#especially given that no one in my family is much of a drinker but we were like okay we have to find this cider

[quatregats]

Listening to the Dreadnoughts and being reminded of the fact that I managed to get my parents so obsessed with "Joli Rouge" that my dad spent half a year planning a trip to Quebec just so we could go to visit the mighty Saguenay

[azumasoroshi]

minidura chapter 9 react

COLOR PAGE????

COLOR PAGE!!!!

since when did shinra have blue eyes though

actually i just looked up images of him but what fucking color are those?? blue?? gray?? brown??

shinra is benedict cumberbatch i guess

also shinra beating izaya at cards (and especially poker) is hilarious i need more of that

shinra please tell shizaya to kiss. do it for me

THIS IS SO CUTE AHHHHHHHHH

shizuo and izaya agreeing with each other when it comes to preventing shinra from straight up killing them lets go!!!! plus shizuo asking if shinra cheated because izaya lost ashdkgjsdkjghdssd

izaya totally cheated and still lost he's so pathetic <33333

the way he says "then" after that though like. he was actually considering dissection and money laundering PFFF

yes eat lunch together i promise it wont go horribly wrong

they've really never done this in canon though?? maybe i just read too much fanfiction about it

oh i guess they definitely havent done it before 😭

maybe this is a start. maybe they do it every day after this

izaya's cat face is so cute rhfhrgjhhjgh

only shizuo and izaya would be so baffled at the idea of eating lunch together help

like if these were ANY other people they'd be like oh sure why not! not these losers

watch the entire chapter just be them stalling help

THEY FINISH EACH OTHERS SENTENCES!! married couple behavior fr fr (<-delusional)

they havent argued once in this chapter yet so im taking everything i can get ok

the only things that will get shizaya to be on the same wavelength are eating simon's food and being afraid of shinra

THEY'RE SO CUTE!! the holy trio of malewives

i choose to believe that was both of them saying 'shinra shut up'

meals for the family man because they're going to start a family together (<-delusional but like. more than usual)

i sense a food fight incoming

oh yeah this is going on my twitter banner

cant believe we have two whole chapters of shizaya cooking together in the minidura manga. out of ten chapters. probably representative of how the mangaka was cooking fr

SOMEONE REPLACE THIS WITH THE GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY MEME RIGHT NOW

izaya would be the one out of the two of them to make moe anime girl noises (my entire friend group)

honestly how has shinra not gone insane from dealing with these two for the entirety of high school

scratch that he is insane my bad

it's like herding cats, not because they keep going in opposite directions, but because they keep fighting

of course they disagree on food tastes too. someone's leaving this kitchen with a broken spine

ive just stopped screenshotting and started posting entire pages because everything is gold

"are you that confident in your tongue" i bet you ten bucks that i could find that line in a shizaya smut fanfiction in less than 20 minutes

at least shinra's having fun

married couple behavior for sure. who doesnt bicker while cooking together

oops

shizuo would be good at cooking if izaya wasn't provoking him 😭maybe. idk the milk drinker genes might hinder him actually

for a moment there i thought they were going to have no food at all bgkjgsjsgdk

izaya and shizuo look so cute in the back thoughhhh look at themmm

shinra. shinra why would you say that they're going to kill each other. shinra. SHINRA

oh nvm i guess they were too tired to argue 😭being in forced proximity for this long is literally harder than chasing each other

wait whats that psychology term for it again. group. something. group goal SUBORDINATE GOAL thats it. a goal given to two opposing groups that forces them to cooperate and will usually eventually make them like each other more (it has never worked for shizaya. see the simon chapter) (also excuse the psychology terminology i have my final test in a month or so and this is the only way i can force myself to study)

so cuteeeeeeeeeeeeeee

shinra sitting between them pfft

izaya's cat face actually kills me every time

either the food is amazing or the food is dogshit and i dont know which one would be funnier

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

ok thats better than either of those options

this chapter has literally just been shizuo and izaya Going Through It

"everyone should get along like me and celty" is he saying shizaya should date. yes he is because i said so

also izaya moving even further away from shinra LMFAO he'd rather be in hitting range of shizuo than have to deal with shinra's celty shpeal

there's so many good reaction pictures with shizaya this chapter ill definitely be cutting them out to make into a banner at some point

im convinced this serves as a precious memory for both of them even if they dont realize it >:)

99999/10 chapter i enjoyed every second of it

[neuroticboyfriend]

i know this isn't your job so feel free to ignore this ask but something happened i'm thinking over i used to live with a foster family, and i've been getting more involved with them recently, and the last time i was there (a few days ago) two members of said family mentioned that i should come over for 'family drinking night' and get drunk with them and i asked my foster mom (one of the people proposing this) why and she said because she thinks it'd be funny as a person who has two alcoholic (bio) parents, who each had a parent of their own who was an alcoholic, i'm extremely worried that if I ever try alcohol at all that I won't be able to resist the temptation and I'll start drinking a lot I thought i didn't have to worry about social pressures to drink because I'm not 21 yet, which is something I brought up, and my foster mom said that it's fine if I drink with adult supervision my question is basically.... do you think I'm wrong to be afraid? idk if you have any genetic predisposition, but as a recovering alcoholic, did it start the first time you drank or...? (also me mentioning that they're foster family is just to highlight the dynamic; i consider these people family, they took me in when bio family wanted to wash their hands of me and have never wronged me. i love them. this being said I live with my bio dad who might flip out if he finds out they want me to drink because he does it but he doesn't want me to since he "had" a drinking problem and his mom was an alcoholic.)

you're not wrong to be afraid, and IMO, if you have a family history of alcoholism, the recreational value of drinking isn't worth the risk. especially if you're mentally ill or otherwise neurodivergent. my grandfather was an alcoholic and i assume we're not the only ones in our family with the illness.

alcoholism presents differently in a lot of people but, for many it does technically start with the first drink - it did for me. big warning signs in your reaction to just one/normal drinking are... feeling a profound sense of ease or confidence. wishing you felt that way all the time. thinking about how x, y, and z are so much easier while drinking. doing it once, or a few times, and then finding you really look forward to "next time."

a lot of us start by having a few drinks, not too frequently, as if we're normal drinkers. we could stop if we wanted to, but why stop if it's making us feel good? and then, eventually, it progresses and we're drinking more and more, or more dangerously, or both. for me, the progression from looks-like-normal-drinking to dangerously alcoholic "this is consuming my entire life" happened within months. eventually alcohol doesn't even feel good anymore, and you can't stop (on your own) even if you want to.

so to reiterate, you are not wrong to be afraid and if you're worried you won't be able to resist the temptation, odds are, you shouldn't drink. idk if you've done it yet, and if you have, i suggest really reflecting on the experience and considering if it's worth continuing given the risks. i wouldn't do it, if i were you. but i'm not you, so the choice is yours. whatever happens, i'm here.

[cerseiwexler]

Beatriz + all the Symbols - I like all of those questions.

i always appreciate when u send me big chunks of questions, it gives me something to do + makes me feel like ppl are interested in my ocs so! thank you! @aworldofyou

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

beatriz doesn’t mind the popular music of her era (in both english and spanish), but her heart really lies with outlaw country — that’s the genre she actively keeps up with.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

after she kills the sheriff, she’s plagued with nightmares, but often her late husband shows up in them to calm her down too. she likes her baths so hot they’re almost scalding. aaand she doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but she’s a sucker for homemade ribbon candy and makes it herself around christmas.

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

she’s a pretty light sleeper, especially after her husband passes away. she took a lot of comfort in having his weight next to her. sometimes trusted folks from town will stay over in the spare bedroom and that helps her feel safe and sleep better too.

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

yes and yes! she doesn’t have much of an opportunity to do so given the environment she grew up in, but she certainly does enjoy a pool, especially once her daughter has one in her own home that she’s free to visit anytime.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

yes! a rifle and a revolver. she isn’t especially skilled with either, but knows how to get the job done. needless 2 say lol!!!

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

she knows basic first aid and keeps medical supplies on hand. it’s important/practical when you/your family work on the land and occasionally run into bumps and bruises as a result.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

she smokes. picked up the habit before we knew it was bad for you and struggled to quit. she managed to reduce her intake quite a bit, though. drinking is more of a social thing for her. religious too, with the traditions involving wine. but she’s not much of a drinker in general!

[19eyebrows]

Hiii!! So I saw you posted that you need ideas for a fanfic, so here are a few that I feel like you could use! (I have some more on my page if you aren’t feeling any of the below)

• Praise Kink AU (already recommended in your comments, but the idea may be fun to write)

• I’m not sure of the name of this AU, but it’s basically where one day, Mo wakes up with a tail and cat ears, and he has to figure out a way to get rid of them.

• Spy AU! They’re working on a top secret mission. You can make this as spicy or as pg as necessary :)

• Genie/God AU. One day, He Tian finds a golden luxuriously designed teapot. Little did he know was that it held a powerful spirit with anger issues

I hope this helps! Happy writing!! <3

@kindregard @dollitanea and @stfuoxjustupdated : all those ideas inspired me to write a combination of the God/Genie AU and the Praise kink AU. Hope you'll like it <3 I'll do it in headcanon style because i have many ideas and not enough time to write a full ff. (but i wish i could)

____________________________________

- Mo Guanshan is a lower god who got cursed to serve humans for eternity

- he angered the higher demon She Li who demanded full loyalty and who-knows-what from Mo who refused to give in

- so She Li cursed him to serve humans who Mo despised so much because of their greedy and violent behaviour

- Mo was caged in a teapot for now over 300 years

- whenever a human found his teapot and took a sip of the made tea Guanshan would manifest and had to fulfil his masters demands for three years than he would be given to the next owner by chance

- but sometimes the teapot would get lost and between his owners are long years of Mo not be able to get out - the curse is really terrible - if he is out on earth he has to serve, if he doesn't serve he is caged for multiple years (sometimes mor than 30 years)

- many owerns of him were real asshols who just wanted to get their desires satisfied (not sexual but material) and never treated Mo real well

- especially when they found out that Mo wasn't able to do the big things like winning a war or get someone back from the death or even kill someone. He wasn't even able to make someone rich per se. He could help lifting the status and could make things happen that would lead to money but the humans still had to do their part. Mo was still just a lower god without the big power.

- except for an old woman who found Mo back in 1910 who was really kind to him and never demand anything big. Mostly health and food for her family. It had been Mo's most happy years since he got cursed

- it was the first time he experienced kindness and now he was longing for it.

- than years of silence again

- until He Tian found the teapot in an antique shop

- something had made him buy that old thing but he could say why. He wasn't even the big tea drinker.

- but then, just when he was purring his first cup of tea the air change and suddenly there was a young man in his living room

- "What the-" he would have screamed but his mouth was already covered by a hand

- "Yeah yeah surprise and shit. Can we skip the part where you're freaking out and try to kill me? Would make things easier for both of us. So will you let me introduce myself without screaming?"

- He Tian is too shocked to literally do ANYTHING

- "Perfect" and so Mo introduces himself and he gave He Tian time to process everything

"To get it straight... You are a god."

"Yup"

"And you are here to serve me for 3 years if I agree to it?"

"Unfortunately"

"Because, and I quote 'that asshole god fucked you over real bad'"

"That's the deal"

"So I can ask for anything?"

"Mostly, as long as you play by the rules I just explained."

"No war, no money, no killing."

"Wow one of the smarter monkeys, must be my luck day"

- He Tian takes the deal

- first he demands stupid things from Mo (cooking, cleaning, reading to him) and Guanshan already thinks that his new master is a real weirdo. He feels more like a maid than a god

- and He Tian does something really uncommon: he thanks Mo whenever a demand was fulfilled

- over the time He Tian grew found of his new found roommate. First he teased him quite a lot (try to find out what the god would do and what not and how he would react) but once that curiosity was satisfied he just enjoyed the company

- Mo finds out that He Tian was actually a lonely human

- he saw him handing out with 'friends' but He Tian never seems to genuinely having fun or telling anyone about himself. He was very closed

- "You humans are really weird. Why are you acting all fake when you are together? I don't get it"

- He Tian is quite for a moment "Because we don't want anyone to see our weaknesses. We have to act to fit in the society"

"Sounds like a shitty live to me"

"Says the god who is dammed to play butler 24/7 for eternity?"

"Touché"

- He Tian than smiles genuinely and Mo is a bit taken aback

"Tell me more about you and what it's like to be a god. Is there a way to break that curse of yours?"

"There is... but i would rather be serving She Li himself than going that way"

"What is it?"

"I would have to give up on my immortality and became a human"

"Would it be that bad"

"Yes"

- He Tian wasn't expecting that answer but he didn't pressed any further, somehow it made him sad

- later they kept oon with their weird coexistence until one day He Cheng came for a visit.

- Mo was hidden in his teapot but still could hear all what the brothers were talking about. Mostly how disappointed their father was with He Tian that would hid himself away when he should be helping their family business already. He Tian was arguing back that he needed to concentrate on his studies and will help once he was done. His brother didn't sounded very convinced. "You know that you can't escape." "At least I can try"

-when He Cheng was gone some time passed until He Tian was calling for Mo

- he seems down and exhausted when Mo appeared before him

- He Tian let himself lay down on the couch and the silence grew

"Can I do anything?" (Mo doesn't knew how to handle the situation)

"Can you make my family disappear? Or me?"

"I already told you that I can't kill anyone"

"No not kill-argh doesn't matter. I just want to be away from all this. Living a normal life. Do you understand?"

"No" how could a god understand those things?

"But I have an idea" he took He Tians hand

"Say 'I wish to be far away'"

"I wish to be far away?"

"Wish granted"

- and Mo teleports them on a greek island

- it won't make He Tians problems disappear but it was the only thing Mo could think about to cheer him up. To take him far away.

- they spent a beautiful evening at the beach until it was time to return.

- when it was time to go to bed He Tian held Mo back who was about to return in his teapot

"Can I ask for one more thing."

"Sure"

"Will you join me tonight?"

"Okay, if it's your wish" even if Mo didn’t understand why

- they lay in the dark and suddenly He Tian is grabbing Mo's hand

"Thank you. I'm glad you are here" he whispers

-and suddenly something in Mo is moving, it was like something hot was washing down his vains. It was the feeling of power.

- something Mo didn’t knew and She Li never thought about because Mo was too low ranked was that if a god was acknowledge by another being he would become stronger. And if said beings or more started go praise them (transferring their positiv energy to them) the gods would step up in their rank

- He Tian and the old lady both have acknowledged Mo and thanked him. So it made Mo stronger so he actually just stepped up in rank

- and He Tian's last thanks was so full of honest gratitude and happiness that it hit Mo like a train

- and it became like a drug to him

- He WANTED to be thanked MORE

- He Tian noticed the change in Mo's gratitude, that he put extra efforts in his tasks

- he asks Mo about it and since Mo is not able to lie he explains the situation

"Does that mean you can break the curse on your own if you get stronger."

"Yes! I just need to be strong than that asshole and then his curse is gone for good and I never needed to fear to become a human."

Now He Tian had to ask "Why would that be so horrible? Being a human I mean"

Mo looks him straight in the eyes "Because for our kind you would force them into a body without power that would die. Die in just one blink of the eye. It would be like if you would be forced to live the life of an hamster. It will hurt us and eventually kill us. I'm afraid of it."

- that was a lot to take in. He Tian never thought of it in that way, from his perspective a human live was long enough but for Mo it was nothing. Just a hamster.

- "I'm sorry"

_________________________________________

Part 2 will follow but I'm running out of energy. Hope you like it.

[ren-c-leyn]

Hello, and Welcome to The Queen’s Crown! ~ A Blog Intro

 Hello, I’m Ren C. Leyn (I pronounce Leyn as lee-en, for the curious). My pronouns are she/her. I’m an adult who writes high and dark fantasy, poetry, and occasionally other random genres when the mood strikes me. It’s nice to meet you!

Some random things about me and my blog.

~ Love flowers and animals.

~ All of my writing is shamelessly self indulgent.

~ Am more known around here for my flood of positivity posts than said writing, but that’s fine with me. Folks around here really seem to need it.

~ Am an old one of the writeblr scene, have been here for several years. (If you’ve got questions about how writeblr works, feel free to ask.)

~ Have been obsessed with dragons, elves, and monsters since my mother introduced me to mythology when I was a little girl. (I am still a huge mythology nerd. Old myths, legends, and the like were wild.)

~ I participate in World Building Wednesday and Storyteller Saturday every week and run a weekly event called Something Neat Sunday. Feel free to stop by for any of them, even if we haven’t interacted much/at all.

~ I am not around on Thursdays or Fridays, so don’t expect answers to anything during that time until Saturday.

~ I run Something Neat Sunday, a weekly event where people stop by my ask box to scream about their talents writer and artist friends. If you’d like to learn more, here’s the link to the introduction post:

https://at.tumblr.com/ren-c-leyn/something-neat-sundays/25b9se7ud2h3

~ Tea drinker.

~ I love video games, particularly old school or open world rpgs, visual novels with multiple endings, and management games. But my taste can be pretty random, I play everything from match 3 to the occasional platformer.

~ Am firmly against pirating, especially writing. I’m also not a fan of bullies, people who think threats against real people are an appropriate response to not liking how a piece of fiction was done, people who think death threats and suicide-baiting in general are okay, and anything of that sort. If you do these things I will probably just block and/or report you, so don’t. ^^

~ I’d prefer people who follow be 15 or older, because while my blog is safe for work I do work with a lot of darker themes, such as death, violence, war, and so on in my writing. I also reblog a lot of writing with those themes from other writers as well.

~ Please do not add me to taglists unless I’ve explicitly said I’d like to be added.

About my WIPs -

I have several, several projects in the works at any given time. So, I’ll be putting this under a read more for convince sake. I do work with some darker themes, such as death, violence, and so on, so tread lightly.

If you want to know more about a specific project or character, most of them have their own tags in my blog and you can search for them, or you can ask me questions about them anytime you feel like it. The ask box is always open, after all :D I have taglists for all projects, so feel free to ask to be added to them anytime you wish.

Actively Writing -

The Plight of a Sparrow. Progress: Currently prepping book 1 for querying, editing book 2′s forth draft, and starting book 3. Estimated to be at least a 5 book series.

A high fantasy isekai story with a twist. Sparrow used to be a quiet girl with a love of video games under a different name. Then, she died in an impossible way right after unlocking the last achievement in her favorite game. Reborn in the beautiful fantasy world of that game as a literal baby, she quickly realizes life here is anything but a game and the stakes couldn’t be higher now that her beloved characters are her friends and family and on routes that lead to doom. Cursed, burdened with a rare sought-after magic, and surrounded by dark secrets and plots she couldn’t even dream of, how can she survive, little alone make a difference, when she isn’t even the chosen hero of this world?

1st person, past tense, narrated from Sparrow’s point of view.

Characters - Sparrow, Raina, Hugh, Jalen, Claude, Hunter, Aaron, Mist, Erinus, and probably more that have yet to make an appearance.

The Shackles of Time - Progress: Hard to gauge as it’s a continuous story being posted chapter by chapter here on tumblr.

A high fantasy story following three rookie adventurers on their quests to become legends, as well as their fellow guildmates.

In a world littered with the bones of ancient  monsters of old, the ruins of civilizations risen and fallen, there are  legendary halls where heroes gather to seek their fame and glory.  Perhaps one of the most famous among their illustrious ranks is the Dawn  Isle Guild, whose legendary, albeit mysterious, guild master has  overcome many ruinous challenges before suddenly retiring.

But  these are different times than the ones the previous generation faced.  Quieter times. Gone are the ancient dragons that razed cities, and  felled are the giants that collapsed mountains, banished is the Mad God.  Yet, that does not stop brave souls from seeking new challenges to  face. New foes to overcome. New adventures to be had. Three such  hopefuls seek this path. While they come from different region, walked  different roads, and all carry different reasons, their fates all  collide beneath the ruins of a floating golden city at the gates of the  Dawn Isle Guild.

What adventures await these three would be heroes, and are they prepared to face them? Only the Gods know….

Here is the post where I’ll be cataloging all of the chapters as I write them.

https://ren-c-leyn.tumblr.com/post/669507479957356544/the-shackles-of-time-chapter-masterlist

Characters: Night, Merle, Arlen, Cherrenth, Glenn, Zephyr, Bramble, Wyndulin, Cassandra, Emlyn, Myria, Irryn, Nor, Drusilla, Eldrin, Lucien, Azalea, Riya, and likely many more that will be introduced as I go along.

