#you can even use the wrong fork to eat salad wow

[zephyrchama]

(Based off of the Birthday Stayover Devilgram)

"So, Barbatos isn't here?" you asked. It was hard to believe the butler would willingly agree to stay with the brothers for so long. You wondered where exactly he would be sleeping in the House of Lamentation for three whole days, and wondered if you should have tidied up your room before leaving.

"That's correct. The entire palace is empty except for us." Diavolo looked proud and giddy. His devilish grin stretched from ear to ear. "We can make all the noise we want, in any room we want, and no one will disturb us. You know what this means?"

You thought you knew where this spiel was heading. "Yes."

"I knew you would." Diavolo put his hand on your shoulder. From that moment on, you were partners. "We can finally slide down the railing instead of walking down the stairs. We can do this for three whole days and nobody's going to scold us."

[estrel]

for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too.  PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one. 

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now. 

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles. 

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.” 

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know. 

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits. 

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued. 

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea. 

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow. 

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush. 

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand. 

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

[tonystarktogo]

Last part of the time travel crack ‘verse for now (and sorry for making you all worry about the scepter, I didn’t mean it that way, it just seemed like a good cut-off point tbh):

"The scepter! Did anyone keep an eye on the scepter?"

"I assure you," Agent Agent, who looks a little singed and has a bandage wrapped around one ear, yet continues to rock the personality-free drawl that tricks people into thinking he’s not worth paying attention to, speaks up, "that the scepter is still safely in SHIELD custody, Dr. Banner."

Banner scoffs.

Rogers grimaces.

Barton winces.

And oh, all other issues aside, the vindication of this moment is glorious. Tony feels fully justified in the doubtful look he aims at the screen. You know your show sucks balls when even your own operative doesn’t buy what you’re selling.

"That’s great," Banner says in a painfully droll voice. "But I’ll feel a lot better when we hand it over to our resident Asgardian prince for safekeeping rather than put it into a secret high-security facility and hope for the best. Like the one you stored the Tesseract in took Loki what, five minutes to take over?"

Woah, talk about burn. Tony doesn’t bother muffling his snicker. Who’d have thought Banner has it in him?

[continues under the cut]

"Hang on, wouldn’t it be better—" Rogers interrupts before Fury or Coulson can come up with an excuse, which judging by their sour-slash-carefully-blank expressions isn’t as easy as they’d like it to be.

Banner raises one hand. It shouldn’t be a power move on part with his green counterpart squashing a car in his fist, isn’t even particularly aggressive but for some reason Rogers shuts up. Immediately. The bright, eerily green eyes might have something to do with it. 

"If you’re going where I think you’re going, I advise you to reconsider," Banner growls, the vocals deep enough that Romanoff reaches for the nearest weapon. "Even setting my personal issues aside, it’s not worth the risk."

Barton sighs with what sounds less like exhaustion and more like sad resignation. "Hate to say it, Cap, but he’s right. Sending the scepter off-Earth with the Tesseract is probably the safest course of action we can take right now. We can’t count on being that lucky again."

"Agent Barton," Agent Agent’s words drip with such a pointedly polite friendliness, it’s a wonder he doesn’t spear his own tongue on it. "Please desist in trying to hand off objects that pose an immediate threat to global security to an unvetted alien who, while a valued ally, is in line for the throne of a foreign world."

And wow. Tony’s not gonna win a prize for his sensitivity any time soon, but there’s some things you just don’t say to a guy who got brainwashed into doing an alien’s bidding less than forty-eight hours ago. Going by the way Romanoff has gone rigid, she agrees.

Luckily for everyone present, Barton doesn’t bat an eye at the dig. He leans forward instead, elbows placed on his tights, the picture of relaxation. As long as you ignore the expression on his face that could possibly pass for a smile. If you catch sight of it out of the corner of your eye. Through a dirty mirror. 

"Not that I’m not glad to see you alive and well, Phil, because I am. But getting my head rolled once was already one time too many and if the Tesseract is powerful enough to draw fucking aliens to it then it’s too fucking powerful for us to protect." Barton’s voice becomes progressively lower as he continues his little not-having-any-of-your-shit rant. "More people are gonna get killed over that thing. Good people. Because we don’t have the damn resources to keep it safe. So if we gotta bet on Asgard for this, then that’s what we’re gonna fucking do because to be frank with you sir I’d rather lead the hostile aliens to a world ready for interstellar warfare than my own."

Thor straightens from where he’s been fixated on Loki for the past hour or so, trying to crawl into his brother’s skull through willpower alone by the looks of it, and dips his head in Barton’s direction. "Thank you for your faith," he says gravely, as though Barton hasn’t straight up told everyone in this room he wants to use Asgard as a shield-slash-sacrificial-offering. "I hope my people will prove worthy of it."

"Should be fine." Banner shrugs with a nonchalance Tony envies. "’s long as we take care of your murderous sibling first."

Thor winces. Loki’s face loses whatever expressiveness it had left and it already was at state zero: emotions not welcome here to begin with. 

But. Tony tilts his head. Why not just call Loki by his name? Unless, of course, Banner isn’t referring to him. But how would the infamous Hulk-slash-brilliant-scientist have gotten himself wrapped up in alien family drama? And is there a form Tony can sign? Because he hates being kept out of the loop.

"Avengers!" Fury snaps before things can get any more awkward. Which, good for him, but in Tony’s fine opinion he should have taken the win and be done with it. There’s just no winning against whatever type of madness — not to mention feelings — these people are so inconsiderately spreading inside his walls. "You’re not bartering off our best chance to defend ourselves against alien invaders, have I made myself clear? That’s an order."

Rogers scoffs at the screen and damn it, Tony’s determined not to like the guy but the way he just smirks humorlessly as he stares Fury down, all aww shucks did you want the pretty, glowy thing too and well too damn bad for you makes it hard. Especially when Rogers goes that little extra mile and asks with a plain as day air of who fucking cares: "Whatever gave you the impression that this is a negotiation, Director Fury?"

It’s just too great a line to resist and Tony is only human. He makes a sharp gesture with his hand and JARVIS disconnects the call before they witness Fury pop a blood vessel. Let that be Agent’s problem for the time being.

"So," Tony states after a moment. "Besides all but declaring war on SHIELD, the organization two people in this room are officially employed by, for the record, and dealing with Reindeer Games over there, what’s the plan?"

Nervous shuffling. Awkward grins. Badly-hidden glances going back and forth. 

Perhaps most notably, nobody protests the declaring-war-on-SHIELD part. Tony would ask but frankly he’s still on his first glass of scotch — meaning way too fucking sober for whatever madness the answer to that question will undoubtedly raise. It’s a sad, sad day in the history of mankind when Tony is the voice of reason in a room filled with one-person-armies.

"What about Shawarma?" Rogers, apparently the most uncomfortable with the pressing silence, blurts out.

Tony gives that pitiful attempt to change the subject the nice try, have to admit I didn’t see that coming but you’re gonna have to give me more than that look it deserves. As it turns out though, he may have been overestimating his present company’s average ability to read a room.

"I could go for a bite," Barton pipes up, earning himself a soul-shriveling, dead-eyed, where the fuck did I go wrong with you and how have I not killed you yet stare, courtesy of Romanoff that he brushes off with admirable ease. Still not moving an inch away from her either and if Tony’s noticed the way her hand’s been edging ever closer to the knife strapped to her calf, there’s no way Barton hasn’t.

"Sounds good," Banner chimes in with a twisted amusement that makes Tony want to scratch his eyes out. "I know just to the place."

*

They do eat Shawarma together. [All of them, even Loki, because Thor insists his brother is far too thin. Considering Barton doesn’t protest and the only person Loki tries to stab with his salad fork is Thor himself, nobody comments on it.]

As if to add insult to a very long list of injuries that Tony is dying to poke and prod at, the food tastes delicious.

*

Okay so the whole antagonizing SHIELD thing wasn’t planned, but I figured in this AU there was no drawn out battle and no bomb and so there was no ‘thank fuck we’re even alive right now’ relief to take the edge of. Instead everyone is pissed off and frustrated (if for very different reasons) and not outright attacking the helicarrier right now is about all the diplomacy Steve has the patience for at this point.

[marrys-dream-world]

you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it

Read on AO3

Summary: When Marinette agreed to pretend to be Adrien's girlfriend so he could throw his father off the scent of his actual girlfriend, Ladybug, she didn't think anything could go wrong during the span of one dinner. Turns out she was wrong, of course. Fortunately, there's always a friendly cat looking out for her.

Notes: Guess who was inspired? This is a companion piece to “lovers alone wear sunlight”, but can be read as a stand alone. 

One lesson that Marinette had to learn quickly after becoming Ladybug was that there was always a chance of even the best made plans going sideways.

So when she slept through her alarm, had to rush into getting dressed for class, dumped salt instead of sugar in her coffee and tried to eat her croissant so fast before class started that she choked and had to be escorted to the infirmary by a worried Alya, she tried to not see it as an omen of what was to come. She held her head high and soldiered on through the day with her mismatched shoes and mouth tasting like a mix of salt and bitterness, not letting any of it bother her. 

She did have one weakness, however.

“Marinette, can I talk to you?” There it was. Suddenly, her knees felt weak.

Be still, my beating heart. She scolded. 

Adrien had rushed to ask her as soon as Ms. Bustier finished the class for lunch, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. At that, he flushed and figdted on the spot.

“Alone?” He added quietly, doing a decent job at ignoring the way their classmates leaned in.

“I- hum, yeah, I mean, yeah.” She said eloquently, feeling her neck burn. “Won’t you home at lunch? No, lunch at home? E-eat lunch at home? Today?”

“Not today, no.” He said. He casually put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear. She wondered if he could hear her heartbeat. “I need your help.”

Wasn’t that a bucket of cold water?

She straightened up. “Of course! C’mon.”

Marinette grasped his wrist in one hand and her backpack in another, pulling a stunned Adrien from the classroom. She caught a glimpse of her classmate’s knowing smile, Alya’s confused face, Chloe trying to pretend she wasn’t watching and Lila looking contemplative. She took him to a classroom that was usually empty around lunch time, something she knew from always needing a handy place to transform to fight akumas like Lunch Lady. 

“No one comes here at this hour.” She reassured him and he relaxed against a table. “No one will overhear or anything.”

My father said that he heard it from a “reliable source from school”. He had told Ladybug, the day before. I think there’s someone spying on me for him. 

“Marinette, I… Wow, this is awkward.” Adrien said, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking the air in front of him. 

“Take your time.” She said. It sure wasn’t an easy tale to tell. 

“Okay, this will sound really weird, but let me finish: father told me yesterday that he knows I’m dating someone and I told him you’re my secret girlfriend.” He started, tensing up again. When she just raised an eyebrow and nodded, he went on. “I panicked. I do have a girlfriend, but I can’t introduce her to my father due to some personal reason, but he wouldn’t accept that. And I can’t deny it because, apparently, everyone says I’m ‘obviously lovesick’ and my father wouldn’t believe otherwise.”

Well, there’s her confirmation that he read through the “Lovesick Agreste: is Paris’ biggest teenager bachelor off the market?” articles. Not that anyone in class hadn’t noticed his sighs and blushes and random daydreaming. She liked to think she was more subtle than that. 

“So I told him it was you because you’re one of my best friends and he likes you a lot!” Hearing it for a second time doesn’t make the idea that Gabriel Agreste likes her any less surreal. “But now he wants to meet you for dinner today and I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you pretend to be my girlfriend? Just for today?”

Marinette stared at him for a moment. She had known the full story almost as soon as it happened, Adrien spilling it and his plan for dinner to Ladybug the night before. It had given her time to prepare and she was grateful, having no idea how she would react if he had caught her blindsided. But it was still weird watching it play out, like the merging of an outsider perspective and her own.

“Can I ask a question?” She managed to croak out. There was really only one answer she wanted. 

Adrien twitched. “Y-yes, of course.”

“This girl… does she make you happy?”

Adrien looked straight into her eyes and answered solemnly. “Deliriously happy.”

Marinette couldn’t hold back the grin that took over her face.

“Let’s do this, then!” Her heart was swelling so much she thought it would burst out of her chest. “Adrien Agreste, I’ll be your fake girlfriend!”

The beaming smile she received made it worth it already. She just had to be discreet about it.

<>

“Soooo… What did Adrien want to talk about?” Alíx asked, a teasing grin on her face that was matched by Mylene, Rose and Juleka. They had crowdened her desk as soon as class let out. 

“He just wanted help with… homework.” Marinette word-vomited. Alya paused on putting her things away to facepalm.

“Marinette, it’s okay, you don’t need to pretend.” Mylene said calmly, which only confused her.

“Pretend to what?”

Rose laughed. “We know you’re dating Adrien.”

Marinette.exe has stopped working.

“You know what?”

“We understand you’re trying to keep it a secret, but you’re not exactly subtle. You both keep daydreaming in class and smiling and blushing.” Juleka pointed out. Fine, maybe she wasn’t as subtle as she thought. “It’s okay, we won’t tell anyone.”

There’s nothing to tell! She wanted to scream.

We aren’t dating at all. Are you guys crazy? She wanted to deny.

Then, something in her mind clicked.

“You guys figured me out.” Marinette said, injecting a proportionate amount of defeat into her voice. Distantly, she heard Alya choke. “Adrien and I are dating…”

The four girls cheered.

“... but we were keeping it a secret because his father is, you know. “ They all nodded, including Alya. Unfortunately, they did know Gabriel Agreste. “But he figured it out and now I’m going to have dinner at his house today.”

Rose and Alya let out high pitched screams for two very different reasons.

“Oh, Marinette, you’re formally meeting your in-laws, this is serious!” Rose chirped. Marinette decided to focus on that instead of Alya’s murderous eyes. “We have to give you a makeover!”

“Great idea!” Marinette shouted, jumping up from her seat and avoiding Alya’s hand that was trying to claw into her arm. “Everyone is invited to my house today!”

Sorry, Alya. She thought as the other girls started to talk over each other as Alya silently fumed. But I can’t have this conversation right now. 

<>

She did regret that decision, eventually. 

Between Alíx’s surprisingly accurate tips on how rich people ate dinner and which fork to absolutely not use for salad, Juleka’s makeup tips and Rose and Mylene’s debates on which outfit suited her the best, Marinette is left even more nervous. It doesn’t help that Alya spends the whole time sitting in the corner, just staring at Marinette. Even when Marinette brings out her favorite tart as a peace offering, Alya eats it, paper mold and all, while staring deeply into her eyes.

It was incredibly unsettling. 

“Ta-da!” Rose chirps, presenting a dolled up Marinette to her four-people audience. They all clapped. 

Marinette looked into the mirror. She could admit she looked amazing, make up well-done and outfit impeccable. But at what cost?

“Our baby is all grown up.” Alíx said, wiping a fake tear from her cheek. “She even knows how to use forks now.”

She swallowed back a sob. After Marinette misused the fish fork for the eleventh time, Alíx had taken to ripping an Adrien picture everytime she got it wrong. She learned pretty quickly after that. 

“Great work, girls.” Alya said, her first words in three hours. She got up from the chair and clasped her hands. “Now, Mama Alya needs to have a word alone with her daughter.”

“Of course!” Mylene said, finishing putting the rest of Marinette’s clothes away. 

As the girls left, Marinette looked longingly at her window and only stopped thinking of escaping, halfway through a plan, when she saw the look on Alya’s face. 

“So, peach really brings out my complexion, huh? Or maybe Juleka is just that good with makeup.” She tried.

Tikki, coming out of her hiding place, sighed.

“Marinette, that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“What? I think I had worse makeup looks before.”

“Marinette.”

She winced. “In my defense, I don’t think this makes it into the top 10 dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Why did you tell the girls you’re dating Adrien?”

“Because I am dating Adrien.”

“Ladybug is dating Adrien.” And by Alya’s tone, her opinion hasn’t improved on that either. 

“And Marinette is helping Adrien throw off his father from that by pretending to be his girlfriend.” Marinette said, then, at Alya dumbfounded look, made jazz hands and added a weak: “Ta-da.”

“Tikki.” Alya said, voice restraining a mix of frustration and desperation. “Why do you let Marinette do dumb stuff like this?”

Tikki swallowed a whole cookie. “I don’t control the speed in which Marinette does dumb stuff.”

“Hey!”

“Why not?”

“I’m still here, you know?”

Tikki and Alya’s combo stare shut her up. 

“How do you get yourself in these situations?” Alya asked, helplessly.

“Welcome to my life.” Tikki said, offering Alya a cookie. They toasted before biting into their perspective treats. 

“It’s not that bad.” Marinette said. Neither gave her a response. 

<>

The Agrestes sent her a car to take her to dinner.

Alya and her parents sent her off. Her, on her tenth fruit tart and judging-and-supportive-at-the-same-time stare, and them, her mother comforting her crying father that wailed that “his little girl had grown up”. The three of them demanded at least fifty pictures before they let her go. She loved her family, but the quiet ride there was a respite to gather her thoughts and calm down enough to not make a fool of herself.

So, of course, when she got to the house and saw Adrien in a carefully styled outfit and his father waiting for her on the top of the stairs, she tripped on her heels and was only saved by falling into the hard concrete by the Gorilla’s grip on the back of her dress.

“Marinette.” Adrien said adoringly as she reached the top of the stairs, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

He could be an actor if he wanted. She thought, dazed, as she took the hand he offered her.

“Good evening, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” Gabriel Agreste said, nodding at her.

“Good evening, Mr. Agreste.” She responded, managing to keep her voice from trembling. 

The dining room was excessive, much bigger than she thought it would be needed for a three-people dinner. Adrien, like a gentleman, held her hand till she was seated and sent her a fond look. She barely managed an awkward smile back. It was weird, trying to pretend to be in love with Adrien when she was in love with. Hell, they were dating, he just didn’t know that. Would he recognize her lovesick look as the same he got from Ladybug? That the way their hands fit together was familiar? These questions wouldn’t leave her mind.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, that’s an interesting dress you’re wearing.” Mr. Agreste said as the first course was served. Marinette’s hands immediately went for the right fork as the sound of paper ripping ringed in her ears. “Care to say where you got it?”

“I, uh, designed it myself.” She said, gesturing vaguely. “It’s a new piece.”

“Marinette is a very talented designer.” Adrien said and she puffed up a little, chest full of pride.

“I was not speaking to you, Adrien.” His father said curtly and the light in her boyfriend’s eyes dimmed.

Ah, another reason she wasn’t looking forward to dinner. All of Adrien's friends know him as a very strict and overprotective man, but Ladybug, as Adrien’s girlfriend and constant secret visitor to the Agreste Mansion, knew better. She saw how he constantly put Adrien down, berating him for the slightest mistake and made him cancel plans last minute because of missed notes on a piano performance. Adrien was genuinely scared of his father and if Marinette wasn’t doing this whole thing to help him, she would dump the bowl of hot soup she was now sipping on his father’s lap. 

“But you’re right. The dress is craftily-made.” Mr. Agreste said. “You’re looking for a future in the fashion scene, right, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yes, that’s actually why Adrien and I are dating in secret.” She said, noticing the glint in his eyes. “We don't want anyone to think I’m using him to climb up the scene or anything like that.”

“An admirable effort.” He said and Adrien beamed at her. He really had the prettiest smile in the world, it never failed to raise butterflies in her stomach. “Tell me more about your dress. How did you choose the material?”

The main course continued like that, Marinette and Mr. Agreste talking about fashion and Adrien’s interjections now being welcomed. She got enough pointers and constructive criticisms that her hands itched for a notebook to write it all down. Adrien looked incredibly happy, throwing her sunshine-filled gazes and grasping at her hands every time he wanted to punctuate a sentence. 

I love him. She thought. 

Of course, that’s why it went south before dessert. 

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I must admit that you’re an admirable young woman.” Mr. Agreste said and she allowed her feeling of pride to swell, before he popped it like a balloon at his next words: “And completely unfit for the Agreste Brand image.”

“What?” Adrien and Marinette shouted at the same time, shocked.

“No matter your intentions, the media will see this as a young designer trying to get an advantage in the industry by dating the heir to a fashion empire.” He said simply.

“But it’s not true!” Marinette blurted out.

“It doesn’t matter.” He dismissed, before continuing, voice cruel: “There’s also the problem of your background.”

It felt like someone scooped out Marinette’s stomach and filled the empty space with ice.

“M-my background?”

“Father…” Adrien started, surprisingly firm.

“You’re a baker’s daughter, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, hardly worthy of the Agreste name.” Mr Agreste said, like it wasn’t breaking her heart. “You two have to break up before this… fling tarnishes the family image.”

“Father!” Adrien said, sounding more serious than she ever heard him. “How can you even say something like that?”

Marinette felt like she was underwater, everything felt muffled and Adrien and his father sounded like they were both far away. This couldn’t be happening to her. 

“I… have to go.” She said, getting up from her chair. “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

She left, ignoring Adrien’s calls of her name and running into the streets. Her feet hurt from her shoes, so she stepped into an alley and opened her bag, deaf to Tikki’s reassurances and transformed quickly. She swung through the city before detransforming near her house and coming in the front door, her parents excited inquiries quickly giving away to fretting that left her wrapped in blankets in her room with a tub of ice cream on her lap and a worried Tikki on her hair. 

Thank god Alya already left. Marinette thought. If one more person looked at her with a pitying gaze, she would scream. 

“I’m fine, Tikki. I’m not sad.” It was true, her whole body just felt numb. There wasn’t room for anything else. “I just want to be alone for a moment.”

