terribly sorry, officer (baelfiery) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-09-10 17:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, lina inverse, neal cassidy (baelfire) |
Who: Nealfire & Linabean
What: Catching up, with the babies in tow!
When: Today, Saturday
Where: A delicious BBQ joint like they've been planning to go to foreeeeever
Rating/Warnings: Besides extreme baby cuteness, nada
Status: Complete
There were two things Neal was wanting pretty hardcore right now - meat that had been slow-cooked over burning hickory wooden pits for at least half a day, and also ice cream. Why he wanted ice cream, he didn’t know, since he had practically drowned in the stuff while Emma was pregnant and craved it constantly, but here he was. Summer was winding down; it was still hot-for-ice-cream weather, so he’d enjoy it and then probably give in to the pumpkin craze a little when autumn hit. Luckily, this place would satisfy what he was currently jonesing for. Meat melted in the mouth (sounded kinda dirty?), but that effect was mitigated by the jalapeno mac and cheese and the baked beans that were candy-sweet and so good. He’d ordered a huge thing of pork belly garlic fries to start with, and to share, with Nikolas in his portable car seat at the table - it was a big enough table so that spreading out with the chilluns a little was possible. “Remember when we came to this place, stoned, and had ketchup on cracker sandwiches?” Neal sighed, nostalgic for the good old days, reaching for another bit of loaded fried potato and dipping it into his mouth. Would he make it to the ice cream sundae for dessert? Maybe. Or maybe he’d just get a milkshake to go. Shakeshakeshake went Niko with his rattle, so happy he could show off opening and closing his fist, and then promptly chucked the toy across the table. Luckily, Neal was able to reach for it and not let it touch the floor. “Good arm, Nik,” he complimented, giving the rattle back to him. But now he just wanted to chew on his fist, thanks. For Lina, it was ribs. A whole rack soaked in a smoky barbecue sauce, with red meat falling off the bone - it was meant to be messy, which was why the hole-in-the-wall shack provided paper bibs for those brave enough to get their hands dirty. There were plenty of sides for her to indulge in too, like baked cornbread and macaroni n’ cheese (less jalapeno, more bacon), and a ranch-based potato salad. Later there’d be room for dessert, never fear - they had a delectable white chocolate bread pudding she wanted to sink her teeth into, but she was going to focus on the main course for the moment. “And we were so stoned that we thought it was the best thing ever,” she snorted, recalling the day fondly. Back when they would smoke it up in the back of her Shagmobile, in her ‘Puff the fucking Dragon’ days. Here they were again, but this time completely sober and in tow with little humans that shared their genetic makeup. Amelia was babbling into the air, approximately four months and with quite the personality showing through; generally happy with a streak of everything I touch is miiiiiiiiiiiiiine, take it away and I’ll cry which, in a nutshell, was inherited from her gluttonous magic-wielding mother. With the drooly baby talk that made no sense whatsoever - really, it was just excitable noise and spit sounds - Amelia’s eyes were also fixated on what mommy was putting in her mouth and all the things on the table. Lina’s own gaze went to Niko, smirking. “Ohhhhh, you’ve got a chunky thrower there. It’s a miracle we can actually put things in our mouth right -” Spoke too soon, Inverse. Amelia began to whine and fuss because what was mommy putting in her mouth and why couldn’t she touch it and put it in her mouth too! Siiiiiiiigh. There was a pulled pork sandwich that was delivered for Neal - he’d let Lina have her ribs though, wouldn’t dream of interfering there. But when he took a bite of that sandwich, it was all mmmmmm and being caught in a state of rapture. You just really couldn’t beat good barbecue - even if this was California. Sure, it’d be better in the south, but you had to take what you could get. “Soon enough, kiddo,” he spoke to the fussy Amelia, who was a tiny thing - growing steadily though, he could tell. When she was born, he recalled being able to fit her in one hand to hold. Like a little melon ball. “Or have you already started with the solid foods, just a bit?” he asked Lina. Between four to six months seemed to be the general time frame for that introduction. Niko, meanwhile, was a chub who would probably Pacman-inhale solid foods as soon as he could focus enough to eyeball whatever his parents were eating. Mashed fruit puree, mmmm. Moist toilettes were complimentary, especially in a joint like this - Lina had to wipe her hands clean (and maybe the corners of her mouth because, again, messy), so she could unbuckle the bitty lady from the carseat on the high chair. Up