#your honor hes just a little middle aged guy ok | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wannabemobwife · 4 years ago

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic

-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader

-Warnings: Language

-Words: 3.9K

Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.

*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.

Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.

Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Words: 3.9K

You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.

When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.

The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.

“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.

“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.

Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”

“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.

“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.

“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he

found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.

Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.

The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.

“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.

“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.

“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.

“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.

“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.

“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”

“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.

Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.

You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.

“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.

“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face

“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.

“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.

“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.

“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.

How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.

“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.

“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.

“No you are, just in a different way.”

“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.

“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown

“Yes, of course.”

Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.

“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.

“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.

“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.

Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.

“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.

“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.

Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”

“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.

“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.

“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.

“It’s alright mate, I get it.”

They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.

“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.

“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.

“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.

“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.

“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.

“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.

“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.

“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.

Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.

“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.

“Several times actually,” you said.

“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.

The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.

“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.

“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”

“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.

“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.

“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.

“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.

Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.

Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.

“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.

“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.

“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.

“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.

“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.

“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.

“Connor, not helping.” Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.

Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”

Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.

“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.

“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.

“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.

“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.

“Neither do I.”

“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.

“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.

“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.

“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.

“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.

“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.

“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.

“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.

“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.

Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”

“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.

“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house

“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.

“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.

“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.

“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.

“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.

“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.

The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.

“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.

“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.

“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.

“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.

“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.

Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.

“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.

“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.

“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.

“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.

“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.

“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.

So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.

“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.

“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.

“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”

“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.

“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.

“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.

It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.

“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.

“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.

“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response

“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.

“Yes, love” Tom said.

“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”

“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.

He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”

It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Dad!Mob!Tom Holland #Mob!Tom #mobster #Mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x reader

158 notes · View notes

rachaelswrites · 4 years ago

Text

On Set Romance

Louis Partridge x Stan!reader

Word Count: 1,076

Requested by: Anonymous

I think Louis x Stan! reader might be cute!! Maybe she was in Enola Holmes with him

Maybe Louis x Stan! reader where they are doing press for enola holmes and Sebastian comes with her and sees how flirty they are with each other. Maybe he talks to her and tells her that they would be a cute couple idk. He just gives me chill dad vibes 😂

A/N: I kinda combined those two ideas. Reader plays Enola (no hate to Millie) and also no corona

You had gotten the acting gene from your dad and at this point in your life, you were very grateful for it. You arrived for your first day on the set of Enola Holmes. It was your first time playing a lead in a movie. You had large roles in other movies, but they were indie films like ones your dad was in. You were super excited to meet huge Hollywood actors that weren’t cast mates of your dad. You were also excited to meet someone your own age.

You met Louis at his audition and instantly clicked with him. Then you two had a screen test and it was a hit. You talked with him almost everyday until you got to set. The first thing you did was run around to try and find him. “Louis!” you yelled from across the lot. He turned around to see you.

“Y/n!” he yelled back. You ran to greet him and hugged him. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. When you hugged him, you couldn’t help but feel some butterflies. He felt the same. While filming, you two got even closer and everyone thought you were together by the end. Even your dad said something about it. He was filming in Paris while you were in London, so he got to take time off each week to see you. “By the end of this Y/n, you’re gonna replace me with Louis. I won’t be the number one man in your life,”

You rolled your eyes, “Dad I could never replace you,”

Almost a year later, Louis and you had to do press. Both of you now had full crushes on each other but never acted on it. You just flirted with each other, hoping someone would make a move. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially by Sebastian.

Sebastian decided to go with you on the press tour. He loved watching you talk about something you were passionate about. He also wanted to keep an eye on you. Sooner or later, you and Louis would end up together.

Louis was sitting next to you in the interview room. While waiting, you two kept making jokes and poking fun at each other. Sebastian was in another room with your publicist, watching. Once the interviewer entered, you both put on a professional front, but it didn’t last long. The week before, Louis accidentally stepped on your foot while you were answering a question. You laughed too hard and messed up the question so in retaliation, you did the same. This started a little game you guys did in the middle of interviews. In the first five minutes, you had to apologize for laughing during a question.

“So, Y/n, when you first met Louis, what was your initial reaction?” the interviewer asked. Louis looked at you.

“Uh well I thought he was a perfect fit for the role. I met him at his audition and then we instantly clicked. Even if he didn’t get the part, I think I still would’ve found a way to be close to him,” you blushed the whole time while answering. Louis had a dopey grin on his face as well.

“Well that’s all we have time for today. Thank you Louis and thank you Y/n,” you shook hands and she left the room. You reached down for your water bottle when Louis spoke.

“So, even if we weren’t co-stars, you’d still want to be friends?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Shut up Partridge,”

You had a few more interviews that day. When you finally finished, you and Louis walked back to the hotel you were staying in. You were in the same one but different rooms. Your dad trailed behind. A few times, your hands brushed against his and all you wanted to do was hold it. But you couldn’t. At least not yet. Once you reached your floor, you hugged him goodbye and watched him go to his room, while your dad unlocked the door. You entered the room and flopped on your bed. Sebastian sat on his and started taking off his shoes, “Do you know how hard you two were flirting with each other?”

You picked your head up from the pillows and looked at him, “What do you mean? We were not flirting. We’re just friends,”

Your dad scoffed, “Y/n seriously? I watched you two all day. At one point I wanted to yell at you to kiss him,”

“Dad! I can’t do that. It would be weird,” you said, sitting up and facing him.

“No it wouldn’t be. You two would be cute together,” he stood up and sat next to you, “You have my permission to ask him out,”

“What if he says no?”

“So you do like him?”

“That’s not the point Dad. What if he doesn’t like me back?”

“Trust me sweetheart. He does,”

The next morning at breakfast, you were sitting between your dad and Louis. You knew you wanted to ask him, but you were too nervous. Sebastian noticed your nerves and whispered to you, “You’ll be fine. If he breaks your heart, I’ll break his arm,”

You coughed and choked on your orange juice. “You ok Y/n?” Louis asked you. He put his hand on your shoulder.

You nodded. “Do you want to come with real quick? I forgot something in my room,”

He stood up and walked with you to the elevator. You stepped in behind him and pressed the buttons. You thought about what you were going to say. You figured you would just be blunt. You reached your door and made sure the hallway was empty before you spoke. “Louis. I need to tell you something,”

Louis looked worried. Maybe his flirting was bugging you. Maybe you didn’t like him like he liked you, “What is it?” he asked.

“I like you. Like a lot. And I just wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me sometime,” you looked down at the floor.

Louis relaxed and grabbed your hands. “Y/n Stan. I would be honored to go out with you,”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, “Really?”

He kissed you on the cheek, “Really,”

You walked back downstairs hand in hand. When Sebastian heard you giggling from behind him, he turned. He lit up when he saw you holding hands, “Finally! It’s about time you two,”

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @teenage-incompetence

#louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x daughter!reader #sebastian stan x teen #sebastian stan daughter #sebastian stan x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader

293 notes · View notes

karimac · 3 years ago

Text

…in the details, Part 3

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

Part 2

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 3,556

Well, that was not exactly the best idea, was it?

Dr. Darcy Lewis, unlike her colleague, Dr. Erik Selvig, was not a big fan nor an authority on any form of mythology. And the Irish history ask was a longshot at best.

So, here you were, in the coffee shop smack dab in the middle of Westview, talking to Dr. Lewis and getting nowhere fast.

“And, that’s not happening,” the astrophysicist grumbled as she set down her phone and took another sip of her beverage. It was some weirdly sweet concoction that looked like what humans thought rainbow-colored unicorn poop looked like. This world was not ready for what real magical beasts looked like. Most authors had not gotten all of that right in their books. No surprise there. No human really needed to see such things on a daily basis, and whoever had been the muses for those authors had covered up a lot.

“I take it Dr. Selvig has no clue on the Celtic Pantheon?” you asked as you sipped your very boring, light, non-sweet hot coffee. The barista probably wanted to laugh when you ordered it, but he did his best to stifle his snicker. “It was a very long reach on my part, Dr. Lewis. I’m sorry I roped you into this.”

“You can call me Darcy because you actually acknowledge my academic status,” the brunette said as she flipped her phone over again. “So, Thor is off in space. You don’t want me calling Falcon or his pal with the metal arm. Captain Marvel isn’t on your contact list. Ant Man and The Wasp? They can be sort of science geeks, right? Wait. Banner? Is he OK to call?”

Before you could open your mouth, Darcy was texting Banner off her own phone. “You know Bruce?”

“I met him at some meet and greet at MIT before the world went poof,” Darcy replied as she set her phone back down and seemed to be praying Banner would actually return her text. “Stark was there, too, but Banner was the one I got coffee with. Sweet guy, you know, even if he gets all green sometimes.”

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed a few people giving you odd looks. It made you very nervous. “Maybe we should finish up and get back on the road?” you asked Darcy as you quietly motioned toward the other patrons getting their daily fix of caffeine.

“Yeah, bubbe isn’t answering me anyway,” Darcy said as she picked up her phone and got up from her chair. By now there were several residents blocking the exit. “What is your problem? We paid. We’re busing our table. Then we’re leaving.”

“Are The Avengers going to hunt her down?” one woman in the back of the group asked as Darcy looked back toward you and mouthed the word “Help” before turning back to the crowd. The questioner was loud, but you couldn’t see her because of the big delivery man standing in front of her with a huge pile of Amazon packages. “Why did you come back?”

It was time to vamp. With an apparently faulty memory, this was going to be interesting.

“Before you all ask about what is going to happen regarding Wanda Maximoff, I want you all to know I have no authority to speak for The Avengers. I have never been a true member of the team. I helped them at a time when things were beyond bleak for this world. It was an honor and a privilege. But I am not a spokesperson. I am not a team leader.”

“Then why did you come here?” a man with glasses, holding a briefcase, asked from the line where he was waiting for his order. “Then and now?”

“I came the first time because I was looking for my friend. I was pulled into that nightmare just like you were. I wish I had been able to help her before any of this happened.”

“But you have powers, right? Couldn’t you have shut her down, hot stuff?” the first woman added as she moved to the front. Then you recognized her. Agatha Harkness. If Wanda kept her alive, there was a reason for it, and all the pain you had rising in your core had to be tamped down fast. Harkness had hurt Wanda, and that would have to be addressed one day. You were good at playing the long game.

“Taking her out in any sort of power stunt could have jeopardized your lives. I was not sure what she did to make it all happen, and I was not going to risk your lives. I’m sorry it wasn’t put to an end sooner. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to a meeting regarding the incident here,” you said as you and Darcy pushed through the crowd and back out to the street.

“OK, what was all that? Spin? Or are you remembering something?” Darcy asked as you got back into her car. You had left your rental on the outskirts of town. Better to travel as a unit until your business here was concluded.

“I remember a couple of things from that mess,” you said as you tried to keep your hands from shaking. “I remember Wanda and Vision’s sons. Billy and Tommy. I remember the house where I lived. Can we drive out to where Wanda had her house? Maybe that will help?”

Darcy pulled out of the parking space and made the lefts and rights to the lot where Wanda’s house had been. The one you were living in was in a lot right next to it. It was empty now, too, but you got out of the car anyway and stood in the center of the patch of dirt. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you tried to piece together what had happened. And then you started to cry as you fell to your knees.

“Whoa, slow down,” Darcy said as she ran and knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

“It’s weird. Wanda came over one day and more or less apologized to me because she couldn’t give me my real happy ending. I can show you, if you’ll let me…”

“Go into my mind?” Darcy protested before you could wave her off the idea. “No Vulcan mind melds for me today, thanks.”

“No, I carry this mirror, and you can see memories in it. Trust me, I do not use telepathy as a first line of anything. I tried it once, to help a friend, but it just caused more problems,” you groaned as you pulled the mirror out of your backpack. You waved your hand over it, and Darcy could now see what had happened with Wanda.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find them and bring them here,” the Sokovian said quietly as she walked around the 1980s version of what was your living room. It was way too pastel for your liking, but the hints of fuchsia, orchid and teal in the overall cream and light gray design weren’t so bad. You had a couple of cats there with you. One was an orange tabby with a penchant for eating tuna at any given moment. He was warm and affectionate and just a ray of sunshine dressed in fur. The other was as white as the driven snow, but his own cuddly disposition came through. He was the one who would leave you weird gifts every morning. Rocks, feathers, and yes, the occasional dead mouse would be at the foot of your bed each sunrise. You’d find out at the end of that nightmare that the cats were only constructs of Wanda’s chaos magic.

“I know you miss the three of them,” she continued as she pointed to a framed picture of Steve, Bucky and Sam, all decked out in appropriate 1980s clothes that made them look like they ran away from some cop drama. “It’s probably better that there aren’t too many Avengers here anyway. Vis is getting concerned. And this way, well, no one needs to know which one you would have chosen. I know. You know. So you can always talk to me. Like we did before. But I gave you the wedding ring to make sure no one came on to you. Just in case I can get him here soon.”

As you showed Darcy the memory, a tiny part of you was screaming that this whole scenario seemed wrong. You watched Wanda’s crimson glow float around you as she spoke. You vaguely remembered The Morrigan trying to kick some sense back into your addled brain, but Wanda’s world was much too enticing to let your other self come to the fore. You wanted the damned happily ever after with the husband and the house and everything that meant in the modern American ethos. You had rationalized things for years in such a way that you’d never let yourself get it. That was why no one was here to hug you at night like Wanda had Vision. Maybe that fact alone was enough to crack Wanda’s hold on you a bit more than she realized?

But you also had to admit that you wanted to be there for Wanda in case things went south. That much was clear from the moment you showed up in Westview the first time.

“How come you didn’t just zap her? Fight back?” Darcy asked as you fully shifted to the present day and paused the memory.

“Because she wasn’t wrong. I did miss Bucky, Steve and Sam. I missed Banner, too, because they were, in the end, the ones still here that cared if I lived or died. And Spider-Man. Which is random and weird, but he did. And frankly, what I said in the coffee shop was true. I had no idea what my powers would do to her spell. I could have leveled the town. That was not an option.”

“So, that Agatha woman…” Darcy started to say and then stopped. “Wait. That was her? In the coffee shop? That was why you were acting so weird?”

“Yeah. Wanda could have killed her or taken Agatha away with her to imprison her. She didn’t. After what Agatha tried to do to Wanda, to try and take her powers, Wanda had every right to finish her off. But Wanda doesn’t likely know all that yet. There are rules set up from ages ago. Things witches can and can’t do to each other under specific circumstances. So Wanda left her trapped here—for now anyway. But, whatever happened with them, it affected me, too. I got hit with stray magic blasts. I’m betting it messed up my powers in ways I didn’t realize. And maybe my memories as well.”

As Darcy knelt there, her phone finally chimed. It was some weird little R2-D2 chirpy beep, and she looked elated as she showed you the message. “Seems Bruce still cares if you are OK or not. I don’t think bringing him here is such a great idea…”

“Did anyone send him data about what happened here?” you asked as you got to your feet, pocketing some of the dirt from the lot before you stood up. “Air and soil samples? Readings from the residents?”

“I can get them for him. Trust me, Jimmy Woo and Monica Rambeau would be more than happy to help. I’m glad that loon Hayward seems to have gone into hiding or was hauled away to The Raft,” Darcy noted as she checked her phone again. “Seems the doc is working out of a Stark lab here in Jersey. Road trip?”

You really didn’t want to go see Bruce. You had no idea how you’d explain any of what you did to him.

++++++++++

You rehearsed what you planned to tell Bruce a million times in your mind as Darcy drove along the Garden State Parkway to a place called Woodcliff Lake. Stark Industries did indeed have a lab there, and it made you want to scream as you walked into the facility. You did not need yet another reminder that you could not save Tony Stark’s life at the end of that final battle with Thanos. That was part of why you were in this mess in the first place. It was also why you had a screaming fight with Stephen Strange, but no one else knew about that yet.

“Dr. Banner? We’re here!” Darcy yelled as you walked toward what had to be the research wing. The lack of security in the place was a bit disturbing, but then again, there were probably booby traps built into every square inch of the place. You could just hear Tony now as you got closer to the lab area. It would likely have been close to the speech you got the first time he talked to you at the compound.

“Hey! Lucky Charms! Don’t touch any of the expensive stuff. I guess that means don’t touch anything. I still have no idea why you are hanging around the team except that Steve wants you here for some reason. Maybe you’re tied to…his friend…and I just don’t want to face that? Still have issues with all of that, even if the man is dead. Pepper and Morgan said I should be nice to you, but I’m not quite there yet after what happened in Berlin. They are better people than I’ll ever be.”

“Earth to Kari?” you finally heard Bruce say as he waved his massive green hand in front of your face. Then he realized why you were likely spacing out. "Dr. Lewis, can we have a minute?”

“You can call me Darcy, if I can call you Bruce?” Lewis said as Banner nodded to her. “Cool. I’ll go find the little scientist’s room and be right back,” she added as she left the lab.

“So,” Bruce started as he pointed you toward a set of chairs at one side of the lab, “Darcy filled me in via text. I have no idea what happened with Wanda, and I know none of us know where she is. I did call a friend who wants to help,” he noted as a swirling circle of yellow light formed near the window that looked out over the parking lot. “I figured you’d listen to him, and he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

“What did you do?” Wong shouted as he exited the portal. “You usually listen to reason. Why did you go after Wanda all alone?”

“I went to help Wanda. She was hurting. She watched Vision die twice. She lost Pietro. I can relate to all that very, very well. My twin Branan died in front of my eyes, too, and I’ve buried two husbands. Both died in battle. I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But she…she hit all my vulnerable points. And she was under attack at the same time. From a woman named Agatha Harkness and from the director of SWORD. Some martinet named Hayward. He built another Vision. I think Hayward was using Wanda’s powers to bring him to life. Darcy is going to check in with some of the people who worked with her to get you more intel, Bruce.”

“Another version of Vision? Great,” Bruce muttered as he looked over at Wong. “As for this Harkness person…”

“The name rings very small bells, so I’ll need to do some research,” Wong noted as you bumped your left fist against your forehead. “What?”

“Harkness is a succubus. And she is old. Not as old as I am, but she is still a good 400 years old, give or take a day. She apparently survived the Salem Witch Trials. Wanda spelled her and left her in Westview. I think she is, at least in small ways, aware that her world is all wrong. I didn’t want to press it when I saw her in that coffee shop. We do not need an angry succubus flying around. Wong, they got into an aerial battle, and Wanda was using sigils, runes, whatever you want to call them, to focus her power. I think she picked that up from good old Aggie. I never showed her anything like that on purpose. I always suspected she had magic in her bones, but it wasn’t my place to start that fire. The bigger issue is that Wanda conjured up two children while she was there. She created cats for me, so anything is possible. I got knocked out by the end of the fight, so I have no idea what exactly happened in the end other than Wanda running off and Agatha being left behind for some reason.”

“And?” Wong asked as he started to look you up and down. “You did a spell? And it went bad? Your aura is all messed up.”

“I…I tried to do a spell so The Avengers would think of me less and less, and then eventually I’d just be a fleeting memory. I felt walking away in the dead of night, the thing I usually do when I am leaving town, would not be good enough. The spell got botched, and now I’m connected in some fashion to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Looking back at it, I spent more time with them in the days leading up to my departure. Steve and Bruce were there the day I left, and so were Sam and Bucky. And…I’m carrying a lot of guilt about Bucky after his accident in 1943.”

“All this on top of the magical circus Wanda made? Are you insane?” Wong yelled as he started to pace.

“And the fight I had with Stephen on the day of the battle. Yeah, I guess I am insane,” you replied as Wong threw up his hands. Bruce had gotten extremely quiet, and that was not a good thing.

“Before we get to dissecting your spell, Kari, was this because of what Tony said? About you not being an Avenger because you were…?”

“Unstable? Yes. And the fact I could not bring anyone back from the grave, especially during that last battle. And the fact about who killed his parents. Buck did while under Hydra control. Steve found out and never told Tony. I ran into The Winter Soldier a few times over the decades, so there was the chance I could have prevented their deaths, too. Tony really had no reason to ask me to join the band.”

“Once we get your spell problem sorted, then we will address this, too,” Bruce said as he looked toward Wong and shook his head. “I loved Tony like a brother, but he was wrong…”

You winced a few times as you tried to listen to Bruce and Wong, now joined once again by Darcy, as they tried to figure out how to fix or reverse that spell, and they hashed out what might have happened to you during that first trip to Westview. You were really trying to focus on their questions, but you felt a tug that no one else could ever have possibly felt.

“Baltimore,” you mumbled as you pulled out your cellphone and debated texting the person you felt tugging at that damned invisible string. No. That would have ended badly, especially since your original spell had gone haywire.

“Bucky Barnes was arrested?” Darcy asked as she showed you her phone alert. “I bet he punched that new fake Cap in the nose. Sorry, but that guy looks like he has no clue. I saw him on Good Morning America. Total cheese fest.”