Forgotten Gods - Progress: Starting the second draft! :D

A fantasy novel set in a world where multiple pantheons of gods are not only real, but always vying for power and the attentions of the mortals. Silver left everything behind on a dark and uncertain night. Unable to return home, she scrambles desperately for a way forward when a strange being she doesn’t recognize offers her something she cannot refuse: the power to change her own fate. Kitan is a chosen champion of a popular sun goddess, but can’t figure out why. Why she saw a champion in him when no one else can seem to see any worth in him whatsoever. Why she won’t give him the guidance other Gods give their champions, only power and slivers of emotions to light his way. Reuven, an exiled elven hunter, is on a quest to find himself out in the wide world before he returns home. While retracing his mother’s steps, he finds so much more than he expected in the northern forests when he runs into two champions of the Gods: one with something to hide, and one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. What tangled webs have the Gods woven for these three unlikely friends? Can they survive the coming storm? Or will their fates consume them?

Third person, past tense. Written in alternating chapters that follow each of the three main characters.

Characters: Silver, Reuven, Kitan, Eternity, Corona, Cordial, and probably others that haven’t appeared yet.

On Hiatus -

My Ancestor, My Enemy - Progress: Somewhere between a third and half way through the first draft. Currently on hiatus while I work on other projects and continue my ongoing struggle to finally pick an ending for it.

A dark fantasy novel as told by the field journal of Lierin, a high-ranking elven Hunter tasked with finding one of her missing comrades, and eliminating the monsters he had been tasked with killing. Battling with her own identity, rage, and the strange creatures her ancestors created, Lierin must descend into more than one kind of darkness as she explores a ‘cursed’ cavern system. What horrors will she find in the depths of the caverns? What secrets did her ancestors leave behind? Can she save herself, little alone the other Hunter? Or will everything be lost to darkness?

First person, past/present tense, told through the writings of Lierin’s journal.

Characters - Lierin.

Orion’s Oblivion - 1/3 to 1/2 way through first draft.

A Sci-fi/fantasy story. Orion was on a routine job, an easy one even. All he had to do was grab the guy, bring him back, collect his bounty, and that’d be the end of it. It would have been the end of it, except the small-fry criminal wasn’t the only one he picked up on that asteroid. He comes face to face with Jinx, an ancient vampire from a time all but forgotten, and she’s got unfinished business to settle. Business that she’s decided to drag him into, whether he wants to be or not. Business that she’s dragging the whole, damn universe into whether it likes it or not, because saving it is her business... no matter what the cost is.

Will be written in first person from Orion’s point of view, not sure if I’ll be doing past or present tense yet.

Characters: Jinx, Spark, Orion, Luck, Silence, and probably others who will make themselves known as I go along.

The Dragon’s Crown - Progress: rewriting the first draft of the script, planning/plotting, and practicing digital art so I can eventually be good enough to start working on the art assets.

A fantasy visual novel following the misadventures of Ophelia the thief, a notorious criminal, after her latest job goes wrong. A pair of mercenaries help her out of it, but repaying her debt to them brings her past crashing back into her life. There’s just somethings she can’t seem to outrun, no matter how hard she tries. Some skeletons will never stay buried, some secrets will never stay secret. All the dark things are coming back to haunt her. Now she has to decide what to do about it. Face the sins of her family? Keep running? Save the kingdom her ancestors built? Condemn it? Try to become a better person, or sink deeper into the darkness? What of the people around her? Can she trust any of them? Should she trust any of them? And can they trust her?

First person, present tense, with some third person scenes, mostly narrated from Ophelia’s point of view.

Characters - Ophelia, Henrietta, Cyrus, Sky, Karma, Crow, and Reason.

Somewhere In between -

The Firewalker - Progress: First draft completed! Letting it sit before beginning draft 2.

A fantasy story following the after math of a holy war between two pantheons of gods. Two of the children of the mortals who fought it are now faced with their own struggles, trying to find a place in this new world and who they are. She’s an assassin, a killer, the exact opposite of what she ever wanted to become. In too deep to wash her hands of the blood, she decides to add to her list of sins for a chance at freedom and to follow in her father’s footsteps. He’s a mage, a descendant of the priests of the old gods, hunted and feared by all. Angry with his lot in life, he lashes out at the hunters, earning his title as a monster. Though, he secretly longs to reclaim a sense of belonging, of home and family, something he lost so long ago.... Both wish for something more, even if they don’t deserve it, even if getting it will cost them everything. When their paths cross, will they pull each other out of the darkness, or push each other further over the edge? Can they survive their combined enemies long enough to even find out?

Multiple POV first person, past tense, narrated in alternating chapters from both Thistle and Valerian’s point of views.

Characters - Thistle, Valerian, Anise, Talon, Sin

[o-fantome]

The Feminization and Fetishization of John Laurens in the Hamilton Musical and its Fandom

In this I will be talking about a few things:

The whole “turtle boi” thing

His role in the musical

The feminization of him in the fandom

The fetishization of him (and his relationship with Hamilton)

The shredded bits of personality he has in the musical

His historical personality being taken from him and instead added to Hamilton’s character

I will not be putting any art of him in here to respect the artists’ privacy, but if you’ve been in the Hamilton fandom or at least heard of the issues I’m talking about, you’ll probably know what drawings I mean. Also, no hate to anyone or any artists who I may indirectly mention, or to anyone in the Hamilton Musical fandom. I understand that not everyone in the fandom is like this, but I will just be using the broad term “the fandom” for simplicity. 

[cw: mentions of alcohol and alcoholism]

“UwU Turtle Boi John Laurens”

This image of him likely stemmed from the one drawing he did of a softshell turtle. But how the fandom took that and blew it up into him being obsessed with turtles and other sea creatures is beyond my knowledge. A lot of art depicts him with turtle stuffed animals or riding turtles or just general turtle-lover stuff. Not only are these wrong, but they’re also pretty weird. They often tie into the strange feminization of him, which I will discuss later.

His Role in the Musical

Laurens in the musical acts like Hamilton’s sidekick. He follows him around most of the scenes where they are together. He is almost always at Hamilton’s side, and when he is not or he is at the side of another character, he ends back up at Hamilton’s side fairly quickly. This seems like it makes sense, right? Hamilton is the main character, of course, everyone else is going to be behind him or beside him in some way. But it feels very forced, like Lin-Manuel Miranda purposefully made it so Hamilton was above everyone, no matter the cost. Laurens’ character suffered from this, and any kind of standing or power he held just from his personality alone was gone. What he is to Hamilton is like what Patroclus was to Achilles; a sidekick, overshadowed by the other’s glory and popularity. 

An example of this is the Laurens-Lee duel scene. Historically, Laurens was the “trigger happy” one. When the first shot was fired between himself and Lee, he wanted to go again. Hamilton was not very happy that the duel was happening. When both sides (Hamilton and Laurens, Lee and his second Evan Edwards) arrived, he and Edwards tried to get Laurens and Lee to just apologize and be on their way. Laurens refused. When Laurens wanted to shoot again, Hamilton prevented him from doing so. In the show, however, the roles seem reversed.

The Feminization of Him in the Fandom

In almost every Hamilton musical fanfic or story I have read (and I have read quite a bit from my time in this fandom) Laurens is so feminine-- especially in lams fics. He acts feminine, he dresses feminine, he is described in the fics as feminine, he carries around his cute uwu turtle stuffie wearing his cute feminine uwu turtle pyjamas. It’s sickening. John Laurens was a brave soldier and a talented artist and this is how the fandom sees him? As some freckled gay baby twink?

Not only is this disrespectful to John Laurens, it is also disrespectful to Anthony Ramos, who played him in the OBC. 

The Fetishization of Him and His Relationship with Hamilton

This, the feminization of him and the “UwU Turtle Boi” character are all very similar. You could argue that this and the “UwU Turtle Boi” character are the same, or that this and the feminization of him are the same. You wouldn’t be wrong; they are all very similar and overlap a lot. Because I covered the “UwU Turtle Boi” character already and have no more to say here about it, I will talk about how the fandom treats his relationship with Hamilton.

There are two very opposite sides of the “was lams real” spectrum: “it was not real, shipping founding fathers is gross,” and, “they were gay!!! Laurens was gay for Hammy!!! Read the letters!!!!” Both sides’ beliefs are valid; you are allowed to think what you want about this topic. It is a somewhat controversial topic that has no clear answer, and therefore is always being discussed. However, just because your belief is valid, doesn’t mean that the way you chose to phrase it is necessarily okay. I get that most of the people who say the second opinion tend to be young girls who may not know better, but the way that something is phrased is very important.

Read these two different phrasings of the same opinion, and think to yourself, “Which one sounds more fetishize-y?” 

“I believe that Hamilton and Laurens were in a relationship based on evidence from the letters they sent each other.”

“Hammy and Laurens were gay! Read the letters! He says ‘I love you!’ They were super gay!”

Too many fangirls have called Laurens things like “gay boi” or “smol gay cinnamon roll.” I’ve also seen a very concerning amount of people call him their husband or hubby or dead boyfriend. I don’t think I need to explain how disgusting that is.

His Terrible Personality and Character

His entire character can be boiled down to “tyranny bad, alcohol good.” He’s loud and rowdy and a very boisterous person, shouting and running around and causing a ruckus. It is unlikely that the real Laurens was like this. Seeing as he came from a family of wealth and standing, he would have likely been taught to behave properly and be polite. He was rash at times, especially during battle, but other than that he seemed very professional. His rowdiness makes sense in some scenes when he’s in the war, but other than that part of the show, it doesn’t fit him.

Alcohol is a very big part of his personality for some reason. In his first (real) scene in Aaron Burr, sir, he’s talking about alcohol and drinking and even bragging about how much he drinks. At the very beginning of Satisfied, he’s offering drinks to other people and is very clearly drunk. As far as we know, the real Laurens was not a heavy drinker.

His lack of character can be explained, though. While writing the personalities of the characters, whoever was doing it took Laurens’ historical personality and gave it to Hamilton instead, leaving Laurens with almost nothing.

His Historical Personality Being Added to Hamilton’s Character

I’ve already talked about the Laurens-Lee duel, but I have yet to bring up what happened after it. In the show, Hamilton is brought into Washington’s office and Washington gets into an argument with him, which ends in Washington sending Hamilton home. Besides the fact that the timeline of these events is incredibly off, this is not at all what happened. After the duel, Hamilton wrote up a report on what happened to be given to Washington either the day of or after the duel. When Washington found out what happened, he was furious. Not at Hamilton, but at Laurens. Lin-Manuel Miranda took this from Laurens and changed the story so that it was Hamilton who got chewed out because Hamilton is the main character, not Laurens.

Conclusion

Lin-Manuel Miranda just tore up Laurens’ personality, leaving him as a rowdy alcoholic who eye-fucks Hamilton for the entirety of Act I. The fandom then took this empty shell of a character, combined it with random historical facts about him, and created a turtle-loving twink. Disgusting. Everything about this is so gross.

[threadedwheels]

Ember Parca,

I’m happy to hear the tea was to your liking. It’s good to know that you enjoy both tea and coffee in some capacity— it has given me some ideas going forward. When this is over, I’ll make sure to arrange a suitable gift to go alongside some fresh tea leaves, so please look forward to it. 

Everyone in my family is an avid coffee drinker, but coffee is exceptionally bitter back where I’m from, so I’m sure they would appreciate a roast with a natural sweetness. 

(Not to mention…caffeine is always welcome in our line of work, to be honest.)

Since you brought it up, would you mind telling me more about Moirai? It’s unlikely that I’ll have the means to visit in the near future…but one day, maybe. I’d like to, if given the chance.     

Food is a very interesting field of study, at any rate. It has its own history, and regional cuisines are a fascinating means to learn about different places. It’s a good way to widen one’s horizons, I believe. For instance, there was a point in time when my homeland experienced a sugar shortage, so it wound up becoming a symbol of luxury and hospitality. Even if it is no longer scarce, many people are now partial to desserts and sweetened beverages as a result.

I won’t bore you with any more details, but this is all to say that I’m curious about where you come from. Other than coffee, do you have any dishes or ingredients you especially enjoy back home?

Anyway, travelling with a friend sounds nice, so I do hope you get to enjoy yourself. As for me, I don’t think there’s anything in particular I look forward to this time of year. Not usually. But I suppose welcoming the new year isn’t all bad…despite it being busy and exhausting in its own right. 

I’m not sure I have much else to say for now, so please take care. 

Dear Penpal,

I’m never quite sure what to say about my home. The best way to understand Moirai is the story that my family has passed down through the generations:

There was once three sisters each with their own ability to tell past, present, and future with alarming accuracy. The powerful families at the time would source their guidance to assist with their planning and in return all the sisters wanted was some power. One day though, they provided assistance to a powerful group that sought to overthrow the leaders. This failed and the sisters themselves were exiled. Many followed with them, seeking their wisdom or training, and Moirai was formed.

They came here because they had no where else, and it is here our family will stay.

Due to their isolation, the three sisters and their families honed their powers. The one who could see the present honed hers in the best, understanding what was needed then to excel. Her kids trained the same, and even as her sisters’ families’ powers stayed to past and future and eventually left Moirai, her decendents had one person per generation capable of seeing all. They were to become the Oracle, as the fates declared and as the fates foresaw. There is no avoiding this, as Lachesis wove into the tapestry of fate many, many years ago.

…apologies for that bulk of information. I was rereading it earlier to investigate something.

Moirai is no longer as isolated at the base of the mountains. The Oracle is now asked by leaders again so my family has to frequently visit other places. We are still a village of crafters like my ancestors were, so expect to see many tapestries and stalls advertising them as well as other crafted goods, drinks, and food. Though be sure to bundle up a lot this time of year- we are high enough in the mountains to freeze.

I think this may be the first new year I won’t be working through. Hopefully you are granted some reprieve and rest.

Look forward to the next time we talk, feel free to tell me more about your home. It seems only fair with the history I’ve dumped on you.

- Ember Parca

[leiawritesstories]

Too Early For This

Nessian Week, day 7: free day!

Had a random middle-of-the-night insomnia image of Drunk Cassian, Drunk Fenrys, and the IC and this is what the writer bug decided to put out. 

Warnings: Language, alcohol, implied sexy action. Enjoy!

