#he really said stop honking with the fondest smile on his face

[leclercsbf]

just carlos vying for his boyfriend’s attention.

[thank-you-pete-archive]

So, i wrote some Spideypool, if anyone wants to read it???

Warnings: language, kinda sexual content??(nothing explicit, just Deadpool making his pick-up lines)

------

Peter sighed; His heart was pounding in his chest as he took the last step up the side of the building. The broad figure of his friend sat there, humming a song Peter had never heard before, and scribbling on a paper. The brunet’s hand clenched as he opened his mouth.

“Hey,” his voice shook a bit, but he pushed down the fear. “Wade!”

The figure’s head whipped around as he ripped off his mask. Underneath was a bright smile, but it faded into something different. Peter wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. Wade stood up with wonder glinting in his eyes. They walked closer to each other.

Peter had not been the fondest of Wade when they had started working together. He killed people, for god's sake! He made snarky comments, and had no filter. Some of his first words to Peter in a regular conversation was, “hey, babe, just wanna let you know that ass looks nice in that suit, but i bet it looks better out.” And more stuff like that still came his way today, such as, “fuck, you ever get that one urge to just fuck the closest person to you? Like, i get it EVERY TIME I'm next to you, and i don’t know why!” But it never got physical, which was commendable.

Sexuality wasn’t the problem with those comments, it was the profanity. Deadpool is a very R-rated character, whereas Peter tried to keep himself and Spider-Man as PG-13 as he could.

Though Wade might not be the best with words or looks, being scared all over his body, his actions were all Peter needed to know that he was a good person. When they first met, Wade wouldn’t have hesitated to pull the trigger on anyone. Nowadays his first resort wasn't the guns. He made an effort to not kill as many people. He was more apologetic, and showed his soft side more often. He was loyal and trusting, taking off his mask and revealing his identity just a couple days after they had met. He promised to never look under Peter’s mask and protect his identity from being discovered, even though he didn’t even know it.

Wade smiled and leaped forward to hug Peter. “AAAAAHHHHHH!” His scream shook Peter to his core. “You! Wha-i don’t! Webs! You’re beautiful!”

Peter dropped the mask that was in his hand to the ground. “Sorry, where are my manners. My names Peter. Peter parker-”

“DUH I KNOW THAT!” Wade yelped. “Dude! I-i can’t believe you’re Spider-Man! Peter Park-OH MAN! FUCK! I’ve been saying pick up lines to a millionaire this whole time? OH SHIT! BUT FUCK, MAN! Peter damn Parker.”

Wade went in for another hug; Peter squeezed him back. Wade had a specific sent to him. It was like baby powder mixed with burning wood. It… it was interesting. Peter felt Wade thumbing his back, so peter reciprocated by rubbing the other man’s back. Then, Peter felt something fall on top of his head and roll down his neck. Wade sniffled, and peter realized that he was crying.

“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice was frantic as they broke the hug. “What’s wrong.”

Wade wiped his eyes quickly. “I-I'm fine. It’s just I'm so happy that you trust me with this.”

Peter smiled. “I am too.”

They stood silently for a bit.

“Oh, yeah” peter chuckled. “I’m never really this well groomed. This is like the first time i’ve shaved in a bit… so…”

-----

It had been a couple months since Peter had taken off his mask; The two of them were now inseparable. Peter was making his way over to Wade’s to go to their monthly “I-wanna-show-you-this-crappy-movie-and-laugh-at-it-with-you party” that they had every first Friday of the month. They switched who chose the movie every month, so one month Peter would choose then Wade would pick the next time.

It was getting dark. They always watched their movies in the dark. Peter walked along the busy road, cars zooming past. Sirens wailing every second, horns honking, stereos blaring crappy rap music, and people chattering. A group of people would pass him on the road every now and again. Usually groups of relatively young people. Some would stop for a second if they recognized him, but most just walked past without batting an eye.

When he got to Wade’s door, Peter knocked politely. Wade answered the door with some sweatpants on. Just sweatpants. Peter wasn’t very dressed up either, wearing some jeans, a t-shirt, an oversized bomber jacket, and some converse. It wasn't a very formal event so it made sense to not dress fancy.

“Hey, Pete!” They hugged for a second, then Wade invited Peter in. Wade had a shabby apartment. He knew it, Peter knew it. But it felt more like a home then peter’s penthouse that he didn’t even want to buy. He was drunk when he got it.

They went over to the couch and sat down. Wade already had a bowl of popcorn ready for them to enjoy. Peter brought over a stupid rom-com that was so poorly made that every second of it they had to pause because they were laughing so hard. It was so basic and cheesey, but they enjoyed laughing at it’s stupidness.

Eventually they got tired to making fun of it and lazily sat around, somewhat paying attention, making small conversation, and dozing off a bit. Peter found himself leaning up against Wade’s shoulder. He had fallen asleep and now the other man’s arm had found its way around the brunet’s shoulders. The movie was almost done, and Wade was staring blankly at the screen.

“Looks like you’re enjoying this masterpiece.” Peter’s voice was a little gruff with sleep. Wade snapped his arm back to himself, his face red.

“Sorry,” he choked out, but all Peter did was chuckle. He grabbed Wade’s hand and pulled his arm around again.

“It’s fine,” peter smiled.

“Ha, yeah. Sorry. Sorry for freaking out.”

“Wade, you don’t need to be so nervous!”

“Haha yup!” Wade said pretending to be even more uncomfortable.

“Oh my god. You’re so f-uhhhgggg” the two just started to chuckle.

The movie credits were now rolling and they had nothing to do. Wade’s are wrapped around Peter’s shoulders. The two of them kind of uncomfortable. There was something in the air that peter couldn’t quite place his finger on.

The weight of Wade’s arm was lifted from his shoulder; peter felt bare. He actually kinda liked that. Wade cleared his throat.

“Uhh,” he rubbed the nape of his neck. “Should you get going? I, uh, i don’t know if you have any other plans, and it’s getting kinda late.”

