They arrived home just as Nils was heading out the door. “Hey,” he nodded to the crew in the living room, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the hallway.
“Aw, you’re leaving? C’mon man, we’re gonna hang here for a bit - don’t be so shy!” Alfred grinned.
“The movie starts soon. I’m going.” Nils said, decisively. “You guys can come if you want,” he shrugged. “They’re showing Hausu at M-16 tonight.”
A flurry of responses: “I’ll bet this’ll be more fun! With all of these cool bros? Failproof!” “I don’t like that bar. Like, total metalhead dive bar. Grody.” “I’m permanently banned. Pissy little fuckers, it was an old T.V. anyway.” “It is loud there, yes? I would rather not.”
Kiku looked up and asked if the movie was Japanese. Nils nodded.
---
On the way there, Kiku asked what the movie was about. Nils tried his best, but all he really got out was “It’s...Jesus, how to - okay -” a sigh - “a 1977 Japanese haunted house horror-comedy on acid.”
“This sounds interesting.”
“I’m serious. Acid. A cat painting spews blood. A guy turns into a pile of bananas. Furniture eats people. Fucked-up editing. Shitty effects. Neon and disembodied floating things all over the place.”
---
They grabbed some drinks at the bar and situated themselves in a dark corner in the back room with a good line-of-sight to the projector screen. Thrash was playing too loudly to really talk, so Nils flipped through the tabletop burger menu.
“Want a burger?” Nils shouted across the tiny table, pointing at the menu.
Kiku shook his head and Nils barely heard his reply of “I’m a vegetarian. Thank you though.”
Nils nodded and signaled that he’d be back, then went to order himself one at the bar. The burgers here were huge and goddamn delicious.
---
The credits stopped rolling and Nils turned to Kiku. “So?”
“....wow.”
Nils nodded, sipping his beer.
Kiku shook his head. “That...I do not know what to say about it.”
Nils shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
---
Feliks and Berwald were sitting together at a bar - at the bar of a gay bar, to be precise - because, while talking to Berwald in the Hjortdonner living room, Feliks had made the executive decision that Berwald needed to go out and meet some eligible men. Eligible men who also liked men. So off they went, Berwald metaphorically dragging his heels the whole way.
The problem seemed to be that either the men were scared of Berwald, or Berwald was scared of them. Feliks had heard that the man was intimidating from others, but he didn’t really get it. He shrugged to himself, downing his drink, while watching the second scenario happen - again - with a bit of dark amusement.
A very queeny fellow was hanging all over Berwald, being very forward, flirtatious, and touchy. Berwald was obviously frozen in terror, eyes wide and his normally-limited vocabulary reduced to the occasional noise.
Feliks sighed. This whole situation was a hot mess. Berwald just wanted a normal man - not a queen, not a bear, just a guy - and all of these strangers touching him were just freaking him out.
Feliks walked over and waved the offending man off, turning to Berwald with a hand on his hip. “Okay, fuck this sitch,” he stated. “Let’s just go to, like, that total tranny dive on Adams and 12th, get trashed, watch some God-awful drag queens and make fun of ‘em.”
---
The weekend after Hausu, Kiku went over to the Hjortdonner house and watched the MST3k version of Space Mutiny with all of them, plus Antonio, who made an enormous bowl of popcorn and then plopped down on the floor. Alfred and Gilbert got really high and giggled for practically the entire 93 minutes; one would yell something at the screen, the other would one-up the first, occasionally Nils would join with something snappy, and eventually the other four were laughing so hard Kiku had to pause the movie. They would calm down and the process would start over.
Gilbert had been hiccuping for ten minutes, and was now hanging over the side of the couch, howling and clutching his stomach - after an underwhelming chase scene the two vehicles onscreen exploded, and Alfred let out a loud keen and fell straight off the couch and onto Antonio.
A loud hiccup tore through the air and Gilbert clapped a hand over his mouth, still twitching with repressed laughs. No one thought anything of it until he yanked the empty popcorn bowl toward himself and vomited, spluttering and choking through chuckles.