1089 words

@nessianweek

~~~~

“You know, sweetheart, at one point or another, you really are going to have to admit you can’t focus on that boring-ass paper and come have a drink or three,” crooned a familiar, distinctly tipsy voice. 

Without even looking up from her typing, Nesta raised a finger in Cassian’s direction. She heard her sister’s cackle and sighed. How long had she been sitting in Elain’s living room, trying without success to finish her most recent opinion? As if being a law student wasn’t enough work, she had to go and have siblings who invited a whole passel of heavy drinkers over on Friday nights. It’s bloody impossible to write anything at Elain’s house. Note to self: No more coming to Lain’s when you have an op due next class. Checking the clock in the bottom corner of her screen, she blinked. Only 10 pm? And everyone in the house was…drinking. Classic. Just then, Elain came waltzing into the living room. 

“Nestaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Why’re you try’na do work?” she slurred. Azriel, one step behind, rolled his whiskey-bright eyes at Nesta, catching his fiancé as she stumbled. 

“Which one of you idiots got my sister wasted?” called Nesta, finally accepting the futility of her attempted homework time. As she saved the file and closed down her laptop, Fenrys stuck his head out of the kitchen and waved his bourbon bottle. 

“That would be me, Archeron!” he sang, clearly pleased with his success. And clearly having had more than a few, himself, given the half-empty bottle in his hand. And the tequila bottle in his other hand. 

Nesta’s eyes rolled. “Of course, Moonbeam. You’re literally the only person here who can manage to sneak liquor past anyone and everyone.” “All I did was refill her cup. With”—he checked the bottle in his hand— “bourbon, apparently.” He giggled. “Lainy didn’t even realize her cup had been almost-empty five times.” “FIVE?! Dammit, Fen, you know she’s a lightweight!”

“I am notta ligh’weight,” grumbled Elain from the couch.

“No, love, you’re not,” Azriel reassured her, “you just need to pay more attention to your drink, especially when Fenrys has unbridled access to the liquor.” Fen’s barked laugh echoed from the kitchen. “Speaking of liquor, you really should go have a drink, Nesta. You and I both know that our favorite idiot won’t shut up unless you have at least one shot.” He smirked. “And you know very well what he does when he’s drunk and you’re not.” 

Nesta groaned. “Yes, I do know. And this, dear brother, is why I tend to be the designated driver. Someone has to haul his drunk, loudly singing ass home and get him to bed before he becomes a public nuisance.” She slipped her computer into her shoulder bag, took Elain’s cup—“This won’t be returned”—and headed for the kitchen. 

Where she was immediately met with Cassian’s maniacal grin and a shot glass of vodka, courtesy of Fenrys. 

“Remind me again why, exactly, we invited you?” smirked Nesta as she tossed back the shot. 

Fenrys stepped back, a ridiculously affronted look on his drunken face. “Because, Nesta Archeron, I aM the LIFE OF THE PARTYYYYYYYYY!!!!!” he all but howled. 

“Looks like bedtime,” drawled a voice from behind Nesta. She turned and met a pair of sharp, glinting dark eyes. Elide saluted with her cup, drained whatever remained in it, and yelled, “Lor! We need to get Fen back home before he passes out on Elain’s floor again!” 

Lorcan tromped into the room a moment later, swiping the bottles, now eighty-percent empty, from Fenrys, who was barely conscious enough to register that his alcohol was gone, and draped his friend’s arm around his broad shoulders. Fenrys promptly tripped over his feet, nearly bringing Lorcan down with him. Lorcan sighed, shoved his friend upright, and headed for the door. Calling his thanks to Elain and Az, he, Fenrys, and Elide went out the front door and drove home. 

Nesta sighed in some semblance of relief. “With those idiots gone, maybe now I can get some writing done,” she muttered. Not quietly enough, apparently. 

“Uh-uh, sweetheart. Nope. No more work. You never have any fun.”

“And who, exactly, are you to tell me I don’t have fun?”

Cassian wiggled his brows. “Oh you have fun, all right, just not when the family’s around.” 

“CASSIAN!” Nesta felt her face turning crimson. 

“I’m not wrooooooooooong,” sang her boyfriend, slinging his arm around her. 

Nesta huffed out a breath. “You’re also not being appropriate. Cassian, we’re literally standing in the kitchen. Anyone could hear.”

“Anyone is currently either drunk, taking his wasted fiancée to bed, or noisily making out in the dining room.” 

The sounds coming from the dining room abruptly stopped, followed by “Godsdammit, Cass!”

Cassian cackled. “Get a room, you two! Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you have the right to obnoxiously slobber all over each other in public places.”

Feyre stepped around the partition, fixing her shirt. “Don’t act like you haven’t done your fair share of ‘obnoxious slobbering,’ you big drunk idiot.” 

Cassian’s smirk was positively wicked. “At least I haven’t been caught giving my significant other a hickey in the library study rooms.” 

Feyre turned scarlet. “Cassian Patrick Ilnair, I swear to all the gods—” Rhys placed a finger over her mouth, shutting off the likely tirade. 

“Mind the family, Feyre darling.”

“Right. The family. Who are currently trying and failing to mask the aftereffects of all that bourbon.”

The kitchen went silent. Down the hallway, Elain’s quiet but distinct voice sounded. And not in verbal form. 

Nesta snickered. “Well. As much fun as this must have been, I have an opinion I need to finish and a needy boyfriend who’s going to damn everything to hell and jump my bones right here if he doesn’t get home and to sleep within twenty minutes. So. I’d best be going.” With that, she put the loose bottles of liquor back into Elain and Az’s cabinet, grabbed her shoulder bag and her boyfriend, and headed out the door.

Cassian half-staggered after her; unable to get himself into Nesta’s car, he just stood by the open car door and started singing. Loudly. Off-key. Nesta sighed heavily, walked to the passenger side, shoved him into the seat, and strapped on his seatbelt. 

“Come on, Cass, we’re going home.”

“Home………..I wanna go hooooooooome. Take me home, Nesh,” he slurred, and then flopped his head back against the headrest, out cold. 

At least he wouldn’t be a singing nuisance on the drive home.

[abiteofnat]

If you’re reading this, I’m coming back to Chicago, beetch

The non-existent rumors are true. After a brief 10-month exit from the city to soak up the fresh air and social distance-friendly suburbs, I am now returning to Chicago as a single, slightly more anxious version of myself. While I’m still trying to kick some of the anxiety and OCD that COVID-19 pushed from “lifelong tagalongs” to “all-controlling demons”, I feel 97% ready to be back where I feel most myself, and cannot wait to welcome that change. While that 3% still makes me a little uncomfy and hesitant, I’m a believer in pushing your boundaries to allow yourself to grow, and also, I am really sick of suburbs food. 

Ha! I joke. I wouldn’t move downtown simply for access to more diverse & higher quality food... or would I? All I know is while there are plenty of gems in the North Shore, I’ve eaten take out from all of them ten times over, and I did not foster my dislike of cooking out of nowhere. My parents do not enjoy cooking, my sister pretends to enjoy cooking, and I will cook if it is 5 ingredients or less. My latest speciality is a toasted bagel with butter, hummus, and EBTB seasoning. Voila. So when it comes to dinner, we are living off of a carousel of suburban favorites, and are losing steam as we are still not comfortable with dining inside (or dining inside in the city, where the fun food is). 

All of this to say, it’s exciting to imagine what life is going to be like in a few short weeks. While I’m still extra precautionary, I can’t wait to have my own space downtown, where I can enjoy coffee on my little balcony (!!!) and dream of the days friends can come squeeze into my studio safely while I lay out an entire table of sharable spreads and snacks from Ema (Charred Eggplant Spread is the best one, don’t fight me). 

So you may ask, how did you come to this decision to move to the heart of downtown out of seemingly nowhere, you hermit? 

It starts with my mom and I having a brief, simultaneous breakdown and coming to the conclusion that we would both feel comfortable doing a staycation downtown, as long as we wore masks, sanitized always, and braved the cold to eat outside. This was big for me! As a person with real OCD, not cute TV show “I have to keep my pens straight” OCD, this would be the most exposure I’d had to a lot of uncontrollable variables since the pandemic started. If you’re thinking, “you get to spend a weekend downtown in a hotel with your mom, shut up”, know that I hear you. I am unbelievably grateful that I’ve gotten this time with my parents, and that we can do a staycation. However, having anxiety comes at a cost, and that cost is blowing everything way the fuck out of proportion instead of being able to rationalize it sometimes. Let’s! Normalize! Having! This! Discussion!

So, we went downtown in early March for a two-night stay, and oh my goodness. The realization that we got to be in a different space, and do different things, and eat different food for a weekend made it feel like a legit vacation, and not like we drove 30 minutes to get there. The view from our room was of Michigan Ave, and hearing the traffic and seeing the people out and about instantly made me feel a sense of peace I wasn’t expecting. I’ve lived downtown for 6 years, but it always shocks me how much the city feels like an extension of me once I’m in it after being away. My mom and I went out for a walk (gentle yet forceful reminder to please wear a mask), then decided to grab dinner while we were out. The plan was to bring it back to the room, but there was a warm spell, and there just happened to be a table for two at Topolobampo on Clark, and suddenly we were sitting on the patio under the lights eating masa quesadillas dipped in a spicy salsa verde. It just happened!!! 

Before getting downtown, I was tentatively looking at apartments for the spring. I was looking at Lincoln Park, Old Town, maybe Lakeview, and came across a listing in the Gold Cost that caught my eye. That one was swiped out from under me within days, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the area. Then I discovered another unit that was available, and couldn’t shake it from my mind. Over mushroom tacos I discussed it with my mom, and we decided to go see it. Totally not what I had been planning for in terms of location, but why not? 

Once we polished off breakfast the next morning (Eggs Benedict with fried eggs, extra hollandaise) we headed out to see the place. Let me say I have never seen my mom fall in love with a single apartment I’ve lived in, and she was ALL. FOR. IT. Unreal reaction on her part. Once I saw the west-facing views and the incredible natural lighting, I was 100% in as well.

We spent the rest of the weekend wandering the downtown area, enjoying another dinner outside at The Gwen and my mom’s first visit to the Starbucks Reserve Roastery, which was 95% more empty than I’ve ever seen it given we went in a pandemic at 8:30PM. Shit on Starbucks all you want, but that Roastery is an incredible use of space (in non-pandemic times) and the coffee & Princi pastries are really, really good. 

When we got back home feeling refreshed and like we had actually gone on a vacation, I jumped into apartment shark mode real fast and signed as many documents as the very kind realtor could send over. One week later, whabaam, I was a Gold Coast girl. Ahem, *lady*. What better way to celebrate than going to Somerset and having the Rapini & Roasted Garlic Flatbread and Wild Mushroom Risotto? No clue. As I sat outside, yet again with my mom, I felt a wave of excitement come over me and realized, this is it. This is the sign and feeling I’ve been waiting for, telling me it’s time to move back to the city and start over. The creamy, herbacious risotto also helped solidify that. 

SO. After all of that, the news is I’m moving, and you’re probably wondering why I shared all of this on a blog about food. I meant for this post to be about everywhere I ate during my staycation, but realized quickly we ate at some very basic places - DELICIOUS, but still basic. Oops. Below are all the dishes I had and a rundown of the flavors, textures, etc., however don’t expect to find any new, revolutionary restaurants. Sorry! 

1. Topolobampo 

This Rick Bayless restaurant has been around forever, and unfortunately, you can tell by the interior. We’ve eaten here as a family a couple of times before, but never had a noteworthy experience. I can confirm that in a pinch, the patio covered in fun lights & mini piñatas, and the sharable, filling bites will do just fine. This was my first time going to a Mexican restaurant as a non-alcohol drinker, and instead of my typical mezcal margarita, I opted for a Fresh Limeaide which was refreshing and flavorful. We split the Guacamole and Chips, which if you’ve ever stopped at the Frontera in O’Hare, you know is good as fuck. It’s smooth, creamy, tangy, and topped with chopped onions and cilantro for a little crunch. It’s not the most life-changing, but it is consistently satisfying. Next, we got the Mushroom Tacos and Masa Quesadillas. The Masa Quesadillas were a fun surprise, as instead of a tortilla, the masa is what makes up the outside. They are almost like empanadas and stuffed with gooey, melty cheese, and come with a spicy salsa verde on the side. I would come back for these alone - they’re rich yet light, warm, and comforting, all the things you would want when dining outside when it’s still a little chilly. The Mushroom Tacos were quite frankly unreal, because whatever they seasoned the mushroom slices with and grilled them on made them taste unlike any mushroom I’ve had before. There was definitely some meat crossover on the grill, so don’t order those if you’re vegan, or ask them to prepare the mushroom separately. I however was LOSING MY MIND. Over mushrooms. The joys of being vegetarian! 

2. The Gwen

On a happening Saturday night in Chicago, Upstairs at The Gwen is sure to be a packed scene. Located in River North, this hotel bar/restaurant offers a somehow cozy rooftop filled with loungey couches, fire pits, and ambient lighting, even though you’re surrounded by apartments and skyscrapers and there is nothing “cozy” about River North. Every table was filled, yet since you’re outside and it’s fairy spread apart, it still felt safe. I got my new classic, a Lemonade, and we got the Burrata to start. With sourdough, roasted beets, squash, pomegranate, pistachio, & arugula, this plate was nothing short of mouth-watering. It has textures! It has flavors! It has pomegranate seeds, the TikTok must have of the moment! The bread was 10/10, the burrata was 8/10, and all of the toppings made for a very find bite of salad on their own. For my main I got the Lobster Fettucine, a beautiful bowl of “charcoal fettuccine with saffron-tomato sauce, lobster, calabrian chili butter, and basil-brioche crumbs” as listed on their website. Take any of those ingredients and it’s going to be delicious, but all of them TOGETHER? INCREDIBLE. The chunks of lobster were huge, absolutely making the dish worth its price tag, and the sauce was flavorful, unique, and unlike any sauce I’ve tasted in the last few years. It’s typical to do a squid ink pasta with seafood and tomato sauce, but the saffron added a new element I very much appreciated. 

3. The Starbucks Roastery 

I KNOW. THIS IS A TOURIST DESTINATION. All I am saying is if there’s no line, go get an iced latte with two packets of sugar in the raw. That’s all. It’s really good after something like, I don’t know, Lobster Fettucine. 

4. The Penninsula 

You cannot go wrong with hitting up The Penninsula for breakfast or brunch, especially if you are staying there and have the option to do room service. Typically we would go to Pierrot Gourmet, the cafe in the ground floor of The Penninsula, however it has been closed temporarily. If there’s one thing to order with your breakfast, it’s the smashed fingerling potatoes. Delish. 

5. Somerset 

Somerset is becoming a quick go-to of mine for an impromptu dinner downtown, given it’s in the heart of Gold Coast and is cute if you’re sitting indoors or outdoors. The food is nothing too innovative, but it is done well, which is the most important part with “cuter” restaurants that may focus on the Instagram appeal over the food sometimes. Each time I’ve gone I’ve gotten the seasonal flatbread and a pasta or risotto, usually something with mushrooms, and it’s always been plate-licking good. To drink, I got -you guessed it- a Lemonade! For dinner I went with the Wild Mushroom Risotto which was everything you could hope for in a risotto, topped with olive oil, herbs, and local parmesan. We split the Rapini & Roasted Garlic Flatbread which was as it sounds, flatbread covered in rapini, garlic, and ricotta, which added a nice crunch and had enough rapini to feel like it was replacing a boring vegetable side dish or salad. The patio vibes were wonderful, the judgemental girls in the greenhouses looked like they were having a good time, and our waiter couldn’t have been sweeter. I will be going back to try the Fontina Arancini, which I just noticed on the menu. FRICK. 

So there you have it, a very long-winded explanation of the last few weeks of my life and where you can find me on a staycation in Chicago. Hopefully once I move back to the city I’ll have endless new spots to try and won’t be basic anymore! 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie 

[feuillytheflorist]

the tomgreg coffee shop au i gave up on

i had good intentions but i’ll never finish this so i’m sharing it here. the unfinished coffee shop au that runs parallel to early season one where greg works at a fancy coffee shop instead of waystar (@@van1lla-v1lla1n & anybody else feel free to take any of this and put it in ur own shit! or pretend u never saw it)

The coffee shop downtown was full of uptight business men and women.

They came off Wall Street, out of the offices downtown and in the Financial District, and ordered either black coffee or fancy lattes and espressos-- it was a tossup, usually, Greg had found, though he and his co workers kept a running tab in the back of the orders.

(Greg didn’t know why they couldn’t make black coffee in their offices, but he supposed if you made a lot of money, five bucks for a large coffee didn’t matter.)

Most of them ordered while on the phone. One time a stern looking woman in a grey suit had been firing someone while she ordered a peppermint tea, a combination Greg laughed about afterwards.

He supposed it was good that they weren’t a chain cafe. Those places probably got the <i>really</i> angry people, who threw coffee back at you if it was wrong. The worst that had ever happened on one of Greg’s shifts was a middle aged man had taken a sip of his drink, made direct eye contact with Greg, and said it was the wrong drink, only for Greg to confirm that it wasn’t even his in the first place.

But hey, he wasn’t complaining. The place paid well enough, he got free coffee on his days off, and during the working hours, the clientele was mostly tourists and families.

Greg liked it most when the kids came in and he always somehow managed to have a screwed up cookie or some other snack that they were just going to throw away anyway. It made the kids smile, and the particularly hassled parents were usually thankful.

It was a break from the suits anyway.

Greg knew the regulars easily. He worked almost the same hours every week. Knew that the CFO of that accounting firm three blocks away was a tall blonde woman named Samantha who ordered an Americano every time unless she was especially stressed, because then she ordered tea and heaped sugar into it. One of the big name traders-- Greg didn’t know much else, was an older man named Matthew who was the only one who orderer hot chocolate all year round.

This man was new.

In general, it was fun to point out the customers you thought were attractive. He was sure it was a common occurrence, across countless coffee shops, in countless cities worldwide. Dani, the college student who worked Thursday morning with Greg thought that the daughter who sometimes came in with her banker father was cute, while Thomas, Greg’s Monday afternoon co worker had a thing for the red haired girl who studied there Monday mornings.

“So,” Dani leaned against the counter while Greg made the new man’s drink-- Tom, was the name he had given, and the name that was turning around in his head, “Are like, white collar forty year olds your type?”

“What?” She smiled, and twisted a braid around her finger, “Mr. Wall Street over there, in the fucking suspenders.” “Oh,” Greg frowned and topped off the latte. He wouldn’t have pinned Tom as a latte drinker, and he wondered if this was a regular drink for him, “What?”

She rolled her eyes, “He’s hot I guess, in a Dad kind of way.” “Hated that a little bit,” he put the lid on the cup, and returned to the counter. Tom looked up from his phone, where he’d been furiously texting for the past several minutes, “Here you go.” “Thanks,” he took the cup and then took a sip. Greg noticed this was common. They always took a sip before leaving the counter. Greg was <i>pretty</i> sure it was so they’d have easy access back in case it was wrong. Rich people were always eager to find something to complain about,

Greg smiled-- customer service smile, as Thomas called it, “you’re welcome. Come back soon.” Tom smiled back, a tight smile that people always gave them in response. He heard Dani laugh behind him, and when he turned she was looking at him, arms crossed. “Pathetic. Are you going to sleep with him?” “<i>What?</i>”

She laughed again, and returned to the register. Greg shrugged, and returned to the back, where he was supposed to be taking stock before the lunchtime rush really started.

In general, dating was off the table. Greg’s life was way too precarious to think about letting another person in to it, and besides, fantasizing about a customer you saw once and would possibly never see again was a fun thing to do occasionally, but was a waste of time. And <i>sure</i> he had thought Tom was attractive, but he thought plenty of people were attractive, this one was just obvious to Dani who happened to be watching him. It’d be fun to think about him when he walked in, but in general, unrealistic.

Greg put the thoughts of Tom the executive at the unknown location out of his mind, and focused on not losing track of his counting.

***

Evidently lattes were Tom’s thing because that’s what he stuck with whenever he came in.

“Suspenders is here for you,” Dani said, a week later, “He says you’re the only one that can make his fucking coffee. You better take care of this before I flip.” “Oh,” Greg frowned, “Uh, sure. You want to finish this order.” She nodded, “Anything to get away from him. He’s fucking annoying.” Greg shrugged, and went out front, where Tom was waiting at the cash register. Thankfully there wasn’t a line behind him that he was holding up-- people did that all the time and Greg was pretty sure it was eventually going to cause a riot.

“There you are, talented Mr. Greg,” he smiled, “You know I came here on Friday and you were absent? My latte was not as good.” “Oh yeah I’m off on Fridays,” Greg said, typing in the order. He didn’t bother waiting for Tom to actually tell him. He’d memorized it at this point, “Would you like anything else?” Tom shook his head, “No.”

“Four fifty,” Greg said, more out of habit than anything else, and Tom handed over his card. That was something else white collar people always did. Put everything on their card. Greg had only recently been allowed to use his card again, after it had been overdrawn for… several months, “It’ll be ready in five or so.” “I know,” Tom smiled tightly, “I’ve been up all fucking night. How much caffeine is in lattes, do you know?”

“Uh no,” Greg reached for a cup, “But like, if you want, I can add an extra shot of espresso. On the house.” “Would you?” “Sure,” Greg smiled, “You look pretty tired.” “My uh, future father in law is ill,” he said, “It’s been kind of a hectic time. I only just started a new job in addition to that.” “Oh I’m sorry to hear that, about your father in law,” Greg said. He felt a jab of <i>something</i> at the mention of a father in law, but shoved it away. It was unsurprising, and he had no Goddamn right to be anything about it. But it was like when you found out a celebrity you had a crush on was engaged. There hadn’t been any hope to begin with, but the part of you that liked to dream big was still upset at the loss, “I hope he gets better soon.”

“Thanks,” Tom smiled tightly, and the conversation fell quiet. Greg went to make the drink. Tom returned to his phone.