went the littlest firestarter, and into her mother’s lap to ease the restlessness and hopefully satisfy the innocent curiosity. “I give her a taste of things here and there,” answered the sorceress, bouncing her leg a bit to jiggle the baby leaning against her. By now she managed to masterful art of multitasking when it came to handling her little one and having a bite. Before anything was done, Lina made sure all of her fiery hair was out of range for the grabby Amelia - the two of them hysterically were matching in clothes, with Mama Firecracker wearing a babydoll shirt (v-neck, because now she had cleavage she wanted to show off thanks to engorged breasts) that said ‘AHHHH I’VE CREATED A MONSTER,’ and Baby Firecracker wearing a onesie that said ‘MONSTER.’ “Just to get those tastebuds going, you know? I’ve been making some gross fruit-vegetable popsicles for her to suck on, but she seems to love ‘em.” Nothing solid yet, of course - but once the chompers came in, she was already prepared with a recipe of easy-to-make teething biscuits. Lina coated her index finger with some cheese from the macaroni side, and held it to Amelia’s mouth for a sample. “It’ll be my damn luck if I have to fight over food with my own child, but.” Her mouth stretched into a grin. “I’m sure yours will be the same way. Lookit that chunker! Amelia, Amelia, look - look at your betrothed!” Sorry, mommy, but cheese. The way Lina and her bugaboo had their matching outfits going on was pretty sweet. Niko was just in his arrrr, wipe me booty pirate-themed onesie (we can guess who that was a gift from). And socks, even though he hated stuff on his feet like most babies did and would probably kick and kick until the damn things flew off somewhere. “Oh, yeah, definitely will be the same way - and with a teenager in the house too, I think we’ll just need to stock up in bulk on everything,” Neal chuckled, while Niko drooled on his fist and gave a gummy (gassy) smile; he was just so proud of himself for some reason. It was always amusing to see those facial expressions, and the little things that meant he was beginning to develop his own personality. “You’re a lucky lady, Amelia. Betrothed to this rolly-polly. Right?” He reached across and tickled her belly a bit. She was a cutie, for sure. “I think she’s got your chin, Linabean. Definitely.” Niko was such a chunker, it was the best. Made cuddling him that much better, and boy, did she cuddle the blubber every time she got the chance - they did share very similar names after all, and it filled her to the brim with a lot of fucking feels, alright? He may not be her nephew by blood but he was of love. “Really? I keep mostly seeing Pete in her. He can never deny that this is his spawn,” she snickered. The smallness, though? Aside from the month early birth, it was probably inherited from Lina, who’d also inherited from Mama Ifraimov. But the beast within Amelia had been quelled, and she was back to giggly babble and toothless grinning at Neal’s gesture - cheese was noms, and the next sample was a bit of barbecue sauce. “This is a congratulatory lunch to your recent engagement, by the way. A toast to working through life totally backwards, huh?” Kids first, nuptials later. That’s how she and Neal apparently rolled. Amelia did resemble her father quite a bit - the same color hair (or fuzz, at this point), and the eyes. Both the color and the shape of them. Nose also, definitely the nose. “She’s gonna be a heartbreaker, but you know - these two, it’s meant to be,” he said with all seriousness. Niko just stuck the end of his rattle into his mouth, drooling on that too. Amazing that he wasn’t crying for noms since everyone else was eating (and the chunker did not like being denied food). “Oh, yeah, the recent engagement - “ He took a swig from the beer he’d ordered, since it was the perfect day to pair barbecue with a cold one. “It’s something to celebrate. Even if it didn’t exactly go as planned?” Yeah, there had been a minor snafu at the restaurant - but it was something he and Emma could laugh about. He also didn’t mind going backwards. Hey, you gotta do what worked for you, right? At the rate her little Russian-British hybrid was going, Lina let Amelia just dunk her fingers into cheesy and saucy things so she could keep her mouth occupied with them - what? Kid had to learn about flavors somehow, not like she was sticking anything solid in her mouth, and like this she could actually steal a couple more bites of what she’d ordered. They’d both be a mess, but. “I don’t think anyone’s had luck with a proposal gone right,” she pointed out, and waggled her auburn brows at him. “Our mutual one left us half-homeless.” It was a right nudge to getting an actual house, one for this little stinker to grow into, but man. Her drink wasn’t a beer this time, alas, considering she still had to time things a certain way when it came to boobs and drinking, but she’d stuck with