Peter felt a hole sink inside of him. He loved it here. Wade always cracking jokes. Peter had come to love the mans twisted humor. Though it was raunchy and gross at times, Wade at least dared to say the things he said. Peter didn’t want to leave and go back to his very boring penthouse. It sucked because it was a 3 bedroom for only one person. This place was so homey and warm. And Wade was their. Wade kinda gave Peter a sense of fun and joy, which he didn’t feel too often.

“Uh, well i don’t really have any other plans tonight,” Peter tried to find a reason to stay. His mind raced through all the possibilities, over thinking each one. His brain never knew when to stop. Then everything else melted away when his brain produced one scenario. A scenario where Peter flung himself at Wade and kissed him. “Uhhhhh… oh god.”

Wade’s expression changed. Concern? Confusion? God, Peter wished he had a Karen with him at all times to tell him how people were feeling so he didn’t have to try to read emotions. “Hey, Pete, you okay?”

His body went into action. He felt like a higher power was controlling him. Like he was a sim or something. He couldn’t stop his hand from cupping Wade’s face as he got closer. Weirdly enough, Peter didn’t mind being out of control for just this once.

But that changed. Wade leaned forwards too, and made them meet a lot faster then Peter had thought. It wasn’t how Peter imagined a first kiss would be. Well, he had kissed other people before, and his and MJ’s first kiss was a LOT better than this. Well, his first kiss with MJ was more aesthetically pleasing than this, but Peter couldn’t help but feel like he wanted this.

Wade was doing most of the work with this. He put a hand on Peter’s back and another behind his head, and he was pulling Peter in. The brunet started to rub the side of Wade’s face with his hand, and he wrapped his other arm around the back of Wade’s scared neck. Peter chuckled as Wade put the hand that was placed on Peter’s back under his shirt. Wade moved his other hand under Peter’s shirt too and pulled on Peter. He was pulled into a position where peter was on top of Wade’s bare chest. They pulled away from the kiss and panted. Wade was moving his hands rhythmically on peter’s back, and it made him weak. How was he so good at this?

Peter just laid on top of the other, broader, man. The shorter man snuck his head into the crook of Wade’s neck.

“So, what was that you said about not having plans tonight?” Wade smirked. “Cause, to me it looks like you DO have some plans.”

Peter shoved Wade as he stuck out his tongue. “Oh, fine. I’ll give in to your crappy pick up lines just. This. Once.” Wade pumped his fists in the air with excitement.

-----

Peter took a sip of his coffee. Black with two sugars. He was sat at the breakfast bar that led into the small kitchen in the corner of the main room. You pass by the kitchen, on your left, as you walk into the apartment. The dining room on the right side, and the living room in the middle, but you have to walk past the first two to get to it.

Wade was standing with some sweatpants on again. He had pulled them on this morning. Pater had watched him from the bed. The golden sunlight had poured in through the tiny slits in the blinds. Little bits of dust were floating in the air around him. His skin had looked holy, too holy to touch. He had looked like a god. A god who was now brewing coffee because he had given the last cup of the last batch to his… uhh… boy… friend?

“Uhh, Wade?” The other man turned around with a “hm?”. “What would you consider our relationshi-”

“Daddy, who’s this?” A little girl’s voice was groggy as a yawn escaped her mouth. When Peter whipped his head around with a bright smile, she lit up too. “Oh daddy! You didn’t tell me that Petey was staying over!”

“That was, uhh, a bit of a last minute thing” her father chuckled out. The small girl leaped up as Peter rushed up to her and gave him a hug. He ruffled her hair as he giggled.

“How’s school been, Ellie?” Wade walked over to place a hand on Peter’s back after the girl was set down.

“Oh!” Ellie took in a deep breath. “Well, you see, i don’t really have a lot of friends, but i really like art class, like, it’s really fun, and the teacher’s really nice, and we do lots of cool stuff. My PE teacher sucks because he makes us run every day and i get tired and it sucks and the only thing i like about that class is when we get to play dodgeball. We read this really cool book the other day but i can't remember what its called which sucks, but it was about the butterfly and it made a tornado with its wings and stuff it was SUPER COOL! Daddy and i watched Star Wars the other day and all the big planes were like ‘pew pew pew’ and Luke and Han were like ‘i’ll save you princess’ and it was AWESOME!”

“Well,” Wade cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, do you have your stuff for school ready?”

“Yup!” Ellie squeaked.

“Alright, captain Ellie, let's fight some bad guy's with knowledge! Drive this spaceship to school!” Wade picked up his keys and spun them on his finger effortlessly.

“It’s not a spaceship, dummy!” Ellie mocked as they headed to the door. “It’s a silver cr-v.”

Peter nearly spat out his coffee that he was sipping back into his cup. “See you later, Ellie!” Wade smiled and winked as he headed out the door, still pulling on a t-shirt.

Peter looked at a notepad and pen that hadden't been on the counter before Ellie had come out. Peter stood up and walked over to read it. The note was written in scribbled hand writing. Definitely Wade's. It read "Pete, you know exactly who you are to me and who I and to you. You don't seem like the hook-up type, so I'm guessing i just got myself into a long term thing."

[pietro-capimagines]

City Lights  (Peter Parker x young!reader)

Good morning my loves and Happy Saturday! I hope today brings fun memories and good laughs and of course, good fanfiction. I have so many requests at the moment and until I get them all done, I’m going to close requests. If you send one in, I won’t answer till I get the rest of these finished. It’s not that I don’t want to do it (I love getting your guys’ requests actually, they make my days interesting), I just don’t want to make you wait forever. I’ll make a post about when I open for requests again! Check out my other imagines and my just finished series featuring Bucky, "Battered and Bruised"! I love you all so much, and have a wonderful day. xoxo

Request:  Young!avenger x Peter Parker?

Description: Peter takes you on a tour of New York as a date and shows you all his favorite places. At the end of the night, he shows you the best view of the city in the most unconventional way. 

Warnings: None. Just fluff. 

Masterlist

“What do you mean by you’ve never been to New York?” Peter was gaping at you. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been living here, but you haven’t actually visited the city?” He was waving his arms around as he talked. 