“Wait. What?” you asked as you took her phone. “Sam didn’t keep the shield? I just hope Bucky didn’t punch Sam and wind up in jail for that!” You gave Darcy back her phone and looked at yours again. It was buzzing. “Anyone here know who the hell is Christina Raynor?” you asked the trio in front of you. No one had any clue about that. You hit the speaker button as you answered the call.

“Hello? Ms. MacOrish. I’m James Barnes’ therapist, Christina Raynor. Sam Wilson said I should give you a call and ask you to join us in Baltimore. As quickly as possible, if you can. I don’t think Mr. Barnes wants to spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Oh no, you are not going to Baltimore,” Wong said as he crossed his arms and got a stern look on his face. “Not while your head is all over the place. You could portal to Baltimore in the 1800s for all you know. You could end up eating lunch with Lord Baltimore in the 1700s. You really shouldn’t do this.”

“Wong, what better place for me to go than to see a therapist?” you said with a smirk as you opened your own portal, this one a lovely shade of emerald green, that went to where Raynor was waiting for you—outside an interrogation room at the city jail.

“Mr. Wilson said you’d be fast. He did not tell me you were one of the powered class,” Raynor said as you went through the portal, looking back to wave briefly as you heard Darcy’s last comment.

“What about your rental car?”

#avengers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #sam wilson x oc #bruce banner x oc #wong x oc #darcy lewis x oc #avengers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bruce banner #wong mcu #darcy lewis #my mcu oc #my ocs are my babies #my oc writing

17 notes · View notes

northlight14 · 3 years ago

Text

Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving.

Reblogs >>> likes

#sander sides #pridewrite2021 #fanfic #pw alt 4 #tw cursing #tw breakup mention #tw crying #tw alchol mention #tw violence mention #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #platonic prinxiety #creativity twins #creativitytwins #roceit #roceit angst #past roceit

33 notes · View notes

dclevinson · 3 years ago

Text

August 21: my kaddish month

I’ve sent this to a number of people, but I’m putting it here too in case some readers who might be interested will stumble across it:

A little more than a month has passed since Cindy died, and I get asked a lot how I’m doing. My standard answer starts with a couple ways of framing:

--- the earthquake is over, but there are lots of unpredictable emotional aftershocks

--- I’m past the Shock & Numbness phase, but normal life doesn’t seem normal. Lots of How Can This Be Real moments that can be disorienting and distressing

--- many times emotions collide: how much to lean into or away from grief, how to feel it’s OK to feel OK when I do, how keep her with me and move forward too, etc

I suppose at some point a fascination with grief can start to make others uncomfortable, but grieving has a logic of its own. One key part of “after” life was the 30 days of daily religious services I attended to honor her memory. I found the routine and --- surprisingly, the ritual --- spiritually nourishing. Cindy’s eyebrows always shot up at the word “spiritual.” Usually mine too. I hope those of you I send these four pages to don’t find it too tedious Perhaps it’s a way of keeping Cindy in your thoughts and hearts too…

I am a most unlikely daily mourning ritual observer. I didn’t do it for my father, and he asked us not to. But the ritual mourning prayers and the place where I’d be doing it meant a lot to Cindy, so I just committed without much deliberation. One problem in writing about a fairly traditional type of observance is that the spectrum of Jewish religious practice can be mystifying, even to many Jews. So how explain it to outsiders? I’ve tried to do it without being either too reverent or irreverent.

One basic mourning commitment is to say “kaddish”, the mourner’s prayer, for a set amount of time. Jewish practice and custom is intellectually intricate and often arcane; there are rules and exceptions to rules and different interpretations of rules, etc. There are other customs/demands for remembrance too. Many think of saying kaddish as a year long commitment. Plus yearly anniversaries, set to a moving Hebrew calendar --- just to add to the degree of difficulty. But even the year thing has permutations: actual practice for some groups is 11 months, not 12.

Why?. Different interpreters and communities make their own choices on duration. Our ritual director says “eleven.” Basically, some 13th century source says that “the wicked in Gehinom took 12 months for their souls to reach the highest levels of heaven.” But most Jews don’t even believe in a physical heaven!? Never mind. So, the reasoning goes, if the wicked took 12 months, we’ll mourn for 11: because our beloved Was Not Wicked. Welcome to Talmudic reasoning. But, traditionally, the year(ish) is for parents and children. For spouses the allotted time is 30 days. Though many people today may just do a year for anyone in the family. Thirty struck me as the perfect amount for the act to stay meaningful, helpful and not something I would treat as an increasingly resented chore.

It’s not a prayer that religious custom allows you to say by yourself. You need a minyan (quorum) of 10. It used to be men, but now men or women, at least at our conservative temple (shul, synagogue, whatever --- more insider confusing terminology). But some do say it by themselves for the comfort it brings if finding a group is too arduous. And I cheated a couple days by joining the group virtually. But I found being with a gathering of supporters did matter to me. I could have gone to a shorter evening service to do this, but preferred the morning time. And came to think a 40ish minute observance time a good block to have meaningful daily impact.

And then there’s the prayer itself. I realized right away that the weekday morning prayer service had many different kaddishs, similar prayers of thanks for and praise to a divine entity. But there’s one specific mourner’s version, said 3 times in oour short 40ish minute service. Twice, almost in succession at the end --- overkill or emphasis, depending on your point of view. Why the repeats? Haven’t pursued that yet. And, as some of you know, the prayer for the dead doesn’t mention dying or losing loved ones or honoring their memory, etc. It just profusely praises God (and lots of different words or phrases to refer to such entity since he/she/it is too holy and all powerful to mention the Real Name). Some phrases: “May god’s name be exalted and hallowed, his sovereignty soon accepted… glorified, celebrated, lauded, worshiped, exalted, honored, extolled and acclaimed… Lots of current Jewish religious practice incorporates the Middle Ages wholesale. Or earlier. Read the English on the facing page of the prayer book and much of the service sounds like the practice of a small, threatened tribe huddling in the desert thousands of years ago.

There’s a lot about Jewish practice that seems natural and essential to practitioners but might alienate the uninitiated. Or reluctant observers like me. The head coverings. The shoulder covering prayer shawls. The standing for this (many do: why not all??!), turning right for that, covering eyes for this line, fingering prayer shawl strings (tzitzit) for that. Whew. So many prayers and practices for so many different occasions. Designed, I’ve thought, to cement the devotion of believers. But it repel skeptics, too, I surmise.

One such example: in these early services most men put on tefillin. Leather straps with little black boxes attached (a prayer inside) that have very specific wrapping/unwrapping procedures for arms and head. It’s deeply moving to believers, but I’ve always thought it look repellent or ridiculous. Way too much like the garb of the ultra orthodox “crazies.” There are lots of I’ll do this/not that decisions in religious practice. I understand there’s a tenuous dynamic that exists between any minority and majority community, and clinging to tradition and being true to oneself can seem preferable to “selling out” to fit in. But sometimes it strikes us skeptics as more a clinging to “guns and religion” type intransigence.

So, if you walked in on these services cold (I was lukewarm), there’s lots that would be pretty mystifying and potentially off-putting. How could you possibly fit in? In fact, I believe I was the only new guy or gal over my month. And there had to be a decent number of temple members who have lost family members during the time I attended. Seemingly no person younger than I was doing the morning kaddish thing. And usually I was the only or 1 of 2 who didn’t put on tefillin. Men. Women usually don’t. Though one of our female rabbis did. Good for her, though I wasn’t tempted to follow.

I could fit in and feel comfortable at these services because a) I knew people there b) I was committed to being there and c) people took care of me. I no longer bristled at the imputation (real or just in my head?) that I’m a Bad Jew and I need instruction to be a Good One. This time I felt many there had cherished Cindy, understood why I was there, and quietly welcomed me. I was willing to look/be ignorant and accept guidance.

It was reassuring to see many of Cindy’s compatriots from the temple sisterhood there day after day too. The whole group (20 to 40 most days) was interesting to observe: lots more joking and side conversations during the service than I’d imagined. And there was the guy older than I who usually wore cycling shorts and shirt, the much older guy who sat to my right who usually shuffled in 15 minutes late, etc etc. Lots of accomplished people and interesting stories for another writer’s version. And --- most days --- someone called out the pages so I had some sense where we were.

I can read Hebrew if I already know the prayer or chant. So I can’t really read Hebrew anymore. Much of the service is praising God’s amazing powers, thanking him for singling out and helping Jews (don’t let anti-Semites see this!), an intricate mix of different intricate sections that over days start to fit a pattern. There are a always some bits in any prayer book that I find edifying and worth recalling; often I’m reading in one place when the service is in another. My favorite in this one:

Rabbi Schuel ben Nahmani said: We find that the Holy One created everything in the world; only falsehood and exaggeration were not God’s doing. People devised those on their own.

There’s no sermon on any days, just the chanting. And different melodies for different sections. And torah reading ritual (I could spend pages on this alone) Monday and Thursday. I still have to learn why those days. I preferred the shorter days without.

I was most fortunate to have a long time neighbor and, like Cindy, long time temple leader who I was delighted to learn (only some 30 some years later) is a regular attendee of daily morning services. Like Cindy, he has the ability I don’t to take what’s worthwhile in religious practice and ignore the rest. He credits Cindy with his reading the new alternate section of one prayer praising the Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob) by adding Matriarchs too.

It’s not supposed to be used at this particular service, but a couple women who led services on a rotating schedule snuck it in. Much to my friend Rick’s and my glee. He joked about wanting to write: Minyan, the Musical. Have to decide how reverent or irreverent to be I replied. Yes he said, and some would love it, some hate it. Like so much else in life, I thought.

There’s way more I could describe: the various “honors” during torah reading for one. Early on I got congratulated for pulling the strings to open the torah ark/cabinet. Basically, the only task our ritual director could be sure at that point I wouldn’t flub. One more key detail: I was wearing Cindy remarkable hand knit prayer shawl. Which, of course, many of her friends recognized. Once I made the mistake when taking it off at the service end of holding it to my face: way too emotional to repeat daily. Much more detail I could include, but there’s likely already too much. Ask me if you want more.

I was asked to say a few words on the last day, right before the concluding prayers. I told people I was a most unlikely minyan attendee, etc. Grateful for this and that person’s help and Rebbe Rick’s (joke) guidance and company. Uplifted seeing Cindy’s sisterhood comrades, etc. Hoped in coming months to find an enduring way to honor her memory, etc.

My one specific observation: I had been hearing people recite kaddish at Saturday services off and on for over 60 years. But I’d never given a thought to the brief parts where the congregation joins in on a quick line. Just part of the practice I’d heard without really hearing. Until I was the mourner. Then, on many days when the congregation joined in…

Y’he sh’meh rabbvo m’orach l’olam ulolmey olmayo…

…on many days I felt my heart lifting and a wave of emotional support wash over me. This is why you should say kaddish in a minyan if at all possible. Or I hope in your tradition or life there’s some equivalent thing to bring you comfort when/if you need it. Em and I have been lighting candles at a set time each week also. That works for us too.

The morning group skews old. But I hope that such a group is always there for anyone who needs it. I don’t want to attend any religious services daily. Or weekly. But this is my favorite service. I’ll be back. But on a day they don’t read torah. Forty minutes is plenty.

I decided, too, that on day 30, I would take off my wedding ring. I sensed that if I didn’t tie that act to a ritual I might have a hard time doing it.

6 notes · View notes

2460nodone · 3 years ago

Text

Hell is a Relative Term (1/2)

Title: Hell is a Relative Term Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Supernatural/Romance Published: 05-21-13, Updated: 05-22-13 Chapters: 2, Words: 9,662

[Part I] [Part II]

Summary: Eponine is one of the few who stand between humanity and hell, sworn to fight evil and protect the helpless, even if it costs her her own life. Vampire slayer!Eponine. e/e. Rated for language/content

Original author’s note: Ok guys, here we go with fic #2 for the Fic War on tumblr! This one was a prompt from tumblr user poeticbibliophile: "Modern AU prompt? One line for you, m'amie — 'Are you afraid of the good you can do?' from Les Miz, V. Hugo. Tag me if you chose this. TY!"

Part I

What if I told you the stories were true?

What if you knew that there really are things that go bump in the night? Things that live under your bed and in your closet just as much as they live in your mind, things that stalk you in the dark and prey on your terror? That all the monsters your parents ever promised you were pretend exist? That sometimes, people die, evil wins, and that the light cannot always banish your fears?

The world was hell.

There was no other way to put it.

No one really knew why these creatures existed, but they did. They ruled the night, mauling and feasting and terrorizing the population all the world over. It had always been this way; God had long ago forsaken the world and its inhabitants. Hell had swallowed Earth, and its demons walked with sorry humanity.

But there were people to fight it. Men and women, chosen for their strength, their character, their skill. They were given tasks, they learned the weaknesses of the different creatures, and eventually specialized in one specific type of Hellbeast.

"Eponine!" a voice shouted.

A young woman, olive-skinned, brown-eyed and dark-haired, stopped short, closing her eyes in trepidation before slowly turning.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," the man said sternly. He was middle-aged, with a close-cropped, graying haircut and a beard that matched. "I want you to patrol tonight."

The girl, Eponine, clenched her jaw. "I promised my brother I would be home tonight. He needs me. You have Musichetta, send her instead."

"Don't question me," he scolded. "I'm sending you."

When Eponine opened her mouth to protest, the man cut her off. "You are a vampire slayer, Jondrette. This is your job. This is your duty. You were chosen to protect the people of the world, and you will patrol tonight."

"One of those people I have to protect is my brother, Javert," she snapped. She loved the man, but he so frequently forgot that she was one of the rare slayers who had people at home to take care of. She had yet to lose everything, and she planned on keeping it that way. "I have a duty to him, too. And I promised him I would be there tonight. Send Musichetta instead."

Without waiting for his response, Eponine turned on her heel. She knew that Javert would probably punish her later for her insubordination, but she didn't care. Gavroche needed her.

Eponine was a vampire slayer. One of few slayers, in fact. Most of the women who became slayers died young.

It was not a fate she coveted.

In fact, she hated everything this life. But she had been chosen, as Javert constantly reminded her, by a power bigger than herself. And since he was her Guardian – the Guardian of all the slayers in this quadrant – and essentially her boss, it was he she answered to.

She was on the train, headed home to her brother. The dark world rushed by her, and she wondered how many vampires were out and active tonight.

She hated them with a burning passion. When they Turned, they kept their souls, but the bloodlust was so intense that they rarely heeded what little remained of their consciences. Eventually, most lost themselves in the Hunger or went insane from the guilt of what they did when their urges were unbearable. Most that she had met, however, loved killing. She had yet to meet a truly guilty vampire.

True to legend, they could not be in sunlight, and a stake to the heart or a clean swipe of the head from the shoulders would kill them immediately. Crosses, churches, hallowed ground – all unbearable to them. They couldn't even speak the name of God; that's how damned they were. They were vicious, evil creatures, and she wanted nothing more than to kill them all.

She hated being a killer, but she loved the fight, loved the moment when they lost. She would watch them victoriously, almost arrogantly, as they died in front of her. It gave her a rush, and afterwards, she would run through the streets, high on adrenaline, hungry and horny and happy.

She would find Montparnasse when she could, but otherwise she would grab a burger and indulge at least one of her urges until the high wore off and the real world crashed down on her again.

Several weeks later found Eponine back on patrol and deep in the throes of combat with a vampire. She could almost taste her victory when she felt, rather than saw, the presence of more of the loathsome bloodsuckers.

Panic bubbled up in her; she faltered and was knocked to the ground. She could feel blood trickling down from her brow, and her opponent, standing above her now, bared his teeth menacingly. She was surrounded

"Good job, little 'un," a grating woman's voice cooed.

Eponine felt her insides go cold. From her place on the ground, she stared up into the eyes of her mother.

She had hated her parents when they were alive, and had not been surprised when the police showed up one night, delivering the news of their deaths. She was, however, surprised when she saw them months later, their faces twisted as they sucked a woman dry.

But that was years ago, well before she was a slayer.

"Hello little Eponine," the creature that was once her mother sang.

Eponine pounced, fighting like a madwoman. But she was outnumbered; she only managed to slay the original vampire she was battling before she was repeatedly beat down… by her mother and her father and the rest of their gang.

Her father wrenched her head back by her hair, exposing her neck. This is it, she thought, fighting against those who were pinning her to the ground. I'm about to become another dead slayer.

The vampire broke her skin with his teeth, followed on the other side by her mother, and Eponine heard herself cry out. It all seemed to be happening from somewhere else; she knew and understood that she was dying, but she couldn't feel it, barely noticed it. Heaviness spread through her body, and her eyes began to get heavy.

Just before they closed, she became aware of a movement to her left. Her mother was ripped away from her neck.

Then everything went black.

When Eponine woke, she felt like she had been out drinking all night. Her body was heavy, her head was pounding, and she felt sick.

When her eyes adjusted to the daylight seeping in through a crack in the curtains, she looked around – turning her head slowly so as to prevent the exaggeration of her nausea and headache.

The room was simple, bare. There was some framed art on the gray walls, though her eyes were too weak to make out the pictures. A small flatscreen TV was on a small bookshelf that was packed with more books than DVDs, and even more books were piled on the dresser near the bed, as well as on the nightstand next to her. Those, she could make out: The World According to Garp, an anthology of the works of Sartre, Catch-22.

The bedspread was red, the sheets were white. Thick, black curtains were pulled together, though a ray of bright sunlight streamed through a crack.

Where was she?

Eponine wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was several pages into The World According to Garp (whoever lived here had great taste in literature – this was one of her favorite books) before a gentle knock rapped on the door and it opened.

A man stepped in. Tall, curly blonde hair, casually dressed in dark jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt (that gave her a peek of just a little hair on his chest below a defined collarbone), and a black jacket. He was like a marble statue come to life. His eyes, she noticed, were impossibly blue, and his face was achingly handsome. A small bit of stubble covered his jaw and the top of his neck. She had no idea whatsoever who he was.

"How are you feeling?" the man asked. Eponine, in spite of herself and the weirdness of the situation, found that she liked his voice.

Instead of answering – Eponine hated answering direct questions, especially when she didn't know the inquirer – she countered, "Who the hell are you, and how did I get here?"

The man perched himself on the edge of the bed, purposefully staying as far from her as he could. Still, he smirked at her. "I saved your life last night, Slayer. You were outnumbered by the Thénardier Coven, and they would have killed you."

Eponine glared at him. "They took me by surprise," she grumbled. Then, "How did you know I'm a slayer?"

The man snorted. "You slayers wear your rank like a badge of honor. It's impossible not to know."

Eponine actually felt a little affronted, even though he had answered the question lightly.

He shrugged, apparently aware of the insult, and added, "Plus I was watching you."

"What?" she asked, dumfounded and staring at him.

The man grinned again. "I was following the Thénardier Coven, and so were you. You fell for their bait, you know. They were planning to ambush you. You should be more careful," he admonished.

Eponine raised her chin indignantly, but said nothing.

"Yeah, you would've died if it weren't for me," he continued.

He was actually fishing for a thank you. She couldn't believe it.

"Slayers are only women," she pointed out, ignoring his comment.

He ignored hers as well. "You're sleeping in my bed, you know. I saved your life, brought you back here at my own personal risk, nursed your wounds. A 'thank you' wouldn't be unwelcome," he said pointedly. It angered her that he seemed to find all of this so humorous.

She sniffed, realizing that he wouldn't talk about anything else unless she voiced her gratitude. "Thank you," she said tightly.

He smiled. Dear god that was a beautiful smile. "Why, you're welcome," he deadpanned.

"Now, who are you? Where am I?" she asked impatiently.

The man frowned. "You may stay as long as you need. At least, until you are well enough to make it home. Get some rest, and I'll bring you some food. You need your strength," he said, ignoring her questions. He stood, reaching the door in two short strides.

"Why won't you answer me?" she asked, before he could take his leave.

He stopped, hand on the doorknob, the door partially open. Then he shrugged, turning back towards her and seriously replying, "This is the last time you'll ever see me, so it doesn't matter." Then he was gone.

Montparnasse was a vampire.

What was worse, he now belonged to the Thénardier Coven. They were the most violent of the covens in this part of the world, and the most deadly. But also one of the biggest.

Javert had lost many a slayer trying to eradicate their ranks, their power.

Eponine was determined not to become one of them. Especially since she was the human daughter of the clan leaders.

But Montparnasse had been her last friend from her old life. He was in love with her, as a human, but he knew she was uninterested in him, even before she had become a slayer. Still, he had let her use him (not that he didn't console himself with some on the side, anyway – he was no virtuous man).

She felt guilty about how she had treated him now, though. He hadn't deserved to be used for sex. He was a good looking guy, and could've found someone who might have loved him back, even if he had some issues with alcohol and was kind of a klepto.

Eponine found that she was crying as she drove the stake into his heart. She hadn't noticed during their fight, as she was far too entranced by their dance to the death. But she would not lose.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him as he died.

This time, she felt neither hungry nor happy, and definitely was not horny.

It was Montparnasse that she had gone to for that reason. And here she was, responsible for his death, in so many more ways than just this one.

When she looked up, tears flowing freely from her eyes, she thought she saw a flash of blue eyes and blonde hair disappearing into the shadows, but she couldn't be sure.