With that, she climbed up to her balcony, leaving Tikki alone with a phone that was buzzing with dozens of unseen messages.

The cold air nipped at her skin, but she refused to go down and get more blankets. She stared unseeing at the blinking lights of the city. She wanted to stay there and watch them. She wanted to fly through them. Neither felt like enough, so she closed her eyes.

“What’s upsetting such a pretty lady on a pretty night like this?”

She snapped her head to the side at the sound of that voice. A voice she hadn’t heard directed at her since…

“You could at least pretend that you actually think I’m your partner and trust me , how about that?!”

“Chat Noir…” She gasped, hungrily driking in his messy blond hair and grinning mouth that didn’t hide worried his cat-like eyes were. 

Eyes that wouldn’t look into hers since the fight where he found out she told someone her identity and the issues that spiraled from that.

“Hey, Marinette.” He said, sitting down beside her. “So?”

She tilted her head. “So what?”

“What got you so upset?”

“I-I’m not upset.” She said, a tremble escaping into her voice. 

He raised a hand to her cheek, touching gently. She watched, entranced.

“You’re crying.” Chat Noir said, soflty.

“Oh.” Marinette said and it was like a dam broke.

Chat Noir held her as she sobbed, huge tears rolling down her red face as her body trembled. It should feel weird, they only met as Marinette and Chat Noir a handful of times, but her heart knew her partner and could never feel anything but safe in his arms. 

“It’s okay, princess.” He said, the nickname falling easily from his tongue. “Cry all you need.”

And she did, until it seemed like she had, finally, run out. 

“S-sorry.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassured, stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

She sat up, detangling herself from his arms. His eyes flashed with something that she couldn’t quite place.

“I went out to help a friend and it ended up pretty badly.” Marinette said, wiping her cheeks with her blanket. 

“Did you two have a fight?” He asked, oddly subdued.

“Not exactly, it’s not really his fault but… I don’t want to talk to my friend right now.”

Because how could she even begin to explain that it wasn’t Adrien’s fault, but she couldn’t bear to see his face right now? That it was a fake date, but the fact that his father wouldn’t approve of her even if it was real broke her heart? That it wasn’t because of anything she could change and didn’t want to change, anyway, but her essence itself? To look at the guilty face of her friend, her secret boyfriend, wouldn’t help her at all.

“I understand.”

“Because of you and Ladybug?” The words left her mouth before she could think them through. 

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean me and Ladybug?”

“I-I, erm.” She swallowed heavily. “I mean, Alya said you two are probably fighting, since you are going on all-solo patrols and have been kinda stiff during akuma fights.”

He deflated. “I didn’t see anything on the Ladyblog.”

“She wouldn’t put ammunition for Shadow Moth on the Ladyblog.” She defended. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… don’t know?” He looked genuinely confused. “I haven’t really talked about this with anyone but my kwami.”

She was surprised he said that, before realizing he thought she knew what a kwami was because of Mullo and her time as Multimouse. 

“You can vent if you want. You already saw me being all, you know.” She gestured vaguely at herself. “Just say as much as you want.”

“Ladybug and I did have a fight. We don’t let it interfere with our job or anything, but our friendship is kinda on the rocks right.” He said quietly, cat ears dropping. “I can’t tell you why, but sometimes it just feels like I’m not important to her.”

“Of course you are!” She exclaimed, protests falling automatically from her mouth like on hero discussion day at school.

(She was officially banned from debates after she made a student that said Chat Noir sucked cry.)

“Am I really?” He chuckled, self-deprecating. “Everyone thinks Ladybug is the best. I don’t blame them, they’re right. But when they call me a sidekick, they might just be right. She doesn’t see me as her partner, she doesn’t trust me.”

His voice cracked at the end and she wrapped him in her arms. 

“You won’t let me help you, Ladybug.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She said, holding back tears as it was his turn to cry.

He laughed wetly. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

But it is. “I’m still sorry.”

“It's just… I love her.” He said and it ached. “I love her so much but I don’t think she cares about me half as much as I care about her.”

“Of course she does.” Marinette said, but her words sounded weak even to her own ears.

“She doesn’t.” He answered, simply.

“I wish… I wish I could make her love you.” She said, surprising him and herself so much it startled a laugh out of him.

“There’s no need for that, I’m not mad she doesn’t love me like this or anything.” Chat Noir said, honestly. “I just want to know she cares.”

“She cares.” Marinette defended fiercely. “I care.”

His eyes softened. “That means a lot to me, princess.”

Then he took her hand, mindful of his claws, and squeezed. Together, they watched the lights until she fell asleep.

Her heart felt full.

[writing-gifts]

A/N: totally not canon interaction but i wanted to practice some before i try to write anything serious for nimh... also i misremembered how they originally met when i started writing this so i double downed lol

reader is gender neutral

----

The weather was nice today so you had been out and about to prevent yourself from hiding in your home for the rest of the week.

Ever since yesterday, you were stressed for multiple reasons and you were hoping this walk would help take your mind off things. You were currently spending your lunch outside at a restaurant. Unfortunately, you doubt you could eat at a time like this with one of your stressors in plain sight.

You stare at another table a distance away, hiding partly behind a menu to avoid bringing attention to yourself.

What had you on such high alert was the occupant at said table: A rabbit, trying to hold a fork between their paws. But without thumbs it looked to be a very difficult task. The fork falls from their grip once again and they sigh. It looks as if they've given up.

That had to be one of the boys you accidentally cursed at the zoo! You're sure that's the blonde bunny who asked for a refund too. Before you could give it to him though, one of the predators among all the scattering animals got a little too close and he hightailed it. You sigh a bit to yourself. It still seems unreal but that's what really occurred.

So much happened that day including you getting fired. Damn your boss--like it was your fault that you got distracted and passed out the wrong water to the visitors! What type of zoo even needs a magically-cursed water supply anyways!?

You shake your head and put down the menu. This wasn't the time to get even more worked up so you take a deep breath. You hadn't really rehearsed what to say when you found the guys--animals… manimals. How do you even bring up that you accidentally cursed someone, but you could change them back with the power of love?

You get up. You'll just have to tear it off like a bandage. Even if this felt more like a wax strip situation...

Making your way over to the rabbit who was now eating his salad with his paws--which was very cute by the way--you steel yourself.

You give your friendliest smile when you're close enough to show that you don't mean harm. He still tenses up like....well, a rabbit and looks like he wants to bolt. Poor thing, he probably can't control it. Fortunately for you, he doesn't actually run.

"Uh hello, I'm sorry to interrupt your meal. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I noticed that you're an...animal."

"O-Oh that's quite okay." A kind sounding voice comes from the rabbit, which was pretty well fitting actually. "You don't usually see rabbits trying to use utensils so I can see why you'd find this strange. You don't ever see them doing that actually, as far as I know."

You wave off the idea. "Trust me, I don't find it strange at all."

"Really? I'm still trying to get used to it myself. You see I'm not usually like--" he motions to his furry body "--this."

"Actually, that's why I'm here. I think I can help you with your predicament! Do you remember the day you changed at the zoo? I was the worker there passing out water at the entrance. You asked me for a refund."

He tilts his head and his nose twitches. Again, cute but this wasn't the time for that. You hold your hands behind your back so you don't accidentally try to reach out and pet him.

"Right! I remember you just before the...panther."

You grimace. That must have been extremely frightening for him so you can't help feeling guilty. You would definitely make sure to fix this and you had words for that panther. Once you found him.

"Well you see…I might have been the cause. The water I gave was apparently magically-cursed water and-and now all these guys are animals! Somehow, I have to change them back with the power of friendship--wait no--love! I'm not even sure how that works though, but this little creature told me to...so yeah."

You stop yourself from rambling any further.

The rabbit stares at you wide eyed and his little laugh sounds very unsure. "...Umm I don't know what to say to that, but I suppose that's not so far fetched considering that magic is apparently real."

"Wait, so you believe me?"

"I guess I don't not believe you. Er sorry for the double negative. I'm not exactly jumping for joy at being a rabbit. And better hearing is definitely not worth the trade-off of opposable thumbs. So I would like to try out your plan at least."

"Oh wow...Okay, cool!"

With that out of the way you calm down a considerable amount. You hadn't expected him to accept the idea so quickly. Maybe this whole magical animal quest would be a piece of cake!

"Let's go on a date then. That would be a good way to start to get you to fall for me!"

You need to find a new job stat.

He looks kind of bashful but nods. "That sounds like a good first step."

"Oh wait, I totally forgot about names. I'm ____. What's yours?"

"Nimh."

"Well nice to meet you Nimh. I'm sorry I turned you into an animal. And even though this has definitely caused you much trouble, you do make a very cute bunny."

You'd never seen a rabbit blush but here you were. And it was absolutely adorable.

Oh powers that be, give me strength.

"Well gosh. Thank you ____...I think?"

"You're very welcome." You sit down at his table. "This can be our pre-date."

Nimh chuckles a bit at your lame attempt at a joke and you think you already like him.

"By the way..."

You immediately put all your attention on the rabbit. Scratch the 'think'. You definitely like him (if your urgency to please him said anything).

"Why would a zoo have magically-cursed water for?" he asks.

"Oh my god, that's what I've been wondering!"

[sincerelyasomebody]

All That Glitters || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF Credit: @merakiaes)

A/N: Jose will be used in the form of Sad Eyes' name, as far as I know his actual name hasn't been revealed in the show. I tried my best to correct any mistakes I could find. I am not a native Spanish speaker, translations will be at the bottom. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks! 

Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader ▪︎ OC x Reader (past relationship)

Summary: A family get-together turns into an emotional rollercoaster. 

Warnings: angsty, fluff, language, mentions of cheating, talks of death, unsupportive mother and stepfather

Word Count: 2419

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Nana Helen and Papa Victor were absolutely adored by their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Not only adored but highly respected.

Therefore introducing a significant other to them was a big deal. It was something only done if you saw yourself with that person in the long run. 

And (Y/N) saw a future with Jose. 

Sure, she had other relationships before he came along but they didn't reach this step. The furthest they ever got was her parents and siblings. So, when her relationship developed a connection she had never experienced, she knew it was only right to introduce him to the people who meant the world to her. 

From her spot in the kitchen, she looked into the living room and smiled as he sat with her nana on the couch. The old woman had pulled out the photo albums, pointing to each picture and telling the story behind it. Her papa in the armchair in the corner beside them.

Her nieces and nephews were spread across the floor in front of the t.v, immersed in the world that was Despicable Me. 

She could hear the laughter of her younger cousins upstairs. Not a doubt in her mind that they were doing Tik Tok videos. Her siblings were probably with them, she concluded, if the sound of a slap and a shout of her brother's name was anything to go by. 

The uncles and a few of her boy cousins were sitting in the backyard, sipping on beers and talking about Mike Tyson coming out of retirement. She was sure Jose would join them after talking with her grandparents. 

Which left her in the kitchen and dining room area with her mother, aunts and girl cousins. 

"You shouldn't have brought him." 

With a heavy sigh, she turned around and faced her mother, "not this again." She walked over to the sink to wash her hands before helping to chop up the vegetables for the salad. "He's my boyfriend."

Pauline looked at her daughter, "he's a gang member, (Y/N)."

She dumped the cut up vegetables into a salad bowl, "Ash, make yourself useful." She held out the bowl and large wooden fork and spoon. The girl in question stood up, with a huff pocketing her phone, and grabbed the outstretched items. 

When (Y/N) introduced Jose to her mother, Frank (she refused to call the man her mother married a month after the death of her father, dad), her brothers Samuel and Anthony, she didn't hide the fact he was a Santo. Although they lived a couple towns over, it wasn't hard to know the gang that ran (protected, she corrected) Freeridge. 

But, she didn't care. 

He was known as Sad Eyes, the feared right-hand man of the gang leader Spooky, in the streets. If there were issues he was sent to deal with them. He was also known as Jose, a momma's boy with a big heart and an appetite to match. He'd go to the ends of the Earth to make sure his family was taken care of. 

(Y/N) accepted both sides of him. 

But, most of all she loved both sides of him. 

Without another word, she walked into the living room and plopped herself next to her man. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

"Everything okay, mi alma?" 

She nodded, "yeah, don't worry about it." 

Helen beamed at the interaction, "oooh." She looked at her husband, "Vic look at our grandbaby." 

"I see her." He replied with a chuckle, "and she looks as happy as she was when she got that twenty dollars from the tooth fairy. Maybe even happier." 

(Y/N) buried her face into the crook of Jose's neck, causing a round of laughter from the three.

When the call for everybody to come to the dining room, (Y/N) and Jose got up off the couch. Jose helped Helen up, to which she patted his hand as a thank you. Victor waved him off when he tried to offer his hand, choosing to use his walking stick instead. They walked to where the food was, (Y/N) stayed behind to gather the little ones together.

"Lucas and Bryson," she called out to the eight year olds, they were the oldest of the bunch, "go upstairs and tell them it's time to eat." 

They nodded and sprinted to the staircase.

She picked up Melody, the three year old, who had fallen asleep on the ground, told the rest of the kids to get going and switched off the t.v. She followed them and handed Mel off to her dad, her cousin Micah. He thanked her and she walked over to Jose, taking his hand in hers. 

"Thank you all for coming." Helen looked at her family, all managing to squeeze into the dining room and kitchen, "Jose, thank you for being here." 

Jose smiled at her, "thank you for having me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but grin at him, which got a few teasing words from the cousins. She laughed along with them, just happy that her grandma had accepted him. 

Victor spoke up, "yes, we're thankful for family," his eyes scanned over to Jose, "we're also thankful to have found someone who loves our (Y/N) very much. So, Jose, thank you… you don't know how much it truly means to see her happy." 

He responded with a nod, (Y/N) grinning wider if that was even possible. She was extremely elated, she just received the stamp of approval from her favourite people. 

"Te amo," she whispered. 

He bent down and pecked her lips, "Te amo." 

Victor led the family in prayer, before they dished out their meals. 

Loud chatter between the cousins occurred as they tried to decide what to grab, parents telling their children to get some salad and the grandparents making sure there was enough food for everyone. 

Before (Y/N) could grab herself and Jose a plate, the doorbell rang. 

Pauline rushed towards the front door. (Y/N), just like everybody else, was confused as the entire family had already been accounted for. That didn't stop them from wanting to see who it was though. 

When Pauline stepped back into the view of everyone with her ex boyfriend, Colby, by her side (Y/N) thought she might lose it. 

Thankfully, before she could say anything Samuel spoke up.

"What the fuck?" 

Pauline glared in his direction, "watch your mouth." 

Helen and Victor were confused with his behaviour, because Samuel knew better than to cuss in their home. 

"Samuel, listen to your mother." Helen reprimanded, "you know I don't like cussing." 

"Sorry, nana." He apologised, "but it's fucked up that mum would bring (Y/N)'s ex boyfriend to a family get-together while she's here with her current boyfriend." 

Anthony piped up, "straight up, disrespectful." 

Everyone looked back and forth between (Y/N) and the newcomer. 

(Y/N) glanced over at Jose, noticing his clenched jaw, she rubbed her thumb over his hand and stood on her toes to peck his cheek. 

He knew Pauline didn't like him, but he didn't think she'd pull something like this. Unfortunately for her, he and (Y/N) were solid. 

Colby held his hands up, "I didn't come here to cause any drama." His eyes focused on (Y/N), "I just want to talk to (Y/N)." 

She took a deep breath, "nana and papa, I'm sorry." She looked back at Colby, "fuck no," looking over at her mum, "fuck you," and then at Frank, "and fuck you, too 'cause I know you had something to do with it." tugging on Jose's hand, she moved through the kitchen, "we're leaving."

As they passed through the kitchen, living room and through the front door, (Y/N) ranting along the way.

"What the fuck was she thinking? That Colby would show up and I'd dump you to be with him," she threw her hands in the air, "no fucking way! As soon as I caught him cheating, it was a wrap."

They looked back over at the house, the (L/N) family plus one scrambling out of the door. They stayed on the porch except for Pauline, Frank, Colby, Helen and Victor who marched towards them. They both straightened up, waiting for what was to come. 

"(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!" screeched Pauline, "what's wrong with you." 

"Me? What's wrong with you? Why would you bring Colby here? What the fuck was going through your head to make you think that this was a good idea?" 

"He's better than -" 

She shook her head, "He's a fucking piece of shit "

"(Y/N), your mum was just -" 

"Shut up, Frank." She hissed, "nobody asked for your input." 

"Don't talk to him like that." 

"I can talk to him however the fuck I want." 

Pauline growled, "this is ridiculous," she turned to her parents, "he's in a gang! A c-criminal! You do know that right?" 

"Wow, (Y/N)... really?" Colby smirked.

(Y/N) glared at him, "why the fuck are you still here? Seriously, fuck off." 

"I want to -" 

"Yeah, I know what you want but you aren't getting anything from me." She cut him off, "so go away."

When he stepped towards her, Jose immediately jumped in front of her, blocking him from getting closer, "back up." 

Colby laughed, "what? You wanna fight?"

"Back up," he repeated, "last warning." 

Helen and Victor carefully watched the exchange, they already approved of Jose, even before Pauline exclaimed he was in a gang - they already knew. He told them himself and while it did make them uncomfortable, their opinion about him didn't change. If anything, they respected him for coming clean in the first place.

Out of all the grandchildren, (Y/N) spent the most time with them. 

They watched her grow from a curious child to a reserved teenager. She isolated herself when her father died and it worried them to no end. But they allowed her to grieve in whatever way she wanted. And as she grew into the woman she was today, their worries about her finding somebody worthy of her attention had vanished upon meeting Jose.

They couldn't have wished for a better person for their grandbaby to be with.

"Okay, boys that's enough." Victor spoke up, "Colton -"

"Colby." 

" - whatever your name is, move away from my granddaughter or else I'll have to deal with you," he exclaimed. 

Colby moved back to stand with Pauline and Frank, whereas Jose stood beside (Y/N). 

"(Y/N) and Jose, please come back inside." Helen gestured towards the house, "please?"

"It's fine, nana." (Y/N) replied. "We're just gonna head off, I… I'm, uh… I'm sorry for causing -"

She shook her head, "sweetpea, don't apologise." Her eyes wandered over to her daughter, "it's your mother who should be apologising." 

"Did you not hear me when I said she's with a criminal?" exclaimed Pauline. 

"As long as my grandbaby is happy, I'm happy." Helen replied, "well, I better get you both a to-go plate." 

Before (Y/N) could protest, she was walking away with Victor by her side. She laughed when her cousins scrambled over each other to move out of the way. Her laughter was cut short by Frank.

"Are you sure you want to be with Jose? Like, really sure? Have you met his family? Do you see yourself -" 

"Please, shut up." (Y/N) responded, "just shut up." 

"I'm not going to repeat myself, (Y/N)." Pauline threatened. 

She shrugged her shoulders, "then don't." Her eyes narrowed, "I'm sick of your bullshit. Get it through your head and accept that Jose and I are together." 

"Why? When I know you can do better."

(Y/N) scoffed, "really?"

"Yes! I'm your mother which -"

"Which means shit, absolute shit." She responded, "I'm done with you, Pauline. I-I can't keep going back and forth with you."

"What does that mean?" 

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough." 

"Okay, when have I ever -" 

"When I twisted my ankle in soccer, you told me it was because I wasn't made for it. When I joined the writing club in high school, you told me it was stupid. When I chose to become an elementary school teacher, you told me that I should've become a doctor or a nurse instead." She listed, her jaw clenched, "there's other shit you've done, but I'm too upset to think about them. The main theme of it all is this - nothing I've ever done and probably will do is good enough, in your eyes." 

During this time the grandparents had resurfaced onto the scene. Jose accepted the tupperware with thanks and placed it in the car. He stepped aside and watched the scene unfold. He knew (Y/N)'s relationship with her mother was rocky, so he knew that she needed to get some things off her chest.

Pauline scoffed, "quit being dramatic, (Y/N)." 

She took a deep breath, tears blurring her vision which she rubbed away. "See, that right there is another issue in itself. Whenever I express my feelings, you blow them off! A-and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of your bullshit, it ends now!" 

"Stop the theatrics." 

"I don't want anything to do with you," she affirmed.

(Y/N) walked around her to reach her grandparents but was stopped by Colby, "move of my way." 

"Please, just hear -" 

"My girl says move, you move." Jose asserted, eyes blazing. 

Colby, finally admitting defeat, moved aside.

She kissed both of their cheeks and pulled them into a hug, "thank you for accepting Jose, it means a lot."

"He loves our grandbaby." Helen exclaimed, "a done deal," 

Victor held out his hand to Jose, "you take care of her." 

"With my life," Jose replied, giving him a firm shake.

With a promise to come back and visit, the pair walked back over to the car. Jose held her door open, (Y/N) pecked his cheek and got in. When he reached the drivers' side they buckled up.

But of course, Pauline couldn't let them leave without saying something.

"You're choosing him over this family?" 

"I'm choosing to be happy," (Y/N) corrected, leaning her head out the window, "I love you crazies, I'll keep in touch." 

And with the shouts of goodbyes from her family, Jose pulled onto the open road. 

With a bright smile, Jose's hand in hers and the low hum of the radio, (Y/N) felt at peace.

- ♤ - ��� - ◇ - ♧ -

Spanish Translation(s):

Mi alma - my soul

Te amo - I love you

[katsukikitten]

Ready Set COOK!