You laughed at his reaction and gave him an awkward smile. It was true, you had been living in Stark Tower for the past seven months, but never got around to actually going to the city. 

“Well, I don’t get much time off, you know, saving humanity from aliens and crazy people.” You were trying to make up a viable excuse for why. Peter just kept staring at you his mouth hanging wide open. “What?” You started shifting your eyes around the room, having no idea what to do. 

“Babe, I know what we’re going to do today.” Peter gave you a goofy grin and ran down the hall, leaving you standing alone in the living room. 

“Oh lord, what’s he going to do?” You groaned to yourself. You shook your head, but smiled. He was such a dork. A dork that you had lots of feelings for. You loved him, but you had never said it to him, fearing that he wouldn’t feel the same. 

Seven months ago, Tony had asked you to move from the Avenger Tower in D.C. to Stark Tower to go undercover. Your job was to go to Peter’s high school and keep an eye on him for Tony. He was worried that Peter would start getting into trouble, and your job was to keep him out of it. Before you knew it, you were falling hard for him. Tony feared that you would, but allowed you to do so because you were like his daughter, and he loved you like one. All he wanted was to see you happy. So, just two months into your mission, and after spending a lot time together, along with a couple dates, you two became official. And once you started dating him, you realized you had to tell him what your original intentions were. 

When you told him, he wasn’t upset. He just kissed you and whispered to you, “My girlfriend is a freaking Avenger.” 

An hour later, he cam running in. “F/N! Come on, you’re coming with me.” You were laying on the couch, closing your eyes when he started pulling you off of it. 

“Where are we going?” You were giggling and stumbling to follow him. “Peter, I’m serious.” (No, you weren’t.) “Where the heck are you taking me?” You had this marveled look on you face, amazed that he could get you off the couch without becoming overly grumpy. 

“You’ll see. Come on.” He looked so adorable as he pulled you along down the stairs and out the door. Once you stepped outside, the quiet of the tower completely disappeared. You were left with the sound of cars, and honking, and people’s pointless conversations. He turned around to face you. 

“Ta da! I’m taking you to see the city.” He began to fumble with him hands and look towards the ground. “Since you haven’t been before, and since we haven’t been able to go on a date in a while, I decided that I could show you around.” He looked up at you with those innocent eyes that always made your heart skip a beat. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet, Peter.” You face turned a slightly shade of pink darker. You thought he was so cute when he got all nervous. A smile came upon your lips and you hooked your arm in his. “So, where to first?” 

He looked up at you with hopeful eyes and smiled. He looked like a little kid on Christmas morning.  You loved making him happy, he made you feel almost like a normal teenager who had an almost normal life. To be frank, you never had a normal life to begin with. You were born with ability to go invisible, and your parents abandoned you at the age of three after they scared you and they suddenly couldn’t see you. They were afraid of you, so they left. You fended for yourself till about two years ago when the Avengers discovered you and your ability, hoping you would join them. You gladly accepted the offer and you realized that you had a family again. They loved you like a younger sibling, but Tony loved you like you were his own daughter. Obviously, being an Avenger and living with them wasn’t normal for anybody, but neither was having spider-like senses.

You two spent the afternoon walking through New York City, checking out all the places Peter loved. He took you to his favorite pizza place for lunch, and then you two took a stroll around Central Park. You stopped at the lake and watched the ducks swim by. 

“This is really nice, Peter. Thank you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. 

He put his arms around you and placed a kiss on your forehead. “It’s my pleasure, babe. But, the day isn’t over yet.” He wrapped one of his arms around your waist and you two started walking back towards the street. He took you around street corner after street corner, pointing out places that he wanted to take you in the future, and telling you the fondest memories he had there. After about an hour of walking, he stopped you in front of a brick stoned building. 

“Where are we?” You were looking for a sign. There was none. You squinted your eyes, trying to figure out what was inside, but it was lowly lit. 

“You’ll see.” He was smirking at you as he took your hand and pulled you inside. Once you were through the door and you finally saw what it was, your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped to the floor. Inside the unsuspecting building was bookshelves stacked to the ceiling with books. 

“No. Way.” You were amazed. You dropped his hand and started walking up and down the aisles, mesmerized. You let your fingers graze across the spines, reading every title. They had classics, new books, well loved books, and all your favorite ones too. Peter watched you in adoration. He knew you would like this place. It was the oldest book store in New York, and he knew how much you liked to read. Once you looked through just about every single book in there, you walked up to him with the biggest smile on your face. 

“You’re amazing, did you know that? Oh my god, I could spend hours in here. I have to come back another day to read here.” You were beginning to ramble and Peter just shook his head, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. 

“F/N, you’ve already spent two hours just looking at all the books. I’m going to have to bring you back here, so you can spend the entire day here.” He pulled you into a hug. “There’s still one more thing I have to show you before I take you back to the tower. Come on.” You looked up at him with eyes that were filled with love. He leaned down and kissed you, filling your stomach with butterflies. He pulled you out of the bookstore and the sky that was once bright and sunny was now beginning to grow blue. Had you really been in there that long?

“F/N, hold on tight.” He wrapped his left arm tightly around you.

“Wait, wh-” You cut yourself off with a slight scream. Suddenly, you were swinging in the air, swooping from building to building. Your arms were gripping him, very, very tightly. Once the initial shock faded away, you were smiling at Peter as he slowly took you higher and higher off the ground. The cold wind was whipping your hair back, giving you this rush of adrenaline. Peter shot a web at a building, swinging you both up in the air. The next one hit a spire of a different building across the street and he swung around it, you secure in his arm, and making a soft landing on top of the building. 

“I give you special view of New York City from the top of the Empire State Building.” He took his free arm and displayed the view to him. 

“Oh my god…” The skyline looked beautiful against the sunset and the lights slowly turning on. “…it’s gorgeous.” You shifted yourself in his arms so that you were facing him, bodies pressed against each other. 

“Just like you.” Peter’s eyes studied every inch of your face, landing on your E/C eyes that he had fallen in love with. You looked towards the ground, trying to conceal your blush. “F/N.” He tilted your chin up, so that your eyes met his. 