Marius, Azelma, and Gavroche were the only good things in her life anymore.

She had met Marius not long after becoming a slayer, and had fallen in love with him almost immediately. Sometimes when she had gone to Montparnasse, it was because she wanted Marius, and she could close her eyes with the other man and pretend that he loved her too.

The thought caused a wave of guilt to flow through her body. The hurt of Montparnasse's death (by her hand) was still very close.

Marius was kind to her, though. He was a sweetheart, always stopping to chat and inquire after her and her sister and brother, always ensuring that she was uninjured and being safe on her patrols.

She hoped that he might someday fall for her too. Eponine felt less damaged and depressed and hopeless around him. Perhaps he would even be willing to put up with the uncertainty of her life, her future, for a few passionate years by her side.

But one evening he ran up to her, more excited and worked up than she had ever before seen him.

"'Ponine! Oh, 'Ponine, I've fallen in love," he told her dreamily, taking her hands in his and spinning her gaily.

For a fleeting moment, Eponine thought her meant her.

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her hair is long and so blonde, her eyes are beautiful, and my god she probably has a wonderful soul to match."

Eponine gave him a strained smile.

"Can you find her for me, 'Ponine? You know your way around, and you're good at finding people."

Before she could stop herself, Eponine heard herself agreeing to help him.

She found the blonde beauty, all right.

Her name was Cosette.

She was the daughter of Jean Valjean.

Jean Valjean was the patriarch of the Fauchelevent Coven.

That idiot Marius had gone and fallen for a vampire.

Jealousy and contempt bubbled up inside of Eponine. She didn't know what to do with herself. Or with Marius. And when she had told him what she had learned, he had dismissed it.

"Not all vampires are bad, 'Ponine," he insisted. Eponine wanted to punch him for his stupidity. He might as well have been suggesting that he take a leisurely swim in the ocean in the middle of a hurricane. "She's a good one, I just know it. Besides, the Fauchelevent Coven has always been fairly peaceful. They don't attack humans, not like the Thénardier Coven or the Tholomyes Coven or the others."

Eponine stormed out, going on a hunt.

She would kill something tonight. She could only hope that it was a vampire, not that idiot, love struck boy she had left in the bar.

A few hours later, Eponine was on her third kill (she had been on the offensive tonight, though it wasn't strictly protocol to hunt alone and without a secure plan that Javert knew).

That's when she saw him.

When the vampire woman was dead, Eponine spun on her heal, flicking her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded.

The blonde man regarded her seriously. "You seem angrier tonight than usual."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you stalking me?"

He gave this some consideration, before replying, "More like ensuring that you don't get yourself into any sticky situations again."

She took an involuntary step closer. His eyes were so blue. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You're not like the other slayers."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He thought for a moment. "They're all driven by something. You just go through the motions, but you're so talented. What's keeping you from rising to your full potential? You could be the best slayer alive, if you wanted. You could eradicate the entire Bloodluster population if only you tried."

Eponine regarded him incredulously. "I don't even know you, I'm not talking to you about my reasons for slaying!"

He was watching her closely, looking for something in his face. "Are you afraid of the good you can do?"

Her face darkened. "Look, bro, my reasons for slaying are my own, and are certainly none of your business. And, I will have you know, I'm not afraid of anything."

"Whatever you say," he scoffed.

Eponine shoved him back angrily; he grinned, lazily taking a step back to keep his balance. It only pissed her off more.

"You're intriguing, little slayer," he said, quirking a half-smile at her.

Without missing a beat, she replied, "And you're an annoying jackass, mystery asshole."

He laughed at that.

Eponine still did not know his name, but she began to enjoy his somewhat constant presence when she patrolled. Somehow, he always seemed to pop up in time to see her fight, and ended up staying with her until her patrol was finished just before dawn. Then they would go their separate ways.

"Don't you ever sleep?" she asked as they walked slowly together through the empty streets. No one was ever out at this time of night except for the slayers or the occasional other fighter. She often wondered what his specialty was.

"Don't you?" he countered.

Somehow he always kept things balanced between them. She wasn't sure whether he answered her questions with questions of his own because that's what she did or because he wanted to maintain a certain balance between them. She was fine with boundaries, but the more time she spent with him, the more curious she became. She liked this marble man, this beautiful boy that seemed to gleam with the light of the sun even at night. She wanted to be his friend. She enjoyed hearing about his true friends, the ones that knew him as more than the Marble Man, and she found relief in telling him about her own fucked up life.

Rather than taunting her by knowing her name (which she had never actually told him) while she did not know his, he mostly referred to her as "Slayer" or "Little Slayer." She couldn't decide whether the whole thing was creepy and whether or not she liked his nicknames, nor could she decide if, when he did call her by her name, the shiver that went down her spine was because it sounded so foreign on his tongue or if it was because she liked hearing her name on his lips.

They had become friends, somehow. She wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but she truly did appreciate that he had saved her life, and he hadn't left her alone since, for whatever reason, and she had grown to like his company.

He was driven. He talked a lot about his dreams of helping the people, saving them from these circumstances, finding a way to eradicate the violent covens and hopefully rehabilitate the rest.

Eponine was less in favor of rehabilitation, but her Marble Man insisted that not all covens were violent like Thénardier. He told her frequently that she was blinded by her hate for her parents and what they had become. When he said this, she told him to fuck off and mind his business, usually storming off and leaving him behind. And he usually let her go.

It irritated her to no end that he knew her so well – seemingly without even trying – when she knew nothing about him. Was she that easy to read? He always seemed to guess her emotions – which she had spent so many years learning to hide – without any effort at all. He was always telling her about her potential, about how her circumstances could improve if she only tried a bit harder. He knew her name, he knew her story, but she knew nothing about him. Not even his name.

So one night, she asked him. They had been friends now for a few months. He had watched her fight, had even stepped in a few times when she got a little too close to death for his comfort (though she loved the rush that just escaping death gave her).

"What's your name? You know so much about me, but I know nothing about you."

He was silent for a long moment, and Eponine was fully expecting him to change the subject or stay quiet until she felt humiliated enough by her prying to change it herself, just as he always did. But tonight:

"I'm Enjolras," he told her quietly.

She froze in shock, unable to keep walking. He had actually told her. Her Marble Man had a name, and he had finally given it to her.

After a tense moment, in which she stared at him with an unattractively open mouth and he stared back with trepidation and dark eyes, he stepped up to her. She couldn't read his face as he searched hers, slipping his hand into her own.

Eponine wasn't sure what he found in her face, but he must have been satisfied because he was suddenly turning away, tugging on her hand to pull her with him so they could resume their walk.

But she didn't move. Instead, she tested his name, whispering it into the slight wind. "Enjolras…."

He immediately turned when she said his name, cupping the side of her face with his hands and bringing his lips urgently to hers.

Eponine was waiting for him; her lips parted almost immediately against his, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed herself into him just as he pulled her closer with his free arm.

Enjolras deepened the kiss, meeting the tongue that had only moments ago held his name so tenderly. She shivered as his hand traveled down her rocky spine to rest at the slight valley that had formed at the small of her back.

He kissed her passionately, and she rose to meet the challenge, just as she did with her slaying. His kisses moved from her lips to her jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone. His hand preceded the actions of his lips, tracing their route before he made it. Now, his fingertips traveled down her chest, lips following as he unzipped the jacket she was wearing to reveal her cleavage.

Her hands were entwined in his hair and god she had forgotten how good this felt, and his fingertips and lips and tongue had just reached the top of her breasts when he cried out in pain, leaping away from her.

Eponine stared as a bit of smoke rose from his fingers, as though he had been on fire. He was staring at her with a torn, almost heartbroken, and pained expression.

She knew that she was staring back in horror. Her hand found the pendant buried in her cleavage – a silver cross. It was meant to protect her from her foe.

Anger like she had never before felt suddenly overtook her and she wanted nothing more than to kill him where he stood.

He just continued to stare.

"You're a fucking vampire!" she screamed at him. She could hear the hurt and anger and fear in her voice. What had she done?

"Eponine–."

"No!" she snapped, cutting him off. The way he had implored her with her name – without even needing to say anything else – had twisted her heart in her chest. "If you ever fucking come near me again I will stake you through the heart, and cut your head off, and cause you a lot of fucking pain as I do it!"

Enjolras listened to her scream, holding his burned hand in the palm of his uninjured one. Staring at her with almost heartbroken eyes.

Then he was gone.

#enjonine #enjonine fanfic #enjonine fanfiction #enjonine fic #eponine x enjolras #enjolras x eponine #e/e #é/e

4 notes · View notes

dangan-happy · 4 years ago

Note

(The password; I want Mikan to have wheelies to escape her feelies) Towards Tsumugi once more, but this time along with Akane and Kaito; my dad is set on me getting a job instead of doing school again. This is already enough pressure because he’s insistent that I get one cause vaccines are out now. So he’s saying I don’t have an excuse. I’m only 14, I shouldn’t have to get a job already. And things with this person I like, it’s still there. Can I hug or hang out with you guys?

What the hell?! Forcing someone to get a job at only 14?! That’s a lotta crap!

No matter what kinda excuse he made up in his head to justify this, 14 is still WAY too young to start workin’! And makin’ you drop outta school makes all of this even worse! You're still barely in the middle of frickin’ learning and growing at 14! I understand some people at that age decide to start working for whatever reason but only outside school hours and besides they choose to do so!

Jeez.. He shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on a teen! Even if it’s because of the vaccines or whatever the hell else, that shouldn’t be your problem to deal with, you’re young, all ya’ should be focusing on right now is school and yourself.

I recommend talking to another family member about this.. Maybe an uncle or older cousin, they’ll be able to take your side and help talk all this through with your dad. Make sure to explain why ya’ don’t want to and how it makes ya’ feel, they’ll understand perfectly, you’re a teen, your feelings about this are absolutely valid!

Of course ya’ can get a hug! Come here, it’s gonna be okay. If hanging out can help ya’ remove some of the stress off ya’ back, let’s go train together! I learned some new skills from coach Nekomaru, I’ll teach them to ya’ too!

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

Sup anon! I know you haven't asked for me before, but I think I remember reading another one of your asks, so I got an idea of what you're going through. I'm totally honored to be included on this one, so I'm gonna give you a billion percent effort! Alright, I can kinda see why he'd want you to get a job. Jobs are important, making money and all, but like...you're fourteen!! I think school should be a little more important at your age, plus I don't think there are a whole lot of places that will hire a fourteen year old. And like, just because you have the vaccine doesn't mean that's the go ahead for working either. I dunno, it just seems like there's a lot flawed with your dad's plan. I think your excuse is that you're fourteen man, like for real I just googled it and there aren't too many jobs for a fourteen year old. I think your dad needs to chill, and just let you work on school. You can get a job later in life, seriously it shouldn't be this big of a deal to him. I'd try and talk to him, tell him that fourteen isn't a good working age, I think it's like, sixteen. You might wanna do some research to prove that there aren't any good job opportunities for your age range.

Ok, so I'm not super clear on what's going on with your friend so I speed read some of your earlier asks, and here's what I got: So if things were to go forward in a romantic sense, that would not be good for either of you. As hard as it is, yeah, I wouldn't try to do anything in a romantic sense with this person. It sucks, we can't help who we catch feelings for, and hopefully these will fade. You seem super smart bro, and I'm proud of you for knowing that this isn't a good idea. Definitely keep listening to your brain on this one. Like you said, you're fourteen and you're just starting to experience these things. It'll get easier, I promise. As hard as it is, you're doing the right thing as of now, and I'm proud of you for that.

Yeah! Of course you can get a hug, and double yeah! It would be awesome to hang out with you. I officially dub you a member of my squad. I guess I'm starting a squad now! We'll hand out star stickers for membership badges or something, it's gonna be great!

14... I was going into my first year of high school when I was 14! Pardon my language, but... Your dad is being a huge normie! That's plainly way too much stress to put on someone your age, and is definitely not okay! I plainly feel like no matter how much you try and talk things over with your dad about how he's putting too much pressure on you, he just plain doesn't listen... So I agree with Owari-San. I think it's time to talk to another family member who can knock some sense into him! Verbally, of course...

You're always welcome here, and you're definitely part of the squad! You can definitely have a hug, too. We're always here for you, so remember that no matter how much of a plain jerk your dad is being, you keep doing what you do! Someone at your age in college classes is clearly gifted, special, and wonderful. And that's exactly what you are. Please, don't forget that.

#danganronpa #danganronpa roleplay blog #ask #akane owari #mod akane #kaito momota #mod kaito #tsumugi shirogane #mod tsumugi

9 notes · View notes

safetytank · 4 years ago

Text

long-ass floral drama ahead

after the roaring successes of my Anders DragonAge Did Nothing Wrong & How To Dungeons And Dragons Good presentations, the host of the original had a follow-up DTL night and u KNOW a bitch is incapable of not doing Way Too Much while simultaneously leaving everything to the last minute

so here u go, customers i interacted with while working at one of the local florists between 2017-2018, organized and ranked for ur entertainment

commentary added bc most the slides were just a visual component to a textual joke & i won’t make u all sit through a 10-minute video rendition, u got shit to do

every single older guy cheating on his partner follows exactly the same script, it’s like they were made in a lab

some did manage to break away from the mold tho, usually younger guys asking sheepishly if we had “i’m sorry” balloons (we did) or the following 2 honorable mentions for bringing innovations to the field of cheating on ur wife

imagine using a BIBLE VERSE to try and convince your girl she should take u back bc something something FORGIVENESS

the audacity

the second honorable mention is the very first customer complaint my manager handled after he was hired on back in like 2012, which was a guy whose girlfriend had looked at his credit card statement the day after Valentine’s Day and saw he’d sent 13 other one-dozen rose arrangements so he tried to convince her it must have been a credit card glitch & that he’d call and get it sorted out and my manager was like “lmao fuck no you’re not getting a refund, u made ur bed now lie in it asshole”

number 4 is the time a customer wanted an order wired to chicago for a loved one’s birthday and have it be sent to their job and i was like “oh how nice where do they work” and they were like “the leather museum” and me, internally, thinking “wow like cowboy stuff :)”

it was not cowboy stuff

number three i don’t even give a shit about censoring the name on bc if you know Vickie Fucking Fitzgerald in real life there’s no punishment u could enact upon me that would be greater than having to put up with Vickie Fucking Fitzgerald in real life

this slide is an example of a normal message someone might write on a card that comes in a floral arrangement, like 4-ish lines of text on a little plastic fork that says “happy birthday, love NAME 1 and NAME 2″ or “sorry for your loss, love THE LASTNAME FAMILY”

Vickie Fucking Fitzgerald does not know how cards on floral arrangements work

like damn bitch just send a letter at that point jesus christ

fun fact this was also a wire order so the other florist called us on the phone to be like “uhhhhh is this....correct” and we had to be like “yeah” and they went “ok, cool, just checking, uh, so we had to staple 4 different message cards together to fit all of it” and we were like “yeah bet u did lol”

vickie fucking fitzgerald was a million billion years old and if u saw her name pop up on the caller ID you learned to fear it bc it meant you’d be trapped on the phone for between 10 and 20 minutes listening to her entire life story in between trying to take a gd floral order

one time she wanted a funeral basket sent out of state to FUCKING ALASKA and we’re on the east coast of the united states so we were like “ok well there’s a 4 hour timezone difference and it’s 8am here so they’re not even open yet, we’ll have to wait til 12pm when they open up at 8 and then we can wire it for you so we’ll take down your order and call u back when it’s time to wire it”

yall wanna guess how many times this bitch called back to waste our time before 12pm

VICKIE YOU WENT ON FOR CUMULATIVE HOURS ABOUT HOW YOUR HUSBAND WAS DIVORCING YOU AND I’M BEGINNING TO SEE WHY HE MIGHT WANT TO

#2 is of course the dumb horny bullshit, bc it turns out if u order online and the quality control manager isn’t paying A Lot of attention u can slip all kinds of shit into ur card messages (just don’t do the entire fuckin Iliad like VFF up there)

this one gets put in horny jail because of the sheer AUDACITY of contacting someone who has either 1. been broken up with/divorced recently, or worse, 2. THEIR PARTNER FUCKING DIED, and THEN TRYING TO THROW YOUR HAT IN THE RING WITH THAT “I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE BEAUTIFUL, CATCH ME ON THE REBOUND BABY ;)” HORSESHIT

no comment

this one haunts me in the depths of night and will absolutely be the last thing i see when i close my eyes to slough off this mortal coil

this one yall get every single slide for bc the only reason it lives on in as much detail is due to me hopping on twitter immediately afterwards to preserve the memory while it was still fresh (the caller was not the ghost btw, she was a middle-aged acquaintance of the aforementioned Gay Nigerian Royalty Ghost)

shout out to every stock website i skimmed off for this presentation btw

we stan one gay ghost king (THIS JOKE WORKS ON MULTIPLE LEVELS)

WHY DID HE HAVE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS, YOU ASK

i cannot confirm literally any of this information please do not ask me to i was just paraphrasing what was told to me

here’s where we got into the really wild shit

if u ever worked retail u know this feeling

SO THE DELIVERY MANAGER COMES BACK IN THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL

and he’s like “so i walked in there to deliver the orders and the place was DECKED OUT in traditional fabrics, masks on the wall, everyone was dressed very traditionally, and i was like wow cool guess this guy was important” (he did not know about the International CIA Prosecutor stuff) and someone at the funeral home told him “oh yah we had to go all out bc the deceased’s family WERE A BRANCH OF THE NIGERIAN ROYAL FAMILY THAT HAD FLED TO THE UNITED STATES SOMETIME IN THE 80′S so obviously u can’t have a royal funeral and skimp on the decorations :)”

artist’s rendition

thank u for enjoying this little trip down memory lane also if u recognize urself or someone u know in any of these stories i blocked ur names out for a reason so don’t fuckin come at me ok

17 notes · View notes

peppusae · 4 years ago

Text

[kth] lavender honey ch. 8

note: this fanfic has multiple chapters, so please look forward to more!

lavender honey: kim taehyung x reader

genre: crack, fluff, college au, smut

word count: 3.6k words

lavender honey

ch 8: in which taehyung makes minji choose voilence, while jungkook makes her strip for him.

“My… my chances are rare, hyung. I might want to hold tight, the person I like, but... I can’t. Not when things are going well for her with the person she likes. I don’t want to be the person that ruins things for the one person I have the hardest time staying away from, you know?”

The person Taehyung likes?

You suddenly think about the time when you had come home and Namjoon was doing some revisions on a song Taehyung had written, about a girl. Back then, you thought he might have had too much strawberry milk and gotten emo enough to write some good shit for his assignment.

But hearing his words, you realize that he was genuine about what he was saying back then, and it makes your heart hurt a bit.

Who did Taehyung like?

Your heart hurts more as you listen to your brother’s sad little ‘oh’ in response.

Clearly, Namjoon isn’t the one you should be going to for advice.

Taehyung, for one, doesn’t seem to care.

“Like, what if Jin-hyung started dating a friend of yours? You would be sad, right, Hyung?”

“Well…. Yes, I would.”

“And if you find out that it’s someone close to you, that’s going to be even sadder, right?”

There is a moment of silence and you start to feel guilty about eavesdropping, so you decide to go downstairs to create some kind of ruckus so the two would know you were home and close the door, at the very least.

Before you’re able to go downstairs, you can hear Namjoon asking the very question bubbling in your head.

“The person you like is dating someone close to you?”

You’re not sure why, but you’re glad you didn’t wait to hear what he had to say.

---

“So. I need to survive another day with you, huh?”

Taehyung greets you the next day, and his words and actions don’t match at all, because he's holding out a cup of iced coffee for you as he takes his seat behind the library counter.

“I’m trying to finish the assignment we have due on Friday.”

“Oh? You still have a whole week for it, though.”

You open up a new tab on Google, trying to find more sites for citing purposes. “If it’s okay with you, I want to go collect the books on Friday after classes. We finish early on Fridays, remember?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, and it’s probably the gray shirt he has on that makes him look really, really attractively confused.

What in heckles is that even.

How does someone look attractive while they’re confused?

Library duty is kinda scary, it makes you find out more stuff about the male that you need to make points for the essay you’ll be collaborating with Seokjin; about all the other-worldly features of Kim Taehyung.

It’s either the shirt, or Minji is just extra horny today.

You decide that the former is a better option, so you go back to your laptop.

“We can go on Friday. We have to go to Daegu, Gwangju, and Busan too, right? We obviously can’t finish the entire trip in a day, so we have to stay the night-”

“Daegu.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll stay at Daegu. At my house.”

That’s kinda weird of him to say that out of nowhere, but you decide that he might just want the excuse to hang out with his family.

You give him an ok sign, and you find yourself smiling a little when you find him pulling out the same assignment sheet you’re working on, from his backpack, and then starting his own work as well.

A little before the borrowing time ends, students line up to take the books they are interested in, so you and Taehyung get a little busy. When the announcement for the end of the borrowing time is announced (in Taehyung’s ridiculously deep voice), you two decide to stay back at the library to finish your assignment before going home.