her staple Shirley Temple from her preggo days and sipped it - meanwhile, Amelia eyed it with a blatant da fuq is that expression. “It’s definitely a long time coming for you two, though. Henry’s psyched? And you’ll get the whole family in on the photos, too. Chubster included.” Little Wisdom’s first Halloween was also her parent’s wedding day, so Lina was excited for that - it also meant she had to look diligently for the perfect little costume. Probably a pumpkin, or pirate. “I thought I’d be savvy and have the restaurant write ‘will you marry me?’ on our tiramisu, a dusting in cocoa powder, but they delivered someone else’s ‘I’m pregnant’ cake instead,” Neal grumbled, but come on, it was kind of funny. Napa Rose obviously felt bad about it too, because they’d gotten dessert for free. Score. “Henry’s definitely psyched though. I was thinking of suggesting it’d be a destination wedding? Maybe Tallahassee.” Close your eyes and point. Whatever spot you pick, that’s our home. That particular city held special meaning for he and Emma, in their dreams - in this life too, because Emma had spent some time there feeling a strange connection with Tallahassee before moving on. In Storybrooke, Neal died before they could fully realize that dream, so it’d be nice to make a little bit of it come true. “Gotta see what Em thinks, naturally. Like if it’d be feasible to get people out there, across the country. We could honeymoon in Miami.” Fffffffffffft--! Lina was in mid-sip of her drink when he elaborated on the bit of the mixup, and the will to not spit up the concoction of sprite and grenadine on top of her human creation’s raven-fuzzed head made sure it was properly swallowed. “Oh, fuck,” she coughed out a laugh. “I knew there was an oops but--seriously?? Please tell me there’s cameras in that restaurant - it’d be worth getting just so we can replay that at your wedding.” Their faces must have been priceless! At least it was memorable, yeah? Maybe not in the ohhhhh so romantic way, but she was an advocate of comedy. Life’s a cosmic joke, might as well get a good chuckle out of it. “That kind of destination wedding is perfect for you two. That’s what a wedding’s supposed to be; a celebration of you both. Incorporate the good stuff that made you guys the team you are now.” Tallahassee was personal to them. If the yellow bug made the trip, she’d have to make a mental note to volunteer to deck it out. Cans attached to the back, ribbons, the whole ordeal. Whoooooa. Don’t choke there, Linabean, not on the grenadine! Neal just shook his head, laughing. While turning bright red, of course, thanks to the sheer what the fuck moment that was his attempt to propose. They’d remember it always, so that had to count for something. “Yeah, I’d be for all for Tallahassee - “ The more he considered it, the better it sounded. Maybe it was far, but overall he thought it’d be kind of a small wedding - neither or Emma had any family from the past, just the connections they’d forged out here for the most part. They would want their OC fam there for the big day; it’d be fun for pretty much everyone. Plus, that yellow bug was a tank. It could go cross-country, no doubt about it. “Yours is coming up soon, huh?” he grinned. “Excited?” No doubt Lina would move heaven and earth to make sure she’d be there to witness the entire thing go down; and plus, Niko did need a marvelous date, didn’t he? It was kind of nice to see how the OC could bring people together when it wasn’t constantly throwing them through the ringer, challenging them at every turn - the trials of living here would never be over, but she’d be damned if she didn’t enjoy the moments of peace in between metaphysical clusterfucks. “Really excited, actually,” the redhead admitted, face scrunched and a little sheepish. “Planning it’s been easy; we’re on the same page on pretty much everything?” It’d be, in a way, sort of a whimsical - most of the area would be lit by magic, with little balls what looked like fairy lights in the dusky air. If it rained, she knew she’d have Zee as back up to tell it to fuck off, not THIS wedding. Simple centerpieces were in the planning process - little pumpkins with sunflowers - and she’d be going with Bela to pick some kind of dress soon. “Mmmm! One of the food trucks is going to be a giant turkey leg one, by the way. All medieval style and juicy.” Because why the fuck not pay a homage to her life during the dark ages? It was a staple there, something she’d take your eye out over if someone dared mess with her meat. Many a tavern had been broken by her and Gourry’s altercations over who got the last leg (she also didn’t recommend breaking them, because the owners did expect compensation for the damages and those were never cheap). “Good, you should be. It’s gonna be beautiful, I bet.” Neal didn’t even have to be a psychic to know that - he was planning on attending (like he’d miss the wedding of his