A/N have this random ass fic I cranked out cause I watched some food network. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

"Y/N is arguable the best cook in the dorms." Mina says salivating over the thought of dinner as 1A figures out what they are going to try to convince you to make.

"Tch. Yea fucking right. I cook the best!" Bakugou chimes in suddenly flipping through the channels with fever.

"Ha!" You laugh dryly, "Maybe when I'm having a bad day."

He grinds his teeth as he glares at you, channel surfing forgotten.

"Let's settle this." He snarls although he barely moves from his lounging position.

"How do you declare we do that spicy boi?" A hush suddenly falls over the room at your most recent and his most hated nickname.

Explosions threaten to pop but the TV blares before he can.

"THIS WEEK ON COOK OFF!"

"OH OH!" Kirishima pipes in, jumping up to point at the TV frantically.

"Fuck no." Bakugou bites out, sending daggers the red heads way.

"Oh come on Bakugou it will be fun!" He whines only to be shut down again. This time with an explosion. The hot head jumps to his feet with smoking hands.

"I SAID FUCK NO!"

"Why? Too scared you'll get your ass kicked?" You prompt, looking at your nails as you speak. He stalks your way leaning over you as you sit on the couch.

"I'm too scared you'll lose so badly you'll have to commit seppuku to regain your honor." The tension is palpable in the large living room, making some of the students feel small from its weight.

"Oh so you admit you worry about me?" You say in your most flirtatious voice, placing your hand onto his shoulder because you love to get under his skin. He jerks back with crazed eyes.

"I don't give a fuck about any of you extras!"

"Good! Now we need judges. Todoroki?" You ask but Bakugou shakes his head.

"His palette is as expanded as a fucking toddler's." The ash blonde shakes his head, "Mother fucker eats cold soba for breakfast lunch AND dinner."

"Ouch." An invisible arrow pierces the two toned boy in the chest.

"Well..." You look around the room, "It can't be biased..."

"Deku? Oh no wait then you'll use him as an *excuse* when you lose." You giggle, his cheeks burn from the sound.

"Fuck you and fuck Deku." He snarls, "What about Shinso?"

"Aaahh that's a good one. He hates everyone equally." You chime in, placing your hand in your chin as you look over your peers.

"Wow glad you noticed." He rolls his amethyst eyes although he does not object.

"Oh Denki!" You point at the electric

"OMG YES MY TIME TO SHINE BABY!" He fists his hands into the pants of your legs, so happy to be included.

"NO! Not pikachu! His brain is FRIED!" Bakugou snarls and Denki let's out a sad 'hey' while a crocodile tear rolls down his cheek.

"Yes, that's what would make him the best wild card! You'll never know what he's gonna think!" You absentmindedly let your hand pet over the curve of his skull.

Part of you wonders if suggesting him is a bad idea. Your eyes flicker to the TV just to see someone asking the sweating chefs what they are planning.

"Kirishima can be the host!" You say with excitement, "Now we just need one more judge. Someone who likes to eat."

Silence settles over the room aside from the now low roar of the TV

"I've got it!" Your new ruby eyed host pipes in, "I'll ask Sun Eater senpai!"

"He's so meek. How are you going to get him to agree?" You ask as a some what devilish smile crosses his face.

"Oi, I forgot you came in after. Poor guy got pestered by shitty hair until he said yes to taking him to his agency." Bakugou crosses his arms.

"We'll compete tomorrow! I've got to prepare!" You stare after Kirishima who runs to get his phone, you cant see him bullying someone into helping him.

×××××××××

You had never been proven more wrong as you stand in the dorms over sized kitchen in front of the panel of judges.

Shinso who looks bored, Denki who reminds you of a kid hopped up on sugar and a petrified Tamaki.

"Welcome chefs!" Kirishima announces, it's funny how quickly he made the kitchen look much like the studio. Even forcing you and Bakugou into real chef jackets while Kirishima wears one of his suits.

"Oi, you really went all out." He growls, somehow making the compliment sound like an insult. You roll your eyes before you let them linger over Bakugou. Much like you he wears the black jacket with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, he has a towel resting over a broad shoulder.

Somehow this outfit makes your cheeks burn. You swallow, looking out over the "live" audience, aka class 1A with every chair they could find in the dorm piled into the smallest part of the kitchen.

Sitting on the edges of their seats.

"Today the two of you will be placed head to head agaisnt one another to become UA's top chef!" Kirishima announces with gusto even earning a small cheer from the audience.

"Tonights prize does not only include bragging rights BUT this!" He gestures widely to the obviously paper mache trophy, Bakugou snorts.

"Really? You could have asked Momo over there?" He points in the dark and Kirishima blushes a bit. Although he is saved as Momo walks towards the front, not breaking the attire with her long sleep dress that looks more like a ball room gown. Kirishima thanks her silently before punching the old trophy off with the new one.

"Who will when this amazing trophy and the title of UA's top chef?" Kirishima looks to the audience before adding, "Let's find out!"

"Contestants, today's challenge is broken down into three parts. Appetizer, entree and dessert! The three dishes must meld flawlessly with one another! You have ten minutes to look over the ingredients and come up with a meal plan. Starting.....now!"

The two of you jump, pulling open at the two large fridges behind you to be met with an array of vegetables and meats.

"Are they like timed?" Shinso asks, as he twirls his fork.

"Good question, Shinso. Yes each portion of the competition will be timed!"

As you begin to put together your game plan you rush towards the pantry. Fear making you hesitate, the pantry was mostly empty just yesterday.

"Oi! Open the fucking door!" A yell behind you before you rip open the cabinet with blatant rage.

Surprisingly the pantry is popping at the seams, ingredients pop out at you that you hastily grab.

"Chefs your time is up! You have fifteen minutes to begin prepare your first dish! GO!"

Excitement pushes your body into motion as you slice bacon strips down the middle. Your thoughts compete with the vigorous chopping from the station next to you as you delicately wrap sliced puff pastry around the now bacon wrapped asparagus.

"Chef Bakugou what are you preparing?"

"Use your fucking eyes." He growls, adding something to a bowl.

"Hey..." Kirishima sounds crestfallen, almost hurt and its hurt enough for Katuski to sigh.

"Alright alright. I'll tell you. Stop pouting!" He chops into a radish harshly to emphasize his point before going on.

"I believe its important to go a little on the lighter side for a starter. Almost refreshing cleanses the palette." Your ears perk at his deep voice as you pull your starter from the oven, "So I'm making a radish and cucumber salad with rice vinager and chili flakes for a small kick."

"It looks wonderful chef!" Kirshima comments before adding, "Five minutes to plate!"

"Shit..." You hiss to yourself as you delicately arrange your asparagus twists, while popping hands roast sesame seeds in an instant before tossing them into the salad.

The two if you plate, arrange and present until kirishima finally shouts

"TIMES UP! STEP AWAY FROM THE PLATES!" Both of you back away with raised hands.

"First up. Y/N-chan." Kirishima says happily as the judges look over their food.

Shinso takes a bite first.

"Flavorful. Savory. Its delicious." Is all he offers as he eats his second.

"Kaminari?" Kirishima prompts. Denki is smiling ear to ear before a rare seriousness washes over his features as he chews.

"I dont like asparagus." He states with a harsh tone.

"IM FUCKED!" You scream internally.

"But you've made me like it."

"IM UNFUCKED!"

Kaminari takes another bite, thinking it over

"The puff pastry is airy and buttery and surprisingly the bacon is crispy without your vegetable drying out. Very well done."

You glance at Bakugou who mouths

"Is he fucking Gorden Ramsey now?" To which you giggle.

"Tamaki senpai, please do not judge on usefulness for your quirk but by taste." Kirishima encourages as Tamaki almost shrinks away. He takes a bite before smiling.

"I..its delicious. Togata would enjoy this."

"Next up Bakugou!"

"Nice kick, cool cuc flavor. I like it." Shinso nods to Bakugou as he makes a mark in on the pad provided.

"Honestly, Chef Katsuki. I was really worried about the heat level when I saw your heavy handed toss of pepper flakes into the salad. But the flakes really bring out the tang of the rice vinager, the smoky flavor of the sesame seed while the radish and cucumber take the edge away *just* enough." Kaminari says before taking another bite, scribbling as he chews.

This time Bakugou looks to you and you laugh aloud at his bewildered scarlet eyes.

"Just got with it!" You call from your station. Struggling to keep your giggle.

Who knew confusion could look so cute?

"Its just the right amount of spice. Togata would enjoy this."

"Take your station, Katsuki as we will now begin the main course. You have thirty five minutes to prepare!"

Time ticks by faster than you'd like as your watched pot of water finally boils. You add in chopped golden potatoes setting a timer before butter flying your chicken breasts for a more even cook and better grilled sear.

Bakugou works furiously with his steak, pounding at it to quickly tenderize it, adding an aromatic garlic herb butter to a heated pan. He swirls the melting blob until it coats the bottom of the pan.

Both of you are about to start your meats before Kirishima breaks your concentration.

"Chefs! I've found an ingredient you HAVE to incorporate into your main dish." He presents a rectangular package that has you seething.

"KIRISHIMA WHAT THE FUCK?!" You both yell in unison, slamming your meats on your cutting boards.

"Dry packs of ramen noodles!" He announces in case either of you couldn't read the damn packaging!

"What the fuck?" Is all the two of you can say as you're tossed the package of ramen noodles. You stare at your dish, you couldn't easily shift your meal plan into Asian like Bakugou could thanks to his universal salad. The dishes had to be cohesive and you had fucking POTATOES BOILING TO BE MASHED

You stare almost stunned as the red rectangle stares back at you.

You hated ramen.

Meanwhile Bakugou grumbles to himself as he slices his steak into thin strips, adding ginger, a bit of sesame seed oil, green onion and some beef broth to boil.

He tosses in the package of ramen.

"This is cheap shit." He grumbles to himself before adding the steak in a few moments later slamming a lid onto the pan. He was lucky he picked a deep pan as opposed to his original idea of a shallow one.

"Half of the time is remaining chefs!"

"Perfect!" You slam your fist into your palm as you make haste. Quickly grabbing eggs, milk, flour and the food processor.

You begun to crush the noodles until they become a fine grain.

"Eji do we have to use the stupid flavor packet?"

"Fucking why would you ask?!" Bakugou snarls your way, ruby red eyes slide to the panel.

"Judges?"

"No." They answer in unison and you both sigh in relief. For you it would have been hard to incorporate to your sudden idea of fried chicken while the flavoring would be too salty and undercut the flavor building he had done for his dish.

You mash your potatoes, adding in garlic cloves, cubes of butter, a bit of season salt all before emulsifying it to a whipped state.

"Five minutes chefs!"

You begin to really sweat now, you didnt want to rush your chicken for fear of the batter not becoming crispy enough or worse yet an undercooked breast.

"Three minutes chefs!"

"Fuck! Cook chicky cook!" You mumble to the fryer, scarlet eyes shift to your bouncing frame, plating his own food, swiping juices that splatter.

"Come on plate damn it! It's done!" He shouts to you.

"You *do* care!" You tease, although your heart is in your throat as you place the chicken onto the plate, drizzling a honied mustard over the breasts.

"Like hell. It's just winning by default is boring. I want to watch them spit your food out." His voice comes out soaking in malice but his eyes say otherwise. Mischief and excitement dance along his scarlet iris.

"AND TIME!" You both step away from your plates. Breathing heavily as the two of you look down at your master pieces.

Bakugou places his hand on the small of your back to guide you in front of the panel as Kirishima grabs your dishes.

"Bakugou you're up first."

"This is not thirty cent ramen." Is all Shinso says as he slurps up the noodles before biting into the beef. No one misses his eyes flutter.

"Wow." Is all Kaminari can say chewing with delight, "Just wow. I would have thought the noodles were homemade. The beef is tender, all cooked evenly. The sauce flavorful, a hit of ginger and I'm surprised you hadn't added any heat. I would have loved to have seen a five alarm ramen from you."

Bakugou grinds his teeth to keep from shouting at his last remark.

"Togata would enjoy this."

"I'll be sure to make him a to go plate." Kirishima winks before presenting your dish.

"I never would have thought to use ramen as breeding." Purple eyes glitter as he devours the chicken.

"Me either. Its excellently light, you matured everyone's favorite honey mustard by making it with a sharper brown mustard and the potatoes are soft, beautifully whipped and garlicy!"

"This is 'southern food?'" Tamaki asks, "Togata would like it."

You smile warmly.

"Last round chefs! You'll have forty five minutes to prepare a dessert with *this* ingredient." He holds up a green can and your stomach sinks.

"Is that fucking wasabi?" Bakugou snarls, even the heat king is stunned.

"Yes chef it is. Please incorporate this ingredient into your dish. Starting...NOW!"

You stare at the green can. What in the actual fuck? Maybe you should have made a menu more geared towards Asian cuisine.

I mean you were in FUCKING JAPAN AFTER ALL.

You snatch onto the can, now was not the time to damn yourself. You could do this. You could beat Bakugou!

Even if it killed you.

You decided to taste it, youd never actually had it, just knew that it was potent.

"That's too much idiot!" Bakugou yells from his station just as your about to put a heaping teaspoon into your mouth.

"Like scoop with a chop stick." He says, showing you himself. His chopstick dips into the wasabi to return with the smallest of green.

You mimic him, popping it into your mouth as instant regret washes over you as you try to break down the components of the flavor.

It was hot with underlying notes of freshness, almost herbal as the heat began to fade.

But with that regret comes an idea.

You work vigorously grabbing all the chocolate you can find before making a batch of brownies, wasabi mixed into the batter.

Nothing was more southern than cake or a brownie.

"I'll fucking tell you what..." You finish the thought aloud as you worked.

All the while Bakugou glances to you with concerned eyes before he measures out the perfect amount of coconut milk to reduce with almond milk, a split vanilla pod, some sugar, honey and wasabi powder.

Soon his odd mixture becomes fragrant, the freshness of it competing with the richness of baking brownies.

Time ticks by too quickly as you snatch the wasabi powder from Bakugou adding the smallest amount to powdered sugar, cocoa and milk as you make the frosting to your brownies.

You feel like you're ahead of time as your plate, eyes looking over to Bakugou who is garnishing ramekins with edible flowers and flakes of coconut.

"Fuck." You murmur before pipping on some icing. Smoothing it out with a knife. Plating it as Kirishima obnoxiously counts down.

"Time!" He yells. You're shaking before glancing at Bakugou who seems nervous himself. Again he guides you to the panel, you lean into him for a bit of support.

Your heart was racing, sweat still dripping down the nape of your neck and beading on your brow.

You couldn't tell who's dishes they favored and there was a chance you could very well lose.

You'd hate to admit but Bakugou's station smelt fucking amazing all night.

"Y/N!" Kirishima smiles a wide tooth smile, "Wasabi brownies. Interesting."

"You mean fucking fire." Shinso says.

"Its astounding how the chocolate adds to the heat with out one overpowering the other. A delicate scale was balanced today."

You find Bakugou's hand by his side. giving it a squeeze to keep yourself form laughing. He leans towards you and whispers into your ear.

"Bet you're regretting adding Flavor Town onto the board."

A giggle escapes your lips that drives Katuski mad.

"Togata would love this! Please save a square for him!"

The judges cleanse their palates before moving into Bakugou's dessert.

"So delicate." Shino adds, looking down at the purple flowers.

"Watch it." He bites but you again squeeze his hand, this time whispering to him

"That means he likes it. You did an amazing job plating."

He watches you smile as you drink in their comments about *his * dish.

"I like that you start and finish things with a refreshing yet memorable dish. The edible flowers add immense color to this dish, the wasabi heightens the sweetness of the honey and the coconut flakes add a little bit of both crunch and depth. Excellent."

"So pretty..." Tamkai stares at his dessert before adding a small bite into his mouth. His eyes flutter and you know then that you've lost.

That's two different judges with different meals that he has impressed. He squeezes your hands, you look up to him expecting a smug smile only to see nervousness.

"The judges will now debate. Please sit in the waiting room while they discuss who will be UA's top chef!"

"Where the fuck is that?" The blonde snarls.

"The living room!" He whispers as you drag an agitated Bakugou with you.

The two of you sit in silence, sinking into the couches with tired bodies.

Adrenaline can do that to you. Minutes tick by before you sigh out.

"I'm pretty sure you won. You..." You gush, "Amazing. That salad looked so damn good!"

Katuski cannot help the smile that spreads across his face as he watches you sing his praises.

"Honestly your southern dishes were something new to them. That's far better and seriously ramen as a breeding? Innovative as fuck." He sags in the couch closer to you. The two of you half fighting over who really one by pointing out the best moves the other did.

Gradually gravitating closer to one another with heatedexcitement fueled by friendly competition. The two of you are butting foreheads as you argue.

"But the flowers were stunning...." The vigor in your tone dies down as you stare into something else that else stunning.

Scarlet eyes sparkle like gems in the low light of the side table lamps. Suddenly you are hyper aware of your proximity to him. You try to scoot back only for your hip to hit the arm of the couch, barely moving a centimeter. You were safely nestled between the couch and his amazingly muscular arms.

Bakugou swallows his desire as he drinks you in this close, having never realizing how pretty you actually were.

Add that to your ability to kick ass on the battle field and in the kitchen had Bakugou looking at you in a whole new light. He seems to choke on his desire as one strong hand finds the nape of your neck.

"I bet nothing tastes as delicious as your lips." He says before pressing his own to yours.

The saying alone has your body flushed and a small whimper erupts in the back of your throat as you closed your eyes.

Shit.

You liked arrogant, smart mouthed, excellent chef handsome ass Bakugou.

And now that you've tasted him, you'll never want to eat anything else again.

You kiss him back with matched passion and the two of you forget about the competition for a moment. Foot steps had the two of you breaking apart, cheeks burning brighter than the boy's hair whose entered the living room just missing everything.

"They are ready to announce the winner." He turns on his heel, expecting the two of you to follow. Both of you share a look before standing. Bakugou wraps his arm around your waist pulling you close to him so he can whisper in the cockiest tone he can muster.

"After they announce me as winner. Let me make you dessert."

@we-starlight-in-the-making @kiribakuho @babybakuu @zbops @crimsondream-1 @alwaysmy crazy ass did it. I made the fic I wanted

[tsukikoayanosuke]

A Spoonful of Help

Summary:

Jonah knew he should be happy when someone finally asked him to go on a fancy dinner date, but there's just one problem: he's an uncultured pirate who doesn't understand why we need so many forks.

(7 Leaders, 7 Prompts Challenge! by @rainebowkitty​ )

"He asked me on a date."

All conversations that happened around the table of first-years suddenly stopped which was something that Jonah didn't want to happen.

"And...?" Ace asked and now Jonah just wanted to burry himself. This is so embarrassing...

Jonah took a deep breath before letting it out from his mouth. "I said 'yes'."

Ace was the first one to respond to it, laughing and slapping Jonah's back. "Hahaha! Way to go, captain! You're one step closer to marrying him!"

"No! No marriage yet!" Jonah buried his red face into his palm. "Just shut up!"

"Wow, Jonah. I’m happy for you!" cheered Deuce. "You two are actually a good couple."

Jonah's face went red. "Geez..."

"When is this date?" Jack asked.

"This Saturday," Jonah groaned. "He invited me for dinner at the Bella Notte."

"Isn't that, like, the fanciest restaurant in town?" Ace asked to with Jonah nodded. The ginger-boy whistled. "Oo~ He's going all out~"

Jonah groaned again. "What am I going to do? I can't take back the invitation!"

"What's wrong?" asked Jack again.

Jonah made some funny gestures with his hands. "All of these. Look at me! There is no way I can fit in a fancy situation like that. I'll embarrass him!"

"You're a gentleman captain, aren't you?" Epel pointed out.

Jonah groaned again. "But that doesn't mean I know table manners. What if I accidentally pick up the wrong knife? Or worst, what if I accidentally eat spaghetti with a spoon?"

Ace raised an eyebrow at him. "There is no way you would do that?"

Epel winched at that. "I don't know Ace... A salad fork actually looks like a hybrid of a fork and spoon..."

"What am I supposed to do?" Jonah said, hands running through his hair.

"Hey, if you don't want that, you can just ask me to take your place," Grim suggested. "I'm not complaining if he pays for the food."

"That is inappropriate!" Sebek exclaimed. He then turned to Jonah. "This is very important. So you need preparation!"

Jonah looked at him with a questioning look. "Preparation?"

Sebek nodded. "Practice with someone who knows table manners well. Pick your best make-up and clothes. Write down every pick-up line you can think of. Buy a ring."

Jonah's face went red again. "I told you: no marriage yet!"

"Hey, that sound like something a Pomefiore kid would be great in," Ace said, glancing at Epel.

Epel raised an eyebrow at him. "Hey. Only because I came from Pomefiore that doesn't mean I remember all the rules." He pointed Ace with his fork. "This coming from a Heartslabyul student who can't remember all 810 rules."

"Then why don't you ask Senior Vil?" Jack suggested. "I mean, he's the Pomefiore Prefect. Surely he would gladly help."

"You think so?" Jonah asked, unsure.

"Oh, he will," Epel said. "I'll talk to him. He'll never pass an opportunity to teach rowdy boys how to be a gentleman."

Jonah sighed. "Fine. I'll try."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I've heard everything from Epel."

Jonah sighed looking up to the Pomefiore Prefect. "Thank you for agreeing to help me."

Vil's lips pulled to a small smile. "A pleasure, Mister Argentum. Now." He reached for the handle of the door. "Shall we began?" He opened the door, revealing the grand dining room of Pomefiore. The table was filled with various food and drink.

