"You got it, baby," she whispered as he guided the car into their parking space. She put the hatchback in park and pulled the emergency break up.

Erik leaned back into her and she kissed his cheek.

"You did it," she said.

Erik hopped out of the car and she followed him.

It was a good day for them and she was ready for a shower and some dinner.

"Don't forget to bring down your bag of Goodwill stuff. Grandpop is going to pick it up tomorrow when comes over to fix the toilet."

The downstairs bathroom toilet kept running after each flush and her father refused to let her call a plumber when he could fix it himself. He was worried about their income since she wasn't working.

She walked into her bedroom and lifted the bag of clothes she was donating from off of her bed and placed it onto the floor near the bedroom door.

Her laptop was on the bed and she flipped it on. She checked for messages from N'Jobu and was happy to see a taped face chat link. Before she could open it, N'Jobu was already online sending a private chat link to her. He must've been on his computer and waiting for her to log in.

She ran to her bureau mirror and checked her hair and face. Once she felt she looked decent enough for him, after rolling a bit of tinted lip gloss on, she hopped back on her bed and opened his link.

"Baby," she said, "Wow, look at you."

N'Jobu was dressed in an elaborate dark suit with a colorful gold scarf draped over one shoulder. His hair was freshly cut and he had diamond earrings studded in his ears. And those amazing gold slugs were back on his teeth. Moments like this reminded her that her man was royalty and when he was with his people, he showed up and showed the fuck out. Jesus, he was still so fine. She felt herself swooning.

"Califia."

"Huh?" she said.

"You okay?"

"It's you. I mean, damn N'Jobu."

"I'm going to an art show. Not my idea of fun without you," he said.

Art shows. Fancy meals. Servants. Chauffeurs. Bodyguards. High Society.

And here she was going through old clothes to donate and trying to figure out what to fix for her and Erik to eat in less than twenty minutes and hoping their toilet didn't overflow until her father could fix it.

"You look gorgeous. I'm jealous."

"How was your day today?"

"Good. Erik and I cleaned out our closets for Goodwill. We visited Rolita and her mother. Oh, my father is coming over to fix the toilet tomorrow. It started running—"

"Mom!"

Erik's distraught voice startled Califia. N'Jobu's face was full of alarm. She stood up and saw Erik standing in her bedroom doorway.

"What's wrong?"

He stepped forward and her eyes swept his body looking for an injury or something. All he had in his hands was a yellow t-shirt. He held it out to her.

"Oh, JaJa…come here, come here…"

She held her arms out for him.

"What is it?" N'Jobu asked, his face full of worry.

She pulled Erik onto the bed and let him rest his head on her lap. He was crying and Califia held up the t-shirt for N'Jobu to see.

"JaJa," N'Jobu whispered when he saw Lia's face on the old political t-shirt Erik loved so much. He must've gone through his closet again to check for old things he didn't want and found the garment. He had been doing so well. Seeing her face unraveled him.

"Son, look at me. Look at me," N'Jobu said.

Erik shifted his head on Califia's lap and she rubbed his back to calm him. N'Jobu stared at his little boy.

"She's still with you. She's still here with us. Let her have those tears for a little while…then show her how you will carry her within you. Okay?"

She felt Erik nodding his head but a pitiful moaning sound was coming from his mouth and she felt herself beginning to lose it.

BeStrongBeStrongBeStrong…..

"Baba, my chest hurts so bad," Erik said.

"I know. I know. That pain takes time to go away, and Lia doesn't want you to hurt like that for her."

"I want you to come home!"

The high-pitched wailing from his little chest made Califia feel so small without N'Jobu there with them.

"I want to be home with you too. But Baba has to work so I can take care of you and Mom. You have school tomorrow, so you'll be busy…and what about the chess club? Do you think you want to join…?"

The mundane talk of school eased Erik's breathing, and once N'Jobu had him talking about choices of high school and online courses for the following year, their son had stopped crying and sat up from her lap. N'Jobu even had him laughing about his favorite anime and Califia felt her body ease into a relaxed state.

"Feeling better?" N'Jobu asked Erik.

"Yeah," Erik said.

"I'll keep this and you can watch some tv until I fix dinner, okay?" Califia said.

"Okay. Bye, Baba."

"Bye, JaJa."

Erik stepped off of their bed and left the bedroom. Califia heard him head down the stairs. She looked back at N'Jobu and took a deep breath.

"That was rough," she said.

"It will come and go," he said.

She looked at his suit again and reached out to touch his face on the screen.

"I better go cook us dinner. Babe…you really look amazing."

N'Jobu stared at her and in that moment, she felt what he was thinking and it made her feel desired and loved. She broke eye contact with him and just looked at his clothes again.

"I will be offline for a few days. I just wanted to check in with you."

She nodded and saw him look over his shoulder.

"I better get going," he said.

"Okay."

His screen went dark.

Califia sat for a few minutes, quietly centering herself before she went downstairs to cook for herself and Erik.

###

The gallery was packed.

Once word spread that Prince N'Jobu was in the city, many favors were called in for people who desired to attend the opening to see him.

N'Jobu spent most of his time near his parents, escorting his mother whenever his father was hemmed up by supporters and friends. He took one moment alone to grab a glass of honey wine and to check out a small mixed media painting hidden behind a floating wall. The art piece in front of him was intriguing, a depiction of Warrior Falls that shifted its design perspective depending on where one stood. Looking at it from the middle, it looked like the Falls at midday. But if one walked past it from left to right, the sunlight moved as if it were a time-lapse of morning to night. Clever. He glanced down at the name of the artist on the title card underneath it.

"Interesting piece, is it not Prince N'Jobu?"

N'Jobu glanced to his right and noticed the svelte figure of a dark brown-skinned woman with short stylish locs swept to one side of her head. Kohl-lined eyes that reminded him of Califia's feline gaze peered back at him intently. Several thin silver choker necklaces encircled her throat. Her eggplant-colored strapless gown revealed shapely shoulders and the bone-white corset that cinched her waist drew his eye to the high shelf curve of her backside. Great Bast. Who was this?

"It is an engaging depiction of Warrior Falls," he said allowing his eyes to drift back to the art on the wall. The woman's direct gaze without the usual deference accorded him because of his status caught him off guard. He was accustomed to citizens fawning over him if they found themselves in his presence. This woman stood there as if he should know who she was. No automatic bowing or standing back from him, no "Your Highness," or "I shall leave you be."

She stood right next to him. Crept up on him in a stealth-like fashion. He stepped forward to re-claim his ownership of the space, but she stepped forward too and moved a little closer to him.

The hell?

He glanced at her again and then he tapped his kimoyo bead discreetly. Within seconds, Yejide stood near him.

"Your Highness?" Yejide said.

"Yejide!" the woman said rushing forward and embracing the Dora.

Now wait just a damn minute, N'Jobu thought as the woman brushed past him as if Yejide were the most important person in the world.

"Lady Ramonda!" Yejide said, standing stiffly, trying to stay on her task of assisting her Prince, but clearly excited to see….

Ramonda.

Oh, so this was the woman his parents wanted his brother to meet. A possible future Queen.

N'Jobu really stared at her now.

"Do not worry about him, I promise no harm will befall your charge," Ramonda said winking her eye at N'Jobu. He couldn't help by smile at her lack of deference now. She really didn't give a care that he was royalty.

"So, you are the Ramonda—" N'Jobu started to say, stepping forward to get a more proper introduction, but she turned her back on him and linked arms with Yejide pulling her aside, ignoring N'Jobu completely.

"How are you, sister? I have been hearing glowing reports about your work in the palace," Ramonda said.

Poor Yejide let her eyes focus on N'Jobu. He held up his hands freeing her to interact with the assertive woman.

"I am well, Lady Ramonda—"

"Is Ometeko still paired with you?"

"Yes…Your Highness?"

N'Jobu smiled and motioned for Yejide to leave them alone. Yejide bowed, gave Ramonda a look, and pivoted her legs in a severe military turn to refocus herself on her job.

"I remember when she first tried out to be a Dora. So timid. I was not so keen on keeping her in the ranks. But look at her now," Ramonda said as she turned on her heel to face N'Jobu again. She must've read something in his face because she smiled coyly and finally lowered her head to him, "I hope she has earned your respect, Your Highness."

"She and Ometeko, both. Lady Ramonda, is it?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Lady Ramonda Nkoli," she said.

"Daughter of Matsimela," he said.

"Yes."

Ramonda's eyes went back to the art on the wall.

"Did you notice the bit of detail on the waterfall?" she said moving closer to the painting and pointing to a spot near the top.

N'Jobu moved forward to see what she was talking about.

"It shimmers," he said as he looked at the mica flakes embedded in the blue of the water on the piece. His eyes met hers again and he found himself becoming more enchanted with her. All he knew about her was that she had been a Dora for his mother years ago while he was away in London for undergrad studies. She rose in ranks and was hand-picked to leave the Dora Milaje in direct action and to become a trainer for future Doras.

A server wandered into the area with fresh glasses of honey wine and Ramonda grabbed one and N'Jobu replaced his with a fresh one.

"Here's to interesting art," he said clinking his glass with hers.

"And to interesting people," she replied.

At that moment he realized she was flirting with him. Bast help him. All the disregard for protocol made sense now. Did she not know why she was really brought to this opening?

"I am going to check out the sculptures now. Please excuse me," he said moving past her.

"Do you mind if I come with you? I have not had the opportunity to see the sculptures myself. I have been hiding out here from my parents," she said.

For the first time, N'Jobu saw uncertainty in her eyes.

"Why are you hiding out?" he asked.

"I thought I was here to enjoy the art, but my parents…they are trying to set me up…introducing me to someone, and I am not in the mood to pretend like I am interested tonight. Do you mind being my buffer? Just for a little while?"

Now he was really taken in by her. She had no clue what was happening to her, and she unknowingly wanted him to keep her away from some random dude that happened to be his brother. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he grinned instead.

"I suppose I could assist you. You do not know anything about the man your parents have fixed you up with?"

"They have been trying to marry me off for years, and I keep telling them to let me be on that topic. But what I can I do?"

"Follow me," he said turning away from her.

He kept two steps ahead of her as she tried her best to walk next to him. Yejide followed them and when they reached the hall of sculptures, he got stuck for a few minutes greeting some dignitaries, and then he was able to move into the space.

He walked with Ramonda, always keeping ahead of her, and he could tell this bugged her until she caught on that he expected her to stay in her place when interacting with him. She finally got the hint that she was not on his level and he noticed that she made sure to stay at least two body lengths away from him and not shoulder to shoulder.

She was very critical of the sculptures, but the ones she did like, he liked them too. She had a sharp eye for detail and once they began talking about certain pieces, he learned that she was also a sculptor and almost went into art full time before she became a Dora Milaje. They talked and walked and after a time he had to ask her a question.

"Why did you leave the corps?" he asked, curious to know why she removed herself from that career.

"I missed being out in the field. When I worked for the Queen Mother, she always told me I should train up the Doras to be like me. That was such a high compliment. I loved working for her, and I was very happy training future Doras. But now…I actually would like to take a break and explore art again. I rented a small house near the Jabari mountains that I want to convert into a studio. However, I have to muddle through this thing with my parents. I made an agreement with them. They allow me a year of peace to sculpt without judgment of my life choices, and I would go on a few meet and greets with suitable men."

"You are not interested in marriage?" he asked.

"I am. But I would like to take this time to work with my hands in creative ways again. Not just teaching the Doras how to break necks in the most efficient way possible."

N'Jobu laughed out loud, and Ramonda smiled wide. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners when she did, and her lips made her mouth look inviting. How many hearts had she broken when she became a Dora and dedicated her life to the throne? He wondered.

"What are you looking for in a partner?" he asked.

She rattled off a litany of the usual things most people wanted, and somehow the topic switched to food and then politics and then art again. She was delightful and didn't back down from her convictions, especially when it came to opinions about T'Chaka. She didn't even care that she was speaking to the brother of the King. Her biggest judgment was that she felt that T'Chaka kept himself too far apart from their people. His way of ruling was impersonal and off-putting because he separated himself from society.

She was right.

Her eyes studied his face, and he felt himself becoming uncomfortable being alone with her in the section of the sculpture space they were in.

"I need to return to my parents. Shall I escort you to yours?" he said.

She looked disappointed. Her smile faded.

"I thank you for sharing your knowledge of the work here. I wish you success with your own artistic endeavors…"

Yejide stepped forward, and N'Jobu began to feel awkward trying to get away from Ramonda. It was a weird feeling. He wanted to hang with her because she was interesting and had unique insights on how the new art coming out of Birnin Djata really reflected the state of their country, but at the same time, this was to be his brother's possible courtship dance, and Ramonda was acting like N'Jobu had just broken up with her.

"I am sure the man your parents would like for you to meet here will keep you entertained."

Ramonda shrugged her shoulders.

"Hopefully he will be as gracious and as enjoyable as you, Your Highness," she said.

"I doubt that very much, but he can sure try," N'Jobu said getting her to smile again.

"Too bad he is not you," she said as her eyes caught a look at something behind him.

N'Jobu turned to see his brother walking up to them with an older couple along with his own mother.

"Ramonda, daughter, come and greet the Queen Mother, and King T'Chaka," the older woman said.

Ramonda's eyes grew wide, and she glanced back at N'Jobu again.

"Trust me, he is not as gracious or as enjoyable as me. But he will not bore you, Lady Ramonda," N'Jobu said.