***

“I’m going to need the biggest size you’ve got,” Tom said, before Greg could even open his mouth to ask how his morning was going, “I’m in deep, deep shit.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” Greg replied. He didn’t understand the world of economics and business very well, but that couldn’t be very good regardless. He was pretty sure Tom worked in an office, not on Wall Street, but he still didn’t know what company he worked for. Tom kept his personal information vague and infrequent.

“Yeah,” Tom ran a hand over his face, “Yeah.”

“Like, do you know what you’re gonna do?” Greg asked, ringing up the order.

“Not a fucking clue,” Tom frowned, “It’s bad.”

“Is your father in law feeling better?” Greg asked. He knew it was risky topic. Maybe the man had fucking died, and it would just make things worse.

“Uh huh,” Tom said absentmindedly.

“Yeah my great uncle was sick for a little bit,” Greg said. His mother had called to tell him such, but he’d already seen the news, “But like, we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” Tom squinted at him, like he was trying to figure out why, exactly, Greg had said that. And in reality, Greg wasn’t sure why. Sometimes he just said things.

“Right,” Tom said, “Coffee?” “Oh sorry. One second.”

*** “You finally came out for drinks!” Thomas exclaimed when Greg slinked over to the bar. Greg liked Thomas because he didn’t put up with shit from any of the customers. He was in law school uptown, and came from California originally and Greg thought he was nice, if a little intense. That was probably the lawyer side of him.

“Yeah I finally paid off my credit card debt so,” Greg shouted back. It was a loud bar, the floor was a little sticky under his feet, and he felt exceptionally large all of the sudden, the crowd pressing against him from almost every direction.

Dani laughed, and slapped his shoulder, “Greg’s just sad because his executive boyfriend is getting married.” “What?” Henrietta, Dani’s roommate who worked at the diner a block away from the coffee shop called back, “Greg you have an executive boyfriend?” “No like,” he shook his head. It was too hard to hear in here, and he knew Dani was just joking, but he didn’t want that kind of false information getting out, “He’s a regular at the shop. Dani thinks I think he’s hot.” “He is kind of hot,” Thomas said, “I mean, objectively.” “He’s engaged,” Dani explained, shaking her head dramatically, “It’s not meant to be.” “You could be his mistress,” Thomas offered. The bartender brought over drinks and Greg took whatever they’d ordered for him, “I bet rich people treat their mistresses, like, really well.” “Mm,” Dani nodded, “I bet so.” “Yeah maybe,” he took a long sip. It burned a little, but anything to get out of talking about this.”

*** On Saturdays, Greg didn’t work until the afternoon. A cursory glance at Twitter the next morning told him two things.

The first was that Tom worked for Waystar, his Uncle Logan’s company. He knew all about Waystar because his grandfather hated it with the passion of a thousand suns-- that’s how Greg saw it anyway. He knew this because several articles had been published about the RECNY Ball, which Tom attended with his fiancée, Shiv.

That was the second thing Greg found out. Tom was engaged to his cousin. They weren’t first cousins. Greg wasn’t much into genealogy, but it was like a cousin removed or something. They’d never been close growing up. His mother kept them on the Christmas card list, but Greg hadn’t seen any of the Roys in several years. Even when he’d come to New York City, they ran in such different social circles that they hadn’t seen each other.

Much to his mother’s disappointment. She still thought he’d somehow be able to secure a job at Waystar with his half Roy bloodline, but he’d hardly had the opportunity.

And now there was this. It was really six degrees of fucking seperation wasn’t it?

***

Greg drove up to Canada for Thanksgiving. His Grandfather had agreed to go to Logan’s for the holiday. Much to everyone’s surprise, Greg was sure. His mother had informed him Marcia said he could go. Greg thought that was bound to be a fun revelation for all involved.

“Cousin uh, Craig,” Logan had said, motioning vaguely to Greg standing next to his Grandfather. Ewan frowned.

“It’s <i>Greg</i> isn’t it?” Shiv said, “Cousin Greg?” “Uh yeah,” Greg replied. A cursory glance said Tom wasn’t there, not yet at least. He wondered where he was, then decided he shouldn’t be wondering it.

“We’re glad to have you,” Marcia-- actually he assumed it was Marcia, they’d never met-- said. Her accent was French maybe, he thought, “Both of you.”

“Well no shit,” Tom said, when he arrived, an hour or so later, “Cousin Greg is my barista.” “Really?” Shiv said, looking between the two of them, “Greg’s the one that makes you those lattes?” “Small fucking world,” Tom smiled, and clapped Greg on the shoulder, “Family huh?”

“Ha yeah.”

***

There was a week Tom didn’t show up at all. Dani called him Romeo and lamented over a love that was never meant to be. Greg laughed, told her she didn’t know the half of it.

[probably-writing-x]

Out of love (Part 1)

Guzmán x Reader

Not my gif

Let me know if you’d want to see Part 2

Summary - Guzmán has faced a lot over the past year, and you’d always been by his side through it all. It was a given. But there’s only so far that will stretch when he doesn’t reciprocate. How far will you go before you drain yourself of energy and give up on the one boy you’ve ever truly loved?

- - - - - -

Falling in love with someone was a much easier process than falling out of love with them. Nobody spoke about that part of it enough. You’d see people cry, pick themselves up and just somehow manage to be okay. But there was never enough about the struggle to release that tug on your heart, to pull it back to your chest instead of yearning to be with theirs. That’s exactly how it would be with you and Guzmán.

- - - - - -

“Do you have the homework from Chemistry?” You ask Guzmán as you wait beside his locker, watching him take out the book he’d need for first period.

“Yeah, here,” He sifts through the rest of his locker and hands a sheet to you absently, “How come you didn’t do it?”

“I-“ You pause, “Just couldn’t really focus.”

He eyes you suspiciously but shrugs anyway, “I think everyone’s feeling a bit like that at the minute.”

You nod but part of you had hoped for a little sympathy from your boyfriend at that. He knew what you were going through at home, and watching your brother deal with chemo was one of the worst experiences of your life, second to losing your best friend when Marina died. Ander was a best friend to you too, you were the sort of siblings that never argued and made everyone else think you were crazy for doing so - but you always knew you had each other and that made any argument generally seem pretty futile. Especially now.

“Are you listening?” Guzmán snaps you from your daze, now standing in front of you as he talks.

“Sorry, just thinking about-“

“Guzmán, I need to talk to you,” It’s Samuel that interrupts, a look of fear on his face as he tries to give you a half-sympathetic smile.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even question it, he goes instantly. And you’re stood alone in the corridor, the concept of priorities dawning over you. You were never going to be his.

“Ready to go to class, (Y/n)?” Nadia suggests, coming up beside you, “How are you doing?”

You start walking with her, “I’m okay, it’s not easy but we just need to be there for Ander.”

“Of course, and if my brother starts being a nuisance - I apologise.”

Just like that, it all falls into normality and the comfort of having someone eradicates the upset of missing Guzmán. Although it doesn’t last long.

- - - - - -

In the afternoon, you make your way to the hospital to meet Ander and Omar for his next round of chemo. All you’d had was a short text from Guzmán saying he’d meet you there, nothing else all day.

“Omar, I’m sure you pick the worst music every single time it’s your turn,” You roll your eyes as he plays another song in the earphones that him and Ander shared, “I can tell by Ander’s face!”

Normally, you didn’t feel awkward when the two of them were together because you normally had Guzmán with you and the four of you just relaxed into your respective couples. Today, Guzmán was late.

“Okay, okay, what about this one?” Omar suggests, flicking onto the next song hopefully.

Ander eyes you, “You okay (Y/N)?”

You glance at your brother and see so much of how he has changed. His hair was still curly on his head but you knew that wouldn’t last. He looked paler and his eyes always more tired, he looked weaker and his smile didn’t seem to spread as far anymore.

You clear your throat, “Yeah, I’m just going to grab some drinks - does anybody want anything?”

They both say no and you make your exit quickly, trying to stop yourself from crying at the sight of your brother and his boyfriend. You never cried.

“Hey,” Guzmán stops when he sees you, “Still down there?”

“Yeah, normal place,” You gesture in the direction you had come from, “How come you’re late?”

“I just had some...” He pauses, “Stuff to sort out with Samu.”

It’s instinct when you nod like you understand, “Is it okay if you stay over tonight?”

“I always stay over.”

He says it bluntly but you hope he means well. And it’s true. Every night after you’d been to chemo with Ander, Guzmán slept round yours as a way of comforting you. It’s the one pocket of him you still felt like you held.

- - - - - -

It’s too late to be awake when you find yourself still staring at the ceiling above you. Your arm is tucked underneath your head and youre trying your best to think of anything other than... this.

Guzmán is sleeping soundly beside you, soft snores coming from his direction every few minutes. It should be a sound that would make you cuddle up next to him and do the same. But you didn’t want to disturb him.

With that boy laying next to you, you’d never felt lonelier. It might be selfish to say but you didn’t lie. You still had your brother and your family but there were complications there that were beyond what you could help. And Guzmán - had you become boring to him?

Before you can spiral any further, Guzmán groans beside you as his eyes flutter open slowly.

“You’re still awake?” He frowns, “What time is it?”

His voice is groggy and you can tell he doesn’t want to open his eyes too far at fear of losing the comfort of his slumber.

“I don’t know,” You reply quietly, glancing up at the darkness that spilled through the skylight window above you, “Late.”

“It’s cold,” He mumbles, reaching out an arm and tugging you toward him.

Just like that, he’s holding you like you’re still a normal couple and you wish you could’ve just asked him and felt like he’d have laughed and pulled you to his chest without question. But part of you thought that would be a helpless way of covering these wounds. So, you inevitably force yourself to sleep just as he had. It doesn’t take long for his arms to loosen their grip around you.

- - - - - -

When you wake the next morning, it’s after a very disturbed and broken sleep. Ander is sat at the table in the kitchen and you join him with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Sleep well?” He glances up, “I don’t think I need an answer.”

You hit at his arm and roll your eyes, “Well, thanks.”

He chuckles a little and winces at the hot liquid of his drink.

“Ander, can I ask you something?” You ask him cautiously but you know you don’t need a response to continue, “Have you noticed anything different between me and Guzmán recently?”

He frowns, “I don’t know, I guess you’ve both been dealing with a lot. But I don’t know, why?”

You take in a deep breath, “I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

Ander scoffs and shakes his head, “You’re serious?”

“I don’t know,” You respond, “It’s like I’m never really sure what to say to him anymore because I don’t want to burden him. Like there’s nothing I can say to make anything that he’s going through become any easier.”

“(Y/n),” Ander squeezes your hand, “You do realise you’re going through things too. This,” He gestures to himself, “You lost your best friend, you’re trying to keep up with school on top of that... it’s hard for you!”

“I sound so self involved.”

“You sound like you care about yourself and that’s not a bad thing, ever,” Ander encourages, “Talk to him, it’s Guzmán!”

“And tell him that I want him to love me again?”

“He never stopped.”

You want to believe your brother, of course you do. But it felt like there was nothing you could say that would change how Guzmán was acting.

“Hey,” His voice is familiar but you don’t want to hear it as Guzmán pokes his head around the door of the kitchen.

“Hey man,” Ander begins, “What do you fancy for breakfast?”

“I’m not staying,” Guzmán shakes his head, “I have somewhere to be.”

He’s not addressed you once. You could shrink into the ground and there was no way of changing his mind that you weren’t a priority - not now.

When he leaves is when Ander turns to you like the other half of the puzzle has clicked into place, “(Y/n)...”

“I’m going to get ready.”

You fight back the tears that threaten to spill as you’re walking toward the stairs, though there’s nobody to watch them fall. You could easily break down right here, cry until Ander comforted you enough to stop it or until Guzmán came back through that door and realised he’d forgot to kiss you before he left, forgot to tell you he loved you. But that wouldn’t happen and so, as always, you convince yourself that tears are futile and you pull them back in. As always.

- - - - - -

It’s another week that passes until you’ve practically given up on Guzmán. Not completely. Just figuratively. He’d been dipping in and out of school all week, he missed Ander’s appointment, he’d not even mentioned the party tonight and, for once, you didn’t care. You’d go anyway. You’d keep a drink in your hand, stay with your friends, let the lights go dim and forget that you weren’t loved by the one you loved.

It’s the typical story of a break up isn’t it? The girl realises her worth and the boy realises what he’s missing. Maybe that’s not what you wanted. You wanted him to see what he had. You wanted him to see the girl in front of him that was breaking at the prospect of her life and she needed him to be there to hold her waist and force those pieces of her to stay together.

And, just as you’d hoped, the club gives you that exact escape from it all. Everybody is there, nobody really caring about anyone other than free flowing champagne from overpriced bottles.

“(Y/n)!” Omar grins from behind the bar as you go up to order a drink, it always makes you slightly more comfortable when you see him working here, “The usual?”

“I’ll have a double please,” You call over the music.

His prominent brows raise as he laughs a little, “Dont tell your brother.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

That’s how you’d plan on getting through the night. You’d convince yourself that drink was a valued coping mechanism just for this one night. You were never much of a drinker. Although, it doesn’t seem that way when Guzmán turns up later.

“(Y/n)?!” He calls as he sees you.

You’re dancing in the middle of the floor with a half drunken champagne bottle in hand, somehow still managing to stay on your feet.

“What are you doing?” Guzmán exclaims when he walks over, checking you for any signs of damage.

“Enjoying myself, more than I have done in a while!” You laugh in his face and swirl around to the music.

“Come on babe, you never drink like this!”

“No, but you do,” You hiccup, stumbling as you face him, “Dance with me.”

“I’m not dancing with you, I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

“Come on, you’d dance with me if you loved me,” You tap at the lapel of the suit jacket he’s wearing, “Oh, shit, I forgot you didn’t love me anymore.”

His face drops. Had you really just accused him of that?

“(Y/n), you don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re going home,” Guzmán encourages, trying to grab hold of your arm.

“So now you fucking care about me?” You snap, “No, fuck this, Guzmán. I put up with enough of your shit.”

With that, you’re walking away from him and he’s hurrying through the crowd after you. It’s Ander that stops him.

“I’ll go, she doesn’t need to see you right now,” Your brother defends you, holding Guzmán back firmly.

“Are you kidding? I’m her boyfriend!” Guzmán retorts, trying to keep his eyes focused on you.

“Really?” Ander scoffs, “That’s not what it seems like.”

- - - - - -

Guzmán is pacing the floor of his own house as he waits to hear from you. The view outside is practically mocking him. He should be out there going to find you, wrap his arms around you and tell you he’d never stopped loving you. But the thirty missed calls and texts told him that wouldn’t be a good idea. His sleepless night meant that it was still early and he hoped you’d still be sleeping - even if he wanted to be beside you.

He near enough throws his phone when it starts to ring and it makes him jump away from his daze. And he has to blink a million times when he sees your face on the screen, accompanied by your name and a small crown emoji. Don’t fuck it up Guzmán.

“Hi Guzmán,” Your voice sounds so weak on the other end of the phone that it makes him stop dead in his tracks, “Are you okay?”

He’s surprised at himself when he smiles, “You want to ask about me?” He lets put a gentle, weak laugh, “Dont worry about me. Are you?”

“I’m fine, Ander made sure I got home safe, and got me through a lot of drunken emotions,” You explain, “I’ve realised I’m right to not drink much - I don’t like being drunk.”

He smiles but doesn’t respond, he’d rather hold onto every single word you were saying - let you carry the conversation.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you last night, that’s not how I wanted to have that kind of conversation,” You’re so calculated in your response that it kills him - it felt like you’d been drained of all emotion.

“No, come on, you were drunk- I just didn’t want you thinking that...”

“I meant what I said.”

His heart, his hope, his life, all feel like they crash harshly around him. They break down every piece of anything he’d built up. They take away every reason he has to get out of bed, every reason to feel loved. Just like that.

“I just need to know one thing, Guz,” You start but your voice is cracking now and he starts to realise that it’s the worst sound he could imagine, “When did you fall out of love with me?”

That was it. The words that would break him. The words that ripped away any opportunity he felt like he had at happiness. Losing you. That would be what would break it all.

“Was there something I could have done? More of, less of, anything?” You’re rambling a little but he wouldn’t dare interrupt, he wants to keep every piece of you he can, “I know it might not be worth knowing but I think I need to. Just that one question.”

His chest clenches and his head starts to throb and, just like that, there are tears pulling at his eyes and falling helplessly onto his freckles cheeks. You should be there to wipe them away. You should be there to tell him it was okay. No. He should be there to tell that to you.

“(Y/n),” He croaks out, an unwelcome sob following the word as he grips the phone with a weaker hold now, “Don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry Guzmán, I should go.”

His heart is screaming at him to say the right words.

“No, (Y/n), please!”

But the beep that comes through his phone screen tells him you’ve already gone. He keeps it pressed to his ear like you’ll be back in a split second. But it’s hopeless to think that you will be. Instead, he’s left with a thousand thoughts of everything he should’ve said to you, every time he should’ve told you how much he appreciated you. He thinks back to how many times he’s kissed you and how much more he should’ve been doing it, how he should’ve remembered every single detail of your body in bed and proven to you just how much he worshipped you. It was all of those feelings that he kept so internalised whilst he focused on everything else. Because you were always just there. And now you weren’t, the cliche of knowing what you’ve lost hits him like a ton of bricks.

[missivvy]

DRUNKEN PHONE CALL & CLUB THREAD - IVY X GUNNER

mentions: @gunnerhq this is so long, we apologise to whomever reads this entire thing but you won’t be disappointed. 

IVY: The girl held the phone to the ear as it rang. She waited 4 rings before he answered. She didn’t know why she was called him but she was drunk and needed to get her thoughts out. “Hello gun, how are you going tonight? Why did you decide to come back now? Why didn’t you come back sooner?” She slurred into the phone

GUNNER: His phone ringing wasn’t a big surprise, he had been getting calls from his family too often for his liking as of late. when he saw who it was, however, he was struck. that’s why it took him a few rings to pick up. His brows furrowing as he caught the slur of her words. “i’m… alright.” the last note came out barely audible as he was confused at her words, her questions. “i wanted to be in ana’s life. i… didn’t know how to come back sooner, i wasn’t ready. where are you? what’s goin’ on, ivy?”

IVY: ivy knew that ringing him was an extremely bad idea especially when she was drunk but right now she didn't care. he wanted answers from him. the girl smiled when he heard his voice. "well that's... good to hear" she said into the phone. it was so loud in the club so she was tucked away in a corner. "you should have just maned up and come back sooner. you could have just shown up like you did the other week. that seemed easy for you" she said slurring some more before taking a sip of her drink. "i'm out having fun. can't you tell. i'm trying to forget the male existence" she added

GUNNER: gunner was surprised enough at her call, her topics only added to that notion. “yeah,” he nodded as he spoke into the phone, his brows furrowing as her listened to her. “it was anything but easy. showing up to tell an ex you want to meet your child after running off before? total breeze, huh.” as he listened to the femme, he felt more concerned the more she slurred. it wasn’t even his place, but it was impossible to ignore. “kinda hard to forget the male existence talking to me,” he noted, before he let out an uncharacteristically soft sigh. “why’re you trying to forget the male existence?”

IVY: ivy rolled her eyes at the boy, she knew he couldn't see her but she did it anyway. "oh and you think it was easy raising ana on my own. total breeze" she said as she took yet another sip of her drink. she leant up against the wall as she was on the phone. she probably should hung out and not bother him and go back to dancing and having fun but she decided she needed to hear his voice some more. "that is very true. maybe i should just hang up. i dont know why i call" she said as she swayed a little, "oh haven't you heard? i thought you would have known about it by now" ivy said. "its been all over social media. i cant escape it" ivy said into the phone.

GUNNER: his teeth gritted together in a grimace, mix of acknowledgment that he deserved it and annoyance. “i didn’t ever say it easy for you either.” he let his head fall back onto the couch behind him, idly rubbing his temple. the mention of hanging up brought a nod she couldn’t see, even though he didn’t want the femme to do so. “maybe,” he conceded reluctantly, before his brows furrowed slightly. “i may have vaguely heard something but you might have to bring me back up to speed, vee.” gunner spoke. “i don’t pay enough attention to most news unless i have to.”

IVY: the girl took a final sip of her drink before she pushed it aside and swayed a little more. the alcohol from her last two drinks were slowly hitting her all at once. she was even more intoxicated then she was when she initiated this call. she knew she was just repeating herself from the last conversation that they had together. on her front porch but she didn't care. everything made sense to her. she needed to say this. 'gun, it wasn't easy. you would have loved her so much the minute you saw her" she said before shaking her head and hearing one of her favourite songs. "omg i love this song" she said laughing a little before continuing on with her conversation. "do you want me to hang up? are you busy?" ivy asked furrowing her eyebrows. the girl wish he just knew what had gone on and that she didn't have to explain it to him. "well, you see i was seeing this boy and i thought we were in love. turns out that was a joke. he ended up marrying another girl" she said. "fuck i need another drink"

GUNNER: there wasn’t anyone who could cut through his conscience the way ivy could, even now. it was a reminder of the guilt that lingered, his eyes shut at the impact of her words, though he wanted to pass it off as drunk conversation given the slurring and the loud background. “I didn’t think so. i…did. i didn’t see her in person but what i saw from just your posts, how could i not love her?” he could admit, to himself alone, that he spent the majority of the last few years trying to weigh between his options on coming back to see ana and how that was supposed to go after everything. it was a thought that weighed on his mind, but he fucked up his arrival back anyway. “what song’s playing?” her little laughs spiked his curiosity, though his brows furrowed at her question. “nah, not busy at all.” he lifted his head to look over the parenting books he had spent his week ingraining into his head as if that would help him with ana or the new baby. “ouch,” there were a million other thoughts that crossed his mind, none of which he could speak, but most prominent was the reality of wondering how anyone could leave ivy for another girl. “where are you?” he asked once again.