Alfred immediately began howling at Gilbert, pointing at him and seizing up into a ball. Antonio smiled and then joined in. Kiku looked over to Nils - and completely lost it when he saw the shocked look etched across his features. Kiku’s mirth snapped him out of it, apparently, because the two of them were soon trying not to fall off of the couch themselves while Alfred rolled around on the floor and wheezed “You threw up! You threw up!” whenever he had enough air.
---
For Thanksgiving, Kiku brought over Alfred Hitchcock’s Masterpiece Collection, and he and Nils sat on the couch and had a marathon. Nils tossed him a package of portabello mushrooms and they made mushroom burgers for dinner.
The house was strangely silent without Alfred or Gilbert. Everyone that they knew in town, save themselves, was dining with their family. They didn’t bring it up, and when Gilbert came in and asked “Why the fuck are you two dweebs sittin’ here in the dark?” he just got two flat stares in answer.
---
The next weekend found them watching Machine Girl in Kiku’s room, drinking sake on Kiku’s tatami mat and commenting on the overabundance of blood in the movie. Nils was sprawled back, propped up on his elbows to watch the movie, and Kiku sat beside him cross-legged, laughing at discrepancies between the subtitles and the actual dialogue.
The credits rolled and Nils flopped back, happily buzzed, and brushed a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes.
“I like your hair like this,” Kiku murmured.
“Hmm? As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to when I met you.” At that, Nils looked confused. “The morning after the Halloween party,” Kiku clarified.
Nils’ eyes widened. “Holy shit!” he laughed quietly. “I probably looked like a disaster. I don’t even remember seeing you.”
Kiku raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“No. I was still drunk when I woke up. Worst hangover of my life,” he groaned and turned slightly to Kiku, closing his eyes for a minute.
“Well. You did look like a disaster,” Kiku smiled and leaned forward, bracing an arm on his knee and resting his head on his hand. “I didn’t realize you were the same person, the next time I saw you,” he admitted.
“That’s good,” Nils muttered.
“Oh?”
“I would hate for you to think I’m that gross.” He looked up at Kiku and quirked his lips, before turning on his side completely and lifting himself up on one elbow again.
Kiku leaned in and brushed away the hair that fell in Nils’ eyes, openly smiling. “I don’t think you’re gross,” was almost whispered.
Nils fell silent, eyes flickering across Kiku’s face. By now the credits had ended - he watched as the changing colors of the screen saver flashed across Kiku’s features and added odd highlights to his hair. He swallowed, and it was loud in the quiet left behind by the movie. He reached out and touched one of the colors highlighting Kiku’s cheekbone - “I don’t think you’re gross, either,” he breathlessly got out.
Kiku leaned into the touch a moment, then closed the gap between them with deliberate slowness. Nils’ eyes fell shut automatically and their lips touched, dry and tentative, then parted, before becoming a series of soft, chaste kisses.
Nils raised a clammy hand to hold the turn of Kiku’s jaw, and the kiss turned into an open-mouthed one, tongues barely brushing. A little deeper, then - Nils could taste the sweet sake from earlier, and it made his heart skitter against his ribs - Kiku placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down to the mat and settling half-over him, stretching out. Their lips remained together the entire time. A small noise escaped from the back of Nils’ throat and he ran his hand down Kiku’s side as Kiku slid a hand behind his ear and through his hair.
Kiku’s fingers moved from his hair, lightly traced down his throat. A thumb ran along his collarbone, a splayed hand delicately slid down his chest, and finally the hand slid under his shirt, pushing up along the planes of his stomach and bunching the shirt along with it.
Nils broke off and pulled back for a second, nearly panting. “Are - are you and...?” he trailed off.
Kiku looked confused for only a moment, then said “We’ve gone on a few dates...nothing big.” At Nils’ hesitation he blushingly added “We’ve barely kissed.”
Nils nodded and let his thumb rub light circles into Kiku’s side.
“Also,” Kiku smirked with his eyes, “I think he likes Alfred.”
Nils let out a small huff of laughter at that. “You too?”
Kiku nodded and they smiled at each other a moment before meeting again. Nils stayed late, twined with Kiku on the mat, simply content to let their bodies and mouths touch and explore.
---
“How would you feel if you were the only man I saw?” Francis asked, sitting close to Antonio on Antonio’s couch.
Antonio frowned. “I told you that’s what I wanted,” he said, confused.