"Senior Schoenheit." Jonah turned to the senior. "Isn't this a bit too much?"

"Nonsense!" Vil said as he pushed Jonah to the head of the table. "If you want this to be perfect, you need to practice with every possible food you can eat! One bite at the time!"

"But there are so many!" Jonah exclaimed.

"Tut-tut!" Vil pushed Jonah down to the chair. He took out a riding crop from the sleeve of his kimono. "Now, sit up straight."

"Why do you have a riding corp?!"

Vil smacked the riding corp to the table, earning a winched from the eye-patch boy. "Don't raise your voice." He tapped the riding corp at Jonah's thigh. "Be sure to keep your legs close. Predators are everywhere."

"Wha-"

Vil smacked the riding crop again. "Pay attention now."

The older boy started to explain the setting of the tableware in front of him, pointing at each fork from the closest to the three stacks plates, showing how to hold the five different glass they use to drink, even helping him putting the napkin around his neck.

The good part about this practice was that Jonah was able to taste various food. Who knew that you could eat snails. Even the salad dressing was quite delicious.

"Don't slurp on your soup," Vil warned.

"Sorry," Jonah said in a low voice before lowered his spoon, he was about to wipe his mouth with his sleeve but Vil smacked his hand with his riding crop.

"Ow!"

"Use your napkin. And don't just wipe it in one go. Gently pated at the lips and chin."

"You know, the way you said it seems like you suggesting something."

"Don't you sass me, young man." Vil then picked up the bowl of french onion soup and exchange it with a plate of sole meuniere. "Now. Which fork and knife should you use?"

Jonah looked at the fork and knife before reached for the fork on closest to his plate.

*smack!*

"Ow!" Jonah rubbed his hand, glaring at Vil. The Prefect just shook his head.

"Try again," he commanded. Jonah huffed, looking at the utensil again. This time, he picked up the fork in the middle. Glancing at Vil, he could see his senior gave him a small nod. Jonah's lips curled up and he reached for the knife in the same position. He was about to cut the fish when suddenly Vil walked behind his chair and held onto his elbows.

"Don't raise your elbows too much," he instructed as he pushed Jonah's elbow lower. "Make sure they're low enough, but not too close to your body."

"Right." Cutting the fish was easier than the meat last time. It was delicious, just like the others. He needed to remember to ask for these recipes.

They practice from one food to another. Vil was very serious about this, which Jonah was grateful for. He felt more prepared now.

"Thank you for helping me today, Vil," Jonah said while stirring his spoon in a cup of hot chocolate.

Vil smiled and bit at his macaron. "It's not a problem, Jonah. A big brother's job is to help their younger siblings right?"

Jonah chuckled. "That is true," he said, before drinking his chocolate, sighing when he felt the warmth afterward.

"Oh, you haven't mentioned who asked you out," Vil suddenly said.

Jonah blinked confusedly. "Didn't Epel mention it?"

"No. He kept that part vague. That little twerp." Vil frowned, muttering the last part under his breath. He looked up at Jonah again, this time with a playful smile on his face. "So, who's the lucky man who managed to conquer the captain's heart?"

Jonah's face immediately became red. He looked down at his chocolate. Oh yeah. He was drinking chocolate too when he asked him for this date, right? That was a sweet moment. He let out a small chuckle as he looked back up to Vil with a warm smile on his face. "It's..."

.

.

.

So, I decided to take this challenge, tried the raffle twice, and got: [Vil = (2)  Simple coffee date/dinner date (or just a friendly dinner/hangout if you’re keeping it platonic)] and [Kalim = (5)  This dorm leader is in the hospital for some reason and you’ve come to cheer them up while they waste away in bed]

 Now, these are two students that I haven't met before in my fanfic. But, I do have an interaction with Vil in mind for my main-fanfic so I'll go with him. And I kept this platonic.

"Don't be a french fries, be the best damn potato you could ever be." - Vil Schoenheit (probably)

[lu-undy]

Chapter 34 - SBT

Here it is!

"Meoooow."

Lucien didn't even hear the kitten sing along to him. He was too deep into his rehearsal, on the piano, in his suite. His fingers were gliding on the keys and the man had sunk to depths uncharted by man ever before him. It was so dark at these depths, he didn't need his eyes to see, so he closed them. 

Not only did he not need his eyes to see but he was also exhausted. The nightmares coming back to him were starting to get to him. But, as of late, there was one thing that never failed to bring peace to him and help him fall asleep. 

Lucien was in the dark despite the golden sun drowning his living-room. The song he was rehearsing was sweet but the smoke of the cigarette between his lips, bitter. It balanced it out nicely. 

The Frenchman played and played, letting his fingers do the work while he set his thoughts free to run wild. And oh boy, they did. They ran and galloped, flew like fish in the clouds and swam like birds in the sea… One image kept coming back to him, one smile, one pair of lagoon blue eyes. And that sensitive side of him… M was full of surprises, all being good ones so far.

But how long? How long could he make it last? That trick of thinking about him to find peace and fall asleep without being assaulted by images of Marie and Jérémy? Could he even make it last? Was it even in his power?

The doorbell rang.

"Oh?" Lucien stopped playing and pricked his ears up. 

"Meow." 

He scooped Perle off the piano and put her on his shoulder as he went to the door and opened. 

"Ah, bonjour Bastien." 

"Hey there, L! Pearl..." The young man was carrying a few boxes.

The kitten hissed and Bastien chuckled.

"Tsk, sois polie et dis bonjour, Perle."

[Tsk, be polite and say hello, Perle.]

She hissed again and Lucien tapped her nose. 

"My apologies, as always, Bastien." 

"No worries. I have a few things for you. First, these suits from your tailor. He had me tell you that he added the extra one you asked for." 

"Oh, that is generous of him." Lucien took the suits that Bastien was handing him. 

"And he says good luck for tonight." 

"Merci. Here is for you, Bastien, and have a good day." 

Bastien accepted the tip with a wide smile before nodding and leaving.

"Jetons un coup d'oeil, Perle."

[Let us have a look, Perle.]

Lucien opened the boxes one by one. 

"Hm… Very nice, and very appropriate; right on time too." 

There were a few suits for his concerts, then M and his costume for Duchemin's masquerade ball and… 

"Oh, wow…" 

That had to be M's extra suit. Lucien had called Richard and added one. Why? He couldn't really say. Maybe seeing M's gaze fall to the floor when Richard lectured him about his clothes got to Lucien. Maybe it reminded him of his days locked up in his parisian flat, in rags as well, watching the sun spin around his head?

In any case, he needed to get this suit delivered to the Aussie. He rang for Bastien and asked him to do it for him. 

Now, Lucien needed some well earned lunch. 

"Perle, tu viens?" 

[Perle, you want to come along?]

The kitten brushed herself on her master's head. He smiled and got her leash. 

"Alors allons-y."

[Then, let's go.]

Lucien attached the leash to Perle and dropped her on the floor for her to trot happily on his side. He put on his jacket and headed for Victoria's diner. 

-- Victoria's diner --

"Oh hey, L!" 

"Bonjour, V."

"Hello, Pearl…!"

The kitten answered in her own way. 

"She still doesn't like anyone, eh?" 

"Non… And I try to teach her to at least say hello, but she refuses and just hisses at whoever happens to cross her path." Lucien sat down and scooped Perle off the floor to drop her on his lap. 

"Apart from you, that is."

"Indeed." 

"So, what will you have today?" She asked. 

"The fish." He answered. 

"I'll ask for a big one, so you can give some to her." Victoria winked. 

"Very nice of you, thank you. And you?" 

"I think I'll go for a Ceasar salad."

"Add it to my bill, please."

"Thanks! I'll be back in a minute." 

Victoria spun on her heels and left man and kitten alone. 

"Meow…" 

Perle was playing with her master's fingers, grabbing the index with her fluffy paws and gnawing on it. Lucien undid the leash and took her closer to his face. He kissed her and chatted with her while waiting for Victoria to come back.

"Perle?"

"Meow?" 

He laid her on the table on her back. 

"Booh!"

He tickled her and the kitten squealed and mewled, trying to push back these fingers that she liked to feel against her and through her fur so much. Lucien chuckled and removed his hand just to get rid of his glove and be able to feel her soft fluffiness. She hugged and cuddled his finger, wrestling with his hand still. 

"And here we go, fish and chips for the old man and the kitten, and a salad for me!"

Victoria put everything on the table before sitting down and joining Lucien. 

"Bon appétit, V."

"Thanks, to you too."

And they started digging in. Victoria had brought a small dessert plate where Lucien put bits of the fish that he previously had blown on, to make it cool down, and make sure Perle wouldn't burn herself on them. 

"So, how's it going with your friend?" She asked. 

"My friend?" He repeated. 

"Yeah, the lanky bloke from the other day, what's his name again…? Uh…"

"Ah, you mean M perhaps?" 

"Yeah, him! How's it going with him?" 

"We are not friends, professional acquaintances." Lucien corrected. 

"You can tell that to someone else, L, but not to me." 

Lucien stopped chewing sharp and his eyes darted up from his plate to Victoria's. 

"Pardon?" He asked in his native tongue. 

"You call him Bushman and he calls you Spook. You're friends." She explained. "An odd combo, but eh, I won't judge." 

Lucien raised a confused eyebrow. He wanted to answer back something, show her the wrongs of her ways, but her argument was pretty solid. He called M 'Bushman' and he was 'Spook'... 

"An odd combo?" He repeated. 

"You're as fancy as a bloke can get. It's a miracle you don't ask me for silver cutlery when you eat!" Victoria said. "But he looks like the very simple type."

"How so?" Lucien wanted to know exactly what she was thinking. 

"He doesn't have those manners of yours, he dresses up very simply, he talks very simply. In a word, he is your exact polar opposite." 

Lucien smiled. 

"Indeed, he is." 

"And yet…" She said and he raised his eyes to her. 

"Hm?" 

"And yet you like him, eh?" 

The concerto of cutlery on plates stopped sharp. 

"Non." He said coldly, although Victoria could hear the difference between his usual cold-bloodedness and the tone he was using now.

"Yeah, you get along nicely together." She went on. 

"Victoria…"

"Hey, I just mean I'm surprised you seem to - "

"Enough about him already!" He burst before frowning and looking down at the content of his plate. Perle had jumped out of fright on the table and laid down low, her ears were pulled back.

Lucien's sudden fit of anger startled Victoria who blushed out of embarrassment and resumed eating her salad, frowning too, but that was only because her friend's unexpected reaction pushed her to think harder.

"L?" 

"What?" He still stared at his plate, wincing at how ridiculous his behaviour had been. He was at the other end of proud of himself.

"Why are you so aggressive when I mention him? I'm just happy for you to have a friend."

"And for the millionth time I will repeat myself, he is not my friend!"

He raised his eyes to her and she was making one of those unfazed faces that said that she didn't believe him. Lucien rolled his eyes and sighed out of exasperation. 

"We are just working together. Circumstances called for it, neither of us and especially not me, wanted this."

"Hm…" She still did not believe a word of it. 

"Why are you insisting with this?" He asked.

"If you behaved normally, I wouldn't. But look at you, you're gripping your fork so tight, your knuckles are white. And I've never heard you get angry at anything before. Even when I asked you personal stuff, you didn't get angry. You just got up and went away."

Lucien looked away at Perle.

"So I'm just… surprised." Victoria said. "Why would you jump on your high horses just for that bloke?" 

He couldn't look her in the eyes and just petted Perle, as a wordless act of excuse to have yelled and scared her. But he knew. He knew Victoria was far from stupid...

"Oh, Gosh…!" She dropped her fork and it landed with a clink that shattered his ears. The conclusion she came to in her head dawned on her hard.

Lucien frowned and put a hand on his eyes, to hide how hard he was screwing them, while Victoria smacked a hand on her mouth. He raised furious eyes to her, shining like the sheen of blades. It was a threat, he was threatening her without the words. His ice grey eyes burning and the red of his face spoke the words his mouth couldn't and she blushed. She was impressed. 

"D-don't worry, I-I won't tell anyone…" She stuttered, paralysed by the rage fuming out of his face, his hair, and his suit. 

-- The Queen Victoria --

Lulu was in his dressing room, getting ready for the night's performance. His encounter with Victoria for lunchtime didn't leave his mind. What she had read in him, he was trying his best to hide, forget and even better, throw away. He couldn't allow himself to feel that way. Non, of course not, not while getting his revenge for Marie and Jérémy. 

Marie… 

What would she think if she knew? 

Lucien shook his head. Non! Not again! That wasn't the right moment to think about this now! He was about to step on stage…!

And yet, Lucien kept on staring at his reflection in the mirror, his impeccable hair, his eyes and his suit sharper than before. And he remembered his miserable afternoon that day, after the lunch he shared with Victoria. 

He had gone back home and straight to his bed, where he needed to hide, like a fox in his den. He curled up under the duvet, all the lights were out, the suite was dead silent, and he held Perle in his arms, because there was no one else to hug, to cuddle, to squeeze. 

"Meow?" 

His breath was getting louder and faster. He regretted it, he regretted having told Victoria. Merde! He hadn't said anything! But if she got it, that meant that he had made it clear enough, non? Merde! Merde! Merde! Why did he have to be like that?!

"Meow?" 

Marie would die of shame if she knew it, no doubt. And Lucien wouldn't know how to look Jérémy in the eye if he had still been walking amongst the living. Marie didn't know that he could also like men. She knew him as a romantic man, a man who would appreciate beauty though all his senses. A good meal? A nice perfume? A soft scarf? He used to revel in them all, a man of acute sensitivity he was, both on his physical senses and his heartstrings… 

What would Marie think to see him now closing his eyes at night on the image of a man? What would she say if she was still next to him, in his bed? What would she say if, when he held her hand, he would feel the engagement ring again? How would she look at him, if she knew that the only way for him to fall asleep and peaceful, was to swim in the lagoon blue eyes of a man?

And what man? Scruffy, wild, untidy, someone at the polar opposite of his prime, pristine, impeccable and elegant self, to quote Victoria. 

And on top of all that, he couldn't afford any shred of sentimentality, not when he was off to kill a man, not when he was off to torture the life out of him, choke it out of him, lacerate it out of his very skin. Non, frivolous feelings like these wouldn't help, quite the opposite. 

"Meow?" 

"Perle…"

She brushed herself on him, under the cover.

"Pourquoi je suis encore comme ça?"

[Why am I still like that?]

"Meow?"

"Après la mort de Marie, je ne pensais que je pouvais encore-…"

[After Marie's death, I never thought I could-....]

He screwed his eyes shut and felt them grow warmer.

"Non! Pas encore! Je n'en peux plus d'être comme ça!"

[No! Not again! I can't bear it anymore, to be like that!]

He released Perle and wrapped his arms around himself, curling in a fetal position. He wanted to be small, tiny, to not exist, to press the reset button of his life…

"MERDE!"

Perle screeched out of fright as Lucien, again, drenched his pillow, the mascara of his cold facade melting along his cheeks…

After he had woken up and taken a hot shower, he had called Andy. Change of plans, change of songs. Here were the new chords. The song was French, he insisted on singing it. Oh, and there was something else he trusted Andy with, something for-... 

Argh! Again?! 

The same blue eyes flashed before his eyes…

Lucien sighed. He was now at the Queen Victoria and looking next to him, he found yet another cardboard box full of admirers’ letters. A voice in his head whispered to him to have a look. But reason got the best out of him and he resorted to simply push it away, out of his reach.

He was now Lulu, and it hurt, because he was the artist, the sensitive man. He knew that when it was his turn to walk on stage - any minute now - he would then again lose against her, against Music. 

She would wrap herself around his neck, his waist, let her hands slither along his slender body, send shivers everywhere as if she was touching his bare skin. She also would take his lips, suck the very breath out of them and leave him empty and exhausted. Trying to resist falling too hard, it takes a lot of effort and energy.

"Ladies and gentlemen…!"

Lucien's ears pricked up. It was his time to shine. He stood up, straightened his bowtie and carded back his hair. 

Hey, mate? Deep breath. 

His eyes snapped wide and his pupils shrank. 

"... The one and only, the great Lulu!"

Lucien gulped down some water and walked to the stage. He pushed the panes of the thick red curtain left and right and emerged in front of the crowd. He had asked for a bit more light on him that evening. Frank, the Queen Victoria's owner, had mocked him, thinking Lucien was throwing a tantrum, like a rotten spoilt child. 

But non, of course not.

Lucien walked to the microphone under the thunder of applause that for once didn't make him feel that good.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lucien started. "Thank you again for the letters, I appreciate the kind words and would like to reiterate my thanks." 

A wave of applause rolled in the audience. 

"Secondly, I took the liberty of changing tonight's song." 

There was a collective silent gasp in the audience.

Lulu sat down at the piano. 

{The song is "Comme ils disent" [As they say] by Charles Aznavour, some lyrics have been tweaked}

He nodded at Andy and his fingers sank on the keys as the violins pulled their first chord. Lulu closed his eyes and let her get to him, Music, he let her possess him. The double-bass resonated in his chest, his heart beat the tempo and he slowly melted in the melody as he sang.

"J'habite seul avec ma Perle

[I live alone with my Perle]

Dans un très bel appartement

[In a very beautiful flat]

Aristocrate

[Aristocrat]

J'ai pour me tenir compagnie

[I have for company]

Des cigarettes, des nuits d'ennuis

[My cigarettes, my nights of boredom]

Et une chatte"

[And a lady cat]

Of course the original song's lyrics were different, but Lucien had changed them all when he had decided that he should sing selfishly, about… himself. 

"Le travail ne me fait pas peur

[Working doesn't scare me]

Je suis un peu décorateur

[I'm a bit of a decorator]

Un peu styliste

[A bit of a designer]

Mais mon vrai métier

[But my real job]

C'est la nuit

[It's at night]

Que je l'exerce travesti

[That I work for it, in a disguise]

Je suis artiste"

[I am an artist]

Oui, Lucien in fact, was an artist. Espionnage, like music, was an art. It was a means to express one's feelings. The boldness of a bullet, the delicateness of a knife, the seduction of an interrogation exercise, the sensuality of torture… And Lucien was an expert at all of it.

"J'ai un numéro très spécial

[I have a very special number]

Qui finit en nu intégral

[That I finish completely naked]

Après strip-tease"

[After a strip-tease]

Of course Lucien did not mean it literally. But it did feel like it, especially in this one-sided game where he knew M was somewhere out there listening to him, not knowing that the L he worked with was the same Lulu in front of him. And that was why Lucien asked to be blinded with a spotlight. He wanted the light to make it impossible for him to see that man, sitting there in the crowd. He needed that external light to take his eyesight away because he knew that without it, he would be too tempted.

Lucien took a deep breath, the next verses he knew where the hardest. They spoke a truth that no one should know about him, and yet, he needed to shout it, he needed to free himself from that taboo.

"Et dans la salle je vois que

[And in the room I see that]

Les mâles n'en croient pas leurs yeux!

[The males cannot believe their eyes!]

Je suis un hom-oh

[I am a man-oh/homo]

Comme ils disent"

[As they say]

And there, it was said, it was sung and it was yelled. That song was cleverly designed such that one could either hear "Je suis un homme, oh" [I am a man, oh], or it could also be "Je suis un homo" [I am a homosexual]. 

Lucien stood off of the piano and took the microphone with him. He started walking on stage, the words coming out of his mouth were commanding his legs, his arms, his entire body.

"Je me couche mais ne dors pas

[I got to bed but I can't sleep]

Je pense à mes amours sans joie

[I think about all my sad loves]

Si dérisoires

[So pointless]

À cet homme beau comme un dieu

[I think about that man, gorgeous as a god]

Qui sans rien faire a mis le feu

[Who, without doing anything, set fire]

À ma mémoire

[To my memory]

Ma bouche n'osera jamais

[My mouth won't ever dare]

Lui avouer mon doux secret

[Admit my soft secret]

Mon tendre drame

[My tender disaster]

Car l'objet de tous mes tourments

[Because the object of all my desires]

Passe le plus clair de son temps

[Spends all of his time]

Sur le macadam"

[On the roads]

And there he was again. Lucien was standing at the edge of the stage, a hand on his chest to help his heart. His lower lip was trembling and he could feel a tear form in his eyes. He fluttered his eyelashes and looked up, as if to swallow back those shameful, burning waters. 

"Nul n'a le droit en vérité

[No one in truth has any right]

De me blâmer, de me juger

[To blame me, to judge me]

Et je précise

[And I want to make it clear]

Que c'est bien la nature qui

[That it is only Nature]

Est seule responsable si

[The one responsible if]

Je suis un hom-oh

[I am a man-oh/homo]

Comme ils disent"

[As they say]

That last note he held as long ah he had some breath, it floated in the air and stretched the passing of time itself. Of course, as he closed his eyes, the tears finally sank. He turned his back and left the stage without adding a word.

Lucien locked himself in the dressing room. Nothing made sense anymore. Why did he have to sing that? M knew that Lulu liked men, they had talked it through before. But why did he feel like he had to sing it? 

A knock interrupted his descent in madness. He froze. 

Merde. 

He stood up from his sofa and nearly fell. 

"Merde."

His legs were jelly. He caught himself on the sofa's arm and pushed on his legs and thighs to stand, collecting his dignity. He feared that the man behind the door was the one he had asked the brightest of lights on his eyes for… 

Lucien cleared his throat and pulled the door open. 

"Frank?" 

The plump man was standing at the door and Lucien's lungs slowly released the air he realised he had trapped there.