In fact, you are actually so immersed in finishing your task, that you don’t notice the time until someone taps your shoulder and you find Namjoon, a smiling Jungkook standing beside him.

“Hi, Noonim!”

Jungkook actually does try hard not to call you that when the others are around, but habits are habits, and you’re glad Namjoon and Taehyung don’t make a big deal out of it anymore.

“We’re all going out to eat, Hoseokie-hyung is giving a treat because it’s his birthday! We gotta eat as much meat as we can!” Jungkook announces happily, looking at you with a big grin. You give him a smile, glancing at Taehyung who has closed the lid of his laptop as soon as the two arrived.

“I think we’ve done a lot of work for one day, right? Let’s go?”

“What do you mean, for one day? I’ve finished my assignment.”

You stare at Taehyung in disbelief.

“The fuck?”

“Oh shit.” Namjoon says, making you glare at him. Only when you see Jungkook’s slightly bewildered face, do you realise you’ve probably cursed for the first time in front of the younger boy, and it makes your face heat up while you turn back to face Taehyung.

“How did you finish it so fast? And why are you staying here if you’re already done?”

“I’m an amazing guy, [Name]-ah. You need to give me a fuckton more of credit.” He has to say, cooly picking up his belongings and throwing them all into one big salad bowl (aka his hugeass backpack). “You weren’t done, so I was waiting for you.”

What?

While Namjoon and Jungkook head outside and Taehyung follows you after you pack your belongings, you ask him how long it has been since he’s finished his work.

“I think, 2 hours, maybe?”

“Why the fuck,” you hiss, “Did you not go home?!”

Taehyung looks a bit annoyed right about now, and you want to yell because how dare he have the audacity to look annoyed?!!!

“Like I said, I was waiting for you!” He yells, this time making Namjoon and Jungkook who are walking ahead of you also, to turn around to look at Taehyung. When he sees the two looking at him, Taehyung takes a deep breath and glances at you.

“Leave me alone and go with your little boyfriend.”

Then, he storms off, and Jungkook looks as blank as you feel like, and you don’t know how long you’d have stayed, watching Taehyung walk through the length of the hallway and disappear if Namjoon did not snap you out of your trance and asked you to hurry up.

Who pulled Kim Taehyung’s panties into a wad today?

---

Taehyung colors his hair black for the next day.

It’s so out of the blue, and the incessant way everyone makes a big deal out of it seems a bit understandable.

It really isn’t fair, how good the guy looks.

Yoongi hasn’t even finished that song he says he’s writing about a really stupidly attractive man, yet, and it isn’t fair because you really could use a listen to that song right about now.

Even while Jungkook - a really hot kid - sits right beside you, you can’t help but just stare in awe because honestly, there is nothing - human or extra-terrestrial creature included - that could beat the beauty and attractiveness that is Kim Taehyung.

Minji is shaking her head because a) How dare you say two words like ‘hot kid’ that should never be even put together in the first place, b) Because Jungkook and you are dating, right? Or is it pre-dating? Does that exist? Wait a second-

“Noonim, I’m going with Jimin-hyung and Taetae-hyung to the arcade after classes are over,” he says, “Can we go on that date I mentioned tomorrow, instead?”

“What date?” Seokjin butts in out of nowhere, in the middle of taking a bite out of his grapefruit tart. “Is this why you asked me to stay out of the house until late at night tomorrow?!”

Seokjin, obviously, is a meathead, and a really dumb one, at that.

Multiple things happen at once.

The first one is Jungkook standing up from his seat so fast that he almost spills the bean sprout broth bowl on his tray.

The second one is all eyes turning to Seokjin, which in turn, makes the elder male’s ears turn bright red and him starting to mumble nonsense to himself like a lunatic.

The third one is Jungkook getting off from the bench and dragging Seokjin away from the lunch table, all while Hoseok, Hani, and Hyojin seem to be enjoying the entire ruckus.

Only when you glance at Namjoon do you remember that Jungkook had mentioned he has a roommate… and that roommate was Seokjin, himself.

“You’ve started doing what with Jungkookie now?”

“Shut up! He just asked me to go see his animations and paintings, what are you talking about, Namjoonie?!” You protest, eyes turning to Taehyung, who runs a hand through his hair, takes a final sip of his cola, and then heads out of the cafeteria - a pastel pink-haired Jimin running after him.

Namjoon blinks, and then continues to eat his food, much like Yoongi who sees and hears nothing because of the radio show he’s busily listening to while he gobbles up his lunch.

If only everyone was like Min Yoongi.

It’s ten minutes later when both Seokjin and Jungkook return, the younger one apologizing to you like crazy, even when Jimin comes back a while later, saying Taehyung had some assignment to complete beforehand.

“I don’t know about you guys, but didn’t I bet these two will get it on within a month?”

Apparently, Seokjin doesn’t know when to shut up, and you’re very glad Namjoon has already left by then and that Hoseok does the honor of punching the elder male in the back for spewing nonsense - which he claims is the truth.

This is going to be a long day.

---

You’re driving to college the next day with Namjoon only, for the first time in what feels like ages.

You’d been dreading questions about Jungkook that he might have, but it isn’t about the date you’ll be going on after classes today that worries Namjoon, but something else, entirely.

“My precious sister. We did promise that we would share our secrets with each other, did we not?”

“We did, my precious brother.” You play along, watching the little koala keychain hanging from the mirror inside the car.

“I am not going to question you about why or what you’re going to do with Jungkookie, that’s none of my business,” he starts. You shake your head, mouthing ‘It is, Namjoonie’, which makes your brother smile a little.

“Thank you. I’m not going to question it, because I know my sister well and I trust my little sister. What I’m only going to question is one thing. Are you sure of the choices you’ve made, till now?”

“What do you mean, Joonie?”

You watch as he scratches his head a little, not saying anything for a while as he steers along a few curves and stops at a red light.

“I’ve noticed that your thoughts have been wandering a lot recently.” He points out.

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“What I mean is, your mind seems like it’s always somewhere else, and that has not been the case when you first started going out with Jungkook.”

Has Namjoon been watching over you enough to notice that your mind always wanders all around the place, eventually landing on some stupid thought of Taehyung, in the end?

“It seems to me like you’re not really in love with Jungkookie, but someone else.”

You could swear you felt chills run down your spine because of the absolute bingo he had managed to make; Namjoon had a high IQ for a reason, that you realize then.

You manage to chuckle, shaking your head and waving it off. “That’s ridiculous, Joon-ah, I had a crush on Jungkook ever since we got introduced to each other by Jiminie.”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, as if he doesn’t believe you - but this was the truth, even if your fraying thoughts only began much much later after that.

Perhaps it’s because you’ve arrived at the parking lot at college, that Namjoon decides to drop the subject, giving you a nod in response.

“Well. It turns out Kookie also liked you since back then. You’re my sister and I just want you to be happy, with whoever.”

It moves you, hearing that. You know that it must have been hard on Namjoon who not only finds out things easily, but over analyzes things he finds as well. It makes you smile, going around to Namjoon’s side of the car when he gets out after parking, and then giving him a big hug, right in the middle of the parking lot.

“Yah, Kim [Name]-ah, what are you doing?!”

“You don’t have to worry about Jinnie wondering if there’s something between us, he knows we’re siblings now!” You say, giving him a wave and running inside the campus before he can say anything else.

---

“And that’s the project I’m working on right now, Noonim!”

You can’t help but to give a big grin to the boy who looks very pleased with your positive reaction after he showed his animation work. Jungkook really wasn’t called the Golden Maknae for no reason, his animations were realistic and flawless, at least from your - a complete amateur’s - point of view. After you say this, Jungkook laughs, thanking you and saying that that is a very lovely compliment to receive considering most of the people who would consume whatever he produces would also be amateurs too, in the end.

His literal statement makes you laugh, and you enjoy the time with the male, your mind definitely not wandering as much as it did on your previous date. You’re glad it doesn’t, and you enjoy eating chocolate pudding and having the banana milk Jungkook prepared for you, while you go through all the lovely paintings and digital art the male had created.

“By the way, Noonim, can you take a seat over there?” He asks, pointing at the center of his bed. Minji has started to strip out of nowhere, and when you glance at Jungkook with wide eyes, you’re very surprised to see that he has taken a digital camera.

So he wants to take a picture of me sitting on the bed, not to start-

Okay, Minji, you need to get a toy or something because you’re being way too horny and there’s no other way we can calm you down.

You find yourself awkwardly waddling and taking a seat at the center of Jungkook’s bed - and gosh does it smell like a very boyish citrus over here - allowing the male to take a few pictures of you which he wanted.

“Okay, I got them. I can’t wait to start drawing you!!” He says, much like a little kid, and it makes your heart swell, holding your hand out towards him and watching him raise a surprised eyebrow, doe eyes wide while he slowly walks up to you. You can tell he is nervous by the way his ears have become a little red, and the fact that he had dimmed the lights and turned on a warm light for your picture does not help.

“Y-Yes?”

You give a smile, watching him place his camera on the side table carefully before he walks back, slowly intertwining your fingers. His nervousness shows in the way he looks down at your hands every three seconds, unable to keep eye contact for long. It’s so adorable that your heart becomes warm, mumbling a little ‘Jungoo?’ barely enough for him to hear.

“Yes, N-Noona?”

“Why did you ask Seokjinnie to not come for a while?”

Now, Jungkook refuses to look you in the eyes even for a second, his cheeks turning beet red.

“Jungoo?”

“I… I never get to hold your hand like this unless we’re on a date…”

You can’t help but to smile up at him, tugging at his hand so that he bends down a little, coming to face-level with you. Even before you put a hand on his face, you could tell that his cheeks were burning, and it makes your heart race because you simply can’t get over how adorable he is.

Jungkook closes his eyes and you kiss him on the nose, gently, and that makes him open his eyes a little startled.

When you end up bursting into a smile, despite the serious look on Jungkook’s face, it seems to make the boy less nervous, chuckling a little before he sits down beside you on the bed.

“What did you expect, Jungoo?”

“You enjoy teasing me a lot, don’t you, Noonim?”

“That’s what you get for calling me Noona.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “I shall not make that kind of mistake again.”

You find yourself smiling, and your heart has stopped racing, now feeling more comfortable around Jungkook. Even when he smiles and leans in to kiss you, you close your eyes, kissing him back, so, so comfortable that you don’t even notice until Jungkook leans away, that one of your legs have gone over his thigh and he is looking at you with wide eyes.

Holy shit . You’d always know Jungkook was a muscle-y kid because his jeans always fit him in all the right places, but it’s a different thing when you can actually physically feel that under your own thigh-

“You did lock the door, right?”

Jungkook looks baffled at your question, his jaw dropping open, but he still nods in response.

“No one else will come, right?”

The male closes his mouth, still very startled but nods again.

“Then we could do this a bit more, right?” You ask, and his response is faster this time, nodding once again, a hand going behind your neck and pulling your face to his. You can feel his tongue on your lips, and you part and let him in, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable sitting with one leg over his. It felt like Jungkook felt the same way - and this is where you learn about the mighty strength he has - when he wraps an arm around your waist, completely pulling you onto his lap.

Not only has Minji finished stripping by now, but she has also put on her finest lingerie now.

You’re actually very, VERY startled by this action, so much that you break away from the kiss, looking at Jungkook with wide eyes.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, you look away from his eyes, a down at his neck. There is a sheen of sweat forming on his neck, and his white shirt has stuck to his skin a little by now.

Oh God save me.

“Noonim…”

“Mmm?”

“Should I let you go?”

The way he says that, the way he words it, sounds so, so sad and you wonder how you can tell him that you were simply embarrassed, nothing else.

And you can’t think of anything to say, so you close your eyes, grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips, heart racing at how brave you were feeling out of nowhere. Was it because this was Jungkook’s room, because you knew no one else would be around?

Or is it because it was Jungkook, both his hands hugging your back, pulling your body so close to his that it’s almost too embarrassing to bear, kissing you like this might be his last chance to do so?

Whatever it is, you find yourself opening your eyes, slowly pushing him back and watching the way his eyes go wide when he falls back down on his bed, pulling you along with him.

For a minute, neither of you do anything, and it looks like Jungkook took a minute to get over his initial surprise, because he wraps his arms - which are already around you - much tightly, rolling over so that he’s the one looking down at you while you look up at him.

And this is so much more embarrassing, because now you don’t even have anywhere else to look, because Jungkook is just so, so, so damn close, and you find yourself closing your eyes, not knowing what else to do.

“Noonim.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Look at me for a bit.” Jungkook whispers softly, and you open your eyes, to see his face a little further away, eyes closed while he takes in deep breaths.

“Noonim. I like you so, so much.”

#lavender honey #bts #taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung college au #bts college au #bts fanfic #language major vs music major

11 notes · View notes

stuonsongs · 3 years ago

Text

My Top 10 Favorite Songs of All Time - 2006 Edition

2021 Editor’s Note: I was looking through some old files and found this thing that I wrote sometime in the summer of 2006 at age 22. For all I know, it could’ve been 15 years to the day! Looking back, I’m not sure how many of these songs would still make my top 10. Don’t get me wrong, I still love all of these tunes, but I’m sure you know how it goes - You get older, you get exposed to more things, and your idea of good music expands. Anyway, I thought it might be nice to share with anyone who still uses this site. I present it in its original format without edits to my writing. I ended up writing full posts in this blog about some of these songs if you go through the archive.

Stu’s Top 10 Favorite Songs…Ever

Let’s start with some honorable mentions. These were so close, and I thought about it for so long, but they had to be left off.

Honorable Mentions

All Summer Long – The Beach Boys

All Summer Long. 1964. Capitol

This song has been described so many times as being “the perfect summer song.” When you listen to it, you can’t help but smile from the opening marimba intro, all the way through. It just screams “summer” and it hurt me to leave The Beach Boys off my top 10.

Bleed American – Jimmy Eat World

Bleed American. 2001. Grand Royal

So full of energy, so rocking, and so what would’ve been the most recent song on my list. I wanted to keep it in the top 10 just so I could have a song from the ‘00s, but it wasn’t meant to be. When the chorus kicks in, I can’t help but headbang.

Marie – Randy Newman

Good Old Boys. 1974. Reprise

Randy has said that a lot of young composers pick “Marie” as their favorite Newman song, and I can see why. The idea of a guy having to be drunk to tell his wife that he loves her is pretty funny, and throughout the whole song it’s just the beautiful melody with tons of strings, all to a tune about a guy ripping on himself as he comes home drunk to his wife.

Does He Love You? – Rilo Kiley

More Adventurous. 2004. Brute/Beaute

I guess this is newer than Bleed American, so it would’ve worked too. This is another more recent song that it killed me to leave off the list. The outro is an arrangement of the main tune with a different chord progression performed by a string quartet. Very beautiful. Also when Jenny Lewis screams “Your husband will never leave you, he will never leave you for me,” I get chills every time.

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

So here it is. After a long day’s work, I’m finally finished. It actually turned out much different than I was thinking when I first started. The number one wasn’t really even in my top five when I started, but I slowly realized I loved it so much. I also left Ben Folds (Five) off this list completely, and I don’t know, I just feel the whole catalogue of Ben is so solid, none of the songs stick out to me that much. But anyways, here it is! After the break of course…

Stu’s Top 10

10.

(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave – Martha and the Vandellas

Heat Wave. 1963. Motown.

This one beat out “Bleed American” just barely. The reason being that somehow, despite being nearly 40 years older than Bleed American, it still has so much energy that it kills. Dan Bukvich once told our Jazz Arranging class that you can boil all the oldies you hear on the radio down to three categories: 1) Great Song. 2) Great Performance. 3) Great Arrangement. This song is one of the great performances. The handclaps throughout, combined with the driving baritone sax behind everything and constant snare drum action will keep anybody with blood running through their veins dancing all night long.

Bodhisattva – Steely Dan

Countdown to Ecstasy. 1973. MCA

This song is my Freebird. It’s just a basic blues progression song at its core with some minor changes at the end of the form. The real kicker that drives this song home is the three minute guitar solo in the middle that isn’t nearly as rocking as Freebird, but it is highly proficient and takes me to places that just make me want to play the song over and over again. I have no idea what this song is about, probably Buddhism, but hey, this once again proves that lyrics rarely matter and the music itself is the core.

Zanzibar – Billy Joel

52nd Street. 1978. Columbia

This song reminds me of long car rides on vacations down the west coast with my parents growing up. They used to play a tape of 52nd Street, or at least their favorite selections, constantly on these trips. I didn’t hear this song again until early in my senior year in college and remembered why I loved it so much. The song has a heavy jazz influence, displayed in the breakdown where Jazz trumpeter Freddie Hubbard does a solo. The best part of this song though is at the end of the 4th line of each verse, Billy does this “Woah oh oh!” thing that just makes me want to sing every time. It was between this and “Miami 2017 (Lights Go Out On Broadway)” which is also a great song, but the “Woah oh oh!” is too much for ol’ Stu boy.

Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) – Bruce Springsteen

The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. 1973. Columbia

Early Bruce Springsteen records have something that very few other artists can ever pull off without sounding cheesy or forced. It has this undeniable sense of urgency, like the world will fall apart and life will crumble through your fingers if this one moment in time doesn’t work out the way Bruce describes it. There are so many early Springsteen songs that just set a scene of “We have to get out of this town right now girl before it kills us, no matter what any of our parents, friends, anybody has to say.” There’s a line that kinda sums it up: “Well hold on tight, stay up all night ‘cause Rosie I’m comin’ on strong. By the time we meet the morning light, I will hold you in my arms. I know a pretty little place in southern California down San Diego way. There’s a little café where they play guitars all night and all day. You can hear ‘em in the back room strummin’, so hold tight baby ‘cause don’t you know daddy’s comin’.”

I’ve Got You Under My Skin – Frank Sinatra

Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! 1956. Capitol

This song falls into the category of great arrangement. This Cole Porter classic tune was arranged for Sinatra by Nelson Riddle. The story goes that he was still copying down parts for the players while riding in the cab to the recording studio on the day of recording. After the players ran through it once with Frank, they stood up and applauded. The Baritone sax takes control here, outlining a Db6/9 chord throughout the intro. Of course, Frank’s vocal delivery is spot on and goes up and down in all the right places for the biggest emotion impact. It’s amazing how a song with no real chorus can be so good.

A Change Is Gonna Come – Sam Cooke

Ain’t That Good News. 1964. RCA Victor

This song was not even going to be on this list, but then I ran across it while scouring my collection of music and remembered how good it was. Then I listened to it and was blown away by the level of detail that went into this arrangement. Sam’s vocals soar above the mind blowingly beautiful arrangement. The lyrics to this one actually add to the tune itself, speaking of wrongdoings in the world around him, and how social change is on its way in the form of the civil rights movement. The song flows with such ease out of Cooke that one might forget the weightiness of the content, but the song’s content is just so heavy that it’s impossible to deny it.

Whatever – Oasis

Whatever EP. 1994. Creation

This song was released as a Christmas present to the U.K. from the Gallagher brothers and company. It never appeared on any full album, only being released as a single, and amazingly, it blows away anything else they’ve ever done. Think “All You Need Is Love,” but with tons of rocking energy and a snide, nonchalant attitude. The chorus speaks, “I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I choose and I’ll sing the blues if I want. I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I like, if it’s wrong or right, it’s alright.” Not exactly poetry, and the song isn’t exactly breaking any new ground either, but the song is absolutely perfect in every way, and it was going to be my #1, but perhaps the only reason it’s not at number one is because I’ve played this song so many times that at the moment, these next three are beating it, but who knows how I’ll feel in a few months. This song also pulls the same “outro performed by a string quartet” thing as “Does He Love You?” but even better. It’s so simple, but I can’t get enough of it.

Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra

Out of the Blue. 1977. Jet

This is obviously the best Beatles song that the Beatles never wrote. The staccato guitar during the verse combined with the strings present in just about every ELO song combine to make a force that is undeniably catchy and musically challenging at the same time. This is really what makes ELO so good. I didn’t discover this song till probably Nov. 2005, and it was one of the best days of my life. I didn’t want to include two songs by the same artist in my top 10, but if I did, I probably would’ve added “Turn To Stone” on this list too because it is almost as awesome as this one. It’s a shame that just like Billy Joel, most critics at the time hated ELO for being overly creative musically (they called it pretentiousness). These days we have acts that really are pretentious (see Radiohead), but everyone loves them, even critics. I’m not knocking all Radiohead, just most everything post OK Computer. Sorry, got a little sidetracked there.

Only In Dreams – Weezer

Weezer. 1994. Geffen

This has been my favorite Weezer song since about a month into me picking up Weezer’s debut album back around early 2000. It has this ostinato (a repeated motif over and over again) in the bass throughout most of the whole song, never even really resolving to the Gb major chord (excluding chorus, which never really resolves) that it wants to until the end of a 3 minute contrapuntal guitar duet when everything dies out except the bass which just retards on its own until it finally plays the single Gb we’ve all been waiting for. The song on the whole up until the guitar duet is pretty tame, but once those contrapuntal guitar lines start intertwining, my ears perk up every time. I can sing both lines at separate times upon request and when the drums finally kick back in fully at the climax of the song, I let out a sigh of relief or bang on my car wheel in exultant joy, whichever is more of an option at the time.