“Yes, Peter?” You looked at him with doe eyes, hanging on every single word he had said. 

He paused, a small smile coming to his face. “I love you.” 

You were stunned. He said it. He said it first. He said that he loved you. 

You realized that you were completely silent, seeing that Peter was getting worried. A big smile replaced the shocked look on your face. 

“I love you too.” You let out a little laugh and pulled him down to you. Your lips collided, molding perfectly together. The feeling of his lips against yours made your heart swell. You pulled away and rested your head on his chest, watching the sun set behind the horizon. 

Peter swung you across the city back to the tower. He nonchalantly landed on the grounded in the middle of the sidewalk in front of Stark Tower. 

“I’ll come over tomorrow, okay babe?” He smiled down at you, holding your hand. 

“Okay.” You smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I love you too, Peter Parker.” You watched him fade into the crowd and then round a corner. Suddenly, he was swinging around a building. You shook your head and chuckled, walking back into the building. 

You were feeling so giddy. You were spinning around down the halls, humming to yourself. 

From his office, Tony heard you and peered out of the doorway, watching you as you walked down the hall, humming with a little skip in your step. Before he got caught, he sat back down at his deck and smiled to himself. You were happy, that’s all that mattered to him. He got back to work, and muttered to himself. 

“Peter Parker, you better take of my girl.”

Hope you liked it! I’m going to try and write a lot today, so that I have a couple oneshots ready to go. Let me know if you want to be added to the permanent taglist! Just message me and I’ll be sure to add you to the next story that I post. Have a wonderful day and I love you all. xoxo

Taglist:

@mcfuccfairy @fandomlover2001 @elegantnightmareshiro

[undermycitadel]

Evangelina//Request//Part 2

I am bombarded by a familiar female figure the second I step from the car’s grip and I want to cry from the lack of contact for a while. It’s Brigitte, squeezing me for dear life with her hands tugged at my hips and lower back. She was always so touchy but who was I to argue with someone who was excited to see me? I hugged her back in the same manner as she did to me, no longer caring about whether my skirt rose because I missed her so. Her muffled laughter was barely audible against my dark green jacket. The joyful sound of the girl’s laughter brightened my spirits almost to the point where you would think I would forget about “it”. I’ll never forget but I was distracted for a while. Brigitte is the loveliest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on and the fact that we were related made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world over any marriage proposal. “Angie! I didn’t think you’d actually come”, she exclaimed that posh accent of hers that I remembered. “Yeah. I didn’t even think I would leave New York until my time had passed”, I giggled after drawing our hands together and tangling our fingers together which caused Brigitte to laugh and hide her face in my chest.

“You’re just as I remembered, Angie”.

“You’re hardly! What color was your hair the last time? Platinum?” I flung a fair sized strand of her now Gray-ish blonde hair.

“I think it was more of a white, and who are you to talk Mrs.I had blonde hair when I was two but then it magically turned brown?”

“I told you it’s possible!”

I shut the door behind me once the two of us stopped jabbing at one another. Uncle Howard shut his door rather loudly then started for the rest of my things in the trunk. “You go on ahead, love”, he said. “I’ll take this to your room. He left his car double parked as well as me and Brigitte for some “catching up”. Brigitte waved at her Father to signal the okay with responding smiles and I wondered if I could live here for the rest of my life and have that same relationship with my parents. I was about ready to cancel my flight home from that look alone, however, Brigitte would give me some advice on parental memos and things of that nature. Breaking from my selfish thoughts, I stared at my cousin lovingly. She caught on eventually and broke into her signature smile that exposed her gap tooth for all of the world to see.

“I want to show you around my block if you don’t mind”, she grabbed my hand.

“Sure”.

“Great because there’s this sweet shop around the corner where I want to take you. It has all the toffee you could ever want!” said she before running off with me as if I were her prize.

Brigitte was my age but looked much older than sixteen. Her grayish-blonde hair drew down her her lower back as mine did but she had a set of bangs sweeping across her forehead to complement her squarish face. Her skin was a bright shade of olive, lips as pure as a peach, and her voice could rival the finest opera. To me, she looked to be more on the upper side of eighteen than a young girl like me. What gave her away was her childlike and almost ADHD type personality. Leave it to Brigitte to find a way to make a boring evening feel like an action packed afternoon with the works. I couldn’t begin to understand how she could still be a sophisticated young lady after that being said. Her looks were an extension of her personality, always dressing by the laws of the swinging sixties with her colorfully printed dresses, platformed boots, and makeup to top it all off. You would think that an outfit with that high of a color count would throw it off completely but she made do with it somehow. I know that I could never pull off what she was wearing as she bound the two of us together to venture to the highly talked about sweet shop around of the corner; prominently purple floral gown, kitten heels, and various pieces of black jewels around her neck and wrists. It was basic for her taste, yet, I wouldn’t bring myself to wear anything even remotely related. My self-confidence is my scapegoat for just about everything I refuse to do so I put the blame it on just that.

She and I were the closest out of all of all of my other family members including the younger ones. Maybe it was our gender which gave us both a reason to relate to one another or probably the fact that we were both hormonal teenagers with just as much to say as the next one to pass us. Either way, I felt instantly at home when I stepped onto the UK cement for the first time because of her and I loved her for it; nothing could change it.

“How do you feel?” asked Brigitte as we walked on the sidewalk and swing our connected hands whilst doing so.

“Bout what?”

“Being in Britain for the first time. What do you think of it so far?”

I looked at my surroundings, searching for an answer that we’d both agree with. A fine red, honking car sped down the stone street. I noticed that it was on the wrong side of the street and couldn’t believe it, quite frankly. Another turn of my head and there was an ice cream vendor handing out samples to tiny children with pigtails and bob cuts. I suppose you could find vendors anywhere but around my apartment was the only place you wouldn’t see any set foot. I was jealous and huffed to make a point of it.

“It’s quite nice. I think it’s dangerous that those cars are on the other side of the road, though. If anyone did that in New York you’d think they’d have a death wish or something”.

