quipsandthwips | [PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[Peter Parker is doing fine.

Let him re-phase that: he's adapted and adjusted accordingly. Look, it hasn't been easy. Deciding to remain friends with MJ and still finding himself without an actual job or home to speak of doesn't beat losing both his mentor and his last surviving family member. There are empty spaces in his life that he tries not to linger on too long — but god, he misses May's smile, her voice, her kindnesses. It had taken so long to accept Ben's death... and now it's, just... it's hard. It's easier to just be Spider-Man for a while.

Crime doesn't sleep, after all. So yeah, homeless. That's no biggie. He's been there before. He mainly just works at FEAST with the homeless (he relates, and the new head honcho Miriam knew Peter was on the streets somehow, so he makes his keep there by volunteering. He, um. He gets to sleep in May's old office. It's... nice. There are still pictures and stuff hanging up that nobody had dared move.

So he's only sort of homeless now.

Anyway. Not important. What is important is keeping tabs on the villain activity around here. With most of the villains locked up aboard the Raft (not gonna even think about Dr. Octavius right now, because it still hurts too much), it's mainly these little obnoxious crime families and gangs; Kingpin had been the leader of all the gang activity before his arrest. And now it's this crime family. The Vinsmokes. Hard to get them arrested, and they've got so many secret strings being pulled all over. It makes for a real pain in the ass to deal with. He hasn't gotten a chance to catch the head honcho with anything criminal yet, but boy oh boy has he busted soooo many drug deals, weapons manufacturing, stolen goods deals — and so on.

Most of the grunts are easy-peasy. The literal family are all a bunch of super-powered heathens like him. Cool. He's gotten, like, three of them locked up on the Raft... only to have them somehow bought out, or released for shoddy police work, or something or another. Now there's just one locked up, but it's only a matter of time before Daddy Vinsmoke does his magic.

Ugh. He hates it.

2:30 a.m., and he's down by the docks and sticking against a nearby wall as fake money exchanges hands.]

Hey, do those work on any vending machine?

I'm dying for a bag of Doritos right about now.

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[He laughs miserably.]

Hey, sincere trumps lameness.

[You're really gonna torture him like this, Sanji?

C'mon, man.]

Anyway, I was being serious. If you're having trouble with anything, I'm around to help.

Yeah, yeah.

[Burger acquired, he makes a show of peeling back the foil before splitting off half to give to Peter] I'll keep it in mind if I'm ever in mortal danger and need you to princess carry me to safety.

[So he heard; he just doesn't really believe ya, buddy. You're one, normal person with questionable luck, so as earnest as the sentiment is, Sanji doesn't take the bait any further than a quip. Doing more than that would be a mistake for both of them.

But he'll nudge Peter with his shoulder, in case the other gets a look about him like he's not being taken seriously. Cheer up, Pete'. Sanji hasn't run for the door yet, it's kinda like progress.

... Shit, if he's being honest? This talk went better than expected. He doesn't feel great exactly, or even set at ease, but maybe for the first time in a while, he doesn't feel like... running.]

*****

[-- Now, about that apartment.

Sanji proves to be more excited by Peter having a permanent place of residence than Peter is. He hounds the other with statistics, logistics, the type of neighborhood he'll be shacking up in, it's level of cleanliness before the move date, who is hiring in a moving van -- the devil is in the details, Sanji maintains (probably while waving a spatula at Peter's face), and if he's gonna help move shit in, damn right it'll be smooth sailing with everyone from the landlord to the neighbors falling in line.

If questioned for his sudden zeal, the best anyone gets is a shrug before the man clams up and returns to his recipes. But it's just-- it's some goddamn justice in the world, for once. Good guys like Peter deserve something going for them, some kind of measurable karma to offset the bullshit they go through everyday.

His is a perfectly natural response to seeing his only friend in the world get a Nice Thing, alright? Everyone in FEAST needs to stop grinning like they're watching a romcom in action.

And the move itself turns out to be ... pretty uneventful. Peter's not exactly rollin' in possessions, first off -- even including the donations everyone at the shelter pitched in to buy, it takes only a couple of runs from the move-in truck Sanji "rented" -- "Bastard, for the last time, stop asking me where I got this" -- up the dingy stairs, and into the apartment so small that Sanji almost mistakes it for a closet.

-- Well. He's probably not the best to judge what's considered normal in Queens. Ehem.]

Oi! We got everything? [Sticking his head out from the bedroom, a light sheen of sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead.] I'm tired and hungry, so there's only one right answer.

[Maybe asking Sanji to help was a terrible mistake.

Peter just holds his hands up placatingly and answers every question presented, and sometimes he wonders if he had been this chatty when MJ moved into her own place (not that he's comparing Sanji to his ex-girlfriend, no sure, not happening whatsoever). The apartments aren't stellar, the place is small, and the tenants are... interesting. So basically, despite what gripes Sanji might find in the place, Peter's found himself more than at home. These kinds of places is where he's always lived, and he thrives fairly well here.