"Duchemin wants to see you, maybe even have a bite with you." 

"Ah, but of course." Lucien followed the restaurant owner to the upstairs, VIP area. 

"Here he is! The legend! The fool!" Duchemin applauded him and his brain-dead henchmen copied him around. Lucien bowed elegantly as he noticed the lady on his lap was yet again a new one.

"Merci." He sat next to the criminal. 

"Cheeky choice of song, hm?" Duchemin said. "Somebody please, get this man a menu!"

"It is one of the artist's functions, to go beyond taboos, open people's minds through their ears and hearts." Lucien coldly answered as he took the menu he was handed and chose the chocolate dessert again.

"Still, quite bold, although I had no doubt about it." Duchemin answered. 

"About what?" Lucien asked. 

"À propos de ce que vous avez chanté."

[About what you sang.] 

Duchemin's French was impeccable, of course, he was a native. But with his British accent when he spoke English, Lucien had almost forgotten that. Of course Duchemin had understood the lyrics…

"I also understand about your plus one." Duchemin added. 

"Hm?" 

The dessert appeared in front of Lucien's eyes and he dug in. 

"Vous m'aviez dit que ce serait un homme."

[You told me it would be a man.]

Duchemin said in French.

"Does it come as a surprise to you?" Lucien answered.

"No, to each their own. I know plenty more like you and unlike you. I do not care as long as you are a friend. And Lulu, you are becoming a good one!" 

Lucien gave him a fake, yet believable smile.

"Many thanks."

"Did you get your costume yet?" Duchemin asked. 

"Oui, I did."

"And your other half too?"

Lucien almost choked on his chocolate dessert. He was seeing M in his head and hearing "other half" at the same time. His heart jumped in his ribcage. 

"Oui." He simply answered, thanking his lifetime of service as a spy for hiding his blush and emotions. 

"Perfect! I cannot wait to see you there! It will be quite the party."

"Do you expect a lot of guests?" Lucien asked. 

"Certainly! It will be colourful and hopefully, a great moment of entertainment!" 

"No doubt." 

"And I have talked about you to a few people, look at the upstairs area here…"

Lucien looked left and right. It was full of people. He smiled to himself. He indeed won his bet with Frank. In about a month, the popularity of the Queen Victoria soared. 

"You look tired, Lulu. Not enough sleep?" 

"I work hard." Was Lucien's answer. "I thank you for your company, but I must get some rest."

"Of course, thank you, and congratulations again on today's performance!" 

"You are welcome."

Lucien stood up and bowed to the criminal before going back to his dressing room. He locked himself in, threw his gloves and tie away before dropping on the sofa. He put his elbows on his knees and bent forward to hold his face in his palms. 

"Mon Dieu…"

He undid the first button of his shirt and breathed heavily.

[viranlly]

Viranlly hosts Thanksgiving Dinner.

in partnership with Wines of British Columbia.

IT’S CRUNCH TIME Y’ALL!

I don’t even where time went but here we are now, just over a week before Thanksgiving. The aroma of PSL is in the crisp fall air, the days are getting shorter, and the meals we preppin’ are getting cozier each day. The holidays are upon us and so is the (grape) harvest month.

To celebrate both festivities, I’ve teamed up with the Wines of British Columbia to come up with some fun thanksgiving recipes and of course delicious BC wine pairings to go with them. I’m skipping the turkey, because let’s be honest, I don’t trust myself with a bird that size, nor that I have the space and capacity both physically and mentally to handle a turkey. I want to make sure that this holiday cooking will be as stress-free and as boozy as possible, because we all deserve that kind of holidays.

Please note that these recipes serve 4-6 people.

First thing first, it’s not a dinner party at Viranlly’s without a damn-well-put-together CHARCUTERIE AND CHEESE BOARD. Here’s the fun part about this board: there’s no recipe. The trick is you want to make sure you have a balance in flavours, textures and colours (because ya know.. aesthetic). 

THE MEAT : variety of cured meats with different flavour profiles - hot genoa salami, prosciutto, iberico ham, chorizo, and capicollo are always a great start.

THE CHEESE : make sure you have at least hard and soft cheese, everything in between never hurts either - jammy brie or camembert is a crowd pleaser, manchego is delicious, especially when you can find the truffle-y ones. Can never go wrong with parmigianio-reggiano, or a nutty pecorino. Aged cheddar and smoked gouda if you want a little funk. The possibility is honestly, endless.

THE FRUITS AND VEGGIES : grapes and olives (olives are veggies, right? I prefer unpitted Castelvetrano) are staple on my board. Seasonal fruits and veggies always add amazing flavours to the board : pears and figs in the fall, peaches and berries in the summer.

THE EVERYTHING ELSE: honey, hummus, nuts, preserves, bread, crackers, pate, and everything your heart and stomach desire.

I always love to start the night off with a bottle or two of bubbly, something really crisp, citrusy and refreshing. The Howling Bluff Faux Paw has a ton of berry notes with a just a zest of spice, perfect to be enjoyed with everything on this board. Another great bubbly is the Haywire Pink Bub, which, we consumed throughout the summer. 

The next two dishes are heavily inspired by my friends’ thanksgiving last year, with a view adjustments to meet what I have readily in my, and most kitchens.

This RADICCHIO AND SQUASH SALAD is my definition of the perfect autumn salad: rich and nutty, a hint of bitterness and lots of crunch.

THE VEGGIES: 

1 medium-sized delicata squash, sliced up to half-an-inch-thick half moons (wow that’s wordy). Toss them in olive oil, salt and pepper before hitting the 450F preheated oven for 25-35 mins, or until  fork tender. Occasionally turn your sheet tray to make sure they’re cooked evenly, and flip the squash over halfway. 

Tear up and cut one head of radicchio into quarter, soak them in ice bath for a couple minutes before assembly. 

Thinly slice one medium-sized asian pear, toss in the juice of half a lemon and season with salt and pepper. 

THE DRESSING: 

Toss half a cup (minus a handful for later) of pecan, or walnut, or hazelnuts (really, any nuts you have around -- 2 tablespoon peanut butter work too), 1 small shallot, juice of half an orange and one lemon, 1 tablespoon dijon mustard, a splash of red wine vinegar and 2 tablespoon maple syrup (or honey) into a blender. Blend together and gradually add in a 1/4 cup of olive oil until a silky consistency is achieved. Season with salt and pepper.

THE ASSEMBLY: 

Spread leftover nuts in a small sheet tray, drizzle with olive oil, salt and one tbsp maple syrup.Put them in the still-hot oven just enough to get them slightly toasty. I tend to forget about them and burn the nuts to the ground, so leave this step until the last 5-10 mins before assembly. 

Combine squash, radicchio in a big bowl, coat with dressing. Transfer to serving plate. 

Sprinkle the toasted nuts, and the asian pear allover squash and radicchio.

Shave some parmesan or piave.

Drizzle with some more olive oil and lemon juice, and crack some more black pepper.

I thought this salad can use the brightness and the blossoming freshness of the Orofino orange wine: stunning colour, burst of tropical fruits and elegant floral notes. My mouth is watering as typed this.  

This SAUSAGE AND CORNBREAD STUFFING changed the stuffing game forever. Honestly, you’d never want to eat another crusty, white bread stuffing for any holidays ever again. It’s so very indulgent, buttery, and loaded with aromatics. Crispy up top, soft and moist -- yes, moist inside.

THE CORNBREAD:

I am obsessed with the cornbread from Boulevard Kitchen and Oyster Bar. And since this recipe relies quite heavily on the cornbread, trust me, you’d want to use the best cornbread you can find. In this case, I’ve found the winner. Cut up 1 1/2 lb cornbread to 3/4″ pieces and leave them in a 350F oven for 40 mins or so until they’re dry. Don’t worry we’ll the moisture back later. Transfer cornbread to a big mixing bowl.

THE STUFFING:

Cook and a lb or so of breakfast sausage in a skillet. Break them apart with a wooden spoon and let brown about 8 minutes. Transfer sausages to a plate.

In the same skillet, leaving the sausage brown bits, add 1/4 cup of butter and cook one diced onion and two stalks of cubed up celery until softened. Add three cloves of chopped garlic and one sliced japaleno, cook for another minute or so. Add 1/2 cup of dry white wine and another 1/4 cup of butter and let the liquid evaporate. Add thyme and chopped sage.

THE ASSEMBLY:

Combine cornbread and stuffing in the mixing bowl, add 2 eggs and 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock. Stir them occasionally until cornbread absorbs most of the liquid.

Lightly butter a cast iron pan, or baking dish and transfer mixture in.

Put the pan in the 350F oven for 40-ish minutes then turn up the heat to 425F for 15-20 mins until the outside is crisp and golden brown.

The VinAmité Chanson d’Amour is quite a delightful pairing for this dish. The chardonnay in the blend gives that soft minerality while keeping the palate fresh and peachy. Another great option is  the Unsworth Pinot Noir: plum-y, dark cherry, a swift hint of earthy herbs - brings out the thyme aroma in the dish.

The last recipe is a simple, choose-your-own-adventure kind of recipe to replace the boring old sweet potato casserole. It’s a BYOB: Build Your Own Baked sweet potato bar!

THE SWEET POTATO:

Cut 4 medium-sized sweet potatoes into half and coat them in olive oil, salt and pepper. Put them cut side down on a sheet tray and into a 425F oven for 30 minutes or until they’re fork tender.

THE TOPPINGS:

The toppings, again, can honestly be anything you’re in the mood for buuut these are my three favourites:

Spicy chorizo cooked in vermouth and butter. It’s as simple as it sounds. In a skillet, heat a tablespoon or so olive oil and bloom chili flakes in it. Slice two links of spanish chorizo and toss into the chili oil. Add vermouth and butter and cook until sauce thickens. 

Spicy soy garlic tempeh. Dice one slab of tempeh (I used tempea) into 1/2 cm cubes and season with salt and pepper. In a skillet, add one table spoon of oil and add 2 cloves of chopped garlic. Toss the tempe in, and add 1 tablespoon of soy sauce, and 1 tablespoon of kecap manis. If you like the heat, add 1-2 sliced up birdseye chili. Serve with cilantro and green onion.

Lobster salad. Cut 2 lobster claws into chunks, add the juice of half a lemon and season with salt and pepper. Add 2 tablespoon of kewpie mayo, one teaspoon of honey, and mix together. Add 2 stalks of thinly sliced celery and top it off with dill. Season with salt and pepper as needed.

THE SAUCE: 

As simple as sour cream (or plain greek yoghurt), lemon juice, olive oil, grated garlic cloves, seasoned with salt and pepper.

The salad dressing leftover works well too!

THE ASSEMBLY:

Go wild ;)

The wines for this particular dish can be as playful as you want them to be buuuut I decided to go with something a bit more crisp, fruity and floral like the Tantalus Vineyard Riesling especially if you go on the lobster route. Another great option is the Bartier Bros Merlot, which, is a slightly nutty, savoury with a touch more of cherry and dark fruits. 

Hosting a holiday dinner is a pretty big job and I admit, it can get really stressful but I hope these easy-ish recipes and the wine (I know the wines work) will help you guys through. A MASSIVE thank you to the team at Legends Haul for making my grocery shopping for this dinner SO. MUCH. EASIER. 

And just another PSA that the holiday is the PERFECT time to support you local wineries and enjoy the delicious wines BC has to offer. And BC has A LOT to offer. So, explore, sip and savour your way throughout this Harvest month. Find more information about BC Harvest Month here.

[gothpanda]

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch.27: Christmas

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

A/N: Enjoy! Comments are highly appreciated! ❤️

WARNINGS: none

TAGS: @madamsixx​ @emariehorror​

Read On Ao3

Previous/Next 

December 11th, 1982

"I still don't get why you wanted to eat in your shit apartment when we could've gone somewhere," Sammi complained, twirling her plastic fork to capture linguine noodles in the carryout plate. They sat beside each other on the old sofa, Sammi praying it wouldn't break again. Nikki swallowed his spaghetti, kicking his feet up on the grimy coffee table. "Because maybe I just want to be in a quiet place for my birthday," Nikki answered with a smirk.

"Oh, is that why you abandoned the guys in San Diego?" Sammi asked, matching Nikki's smirk. "To be in a quiet place eating Italian food… with me?"

"Exactly. Besides you can admit you're happy to see my face. I won't tell anyone,"

"Shut up. I was happy because you surprised me at work. It's not like I miss you or anything," Sammi mumbled, smiling shyly away from Nikki. The two ate in silence with the music playing at low volume, songs range from 79 to this year playing on loop. 'Waiting for a Girl Like You' began playing, gaining Nikki and Sammi's attention, passing glances at each other.

"This is a cute song," Sammi admitted, placing her food on the coffee table, standing up as she walked over to the small kitchen sill.

"Of course you'd like the love songs," Nikki teased, sipping on his cold beer.

"Oh shush. You write love songs all the time too. They're just disguised as heavy rock for the tough boys," Sammi said over her shoulder.

"You aren't wrong but don't be telling that to magazines when we're famous,"

Sammi unzipped the dividing pocket of her black purse, slowly taking out a tiny red gift bag. Sammi looked at Nikki continue mindlessly eating, thankful he didn't notice anything. Sammi held the bag behind her back, standing right in front of Nikki with a dopey smile that made Nikki raise an eyebrow.

"Whatcha doing?" Nikki asked. Sammi whipped her arms forward, holding the gift bag between the two of them.

"Happy birthday!" Sammi exclaimed.

"You got me a present?" Nikki asked, putting his cardboard plate down as he took hold of the present.

"Well yeah I had to or else I'd feel bad,"

"You didn't even know it was my birthday 'til a few hours ago," Nikki said with a smile.

"And who's fault is that, Mr. Secretive?"

Nikki shook his head, removing the white tissue paper to find a flat navy velvet box sitting at the bottom. Nikki threw the gift bag aimlessly, scrunched eyebrows as he opened the box, revealing a black onyx crystal stone pendant. Nikki carefully pulled out the necklace, admiring the silver rope chain for it. "Wow, Sam. This looks pretty cool. When and where did you even get this?"

Sammi sat right next to Nikki. "As soon as I got off work. There's a cool witchy hippie store that opened up. The guy who sold it to me said the stone is supposed to absorb negativity and turn it into strength and protection. I just thought it looked cool," said Sammi, shrugging her shoulders. "Do you like it?"

"I love it. Thank you, Sammi," Nikki said, smiling dearly at Sammi, glancing down at her lips. He didn't know if he should kiss her, not know what to do in general with the young girl. So instead, Nikki gave her a hug and kissed her temple. "I hope this gives me all the protection I need,"

December 13th, 1985

Covina, California

Sammi looked down into the boiling pot of water, checking to see if it appeared perfect for the macaroni noodles she needed to pour in. Shrugging her shoulder, Sammi grabbed a bowl of uncooked noodles, pouring in carefully, and adding salt into the water. She turned the timer for 8 minutes beside her then paid attention to the ground beef that was beginning to sizzle on her left, stirring it to not burn any sides. The onions were already entirely browned to Mrs. Bass's liking, reminding Sammi to sprinkle in the proper seasonings for pastitsio before the beef was too cooked. Sammi grabbed the salt and pepper shaker, shaking both vigorously as the meat was folding in on the skillet.

"Don't forget the cinnamon before the tomato paste," Mrs. Bass said behind Sammi, smiling at her daughter as she entered the kitchen. Sammi looked over her shoulder, matching her mother's smile and reaching for the pantry's ground cinnamon to her right.

"I won't. I am your only child that in fact knows how to cook," Sammi said to Mrs. Bass as she put a measuring cup of water by the stove. Mrs. Bass kissed Sammi's cheek in gratitude for helping make the Greek lasagna, knowing how long it took to cook the special dish. Simultaneously, Sammi poured in the cup of water and tomato paste into the ground beef, giving one final stir of everything before letting it simmer alone. Mrs. Bass looked over Sammi's shoulder to see if everything was going smoothly, knowing she could trust Sammi to make dinner.

"I know but I have to still be a mother and tell you what to do. I already shredded the cheese before you came," Mrs. Bass said, stirring the boiling pasta. Suddenly the backyard door in the kitchen opened fast, Athena walking in with a somber face. She didn't appear to be in the mood for a family dinner, wanting a stiff drink in her hand.

Mrs. Bass smiled when seeing Athena, opening her arms for a hug. "Athi! You're early,"

"Hey, Mama," Athena said, kissing her mother on the cheek but no smile to give. Sammi leaned against the kitchen island, smiling at Athena but not getting one in return. Athena only glared at Sammi, inching closer to the stove to see what was cooking. Sammi only kept her polite smile until Athena walked out into the living room without another word. Mrs. Bass acted as if nothing was wrong, getting the béchamel and cheese from the refrigerator.

"Hi to you too, Athena!" Sammi shouted from the kitchen, facing the stove to turn off a burner, carefully grabbing the boiling pot to drain out the pasta. Mrs. Bass scrunched her eyebrows together, studying Sammi's face.

"Is something wrong between you and Athena?" Mrs. Bass asked, spreading a thin layer of butter on the deep casserole dish, waiting to assemble it. Sammi just shrugged her shoulders, passing the macaroni noodles to her mother.

"She's just mad I didn't tell her about my little field trip to Vegas, and I think something went wrong in her love life," said Sammi, pouring in the ground beef then macaroni into the deep dish.

"In that case just give her some space if she's hurt about love. But also don't mind her moods just because you didn't say something to her," Mrs. Bass said, waving her hand in a shooing motion, almost like Athena should let her anger go. Mrs. Bass added the last touches to the pastitsio, putting it in the hot oven to cook for nearly an hour. "You have your own life. You can do whatever you want,"

"Yeah I know. She's just being a brat to me for not telling her," Sammi said, washing her hands. Mrs. Bass tried to withhold a chuckle, wiping her hands from any food on them.

"Be nice to your sister! She's the only one you have forever. Now go relax while I make a salad for everyone," Mrs. Bass ordered, pointing for Sammi to leave the kitchen. Sammi followed her mother's words, slowly strolling into the living room. Athena sat alone with a magazine in her hands, the television playing Three's Company in low volume. Sammi dropped herself on Mr. Bass's recliner, tucking her legs under herself, hitting her chin on her knuckles as she looked at Athena. Athena could obviously hear Sammi and feel her presence, peeking over the corner to see her sister stare.

"What?" Athena barked, looking back at the gossip magazine to only see Motley and other bands spread out the pages. Athena rolled her eyes at Nikki's picture, tossing the booklet on the coffee table.

"Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to know what was going on with my sister. Especially since you didn't bother to say hi to me," said Sammi.

"Maybe because I have nothing to say to you. Ever thought about that?"

"You're seriously going to be mad at me forever? Because I don't really care at this point,"

"Of course you wouldn't care. You're as selfish as your stupid boyfriend," Athena accused, lowering her voice so their mother wouldn't hear. Sammi only frowned and rolled her eyes, slumping more in-depth into the recliner.

"At least I have something with someone," Sammi mumbled, staring at the tv.

"Oh fuck you," Athena said, folding her arms to her chest. Sammi glared at Athena, hugging her arms like her sister.

"I'm not selfish because I hang around with Nikki. I don't have to tell you everything,"

"You said you were done with him," Athena pointed out.

"And you've said Emma was being overly dramatic about your relationship," Sammi rebuttal.

"Are you only on her side to get back at me? Why are you even bringing her up?" Athena asked, narrowing her eyes to Sammi.

"Karma tastes so good right when a sibling doesn't shut up about your love life? And no I'm not. She was my friend first before your girlfriend, or should I say ex-girlfriend,"

"You're such a bitch," Athena mumbled. Sammi shook her head, taking a deep breath in.

"Again, are you going to be mad at me for not telling you about Vegas?" Sammi asked.

"Again, you said you were done with that guy,"

"You are so annoying. Can you just answer the question,"

"I'm mad you don't tell the truth to us anymore. We were so good for a moment and then you did a 180 again. Except for this time where you have us around," Athena said, grabbing the remote to change the challenges. Sammi blinked for a moment, scrunching deep between her brows.

"What?"

"Tommy and I finally had you being on our side where we told each other everything like it always was. Remember? Right before you became a selfish brat in high school. Then all of a sudden when you get with him, you do 180 and keep secrets,"

"You're one to talk about being a brat. Aren't the older siblings supposed to be the more mature ones?"

"Whatever. How about you just stop talking about him okay? Because trust me no one wants to fucking hear it," Sammi stared at Athena for a moment, bouncing her leg up and down fast.

"His name is Nikki," Sammi said before marching out of the living room and heading up to her old empty space. She shut the door and fell on the naked bed, closing her eyes as she sighed out.

*

Dinner was relatively quiet for the Bass family. Mr. and Mrs. Bass sitting at each head on the table while Sammi and Athena were across from one another. Sammi and Athena didn't want to look at each other, looking down at their food or their respective parents. Mr. Bass went on about co-workers who couldn't do their jobs right while Mrs. Bass gave her little advice. It wasn't until Mrs. Bass brought up the question of her husband's Christmas schedule that Sammi's ear perked up, remembering what she needed to do.

"Um I'm glad you brought up Christmas, Mama, I need to tell you guys something," Sammi said, wiping away any food from the corner of her mouth. Her parents and Athena's eyes were all on her. Athena frowning deep while their parents kept no hard looks, only curiosity on them.

"What is it, Sammi?" asked Mr. Bass.

"I'm not gonna be here for Christmas," Sammi said, pressing her lips together. Her eyes shifted to Mr. and Mrs. Bass, eyes shot up while Athena frowned deeper.