“Ah, no, dear. I meant...I’d still like to sleep with women on occasion.”
“Women? More than one?”
“Wha -ah - well, yes...?” Francis shifted on the couch, turning in toward Antonio. “If I met a lovely woman at, say, a bar - or a gallery opening, for instance, I would like to be able to take her home that night.”
“No...” Antonio shook his head. “Not home.”
“Hm?” Francis asked, tilting his head and nodding a bit to signal Antonio to go on.
“Not to your house. I like your house.”
Oh...well...Francis couldn’t see why it would matter where they did it, but, he was surprised Antonio was willing to agree at all. “Certainly, then. Not my apartment.”
“And not...” Antonio stopped and chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “Not more than once.”
Francis understood this - I don’t want you dating me and someone else at the same time, he was trying to say. “No, no, of course not,” he reassured, smiling.
---
“So, have you decided to major in theater or not?” Natalia asked Eirik, glancing down and looking surprised when she realized all of her ginger was already gone. She reached across the table to his plate to snag some more pickled ginger with her chopsticks.
Eirik sighed and scooped up the rest of his ginger for her, placing it on her plate. “Not sure. I don’t want to do conventional theater, and that’s what the school’s program is.”
She nodded, chewing on some nigiri. “Thought any more about joining that experimental group downtown? Talk to that guy who was at your thing at The Scam?” she asked.
He shrugged. “No, not really. They don’t really do what I do.”
“Still, he liked it!”
“Well, how about you? Are you going to add that business minor? Talk about an odd combination,” he laughed.
“Probably,” she shrugged. “I have to declare by next semester - you’re lucky, you’ve still got a year - and the minor will come in handy if I ever actually become successful. Then I guess I could start up a gallery or something?”
“If you started a gallery you’d have to let me perform there,” Eirik grinned.
“Sure thing, Eir,” she laughed.
He smiled at her. “You’re happy tonight.”
She paused and looked at him, then shrugged and popped another piece of sushi into her mouth. She looked out the window, to the neon night on the street, before suddenly turning to him and asking “Do you think I’m a bitch?”
He knew she was talking about that Nils guy’s comment without even asking, and frowned. “I already told you, that guy’s a dick.”
“No, really,” she huffed. “Do you?”
He looked at her and played with his chopsticks, dragging the ends back and forth across the plate. “Well, no...” he began. “I know you’re not. But...you can be pretty cold to strangers.”
She nodded, propped her arm on the table, and stared out into the night, lost in thought. Cold rain ran down the windowpane - Eirik watched as the lights from the street shined in her eyes, as the shadows of droplets danced down her strong, elfin features.
He chewed on his bottom lip before softly saying “You don’t have to be, you know.”
*Yes, that was totally an Alice’s Restaurant Massacree reference, you are correct. C’mon, it’s November! That’s like, the quintessential Thanksgiving tune!
Writing performance-music/art is so hard. SO HARD. Writing smut? Battles? Doesn’t even hold a candle. Some behind-the-scenes things that didn’t fit: Eduard is Iceland’s theater tech pal, and tripped most of the lights/sound. Eirik always wears an altered straitjacket when he performs. I imagine his voice sounds like Sice from The Boo Radleys. Sweet and husky, hard to tell if it’s male or female.
And man, Eirik, for a shy, gloomy little thing you sure go balls-out when you have the stage. (Also he keeps pestering me to let him do a different one in a few months *headdesk*)
So, most of Nils’ major plot points are out of the way with this one. He’ll probably get less face-time from here on out. (I mean, unless you guys want more Nils-face-time. Or gratuitous Nils/Kiku smut. You know. Whatever. I aim to please.) Time for Roderich, Francis, Ludwig, and Gilbert to step up to the plate! And q;glhafb[a;agk MATTHEW COMES BACK. DERPY TIMES AHOY.
Lastly: does anyone want music to go with each chapter? When I’m writing I end up listening to the same songs over and over for certain scenes, and by the end I usually have a playlist made up anyway, so *shrug*
I CANT REALLY WRITE A REVIEW RIGHT NOW, but just know that I love this, I love your writing, and that this is definitely one of those things that is good enough to re-read over and over again.