"Lady Ramonda," T'Chaka said, reaching for Ramonda's hand.

N'Jobu heard the slight turn of pitch in his brother's voice. Ramonda was not what he expected. As his brother kissed Ramonda's hand, N'Jobu could tell that T'Chaka was smitten already. His eyes were glued to her face. Their mother looked pleased. Like the cat that snared the canary.

N'Jobu greeted Ramonda's parents and then he excused himself. His eyes sought out Ramonda's one last time before leaving. They were still bewitching eyes, her expression letting him know that she was not in a million years expecting anyone like this. And something else was there too.

Disappointment again.

###

Califia stood by the sound system and watched her class of dancers execute her choreography just short of perfection. It was Saturday and she felt a ripple of pleasure course through her body as she enjoyed the feeling of sweat and movement on her own body.

Dante stood in the corner uncovering his drum with his drum corps as they waited for her session to end so that his beginning capoeira class could begin.

"One last time y'all, from the top. Get it in!" Califia yelled as the dancers got into formation again. She saw Erik hanging near his grandfather watching, his right foot tapping in time to the massive beats that rattled the floor.

Califia slid her feet over to him shaking her hips, drawing his eyes to her face as she held out her hands encouraging him to join her. He shook his head while looking away from her and she pranced in front of him doing one of his signature moves that made him laugh.

Dante started warming up his drum. Joining in time to the music on the sound system. The bells hanging above the front door jangled and James walked in carrying his drum bag. Whenever N'Jobu was gone for a period of time, James was always there, watching over them. Dante convinced him to start drumming on Saturdays and James came faithfully, improving his technique.

The music really started rocking when the rest of the drummers joined Dante in playing and Erik finally eased in front of her following her steps. The two of them danced together in sync and James pulled out his cell to tape them.

"Go Erik, go Erik, go Erik…" the class chanted and her son leveled up his moves.

"Whatchu got little boy, huh?" she challenged and Erik stopped and bent his left knee, placing his hands on it and just letting his right-side move, popping his booty out, imitating the girls in the class.

The drums thundered and Califia spun around grabbing Erik's hands and pulling him closer to her.

"Aye, from the top again!" Califia yelled to the class as Dante walked over with his drum strapped to his waist and standing in front of Califia and Erik. The rhythmic hip hop beats flowed easily with the drumming as she danced next to Erik in front of the mirrors. Everybody that moved in the space was on point and when they reached the end of the choreo, Califia cartwheeled into a handstand and then swiped her legs around Erik.

Dante placed his drum on the floor and slid into the action, and Erik stepped back allowing his grandfather to play with Califia too, the three of them twisting and turning, their bodies bending and jumping. James moved in closer with his cell.

"Erik, say hi to your Dad so I can send him this," James called out.

Erik waved at the phone and Califia lifted him up from behind and Erik dissolved into peals of laughter as she twirled him like he was a carousel.

"Califia," James called to her and she looked at his phone and crossed her eyes while sticking out her tongue.

"Hey, babe," she said to the cell.

James turned his phone camera back on his face.

"JoJo, she was saying that to you, not me," James said.

The door bells jangled again and Califia put Erik down when she saw who walked in. He was a bit leaner and his hair was longer, but those deep-set eyes looked the same as when she first saw them when she was fifteen.

"Cedric," she said. Confusion prickled her face and she moved over to the sound system turning off the music.

"Thanks, everyone," she said clapping her hands and walking over to Cedric. The class scattered as the transition from one session to the next began.

"Hey," she said feeling awkward, especially in front of Erik who was watching Cedric curiously. Cedric stepped into her personal space and held out his hands for a hug, and she gave him one, making sure not to act overly familiar with him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Had a layover, decided to see if this place was still here—"

"Mom," Erik said handing her bottled water and standing right next to her.

Cedric looked at Erik when he heard "Mom" and a smile appeared on his face.

"Hey there, what's your name?" Cedric asked.

"What's yours?" Erik tossed back.

Califia stared at her boy and Cedric chuckled.

"Fair enough. I'm Cedric," he said holding out his hand.

"Erik," her son said shaking the man's hand.

"Strong grip young man," Cedric said.

Erik looked up at her face and Califia could really sense the internal interrogation going in Erik's head.

A layover in Oakland? She didn't believe that for one minute.

"How long is your layover?"

"Just a few hours. Just took a chance and…well here you are."

"Hi," Dante said sticking out his hand toward Cedric, "I'm Dante, her father."

"How's it going, sir? I know Califia from Martha's Vineyard. Grew up with Bakari."

"Yeah…oh, yeah, okay. Glad to meet you. Excuse me, I have a class to start. Califia, I can get Eugene to do the drum for me."

"Erik, do you mind helping Grandpop while I talk?" Califia said.

She could tell Erik didn't want to, more interested in this strange man talking to her. She wondered if his father told him to act like this while he was gone.

"Erik?" she said again and her son stepped away from her and reached for Dante's drum on the floor and moved it back with the other drummers.

Califia had Cedric follow her to a back section that had folding chairs set up. They seated themselves and Cedric surveyed the space. He looked back at her as Dante's students trickled in and began warming up on the floor.

"So…motherhood really agrees with you, Cali. You look great," he said.

"A little heavier," she said touching her stomach.

"It fits you," he said as his eyes glossed over her short leggings and tank top.

"I saw you and your son tearing it up through the window. That was pretty cool."

Cedric's eyes went to her naked ring finger and then glanced over at Erik again.

"Yeah, he's a great kid. Takes after his Dad a lot, so the two of them together can be a little crazy," she said letting him know Erik's father was in the picture.

"I just wanted to see you again. You don't really do personal social media, but I saw the website for here, and so…you know…"

She looked at his left hand and saw a wedding band.

"Married, huh?"

"Divorcing."

"Sorry to hear that."

"You?"

"I'm with Erik's Dad. Going strong," she said.

"I have two daughters and a son," he said.

"Oh, wow. You've been busy," she said laughing, "Pictures?"

He pulled out his phone and showed a family photo. Good-looking children. His wife…ex-wife, looked how she always imagined the woman he would end up with would look like. Conservative and perfectly coiffed hair. Good make-up. Body still trim. Children miniature versions of them both. Classy and safe. The oldest girl looked to be about seven.

"You keep up with Albert?" she said.

"He's still single. Has a son with a woman in Maryland."

Califia watched Erik keep the lead drum beat in place of her. They watched her father lead his class in basic moves.

She wondered if Cedric came looking for her to see if he could get next to her again since he was divorcing. She kept her personal stuff off of social media for N'Jobu's sake. The things she did have online were private and open to only a tiny number of people.

"Can I take you and your son out to eat?"

She had to admit she was curious about him. Curious about the goings on back in Oak Bluffs.

Free food for her and Erik and a distraction from missing N'Jobu.

Why not?

###

"But if Godzilla is a replicant and can regenerate whenever he wants to, why would they stay on the planet? They can't kill him, so why not go to a new planet?"

Cedric looked confused and starving for the answer to his question. Erik twirled his fork in his hand and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Because it's the only planet that can sustain life and they lost all their tech and can't rebuild their ship," Erik said.

Califia savored the French onion soup she ate along with her ribeye steak. Erik enjoyed a gourmet hamburger with sweet potato fries along with Cedric who ordered the same thing. Erik had been a little stand-offish with Cedric as he sat between them, but once Cedric mentioned that his daughter was into the new Godzilla animated series, Erik's eyes perked up and they discussed the show non-stop.

"But if the monster planet has the resources to create metal and a lot of their housing, why couldn't they re-build their ship too?"

"I don't write the show, I just watch it," Erik said and Cedric burst out laughing making Erik smile.

Cedric glanced at Califia, and she just shook her head.

"I need to use the restroom," Erik said.

Califia scooted over and allowed him to leave.

"Is he okay by himself?" Cedric said.

"Trust me, no one is going to snatch up my son if they know what's best for them. Thank you for asking though."

"This is nice," he said.

"It was good hearing about folks back east, Thank you for this meal too."

"Erik is…Erik is really sharp. His vocabulary and the way he thinks…school must be a breeze for him."

"He doesn't attend a traditional school for most days. He starts high school next year."

"High school? Holy shit. At 9?"

"Yep. It's a struggle keeping him grounded. His mind and ideas are so far beyond what traditional schools can do for him. He'll probably start college when he's twelve. His father and I are trying to figure out how to balance it out. It's hard keeping up with him sometimes."

"My eyes did glaze over a bit when he was talking about his science experiments at home when we were driving over. Half the time I didn't even know what he was talking about. Tetrach…tetris dee…parrodox?"

"Tetrachlorodibenzoparadioxin. Don't let it scare you. It's the chemical toxin made from wood burning. He's trying to figure out a way to clean the air when we get all these wildfires in California every year."

"Well, my kids are trying to figure out how to dress themselves neatly on their own. Yay."

Califia chuckled.

"Trust me, Erik is still a little kid himself in a lot of ways."

"I always wondered what a child from you would be like. It's you, but extra helpings."

They laughed together.

Erik returned with his own cell phone stuck to his ear. When he approached the table, he handed his phone to Califia.

"It's Baba," Erik said.

Califia's face froze.

"Could you excuse me for a moment? Erik, finish your food."

Califia moved from the table grabbing her purse and walking into the restaurant lobby. She glanced at her phone in her purse and saw that she missed three calls and a private face chat from N'Jobu. Erik probably blabbed about their meal with Cedric. She took a breath and tried to sound cheery.

"Hey! How are you?"

"Cedric?"

"Yeah. He had a layover and came around to the studio and saw us there. He's treating us to dinner before he goes back to his wife and kids."

She could've said home or family, but she wanted to soothe her man because she already knew his mind was racing in the wrong direction.

"Everything good on your end?" she said glancing over to their dinner table. Erik was chatting with Cedric and Cedric had a big grin on his face while listening.

"How long is his layover?"

His voice was tight. Dammit. They hadn't spoken in two weeks, Just emails and pre-recorded video messages.

"He has to leave within the next hour."

"Face chat me on our private line when you get home."

'N'Jobu, don't trip."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice."

"He just shows up out of the blue?"

"He had a layover and remembered the studio—"

"He's not Bakari or Soliel, or one of your college buddies from way back—"

"We're just having dinner and catching up. I knew him as a kid. We know the same people I grew up with—"

"You had a relationship with him. A sexual one. I'm never going to look at him like he's just an old homeboy."

"Ohmigod, is this going to be a big deal? Is it? Let me know now so I can hang up. I would think you would be happy to hear my voice and know that I am doing well. Getting out of the house and doing things with Erik. Who is doing great by the way. But since you are so worried about old dick—"

"Alright, alright. Chill—"

"You chill. Why are you so uptight? What did Erik tell you?"

"He said your old boyfriend took you two out for dinner."

"Old boyfriend? How did he know that? Did you tell him that?"

"No, so he must've picked up on something between you two that was pretty obvious—"

"All we are doing is talking and eating. He's telling me about his children, I'm telling him about Erik and you."

Silence.

She rubbed the side of her neck. Together for almost ten years as a family, and this man could still make her feel guilty for no reason.

"Finish your meal and get back to me when you can," he said.

Her jaw clenched.

"Califia?"

"Okay."

She hung up on him.

###

Umama was really pulling out all the stops for Ramonda.

An elaborate dinner outside on the moon observation deck high above the palace. The best wines from the family wine vault. The entire Udaku royal family decked out in clothing reserved for state functions. Two council elders in attendance.

N'Jobu ate his food and tried his best to appear pleasant, but he was upset. When Califia didn't answer her phone the previous day, he went to his go-to number which was his son. He caught Erik washing his hands in the bathroom with a video chat.

"Where are you?" N'Jobu had asked not recognizing the facilities.

"Mom's old boyfriend is treating us to dinner."

Erik said it so easily that N'Jobu thought he misheard for a second. Who the fuck was feeding his wife and son at a fancy restaurant?

Erik spilled the beans, describing the man, saying his name, and giving his keen observational skills. When Califia denied telling Erik the extent of her relationship with Cedric, N'Jobu wondered what they had done to tip Erik off to something sexual in nature to make him conclude that Cedric was more than a simple old friend.

When she hung up on him, he let his anger and resentment settle and he searched deep within to figure out what upset him so much. She said the man was married and had children. He had to take into account that he was once engaged to Zinzi, had sexual contact with her, and they were still good friends and he saw her once a year back home. Cedric hadn't been around for ten years. N'Jobu suspected that something was amiss in Cedric's marriage to make him go out of his way to see Califia. N'Jobu could only remember that horrible moment a long time ago when he sought out his woman and he saw her screwing Cedric hard inside their home. Screwing her like she was the breath Cedric needed to survive in the world. Saw that man's dick thrusting into his love and she liked it.

He could feel his body yearning for Califia in that terrible way it did whenever he was in Wakanda. And knowing that other man was in her vicinity, eating with his own child no less, it made N'Jobu rigid and ready to fight.

He concentrated on his brother.

T'Chaka was charming and funny and for a pleasant moment, he was almost his old self, acting the way he did when Bathwandwa was alive. Ramonda was drawing his good qualities back out. It had only been two weeks, but N'Jobu knew that his brother was in love. Ramonda cut the King no slack, and she didn't mince words if she disagreed with T'Chaka, and this made Umama smile so hard.