All Is Forgiven – Jellyfish

Spilt Milk. 1993. Charisma

I always loved this song from the first time I heard it, but I didn’t realize how much I loved it until maybe April 2006. I found out about Jellyfish first semester of college in the Fall of ’02 and heard this song, and knew it was great. The constant tom-tom driven drums, the fuzzy, almost white noise distorted guitar, and the half time bass throughout. It was great. Then in April I put it on my mp3 player for the walk to school, and then I listened to it for about two weeks straight. Seriously. It runs into the next song entitled “Russian Hill” which is almost as good, but because it’s a separate song, I couldn’t include it on the list, but in my mind, they always run together and are basically one long 9 minute song. The ending just gets more and more white noise filled until you can barely take it anymore and then it just cuts off completely into the slow acoustic intro for Russian Hill. It’s perfect in every way. I think this would fall into the category of great song. And the way the song builds up right to the middle of the song and then cuts out completely except for some very VERY faint xylophone noodling, and then busts back in with some feedback directly into guitar solo. Man I love this song.

2 notes · View notes

tsipasce · 4 years ago

Text

Same Difference, Ch.07

A/N: Is it really a fanfic without at least one semi-flirty bar scene?

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

AO3 | Fanfic

“All work and no play makes Nanami a dull girl~” Hitomi hummed on the other end of the phone “Come out with me tonight. I haven’t seen you in weeks since you started that research project with… what’s the company’s name?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know it, it’s just a startup.” Nanami replied, quickly dismissing her friend’s question, Overhaul rolling his eyes in the background. “And I know, I know, I just haven’t had a lot of time, but I’ll definitely make it up to you, scout’s honor.”

“Well scout, you said that last time, so your honor’s really on the line now. It’s a Friday night and I know you have that cute black dress you haven’t taken out for a spin yet, so what’s it gonna be?”

Hitomi was one of her closest girlfriends and had been asking her to have a girl’s night out for weeks. The excuses were running low and the steam she needed to blow off was running high. After all the work she’d put in, it was time to let loose for once. “You know what… Hell yeah.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up at your place around 10. See ya. ~”

Ending the call, Nanami was reinvigorated. She had to admit that despite Overhaul being the opposite of a normal guy, it was a bit demoralizing working so closely with a man her age and only being seen as a colleague. I am a young, vivacious, attractive woman and it’s high time I acted like it. Responsibly, of course.

“I presume you’ll be taking your leave for the night?” He queried but sounded disinterested.

“Why yes I will. I have plans.” She said aloud to him. “Plans that involve me looking cute for once.” She remarked to herself eyeing her usual lab coat + sensible business attire critically in the reflection of one of the glass cabinets. Behind her she could tell he was looking in her direction.

“…. What?” she asked, already expecting a smartass answer.

He stared a beat, looking as if he was wanted to say something, but didn’t, “Nothing. We’ll resume on Monday. Have a nice night.”

“Hm. Suit yourself, see you Monday!” Nanami chirped as she almost skipped out of the door, not realizing he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Nanami rushed home, all-too excited about her plans. She hadn’t treated herself to a night of casual debauchery in what felt like eons and was fully prepared to indulge the whims of her friend. Tossing her bag on the counter, she rushed to the shower, shaving her legs and washing her hair. She knew the exact dress Hitomi meant and made a b-line for the back of her closet to retrieve the box it was in. She’d been too shy to wear it before, but Tonight is the night. She confirmed with herself before slipping on the garment.

It was a short, satin black dress with spaghetti straps and a subtle slit along the side, the straight neckline complimenting her delicate collarbone and now-confident, square shoulders. Damn I look good, she thought gassing herself up in front of the mirror. She decided to wear her hair down, styling it simply with a part down the middle.

Throwing on a pair of strappy shoes, it was now 10:01 and the doorbell rang. Looking through the peephole she saw a woman dropping it low, thoroughly invested in making that ass clap while yelling “Ayyyee”.

Yup, Hitomi’s here.

Opening the door, Hitomi turned around greeting her with a huge smile she’d sincerely missed,” Well hello gorgeous. ~” Hitomi beamed as she gave her friend a once over before embracing her, “I missed you, girl.”

“I missed you too,” Nanami replied wholeheartedly, rocking back and forth in the embrace before taking a step back to look her in the eye. “Are you ready?” Nanami asked, determined to make good on her promise to behave like a “normal” young adult.

“You bet your ass I am... But not before we pregame.” Hitomi said with a devilish grin.

Two shots later and they were in the Guber car. Hitomi chatted about her promotion and the new place she’d just moved into with a killer view. It was nice being a regular twenty-something for a change and getting to talk about all the fun transitions going on in each other’s lives—well, really in Hitomi’s since Nanami had a gag order on half of what she did at present. Still, she listened intently, happy that her friend was thriving.

“So you’re saying I should come over after this?” Nanami chimed in.

“No, I’m telling you you should come over after this. You can borrow some of my pajamas and we’ll make a sleepover out of it!” Hitomi squealed.

“That sounds perfect. Snack run on the way home?”

“You truly are my soulmate,” Hitomi gushed, dramatically. She perked up and gasped, looking past Nanami to the front of the club as the car pulled up.

Stepping out there was a bit of a line and Nanami was already mentally preparing herself to suffer for fashion as her heels were not meant for standing hours on end. Just as she was accepting her fate, Hitomi hooked her arm with her own “Where are you going? I know the manager here.”

“No way, you know I hate skipping lines. We’ll get death stares all night.”

“Didn’t you promise to indulge me tonight? You know, ‘scout’s honor’ and all?” Hitomi cajoled.

“…You’re the worst.” Nanami sighed, admitting defeat. She’d flaked too much to refuse her friend now.

“Knew you’d be a team player. Now let’s get it moving, sweet cheeks.”

Marching to the bouncer, Hitomi worked her magic and they were in. Nanami was pleasantly surprised it wasn’t loud and rave-like like she’d assumed. The lighting was dark and blue, the dance floor was full of people, moving and singing along to a crowd-pleasing playlist. The bar was at capacity, dozens of drunken hopefuls vying for the stressed bartender’s attention. Despite having a quirk that gave him multiple arms, he was still struggling to keep up. The lounges that lined the wall were filled with people ordering bottle service, putting on airs and trying to look cool as they had to yell at each other over the music just to make casual conversation. One might think she was judging them, but the opposite was true. It was nice being able to people watch, especially when said people seemed to be enjoying themselves so much. She needed this after the past couple months.

“Come on, let’s get some drinks!” Hitomi yell-whispered in Nanami’s ear over the music.

“Ok, I’ll get in line for us.”

“What? No, this is not the final destination, my sweet. Follow me!”

With their arms still linked, Hitomi led the way up the stairs in the corner of the room, weaving through people that had already drunk themselves underneath the table. The further they went, the more the crowd shifted from casual partygoers to hip bar flies. They continued down a hall until they came to a door with a slit in it, not dissimilar to one you’d find in a medieval castle. Hitomi knocked confidently and Nanami wiggled in excitement at what mystery could be behind the door. A man on the other side pulled the metal slit open, only revealing his hardened gaze.

“Password.”

“No vermouth for the uncouth” Hitomi recited like it was normal, Nanami trying to keep a straight face.

The slit closed again before the door was opened and they were permitted to enter by the doorman. Upon walking in, Nanami was treated to an ideal speakeasy atmosphere. The lights were low and warm, and the barkeep relaxed as he made artisanal drinks. At the dozen or so small booths people were engaging in easy conversation. This is perfect, Nanami thought to herself, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You’re welcome.” Hitomi winked, knowing this was what her friend desperately needed. She hadn’t said it outright, but she knew Nanami was massively stressed and just needed to feel pretty and relaxed for an evening. She was more than willing to oblige.

Giving her friend an earnest look of gratitude, Nanami hugged her before offering to get them drinks while Hitomi found a spot to sit. Already feeling a little warm and relaxed from their pregaming, Nanami plopped herself on the barstool and waited patiently for the barkeep to notice her. As she studied the space, she saw a wall lined with unmarked bottles, herbs, and other ingredients for drinks. It looked like a mage’s pantry from a fantasy novel and she was here for it. Now where’s the menu… Nanami thought to herself, glancing around.

“There’s no menu miss,” the barkeep replied confidently to her unasked question as he polished a glass. “we make things custom here. Tell me what kind of spirits and flavors you like, and we’ll go from there.”

“Oh, now that’s interesting. Let’s see I’m ordering two drinks, but for me personally, I like gin... green tea.. and…lavender? Yup. I like lavender.” She said thinking carefully about the ingredients and how they’d mix.

“Those are great flavors. I’ll start working on it now. And for your friend?”

She was much more careful about Hitomi’s, wanting to reward her friend for being so thoughtful in choosing this place. “ Hm… She likes rum, most spicy things, and cinnamon.”

“Got it. Sit tight and I’ll have those drinks out for you in a second.”

“Thanks!”

Friendly staff, lowkey, and interesting drinks? Yeah, I could really get used to this place. Nanami thought contently, already plotting her next visit. She was about to wave down Hitomi to let her know she’d secured the drink order, but someone she assumed to be the manager she mentioned earlier was making conversation and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Not wanting to interrupt, she stayed at the bar, content to be hypnotized by the barkeep’s expert work in making their ~mystery drinks~.

Just as she was fully relaxing, the door opened, but there was no exchange of passwords this time. She turned to see who the VIP who bypassed the system could be and—Omfg. No,no,no. Absolutely not. Nanami thought as her eyes went wide before she snapped her head back forward, attempting to hide her face. What the hell is he doing here?? Ok don’t panic. Don’t panic. There is zero reason to panic… but still why??” Nanami lamented inwardly. She was tipsy, enjoying herself and definitely not in the proper state to deal with him, but here he was.

Overhaul casually strutted into the room like he owned the place, and Nanami quickly realized it was probably because he did. Shit.

Her hair was in a different style, long enough to hide her face, and the lights were low. She prayed it would be enough to keep him from recognizing her. After a couple minutes she was curious as to where he was, hoping he had silently left the room. Not being completely sober, she thought opening up her selfie camera would grant her an ingenious vantage point of the room. She opened it up and saw him sitting casually in a booth behind her, calmly observing the room while two men sat with him, conversing like old friends. If she hadn’t known who he was, she’d think he was just another very hygienic, handsome stranger—Handsome? Where the hell did that come from, Nanami thought to herself, blaming it on the shots from earlier.

Looking up, she could see the shelving that held the liquor and herbs behind the bar was backed with a stylish mirror. Not wanting to look like a creep with her camera open the whole night, she closed her phone and peered at the mirror, continuing to observe him observing other people. Looking closely, she could see what he was wearing now. He was in his trademark black button-up and slacks, but this time his sleeves were rolled up neatly to his forearms and he went without a tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone exposing a thin gold chain that matched the studs in his ears and the slightest bit of cleavage. Nanami cleared her throat, continuing to study him. His gloves were black this time, matching the rest of his all-black look. He for sure has a closet neatly lined with 100 of the same outfit. Nanami contemplated as she sipped the drink the bartender had handed her. She’d thanked him, but she was massively distracted while doing so. Her eyes roamed up towards his face, and – Shi—Fuck! Nanami exclaimed inwardly, trying not to choke on her drink as she saw him staring right back at her through the mirror, brow raised questioningly at her. Clearing her throat, she pretended as though nothing had happened, suddenly very interested in her drink.

Just as she was about to look back at the mirror to make sure he hadn’t noticed her lame attempt at espionage, she felt a hand place itself on the small of her back. “You alright miss?”

She looked up to see a man she hadn’t met before. He was dressed in a suit, his hair slicked back and neat. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Coupled with the fact that his hand was still firmly placed on the small of her back, Nanami was beginning to get uncomfortable. “Yes, I’m alright, thank you.” She said with a cheery smile, hoping he would go away.

“It’s not a problem, anything for a beautiful lady.”

Ugh, gag. Nanami reacted instinctually. The entire internet exists and pick-up lines are still this corny…

“So you wouldn’t have helped me if I was unattractive?”

“We—Well no—I mean yes! What I mean to say is, could I buy you a drink?”

Waving her drink, still-half full, she replied” No thank you, I’m covered for now.”

“And what about later?” He intoned suggestively moving further into her personal space.

“Yeah, no. I’m good for... a while. Like a really long while.” She retorted, in her mind effectively shutting him down.

A look of annoyance flashed across his face before he maneuvered his hand from the small of her back to her thigh, “I find that hard to believe. You’re here alone so why not leave with some company?” He was close enough she could smell the alcohol on his breath. About to refute him by saying she’d come with a friend, she saw Hitomi heading for the bathroom. DAMN YOUR BLADDER HITOMI Nanami cursed inwardly.

Just as she was about to pop off, she saw the man’s face sour as he looked behind her. “Haven’t you been rejected enough for one night? Take a hint.” She’d recognize that tone of arrogance anywhere.

“Um, I can speak for myself.” She said to Overhaul who was now standing at her side. Turning she looked the other man in the eye, “Take a hint.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is. My apologies, I didn’t know the lady was claimed.” He said removing his hand, taking a step back from her.

“Claimed” whose backwards ass mans is this? Nanami thought, getting progressively irritate.

“Well now you know.” Overhaul replied gravely as he stepped closer to her side. Nanami quickly reeled in her look of surprise at the proximity before using her liquid courage to steel her gaze at the unwanted party.

The other man smiled hollowly, putting his hands up in joking surrender. “Well, it’s a shame we couldn’t pursue this connection further. It looks like I’ll be taking my leave, have a nice night~.” And with that he disappeared into the crowd.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nanami quickly found herself holding her breath again as she realized the predicament, she was in. Still close to him she slowly looked up to meet his gaze. She expected to get a smart remark, but he stood silently for a couple moments, studying her. She suddenly felt very vulnerable as his eyes roamed over her and she instinctually shifted in her seat. Seemingly realizing what he was doing, he stepped back a bit, looking away, and Nanami found herself missing the warmth.

Feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, she quickly turned forward again, now fiddling with the straw in her drink. After a moment of tension, she finally spoke.

“I could’ve handled myself.” He quickly turned his head back to her, giving an incredulous look before she finished, “… But thank you.”

His gaze softened, as he sighed and she could tell he was keeping whatever smart remark he had to himself, “You’re welcome.” He said as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dusted off the seat next to her before sitting down. He waved down the bartender who quickly dropped what he was doing to start his drink. Nanami was about to gloss over this detail until the possibility of seeing his face hit her.

Biting her lip and looking around nervously, Nanami wasn’t sure where to take this next. Does this even need to be taken anywhere next?... can it? She thought semi-hopefully, before mentally slapping herself for being tempted so easily. You are tipsy and thirsty. He doesn’t even see you that way, just a colleague helping out another colleague. Stop making it weird.

“Soo…” she began, nervously tucking a stray hair behind her ear “What brings you here?”

He turned; his brow furrowed.

“Ok, that was cheesy.”

Rolling his eyes he put her out of her misery by answering, “Just business.”

“Yup. Don’t know why I even as—”

“And... I like it here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Well sure, but I just never imagined you liked anything outside of cleaning and…” She pantomimed a little explosion.

He huffed, bringing a hand up to his mouth. Nanami would usually let it slide, but she was 3 drinks in, and feeling talkative. “Was that a laugh?”

“Absolutely not.” He quickly replied, looking away.

Her eyes lit up with excitement. He’s lying. “It’s alright, I won’t tell. My lips are sealed.” She winked.

“It will be easy since there’s nothing to tell.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Hmm,” Nanami hummed, a look of mischief clear on her face, “challenge accepted.”

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously,” What do you mean.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, I just have a new goal. You’ve inspired me,” she replied simply pulling her mini-planner and a pen from her bag. She could feel him eyeing her waiting for an answer, but she continued without a word. Opening the notes section, she turned to fully face him, holding the small booklet between them in one hand with a pen in the other. Glancing between him and the booklet, she began writing something. After a few seconds of this, she nodded to herself in approval and set the planner down on the bar.

Watching her intently, he looked down to see what she’d been scribbling. Even with most of his face covered, she could tell he frowned, as he shifted his gaze back up to her looking completely done with her foolery. It was a simple doodle of what he could only assume was himself, as the only three features in the portrait were his plague mask, short hair, and two dots she meant to be exaggerated angry eyes. Returning his stare, quite proud of herself, she dramatically lifted the pen before placing two tally marks.

“… What is that.” He asked, obviously irritated. She smiled, unclicking her pen while maintaining eye contact. A few months ago she would have taken his irritation very differently, but over time she came to realize just how fun it was to tease him. Being so serious all the time, he’s practically begging for it. Nanami thought, already enjoying herself.

“What do you mean?” Nanami responded feigning innocence.

“Ignoring that terrible attempt at a portrait, I’m referring to the tally marks. What do they mean and why are there already two of them?”

“First of all, you have wounded me. To question my artistic ability so openly… Haven’t you seen the meticulous diagrams I put into our notes?”

“Yes. I have Kurono redraw them after you leave so people won’t think I’m working with a child.” He deadpanned.

Her brows shot up, her face incredulous at the petty remark. He let out another huff, similar to before. Nanami’s mischievous smile returned as she confidently went to put down another tally. What she knew was a smile underneath his mask seemed to drop as he looked at the notebook and then to her in realization.

She raised a brow, continuing to play dumb,” What? I thought we were having a laugh?”

“Erase it. Now.” He said, placing a finger on the bar to emphasize the “now”.

“… I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re always so particular about taking notes, you should be happy.”

“You truly vex me.”

“… That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Say it again, slower this time.” She meant to say it playfully leaning closer, but it came out way more sultry than she meant it to thanks to the alcohol. They were mere inches away, close enough that she could smell his cologne and discern the specific hue of gold of in his eyes, I always thought they were more yellow gold, but there’s a little saffron in there too... Registering that she was in fact too close, she quickly sat back in her chair, turning her face which felt very warm all the sudden. She had just finished her drink but pretended to be thoroughly invested in it as she stared straight forward. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his head tilt and would bet money he was smirking under that mask. As he leaned towards her, she felt her heart racing, What’s he doing? Why am I so nervous all the sudden?? Just as she braced herself for the unknown, she heard him pick up her pen. Her notebook still open, he began to write something, though the proximity made her too tense to look. Cautioning a glance, she did a double take as she saw him draw a tally mark next to a small doodle she knew was meant to be a portrait of her.

Looking back up at him as he laid down her pen, she managed to get out,” What does that mean?”

“As you so eloquently put it before, ‘you’ve inspired me’.” He replied simply. The bartender nervously placed the new drink in front of them and Overhaul rose to leave.

Still taking in the exchange, Nanami could only think to ask, “You’re just going to leave your drink here?”

“You can have it; I’ve taken enough of your time. Good evening, Dr. Watanabe.” He nodded to her and then someone behind her before leaving, the two other men he came with following shortly after.

“Well, well, well I didn’t know my friend was such a little minx,” Hitomi purred from behind her, wiggling her brows suggestively.

“What do you?... NO. That was—Just no. Absolutely not. That was my research pa—a colleague.” She responded emphatically, her cheeks still too warm for her liking.

“Wish I had a colleague that looked like that~.”

“Don’t make it weird. Where were you anyway? I needed you a while ago.” Nanami said pouting.

“Sorry I got caught up in conversation with the manager here and when I went to the little girls’ room I saw what I presumed to be a mack session after that creep in the suit left. I just decided to let you work your magic in peace.”

“There was in fact no ‘mack session’. And you weren’t going to come over and back me up when that creep was on my case earlier?”

“When have I ever left you high and dry?” Hitomi asked, offended at the implication that she’d just abandon her friend. “I only stayed put because you were all hugged up with your ‘colleague’ and looked like you had it handled.”

Nanami immediately regretted the insinuation. Hitomi had always had her back and she was just projecting because she knew the truth. Though it turned out alright in the end, when the creep was harassing her, she felt helpless for a moment and she hated it. She didn’t want to have to be saved next time, she wanted to save herself.

“I’m sorry, I just felt small in that moment and lashed out at you. That wasn’t fair.”

“I understand, and forgive you,” Hitomi replied softly, hugging her friend from the side. “You didn’t ask for advice, but if you want some, I highly recommend taking some self-defense classes. People always say you’ll forget all the steps in the moment, but at the very least it might give you a confidence boost.”

“That’s not a bad idea. First thing come Monday; I’m going to start looking. Thanks for being such a good friend.” Nanami smiled warmly. “Now, enough with the serious stuff. You ma’am, owe me a sleepover.”

“Oh, I owe you some hang time now? Well let’s go then. I’ll get a drink too and then we can bounce.”

Nanami was confused for a second before remembering Overhaul had left a drink that she was now responsible for finishing. Sighing and dreading as to what kind of boring drink someone like him would order, she was surprised to see another of her own. Smiling to herself for a moment, she sipped slowly. It was naïve to take his act of kindness at face value, but she found herself contented with the turn of events all the same.