Brigitte chuckled, “Oh no. Evangelina, that’s the right way to drive. Hate to break it to you but the Brits are just better”.

“You’re a narcissist. But they really drive on the wrong side of the road? But how?”

“I don’t know. Probably because we’re on a different side of the world. If you go by that logic then we’re really not on the wrong side after all, huh?”

We exchanged thoughtful hums because I had never thought about it that way and I was curious as to why I hadn’t been taught to see it that way in school like how Brigitte had been. She said, “because America is the tourist attraction of the world, we must know things about it that even Americans don’t even about where they live”. Americans must really be stupid for this to be the case and they don’t even realize it. Mr.Kennedy, what are you doing?

Ahead of us stands a store on the corner of a brick building. It’s small and sweet, almost as sweet as what it advertises on the sign hung over the striped shade claiming to have “Penny Sweets” and “Sugarbabies”. I have never heard of those names before but apparently I should have because when I tell my cousin she goes out of her mind and demands for me to try them so again, against my will she drags me forward and into the greatly decorated sweet shop that I have heard so much about as of twenty minutes ago.

Inside of the store, I see gumball machines painted red, red striped tables and black chairs where children sit and eat their banana splits and sherbets. The floors are a pattern of black and white checkerboard, the ceiling has a combination of rainbow swirls and polka dots. At first I find the color patterns strange, but I soon realize that this store is catering to the young minds and not the mature. I can dig it. A heavy set man sits in a sectioned off corner of the interior with a cash register sit and various candies, chocolates, and other confections lay organized by color and brand. His eyes are masked with tinted circular shaped glasses and a monopoly man mustache scratching his upper lip. I would praise him for the eye-popping layout of the place but unfortunately I was taught not to talk to strangers. He appears friendly to Brigitte. I see her stroll past me then to the sir. “Brigitte, what a treat to see you here again”, he greets her, supporting himself with a hearty laugh.

“Mr.Bernie how do you do?”

“Swell, thank you dear. And what about yourself? You look bone thin! Why don’t you eat at all, love?” he wiggles her slim arm and she giggles girlishly, trying to hold back her arm.

“Oh Mr.Bernie, you know I can’t gain weight. Why do you suppose I’m here all the time?”

So there I am standing by the door, dumbfounded at my current situation. Her hyper personality could be a curse sometimes. They’re talking about god knows what and I have no idea what to do with myself. I could easily make my way next to my cousin and introduce myself to the family guy that she’s holding her own in a conversation with but that would mean confrontation and anyone who knows me knows that I’m not the fondest of confrontation. Just thinking of the awkward small talk that comes with meeting new people makes me cringe and tug at my skirt. All is uncomfortable regardless of the dreamy place I’m in and I hate it.

All is uncomfortable until I hear Mr.Bernie say curiously, “...and who is your friend over by the door. She looks scared to death”, then I’m white hot. Brigitte suddenly turns to my attention and giggles. “Oh forgive me! That’s not my friend”, she hurries to bring me to the man. “This is my cousin”.

Mr.Bernie lowers his glasses to have a clearer look at me. The crows’ feet on the corner of his eyes grows to be larger the more he squints and the more he squints the more the creases on his forehead show. There he goes again with that hearty laugh.

“And what might your name be miss…?”

“Sir, my name is Evangelina Abel, sir”.

“Isn’t it supposed to be Evangeline?”

“ Yes. My Father wanted to name me Evander because that was his Mother’s name but my Mother wanted the name Angelina because it was her Grandmother’s name-”

“And this was the compromise?”

“Yes, sir”.

“Hm... I rather like it. It’s unique.”

“Hello, Miss Evangelina Abel. You’re not from here, are you?”

“She’s visiting from New York City Mr.Bernie!” said Brigitte, interrupting me before I could answer.

He didn’t mind it, nor did I.

“New York, eh? ‘The big apple’? How’s it like over there? I’ve only ever been there once and it was before the war.”

“I wish I could tell you everything but I’ve only been living there for a few years since my parents were stationed to work for a law firm. Uh, the banana pudding is okay”.

There goes that laugh for the third time today.

“Have you ever heard of blood pudding before?”

I drew my brows together, “No, I’m afraid not sir”, he laughed again.

“Ah, Evangelina you’re a pure doll”, Mr.Bernie stood from his chair then waddled around the counter to face us front and center. There I saw the truth of his girth. “You’re going to do just fine here in U of K. Brigitte here knows our town too well for you not to have a good time over here.” He untied his apron slathered with stains from sweat and spilled soda, revealing his pit stains through his thin white shirt. He hung up his apron on the wooden post emerging from the wall and when he showed signs that he was going into the back room Brigitte called out matter of factly, “Mister I don’t know if you know this or not, but every time I come in here it’s to make a purchase Mr.Bernie.”

“Take what you’d like, dear. A customer like you don’t have to worry about paying when you bring me so much business”. He went into the backroom leaving the store unattended with children eating their desserts and a potential felon who could eat the entire contents of the store and not show it because it would be impossible.

Brigitte faced me with one of the most excited grins I’ve ever seen. “See the perks of unhealthy eating? You’re welcome”.

“Thank you, but I’m not much of a sweet tooth. You go on ahead. I’ll try to find some-”

“Fruit? Over there”, she pointed to a wall where bags of apples hang with bananas and other sorts of nature’s candy but chose not the welcoming grapes, but the blackcurrant toffee on the counter cut up into puny shapes. God bless her soul.

I hear a bell ring and it belongs to the door, for someone has entered. I haven’t eaten more than two dried dates, Brigitte, on the other hand, has gone from Maltesers to White Gums. There is a boy wearing black slacks and a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up walking directly to my cousin who is stuffing her face with one-hundred percent sugar. She doesn’t notice the boy until he’s leaning on the table she’s sitting at as she’s eating but when she does her face lights up and the chocolate in between her teeth show, clear as day. She sets down her confections, throwing herself up from her seat, “Mick!”, and wrapping her arms around the teenager’s shoulders. I thought this must be her boyfriend because never before have I seen a young lady act as friendly to a friend as Brigitte was with the stranger.