Although he didn't know Ramonda well, he could tell that she was liking T'Chaka. Maybe more than just like him.

The first dinner she had been invited to at the palace, with her parents in attendance, she had cornered him during the after-dinner libations and punched him in his arm.

"You knew everything," she said.

"I did, but I didn't know it was you until you harassed me."

"Harassed you?"

"All up in my face. Not giving me peace to contemplate art by myself," he teased. Those sharp eyes of hers made him feel strange again.

"I was so embarrassed," she whispered, "you were making fun of me."

"I was not!"

"Lower your voice," she hissed.

He lowered it, "I was minding my business…wait, why am I lowering my voice in my own home?!"

Ramonda rolled her eyes at him and left him standing with a glass of port in his hand. T'Chaka had glanced their way and N'Jobu decided to check in with him. His brother's eyes questioned the private conversation between himself and Ramonda.

"Your intended is angry with me," N'Jobu said.

"My intended? We are simply in the preliminary—"

"Stop. This is me, your brother. I know you. You are taken with her. Just pick a date and let us end this tiresome charade."

Ramonda walked over to them.

"Welcome back Queen Ram—"

T'Chaka thrust his elbow into N'Jobu's side, and N'Jobu felt a bit of wind get knocked out of him before he could get all his words out.

"I hope the dinner was satisfactory," T'Chaka said, and N'Jobu stood there enjoying the tinge of desperation in his brother's voice trying to impress Ramonda.

"It was wonderful, Your Highness. Thank you for inviting me and my parents. My mother wants the recipe for the pheasant crepes."

"And she shall have it," T'Chaka said.

Dear Bast, this was painful for N'Jobu to watch.

"What is wrong with your face?" Ramonda asked.

N'Jobu glanced at his brother first then looked at Ramonda.

"Nothing is wrong with my face—"

"You look like you are in pain," she said.

"I think Umama would like to see me…" N'Jobu said looking for an out.

"No one is looking for you," she said.

"Then I will look for someone," he said.

"Did your brother tell you how he made fun of me?" she said.

T'Chaka glared at N'Jobu.

"Hey…" N'Jobu said.

"Shall I have him arrested for you? I can place him in isolation from the fireworks if you would like."

"Fireworks?" She questioned.

A loud explosion erupted from outside and T'Chaka held out his elbow for her.

"Right on time," T'Chaka said as Ramonda took his arm.

"Thank Bast," N'Jobu said and Ramonda flipped him off without looking as N'Jobu walked behind the two of them.

"Ramonda!"

Ramonda's mother's voice called out from clear across the room.

"Sorry, Mother," Ramonda said.

N'Jobu grinned and Ramonda stuck her tongue out at him making him laugh.

This woman.

She could very well save T'Chaka.

Everyone congregated on the observation deck balcony and watched the fireworks that burst in fiery rainbows of color over the city.

"Are you celebrating something?" Ramonda asked T'Chaka.

"You," T'Chaka said, and Ramonda's eyes became coquettish. Had N'Jobu and the others not been present he was positive his brother would've kissed her.

The blossoming romance right before him made N'Jobu miss his Califia and his son. They should be there with them all watching the extravagant light show that was only happening because his brother was beholden to a woman that could probably bring him to his knees. N'Jobu knew that feeling well and welcomed it. Wholeheartedly.

"Prince N'Jobu."

N'Jobu glanced across the table and saw Ramonda's cousin Allem staring at him.

"Yes?" he said to the woman. Allem's full lips were stained red like the wine they drinking.

"Will you be attending the Star Light Ball this year?" she asked.

"I will be there," he said trying to remember the reason why Ramonda's cousin was there. Oh yes, a potential mate for him. Two more weeks and he could get on a plane and jet home. Hopefully.

Allem looked thrilled that he said he was attending the ball. He skipped it the previous year but felt it was best to go this year to stay the obedient younger Prince. Play his role until he could be away from the palace.

His kimoyo beads lit up. The signature was from Jax.

N'Jobu sent a quick message that he would meet his boys at Quantum, the new private bar outside of Djata. He needed a break.

When the formal dinner was over, N'Jobu left the guests and fled as discreetly as he could to his suite. He dressed down in jeans and a plain designer pull over, then hit a private chat line to try and catch his woman. She had ignored his apology texts and just let Erik touch base with him after their dinner with Cedric. Califia didn't answer, so he checked Erik's line. His son was connected. He made small talk, discussed school but then he seized the moment to pump information out of Erik.

"JaJa, what made you say that Cedric was Mom's old boyfriend?"

"I could tell."

"How?"

"I just could."

"Be specific."

The face chat they had was private, Erik was in his room and Califia was downstairs watching tv.

"Are you upset about this, Baba?"

"No. I'm just curious how you could figure that out without your Mom or I telling you that information."

Erik stared at N'Jobu for a moment.

"You don't like Cedric," Erik said.

"I don't know him. I have never met him."

Awkward silence. Erik was feeling out the situation, and even five thousand miles away, his boy could tell the truth. His eyes broke away from N'Jobu's.

"His voice," Erik said.

"His voice?"

"And his eyes."

"Help me understand, JaJa. Really, I'm just curious."

"He looked at Mom and talked to her the way you do. And you love Mom. So I knew he loved Mom too before he had a wife and kids."

N'Jobu gave a deep sigh.

"Baba," Erik said, his eyes contemplative and a bit guarded.

"Yes, my Son."

"Mom didn't talk to him or look at him the way she does with you."

N'Jobu gave his son a wide smile.

There was a knock on Erik's door. Califia walked in. When she saw N'Jobu's face she stopped moving.

N'Jobu felt his heart open up for her.

"Hey," she said, her eyes glancing at Erik.

N'Jobu held his hands under his suite desk and shot off a quick message to Jax that he would be late joining him.

"Can I tell you both a story?" he asked.

Erik's eyes lit up and N'Jobu watched Califia's body language.

"Sure," she said when she saw how eager Erik was.

N'Jobu needed to tell her in the stories of his people how he was feeling. He could tell she didn't want to have a private talk with him, but he wanted to connect with them both.

Erik picked up his laptop and carried it over to his bed. It was almost the afternoon there and a Sunday. Perfect. Sunday was always their family day of rest.

Califia crawled on the bed next to Erik and he watched their son lean back into her.

"I want to tell you the story of Entabeni and Sekmet. It is how a God from one world traveled across the heavens and saw his great love, a Goddess from another world, and did whatever he could to be with her, no matter what. And despite the fact that he was a jealous God, stubborn, quick to make assumptions…a ridiculous deity really, his heart was in the right place and needed to be with her for eternity."

Califia gave him a sly look.

"Baba, you're not good at disguising this story. You're talkin' about you and Mom," Erik said.

"Am I?"

"It's so obvious," Erik said crossing his arms.

"I am quite sure that this is an ancient story I heard from my own Baba when I was your age. Hmmm. Maybe I should choose another one-?"

"No, we want to hear this one!" Erik said glancing up at Califia.

"Yes, we want to hear this story," Califia said leaning her head back against the headboard.

Erik's eyes looked deep into his mother's and then he scooted his face closer to the laptop screen.

"Baba…"

"Yes, JaJa," N'Jobu said.

"Mom has that look in her eyes and that sound in her voice. The way you do it."

Califia looked at both of them confused.

"That is good, my Son. Very good."

He spun the tale for them. And his heart eased. No worries about Cedric. No worries about T'Chaka keeping him in Wakanda. No worries about what he had to accomplish while he was in his home country to secure a cache of vibranium.

At this moment, his very own Sekmet made him whole and kept him in her world. That was all that mattered.

Chapter 22 HERE.

[mikauzoran]

Adrienette Drabble Twenty-Four: Request

Gabriel really wanted to akumatize someone. Honestly, he needed the stress relief because the deadlines were closing in on him, and the backers kept changing their minds, and he was about ready to tear his hair out.

He briefly considered taking up yoga or meditation. He’d read something about those being good for stress in one of the books about anxiety he’d read to help Adrien.

Gabriel looked down at his screen and sighed. He’d been working on this last-minute project for the past three hours, and he really needed a break. He couldn’t take a break if he wanted to go to sleep at a decent time. 

He really wanted to go whine at Nathalie. She would have something constructive to say.

He was also tempted to go find Plagg. Plagg had elevated kvetching to an art form, and Plagg would definitely have a snarky and poignant remark that would make Gabriel’s personal deadline hell a bit more bearable.

It was at this time that Gabriel was surprised to find himself thinking about Nooroo. The little kwami had always been so…oddly enough, supportive. Tentatively encouraging Gabriel…only to be snapped at, fussing over Gabriel’s health and well-being (to be forcibly silenced), worrying when Gabriel pushed himself too hard, hesitantly trying to comfort Gabriel when he failed time and time again…Nooroo had been unwavering in his dedication to his master. And Gabriel had treated Nooroo as a tool, a thing with no thoughts or feelings.

Gabriel had never thought of kwamis as sentient beings before meeting Plagg, and now—

There was a knock at the atelier door.

“Come in?”

Adrien tentatively peeked his head inside. “Hi, Dad. Is now a good time?” 

Adrien mentally crossed his fingers because it hadn’t been a good time the past week and a half, and now he only had two hours until he had to leave if he were going to go.

Gabriel looked down at the urgent email that required an immediate response. He pursed his lips. “Is this important?”

Adrien wilted slightly and was forced to admit, “…No. No, it’s not important. I just had to ask your permission for something.”

“Then why don’t you ask Nathalie?” Gabriel proposed, delighting in the fact that he now had an official co-parent in his fiancée to whom he could cede authority without society criticizing him for neglecting his child.

“I already did,” Adrien begrudgingly confessed.

Gabriel’s brow creased in confusion. “And…?”

“She said yes, but then she said I needed to go ask you because you would most likely say no,” Adrien informed out of the side of his mouth, reluctantly releasing the information.

“Can this wait?” Gabriel looked back down at his screen and the additional emails that had arrived that he’d need to deal with. “I’m actually quite busy at the moment, and I don’t really have time for—”

Gabriel stopped dead when he realized he was about to tell his son that he didn’t have time for him.

Gabriel closed his mouth, really looked at Adrien—hopeful yet not truly believing, battered dog wondering if he was going to get kicked this time—and sighed. “Give me ten minutes to finish this email correspondence. Can this wait ten minutes?”

“Yes, Father,” Adrien replied, brightening incrementally.

“All right. Go wait for me in the dining room in the seating area. If I’m not there in ten minutes, please come back and remind me that part of the reason I’m even running this fashion empire in the first place is to provide for my son. I get caught up in the work and forget sometimes,” Gabriel confessed with a weary sigh.

Adrien grinned, practically glowing at being reminded that he was important. “Thanks, Dad.”

It was concerning how easy it was to make that boy happy.

 “All right,” Gabriel sighed, taking a seat across the coffee table from Adrien. “What did you need to ask my permission for that Nathalie thinks I’m going to veto?”

Adrien bit his lip. “So…there’s this party.”

“Oh,” Gabriel groaned. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed.

“Keep talking,” Gabriel urged. “I’ll try to be open-minded.”

“Chloé’s throwing a graduation party tonight since…well, you know. We graduated high school this morning,” Adrien continued awkwardly.

Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek. “How many people are going to be there?”

“One or two hundred-ish?” Adrien guesstimated. “The people from our year mostly and their dates and plus ones.”

Gabriel nodded. “And where is this party taking place?”

“Chloé rented a boat. They’re going to do the same stretch up and down the Seine as the bateaux mouches from the Eiffel Tower to just past Notre Dame.”

“And will there be drinking?” Gabriel continued his investigation.

Adrien winced. “Well…we’re all eighteen now, so…”

“If you were allowed to go, would you be drinking?” Gabriel changed the question.

Adrien opened his mouth to vehemently deny any intention of wrongdoing, but Gabriel cut him off.

“—Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear. How am I supposed to trust you on your own if we can’t sit down and honestly discuss expectations and guidelines and-and…I forget what else the parenting guidebooks said, but the gist of it was that you were supposed to be able to tell me you were thinking about having sex, and then I was not to overreact and forbid it and lock you in your room as would be my natural inclination, but I was instead to make sure that you were having safe sex instead of going behind my back. I assume that the same principles apply to allowing you to go to parties or karaoke or what have you.”

Adrien winced again, trying not to think too hard about this very awkward conversation they were having. “Okay. Fine. So if you let me go to the party, I’ll probably sip at a glass of wine or two depending on if there’s food to have with it, but, regardless, I’m not going to get drunk because I know being drunk in public is against the rules for very good reasons. Even if it weren’t, I can’t get drunk because what if there’s an akuma? I have to be sober enough to fight. If I’m not, who’s going to protect Ma—My Lady?”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “That’s…very mature of you.” His son seemed to be constantly surprising him now that Gabriel took the time to notice.

Adrien shrugged. “A lot of people count on me to keep them safe; I don’t have the luxury of being a stupid teenager. Besides, I’d never forgive myself if I were irresponsible and something happened to Ladybug because of it…. I love her too much to risk it.”

Suddenly, from the look in Adrien’s eyes and the expression on his face, Gabriel thought he knew who Ladybug was, and it was a very scary thought.

“Wouldn’t you do the same for Mother or Nathalie?” Adrien tried to make Gabriel understand, not knowing the truth of how far exactly his father had gone for Emilie.

“Of course,” Gabriel replied softly. “…So…I gather that I don’t need to worry about your comportment, if I allow you to go to this party?”