IVY: there wasn't enough booze in the world to make her forget the love she had for gunner. the way he use to make her feel and how happy she use to get while speaking to him on the phone. tonight's conversation brought back those memories. at all the people she decided to drunk dial it was him. for gods knows what reason that was. the girl had moved a little closer so she could hear the music and watch the crowd dance along to the song. she wasn't ready to hang up the phone yet. there would be plenty of other songs for her to dance too. she still had the entire night to dance. it made her heart skip a beat when the boy told her that he loved ana from just the instagram posts that she had put up. "you.. you.. kept tabs on us?" she asked clearing her throat a little. it wasn't what she expected. she wasn't ready for him to say that. ivy rang her hand through her hair. "Ghost, by Justin Bieber" she said smiling as the song played. it was one of her new favourite songs. "oh well that's good then" she said with a small laugh. it was late and by him not being busy meant he would be at home. next to her home. "yep. now you know why im trying to forget the male existence. you all hurt me" she said before listening to him again. "just a club downtown. don't worry im not driving. i've got a room"

GUNNER: it was always impossible to ignore ivy, so even if he buried his heart and built back his walls, he couldn’t complete leave her behind without some reassurance that she was okay. or at least, that she would be okay. he nodded his head despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. apart of him was certain she was itching towards hanging up, and he could understand the fact that his admittance wasn’t expected. he rubbed at his jaw as he spoke again. “yeah,” finding no words to elaborate on his answer. the male shifted his seat on the couch, deciding to sit up and look for his shoes while she spoke. “that is a good one,” he told her. “yeah, suppose it is good.” in comparison to what he could have been doing when she called, knowing he wouldn’t forget this conversation but if he had been out tonight he likely wouldn’t have been in the state to remember it. or perhaps he would, considering how easily the femme could sober him. even now, the verbal reminder of what he had visually immortalized in his mind cut deep. his grimaced. “yeah, well, men are stupid.” he deduced. “and I’m more worried over if you’re alone than thinking you’d be irresponsible enough to drive right now and if you’ll make it to your room safely.”

IVY: ivy swayed back and forth to the music shaking her head a little to get the strands of hair that were stuck to her back loose again. she was wearing one of her favourite dresses which showed off most of her features and was having a great time. she probably should have some water but she decided not yet as she still was on the phone with gunner. "you must have been a secret agent cause i didn't know" she said laughing at herself. laughing at the joke she had made. ivy wasn't a big drinker but when she did it was very amusing to bystanders. "it is hey, i think i've been listening to it on repeat" she said. it kind of related back to their relationship in a way but she wasn't going to bring that up. she couldn't stomach that. "so what are you doing if you aren't busy?" she asked as she stood up from the wall and slowly made her way over to the bar. she needed another drink. "men are stupid. very stupid." she said as she reached the bar and waited for her turn. while she waited she swayed her hips some more to the sound of the music. "i mean i'm not alone, there's a club full of people." she said smiling to herself and she looked around her. "well i'm glad you think im responsible" ivy said as she made her way to the front of the bar. "can i please order a shot of tequila and a lychee martini" she said before fumbling with her phone to get her card. "oop sorry. just had to pay for my drink. but im back now" ivy said before thanking the bartender and moving away from the bar and taking her shot. "man i love tequila"

GUNNER: it was hard to find her words amusing when all he could feel was a stirring sense of concern for the femme. he knew she wasn’t a big drinker, and that was one of the mounting reasons he was trying to figure out where she was at. “i’m very good with technology. pops would be so proud,” it was a feat to keep his annoyance with his father out of his tone, but his main focus was ivy. he hadn’t listened to the song too thoroughly, but the lyrics resonated enough. “repeat, huh? must really hold some meaning to ya.” he offered, unsure how true that statement was at all. clearing his throat, he looked down at his coffee table again. “just some reading, not exciting but any information helps with some things.” he spoke, shrugging his shoulders. he couldn’t help but let out a hollow half laugh, mostly for the reality in her statement. he couldn’t disagree. “i know,” he let out a sigh, hand brushing through his hair a moment later. “club full of strangers,” he felt the need to point out. “you usually are.” he added a moment later. he was momentarily panicked by the lack of her voice until she returned, though his expression soured with deepening concern. “vee, you should have someone with you. someone you know, and trust.” he knew that wasn’t him but he wanted to make sure she was safe.

IVY: "oh i'm sure he would be proud" she said rolling her eyes at the thought of his parents. he couldn't see her thankfully. they were the reason that gunner left her. left her along and pregnant. the girl pushed those thoughts aside. "gun its a real catchy song" she said smiling before tossing her hair behind her back as she waited for the bar. "oh reading, that's good of you. hope you are enjoying whatever you're reading" ivy said. not going too much into it. "yeah but i'm still not alone. im okay. im having fun. dancing, drinking" ivy said before speaking to the bartender. it wasn't long before she was back. ivy felt the burning sensation of the shot down her throat as she swayed along with the music, it was a more upbeat song now and its just what she needed. the girl took a sip of her lychee martini and it was delicious. "you know i am. dont need to worry" she said smiling to herself. "gun, i'm okay. there's plenty of people here. i made friends with the girls in the bathroom like i normally do. plus i just needed to let go. not worrying about anyone judging me for my actions." the girl said looking around. she knew that some people would judge her for going on this bender. for going out but its something she needed to do. she needed to let go and forget all the pain she was currently feeling. 

GUNNER: “goal accomplished,” he almost gagged on the words, his eyes rolling with the utterance. he didn’t want to ruminate on the topic of his parents, they always left a bitter taste in his mouth and served as a reminder of what he had done. “yeah, that too.” he agreed slightly absent, before a single sound of amusement escaped him at her words. “i appreciate that.” he focused back to his concerns with an ease, a sigh exhibited. “you can’t trust most people sober, drunk people dancing are even less trustworthy. fun is good until someone realizes you’re technically alone and something happens.” he was trying to reason, but he didn’t really have the right. she was a grown adult and his concerns were a selfish desire to make sure she was safe. when she mentioned not needing to worry, he shook his head. partially glad that she couldn’t see him, nobody could because he was in the comfort of his home. the concept of not worrying was impossible when he envisioned the femme drunk in a club without a friend. but as he let out a deep breath, he tried to be a little more understanding with ivy. “yeah, still not sure i like it,” he muttered, though he forced himself to relax at her next words. “who’s gonna judge you for a night out for once?” his brows furrowed, confused on that when there were plenty of people who did it.

IVY: Ivy knew that gunner hated bringing up his parents so part of her kept it short and sweet when he mentioned it not wanting to dig into anything deeper and the girl didn’t really care for them. “Yeah it is” she said laughing slightly going along with what he was saying. He loved how easily should could be addicted to a song and right now it was ghost and almost all the others songs that had played in the club so far. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, not a care in the world and that’s what ivy needed. That’s what she wanted. Nobody really knew her or that she thought. She hadn’t seen any familiar faces so far. “Well I hope you’re enjoying the book gun” she said smiling to herself as she took another sip of her drink. Ivy stopped for a minute once she heard the words leave his mouth. If only she could have seen him when he said it. The boy was concerned and ivy could tell that. Even in her drunken state she could tell that he was worried about her. Worries that she was on her own. It was hidden hills. Her home she was safe, it never crossed her mind that she wouldn’t be. Before she knew what she was saying she said it. “Well come down here then if you are that concerned for my well-being” ivy said taking another sip like she hadn’t just told her ex to come to the club where she was highly intoxicated. “Well it’s ain’t just gonna be just one night and you know I don’t drink and when I do I go a little outta control and I’m kinda aiming for that. I don’t want to feel anything” 

GUNNER: as a boy with the world at his fingers, it could look ungrateful with how he disregarded his parents but after everything it was a wonder he could still make snide comments about them at all. he nodded, an unsolicited smile perked up at the sound of her laugh before he tamped it down. “thanks, i hope you’re enjoying your drinks.” even if he found himself concerned about her company, he hoped that going out was going to be the reprieve she was in clear need of. perhaps he was just distrusting of most people, but it was difficult to ignore the instinctual urge to protect the femme. even after his own transgressions. it was bizarre, truly, but he couldn’t help it. his brows furrowing, he pulled back to stare at his phone in confusion at her demand. and the fact that she could tell. “and impede on your fun night out?” he quipped, mostly trying to find a reason for his own mind to realize he had no right. despite that, he was still already moving off the couch and grabbing his car keys from the coffee table. “no judgment, you wouldn’t be the first or the last to do so. but you really cared for this kid, huh?”

IVY: ivy continued to sway as she was on the phone to gunner. enjoying every minute of her night so far even talking to gunner. "oh they are very delicious. i'm having lychee martinis. game changer i tell you" she said laughing as she took another sip. the girl admired the people around her, smiling and waving at bystanders smiled and complimented her on her outfit. she was really feeling herself tonight and she was happy that other people noticed that too. it was too late for her to take back what she had said. she didn't really want him to come down but she always did. a part of her wanted him here. it was probably the alcohol talking. "well if it gives you peace of mind,. you can sit in the corner. you don't have to be right with me" she said knowing that wouldn't be the case if he arrived. the way she was tonight. she knew that her sister and best friends would probably ring her next for even calling him and suggesting he come down but she didn't care right now. "yeah i know. but its not like me" she said before taking another sip of her drink. "well lets just say he told me he loved me and then the next day ended it and married the other girl" ivy said sculling the rest of her martini at the thought of how everything went down.

GUNNER: he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped at ivy’s amusement with her drink. “so long as you’re enjoyin’ what you’re drinkin’, vee. sound like a damn good one.” he answered with a slight nod, despite knowing she couldn’t see him. he locked up his place and got into his car, knowing it probably wasn’t the best idea and it would only further antagonize the situation somehow. “sit in the corner? hm. maybe i will.” he could already envision it. he would have to fight tooth and nail to keep from invading his way into situations that didn’t concern him, though. he knew that. “you’re allowed to step outside the box every once in awhile. or as often as you like.” he spoke as he turned the ignition, knowing all too well the role of stepping out of the expected role he was given. “bastard,” gunner’s response was automatic, hand tightening on his steering wheel and his eyes rolling at the idea of anybody being stupid enough to do that to ivy. it wasn’t nearly as stupid as his own act, but the armani male couldn’t focus on that yet. “and you’re drinking about him? c’mon now. you could be movin on to the next. that’s the real revenge, ain’t it?”

IVY: the girl had now finished her drink and was craving another but she thought it was probably best to have a water. making sure that she stayed hydrated while drinking. "i am very much so. but i'm out so i gotta go get another" she said smiling before she headed over to the bar again. ivy couldn't help but laugh when he agreed to sit in the corner. "well that's totally up to you. just know i'm safe" she said before ordering another two martinis and a large glass of water before returning to her phone call. it had been going on forever now and she had missed talking to him for hours on the phone, she had missed him in general but she would never admit that to anyone. "i know but i've got responsibilities you know" ivy said before going back to where she was before taking a sip of her freshly made lychee martini. once she reached the table she heard the boy call damon a bastard. well she figured it was about him. the girl didn't disagree but she wasn't going to provoke gunner from doing anything knowing that he would. "not just because of him and i'm not just drinking, im dancing having fun" she said with a smile. "the nights still young gun. i've got plenty of time for that don't you worry" she said before actually realising what she said. they were exes but still its not a nice feeling knowing your ex is getting with someone else.

GUNNER: driving was where gunner found himself most centered and calm, even if he wasn’t feeling any of that as he listened to ivy speak about her now ex. ivy had always been another source of calm for him, but they were exes, too. “alright,” he conceded, both focusing on her speaking and driving. his eyes rolled at her acknowledgment and he snickered. “safe with strangers, yeah.” he couldn’t help his protective behavior, it mostly stemmed from his own experiences and his care for ivy. this phone call was the calmest conversation they had been able to have, and it was mostly because the femme was drunk. it was a bittersweet reminder of their old phone calls and all the little things about ivy that he missed, that he would have to bury in the morning. or when she sobered up all over again. right now he was too focused on being secure in her safety. “i know,” he murmured as the reminder weighed heavy on his conscience. there were too many things he had to say about the other ex that was none of his business to say, opinions on that one switch up that he held no right to. “dancing and having fun, too, is less depressing than simply drinking over it.” he decided, smiling in spite of himself. her following words brought a wry smile to his lips, and if it was hard to hear? that was his own fault for suggesting the very idea to ivy. “no worries here, you’ll snatch someone up in no time.” he forces the words out, finally pulling up to a parking spot.

IVY: if it wasn't for the alcohol runnings through her veins she would not be telling gunner about anything that happened between her and damon. she didn't need to but in this venerable state of hers she found her spilling all the information to her ex. the girl started to sway some more in place as a new song came on. the girl wanted to dance so she had to try and wrap this conversation up the best she could. "totally safe and sound" she said with a small giggle. it was true though, she was safe at the present and she didn't have a worry really. ivy took some sips of her drinks and her water before thinking about ana. she was grateful that her parent's took ana and didn't ask any questions about what had happened, cause they knew ivy would tell them when she was ready. "oh don't worry i've been dancing and drinking while i talk to you" she said smiling before finishing off her drinks. the martini's were like lolly water so it was very easily for the girl to finish both of them and her glass of water. "there are plenty of good look males here but remember im trying to forget the male existence so we may have a problem there" ivy said with a laugh. "well gun, its been great talking with you even though ill probably be bad at myself in the morning for tell you all this. but i gottta go. i need to get back on the dance floor" she said. "see you later neighbour"

GUNNER: gunner put his car keys in his pocket as he got out, listening to ivy speak. he paused, stood and leaned against his car as he held the phone up to his ear. it was impossible to not find himself amused with her good mood even though he was primarily concerned. he let out a sigh at her words. “i’m sure you’ll find a balance in all that. see you neighbor.” he offered in parting before he tucked his phone into his pocket and double check his car was locked before making his way into the club, dark hues scanning the crowds of people before he found the person he was looking for. it would be impossible to not see her, he realized, taking in the sight of her and the people close by.

IVY: ivy waited for his response before hanging up the phone, it was time for this girl to get back onto the dance floor. she put her phone into her purse before heading back onto the dance floor. as she reached the dance floor the song we found love came on. it wasn't the original. it had more of a beat to it. ivy ran her hands up her body and through her hair as she danced along to the music, letting it take control once more. she was surrounded by other strangers dancing along to the music. she was happy. nothing was going to change that. this is what she needed. she needed to let her hair go. the girl smiled and laughed as she danced along side people who had the same energy as she did

GUNNER: he was reluctant to intrude upon her good time, but gunner still couldn’t help himself when he was once again focused on the people are ivy. his own distrust leaking through and his jaw tensed as he made his way over, keeping his movement as casual as possible. “you look like you’re having a good time.” he interrupted upon making it to the femme, knowing he wanted to note that she looked good but that was certainly a breach in whatever boundaries existed.

IVY: with every beat of the music the girl found herself letting more and more go of everything. it was getting hot and sweaty and ivy was enjoying all of it. she hadn't been out like this is in such a long time and honestly she missed it. ivy was smiling and continued to smile when she heard a voice. she turned to find gunner standing not too far from where she was. the girl was shocked to see him here, it felt like she had just gotten off the phone to him not even five minutes ago. was he already on his way when she was talking to him. "i'm having a great time thank you. what are you doing here?" she asked looking at him but that didn't stop her from dancing.

GUNNER: stuffing his hands into his pockets, gunner made a half attempt to dance. or pretend to be for the sake of any on lookers and to not impede on the clear good mood the femme was in. be it a drunken state of mood or not, he would likely inadvertently ruin her mood sober enough over the next few weeks and months and years. without the intent, even. ignoring those thoughts, he offered an easy shrug at her question. “what can i say? i needed to make sure you were gonna be alright.”

IVY: ivy smiled as she looked the boy up and down, he looked good and she knew she shouldn't be thinking like that but she was. he looked good and she wasn't going to deny that and he came all the way here to make sure she was okay even after telling him she was okay. "i did tell you i was okay. from where you are standing am i okay" she asked with a small smile before dancing a little closer to him. "do you wanna get a drink?" she asked standing only a few centimetres from him and looking at him with a smile.

GUNNER: he offered a half smirk at her reminder of the answer she gave on the phone, another half shrug upwards. there was no real reason for him to be here besides his own personal protective nature and ironically finding himself not having a lot of faith in people. “you did, and you do look okay, but taking that risk? not a chance.” he answered, letting his gaze shift to the peripheral before he focused on ivy, closer to him. “nah, tempting idea but i drove and I’m only here to keep an eye out.” even if she was drunk, it was refreshing to see her smiling in his direction again.

IVY: ivy couldn't help but smirk back at the boy. there was history between these two and even though it was overwhelming him coming back into her life and him being part of the reasons she needed to forget everything, it didn't stop her from thinking how nice it was of him to come and make sure she was okay. he still cared, "no chance huh" she said smiling at him. "these people are just here having fun like i am" she said before taking his hand. "that's fair, but i need another drink so since you need to make sure i'm okay, you're coming to the bar with me." ivy said intertwining her fingers in his and pulling him in the direction of the bar. as soon as she left the dance floor she felt the instant relief of cool air. she didn't realise how hot it was getting on the floor. she smiled as the two of them walked to the bar hand in hand. it had been a while since they had done this. if anyone she knew saw her like this they would probably come and smack her hand outta his, but it didn't mean anything right now and she probably will be angry at herself in the morning for this anyway. the girl smiled at the bartender before order another martini, 2 glasses of water and a coke for gunner. "i got you a coke. i hope you still like that" she said looking up at him

GUNNER: it was impossible for the brunet to not care for ivy and her safety. even with his disruptive departure from her life, and his just as disruptive re-emergence. there was always going to be that part of the male, he had given her a part of him that no one else had at one point. his heart. “nope,” he popped the p in the word with a small, falsely wry smile. “yeah, well, i am all for them and you having a good time.” momentarily struck with surprise when she took his hand, but he didn’t pull his hand back. he was quiet to process her words and the familiar and foreign feeling of her hand in his again. “i can’t argue with that.” he conceded, not that he would have given the circumstances. his gaze shot to their hands at her intertwining their fingers for only a moment, already walking with the femme towards the bar. he wasn’t too worried about onlookers, he was, as he often was around ivy, focused on her. he knew this would only cause more trouble later, but it was far too tempting to briefly ruminate in the familiarity. “oh, thanks,” his brows furrowed in slight confusion. “coke is good.”

IVY: Times like this made ivy miss gunner and when they were together. If everything that happened with Ana didn’t happen then they most likely would be still together but then she wouldn’t have ana. She couldn’t help but laugh at the boy telling her nope. It was whatever it was going to be, he could be here if he wanted to be; she wasn’t going to stop him. She was far from caring about him being here. He wanted to be here and make sure she was okay and he made his appearance present to her so he was now stuck with a very drunk ivy. The girl thanked the bartender before handing him his coke. “Great then here you go. I also got you a water too” she said smiling as she took a sip of her martini. “Ahh refreshing. Just what I needed after my little dance session” she said leaning back against the bar and looking at gunner. “So bodyguard what is your plan?” She asked smirking at him