"Oh? And where will you be?" asked Mrs. Bass, holding her hands together on the table with amusement.

"Idaho," Sammi smiled, taking another bite of the food she cooked tonight.

"And what's in Idaho? Or who for that matter?" Mr. Bass asked, smiled. Athena dropped her fork and knife on the plate, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"Nikki invited me to spend Christmas with him and his grandparents. They live in Idaho in the middle of nowhere. You guys aren't mad I'll be missing Christmas, right?" Sammi said with worry.

"Oh no, Sammi! It'll be fun! You'll get to have a white Christmas for once," Mrs. Bass says, reaching over to squeeze Sammi's hand. "Of course I will miss my little lovebug. We'll have a personal Christmas for when you come back,"

"Do you have enough warm clothes? I wouldn't want you freezing up there," Mr. Bass asked, taking a bite of his food. "Open land near Canada is just the perfect place for snow,"

"Yes I do. Nikki warned me to buy a lot of winter clothes. He said it can get to 7 degrees. I bought a whole bunch of coats for the trip,"

"Wear extra socks. If you have the flu when you get back, I'm going to have a word with Nikki," Mr. Bass with humor, pointing his fork at Sammi as he looked over his glasses.

"And when will you be leaving? How long are you going to stay over there?" Mrs. Bass asked.

"The 23rd. It'll give Nikki enough time to rest from his Florida flight and pack again. He wants to stay until the 30th so we don't deal with crazy airport traffic on the way home," said Sammi, glancing up at Athena as she ate her food.

"Sounds like a good plan. Hopefully, you two don't get any delays from the weather," Mr. Bass said. Sammi only smiled and continued to finish her food, glancing up to see Athena sulking in her seat.

"You don't think it's weird that Sammi's going to spend a holiday with him? She's supposed to be with family. Not a random guy," Athena said, pursing her lips out and sucking her teeth as she glared at Sammi. Sammi matched her sister's eyes, keeping a tight grip on her fork. "I mean you two haven't even met him,"

"He's not a random guy. We've met Nikki before on a few short occasions. Seems like a nice young man. Quiet but still nice. And I trust Sammi's decisions to be around him," Mrs. Bass said.

"See Athena? People like Nikki," said Sammi, sucking her teeth.

"And Athena be respectful. Nikki is your brother and sister's closet friend, you can to say his name," said Mr. Bass

"But I don't like him! And I don't like Sammi ditching us to go and play house with a rock star," Athena barked in Sammi's direction.

"Athena!" Mrs. Bass shouted frowning.

"I'm not playing house! Nikki's grandmother said he could bring a friend and he asked me,"

"A friend or a girlfriend? Because what grandmother just suggests that unless Nikki talked them into it?" Athena asked.

"Nikki isn't my boyfriend. And it's called being nice and hospitable to their grandson. Something you know nothing about with your ugly attitude," Sammi said.

"Samantha, that is enough," Mr. Bass uttered under his breath.

"And when did Nikki ask you? Was it in Vegas or maybe another time you snuck away to see him without telling anyone? Was it after Tommy caught you two in the elevator together or before?" Athena asked.

"Why should I tell you? I thought you didn't want to hear it?" Sammi said in a mocking voice.

"And I told you to stop talking about it! No one cares!"

"Fine then bud out of my life and shut up!"

"Fine!"

"Girls!" Mr. and Mrs. Bass yelled in unison, causing each daughter to look at one parent. "You two shouldn't be arguing like this. Athena, apologize to your sister," Mr. Bass told Athena.

"What? Why?!"

"Because you're being rude to Sammi about matters that do not involve you. If she wants to be around Nikki, then leave her to it. You shouldn't be giving relationship advice in the first place," Mr. Bass said, pressing his lips firmly together.

Athena rolled her eyes. "No. I'm not apologizing for giving my opinion about Nikki,"

"Athena, you have the right to an opinion but your father is right. It's her and Tommy's decision to be around Nikki. If your sister wishes to spend her time with that boy, then that's just how it's going to be," Mrs. Bass advised in a soft voice.

"You two don't even know him! He's not good! He's crazy and mean to everyone!"

"Jesus. You sound just like Amanda," Sammi mumbled, pushing herself out of her seat and grabbing her half-finished plate.

"Well, maybe she had some points!" Athena shouted out to Sammi as she left the dining room. Sammi threw away the rest of the food in the trash, trying not to drop the glass plate in the sink, keeping in mind how it could break. Mrs. Bass cautiously walked into the kitchen, placing a hand on Sammi's shoulder. Sammi only stayed looking out the kitchen window, trying to eavesdrop on what her father was telling Athena.

"I know it may seem like this can last forever, but Athena will come around," Mrs. Bass reassured.

"And what makes you so sure of that, Mama?" Sammi asked, meeting her mother's gaze.

"Because she's your sister. You only have each other,"

"Yeah well I'm not going to hold my breath," Sammi said, turning on the faucet for warm water and began washing the dishes.

December 23rd, 1985

Van Nuys, California

Sammi yawned out loud, laying down on Nikki's clean sheets as she waited for the man to finish packing his winter bag. Nikki smirked at Sammi's sleepiness, beginning to feel the excitement of spending almost a week with his two favorite people, well three. Nikki grabbed the checklist he wrote down on the plane, double-checking in his mind that everything was already packed.

"Excited to see your grandparents?" Sammi asked, resting her head on a pillow. Nikki sat down by Sammi, moving his suitcase to the middle of the bed.

"Yeah. I haven't seen them in what feels like forever. Especially spending a Christmas with them. Are you still nervous about meeting them?" Nikki asked, laying against the silk pillows.

"A little bit. I know you said that they'll love me but I've never met someone else's family like this,"

"Oh come on. You've done the whole meeting the parents with your old boyfriends before?"

"Not really. Hate to break it to you but I rarely had boyfriends in high school or even before I met you,"

"Bullshit! I don't believe you,"

"I'm serious! Vince has been my only real boyfriend, and I barely even saw his family when we were together,"

"Damn. Well if it makes you feel better, you're my only girlfriend meeting Nona and Tom. Also the first to meet Deana but she doesn't count for shit," Nikki said, scrunching his brows together at Sammi's quizzical grin. "What?"

"I'm your girlfriend?" Sammi asked, raising an eyebrow. "This is news to me,"

Nikki rolled his eyes, clearing his throat as he looked away from Sammi. "I think it's pretty clear to everyone that you're my girl. Don't act so surprised,"

"Okay! I won't act surprised. Boyfriend," Sammi said with a shit-eating grin.

"So what was little Sammi like in high school to not get a boyfriend?" Nikki asked, pinching Sammi's cheek. Sammi playfully shoved Nikki's hand away from her, acting annoyed even when not.

"Almost like when you met me except quieter with way less attitude. I just studied. Played volleyball. Stayed with my clique all four years. Worked when I was bored and wanted money. I had guys to mess around with but it never lasted more than 2 months," said Sammi. "What about you? What were you like in high school? I bet you had girls throwing themselves at you, wanting to try a bad boy out," Sammi asked, resting on her stomach.

"Well remember, I didn't finish high school. Mainly I would get into fights with guys who stared me down, and steal their girlfriends when they were bored. Be around random guys who didn't want to be in school. That's it. You think we would've hung out in high school?"

"Nik, we're five years apart. We wouldn't be in high school together, that would be illegal,"

"Can you just answer the question without pointing out the obvious, Ms. Bubble Burster?"

Sammi rolled her eyes. "Fine. No, I don't think we would have in high school at all. I hung out with the popular sporty girls whose favorite pastime was being judgy. I would've stayed far away from you unless you became friends with Tommy. Maybe have a secret crush on you,"

"Ouch. Why don't you rip my heart out while you're at it? Right after I called you my girlfriend", Nikki asked, clenching his chest, making Sammi laugh at him.

"Oh shush you'll be fine. Just wait until we're both in Idaho and you'll forget about it," Sammi said, crawling over to kiss Nikki lightly on the lips.

"Speaking of which, I should call the cab already. Are you sure you've packed one hundred percent?" Nikki asked, pushing himself off the bed and zipping up his filled suitcase.

"Yes I am. I'm not going to be freezing my ass off the entire time we're there. I'm ready to sleep for the entire plane ride," Sammi said, stretching her arms over, walking over to Nikki, where she wrapped her arms around his waist from the back. Sammi pressed her chin on Nikki's back, hopeful that the few days can make Nikki forget about the little thing that strained them. He hadn't spoken about it when they called each other, but Sammi told herself that Nikki was a big boy who could take care of himself. She just needed to keep telling herself that.

Middle of Nowhere, Idaho

Sammi held her breath as Nikki drove down the dark, icy roads, scared whenever the rental pick up truck felt like it would skid off into the snowy fields. Nikki knew how to go in this weather, but it didn't stop Sammi from her fear, Nikki glancing every so often to see Sammi's face. He laid a hand on her thigh, whipping his head when Sammi winced away from his touch.

"Both hands on the wheel," Sammi pointed, frowning as she looked out to the white surroundings. Nikki wanted to object but still listened, placing his hands at ten and two.

"Babe, I've driven down these roads more times than you can count. The truck has its brand snow tires and the roads are clear as day," Nikki reassured. "We're going to be fine,"

"That still doesn't ease my mind. You're driving in the dark. And aren't you scared about the black ice?"

"Nope. I'm driving at a nice and for once slow speed to be careful. Besides we're not that far from Tom and Nona's place,"

"How can you even tell? Everything looks the same," Sammi said, changing the radio when static began playing.

"Ya see here city girl, you have to look at the trees and other things to know where you are. You recognize the landmarks of everyone's farm," Nikki said with what Sammi thought could be an Idaho accent. Sammi rolled her eyes, trying not to giggle at being called a city girl, knowing it would encourage Nikki.

"We get it, Country Boy, this isn't L. A or California anymore. The place where there are buildings and people. Maybe even some street lights to see what's going on,"

"Exactly. This country boy knows where we're going. Plus, I gave my grandparents a wood carven sign last Christmas to put in their entranceway," Nikki smiled almost cocky, laughing boyishly at Sammi's annoyed face.

"You're such a little shit," Sammi mumbled, taking off her seatbelt and scooting close to Nikki, putting her head on his shoulder. "Wake me up when we're there,"

"Alright, Sleeping Beauty,"

*

"There's my son! Tom come on, they're here!" Nona yelled out into the two-story farmhouse, standing on the brown wooden wrap-around porch. Tom pushed open the fence gate door, zipping up his heavy coat. Nikki drove through the bumpy pathway that Tom cleared up, laughing every time he and Sammi jumped in their seats. Nikki pulled up close to the front porch, flipping off the ignition, headlights turning off. Sammi jumped out of the pickup, eyes looking down with amazement at her boots, stepping onto the ankle-deep snow. Sammi tried to walk on perfect balance, realizing how difficult it was to maneuver on the ice. Nikki helped by lacing his mitten fingers around Sammi's hand, smiling at Nona and Tom.

"Hi, Nikki!" Nona said in excitement, giving Nikki a big hug on the porch steps patting his back to get rid of any fallen snow. Nona quickly took note of Sammi, wanting to match the same affection she had to Nikki for Sammi, but waited for Nikki to introduce the girl. The couple finally took cover under the porch, Sammi keeping quiet with a soft smile. Tom gave Nikki a quick hug, wanting to head inside to feel the fire he just started.

"Hey, Nona. Hey, Tom. There's someone I'd like you to meet," Nikki said, squeezing Sammi's hand. "This is Sammi. My girlfriend," Sammi waved at the older couple, nervous but noticing how they both smiled happily at the two.

"Hi! It's so good to meet you two. Nikki's said so many things about you guys," Sammi said, reaching out for Nona's hand. Nona shoved Sammi's hand away, wrapping her in a tight hug, cupping her cheeks to look at Sammi.

"Well aren't you just the prettiest. I'm happy to finally meet you," Nona said, kissing Sammi on the cheek. Nona almost passed Sammi to Tom, the older man hugging the small girl at a fast speed. "Nikki has said some things about you too. How about you ladies head inside, Nik and I will get the luggage," said Tom, squeezing Sammi's shoulder.

"Are you sure? I don't mind helping Nikki out myself," Sammi asked as Nikki and Tom carefully stepped down on the frozen steps.

"Oh don't be crazy, let the men do the heavy lifting. I'm sure you're starving. I have chicken pot pies staying warm in the oven," Nona said, softly holding Sammi's arm, leading her into the country style home. The house felt warm, cozy with old wooden style furniture and a brick fireplace. Nona pointed at the coat rack near the door as she disappeared in the kitchen, Sammi scanning the home. It was decorated for Christmas, a green garland wrapped around the staircase with lights. The smell of pine-scented the front of the house, the Christmas tree decorated with white and red bulb ornaments in the living room corner. The gifts Nikki sent out a week before already arranged perfectly under the tree. Sammi sat down at the dining table right in front of the kitchen, peeking over to see if Nona needed help with anything. The chicken pot pie smell wafted through the air, making Sammi's stomach rumble with hunger. Nona placed a hot ramekin on the placemat in front of Sammi, setting an olive green cloth napkin and silver fork.  

"Thank you, Mrs…?"

"You don't need to finish Mrs part, just call me Nona like everyone else. Would you like some iced tea to drink?" asked Nona, fixing her circle-shaped glasses.

"Oh no, I'm good for right now. Thank you so much for dinner. It smells amazing," Sammi said, crack opening the pastry pie crust with the fork, hot steam escaping its shell. She blew on the food in an attempt to cool it, not wanting to burn herself. With one bite, her eyes shot wide to Nona, chewing the juicy chicken.

"Wow, this is really good. I've never had chicken pot pie before," Sammi said, wiping her mouth with the napkin.

"Really? What does your mom cook for you and your siblings then?" Nona asked, placing the rest of the chicken pot pies for Tom and Nikki, sitting right by Sammi.

"She's from Greece so basically every kind of food from there. But I'm definitely adding this to my list of recipes when I get home," Sammi said, taking another bite of food as she could hear Nikki and Tom walk into the home.

"So I assume you're a little chef," Nona asked. Sammi nodded with food in her mouth, looking up beside her when Nikki and Tom entered the dining room. Nikki sat right by Sammi, taking off the wool gloves and breathing to warm his fingers up.

"Nik, you didn't tell me Sammi liked to cook. I'm going to have fun with her on Christmas eve dinner," Nona said with a smile, walking into the kitchen to quickly grab a jug of iced tea. Nikki only began eating, starving from the lack of a proper home-cooked meal that belonged to Nona. Tom started to eat at his own pace.

"That's because Sammi only cooks when she wants to be nice to me," Nikki said, taking another piece of chicken pot pie. Sammi stuck her tongue out at Nikki, making Tom chuckle a little.

"Sounds like Nona when I first met her. She'd only make her specialties when I'd bring her flowers as a thank you," Tom said, grabbing the iced tea that Nona offered him.

"That's because it rarely happened," Nona teased, admiring the happy people eating the food she prepared with love. "The food turned out great for everyone?" Nikki, Sammi, and Tom all nodded in silence, enjoying the savory, creamy dinner.

"Like always, Nona," Nikki said, earning himself a kiss on the crown of his head. "You're not gonna eat?"

"Oh don't worry about me, Nik. I'll be fine," Nona said, sitting right next to Tom.

"So Sam, tell us a bit about yourself? Do you work or are you in school or both?" Tom asked, sipping on the iced tea. Sammi wiped the corner of her mouth, standing up straight in her seat.

"I was in school. I graduated in May and decided to take a year off. I'm actually a secretary at Elektra. Nikki's manager helped me get the job," Sammi answered.

"What degree did you graduate with? Nikki's went on about how you're a smart girl," Nona asked, smirking when Nikki glared at her with subtle annoyance.

"Biology with a minor in Chemistry. I was aiming to become a vet, but I'm not so sure anymore,"

"Well don't worry about not being sure, you're young. You have a whole life ahead of you to decide what you really want," said Tom.

"And with smarts like yours, you'll be just fine!" said Nona, slowly collecting Tom and Nikki's empty plate. Immediately Sammi jumped from her seat, tucking her and Nikki's empty glasses between her arm, grabbing empty ramekins. "Oh, you don't have to clean up, Sammi!" Nona said, about to take the dirty dishes from the young girl.

"I insist, Nona. Take it as my way of saying thank you for letting me in your home," Sammi said, smiling at Nona as the two walked into the kitchen. Sammi carefully laid the ceramic dishes into the sink, looking around for any dish soap.

"It's Tom's turn to load the dishwasher, sweetheart. You can just leave dishes there," Nona said, placing the glass cups and the other dishes. "I'm glad Nikki is looking good after the whole Deana incident. He does look a bit skinny though," Nona said, pouring a glass of iced tea for herself. Sammi leaned against the sink, folding her arms as she remembered the event and let out a sigh.

"I really didn't know how to react when I saw her. I'd never seen Nikki look so shocked and numb before. He broke a whiskey bottle right in front of her," Sammi said, looking down at her winter boots.

"Nikki had a right to be shocked and angry. She may be my daughter, but sometimes I just want to shake her for treating her son so poorly. He's lucky you were there," Nona said, giving Sammi a quick sympathetic grin. "Nikki needs someone there to lift him up. I know he can be a little hard on himself,"

"Well, I'm happy to be there for him. But can I ask a question?" Sammi asked, Nona, nodding for approval. "How was Deana like with Nikki when he was younger? He hasn't really told me anything. It's kind of like pulling teeth with him sometimes,"

"Deana was like a swing with Nikki. She'd say how much she loved her son but then leave him here or put him on a bus by himself. Nikki always wanted to be with her, but I think once he turned a certain age, Nikki could see the truth. So he didn't want to be around her,' Nona said.

"And what about his sister or 'half' like how Nikki always says?"

"Oh, she'd stay with Deana. We rarely had her stay with us like we did Nikki. But of course, if you ask Deana about any of this, she'll say that Tom and I convinced Nikki to be mean to her. All we did was just remind Nikki the door was always open when he wanted to getaway. I love that boy like he was my own son. He pretty much is our son,"

"I think it's amazing how much you both raised Nikki. I know it's made me realize how lucky I am to have my mom and dad,' Sammi said, smiling with sad eyes. Nona patted Sammi on the arm, leaving her cup in the sink right on time for Nikki and Tom to enter the kitchen. "Nikki, perfect timing. I was just about to take Sammi to the living room, and show her some of your baby photos," Sammi shot wide with a grin at Nikki, seeing his frown of embarrassment.

"Uh, I don't think Sammi wants to see any old photos of me," Nikki objected, sliding his arm behind Sammi's back, escorting her out of the kitchen. Sammi turned on her heels, stopping Nikki with a hand on his chest.

"Oh no, on the contrary, Sammi would love to see old photos of you," Sammi said, smiling at Nona. "Come on, a few photos of baby Nikki. Please?" Sammi asked with puppy dog eyes to Nikki.

Nikki huffed out. "Fine, but I'm showing them. Don't want you pulling the ones I hate out of thin air," Nikki told Nona, guiding Sammi out of the kitchen. Tom smiled at the two, kissing Nona on the cheek.

"Does she get the grandmother's approval?" asked Tom, starting to set up the dishwasher.

"I think she does. I can already see a difference in Nik," said Nona.

Nikki and Sammi walked into the cozy living room, freshly vacuumed carpet and Santa Claus statues placed randomly. Sammi sat down on a soft brown loveseat, taking off her heavy boots, glancing at the many framed photos scattered around. The fireplace began losing its flame, Nikki chucking in another log to keep the warmth going, shuffling the burning pieces with the fire iron.

"Oh my god, look at you!" Sammi exclaimed, seeing a yearbook photo right on the fire mantle. Nikki appeared around seven years old in the picture, giving a tiny smile to the camera in his best attire. His hair looked like it was ready for the military, a short blondish square buzz cut that showed Nikki's big forehead. Nikki withheld a groan, wanting to chuck the photo in the fire. "Aww, you're so cute! Nice hair cut by the way," Sammi teased, poking Nikki with her elbow.

"You can thank Tom for that. I hated when my hair looked like that, and it looked like that for years," walking down the mantle to show more photos of young Nikki (or Frank).

"But why? It looks adorable on you," Sammi said in a mocking tone, smiling at Nikki. Nikki pushed up his black hair away from his face, facing Sammi to show his bare forehead. Sammi's loud laugh escaped her lips, finding Nikki's embarrassment amusing to her. Nikki glared right at Sammi, cocking his head to one side. "Does this answer your question? I have a big ass head if you haven't already noticed," said Nikki. Sammi balanced on tippy-toes, kissing Nikki right in the middle of his forehead, then a kiss on the lips. Nikki blushed, dropping his hair, tickling Sammi's face.

"I like your big head. It adds character even though we all know you have plenty of that," Sammi said, stepping away to continue the galley of Nikki. Sammi could see Deana in some of them, looking like a normal mother with her parents by her side.

"Yeah yeah. Keep complimenting me, and maybe I'll upgrade your Christmas gifts," said Nikki, rolling up his sweater's sleeves. Sammi smirked and raised an eye, strolling her way right to Nikki, placing her chin on his chest.

"Well, I like your big head. And I love your big rough hands. And I especially love your big hard-"

"Nona! Tom!" Nikki shouted, hugging Sammi around her shoulders as he smiled at his grandparents like a little boy almost getting caught in mischief. Sammi hugged Nikki, trying not to turn crimson red from the thought Tom and Nona heard her, smiling at the two. "We were just talking about going sledding tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow is perfect for sledding. You can show Sammi the hill you and I would always go to when you were young," Tom said, relaxing on the floral velour recliner.