sister-from-another mister? Pffft) and dolling himself up in clothes that were new, crisp, and free from baby vomit stains. Now he just had to think of an awesome gift for the newly-married couple, but he was sure he could come up with something amazing. With the epic amounts of barbecue consumed, and Niko beginning a snooze in his carseat (how he could sleep in a crowded restaurant but be wailing during the silence at home, it was a mystery), that meant it was time for ice cream. Neal went all the way, with a hot fudge sundae - he’d share, of course. “You would have turkey legs at your wedding,” he teased. “What about mead? Please tell me there’s that too. And did you order a cake yet?” There were a lot of options. If a food truck could provide turkey legs, then surely something unique for dessert would happen too. Gaaaaaasp. A lightbulb lit over her head, lips parting to gape a little because why the hell hadn’t she thought about mead? Why not mead? “I’m a total idiot.” Lina’s sigh was melodramatic, but those garnet eyes rested upon Neal like he was the most decadent cupcake in the entire multiverse. “What the hell would I do without you? You’re basically my man of honor. I’ll have to get on the mead part.” And frantically text her husband-to-be with an excitable we need mead damnit message. He’d probably be for it. Anything alcoholic on the day of their nuptials was something Pete Wisdom would approve of. Alas, she didn’t get a chance to finish the entire meal laid before her (most of the time her hands were busy occupying the very awake Amelia), but she’d get it to-go and bite at the dessert she had her eye on since the beginning. “Cake’s still being decided on -” Gah, child, watch the hair. “We’ve got options. I mean, I can’t really see us doing a traditional three-tiered cake with toppers that are supposed to look like an ugly warped version of us. We’ve tried a cone cake truck before which was awesome, or hell, maybe we’ll do a King Cake with Halloween colors.” Braided dough stuffed with cream cheese; non-traditional and delicious, except for the hidden plastic baby in it. All this talk of cake was well-timed, with dessert at the table. Amelia was pretty flaily though, not that Neal could blame her. “Here, give me the monster,” and he offered to take her, so Lina would have two hands free to actually enjoy that bread pudding. It looked warm and decadent, no reason to let it sit and get cold. Once he did have the little firestarter, he gently bounced the diapered baby butt on his knee a bit, one arm slung around her to keep her secure so she wouldn’t tip over. Maybe she’d like a taste of hot fudge sauce - she seemed to be eying it with speculation. “Of course I’m your man of honor,” that went without saying. “Mead is a go. And king cake is an awesome idea. I mean, you can’t go wrong with cream cheese, right? I bet you could get an authentic one or two shipped here.” There were competing bakeries around, sure, but wasn’t king cake a NoLa thing? You wanted it to be legit. Complete with plastic baby to choke on and everything. “Thaaaaaaaaaaank you,” she sighed appreciatively as he took the weight of infant from her - no way in hell was Amelia sleeping, she was wide-eyed and awake with a mouthful of her own fist while the other hand tried to keep occupied with things. Like, ohhh, napkin, napkins are amazing. It was definitely the ‘touch everything’ phase for her. Anyway, she at least had the chance to box things up for the trip back home, and at least put a damn good dent in her bread pudding. But, yes. Cakes. Noms. “I can get it overnighted, yeah, but I’ll let him decide what he wants to do with that. Either way, it’s going in my belly.” Lina didn’t know how people chose wedding cake designs to begin with. Like, what if the bakery fucked it up and it came out looking like something right out of Wal-Mart? Best to just keep it simple and as stress-free as possible. “Listening to this stuff’s gonna be practice for you, though,” she pointed out her fork into his direction. Baby Wisdom let out a well-timed yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sound and clapped her hands with that aforementioned napkin. “Take notes, Nealbear. Don’t let the chair ribbons scare you.” Man, this just kept getting better and better, didn’t it? Turkey legs, mead, and king cake. “Chair ribbons,” Neal snorted, batting at the napkin Amelia was using as a white flag while she perched on his knee. “You’re not even going to have chair ribbons. I think?” Alright, no intimidation. He could handle this. They’d each have beautiful weddings, one right here in the OC and one (maybe) a destination sort of schindig. Things in common? Good food, good friends, good booze. And a good cake. Nothing said ‘have a happy life together’ better than a cake that you could stick your face into. There was probably a saying about that, somewhere. If not, it seemed pretty appropriate for the likes of these two. |