GUNNER: gunner knew things could have been different, if he was capable of admitting he was wrong. at least, if could have been different if that admittance came when ivy was pregnant. if he hadn’t gone and cause so many arguments. but living off his regrets couldn’t help him and it wasn’t going to bring any new information to the table. focusing on the task at hand was his only concern for the moment, he never wanted to see the femme hurt. that would never change, he hated when it had been his own doing and he hated the idea now and he hated the potential of strangers hurting her. “thanks,” he nodded, taking the offered coke and taking a drink from it. “dancing is definitely a work out of its own. you good?” he looked at the femme. “bodyguard, huh? my plan is just to make sure you have some fun, and make sure you get where you’re goin’ safely. or if you meet someone, guess i’ll dip out after making sure he ain’t suspicious.” he shrugged, ignoring the visual that tensed his jaw involuntarily. “your plan is dancing and drinking, right? any additions to that?”

IVY: ivy was very familiar with gunner looking out for her in social events like this, it was his thing. i didn't matter where she was, the boy would always make sure she was okay and make sure she was with someone. tonight she was going to forget the pain this boy had once caused her and just focus on the present. focus on her night out and the gunner that was standing in front of her. the girl smiled as the boy took the drink from her. "you're welcome" she said before taking another sip of her martini. she couldn't go wrong with this cocktail and but she should probably slow done on them as she had already had quite a few of them. "it truly is, i won't need to go to the gym tomorrow" she said giggling before continuing, "yeah i'm real good. are you good?" she asked. "yep. you're my bodyguard. yeah i know. don't you worry i am having so much fun. thank you for looking out for me" she said looking him up and down again. he looked good and part of her wanted to take him out of the dance floor and another part wanted it to just be her and him. she shouldn't be thinking like this but she couldn't help it. looking into his eyes, she knew how much he still cared for her and she cared for him, she always would. it didn't matter how much pain this boy put her in she would still care. he was the father of her daughter. "did you forget i want to forget the male existence. what makes you think i wanna get someone who will most likely break my heart" she said looking at him with a small smile before taking a sip of her drink once more. "my plan is just to have fun and try and forget the past 48 hours. i need to forget damon. i don't wanna feel this pain anymore. its the worst feeling gun. like why wasn't i enough" the girl said before downing the rest of her drink.

GUNNER: it had been awhile since gunner felt even a fraction of the need to protect anyone the way he always did with ivy. perhaps that said a lot about his world view. he saw the majority in a red haze of distrust and despite everything, ivy was seen in a delicate light he didn’t divvy out to anyone else. as he drank his coke, he offered a smile at her response to his thanks. the feelings that were surfacing in their current predicament were dangerous, so he had to work to ignore them. he did give her a thorough once over, arching up his brow. “you don’t need the gym period. but if it’s what you like to do,” he shrugged. he took in her words, hoping it wasn’t just a drunken feeling of good. “i’m good,” he nodded. he couldn’t help the slight chuckle at her words, but it was fitting to the situation entirely. “so long as you’re safe and having fun. no problem, “ he had to stop from saying that he always would look out for her, especially given the history, but it was true. it was a reflex when he believed she was in real potential danger. even if it was only his own concerns. he was reminded of his mistakes every time he looked into her eyes but he couldn’t look away for long. he would always care for ivy, she was the first and currently only person to ever pierce his heart. “who says it’s gotta break your heart? do a whole no strings attached thing, focus on feeling good and not falling in love.” he offered, even though he didn’t like either version. “that’s a good plan.” he nodded, feeling a familiar empathy for her pain as she explained it. “you got to know… you are enough. you are… it’s not you, ivy. it couldn’t have had anything to do with you not being enough. there’s no way.” he spoke matter of factly.

IVY: it was nights like this that brought back memories of gunner and ivy. memories of celebrating his wins, nights out, and just him. he was a big part of her life for such a long time and he always will be. despite the pain he had caused her.it was overwhelming amount of pain and whether it being the alcohol thinking or if it was actually what she thought. he was here. he had come back to get to know his daughter, as much of that idea scares her, the boy was trying. it still annoyed her that he had only decided to come back now, now that he was expecting his second child but just pushed that thought away. ivy couldn't help but laugh. "you know there's this thing in the modelling world where you have to keep looking your best even if you aren't feeling it. i'm just luckily i don't have any shoots booked until two weeks time because my agent would be pissed at me for tonight" she said laughing as she took another sip of her drink. the girl smiled at him. "well that's good" she said before taking a long sip of her water and then taking his hand and heading away from the bar. "well look around, i'm safe and having such a great time. i've probably had too many martini's but so be it. i'll probably have some more" she said slurring her words just a little as the last few drinks were catching up with her. ivy listened to gunner talk about it could just be something casual. that's how her and damon started and look how that ended. "you know i'm never good at the whole no strings attached thing. plus doing that defeats the purpose of trying to forget you all" she said laughing. "are also you being here defeats that purpose too" she continued. "but, i'm glad you're here" she said with a smile. definitely the alcohol talking and making her feeling like they had just met. tonight was to make her forget and now it was getting mushy with her words and thoughts about damon. "who knows what that boy was thinking but its made me feel the way i do. so lets forget" she said smiling before pulling him onto the dance floor. "come dance with me. like we use too"

GUNNER: for a moment, being here in this club with ivy had a familiar sensation to it. he couldn’t let his thoughts linger too deeply on that subject, knowing it wasn’t smart when he wasn’t here in the old context. he had come to the club to aide some desire to protect the model, even though he had no right. he couldn’t help himself from feeling protective though. even if the situation with ana and ivy was a mess, even if she hated him soberly, he couldn’t sit back and let the girl be left to whatever danger lurked in the dark. even if it was in his own head. and his return timing sucked. “if the model king world thinks you don’t always look your best, they’re blind and wrong. but at least you don’t have to worry about your agent tonight.” he nodded, finishing his coke and moving onto his water. he returned her smile at his answers. following her direction away from the bar, gunner looked around and he almost grimaced at the sound of her slurring. “well, it’s always good to be certain. i won’t tell you how to drink though.” he told the femme. he furrowed his brow and shrugged his shoulders at her words. “yeah, well, i have no answer for that one because it does defeat the purpose.” he admitted. and then he rolled his eyes, giving a wry smile. “but im more than happy to give you space to forget i just wanna keep an eye out. but… I’m glad you’re glad,” he figured it was just the alcohol. more than likely she would be pissed in the morning that she had even called him. “i know it had nothing to do with you being enough or he’s insane.” he spoke before letting it drop with a raised hand in surrender. she had pulled him onto the dance floor before he could really make a choice but could he deny her a dance? no. “okay,” especially when she seemed to be having a good time.

IVY: it was all too familiar them being together on a night out, dancing, having fun and just being together and tonight wasn't any different it was like old times. times that she had missed. "yeah most people say that but you know apparently they know what's best" the girl shook her head. she was relieved that she hadn't had a shoots booked and she didn't have to worry about the repercussions of her night out. she had booked for three nights downtown and she was going to enjoy every minute of it. do whats best for her and have a good time. "very grateful i don't have to worry about them. i can have fun and not wake up and know im going to have a billion calls from them" she said with a small smile as she directed them to the floor. "appreciate your support. ivy couldn't help but laugh. tonight she wanted to forget about the male existence but now she found herself with gunner here and to be honest she wasn't complaining. “That’s totally up to you. If you want to stand in the corner and observe than you do that. But right now I want to dance. I want to dance with you” she said smiling before taking both his hands. It was so confusing, the other day she was so angry at him and now she just wanted to be near him. Wanted to have fun with him. Probably the alcohol talking but so be it. Gunner would always be a big part of her life even if she didn’t let herself believe it. Ivy knew he was right deep down but it was hard to think about that since of everything that had happened. She just shrugged it off not wanting to let her thoughts ruin her night. “It will be fun I promise. You use to love dancing with me” she said laughing as her hips started moving with the music. the girl couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the fact that gunner answered her drunken call and then drove all the way down town to make sure she was okay. Where was that when she was alone every other time she had gone out. But he was here now. He had made the effort which just shows her that he does wanna try.

GUNNER: without all the pain he caused and the absence he left behind, tonight would have been a regular occurrence with ivy. gunner didn't need that verified, but it was a bittersweet message to swallow. "they don't, but if you want to stick with it... i'm not gonna start bashing the business." he decided, even if the very notion had left a distasteful sense behind. he let out a short chuckle at her words, nodding at her following words. "it's always good to get away from all the calls and people naggin' you for something." not that he had too much experience in that, gunner armani was given far too much privilege with his surname alone. the idea of bothering him with anything was preposterous to most people, and he didn't answer those calls most of the time anyway. he had further disconnected after his brush of reality. "i try." he smiled in turn to her laughter, a sound that was still all too contagious even in her current state. "it's actually in accordance to your wants, if i'm ruinin' the night by bein' so close, just let me know." he offered a shrug, but then she went and said she wanted to dance with him. and really, how was he supposed to observe from the corner after that? his hands in hers, he glanced down and did his best not to let his gaze linger before he offered her a small smile. gunner couldn't help but note that this would be, perhaps. his best memory of ivy in recent times. knowing how sour it would likely be the next time they talked. if she wasn't forgetting the male existence and drinking into oblivion again. bittersweet, but he would have to settle for it. it had been so long since she was smiling at him, so he wasn't going to ruin it intentionally. "how could i forget?" he raised a brow, and in turn he followed up with moving along with the music and the woman in front of him. it wasn't hard for the brunet to face most people, but facing ivy amor after all he had done? it was one of the hardest things he had ever done. facing ana, when it got down to that time, would be the hardest thing he would have to do and he knew he was going to replay that regret of leaving for the rest of his life. but he didn't want to waste any more time.

IVY: ivy loved her job but it came with responsibilities and when she had gigs lined up she couldn't let her guard down really. she couldn't be irresponsible with her drinking. she was grateful for the time off especially after everything that she had been going through. "i generally enjoy my job, there so many different opportunities that it allows me to get. just sometimes its a little hard thats all" she said as her words started to slur a little more. the girl knew gunner's opinion on the modelling industry and she was grateful that he always use to make her feel like she was normal and that there wasn't anything wrong with her just because a agent said it was. ivy smiled at gunner. "if you were ruining my night, i would have told you to leave ages ago, so we good" she said smiling as they headed for the dance floor. in this moment she was forgetting everything. it was just both of them, the dance floor and music. not strings, no baggage, just fun. the girl swayed her hips some more as she smiled at the boy and running her hands through her hair. "i don't know, some people forget that sorta stuff" she said as she tilted her head back a little and the music took over. the girl danced alongside gunner with a smile. ivy knew that tonight meant one step forward for them, hoping that she wasn't going to be too annoyed with herself in the morning. ivy danced around gunner, trailing her fingers from his chest to his back with a smile. by this time the alcohol had truly gone to her head, from all the dancing her head was spinning slightly but she tried to push through it, stumbling a little before adjusting herself with a smile. "i'm okay" she said smiling at the boy

GUNNER: gunner nodded in response to the femme's admittance, he was aware of just how the modeling industry could be. if he hadn't ever been with ivy, he might have felt less disdain for it, but he had. "glad you enjoy it, sucks that it's gotta be so difficult." he spoke, taking note of the increasing slur in her words. his brows already furrowing in his concern, even with the smiles she offered. her words brought a short lived sense of ease, but he focused on their dancing and keeping an eye on vee. "some people ain't me." he offered with an all too arrogant smirk, before it fell from his lips once more. there was mounting concern for the end result of the night, the safety of ivy and knowing she was definitely only getting drunker. when she trailed her fingers from his chest to his back, that should have been a sure enough sign, but when she stumbled and he braced to catch her before she could actually fall, he knew it was time to get her home or on her way home. "yeah, well, i think it's best you get back to your room for the night. don't need you getting anymore drunk and endin' up actually hurt, vee." he told her.

IVY: ivy was always thankful how supportive gunner was even if he didn't 100% agree with the industry. "most industries have some sort of difficulties don't they" she said looking up at him. the girl couldn't help but smile when he said he didn't forget. it meant that the memories that they had once shared weren't forgotten. they were certainly never forgotten in her mind, just pushed back a little to stop her from getting upset at the thought of them. the girl danced, laughed before she stumbled and couldn't help but laugh as the boy caught her. with her head spinning the way it was, it was probably time for her to head back to the room even though she didn't really want to. she started to dance again, as the boy spoke.  ivy knew he was right but she really didn't want to admit that. "oh party pooper you are" she said giggling before she stopped dancing. "how do you even know where i am staying mr" she asked putting her hands on her hips with a smile

GUNNER: "yeah, i suppose they do." gunner allowed, though he hated to admit to it, it was a factor even within his line of preferred work. he returned the smile she offered, feeling an unrecognizable sense of self-loathing slithering into his veins as he did. as he was reminded of all the good memories they shared, and then simultaneous was rewarded with the vivid recollection of their last few weeks together. her laughter reminded him that they were in the present moment, in the club, and getting ivy safely back was a priority to whatever dark hole his thoughts was shifting to circulate. "i am?" he arched a brow. "so be it, you'll feel at least a small amount better if you leave now." he told her, and his head cocked sideways at her curiosity. "i could figure that out within a few minutes, lots of resources at my fingertips, but i actually was figuring you may have retained that information long enough to tell me. or relay it to a taxi if you'd prefer that ride home than one with me." he admitted, looking at her stance with a small smirk etching over his features.

IVY: ivy just smiled at him as he spoke. it was like every industry it had its ups and downs, its challenges, the perks. it was just normal. times like this just made her wish that everything they had gone through didn't. she wish when tomorrow came and she was sober she could be like this with him but she knew that wouldn't be the case. there was still so much pain and confusion. "well you see by taking me away from the party, thats a party pooper" she said pouting. "hmm, can we get something greasy before you escort me back to me room" she said laughing. "okay mr detective. lead the way" she said ignoring the part about a taxi for a minute. "i am sure your car is more comfy than a taxi and a lot safer might i add" ivy said.

GUNNER: he hadn't been back long, and the armani male had figured it wouldn't be as tricky to enter back into ivy's life without the burning reminders. he forgot, apparently, how deeply the woman had left an imprint on his life and his believes. he nodded, offering a chuckle at her words and the pout. "i'll have to deal with the title." he shrugged. at her question, he nodded, knowing trying to get some food down would do a little bit of good. "alright, yeah, we can stop by a drive thru." he promised. "all these fancy new nicknames." he teased, eyes rolling playfully before he started to lead the femme towards the exit. "i'd definitely agree, especially to safer, but i'm not lookin' to cross your boundaries." especially knowing the likely purpose of her getting a room was to not deal with him. or at least partially.

IVY: "yes you will" she said smiling at him. she loved that she was able to joke with him, it felt like old times. ivy made sure she had her purse and her phone and room key before nodding at the boy when he agreed on drive thru. "okay deal." she said smiling as he lead her out of the dance floor. "well i love giving you nicknames" ivy said as they reached the exit. the cool air hit her face and the girl couldn't help but smile. it felt so nice. "gunner, its fine. where's your car? i need something greasy" she said with a small laugh as she waited for the boy to guide her to his car.

GUNNER: her return brought out a low chuckle, gunner shook his head. as they got to the exit, he cocked a brow at his ex with a small smile. "it would be a shame to stop you from doing something you love." he decided, the night are was more of a relief for the femme, he knew given her state, but he felt more at ease without the proximity of strangers. he motioned his head towards the direction of his car. "this way, let's get you some greasy food." he agreed, leading her to his car and opening the passenger side door to help her in and make sure she didn't end up face first into asphalt or concrete or his car door. none of those would he been pleasant for the femme.

IVY: ivy smiled as she walked alongside gunner. she couldn't help but giggle at the other's response. she was beyond intoxicated name, the fresh air was soothing but her slurring words and blurry vision told her otherwise. she was grateful to have gunner her and him taking her home. "it would be indeed" she said laughing. "what are we gonna get. im intrigued" she said with a smile as the boy lead her to his car. ivy knew it was his car the minute they were close to it. it hadn't changed. this car brought her so many good and bad memories. she thanked gunner as he helped her into the car before she shut the door. ivy rested her head on the headrest and put her seatbelt on. the seats in his car were always so comfy. she smiled as she sunk into it a little. "the seats still comfy"

GUNNER: when he slid into the driver seat, buckling in and starting the car up, he offered the femme a chuckle. "i was assuming the closest burger and fry place for greasy food, but if you have another preference just shoot it out." he offered. gunner hadn't entirely thought about the car he was driving or the familiarity of it that would send him back. to moments in time where he and ivy had more good memories than even the bad that registered. he shoved those thoughts away. "don't know how anybody drives a vehicle if the seats are comfortable enough." he returned with a small smile, pulling out of the parking spot and driving off.

IVY: ivy curled herself up in the passenger seat, a sense of familiarity washed over her as she sat there. the girl glanced over to the boy. he always looked so handsome driving. but she quickly changed her thought process. "burger and fries sounds like a plan" she said smiling. "no suggestions just greasy food" ivy said with a small laugh. "well i mean after all these years they are still comfy" she said looking at him. she couldn't help it, she was very drunk and he looked handsome. "so mr detective, have you worked out where we going after the greasy food?"

GUNNER: as he drove towards a close by restaurant, he focused his gaze on the road. knowing looking over at ivy would only send him reeling back in time and send another wave of guilt through him. “as long as it works for you.” he nodded, sparing a brief glance her way when she clarified and he chuckled. “yeah, some things don’t change i suppose.” and some do. “your hotel? can’t be too far from home.” he arched a brow as he decided that.

IVY: Ivy watched between the boy and the road as they headed through the downtown streets. She was thankful for gunner being there and now taking her back to her hotel. Despite wanting to forget everything, she would rather know that he still cared than not. “It does” she said smiling as she saw the big sign for the burger shack. “Ooo yes, burger shack. They do really good shakes” she said giggling. “They really don’t do they” she said before her hand rested on the hand rest which wasn’t too far from where gunners side of the vehicle was. “Oh my detective you are good. It’s actually just around the corner from here” she said smiling at him.

GUNNER: it didn’t take them long to pull up to the first place that came to mind nearby the club, burger shack. “are you wanting a shake, too?” he asked as he pulled into the drive thru, looking over at the femme. he offered a nod at her question, gaze shifting to her hand and feeling all the more like this was an alternate reality and hating the bittersweet aftertaste of the moment. “what can i say? i take my job seriously.” he spoke, teasing and offering a low chuckle despite himself.

IVY: The girl nodded, “yes please. Chocolate shake thank you” she said with a smile as she wiggled in her seat so she could see the menu as they pulled into the drive thru. “Can I have the big shack burger in a medium” she said looking at him with a smile. Before sitting back in her chair but leaving her hand where it was only a few inches from his. It brought back so many memories. “I can see that. You’re very good” ivy said with a laugh as she watched the buy order the takeaway.

GUNNER: relaying her order and waiting for his total, gunner pulled up to pay for her meal. “let me know if the food is good when you get it. gotta live vicariously through your stomach.” he was merely teasing, having decided against getting himself food because he wasn’t hungry. he glanced over at the femme as he waited for them to get her food and shake ready. “it is very easy to see.” he joked, unable to keep a smile from his face before he was grabbing the bag and the shake being held out to him.

IVY: ivy looked at him as they waited for the food to be ready. "why aren't you getting anything?" she asked him shaking her head a little. "but this place is always good, so you're gonna miss out" the girl said with a small giggle as she sat back in the seat. she was still very much feeling the affects of the alcohol and she was excited to get this food into her. "yes" she said looking at him before watching the boy grab the food and her shake. "oh my gosh, it smells so good" she said smiling as the food was handed to her. ivy crossed her legs on the seat and opened the bag before taking a sip of her shake.