“I don’t think so. I’m not advertently going to get myself on the front of the gossip rags. I was just planning on dancing and chatting with friends. And, I mean, it’s been years since I’ve done a boat ride down the Seine, so that sounded like fun,” Adrien tentatively made his case.

Gabriel snickered, “So no dancing on tables or singing in public tonight?”

Adrien’s face went strawberry red. “There was no table dancing the other night either,” he protested. “I know that if I want to dance on tables, I’ll have to do so as Chat Noir because Adrien Agreste would never get away with it.”

“Is dancing on tables something you would be interested in?” Gabriel had to wonder.

Adrien pursed his lips in thought for a moment before replying. “…Yes? It looks like fun.”

“…Don’t they often dance on tables in musicals? Perhaps we could find you a suitable musical to participate in,” Gabriel offered, trying to be supportive without having a solid grasp of how one managed that.

Adrien stared at his father, wondering how the man had transformed so much in such a short amount of time and, furthermore, why. Had it been because of Adrien’s struggles as of late? If Adrien had known that all it would take to get his father’s attention would be to have a mental breakdown, Adrien would have done so years earlier.

“I…would really, really like that,” Adrien replied in a small voice that hinted at how afraid he was to believe the proposal was a genuine one, lest he wind up disappointed yet again.

“Perhaps the four of us can watch some musicals together to try to find a good fit?” Gabriel suggested. “If Plagg doesn’t mind musicals.”

Truthfully, the prospect of theatre coming back into his life without Emilie along with it was an uncomfortable one for Gabriel, but…if it was important to Adrien…if theatre was something Adrien really wanted to do…

“Could we actually?” Adrien gawked openly at his father. “You’d be okay with that?”

Gabriel shifted, unsettled. “I’ve decided to work on being okay with it. If you’re serious?”

Adrien nodded. “I’ve always loved acting. These past few years…” He swallowed down the upwelling emotion. “I’ve missed it. I would really like acting to be a part of my life again, even without…”

Gabriel took a deep breath. “…Your mother would be proud of you. She…Emilie could chatter on about plays for hours…. I’m sorry that she’s not here to share this with you. I’m sorry that I can’t…can’t talk about theatre like she could.”

Adrien shook his head and smiled softly. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s not your fault.”

Gabriel was about to reply that it really was, even if Adrien couldn’t understand that at the moment, but Plagg poked his head out of Adrien’s shirt collar and fixed Gabriel with a knowing look.

“Gabe,” Plagg intoned. “What have we been talking about? Emilie isn’t your fault, okay?”

Gabriel grumbled in dissent. “We shall have to continue our debate on the subject of what exactly I am to be held accountable for at a later date, Plagg, as we still find ourselves in disagreement.”

“I’m going to win this debate,” Plagg warned. “But not in front of the kid.”

Gabriel gave a snort, and Plagg disappeared back down Adrien’s shirt out of habit.

Adrien furrowed his brow. “Do I want to know?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel answered honestly. “You’d probably want to know but then regret knowing. I’ll tell you in a few years, though. If or when you ever decide to move out. It will perhaps be easier to tell you if you’re leaving anyway.”

Adrien’s frown deepened. “Now I’m concerned. You haven’t killed anyone, have you?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Gabriel’s eyebrows inched together almost imperceptibly…because he had. All the people killed when akuma destroyed buildings. All the people drowned when akuma put Paris underwater. The people frozen when Paris was encapsulated in ice. Adrien. Gabriel had killed Adrien so many times, it made him sick to even think about it.

Gabriel needed to buy Marinette some really high-end supplies in order to thank her for handing Gabriel his own behind and reviving his son so many times.

“Dad?” Adrien eyed him warily.

“No one is currently deceased by my doing,” Gabriel finally replied. “…Where were we?”

Adrien bit his lip, studying his father for a moment longer before shaking off the odd occurrence. “I was wondering…why did I never get in trouble for karaoke last week? I deliberately misled you and did something I knew you wouldn’t approve of.”

Gabriel took a deep breath and switched the cross of his legs. “That. Is a good question. By all rights, I should have grounded you and taken away privileges. The guidebooks recommend punishing you with the natural and logical consequences of your actions, so I was thinking I should say no the next few times you asked to do something to show you that when you’re dishonest with me, you lose my trust.”

“Sorry,” Adrien mumbled, casting his eyes downward.

“That makes two of us,” Gabriel sighed softly, his words painted with remorse. “I was disappointed that you felt the need to be dishonest with me. I know we’ve historically struggled with communication, but I thought we were doing better lately.”

“I really wanted to go,” Adrien whispered plaintively at his feet. “I was having a tough day at school. I gave eating in the lunchroom with Nino and Chloé and Sabrina another shot, and…it was pretty stressful, so, later, when Nino suggested karaoke with the gang…I really wanted to go,” Adrien repeated. “And you would have said no.”

“Of course I would have said no,” Gabriel sighed. “And I would have been wrong.”

Adrien cautiously looked up, a dozen questions in his gaze. “Really?”

Gabriel nodded. “You are aware that we monitor social media for mentions of you, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Apparently, Nathalie was informed not long after you arrived at the bar that you had been sighted there. She analyzed the situation and made the decision not to inform me until three quarters of the way into the night. I was exceedingly displeased, as I’m sure you can imagine; however, Nathalie interceded on your behalf. The feedback on social media was overwhelmingly positive. There was no dancing on tables or public displays of intoxication. The song choices, while full of sexual undertones were not explicitly or inappropriately sexual. You were behaving well, and you even sang well. No disgrace brought upon the company. No stain on your own reputation. Just…you being a normal teenager. It was almost as if you were a mature young adult who could be trusted to go out in public unsupervised. Nathalie showed me the videos and pictures, and I was proud of you.”

It took Adrien a minute to formulate an answer through his shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” Gabriel insisted, meeting his son’s gaze. “I was proud of how you could go out and have fun but still make responsible choices on behalf of yourself and the company. It reflects well on how Emilie and Nathalie raised you. I was proud that, even though you’ve been somewhat more restricted than your peers throughout your life, you didn’t take advantage of your newfound freedom and go wild as soon as you were able. And while I still am not comfortable with the idea of you going out to bars and such establishments, it’s good to know that I can trust you to go and beave in a manner befitting yourself and your family. I never would have known that if you had been completely honest about your plans.”

“So that’s why you didn’t say anything,” Adrien muttered in understanding.

Gabriel nodded. “I didn’t want to condone your dishonesty by praising you for your actions, but it would have been wrong to punish you for doing something that, as a technical adult, you had the technical right to do.”

“So…the party tonight?” Adrien inquired tentatively.

Gabriel pressed his lips into a thin line. “While you have proven that you can be trusted to comport yourself appropriately in an informal social setting…I still have my reservations about allowing you to attend this event. Is Miss Dupain-Cheng going to be there?”

Adrien winced. “Maybe? Chloé said she’d invited the whole year, so I assume Marinette was invited, but it’s not like I’ve been able to ask her about whether she’s going. I haven’t spoken with her since she called me a week ago, so…” Adrien gave a half-hearted shrug.

Gabriel’s frown deepened. “Well, which friends are you going to be spending the party with? I suspect Miss Bourgeois will be busy with her hostess duties and will not be able to spend the entire evening with you. How about Miss Raincomprix?”

Adrien’s shoulders rose up to meet his ears. “Sabrina doesn’t exactly…like me. She’ll be nice and hang out with me if we’re together with Chloé, but I doubt she’d spend time with me on her own.”

“Is there a reason she doesn’t like you?” Gabriel pried, wondering if there was anything he could do to fix it for his son. “Did you two have a fight?”

Adrien gradually shrank further. “So…Sabrina doesn’t like it when other people are around Chloé. She gets kind of jealous, so the fact that I’ve been friends with Chloé longer bothers her, and now that Chloé and I are spending time alone without Sabrina…”

Gabriel raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Does Miss Raincomprix not understand that it is possible to be friends with more than one person at a time?”

Adrien averted his gaze. “Okay, so…pretend that Sabrina is Chloé’s boyfriend and Chloé is spending all this time and being affectionate with another guy—me. Does that make the situation make more sense?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Does…Is…Is Miss Raincomprix Miss Bourgeois’s…boyfriend?”

Society nowadays disconcerted Gabriel at times. Emilie would have smacked him for being a homophobe, but Gabriel couldn’t help but feel that two women dating each other wasn’t quite right.

Adrien shook his head like a dog shaking off water. “Chloé isn’t interested in Sabrina like that. She likes guys…I think…and Ladybug…and maybe Kagami, if Elise is to be believed…but Chloé doesn’t like Sabrina, and I don’t even know that Sabrina actually has those kinds of feelings for Chloé either, but the situation between Sabrina and me is a similar kind of hostility.”

“I…see.” Gabriel did not, really. “So…is Miss Tsurugi going to be attending?”

Adrien kept averting his gaze. “Uh…Chloé invited her, even though she doesn’t go to our school, but Kagami’s mother said she couldn’t go.”

Gabriel nodded. “Was Miss O’Leary invited? I realize she is not a student at your school either, but I’ve noticed that you, Miss O’Leary, Miss Bourgeois, Miss Tsurugi, and Monsieur Lahiffe have been spending time together often as of late.”

Adrien nodded. “Elise was invited, but she already had plans with her dad’s family visiting from Ireland, so she’s not going to be able to make it.”

Gabriel’s brow scrunched. “Then…whom are you to be spending the evening with? Miss Césaire?”

Adrien grimaced. “She’s…probably going to be with Marinette if she’s there. I mean, I’m guessing Alya will be there because Nino is DJing, and Alya never misses one of his gigs, so if Marinette isn’t at the party I’ll hang out with Alya, but…”

“So…you’ll primarily be spending the party with Monsieur Lahiffe?” Gabriel tried to pin down the answer.

Adrien shrugged. “Nino will be busy working. Chloé is actually paying him to DJ, so he probably won’t have a lot of time to spend with me, but I can hang out near the DJ booth, and we can talk between songs.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to ask a question that had been buzzing in the back of his mind since he had seen photos of his son dancing with Nino Lahiffe a week and a half before…but Gabriel lost his nerve to ask.

“What?” Adrien’s brow creased. “What’s that face for?”

Gabriel opened and closed his mouth twice more before managing to form the words, “What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Monsieur Lahiffe?”

Adrien’s eyebrow arched. “Nino’s my best friend. Why?”

Gabriel’s eye twitched. “Well…he’s always been very protective of you…very vocal about how not a good parent I am…and I know he and Miss Césaire have been dating for some time, but…the videos of you two singing together…and the pictures of you dancing…it just…it looks a little…intimate, to put it delicately.”

“O-Oh.” Adrien blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You think? Um…Well…Nino’s just a friend, so…do friends not…act like that? Nino, Alya, Marinette, Chloé, Elise, and Wayem are all really affectionate, and those are the only close friends I’ve ever had besides Kagami, and I just thought she was different because of her Japanese upbringing, so…”

Gabriel bit his lip, wondering if his son was right. Gabriel hadn’t had many close relationships himself, and he wasn’t exactly familiar with how young people interacted. “Perhaps you’re right,” Gabriel conceded. “Perhaps that is how people of your generation express friendly affection, but to someone of my age, two young men hanging on each other like that is…”

“Is…this a problem?” Adrien inquired, voice shaking with nerves, a cold panic on his face.

Gabriel thought carefully before responding. “Not…necessarily…. Adrien…do you…are you…interested in men?”

Adrien choked, spluttering, “I mean… No?” He winced. “Not…like that. I know there are a bunch of different labels; I’m not sure which one applies to me, but while I do find men attractive from the waist up, I’m not interested in sleeping with guys, so…okay?”

“…Okay.” Gabriel nodded. “Thank you…for talking about that with me.”

“Sure.” Adrien shifted uncomfortably. “You’re welcome.”

“Adrien?” Gabriel called hesitantly.

Adrien cocked his head to the side.

“I would love you anyway,” Gabriel assured. “If you did…if you were… I would still love you,” Gabriel stressed, trying to get his point across even as he tripped over his words. “I just don’t think I could…accept…your boyfriend, if you were to have a boyfriend. The parenting guidebooks say that I cannot forbid you from dating men, but…I would very much like to forbid you from dating men.”

Adrien smiled sadly. “I don’t foresee this being a problem. There’s only one person I’m interested in dating, so…”

Gabriel swallowed hard. “R-Right. Okay…. Good.”

There was an awkward beat before Adrien took it upon himself to steer the conversation back to less treacherous waters. “So…party?”

“Right.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Adrien, I’m not so sure about this. Maybe if the party were on a stationary vessel or if more of your friend group were going to be present or if Miss O’Leary were there to supervise, but…I’m not sure that it’s a good idea for you to be trapped onboard with no way to escape as Adrien in case something happens that upsets you.”

“Please?” Adrien begged. “I’ll be fine. Plagg will be with me.”

“Kid, I’m always with you,” Plagg scoffed. “Fat lot of good it does most of the time. I’m not so sure about this party either.”

“Come on,” Adrien wheedled. “It’s probably going to be the last chance I have to hang out with all of my schoolmates before we go off our separate ways for university and life and everything. Even if it’s challenging and makes me a little anxious like eating down in the lunchroom, I still want to go.”

Gabriel reached up to run a hand through his hair. “I’m going to regret this,” he sighed.

Adrien brightened. “I can go?”