#same difference #overhaul #overhaul x oc #overhaul fanfiction #mha overhaul #mha oc #mha fanfic #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #bnha fanfic #bnha #bnha oc #overhaul fanfic #overhaul fluff

17 notes · View notes

princessozera · 4 years ago

Text

Not OM, I just wanted to post here the first ever fic I actually wrote and published

I WOULD LIKE TO SAY AS A DISCLAIMER EVEN THOUGH I PUBLISHED IT LAST YEAR (2 years ago?) I WAS ACTUALLY YOUNGER WHEN I WROTE THIS. I DO NOT SIMP FOR DAMIAN LIKE THAT ANYMORE, HE IS MY SON.

The Only Exception

(Aged up/Older Damian Wayne x OC)

The seats are filled, the air is comforting, music and perfume floating in the air. Today Rosella Anderson is to be wed to Damian Wayne. But, weddings never quite go according to plan. Talia and Ra's Al Ghul have made it clear they don't like her, on multiple occasions. But with no less than 50 trained fighters and investigators on both sides of the aisle, nothing can interrupt or ruin her special day...... Right?

Chapter 1: Getting Married Today

"Come on, suck it in!"

"I HAVEN'T EVEN EATEN TODAY!" I whined as Alice yanked the ribbons on my corset tighter.

"WATCH IT!" Crystal swats away Alice's hands and undoes the ribbons a bit. "Suffocate her and she doesn't make it down the aisle, pack her like a sausage and my hours of makeup will have gone to waste!" She huffed and finish tying the ribbons, satisfied that they weren't too tight.

"I don't think I ever really appreciated the amount of work it takes to make curly hair not be frizzy," Barbra Gordon says between sips of champagne, lounging on the hotel bed.

"That's why I don't do my hair that often," I laugh, sitting on an ottoman so Alice can put my veil on and Crystal can help me put on my garter. My maid of honor, Cassandra Cain, came over and tried to feed me some fruit slices. I tried to argue, but I couldn't hold my own as she stared me down. I let her feed me some cantaloupe slices until she was satisfied and went off to finish getting ready.

"You really are a queen today!" Stephanie laughed as she walked around the room again, holding a video recorder. I tried to hide my face, but she grabbed my hand and swung it around. "A beautiful princess for Gotham's own prince! Tell us, your majesty, how are you feeling, about to be married off to Gotham's richest stone statue?" The girls laughed but I just shook my head at her. "Me, Tim, and Dick are making a documentary for you two. Any words for the lucky man? Anything you want to say to your future self, your family, your future kids? " Whistles and laughs went around the room and I couldn't help but blush.

"Well, let's take this one step at a time," I laughed to hide my own embarrassment. "Damian," I started, looking directly into the camera, "I don't believe in love at first sight, but damn did we square up on first sight. Not many people can say they had a full on MMA fight with their future spouse within minutes of meeting them. Yet, after that whole fiasco was solved, you've never been anything but gentle with me. People always said we wouldn't last; lava and ice. Water and a drought. Incompatible. But you were the first to look past who I had to be, to see who I was trying to be. You brought me a family, and I like to think I've brought you some serenity. I don't believe in destiny, and I'm not too sure about fate, but I believe in us. I believe that I'll fight for you until the end of time because you'd do the same for me. Because you are my home, and there's no place I'd rather be." I get choked up, wanting nothing more than to have him in my arms right now. I missed him like hell, even though it's only been 2 days since I've seen him.

"This isn't the time to start reciting your wedding vows silly," Cass said and I couldn't help but giggle. She wipes away the tears that I hadn't felt form, making sure to not mess with my mascara. Stephanie sighs happily and puts the camcorder down, reaching over to hug me.

"I'm so glad I get to be your sister," she whispered to me, and I hugged back tighter. We both jerked in surprise at the knock at the door. I immediately reached for my bag, looking for my well-worn notebook, but Cass's hand steadied me. Barbra got up, fixed her dress and went over to the door.

"Who is-" She stiffens up immediately, hand pulling back from the handle. "It's Talia." Stephanie immediately got in front of me, and I grabbed Cass's hand as she reached for her own bag, searching for her gun. I'd never told my friends about Talia, but they took the hint found their way to their respective bags, throwing knives and whips at the ready. Truthfully, I was finding it a little hard to breathe and I doubt it was the dress. The knock came again, more insistent, but no one moved.

"It's your call Rose," Barbra said, her eyes never leaving the door.

"Let her in," I tug on Cass's arm and she helps me stand up. "If she wanted me offed, she would have gotten someone else to do it. Or at least she wouldn't have knocked." Crystal and Alice look between all of us in alarm and decide to take the window as Stephanie goes to back up Babs by the door. The door opens, and there stands Talia, as beautiful and regal as ever. She glances over everyone before finally meeting my eyes.

"Lady Al Ghul, please come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I said, fidgeting with my dress. She steps in, nodding to Babs and Stephanie.

"I'd like to have a word with you before the ceremony," She says, running her hand along the wet counter cluttered with makeup. "Alone," She said with a pointed look when no one moved. That harsh edge was enough to get everyone to cover or flank me again. She didn't respond to this, simply staring at me. I put my hand on each girl's back, one by one.

"Go, I'll be fine. We'll be right here," Babs stares me down, but I nod back. She caves and starts to leave; Alice, Crystal and eventually Stephanie following behind, after she grabs something off the bed. Cass refused to move.

"Do I need to remind you that you can barely move your waist in that monstrous dress? She'd get to you before any of us were the wiser," She whispered in my ear, holding my arm pretty tightly. I wormed my way out of her grasp and grabbed the worn notebook from my bag.

"I promise, it'll be fine. Anyways, I forgot there were 2 more things I needed to do," I flipped through the pages quickly, finding what I needed and handing it to her. "If you could please take care of it? You should be done by the time we're done talking and we can head to the venue." Cass read through it quickly, then looked at me again. She gave a curt nod and walked out as well.

"We'll be right outside," Babs says pointedly before closing the door. Talia and I stood in silence for a moment, before she slowly stalked towards me until she was less than 6 feet away.

"Lady Al-"

"Your still not worthy of my son." oop. Right to the point, as always. Can't say it didn't hurt.

"You're a commoner, a nobody. No title, no land, not even superior health to your name. You failed classes in high school, went to college on scholarships, and couldn't land a proper role in your field until a year in. Failure, after pitfall, after failure." JESUS CHRIST THIS LADY DID HER RESEARCH. My face burned in humiliation, but nothing I could say now would justify everything she just listed out. "And yet... Damian loves you."

"I may not like you, but I know how I raised him, and Bruce has done a good job of bringing up a boy worth more than the names he was born into. Wayne. Al Ghul. Damian. I will have faith in his choice, he is not a stupid boy. Foolish and stubborn yes, but not stupid. If he thinks you are worthy, there may be hope for you yet." holy shit, no way, is this actually happening? I'm too stunned to say anything, just grateful that my mouth isn't hanging open.

"When you return from your honeymoon I expect you to face me in a formal duel and undergo training as necessary," she puts her hands on her hips, challenging me to argue with her, but I was so happy I had to restrain myself from hugging her.

"It would be an honor to battle you Lady Al Ghul," I say, finding my tongue, stifling my giddiness with a bow, and a hand over my chest.

"Talia is also acceptable." She says with a nod, taking another step forward and adjusting the skirt of my dress and finally my veil before turning starting to walk back to the door. "My father and I will also be in attendance to this event, but if you ever wish to gain even an ounce of his approval, you'll need to do another more traditional ceremony at a later date." My heart swelled, and for a second, I legitimately thought I was going to break down crying. This was better than anything I could have prepared for. I couldn't just let her walk out like that.

"Damian'll be elated!" I yelled out to keep my voice from cracking. Talia stops, and I gush on. "I know you haven't had the easiest of relationships, with conflicting ideology and all, but he really does love you, and Ra's, even if he doesn't say it. He looks up to you guys and wants to make you proud. You being here will mean the world to him." I force myself to stop talking before I say something weird or bad. Talia turns back to me, walks up swiftly, and hugs me. I'm stiff in surprise, but manage to hug her back before she gives me one last nod and walks out. Everyone runs back in the second Talia is out.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt anywhere?" Babs immediately grabs my arms and starts inspecting me up and down for any sign of injury.

"Don't cry don't cry!" Alice pleads with me, fanning my face to prevent the tears from falling.

"Talia hugged her, check her back and skirt for anything weird," I look over to Stephanie, who was staring down at her camcorder. Had she left that hidden on the bed? I didn't even notice. But it was so sweet. I could show Damian later all the sweet words his mother said about him.

"Jesus, you're so teary today," Cass mumbles as she does her own inspection of my dress. When she's done, she sees my tears are of joy, so she hugs me. "Your journal's impressive," she says handing back my heart covered notebook. I'm still choked up and trying not to bawl in relief so once everyone was satisfied that I wasn't going to drop dead in the middle of the aisle, they sat me down so I could calm down while they finished up. I collected myself, the extremity of these emotions leaving me exhausted. I drifted off with the warm glow of my friend's laughter and love filling the air.

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

"No way, you did not fall asleep!"

"Get up get up get up!"

"Cass, I'm fully warning you right now. If she falls asleep at the ceremony like this, I'm throwing my bouquet at her head"

"You might have to beat Stephanie to it," Cass giggles, as she gently shakes me awake. I take a second to reorient myself, blinking the drowsiness out of my eyes, and stretching.

"Ooh, we could coordinate it though!" Stephanie perks up, "if she falls asleep; Alice and Crystal, take your flowers and make it rain, and then Babs, Cass and I hit her in the head. Guaranteed it'll wake her up!" We all laugh and I get up, taking a minute to appreciate my beautiful friends. It was a debated choice, but the deep purple fit everyone perfectly. We did have to make a few adjustments to Stephanie's overall look though, to keep her from looking too similar to her alter ego, Spoiler. Bouquet in every pair of hands, key cards in garter wallets and phones on silent, we made our way down to the venue.

"We're only running 10 minutes behind, it couldn't be helped," Babs tries to calm my nerves as I all but start jumping in the elevator. Cass also had to put a hand on my waist to pull me back when I almost ran to my place. She escorted me around to the side doors; the girls and I were coming in from the right, Damian and his groomsmen were coming in from the left. He had wanted to avoid any issue of who should walk him down the aisle; I thought it was cute how he couldn't choose between Dick and Bruce. Cass and I were slow dancing to calm my nerves when the rest of the girls came back.

"Pianist and minister are ready" -Babs

"Decorations are gorgeous and on point, everyone is in their seat and there are no fussy children" -Alice

"Lights, audio and AC are perfect and photographers are also ready" - Crystal.

I nodded, yes, everything was going smoothly. Of course, I had used everything I had when planning this. I was floating on cloud nine, simply nodding along when Babs spoke up.

"Has anyone seen Stephanie?" she asks, grip tightening on her bouquet. No one knew so we all just waited around for 5 minutes, everyone starting to get fidgety. Stephanie came back, 10 minutes later, looking a little out of breath and a bit pale, even under her makeup.

"Ok so there's a situation,- the guys are running late but it's okay they're o their way, they'll be here in 20 minutes!" Stephanie sped through the second half of her sentence when she saw that I was going to panic. I breathed out in relief and nodded, satisfied.

"I'll make the announcement, Dick probably went overboard trying to do his hair again," Babs snickered and headed into the ceremony hall. We played a light game of ninja as we waited to hear from the guys, but I soon became hyper-aware of time passing. I don't have the best perception of time, I don't even have a good memory, but I caught the looks my bridesmaids were giving each other.

The questioning looks.

The worry.

I let myself get kicked out of the next round and walked a little ways off, pulling my phone out and calling the number I knew by heart, ignoring the time that read that I was now almost 40 minutes late to my own wedding. The phone rang 3 times, and I turned away from my girls who were really getting into this game, rooting for Cass or Alice to win.

"Damian!" I sighed in relief when the line clicked. "hey, how much longer do you think you guys will be in traffic? If it's going to be another while, I can have it arranged so snacks and drinks are handed out so no one gets restless. I could also give the pianist a break, he's been playing the same chorus on repeat for the last half hour-" I let my voice trail off as I was met by a stone wall of silence. Not even a joke from Dick or Tim or Duke. I waited him out, after a minute of silence, Damian spoke up.

"I'm sorry beloved, I can't do this."

"What?" I asked, but my voice was so thin and breathy I doubt he heard me.

"I can't go through with this. This marriage, this wedding. It's all a joke. Who even cares about this mess? It's all so... stupid. Pointless." not a hint of hesitation, voice more ruthless than I had ever heard it. No. No way. was he serious!? I struggled to find my words, I shook with the pure effort of breathing normally even though I felt like I was having an actual heart attack; tight chest, palpitations, the whole 9 yards. Tremors ran through my body and I finally managed to choke out "Damian-"

"Goodbye Rosella" the line clicked off and I take a shuddering breath.

"Rose?" Cass says, gently putting a hand on my shoulder.

"He's not coming."

"What?"

"He's not coming!" I shriek, clutching my waist to stop my stomach from churning but to no avail; at least I didn't have much of lunch to throw up.

"What do you mean he's not coming!" Babs demands, yelling from where she was

"shit"

We all turn and there stands Jason, looking uncomfortable as hell and very much like he didn't want to be here. That confirmed it for everyone. Alice, Crystal, and Babs started yelling questions at Jason. Stephanie pulled out her own phone and started dialing a bunch of numbers but it seemed like no one was answering. Cass tried to speak with me, but my ears were ringing, it all sounded like white noise. And I felt cold. but hot. but freezing. I raise my hand and draw everyone's attention, all becoming deadly silent.

"Alice, Crystal. please go tell the pianist, the minister, and the photographer. Give them my email so I can settle up the charges later. Stephanie and Cass, please go see if we can keep the party reservations for tonight. Everyone else should enjoy them, even if there is no.... Barbra, could you please break the news that I... we..." everything got really blurry for a second and the floor rushed up to meet me, but I caught myself on the table before I could pass out completely.

Not here, not in front of them. Don't put them through a breakdown.

Everyone was fussing, but I couldn't stand here for another second. "Go. I just want to be alone. Please. go. GO!" I yelled and they all dispersed, shooting me worried looks. Cass gave me a long hug before she decided I needed a moment alone.

"Don't move from here." She instructed me. "Go get the guys," she demanded to Jason before going off. Jason looked at me sadly, trying to find the right words to say.

"Rose-"

"Please leave." he walked away without another word. Once I was sure he was out of earshot, I ran with everything I had out of the hallway.

Pardon me is everybody there

because if everybody's there id like to thank you all for coming to the wedding

I appreciate you going even more

I mean you must have had better things to do.

Thank you all for the gifts and the flowers,

Thank you all, now it's back to the showers

but I guess I'm not getting married today

The perfume is suffocating, overly sweet, fake as plastic, thick as sugar. I can't breathe, but I don't need air to run. Don't stop, move. Move. Move. The ribbons are strangling me. The garter is cutting off my circulation. Gloves are hurting me. High heels, weak ankles. My rolls of fat spilling out of the dress. rolls and rolls and rolls and rolls and rolls. can't stand. can't wait, I throw open the door to the stairs and take them in 3s.

Listen, everybody,

look, I don't know what you're waiting for.

A wedding. What's a wedding?

It's a prehistoric ritual

Where everybody promises fidelity forever,

Which is maybe the most horrifying word I ever heard of,

Which is followed by a honeymoon, where suddenly he'll realize

He's saddled with a nut, and want to kill me, which he should.

Thanks a bunch, but I'm not getting married

I scream as my veil gets caught in the handrail, yanking my head back, falling down a couple of stairs. No question, I rip it off. It stings, it hurts, bobby pins forcefully ripped out. The shoes go too, heels are stupid, why are they so tall. Tall and tall and make my knees wobbly. The taller they are the harder they fall. Up the stairs, 3 at a time, legs on fire. Don't stop, don't stop, hike the dress up and keep running all the way to the 50th floor.

Go have lunch, 'cause I'm not getting married

You've been grand, but I'm not getting married

Don't just stand there, I'm not getting married

But I'm not getting married today.

I slam open the hotel room door, to hell with neighbors. Suffocating, burning, melting heat. I rip off the gloves, scream as I can't get the ribbons out of my dress. I scream, jump, squirm and throw myself around until it finally comes off.

He didn't come. shut up.

He didn't want to. SHUT THE HELL UP

I felt everything to an extreme degree. Too much. Why am I breathing so heavily? Why am I sweating bullets!? I throw my hair up in a ponytail, yank the garter off, tripping over my own two feet. My phone falls next to my head and the only thing I can think to do is to throw it into the toilet. I grab my honeymoon bag- no, my emergency bag that happened to have cute clothes instead of food, and switch into my leggings and a t-shirt. It's all I had. It's all I could ask for.

Go! Can't you go?

Why is nobody listening?

Goodbye! Go and cry

At another person's wake.

If you're quick, for a kick

You could pick up a christening

But please, on my knees,

There's a human life at stake!

I'm parkouring down the stairs, jumping entire sections, falling on knees, but ignoring the pain to jump again. Emergency phone in one hand, I order the uber, start the bank transaction, even though I have to read everything 10 times for it to make sense. What do? where go? don't know. not here. One bad jump and I collapsed entirely, but as I scrambled to throw everything back in my bag, I see the plane tickets. yes. away. out. not here. leave.

Go! Can't you go?

Look, you know I adore you all

But why watch me die

Like Eliza on the ice?

Look, perhaps I'll collapse

In the apse right before you all

So take back the cake

Burn the shoes, and boil the rice

Out of the stairway, but slammed into a wall. Around the corner, Alice and Babs and Crystal and Jason and Stephanie and Cass and Bruce and Selina and Duke and Tim and Dick and Alfred.

Remember when you first met them? He swore he'd protect you but that they'd love you. please stop! I begged myself, think of anything, anything but him. anything but this. Get out, then we can cry, but not here, not now. I watched them split up, so I hid behind a corner farther back. Steph and Cass took up the stairs. Everyone else was gone so I ran out the back door. Out of the hotel, away from the perfume, away from the flowers, the candles, the dresses. From them. And by some small miracle, the car was already here. I jump in, only taking a second to notice that it was, in fact, an uber.

"Hello, ma'am! How are-"

"Please! Just go!" my voice breaks and the tears start up again. I brush them aside furiously/ doing everything in my power not to start sobbing, but he listens to me and speeds off.

BECAUSE I'M NOT GETTING MARRIED TODAY

(A twist on this song that actually inspired this whole fic)

Chapter 2: On The Run

I'm going to kill him

Why didn't he show up?

How fucking dare he

Was it something I did?

I was nervous too bitch; I drank a shot of tequila and sucked it up!

Was it something HE did? Was Talia lying? Did Ra's kidnap Damian? Why did the boys wait to tell us? Did Stephanie know that something was up? Do any of them even-

"Ughhhh," I groaned audibly as my thoughts and emotions started to run together. It had been a while since anything left me this.... discombobulated. Exhausted. A mess. I'd almost forgotten how awfully I reacted to being overwhelmed and out of control. The uber driver shot me a curious look but didn't say anything. Keep it together Rosella. Just, go home and.. I flinched, chagrined at my own stupidity. "Get somewhere safe" I amended under my breath, "and then you can have as big of a breakdown as you want. Just, be a stone again. Close it all out. Suppress the fire, drown the noise." I rubbed my eyes, the dry burn giving me the weirdest throbbing headache.

The ride to the airport was stiff, to say the least. My driver kept trying to talk to me, but my responses were so dry he gave up. He didn't question the extra stop at the bank, even while he waited outside for half an hour while I verified with tellers inside that I was, in fact, the owner of the account and that I was draining it.

Erase your tracks. You were never here. Are you even alive?

Still, we got to the airport as quickly as I could have hoped for and made sure to give him a large tip for his troubles. I walked through the airport, undoubtedly looking like some pompous bitch with only a stone face and backpack, my actual suitcase left behind in my whirlwind out. I only had some snacks, a Nintendo ds, some stationary things, deodorant, and a toothbrush. I hadn't even remembered to grab my disposable water bottle, toothpaste, or hair brush before leaving. Whatever.

It was almost flawless. I bypassed the checked bag lines, slid right through TSA (bless you TSA Pre-check), although I did get some looks when they checked my bag. I guess overall I looked like I should be getting on a school bus instead. I sat down at a cafe and pulled out the tickets, 2 first class tickets to Malaga, Spain.

I'd set up our honeymoon as a complete surprise to Damian. Bruce and the boys had worked so hard to help me clear out a whole month from his schedule. I'd gone through hell and back to make sure all of my project managers could handle any situation that could happen either in making or transporting our different projects out... We were supposed to be jumping cities for a month in Europe. Cities with small populations, so we could avoid drawing attention, but full of gorgeous architecture and delicious food for me; significant art history and cultural relevance for Damian.