Sure, the sounds of two people banging next door is awkward, and the people who do houseparties a floor up might be a thing, but it's really nothing he hasn't faced in the grand scheme of things. Everything's... not really his — and just about every piece of furniture they move in is a piece Peter had tried and failed to turn down. "No, no, I couldn't possibly take this lamp" turned into him standing in the middle of a room of boxes, hugging a tall lamp to his chest.

He's sweating, but the place looks more alive. The walls are kinda crumbly and the floor squeaks and the appliances probably makes Sanji cry, but it's juuust right. Heck, he's got a real bedroom! The last place didn't have a decent bedroom! Now he just needs to find a job that'll help him keep up with the rent...]

Yeah, yeah! I think we're good!

[He turns to the big cork board, littered with childhood photos and drawings and all sorts of things from May's office, smile softening. Yeah, he definitely can't afford to lose this apartment. As he places the lamp in the corner and turns to the mussed head poking around the corner, he smiles a bit more playfully.]

What, you can't wait to make something with an oven from 50 years ago?

Don't fuckin remind me.

[The top of Sanji's gripes about this place? The kitchen, of course, and that Peter is gonna subject himself to technology best left in the history books. Sanji's almost afraid to touch half the shit for fear it'll disintegrate -- or just explode.]

Tch, I should make your ass cook for helping you all day.

[He says, wiping his forehead, knowing damn well this took three hours tops and that everyone's warned him not to leave Peter in the kitchen unsupervised...

Whelp, maybe it's slipping his mind now. He escapes the bedroom, stepping over boxes and slowly tracking his way to the kitchen.]

Do we even got food to cook...?

Are you really sure you'd want me to burn down the place right when I moved in?

[He grins at that, though, and steps to the side, looking at the fridge with some trepidation. Because oh, yeah... well. He really doesn't have a lot going on there, does he? He combs through the cabinets a bit and eventually makes a very tiny and concerning mound of almost nothing on the counter — warm soda cans, some vegetables, olive oil and pepper, and all other manner of hopelessly limited things you'd find in the cupboards of guy who orders mostly takeout.

He folds one arm, pressing the other's palm to his cheek helplessly.

Well.]

... You've worked with worse, right?

-- Alright, new rule.

No takeout for a week. We're going grocery shopping later so you can buy some real food.

[Said after staring at the downright pitiful offerings Peter presents. Between the cans of tuna and half-limp vegetables, yeah, he can manage something that's edible, but Peter best believe Sanji is going to complain the entire time about his eating habits.

Anyway, gonna elbow the other out of the kitchen (not a lot of space in here to begin with), with Sanji rolling up his sleeves like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of the stove]

Go sit somewhere and look pretty while I'll handle this.

[Peter doesn't skip a beat, moving to hop up and sit on the counter —

And strike a generic Covergirl Model Pose with his hands at his chin.

Aaand hold.]

Like this, my heroic master chef?

[What a bastard.]

[HA FUCKIN HA, this man thinks he's funny.]

Sure, keep that pose for the next two hours, would ya?

[Look at that, Sanji can be funny, too.]

... That's gonna be a rough challenge.

You sure you won't throw me out the window thirty minutes into staring at you like this?

[He's still holding the pose, for sample.]

Please Mr. Ramsay, no death by defenestration; I have so much to live for...!

[Y'know what, Sanji is gonna make this easy on both of them by throwing a towel (who the heck knows where he got it from) at the other's head, right over Peter's eyes.]

Oi now, I'd give you at least ten minutes to get your affairs in order.

That's fair, right? You can go with no regrets.

Only ten, huh...? I guess I could make it work.

[WHAP. Ah, yess, a towel to the head. At least it's a new one, so kindly donated by some little old lady — you can tell because it'd absolutely be something hanging in an elderly lady's house, with flowers and little bees and the whole nine yards.

He leaves the towel there anyways.]

So, what's the prognosis? Can you make something fancy?

... Uh. "Fancy" might be a stretch...

[Like, he found some cheese in the fridge? And there's a few slices of wonder bread lying around to boot. Combined with everything else sitting pitifully on the counter, Sanji rubs at his chin, and glances in Peter's direction.]

Tuna casserole sound alright? Because that's what you're getting.

[So they'll be fed, it's just not gonna blow anyone's socks off]

Listen, it's the best I can do under pressure and with your poor fuckin excuse for groceries.

[..............]

You can really make that out of this?

[This is more serious than anything else ever, hold the presses, stop everything.]

I mean — of course you can! I shouldn't even be surprised. You're only one of the best chefs I've ever seen. Okay, maybe I don't know many chefs, but...

[Looking... a little dumbfounded at the reaction he's getting, so much that Sanji has to stop eyeing the ingredients and shoot Peter another look of confusion.

It's not even that he's unused to praise -- hell, he can't go a day of work without someone thanking him for the grub -- but Peter just sounds so damned amazed, and that's...]