“You may go,” Gabriel groaned, taking off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. “But you call me if there’s any kind of issue at all. I’ll be up half the night working on this project anyway, so don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Dad! You rock!” Adrien cheered, bouncing to his feet.

Gabriel reluctantly stood. “I’m not so sure about that…. You know the rules?”

“No drinking to excess, no making out with anyone in public, always be courteous and polite,” Adrien listed. “behave in a way that reflects well on the company and the Agreste name, always act as if you’re on camera because you just might be…” Adrien cocked an eyebrow at his father. “Am I forgetting anything?”

Gabriel smiled wanly. “I think that will suffice for tonight. Please be safe, and please, please have a good time.”

“I’ll do my best,” Adrien assured, secretly delighting in the fact that his father had just said “please”—a previously unheard of word—three times in the same sentence. “You know, providing Chloé doesn’t get anyone akumatized.”

“She’s gotten better about that in recent years,” Gabriel remarked, walking with Adrien out into the foyer. Lila had been picking up the slack.

“Yeah, but she’s still got a higher body count than almost anyone, and all her usual victims will be in attendance, so…”

“Well, maybe you’ll get lucky and Papillon will stay quiet a little longer,” Gabriel offered.

Adrien hummed softly. “I wonder if he’s on an extended holiday or something…. Is it totally weird that I kind of miss him?” Adrien glanced hesitantly up at his father.

Gabriel winced. “What? Are you bored? There are dozens of much safer things to do than fighting supervillains. Don’t miss Papillon.”

Adrien shrugged, making for the staircase up to his room. “Thanks again, Dad!”

Gabriel watched his son go, praying this party wasn’t a mistake.

[skam-stories]

Perfectly Wrong | Part Three

Annnd part three is here! Thank you for enduring the long wait, my laptop broke and my hard drive was wiped when it was sent away to get fixed. So I had to replan everything when I got my laptop back. When I was rewriting this chapter I decided to up the ante to make up for the long wait.

I hope you enjoy this, let me know what you think!

If you want to read my other words, or the earlier parts of this series, here’s my masterlist.

Eleonora hated that she was overthinking this party.

What to wear, when to get there, how to greet him. She was driving herself insane.

Was she meant to dress innocently, flirtatiously, what? If she got there on time would she look too eager, if she got there fashionably late would she seem like she was trying too hard to be cool? Was she meant to hug him, was she meant to pretend they weren’t kind of-almost-friends now? She’d kissed him on the cheek last time she saw him, for God’s sake.

The only thing she knew for sure was that she wasn’t meant to be letting herself feel this way.

They were meant to be friends. Nothing more. God, she wasn’t even sure that Silvia would be okay with friendship.

She needed to talk to Silvia.

Actually, she needed to talk to Eva.

It was a good thing she was already about to leave her place for Eva’s. All the girls were getting ready there before they headed to Edoardo and Fede’s party.

God, she was going to be in Edoardo’s house.

She was going to be in the general vicinity of his bed.

Was that where he and Silvia had sex?

That was a bit of a mood killer.

Good. She needed that.

She’d already been in his house before, too, when he and Silvia had kissed. 

Suddenly her mood killer was working a little too well. She wasn’t sad for Silvia anymore, she was sad for herself. Why hadn’t Edoardo set his sights on her then? He’d wanted Silvia first, even if it wasn’t for long.

Eleonora sighed, staring into the depths of her closet. She was still unsure about what the hell she was supposed to wear.

Screw it. She wasn’t dressing for him. She’d wear whatever she wanted.

She rifled through her drawers, tugging out a pair of black shorts and a sleeveless grey turtleneck. 

There. Done.

She threw on a pair of shoes, grabbing her bag and walking out of her room.

She paused at her kitchen counter to write her parents a note telling them where she was going. Did she really even need to do this? Would they even care? She sighed, writing a brief explanation anyway before leaving.

The route to Eva’s house was a familiar one. Eva’s house felt more like home than her house did. 

Eleonora realised as she stood outside Eva’s house that she was way earlier than she’d intended. She sighed, wondering if she should kill some time somehow. She had no idea how she’d do that, though. With a sigh, she knocked on the door.

Paola opened the door, greeting Eleonora with a hug. 

“Ele, darling! How are you? Have you eaten?”

God, Eleonora loved Paola. 

“I’m good, same as usual. Yes, I’ve eaten. How have you been? How’s work?”

In no rush to get to Eva’s room, she chatted with Paola for a few more minutes. She wished she could talk to her mother like this.

She eventually made her way through the house to Eva’s room. She knocked once, announcing herself, before opening the door.

Eva looked at her with eyes like saucers, clothes scattered on the floor around her. “Thank god you’re here, I have no idea what to wear.”

Eleonora grinned. At least she wasn’t the only one. “Give me some options.”

Once she’d helped Eva pick out an outfit, they both lay down on her bed.

“So why are you so worried about your outfit?”

Eva turned her head to look at Eleonora, her cheek resting against her bedspread. Eleonora watched it turn red. “You know why. Don’t make me say it.”

Eleonora chuckled. “I think you should say it.”

Eva was suddenly very interested in her fingernails. 

“It’s a really bad way to start something off, right? Cheating?”

Eleonora frowned. Eva had a point. The thought had crossed her mind before.

“And I broke up with Gio to be alone, not be with someone else.”

Eleonora nodded. “I agree.”

Eva sighed. “He’ll just go find someone else.”

Eleonora frowned again. “Let him. You deserve someone who wants you, not someone else.”

There was a silence for a long moment.

Eva raised an eyebrow at her. “Why were you so eager to go to this party anyway?”

It was Eleonora’s turn to have her cheeks heat up. She shrugged, looking up at the ceiling.

Eva laughed. “Hmm.”

They were both silent for a long moment before Eva spoke again. “You know, I really hated Edoardo. Then I spent a few minutes with him. And he’s...nice?”

Eleonora hummed a reply. Eva didn’t know the half of it. 

Eleonora could feel Eva’s eyes on her. She spoke up before Eva could.

“So what’s going to happen with you and Fede?”

Eva sighed. “I don’t know. What’s going to happen with you and Edoardo?”

Eleonora groaned. She should’ve known Eva wouldn’t let her dodge the topic that easily. 

“Nothing.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t do that to Silvia.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, then Eva said “I think he really likes you”.

Eleonora sighed. “What if he doesn’t? What if he just wants another mark on the stupid wall? I’d be the stupidest girl yet, because I should know better. I saw what he did to Silvia.”

“I don’t know, he’s putting in a lot more effort than he seems to with other girls.”

Eleonora just shrugged. “We said we’d be friends.”

“Yeah, okay” Eva said in a tone that suggested she did not agree at all.

“I don’t know what to do about Silvia. I don’t want her to hate me.”

“Hey if she’ll hate you she’ll hate me too. I’m friends with Edoardo.”

Eleonora opened her mouth to protest, but then realised that’s exactly what Eva wanted her to do.

“Yeah, we’re both friends with him. Should we tell Silvia?”

“Yeah, we’ll talk to her when she gets here. Which should be soon.”

And that’s how Eleonora, Eva and Silvia ended up sitting awkwardly in silence at Eva’s dining table. Silvia had let slip to Paola that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and apparently that meant they all had to eat. Paola was making them food, enough for Fede and Sana too, since they’d be arriving at any minute.

Eleonora wished Silvia had more to say. Why was today the one day she ran out of new cat pictures?

Eva spoke first, and god Eleonora loved that girl. Part of her felt like she’d burst into flames just from speaking his name in front of Silvia. Her entire body felt hot just thinking about him in her presence. She felt like a sinner in church.

She remembered how her body had felt like it was burning in the homewares store. When she’d woken up in his arms. When he’d held her hand.

She was evil. She was going to hell.

“So, you know how Edoardo gave me a lift to school a while ago?”

Silvia just nodded. Eleonora felt like she might throw up.

“Well, I’ve kind of kept in touch with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, we talk a bit. Tag each other in Facebook posts.”

Silvia didn’t respond for a second, and Eleonora watched her with curiosity as she kept her face carefully composed. It seemed Silvia was keeping herself carefully composed, too.

“Are you dating him or something?”

Eva laughed. “No, no, no! Nothing like that. It just...we’re kind of friends? And I wanted to know if that’s okay?”

Eleonora had managed to avoid Silvia’s scrutiny so far this conversation, but suddenly she was trapped in her gaze.

“And you?”

“He asked me if we could be friends.” Eleonora conveniently left out the part where he’d made it clear he wanted more. Where it was clear she wanted more too.

She didn’t mean to keep talking, but for some reason she did. “But I don’t want to do anything that would hurt you, so if us being friends with him makes you uncomfortable...”

Silvia shook her head. “No, it’s fine. This is good, actually.”

Eleonora grinned. Oh thank god. She felt Eva’s eyes on her, so quickly tried to compose herself.

“Who knows, maybe Edoardo and I can be friends too. He apologised to me. Maybe I’ll talk to him tonight.”

Silvia’s words made Eleonora feel things. Like, get away from my man things. Which was completely ridiculous. 

“So we’re all cool with being friends with Edoardo?”

Silvia nodded, and much too late Eleonora did too.

They walked through Edoardo’s front door, and Eleonora could feel her heart beating in her throat. She needed to see a doctor. For so many reasons. 

Maybe she just needed a lobotomy. 

Maybe she should go join a convent. Go be with God.

The girls made their way into the kitchen to find cups, opening one of the bottles of wine they’d brought. Eleonora downed the contents of her cup much too fast, filling it up again but not taking a drink from it. If she was too drunk she might do something stupid. She needed to be just happy enough that she could deal with the awkwardness of being around all these people at once.

They migrated to the dance floor, Eleonora marvelling at how other people were so drunk already.

“There’s Edoardo!”

Eleonora turned and looked where Silvia was gesturing, experiencing tunnel vision for a second. It took her a second to notice that Fede stood behind him as well, part of a larger group of boys.

Edoardo looked good. He always did. 

He looked towards the dance floor and their eyes met, a grin spreading wide across his face.

“Let’s go say hi” Silvia said, already making her way towards him.

Eva tugged at Eleonora’s arm, making her follow them. Eleonora made sure to stay at the back of group, wanting to suss out the situation first. 

Edoardo pulled Eva into a hug as soon as she was close enough, and Eleonora felt her stomach flip with jealousy. But maybe that meant she could hug him too? God, she was acting like a lovesick lunatic. 

So what if he was decent company and looked like art come to life. She needed to pull herself together.

She watched as Eva turned to Federico, hugging him much more awkwardly then she had Edoardo.

Edoardo was talking to Fede and Sana, who had greeted him with a high five and handshake respectively, but kept looking to Eleonora. He started inching closer, but Silvia interrupted by stepping forward and pulling him into a hug. His eyes were on Eleonora, looking like he didn’t have a clue how to react. It was mildly amusing.

“Eva and Ele tell me we’re all friends now” Silvia said, pulling back from the hug. Edoardo tore his eyes away from Eleonora to look at Silvia.

“Um, yes” Edoardo responded, his hand flying to the back of his neck. Eleonora smirked.

“We’ll all have to hang out now” Silvia said, and Edoardo just nodded.

He broke away from her, making his way to Eleonora. He lifted his arms up to hug her just a beat too soon, and she grinned. 

He was overeager, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Her arms rested around his waist, trying not to be too enthusiastic about it.

“Hey Ele” he said softly in her ear, and she shivered involuntarily. There goes that plan. “I’ve missed you.”

She was screwed.

A few hours had passed, and the night had gone pretty much as Eleonora had expected. Silvia was nearing the stage of drunkenness that meant she’d have to go home soon, and Eva was currently in the corner sitting on Fede’s lap.

Eleonora had maintained a good level of tipsy so far, but her cup was empty and that was an issue. She left the dance floor, where she, Sana and Fede had been making glorious fools of themselves, and made her way to the kitchen.

It was surprisingly empty. Weren’t kitchens meant to be the heart of the home? Where people congregated and whatnot? Maybe that was just in movies.

She searched for the bottles of wine they’d brought along, wondering if the other girls had drunk more than she thought. She should probably check on Eva and Silvia.

Edoardo said her name from behind her, and she spun around much too fast. Friends don’t have such a violent reaction to their friend’s voice, she told herself.

“Hey, Edo.”

He grinned at her, and she didn’t think she’d done anything to warrant such joy but sure.

“Are you out of drinks?”

Eleonora frowned. “I think we must be.”

“I’ll make you something.”

She hoped he was going to make something seriously complicated. Something utterly time consuming. She hoped they’d be there all night.

She leant against the counter, watching him fetch ingredients. Unfortunately, he just seemed to be making her a something, lime and soda.

“How’s your night been so far?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, good. Enjoying playing host?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes down as he cut up a lime.  “I don’t know, sometimes being the host means you have to spend time with everybody when you’d rather...not.”

She looked down at her hands. That didn’t necessarily mean anything.

She opened her mouth to say something, looking up to find him much closer than he had been a second ago. He stepped forward even closer, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Um, I just need the vodka behind you.” 

She nodded, but didn’t move. He reached behind her, picking up the bottle. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and her mind flashed back to all the previous times they’d been this close. 

“How strong do you..”

Her fingertips grazed his chest, and he stopped mid-sentence. She didn’t know what she was doing.

His face was suddenly closer to hers, so close she could feel his breath fanning across her face. 