GUNNER: gunner arched a brow at her question, “cause you need it more than me and I’m not hungry.” he offered. and he laughed slightly at her follow up. “besides, it’d be cold by the time i get to it.” he admitted. when the food was finally handed over, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at her reaction as he pulled out of the drive thru and drove towards her hotel.

IVY: ivy smiled as she pulled the fries and burger out of the bag and placed them on her lap. she was grateful for the boy and felt bad that he wasn't having anything. the girl looked between him and the burger. "here take the first bite" ivy said holding the burger up to him, "you can't do all this driving and bodyguard work and not eat" she said with a small laugh.

GUNNER: gunner glanced over to the femme and then at the burger held out to him, shaking his head with his most reassuring smile. “vee, i appreciate it but i really ain’t hungry right now. i promise, if i was i would have gotten something.” her next words brought an easy chuckle from his mouth. “i’ll eat later, bodyguardin’ and drivin’ ain’t all that appetite inducing.”

IVY: ivy looked at him for a minute after he shook his head and listened but taking the burger back and taking a bite of it. "well you're missing out" she said smiling. "please make sure you eat okay." the girl said before turning to her fries. this is just what she needed. greasy food, chocolate shake and then a good night's sleep. she mentally reminder herself to take some aspirin before she went to sleep. the girl had some on the side table in her hotel room. ivy looked between him and the road before taking a sip of her drink and noticing the sign to her hotel. "its the next one up on the right" ivy said with a small smile looking over at gunner.

GUNNER:“i bet i am,” he agreed as he returned his focus to the road ahead. it was very much like ivy to offer anyway. and be concerned about him eating. “i will,” he promised. when she pointed out her hotel, he followed her direction and found a spot to park long enough to make sure she made it to her room.

IVY: Ivy smiled as she enjoyed her food. She knew the boy would have gotten something to eat if he was hungry but being who she was, ivy had to offer him some of hers. The girl nodded as she ate some of her fries and took a sip of her shake. It was probably the best shake she has had in a while but who know that may just been cause she’s drunk. She had finished her burger by the time gunner had found a parking spot. It was just what she needed. “Thank you for dropping me to my hotel” ivy said as she placed her fries back into the bag and took off her seat belt. 

GUNNER: gunner took a moment to look at the femme as he cut the engine. “thanks though.” he added, an afterthought that wouldn’t have surfaced in anyone else’s presence with genuine intent. “you going to be alright on ya way up? i can make sure one of the staff helps you to your room or whatever you need.” he offered, arching a brow and still feeling concerned given her state but knowing when not to invade. it was better he didn’t overstep too far, it was miraculous she had even allowed him the momentary opportunity to assure her safety. for his own eyes.

IVY: Ivy looked at him with a smile. “No worries” she said before taking a sip of her chocolate shake. As she wiggled the seatbelt from her arm. Ivy turned in her seat to look at gunner. “Yeah I think I’ll be good, I’ve got my purse, keys, Phone and food” she said with a small giggle. From where they were parked she could see her balcony. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “That’s my balcony just up there on the 8th floor. I can wave at you so you know I got to my room safely” the girl said before grabbing her things and opening the door.

GUNNER: gunner nodded at her words, turning to face the femme as she worked out of her seatbelt. “alright,” he conceded. finding his gaze towards the balcony she mentioned, and again, he nodded as he memorized the balcony. “i’ll be waiting for that wave. be careful. be safe.” he warned as she exited the car.

IVY: ivy smiled at the boy before getting out of the car and looking back over to him. "oh i know you will be" she said with a smile. "thank you again for taking me home" the girl said before closing the door and heading inside. ivy stumbled slightly before straightening up and heading inside the lobby. it didn't take her long to get from the lobby to the lift to her hotel room. ivy unlocked her door before throwing her purse onto her bed and heading out to the balcony. of course he was still there. she smiled before looking down at gunner in the car. "now you drive home safe okay" she said waving at him with a smile

GUNNER: waiting until he saw ivy at the balcony she mentioned, gunner offered a returning wave and a small smile. he started his car back up after making sure the femme was in her room and safe, starting off back to his home.

-end of thread-

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 18

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17

NOT having to wait a year for another update?! WHO AM I?!?!! A new woman I tell you. Fortunately (or not) Frat Harry’s the same ‘ol Frat Harry. And this time you let him into your life a little more. But will he stay? Enjoy loves, lemme know what you think ;) 

“So turns out Mike’s bottle of tequila was $350 and John and I had already dank all of it. When Mike told us how much it was, we just had to be the full dicks. You start apologizing at block parties and you lose your edge. Stuff is borderline evaporative!” Father looked around at our unimpressed faces and his red face grew darker, exploding from wheezing laughter. “Oh, come on! It’s funny!!” His wheezing subsided with a toss of his eyebrows. He shrugged dramatically. “Good thing I appreciate my humor.” 

 Paul sat at the head of the table, the top two buttons undone on his blue business button-down. He made eye contact with me, both of our eyes widening. I’d given him a quick side-hug, one of those awkward lean-down-because-the-other-person-is-too-lazy-to-stand-up hug. It’d almost been a year, but it was the same customary greeting we’d developed. Their plates were already stacked in the sink, but my mom had readied plates of mash potatoes, string beans, and steak for Harry and I. 

 They were sprawled out, tummies full, all of them looking like they’d had long days at the office. Father especially. His face was reddened like the whites of his eyes, his hair standing on end. 

 I poked at my steak. 

 “You missed it, Y/N. He’s already five glasses in,” Paul continued. Teasing father was the one thing we could connect on - but he enjoyed it a little more than I. 

 Mom leant over the table, rolling her eyes. “At least. This is his ‘not drinking during the week,’” There was a smile, though.

 Dad held up his hands. “Hey! I haven’t had one sip of tequila. Wine is like water now.” He turned to Harry, as if his frat boy radar sensed a fellow drinker in his midst. “You have that problem…?” He fished for a name. 

 Harry’s shoulders straightened. “Harry.”

 “Harry?” he asked. 

 Before Harry could answer, Paul’s eyes narrowed. “You look familiar.” 

 It was like somebody sprinkled coked-out fairy dust over Mother. She sat up straighter, eyes twinkling, and sprawled her hands on the table as if to reveal the grand hurrah that Harry was the heir to all the land. Which, in modern day Newport, perhaps he was. I tried to come up with something to rescue Harry, but she beat me to it. 

 “His dad’s a doctor here. Coast Shores Medicine. Mr. Styles runs his own practice.” 

 “He can speak for himself,” I grumbled, stuffing my mouth with mash. 

 My mom stirred, voice low, “Honey, I was just letting them know.” 

 My dad’s eyes bulged out of his head before erupting into laughter. “You- you’re-” He pointed his finger, looking between Harry and me. He laughed more. 

 “Dad,” I warned. It’d clicked in his mind. At the end of summer, before I’d even known the Styles legacy let alone seen Harry’s face, we’d walked past the Styles medical office and my dad absolutely BLASTED their ostentatious display. My dad’s boisterous - Can you believe this idiot??! MORON! DIPSHIT! - blared in my mind like a flare gun. 

 Father caught my daggers. “Oh, relax,” he wheezed, settling down. He wouldn’t say anything, for now. “I transferred more money into your account today by the way.” He winked, pointing to me. “I love you.”

 “Love you too.” But I shrunk in my chair. I know Harry wasn’t one to talk about living off family money, but I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea either.

 Completely oblivious, Harry smiled politely, answering Father’s previous question. “We all have our vices.” 

 “Speaking of addicts-” Paul started.

 “Oh, God,” Dad huffed.

 Paul put his hands up with a humorless laugh. “I wasn’t targeting you, but now that you mention it-” 

 “Paul.” I frowned. 

 My warning tone flipped a switch in him. 

 “What?!” It was sharp, full of irritation, and no matter how long it'd been since I’d heard it - I stilled. His eyes challenged me to press him further, but I didn’t. “Can I speak?” 

 “All right,” mom said. “Let’s settle down.”

 “I’m calm,” Paul declared tersely. “I don’t know about your daughter.” 

 I scoffed, fighting the urge to bite back. 

 Harry tensed, and if I was an inch further I wouldn’t have heard his breath get a little deeper. 

 Without breaking his stare, Paul sat back in his chair, pushing up his sleeves. “Okay,” he started. “As I was saying. I don’t know if you guys saw on the news - probably not, but there was a scandal at the company last week.” 

 The company – AKA Rich Silvang Industries. Paul went straight from college and his internship to full-fledged Wall Street investment banking. He was only three years older than me, but he hadn’t lived at the house since he was eighteen. By 17 ½ all his things were in boxes. Meanwhile, I was almost twenty-one and still had half my things in my old room.  

 Mom practically gasped. “Really?” her voice swam with concern. 

 “I think I saw something about that,” Dad mentioned, putting on a serious tone. 

 “Maybe you did hear about it, then. It’s pretty big. The president was caught in his Vegas penthouse suite filled with drugs, and they arrested him for drug trafficking. They’re searching for someone to replace him right now.” 

 My mom’s hands dropped in her lap. “Wow.”

 “Could you be the replacement?” I asked.

 “Ha, yeah. I wish. I’m a few years off from that.” One thing you need to know about Paul - he has a plan for everything. If he wants something, he’ll buy every book to learn the ins and outs before making a move. His career was no different. 

 “What’d they find?” Harry asked, brows stitched in curiosity. 

 Paul puffed out a breath. “Everything. Heroine, cocaine, meth, ecstasy. It was just sitting there, in his suite. His girlfriend’s arrested, too.”

 “God, what a dipshit,” Dad breathed, irritated disbelief. “This guy has all the money in the world-”

 “Three thousand million dollars,” Paul corrected. 

 “Three tHOUSAND MILLION-!” Father squeaked. “God, if I had that money- GOD, why the hell would you piss it away like that.” 

 “Greed,” Mom said. “Is this the same president who donated all that money to helping foster children? The one invited you for a weekend in Aspen?” 

 “There’s only one president, mom.” 

 “Well I hope you didn’t USE anything.”

 Father ran his hands through his hair, still distraught at the impotence of those with money to enjoy their money. “I mean, I’d be fishing on an island somewhere.” 

 “On YOUR island that you BOUGHT,” Paul pitched in. 

 “With three thousand million,” I breathed. “If someone has everything in the world…” my voice trailed. Human nature was a mystery to me. A complete and utter mystery sometimes. Why get involved in drug trading when you had more than you could possibly need. You could fish off your personal island and then declare that island it’s own country if you wanted to. You could give hundreds of thousands of people access to clean water! Education! Tampons!! Essential things!!!

 Harry suddenly rested his hand on my thigh beneath the table, completely silent. My mom caught the action, a knowing smirk appearing on her lips. 

 “Money is wasted,” Father sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his belly. “Oh!! Speaking of, I have an important question for you.” 

 It took me a second to realize he was looking at me. “Yeah?” I asked, skeptical.

 “Can you grab me another bottle of red?” 

 ----

 The hot water ran over dishes clattering in the sink, and I winced, but I didn’t pull away. I could still feel the crusted blood beneath my nails.

 “Quick, somebody grab a camera.” 

 Father stood in the entranceway to the kitchen, hands up, mouth open in a ridiculous pressed circle like an orangutan. “Y/N’s doing the dishes!!” 

 “Haha. Very funny.” 

 Father sighed, running his hands over his face with a tired smile. “God that was a tiresome dinner, huh.” He tossed the empty wine bottle from hand to hand. 

 My eyes widened. “Yeahhhh.” 

 Harry, Paul, and Mother were still by the table, talking on some new financial law. I timed an escape perfectly. So had Father. 

 “Are you staying the night?”

 “Hm.” I hadn’t thought about that. “Maybe.” 

 “Is he spending the night?” 

 I smiled, not sure what he was going to say to a boy spending the night. The situation certainly hadn’t come up before. “I don’t think so.” 

 “I mean, I don’t care. You’re an adult, you can do what you want. Mom might not like the idea.” 

 In any other case, I’d agree. But this was the Styles boy. I think she’d make an exception. As if knowing where my mind was heading, his blue eyes suddenly twinkled with something mischievous. He finished his thought out loud. “Styles, huh... Isn’t that funny. Where’d you meet this kid?” 

 “English class. Small world, huh?” 

 “For how small it is we don’t see Paul too much, do we?” he asked. It was a more serious question than I was used to. One that didn’t need to be answered. 

 My hand suddenly came too close to the metal faucet, burning it, and I quickly turned it off, moving the dishes to the drying rack. An old Patsy Cline song crackled through the old radio in the kitchen. 

 “I don’t see too much of-” you either. But the words died on my lips when I saw Father’s notoriously clear eyes, wet with springing tears. I stood, shocked, not quite knowing what to say. I couldn’t be mad at him. Not for money, not for drinking. Maybe it was the wine getting him emotional. 

 He gave me one of those dad smiles, patting my shoulder. He hugged me, a proper hug, and I stood, stiff, before relaxing, letting myself be held. I hugged him back, feeling like I was six and he’d just told me he was going away for business. “Let’s go to the shake shack soon,” he said, softly, the slight jokey tone trying to reappear. “S’been a while.” 

 Guilt pricked me. Guilt for growing up, guilt for leaving, guilt for something I couldn’t name. “Course, papa.”

 Over his shoulder, I met Harry’s gaze from the kitchen table.

 Later at the door, we stood telling Paul goodbye. 

 Harry stood behind me in a protective stance while Paul adjusted his briefcase. “So what are your plans for the rest of the year? Are you going to add that extra class next semester, finish early?” he asked, the business-technical tone coming back in his voice. 

 “I’m going to finish my internship at the practice.” 

 “Good. Good. Then what?” Only half-joking.

 “I don’t know, I have another year to figure it out. Go to med school, probably.” 

 “Probably?!” He knocked on the door as he started to leave. “Time flies! Better figure it out, Y/N.”

 I smiled, the only thing I could do.

 “At least you’re going into something employable!” he called. The car beeped behind him, and he loaded his briefcase in the car.

 I smiled tighter.

 “She’ll be fine, Paul,” Mother waved behind me.

 He waved back. 

 “Wait!” Mom called. “You’re not going to give us a hug goodbye?” 

 He jogged back up the side-yard to the door, giving them hugs. Harry a handshake. Me, a side-hug. 

 “Will we see you soon?” I asked.

 “Why?” 

 “Thanksgiving.” 

 His brows rose. “Mom didn’t tell you?” 

 I shook my head.

 “This was our Thanksgiving. I leave for Japan next Wednesday.”

 “What?” I knew for a fact Thanksgiving was two weeks out. 

 “Honey..” she scolded. To Paul, “I told her we were going to do it early, she just doesn’t listen.” 

 “I’ll be back after Japan.” He exchanged a look with my father I couldn’t quite decipher. 

 Some vague memory of Mother telling me about an early Thanksgiving was there, buried beneath sororities, and gangs, and policemen questioning me. And beneath a thick layer of pig’s blood. 

 “Sorry, I forgot.”  

 But he was already in his car, closing the door behind him. 

 We stayed until the headlights disappeared, a sharp wind bellowing in and shaking the curtains. Harry didn’t stay to watch Paul leave. When my parents left for their room, I found him by the painted green wood table, picking at the edge.

 “This is from my fourth birthday.” I pointed to a dark circle on the edge of the table. “I ate my cake so fast, the candles knocked over and almost put the whole house in flames.” 

 “You didn’t blow them out?” 

 “There was cake. I didn’t see the candles.” 

 He smiled. “You’ve lived here a long time?” 

 “Since I was born.” 

 “Not bad.” 

 I led him wordlessly through my past, going through the 70s living room over plush stained carpet, down the hallway past family photos. It was a wordless tour. He stopped in front of a gold frame. It was all of us, on the beach in white. Paul and I had our arms around each other, laughing with gaps where our baby teeth had fallen out and the new ones had yet to come in. Our parents stood behind us, trying to wrestle us in their own arms, wind-whipped hair covering half my mother’s face. Taken seconds before we all fell over and Paul kneed me in the jewels, Father liked to say. 

 Harry caught himself staring, easily catching up with me in the short distance to my room. 

 “The grand reveal,” he murmured. 

 I was suddenly nervous. He followed close behind, entering a space of Frank Sinatra and Elvis posters. My old white wire bed frame stood in the middle of the small space, Winnie the Pooh sheets and mismatched purple pillows on top. The rest was taken up by a large pink bean bag that touched the foot of my bed and the mirrored closet with a European travel collage I’d taped together in its bottom-right corner when I was sixteen.  

 He looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling, oddly reminiscent of his sister’s old nursery room. “It’s cute,” he finally said. And somehow when he said it, it didn’t sound condescending. 

 He approached the near-empty bookshelf against the wall, now holding my mom’s arts and crafts and random junk bins. Ever since I moved out, more of her had moved in. She still left the walls untouched, though. Harry plucked at a photo booth strip I’d taped to the walls when I was thirteen. The summer after middle school. Matt and I were smiling, tongues out, sticking up our noses, pretending to strangle each other… 

 He tried to tape it back, but the tape had lost its stick.

 “It’s fine,” I said, taking the photo back. I propped it up against the bins. 

 “Do you have most of your books at the dorm? 

 “Yeah. The rest we sold a while back.” 

 “Spring cleaning?” 

 “Kind of??” I wrestled with whether to tell him the slightly more complicated truth. I’d hesitated too long though, and just came out with it. “Actually no, not really.” 

 He raised his brow, looking at my lips, waiting for me to digress. For some reason, I didn’t care if he knew. Maybe because I knew he had secrets, too. Even if he wouldn’t tell.

 “When we were younger… about four years ago now? It was a really rough time, financially.” 

 Harry didn’t say anything, didn’t move. I continued, “We had to get rid of a lot of things to afford the lease.”

 “You guys have been leasing this same house?” 

 I nodded. “It’s a lease-to-buy option. So maybe, one day…” I let my voice trail off. Maybe we’d own it. A potential dream, pretty impossible on paper. “It’s an old lady who owns this house, really sweet. She rents the house to us for a lot less than she could. I think it’s because she doesn’t want somebody else to buy it and tear it down, and she liked our family, too. She grew up here.”  

 He dusted the spine of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. “That’s one of the few I kept. Cliché, I know, but…” -I shrugged- “Who doesn’t love Mr. Darcy, right?”

 He turned, a softness in his eyes. 

 “We had to sell a lot in the house to make the payment on-time. She’s sweet and has the final say-so, but her family essentially runs her finances. They’re not so sweet.” 

 “You had to sell your books?” 

 “They were nice. Rare. My Grandpa picked them up for me in antique bookshops he’d visit when he’d travel. People sell a lot more than that to make it… like their bodies, their souuulllll.” 

 “Y/N,” he scoffed. 

 “What?” I sat at the foot of my bed, watching a once-again awkward Harry not quite what to do with his body. “It’s better now! A lot better than what it was. We still live here,” I shrug. 

 “Why don’t you live somewhere else?” 

 He didn’t say what he was thinking. Some place we could afford. 

 “My dad needs to live by the water. It’s his lifeline.” I paused. “That, and wine. If he works this hard and dies tomorrow, he wants to at least enjoy it.” 

 “Your brother…-” 

 “Wasn’t always an ass.” I smiled. 

 “I wasn’t going to say that.” 

 “I know.” I lay down, closing my eyes. I sensed him move towards my feet. “I don’t think he’s ever forgiven my dad,” I admitted. I didn’t say what for, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, the words I’d wondered about for years, I regretted it. That was too personal to share, even to Harry. With the tact of someone who learned not to speak about his past, he noticed. He didn’t bat an eye, didn’t press, just silently accepted. He moved his hands along the only other Austen cover I had. Sense and Sensibility.

 “You know…” he started, voice delicate as silk. “Austen’s dad went to a publisher on her behalf without even telling her.”

 “Really?” 

 He nodded. “He got declined, but- still. He did everything he could to help her succeed with her work, with her dreams.” 

 “Where are you going with this Shakespeare.” 

 “I can see that in your dad. He really loves you.” 

 I propped myself up on my elbows. “You know, for a boy who’s supposedly failing his classes, you’re pretty smart.”

 “Y/N,” he laughed lightly, settling in a strong gaze. “I was never failing.”

 The room stilled. “What do you mean?” 

 “You know what I mean.” He gently nudged my legs over, settling in beside me. I turned on my side, the Austen book cradled in the nicest hands I’d ever seen. “I didn’t know how else to get you alone,” he admitted, a quiet confession. 

 “Josiah de Saude didn’t know how to talk to a girl.” 

 “Oh, come off it,” he laughed, my favorite shiny laugh. And suddenly I was grinning, too. “I used to know what to say.” His eyes ran over my face, lingering on my mouth. “But then you came along, Y/N,” he admitted. His smile faded.

 With a strong gust of wind, the brush outside thwacked against my window. I jumped. It was always eerie, no matter how old I got. Inside, we had blankets, childhood memorabilia plastered to my walls, the steady thrum of a heater that’d just come out of summer hibernation. The outside wasn’t as calm as it was here. Here, in this mix of childhood and whatever it was that made my heart beat wild, we were safe. If only for a little while.

 I almost forgot Harry was next to me before the back of his hand brushed my leg. His fingers stroked my thigh, the skin beneath him tingling. A simple touch was all it took, and suddenly each cell of my body was on high alert, informing me, fairly quickly, that he didn’t let his hands wander. Did he want them to? 

 “They’re coming after me now,” I said, when it was clear he wasn’t trying anything. His eyes were closed, but his nostrils flared when I spoke. The hickey he’d given me was still there, carefully hidden by pounds of coverup. My fingers memorized its spot. It seemed to burn anew, reminding me of its place as its giver’s face shadowed.

 It needed to be said.

 Maybe my paranoia wasn’t just paranoia. Maybe it was my sixth sense. A warning. Maybe they really had been watching me. Maybe they’d memorized his mark, too. I remembered Harry shouting at me before disappearing on the field. If they fuck with you, they fuck with me. Was I just a walking target? 

 “They won’t get to you.” 

 “They could’ve.”

 “They aren’t dumb enough to do something like that,” he glowered.

 “Something like what?” 

 Words stalled at the curve of his lips. 

 “Something like what,” I repeated, slightly panicking. What had these people done before? Wouldn’t be dumb enough to rape me? Kill me? Hadn’t they come close enough?? His chest rose with a deep breath. “Tonight wasn’t a mistake,” I whispered.

 “You’re right, it wasn’t.” 

 “Well then what do they want? Because if it’s money they’re barking up the wrong tree.” I propped myself on an elbow, silently begging him to open his eyes. He did, hand running gently up my spine. “Do you even know?” I asked, suddenly horrified that he might be as in the dark as me.

 He swallowed, hooded eyes darkening. 