I'll probably leave something more substantial when I'm able to, sorry I don't have much time atm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
LATFF [5e/?]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-04 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)They arrived home just as Nils was heading out the door. “Hey,” he nodded to the crew in the living room, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the hallway.
“Aw, you’re leaving? C’mon man, we’re gonna hang here for a bit - don’t be so shy!” Alfred grinned.
“The movie starts soon. I’m going.” Nils said, decisively. “You guys can come if you want,” he shrugged. “They’re showing Hausu at M-16 tonight.”
A flurry of responses: “I’ll bet this’ll be more fun! With all of these cool bros? Failproof!” “I don’t like that bar. Like, total metalhead dive bar. Grody.” “I’m permanently banned. Pissy little fuckers, it was an old T.V. anyway.” “It is loud there, yes? I would rather not.”
Kiku looked up and asked if the movie was Japanese. Nils nodded.
---
On the way there, Kiku asked what the movie was about. Nils tried his best, but all he really got out was “It’s...Jesus, how to - okay -” a sigh - “a 1977 Japanese haunted house horror-comedy on acid.”
“This sounds interesting.”
“I’m serious. Acid. A cat painting spews blood. A guy turns into a pile of bananas. Furniture eats people. Fucked-up editing. Shitty effects. Neon and disembodied floating things all over the place.”
---
They grabbed some drinks at the bar and situated themselves in a dark corner in the back room with a good line-of-sight to the projector screen. Thrash was playing too loudly to really talk, so Nils flipped through the tabletop burger menu.
“Want a burger?” Nils shouted across the tiny table, pointing at the menu.
Kiku shook his head and Nils barely heard his reply of “I’m a vegetarian. Thank you though.”
Nils nodded and signaled that he’d be back, then went to order himself one at the bar. The burgers here were huge and goddamn delicious.
---
The credits stopped rolling and Nils turned to Kiku. “So?”
“....wow.”
Nils nodded, sipping his beer.
Kiku shook his head. “That...I do not know what to say about it.”
Nils shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
---
Feliks and Berwald were sitting together at a bar - at the bar of a gay bar, to be precise - because, while talking to Berwald in the Hjortdonner living room, Feliks had made the executive decision that Berwald needed to go out and meet some eligible men. Eligible men who also liked men. So off they went, Berwald metaphorically dragging his heels the whole way.
The problem seemed to be that either the men were scared of Berwald, or Berwald was scared of them. Feliks had heard that the man was intimidating from others, but he didn’t really get it. He shrugged to himself, downing his drink, while watching the second scenario happen - again - with a bit of dark amusement.
A very queeny fellow was hanging all over Berwald, being very forward, flirtatious, and touchy. Berwald was obviously frozen in terror, eyes wide and his normally-limited vocabulary reduced to the occasional noise.
Feliks sighed. This whole situation was a hot mess. Berwald just wanted a normal man - not a queen, not a bear, just a guy - and all of these strangers touching him were just freaking him out.
Feliks walked over and waved the offending man off, turning to Berwald with a hand on his hip. “Okay, fuck this sitch,” he stated. “Let’s just go to, like, that total tranny dive on Adams and 12th, get trashed, watch some God-awful drag queens and make fun of ‘em.”
---
The weekend after Hausu, Kiku went over to the Hjortdonner house and watched the MST3k version of Space Mutiny with all of them, plus Antonio, who made an enormous bowl of popcorn and then plopped down on the floor. Alfred and Gilbert got really high and giggled for practically the entire 93 minutes; one would yell something at the screen, the other would one-up the first, occasionally Nils would join with something snappy, and eventually the other four were laughing so hard Kiku had to pause the movie. They would calm down and the process would start over.
Gilbert had been hiccuping for ten minutes, and was now hanging over the side of the couch, howling and clutching his stomach - after an underwhelming chase scene the two vehicles onscreen exploded, and Alfred let out a loud keen and fell straight off the couch and onto Antonio.
LATFF [5f/?]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-04 03:12 pm (UTC)(link)Alfred immediately began howling at Gilbert, pointing at him and seizing up into a ball. Antonio smiled and then joined in. Kiku looked over to Nils - and completely lost it when he saw the shocked look etched across his features. Kiku’s mirth snapped him out of it, apparently, because the two of them were soon trying not to fall off of the couch themselves while Alfred rolled around on the floor and wheezed “You threw up! You threw up!” whenever he had enough air.