His nose brushed against hers, and she heard a thump behind her as he set the vodka down. The noise and the contact combined brought her back to her senses. She flattened her hand out on his chest, gently pushing him away. “Not here.”

He pulled away immediately. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

He picked up the bottle again, quickly finishing off her drink. He slid it across the counter towards her, seemingly trying to keep his distance. 

She felt like the awkwardness was suffocating her.

“I’ll...talk to you later then?”

He looked up, eyes locking with hers, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. He nodded slowly, and she wished this wasn’t so damn complicated.

She realised too late, as she was walking away with the drink in her hand and wondering if she’d just screwed up, that she hadn’t actually said he shouldn’t kiss her.

Silvia plopped down on the couch, leaning her head on Eleonora’s shoulder.

Eleonora had been sitting with Eva, but then Eva had gone off with Fede. Eleonora felt like maybe she should have tried harder to dissuade Eva, but whatever.

“Do you think that now we’re friends with Edoardo he might see me as more than a hookup?”

Eleonora froze, too many emotions flooding through her for her to decide on one reaction. “Uh, what?”

“I just, y’know, maybe if he starts seeing me as a friend it could eventually turn into that.”

"Or you could just be friends?” Eleonora knew her tone was a little harsh, and she knew why, but she was a whole lot of drinks deep and she just didn’t care. She was trying so hard to look after Silvia’s feelings, but honestly what Silvia had with Edoardo wasn’t that deep. She was fairly certain she’d spent more time with him than Silvia ever had. None of it was fair.

“Can you find out if he’s into anyone right now?”

Eleonora sighed. Part of her wanted to say ‘me, he’s into me’ but she didn’t really know that for sure. What did being ‘into’ someone entail? Did it mean he wanted to date her, sleep with her and ditch, what? “No, Silvia. I’m not doing that. I thought you wanted to be friends with him.”

Silvia groaned, staggering to her feet. “You’re no help.”

Eleonora pulled her back down onto the couch. “Come on, Sil.”

Silvia shook her head. “No, I need another drink.”

“No, you don’t.”

Silvia grunted in an unappreciative way, but sat still and rested her head on Eleonora’s shoulder again.

Eleonora gestured to Sana and Fede as they walked past, beckoning them closer. “When are you guys heading home?”

Sana looked at Silvia, looking mildy amused. “We were planning to leave any minute. Silvia, want a ride?”

Eleonora sighed, relieved. Next to her, Silvia started protesting. She almost laughed, but she was too busy feeling like there was ice in her veins as she replayed Silvia’s words from earlier.

Sana and Fede helped Silvia up, guiding her outside.

Eleonora leant back, resting her head against the couch and closing her eyes.

“Ele!” Her eyes shot open.

He was drunker than he had been before. She studied his face, from his rosy cheeks to his messier-than-ever hair.

“Come dance with me” he said too loudly, holding out his hand for her and moving his weight from one foot to the other.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she was drunker than before too, and it was just dancing.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as he led her to the dance floor.

“Wait, am I allowed to do this?”

She looked at him in surprise, not sure what he was talking about.

They were in the middle of the dance floor now, and he pulled her closer to him by her waist. Letting go of her for a moment, he lifted her arms up and rested them around his neck. He started swaying, making her move with him. Why were they swaying like this to a fast song? She remembered how he’d danced with Silvia. This was nothing like that. He’d danced with Silvia like he was ensnaring prey. There was no trace of that here. She didn’t understand.

He moved one hand to the small of her back, holding her to him while his other found its way to the back of her head and tangled in her hair. His nose brushed against her temple. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Part of her wondered if he was just using the dance floor as an excuse to hold her, but she brushed it off. Surely any second he’d try to take her up to his room.

“What do you want, Ele?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Edo.”

“Do you just not...” he sighed, pulling away to look at her.

She didn’t know what to say. “I have to go” she said, disentangling herself from him and turning to leave the dance floor. She darted out of the room, realising as she walked out his front door that she’d left her things inside. She had her card and her phone and that was it.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. Whatever.

“Ele, talk to me.”

She turned around to face him, digging her fingers into her arms.

“I can’t do this.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “What exactly?”

Eleonora sighed again, moving one hand up to rub the bridge of her nose. “Silvia thinks that now we’re all friends you’ll start looking at her as more than a one night stand” she blurted out with a groan.

Edoardo stepped closer to her, reaching out and putting his hands on her upper arms. She wanted to push him away, but she also wanted him to go back to holding her. She settled on doing nothing.

“Silvia knows nothing’s going to happen between us. She could probably use the wake up call.”

Eleonora glared at him, taking a step back and away from him. “What, are you just trying to use me to get rid of her?”

He gaped at her. “What?”

Eleonora groaned, running her fingers through her hair. “I don’t want to do this. This is too much. It’s too hard.”

He stepped forward, taking her face in his hands. “It’ll be okay.” 

There it was again. That feeling of her whole body being on fire. That wasn’t meant to be a good thing, but god it was. 

He was looking at her with such tenderness, and she was so damn tired. This whole thing was exhausting. It felt like no matter what she did, she was going to lose somehow. Just once, she wanted to get what she wanted.

She bit her lip, at war with herself.

“Please, Ele, talk to me. We can figure this out together” he was slurring his words slightly from the alcohol. It was cute.

She didn’t want to talk, she thought as she stepped forward and pulled his face down to hers by his collar. 

He made a sound in the back of his throat, and she thought it was a sound of protest but then he moved one hand from her face to her waist and held her firmly against him.

God, she wished they’d done this sooner.

She sighed and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss. She tangled the fingers of one hand into his hair. That stupid messy hair. 

She slid her other hand down his chest, moving it to the small of his back and pulling him tight against her.

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other. Eventually she needed air, pulling away from the kiss. He grinned down at her, and her face heated up under his gaze.

The heat burning through her from the kiss was sobering, and she realised what she’d done.

“I have to go home” she said. 

He nodded, still grinning. “We’re alright though?” He tucked her hair behind one ear, his thumb rubbing against her cheek.

“Yeah” she said, but she wasn’t sure.

[purrincess-chat]

Giftmas Day 5: Luna!

This giftmas is going out to @lalunaunita who I met through the BB. Luna is super sweet and supportive, and I encourage all of you to go and read her BB piece and show her some love! For Luna I have written some domestic Adrinette family fluff ft. the Agreste children being cute, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Read on AO3

Giftmas Day 5

Emma Agreste was a lot of things. A skilled fencer, a prima ballerina, gifted in musical arts and her academics, but the trait she wore with the most amount of pride was thoughtfully clever. Her parents were celebrating their 20th anniversary, and she, being the caring daughter that she was, had devised the ultimate plan to give them the best anniversary they’d ever experience. Now all she needed to do was execute it perfectly with the help of her two little brothers, and so far everything was going swimmingly.

“Are you kids sure you’re going to be alright tonight?” Her dad asked as he fastened his tie in the mirror in the foyer.

“Yes, papa. We’re not babies anymore; I think we will be okay for a few hours,” She said with an eye roll.

“How do I look?” He turned to her and held out his arms for approval, and a small smile curled on Emma’s lips.

“Perfect as always, and even if you weren’t I’m pretty sure Mom won’t care. Isn’t that a requirement after 20 years of marriage?” She teased, and Adrien flicked her nose playfully.

“I know, but it’s a special occasion, and I want everything to go perfectly. I had to call in this reservation months ago,” He said, fussing with his hair. “You only get one 20th anniversary, ya know, so I want it to be special.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Now hurry up and get out of here. You don’t want to keep Mom waiting at her office.” She gently turned him toward the door and gave him a nudge.

“Yeah, you’re right. The longer I leave her there, the more she’ll torture her assistant,” He said with a nod, allowing Emma to shove him to the door which she opened for him graciously. “I made you guys some dinner. It’s in the fridge if you get hungry. Oh, and make sure Louis takes his contacts out before bed and that Hugo does his homework and-”

“Dad, we’ll be fine!” She groaned, leaning her head back in exasperation.

“You’re right. Okay, I love you.” He leaned down to exchange kisses before being shoved out the door.

Emma leaned back against it with a sigh as Hugo and Louis poked their heads out of the kitchen. She held up a finger and peaked out through the front window to ensure that he wasn’t coming back for something before giving them a nod.

“It’s go time.”

“Did you cancel the dinner reservation?” Louis asked, cocking a brow as they began to move.

“Yep. Did that on my lunch break, so that gives us about an hour until they’ll be back home. Did you guys get the ingredients from the store?” She replied, and Hugo held up a bag with a grin.

“And the bread dough is already rising in the fridge,” He added with a proud beam.

“Awesome. Let’s get to work.”

x x x

Marinette was waiting for him outside her studio when Adrien arrived, and her countenance brightened when she saw him. For a moment, he lost himself in her warm gaze, stooping to touch his lips to hers for a brief, tender moment. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in with a contented sigh.

“How was work?” He asked opening his eyes to meet hers.

“Long, but I got a lot done,” She said, nuzzling her nose against his. “I’m ready for a romantic evening out with my favorite guy.”

“Well, you are in luck, m’lady because I have the purrfect date planned for us,” He said with that age-old boyish smirk of his, and she giggled, tugging his tie.

“We haven’t had our Miraculouses in years, and you still make cat puns every chance you get.”

“And mew wouldn’t have me any other way,” He chuckled as she linked her arm through his.

“Shall we?” She gestured onward.

“We shall.”

Marinette leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked, and Adrien recounted all of their happy moments. From the day they met when she crashed into him as Ladybug to the day they finally found out their identities, their very first kiss, the night he proposed, their wedding day. The day Marinette started fashion school. The first time they held Emma in their arms and then Louis and Hugo. 20 years seemed to have gone by in a flash, and he couldn’t help but feel like it had all just begun yesterday. The memory of their first akuma battle was just as fresh in his memory as the day it happened, and in a way he kind of missed the days of being young and fighting crime. But he wouldn’t trade their little family for the world which is why when the time came, they surrendered their Miraculouses to Master Fu to be passed on to the next Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Whatcha thinking about?” She asked, glancing up at him with a smile and snapping him out of his trance.

“Just reliving the past. It’s hard to believe it’s been 20 years since we said I do,” He said, shaking his head. “I’ve loved every minute of it.”

“Even all those times I made you massage my feet while I stuffed my face with croissants when I was pregnant?” She smirked, and he shifted to the side, dragging her with him and forcing her to stumble a little.

“And all the times I held your hair when you threw those croissants back up,” He chuckled, and she wrinkled her nose at him. “Because it was all worth it in the end.”

“Yeah.” She smiled softly, shifting her gaze down to their feet. “It was.”

“And here we are, Madame.” He gestured to the most prestigious restaurant in Paris with a grin.

“Did you confirm your reservation?” She cocked a brow, and he nodded in affirmation.

“Yep. Called this morning.” He said, leading her inside smoothly. “Agreste, table for two.”

The host at the counter skimmed through his tablet for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, but we do not have that name on our list.”

“You- What?” Adrien stopped short. “No, no, no, I confirmed it this morning.”

“And then your wife canceled at lunch. You did not discuss this with her?” He glanced between them, and Adrien turned to her with a puzzled frown.

“You canceled it?”

“No! You can ask Maurice. He’s been with me all day trying to get things ready for the show in three weeks.” She shook her head. “There must be some kind of mistake.”

“Well, I am terribly sorry. There is nothing we can do, all of our tables are full.” Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh.

“Okay. Thank you,” He said with a nod, pressing his lips into a firm line as they maneuvered past the other couples back outside. “I don’t understand how this happened. I’m so sorry, lovebug.”

“It’s okay,” She soothed, smoothing his shirt. “It wouldn’t be us if something didn’t happen, right?”

“I guess,” He mumbled. “I just wanted tonight to be perfect, and I don’t know who called to cancel. I’m sorry our anniversary got ruined.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t say that. Just because I’m a big name in the fashion business now, and we live in a nice house doesn’t mean I need a flashy life. You know me. I’m simple, and I will be just as content with a quiet night in snuggled up on the couch as I would be in a fancy restaurant.” She gave him a reassuring smile, and he pursed his lips.

“I know, but we don’t get to go out much anymore because it’s always fashion shows or fencing tournaments or stomach viruses or Hugo setting the oven on fire,” He said, listing each thing on his fingers. “I was looking forward to a night out.”

“Well, we can call and make reservations somewhere else for this weekend. Let’s just go home. We can put on a movie and send the kids to bed then split that bottle of pinot in the pantry,” She suggested, resting her chin on his chest and rubbing his back.

“Okay.” He said with a disappointed frown, and Marinette stretched up to kiss him lovingly, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before they set off home.

x x x

“Loulou! They’ll be home any minute,” Emma called up the stairs while Louis carefully combed his hair and straightened his bowtie.

“Coming!” He answered, hurrying up the hall and down the stairs as Hugo tossed him a towel to drape over his arm while Emma tuned her violin. “Dinner’s ready?”

“Yep.” Hugo nodded, giving a thumbs up with a toothy grin as he scattered rose petals in a path to the dining room.

“We pulled it off! I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they come in,” Emma squealed excitedly as a key grinded against the lock. “Oh, they’re here! Places!”

“I think we have some ice cream in the freezer too,” Marinette was saying as they entered the dimly lit foyer, and Emma began to play a soft melody on her violin.

“What’s all this?” Adrien asked slowly, glancing between each of them, the rose petals, the lights wrapped around the banister, and cocking a brow.