 “They want what I have,” he said. “And they’ll threaten me in any way they can until they get it. They’ll fish out any weakness. And then they’ll exploit it.” His voice softened at weakness. 

 Money, then. They wanted money. Unless… unless his weakness was me? I shook the thought away.

 “Why can’t you tell the police? Why can’t you just… tell them what’s going on?” I was becoming the girl I hated in movies. The girl that as soon as something horrific happened, she made an awful decision to try and solve it herself instead of CALLING THE DAMN COPS. Which is what I yelled at the screen, every time. CALL THE DAMN COPS. Which is what my brain was yelling at me, every day. CALL THE DAMN COPS. Neither of us listened. 

 “It’s more complicated than that,” he brushed off. 

 “Does this have to do with your ‘association’ with them?” 

 His voice turned sharp.  “That’s enough with the questions.” A horrific tremble rippled up my spine. The tone, so harsh and authoritative, just like my brother’s, made my skin crawl. He looked at me, sighing. “Please, just trust me on this. The less you know the better.” 

 “It’s a little hard to trust you when you’re the reason I’m a target.” 

 My words lingered for a horrible moment. A long, drawn-out silence. I could practically feel them dissolve into Harry’s skin before he sat up, leaping to his feet.

 I panicked. “I mean, it’s just hard to trust anyone when there’s so much that could happen. Things I don’t even know that could happen to me. Or even my family.” He scratched his collar, looking at our reflection in the mirror. My body scrambled upright, tearing itself from the blankets. “I don’t know what these guys are capable of. If you could just tell me, maybe-”

 “I should go.” 

 “No, Harry- wait!” 

 He stalled at the door. I met him there, tugging at his sweater sleeve. He’d looked so lovely in my room, in a different part of my life he’d only just entered. And now to see him leave my safe place so suddenly hurt me deeper than I thought it would. He turned, begrudgingly. The green ivy of his eyes had cooled, hardened, becoming impenetrable. 

 “Don’t leave. Please. You can’t keep coming and leaving, it’s more than confusing, it’s… it’s completely maddening!” 

 He leaned his head back against the door, practically groaning, but pinched the bridge of his nose instead. He took several levelled breaths. Finally, “You think I want this?” 

 I stilled. “Want what?”

 The horrifying possibility that “this” referenced us, petrified me. But the insecurity that he didn’t want me vanished when he looked traitorously at my waist, strong hands following suit. They gripped my sides, tugging me lightly forward. Suddenly I was drunk off the thought of them pushing me further, enough to make me dizzy... but they didn’t push. Strong hands kept me a safe distance apart, at any second looking like they could pull me into him or push me away. 

 “I want so many things, Y/N,” he breathed. “But all of them seem to do with you. And I don’t-” He seemed frustrated with himself as his brows stitched, trying to find the words. “I don’t know how to handle this. Everything’s so entangled.” 

 A knock at my door made us both jump. It creaked open, Mother poking her head in with a wide smile.

 “I heard it was a good game tonight,” she half-whispered. 

 Harry cocked a smile, and his hands fell from waist. “Yeah, it was.” Guarded eyes look to me. “Y/N went with my sister.” 

 So he had seen. I couldn't tell if there was irritation lacing his voice, but there certainly wasn’t joy. Entangled…. 

 “Oh, that’s fun. We’ll have to go watch you sometime huh honey?”

 I nodded slowly, eyes wide, silently asking what in the HECK are you doing in here?? 

 She drummed her fingers along the door. “Are you staying the night? You’re more than welcome to sleep on the couch. I know it doesn’t look that big, but it’s actually quite comfortable with all the blankets...”

 “You’re so sweet, really,” he started. And Mother believed it. I believed it. His entire look softened. “But I can’t, unfortunately. I have an early practice tomorrow. And I have to get gas on my way home.”

 My heart sank. The car. He needed to move my car.

 “Oh, really?” Mother opened the door wider. “It’s getting late, though. It started raining…” 

 “I’m used to a little rain,” he said, slipping past my mother. I remained behind her, arms crossed. “Thank you for having me. It was a lovely dinner.” He looked to me, betrayed and abandoned, something sad and regretful brimming in his eyes. He lifted a finger to his brow in salute, then turned on his heel, heading down the hall. 

 “Bye Harry!” She called. Then, to me, “Don’t you want to walk him out?” 

 I shook my head, fighting back a slew of angry words as I sulked to my window. I opened it, wide, letting the first sprinkles of rain hit my face. 

 “Oh honey, shut that, you’ll get the sill all wet.” 

 “I just want to feel it for a little while,” I said. 

 “You’ll catch cold!”

 “Mom, please.”

 She flinched. “Okay. Just a little, though. Want me to close your door?” 

 I nodded, a gust of wind blowing and almost slamming it shut itself. 

 “A storm’s coming, Y/N,” she shivered. “Don’t stand there too long.”  

 I wasn’t sure when she left my doorway, but I knew when he left the driveway. An engine roared to life and the rain surged with a frenzy. I listened as the grumbling faded away, down the street and off to somewhere unknown - but not out of my life. That part wasn’t in my control, but there were things that were. I couldn’t stand around and wait for him anymore. Mother was right.

 I closed the window, walking to the foot of my bed. Alone, a soppy looking girl stared back at me from the mirror. She sat on a familiar bed, wet hair plastering her face, droplets hanging from her nose, from her lashes. She looked only partly relaxed, the rest of her poised, tensed, like she could either jump or sleep in any given second. She looked exhausted.  

 But there was something alive, still. Just beyond her eyes, a little ember catching spark.

 I wasn’t going to stand around. The window had already opened. The rain had hit the fan and it’d soaked me through. Nothing was going to change unless I did. Unless I moved.

 Waiting for a boy to verify my safety?

 Yeah, no thanks. If Madame Bovary taught me anything,

 I’d get that myself.

part 19

[enkelimagnus]

Club

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1542 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 3 Power Broker 

Bucky's thoughts and feelings during the party at Sharon's house, while they wait for her to find Nagel.

TW: alcohol drinking

Read on AO3

Part 23 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

--------------

Bucky has no idea what he's drinking. He knows it’s supposed to be strong, some sort of clear grain alcohol in quantities that would knock out a normal man. He’s not a normal man though. He hasn’t been in a really, really long time, and G-d Almighty he can feel it right now.

Sharon’s house is now a club. Bucky doesn’t really like clubs. The pounding of the music is relentless, the noise of the people unending. Conversations and laughter and bodies and the smells of a hundred perfumes, a hundred alcohols, a hundred body chemistries. It’s too much, hefeels too much.

He can’t even taste the alcohol. That’s how overwhelmed he is.

But he’s got a fucking job, and he’s going to fucking do it even if it kills him. Which, it probably will, because he’s keeping Zemo alive, and Zemo has no intention to return the favor.

It’s fine. Bucky knows it. He can deal with that later, once the mission’s done. It’s not something he needs to burden himself with right this instant. There’s way too much for him to deal with already. Sam, Sharon, the noise, the smells.

The sights are alright, it’s dark in here and his eyes adapted almost instantly to that.

Truth is, he’s hungry too. He hasn’t been eating enough since he left the States. He let himself forget it, he let himself refuse the extra food offered. It’s an old habit he can’t seem to break. When someone offers him more than the initial serving, he says no.

That food can go to someone else that needs it more than him, that’s what his mind tells him every time. May they be Wakandan children or Brooklynite ones. He doesn’t need the extra food, he’s strong enough to go a little hungry and still work to make sure no one else does. He’s a welterweight anyway.

The second he gets out of this house, he’s getting himself enough satay to feed a small army. And he’s not sharing.

He’s too hungry not to think of food. But the smells around him make him want to puke.

He needs to focus.

Sam isn’t far, he can feel it. He’s too hyper aware right now not to feel where the American soldier stands, a little awkward, a little out of place. Did he go to clubs often when he was younger? What were they like in Louisiana? Sam’s good-looking. He must have been an appreciated visitor. Was it something he enjoyed doing? Bucky never asked. To be fair, he never asked anything.

He knew Sam had a sister. It was in the intel Hydra gave him when they realized Steve had that strange pilot by his side. A sister, Sarah Morris, a brother-in-law, Antoine Morris, one nephew Antoine Jeremy Morris.

He now knows there’s a second nephew, Cass, and he knows Antoine Morris died, and he knows Sam’s family has a boat. It’s not enough. He asked the guy to follow him into a fucking pirate island, for fuck’s sake. He should know more.

His eyes catch movement and he’s grateful for the distraction it causes from the devouring guilt in his stomach.

Zemo’s dancing. His motions are stiff, inelegant. Not that Bucky’s would be much better. He hasn’t danced since 1943. It’s still strange to see. It feels robotic. Did Zemo attend a lot of clubs growing up as some young noble of an Eastern European country? Before he joined the Sokovian army and rose up the ranks fast enough to be an established commander and colonel by age 37?

The Asset never had to deal with Zemo directly, therefore Bucky has no information on him. He’s pretty sure he killed one of his wife’s uncles once, but that’s as far as it goes. He was never a direct target, he was never anything but a random, far away name, a footnote.

He didn’t need to be told what happened exactly to Zemo’s family. He heard the man was Sokovian and that was enough. Bucky saw Sokovia fall from where he was in Austria, on the tracks of his own past. He saw the large cloud in the sky. He didn’t need more to know that it was a world-ending sort of catastrophe.

“The Winter Soldier’s back in town,” someone says to Bucky’s left and he shifts. Has he been recognized, again? Is this going to put Sharon’s entire operation in even more danger?

“Yeah, at the Brass Monkey. My brother saw him fight. Took out ten men in 30 seconds.”

“That guy’s a machine.”

They have no fucking idea, do they? The two people chatting about him start moving, walking in his direction and Bucky tenses. Their eyes stop on him for a second. There is no reaction. They just keep walking.

They haven’t recognized him. With this jacket on, covering the arm, no one has recognized him. That’s been the line he’s walked on since he came back to civilian life. If his arm is hidden, no one recognizes him.

The Winter Soldier is an aesthetic.

A man with a metal arm is only that, especially in the enhanced land of Madripoor. A man with a metal arm and a harness is kinky. A man with a metal arm, a harness and who obeys to Russian: that’s the Winter Soldier.

His skin color allows him to blend into the background of every picture. He’s unremarkable, when he doesn’t want to be.

And right now, in this room, he’s just a white guy with a metal hand, if someone is looking. And no one really is. He exhales deeply. Sometimes, he is grateful for the anonymity of the aesthetic, grateful that unless he’s doing something specific, no one will recognize him. Sometimes, he hates it. He’s a wolf in a dollar-store costume and all the sheep are oblivious.

Fuck, Bucky needs a smoke. Or six. He orders another of the clear alcohol glasses again. Thank Sharon and her open bar policy for him. She must have known he’d consume the equivalent of two bottles of vodka tonight. After all, she was a close friend of Steve’s for more than two years.

Steve was never much of a drinker, but she probably knows supersoldier physiology enough. And she knows Bucky’s a drinker, the same way Zemo is. You gotta take what pleasure you can have, no matter how small it is.

Bucky still can’t taste that alcohol.

“You know anyone in the powered business?” someone asks, upstairs, right above where Bucky is swallowing liquid.

“Man, that’s the Power Broker’s turf,” another replies. Bucky can’t see either of them, but there’s a thick rolling accent in their voice, something… Arabic. He can’t place it quite yet. He might be able to, given some time.

“I know, I know, but there’s new enhanced popping up all around,” the first voice tries again. The accent is British, mated with something else, a slight clicking sound. “I’m sure the big guy won’t mind one or two ending up with someone else.”

There’s a shuffling noise, a fist bumping into a leathery jacket, the sound easily recognizable. “Listen. None of my business. We don’t fuck with the Power Broker interests or we get a warrant on our heads. I like my head.”

They move away in a loud clinking noise and when they start talking again, they’re too far for even Bucky’s ears to pick up. Interesting. They might just be talking about the FlagSmashers. The Supersoldier population multiplied by at least three times in the past couple of months.

Maybe there’s something else too, but it’s not a priority. Might just be a newly discovered bunch of Inhumans. The epidemic was over eight years ago, soon after the fall of Sokovia, while Bucky was in Europe. He remembers how careful he’d been to keep himself hidden, when people and the governments started looking for powered individuals. He remembers the constant need for control, the constant stress, looking over his shoulder.

A new crop of Inhumans surfacing now would make some noise, in the aftermath of the Blip. It would heighten the tension already closing and narrowing minds. When you’re trying to rebuild yourself after that kind of event, after the displacement, after the injustice caused by a giant alien, the newly-discovered alien-given powers of your neighbors would feel like a threat. Bucky knows that kind of mentality.

Something to keep an eye on, once they’re done, he guesses. Not that he’s allowed to keep an eye on anything.

He has no idea what will happen when he comes home. How will Lieutenant General Henricksen react to him switching teams without really asking for permission? He doesn’t know what kind of strings Walker pulled so Bucky could have free reign. He finds himself thankful for it, and he hates it.

He doesn’t want to owe a man like Walker. He doesn’t know what he promised Bucky would do in exchange for that change of hands holding his leash. He doesn’t want to find out. Whatever happened, he doesn’t want to find out.

Sharon coming to let them know she’s found Wilfred Nagel is the perfect distraction from that horrible line of thought, and Bucky follows her lead without question.

[dragonnan]

This is faaaar from a complete list and will be spotty at best but I’ve been pondering MCU characters a lot as I’ve been getting slowly back to work on my mega-fic.  I LOVE minor head canons.  Simple stuff like favorite foods or what music they listen to or were they ever a smoker or whatever whatever.  So I’m gonna give myself the challenge of crafting some head canon and anyone else is very welcome to dive in! (some things are already established via canon)

~ Ethnicity ~ Faith ~ Smoker ~ Alcohol ~ Favorite food ~ Favorite cookie ~ Favorite animal(s) ~ Favorite music ~

Tony Stark:  Ethnicity: Mixed European-American-Jewish (he refers to himself as a “mutt”) Faith: “No thanks” being the initial answer but if he feels like opening up he’ll admit to believing there’s likely “something” out there but at the same time figures that “something” stopped caring about humanity a long long time ago.  Smoker?  Never liked cigarettes but smoked a few cigars when he was younger due to Obie’s influence.  He never was a big fan but wanted to fit in with his mentor.  Alcohol: Influenced both by his father and Obie, Tony started drinking hard liquor semi-regularly as young as 14 (his Dad let him try his first sip at the age of 6).  He pretty much sticks with Scotch or Bourbon but is not opposed to cheap beer at a ball game.  In fact the cheaper the better - a requirement for any self-respecting American.  Favorite food: hot dogs.  Neither one of his parents cooked.  Breakfast and lunch were whatever whenever for all three of them but dinner? You better be sure you were at that table before the plates were set down or you could go without (and Tony got a slap from his father when he’d observed that rule only seemed to apply to him).  But on the nights he was sent to his room, Jarvis would slip upstairs, later, with a sandwich or, on really rough nights, a couple of hotdogs.  Favorite cookie: Those Christmas wreath ones made with cereal and marshmallow with the cinnamon candies.  Favorite animal(s): he likes all animals but if he had to pick one for a pet he’d get an iguana.  Favorite music: well duh lolol.   

Stephen Strange: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American (borrowed from Benedict Cumberbatch’s ethnicity and adding the American) Faith: Originally atheist but now closer to Buddhist.  Smoker:  Never.  Even prior to becoming a sorcerer he has always been conscious of what he takes into his body; especially given the history of cancer on his mother’s side of the family.  Alcohol:  Wine, occasionally, though he isn’t really a social drinker per-say.  Favorite food:  The spicy shrimp and pork dumplings from a Thai place in Midtown.  Favorite cookie: Hmmm.... not a big sweets guy but he won’t turn away a few ginger-pecan cookies with coffee.  Favorite animal(s): dogs - unequivocally.  He had a border collie growing up on his family farm in Nebraska.  Favorite music: please don’t make this poor man actually have to choose.  

Steve Rogers: Ethnicity: Irish (as per comics) Faith? Irish-Catholic (as per the comics).  Smoker? Prior to the serum there was no way he could safely do so with his health issues.  After he started traveling with the performers all of the girls in the group smoked and he tried it out a few times but never developed a taste for it.  Alcohol: he drank A LOT - easy enough to do as it never had any real effect on him.  He enjoys scotch and bourbon (a taste he picked up from hanging around Howard Stark).  Steve seems to low-key always have the munchies (like most enhanced) and once Tony picked up on that there are always a variety of snacks scattered here and there throughout the compound (also of benefit for Bruce, Peter, Thor, and, later, Bucky).  Steve’s favorite foods typically remind him of his mother’s cooking.  While they’d never had much (especially after his father died) his mom could do a lot with limited supplies.  She used to make a fantastic meat pie with ground beef or tongue.  He hates SPAM.  They ate it in the Army, constantly, and just the smell will occasionally send him back to those days and not in a good way.  Favorite cookie?  Oreos.  He can clean up a family sized pack in like 10 minutes.  Steve loves animals but is especially fond of horses and dogs.  There was a dog in his unit in WW2 and Steve, like most of the other men, would share bites of his rations with it.  Steve is nostalgic about music from the 40s but finds that 70s rock really resonates with him.      

Bucky Barnes: Ethnicity: Romanian-American (borrowing a little from Sebastian Stan’s ethnicity) Faith? Possibly agnostic.  Smoker? Heck yes - both cigarettes and cigars.  Like Steve, the serum he received (via Hydra’s experimentation) means he gets to dodge the detrimental side effects of smoking.  Alcohol: He likes to drink but is almost exclusively a beer drinker.  He has a big appetite but refuses to eat around others if he can at all help it.  His favorite food is corned beef with cabbage.  Steve’s grandmother was an Irish immigrant and would make it every Sunday before the war impacted rations.  Since both Bucky’s parents were dead he’d often have dinner with his best friend.  Also, unlike Steve, he actually likes SPAM.  But then, arguably, he isn’t terribly picky about food in general.  Favorite cookie: molasses.  Favorite animal(s): birds - eagles in particular - though he doesn’t look too deeply at the psychology of their ability to just fly away.  Needless to say a crafty observer might spot a former Winter Soldier tossing seeds towards the pigeons.  Favorite music: He’s pretty eclectic though he shies away from anything too loud like death metal.  He finds classical very soothing.       

Peter Parker: Ethnicity: Mixed American-Scandinavian-German-ish Faith: Protestant upbringing but unsure where he currently stands. If pressed he’d say he’s “leaving his options open” Smoker?  “Oh gross!” Alcohol: “Um, too young to drink, thanks! But if I WERE to... you know, try it just to taste it there was this mudslide at one of Flash’s parties that was super good...” Favorite food: spaghetti and meatballs.  Lots of meatballs.  Favorite cookie: chocolate chocolate chip with chunks.  Favorite animal(s): NOT spiders.  And NOT birds given how many rooftops he’s traversed layered in pigeon ick.  He’d probably say cats.  Favorite music: The B side of techno rock - especially Depeche Mode.

Peter Quill: Ethnicity:  Half mixed American and half celestial.  Faith: His Dad was a god and he killed him so he figures he probably isn’t on the best terms with the Big G God should He... or She... or Them... be out there.  Look he just wants to do his thing and cause a little trouble without mixing it up with any other celestial types but if they DO wanna throw down he’d like to point out that he’s 1 for 1 and willing to rumble.  Smoker: He would not say no to a really good cigar and may have possibly lifted a case from Yondu’s stash when he struck out on his own.  Alcohol:  Anywhere any time and in large quantities.  Favorite food:  A thick steakhouse bacon burger with potato chips right on the patty.  Extra cheese please!  Favorite cookie: He’s a simple guy with simple tastes.  classic chocolate chip no frills no fuss and fresh from the oven.  Favorite animal(s):  He likes dogs - who doesn’t like dogs?  But he really likes cows.  Just maybe don’t mention the burger thing.  Favorite music:    

Thor: He’s a Norse god of legend so I figure we can forego the ethnicity/faith questions lol.  Smoker: He has never understood this human custom nor has he felt any inclination to try it himself  Alcohol: Beer, mead, and anything capable of knocking him on his ass.  Favorite food:  chili with ghost peppers.  Though nowhere near as hot as the fire chilies of Muspelheim (which would be instantly fatal for humans so its just as well).  Favorite cookie: strawberry cheesecake with macadamia nuts.  Favorite animal(s):  It’s a tossup between bilgesnipe and whales.  Favorite music:  The mighty horns of battle!  He also enjoys old school country, much to Tony’s disgust.  The story aspect of that music is what appeals to him.

Bruce Banner: Ethnicity: Italian-American  Faith: Catholic in his childhood; currently Atheist or maybe agnostic.  Smoker: He tends to avoid any substances for, you know, obvious reasons.  Alcohol: See previous.  Favorite food:  Waffles with sliced mango.  Favorite cookie: Oatmeal.  Favorite animal(s):  Mantis shrimp - “did you know they can generate so much power in their attacks that they can briefly super-heat the water up to 7,700 °C??”  Favorite music:  Indian- especially Krishna Bhajan.    

Clint Barton: Ethnicity:  Mixed European-American and Panamanian.  Faith:  His parents were both Protestant but he’s never latched on to any specific faith and hasn’t really devoted a lot of thought on the matter.  He has a sorta loose idea of “maybe something out there” but that’s all the further he’s gotten on the subject.  What he tells anyone who asks it’s that his religion is coffee.  Smoker: Briefly when he was a teen.  Alcohol:  Beer - he’s a fan of dark lager.  Favorite food:  Coney Island dogs, Pizza, and pickle flavored potato chips.  Favorite cookie:   Monster cookies with the mini M&Ms.  Favorite animal(s): Dogs  Favorite music:  80s rock and some country.

Natasha Romanoff: Ethnicity:  Russian.  Faith:  She was not given much choice when younger and was raised as “state atheist” (per comics).  In the years since escaping that life, however, she has tried to discover more about herself.  Her parents were both Russian Jewish and there has been a pull to discover more about that faith - especially since meeting Wanda - who is Jewish.  Smoker:  No.  Alcohol: Some vodka - that’s a given.  But she actually prefers wine; and honestly her favorites are wine spritzers.  Favorite food:   Favorite cookie: Krumkake filled with creme and berries.  Favorite animal(s): Favorite music:  Overall she listens to a pile of little-known bands and whomever is playing at whatever bar in whatever city she happens to be in.  She also is a huge fan of old school Spice Girls.