---
For Thanksgiving, Kiku brought over Alfred Hitchcock’s Masterpiece Collection, and he and Nils sat on the couch and had a marathon. Nils tossed him a package of portabello mushrooms and they made mushroom burgers for dinner.
The house was strangely silent without Alfred or Gilbert. Everyone that they knew in town, save themselves, was dining with their family. They didn’t bring it up, and when Gilbert came in and asked “Why the fuck are you two dweebs sittin’ here in the dark?” he just got two flat stares in answer.
---
The next weekend found them watching Machine Girl in Kiku’s room, drinking sake on Kiku’s tatami mat and commenting on the overabundance of blood in the movie. Nils was sprawled back, propped up on his elbows to watch the movie, and Kiku sat beside him cross-legged, laughing at discrepancies between the subtitles and the actual dialogue.
The credits rolled and Nils flopped back, happily buzzed, and brushed a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes.
“I like your hair like this,” Kiku murmured.
“Hmm? As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to when I met you.” At that, Nils looked confused. “The morning after the Halloween party,” Kiku clarified.
Nils’ eyes widened. “Holy shit!” he laughed quietly. “I probably looked like a disaster. I don’t even remember seeing you.”
Kiku raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“No. I was still drunk when I woke up. Worst hangover of my life,” he groaned and turned slightly to Kiku, closing his eyes for a minute.
“Well. You did look like a disaster,” Kiku smiled and leaned forward, bracing an arm on his knee and resting his head on his hand. “I didn’t realize you were the same person, the next time I saw you,” he admitted.
“That’s good,” Nils muttered.
“Oh?”
“I would hate for you to think I’m that gross.” He looked up at Kiku and quirked his lips, before turning on his side completely and lifting himself up on one elbow again.
Kiku leaned in and brushed away the hair that fell in Nils’ eyes, openly smiling. “I don’t think you’re gross,” was almost whispered.
Nils fell silent, eyes flickering across Kiku’s face. By now the credits had ended - he watched as the changing colors of the screen saver flashed across Kiku’s features and added odd highlights to his hair. He swallowed, and it was loud in the quiet left behind by the movie. He reached out and touched one of the colors highlighting Kiku’s cheekbone - “I don’t think you’re gross, either,” he breathlessly got out.
Kiku leaned into the touch a moment, then closed the gap between them with deliberate slowness. Nils’ eyes fell shut automatically and their lips touched, dry and tentative, then parted, before becoming a series of soft, chaste kisses.
Nils raised a clammy hand to hold the turn of Kiku’s jaw, and the kiss turned into an open-mouthed one, tongues barely brushing. A little deeper, then - Nils could taste the sweet sake from earlier, and it made his heart skitter against his ribs - Kiku placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down to the mat and settling half-over him, stretching out. Their lips remained together the entire time. A small noise escaped from the back of Nils’ throat and he ran his hand down Kiku’s side as Kiku slid a hand behind his ear and through his hair.
Kiku’s fingers moved from his hair, lightly traced down his throat. A thumb ran along his collarbone, a splayed hand delicately slid down his chest, and finally the hand slid under his shirt, pushing up along the planes of his stomach and bunching the shirt along with it.
LATFF [5g/?]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-04 03:14 pm (UTC)(link)Kiku looked confused for only a moment, then said “We’ve gone on a few dates...nothing big.” At Nils’ hesitation he blushingly added “We’ve barely kissed.”
Nils nodded and let his thumb rub light circles into Kiku’s side.
“Also,” Kiku smirked with his eyes, “I think he likes Alfred.”
Nils let out a small huff of laughter at that. “You too?”
Kiku nodded and they smiled at each other a moment before meeting again. Nils stayed late, twined with Kiku on the mat, simply content to let their bodies and mouths touch and explore.
---
“How would you feel if you were the only man I saw?” Francis asked, sitting close to Antonio on Antonio’s couch.
Antonio frowned. “I told you that’s what I wanted,” he said, confused.
“Ah, no, dear. I meant...I’d still like to sleep with women on occasion.”