Mick hugged her for a split second before giving in, “alright Brigitte, don’t break me now”.

She pressed his cheeks together, “You’re such a sour puss”, and kissed the tip of his nose.

I’m convinced they’re together. How could they not?

I wasn’t one to interfere in what I assumed the situation to be, so I kept to myself, looking down to my half eaten date to pull apart the dried skin and letting it drop onto the checkerboard floor.

“Where have you been Jagger? I thought you weren’t going to punk out on us until at least August.”

“I wasn’t. You know how my Mum is; always bitching about those records of mine.”

“What happened this time?” asked Brigitte sounding like she had a mouthful of chocolate.

“It was that damn Chuck Berry record you gave me. I was blastin’ it while cleaning my room and she came in and shut it down. Grounded me for a week”. His voice was a boyish baritone, the posh accent varied upon words, and I wanted to see the face behind the voice but didn’t dare look up.

“Damn”.

“Damn right. I blame her. If she would just be cool with the music. I mean, at least I was cleaning”.

Brigitte giggled her contagious giggle, passing it to Mick who tried to cover it.

“Yeah well, that’s the reason for the hiatus- and what about you and Dean, huh? Where have you been the past few days?”

“You know me by now Mick. Either I’m here or I’m in the house. I don’t know about Dean. My brother’s weird- maybe he’s got a girl or something”.

“You wanna go to the record store? Walk or something? I’m bored, haven’t done anything all day”.

“We can-”, I heard a clunk on the table. “But first, meet my cousin; she’s over there”.

I looked up from the pile of tiny peelings on the floor and straight to the two across from me. Then I was able to have a good look at the alleged Mick Jagger. His skin was fair, lips were thick and red, hair as long as I saw it being from the back, and his eyes were innocently baby blue. My eyes were only innocent and auburn, I stared back at the two across the room, switching back to either one by the second. My lips were pouted, half open. To avoid it staying that way, I thought quickly to chew on the remainder of my dried date. Mick blinked his glazed eyes over while turned to my direction. His eyebrows raised and lips were pursed as he studied me. Brigitte proceeded to pick herself up from her seat and drag me over to where they nested. After Mick took a seat on at one of the wooden chairs around our table I too took a chair but not by my choosing. Brigitte was pretty much controlling my movements by then.

“Her name’s Evangelina Abel, we’re related”, she crouched down in order to be our sitting heights. Brigitte supported herself with her elbows on the edge of the round table and head resting on her folded arms. My eyes drew down to his hands that were breaking off a chunk of I would have expected a grant meeting from my cousin and so this shouldn’t have been a surprise to me. He was new, so I was going to act new too. I’ll start off with a fresh “Hi” and a warm nod of my head.

“Hello there. Have you the stomach that she has?” he flicked Brigitte’s bang and giggled.

“Can you believe her?” he cocked his head at me. “ She eats food like it’s going out of style”.

I smiled, holding back my horse laughter at my cousin. She pushed Mick’s arm playfully in pretend anguish. “Watch it, Jagger. More of that and I'll eat your hyde”

“Be my guest”, he said, and then I sputtered with giggles at her expensive.

He glanced at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“You like that huh?”

I took a break from sprinkling lemon juice on Brigitte’s wounded pride. “Do you guys always jab at each other like that?”

“Pretty much. I suppose there is a relative bond between us that we like denying, don’t we Ms.Malik?”

“We sure do Mr.Jagger”, she agreed whilst groggily getting up. “Paws off my chocolate. You know Bernie doesn’t like it when I share merchandise”, she slapped his hands away from the selection of candies on the table. In response to that, Mick leaned over the table and lightly coughed over everything that lay about. I found this hilarious, too hilarious even. In fact, this type of humor gave me the urge to burst out into a flame of laughter although it made Brigitte want to crawl out of her skin, I’m sure. I covered my mouth with my hand to prevent anything from spilling out and watched the free entertainment.

“Oh my god, Mick, stop!”, she gasped. She then nearly struck him, pushing him out of the chair and far away from the table.

She still ate what she could from the table regardless of what Mick did to the confections.

“You see what I have to put up with?” he asked me. I couldn’t respond, for if I did the threat of sounding like a fool would catch up and show clearer than the chocolate in between Brigitte’s teeth. The only response I was capable of producing was a slow shaking of my head whilst still covering my mouth.

“Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted by with fiend, Evangelina, what do you think of our town? Hate it already?” Mick got up at his own pace. Once up, he shared a seat with the think Brigitte because why not? There was more than enough room for the both of them. “I’ve only been in Dartford for merely a minute and Brigitte brought me here. So far it’s been sweet”, I answered, smiling for a second at my word play. I placed both of my hands on the table and covered the dried fruit. “I don’t think I’ll have a bad time, though”, I tucked my hair behind both of my ears. “She’s here for the summer”, added Brigitte.

“Is that so?” he asks me in a tone of which I view as vaguely flirty.

“That is correct sir” I somewhat flirted back.

Mick reached over and placed his hands over mine. He gingerly unfolded my hands and I’m feeling tinglingly by the abruptness of his actions. I wasn’t sure if that was a thing that British people do but I wasn’t going to complain. It felt quite nice to have his hands on my own. After he’d unfolded my hands, he rolled the fruit from underneath and pick it up. Mick brought it to his mouth and chewed off a piece. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and I know I’m blushing. “You’ll be fine here. Brigitte may look dumb on the outside but she’s a sweetheart at heart”. Brigitte was touched, saying “Awe” then kissing Mick on his cheek. Then he said, “but if you get tired of her bitching at all, know that I live only a few houses down”, which caused her to nudge him in the side. “I’m going to eat you, so be prepared”.

We shared eye contact, ignoring Brigitte. He shown a half smile and so did I. He continued to chew on the date. I couldn’t help but think highly of him. It hadn’t even been eleven minutes getting to know him and his confidence was growing on me. The humor was cute and so was he. You’re right Jagger, I’ll be just fine here.