It's going to be a technical nightmare to cancel all of those reservations and getting the tickets switched and sold. Do people even actually do that? But I have to, I don't know where I'm going but I don't want any of them to tra- SHIT. My head snaps up and one quick look around tells me I'm already too late. I spot 5 cameras easily.

I grab my things and head over to a gift shop. I grab bunches of clothes and accessories off of the shelves, hurrying off to pay and doing my best to avoid cameras now as I sneak off into the restroom. I throw on some atrocious sundress, flats, and a baseball cap, flipping my hair twice in an attempt to make it look like a pixie cut. For a second I consider actually finding something sharp to hack my hair off.

I need you to not be a social breakdown cliche for a minute, it took you years to properly grow those curls out. Please don't waste my efforts. Yeah, it's for the better, I look like Dora the Explorer with short hair anyway. Tim wouldn't sell me out to Damian, right? LMAOO he bailed at the wedding you really think he wants to hunt you down?? Or what if Tim wants to find me? Or anyone else? Damian's pretty good at following people. Even then, Babs, Cass, Roy are competent hackers, any of them could find my data and track me down... Are any of them even on my side?... I couldn't help but let out a whimper. I pursed my lips, placing my hands on the cold sink to calm myself. What's my plan anyways? I can't go to any of the cities in Europe where I already have reservations. Too easy. I could go to the Netherlands...

"But Damian knows where I lived there, because of the time we visited my friends," I sigh out loud, facepalming. "But not entirely a bad idea..." I say as I start flipping through the different cities I've lived through. Netherlands, Italy, Spain, Germany, France, Croatia, Portugal, Malta, Romania, Hungary, Austria, are all out. We'd either been there or they were part of the honeymoon plan. I didn't want any reminder of him.

Actually, all of Europe is out. I've raved about it too much. We've been too many places, we both had too many ties scattered throughout Europe. I can't speak Russian, Talia and Ra's have connections all across the middle east, and the north half of Africa. Jason and Cass had some unexplainable ties across north and south america. With every city I named, I hated myself more for talking so much. For trusting him with these memories.

Honeysuckle kisses on cotton candy memories.

shut up.

Isn't there ANYWHERE I've lived and worked that my big mouth hadn't mentioned? As I was starting to get desperate and the headache started acting up again, I found actually ecstatic relief. That would be actually literally perfect. God bless my forgetful memory. The apartment I'd never sold. The country I actively avoided talking about because Damian would get jealous.

I snuck out of the bathrooms and headed over to customer service. I had to work my way past a large group of people. Overhearing snippets of conversation, apparently, their flight is somewhere between delayed or canceled. Inspiration hit me. Give the ticket to someone here. Send them to Spain, let them stay at the hotel. He could follow a cold lead. This would give me enough time to go to one country and get a ticket to where I actually wanted to go.

I look around the group. Too many were in pair or more. Some looked very buisness-y type. There! A girl who looked like a backpacker was chilling, glancing through her phone. You're going to sound absolutely mental. I approach her nevertheless. I pitched her my idea, but she was rightfully skeptical. I swallowed my pride and told her a cold version of the truth.

"My fiancee left me at the altar. I'm going to Mongolia. I don't want his ticket, I don't want the hotel. Either take it or I'll give it to someone else. Or let it go to waste. I don't care. I don't want it. I'll even pay the name change charge." The anger in my voice came out clear, and by another miracle, she accepted it. We walked over to the help desk and I spoke with the dude behind the counter. He seemed hesitant at first, but he gave me a double take when he checked my reservations. With a brighter smile, he got me on the first flight he could to Mongolia.

"Will that be for both tickets Mrs.Wayne?" He asked cheerfully before reeling back, caught off guard by my watering eyes.

"Anderson. And no," I managed to spit out. I signaled for the girl from earlier to come closer. "I'm transferring the other ticket to her, we need to get the name changed." He looked uncertain but went ahead. If he was accommodating before, I could tell he was bending over backwards now to get everything situated. I could see his concentration as he tried to bypass things without having to question me again.

"Umm, your profile says you've actually been to Belgium before, how was it?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Beautiful and quaint. Great place to relax and enjoy nature if that's your thing. I'd recommend Lithuania too, or Leinchestein." I say, trying to keep a light tone. He nodded happily, seeming to take my recommendations seriously before handing the girl the new plane tickets. We thanked him and headed off on our respective paths, the girl taking a minute to hug me.

" I hope you can heal soon, and wish you a bright future" she whispered to me. I hugged back, trying not to cry again. She bought me a bag of peach gummy rings and left me at my terminal. I dropped some calls out to friends, blessed that they all decided to take one or more of the reservations around Europe I'd had. I kept the details to a minimum but they figured out pretty quickly not to mention me to Damian if they happened to see him. Some small part of me, thankfully more aware than the rest had the foresight to call some utility companies and get everything at my apartment working again.

The help desk attendant worked miracles, my nonstop flight boarded less than an hour later and I had managed to keep a first class seat. I sat down and started doodling nonsense in my journal, blasting music in my headphones. But around 6 hours into this 19-hour flight, exhaustion overcame me and I drifted off to sleep.

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

"Beloved," Damian sighed as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "It's almost 11, we need to get out of bed," he murmured into my hair.

"Nooooooo" I whined, stretching further into the sunlight. The doors were ajar, a nice breeze keeping us cool. I snuggled into him. "We're on a vacation, orders from Bruce. And on vacation, you can stay in bed all day."

"But there might be monsters nearby-" He said mysteriously, catching my attention.

"I didn't get reports of any- AH!" I scream as Damian proceeds to tickle me. "No! Sto-" I try to gasp out between laughing. I manage to fight him, tumbling out of bed. He laughed at me as I tried to untangle myself from the blankets.

"That's a dirty trick Wayne!" I gasp, trying to catch my breath. I grab a pillow and chuck it at him, but he just catches it and throws it back. We have a small impromptu pillow war before he taps out after a good hit knocks him onto the balcony. "BOW TO MY PROWESS!" I jokingly declare, jumping up and down on the ottoman. Damian runs over and sweeps me down.

"Please. Don't. Fall. And. Break. Your. Head" He accentuates every word with a kiss, making me giggle. He lets me go and takes the bathroom to shower first. I head out into the kitchen, humming to myself. I grab some of the fruit we bought yesterday and start making a fruit bowl. I'm halfway through cutting the Jicama when Damian's arms are around my waist again.

"What are you doing?" He asks, resting his chin on my shoulder. Before I could answer, his grip around me tightened. "Be careful!" He whispered harshly, putting his hands over mine. "Your knife skills could use some work, you could have cut your finger off like that!" He scolded me but I scoffed.

"Haven't lost a finger yet"

"No, but you did set your oven on fire. THREE TIMES" He elbowed my side and I pouted.

"Excuse you, that 2nd time wasn't my fault, remember? Dick broke into my place and fell asleep making fish sticks," I retaliated, squirming out of his grip and started making some sandwiches for lunch.

"I really should improve the security at your apartment," Damian says as he finished cutting up the Jicama and strawberries, plating them and dropping them off at the table.

"As if that would stop every vigilante from the northern hemisphere from breaking in," I snorted, bringing over the sandwiches. We ate in peace, letting the soft instrumental music from the radio fill the silence.

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

I sigh happily, turning in my chair, reaching out for Damian's hand. The second I touched the cold seat next to me, my body freezes too. "Damian?" I muttered drowsily, sitting up straight. His bag isn't under his chair. Why am I wearing a dress? Why are my leggings rolled up? I start to panic, breathing rapidly and trying to blink away the tears in my eyes. It's enough to pull me awake and I remember what happened.

"Oh... oh" I hiccup and bite my lip, looking back out the window into the starry night. The tears start falling, but I'm being quiet so I let them. My skin itches. My neck, my wrists, under my eyes. I start scratching, trying to ignore my memories. The trip to Italy, our joint project to improve the villain resistance of the infrastructure of Gotham, the charity events we attended.

"Ma'am?" I look up, a stewardess in the aisle leaning over. I wipe my eyes, catching the furious red color my wrists had become, before turning to her. "Uh, you missed your meal earlier and I was wondering if there was anything I could get you?" She looked uncomfortable now, glancing between my red eyes, red nose, and now red wrists and presumably red neck. I glanced over the menu she handed me, ordering a full meal. She dropped the food off and scurried away, not meeting my eyes.

The meal was laid out beautifully; tomato soup, grilled cheese and grilled chicken with a slice of cheesecake. Yet, I couldn't seem to muster the strength to eat. It didn't really seem appetizing, and I wasn't hungry.

The last time you ate was over 10 HOURS ago, and that wasn't even a full meal. C'mon, one bite. I picked up the fork, but simply twirled it in my hand, watching the metal catch the light. You'll get a raging headache if you don't eat soon. Might get that deep vein thrombosis. I take a bite of the chicken, tasting nothing despite its obvious layer of seasoning. I swallowed it with half a glass of water. It felt thick, heavy, almost like swallowing a rock. But I had to eat. When I didn't immediately throw up, I set up my phone to play a cache of 65 action movies to distract myself and started eating bit by bit. I could tell I was drinking a ridiculous amount of water, but the stewardess replaced my glass without it ever going entirely empty so I didn't really notice how much I had downed. She cleared my tray when I was done, and I just kept watching movies. Whenever I thought I was going to fall asleep, I'd crank the volume up, scroll forward to fight scenes and take a drink of sprite. I was about 4 movies in when I threw off my headphones, whimpering with how severe my headache had gotten despite eating and drinking water.

"Good morning passengers, it is 10 pm and we're about to start our final descent so if you could all please put up your trays and turn off the wifi in your electronics, we'll be landing shortly." Not gonna lie, the time zone jump threw me for a minute, I had taken a second to figure out how we made the flight in 8 hours instead of 19. I shoved everything into my bag, forcing the zipper closed. I wanted to put on some rock or pop punk songs, “Battle On!” seeming weirdly appealing, even though I hadn't heard it in a while. I felt a vein in my neck twitch, so I settled on music from the swan lake instead.

The second we touched down I was up. I only had my backpack so I was able to squeeze by people, ignoring protests and complaints to get off the plane. Off the plane, past the luggage claim, I was going down the escalator when I spotted them. Advika was talking to Zay, looking mad as hell, but she noticed me first. She ran over and almost tackled me to hug me, Zay taking my bag. "Princessa, baby girl, I'm so sorry." She cries into my hair, "I didn't think he was an asshole, oh god, how could he do that to you!"

"We have the plane ready to go," Zay says, joining in on the hug. I let Advika cling to me as we make our way to the opposite side of the airport. Once we're in a more private area, Advika speaks up again.

"I'm going to kill him. How fucking dare he!" She squeezed my hand, and now started pulling me towards the airplane.

"Isn't that Rosella's line?" Zay prods before looking back at me. "But in all seriousness, we will absolutely end him, just say the word. Don't even say it, blink morse code, ASL, anything." I keep my mouth shut and let Advika continue to rave about the different ways she'll end Damian; financially, socially, whatever I wanted. We went out onto the runway and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"The company jet? Isn't that a bit much?" I say as Zay escorts us in, before heading to the back.

"The boss said it's okay. Nearly bit my head off when I called to ask but said it was ok. You did help establish our company in the foreign market," Advika takes a seat but gestures for me to lay down on the couch. "No offense mi princessa, but you look like a fucking mess. Please take a nap."

"I don't know if I can do that," I say, letting out a long sigh. Zay comes back, handing Advika a small purse and laying a platter of cheese and crackers on the table across from us. He sets up instrumental music, from “Carmen” if I'm not mistaken, as Advika takes my hat off and starts combing my hair. I lay back into her, letting her brush out my hair, counting her impeccable pattern. 2 squirts from a spray bottle to moisten my hair, 10 brush strokes. 2 then 10 then 2 then 10. My eyes started feeling heavy so I forced myself to take a deep breath and sit up. The motion made her accidentally yank my hair and woke me a bit. As she apologized I alternated my breathing patterns to try to stay awake, noticing for the first time that we were already in the air.

"Please, just go to sleep," Advika begged, grabbing my hands and forcing me to look at her. I stared at her for a moment before answering.

"I did... on the plane. I dreamed of him. The disorientation of waking up made me think I was on my way to my honeymoon," I let out a bitter laugh and she flinches, looking over to Zay, unsure what to say.

"You look pale," Zay interjects. He comes over to me, placing a hand on my head and then my neck. He doesn't comment on the marks, but he and Advika share a look. "Change your clothes, drink some water, then these, we don't want you getting sick." He puts 2 pills in my hands before going off to find me some water.

"Yeah, getting sick is the absolute worst thing that can happen to me right now. How silly of me," I roll my eyes and Advika snorts, trying to mask her laughter. I leave the Nyquil pills on the couch and get changed. I come back and take the pills, leaning into Advika again so she can continue to play with my hair. She spoke about anything and everything, filling the silence with her happy chatter. Undoubtedly, she was trying to distract my conscious so if I did dream again, it wouldn't be about him. It worked, her happy banter following me into my dreamless slumber.

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

I awoke to Zay gently shaking me, thankfully a lot less disoriented than last time. I gather up my things, helping myself to the bottles of water they had around. I ignore the bandages wrapped around my wrist, but the one on my throat was quickly starting to freak me out. Advika seemed to sense my discomfort, immediately coming over and cutting the bandages off.

"Sorry, your skin seemed a bit raw so we wrapped it up," she explains calmly, alternating to rubbing her hand up and down my arm to soothe me.

"S'ok," I mumble, taking my bag from Zay.

"We called you a cab -it got here a couple of minutes ago-, but you're more than welcome to stay with either of us back in Mongolia. Neha and Juniper also moved here ya know, I'm sure she'd-" I cut Zay off with a shake of my head, and follow him out of the plane.

"I just really want to be alone for a while, ya know?" As alone as I can be with my differing opinions yelling at me and my endless train of thought that does NOT SHUT UP. Zay nodded but Advika grabbed my arm before I could hail the cab closer to the plane.

"I know you want to be alone- and you absolutely do need some time alone, this is going to be a lot to process- but...." She hesitated, biting her lip. "I know how you can get Ro. don't even try to argue with me on this. Please, take some time, but do not hesitate to call me or anyone else." Would this be a bad time to throw up? That's one way to diverge the conversation. Advika held me but I wouldn't meet her eyes. "You know what? If you don't check in with me in a week I will track you down and drag you to live with me. I'm not joking. Do you understand" I want to protest, but then I remember she didn't even have my phone number. Game on. I agree and they both give me a hug before I board the cab.

"Good morning"

"Good morning, where should I take you?" ah. another thing that I hadn't thought of. Without even bothering to check my bag, I knew I didn't have my keys. But I knew someone who might. I give the cab driver an address and I pull out my phone. But I can't even ask because I don't remember her number. I sigh, hoping things hadn't changed as much as I thought.

We're in downtown Seoul before I can start properly stressing myself with the "what ifs". Had she moved? What if she didn't have the key? Would she yell at me for arriving at... Almost 3 am? I decided to do the math to distract myself, reworking the math on how a 4-hour flight turned into a 5-hour flight for a solid 10 minutes before I realized that I had not taken another time zone into play. Small miracles were on my side today. Yesterday? Tomorrow? Whatever the fuck day it is. Since it was so early, there wasn't much in the way of traffic, and the doorman was the same one that had been here when I lived her for however long it was. I explained to him that I was here to see Hong and after some reluctance, he let me in.

Up the elevator to the fifth door, doors opening to crisp air, reminiscent of fall. Exactly 30 steps forward to a door with 4 pastel sierra sunset decorations on the door. I knock, timidly at first as to not wake the neighbors. In 5 minutes, again, a little louder. I did this for an hour before I gave up and simply stood there with my head on the door.

"Hong. Hooooonnnngggggg" I whined quietly. Wow, thank goodness it's so early, everyone would think you're a creeper. lmaooo just imagine getting arrested your first day back. I whined into the door, contemplating just sleeping out here.

"Rosella?" a soft voice came from behind me. I turn to see Hong with Geo's arm around her. There were 2 more people behind her but I barely had the awareness to nod as a greeting. "What are you doing here? Wasn't yesterday your-" She stops, noticing that my lip had begun to tremble.

"Rosella-" she comes over and wraps her arms around me, hiding my face from view of the others. Someone unlocks the door and she drags me inside. The sequins on her dress start to itch, but I continue to hug her. Once I'm ready to let go, she sits me down and goes to change her outfit while Geo sits with me. in awkward silence for a while.

"Rose, what happened?" He eventually asks, sliding over a glass of ice water. "I thought your wedding was yesterday. Wasn't your honeymoon suppose to be in Europe?" I couldn't seem to muster the strength to answer, simply staring at him and sighing.

"You have no tact," Hong comments, combing back in her usual floral pjs. She flops down next to me, placing her hand on mine. "You don't have to tell us now, but I would like for you to tell us eventually." I can't help but smile, she always has a soothing air to her. It's impossible to be mad or upset near her. " I have some clothes you can borrow; I have friends over today so you'll have to take the couch, but you can have the guest room tomorrow." I shake my head, forcing myself to pull away from her motherly touch.

"I could never impose on you, I was just wondering if you have my spare key? I really want to go home." I let my voice crack at the end, hoping she wouldn't push for me to stay here. Geo looked at me like I was crazy, staring particularly long at my single backpack.

"Okay. Geo, could you get her key? It's in the top dresser with a purple tip," Hong nods to him and he leaves. " I do feel the need to remind you that you pretty much purged the place when you left. I don't remember the last time I visited either, so its probably super dusty too."

"I'll make do for tonight. I'll go to the store tomorrow for food and cleaning supplies, ok?"

"You'd better, you forgetful dip stick," Geo grunts as he hands me the key. "Actually, we could probably find somewhere open rn. We could swing by and-"

"I was actually going to walk home it's a nice night and-"

"Absolutely not." Hong interrupted me, sounding her top tier forceful. "I know you've been through some shit in the last 48 hours but I'm not going to let you commit suicide by stupidity!" I took a minute to process this, for a second I thought I was back in Gotham.

"It's not far... I only have my backpack and the crime rates here aren't even that high Hong. You know I took mi-"

"Yes yes, I know about your MMA history, but I draw the line. I don't know how much the others have let you get away with but you are not walking alone at night!" I don't fight her, letting her drag me to her car, Geo driving. We're at my complex within minutes.

"Take care of yourself Rosie." Hong says, giving me a half hug through the car window, Geo simply putting a hand on my head. "I'll come to check up on you- and if you don't answer the door I'll call the cops" she threatened before letting go.

"Thank you, seriously, this is so great that you had my key, and for dropping me off." I hesitate before heading up. "If you don't mind me asking, how long have you two been dating?" Geo's blush was extremely visible against his skin, even in the shadows.

"It's that obvious huh? We've been together for about 5 months," Hong replied, blushing as well.

"I always thought you two would look cute together," I said, this time with a genuine smile. I wave them off and opt to take the stairs up. I opened the door to my apartment.

It's freezing, dust dancing in the waning moonlight. I set my bag down, pulling out another change of clothing from what I had bought at the airport. I threw it into the bathroom before heading over to my emergency closet. Never though the emergency stash would be used like this. Maybe we shouldn't use it? Earth shattering heartbreak is too an emergency, fuck off. I'll restock it anyways. I pull out some towels and bath supplies. I get in the shower, letting the steaming hot water run over me.

Since when have I not been able to feel my fingers? I ask myself, flexing them one by one. It's like the stakeout in Boston that one winter, Dick brought us hot chocolate-

No. Don't even. Dust! This place is messy and I want to properly disinfect it- unconsciously increasing the pressure with my loofah- I'll need Lysol, tide pods, scrubs, dish rags. Probably should buy more plates too. Damian always had a peculiar adoration for matching cutlery sets, when he bought me some ramen bowls-

OW OW OW OW OW OW OW! I jerk up, my hand immediately going to my upper spine. I breathe in too quickly, taking in some water. I pull open the curtain and lean over the tub, cough and sputtering, trying to catch my breath.

"What- the- fuck-" I manage to gasp out. I was sitting down in the tub, I guess I had fallen asleep???? I shake the drowsiness off, turning off the water and getting out. Despite, or maybe because of, my broken sleep this last day I was still exhausted once I had gotten changed and my heartbeat had slowed down. I looked to my room door, but collapsed on the sofa, letting the musty leather suffocate me to sleep as my bones sunk into the couch.

Chapter 3: Safehouse

I awoke the same way I fell asleep.

Suffocating.

I wanted to get up, find a tissue to blow my nose, but every muscle in me ached a million ways. Did I fall off the empire state building while I was asleep? Did some cannibal beat me with a meat tenderizer for hours and just leave me on this couch? Holy FUCK.

Even twisting my face away from the couch so I could get some fresh air strained my neck. Every joint felt dislocated, limbs lifeless like a broken marionette. The dust. Allergies. I can't breathe...

Can't breathe

Suffocating! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE- I panic, throwing myself off the couch. Landing on the ground actually didn't cause any more pain. I laid there for a minute, mentally trying to put my joints back in their sockets. It isn't a large enough distraction, and I'm soon hyper-aware of everything. My skin was burning where the sunlight touched, the dust in the air was so heavy I could have sworn I lost my vision again. I could hear the meaningless hustle of cars and people outside on the sidewalk, but worst of all was my pounding heartbeat in my ears.