“Women? More than one?”
“Wha -ah - well, yes...?” Francis shifted on the couch, turning in toward Antonio. “If I met a lovely woman at, say, a bar - or a gallery opening, for instance, I would like to be able to take her home that night.”
“No...” Antonio shook his head. “Not home.”
“Hm?” Francis asked, tilting his head and nodding a bit to signal Antonio to go on.
“Not to your house. I like your house.”
Oh...well...Francis couldn’t see why it would matter where they did it, but, he was surprised Antonio was willing to agree at all. “Certainly, then. Not my apartment.”
“And not...” Antonio stopped and chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “Not more than once.”
Francis understood this - I don’t want you dating me and someone else at the same time, he was trying to say. “No, no, of course not,” he reassured, smiling.
---
“So, have you decided to major in theater or not?” Natalia asked Eirik, glancing down and looking surprised when she realized all of her ginger was already gone. She reached across the table to his plate to snag some more pickled ginger with her chopsticks.
Eirik sighed and scooped up the rest of his ginger for her, placing it on her plate. “Not sure. I don’t want to do conventional theater, and that’s what the school’s program is.”
She nodded, chewing on some nigiri. “Thought any more about joining that experimental group downtown? Talk to that guy who was at your thing at The Scam?” she asked.
He shrugged. “No, not really. They don’t really do what I do.”
“Still, he liked it!”
“Well, how about you? Are you going to add that business minor? Talk about an odd combination,” he laughed.
“Probably,” she shrugged. “I have to declare by next semester - you’re lucky, you’ve still got a year - and the minor will come in handy if I ever actually become successful. Then I guess I could start up a gallery or something?”
“If you started a gallery you’d have to let me perform there,” Eirik grinned.
“Sure thing, Eir,” she laughed.
He smiled at her. “You’re happy tonight.”
She paused and looked at him, then shrugged and popped another piece of sushi into her mouth. She looked out the window, to the neon night on the street, before suddenly turning to him and asking “Do you think I’m a bitch?”
He knew she was talking about that Nils guy’s comment without even asking, and frowned. “I already told you, that guy’s a dick.”
“No, really,” she huffed. “Do you?”
He looked at her and played with his chopsticks, dragging the ends back and forth across the plate. “Well, no...” he began. “I know you’re not. But...you can be pretty cold to strangers.”
She nodded, propped her arm on the table, and stared out into the night, lost in thought. Cold rain ran down the windowpane - Eirik watched as the lights from the street shined in her eyes, as the shadows of droplets danced down her strong, elfin features.
He chewed on his bottom lip before softly saying “You don’t have to be, you know.”
---
Massive Author's Note
(Anonymous) 2010-09-04 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)Writing performance-music/art is so hard. SO HARD. Writing smut? Battles? Doesn’t even hold a candle. Some behind-the-scenes things that didn’t fit: Eduard is Iceland’s theater tech pal, and tripped most of the lights/sound. Eirik always wears an altered straitjacket when he performs. I imagine his voice sounds like Sice from The Boo Radleys. Sweet and husky, hard to tell if it’s male or female.
And man, Eirik, for a shy, gloomy little thing you sure go balls-out when you have the stage. (Also he keeps pestering me to let him do a different one in a few months *headdesk*)
So, most of Nils’ major plot points are out of the way with this one. He’ll probably get less face-time from here on out. (I mean, unless you guys want more Nils-face-time. Or gratuitous Nils/Kiku smut. You know. Whatever. I aim to please.) Time for Roderich, Francis, Ludwig, and Gilbert to step up to the plate! And q;glhafb[a;agk MATTHEW COMES BACK. DERPY TIMES AHOY.
Lastly: does anyone want music to go with each chapter? When I’m writing I end up listening to the same songs over and over for certain scenes, and by the end I usually have a playlist made up anyway, so *shrug*
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-05 03:44 pm (UTC)(link)I'll probably leave something more substantial when I'm able to, sorry I don't have much time atm
author!anon
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 04:57 pm (UTC)(link)/points to a completed December as a bribe
(Eh, basically I just wanna make sure I'm focusing/will focus on the things you're liking the most so far. FYI moar France/Spain is in the future.)