“A special anniversary surprise,” Louis whispered with a wink. “If the loving couple would kindly follow me to their table.”

“Oh, don’t mind if we do,” Marinette giggled, hooking her arm back through her husband’s with a pleased grin.

A small smile curled on Adrien’s lips as their oldest son led them into the dining room where the table was set with a single rose in a small vase and a small tea light candle floating in a tiny fish bowl. Marinette cupped her hands over her heart in delight as Louis pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit, moving around to do the same for his father. She picked up the small “menu” and flipped it open, biting back an amused smirk when a single wine, entrée, and dessert were listed inside.

“Your server will be right with you,” Louis said politely with a bow before calmly heading back into the kitchen as Hugo came out with one of his wide grins.

“Might I interest the happy couple in a bottle of our finest wine,” He offered, presenting a fancy bottle Marinette knew didn’t come from the cabinet.

“And where from did this fine establishment come to own such a wine?” She cocked a mom-brow, and Hugo continued without missing a beat.

“From the most prestigious and kind-hearted suppliers who we like to refer to here at Palace du Agreste as: grandma and grandpa,” He replied smoothly, prompting chuckles from his parents.

“Then I would love a glass,” Adrien said, and Hugo promptly poured some in each of their glasses. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“My pleasure.” He nodded. “Are you ready to order?”

“Hmm, there’s just so many choices,” Marinette sighed dramatically. “What would our waiter recommend?”

“I happen to be very close to our chef, and I must say that the fish is his specialty. Very delicious.”

“Well, you drive a hard bargain. I’ll take an order of your finest fish,” She said decidedly.

“Excellent choice, and for the gentleman?”

“Same for me,” Adrien replied, and Hugo bowed politely.

“We will have that out right away for you.” He took the menus and retreated back to the kitchen.

“Well, I guess we figured out who canceled our dinner reservations,” Marinette remarked, swirling her wine a little before taking a sip.

“So we have.” Adrien nodded with a laugh. “And here I thought Emma was rushing me out of the house so they could lay around and eat junk food all night.”

“I like this a lot more than a real restaurant,” She said when Hugo returned moments later with two plates. “Fast service and our waiter is so handsome. I just want to pinch his cheeks.”

“We are an esteemed and professional business here, and as such, we only allow a single cheek pinch,” He stated, holding up a finger matter-of-factly.

“How about a cheek kiss?”

“Oh, we accept as many of those as our kind customers will give.” He smiled, leaning down and giggling as Marinette peppered his face with squeaky kisses.

“Your recommendation was well advised. Please give our compliments to the chef,” She said once she was finished, and Hugo regained his composure.

“I’m sure he will be happy to hear it.” He bowed once more before backing up into the kitchen and shutting the door as Louis reappeared from the foyer.

“For your listening pleasure tonight, we have called in our best pianist who will grace us with selections from Chopin and Liszt,” He announced as Emma strolled in and took her place at the piano.

“No wonder she’s been practicing so much lately,” Adrien said as she began to play, and they turned back to their meal.

“I think it’s all very sweet. We’re lucky to have such thoughtful kids,” Marinette hummed.

“Yeah. We really are.” He smiled proudly at the girl trailing her fingers expertly over the keys.

Once the main course was finished, Hugo appeared to clear their plates dutifully before bringing out dessert. “Our house specialty the chocolate religieuse.”

“And beautifully presented,” Marinette complimented the delicate pastry, and Hugo beamed proudly.

“Our chef has been practicing his presentation and appreciates your noticing.” She pinched his cheek with a warm smile before taking a bite as he retired once more to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna need to start doing crunches if Hugo’s desserts always taste this good,” Adrien commented with a delighted moan.

“I may join you because I still haven’t worked off all of his baby fat. After I worked off Louis, I got really lazy,” She chuckled. “All those choquettes really did a number on me, and Hugo still loves them to this day.”

“Like father like son.” Adrien shrugged with a smirk, offering her the last bite with his spoon. “But I still think you’re beautiful.”

“Well, that is a relief because you married me,” She teased, placing her hand in his and allowing him to lift it to his lips.

“And 20 years later you still give me butterflies when you look at me,” He murmured against her skin.

“Ahem.” They turned to see Hugo standing with a tiny black card. “Your check.”

Marinette accepted it graciously, flipping it open to see a white piece of paper taped to the inside totaling up their meal for a whopping cost of one hug and a kiss for each of the staff. Louis and Emma approached the table, clasping their hands together with expectant smiles.

“That’s a steep price, but I think we can afford it,” She said, standing up and pulling Hugo into her arms first. “The food was delicious, sweetie, and you’ve really improved your dessert decorating. Thank you for being such a good server.”

“Thanks, Mama,” He said, squeezing her tightly as she planted a kiss on his cheek then passed him to Adrien.

“Loulou, you were an excellent host,” She complimented, crushing him to her chest and leaning her head against his. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mom. Happy Anniversary.”

Emma stepped forward, stretching out her arms as Marinette released her hold on Louis, and her mother embraced her with equal crushing force.

“You are so talented, Button. You played beautifully tonight. Papa and I are very proud,” She cooed, stroking her hair.

“Thank you, Mommy. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“And you did an excellent job,” Adrien chimed in, wrapping an arm around his wife and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, all of you are so thoughtful, and we really appreciate it.”

“Well, we do have one last surprise for you two tonight,” Louis said, gesturing back to the foyer. “If you would accompany me to the living room.”

Marinette took Adrien’s arm once more as they followed him across the foyer to the cozy living room where Louis tapped play on his tablet screen and a familiar melody began to play over the speakers.

“The first song we ever danced to,” She sighed reminiscently.

“We loaded Louis’ library up with all of your favorite, ancient songs,” Emma said, smiling impishly when she warranted glares from her parents. “And we want you two to relax while we clean up and then we will go to our rooms early so you can enjoy your evening without being constantly interrupted.”

“Happy Anniversary,” Hugo whispered as they backed out of the room and pulled the doors shut, leaving their parents alone.

“I think the most impressive gift they’ve given us tonight is doing the dishes willingly,” Adrien remarked with a snicker that Marinette echoed before he sobered and offered her a hand. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

“Yes, you may.” She placed her hand in his, allowing him to position it on his shoulder as he took her other hand, and she laid her head against his chest, swaying in time with the music.

“It’s been so long since we’ve danced like this. I’ve missed it,” He breathed against her hair.

“Maybe we can convince them to go to bed early more often,” She chuckled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence simply enjoying each other’s presence as the song progressed, Adrien occasionally pressing soft kisses against her temple. After the song ended, Marinette leaned up, and Adrien caressed her cheek, leaning down to meet her lips softly. They lingered, savoring that sweet moment for longer than they were usually allowed and imprinting their affection into the other’s flesh.

“Happy 20th Anniversary, Marinette,” He said against her lips after they pulled away, holding her tightly.

Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching up on her tip-toes to touch her nose to his with a smile.

“And here’s to 20 more.”

[rayman-25]

Xenologist 1 The arrival of twin brothers Pines

sonGravity Falls presents

Xenologist 1 The arrival of twin brothers Pines

It's D-Day and Parent Pines can not wait to get their kids back after a three-month vacation in Gravity Falls.

"So, how long do you have to wait? John asked.

"Well, according to the driver, wait 3 hours," says Mrs. Pines

"What !? John shouted "three o'clock ?! But it will take too much time! "

Do not worry, "says Bart" they'll be here I'm sure "

Jeff meanwhile, brought cans of soda.

"The children will not be there at one point Kumiko. I brought some cans of fruit juice. Use it if you want! "

"Thanks, comic book seller," said Bart.

"There is no grape juice too? Asked Milhouse.

The children take soda cans and went to sit on the bench

"I can not wait for my children to arrive with some memory," says Ms. Pines.

"I can not wait to meet them. Who knows, maybe next summer I'm going to gravity falls with them, "says Irving.

But as the others wait, April runs in front of them.

"Oh, hold on, hello, April. Do you want to wait until the children arrive? Irving asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry for the delay, because today I have a training with the father of my four ninja friends," says April.

Mrs. Pines intervenes "You can ask them to come here if you want, April"

"Sorry they are still resting, but I can warn them after they meet," April said.

"Do you mean they do not want to meet the children of Mrs. and Mrs. Pines? Nelson asked.

"No it's not that, it's just, that will go wrong if he meets you. Even the children of Mrs and Mrs Pines. "

Takeda approached April "Said doc, April. You hide something! "

I, do not hide anything at all what are you talking about? April asked.

"It's ok, Takeda will leave her alone someday, she'll introduce her four martial arts friends," says Cassie.

But Takeda asked a question about the existence of April's four strange friends "tell me, April. What do your ninja friends look like? "

"Sorry I can not tell their appearance. But I can tell you their ages he is 15 years old, "says April

Suddenly Peach stepped towards them and said, "That's enough, Takeda! You see she is a little nervous for her friends ninjas. Well yes it's true that we do not know their appearance or where he lives. If it is, their father certainly punished them for meeting the children of Mrs. and Mrs. Pines "

Takeda went back to see John and the others, but she looked at April again and walked towards the teenagers.

2 hours 55 minutes later, Mrs., Mrs. Pines the children, Jeff, Kumiko, Peach, Mario, Luigi and the two dinosaurs waited for the bus to arrive. Jean and the other teens "except Nelson and Marc" were chatting for ninjas friends April.

"Do you think April's friends came of the Outworld ? Takeda asked.

"No, if it is, they come to a forest or worse in a planet," said John.

"Um, you had forgotten something about Takeda," says Patrick

"Forgot what? "

Their name ! "

"Oh shit I completely zapped their name. Listen, I'll see this tomorrow morning with April "

Bart went to April "tell me, April I can ask you questions"

"What do you want to ask? "

"Why do not you want to introduce your ninja friends? "

"Because they have trouble accepting them as they are. It's my master he told them, "April said.

"Maybe I'll have to introduce myself"

April breathes a little and looks at Bart "Ok you can come with me, but on one condition, do not talk to people nor your sister, nor to your family and you are friends understood"

Bart shook his head and went back to see his friends

"If you want my opinion, Peach. Maybe his friends are Bowser spies for kidnapping you, do not you think? Luigi asked.

"I have no idea, maybe that's homeless," says Peach

Cassie aside did not agree "Do you want to tell them their name? But if she does not want to. I mean, if she did not agree ... "

Suddenly, Takeda had felt something in his head "it's good the three hours are up. The bus should not be long in arriving »

All got up to go to the stop and wait for the children to arrive. But he has not arrived yet. "I mean, it's going to come here in five, four, three, two, one"

They heard the sound of a bus. The coach stopped and the door opened a little boy with a log cap wearing a dark blue v-neck, a storm t-shirt, gray pants and black sneakers off the bus.

"Wow, he's cute," Cassie thought.

"He thought of my brother," John thought.

"So, it's him. Dipper Pines.

"Hi mom, hello dad," said Dipper and he looked at the others "um mom, dad, who are these people? "

"Well them ... how did you explain that," his father said.

Irving ran past him "Hi Dipper Pines, I'm Irving Du Bois. I present you my brother Albert and my mother "

"Nice to meet you" Dipper, walk to the others "Hi, I'm Dipper Pines and you"

Bart introduced himself "I'm Bart Simpson. And here are my friends Milhouse, Nelson, my sister Lisa, Jessica, and my ex boyfriend Martin »

"I Jeff Albertson, but you can call me a comic book guy," Jeff said, too. "Uh, yeah, no, Jeff, that's fine," said Dipper.

"And she's my fiancee Kumiko Nakamura"

Dipper looked at John and walked in front of him "Hi me it's Dipper Pines and you are"

"John Jaque Christivoirien, but you can call me John any course. He is my brother Mark, Alice my gilrfriend, Moketo, Squeezie and Thomas Kirbendoworld. And the girl you see next to my brother is April O'Neill »

“Tell me, Mrs. Pines, are you sure he is the twin brother of the Pines family? Bob asked.

"Yes, there is our daughter too. By the way, Dipper!” Shouted Mrs. Pines.

"Yes, mom," says Dipper

“Why is your sister not in the bus? "

“Oh yes, it's true! Mabel, you just got off the bus! " “I get Dipper just two seconds” Dipper's sister shouted.

"12 seconds," Takeda said.

“And you are ?” Dipper asked, looking at Takeda.

"Nice to meet you Dipper Pines, I'm Takashi Takeda and she's Cassandra Cage. But you want, you can call her Cassie, "he said.

Suddenly, a little girl gets off the bus. She had a bruising pink shirt with a star and a rainbow, a skirt, a light purple and a black heel

"Hello mom, hello dad. Oh, I see you brought some company from somewhere else, too, "said the little girl.

She came in from the bus and out a cute little pig

"Mom, dad, this is Waddles. It's a pig I won at the fair, "she says.

So you are Mabel, "Bob said.

The parents looked at the little pig and looked at each other. Parents do not like this idea for the little pig in the house. Alice, meanwhile, looked at the little pig "oh he's so cute"

"Honey, I'm sorry, but we can not keep him here, that little pig," his mother said.

"But mom, Uncle Stan told me he can not stand this pig anymore three months ago. He is like a companion animal

"Uncle Stan? "

"Yes that's right, dad"

"We come home for a family discussion," said the father.

But John intervenes, "said Monsieur and Madame Pines. If you want, I can come with you to your house. "The parents agreed and he felt all six go to the Pines House for a discussion.