Mick broke the stare when the shop’s owner came back from behind the back room’s door, fresh and so clean-clean. I craned my neck to see Mr.Bernie. The new shirt he wore was a dark green button up paired neatly with gray trousers and black loafers. My guess was that the store was going to close early because of the briefcase in his hand. His face wasn’t as welcoming as it was when I first came through the door. “Mick, you’re not stealing again are you?” he stomped towards our table.

“I told you Mr.Bernie: I wasn’t stealing”, Mick defended himself. “It just so happened that I came in the day that your shipments came in and you were short of one Milk bar. I don’t even like milk!”

“Yeah, yeah Jagger. We’ll see what the tapes say. Brigitte, I’m home bound. Wendy will be here shortly. Have a nice afternoon, dear. Tell your Mum I’m still waiting for her casserole dish”, the heavy set man opened the door. “Ms.Abel, you have a nice time in our community. I hope to see you again in this shop of mine”. He tipped his hat and was out the door. After the door was shut and Mick was sure that Mr.Bernie was gone, he flipped him off.

“Mick, how dare you”, laughed Brigitte as she playfully scolded and slapped his arm.

“Wendy’s just as bad as him. I’d better be off”.

“We’re leaving too”.

_________________________________________________________

Back at the house later that evening, I lounged in the kitchen with Brigitte nursing a glass of water and watching the birds fly in and out of their nest through the window. Mick was cool. I thought about him in and out of our conversations about pointless topics spanning from eyebrows to all of the foods I refuse to eat. She felt that after all of that prior eating that it was time for some more eating. She helped herself to a cold and refreshing Cornish Dairy Bar, fresh from the freezer. I was bewildered. I mean, where was it all going? I remembered her mentioning something about a devil’s food cake with her name on it on the walk to the sweet shop. If she could get that down then there was certainly an award with her name on it somewhere. Brigitte couldn’t trust a person who doesn’t drink milk but Mick was the only exception.

“I don’t like milk either”, I said.

“You’re an exception too”.

Nothing felt out of the ordinary, nothing felt any more different than before. I assumed it was because I’d been resting in one place for too long. By the end of that first day, I had only gone so far as to walk to the sweet shop and see as much as I could on the walk there. At nightfall, Brigitte’s brothers came home after a long day of looking for work around Central London. The first to enter was a Blonde swept back hair. So did the second and did the third. The boys were triplets with six-foot tall bodies, pearl skin, and black sports coats, walking one by one in through the out door. They all looked like a carbon copy of Marlon Brando from a 1950’s movie. “Where’s Dad?” the first one asked, his head around the room looking for someone with an answer. “Did he make food?” asked the identical one, second in line. “Brigitte!” called the third in line. All well put together gentlemen. You wouldn’t think their voices could scruff up as they did. Brigitte popped her head away from the confection to see her brothers to say “Oh hey boys! Guess what?”, but the trifecta made a B-line for the refrigerator, completely ignoring their own flesh and blood.

She turned back to me, “You see this? This disrespect?”, with a hand covering the right side of her mouth.

The boys huddled around the fridge as if to plot an evil plan on the Lima beans. They came up for air with an armful each of everything from eggs to almond butter. Brigitte tried to get their attention by offering the boys a taste of her sugary goodness but they didn’t bat an eye. It took her going up to them sitting around the oval dining table and touching a drop of their cinnamon soda pop to draw their eyes. “Can I help you?” one of them asked, shielding his stash with a coat coated arm. I peered through the arches connecting the dining room from the kitchen nonchalantly. I was never one to stick my nose into other people's business and I wasn’t going to start that train up today.

“Has Dad not told you about our guest?” she placed a hand on her hip and another firmly grasping her dairy product.

“No, no he didn’t”, one of the boys shook his head. His posh accent made it impossible for him to pronounce his words correctly because he didn’t sound the second d in didn’t. Never would you have heard that anywhere in New York unless you were close to your Father making a business deal with an Italian man with chest hair and he was denying he’d ever met Angelo and ‘didn’t’ know who he was talking about. Brigitte said ‘didn’t’ exactly the same way so I guess it’s a regional thing.

“You ‘member Aunt Marcie, right?”

“How could I forget her. Now that’s two-hundred percent woman right there”, the boy at the head of the table butted in.

“Her daughter’s in the kitchen, you swine” she pointed behind her to where I sit, pretending to mind my own business.

The boys around the jokester’s mouths form in the shape of an ‘o’ slowly deforming into looks that tell all from the eyes, ‘You’ve shot yourself in the foot, buddy’. My eyes are in a daze somehow and I look at him with eyes of blazing fire. No one talks about my mother that way, even if she is pure woman and her legs do go all the way up. I would have had the mindset to think to myself: Hey, those curves are reserved for Pieter James but then I remembered ‘it’ and corrected myself immediately. Dammit. I wasn’t supposed to think about that. Now I’m gloomy and have to face new people. “Meet them, Angie. They’re all bark and no bite. Come along”, Brigitte beckoned for me to come and grab a chair with the rest of them. Reluctantly, I stood up and joined them as politely as I could show even though I felt tears burning my eyes. Better be sure to blink those away, we don’t want any more unwanted attention directed my way anymore today.

The threesome pointed interested eyes at me. “So you’re Evangelina?” the jokester raised an eyebrow. “So it appears”, I answered quietly. “...And your name would be?”

“Oh sure. I’m Kelly, that’s Dana, and over to there is Ventura”, Jokester inquired. “Mother was trying for girls but didn’t quite get around til the fourth try. Funny, she said ‘No I’m never having kids ever again, I’ll never have a girl, there’s no use in trying’ after Ventura was born but then she thought ‘Let’s wait til the boys burn two years, then we’ll start this train back up again’”. The roundtable laughed at the family inside joke, snickering about without me in the mixture. “So what brings you to Europe?” the triplet with the widest shoulders asked. “I know school’s out for you over there but it takes gall to agree to stay far away from a place you’re familiar with for very long”.

“Oh um, I don’t know. I think it was that very idea that influenced my decision, actually. I’ve been in New York for quite some time- don’t ever go there, you’d hate it. It was so congested there. I’m just glad that I had the opportunity to leave for a bit”.