"That sounds like a great idea, but it's getting late and we need to tell you two about the room situation," Nona addressed, shifting her eyes Nikki and Sammi, pushing up her glasses. Nikki scrunched his eyebrows at Nona, Sammi staying silent. "Now you two aren't married and will be sleeping under our roof. So Nikki you'll be in your old room upstairs, and Sammi in our guest bedroom down here," Nona said, resting her hands on her hips.

"Oh come on, Nona. We aren't going to mess around, we're adults, not teenagers," Nikki objected, pursing his lips out.

"It's alright, Nikki. This is your grandparent's house and they have rules, so we have to follow them. That's just the way it is," Sammi reassured Nona, patting Nikki on the chest. Nikki scoffed, shrugging his shoulder as he let his arm fall from Sammi's frame.

"It's settled then. Sammi, come with me to the room. Nikki, be a gentleman and bring in Sammi's suitcases," Nona said, looping her arm around Sammis and pulling her into the hallway, smiling at Nikki. Nikki only huffed, looking at Tom raise his hands as if he was clueless, enjoying every second of the family.

*

The guest bedroom was small, reminding Sammi of her bedroom in her first apartment. The double bed was placed against the wall, a white iron bed frame that looked as old as the house. An oak armoire facing the door, where Sammi had her suitcase hidden away, stood in the corner. Sammi was already beginning to fall into a deep sleep, the moonlight cascading against her skin from the small window. A soft creak sound slowly made Sammi wake up, barely opening in her eyes. Then a male body jumped on the bed, hiding under the cover. Before Sammi could make a sound, Nikki covered her mouth, quietly laughing at her surprised face.

"What the fuck, Nikki?!" Sammi whispered, feeling Nikki wrap his arms around her waist.

"What? I got lonely up in my room. I missed having a warm body next to me. I haven't had one since Vegas," Nikki whispered, hiding his face in the nape of Sammi's neck, leaving tiny pecks.

"Nik, I don't want to get in trouble with your grandma. We're not married, remember?" Sammi reminded Nikki, bringing his face back to her line of vision.

"And whose fault is that huh? I did ask, remember?" Nikki asked, mocking Sammi's tone, kissing her on the lips. Sammi chuckled at Nikki, feeling her cheeks turn pink. "You have to admit it's fun sneaking in like this?"

"Whatever. You can stay, but make sure you wake up early to go back to your room," Sammi said, cuddling deeper into Nikki's chested, smelling his cologne on his long sleeve sleep shirt.

"Yes, dear," Nikki said, relaxing for some sleep.

December 25th, 1985

Christmas morning

"Okay, we got one last present under the tree! Who's the lucky winner?" Tom announced to the small group, all wearing their pajamas still. Nona in her recliner, while Nikki and Sammi sat on the floor by her. Everyone had been given an equal amount of gifts, five from each person with the added 'Nikki  and  Sammi' to Nona and Tom. Tom grabbed the small red metallic present, reading the name tag from arm's length. "To: Sammi, From: Nikki. Merry Christmas, Princess," Tom readout, shuffling through the torn gift wrapping, passing the box to Sammi. Sammi scowled quizzically at Nikki, ripping the pretty wrapping without a care of how lovely it looked. A thin black velvet box was revealed, making Sammi question more. Nikki only gave a smile, feeling prideful at what he got her. Once opening, Sammi gasped as she saw the necklace. A beautiful black heart pendant on a thin silver chain with tiny red rubies outlining the heart. The stone was custom made to be in the shape it was; Sammi carefully pulling out the necklace to hold for everyone to see. Nona was fast to recognize the stone, glancing at the necklace Nikki was wearing.

"That's cute. You two will be matching," Nona said, smiling proudly at Nikki.

"Do you like it?" Nikki asked, delicately taking the necklace from Sammi, clamping it around her neck.

"Yes! It's so pretty!" Sammi gleamed, kissing Nikki on the cheek and hugging him tightly.

"Now you'll also have powerful protection," Nikki said. "Merry Christmas,"

"Thank you," Sammi smiled, touching the necklace as she noticed Nona and Tom looking lovingly at the pair.

"Well if that's all for gifts, I'm going to start breakfast! Hope everyone is ready for pancakes!" Nona announced, carefully getting up from the recliner. Tom immediately helped at her side, taking hold of one arm. Nikki noticed the slowness of his grandmother but knew she wouldn't have admitted to anything.

"And don't worry Sammi, I'm helping out this time," Tom said as the old couple left to make breakfast.

"Are you loving Christmas so far?" Sammi asked Nikki.

"Yeah I can honestly say this has been the best Christmas I've had. I'm happy you're here to celebrate it with us," Nikki said, kissing Sammi on the lips and holding her hand.

"Of course. Maybe next year, Nona and Tom can come down to L.A for a 'warm' Christmas. Have them see your growing goth castle," Sammi suggested.

"I would love that," Nikki smiled, sighing out loud with contentedness, bringing Sammi into his chest as they watched the snowfall from the window. Everything felt perfect.  

[itsreallylaterightnow]

Let’s Just Order Take Out From Now On for @blondsak

Aunt May’s always been a pretty bad cook, but never before had she poisoned her nephew

It was just going to be a simple weekend together. It was a long weekend for Peter with school, so he, May, and Happy decided to take a trip up to the compound. They had driven up on Friday as soon as Peter got out of decathlon practice. Peter and Tony had spent hours working in the lab until Pepper had called them up for a movie night.

Saturday had been a day filled with sparring and lab work. Tony and Peter had been eating a late breakfast when Peter had - looking at his waffles - said, “I wonder if I could stick to a non-stick pan?” And it had turned into a four-hour evening of seeing if there was anything Peter couldn’t stick to. The answer had been, so far, nothing.

May had walked into Tony’s lab at 4:30 to find Peter and Tony sitting crisscross on the floor, Peter’s hand in a bowl of water.

“What on earth is happening?” she asked, furrowing her brows as neither of the boys looked at her. She cleared her throat.

“Testing out… to see if I can stick,” Peter had responded, eyes glued to the bowl of water in concentration.

“Stick to what, exactly?”

“Water,” Peter had responded.

“Wow. Alright well. when that fails, you two come on up to the family floor. Dinner is almost ready.” And, watching them with genuine interest as to why they were both considered genius’, she stepped out of the hall.

Peter and Tony turned up in the kitchen not much later, looking disappointed.

“I can’t believe that I don’t stick to water,” came a grumble from Peter.

“But you do stick to wet things. I don’t really understand why you can’t stick to water.” Suddenly Peter perked up, whipping his head around to look at Tony.

“Do you think I could walk on water? Like those water spiders do?”

“I think that since the spider that bit you wasn’t a water spider… then probably not.” Peter just hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He turned to see May and Happy standing at the kitchen island chopping up pickles.

“Are those the- “

“Pickles I made myself last year? Yes, yes, they are,” she had said, a proud smile crossing her face. Peter had smiled before laying across the island to reach into the jar. She swatted at his hand, but he came away from the jar with a pickle, nonetheless.

“You’re going to ruin your dinner!” she jabbed as she resumed chopping. Peter took a big, crunchy bite before leaning forward and grabbing the rest of the jar.

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure I could eat every jar of these pickles and then some and still be hungry enough for dinner. Enhanced metabolism and all,” he had joked. May just set aside the few pickles she had chopped and continued on with cooking.

Peter ended up eating the whole jar, and he could attest to the fact that pickles were one of the few foods his aunt could make well.

They were halfway through dinner, Peter thoroughly enjoying the potato salad when May gasped and buried her face into her hands.

“I’m so dumb! I knew the potato salad was missing something!” Peter looked down where his fork was digging in.

“What’s it missing? It tastes great.” May just gave him a look.

“I chopped up the pickles for it but never put them in.” She went to stand, but Happy grabbed her arm.

“Sit and enjoy your dinner, it tastes just fine without the pickles,” he said, smiling.

“Are you sure? Because it’ll just take a sec- “

“I’m sure. Come on, this is great.” And just like that, it was forgotten.

After dinner, the crew migrated to the living room to watch another movie. Peter had ended up on the corner of the couch, feet tucked under Tony’s legs for warmth as the group watched Good Will Hunting. Peter smacked his lips; his mouth was uncannily dry. He reached down for his water and took a sip. It didn’t help very much, but he really didn’t think anything of it.

As the night progressed, Peter let out a yawn. He moved his mouth around, his face feeling a bit strange. All of the work with Tony had really taken it out of him. By the time the movie was finished Peter was exhausted. His eyelids weighed him down.

“I’m going to head to bed guys,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

“Spider-baby’s already sleeping? You’re getting old on me Pete,” Tony joked as he put his arm around Pepper.

“Yeah well, during all of our – tests, who’s the one doing all the work?” Tony had just chuckled before saying a goodnight.

Peter brushed his teeth quickly before slipping into his pajamas. His stomach felt a bit tight, and he guessed he must have been much more tired than he had thought. He climbed into his bed with a groan, going to scrunch his eyes closed. His face felt oddly… weak? Like he couldn’t move the muscles like he normally could. But the pull of sleep drowned out any thoughts he may have had about the strange feeling.

*****

Waking up to his spider-sense going haywire was never something Peter enjoyed. He would jerk awake with a gasp, looking around frantically to find the problem. But this time when the creeping sense of danger spiked and Peter woke up, he could hardly move.

God, he felt terrible. His throat and mouth felt like they were stuffed with cotton, he could barely breathe, and within a second, he realized he was about to throw up. Peter went to turn over and found himself flailing awkwardly. It was as though his arms and legs were weighed down by ten tons. He could hardly get them to move. He grunted, turning himself on his side, and puked off the side of the bed.

“Fri-," his voice cracked like he hadn’t drunk water for a week. “Lights… Tony…” He tried to stand, needed water. He didn’t even make it to a semi-standing position before he ended up on his face – thanking God that he hadn’t fallen in the vomit. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t breathe, and he had no clue what was happening.

The lights flickered on in the room, but it didn’t matter because he was just staring at the wall opposite him, dragging in ragged breaths.

He heard pounding footsteps coming down the hall. Tony. Tony would make this better.

“Peter! Pete!” Someone fell on their knees beside him, and hands were rolling Peter over. He stared up at Mr. Stark’s face. The man looked about three seconds away from passing out himself. “FRIDAY, call Helen. Have her meet me in the Med bay. What’s wrong with him? Is he safe to move?” Peter’s spinning brain couldn’t keep up with everything Tony said.

“Dr. Cho is on her way, I am unable to get a read on the reaction Mr. Parker is having, although it looks to be some kind of poisoning. He is safe to move; I would recommend immediate medical treatment.” By the time FRIDAY was saying ‘treatment’ Tony had already lifted a completely limp Peter into the air. The man grunted at the deadweight but took off down the hall.

“Open the elevator, take us to floor three.”  

The events were swirling around Peter. His chest felt like it had when Toomes had dropped the building on him, and he couldn’t move anything. He wanted to throw up, but it seemed as though his stomach was paralyzed as well. He was seeing double Tony’s staring at him.

“You’re alright. Just breathe, okay? Helen’s going to meet us in the Med bay. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.” Tony was staring down at him looking frazzled, his eyes wide with anxiety. Peter wanted to respond, to tell Tony he was sorry for freaking him out so bad, but his vision was getting darker and darker as the cracking wheezes rattled from his throat. He wanted to explain that he had no idea why he was feeling like this, that he hadn’t done anything reckless to get sick. He felt them moving again, then there were new voices.

“Get him on the bed! FRIDAY, run-down on symptoms. Stark, grab the oxygen mask from behind you.” Peter could hear FRIDAY’s voice, but things were making less and less sense. Something was put over his face, a cool rush of oxygen pulsed into his mouth. He would have sighed with relief if he could have. Then a hand was on his eyes, and something so bright was being shone in them. He grunted again.

A hand slipped into Peter’s loose one, and he felt it squeeze.

“Peter, can you squeeze my hand back?” Helen’s voice came from… somewhere. She was asking him to do something. He liked Helen. Wanted to do what she asked – but he couldn’t remember what it was anymore. “Peter can you hear me?” Who was Peter? Why was he hearing someone? He didn’t know.

He got one last glimpse of a worried face – felt a sharp pain in his stomach – inability to move – couldn’t breathe – it was getting dark again.

*****

Peter woke up to a quiet beeping beside his head. The first thing he felt was the oxygen mask over his mouth, pushing cool air into his lungs. He could feel an IV in his arm, and a soft hand in his. He heard quiet sniffles beside him.

With a mammoth effort he peeled his eyes open, looking down to see May, face buried in the mattress with his hand gripped in hers. He could see her shoulders shaking as she cried. Peter licked his lips as he squeezed her hand.

She shot up suddenly, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Hey baby, oh God it’s good to see you awake,” her voice shook as she raked her free hand through his hair. Peter blinked heavily.

“Wh’re y’o cryin’?” he muttered, and he had no clue how she understood him, but she did. “Am I dyin’?”Her face visibly paled at that, and Peter caught movement from a chair behind her. Mr. Stark looked exhausted, his eyes dark and his hair was a mess as he stepped beside May.

“You’re not dying. Well, not anymore. You’ll be fine,” Tony said, his voice firm. “Your aunt took a page out of my ‘self-deprecation’ hand-book,” Tony said, as May flashed him a dirty look.

“Wha’ happened?” he asked, reaching a clumsy hand up to the mask. Tony caught him before he made it and pushed his hand back onto the mattress.

“Let’s leave that there until Helen says otherwise.”

           May sniffled and looked down. “I poisoned you. I- the pickles… it was Botulinum poisoning in the pickles. I- I’m so sorry, Peter. I can’t believe – I don’t…” She broke off, looking down as more tears trailed down her face.

           “You didn’t mean to. Plus, ‘m fine,” Peter said, but he felt his eyelids growing heavier again, the exhaustion of the … well, he didn’t know how long this whole ordeal had been, but the exhaustion was prevalent anyways. “It’s a good thing you didn’t put them in the potato salad,” he muttered. That would’ve been bad since they didn’t have spider-healing. Peter felt his chest tightening as he thought of May, Happy, Tony, or Pepper having gone through the same thing he had.

           “Hey, bud – you alright?” Tony asked, and Peter noticed the heart monitor was steadily increasing its pace as he forced a few deep breaths.

           “I’m fine. I’m fine.” He muttered, noticing how neither adult in the room believed him.

           “Yeah, well – it’s hard not to blame yourself when you poison your nephew,” she said. She wouldn’t look at him. He hated that she wouldn’t look at him, so he squeezed her hand harder.

           “May, it’s not your fault. Please don’t – don’t feel guilty. It happens,” he had said, stifling a yawn.

           “It does not happen, Peter. I’ve never heard of anyone else poisoning their-” He squeezed her hand again.

           “Don’t. ‘m fine. Plus, I’m really tired, and I won’t be able to sleep if you’re crying by my bed,” he teased, blinking heavily.

           “Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?” she said, but Peter smiled softly as he heard the guilt leaving her voice.

           “Eh, that’s okay.” He closed his eyes, sighing at the feeling of her hands in his hair once more. “Let’s just order takeout from now on.”

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Five

Fake It Until You Make It Real

Friday night by seven o'clock found Louis being served a plate of steak, baked shell mac and cheese, honey buttered rolls, and a small side salad as he graded his papers.

"Thank you." Louis said looking up at Harry briefly as he sat to his left, "I could have helped you know."

"The only thing you need to do is one never do work at my dining table again and two eat." Harry said glaring at him playfully, "I have an office y'know, I have a spare office even if you wanted that for yourself. My dining table is not your desk."

"You're the one that demanded to keep conversation going about wedding flowers while I had to grade. I was moving to the coffee table. But I promise I won't turn your dining table into my desk."

"Good. Now eat." Louis rolled his eyes but set his red pen down and moved the graded stuff into his bag and the unmarked stuff to the living room coffee table for now. Returning to his seat he grabbed his fork and dug into his side salad first wanting to taste the homemade dressing Harry made.

"My mom is going to love you and demand to know how you made me eat a salad." Louis grumbled as he shoved another forkful into his mouth glaring at Harry.

"I'll be sure to give her my recipe." Harry said, "I use to cook with my mom almost every night, so I learned a thing or two."

"Now I feel like I shouldn't even try to cook your dinner. I'll disappoint you."

"Never. I just got into cooking because I have an empty house all the time. You have Freddie who gets hungry in five minutes and expects food in ten. You're not obligated to try and impress me with your cooking. If it's edible I'm happy. Doesn't even have to be warm. I'll eat cold food if I'm hungry enough. Hannah actually left out frozen pizzas or canned soup for me all the time. Most of the time the pizza was thawed by the time I got home and so it wasn't good to cook and the soup I would just open and eat without heating it."

"She didn't make you dinner?"

"Nope."

"Well, I guess I don't have to best her at being the better housewife." Harry choked on his beer and laughed as he wiped his mouth off.

"If there was a competition, I promise you, you have already won it.  Anyway, speaking of your soon to be married title I picked up our engagement rings. Yes, I got us matching ones so the nurses can stop trying to persuade me into being straight. I’ve been telling them I’ve had a boyfriend for months and I think they don’t believe me.”

“Should I come by to your work to give you lunch one day? Be extra flirty?”

“Would you?” Louis laughed looking down at his plate, “I’m serious over here.”

“Sure, I’ll come over in my tightest pair of pants and your sweater I have at my house.”

“I have the perfect pullover hold on.” Louis opened his mouth to tell Harry to sit down but Harry was already running up the stairs by the time the words registered in his brain. Harry came back down on a minute later with a white pullover and when he spread it out, he saw STYLES was written on the back with the letter ‘19’ on the front and back.

“The hospital has a football team to encourage exercise and outdoor play. I bloody suck at football, but as my boyfriend you support me anyway.”

“Fiancé and give it.”

“Soon to be fiancé.” Harry countered with a grin as he handed the pullover to Louis who laid it with his other stuff in the living room. “Just come in wearing that and they’ll…hopefully back off.”

“Oh, they’ll back off. I can be mean if I want to be.”

“You’re the best.”

*********

Saturday morning Harry was waking Louis up in the guest room with French Toast, bacon, and three poached eggs.

“Eat, get ready, we should leave in two hours.”

“Go away.” Louis groaned, “Why did I agree to do this today?”

“Because you and I both know it’ll be easier to do wedding things without Freddie there. As much as I adore him, it would be very boring. See you downstairs.” Louis glared at Harry’s retreating back then turned his attention to the plate of breakfast and decided getting up this early was an even trade for breakfast that looked that good. Louis ate his breakfast quickly then got dressed for a day outside in the late September weather. He took his plate downstairs and put it in the dishwasher and turned to Harry as he laid out on the couch, his phone in his hands.

“Are you taking a selfie?” Louis asked grinning when Harry stretched his neck to look at him with a beet red face.

“I’m snapchatting Maddie. Meanie.”

“Meanie?! Wow. I’m impressed. For a doctor you certainly have a way with words.” Harry grinned rolling his eyes before looking back at his phone, “You take selfies weird.”

“There is no wrong way to take a picture you  child. Stop making fun of me.” Louis laughed and headed to him, hands on his hips as he stood where his head was resting on the arm of couch.

“Ready to go old man?” Harry laid his phone on his chest facing upwards and looked at him with a soft smile on his lips, “What?”

“I bet you looked cute pregnant.”

“Really? That’s what you are thinking about? Well for the record I most certainly did not look cute pregnant. My ex made sure to tell me that everyday too. He wouldn’t even give a hand if you know what I mean when my stomach was in the way.”

“You’re joking.” Louis shook his head, “What a douche. Why did you like him?”

“The sex was good. I was young and naïve. He gave great head all things considered.” Harry laughed, “What? It’s true. Why’d you stay with Hannah for so long?”

“It wasn’t the sex I can tell you that much. When we were about to break up, we found out she was pregnant, so we stayed together. We had been having a hard time in uni, so we were discussing breaking it off but then she told me she was late one night, and I got a pregnancy test for her and it was positive. Honestly, I don’t even remember the last time I had sex…god I’m lame.” Louis laughed as Harry swung his legs to the ground and pushed himself up, “Ready then?”

“Yeah, come on virgin Mary.”

“Not funny. When was the last time you got laid?”

“Point taken. Moving on.” Louis said grabbing Harry’s pullover he gave him yesterday and pulling it on as they left the house. Louis slid into the passenger seat of Harry’s Murano as Harry got into the driver’s seat. “Where are we headed first?”

“I figured we’d do what will take us the longest first which is our venue. They’re all south of us as well except one. Want to start with the furthest one out which is four hours out. Ready?”

“I’m taking a nap on the road.”

“Go ahead.”

As predicted the venue looking took all day, but it wasn’t taxing at all. Most of the venues they were able to walk around alone or with just one staff member. The colorful leaves on the trees, not yet having fallen down, made every location look breath taking and each venue had pictures of what it would look like in the winter. It was relaxing really, and since Harry had only written down the ones that had the 19th available, they didn’t have to worry about falling in love with a place only for it to not be free that date. Louis held Harry’s hand throughout the day watching as he charmed his way through staff members and watching as his eyes lit up when he saw the snowy landscapes. There had been one staff member that hadn’t taken his eyes off of Harry for more than a few seconds that Louis shut down with a raised brow that made Harry blush and grin widely trying to pretend he had no idea what just happened and why the staff member didn’t look at Harry any more than appropriate after that. When they got to the SUV Harry had pinch him and exclaimed, they could not pick that venue for fear of a staff member ruining their wedding because of Louis. Louis had laughed and continued to laugh as they drove to the other venue. By the time they got home the sun was set and they had grabbed takeout on the road then relaxed on the couch watching a movie as they talked about the venues and what they liked and didn’t like until they had narrowed it down to their top three.