Tch, being a great chef's got nothing to do with it. [A shrug, a pause, in which he rubs at his reddening ears and tries to scoff. Doesn't work, but shit, he tried.]

You just get used to pairing certain ingredients together, it's not that different from chemistry.

[-- Or so his mother would say, is the evasive thought that crosses his mind, and feels his chest tighten briefly before he huffs and straightens his shoulders]

Won't take but 30 shitty minutes.

Edited 2019-05-27 05:24 (UTC)

Uhh, if it's so much like chemistry, why did I almost burn down an apartment with dumplings?

[He grins, leaning back on his hands as he's perched.]

You're awesome, just accept your defeat. Your only consolation is I'll let you pick something on TV while we chow down; I have channels. Like, sixty of them. Isn't that crazy? And here I thought I'd just have a static-y version of PBS in this complex.

Prooobably because you're an idiot.

Or you have no idea the properties of food and how much heat is too much.

[Smirking, lightly, though uh, absolutely making no comment about accepting defeat or whatever else bullshit Peter is trying to sell. The channels, though--

60, he says. That's cute. You're cute, Peter.]

Don't really watch TV -- I'll let you pick. My consolation can be you not bothering me while I cook.

Wow. You act like I'm not the best company for cooking!

[He considers it for a moment, though.]

I could always just turn on the TV guide and let it scroll forever. They do have TV Guide still, right...? Oh! Or I can dust off that VCR player Celeste gave me — which I'm pretty sure is haunted, but you know how I like a little thrill in my life...!

[He hops off the counter, and vanishes into The Room of Boxes.]

If you see any spirits floating around, at least give me a head's up!

That way I can bargain that they can have you if they just let me leave in peace!

[immediately POKING HIS HEAD 'ROUND THE CORNER SO PETER CAN HEAR HIM PROPERLY]

-- You know with that shitty attitude, you'll never get fed, right?

[And then also vanishing on his end, too, because there's a meal to prepare and all. Though he'll keep to his promise -- making a tuna casserole doesn't take all that much preparation. Just chopping up the veggies, layering the ingredients, toasting up the bread and crumbling it into chunks over the finished product hot out of the oven, along with plenty of cheese.

To Sanji's standards? Not the best thing he's ever made, and he wishes they'd had a wider variety of ingredients. But it doesn't look too bad, either. Wiping his hands on a stray towel, he decides that'll just have to do.]

Oi. Pete' it's done.

[He pops up on the other side of the counter like a meerkat out of a hole in the ground.]

Thank god. You can't see it but I totally gnawed my own leg off to survive.

[... Die Hard comes floating up from behind the counter, too.]

How about a Christmas movie? Or maybe How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?

... The Lion King?

[... Oh no.

He loves Disney movies]

[He's also not about to admit that shit, so:]

Uh, you... choose.

[Rubbing awkwardly at his neck]

I've only seen one of those, anyway.

[He HUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMS in thought.]

Man, I don't know... This is a hard choice...

Timone and Pumba are the dream team, though. I can't deny I could use some of that.

[He tucks all three VHS tapes under his arm, wandering into Sanji's personal space to lean in and smell the casserole for approval (which is pretty easily won, it's Peter Parker).]

Man, that smells so good.

The last time I cooked something, it smelled like nail polish.

-- I'm gonna at least teach you how to boil water tomorrow.

[Gonna make your aunt proud, Peter, once Sanji shows you how to work all the shiny knobs on a stove top without burning something. Because the look he shoots Peter is down right dismayed, and followed on the heels of Sanji nudging Peter in the ribs with his elbow.]

Oi oi, if you're gonna hover, get some plates.

[... muttering quickly as he goes to fetch the utensils]

And the Lion King's, uh -- that's fine.

Oh, right. Plates. Did we unpack the plates...

[He goes wandering off yet again to The Box Room.

... And calls out:]

Lion King's a masterpiece!

And I totally know how to boil water! That's one of the only steps I can do!

[.............]

Maybe we should just eat it around out of the pan...?!

[Is this Peter Parker, referring the easiest solution possible instead of digging through a bunch of boxes?

Yes.]

[Peter Parker is a Heathen but this tuna casserole is going to taste a lot better hot than it will lukewarm. So even if it's against his high brow sensibilities...]

Fine, you animal. We'll eat from the pan.

[GUESS HE'LL JUST TAKE IT TO THE... living room? Which one's the living room? Probably the room with the TV, he figures, and places the still steaming hot pan on the ...

Do they have a table set up yet? No? Right then, Sanji stews in judgmental silence before huffing a relenting sight and putting his hard work onto a stray, sturdy box.]

And of course it's a masterpiece. Most Disney films are.

[Well, the classics are. Sanji is definitely one of those "BACK IN MY DAY" Disney fans who would whip someone for saying they preferred Frozen to The Little Mermaid]

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