Arrived at home, they entered the house. Dipper and Mabel's parents telephoned Dipper's uncle. After thirty minutes, Dipper's mother came out of the living room and said to her daughter, "My children, we're talking to your dad and it's said that Waddles is not a pet and he certainly does not want to keep him in the House ! "

"But mom, Uncle Stan let me bring that little pig home. He told me he had to live with me, so you and dad too, "Mabel said sadly." I do not want to say goodbye. Waddles is the best pet I have ever had! And there is no problem! "

"It's true mom, Waddles was a great pet for Mabel," Dipper informed as he approached his sister "even Uncle Stan and Ford love Waddles "

"There she scores a point," said John.

" Oh that's right?” Mrs. Pines asked. She thinks and she looks at her daughter

"very well, I guess you can keep it"

"YAY! thank you mom!” Mabel says, crying.

"I guess it's a little cute if it makes you happy then," Alice said next to the door with April, Cassie and Marc.

"But now, do you have a choice to make in which room do you want to sleep Dipper or Mabel?" Asked Ms. Pines

Mabel took Dandinou to her room, while Dipper asked Jean about them. "So, I wonder if you want to go to Piedmont Park with a thirteen year old boy like that? "

"If you want," John said.

"Children tonight, I'm going to order pizzas," says Mrs. Pines.

While the Pines family and the others watched the Miraculous series, John asked Dipper "So, unlike Gravity Falls, you really have no friends here"

"No, I did not have any real friends ... my only friend is my sister and my cat because she protected me from imitators," Dipper explained.

" But do not worry. One day when the other or if there's a newcomer to your school, you'll make friends, "said John." I mean you're going to make friends there like Bart, my brother, Bob, Milhouse, Irving and Nelson. . Me on the other hand, I have friends especially April! Except she says she has friends Ninjas! Four weird ninjas friends who protect people from aggressors "

"Ninjas in Piedmont? "

"I'll explain to you later. But let's talk about you, Dipper. Why do not you have friends here? "

"A few years ago in my school, it was Valentine's Day in the 4th year and when I got nothing, the others still laughed. I had a difficult childhood. Mabel, wrote me a letter "for my favorite brother" I smiled a little "

"I was like you! Jean said without looking at Dipper "When I was eight, I did not have Valentine the others laughed at me. But Alice and my old friends looked at me with a worried look! But Alice had written to me, "I ❤ Jean" and I returned her card "You'll always be my best friend" that's where I realized that Alice loved me "

" Oh ! Dipper smiled, "that's why you love Alice! "

"The children, Porchop, Waddles " says Dipper's father "you can leave us 5 minutes"

"It's about Waddles? Marc asked

"It's about my job"

John and the others left the dining room and went to Dipper and Mabel's room.

"I have bad news for you," their father says.

Behind the door, John listened to the Pines family's conversations.

" What is it ? Mrs. Pines asked.

"My job informed me that I have to work in San Francisco for some time I should be back at Christmas"

"But we just got together" Said with a sad face.

"I know that the weather is hard, we have to earn money to take care of ourselves too. So, I have to work more! Mrs. Pines said, "I'm leaving early in the morning"

"Okay, kids, it's time to go to bed! You have a back to school do not you? Their mother asked.

John, meanwhile, took his pizza and went back to Thomas.

" What is happening ? Marc asked. But I did not say anything and left the house of Pines Without saying a word

Arrival at Thomas Peach asked Jean how it is to spend his day.

" It went well. If you want anything, I'll be in my room to play Metal Gear Solid V "

Meanwhile, in the house of the Pines, Dipper explained to Dandinou, Porkchop and the others a very bad news.

First my parents and now Dipper's father, "thought Cassie.

"It did not happen, Dipper. Said Marc "Ok you know what, we'll talk about that tomorrow morning after class"

Alice and Cassie returned to Peach's house, while Marc went back to Jeff's house. But April looked at Dipper and went back home

End of the first Xenologist

Notes from the author:

This fanfic takes place three after the prologue and the last episode of the season 2 of the memories of Gravity Falls.

It's possible that the parents looked like that thanks to TuquoiseGirl36 for drawing Dipper's parents

This fanfic is based on episode 57 of Dragon Ball z Kai and the Fanfic of Mattcraft22

This fanfic was the first meeting of Dipper and Mabel.

He's kind of sad and funny

Next week, the second part of Xenologist

[sudsybear]

Mark

Eventually that fall, I hooked up with Mark. He and I attended art class together. As a senior, I wanted an easy course. The department had a great reputation so I signed up. I was one of a few upperclassmen in with a bunch of sophomores and juniors.

 Mark has incredible drawing talent. He doesn’t use it much anymore, but he retains a wonderful artistic eye. It takes him forever to complete a project. As we were in the art classroom finishing up our projects to make our deadlines, we chatted. I flirted shamelessly, and got him hooked. He was mine.

 Mark was still growing into himself when we dated. He may have grown an inch or two during our time together – he stopped growing when he reached 5’10”. He has a slender build, topped with dirty blonde hair and at age sixteen, was already showing signs of premature balding. He suffers that Northern European receding hairline that so many men have. Put that high forehead with a long straight aquiline nose, full lips, and a receding chin, and that’s Mark.

 He is an only child. As a young woman, his mother married a man twice her age. And consequently Mark’s father died when he was quite young. When I knew Mark, he was very protective of his mother. She tried to date, but he was having none of it. “Putz” was his word. Reminded me of David a bit. (Will some psychologist please explain about teenage boys and their mothers? What is it that prevents them from letting their mothers have social and personal lives? Is it hormonal, Oedipal, what?)  A loner, Mark does his own thing, and yet has a quiet fascination with the social interaction of his peers. Standing quietly in a hallway, he acutely observes and absorbs everything going on around him. He works hard to maintain his independent identity, and yet nurses a private insecurity, a longing to be part of the “in” crowd.

 He didn’t have his driver’s license, or a car to drive even if he did, so I drove everywhere. Mark remembers riding in the Pinto. Stopped at the red light at the corner of my street and the main street through town (The one red light in the eight hundred yards between the high school parking lot and my house.)  Wish you were here was in the tape player. He thought it was so cool that a girl knew (and liked!) Pink Floyd. That’s it. That’s the memory. A nice one don’t you think? And provides a great transition as well. No longer with David, I took up with Mark. No longer driving the Buick, I traded a ragtop for a tape player. I still liked to drive, even a Pinto. And I took something of my own away from David and Christopher. I actually enjoyed a little Floyd.

 Mark was a year behind me in school, and best friends with Scott (Ross’ younger brother). So, through Mark, I got to know Scott a little better. Ross had mentioned Scott in one of his previous letters, but it took six months from the time Ross first mentioned him before I actually spent any time with Scott. But even then, it wasn’t Scott I spent time with, it was Mark.

 We didn’t have any money to spend (babysitting money only went so far – filling up gas tanks, and buying fast food) so we made our own fun. Mark and I played board games together, Scrabble mostly. We sat on the floor of my parent’s living room with the board between us, and battled. We picked letters and created words. I don’t remember who won or even if we ever finished a game. We may have gotten tired of playing and just poured the tiles back in the box.

 I was a Scrabble fiend that winter. I was in a mood for battles of letters and words. I lobbied hard to convince the Corral Board to put on a Saturday night game night: Scrabble, Monopoly, penny poker, but no one else rallied with me. I was bored with the live bands and DJ’s at Corral, I had been there, done that, and was tired of jumping around the dance floor. Even so, my friends were all dancing, so I packed up the Scrabble box and drove to the Civic Center to play. Mark and I got a game going, friends surrounded us, kibitzing and soon the room was split between the dancers and the band in the front of the hall near the stage, and the Scrabble game going on in the back of the hall. Exclaims of “Good Word” were shouted over the drum set. Mark and I reveled in the attention.

 Mark and I talked. He didn’t own a computer and we practiced the fine but fading art of personal conversation. While he was a loner, that didn’t mean he lacked opinions, or interesting things to say. His observations provided a perspective I hadn’t considered in my young life. Of course we listened to music – Mark likes stuff with a harder edge. For whatever reasons he’s angrier than other people I have known. Dead Kennedy’s, Adam and the Ants, The Kinks, The Clash, Sex Pistols. Some I like, some I don’t. It’s fun to listen and learn. After school, while his mom was at work, we sat on the floor of his room and listened.

 One evening Mark was over at our house for dinner – or stopped by shortly after – and while I sat at the dining room table, Mom cleared some dishes and got coffee for Dad. We asked about dessert, and somehow the conversation turned to chocolate chips. The next thing I know, we’re sitting around the table – all of us, Mom, Dad, Mark and myself – balancing chocolate chips on the end of our noses trying to then catch them in our mouth. We got the giggles – I think Dad was the only one who could master the task. My nose is too pug to be able to get the necessary angle.

 Another afternoon we decided not to play Scrabble, but to try Trivial Pursuit instead. We started the game and were playing when Dad arrived home from work. After changing clothes, he walked into the living room to visit and watch what was going on. Dad started feeding me answers…I picked the most obscure category – Entertainment most likely (Despite the fact that I love movies, I cannot retain names. So knowing who starred in what movie, or which song made the top ten in 1958 was well beyond my ken.) I impressed the hell out of Mark. We kept playing, and he kept giving me these looks like, “How in hell did you know that?” Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing. Poor guy.

 Mark was not David. While David and I were occasionally public with our displays of affection, Mark and I were quite private. Most never knew we dated. Quietly, discreetly with music playing in the background, some afternoons teen passion got the better of us and we explored each others’ bodies. Shy and nervous with each other, our unfamiliarity desperately wanted to become familiar. We reached for each other, kissing tenderly.

 He was brave and trusting enough one afternoon to let me cut his hair. Sitting on a chair in his mother’s yellow kitchen, he wrapped a towel around his shoulders and let me dampen his head and run a comb through his hair. Then slowly and more than a little anxious, I snipped away at his locks, trimming them to the best of my untrained ability. We laughed and talked through our nervousness, and the experience turned sensual. I was his first girlfriend, his first kiss, and I didn’t realize until much later what a responsibility that is.

 *          *          *

 My brothers were home for Christmas that year – a now rare event to have all of us in one place for a holiday. Jack had been away for eight years. Tom and his wife lived in Oregon - he’d been gone for six years. My grandmother (we called her Mommer) was over for dinner with the whole family and the phone rang. Mother answered it, “Hello? Oh, just a moment. It’s for you Susan.”

 “Hello?”

 “Hi! I was wondering if you’d want to go see a movie tonight. Dune.”

 “Well, I’ve got family here, visiting. Let me check with my Mom and Dad. Hold on.”

 “Mom, Dad, is it all right if I go to a movie tonight? Dune.”

 “Sure, if you want to.”

 “Okay. What time? Who’s driving? You’ll pick me up? Great. See you then.” Click. Pause.

 Uh oh. Panic. Now what do I do?

 Confess.

 To my parents:  “I just did a silly thing. I have no idea who I’m going with. I have no idea who I was speaking to on the phone. I think it’s Victor, but I’m not sure. What do I do?”

 We discussed the predicament (added an interesting twist to the conversation anyway) and decided that should he call back, Mother would ask, “Who is calling?” before turning the phone over. Second choice was to investigate who would be coming to the door before I was ready.

 Turns out I was right. It was Victor, and his brothers Igor and Alex and their neighbor Matt. We all piled in the “Grenade” to see Dune. Fun movie. But why was I the only girl? Could it be those letters I wrote to Victor while he was at boot camp?

 I was still firmly entrenched in “the group” despite the falling out with David and others. Victor’s overture of friendship brought me back into the fold. It helped that Mark and Scott had friendships with Igor.

 Victor and Igor hosted a New Year’s Eve party. Upstairs in the living room, dining room and kitchen, the adults had their revelry with wine and cheese, and fancy hors d’ouevres. While the adults were tipsy upstairs, the teens were in the basement with our own loud music. Igor liked David Bowie, Victor played ELP, and of course the other 80s pop standards. Competing with the party upstairs, we had our own fun. Somebody mixed “reveler’s rot” a punch of Everclear mixed with whatever fruit juice was around – most often Welch’s with fruit slices thrown in for effect. A ghastly grape flavor that night, it was our illicit means of intoxication.

 Julie and I decided to get drunk. In all of our seventeen years we’d never had the experience, and decided it was about time. Teen Counseling pledge be damned. She and I gingerly stepped into the storage room where the punch was hidden and filled our Dixie cups. We tasted the concoction, grimaced, and tossed it back our throats. We drank 2-3 cupsful – who remembers exactly?

 I drank until the room started spinning and stopped. I got silly, and started dancing, then my bladder kicked in and I had to pee. (That’s how I remember that the lone john in the basement had nothing but a curtain in front of it. I had to pee a lot, and felt like I was on display every time I did.) As my curfew time approached, Victor took me up to his dad’s office so I could call home. Sitting on Victor’s lap, it took me several tries to punch in the numbers. Dad answered the phone. I told him I was having a lot of fun and asked to stay later. The guys sobered me up and I was able to drive the half-mile home by 2 a.m. or so. Overall, it was a most pleasant evening – my first drunk in the midst of friends who loved and respected me for who I was, lumps and all.

 Poor Julie got too much for her system and started vomiting. Her parents came and picked her up early. I don’t even remember her leaving the party. I learned about that later.

. The P���