You guys will be able to have a say in the venue! The reason it has taken so long is because as an American I have no idea about wedding venues in the UK. So I've been googling and I've only selected the ones that had Winter pictures so we all get an idea of what it looks like. In the comments go ahead and comment your favorite! It can be you only favorite or your top three! I do have three favorites that I am in love with writing a scene with.  The Mills Wedding Venue didn't have many winter photos so I encourage everyone to google all the locations as well to get a good feel of them. I LOVE ALMOST EVERY SINGLE ONE SO THIS IS ALL UP TO YOU! I'll be counting Wattpad, Tumblr, and Archive's comments as they come until I am writing the chapter. If you need better pictures they will be on my tumblr page! LarryFanficWriter!

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 10

~*~Sebastian~*~

 I parked next to Emma, grabbed the food, and followed her into the condo. The door opened directly into the family room. There were wood floors with a large patina gray and blue area rug. She had one of those couches with a chaise on one end. There was an oversized chair with an ottoman in the same dark gray. Tables sat at either end of the couch. Natural light flooded the room from a window on one wall and French doors on the other. A TV hung in the corner of the front door and window wall with a fireplace between the TV and windows. Pillows in a blue to match the rug and a dark berry were tossed on the chair and in the corner under the TV were a stack of three big floor cushions. My guess was they were for sitting in front of the fire. The room felt comfortable. I wanted to jump onto the chaise and hug one of the berry pillows.

I followed Emma's lead and kicked my shoes off in the entry. I don't wear shoes in my place either. New York streets are disgusting. I don't want that shit tracked through my home.

 She headed left to the kitchen. It was an open floor plan with a breakfast bar separating the two rooms. Grey fabric bar stools tied the areas together. Lower cabinets where black, uppers white, Carrara marble counter tops, and black appliances. There was another window over the farmhouse sink.

 "Wow. I love your kitchen." 

She smiled at me over her shoulder, "Thank you." 

I almost lost the ability to breathe. Her shy smile dropped my heart to my knees. She looked so beautiful with her hair messed up from where she'd pulled it out of the ponytail. Seeing her against the backdrop of her house... breath taking. 

I put our food on the bar, "Can I use your bathroom?" 

"Of course." She pointed to a door in the far corner of the kitchen. "Ignore the clothes." 

I closed the door behind me. Laundry room and bathroom. Convenient. There was a pile of folded clothes on a long counter across from the washer and dryer. 

When I came out, she had lunch set out. I sat on the stool next to her and put the roll I'd grabbed for her in the top of her take out container, "For you." 

"Thank you." 

I jumped in where we left off at Whole Foods. "It's really thoughtful how you use people's names."

 "I think everyone likes to hear their name and most people don't even look at the person checking them out or bringing their food." She looked over from her salad, "It may sound naive, but I hope that small nicety makes their day better."

"Wouldn't be surprised if it did. I don't think it’s naive. It's nice. Lots of people don't think to do the nice thing. Those small acts of kindness can change the world for someone." 

"Our brains involuntarily respond to the sound of our own names, even if we're unable to respond to or act on anything else." She smirked, "Can you ignore it when someone yells your name?" 

I'd just shoved a forkful of salad in my mouth. I chewed and shook my head. "Nope." I pointed my fork at my ear. "I wear earbuds a lot." I cringed, "Don't take that the wrong way. When I'm at an event or on a stage and people are screaming my name it's... fantastic and humbling. I'd be crushed if they stopped. But when I'm going about my day it's easier. I know people who can ignore hearing their name, but I can't. So, if I hear my name I look over and usually it’s taken as an ok to come over and talk." I cringed again. "It is. I like talking to fans. I love hearing stories. Most people aren't rude." My shoulders slumped, "Sometimes I just want to get to the subway and go to my friend's place." I shrugged and tilted my head, looking at her, "Earbuds." 

She nodded, "I get it. Those guys at the restaurant weren't rude and didn't stay too long." 

"I don't like when someone interrupts when I'm eating. They waited and, like you said, didn't stay too long." 

She looked curious, "What if they had?" 

"The hostess recognized me, so management knew we were there. Usually, if someone stays too long or lots of people start coming over, management will clear them away. If they hadn't, I would have gotten us out of there." 

She laughed, "Do you always know an exit route?" 

"Not even close." I laughed too, "I'm good at winging it." 

She ran her hand down my bicep, "If I made you uncomfortable, l'm sorry." 

I'd done a lot of cringing in the last few minutes. "Nothing to be sorry about. I'd rather you ask." Pretty sure I was looking uncomfortable again. "I don't want you to think I don't realize how blessed I am." 

Emma stopped me with another touch on my arm, "Not at all, Sebastian. Privacy shouldn't be the price you pay for doing what you love." 

This would also be a perfect time for a kiss. However, one of us had a mouthful of blue cheese and spinach. 

It wasn't me.

 We laughed and talked about the gym while finishing eating. There was a lot to laugh about from the yoga class. The woman who kept shushing us scared me. It was a good thing Emma got us out of there. She didn't believe me and laughed. When she laughs, she gets the cutest dimple in her cheek. Just one. Left cheek.

 Emma closed the lid on what was left of her salad, "You were right. The roll was delicious." 

"I would never lie about bread." I was finished too and closed the lid.

 Emma stuffed the containers back in the bag then into a garbage can under the sink. She came back around the breakfast bar, "I'll get you towels and show you where everything is."

 I grabbed my bag and followed her up the stairs. The bathroom was the first door on the right. Emma opened the second door, pulled out a set of towels and a washcloth, and handed them to me. "Thank you."

 "No problem." She pointed to the third door. "That's the guest room. You can use it if you want. I'll meet you back downstairs."

 I nodded and walked into the bathroom. When I pulled my phone out of my shorts, I noticed the blinking light. My mom texted asking what time I'd be home and when I was leaving tomorrow. Fuck. I was taking the train back to the city tomorrow morning. I leaned on the counter and looked at myself in the mirror. I watched myself start to smile. I rolled my eyes. I wasn't taking a train anywhere in the morning.

 Naturally, I over thought this in the shower. There were tradeoffs to be made. I felt guilty blowing off helping my parents to go to a festival with Emma. If I stayed through tomorrow it would negate skipping out today. I could leave Monday morning. But that was the holiday. Schools are closed. Wonder if Emma has plans? I had plans Monday, but nothing I couldn't skip out on.

 I realize I've only known her twenty-four hours and I'm making decisions based on the rest of the day going well. I don't know why it wouldn't. This has been good and fun. Who the hell knows where it will go, but there's a little voice telling me not to go home yet.

 I beat her downstairs and sent a few texts updating my plans while stretched out on the chaise. The remote was on the table next to me. I hit the power button and brought up something like Netflix, but wasn't.

 I heard Emma come down the stairs and looked over, "Hey, what's this Plex thing?"

 She sat down on the other end of the couch. Too far away. "You look really good in that color, Seb."

 I looked down to see what I'd put on. Dark red t-shirt. "Thanks."

 Emma smiled and nodded to the TV, "My father digitized his entire movie and TV series collection. Plex organizes everything. It's like your own personal Netflix."

 I'd been poking around for a little while, "This is cool. How does it group things into collections?"

 "We do it. I can sign into the server and add things to favorites or fuck around with Amy's."

 I clicked on Fave-Emma. "You like a lot of reality TV."

 Emma laughed, "That’s Amy messing with me. I hate reality TV. It's like the worst parts of people sensationalized for the masses. I don't like watching people be horrible to each other. I don't like people being put in prescribed situations and rewarded for being nasty."

 It was cute how worked up she was. I must have smiled.

 "What?"

 I raised my shoulders, "No Survivor or Keeping up with the Kardashian's for you."

 She understood I was teasing, "Or Big Brother or American MasterChef. Australian MasterChef is good. I like Great British Bake off and The Repair Shop. Polite British reality TV."

 "What about movies?"

 Her demeanor changed to wide eyed excitement. "Oh, they're completely different. They're not real people being horrible. It's scripted. I love in movies what I hate in reality TV. One of my favorite movies is 'Closer' and it's," she shook her head and cringed, "harsh."

 I startled, "With Natalie Portman?"

 She nodded, "Love it. It's one of the most honest movies I've ever seen."

 I sat up, threw my head back, and put my hand up, pretending to be exasperated. "Honest? Everyone in that movie was a big fat liar." Her smile let me know she recognized the quote from the movie.

 "Everyone is incredibly unlikable, but Larry didn't lie."

 I raised my eyebrows.

 She stuck her tongue out a little and pointed at me, "He was a horrible person, but not a liar. He was so hurt when Anna cheated."

 I leaned forward, "No, no, no. That scene was horrifying."

 "Yes, but it was real in how people can destroy each other. The whole interchange where he wanted to know all the details. Where they were, what they did. He even asked what the other guy's cum tasted like." She fell back onto the couch. “In a movie full of lies that was the most honest thing I've ever seen." 

I leaned back, mirroring her. Partly because I wanted to pounce on her. The back and forth had been fun with both of us fervently involved in the conversation. Then she used the words “what his cum tasted like” and my brain short circuited a little. I laced my fingers on my chest and thought. I turned my head to look at her, "You're right. I remember sitting in the theater with my mouth hanging open. I thought it was the language, because it was almost obscene. Only now... I wonder if it was because it was a brutally unsanitized version of a break up."

 She smiled and shrugged one shoulder, "Made you think."

 "It's the teacher in you."

"Occupational hazard."

Important question. "Are first grade teachers allowed to say the word cum?"

She drew her eyebrows down with a look of disgust, "Not in front of the children."

 I laughed so loud I startled myself.

Emma shook her head, stood up, and held out her hand to me, "Let's go play, Sebastian."

 I took her hand, letting her pull me up. I put up enough resistance for her to drag me out the door. As soon as I closed the vehicle door behind her, I realized I'd missed the perfect moment. When she pulled me off the couch, I should have pulled her back, taken her in my arms, and kissed her.

I fucking missed it. Again.

 We pulled out and Emma told me which way to go. “One of my favorites is similar. Husbands and Wives. It’s funny and tragic. It’s real too. You'd probably like it. Godfather. Lots of classics for the acting and film making. I loved Boogie Nights.  Life of a male porn star. I enjoyed seeing how the porn industry worked."

"Tempted?" Mischief was in those green eyes.

 "Porn and acting aren't always so very different. Scum bags in both."  I wanted to hear more from her. "What do you love besides fucking cavemen?" Another quote from Closer.

 "Um, Sliding Doors. Princess Bride. I like trilogies. Lord of the Rings is the best thing ever. The extended cuts. Dad is a huge Tolkien fan. He read us the Hobbit when we were little. We couldn't focus on reading the Fellowship, but the movies worked. Loved The Force Awakens.”

I could tell by what she didn’t say she wasn't in love with number two, "Opinion on Last Jedi?"

 "Hated everything about Canto Bight. They made Poe both stupid and sexist." She growled, "Fucked up script."

 I nodded. I was biting my tongue. I wasn’t a stranger to fucked up scripts. I wanted to ask. She would tell the truth, which was good, but I didn't know the way she'd go. Next stoplight I looked over, "Dare I ask?"

 She laughed, "Don't care for the Hulk. Like Spiderman and Ant Man only in ensemble movies, not the solo films. Love Tony's genius and arrogance. I almost peed my pants because of fat Thor. Love Wanda and Nat. Love everyone in Guardians except Peter Quill and not just because he could have stopped Thanos. I thought I just didn't like Pratt because I didn’t like him in 10 Years and Parks and Rec, but loved Jurassic World. So its Peter. I can watch baby Groot dance all day. Did I miss anybody?" Her eyebrows were pulled down with the question she was facetiously asking.

I went with it. "Falcon. Hawkeye, Vision." Left out a couple of major players. The one’s I really wanted an opinion on. I put the ball back in her court.

"Snarky fun, steady, a bit over bearing." I just nodded and we were quiet. A few seconds passed before she put her hand on my arm, "I can't keep this up. Seems mean."

"A little teasing never hurt me."

 She smiled and went on. "At the beginning Steve and Bucky were all boy. They ragged on each other and I didn't really care for either. I know they were best friends, but I didn’t like how they interacted. Bucky was cocky and dismissive of Steve. Steve was annoying in his earnestness. I liked how the characters grew. Beautiful bad boy, who’s not really bad. I like broken characters. Bucky is definitely broken. Was broken. We'll see."

 I was good with her take on Bucky and Steve. I don’t completely disagree. "I hear there are plans for Bucky."

"You would know."

I nodded, "You thought Bucky was beautiful?" I said this with a straight face and looked at the road.

"Wanna know a secret?" 

I guessed she didn't want to answer, "Sure."

"Bucky is much hotter than Steve."

"I think I'm glad to hear that." Yeah, more than good with her opinion.

 Parking was a bitch. The positive about parking so fucking far away is I got to walk a couple of blocks down the street holding my date's hand. It's amazing how sometimes the simplest things make me happiest. Right now, I'm pretty damn happy.

[shivae]

Decided to just finish it and upload it this morning. :D Finish ONE MORE and then I can start a new story.

Marianne sat on her back porch, working on her laptop, listening to the sounds of Bog preparing his grill in his own yard. There was an open gate in the wooden fence between their yards. The door had long since fallen off its hinges, and Bog occasionally came through it to mow her backyard when he did his own. They had small yards. Marianne’s was nothing but grass because she just didn’t have time to do anything with it.

Bog’s yard was full of his mother’s projects, a lush garden, colorful decorations, flowers, and birds. His mother put out bird feeders and often sat on the porch, drinking tea and watching her birds. She talked to them, usually loud enough for Marianne to hear.

Sitting in the backyard was a step away from the constantly churning news cycle. The news was depressing and a little frightening, with little change in what was going on, other than repetition. Tonight, at midnight, the county was officially going into a stay at home lockdown. That was fine. Marianne was prepared, and honestly, it would cause little change in her life.

Other than the fact she couldn’t go strolling downtown for a good cup of coffee anytime she wanted to, things would seem kinda normal. It was such a small thing, that tiny little bit of freedom she took for granted. Marianne sighed, looking out over her yard, listening to the sounds of yard work going on nearby. She sat for a few minutes, knowing she was just stalling.

There was something wrong with Bog, and she knew she did it to him. She had been waiting for him to go into his room and saw the look on his face before he saw her. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him, and she had. Marianne chose her words based on what she thought would shock his mother, not what would affect Bog, and she felt terrible about it now.

With a sigh, she set her laptop aside and stood. For a moment, she gathered herself, then walked off her porch and up to the gate. She peeked through it to see Bog sitting on the edge of his back porch, watching his charcoal grill.

“Bog!” Marianne called out to him, keeping her voice low. He looked up, and she gestured for him to join her. Bog glanced back into his house, then got up and slowly trudged to the fence.

“Shouldn’t take too long.” Bog stated, stopping at the gate, leaning against the fence, so it wasn’t obvious he was talking to her. “I made a salad to go with it and am steaming fresh zucchini.”

Marianne sighed, and they were silent for a few minutes, long enough to make them both uncomfortable. “Bog, I’m sorry for what I said.”

“No problem, I know ye didn’t mean it, and it doesn’t matter anyway,” Bog mumbled in response. “Not like I would ever try that.”

“And why wouldn’t you?” The words left Marianne’s mouth before she could stop them. She grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I like things the way they are,” Bog stated. It was easier talking to Marianne if he didn’t have to look at her. “I, I don’t want to lose ye. I wouldn’t want ye talking about me to someone else like ye talk about yer ex.”

Marianne’s eyes widened at the thought. How could Bog think he was in any way like her awful ex? It wasn’t even possible. There was no way.

“Bog, you aren’t Roland,” said Marianne, fighting with a sudden wave of emotion to make this right. “Don’t ever think you are.”

“I’m a man. Ye kinda hate them.” Bog whispered, leaning his head against the fence, staring up at the clear sky overhead.

“I do not hate men,” grumbled Marianne, edging closer to the edge of the gate. “I like you.”

“I’m going to go now. Need to get the steaks. How do ye like yers?” Bog shuffled a few steps forward, glancing at the opening.

“I say I like you, and you’re going to walk away?” Marianne peered through the opening, glaring at Bog, her mouth set into an annoyed line.

Bog looked at her blankly, unsure of what to do. “Yes?” He began fidgeting with his fingers, shifting his attention to his hands. “Yes.”

“Wow, you are really that stubborn?” Marianne scowled, her golden-brown eyes blazing with intensity. “Come here, Bog.”

“Why?” Bog stared at her suspiciously. He took a step back.

“If you don’t come here right now, I’m going into your yard.” Marianne disappeared. “I will.”

Bog swallowed, frozen where he stood with indecision. He took too long. Marianne stepped through the gate and walked up to Bog, stopping in front of him, a few inches away, staring up into his face. She reached out with both hands, laying them on his, sliding them along his arms.

“Bog, I know how you are, and I know who you are. I know how anxious you get, but maybe if we spend more time together in person, eventually, you’ll get more comfortable with me.” Marianne gazed into his eyes, those elusive blue eyes that she had continually caught glimpses of today.

“Marianne,” Bog sighed. “I don’t want things to change.”

“Seriously, how are they changing? We’re just removing computers and game consoles to be around each other face to face.” Marianne’s hands slid down Bog’s arms, ending up at his hands, her fingers sliding into his.

“Ye don’t understand what I’m saying,” groaned Bog, unable to pull away, still frozen to where he stood. He grimaced, making an array of pained, frustrated faces, trying to find the right words. “This, this is all I have. It’s all I can hope for. I do not want to risk it going away, then I won’t have anything.” It took a lot out of him to say it.

Marianne frowned, letting his hands go to step forward and slide her arms around Bog’s waist, hugging him tightly as he lifted his arms in confusion. “Don’t you think after over five years of spending pretty much every day together online and being actual neighbors, I would get to know you really well?”

“And if it went away, if you went away, and I didn’t have that anymore, don’t you understand why I don’t want to risk it?” Bog replied sadly. “I can’t think of anything worse than screwing up and still having ye as my neighbor, but not being able to ever talk to ye again.”

“I love you, Bog.” The words erupted in a small sob, with Marianne pressing her face into his chest, unable to look at him and see his reaction. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, years. I never brought it up for the same reasons you’re giving me, but now there’s no way things aren’t going to change. If our relationship is screwed up, then I’ll do it.”

Bog dropped his arms around Marianne, squeezing her tight, lowering his head to nuzzle the top of her head, kissing her, resting his face for a moment against her hair. How much had he wanted to do this? He trembled and took a breath. “For years? I loved ye from the moment we met, Marianne. Ye are so amazing and so beautiful, so out of my league. I was just happy ye wanted to be my friend.”

And they held each other for the moment, everything else forgotten. Neither one saw Griselda peering through the window into her backyard and smiling. She quickly backed away from the window, not wanting to let on she had seen them. Chuckling to herself, she went off to go tell her friends what she had just seen.

-=-=-=-=-

“So, where do we go from here?” Marianne smiled as she sat at a small folding table on her back porch with two chairs pulled up to it. She set it up with a cute little gold and white checkered table cloth, the bottle of wine they had been given by Clover, a couple of wine glasses, and two boxes of fancy chocolate-covered strawberries, also from Clover.

Bog smiled shyly, setting the two prepared plates down, one rare steak, one medium rare, piled high with steamed zucchini, and a nice leafy green salad with tomatoes and cucumbers. “Take it slow, and under no circumstances do we let my mother know.”

“Isn’t she going to wonder why you’re over here eating with me after that fake argument?” Marianne smiled back at Bog, then looked at her plate. “Wow, after all these years of you sending me pictures of your cooking when you made something for your mom, I finally get to enjoy one of these.”

“I like cooking for someone else. Just myself, not so much. I’ll just eat ramen or a frozen meal.” Bog settled into the chair across from her, smiling, making actual eye contact.

She couldn’t stop herself. Marianne rose from her chair and walked around the small table to stand in front of Bog, who blinked at her curiously. Without a word, Marianne reached out with both hands, sliding them on either side of Bog’s face, using her fingers to encourage him to lift his head. He licked his lips nervously, brilliant blue eyes wide and staring, having a good idea about what was about to happen.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this, and I owe it to you for what I said. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Marianne leaned closer, her nose touching Bog’s.

“We were trying to stage an argument for my mom,” whispered Bog, his eyes locked on hers.

“I’m still sorry.” Marianne’s lips brushed against his, then met gently, as pleasantly as they both had imagined. It was just a sweet, quick first kiss, but was followed by a second longer one. When Marianne pulled away, Bog smiled, his cheeks just as red as hers. They lingered for a moment, just gazing at each other, then Marianne went to her side of the table, smiling just as happy as he was.

“By the way, what were you going to yell at me?” Marianne grinned across the table, lifting a forkful of zucchini to her mouth.

Bog’s smile grew, and he laughed, “That I couldn’t believe you tried to kiss me!”

“That is so hurtful!” Marianne mock gasped at him, her smile growing.

“I love ye.” Bog grinned. “It feels so good to say it. I don’t even feel anxious about it.”

“That’s good because I love you too.” Marianne took another moment to just look at him and smile. “I love you.”