“Any excuse to leave and join our humble abode is fine with me”, the triplet with the whitest teeth smiled.

“Shut up, Dana. You sound like a damn fag”, Kelly, the triplet with the most authority because he was first born, scolded the youngest by twenty-five minutes.

“Anyways, you’re safe here my wee little cousin. Dad’s hardly around, Mum makes a killer Rum cake, we sure won’t snitch, so you can pretty much do anything you very well please”, he shrugged.

I covered my mouth to conceal the smirk I knew would appear. Really? Ludacris, absolutely ridiculous. “You’re joking, right?” I looked to Brigitte next to me for reassurance. “Is this- I mean- really?” I sported a toothy grin. I probably looked as ridiculous as the news I’d just heard but I was too excited to care. What a newbie, I was, yet, I didn’t care.

“I mean, listen”, Kelly said, “Me and the boys are still teenagers. We wouldn’t want our arses in heat”.

Brigitte nodded her head sympathetically. “Yes sweetie, you’re free here. Awe guys look at her, She’s so cute. They probably never let her out of her cage”.

Little did she know…

“Awe guys, let’s not scorn me for being happy. I just- really?”

“It’ll take a minute to set in, my dear child” Brigitte covered my ears.

“You guys, she’s so cute when she doesn’t understand anything”

“Hey!” I shoved her away. She broke a piece off from Dana’s chocolate bar and shrugged her shoulders as if to say “What are you gonna do?”. I knew what I was going to do. And especially with this newfound information...exactly what I’ve been doing all along because I am a complete putz who is scared of dipping her feet in the water and who is afraid that with whatever she does, it will get back to her parents and they’ll ship her off to a hell unknown to the public. It just wasn’t for me to go out of my comfort zone. “Who knows, baby. Maybe you’ll do something”, Brigitte chewed.

I didn’t want to think much about tomorrow as much anymore. No longer did I look forward to what was to come, the excitement of a new territory, the sweets to be shared. My head hurt, and I couldn’t understand it at all because I’d stopped thinking about it a while ago. I thought I did. I was tired, I didn’t dare show signs, but I wanted to go to bed and forget until tomorrow. In my dreams the feelings wouldn’t bother me. I could lay on a plush pillow of relax and doze off into the soundless plummet until morning. I wanted a bed. I yawned to make it known. To sell the idea more so, I rubbed my eyes and messed around with the hairs framing my face. Brigitte turned face, scrunching her eyes at me. “Did I show you to your room yet? You’re tired, aren’t you? Don't fret”. She began to get up and show me up. I didn’t need to carry my luggage because that had been taken care of earlier today. To my surprise the wall clock did not match my wrist watch which read 4:27 as the clock on the wall read five hours later. That was queer. I wasn’t sure to what connection it had with the time in New York but I was tired and couldn’t have cared less if it was my last hour on earth. When it gets dark outside, it is officially past my bedtime. If it wasn’t dark then I would sure need the escape for a while. Brigitte escorted me to the bedroom at the end of the hall, up the grand staircase that would lead us there. She said, “You’ll be sleeping in this room with me” which wasn’t the least of me troubles. After leaving me alone with the door shut behind her I heard muffles of “It’s only nine, how could she be tired”. It wasn’t my fault. Blame it on my hormones. Blame it on whatever you want, I no longer care. “Goodnight”, said Brigitte before she gingerly closed the door. “See you in the morning”, I lazily waved her out.

My bag had been neatly placed on the twin bed to the right of the room. That bed, with a velvet comforter, gray sheets, and velvet pillows, would be mine. The one opposite to the bed, following the same color schemes, would belong to Brigitte for as long as I would be staying. It was a nice color to pair. It certainly matched up with the rest of the room with the faint shade of red. The dark wood flooring placed the final touches towards setting the tone of the bedroom. I didn’t take a minute to admire the rest of the furniture inside of the bedroom. Not then, since It would be of no use to me at the moment. I let out an exhausted sigh. I didn’t know where my exhaustion was coming from, mental or physical. I opted for the mental just because of what took place earlier. I regretted coming after all. Everything went to hell the minute I arrived on the U.K. grass. I felt uncomfortable, didn’t want to cause any commotion, didn’t want to let loose, and I sure as hell didn’t want to hear about my parents getting a fucking divorce. The only person who really had my attention for the greater good was the boy Mick Jagger and I was only half certain that he was eighteen years of age. I sniffled, thinking of his attitude upon first seeing me. My pained chest felt a bit better with his image in mind to lay with me as I tried to sleep. He said that I'd do just fine over here and so far he proved himself to be a liar, Maybe I would look forward to the following days, for his sake,

My dropped my behind to the velvet. “It was bound to happen”, I raked my hair with my tender hand. Getting the knots out were more of a priority than anything else. “This was going to happen anyways- I should have seen this coming, I’m stupid. Stupid”. Talking to myself was also one of those more important priorities. Also tearing up, as I could feel them pricking in my eyes, burning my nose. The hand designated for untangling the knots swiped the tears away from underneath my eyes. I’ll cry later, I wanted to sleep now. A few deep breaths in, out, in, out. “...I’m okay”, I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Get dressed for bed”, I demanded myself to unzip the tweed suitcase, carve through the folded clothes and pick out my choice Bardot lace neckline nightdress with ribbons and of the shade blush because if I was going to cry myself to sleep I were to do it in style. I liked it because the top half was lace and the lower half was a silky material. I’ll slip and slide out of bed but at least I’ll look comfortable. My eyes were on fire when I undressed. The swiping away of the tears earlier did no justice in the long term. Barely even short term. My hair tousled around my face and I didn’t care. My first day away from home was a shit and I didn’t care. The tears were starting to stream and I didn’t care. I blindly removed the suitcase from off of the bed. My hands were my eyes, I felt my way into the bed and proceeded to cry in the light. Dammit. I aggravatedly threw the sheets away from my body and slapped the light switch off. Now, I proceeded to cry in the dark, patiently waiting for the following ninety-one days to be over.