THUMP-THUMP THUMP-THUMP THUMP-THUMP

I forced myself to get up, groaning as all my muscles pinched as they got back into place. I made a lot of unnecessary noise as I cleaned up my mess from last night. Throwing the shower caddy under the sink, flipping my backpack and letting everything fall out, slamming my dirty clothes into a pile in a corner. And I couldn't help but look around every couple of minutes, not entirely understanding where I was. Trying and failing to compensate for the noises that usually find me when I wake up. When I threw open the balcony windows, I realized I was still waiting to hear another window slide open and a soft "I'm home", even though it was well past noon.

How wild would it be if he actually went on parole after all that? Would a fight have broken out? Would it have been like the whole Owls mishap again?

Get your head out of your ass, they're his family; blood is thicker than water.

Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

He's been helping and fighting alongside them much longer than you have you dip. I storm into the kitchen, only grunting as I smash my hip against the counter. I set out 4 pages of stationary in front of me and made lists; food, clothes, furniture, extra. I took my papers and started walking around, jotting notes of what I needed. Talking to fill the void.

"More toilet paper, hand soap, towels," I hum under my breath, not really checking the cabinets. "As for clothes I should-" my voice caught when I walked into the bedroom. It was freezing. I reflexively bit my lip, eyes watering. Instead of goosebumps, this cold sat in my stomach. The same cold in my hands, from the airplane seat, returned- lacing up my arms, down my stomach and legs. Stabbing my heart and restricting my lungs.

I'm alone.

"I should buy like 4 interchangeable outfits," the whimper barely sounded through the silent tears. I shut the door tight, almost running back to the living room. I sat just outside the ring of light, hunching over my paper. "Jeans, underwear, toothpasTE-" I sniffled but my vision only got blurrier.

"BoOKcASes, a bEd, mayBE a BeAr," my heart squeezed every time my voice broke, and in seconds I couldn't write on the soaked paper. The hiccups were my only air, snot streaking my trembling chin.

"What did I do? What. diD. I DOOO?" I sobbed, wailing into my hands. I curled around a leg of the coffee table, letting its corners cut into my stomach. Wailing until I was dry heaving, scratching my eyes to get rid of these acidic tears, blowing my nose with my shirt- moist blotches sticking to my skin. "Day- Damian" I cried to myself until I passed out again.

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

Afternoons spent silently reading with each other

Matching outfits for galas, some he designed himself, just for me

Our home downtown- bought to have some peace and quiet from his family. Although half the time they broke in, the other half we ended up back in the manor.

Traveling for work, for fun, for missions he didn't think were dangerous.

Sparring with Jason and Cass.

Jason showing me a hundred new bands when I got him into new music genres, trying to help each other find less aggressive ways to vent. Giving him the cream to completely erase the J from his cheek was different, the first time I saw him cry. He understood that blood family wasn't always loyal, and that I didn't mean it when I'd punch or insult someone to hide softer feelings.

Cass just vibing, understanding me and letting me get close. She was always the first to come help me when I was hurt, I became the person she could cry to. The way her face lit up when we were just able to chill a whole night, singing, watching movies and simply understanding each other on a fundamental level.

Barbra growing aggravated as she tried to teach me how to do more with technology than just googling things. Her forgiving my stupidity after I built her a new computer.

The long talks I had with Dick. Anything and everything. The first time hurt, when I called him out. He was giddy and chipper, dramatic as ever but when he caught me staring and stopped for long enough to look back, the pain in his eyes was clear as day. He had just broken up with Kory after all. He didn't need to lie, he didn't need to lighten the mood, he just needed to be honest. But once he could smile honestly again, I couldn't help but remember that he was the one who found out about me and Damian first. He'd been there to spy on our first date, hiding it from Bruce. He was the first to take me out for ice cream then subtly threaten my life if I harmed Damian, the first to swing by for spontaneous days out. To get to know me, to see if I was right for Damian.

Stephanie, Tim and I bonding over teasing and pranking Damian.

Tim and I being forced into caffeine and sleep interventions. Coffee and Coke. And then the beautiful irony of us falling asleep halfway through, especially after I taught him how to sleep with his eyes open.

Cooking with Alfred, learning his famous cookie recipes. Showing him more authentic Hispanic recipes, and him comforting me and being the first to compliment me after I was duped into cooking for the ENTIRE family.

Philosophical and political discussions with Bruce. Talks about war and power, cultural similarities and their origins. Talks about Damian as a child to mess with him. Opening up about paranoia, fear of losing loved ones, the controversies of being "too much" for some people. He understood, sometimes the ultimate sacrifices had to be made in a second. He understood because he was the same. We'd give up our lives before anyone else.

It's all gone.

So much of my past, and now, my whole future.

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

it's cold. i stripped off my shirt and blew my nose.

blood. eww, it's hot. i hold my shirt to my nose, crawling under the table, balling up until i could feel all 4 legs pressing into me.

tuneless humming, watching the room light up until my eyes burn.

I have to pee.

I wash my hands, the water making me aware of my bone dry mouth. My tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I let the water pour through my fingers for another minute before walking away, laying back under the coffee table.

long grains. shades of brown. like dead grass. my fingers run over the million tiny bumps watching the wood fade from a blurry brown to a million tiny wooden grains.

My hair is on fire. The sun reaches it from under the table.

There are people in the hallway. They're as loud as the cars outside.

the ac is running. i start humming to drown it out.

i'm melting. i force my eyes to blink but they continue to burn.

I can't breathe. I stagger to the bathroom and after a few minutes of moving my jaw up and down, my mouth manages to open. I swig some water before throwing some on my face. fever? headache at least. I grab a towel to wipe my face, fumbling back into the hall. fuck was i looking directly at the sun? there is only one place colder than the sun. i walk to my bedroom, the cold imperceptible to me now.

but the second i put my eyes directly onto the empty bed frame, i could almost hear them sizzle. it exhausted me. I hadn't realized how hot my face was until i laid it on the floor. like a refreshing bath, calming. i just focused on my heat being transferred to the floor, unaware that I was falling asleep again.

((The writing for the last chapter is intentionally like that, I was attempting to write Rose being in a type of disassociated kind of state; where you aren't aware of time passing, noting seems real, even things in your immediate vicinity. Knowing that you should be doing something, drinking water, changing clothes, listening to music, ANYTHING-but still not doing it. The capitalization/simple sentences and repetition on the latter part was intentional. ))

#I dont know #i guess i wanted to see how/if my writing's changed #YES THIS IS WHERE I GOT THE THING FOR DIAVOLO'S DADS LETTER I REALLY LIKED IT SO I REUSED IT #I couldnt come up with a nice transitory chapter about Rose's friends coming to check on her/ reminding her that she's her own person/#coming back to gotham #BUT THEY DEF DONT GET BACK TOGETHER #not obey me!#NOT OBEY ME #Not OM!#Ozera nonsense

4 notes · View notes

give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

Text

Guarding You - AUgust Day 31

This is using both the College au and Bodyguard au Title: Guarding You - Chapter1: En Garde Collaborators: @fightingforcreativity, purple_ducky00 Link: Read on AO3 Ship: WinterIronHusband Rating: Explicit Tags: AU Bodyguard, AU College/University, College Student Tony Stark, College Student Rhodey, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Dorks in love, Falling In Love, Fade to black sex, slices of life, Mention of alcohol, creep tries to creep on Tony, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Pining, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau/Nick Fury, mentioned dog, betrayal, Violence, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Injury Recovery, Clint Barton Trolls People Warning: alcohol use, canon typical violence (later chapters) fade to black sex Summary: As Tony Stark always managed to get rid of the bodyguards Howard sends, the older Stark decided to try a different agency, one he knew had specialized bodyguards.

The man he ends up hiring seems competent enough.

James "Bucky" Barnes gets a job which leads him back to college. He might or might not gets into trouble with his neighbors Tony Stark and Rhodey Rhodes.

And those troubles might lead to something neither of the three could have anticipated.

++++++++

Chapter 1

“So Howard Stark is paying for your college?” Sam asked. "And you're going to MIT? How is that a bad thing?"

"I'm hired to babysit his manchild son," Bucky grumbled. "I have to be his 'friend' so that he doesn't try to get me fired."

“And you think that will work out? C’mon Barnes, we all know you’re not the friendliest sunshine out there,” In moments like this, Bucky wondered why he was friends with Sam Wilson and Clint Barton.

“Stop it. Bucky is one of the best men there is! I’m sure if one person can deal with the Stark brat, it’s Bucky.”

That was the reason, because his idiotic best friend Steve Rogers was friend with those as well, and maybe because they all worked for the same company.

“Aw, Cap, you and your man crush are always so cute.” Here was Natalia. Why Natalia constantly broke into the boys locker room of their bodyguard agency, was a mystery.

The chorus of “Hey Nat.” wasn’t even a surprised one so often this occured. The one person who didn’t greet Natalia was Rumlow. “Great. Romanov, when will you learn that this is the man’s changing room.”

Natalia tapped herself thoughtfully on her chin before replying, “Hm, let me think… Ok, never. When will you, Rumlow, learn that in an agency like ours gender separation doesn’t exist?”

Rumlow grinded his teeth and left the room, clearly hating that Natalia got one up on him.

Shaking his head Clint claps Natalia playfully on the shoulder, “Not everyone here knows the agency’s philosophies by heart as you do, Nat. Ease up.”

In the next moment the blonde found himself on his back on the floor, Natalia pinning him beneath her. “Well, those who are here as long as Rumlow should. And you need to work on your reflexes.”

Her grin was audible and Bucky couldn’t help and join in the teasing and bantering developing after. He was aware that Natalia had manipulated the situation so that the attention had been drawn away from him. Bucky prefered it that way.

~~~

Rhodey knew that Tony loved him dearly. Heck, how everyone else couldn’t see it was beyond the young college student. It was evident in every single thing Tony did or didn’t do around Rhodey.

Everytime the younger man made sure not to wake Rhodey when he came from a lab binge. Tony attempted to make Rhodey breakfast over and over to make him breakfast, mostly resulting in Rhodey trying to salvage it and Tony pouting. Rhodey was one of the only people Tony was vulnerable around. Rhodey could go on for ages and would still find things to list that showed how much Tony loved his ‘honeybear’.

Out of that love alone, Rhodey endured the one thing he hated most about Tony.

“I can’t believe him!” The genius was currently pacing their small sitting area, exclaiming his disbelief and displeasure about Howard Stark. The one thing Rhodey hated about Tony was Howard Stark and the man’s behavior towards Tony. It left the smaller man raw and hurt, left him for the wolves to dig their teeths in and more often than not it was only Rhodey who picked up the pieces. Every goddamn time hurt and sliced into the black man’s soul.

“Another of those idiots? LIke hell I let myself be confined to the dorm! Wasn’t that idiot Lang not bad enough? Sure that guy had some smart ideas, shouldn’t be a bodyguard that guy, better off in science, don’t you think, Rhodey?- Anyway, I can’t!”

Rhodey had had enough of the ramble born of anger. The next time Tony was close enough, Rhodey took the smaller man’s wrist gently into his hand. “Tones.”

The nickname was spoken barely louder than a whisper. Gently stopping the genius in his tracks, making brown eyes focus solely on Rhodey. It made Rhodey feel humbled and honored. Made him believe he can do everything, achieve everything in the world, because Tony looked at him like he could. ‘Gosh, will I ever get used to this?’

Deep down James hoped he wouldn’t ever. Because getting used to being Tony’s sole focus, to feeling like he could do everything, would make James not better than all those who had used Tony and then discarded him. After Bain and Stone, James had sworn that there wouldn’t be anyone like them in Tony’s life again, as long as he was around at least.

Yes, Rhodey understood why Howard Stark had decided to send out bodyguards after the whole thing with Bain, it didn’t mean Rhodey liked the situation any better than Tony did.

“Ok Tones, here’s what we gonna do.”

For dramatics, Rhodey waited a heartbeat and another before continuing, “We look into the guy he hires next, because we both know he will, and then we devise a strategy against the new one,” And then, just because he could he added with a wink, “Especially if that one wants to kick me out of my own dorm as well.”

The resulting chuckle from Tony was well worth the exaggerated way he had presented the ‘strategy’. Still holding Tony’s wrist let him experience first hand how fast Tony relaxes after that. The rest of their night Rhodey and Tony chilled, a physics book here, a blueprint there, chips bowl in the middle of their mess.

The next few weeks nothing happened and somehow Rhodey started to think that maybe, just maybe Howard Stark had seen reason.

But if Howard Stark and Tony Stark had one thing in common, how Rhodey had to experience painfully, it was their bullheadedness.

~~~

Tony got to his first class of the morning and saw a new student sitting in the middle of the classroom. He took his normal seat by the wall and kept an eye on the new guy. It wasn’t the first time Howard sent someone his age to babysit him. The new guy never looked at him once and participated in the class just like everyone else. He shook his head and thought nothing of it.

He started to get suspicious, though, when the same guy was sitting in the back of his next class! No one has the same schedule unless it’s rigged, right? The guy must have felt the weight of his stare because he looked up at him and raised a questioning eyebrow. Ahh, so he was a good actor. Ok. Tony shook his head. He would figure him out somehow.

When Tony got back to his dorm, he flopped down on the couch beside Rhodey. “I think Howard hired another bodyguard.”

“What makes you think that?” Rhodey asked, focusing on his tablet.

“Well, there’s this new guy in ALL of my classes, Rhodey. Every. Single. Fucking. One. How do you explain that, huh?”

“I’m in the same classes as Carol,” Rhodey reminded him. “It’s not that uncommon, you know?”

Tony fumed. “I swear. If I see him somewhere else that he’s not supposed to be, I’m going to drag him to Howard myself…”

“Ok, sure. You do that, Tones.” Rhodey finally looked up from his tablet. “Want to grab some Thai food?”

Tony quickly agreed and grabbed his coat. The first one out the door, he stopped short when he saw his new neighbor. “You. fucking piece of pushover shit!” He yelled, and the guy stepped back. “I’m sorry. Have I done something to offend you?” He asked challengingly.

Rhodey stepped between them. “This the guy, Tony?” Tony nodded. “I’m sorry. Tony’s being a little paranoid. His father sends bodyguards to watch him, and he doesn’t take kindly to that.” Rhodey explained. Tony gasped. Rhodey, you traitor!

“Yea, well he should stop attacking every single person he suspects. I’d rather not have to worry about being killed every time I get home.” The man crossed his unfairly muscled arms.

“Do you know Howard Stark?” Tony blurted out. He wanted to smack himself.

The guy raised an eyebrow. “Yea? Hasn’t everyone?”

Yea. Stupid question. “Whatever. Sorry for accosting you. But if I find out that Howard hired you!” Tony lifted a warning finger. Rhodey groaned and pulled Tony away, yelling. “Sorry!”

“He’s good. He’s good.” Tony fumed. “Too bad he can’t hide any texts or payment records from me.”

“Tony.” Rhodey seemed to have this conversation with him every time Tony found the new bodyguard. “Maybe it’s a good thing that there’s someone else here looking out for you. What do you think Howard would do if you just went with it?”

“He can’t send someone to watch me, then pat himself on the back for good parenting. I won’t let him. Everyone he hires is just as messed up as he is, so I won’t have any qualms about getting them fired.” Tony is angry.

Rhodey sighed like he always did. “I get you. We’ll keep an eye on this guy, ok? But no more attacking him. We don’t need another complaint from a neighbor. They might actually kick us out this time.” “Kick out a Stark? From MIT?” Tony laughed humorlessly.

“Let’s just wait it out. They always tend to reveal themselves at some point. Hey, maybe this guy’s a good one.”

“If you’re not with me, then you’re against me!” Tony intoned, somberly.

Rhodey shot back. “Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must.”

“You will try…” Tony replied, and they both laughed. “Ahh, good old Anakin.”

“One of the better Star Wars movies.”

“More like the best.” Tony announces with finality. “Want to head back? I want to meet my new neighbor. We can stop past the Cheesecake Factory and bring him a slice of cheesecake.”

Rhodey shook his head. He could see the wheels turning in Tony’s head.

+++++++

Bucky just got out of the shower when there was a knock on his door. “If this is one more frat boy asking me to come party…” He growled. “ONE MINUTE!” He yelled as he slipped on a pair of pants. Four or five different frat guys had come up asking him to join their frat because he looked the part. Funnily enough, he could fit into the “Chad” frat, the “hipster” frat, the ROTC frat, and another one that he couldn't remember. Bucky threw open the door. “Can I help… oh it’s you again. Did you come to kill me?” He asked sarcastically.

“Meep.” Was all the Stark kid could say. He holds up a container.

The black man behind him, James Rhodes, if he remembered right from his briefing, spoke up. “If Tony wasn’t flustered by your rippling pectorals or whatever he’d say, I’m sure he would be telling you that he’s sorry for attacking you. He bought you a piece of cheesecake as an apology. Would you like to join us for dessert?”

What the hell. Why not. Bucky figured he would at least be able to scope out Stark’s room if needed. “Umm… sure. Let me just get a shirt on first.”

“I mean, you don’t have to.” Of course, that’s when Stark decided to speak.

Bucky shook his head. “I think you’d like that too much. Hold on a quick second.” Going back to his room, he pulled on a T-shirt. Following the others to their room, he was amazed at the sight. They had three bots just rolling around the living room. “Holy shit. This is amazing!”

‘Yeah, I’m a nerd. Sue me.’

“Isn’t it?” Tony commented. “So, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Hi, I’m Tony Stark, and this is my Honeybear, my Platypus, James Rhodes, but his name is Rhodey. These bots are DUM-E, U, and BUTTERFINGERS. They’re pretty much natural disasters…”

Rhodey cut in with a “Like their dad.”

“...but I love them all the same. Thank you, Rhodey. I’m glad they imprinted on me, not you. No one wants boring robots who follow the rules.” Tony patted Rhodey’s cheek. “Also, J, say hi.”

Hello Sir. A voice from the ceiling made Bucky look up.

“That’s JARVIS. My AI. He’s not fully complete, but he’ll be done by the time I graduate.”

Bucky was speechless. “Wow… this… Amazing, Tony. Anyways, nice to meet you both. I’m James Barnes, but my friends all call me Bucky. So, you can call me that if you want. “Ok,” Rhodey agreed as Tony snorted. “Bucky? Why? Do they hate you? Are you like a bucking bronco? Where’s the correlation here?”

“My middle name is Buchanan. My best friend named me Bucky when we were kids. It stuck, I guess.”

“No offense to your friend, but that’s a stupid-ass name, and I won’t stand for it. I will call you ‘James’ on serious occasions. Any other time, we shall see.”

“Tones, don’t you think it’s a little rude to make fun of a guy’s name that you’re trying to make amends with?” Rhodey wondered.

Tony batted at him. “I think it’s rude that he decided to let his friend name him Bucky. Like Bucky? Bucky, Bucky, Bucky wants a little fucky,” He singsonged. “Sorry, just can’t take him seriously.”

Bucky burst out laughing. “Well, I have never seen such contempt for my name before. Sure, whatever, call me what you want as long as it’s not your fairy godmother or something like that.”

“Note to self: never call Buckyboo ‘your fairy godmother or something like that,’” Tony murmured. “What about Jamie, Jamifer, Mr. Hotpants? I like Jamie. I have a Rhodey and a Jamie.” He sung softly, as if to himself.

Bucky could feel his defenses falling as he knew that Tony Stark is just his type. “Only if I can call you ‘Snark’ sometimes.”

“You got it.” Tony reached out his hand to shake, while Rhodey sat back in horror. “Now there’s two of them.” He groaned.

+++++++ Bucky left not long after they finished their cheesecake. Rhodey turned to Tony. “Still think he’s a bodyguard?”

“He’s too hot for Howard to hire. Howard knows I’d try to sleep with him off the bat. Isn’t that what he’s here to stop?” Tony grinned. “No matter what, we’ll find out in a little bit. Jamie gave me his phone number so JARVIS is hacking it. He can tell us if he’s been in contact with Howard at all.”

Pardon my interruption, Sir, but I have all his text threads. Do you want his bank information as well?

“Thanks J. No, just check to see if he has received any payments from Howard or SI.”

He has not.

“See? All that for nothing.” Rhodey spread his hands.

Tony smiled. He liked Jamie.

++++++

Bucky knew Tony was suspicious. From what Howard had told him, Tony would try to hack into whatever he could to make sure Bucky is not a hired guard. So, he opened two bank accounts. He has two phone numbers, making sure his friends know to never mention his current job in the texts to his new number. He felt like he was living in Witness Protection.

Apparently finding Bucky squeaky clean, Tony opened up to him quickly. He has heard of the infamous Stark parties where things got out of hand quickly, and he has even gone to a few, but it seems to Bucky that Tony is only throwing those parties because he thought that is what was expected of him. Tony spent most of his weekends in his private labs or in his dorm room. Bucky couldn’t fault him for that. College parties were the worst.